#it still baffles me that people will just repeat words they hear without actually learning what they mean

[euphoricsunflowers]

drowning in your scent — chae hyungwon

a/n: ajshdhs this this officially the longest fic on my blog by a whole lot (i think the only thing that comes somewhat close is queen’s whore at like 3.1k sheesh) so in the spirit of that! please give this fic a lot of love!!

word count: 4.7k

content: goddess au, sub!hyungwon, dom!fem!reader, the sex scene involves kissing, lip biting, neck kisses, and riding, fun stuff like that, and minhyuk is here!! he’s mentioned a lot lmao hyunghyuk besties

warning: this fanfic does take place in a village setting where there’s a bad harvest of food and so there’s a lot of mentions of food and starving. as someone with problems with food myself this could be potentially somewhat triggering so please don’t read if need be and i want to emphasize that if you need help to please reach out for it. i know what it’s like, please even feel free to reach out to me if need be, but do remember i’m not a professional.

summary: a boy from the village struggling through a bad harvest and the goddess of nature, of animals and forests, and of flowers so lovely the scent will make you dizzy, make a deal.

“hyungwon,” the voice calls out to him, and his heart aches when he sees it’s minhyuk that’s speaking to him. the usual cheer and brightness to minhyuk’s voice has all but vanished, “come on, we need to get to work,” he trudged slowly behind his friend, with minhyuk’s hand holding his own. there’s nothing but comradery between them, and yet hyungwon feels like he would trust minhyuk with his life.

“i hate this,” hyungwon murmurs under his breath, but he can faintly hear minhyuk chuckle at his whining, “i’m serious!! there’s barely any food and i’m starving and i’m supposed to pick fruit that i won’t even be allowed to eat?!”

minhyuk’s face is stone cold suddenly as he turns to, for lack of a better phrase, tell hyungwon to shut the hell up, “lower your voice,” he orders, and hyungwon deflates, but he obeys, and the quiet returns as they continue to walk to their spot in the field to pick the fruit, “i’m sorry, but i worry that being so outspoken will be your downfall, won.”

as they pick the apples, in silence from their short and blunt conversation, hyungwon spots one that stands out from the rest. he tries to resist getting a closer look at it, but he just can’t. he takes a few steps over towards it, subsequently a few steps away from minhyuk, and the apple does the rest. it’s almost hypnotic in the way hyungwon can’t take his eyes off of it. it’s red and glowing and hyungwon doesn’t know how he’s the only one captivated by the apple.

it’s like the fruit is speaking to him, calling him away, and he starts walking, even when minhyuk calls after him, he knows minhyuk spoke even though he couldn’t hear him. he walks for a few minutes, through the trees and the dense forest that he’s never traversed before. he doesn’t have to constantly gaze at the apple now, but he grips it in his hand like his life depends on it.

he comes upon a small statue hidden in the depths of the forest. it’s a stone carving of a bird, wings spread as if flying through the sky. it’s beautiful.

“isn’t it?” he hears from behind him, actually registering someone spoke to him this time, and he turns to see who it is. instead of the face of cheerful minhyuk he’s so used to seeing, a beautiful figure graces his eyes.

hyungwon can’t even focus on the physique, though, he’s too entranced by the piercing eyes that stare into his soul practically and the voice he can hear ringing in his head. “isn’t it, dear?” your voice repeats again, and he feels compelled to answer, though he’s not exactly sure how you read his thoughts. maybe he had actually said them out loud.

“yes,” he murmurs softly, turning back to look at the statue, “it’s gorgeous,” he takes a step closer to the statue to get a closer look.

“your voice,” you speak again, “i- nevermind,” you stop yourself, instead choosing to take a step closer to him, your hand touches his shoulder, “can i help you with something, dear?”

“i- what?” he’s taken aback by your question, because he didn’t search you or this place out, he was practically lured here by the fruit, “no, i-i’m okay, thank you though.”

“are you sure?” your touch on his shoulder finally registers in his head, like all his reactions are slowed and delayed, “if you’re not here for something, then… why are you here?”

“i dont… i don’t know,” he was never loud, but he’s even quieter now, “the apple… it led me here.”

you suddenly fell silent. he wonders if you used to apple to lure him, if this is a trap, but your touch is still so distracting and he can’t bring himself to care much. you look so harmless, with such pretty features that he wants to stare at forever.

it does make him wonder, however, just why your tone was so brazen when he said he wasn’t here to ask anything of you. you looked baffled when he said no, like that was the only reason you expected him to be here, “do people always just come searching for you… asking for things?”

“yes, they do,” you respond bluntly, but your words aren’t hostile. he faintly feels a sense of pity in his heart for you.

“that sounds like… such a sad existence,” the words leave his lips without him really putting much thought into them.

“it is,” you say as silence falls between the two of you before he speaks up.

“you uhm… are you… human?” you’re a beautiful yet lonely person in the forest, and it makes him wonder if you even are a person.

“no, dear,” you say as you lift your hand, the grass beneath both of you growing as you do so, “i am a being that represents nature. i think you humans would call me a god or goddess?”

“oh that’s… incredible. please explain to me more,” his eyes find you once again, watching you with already such a soft, adoring gaze.

“you just want to hear me talk, little human,” your tone is playful as his cheeks become rosy.

“maybe,” he smiles cheekily, “will you still explain it to me?”

“of course, sit with me and the flowers, will you?” you ask him, and he plops on the ground, sitting with his legs crossed as you begin, “i can control how nature exists in this world. i can make your flowers grow or trees in your forest more dense. you humans also love to hunt the sweet animals i create, ”

you pause, as if to give him a chance to speak up, and he does, “i’m sorry about that.”

“it’s alright, dear, your apologies are not necessary. besides, once they do die, they become gifts for other gods, and those gods treat their gifts from me very well,” you smile somberly, “tell me, how are you humans doing?”

he wants to lie, for some reason. he has an urge to just say ‘everything is fine, let’s just talk about happy things. i want to be happy’ but he doesn’t, “we’re… you want my honesty, right?”

“yes, yes absolutely,”

“we’re suffering. there’s too little food for everyone,” his stomach rumbles as he’s in the middle speaking, and he makes a sort of ‘see what i mean?’ gesture, “and we barely have enough to keep everyone alive through the month..”

you subtly gasp at his confession he just gives so easily, “and yet you were expected to pick fruit? that seems unfair, dear.”

“it was work that had to be done for the good fo the village,” he lowers his head at the thoughts racing through his head, envisioning the soft eyes of his friend, “but min- uh, my friend, he’s all i have. i know i… said i didn’t have anything to ask of you… and this may seem too much of me to ask, but now that i know what you are and can do, could you please help them? the people of my village, i mean,” he pleads, his eyes shining in the light.

“you want me to… provide them food?”

“please, i’d do anything,”

your face is suddenly much more serious, and you grip his shoulder as you lean in close to him, “for future reference, dear, don’t ever tell a being like me you’d do anything. ever. got it?” you were kind. you knew you were kind, but there were some that would rip his poor, innocent heart to shreds, steal his soul because he didn’t read the fine print. you’re relieved someone so soft and sweet and almost angelic stumbled upon you of all beings.

“yes,” he practically squeaks.

“good,” you sigh as you stand up, “i will help you, little thing. in return, please stay with me for one day. tomorrow afternoon, at this exact hour, you can return to the village,” you extend your hand for him to shake, “are those terms agreeable to you, my little human?”

his heart pounds in his chest. you want him to stay with you? for a whole day? he decides it’s a price that’s easy to pay if he remembers the prospect of being able to save him friend and his people from starvation “yes,” he murmurs, reaching out to shake your hand.

—

it doesn’t take much effort from you, just a wave of your hand and apparently, the harvest in the village would magically improve. he supposes one day is not a lot of his little time to give up if it meant the village could be revitalized with a bountiful amount of food. he just hopes minhyuk isn’t worrying too much.

you have a cottage of your own, he learns. it confuses him slightly because you’re a goddess, why would you need a very human-esque living space? he supposes he’ll never learn the answer to that question. the thing itself is impossible to see from the outside, he could have sworn nothing was there until your hand was in his (his heart stopped for a good minute) and you led him up the stairway leading into the cottage.

“make yourself at home,” you tell him, and he nods in a daze. your place was beautiful, full of flowers and vases with more flowers and little flower trinkets on the table and mugs with flower designs. judging from anything you considered to be your domain, you seem to like flowers. the softness of the atmosphere is calming to him, the scent of all the flowers is overwhelming, his knees are weak.

“what- what are you going to do with me for this day that you have me? you must have some plan for me,” you tilt your head with a faint smile on your lips as he sits beside you on the couch, “do you want me to work? am i a servant? please, all cards on the table, tell me what you want from me.”

“all cards on the table?” you echo, and he nods, for a second wondering if you just straight up didn’t know what he meant, but you lean in to him, close enough to just barely need to lean just a little more and you’d be kissing him, “i just think you’re cute. forgive me if i just wanted a day to gaze at you.”

he’s startled as you pull yourself away, leaving him flustered and blushing and stuttering as you excuse yourself outside to grow more flowers. he sees the beautiful sunflowers and roses and tulips and then his eyes find you once more. your beauty just radiates, it’s so overwhelming and intoxicating that he feels the safest really taking it all in when you’re focused on your flowers, not leaving him a blushing mess whilst so close to kissing him he just might faint.

the sun hits your skin in such a beautiful way that he can’t can’t stop staring. it’s ironic how you wanted him to stay for a night because you thought he was cute but he cannot take his eyes off of your beautiful smile and hair and demeanor and just… aura. your presence is so soft and comforting yet so overwhelming to him. it’s all something he can’t understand.

you return a few hours later, having given your guest time to really settle in. as you open the door, he’s in the kitchen area with one of your mugs, drinking a cup of tea peacefully and quietly, “welcome back,” he mumbles with a smile.

“hi there, little human,” you smile back at him, taking a seat beside him, “i’m… sorry. i know you were probably lonely, here all by yourself-“

“no, i actually enjoy the quiet. it beats picking fruit,” he shrugs.

“speaking of food, i was able to grant your request, but i completely forgot about you. would you like something specific to be prepared for your evening meal?” hyungwon forgot what it was like when there wasn’t barely enough food to survive on. he tells you his wishes for meat and vegetables and starches his stomach aches for, “alright, dear. sit at the counter with me as i cook.”

he’s stunned for a second, “i didn’t know you can cook.”

“you don’t know my name, my sweet. we have a lot to learn about each other.”

“what is your name?” he asks, and you giggle to yourself, having known he’d ask it the moment you brought up the fact that he hadn’t yet.

“y/n,” you answer, finding the spices you wanted, “and yours, my beautiful flower?”

his heart skips a beat at the endearing term you use. at this point, he wonders if you’re getting enjoyment out of flustering him so helplessly like this, “hyungwon,” he sees the way you smile when you hear his name. it makes him smile too.

“hyungwon… what a beautiful name you have, my dear. it’s fitting, for someone as beautiful as you,” at this point he’s absolutely sure you’re getting a kick out of making him a flustered mess, because now his cheeks are red and he can’t meet your gaze, “sorry, i don’t mean to fluster you—,” liar, he thinks, “— i just can’t help adoring you.”

“you’re too much for my weak heart,” he mumbles exasperatedly as you cook, looking over at him with that cheeky smile on your face like you know just how much you wreck his heart and his composure.

you seat him at the small-but-not-too-small dinner table, bringing plates of food and finally sitting at the seat across from him, “eat as much or as little as you want, dear.”

he goes to ask before he puts too much thought into the question, “are you not gonna eat-? oh, wait, nevermind, do you not need to?” you nod, smiling.

“i’m grateful that you think of me, angel, but you’re correct: this is all for you,” and while he’d theoretically be hesitant to eat while you just sit there, he finally remembered just how hungry he was, and so it would have taken much more restraint than he currently had to restrain himself.

after dinner, you lead him him to the bedroom in your cottage. emphasis on the singularity in that term, “oh- uh, a-am i going to sleep with you-?” he stutters.

“you can, you don’t have to if you don’t wish to, flower. i don’t really have to sleep so if you want the bed all to yourself, then it’s yours. i just… i thought maybe- you know what,” you tone changes suddenly, and he’d be damned if he didn’t catch it, “nevermind. take the room. call for me if you need me, i’ll be outside with the flowers again-“

“wait!” he calls out as you turn to leave him alone. you look over at him, eyes shining so beautifully in the moonlight.

“yes, my flower?”

he’s flustered once again, but he can’t help wanting you to stay with him. he reaches his hand out to you, similarly to how you reached yours out to him, “stay with me?”

you accept the proposal, sitting on the bed with him, weaving a few flowers into a flower crown while he lays on his side, watching you work on the crown like it was the most entertaining thing in the world.

“i think sunflowers will look pretty against your skin, hyungwon,” you mumble, keeping your voice soft as to not disrupt the peaceful atmosphere you’ve both created, and he smiles bashfully at your words, “truly, i think anything would look beautiful on you, but the yellows would really bring out the strong, almost sensual browns in your eyes. can- can i?”

he nods in consent, sitting up and sitting still for you, and your fingers gracefully position the crown on top of his head, “ah, do i look good with it on?”

“oh absolutely, sweetheart, but,” you scoot closer to him, and once again, his heart beats rapidly and his thoughts evaporate into thin air, replaced by the bashful shyness and the way he’s suffocated by your scent, breathing it in like it’s a drug, “in my opinion, you’re the most beautiful.”

he can’t breathe.

“i-i, um, oh my god,” he stammers, so shy as you smile at how he struggles.

“can i kiss you, pretty boy?” you whisper, your hand raising to hold his cheek as you gaze at his lips. it’s subtle, probably because he was malfunctioning inside, but he nods, closing his eyes and passively waiting for your lips on his.

he didn’t know what to expect, with you being a god and all, but it was so much more than he could have prepared himself for, both mentally and physically. it was a rush if he’d ever felt one, both his body on fire and goosebumps lining his skin.

your style of kissing makes him ache in so many ways. his lips will definitely be bruised from the way you bite them, drawing blood like a vampire but in the kindest way possible, your hand cupping his cheek and you other rubbing his thigh soothingly is enough to keep him from crying out because of the pain.

“stop me, hyungwon,” you mumble under your breath, “if you don’t want this, you need to stop me. tell me to stop and i will,” but how did you ever expect him to do that when he’s already so wrecked and all you’ve done is kissed?

“don’t,” he whispers, “don’t stop, please,” and you oblige, keeping your lips busy on his neck as he groans, reaching out to hold your waist, “please,” he echos his own words weakly.

“tell me what you want, i’ll do it, just tell me,” you see how choked up he is, and it’s cute how easily he’s wrapped around your finger, “tell me, tell me, my flower.”

“touch me more,” he breathes, and you help him throw off his shirt. your hands are all over him in an instant, you press kisses down his neck, paying attention to his chest as your hands wander lower and lower.

he bites his lip in anticipation, but it feels just like how it felt when you bit his lip before and he audibly moans at the recent memory. it’s almost embarrassing when he realizes just how openly and easily he’s been moaning since you started.

and it’s not like he exactly expected a warning, but he wasn’t ready for when one of your hands started rubbing his crotch and making him moan and whine helplessly, “please don’t tease me.”

“hm, alright, sweet thing. how about i ride you? would you like that?” he nods desperately, weak at the thought of you using him for your own pleasure and leaving him to drown in the overwhelming pleasure you give him, “take off your pants and underwear, then.”

he scrambles to do as you say, watching with his jaw dropped as you make the garments you wear all but disappear with just a wave of your hand, and he’s intimately reminded that you’re not human, that he shouldn’t have trusted you so implicitly as to let you put him in this position, and that he’s playing a game where he doesn’t know the rules.

but then he sees the genuineness in your smile, the way you treat him so kindly yet assertively, soft yet harsh, and he just can’t fathom being in any real danger when he’s being swallowed by so much pleasure when he’s under you like this.

he’d been zoned out for a few moments until you’re actually riding him already, holding his hand in a softness that makes him weak. he suddenly notices the flowers in your hair, the way your nose crinkles up when you smile down at him, the way looking at your lips reminds him of the ache on his. it’s incredible just how infatuated he is, the way he adores so much being not just under you in a physical sense but also being under your spell.

he moans in such a heavenly bliss, eyes fluttered shut as he can only hear his own voice make sounds that would normally make him embarrassed. he can’t bother to care right now because when he opens his eyes, you seem to like the sounds he makes. and he wants to please.

“hyungwon, d-dear,” you murmur, your hands resting on his chest to keep yourself stable on his chest, “i can’t keep my eyes off of you, baby. you’re absolutely ethereal. so please, can you show me how pretty you are when you cum? can you cum for me, my flower?”

god that name was the most precious thing to him, he wanted to be your beautiful flower forever.

he does cum. he orgasms viscerally, his body trembling as he throws his head back, his jaw slacked as he moans loudly, cumming so hard he can see white.

he stays in that headspace of pleasure, higher than the clouds, for a few moments as the high subsides and he’s left with a euphoric feeling that keeps him shivering with aftershocks, until he starts to hear your voice. you whisper little nothings to him as he starts to come down completely, “i’ve got you, little thing, don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

he briefly ponders why you keep calling him ‘little thing’ when he’s as tall as he is, but your kisses to him temple take that thought away, “y/n?”

“yes, dear?”

“can you sleep with me?” he asks, not realizing that you already told him that you don’t need to sleep.

still, you can’t resist him when he’s just so adorable with that pout he probably doesn’t even realize he’s making, “of course, let’s clean up just a little bit, and i’ll lay with you while you sleep, angel.”

—

morning comes far too soon. you still have him for another 7ish hours, but once they’re up, he’ll return to his village, to that friend he mentioned, and disappear from your existence forever. it’s almost pitiful how quickly you became attached to the pretty thing.

you look over at him, sleeping so, so peacefully, his cheek squished against the pillow while he pouts and you can’t help but coo at how precious he looks.

it’s impossible to imagine a life anymore where you can’t keep looking at his face, at his pretty lips (that are covered in bruises in a way that makes this moment a bit less melancholic and innocent), at the softness in his eyes when he gazed at you. what a miserable fate that would be to live through.

“what’s on your mind?” you hear him groan tiredly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. you go to object, say ‘of course it’s nothing just go back to sleep dear’, but he catches it and, even in the early morning, he won’t take a lie.

“i just… you have a life to return to, and i don’t want to deprive you of that. i’ve just grown to like you, is all,” you murmur as you run your fingers through his hair, hearing his soft gums of contentment, “an existence of being by yourself might make one somewhat… easily attached.”

hyungwon doesn’t know how to respond, but he sits up, despite the tiredness that still rests in his body, he moves to get himself out of bed, using his hand to brush his hair out of his face, “we still have time together, so let’s do something you want to do.”

“like what?” you smile sadly, “what should we do?”

“hmm…” he makes a really cute face when he thinks, you realize, and it just makes you fall a little bit more, “well you really like flowers right?”

“of course,”

hyungwon’s face lights up, like he’s had a sudden realization, “oh! then what if we painted? i have minhyuk’s paints in my bag!! minhyuk told me to hold onto them for the day and i kept them on me!”

“wha- what if your friend doesn’t want you to use them?” you stutter, but you can feel that you’re already on board.

“then that’s his problem!”

now to be honest, painting was not hyungwon’s strong suit, but he had such a fun time with mixing colors and making flowers that don’t really look like flowers come to life on the many wooden walls of your cottage. neither of you had brushes either, so it was really just fingerpainting, and by the end, your hands were covered in myriads of greens and yellows and pinks reds and blues tinted by the white, they were almost works of art themselves.

and after hours of painting, making more flower crowns, even teaching him to make flower crowns, and more activities, your time with him was dwindling. of course, he doesn’t have to leave, but the time that he had to stay was slowly slipping away from you.

“hyungwon,” you mumble, getting his attention as he sits on the couch while you were supposedly making tea. you raise your hand, displaying a bright red apple, “this is the one from yesterday, right?”

“y-yeah, i think so, why?”

“i- come here, please.”

he wobbles over to the kitchen, sitting beside you as you show off the fruit, “what’s going on?”

“remember when you told me the apple lead to you the statue?” he nods, “this apple is blessed with my energy. it’s… magical, in a human sense. i just want to apologize for decieving and likely confusing you yesterday,” you look down at the fruit, shiny and glowing red with liveliness, “but i have a… proposal of sorts.”

“i- alright, what is it?”

“take a bite,” you say, your tone heavy with implications of what will happen, “take a bite, and stay with me, will you?”

“what- what about my family? my friend? what about the life that i have?” he asks, but it’s all rhetorical, he doesn’t expect a serious answer, “i was willing to give you a day, i can’t give you my life.”

why can’t you, you feel the urge to murmur to him, why can’t you give that all up? you know i’m all you want now, you’ll only spiral down even further into me, “you don’t have to eat it all, just a bite, just one.”

“what- why are you so adamant that i eat that apple?”

“because!” your voice cracks ever so slightly, and once again his heart aches and he rushes to attempt to soothe you, to hold your heart in his hands and never once let it be hurt, “because you are all i want, hyungwon,” you mumble as he hugs you, resting your head against him, “because i want you to return to your friend and your village, but i’m selfish, i’m so, so selfish. this is the best middle ground i could think of.”

“...what does taking a bite entail?” he asks tentatively, and his heart jumps when he sees your eyes shine with hope. whether or not you know it, you’ve got him good.

“half the time, you’ll be mine. your soul has to reside in my domain, your heart will constantly ache for me,” you murmur, your hands suddenly wandering and he chokes out a moan, “but the rest of the time, you can return to the village. you can return to your life, and i will not make any attempts to steal you away during that time.”

he’s left speechless, not exactly sure what you’d want him to say now, but you place the apple in his hands, pressing a few faint kisses to the edge of his lips just to fluster him, but then you disappear outside. he watches you through the window as you tend to your flowers, picking a sunflower to place into your hair. he’s so entranced by the way you move that he can barely focus on what he needs to focus on: the apple.

he wonders what minhyuk is feeling right now. he’s probably worried to death, horrified out of his mind that his friend just disappeared into the forest. he wants so badly to go back and reassure him that nothing bad happened and go back to the way things were except things would be better.

but he does also feel a sense of… devotion? infatuation? love, maybe? whatever it is, he feels something towards you. his heart aches to please you, to do in this situation what would make you happy. the way you looked when you were so emotionally vulnerable with him, you didn’t seem like a god that he had to worship in that moment, you seemed like a soul that he wanted to love. it’s this feeling deep in his soul that just leaves him, both his heart and his body, utterly defenseless to the prospect of you.

so this is the end of him as he’s been for his whole life. or at least, in a sense, half of him. he’s grateful that you went outside to let his head clear just a bit, it’s always so clouded with you and your scent and your aura that he feels delusional. he tosses the apple around anxiously as he tries to decide what to do, but in the end, there’s not a chance in the world that he could ever go against what would make you happy.

he tries to delude himself into thinking it’s a conscious choice he makes, but he knows he’s lying; he just doesn’t want to accept it. he’s been a wreck since the moment you lured him away with the very apple he holds, there’s not a single reality in which he gives you up. his heart aches to protect yours, and his body wishes to be ruined by yours.

he takes a bite. he’s yours.

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @mellowriting @foenixs @hobilluvvr @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub @rubyscloud9 @silencefavarchive @nct99 @bigkpopstan @monstaxdirtywonk and always feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist <3

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: I know in a post you said something about Alex getting sensory overload so for the requests maybe Alex getting sensory overload and Willie being there to do his best to help Alex out

Ahhh, I love this request so much! This is my favourite Alex headcanon that I have so I’m really glad you requested this. I wrote it as a mixture of what I go through when I get sensory overload and also what I’ve found through research so more people can hopefully relate. I haven’t proof-read it yet, but I’ll come back and do that later. Thank you so much for the request!

Title from All You’re Dreaming Of by Liam Gallagher.

TW: sensory overload, anxiety

When The World Is At Its Worst

Alex had three extremes: worrying himself so much that he overworked, worrying himself so much that he got nothing done, and worrying himself so much that he broke. Normally, he could cope with pushing himself too hard – at least that way he got things done, and when he ran out of errands to make himself run it gave him some time to relax and recalibrate. Getting little done was more stressful, but it tended to happen less often, so Alex didn’t see it as much of a problem. What Alex struggled with the most was pulling himself back together when he felt utterly ruined.

Sometimes – not as often as he worked too hard, but not as seldom as he worked too little – Alex would worry himself to the point where everything simply became too much. The point where every sensation was painfully overwhelming, distressing in a way nothing else really compared too. Lights shone too brightly, noises were amplified tenfold, and if something was touching him he could feel it like a hand clasped too tightly on his skin. His parents had said it was just him being sensitive, Willie had said it was probably something called sensory overload, but Alex just wished it didn’t happen to him.

The worst part was that it was usually caused by him working himself too hard, something he didn’t think he could have ever stopped if he tried. He would worry, which would make him work, which would worry him more if things weren’t going well, and then his mind would dissolve into a mess of disarrayed senses and feelings and it hurt. He would shut down, which only seemed to make his anxieties worse.

It hadn’t happened in a while though, so that made Alex feel a little better about the whole thing. Maybe, if he’d got lucky for once, those episodes were starting to go away. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about them so much now that they hadn’t happened in a few months. Maybe he could start to get on with his life as normal. He could hope, at the very least.

Exams week was coming up at Los Feliz. For Alex, when exam stress hit, it hit hard. He wasn’t even sure what worried him so much about exams. Perhaps it was the big fiasco that school always made about exams, having to sit in total silence with the threat of disqualification looming over you so much that it was nerve-wracking to even lift your head to look at the time. Perhaps it was the orderly rows and having an entire year group lumped in the hall together, making it feel so formal and suffocating and painfully important in a way it almost certainly wasn’t. Perhaps it was the unpredictability of it all, not knowing what would come up or what it would be best to revise.

It didn’t matter too much to Alex what was stressing him out – even when he knew what was causing his nerves, he had never been much good at combatting them. His strategy this time was to prepare for the exams as much as he could, force himself to soak in as much information as possible. He just wanted to give himself a chance to be confident that he knew everything because just maybe that would help him do well and calm down.

He had enlisted Willie to help him revise over the weekend. Willie was more than happy to do so – he had said he was looking forward to spending some quality time with his boyfriend even if it was just the two of them pouring over a biology revision guide for four hours straight. If Alex hadn’t been so conscious that he needed to be revising, he would have felt bad that he was spending time with Willie without spending time with him, but thankfully Willie truly didn’t seem to mind.

“Ten out of ten, hotdog,” Willie said triumphantly after Alex had given them his final answer to the quick quiz Willie had been giving him. “Third time in a row, too. You’re going to ace this test.”

Alex closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers against his temples. He didn’t say anything. Willie had sounded certain that Alex would do well for the whole day, but the truth was that Alex felt like he was guessing most of the answers and getting them right by pure chance. Either that or Willie was giving him the benefit of the doubt and saying he was right when he was actually miles off. Despite the fact that he had constantly shown he knew what he was talking about, he still felt completely clueless.

Willie didn’t seem best pleased with Alex’s silence. “Hey,” they said, gently taking one of Alex’s hands. “You know your stuff. You’ll be fine. And if you’re really that worried, you’ve still got the rest of the week to refresh your memory. We’ve got this.”

Alex hummed noncommittally. He heard Willie sigh.

“Why don’t we take a quick break?” Willie suggested, running his hand through Alex’s hair.

At that, Alex’s eyes shot open, he sat up and immediately stiffened, looking wide-eyed at a baffled Willie.

“No,” he said, “I don’t need to take a break. I’m not going to be able to learn all this if I take time out.”

Willie looked at him, his brown eyes sympathetic. “I don’t want to push you too hard. At least get up and get a glass of water – we’ve been sat in the same place for hours, it’ll do you good to clear your head.”

“I don’t need to,” Alex repeated. How could he get up and walk away when he still had five more topics to cover? When he needed to doublecheck he understood everything and still have time to solve some physics problems afterwards? He couldn’t just ‘take a break’. It would ruin everything.

“Are you sure?” Willie said. They didn’t look convinced, but Alex wasn’t going to back down. He knew what he needed to do and he was going to stick to it.

He nodded shortly and then flicked to a new page. “Test me on this,” he told Willie, who – with a reluctant sigh – began to ask him questions about the information.

The problem was that Willie’s suggestion had thrown Alex off-balance. Now all he could think of was not working and how that would be detrimental, it didn’t even cross his mind that it didn’t matter because he was still working now. He suddenly found himself unable to concentrate on the questions and the ridiculously long sciencey words Willie was using, his mind bogged down with practical methods and half-remembered equations that had nothing to do with what he was revising.

He quickly started getting questions wrong, saying the first thing that came to mind only to be told that the right answer was something he should have known because it was obvious. With each wrong answer he became more and more distressed, tears stinging his eyes, feeling stupid.

“Breathe, Alex,” Willie said. “Take your time with the questions, you don’t need to rush it. This isn’t the exam, it’s just you and me here. You have all the time you need.”

But, Alex wanted to say, I won’t have all that time when the exam comes and I need to get this right now. He didn’t get how Willie couldn’t see that. So he kept guessing, giving answers he was sure were wrong, but his mind feeling so fogged that he couldn’t think of anything else.

He didn’t even realise he had started crying until Willie reached out to wipe a tear from his cheek and the sensation wasn’t soothing – he could feel it so deeply that it almost hurt.

Without thinking, he shuffled across the bed where they were both sat, out of Willie’s reach. For a brief moment, Willie looked confused, but then they seemed to realise what was going on and he didn’t try to move any closer.

Alex hated this feeling and he had been so sure that it was going to stop happening. But he had clearly been wrong, because now that he was sat in a different place it felt wrong. The way he could see his bedroom, from a slightly different angle to before, felt so strange and so alien that it hurt. The bedcovers he was sat on now were too cold and coarse against his skin, so he pulled his legs against his chest. That moved his shirt slightly, and he became painfully aware of how the material felt, how it clung to his body like a second skin, and that hurt too. He realised that the lights in his room were too bright, far too bright, so he clamped his eyes shut and slapped his hands over his eyes.

He heard the ruffling of bedsheets, presumably as Willie got up from the bed. He heard him flick the light-switch off and pull the curtains closed – a click that he felt like a knife in his skull and a grating drag that pounded against his ears. He pressed his thumbs over his ears while still keeping his hands over his eyes, trying to block out the noise. Everything was too loud, too bright, too something to be comfortable. He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t move.

He felt trapped.

There was no telling how long it went on for. He couldn’t move his hands away from his eyes to look at his watch, not that it was really the biggest thing weighing on his mind. In fact, for the first time in hours, there wasn’t much on his mind at all apart from how he just wanted to go back to feeling comfortable. He wanted to hear without it being too loud, look at things without hurting his eyes, take that break Willie had suggested – and probably apologise to Willie too.

These things usually lasted quite a while. If Alex had to guess, it would have been about fifteen minutes since he shuffled away from Willie when he slowly took his hands away from his eyes and ears and drew in a great, shuddering breath. He blinked his eyes open and was grateful that Willie had turned the lights down. He looked over to where Willie was, perched on the edge of the bed, watching Alex’s face carefully. Willie raised his eyebrows, asking a silent question, and Alex nodded.

“Can I touch you?” they asked softly. Again, Alex just nodded, still not feeling able to speak.

Gently, Willie reached out his hand and did the same thing that had sparked the overload in the first place, wiping away tears from Alex’s cheek. This time Alex didn’t shuffle away, but he didn’t lean into Willie’s touch either; it wasn’t insufferable anymore, but it still wasn’t pleasant.

“What do you need me to do for you, Alex?” Willie asked.

Alex thought for a moment, then made himself reach out and take Willie’s hand. Willie held it tightly, knowing that light touches were often worse than firm ones. Alex let his fingers gently trail along Willie’s palm and their wrist. He looked tearily into Willie’s eyes and almost felt himself smile at the reassuring look on Willie’s face.

“You’re okay, hotdog,” Willie told him. “You’re through the worst of it now. Just breathe. Dry your eyes and breathe.”

He did as he said, wiping at the dried tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand. Willie squeezed his hand, close, reassuring, encouraging. He didn’t talk, he just let Alex calm down the way he needed to, saving most of the noise for when Alex was definitely ready.

“I’m sorry,” Alex croaked eventually. His voice box felt dry and scratchy.

Willie shook their head. “You have nothing to apologise for. You can’t help it.”

“I should be able to by now,” Alex protested.

“You might never be able to,” Willie said matter-of-factly. “That’s not a bad thing, it’s just something that happens to you. It sucks, of course it does, but this might be a part of you forever. You don’t need to apologise for something beyond your control.”

“It shouldn’t be beyond my control.”

Willie left a hesitant pause but then seemed to make his mind up. “Don’t let your parents get that into your head. Don’t let them make you believe that. I don’t care what they say about this – they don’t get it. Alex, there’s nothing about this that makes you weak or too sensitive or whatever it is they tell you. Lots of people get sensory overload, it’s not something alien or weird. It’s not something you can stop forever, so please don’t hurt yourself trying to.”

Alex looked at him, suddenly teary-eyed again. “I don’t want it to happen forever.”

“I’m not saying we can’t do things to make it better,” they replied kindly. “I’m sure there’s techniques that can make it easier to deal with, even if they don’t prevent it forever. Or maybe it’s time we looked at getting you some therapy or counselling. What do you think?”

“My parents would never let me get help like that,” Alex said, chuckling darkly.

For just a moment though, he let himself think about it. He let himself wonder what it would be like if he could see a professional and get the right kind of help. Maybe he would learn not only how to calm his sensory overload but also how to control his anxiety better in general. Maybe if he’d been getting the right kind of help before all this then he wouldn’t have had the exam stress anyway and he wouldn’t even be having this conversation. There were endless possibilities but he was sure he’d never see any of them come to light.

“If you don’t want to tell them about it then  we could wait until you turn eighteen,” Willie suggested, squeezing Alex’s hand again. “That way you don’t need parental permission.”

“That’s not for another three months,” Alex said petulantly.

“So?”

“So what if it stops by then?”

Willie raised his eyebrows. “Do you think it will have?”

Alex couldn’t have given an honest answer. He said nothing, just pulled himself to Willie and hugged him tightly. He felt their arms instantly loop around his waist, their hands planting themselves firmly on his back. Alex buried his face into Willie’s shoulder, holding him as close as he possibly could, all of a sudden wanting to touch him as much as he could.

“You’re going to be okay, hotdog,” Willie said, pressing a gentle kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I promise.”

“I believe you.”

*

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright 

[fierysafrina]

Be with you | Simeon x reader

Fandom: Obey Me! Rating: General Word Count: 1.920 Genre: Fluff | Romance | Comedy Summary: Simeon’s sudden visit takes you by surprise and you’re convinced he lives to see you have a breakdown. Notes: At first I wanted to write this idea for Satan, but there’s a certain angel that needs as much love as he can get because I’d die for him ;-; I tried to go with comedy at some parts and I hope it makes you laugh from all the angst and hurt I’ve been writing and still will write.

This (and all other oneshots) are also cross-posted on AO3 under “I fell in love with the devil” title by Kyra_Gold (that me) if you wish to follow it.

A couple of months had passed since your exchange student program was finished. Now with a degree, you were living in all your comfort of a small apartment. You still weren’t sure how that one year at Devildom was approved when searching for a job, but you didn’t question it. You didn’t want to know of their tricks.

You still received visits from the brothers—especially Mammon, Leviathan and Satan—while you also went to visit them every once in a while. You kept in contact with Solomon, often talking to each other over the phone of his new schemes, getting a new pact and tempting you into the same fate. But just like every time before, you kindly refused. Having seven brothers on your back was already enough and you were quite certain you couldn’t handle any other demon.

Holding a bag of groceries, you were walking back towards your apartment, looking at your phone. Solomon sent you another photo of him and, what you quickly realized was, a new pact. You found it rather amusing there was still a place for a new one on his body. You were smiling at the message and didn’t miss blond hair in the corner. Narrowing your eyebrows, you looked closer at the photo. “Is that Luke or Asmo?” you murmured to yourself when you spotted a shadow looming over your shoulder, speaking;

“I believe it’s Luke.”

Your eyes widened as you spun around, mouth open and ready to scream only to freeze midway. “Simeon?!” you hissed and held for your chest, feeling your heart beat hard and fast against your chest. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“I apologize,” He chuckled. “I didn’t think you get scared so easily.”

“I don’t!” you were quick to oppose with a huff. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to pay you a visit.” He smiled and took a step closer.

Your lips betrayed you into a small smile. "Thank you," you replied when he reached for the bag. “Ever the gentleman.” you couldn’t help to tease him.

Simeon's eyes widened before he averted his gaze, obviously looking embarrassed. With his other free hand, he scratched his cheek, hiding part of his face. You chuckled and slowly began to continue your way. Simeon was quick to follow, walking right by your side.

“How’s heaven?” you decided to break the silence that was unmistakable.

“Heaven’s fine.” He answered, a smile heard in his voice, not only visible. “Luke is quite upset with Solomon for making another pact.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I wonder how many pacts he has. Last he said it was over seventy.”

“Could be around eighty.” Simeon mused.

“Or maybe a hundred. Who knows.” You grinned only to come to a stop in front of the Cultural Center. There was music coming from the inside and you leaned slightly forward, eyes focused on open doors.

Simeon blinked at you before he looked towards the doors, a small smile spreading across his lips. He looked up into the sky, noticing a couple of clouds as they slowly moved around.

An idea came to him. Looking back at you, Simeon put the bag on a bench nearby and walked behind you. He reached out with his hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. His sudden contact made you turn his way, confusing you. You didn’t have time to ask him what’s wrong, because the next moment he twirled you around before his other hand came to rest on your back as you faced him.

Your eyes widened, cheeks heating up in a matter of seconds and Simeon laughed. You leaned your head against his shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?” you murmured, voice muffled.

“I want to dance with you.”

Your whole body grew warmer and you groaned. “Stop saying such embarrassing things.” You hissed, but his laughter only grew as he slowly moved both of you on the spot. You dared to sneak a look around only to feel relief when you didn’t see anyone watching you. Even if you saw anyone, they only spared you a glance, but continued their way. A small smile spread across your lips and you completely surrendered to Simeon’s lead.

“I miss talking to you.” Simeon spoke after a moment.

You blinked and looked at him. “W-what?” you couldn’t help the stutter.

“I miss talking to you.” He repeated, his expression gentle, warm. “I miss our talks. Hearing you joke with Solomon, defending Luke whenever the brothers teased him. I miss you.”

“But we’re here now.” You smiled.

You felt his arm bringing you closer to him and you felt your cheeks heat up once more. You couldn’t tell him your feelings for him that you bore since the moment you met him in RAD. He was an angel and nothing good ever came when a human fell for them. Yet in that moment you felt everything around you disappear as you focused on his warm touch that only seemed to pull you closer. Even when he released you, you still felt the warmth on your back, where his hand was, and you wanted him to pull you back in. You wanted him to hold you again. But the music already ended.

“Do you feel unwell?” Simeon’s voice was quiet and you found yourself staring at him. He placed the back of his hand against your forehead, eyebrows narrowing. “You don’t seem to have fever…” he murmured more to himself than you, but being so close you leaned into his touch when he caressed your cheek.

Closing your eyes, you felt a finger go over your lips and you smiled.

Pulling his hand away, you opened your eyes when you felt something much softer press against your lips. Eyes growing wide, all you saw was Simeon standing so close to you with his eyes closed. Your heart skipped a beat and you unconsciously closed your eyes. You felt a smile spread across his lips.

You unconsciously held on his jacket, gripping tighter as you returned the kiss. You didn’t want him to pull away, but he did. A pout was quick to form on your lips and Simeon laughed. Your cheeks and ears were burning as Simeon caressed your cheek.

You weren’t sure what to say, to ask, but you still heard yourself saying; “What was that for?”

Simeon hummed, a smile still present. “I felt like it.”

That made you raise an eyebrow. “Aren’t angels like … prohibited to do that?”

Simeon’s smile faltered, but it didn’t disappear. It tugged on your heartstrings, regretting to ask him. Before you could speak and change the topic, Simeon said; “While that may be the case, when feelings are genuine, they don’t exactly have a say in it.”

“Are you thinking of rebelling?” you couldn’t help but tease.

“Not exactly,” he laughed, shaking his head. He held your hand and raised it to press a kiss on your knuckles. “I’m searching for ways. For us to be together.”

You bit your lower lip and looked away in shyness when you heard the orchestra begin to play once again. You shuddered beneath his piercing blue eyes and warm breath tickling your skin. You noticed a bit too late that he leaned back in, his lips on your cheek trailing towards the edge of your mouth. You moved your head slightly, wanting to hide, but he had none of it. With his other hand, he held your chin in place, preventing you to move freely.

“S-Simeon…” you whispered, your eyes meeting with his.

“Hm?” he hummed, becoming a bit daring by stepping closer to you, his kisses trailing to your jawline instead.

You looked around, turning your head enough to give him access to move on your neck. Spotting a couple of people looking your way, expression either baffled or those of dissatisfaction, you couldn’t help but feel mortified. “W-why don’t we go t-to my h-home?” you managed to stutter out.

Pulling away, Simeon could sense the embarrassment and he chuckled as he held your hand and walked you to the bench, where he put down the bag, and picked it up.

“You’ve become quite bold…” you murmured under your breath, but he heard you clearly.

“I spent one year in Devildom.”

Swatting at his upper arm, he laughed. “If Mammon saw you kissing me, he’d flip.”

“Well, Solomon did mention once that sometimes demons can feel what humans—who make a pact with them—feel. Of course if their emotions overwhelm them.” He shortly explained, making your eyes wide.

“Why did you say that?” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “I have a pact with seven demons, who are quite strong may I add, and if they learn of … whatever we have—” you gestured between your bodies, which made Simeon raise an eyebrow; “—I don’t even want to imagine what they can do.” You shuddered, remembering the wrath you felt a couple of times.

“If it makes you feel better,” Simeon began slowly, reaching for your hand; “I talked with Lucifer about us.”

You narrowed your eyebrows. “That actually doesn’t make me feel any better.” You admitted, feeling your heart pacing up. “As a matter of fact, it makes me feel worse. Who knows in what state Devildom is if he told anyone…” you trailed off, visibly shivering at the thought. “You know what,” you pursued your lips into a thin line. “Suddenly I really don’t want to go home. Is it possible to visit the Celestial realm?” you looked at him and he laughed. “I’m serious. I’m pretty sure demons can’t go into heaven without ending in a fight with angels, can they?”

“As far as my memory reaches, Diavolo and his father are the only exception since they’re royalty and even then they don’t have permission to come as they seem fit.”

“Brilliant!” you grinned. “I really wanted to see heaven one day.” Coming to a sudden stop, you looked at Simeon, who was still smiling. “Wait a second…” you murmured, turning his way completely. “Did you actually go to Lucifer, the oldest of the brothers, and actually told him of all demons about us?”

“Now that you mention it, it certainly felt like asking your parents for your hand.”

You blinked before your eyes grew wide like Simeon just grew another head.

“He’s very overprotective of you, which doesn’t surprise me.” Simeon continued, completely disregarding your baffled expression. “I do expect all brothers calling and cursing me. Especially Mammon, Leviathan and Belphegor, so to speak.”

“You’re way too calm about this.” You exasperated. “I feel weight on my shoulders as you tell me all this. Simeon,” You held him by the upper arms, staring into his eyes. “These are demons we’re talking about.”

“I know,” he nodded, expression softening. “It’ll be alright. I just want to be with you, [Name]. Is that a crime?” He cupped your face, leaning his forehead on yours. “I want to be with you and I don’t want to miss another day. If it means going against my kin and brothers, so be it.”

Without hesitation, you pressed your lips against his, feeling yourself melt into his embrace as the bag he held slipped through his fingers and on the ground. You wrapped arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he placed his hands on your waist. This time you weren’t afraid to whisper those three words that you wanted to this whole time.

Simeon smiled and he pulled away just a bit to whisper; “I love you,” back before kissing you once more.

[jmnjmnjmn]

Eternal beings | Chapter 11

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Human!Reader

Key words: supernatural, vampire, soulmates.

Word count: around 3,000

Warnings: swearing,  sadness, jealousy, mentions of murder

Inspo board

Masterlist

I’m sorry you guys had to wait so long for this chapter. I hope you like it. I worked really hard on the ending. It was the part I couldn’t come up with for the looongest time. Please let me know what you think of it in the comments or ask tab.

“You're all over the place, (Y/N).” Hoseok said as he speeded up to walk next to Jungkook and you. You sighed slightly, looking around the familiar grounds of the park.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m not really feeling great.” You said, giving your head a slight shake to let go of the memories, at least for the time being.

“No, I meant your energy. It’s scattered all over here.” He explained himself.

“Oh…” You said feeling tired by all this supernatural nonsense.

“You come here often?” He asked and you wondered for a moment whether you should tell him the truth. “No, you used to. Yes, now I can tell.” He nodded looking around. “It’s old. High school?” Maybe he knew that there was a high school right on the other side of this park and put two and two together, or maybe he really saw energy. You instantly scolded yourself for letting that thought go through your head. “I’m right, aren’t I?” He asked with a chuckle that made you believe even harder that he was just guessing.

“Why are we here again?” You asked, wanting to divert from the topic of your past.

“You walked through here many times.” He kept going, leaving your question unanswered. “Often not alone. Often with a boy.” He added. “I can feel him here and on you.” He said gesturing from your feet to your head. “You’re still seeing him or you saw-” He tried to explain, but Jungkook cut him off with another question that made your blood boil.

“Who is it?” He blurted out.

“God, help me.” You sighed, grabbing your forehead.

“I don’t know that.” Hoseok chuckled like he was baffled by Jungkook’s lack of knowledge about energy reading.

“Can you stop?” You asked, raising your voice. Hoseok sighed and started looking around the park again.

“Here.” He said, pointing towards a path to his right. As soon as he did so you inhaled sharply and felt your heart skip a beat. Jungkook noticed that sudden change in your emotional state and eyed you up and down, unable to stop himself from thinking it was caused by memories of that boy Hoseok mentioned and to be honest he wasn’t that far off the truth.

It’s been a long time since you were here, right here. The last time you walked on this specific path was in the summer after graduation. You ran into Taehyung that day and went to hang out with them under the bridge. The bridge. A couple more minutes of walking and you’ll see it looming over the small river. 

“I have to tell you something.” Taehyung muttered looking down. You sat next to each other on the bank of the river with your bare feet in the cold water, hiding in the concrete bridge's shadow from the summer’s sun’s merciless rays.

“What is it?” You asked, waving your feet around slightly, making splashing sounds with the water. Taehyung cleared his throat and looked up at you.

“I've been meaning to tell you this for a while actually.” He said looking away as soon as you raised your gaze to meet his. “It’s nothing new- Well, for me. It might be news to you though. I- Uh…” He stumbled on his word for a moment eventually giving up with a sigh.

“What?” You asked him, clueless.

“I- I have- God damn it.” He laughed nervously and shook his head. “Give me a second.” He said, looking down at your guys’s feet in the water with a faint smile. “Okay, here’s the thing.” He started with a calmer tone. “High school is over. We’re going to university now. In a couple of years we might have real jobs and in a couple more our own families.” He counted the things on his fingers with widened eyes, as if a concept of an adult life was something new he never heard of before.

“Yeah.” You chuckled. “And?”

“And… I’ve got this horrible feeling that won't go away. No matter how hard I try.” He said looking you in the eyes.

“What?” You scrunched your brows in confusion. “What feeling?” You asked, wondering what he meant. Was he just that nervous about life after high school? Or was it something more?

“I feel... Something.” He said, putting his hands together and looking at you with hope that you understood what he meant by that.

“Something?” You asked, still unaware of what he wanted to tell you and he just nodded vigorously. “I don’t understand.” Taehyung hid his face in his hands to try and keep a nervous laugh from escaping his lips. He sighed, letting his arms fall down to his sides and decided to try again.

“Okay, maybe you’ll understand this.” He said cupping your face in his hands. Before you knew it his lips were on yours. Your hands travelled up his body, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer.

You didn’t feel comfortable being here with Jungkook and his loony friend. It was your place, not theirs.

“Where are we going exactly?” You asked as the three of you walked, getting closer and closer to the place you so desperately didn’t want them to see. You realised it was silly. So many people passed through that bridge, so many walked under it, but for some reason having these two there didn’t feel right.

“River.” Hoseok’s answer made your blood turn ice cold, but what he added a second after brought you back to normality. “I need a body of water for this.” You decided not to comment on his weird statement.

Without a word you walked over the concrete bridge onto the other side of the park. Hoseok led you down onto the bank of the river where you walked ahead for a couple of more minutes.

“Perfect.” He declared, stopping in the shade of the trees growing around the path. “Away from the eyes and ears of the unwanted.” He added and you realised you were in fact alone with the two right now.

Jungkook and you sat on the grass when Hoseok went to the river for God knows what reason. You crossed your legs and started pulling the blades of grass in front of you. Jungkook swayed back and leaned on his palms looking at your hands.

“So…” He started and you already felt your annoyance levels rise. “You came here often in high school?” He asked, trying to sound casual. You kept twisting one long blade of grass between your fingers, leaving him hanging. “You came here with friends?” He kept digging, but you didn’t stop your actions. You didn’t even bother to sigh. “Seems like a nice place.” He said, nodding to himself.

“Guess who.” You grabbed Taehyung’s wrists immediately as he put his cold palms over your eyes. 

Without a word you turned around to face him, his hands fell from your eyes to your shoulders as you did so. You grabbed onto the front of his black puffer jacket and pulled him close. Despite the cold fall weather the feeling of his breath made you warm up from the inside so much that you wished to take off your thick woolen coat. You smiled as you pressed your lips on his.

“Hey.” You muttered after a moment, breaking the kiss.

“Hey.” He repeated with a goofy grin spread across his handsome face. “You’re in a good mood.”

“All because of you.” You smiled as he wrapped his arm over your shoulders and you put yours behind his back.

“I love you.” He said in a low voice, looking down at you as you walked through the park together. You simply smiled and kissed his cheek before saying back the three short words that meant so much.

“Okay, I’m ready.” You looked up at Hoseok walking towards you from the river with his face wet and his shoes in his hand.

“Did you just wash up in the river?” You asked him, feeling sceptical about the whole thing.

“Don’t question my methods. I learned from the best.” He shut you down and sat on the grass across from Jungkook and you. He reached into his backpack, taking out a beat up notebook and a candle. He set the later in the middle of the grass between the three of you and started going through the pages of the notebook slowly, humming something to himself. “Okay, give me your hands.” He said after setting the notebook down and reached one of his hands to you and another one to Jungkook. He grabbed it without question while you stared at the candle on the grass. It’s flame moved slightly in the soft breeze.

“When did you-” You started to form a question, but lost your tongue along the way.

“Cool, huh?” He asked with a chuckle, noticing what you were looking at. “I can show you how I do it later, but now give me your hand.” He said smiling with his hand still in the air. You just looked at him suspiciously, so he leaned in and grabbed your hand himself. “Jungkook?” He asked, nodding in the direction of your other hand.

“Right.” Jungkook said and grabbed your other hand.

As his warm palm touched yours everything went dark. Suddenly all your surroundings looked as if someone put a negative filter on them. You blinked your eyes a couple of times in hope that everything would come back to normal, but it didn’t. You saw Hoseok move his lips, but you couldn’t make out any words.

“What?” You stuttered out in shock. He moved his lips again trying to convey something to you, but it sounded as if he was speaking underwater. “What?” You repeated and he just shook his head. He let go of your hand and immediately everything went back to normal.

“Something’s wrong. Couldn’t you hear me?” He asked you, reaching for his notebook again.

“What was that?” You asked in a small voice.

“Okay, let’s try again.” Before you could object his hand was on yours and the world flipped upside down.

“What is going on?” You asked, tightening your grip on both boys’ hands.

This time when you looked at Hoseok for answers you couldn't hear him at all. He looked confused and angry. As he pulled his hand away from yours you were back to normal with everything in place.

“I don’t understand. I must be doing something wrong.” He mumbled, flipping through the pages of his notebook frantically. “You’re seeing everything fine, right?” He asked, looking up at Jungkook.

“Yes. She’s just buffering.” He said casually while you struggled to keep down the coffee you had earlier.

“Yes, yes…” He whispered to himself, tracing his finger down the page. “For fucks sake. How could I forget.” He exclaimed and reached for the candle, putting it’s flame out with his thumb and index finger. “You have to hold it while I light it.” He said, shaking his head at his own forgetfulness. Jungkook took the candle and held it out in your direction, but you just looked at him confused. “Take it.” Hoseok encouraged you, but you didn’t move.

Instead Jungkook took your hand in his and placed it in the candle. Within a second it’s wick was lit up again, no matches, no lighter. It was like… Magic. Jungkook let go of your hand letting it fall down to your side as he placed the candle in its previous spot between the three of you.

“Okay, hands.” The two boys grabbed both of your hands and this time everything turned black and white. Well, almost everything. “Can you hear me?” Hoseok’s voice rang through your ears, but all your attention was on Jungkook or more precisely his shining golden eyes. “Can you hear me, (Y/N)?” Hoseok asked once again and you shot him a quick glance, not wanting to take your eyes away from Jungkook’s even for a second.

“Yes, but why is-”

“Describe what you see.” He interrupted your question. Why was everything but him colourless?

“What is-” You tried only to be cut off by Hoseok’s another question.

“What do you see, (Y/N)?” He pressed and you desperately wanted to rip your hand out of his.

“I- I-” You stuttered, looking at Jungkook confused. Your eyes travelled from his eyes to his lips to his chest, down his body and up again to his eyes. As you looked into them you noticed they were full of hope and care.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jungkook said in a comforting tone, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

“Uh, I- it’s-” You looked down at your intertwined fingers, his touch felt scolding hot against your skin. “I don’t-”

“Just take a moment.” He practically whispered, leaning towards you. “Look at me. Come on.” He encouraged you. “(Y/N), look at me.” He pulled on your hand slightly so you’d pay attention to him. As your gaze met his, he smiled slightly and you felt your chest relax a little. “What do you see?” He asked. “Tell me what I look like.”

“I- uh- I don’t know.” You blinked excessively trying to clear your head and focus somehow. “I-”

“What colour is my hair?” Jungkook asked, knowing that you were too confused to think properly and he needed to give you an easy question.

“B- brown.” You muttered and his small smile grew wider at the sound of your voice.

“Okay.” He looked down at his clothes, shaking his head. “Uh- well, my shirt’s black, but- my jeans. What colour are they?”

“Blue.” This time the happy expression also took over his eyes, making them shine brightly.

“So you see me right?” He asked all giddy and you just nodded. Of course you saw him, he was right in front of you. “And I’m in colour?” Another nod. “When everything else isn’t?” Nod.

“We got her.” Your head shot towards Hoseok as he spoke. He let go of your hand and suddenly the grass was green again, the sky was blue, everything went back to normal. “Congrats, Jungkook.” He smiled and put out the candle with his finger’s like he did before. “You were right. You’re soulmates.” Your eyes widened at his words. Was it that simple to determine whether someone was your soulmate or not? What was this weird sequence of events that you just experienced?

“What?” You blurted out, looking at him in utter shock. “How do you-”

“It’s a spell as old as time, (Y/N).” Hoseok cut you off, packing his belongings into his backpack. “A couple meets with their teller and he or she checks if they’re meant for each other.” He zipped up the big compartment and reached for his shoes to put them back on. “It all depends on the saturation.” His tone indicated that you should already understand what he meant, but the disbelief spread across your face said otherwise.

“If you see your partner in full colour they’re the one, if they’re in black and white it’s probably not gonna work.” Jungkook said, continuing his friend’s explanation.

“You can try-” Hoseok nodded. “-but that’s not your true soulmate. Sometimes people can see each other in like dimmed colours, that means potential, but from what I just saw with the two of you it was pretty clear that-” 

You felt like your head was going to implode. You stopped hearing Hoseok’s words and looked over at Jungkook. His face seemed to have dropped a little from before, he looked borderline concerned which made you wonder whether he was hearing every confused and afraid thought that ran through your head the past couple of seconds. You’ve had enough. You ripped your hand out of his and stood up from the ground, turned on your heel and started walking furiously fast back towards the main lane.

“(Y/N), wait.” You heard Jungkook call behind you. “(Y/N).” His voice got close and you felt the weight of his hand on your shoulder. “Hey, stop.”

“Leave me alone.” You barked, shaking him off.

“Come on.” He chuckled, matching your pace to walk beside you. “I warned you. I said it’s all true.” You felt your blood boil in your veins. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Hey, don’t be like that.” He pouted. “Let me at least give you a ride home.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather walk.” You shot him down, not even sparing him a second glare as you walked out of the park's west gate.

“I’ll walk you then.” He more stated than proposed at which you rolled your eyes so far back into your head it was a miracle they didn’t pop out.

“No need.” You groaned through gritted teeth as the two of you crossed the street.

“You know your place is that way, right?” He asked, trying to sound funny but given the deathly stare you just shot him he raised his hands in a gesture of giving up. “Care to tell me where we’re going?” He finally asked after a moment of blessed silence.

“Please stop following me.” You fired back, nothing but annoyance in your tone.

“I’m not following you, I’m wa-” You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him.

“I said I don’t want you to walk me.” You hissed, looking into his deep brown eyes that still had that little shine of gold from before. That little tiny specle that shined so beautifully-

“(Y/N)?” A familiar female voice brought you back to reality from this weird rage and admiration combo you felt brewing inside your chest.

You turned your head to look at the woman who just passed by Jungkook and you and had to use all your physical strength not to let your jaw drop all the way down to the ground.

“Hi, auntie.” You said sweetly.

“Auntie?” Jungkook asked from behind your shoulder. The woman, your mother’s sister, your aunt, smiled at him brightly.

“Who is this friend of yours?” She asked in a tone that indicated curiosity of a life long gossiper.

“Oh, I don’t-”

“I’m (Y/N)’s boyfriend, ma'am.”

[alexius-fr]

Chapter 3 - Dissent

Click the link for the AO3 experience or just read below the cut ^^

The Spire's top village was bustling with traders, visitors, and locals there to shop for their daily needs. It'd been a while since Sanguine had been in such a busy place, feeling a bit uncomfortable, noticing he was drawing attention from the overall much smaller dragons. He knew Zephyr's parents owned a food stand, but there were so many in the bustling tiny streets he kind of lost his way. The smells coming from them was making him hungry though.

The afternoon sun beamed down on the busy alleyways, colourful banners asking his attention everywhere he passed. They all advertised the stands they belonged to, like bright colourful billboards. It'd just rained this morning and the sandy path was still a bit damp and muddy, Sanguine sinking down with every step he took. It aggrovated his old injury, having to work harder to even just walk.

Finally, he found it. Zephyr was standing at the side with a tired smile. No wonder, if he'd been up since before dawn to fish. His catch from this morning was laying on display, on a bed of ice to keep them fresh. Odd, where did they get ice here? Sanguine hadn't seen any ice dragons around yet, and the frozen icefields were too far to transport ice from without having it melt.

“Hey, you actually came!” Zephyr smiled happily when he noticed him.

“Was that in doubt?” Sanguine frowned. “No, I'm just happy to see you.” Zephyr said, genuinely. “Welcome to my family's little business.”

“It's indeed very...little.” Sanguine agreed, looking over the little stand, which was in front of what he presumed was their home, hewn out of the rock of the spire, just like all the other houses in the street. It looked like it

“I know, it's not much, but it sustains us. We're happy with what we have, and it's a good life here.” Zephyr said, not offended. “My father's just gone to get us some other supplies we need for tonights dinner. Do you want to come in?”

“Oh, no thank you. I'm fine.” Sanguine said. “Too soon huh? I'm sorry, I get like that.” Zephyr smiled apologetically. “How have you been?” “Well, thank you.” Sanguine appreciated the self reflection, smiling amicably. “Yourself?” “It's been busy. I help Alexius a lot and then I also have to help out here. It's a tough job to juggle it all.” Zephyr said. “Or should I just say I'm fine? Is that the well mannered way?”

“No, I appreciate your honesty. You seem like a hard worker.” Sanguine said, in earnest.

“I suppose I am. I won't deny that I envision a more exciting life for myself eventually though.” Zephyr confessed. “I've read books about monster hunters, a life on the go, helping the people get rid of the most terrifying monsters? Now that sounds exciting to me.”

“Forgive me for saying so, but you don't strike me as a fighter.” Sanguine noted.

“I'm not. Not yet.” Zephyr grinned. “But my mother is going to teach me! She's a fearsome warrior from an old nature bloodline. She tells me stories of how her grandfather fought a great battle in the Icefields, where she was born.” “Ah, so she's the one keeping your food fresh.” Sanguine nodded, understanding.

“She is. But she's been through a lot. She fought hard in her younger days, and she just wanted somewhere to settle and have quiet life with my father and my siblings.” Zephyr said, a fond, loving look in his eyes. It was clear he cared about his family a great deal. A feeling Sanguine had never known. He caught himself wishing he could be closer with the family he had left. Perhaps he really was going soft, just as Silas said.

“Zeph?” a deep, powerful voice spoke, both Sanguine and Zephyr looking up. From Zephyr's home walked a tall ridgeback, her hide as green as forest, her antlers reaching far behind her head, that was tilted back a little bit due to their weight. Sanguine's blood turned to ice at her stare, piercing platinum casting their gaze right through him. Her eyes were not the same colour, but her facial structure and the antlers she grew had Sanguine shudder with the realization that the bloodline Zephyr mentioned was one he was very familiar with. He looked at her and saw him.

Athelstan.

The realization grabbed him by the throat and took his breath away, his heart shrinking in his chest. The likeness was uncanny, there was no doubt. He stood frozen, baffled, staring at her as she greeted her son, unaware of the disturbance her presence had caused.

“Mom, this is Sanguine, the leader of the clan that arrived here two weeks ago.” Zephyr introduced him, oblivious of Sanguine's discomfort. “Sanguine, this is Ziray, my mother.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Ziray smiled, her wizened eyes friendly. Of course, she had no idea who he was. She'd never met him. This put Sanguine at ease somewhat, and he bowed his head.

“Honoured.” he said, respectfully. His eyes lingered on her antlers, which were very impressive in size. Is this what Athelstan would've looked like as well, if he hadn't interfered? He found himself not wanting to think about that subject. He'd destroyed a beautiful young life and there was nothing he could do to change that. He was a plague dragon, it was kill or be killed. Use or be used. Being ruthless was the only way to survive. He believed it. He had to believe it or be lost to despair.

“I know. They're a bit of a chore at times.” Ziray saw him looking at her antlers, but was obviously proud of them as she said it. “They're a gift from the Gladekeeper. Her magic runs deep in our line, even if I was born in a different territory.”

“I think they look beautiful.” Sanguine said, as politely as he could. If she knew what he had done to her relative, she would kill him on the spot. He might even let her, with the wave of regret that washed over him. “I'm sorry, but I can't stay long. I promised my brother we would scout the forests below for more plentiful hunting grounds.” “Aw.” Zephyr pouted a little bit. “That's a shame. But please don't be a stranger.”

“Thank you. I won't. It was lovely to meet you, Ziray.” Sanguine bowed his head again, hearing his mother snap at him for showing such subordination in his thoughts. Leaving, he saw Zephyr looking at him with a concerned frown, but if he knew what was good for him, he would stay away before Sanguine would ruin his life as well. How cruel of fate to place someone he liked in his path and have them be related to his greatest regret in life.

Perhaps Karma really did exist.

Back at the temporary lair, Silas was waiting anxiously, hopping from one foot to the other.

“You're late.” he snapped, as Sanguine struck land in front of him.

“And?” Sanguine frowned.

“I don't know what's gotten into you, brother, but we agreed that we would be gone from this place in a few days. It's been two weeks.” Silas said, obviously annoyed. “And you're planning on staying here even longer. We were supposed to head back home!”

“What does that even mean anymore?” Sanguine scoffed. “We've been on the run for so long that nowhere is home to me.”

“To you, maybe.” Silas said, headstrong. “I miss it. The heartbeat of the land under my feet, the warmth of the bubbling pools, the green haze that coats everything in a dim light.” he sighed, wistful. “It's where we belong, Sange. Regardless of the struggle that awaits us, we have to fight for our rightful place. Our home.”

“Since when do you make the decisions here? I've lead us this far, I think I can go a little bit further.” Sanguine said, irked.

“It's my life too, Sanguine. And that of others in our clan. I'm not the only one who thinks we should be moving on by now.” Silas replied with held back anger. “Besides, your decision making has been rather poor, lately. I thought-”

“-Thought what? That you could talk me into doing something stupid, like turning myself into an abomination?!” Sanguine snapped, his voice mighty as he raised it and growled. He lashed out, Silas flinching, but the bite was never meant to hit him, so it didn't. Sanguine just wanted to put him in his place. He'd had enough of the whining, of the incessant talking, the constant pushback he received from his brother.

Silas looked hurt, angry as he hissed back. “How dare you, I am stronger than you'll ever be!” he snarled, but did not lunge back.

“The Banescales were sealed away for a reason. They were weak. For someone who values our home so much you sure don't seem to uphold it's values, rejecting the form that you were granted on birth, the one gift our mother saw fit to bestow us. She made us stronger than all the others, and you rejected that.” Sanguine spat.

“Adapt. Survive. Overcome.” Silas said, repeating the values. “I adapted, brother. Whereas you'd rather stay weak, crippled. The day will come where you can't threaten people into obedience with your words anymore. And when that day comes...well you'd best beware.”

“Are you threatening me, you little snake?” Sanguine narrowed his eyes.

“Not so little anymore, brother.” Silas challenged. “It's time you started taking me seriously.” “I will.” Sanguine said, raising his head with eyes full of disdain. “When you stop being a joke.”

Silas fell silent, his ruby eyes glinting with rage, his lip pulled up, sharp teeth showing. But he had no reply for Sanguine, silence tense between them. They'd drawn a crowd, other members of the clan looking on tensely. Sanguine tried to gauge their moods, their alignment in the argument, dark eyes scanning the crowd. He felt how interested some where, their judgemental eyes upon him. He hadn't noticed the dissent until now, so in a way Silas was doing him a favour with this. Now all that remained was for him to stamp this fire out before it truly got going. He stalked towards Silas threateningly, holding eye contact. Silas boldly stared back, defiant as always.

“You'd better believe I will be ready when that day comes. I suggest you step back in line and learn your place. I lead this clan. You're just a parasite. Always have been.” he said, his voice low, threatening. “And if anyone else has a problem with me leading, feel free to speak up now.” he called, seeing some onlookers shift uncomfortably. Sanguine allowed the moment to become awkward, the silence dragging on as Silas looked around for support but received none, most dragons resuming their previous activities. Eventually Sanguine scoffed.

“I didn't think so.

He turned is back on Silas and walked into the lair, head held high, not showing how his heart beat in his throat. He'd never imagined he would have to worry about a betrayal that was so close to home. But he would be ready, if Silas tried it again. He sighed, finally out of sight of the others, climbing to his roost to rest and think for a bit.

He didn't notice the gleaming red eyes that watched him from the darkness, a bright rage burning inside them..

[everything-withered]

Rukia can turn invisible at will, Ichigo can read minds. She may try to disappear, but he can follow the murmur of her thoughts and find her.

The thing about Rukia is that Ichigo can't ignore her. He's tried. It's hard. Which shouldn't be possible. Not only for someone who's as unobtrusive as she makes herself to be, but also for the fact that she's forgone having a physical body at all.

Ever since she'd reached whatever spiritual pressure threshold required not be Hollow bait, and is essentially invisible to everyone but him, Rukia is a lot quieter than she had been when everyone else could see her.

It's kind of baffling, actually.

He's been around Rukia long enough to know how curious she can be, and how persistent she is to learn whatever catches her attention. She's never thought twice about poking at him to fill the gaps, at least when it's just between the two of them, and now that it technically is -- in a crowded room with no one to see her ignorance -- Rukia just. Doesn't.

Ichigo had fully expected her to take full advantage of her pseudo-invisibility and drive him up and over a wall. Lord knows she does it every other time when the opportunity arises; her poorly concealed mischievous streak would no doubt relish the chance to make him look even more like a crazy person than usual.

And while that had been the case the first few days, after that. Well. Rukia just kind of. Disappears.

She's still beside him, of course, in some way. Perched on the window sill beside his desk, sitting in her chair a few feet away from his own, leaning against the railing of the roof at his elbow or walking shoulder to shoulder as he trudges from class to class; choosing to shadow him like the pluses used to. Though unlike them, she doesn't want anything from him, at least not in that instant.

When a Hollow appears, it's a different story, but those occurrences are few and far between, and until then, Rukia is. Different. Ichigo finds himself constantly glancing over, looking out of the corner of his eye to watch her just. Be.

It unnerves him a little, if he's being honest.

The first few days when she'd abandoned the use of her gigai in favour of walking unseen, she'd been fidgety. Anxious, almost. Like shedding her overt child-like enthusiasm itched, and she'd felt too exposed without it, and had to compensate.

Once that had passed though, Ichigo felt like he was meeting her for the first time all over again.

Rukia had never really struck him as the quiet type, but being the only one to see her makes it abundantly clear that it's a default setting of hers. She's comfortable not being noticed, allowed ample opportunity to observe without being observed in turn.

When they're back home, or just the two of them, it's different then too.

Because the girl everyone in class met is just as much Rukia as the girl sitting by herself in a sea of people who don't see her in return.

He knows this in the way she smiles, absent and content, at the way the sun sets from the roof; the way she traces her fingertips along the edge of the desks, casually nudging papers and pens out of reach of their classmates' hands in a harmless prank. Ichigo can practically hear the incredulity in her expression when she's treated to the unfiltered conversations of a bunch of teenage boys, the friendly mocking in the twinkle in her eye and the curl of her smirk when the girls at school whisper about him.

She'll voice it all to him anyway once they're alone, but with her preference to be invisible, Ichigo's become quite fluent in the language Rukia speaks with no words necessary.

It makes deciphering the expressions she doesn't consciously show him all the more important because even though he's the only one who knows she's there -- and he's the only one to acknowledge her -- she still doesn't think he sees her.

It makes Ichigo angry in a way he can't explain. At least not to anyone else.

Everyone just assumes he's having one of his moods. Rukia knows him better.

Because while he's been watching her, listening to her when no one else could, it hadn't consciously occured to him until then that she'd been doing the same.

It's just as well, he brushes it off, he's got a bone to pick with her, "We're supposed to be friends."

Something in her gaze flickers, a movement along a still pond, there and gone. She doesn't deny it, but her brows furrow just a bit, and he can hear the disbelief, the confusion she doesn't say aloud, we're friends?

Ichigo scoffs, "You live in my closet, you ride on my back, I open your juice boxes even though you know how to. Of course we're friends."

Rukia huffs, incredulous, relieved. She pointedly looks away to hide the flush on her cheeks. "Well then, what are you pouting about?" "Friends tell each other things," he says. And though she nods, she also looks uncertain. Where are you going with this?

"Sometimes you look. You look sad. Or lost. Or just. Like someone's offered you a Chappy and then snatched it right out of your arms. What the hell is up with that?" Oh, her expression says. Oh. "Ichigo..."

He makes a noise like a scoff even as it's his turn to look away so she doesn't see how embarrassed he is now that the words are out, because. They don't make much sense, do they? Definitely not paired with how much of a dick he is by asking her like that. And definitely not a fair thing to bring up after the debacle with the Grand Fisher when Rukia told him she wouldn't ask about it, wouldn't go where he didn't invite her. And he couldn't even return the favour.

He's about to brush it off, brows twitching in a scowl of a dismissive whatever, more annoyed with himself than anything else, but then Rukia says, "Anger is a protective response, a way to tell yourself that you've been disrespected, hurt, and you don't like it you, don't deserve it." Then, "Are you angry at me? Have I hurt you, Ichigo?"

"No," is the immediate, reflexive reply. Because it's true. Of all the things Rukia's done -- annoyed him, drove him crazy, pissed him off -- she's never done anything with the intention of harming him.

She watches him steadily before she slowly relaxes, accepting. Then, more gentle, "Then who are you angry at?"

He thinks of the longing in her expression at the camaraderie shared, open and free, between classmates, friends, family. He thinks of the ache shaping her mouth in the sad curve of her smile; the guilty flick of her gaze as the color of her eyes shift dark and distant, like she doesn't deserve to look at it and want.

Ichigo can feel the loneliness of it at his chest, heavy and clawing, the anger crawls up his throat as he replies in a growl, "Whoever put that look on your face."

It doesn't take her long to put it together.

He knows how to read her as easily as she reads him which means Rukia knows exactly how he feels when she says, "It doesn't matter."

"Rukia," he protests.

But she touches his chest, the same place her sword had pierced him so many weeks ago, and pats it once, twice. Her smile is sad, her eyes a little glassy. It's a plea, louder than the words she says, "Let it go."

And when he doesn't, hours later, and she's gone. Well. Ichigo's angry about that too. He's angry about her note. About the closet she's left vacant like she'd never been there. About the fact that she's agreeing to go with her dick of a brother after all the shit his red haired partner was spewing.

He's angry that Rukia wants to just leave. He's angry that she was ever at risk at all, that she'd been in danger this entire time.

He's angry that he can't make her stay. That he isn't strong enough -to fight for her-to keep her-to protect her. Ichigo's angry about a lot of things, but not as much as Rukia is when she repeats, furious and tearful, "Let it go."

There's no good way for this to end, not with him alive and not with Rukia here, so it just ends right there -- with Ichigo looking up at her, rain (just rain?) clinging to their lashes; fists curled and lips thinned. Their anger is palpable as the lightning that crashes around them, their sadness as heavy as the storm.

He looks into her eyes and feels the echo of his heartbeat reverberate from his soul from hers to say: you're full of rage because you're full of grief, and god, you deserve so much better than me.

[giurochedadomani]

Tell me your name, is it sweet? He said, my boy, it's Dagger

“I still don’t know why the fuck you think it’s such a bad idea”.

It’ll be easy and fast and welcomingly bloodless, for a change. Primo’s fairly sure about it. He’ll just have to show himself to be very thankful by the dinner’s invitation, very impressed, make signore Mazza feel special, get him talking. While the mayor’s son has taken quite a liking to him as of late, it’s fairly clear that he’s much more enamoured with the sound of his own voice. Primo can convince him to give them the construction contract before the desserts arrive.

Primo’s used to weaponize his beauty. Leonardo doesn’t like it at all. Awkward conversations ensue.

Continue reading on AO3 or under the cut.

“So, you’re going. Tomorrow, I mean”.

 It takes a moment for Primo to tear his eyes away from the planes of Leonardo’s back, and more concretely from the reddish mark he’s very pleased to have left on his neck. It takes another moment for him to register what the other’s exactly talking about. He tips his head back when he does it, lets the smoke out in a sigh. 

 “I still don’t know why the fuck you think it’s such a bad idea”. 

 It’ll be easy and fast and welcomingly bloodless, for a change. Primo’s fairly sure about it. He’ll just have to show himself to be very thankful by the dinner’s invitation, very impressed, make signore Mazza feel special, get him talking. While the mayor’s son has taken quite a liking to him as of late, it’s fairly clear that he’s much more enamoured with the sound of his own voice. Primo can convince him to give them the construction contract before the desserts arrive. 

 He has used the same strategy in the past more times than he cares to count. 

 Leonardo pulls his shirt over, and Primo ignores how disappointed it makes him feel seeing him getting dressed. He pulls himself up a little, lights out the cigarette against the ashtray of his nightstand. He centers his frustration on the non committal sound with which Leonardo answers him. 

 “You don’t have to coddle me”, he insists. “If I’m being an idiot, I want to know that I’m being an idiot”. At the lack of an answer, he calls him out: “Leonardo”.  

 “...It’s a clever idea”, Leonardo concedes, despite himself. It makes Primo relax a little, because he knows his ideas are clever, but it’s always. Very nice to hear Leonardo saying so. Besides, it means that Leonardo’s on board with the plan. He’s pretty sure he can do about anything as long as he has him at his side. He can work with this. He’s just got to figure out what the other’s reserves are. “I just”, Leonardo continues. It’s baffling to Primo that he’s being so hesitant with him of all people, especially when not even half an hour has passed since he has made him come in quite a spectacular manner with those same hands he’s fumbling with his buttons with. “I think you give the guy too much credit. He might have no actual saying in who takes the contract”. 

 “He’s daddy’s boy through and through”, Primo counters, slowly. “He’s not the one signing the contract, that’s true, but if someone can put a nice word on us so the mayor does it, it’s him”, they’ve talked about it, extensively, had decided to approach Mattia Mazza because of that on the first place, in fact: “You know it”.  

 Leonardo clearly bites his tongue. It’s still not enough to prevent his… anger? What? From showing when he points out: “You’re assuming that his father values his opinion, that he’s capable of swaying him of all people, and that he’s, I don’t know, going to remember to do so”. 

 “You of all people should know that I can make myself pretty unforgettable”, Primo interrupts, very calm on purpose, his usual arrogant grin on his face. He knows that it’s fair, that Leonardo has a point, that he’s pretty much not the most charming person in any given room, and that he more often than not comes off as way too intense if not downright rude. He’s not about to admit it, though. 

 It seems to be exactly the wrong thing to say because Leonardo doesn’t rise up to the bait. His shoulders slump and he looks… sad, of all things, for some strange reason. 

 “A lot of things can happen before we sign the contract”.

 What the fuck does he mean by that. 

 Primo forces himself to set his wounded pride aside, tone down the haughty smile. He wasn’t aiming for this. He doesn’t want Leonardo to leave his house sad after the nice, very pleasant, very satisfying evening they have had. He pulls his legs closer, gesturing the other so he sits down and he gets a better look at his face.

 “Look, we’re not getting him on board with the whole plan. We’re just using him as means to an end. You don’t have to like the guy”, he gives a little shrug. “I don’t”. 

 Leonardo’s head snaps back to him and— it’s that it? Fucking really? 

 “You think that I actually like him”, Primo says. Leonardo opens his mouth, closes it, frowns, looks away.

 Primo doesn’t like Mattia. He thinks he’s very snobbish, in a terribly boring way. But what if he did like him. Would that cloud his judgement, is that what Leonardo is insinuating?

 “He’s, ah, younger”, Leonardo says, very quietly, after a beat. 

 The implication falls onto Primo like an overflowing cup. Tap, tap, tap and then he sees it clearly. He supposes it does boil down to it. To the fact that Mattia is younger than Leonardo, that he’s also taller, and leaner, and certainly better built, under that stupid, ugly suit two sizes big. That under that ridiculous snobbery he believes himself to be so modern and fashionable. It’s not Primo liking him what bothers Leonardo so much, it’s— “You think that I like him better than you”. 

 He snorts, waiting for a punchline that turns very sour when it doesn’t arrive. He reframes the conversations they have had together with the guy, Leonardo’s silences, his clipped tone, his very business like answers. He tries to think back to which moment was the one that made Leonardo believe that he’d change him. How long has he been turning a blind eye on this?

 “So, yeah. I just. I wanted to know if you’ll go”, Leonardo tries to circle back.

 Primo doesn’t let him.  

 “What, exactly, did you want to know? Whether or not I’m going to end up fucking him after the dinner?” 

 Leonardo recoils as if slapped, and Primo would feel remorse, he would, but it pisses him off to no end that they are talking in circles, given that this is clearly what the other wants to know. 

 “It’s your business”, Leonardo grits out after a moment, in the very same snippy tone he had used in their conversations together with signore Mazza. It stings. He counts Leonardo in, in whatever the hell he decides to do, every single time. It’s how they work, it’s how all of this works. Does he really think that he’d just go out, spend the night in someone else’s house, without discussing it beforehand with him? Besides, why in hell would he decide to go out with anyone else, especially that idiot of signore Mazza? 

 He likes Leonardo. He really likes him. 

 “So, you’re telling me that you wouldn’t mind”. 

 “I’m not saying anything”, Leonardo snaps back. And then he catches himself. And then he says something that makes Primo’s stomach twist unpleasantly: “I know that I have no right”. 

 Primo is brutally reminded of every single instance that he has seen Leonardo and Regina being intimate with each other through the years, the lingering looks in the middle of rooms, the brief kisses out in the open and feels the familiar, well worn twinge in his chest he hasn’t learned to ignore yet. He’s allowed to be close, now. He’s very welcomed. Leonardo doesn’t withhold his touches, not with Regina or with him. This is not a competition. Leonardo has made it clear to him, he has said so openly and often and— 

 He sighs. 

 “I—”, he grunts something that’s halfway to a curse. “I like you”. Not bad, it doesn’t sit perfectly once it’s out of his mouth, doesn’t quite finish describing what he means by that, but it seems to make Leonardo relax a little, the first time he has done so since the start of the conversation. He’ll take it. “I like the good, and whatever shit you’ve got in your head that ought to be the bad. I’m not going to—”, he hates himself, his life in its entirety, but most of all how painfully hard is to find words for this, “I won’t fuck Mattia. I don’t like the guy, don’t want him that way, and anyway I’m not going to start. Suddenly going out with. Guys. Because it’s not part of the deal, so”, whatever his line of thought was continuing fades in obscurity, given how Leonardo is looking at him. He makes a florid gesture with his hand, hopes that it conveys enough information. 

 “The deal”, Leonardo repeats, slowly. Maybe an earthquake could swallow the whole building before Leonardo actually makes him detail what he means by that. Maybe lighting could set his apartment on fire. “And you’re happy with it? The deal?” 

 Primo lets out a breath that he didn’t realize that he was holding when Leonardo doesn’t pick at his words. He observes him, the little smile with which he has asked the question, his dumb salt and pepper curls, still the very mess he has made out of them during sex, how very ridiculous he looks on his bed, with his shirt half undone. He thinks to hell with the rest, you’re mine and nods, slowly. 

 The tension bleeds away. Leonardo smiles wider. 

 “It’s late”, Primo says, suddenly, because he cannot quite believe that he actually managed to get the whole speech out, but the possibility that Leonardo might still decide to ask some more about it makes him want to fling himself out of a window. He says it before having a clear goal in his mind, his brain taking a moment to catch up. “It’d be better if you showed up in the morning, bring Regina breakfast and all”, it’s what he ends up deciding for. He says it very casually, adamantly ignoring how his heart beats faster when he does it. And, because he wants to highlight it, wants to make it so very clear Leonardo doesn’t have any more doubts about it. “We can go to Alessandro’s café in the morning. Figure something else out”. 

 He knows the mayor gets visited by high class prostitutes, has pictures to prove it. He also knows Mattia’s dealer, how much in debt he is. The mayor’s wife is the great mystery in his little family picture, but he also knows that he goes to the beauty salon every Saturday morning like clockwork. They can get that construction contract. One way or the other. 

 “That, we can do”, Leonardo agrees. His shirt hits the floor.

[miraizu]

Open Book - 5. Charisma

Open Book Ship: Chrollo Lucilfer/Reader Part: 5/?? [PREV] | [NEXT] Word count: 2,219  Warnings: None. Synopsis:  Everybody has to make a way of living. Some are hunters, some are thieves, some are just regular civilians trying to enjoy their lives. You? You’re an informant, and in York New City, a city that never sleeps, you’re about to find out just how much of a commodity that really makes you.

       Despite being dark outside, the inside of the building that Chrollo and his guest went into was bright, blindingly so.  Since you had already gotten into the building, nobody checked for your identification, something you were grateful for as you started to climb the stairs.  Chrollo would probably recognize you on sight.  You weren't in an actual disguise, and he'd have to be an idiot if he couldn't recognize you with glasses on.

       Of course, that's how most superheroes got away with stuff, it seemed.  You never really understood that.

       Keeping your gyo up was an easy enough task.  It didn't take a lot out of you anymore with how much you had honed in your nen, and so tracking all of the heat signatures with your glasses was simple.  It seemed Chrollo had gone up to the top floor - that was supposed to have a little restaurant, if you remembered correctly.  Your lips quirked upwards in amusement.  Was he on a date?

       . . . No, you doubted it.  Not only did the blue-haired teen look much too young, but you had a gut feeling that something a bit more sinister was going on.

       You avoided trouble like the plague.  You could handle yourself well, that wasn't the issue, but you weren't one for a lot of hustle and bustle.  Ironic, considering you were possibly York New City's most competent informant and information gatherer, but true.  When possible, you tried to stay out of trouble.  It's why you didn't work with the mafia, and why you avoided the Phantom Troupe like the plague.  However...  Your curiosity seemed to deter this.  You couldn't help it - even before you learned nen, had developed your hatsu, you had always been insanely curious.  Maybe it was because you had grown up in a city where nobody knew anything about themselves, but since you could remember you had been obsessed with knowing as much as possible.

       Warning flags were going off.  Your intuition was sharp, and you had a feeling that, by following Chrollo and his teenage companion, you were probably getting yourself into something you didn't want to get into.  You couldn't stop, though.  Curiosity drove you - something about Chrollo Lucilfer had caught your attention, and you weren't going to just ignore it.  You had to get to the bottom of this.

       Entering the dining area, you made sure to stay inconspicuous.  Thankfully, his back was to the entrance, he was too busy discussing something with the blue-haired teen, and you picked the seat closest to the exit.  Asking for a menu, you looked at it but didn't actually look at it, pretending to read the items and ordering a water.  The entire time, you kept an eye on the two over by the window.  At some point, the woman held out a piece of paper, and your eyes widened at the strange creature hovering over her.  Immediately, you connected the dots.

       That must be the infamous fortune teller, Neon Nostrade.  To think it was all her hatsu...  It shouldn't be that surprising.

       Using gyo on both your eyes and ears was a bit straining, but you managed to eavesdrop on them.  Unfortunately, Chrollo didn't read his fortune out loud, but his reaction must have startled Neon as she got worried.  Chrollo reassured her he was fine and mentioned a friend had passed recently, and the two got up.  They started to walk back, and you lowered the menu for a moment to make eye contact with Chrollo.  Silver eyes widened, albeit barely noticeable, and the hint of a smile played on his lips before his face went back to neutral.  You allowed yourself to smile wryly in turn, giving the smallest of nods as they left the dining area.

       Taking one last sip of your water, you counted to 15 before getting up and leaving yourself, making it seem casual.  Of course, your outfit didn't help for blending in.  You easily ignored the leers of the mafioso, holding your chin up high with an air of superiority that seemed to scream at everybody, 'Don't even try, I'm out of your league'.

       You almost went downstairs, but something stopped you - you could see Chrollo's heat signature coming back up, and a bit behind him, was somebody following him.  You paused outside the restaurant entrance in the hallway, keeping your face still.  He wasn't the only one being followed.  You cursed yourself for not noticing earlier, but you felt eyes on your back, and you held back the urge to scowl.  Instead, you slowly began to walk.

       There was no reason for somebody to be following you - unless, that is, Chrollo had done something and they thought you were an accomplice.  How bothersome.  Judging by the way Chrollo's heat signature was slowly ascending the building, you assumed he'd be heading towards the observation deck and decided it may be in your best interest to meet him there and lure out your stalker.

       With calculated steps, you began to walk, and soon the people around thinned out, leaving you alone in a dim hallway.  Knowing you were still being followed, you stopped, hand sliding to your thigh to get ready to take out one of your daggers if need be.

       "Why are you following me?"

       You didn't turn around, and didn't hear the footsteps.  You could sense he was there, though, and turned around, noting how he stayed silent.  It wasn't just some ordinary thug - this guy was an assassin, although definitely not one of the better ones.  If it was a Zoldyck, you probably would have been none the wiser for a while longer.

       You let out a long sigh, feeling yourself grow weary from lack of sleep.  The man was dark-skinned and tall, with purple hair and a wooden mask covering his face.  In his hands was a type of scythe, although you didn't recognize what it was specifically.  An elongated sickle, maybe?

       Hand still on your thigh, you raised an eyebrow, making your hatsu glasses finally disappear, making it seem as if they sunk back into your face.

       "Well?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.  "Are you going to attack?"

       He darted forward, and in the blink of an eye you drew your dagger out and threw it forward with scarily accurate precision, piercing the blade straight through the wooden mask and into his right eye, killing him without him even hurting you.

       You withdrew the dagger after the assassin's corpse fell to the ground with a heavy thud.  Bending down, you wiped your dagger on the leapord loincloth he wore, making sure it was clean before you strapped it back to your thigh.  After a moment of contemplation, you activated Open Book, touching his arm before opening the journal.  You probably should have made him touch it, but it was too late to dwell on that now, you supposed.

       You were correct in assuming he was a small shot assassin, and felt somewhat disappointed.  And baffled.  You had never been targeted so blatantly before, meaning you may have gotten yourself into more trouble than it was worth, following Chrollo and all.  No backing out, though.  Curiosity had a stronghold on you, and you wanted to get to the bottom of this.

       Picking the corpse up by the back of his shirt, you dragged him down the hall and towards the observation deck, a displeased frown marring your features.  It wasn't that far of a walk, and you didn't bother to conceal yourself as you entered the open room, just in time for the windows to start descending.

       The fish had startled you as they dissolved into air - some sort of nen ability, although you must have missed it in action.  Ignoring the assassin pinned against the wall whose body - well, what remained of it - slid down the wall, you tossed the guy you had killed towards Chrollo's feet.  In a suit and tie, he stood in the middle of the room, facing towards the open window and looking out towards the city.  When he didn't face you, your frown only grew.

       "Mind telling me why somebody tried to kill me?"

       Finally, he looked back at you over his shoulder, silver eyes twinkling in amusement.  "Later."

       You bristled, but held your tongue, not immature enough to lash out.  He looked like he was suppressing a smile, and his eyes didn't waver from your own.  "After all, the show's about to begin."

       Show?  You had no clue what he was talking about as he turned back towards the window, raising his arms for a moment.  Great.  Underneath those gorgeous looks and clear muscle definition was a weirdo.

       It was silent, only for a moment.  Then, the first explosion happened and Chrollo's arms dropped, as if he was a conductor orchestrating a song of destruction.  If he was aware of you drawing nearer, he didn't acknowledge it.  You came to stand beside him, eyebrows furrowed as chaos reigned below, a cacophony of distant screams hitting your ears.  It was as unnerving as it was heart-wrenching.  It was a symphony of sorrow - a requiem for the fallen.  You put together the pieces of the puzzle but stayed quiet, mulling over it all.

       After what felt like ages, Chrollo had finished, and you could have sworn you saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes.  They were gone as soon as they had appeared, to the point where you could have believed you had imagined it.

       "Chrollo Lucilfer," you hummed, grabbing his attention.  "You're in the Phantom Troupe.  The leader, I assume?"

       He looked back at you with an amused smile, and while you kept your face neutral, you could feel your heart skip just a tiny bit.  It was unfair for a criminal, a notorious murderer and thief, to look so breathtaking.  Weren't criminals supposed to be hideous or something?

       He repeated your full name with just as much certainty.  "The best informant of York New City.  Our reputations precede us, it seems."

       You were unhappy with the outcome of this situation - you had been actively avoiding interaction with the Troupe, and yet had happened to approach the leader of all people.  Running a hand through your hair, you closed your eyes for a moment, gathering your thoughts.  You were aware that his gaze was still lingering on you, waiting for a response.

       "What a mess," you finally muttered, scowling.  "Now that I know you're a part of the Troupe, I'm not interested anymore."

       "Oh?"

       You gave him a wry smile and a shrug.  "I want nothing to do with you all, so I'll leave you be.  I'm not stupid enough to attempt to go against you all."

       Turning around, you had managed to take one step before he made a move.  You sensed him and reacted instantly as his hand wrapped around your wrist.  With your free hand, you had grabbed one of the daggers strapped to your thigh, whirling around and aiming it straight at his neck; but he was quicker.  His other hand grabbed your other wrist, and you kicked your leg out in an attempt to destabilize him only for it to backfire.  Not used to fighting in taller heels, you fell backwards, the other heel breaking off with a jarring snap as your back collided with the floor, Chrollo hovering over you and pinning your wrists down.  His grip tightened, enough for you to release the dagger and allow it to clamor to the ground as well.

       The altercation didn't take more than a few seconds, yet you felt out of breath as you glowered up at him, keeping a steely gaze.  You weren't afraid of him - in the end, he was just another asshole to you.

       Acutely aware of how close you two were, his body nearly pressed up against yours, your cool facade faltered, and you felt your face start to heat-up in a manner reminiscent to a crushing school girl.

       "Get off."  Your voice was hardened, and you thanked the stars above it didn't waver.  Despite the even tone, Chrollo's smile widened, and he didn't make a move.

       "Will you listen to me, or will you try to leave?"

       Neither.  You honestly would rather drive your knife into his neck for putting you in such an embarrassing and compromising position, but you weren't foolish enough to believe you'd be able to carry that plan out, especially if he was expecting you to do exactly that.  Meeting his gaze defiantly, you repeated your demand with more conviction.

       After a moment, he relented, although he took his sweet time in standing up, much to your annoyance.  Sitting up, and rubbing the back of your head where it had collided with the floor, you looked down at your broken heel with a forlorn expression.  Great.  Those had been pretty nice, and there was no way to repair that.  Kicking off the other heel, you figured you'd just deal with the consequences of walking around barefoot.  That should be the least of your concerns, anyways.

       A hand was placed gently in front of you, courtesy of Chrollo.  You stood up without grabbing it, glaring at him all the while.  "You wanted me to listen?  Then talk."

       Chrollo's smile never wavered, thoughtful eyes piercing straight through you.

       "I need you."

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 11

Are people actually reading this? lol. Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

Word Count: 2,924

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

PLEASE let me know what you think

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

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

“You are the most annoying boy on the planet!” Zoey laughed, gently rubbing her face with a cleanser as the hot steam engulfed her in the shower, “It’s baffling why so many girls are obsessed with you!”

Harry’s laugh echoed throughout the bathroom, almost sounding robotic from her phone’s speakers, “You were one of those girls before, don’t forget!”

She let the water rinse off the suds and quipped, “Yeah, well that was before I knew you. Besides, I liked Louis more.”

Harry gasped, “Take it back!”

She let out a giggle, lathering shampoo into her hands when a knock sounded at the door, “Zoey?” Nancy called, “Were you talking to me? I thought I heard you.”

“No, I’m just on the phone with Harry! He won’t leave me alone!”

Nancy chuckled, “Annoying piece of shit! Remind me why people obsess over him?”

“That’s what I said!”

The girls laughed and Nancy’s voice faded as she walked away from the door saying, “Okay, I’m heading out now. See you tonight!”

  Harry spoke again, “You two are bullies.”

“I’m trying to get ready and you won’t let me hang up!”

“For what? It’s 10 AM there! You barely got six hours of sleep after work last night, and you go back again tonight!”

“Alright, don’t you have anything better to do than memorize my work schedule and chart my sleeping habits? Like, I don’t know, perform a concert?”

“I’m off today, thank you very much!” Harry spat back. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to watch movies all day or to kidnap any more stray cats?”

“For your information, I’m going out!”

“Yeah? Where to? Another date with Brett?” Harry snorted, jokingly. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, more seriously, “Wait, really? You’re going on a date with Brett?”

“I wouldn’t call it a date…”

“Zoey!” He whined.

“What? We’re just hanging out! Andy will be there, too!”

It’s been a few weeks since Harry’s last visit, and things seemed to be going back to normal, although a few incidents worth mentioning had happened. The morning of his departure was probably the single most embarrassing moment of her life. Zoey had gotten up early. Super early. Her internal alarm clock was out of whack that day, for some reason, and so she had the pleasure of seeing the awkward morning after scene when Harry dropped Rory back off at the apartment. 

It must have been around 5 AM because it was still dark, but a faint blue was visible on the horizon. Zoey was making a cup of coffee in the dark kitchen, not wanting to turn the lights on and blind herself, when the door opened and the two stumbled in, Harry in comfortable sweats while Rory wore the same dress as the night before, crinkled now, and her long brown hair in knots. If she didn’t know Rory any better, she would have guessed she was drunk. But she knew that Rory was just clumsy when she was tired. They seemed to not notice her as he led her straight to her bedroom. But on his way out, they caught eyes and Harry gasped at the sight of her.

“Were you there when we got in?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen.

“Yes, and how very gentlemanly of you to bring my roommate back. I trust you had a good night,” she quietly joked, not wanting to wake anyone, while stirring the milk in her coffee and tapping the excess off the spoon.

Harry rolled his eyes, walking further into the dark kitchen and reaching for a mug out of the cupboard, “Yeah, it was alright.”

“Alright?” she questioned quietly, rounding the island and taking a seat on the furthest barstool. “You can’t blame poor performances on inebriation this time, H. You didn’t have a sip of alcohol last night.”

“You really are the worst,” he grinned, pouring himself a cup of coffee and silently spilling the milk in. 

It was so silent that you could barely hear Brett sneaking up behind Zoey, shirtless and only in his boxes, looping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck, moaning in his thick Australian accent, “Was wondering where you went. You were incredible last night. You up for more?”

The clank of Harry’s spoon against his mug as he stirred caught Brett’s attention and he jumped back, “Fuck!” he shouted, clutching his muscular chest, “Hey, Harry! Didn’t see you there.”

“Morning,” Harry muttered, expressionless.

“Morning,” Brett repeated, looking down to see Zoey burying her face in her hands, embarrassed. He continued, “You, uh, heading out today?”

“Yeah, just grabbing a cup of coffee before I go,” he motioned down to his mug.

Brett awkwardly chuckled, shifting on his feet, “Alright. Well, uh, safe...safe travels. I’m just gonna, uh, head back to bed.”

Harry nodded and quietly called after him, “See you later.”

Once Brett was out of sight, Zoey peeked through the cracks in her fingers at Harry who’s eyebrows were raised, waiting for her to say something. Instead, she laughed, which made the singer crack a smile.

“I trust you had a good night,” he mocked her, taking a sip of his coffee.

“It was alright,” she poked fun back.

“Well, from the sounds of it, it was way more than alright,” he said, rounding the island and sitting beside her.

“Maybe for him,” she whispered to herself.

“The kissing again?”

She furrowed her eyebrows in thought, groaning, “Yeah, I don’t know what it is. Everything else is great, I just can’t get past the horrible kissing.”

“Well have you told him?”

“I’m not a monster, I would never!” she laughed, “I just try to avoid kissing.”

He chuckled, sarcastically saying, “Nice. That’ll help.” After a moment of awkward silence he spoke again, “Can we just agree to never have a morning-after-sex run in ever again?”

“Yep, absolutely. Never again. Totally awkward,” she hurriedly agreed.

Later that day there were pictures circulating of the two of them at the beach. Fans had pretty much shut down the idea of them dating almost immediately, thankfully, but they did seem to make a connection between Zoey to Aurora and rumors began circulating about Harry and the model, which didn’t exactly help any when Harry was still trying to figure out what to do about that whole situation.

Zoey, on the other hand, had seemed to be getting better. She still missed her friend and would think of her often when she was alone but was able to enjoy her nights out now without feeling guilty. She had gone on a couple of dates with some guys she had met, though it never went anywhere. They just weren’t her type. Still, she had Brett. He had picked back up where he left off, coming over often to hang out with Zoey and her roommates.

Brett had become so close to Nancy and Rory that sometimes she’d come home from work and the three of them would be sitting on the couch or out on the balcony without Zoey knowing he would even be over that day. She didn’t mind, though. They always had fun together. Besides, every now and then after her roommates had gone to bed she would take Brett back to her room. Obviously her roommates knew something was going on between the two of them, and they knew that it wasn’t necessarily anything serious or official, but that didn’t stop them from making haughty eyes at her whenever they woke up to find that Brett was still there in the morning.

Harry clearly didn’t understand the situation with Brett, although Zoey never went into much detail about it with him. He just didn’t get the point of sleeping with someone continuously with no intention of taking it further. “You’ve been on other dates, you can clearly sleep with anyone you want. Why keep going back to Brett if you have no interest in him?” he always asked her. And it was a fair question, but she didn’t really know how to answer it. Because it was easy? Because she didn’t have to work hard for it? Because she knew him and she felt comfortable? Maybe a mix of all three? Honestly, maybe it was just because she could. Why did it matter, anyway? 

Harry continued to annoy Zoey, refusing to hang up the phone while she got ready for her ‘outing’ until there was a knock on his hotel room door. With his phone to his ear, listening to Zoey ramble on about newly learned, surprisingly interesting facts of Rome, he squinted through the peephole to see his friend and guitarist, Mitch. He opened the door for his friend and just as Mitch was about to speak, he noticed the phone against Harry’s ear and quickly shut his mouth, following the singer inside, and having a seat on the edge of his bed while Harry sat at the desk chair.

Mitch watched as Harry’s eyes widened and his smile grew, letting out a roar of a laugh, “You made that up!” The guitarist couldn’t help but smile at his friend's amusement. They caught eyes and almost as if Harry realized that Mitch was in the room, Harry cleared his throat and said, “Alright, well I’ll let you finish getting ready….Yeah, whatever. Goodluck. Bye.”

The phone went black and Harry looked up to see a smiling Mitch, “Zoey?”

Harry tried his best to conceal a grin, narrowing his eyes and placing his phone face down on the desk, “I don’t want to hear it.”

Mitch smirked, teasing him, “You sure it’s Rory you like and not Zoey?”

“Come on, man,” Harry whined, “She’s just one of my best friends, that’s all. If you met her you would know. She’s not even my type.”

“All I’m saying is I’ve seen you around Rory, and she’s a great girl, but I don’t see you smile nearly as much with her as you do when you’re talking to or about Zoey. Plus, I’ve seen her pictures. You can’t tell me that you don’t think she’s hot.”

“Of course she’s fucking hot, but that doesn’t change anything. I like Rory.”

“Yeah? Is that why you haven’t asked her out yet?”

“Oh, shut it!” Harry groaned, kicking Mitch’s legs, “She’s just a friend.”

But a little part of him worried. Mitch wasn’t the only one to tell him that. Most of his friends would comment on it whenever they caught him on the phone or talked about his little trips out to LA. They all knew of Zoey because he had mentioned her. And he realized after a few people pointed it out, that he had talked about her often. It was normal to talk about your best friends, he thought. But any time he mentioned something, they’d give him a look like he was hiding something and it started to have him second guess things. 

Did he like Zoey? He found himself wanting to talk to her every day, and that’s a pretty telltale sign of a crush. Yeah, he accidentally fantasized about her once or twice, but he did that with nearly any girl he met. Hell, he fantasized about Nancy at one point, that didn’t mean he wanted to date her. Despite what everyone thought, it IS possible to just be friends with someone of the opposite sex without wanting to sleep with them. He liked Rory. There was nothing to not like. She was sexy, smart, cultured, and made him laugh. It just wasn’t the right time to get serious, that’s all.

Zoey put on a white cropped tee, borrowed Nancy’s black denim skirt, and pulled her hair into a ponytail, deciding on a pair of converse before heading downtown to meet up with Andy and Brett for a bite to eat. They decided to sit outside on the restaurant's terrace to enjoy the beautiful warm weather. Their server, a cute, button nosed redhead, kept making eyes at Brett the whole entire time, checking in on them a little more than she probably needed to.

“If you were American you wouldn’t be getting this much attention,” Andy clicked his tongue, taking a bite of his potatoes, making Zoey laugh. Andy turned to her and waved his fork at her, “Uht uh, you not allowed to laugh. You been takin’ this fool to your bed for months now.”

It was Brett’s turn to laugh and Zoey shoved both of them, “I’m only using him for sex,” she joked.

Andy chuckled, “Period!”

“I’m not complaining,” Brett smirked, sipping his drink.

“Duh! Why would you complain when you get to see these beauties,” Andy grabbed Zoey’s chest and gave her breasts a quick squeeze.

Zoey laughed, looking at Brett, “You’re welcome.”

After another hour or so of eating, they decided to walk up and down the strip for a bit. But not before Brett got the waitress’s number. 

The three of them went in and out of little boutiques, mostly window shopping, although Andy bought himself a cute black-rimmed fedora hat when Brett shoved his phone in his back pocket and said, “Rory is going to meet up with us in a few.”

“Oh, did she get done early?” Zoey asked, checking her phone to see if she had any missed calls or texts from her. Nothing.

Brett nodded, “Yeah, she said she’s only a couple minutes out so I told her we’d meet her at the pretzel shop up here.”

Even just in the last few weeks, Rory’s career had skyrocketed. It was now to the point where she got recognized on the street and paparazzi would publish her in magazines on outings. Her DM’s were filled with famous and non-famous people, and still, she was the sweetest girl Zoey had ever met. Harry was lucky to have met her when he did. And honestly stupid for not giving her an answer yet. 

Things had been a little weird between her and Rory since Harry’s last visit, though. She couldn’t help but think that Rory was mad at her for something. Maybe it was because of the paparazzi shot of her and Harry at the beach. Or maybe her friendship with Harry annoyed her. She asked Nancy, but Nancy just shoved it off, saying Rory was probably just stressed about work and she had nothing to worry about. Still, something felt off. 

Rory had on a black bodysuit with denim shorts, a black belt, a brown blazer, and a black fedora, making sure to wear large black sunglasses. She and Brett walked side by side as Andy and Zoey walked a little further behind them, laughing at each other and joking around. They spotted an ice cream shop and called out to the other two.

“Hey! We’re going to stop for ice cream!” Andy informed them. “Want any?” Rory and Brett looked at each other and both shook their heads no. He continued, “Alright! Well, we should get going soon. We gotta change for work. Meet you there?” he asked Brett.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at work!” Brett nodded, and he and Rory walked off.

“At least she’s with Brett in case she gets noticed,” Zoey pointed out, “He’s big enough to look like a bodyguard. No one will want to mess with her.”

“Speaking of, what’s going on with her and Harry? Are they official yet, or what?”

Zoey shrugged, “Dunno.”

She was honestly so confused about them anymore. Zoey stopped bringing it up to Harry because he kept up the same sorry excuse that he always did. She didn’t even know if they were still even a thing. Sure, Aurora spoke of Harry every now and then, but it always seemed so casual and in passing. She didn’t drool over him like she used to. Maybe she was getting tired of waiting for him, which was exactly what Zoey warned him of. 

Andy shook his head, “Man, it really is all men that are dumb. That’s a damn shame if he misses out on her.”

Zoey nodded in agreement, but a part of her was always a little unsure about the prospect of them dating. I mean, Harry had pointed it out before; Aurora fit every category of the type of girl he always dated. She was a beautiful, skinny, successful model. Zoey would be lying if she said she didn’t want him to venture outside of that mold a little bit. Sure, all of their personalities were different, but maybe there was a reason that none of his relationships worked out. He needed something different.

She had to admit, it annoyed her a little bit when his fans were so quick to shut the idea down of herself and Harry dating because she wasn’t the kind of girl he dated. Not because she wanted to date him or anything. But it almost felt as if people knew that she wasn’t good enough for him because she didn’t have the typical lifestyle that the girls he usually dates did. She knew she was just as pretty and as smart and as funny as the rest of them, but because she didn’t have a social media following, there’s no way Harry would touch her. She just wanted him to prove everyone wrong. Not with her, of course. That would be absurd. But with someone. 

However, Rory was perfect. In all sense of the word. And again, he’d be stupid to let her go.

KEEP READING

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

Taglist:

@thurhomish​

[jenonctcity]

Chances - Part 6

Na Jaemin/Huang Renjun – Fluff/Angst

Ex-husband!Jaemin/Husband!Renjun

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: None.

Request: Requested by anon – Your past with Jaemin, the pregnancy, the divorce, and how you meet and marry Renjun.

A/N: Just in case this is confusing for anyone, this is part of the Chances series. It does go with the current story of Chances and is going to be set out like a timeline of the events that happened before the series took place. However, it can be read as a standalone piece or like a prequel. But I would recommend checking out the other parts of this series if you get confused. Hope you enjoy!

 Meeting Jaemin:

University was kicking your ass. Between your daily classes and your demanding job at a restaurant, you were left feeling tired and emotionally drained. You didn’t have a choice but to carry on though, money being tight and your education costing you far too much money to skip any nugget of information they were willing to provide you. You had little to no social life, the only person you really interacted with was with your roommate, who herself wasn’t much of a talker. Loneliness consumed you at all the wrong times, it mostly happened late at night after a shift at the restaurant. You’d tuck yourself into bed and let out a sigh, wishing you could cross the room and nudge your roommate awake for a chat. But you didn’t know the girl well enough to do that and you were almost certain it would make her dislike you.

The day you tripped down a couple of steps at university from not paying attention to your feet as much as someone as tired as you were should have, was the day that changed your life. Your wrist was causing agony to throb through your nerves, all your pain receptors on red alert and forcing you to call in sick to work to head to the emergency room. It was absolutely heaving with people of all ages due to it being a Friday evening. There were only 3 seats left available and you weighed up your options as you studied the people, they were situated next to. A drunk couple who both had similar cuts on their foreheads, you could only assume they’d done something highly dumb to end up with those injuries. An old man who was slouching into the free seat next to him as he started dozed off, his eyes dark underneath like he hadn’t slept in weeks. He looked like he tried to fight off sleep until he started to have a coughing fit, sitting up straight and coughing into his hands. And finally, a young man who had bleached blonde hair dyed a light pink, dressed from head to toe in a black adidas tracksuit, his arms folded across his chest and his knee jittering as he waited. You were unaware what he was waiting to be seen for as you couldn’t see any physical injuries on him, but as you looked between all three options again, you decided he was the lucky winner.

You quickly approached him, hugging your wrist to your chest as you cleared your throat, gaining his attention as he looked up at you.

“Is this seat taken?” You asked, smiling weakly at him.

“No, go ahead.” He copied your smile, watching you for a moment as you sat beside him. You looked around the emergency room, trying to find something remotely entertaining to watch, also regretting that you didn’t bring the book you’d been trying to finish for the past 2 months with you. “What did you do to your wrist? Or is it your hand?” You heard the boy ask you, his voice deep and his tone was warm.

“I er…tripped down some stairs.” You looked at him and laughed softly. “Not my finest moment.” You winced as you jostled your wrist by accident when you moved it to your lap instead of cradling it to your chest. “What are you in here for? You don’t look like you did something dumb and injured yourself.” You tried to joke with him, this being your only form of entertainment. The longer you looked at the handsome boy the more you became self-conscious of you what you assumed was your messy state. You hadn’t actually seen your reflection since you’d left your dorm that morning, but you presumed your hair had gotten messier, and your mascara had smudged from the tears you’d shed upon your unexpected meeting with the hard ground.

“Oh no I’m not here for me, I’m just here as support.” He flashed you a wide smile, motioning to the boy sitting beside him whose eyes were swollen shut. “Dummy over here forgot about his hay fever allergies and went running through a field of flowers like Bambi on crack.” He sniggered when his friend reached out to hit him but missed due to his lack of eyesight. Merely swiping at the air and just missing someone as they walked past.

“Hey! just because I can’t see doesn’t mean I can’t hear, you ass.” His friend whined, folding his arms over his chest like a disgruntled child. You giggled at the two of them, your eyes feeling crusty from the dried tears when your smile reached your eyes.

“Pipe down Jeno, you’re lucky I brought you here and didn’t just leave you to blindly make your way here after you drank my banana milk.” Jeno didn’t reply, only sinking further into his seat as he sulked. Jaemin turned his head back to you and smiled again, his eyes raking over the span of your face and he couldn’t help but think about how naturally beautiful you looked. Even if you did have smudged eye makeup and needed to comb your hair. “What’s your name?”

“(Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you (Y/N), I’d shake your hand, but I kind of can’t right now.” He smiled warmly when his attempt of a joke made you giggle.

“Maybe some other time.” You didn’t realise what your words insinuated even after you’d said them. But he noticed straight away, nodding his head eagerly.

“I hope so…I’m Jaemin.”

 The Pregnancy:

Your relationship with Jaemin had been going strong for the past 7 years. In that time, you’d both finished your education and secured jobs that were not only financially stable, but also gave you good amounts of time to be together, unlike the jobs you both held back when you first met and started dating. On your five-year anniversary, Jaemin had popped the question to you and within a year you were named Mrs Na.  You also both agreed to move out of your cosy – Jaemin would call it cramped, but you preferred cosy – apartment, and move into one with more room for your family to grow. It started off with the two of you getting a hamster, which Jaemin wanted to name Megatron Fire Blaze, but you shot that idea down with a death stare and the hamster ended up being named Tony.

A few months after your seven-year anniversary you’d dropped the pregnancy bomb onto Jaemin. He was thrilled and wasn’t too proud to admit he bawled his eyes out like teenage girl watching a sad movie about a tragic love story. Your pregnancy was going smoothly apart from the tiny feet that would aggressively kick your insides every now and then. You were also certain your baby was learning to tap dance and using your bladder as its dance floor, also, the uncomfortable and inconvenient need to pee was starting to drive you insane.

“What do you think of the name Sooyoung for if it’s a girl?” Jaemin asked, neither of you facing each other as you laid with your back pressed to his chest in the bed. The turned down sound of a movie neither of you were paying attention to on the television acted as background noise as you both focussed more on your conversation. Despite both of you having your eyes trained onto the movie, neither of you could tell someone what was going on with the storyline if asked.

“Hmm…no I’m not feeling it.” You sighed in annoyance, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. “Our baby is never going to have a name at this rate, I just don’t like any names anyone is suggesting!” Jaemin remained silent for a moment, not being able to see much of your face from the angle he was laying at.

“You’re not going to cry are you…?” He was still learning to deal with the crazy ways your hormones would affect your moods. It still baffled him how one second you could be laughing at a funny post you’d seen on twitter and then the next you were crying about how you couldn’t reach the remote for the tv without getting up from the comfort of the sofa. He would often think back to the time Jeno commented on how your hair looked really full and colourful during your pregnancy and instead of taking it as a compliment you’d started crying in Jaemin’s arms, stating how horrible your hair must look normally and how you were just going to shave it off. Jeno had paled and immediately tried to backtrack on his words. The poor boy feeling the wrath of your pregnancy hormones. He tried not to laugh at the memory when you were around, just in case you asked him why he was laughing.

“No…” You bottom lip wobbled as you tried to hold it together, willing the tears to go away.

“What about…Joohyun? Seulgi?” You elbowed Jaemin in the ribs gently, causing him to groan as you turned to face him with your eyebrows pulling into a scowl.

“Now you’re just naming the members of Red Velvet!” He looked like a deer caught in the headlights as you caught onto his idea.

“Sorry!” He paused as he racked his brains, his lips pouting as his thoughts ran wild. “I like Mihyun.”

“Mihyun…” The name rolled off your tongue nicely as you repeated it again and again before concluding. “I love it, if our baby is a girl its Mihyun.” You smiled warmly, snuggling into Jaemin’s hold as much as you could with your big bump in the way. You both remained quiet for a while before Jaemin piped up.

“If it’s a boy, he shall be named Optimus Prime.”

“We are not naming our baby after a transformer!!!”

 The Divorce:

Na Mihyun was born on the 3rd of August. You and Jaemin had never felt more overjoyed and filled with love as what you did when you held the tiny infant in your arms for the first time. The second Jaemin heard the shrill cries of his daughter, the tears he couldn’t keep in rolled down his cheeks from pent up emotions popping like an overfilled balloon. Neither one of you could wait to take home the little life that was a symbol of your love for one another. However, things started to go sour within weeks.

The first argument was caused from Jaemin going out late with a few of his work friends. It didn’t bother you that he was going out and having fun, what bothered you was the text he sent you at 11pm that read ‘Will be another hour, don’t wait up’ after he’d promised you he’d be in before 11. It sent a spark of irritation amongst your body, but you tried to ignore it, knowing he had every right to go out and have some fun after being cooped up at home for the past few months with you. The hour passed and there was still no sign of Jaemin. After another half an hour you decided to call him, but he didn’t answer. Anxiety acted like a flood around you as the thought of him being hurt raided your mind, and the stress of being a new mother on your own and losing your husband began to make you sink in the pool on anxiety. You drowned in the feeling and it brought on a panic attack. You thanked god that Mihyun hadn’t woken up during that time, not knowing if you could have coped. He stumbled into the apartment at 4am, waking up your new-born and the anger pent up inside you. You gave him the silent treatment for a day before a big argument blew up, harsh words exchanged between you.

More arguments ensued throughout the next couple of months. Arguments over petty things, and you found that the two of you would argue for the sake of arguing at times. Leading to Jaemin spending most nights sleeping on the sofa, a hostile air between the two of you. You were miserable. And you didn’t want to feel like that when you should be enjoying your baby girl’s life. You didn’t want Jaemin feeling that way either. With the headspace you were in, you didn’t think there was any other options other than to go your separate ways.

“Jaemin, I need to talk to you.” You’d cornered him in the kitchen where you’d just come from your bedroom after putting Mihyun down for her afternoon nap.

“About what?” You longed for the days when his tone was soft, bringing comfort to you when you needed it the most. You’d already had a disagreement that morning, so his tone was unfriendly towards you. He turned to look at you from where he was making a sandwich on the kitchen counter, furrowing his eyebrows at your face as you silently cried. You heart breaking at the words you were about to drop on him.

“I can’t do this anymore…what happened to us? We hardly ever act like a loving couple anymore Jaemin and we can’t agree on anything anymore. I don’t want to fight every day; I just want a peaceful life with my daughter.” You gulped, starting to sob as you shook your head. His stomach sank, unease settling in the pit of his gut as he knew what you were about to say. “I want a divorce.”

“(Y/N) no…please we can work on this!” He abandoned his half-made sandwich, feeling numb and not knowing what to do other than to beg you to stay with him. “Baby don’t leave me.” He rushed to you, trying to take your hands in his own but you snatched them away, shaking your head and taking a step back.

“No…please just pack your things and go.”

“But I still love you…” He whispered, his voice cracking as a sob left his lips. You sighed, turning your back to him.

“Go.”

 Meeting Renjun:

Your divorce went through a lot quicker than you expected, and within a few months you were back to being a Miss. Life as a single mother was surprisingly easier than you thought, but that was probably because Mihyun was only just half a year old and had only just mastered the art of sitting up on her own. She had started to teeth also, which meant many sleepless nights for you, but you didn’t care because she was your only priority. You knew times would get tougher as she got older, but you couldn’t worry about it until it happened. After you and Jaemin separated, you both decided neither of you should keep the apartment, and you both moved into your own apartments. So even after living your new home for a month, you were still in the midst of decorating the place to your standards, loving that no one could tell you what you could and couldn’t put up on the walls. You did miss Jaemin, but you didn’t dwell on the feeling, knowing it wasn’t mentally healthy for you to live in the past when you had a whole fresh start ahead of you.

The apartment building you moved into was a new build, so all the apartments were slowly getting filled up with residents. All morning you could hear scuffling noises coming from the previously empty apartment next-door, so you assumed someone now occupied the living space. You went on with your day as you normally would, entertaining Mihyun as she tried to crawl around. In the end you put her in her walker, letting her cruise around the apartment to her own free will. You were engrossed in a silly tv programme that made little to no sense when a knock echoed through the halls.

“One Second!” You called out as you rose from the sofa, noting that Mihyun was fine in her walker. “You going to follow mumma?” You giggled when she grinned at you with her new front teeth, waddling after you in the confines of her walker. You smiled when you opened the door, met with an attractive man who looked to be around your own age. He had dark brown hair with matching brown eyes, his smile warm as he bowed to you.

“Hello! I just moved in next door, so I thought I’d come introduce myself.” He motioned his head towards his apartment as he spoke. “My name is Renjun.” He held his hand out to you and you quickly shook his hand with a smile. You detected an accent as he spoke Korean but couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was.

“I’m (Y/N), its nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, is it just you living here?” You noticed his glance at your hand, missing the slight raise of his eyebrows when he saw no wedding ring on your finger.

“No actually, I have this little terror living here too.” You opened the door wider to reveal your daughter, still sat in her walker and staring up at Renjun with wide curious eyes.

“Oh look at you!” He gasped, crouching down to her height and admiring the beauty of the baby. “What’s her name?”

“Mihyun.” You smiled in pride as you watched him coo over your child.

“Hi princess, aren’t you beautiful?” He chuckled when she pointed a hand at him and starting to giggle at him.

“She already likes you.” You folded your arms across your chest and leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m glad I have her approval.” He looked up at you with a soft smile, standing back up to his full height. “Well if you need anything then you know where I live.” He nodded his head at you, his eyes lingering on your face. You blushed, bowing to him.

“Thank you, same to you too.” You said your goodbyes and he headed back to his apartment. “Did you like him my little pickle?” You plucked Mihyun out of her walker to hold her to your chest. “He was nice wasn’t he?”

 Marrying Renjun:

A month after you’d met Renjun for the first time, he’d asked you out on a date. You hadn’t told Jaemin when he’d come to pick up Mihyun for the night, not wanting him to get upset about you moving on so quickly. At first you were hesitant whether to go on a date at all, but you didn’t want to let the opportunity of dating someone as lovely and kind as Renjun pass up. So, you took the plunge, went on a date with Renjun, and had an amazing night that you’d never forget. When Renjun proposed to you on your one-year anniversary, you took a week to give him your answer. Hesitant at first about marriage purely for the purpose that you’d already been married once and that hadn’t worked out. But after some deep thought and a long conversation with Jaemin about what went wrong in your marriage to him, you said yes. 10 months later you walked down the aisle and married Renjun, labelling him as the love of your life in your wedding vows. You didn’t know this, but Jaemin winced when he heard you say that. He went to your wedding despite the ache it caused in his heart, only going to show his support to you and not wanting gossip going around about his absence if he didn’t go.

You also moved apartments again. Renjun and you both moving into another apartment that was slightly bigger with the hopes of expanding your family at some point. Although you didn’t like that someone else now had a say in what you decorated the apartment with. Mihyun loved having Renjun living with you, him spoiling her with everything she wanted as soon as she told him her wanted it. He was good at acting like a father, but he knew he’d never take her own fathers place, which he didn’t want to do. But he loved her like she was his own flesh and blood, and he’d do anything for her. You hoped that this marriage was the start to your dream life, but you treasured everything you had with Jaemin. The highs and lows taught you things and gave you an experience that you’d never forget.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Betrothed - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 3: Blood

Summary: While treating Illumi’s wounds, you learn something about his past.

Warnings: Well...blood. Mentions of past abuse. Choking.

Words: ~1800

Story Masterlist

“You could at least try to relax when you’re at home, Lumi.”

As usual, every muscle on Illumi’s body was tensed as he shifted around on the small wooden chair, his upper half completely bare.

Running your hands over his delicate skin, you couldn’t help but humming happily while opening the first-aid-kit.

Lumi.

That nickname wasn’t really creative, you had to admit. Yet there were still many thoughts connected to it.

How it sounded a lot like ‘Luna’, for example - the latin word for ‘moon’. Illumi pretty much had a moon face anyway.

A wet and warm feeling on your fingertips got you down to earth again - it was your husbands blood, steadily running down his whole back. Quickly, you got a gauze pad to absorb it and started working.

Had it come to you fancying him that much that you already lost yourself in daydreams?

The deep cut on his shoulder would most likely leave a scar, no matter how well you’d treat it. Yet what bothered you more was the fact that he had acutally tried to hold the gap together with his way too big needles.

“Sorry...” you whispered as you tugged them out of his flesh, but he wouldn’t even flinch.

He insisted it was fine, and you knew that he was used to the pain. But he could still feel it, even if his face remained as cold and calm as always.

God knows what’s going on in his head...your husband was very hard to read, actually.

But you knew he wasn’t just a puppet for his family. Illumi had some thoughts of his own, and you burned to get through to him.

The flesh wound was still bleeding, and since it hadn’t been properly closed in hours, you needed to clean it first. “I’m so sorry” you repeated, pouring some disinfectant into the cut.

“Stop apologizing.” The way he emphasized the words made him almost sound irritated.

“B-But I-”

“You’re assisting me as I demanded, so there’s no rational reason for you to say something like that.” It were moments like this that made you think Illumi actually tried to calm you down - the best he knew how. Through choosing his words wisely.

After the bleeding stopped, you began stitching up the wound while your husband was still sitting as if frozen in place.

“I-I just don’t want you to feel more pain than necessary...” He was used to way worse. You were well aware of that fact, and yet-

“Y/N.” Hearing your name escaping his lips, you immediately got attentive. “Is that the reason you’re holding back while sparring with me?”

For a long while, the room fell completely silent.

Because both of you knew he was right.

“I see.” Before you could even think of an answer, Illumi jumped up from his chair, running his hand over your handiwork. “Thanks for the bandage.”

Oh god, he was preparing to leave again. Maybe forever this time.

Soon, he’ll tell his parents you were unfit for an assassin’s spouse - too soft and weak.

Death was a bearable punishment for your shortcomings, but simply being thrown out like a toy one has grown tired of?

How pathetic, being afraid of conseqences you now only imagined. Knowing very well that empathy was considered futile in this environment.

And yet you were shocked it came that way, only because of you speaking your mind.

“Illumi, wai-”

He cut you off right there, turning around with his hand reaching for your neck.

Illumi’s aura had always been intense, laced with a bloodlust that seemed like it was imprinted on him at his very birth.

You’ll never get used to seeing him like this.

“Are you scared?” he asked just before his fingers wrapped around your throat, repeating the question at your lack of reaction. “Are you afraid of me?”

Slowly but increasingly, the pressure on your neck began to become discomforting, making you wince a little.

Yet your look wouldn’t falter, rather decided taking on a staring contest with him.

“I’m afraid of you leaving me.”

Just like that, he retracted his hand.

The look in your eye gave it away. Every word, every syllable you spoke was true. 

Even Illumi could tell just how much genuine affection they held - and he wasn’t immune to it either.

You cleared your throat and he only now realized just how much force he had used on you. Yet instead of apologizing as would be appropriate, he decided on continuing his interrogation.

“Why?” Illumi croaked, sounding a little bit broken. Hewasn’t able to speak any more, still baffled at your statement.

To ever think you could caught him off guard with such a simple sentence - but even through his poker face, you could feel his mind racing.

You sighed quietly, nervously tapping with your foot. “Do I really need to repeat that? It’s embarassing...”

No answer. Instead he stared you down even more intense.

“I like you, Lumi. This is my home, and I feel happy when I’m with you. Simple as that.”

Finally, he gave in to his exhaustion and took a seat on the sofa, with you following him closely after.

No matter what might follow, right now he needed some time. That much was obviously. So you just try to share your calming aura in silence.

You knew that puzzled expression way too well.

He’d put it on whenever something went past his comprehension, like when you once asked him about thinks he enjoyed or his dreams for the future.

“You look so sad...” you had once commented at an old photo of his. If you had to guess, he was about 4 years old at the time it was taken.

“Dunno” he tried to avoid further conversation back then, “Can’t remember.”

Just how often did you want to tell him that it was wrong? That his parents - no, his whole family - was full of sociopaths, and that they had stained his innocence through their wrongdoings and overeagerness?

And yet you had always kept quiet in the end.

Because you knew what it meant to him. The last bit of his sanity would probably break down if he knew all of the pain he had endured was wrong and abnormal.

Yes, their bonds were sure strange ones: They manipulated and harmed each other, all for the sake of the greater goal and the continuation of their bloodline.

That was probably how criminals beyond redemption desperately try to cling to their last bit of humanity - through the only people they can trust and be close to: Other murderers.

But at least you wanted to make him learn how to feele truly loved: For what he really was, and not only his obedience or achievements.

Right now, however, his elbows were resting on his knees, he was bent over and holding his chin with his hands. That position made it even harder for you to read him.

“I trust you with my life” you said without the slightest hint of hesitation in your voice. “It belongs to you ever since the day we married.”

Illumi cocked his head upwards, empty orbs staring holes into you. 

“They think I’m a monster.”

Huh?

Usually, Illumi isn’t really a man of many words. That fact should change tonight.

“I heared them talk” he began explaining as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “About regretting training me so harshly. I was their first child, more like an experiment at how to raise an even more powerful assassin.”

You nodded in silence, trying to signalize him that you were listening - and that you cared.

So he kept on. “I’m the reason my brothers were allowed more freedom. Having the right to feel and think on their own. And now Killua has left us. If I hadn’t been a failure, they would’ve trained him stricter.”

He blamed himself, thinking he was responsible for being a failed experiment.

Dear god.

“Mother said she’s afraid of me. I was 10. Everyone else at the family at least bear certain, acceptable emotions. She said I’m dead on the inside and it freaked her out.”

Every single word of him shot needles into your heart, tears already filling the rim of your eyes. You grabbed the fabric tight, trying to hold yourself together for your sake. 

“Illumi...”

You knew from the very second that many things were haunting that poor man’s conscience - but what he had just confided was just hard to bear.

In an attempt to comfort him, you instinctively shuffled closer until there was no gap between the two of you. It was an awkward closeness, but soothing nonetheless.

“It’s okay” he spoke in a tone that was unfamiliar soft for his standarts. “I understand how you all feel. I may not be able to emphasize with any feelings, but I can intelectually comprehend them.”

“Now cut it out!” This time it was you disrupting him, through a soft poke on his already injured shoulder.

"That’s bullshit and you know it. No person is absent of all emotions. You just shoved them into the back of your head and tried to surpress them. With your kind of childhood that was probably the only way to survive without completely losing it.”

His eyes shifted between your face and the place where your shoulders would touch, soaking every word like a dry sponge.

“And you do care about your family, right?” Well, how couldn’t he? It was the only way of mimicking normalcy he could pretend to have. “You’d do anything to keep them safe.”

“I just don’t get it” he murmured as you softly caressed his hand. “My allies are usually also mass murderers and psychopaths. But you are almost perfectly normal.”

Normal? You were an assassin too, goddamn it!

“Most would describe you as a very kind and sympathetic person. You should despise or at least fear me. They all do.”

“Not everything has to be logical, Lumi. I don’t think it makes sense either, but I also doubt that you’re a bad person. You’re much more of a victim.”

“Is that so...” That question sounded more like he was highly doubting it.

Just now you were realizing how slumped he was leaning back on the couch. That whole conversation had probably drained his energy reserves more than any mission ever could.

“Rest now, dear.” Carefully, without alerting him, you wrapped your arm around Illumi’s head and gently led him to your lap. “We can talk later.”

Much to your surprise, your husband would slowly close his eyes, swiftly drifting into sleep at hearing the steady beating of your heart.

“I’m sorry for frightening you, Y/N” he whispered those last words barely audible, fingers squeezing the flesh of your thigh ever so slightly.

“You didn’t. You never do.”

___

If you want to get on the taglist or get removed from feel free to ask! ♡

@roseburry-jam @food-cures-all @oprah-winfriess @ullinic @sun-and-moon-elfingsmeme @chocolateislovr @sapphic-ghoul @coco724 @jessiejunebug @yukiwins @weflyinfluff @readlatersnowy @gibk @spasmodicterror @djgirl66 @pweeenis @trblsicheng @theromaniangirl @cluelessmxnd @s1sterofthemoon @spasmodicterror @note-reblog @tamxixxx @orophaea @frankenduffy @cinnamon-beans @8-ash @cherryyongs @destructive-memories @patheticgay69 @sappyisyourpappy @sadferalgremlin @selca11​ @itsfakearies​ @djgirl66​ @rizawantspizza​ @g-creevan913​ @oprah-winfriess​ @actressania​ @rolo-at-midnight​ @slutforpapawise​

Feedback is always appreciated!

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 1: Please Don’t Go, Girl •

- 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗘 𝟭𝟵𝟴𝟵 -

     The final bell at Derry High School rang, doors flung open and a mix of disorderly students had spilled out into the halls like sheep. Books were being hurled into the trash, lockers emptied out, papers were strewn all over - summer had officially commenced. Swept up among the madness is Bill Denbrough, Richie Tozier, Stan Uris, and Eddie Kaspbrak.

     Eddie was abnormally small for his age, his inhaler holstered in his medicine-filled fanny pack to his left, Stan. A tall boy with curly blonde hair and wore a kippah, next to him was Bill, a young gangly boy with a stutter. And Richie Tozier, who wore glasses and was notorious for being a trash mouth. He was Eddie's best friend.

     In that same moment, one floor down, Y/n L/n flooded into the hallway with her classmates, exhaling in relief. She scanned the hallways and glazed over the many figures of the crowd hoping to catch sight of a familiar head of fiery red hair that belonged to her best friend. Beverly had excused herself near the end of class for a smoke in the girl’s bathroom, naturally, that was where she was headed to find her friend.

     Y/n weaved her way through the hallway stuffed with people, walking on her toes hoping to get a better look above the mass of heads. She passed through the stairway, cringing at the sudden influx in volume caused by the echo from the rowdy students in the stairway. That's when she spotted Greta Bowie.

     Y/n cursed under her breath as she saw the 13-year-old bully heading for the top of the stairs. She got a bad feeling in her stomach and she immediately knew where Greta was headed.

     Beverly and Y/n were the bully's favorite victims, particularly Bev. And Y/n had an inkling Greta was looking for her Beverly too.

     Y/n sprinted up the steps after her, the swarm of students blocking her way. Up ahead, she saw Greta reach the landing of the second floor and she shoved herself past one of Richie Tozier's friends, who turned to glare at her.

     At that moment, two rambunctious boys who were racing down the stairs, and much too absorbed in their interaction hadn't seemed to realize they were obstructing her path. And blocking Greta out in the process.

     She huffed. "Do you mind- Hey!"

     Rather than stop, the two boys blew past her on either side, their shoulders crashing into hers as they sneered. Her heart leaped into her throat as she felt herself lose balance. She lost her footing and was sent tumbling backward down a few stairs and onto the landing, a few students slowing her fall. Luckily, she hadn't made it far up the stairs. Had she, and Y/n would have left the school in a wheelchair, or worse.

     "Fuck!"

     Laughter erupted around her and she lay there, the wind knocked out of her. The two boys never even acknowledged the damage they had caused and they were well on their way to the exit of the school. Figures.

     "Hey, are y-y-you, o-okay?" Y/n peered up and saw four boys hurrying down the steps towards her.

     One of the boys, Richie Tozier, she recognized. At Derry High School, it was almost impossible not to know about the trash mouth, but she also had a handful of classes with him. They had even been partnered up once at the beginning of the year.

     Y/n had a hard time figuring out what he actually sounded like that day, he kept switching between so many different accents.

     "I'm fine," She sat up abruptly, wincing and hissed in pain, clutching her elbow.

     "You sure?" Asked the curly-haired boy, who was peeking his slightly over his friends. "That was some fall you took."

     "You know toots, when people come barreling towards me, I usually get out of the way, but you know, that's just me." Said Richie, readjusting his glasses.

     Y/n rolled her eyes, huffing. "Ever learn how to shut up, Tozier?"

     "Nah, still trying to crack that one."

     Eddie, who had been unusually quiet, hesitantly brought his hand out to her to help her up. She took it gratefully, forcing a smile, still wincing from her fall. And Y/n muttered a thanks.

     The poor hypochondriac boy realized what he had done and quickly reached into his fanny pack, grabbing his pocket-sized hand sanitizer. He squeezed a small amount into his palm and quickly rubbed it into his hands frantically, though a small blush resided on his cheeks.

     Y/n would have taken slight offense to the kid's actions but she was far too distracted by the fact that Greta had gotten away.

     She was probably terrorizing Beverly right now, Y/n thought.

     "Are you sure you're okay? That looked like a really bad fall." Stan asked.

     Y/n forced another smile as she rotated her ankle wincing. "Yeah, I'm fine thanks. Look I rea-"

     Eddie, whose voice finally caught up with his brain, began speaking rapidly, cutting her off unintentionally.

     "You should take extra precaution with your ankle for a while. Did you know over one million stair related injuries occur every year, and people who have them, statistically speaking are more likely to experience another incident due to injury from the first fall?"

     Y/n blinked a few times, still trying to catch up with his words. Richie and Stan smirked at one another and Bill looked between his friend and the baffled girl before him. Bill remembered how it was hearing Eddie speak for the first time. It took him a couple of weeks before he could hold a conversation with him without asking him to repeat himself.

     "Uh, yeah, I think I heard that somewhere, thanks. I'll keep an eye on it. Uh, listen, thanks for the concern, and the help, but I really gotta go," Y/n said quickly, not as fast, but close to, Eddie's speed.

     The unexpected response triggered a few raised eyebrows among the three boys, and a small smile formed on Eddie's face.

     Y/n nodded and gestured to the top of the stairs behind them.

     "Excuse me," She said, pushing her way through between Eddie and Stan.

     Eddie and the rest of the boys turned and watched as she squeezed through the flood of students like a fish swimming upstream. Eventually, they saw her [b/t] figure disappear into the crowd at the top of the stairs.

     Without his eyes leaving the spot through which she disappeared, Eddie spoke up.

     "Hey, Richie, who was that?"

     Richie looked between his best friend and the stairs.

     "Y/n L/n. Why? You want to get in her pants?" He chuckled.

     Eddie's face scrunched up and he shook his head feverishly, though it didn't stop Richie from noticing the pinkish hue creeping up on Eddie's cheeks and Richie suddenly regretted his joke.

     "Aw, nothing to be ashamed of Eds. We're happy you're finally going after a woman that's not your mother!" Richie said, plastering on a smirk.

     Eddie then launched into a lecture about the nickname and the four boys continued downstairs.

     Meanwhile, at just past the top of the stairs Y/n approached the bathroom just as Greta and her posse were leaving. They were snickering and Greta met Y/n's eye and burst into laughter, her friends following suit.

     "Oh, crap." Y/n took off into the bathroom.

     "Beverly?"

     Y/n didn't need to hear a response to figure out where her friend was. She winced when she saw the water pooling out from the far right stall. Mixed into it were various pieces of garbage that were floating amongst it.

     "Beverly? It's me, come on open up," Y/n knocked softly on the stall, and she took a step back when it swung open.

     There Beverly stood, her legs and the end of her dress soaked and dripping. Beverly looked at her best friend, a deadpan look on her face. She held her drenched backpack out away from herself, it swung slightly where the handle was hooked around her finger. There were wet napkins and paper towels that still clung to her backpack.

     "Shit, I'm sorry. I tried going after her, but I... guess I fell short." Y/n chuckled weakly at her own joke, but quickly shook her head. "Never mind. Here, let's get you dried off."

×××

     "Best feeling in the world,"

     Stan emptied the contents of his backpack into the trashcan in the courtyard, his friends did the same.

     Richie turned to his friend, putting his backpack back on.

     "Yeah? Try tickling your pickle for the first time."

     Eddie, who was used to ignoring the cheeky quips from Richie, turned to the others.

     "Hey, what do you guys want to do tomorrow?"

     Richie looked to Eddie, answering as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

     "I start my training."

     "Wait, what training?"

     "Street Fighter."

     "Is that how you wanna spend your summer? Inside of an arcade?"

     Without missing a beat, Richie replied and shrugged.

     "Beats spending it inside your mother," he turned to Stan, waiting for a high five.

     Without a thought, Stan forced Richie's arm down, and the conversation continued.

     "What if we go to the quarry?" He asked.

     Bill leaned slightly on the trashcans as he replied.

     "Guys, we have the b-b-ba-barrens,"

     An awkward silence fell over them and Stan nodded in understanding. "Right."

     At that moment, Eddie caught sight of a woman standing on the sidewalk, her eyes puffy from crying. They were accompanied by bags under them, and she waited with the police. She scanned the entryway, hoping to find a familiar face.

     Eddie nodded. "Betty Ribosome's mom,"

     The boys all turned to follow his eye.

     "Is she really expecting to see her come out of that school?" Stan asked sadly.

     "I don't know," Eddie muttered. "As if Betty Ripsome's been hiding in Home Ec. for the last few weeks."

     "You think they'll actually find her?"

     Richie answered immediately, with a slight scoff.

     "Sure. In a ditch. All decomposed, covered in worms and maggots, smelling like Eddie's mom's underwear."

     Eddie cringed and began sputtering. "Shut up! That's fricking disgusting."

     "S-she’s not dead." Bill urged. "S-sh-she's just m-missing."

     Richie adjusted his glasses nervously, and he felt a twinge of guilt knowing he hit a sore subject with his friend. Bill was still insistent that his own younger brother was still missing. After his little brother's disappearance months ago, still hoping he was out there somewhere.

     "Sorry, Bill. She's missing."

     Another silence fell over the four friends. They began walking away towards their bikes.

     "You know, the Barrens aren't that bad," Richie began. "Who doesn't love splashing around in shitty water?"

     Richie was stopped in his tracks, a hand had reached out and grabbed his backpack, and before he knew it he was thrown into Stan and the two boys fell in the grass.

     Patrick Hockstetter kneeled over Stan. He wore a wicked grin and was waving his kippah in his face. "Nice frisbee, flamer."

     Stan reached desperately for it, but Patrick kept it well out of his reach. "Give it back!"

     He rose to his feet and tossed the kippah straight into an open window of a passing school bus. "Fucking losers!"

     Eddie was too distracted to notice Belch Huggins creep up behind him. He burped into his face, causing him to gag profusely and Belch gave him a shove.

     Henry Bowers, the leader of the little gang and the one who knocked over Stan and Richie, stormed passed the boys. Bill went red in the face with anger and he shouted after them.

     "Y-y-you, s-s-s-suck, Bowers!"

"Shut up, Bill!" Richie warned.

     But it was too late, Henry and his friends stopped in their tracks, turning around to face the stuttering boy.

     "You suh-suh-suh-say something, buh-buh-buh-Billy?" He asked, feigning a stutter.

     He stalked towards him, towering over him menacingly.

     "You got a free ride this year 'cause of your little brother. Ride's over, Denbrough."

     Henry caught the noise of indistinct radio chatter and he looked past Bill, at his father, the chief of police. The scruffy man took off his glasses and glared at his son. Henry tried to shake it off but he backed up slightly.

     "This summer's gonna be a hurt train, for you and your faggot friends."

     Henry licked his palm and wiped it across Bill's face. Patrick snickered and three bullies retreated the car, where their other friend Victor Criss was waiting.

     Stan and Richie joined Bill and Eddie's side, glaring after the Bowers Gang.

     "I wish he'd go missing," Richie muttered.

     Eddie nodded. "He's probably the one doing it."

×××

     Ben Hanscom grabs the handles of his bike with one hand and carefully moves it out of the rack. He was balancing a diorama of the Derry Standpipe in his other hand. He looked around the courtyard briefly, seeing the noiseless chatter of students around him as his music blasts in his ears. Completely unaware he and his bike were blocking the stairs.

     A now somewhat dry Beverly Marsh stood on the stairs waiting to pass. Y/n, who had helped her dry off in the bathroom, had promptly realized she never had the chance to clean out her locker. The duo decided to meet each other at their shared apartment complex. To kick off the summer break, Beverly was going to stay at Y/n's apartment for the night, and get a much-deserved break from her father.

     Beverly prickled at the small obstacle. She was impatient from the day's events and to get home and grab a change of clothes before her father got home from work. Eager to disappear to Y/n's next door. But the boy blocking the stairs didn't seem to know he was even doing it.

      "You gonna let me go by?" Beverly asked, bringing him out of his stupor. "Or is there a secret password or something?"

     Ben turned suddenly, and when he saw who it was before him, his stomach did flips and his heart was aflutter. He harbored a crush for the girl, ever since he first laid eyes on her in class. She never failed to make him blush, just with a simple look.

     "Oh," he turned his head down to the ground quickly to hide his scarlet face. "Um, sorry,"

     "Sorry's not," She trailed off when the diorama he had been holding fell to the ground, and he scrambled to pick it up. "password."

     Just as he had picked up his diorama, his bike fell to the ground. She felt a wave of guilt for being snarky, he was clearly sorry and at this point she knew, he had enough on his plate. Someone they both had to worry about. Henry Bowers.

     "Henry and his goons are over by the west entrance, so you should be fine," she eased, and Ben looked at her taken aback.

     "Oh, I wasn't--"

     "Everyone knows he's looking for you," she nodded.

     Ben sighed and shied away. She smiled and took a few steps forward, grabbing the headphones off his head.

     "What you listening to?"

     Ben was in shock, but he stood still waiting for the inevitable teasing she would bring. But instead she smiled brightly, making his heart pound faster and he could feel his face grow hotter.

     "New Kids on The Block," She took the headphones back off.

     "I don't even like them. I was just--"

     "Wait. You're the new kid, right? Now I get it."

     His heart sunk.

     "There's nothing to get."

     "I'm just messing with you," she assured.

     She placed the headphones on top of his head, and he promptly grabbed them, wrapping them around his head as best he could with one hand.

     "I'm Beverly Marsh"

     "Yeah. I know that 'cause we're in the same class. Social Studies. And you were..." he trailed off, and shook his head slightly. "I'm Ben. But pretty much everybody just calls me..."

     "The new kid," Beverly finished, nodded in understanding. "Well, Ben, there are worse things to be called. Let me sign this."

     She stepped forward, grabbing the yearbook she had spotted sticking out of his backpack. Bev eagerly opened it up to the front and her face fell seeing nothing but blank pages save for the word typed in black ink, 'Autographs'. Grabbing the pen from her belt, she bit the cap and held it between her teeth as she signed her name, unknowingly being watched in admiration by Ben. His eyes just poking up from the book.

     She recapped the pen and handed the yearbook back to Ben. "Stay cool, Ben from sosh class."

     "Uh, yeah," He turned to watch her leave, smiling brightly after her. "You too, Beverly."

     As he watched her walk away, she called without turning her head, acknowledging his response. "Hang tough, new kid on the block."

     Ben smirked at her clever reference to the boy bands' song, and a big stupid grin formed on his face. He chuckled, shaking his head softly, not believing his luck and her kindness.

     He called back out to her, moments too late. "Please Don't Go, Girl. That's the name of another New Kids on the Block song,"

     His words trailed off, knowing he had been too late. Hopefully, she hadn't heard it, he thought. And it seemed she hadn't. He shook his head, ashamed but relieved she hadn't heard it. Nevertheless, he had a new firm hand on his bike and diorama, determined not to drop them again and he walked his bike to the entrance, his headphones trailing behind him and his heart still aflutter.

     Who cares that no one else signed my yearbook, he thought. When the only person he actually wanted to, did.

+++

@seasidecrowbar @bevxmarsh @supernovavision @readyforitbitch @classiprincess @edsloveshisrichie @sivords @ravenclawsprincess @pigwidgexn @kricketwritesstories @sweetpeasserpentprincess23 @plum-duels @edmunds-torch @eddiegaykaspbrak @rosi3e @welcome-to-derry @beepbeep-pennywise @candycorntroll @bibliophilesquared @ongaku-ato-kakikomi @cocastyle @peachysinnermon @mochibarnes @captainshazamerica

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[justauthoring]

Left All Alone (4/?)

Prompt: Could you please do a Justin Foley imagine where his sister got kicked out after he left so she’s been staying with Bryce because she doesn’t know about the tapes and he’s always been there for her and Justin and in the school fight scene, Bryce makes a comment about her which causes Justin to lose it? X

A/N: In the beginning: italics mean text messages.

bold means hannah’s tapes.

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Word Count: 1,654

one - two - three - four

Y/N, it’s Justin.

When I tried to climb out of the hot-tub --

Please. Y/N.

You grabbed my arm --

Listen, I know you don’t want to talk to me. But this is important.

You traced your fingers down my bra strap --

I’m calling you.

And over my bra.

Answer it.

I've told you about two of the worst decisions I ever made, and the damage left behind... and the people who got hurt.

"Jessica...”

Watching your phone-screen light up, you simply stare down at it; shoulders down, lips left parted, eyes distant. The caller ID clearly reads Justin, but you make no move to answer.

You don’t want to answer.

He just let him do that to her...

But he didn’t want him to. 

Doesn’t matter.

“Jesus,” you mumble, a moment of silence as Justins is sent to voicemail. “I’m going crazy.” 

You thought listening to all the tapes, every single one, would lead you to some sort of conclusion. A route to the answers. But it only left you more confused, more baffled -- and if anything, left you more heartbroken. A part of you had always known, but those tapes just confirmed it; you were living with a rapist. A man who not only raped one girl, but two, and maybe, most likely, more. One of the girls killed herself --

“Oh God,” feeling your eyes water, you place a hand against your lips, trying to stifle the cry that threatens to break through. It was early, just a little bit before Bryce normally gets up for school. You’ve been up all night. Even after you’d finished listening to the tapes, you hadn’t been able to sleep. You just stared blankly up at your ceiling.

You were even waiting for Bryce to come bursting through your door. He must know, you’d think, he has to know. He knows I listened to the tapes. He’ll be mad; he’ll be more than mad, He’ll -- But he never did. And you were left to your own thoughts, to the truth; the truth you’d once been desperate to know and now, you wished you’d never learned. Being oblivious was both a cursing and a gift.

But I always knew. No. You just didn’t want to admit it.

Hell, he does it to you.

“But Justin...” You whisper the words, the image of Jessica popping into your mind. “I didn’t know about Justin.”

Your phone lights up again, it ringing softly against your night-table. You glance down at it, stare at it for a moment or two and then, without even truly thinking (your hand seems to just move on its own), you reach forward, answering the call and press it against your ear.

“Y/N--”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” They’re the first words that leave your lips. They almost do so without thought.

“Y/N, I... I know you don’t. But please, I need you to hear this.” Justin’s voice comes out rushed, as if he’s trying to push every word in before you hang up on him. He tries to explain himself, desperate for you to hear him out.

“You just left me here.”

“Y/N, I--” There’s a pause, neither of you says anything, then, “what?”

“Last night. With Clay, you just...” Another pause; the silence is deafening. Suddenly, your eyes are watering. You’re not sure why but they just are. “You just left. Again.”

You hear Justin inhale sharply, “I didn’t want to. But Bryce would never let you leave--”

“You had a gun.”

“I wasn’t about to shoot him.”

“Clay was.”

“This has nothing to do with Clay.”

“How can it not?” You scoff, wiping angrily at your tears -- even if Justin can’t see them, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that still, even after everything, he still means the world to you. “He’s your new family after all.”

“What? Y/N, I... You’re my family, Clay is just... helping me out.”

You scoff, but don’t say anything.

“This isn’t why I called,” of course it isn’t, “Y/N, I need you to come to the trial meeting today.”

At that, you laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Bryce doesn’t let me go to the trials,” you say simply, lowering your voice just a tad bit -- Bryce should be awake now. “There’s no way i’d be able to. Plus, I already know everything.”

“You clearly don’t if you’re still living with Bryce.” You don’t say anything, Justin realizes his mistake instantly. “I mean, you--you haven’t heard the tapes.” 

“I have.”

“What?”

“I’ve heard the tapes.” You repeat, voice cold, calm; a lot more calm then you.

“Then you...”

“I know everything Justin.” Another minute of silence. “I have to go,” you scoff, “Bryce’ll be up soon--”

“Just, wait, Y/N. Please,” Justin rushes in, voice pitching with panic. “Please, come to the trial.”

“I already told you--”

“Ask Scott,” he suddenly interjects, causing your brows to furrow. “Scott Reed. He’s a... friend of Bryce’s, yeah?” You hum, “you know him?” You hum again. “Just ask him to drive you. He’ll understand. And before you argue, Bryce will already be there because it’s his trial, he won’t know until you’re actually there. And I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You said that once before. I don’t believe you.

You don’t say anything, and then a moment later, you hear Bryce’s footsteps.

“I have to go,” you whisper, ducking away from the door. 

“Wait! Just, please, try to come.”

Glancing back at the door, you pause. You did nothing. Nothing while he... But he’s my brother.

“Y/N.”

“I’ll try.”

With haste, you hang up your phone, practically throwing it onto the night table as you push yourself up to your feet, moving towards your closet. Just as you begin searching through your clothes (regrettably, courtesy of the Walker family), you hear your door open.

“You’re not dressed, yet?” You hear Bryce’s voice flood into the room. You traced your fingers down my bra strap and over my bra. “Normally you’re dressed before me.”

Stifling your fear, you swallow thickly; “can’t decide what to wear.”

“Well, you look good anything,” you can hear the lust in his voice. You shudder. “So I say, fuck it. Just grab whatever.” Leaning back, you gather whatever little nerve you have and face Bryce. He blinks at the sight of you. “You look like shit.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you mumble.

Bryce takes a step towards you, and it takes everything in you not to visibly react. You square your shoulders, clenching your jaw as subtly as you can, trying to avoid eye contact as Bryce reaches out for your cheek, cupping it. You almost flinch, but you stop yourself. 

Bryce is oblivious; “should’ve came to me.” A lecherous smirk curls onto his lips; “I would’ve helped you fall asleep.” Maybe not fall asleep, he wants to add, but other things, sure.

And, in that moment, it felt like...it felt like I was already dead.

I thought maybe I could forget about what had happened.

But thanks to you, Bryce, I'd finally lived up to my reputation, and I knew there was no way I could ever live that down.

“Yeah,” you whisper, voice shaky, “i’m sure you would’ve.”

-

Pulling at the sleeves of your shirt, you nervously make your way over to Scott whose stood at his locker directly adjacent to you.

Am I really going to do this?

The moment you’re close enough, you part your lips, moving to speak.

Defy Bryce like this?

“Hey, um, Scott?” 

You already have.

Turning at the sound of your voice, Scott blinks down at you. “Hey, Y/N.”

By listening to those tapes.

“Hey,” you whisper out again, smiling again. You can’t help the shake of your voice, paranoid that Bryce was right around the corner; watching you. “Sorry to bother, I just... I wanted to ask you something?”

It’s too late now.

You don’t notice, too absorbed in your own mind, but Scott’s eyes considerably soften at the sight of you. He doesn’t miss the slight tremour to your voice or the way you shift on your feet, glancing over your shoulder every few seconds. He only has one thought; Bryce.

“Of course,” Scott says with ease, making sure to sound as gentle as possible.

This was it. No backing out now. “I was, um, was wondering if maybe you could drive me down to court for the trial? I assume you’re going, since you’re, uh, a friend of Bryce’s. And I know i’m not supposed to go, o-or that Bryce doesn’t want me to, but I also know Justin’s testifying so--”

“I don’t mind at all,” Scott gently interjects, smiling down at you.

Your eyes instantly calm; “yeah?”

He nods. “And i’m not a friend of Bryce’s, not anymore at least.”

Your brows furrow; “no?”

He shakes his head.

“Oh,” you mumble, letting out a soft, somewhat forced laugh. “I wondered why Justin told me to talk to you...” The comment is meant more for yourself, but you don’t miss the way Scott’s brows furrow somewhat in confusion, obviously having heard it. You brush it off. “I guess it’s a good thing,” you swallow thickly, “Bryce’ll be really mad when he sees me there.”

The comment is meant as a poor attempt at a joke. Scott only frowns.

“He doesn’t want you going that badly, huh?”

Biting your lip, you shake your head up at Scott. And that says it all.

Scott, still frowning, takes a step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. Letting his hand fall on your arm, he squeezes it softly, pulling your gaze intently on his own. “When we get there, stick by me, okay?” He whispers, lowering his voice so no one else can hear you. “I won’t let him touch you.”

You may not know Scott well. Only a little and just by sometimes hanging by Bryce’s side, but, for some reason, you trust him. You can’t explain it, you just do. You know, deep in your heart, without a doubt, he means it.

And you need someone to trust.

-

Part 5?

Tag List: @kaelyn-lobrutto24 - @minigranger - @nickigv - @celyndavies - @supernaturalonice - @spideyxtay - @tilesandtokens - @i-cant-think-of-a-cool-user-name - @heimdoodle - @jxhn-mxrphy - @anephemeralwoe - @we-are-the-weasleys - @viinchester - @letsbloodmagic - @queen1054 - @thats50nicbrooo - @g-note-on-a-piano  Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

[atiny-piratequeen]

Against the Tide: Second Voyage (Ch.2)

Pairing: Eventual Poly Ot8

Genre: Heavy Angst, Eventual Smut and Fluff mixed in

Rating: 18+

Tags: DemonPirate!Au, Supernatural, Eventual Poly Relationship, Violence, Blood, Elemental Powers, Past and Modern Day AU, Mythical Creatures, Character Death

Chapter Specific Tags: Semi-graphic Violence, Blood, and Character

Chapter WC: 8.8k

A/N: There could be tags added later, especially if there’s something I write that potentially triggers my readers. The last thing I want is for that to happen, so please don’t hesitate to give me feedback if there’s something I write here you’d like me to tag

Tag List: @coffeekpopandcookies​ @wonderlandsobsession​

AO3 Link

Taglist

← Last Voyage   Next Voyage →

=Age 7=

“I don’t like it.”

“I know, my love, but we have to, if our country is going to thrive and stay afloat.”

He stomped his foot, puffing his cheeks out as he looked at his mother. She sent him a gentle, yet patient smile, petting the top of his head. He crossed his arms, looking away defiantly. 

“I don’t want a new father. I only need mother. I don’t want a new family.” He huffed. The hand petting his head stilled and she leveled him with a calm look, her bright gray eyes staring into his narrowed ones. She didn’t say a word, and after a few moments, he lowered his eyes, uncomfortable. 

“You...you won’t love them any more than you love me, right?” He muttered hesitantly, biting his lip as he balled his hands up at his sides. She sent him another smile and shook her head, kissing the top of his forehead. 

“I’ll never love anyone as much as I love my little Prince, Seonghwa. Now come, we have to make preparations.” 

=Age 17=

“There he goes! The young prince!”

“He’s so handsome, he’ll grow into a fine man.”

“I hear he and his mother were enchanted by the gods, and that’s why the have such unusual hairs and eyes.”

“Isn’t he much too stern for a child? He’ll be old and gray in no time if he doesn’t enjoy life more.”

Seonghwa kept his head up as he and his horse trotted through the town. He’d heard the whispers for years, always the same thing. His looks, his demeanor, how he didn’t act his age. His people meant no harm by it, so he took no offence. 

Besides...compared to the other prince, someone had to be the mature one. 

Prince Zafer was the reason Seonghwa had ventured out of the castle in the first place. The boy, a mere year and a half older than Seonghwa, was his brother by marriage. You’d be hard pressed to find anyone who acknowledged him as the superior brother, however. 

Seonghwa excelled at his studies, learning a myriad of languages under both his mother’s gentle guidance, and the strict tutelage of the king’s instructors, and earning himself a seat in the room when the king and his tactitions went over the kingdom’s next moves. He kept up with his combat training, though the king always assured him that there was no need for such a thing, with a kingdom as powerful as theirs. The blonde prince had gotten in food graces with the people of his new kingdom, often stepping out of the castle for strolls amongst them as a sign of trust and good faith, coming out without any guards to protect him. 

His stepbrother, however, was his polar opposite. 

Zafer cared nothing for the diplomacy that came with being the older of the two princes. He often shoved his work onto some poor unfortunate soul in the kingdom while he slipped into town to try to court the girls easily swayed by his status. Aside from the fact of him being a prince, Zafer had little else to offer anyway. 

Unfortunately, the thought of being the kingdom’s princess was enough for many to ignore that small detail.

Seonghwa found Zafer where he usually did, sitting in a higher end tavern in town. Once the owner took one look at the teen prince’s unamused expression, he cleared his throat, nudging Zafer to catch his attention before the inevitable argument was to ensue, hoping they’d take it outside. 

The brunette waved him off, leaning closer to kiss the had of the fair girl across from him. 

“If you’d like, I’d love to take you into the castle, sometime.” He cooed, wiggling his brows at her. She blushed, giggling from behind her hand before she looked up, her eyes widening in wonder at the unhappy prince that had appeared at the foot of the table. 

“I find humor in the idea of you taking someone else into the castle for a leisurely stroll when you yourself can’t go two minutes without sneaking out and neglecting your duties, Prince Zafer.” Seonghwa’s voice was even and level, but the noticeable twitch in his thick brow was enough to betray his true feelings. Zafer rolled his eyes, sending Seonghwa a sharp, disapproving look before painting a fake smile on his face. 

“Ah, brother! How nice of you to join us? Would you like a drink?” He inquired, lifting up his glass. Seonghwa looked at his hand with a flat look before his frown deepened. 

“I would like to not have to interrupt my studies to always fetch you.” He grunted. 

“Then, by all means, don’t.” Zafer growled, dropping the act as soon as he put it up. Seonghwa shook his head, a humorless laugh leaving his lips. 

“As much as I would love to not have to deal with you, I’m the only one you can’t just order away. Now let’s go. The King requires your audience.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. Zafer laughed, kicking his feet up on the table as he leaned back in his chair, the wood from both creaking in disapproval from the sudden shift in weight. 

“I don’t think I will, brother. You can go in my steed, yes? Consider it an act of good will towards your beloved older brother.” He beamed. Seonghwa’s steel eyes narrowed, his jaw set as he took a moment to collect himself from the anger boiling inside of him. 

The maiden noticed the rising tension and stood, shying away when Zafer turned his baffled expression towards her. 

“Callista, wait-”

“A-ah, I’m sorry. You should go, Prince Zafer. I don’t wish to make Prince Seonghwa and the King feel any more burdened because of me.” She bowed her head, avoiding eye contact as she tried to dart past the two. She bumped into Seonghwa along the way, nearly tripping after her sandal broke. 

In a whirlwind of motion, he grabbed her hand, catching her before she collided with anything else. He pulled her upwards, letting her go once she had regained her balance. Callista looked up, her face igniting when she was met with the younger Prince’s features up close. He let her go and looked down, noticing her broken sandal. 

With a small hum, he looked towards one of the castle guards Zafer had escort him out, grabbing his attention with a curt wave. 

“Yes, Prince Seonghwa?”

“Please escort this woman to her home. Make sure she gets there safe and then join us in the castle, if you would.” he instructed. The guard nodded, taking the starstruck girl by her wrist, escorting her out of the tavern.

Zafer watched her go with his jaw dropped before he leered at Seonghwa. 

“What the hell are you-”

“Castle. Now. The King requests your audience. You would think you’d be the first to understand that something of that caliber leaves no room for arguments.” Seonghwa cut him off sharply, pivoting on his heel to exit the tavern, satisfied when he heard the older prince curse under his breath, following behind him with the remaining two guards he had taken out with him following in tow. 

They all hopped on their respective horses, with Seonghwa taking off first in a blur of gray. His horse was a strong, gray Caspain female he had named Mars. The King had gifted Seonghwa the mare as a pony when he and his mother combined their kingdoms as a show of good faith. 

There was a flurry of hoofsteps from behind him, but Seonghwa didn’t startle as Zafer and his stallion, Jupiter, caught up to Mars and himself. 

“Must you always be such a killjoy, brother? Maybe if you spent less time in that stuffy library and lived a little more-”

“I’m enjoying my life just fine, Prince Zafer. I get my work done and I still have more than enough time to do the things I enjoy. You, however, I suppose I understand why you dodge your responsibilities. I’m sure if you sat down and actually did all the work you’ve left backed up for everyone else to deal with, you would never see the light of day.” Seonghwa responded without missing a beat. Zafer’s brow twitched and he frowned. 

“Hey...would it kill you to send your big brother a little kindness from now and then?”

Seonghwa’s response was a gentle kick to Mars’ sides, his head straight forward as she stormed ahead of Zafer and Jupiter, leaving them in the dust. 

=Age 19=

Seonghwa closed his eyes, smiling softly as delicate fingers placed a crown of flowers atop his head. When he opened his eyes, he smiled up at his mother, enjoying the way the corner of her eyes crinkled in mirth. 

“The crown suits you well, Prince Seonghwa.”

“You do know best, Queen Daliah.” 

She chuckled lightly and shuffled closer to him, placing her back against the tree trunk he was leaning against, looking up at the clouds rolling in the sky. 

“You could have the real crown soon, you know. I doubt your father would give the crown to your brother after his repeated misadventures. You honestly are much more fit for the job.” She mused before she blinked in surprise at her own negative words towards her step son, gently smacking her mouth. 

“Ah, this mouth of mine-”

“You haven’t said anything I do not agree to, mother. The King has tried for years to get Prince Zafer to stop neglecting his duties. Hell, I have tried to get him to take his position more seriously. He’ll throw a tantrum for sure if I become king over him, but it is something he’ll get over.” He hummed, his steel eyes half lidded as he watched Mars sleep in the flora not too far from them. She was seated, her gray head settled in the flowers as she rested. 

“My son, will there ever come a time you see those two as more than just the King and the Prince?” Daliah inquired, turning her head to face him, tilting her head to the side. Seonghwa pursed his lips, feeling the wind sweep his bangs over his forehead. 

“It feels more natural this way, mother. You know how I am with terms of endearment.” He mused, avoiding eye contact. She smiled at him and put her head on his shoulder, a gentle laugh leaving her lips. 

“Ah, yes. Terms of endearment don’t come easily to you, do they, my sweet?”

Seonghwa only put his head atop of his mothers, nuzzling her once as they enjoyed the peaceful morning in the garden. 

=3 Months Later=

“This is ridiculous!”

“Calm down, Zafer-”

“No! I do not understand why you’re crowning him king over me!”

Seonghwa stood in the throne room with his hands behind his back, his jaw set and his eyes straight forward as Zafer threw a tantrum. The King sighed, shaking his head while Queen Daliah frowned deeply. 

“Son please-”

“Don’t interrupt me, the men are talking.” He snapped. Daliah’s brow pinched together in displeasure and there was the sound of something cutting through the air. 

Suddenly, Zafer had the curved blade of one of the family’s signature falcata swords pressed against his throat. He froze, snapping his eyes to the left to meet Seonghwa’s infuriated steel gaze. 

“You can run your mouth for hours about the ‘unfairness’ of the King not giving you the crown, but raise your voice at my mother once more and I’ll cut you down before you can finish your sentence.” He snarled. Zafer sneered at him, backing off to rub his neck, frowning when he felt the spot of blood from Seonghwa’s sharp blade. 

“Pardon me, you can imagine I’m displeased with my younger, stepbrother getting the crown over me, a native to this kingdom.” He growled through gritted teeth. Seonghwa didn’t sheath his falcata, instead sharpening his gaze at the shorter prince. 

“Say what you will about my blood, but my talents far surpass your own when it comes to ruling this kingdom. If you were to become the king of this kingdom, we’d fall. You have done nothing but slack off and eat off your silver platter all of your life, I would have no confidence with you as my ruler.” He spat, putting his sword back in its sheath with more force than necessary.

“Seonghwa, Zafer, please don’t fight. The princess is coming soon and-”

“If being the king means I have to marry that woman, you might as well make this one the king. I’ve visited her lands, I know the practices over there. Combining our kingdoms will only spawn chaos.  Our lands have opened fair trade with the neighboring countries and we’ve made a name for ourselves for being a safe haven for travellers. What do you think will happen if you bring in another land with the polar opposite way of conducting business?” He snapped, turning his furious gaze to the King. 

“Son, this is a good opportunity to distribute wealth-”

“You would look me in the eyes and lie like this?” 

The king pursed his lips and Seonghwa shook his head. 

“I wouldn’t do business with them under normal circumstances, now you’re asking us to combine our kingdoms and split rule with those brutish people? The streets would run red if you let them stick their hand into our affairs.” 

Zafer tutted from behind him, swaggering up to the front once more. 

“See, father? Seonghwa is much too afraid to see what a good opportunity this is. You should reconsider and make me king instead. I hear Princess Valentina is a real catch~” He cheered, seemingly in good spirits once more. Seonghwa scoffed, crossing his arms as he cast a glance at his step brother. 

“T'es rien qu'un petit connard.” He huffed flatly, looking away when Zafer sent him a look. 

“I don’t know what you just said, but it sounds like an insult.”

“If you studied more than how to chase maidens, you would know.”

Zafer opened his mouth to argue, but Seonghwa turned his back on the trio, shaking his head. 

“If you care at all about the future of this kingdom, you’ll call off the wedding. I refuse to marry that woman.” He told them sharply before he exited, the tails of his royal robes flapping from the motion as he left. 

The King and Queen exchanged looks with one another while Zafer watched him leave, a scowl on his face. 

=2 Days Later=

“Can you believe him? Born with a chip on his shoulder, that one. Turning down Princess Val for something as trivial as that? Is he mad? We’re royalty, if we lose a few commoners in the crossfire, does it matter?” Zafer grunted, on his third glass of whine as he sat across from some of his men and some men from Valentina’s kingdom. 

“The Princess is very disheartened by his behaviour. I doubt he’ll see our side in this matter, Prince Zafer. So what are we to do?” the largest man-a direct consultant of Valentina’s-inquired. The look on his scarred face was clearly implicating something nefarious, but it didn’t quite reach Zafer’s muddled brain. 

“I told father to just let me be King. It’s my birthright.” He huffed, slamming the glass down on the table. The guards frowned, exchanging a look with one another while Valentina’s men smiled darkly. The leader, the scarred man named Franco, tilted his chin upwards. 

“Then reclaim your birthright. We’d be more than excited to help. Consider it the beginning of our business partnership, yes?” He extended his hand. Zafer looked at his hand, furrowing his brow. 

“What are you implying?”

“You kill your brother. You’re not even related by blood, yes? Once he’s out of the way, we can make sure the crown is on your head, King Zafer.” He cooed, arching a brow and nodding at his hand. Zafer looked back at his hand before he smiled, reaching out. 

The guard beside him grabbed his shoulder, eyes wide.

“Your majesty, this is absurd. Prince Seonghwa is your brother.” he tried to reason with him, but Franco laughed, loud and booming.

“Oh? You take advice from lesser guards, too? Does the blonde prince do this, too? When will you ever step out of Seonghwa’s shadow?”

Zafer’s lip curled and he reached out aggressively, shaking Fraco’s hand. 

“There won’t be any shadow if he’s dead.” he grunted before he turned towards the guards. 

“You keep your mouths shut. If I find out either of you said a word, I’ll wipe your entire bloodline from this earth, mark my words.” He threatened. They cowered, noticing Valentina’s men shared the same threatening intensity in their eyes. 

From a table over, a man set down his glass of water, a hum leaving his throat. Across from him, another man put his cheek in his hand, a knowing look on his face as he observed his companion. 

“You have that look in your eyes, Captain.” 

“Go back to The Utopia alone, Daniel. I have business to tend to tonight.”

There was a light chuckle.

“Of course you do, Cap’n.”

=Later=

“Are you absolutely mad? Are you drunk? Who do you think you are waltzing up to the castle like this?!” 

Hongjoong sighed, running his hand through the back of his hair as he looked at the guards at the gate. They had scoffed at him when he requested conference with ‘whoever the prince is that isn’t a traitor’. 

“Ah, how bothersome. I just wanted to give your prince a warning. There’s a storm coming and I figured I’d warn him before something terrible happens.” He mused, talking to himself more than the guards. They leered at the pirate, reaching for their falcatas to forcibly make him leave when the sounds of hooves approached. 

The three of them looked behind Hongjoong, watching as a handsome blonde man approached on a beautiful gray horse.

“Woah, Mars.” 

The mare stopped in front of Hongjoong, snorting slightly before she sniffed at him, curious. Hongjoong blinked at her before reaching out, smiling when she nuzzled his hand. The man on top watched him with careful steel eyes. 

“Who are you?”

“Kim Hongjoong. Captain of The Utopia.”

“Your clothes...a pirate, I presume?” Seonghwa inquired, noticing all the affection Mars was giving the stranger. It was curious, since she often didn’t like contact with anyone other than himself and his mother, aside from a few stable hands. 

“You can say that, yes.” Hongjoong was honest, putting his hands behind his head as he looked up at Seonghwa. The guards drew their falcatas in an instant, pointed at his back. 

“You didn’t say that, you bastard! Are you suffering from some kind of madness? What business would a pirate have near the kingdom except to steal?!” 

“I told you, because I heard some drunk lad in the tavern in port talking about murdering a prince and becoming king.” He snapped, clearly unamused. Seonghwa’s brows went up for a moment before his face quickly masked the look when Hongjoong turned back to him. 

“Let him in. I’ll listen to his words. Come, pirate.” He gently pet Mars’ back and dismounted from her, nodding in the direction of the garden. 

“Prince Seonghwa-”

“Take Mars to her stables. If anything goes awry, I’m more than capable of handling myself.”

The guards sighed and nodded, taking the reins and leading  her off while Hongjoong followed Seonghwa to the garden. They stopped in front of a tree with beautiful white flowers that rustled with the leaves in the night breeze. Seonghwa inhaled and turned, looking down at Hongjoong, who seemed more interested in the beautiful flowers at his feet. 

“Speak. Why are you really here? I can not fathom any reason a pirate would make up such a tall tale unless you thought you could sway my family or I for some form of monetary gain.” 

Hongjoong lifted his gaze and rolled his eyes. Seonghwa bristled from the move, but waited for an answer. 

“I have no interest in lying. I do not have any interest in swindling, either, lad. I may be a pirate, and I could care less if you believe me, but I am different than whatever your connotation of what that title means. If I would steal from a royal family, I wouldn’t be so brazen to walk up to the gates like some kind of fool.” He grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. Seonghwa pursed his lips, watching him carefully. 

“So-”

“So, I was in the tavern, and this lad was talking-rather loudly-about how he couldn’t believe Prince Seonghwa-you, I presume-would turn down some marriage proposal. He was with some thuggish looking goons and they said something about a princess not being happy. The gist of it is, they want your head, mate. What you do with this information is your own business, but I know I’d lose sleep if I didn’t even give you a fair warning. Heavens know those guards won’t be telling you any time soon, not with the threat of ‘their entire bloodline’ being wiped out.” Hongjoong told him, stretching his arms. 

“That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. I guess watch your back around that one, mate. He seems to think more with pride than any rational thoughts in his mind.” 

Seonghwa reviewed him for a long moment before he closed his eyes, processing what he was told. 

When he opened them, he nodded behind Hongjoong. 

“Very well. If that is all, I’ll see you out, pirate.” 

“Much appreciated.” 

Hongjoong sent Seonghwa one glance over his shoulder before he started making his way down to the port, his hands behind his head. He hummed, thinking of ways he could expand his crew now when he heard a whistle from his left. 

Pausing, he looked in the direction of the sound, finding a woman shrouded in a cloak beckoning him over to a dark spot between two buildings. He looked around before pointing to himself. When she nodded, walked closer cautiously. 

“Do you need something, ma’am?” He inquired, tilting his head as he stopped a few feet away from her. She nodded, lowering her hood to look at him, her beautiful blonde hair secured in a fishtail braid that disappeared down into her cloak. One look at her, and Hongjoong had a feeling his night was going to get a lot more complicated. 

“I heard your claims from the guards regarding my sons. Can you please tell me yourself? I’d like to hear it from you, since you came to my castle, stranger.” She whispered. Hongjoong nodded, explaining once more what he heard in the tavern. 

When he was finished, she had tears in her eyes, but she shook her head, standing straighter as she looked up at him. 

“May I ask for a burdensome task?” She inquired, looking around to make sure no one was near or passing. Hongjoong nodded once, unable to deny a mother looking so close to being frantic. 

“Please...until your ship is to sail out of these ports and leave these waters, can you please protect my son? The prince-Seonghwa-is my first and only born child and I...I would sooner give my life than have Zafer harm him over this. Please...I don’t want to lose him. Until I can come up with a permanent solution, take this, and help my son.” She urged, pushing a velvet pouch into his hands. Hongjoong could tell from the weight of it, there was gold inside. 

“Wait, I don’t-”

“Please. I don’t have the strength to protect him, but you...you can. Please.” She pleaded, close to falling to her knees to beg. Hongjoong stopped her, squeezing her hands. 

“I...I’ll do my best, Ma’am.” 

She smiled at him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand before she took his hands in hers. 

“Thank you, stranger. Thank you. In the event that anything goes awry, horns will be sounded. I pray we won’t need them, but if we do, please make haste to the castle and take my son and I aboard, alright? I’d sooner flee this country than have my son lose his life from it’s kingdom’s betrayal.” 

Hongjoong nodded, his brow pinched up in worry. 

How the hell did he get himself in this situation?

=3 Days Later=

The sound of glass shattering abruptly woke Seonghwa up in the middle of the night. His eyes narrowed in the darkness as screams flooded the halls, followed by shouting and more crashing. 

He threw himself out of bed, grabbing his falcata in an instant, eyes narrowed. 

Could it be…?

His musing was interrupted by something banging on his door. His grip on his falcata tightened as he watched the door. 

“Seonghwa! Baby! Please, we must run!”

His heart thumped against his chest as he briskly crossed the room, throwing open the door to look at his mother. She huffed, holding her bloodied side as she looked up at him. His eyes widened.

“Mother-”

“We have to run. Zafer...he..he’s teamed up with Valentina’s men and they-” She trembled, a faraway look in her eyes as she recalled watching them slay her husband. Seonghwa noticed the extra blood on her gown and swallowed down the question at the tip of his tongue. 

“You, are you harmed, too?” He inquired. She nodded, looking down at the gash at her side before she shook her head and pulled him out of the room, rushing down the hallway. 

“It’s small, they sliced me when I made a move to escape. We have to escape...I...I asked for aid days ago in the event that this happened. The horns were sounded, we just have to make it to port.” She hastily told him. He frowned, opening his mouth to ask her what she meant when there was the sound of a blade dragging against the ground. They stopped, watching as one of Valentina’s men rounded the corner. He paused, tilting his head as he raised his blade, eyes narrowed. 

“Look what we found. You made this so much more messy than it needed to be, lady. All we wanted was the blonde, now the King is dead and we have to kill you, as well.” he sighed, shaking his head. Seonghwa drew his falcata, his lips curled into a snarl. 

“You can only try. I hope you have made your peace to whatever gods you pray to.” He barked, rushing down the hall. His mother jolted, watching both sides of the hall in worry as her son clashed with the man. 

The man’s fighting style was wild. He relied on broad, powerful swings that left him open to attack. Seonghwa blocked whatever came his way with his free hand, using his falcata to block the moves while he swung his long legs, kicking in the man’s knee. He barked in surprise and Seonghwa swung his hand back, unphased by the blood that came out as the man’s arm suddenly dropped, detached from his body. 

His eyes widened and he screamed. Seonghwa kicked him in the chest, eyes forward as he slammed the blade down, silencing the screams in an instant. 

His mother rushed up to him as he snatched the blade out, wiping his bloody face with shaky hands. He sent her an apologetic look at the sight before taking her hand again, rushing in the direction of the stairs. 

“There he is! Get him!”

Seonghwa gently pushed his mother aside, taking off once more to fight the next three men they encountered. She bit her lip, watching her son fight in a flurry of motion, rage on his bloodied face. Seonghwa plunged the curved sword into one man’s chest, snatching it out in an instant to turn and elbow another in the face. 

The third man charged him, pushing him all the way into the wall. They exchanged blows, punching one another until their lips were busted open. Queen Daliah rushed up to the men with a vase in her hand, smashing it over his head to disorient him while Seonghwa pushed him into the final man, making him accidentally stab him. 

The Queen pulled a dagger from her gown, stabbing the man in the neck as he struggled to pull his sword free. Seonghwa watched the men fall and looked at his mother, frowning at the hysteric look in her eyes as she struggled not to break down. 

“Mother...I’m sorry, let’s go.” He pulled the sword out of the dead man’s hands and turned to the end of the hall, gritting his teeth. He could feel his mother’s footsteps start to slow behind him as she struggled to keep up. She wasn’t used to running at all, especially not in intense conditions like these, and he imagined the rush of fighting for her life was beginning to tire her out. 

“Ah, where are we going?” 

They reached the stairway, stopping in their tracks when the large form of Valentina’s consultant sauntered into view. Franco tutted in disapproval, sending the dual wielding prince a look. 

“Oh? Is that for me? I hope you know how to use those.”

“Take another step towards my mother and I and you’ll find out.” He spat. Franco’s brows went up in faux surprise before he chuckled, taking a dramatic step forward. 

“Showtime, pretty boy.”

The two of them ran at each other, and Queen Daliah bit her lip, looking around for something she could use to help. Franco was larger than the other guards, and looked leagues more brutish than them, to boot. She was intimidated by the idea of getting anywhere near him.

As she looked around, she noticed a blur outside the window, her eyes lighting up when the familiar form of the pirate she asked to help, along with some other people, rushing into the courtyard. 

“They’re coming! They’re coming to help!” She turned, eyes widening when she saw Zafer approaching Seonghwa from behind as he busied himself with Franco. There was a falcata in his hand, as well, and from the runes etched into the blade, she could tell it was his father’s. 

“No!” She screamed, pulling her dagger out and rushing over to the fight, swinging at him. It drew the attention of all three men and Zafer stumbled, moving to stop her by grabbing her hand. 

“You murderer! I won’t let you take him!” She screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried to wrestle her hand free. Seonghwa turned to intervene, but Franco took the opportunity, slashing wildly at his face. 

The prince barked in pain, shuffling away. Zafer pushed the queen away, swinging haphazardly in an attempt to slice Seonghwa’s chest open. He missed, but the broad cut went through the blonde prince’s night shirt, gashing open his shoulder. 

Franco readied himself for another strike, lifting his blade and thrusting with all his might at Seonghwa. 

“SEONGHWA!”

The blonde was hit in the side by his mother’s body, all but pushing him down the stairs as she shoved him. He tumbled down the carpeted stairs, nearly dropping his falcata in the process. When he looked up, his eyes widened, horror etching itself on his face as he saw his mother at the top of the stairs, her arms holding onto Franco’s blade as she stared defiantly at him, blood running down the corner of her lips, the sword going though and through her body.

“No...no no, MOTHER NO!” he screamed. She shook her head, taking one of her blood stained hands to wave him off when he moved to get up and rush back up the stairs. 

“G-go...run...find the pirate. Stay with him...please…” She coughed and Franco clicked his tongue in annoyance, snatching the blade out in one fluid motion. She cried out, falling to her knees before she sent Seonghwa a look over her shoulder. 

“Run, mon bébé, live for me.” She told him, tears rolling down her cheeks before she collapsed. Seonghwa shook from his spot, looking up as Zafer approached the stairs, looking down at the lifeless body of his stepmother. He rolled his shoulder and stepped over her. 

“Kill him.” 

“Merde,” Seonghwa cursed, getting to his feet and rushing down the stairs as the two closed in on him. He tried to focus on navigating through the castle while losing copious amounts of blood. The prince made a hard left, cursing again when he noticed this was a dead end hallway.

“Son of a bitch-”

“Language unbecoming of a king. Ah, wait, nevermind.” Franco chuckled, lingering behind Zafer as the two closed in. Seonghwa ignored him in lieu of leering at Zafer. 

He huffed, blood smeared on his face as he shook his head, still backing away from the duo. There was a sizable slice in his cheek, steel eyes full of tears he refused to shed,his heart thundering in his chest.

“Why?” He spat, pressing his back against the wall, the blonde hairs at the back of his head matted to the back of his neck. He held his falcata up, despite the blood running between his fingers. He could feel his arm scream in protest from the action, but he ignored it.

There was a humorless chuckle across from him.

“It’s just business, Seonghwa. You understand, right?" Zafer inquired, holding up the late king’s royal falcata in defiance. 

Seonghwa’s lip curled up, pushing himself off of the wall as the sound of their footsteps closed in on him. 

“Oh, I understand just fine, brother.” He spat the word out like a curse. 

Zafer sneered at him, rushing forward, Franco moved to follow, but there was a tap at his shoulder, drawing his attention away. He turned, looking down to find a brunette stranger looking at him. 

“Who the hell-”

The man didn’t verbally say a word, pressing his palm to his chest with a spark of malice in his eyes. 

“That woman didn’t deserve what you did to her.” 

Seonghwa and Zafer exchanged blows as the end of the hall erupted into fire. The princes paused, eyes widened at the sudden fire trapping them in the hall. Seonghwa gritted his teeth, using the distraction to hit Zafer with the butt end of his sword. He reeled back, holding his nose as Seonghwa stabbed him in the thigh, bringing him to his knees. 

“All of this...all of this for what? For what?!” Seonghwa snarled. Zafer tried to swing the stolen falcata, but Seonghwa kicked him in the jaw, stepping on his chest as he looked down at him. 

“Because, Prince Seonghwa...this kingdom is my birthright. Not yours.” He hissed defiantly. 

“Then burn down with it, you would have done so as it’s king, anyway.” he spat, driving the falcata down right over Zafer’s heart. 

He stood there, his eyes closed with his hands on the hilt of his falcata, waiting for the lick of the flames to meet him in the center of the hall. He had no energy to run and any attempt to hurl himself out of the window to safety would probably kill him, anyway. 

He noticed the heat in the room drop, and opened his eyes, looking down the hall where the fire was to find the pirate from before, approaching him with his eyes downcast.

“I...I wasn’t fast enough. They stopped us through the town and at the gates and I...I’m sorry.” he muttered. Seonghwa looked at him without a word.

“Why are you here, pirate?” His voice was tired, and Hongjoong didn’t blame him with the ordeal he’d went through. 

“She...the Queen asked me to protect you. Bang up job, I did. I’m sorry. Here-” He reached into his pocket, passing the velvet pouch to Seonghwa. The prince looked at him, eyes narrowed. 

“My mother paid you-”

“I didn’t want to take the money, mate. In fact, I haven’t opened it since she handed it to me. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” He sighed. Seonghwa looked at the pouch in his hand, a dazzling shade of emerald. His mother’s favorite color. 

He opened it, finding gold pieces within it, but at the very top was a small, folded up piece of paper. He opened it, his shoulders dropping when he realized it was his mother’s handwriting. 

‘My sweet, if you’re reading this, you must have made it successfully to the man I hired to protect you. Regardless of what happens, you must flee this kingdom. If this message reaches you, know that Valentina and Zafer will start a war with us. Please, flee. I heard their plans though our guards on this night, and I fear for your life. Do not die for this country. Live for me, please, my sweet. 

I may not be with you, if you’re reading this. But I will always love you.’

Seonghwa clenched his fist, the paper nearly tearing as tears rolled down his cheeks. Hongjoong watched as he leaned down, picking up the royal falcata on the ground beside Zafer’s body. He stumbled, dizzy from blood loss as he turned towards Hongjoong. 

“I see this kingdom has nothing for me, pirate. My mother paid you to take me aboard your ship. If I don’t bleed out before we get to port, I’d like to leave this land and never look back.” He grunted. Hongjoong noticed the excessive amounts of blood smeared all over Seonghwa and the way he swayed with every step and nodded, putting one of the taller man’s arms over his shoulder as he lead the way. 

=Later=

“He’s bled a lot lot, Cap’n. I don’t think he’ll make it.” Mina frowned, looking up at Hongjoong as she observed Seonghwa on one of their tables. Seonghwa groaned as she tightened the bandages, cracking his eyes open. 

"I...appreciate the help. I am sorry for burdening you." He groaned. Hongjoong looked down at his form, overcome with guilt. 

He wasn't fast enough to save both Seonghwa and Queen Daliah, but he could save Seonghwa now.

"Mina, can you step out for me?" He inquired. She looked up at him before looking over at Daniel, who was in the doorway. Daniel nodded, knowing full well where this was going.

"Aye, aye, Cap'n." She nodded and stood, sending Seonghwa a look before she left the room. Hongjoong sat in her place, looking down at Seonghwa. 

"My biggest blunder in this world is not being able to save my mother from her illness." He started. Seonghwa's brows furrowed, looking up at him in confusion. Hongjoong ran a hand through his hair.

"My second is not being able to save your mother. I...can't take back the past, but I can save you." He told him. Seonghwa closed his eyes, letting his head thump against the table.

"Are pirates normally this hospitable to those close to death?"

"I can't speak for others."

Seonghwa's lips quirked. 

"You don't need to fill me with false hope, pirate. You have no obligations to me."

Hongjoong paused for a moment before he reached into his boot, pulling out a dagger. 

"I may not have one to you, but I do to your mother." He murmured, cutting open his thumb. Seonghwa opened his beautiful gray eyes again, brow furrowing when he felt the prick of Hongjoong's blade against hand.

"What are you-"

"Forgive me, but I'd never live with myself if I let another mother down in this world. And that's...a very long time to not live with myself." He mused, pressing his bloodied thumb to Seonghwa's.

At first, nothing happened, and Hongjoong felt his heart sink. Was Hyuna lying when she said he could give others immortality?

Before he could panic, Seonghwa let out a small gasp, his eyes glinting before he let out a groan, passing out. Hongjoong blinked in surprise, expecting an explosion of power like when he was turned. 

"Well that was fast." An unfamiliar voice startled him and he looked up, finding a blonde man leaning in the doorway. Hongjoong bristled, a swirl of water circling around him and Seonghwa as he leered at the man.

"Who-"

"Relax, relax. Hyuna sent me to check up on you. Kind of a hassle when you're on the move, but I made it." He leaned over, looking at Seonghwa in interest.

"Apparently not a minute too soon, eh?"

"Hyuna...sent you?"

"Aye. My name is Dawn. I'm the first one she's ever turned. Ah, unrelated, but we're lovers, as well." He beamed proudly. Hongjoong relaxed and Dawn entered the cabin. 

"You are wondering why he's not showing signs of what power you gave to him, yes?" Dawn inquired, satisfied when Hongjoong nodded at him. 

“The full moon is the key. When you’re turned, you get your powers fully when the moon is highest in the sky on a night of the full moon. Judging from the sky when I came in-” Dawn hummed, leaning against the frame. 

“It’ll be weeks before whatever power you shared with him actually take effect. For the time being, he’s just an immortal with power lying dormant inside of him. Which is good for you, since Hyuna left out some important things when she turned you.”

“Like what?” 

“When the moon is high and your powers are ready, your demonic self takes over, and any strong force of negativity will try to take hold. Your powers will go wild if you don’t learn to control them and control both the ‘current’ you and the ‘demonic’ you. I imagine this one is going to create a mess when the moon is full, with all the negativity in him.” Dawn pointed at Seonghwa before he rolled his shoulder. 

“I’ll give you something, one from Hyuna and one from myself.” he walked over, putting his hand on top of Hongjoong’s head. There was a small pulse of light before he hummed, observing him.

“What did you do?” Hongjoong inquired. 

“From now on, when you share your powers, a mark will appear on the person you shared with. It’ll help you figure out who has what power. Well, if you know what you’re looking for.” he mused, smiling at the flat look Hongjoong gave him. 

“Anyway, Hyuna gave me a message, too. If you’re ever in trouble, know she’ll be watching over you with a murder of crows.”

“Murder of crows?”

“Mm. Though they may not be actual birds.”

“God, can you demons be any more vague?”

“I mean...yes? Also, you’re a demon now too, so...”

Hongjoong leered at him and Dawn turned, hiding a laugh behind his hand. 

“Anyway, make sure you’re careful when you turn people. Don’t wanna get an overly negative demon turned on a full moon, yknow? They could very well sink this ship if you can’t stop them and tame them.” he informed him before he winked over his shoulder, disappearing in a small puff of smoke. 

Hongjoong rubbed his temples and shook his head, letting it fall onto the table beside Seonghwa’s body so he could finally rest. 

What a long night.

=~=

“So, one more time for me,” Seonghwa laughed, looking over at Hongjoong as the young captain rubbed his temples, unnamused. 

“I’m a demon. I saved your life by performing a blood pact with you. You’re like me now, an immortal. And on the next full moon, you’re demonic powers will awaken.” 

Seonghwa snorted, but Daniel only nodded from beside Hongjoong. 

“Take your bandages off, then.” He urged him, waving a hand. “There’s no way your wounds would have healed overnight without some form of magics, yes?” he hummed, sending Hongjoong a wink when the younger man sent him a thankful smile.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and moved to take the bandage off of his cheek, running his fingers over the skin there.

Smooth.

He blinked, eyes wide as he touched his face firmly, lips parting when he felt a distinct lack of a gash there. Hell, he didn't feel any pain, either. 

He tore his shirt off, pulling at his bandages until they were off, lips parting as he looked at his shoulder, uninjured and fully functioning without a persistent spark of pain.

"What the hell did you do-"

Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

"Maybe I should've just let him pass peacefully. For my sanity." He grunted, standing up.

"If you're feeling better, then, get up and follow me. From now on, you're part of my crew. Everyone has to pull their own weight and a lot of people helped you escape, Prince Seonghwa, not just me." He informed him. Seonghwa's lip curled. 

"Don't call me Prince anymore."

"Fair enough. Let's get to work then, Seonghwa."

"I still have questions."

"I'll answer them after you swab the deck."

=2 Weeks Later=

"They're at it again?" Psy hummed, watching as Seonghwa and Hongjoong bickered. Seonghwa had gotten into the habit of calling Hongjoong 'petit putois' idly and it often made the small demon bristle.

"What does that mean?!"

"Non, if I tell you, it wouldn't be fun, now would it?"

"All I know is, you called me small, didnt you?"

Seonghwa's lips twitched, humming as he looked away. He often mulled around the ship, lost in his own thoughts with a clenched jaw, but something about Hongjoong made some of the tension in his shoulders loosen.

"I don't know. Is that what that means?"

"Listen-"

The two went back at it and Daniel smiled, crossing his arms. 

"They look good together." He mused, watching Seonghwa stroll away from their slightly annoyed captain. Psy tilted his head, a fond look in his eyes.

"Ah yes, they remind me of a certain two people when they crossed paths." He replied, glancing at Daniel. The man smiled, closing his eyes.

"I do suppose they share some qualities."

=~The Night of the Full Moon~=

Hongjoong was restless, pacing as he stood on the deck with Seonghwa. He checked his watch, unsure of when exactly the moon was the highest.

"What exactly are we waiting for?" Seonghwa inquired, looking towards Hongjoong. Hongjoong stood across from him, holding out both of his hands. In one, was a ball of wind, the other held a plume of fire.

"I gave you one of my powers when I turned you. Tonight is the night you get them fully according to Dawn. I have to help you control them, so your demon self doesn't destroy my ship."

Seonghwa nodded, looking at his hands.

"I feel fine, though."

Hongjoong shook his hands, making both balls of elemental magic disappear before he focused on Seonghwa.

The clouds obscuring the moon rolled past and Hongjoong felt the night air dip into a chill.

Seonghwa froze, his brows twitching. 

"What-" he stopped himself, clenching his shirt as he fell to his knees. Hongjoong cursed, quickly making his way over to him as snow began to fall from the sky.

"Seonghwa-"

"Don't touch me."

He stopped in his tracks, watching the blonde of Seonghwa's hair bleed into an inky black that rivaled even Hyuna's. Seonghwa trembled, a low, pained laugh leaving his throat as he hunched over. 

Hongjoong shook his head and continued approaching the ex prince as the snow turned into hail.

"Talk to me? Are you in pain?"

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone."

Seonghwa lifted his head and Hongjoong noticed the gray of his eyes was a snow white color. There were ruby marks going down his face, from above his brows to the middle of his cheeks like gashes, and when his lips curled up in a snarl, Hongjoong noticed their bloody red color. 

Seonghwa growled at their proximity and swung, shards of ice flying full speed at Hongjoong. He flinched at first, but threw up his hand, a wall of fire melting the shards before he frowned. 

"Seonghwa, calm down."

"Cap'n! The sea is freezin!'" a crew member cried out from behind him. Hongjoong noticed the ship slowing and looked back at Seonghwa, who had began to cry, cursing in several languages as he swayed. 

"Gone, gone, she's gone. I don't need anyone anymore. No one. Stay away from me. Don't touch me." He mumbled. Hongjoong shook his head and approached him again, ignoring the next shard of ice that flew his way and the way it cut into his cheek. 

"No. Stay away. Get away from me. I don't need you! I don't need anyone!" He barked, a circle of ice swirling around them. 

"Hongjoong, he's gonna destroy the hull if the ice keeps forming!" Daniel barked from above. Hongjoong only nodded, continuing to close in on Seonghwa. 

"She would be sad to hear you say that, wouldn't she, matey?"

Seonghwa bristled, the ice closing in around them as he turned his furious gaze at Hongjoong. 

"You know nothing of my mother!"

"I know she was a beautiful queen with a beautiful soul and with her last days she wanted nothing more than for her son to live. Is isolating yourself a way to live? Would she be happy knowing you're pushing everyone away?"

"I do not need anyone! The last time I trusted someone, he killed my only blood related family left and tried to kill me!"

"The last time you trusted someone, he took you aboard this ship and gave you another chance at life." 

Seonghwa's chest heaved as he stared at Hongjoong, the ice around them thickening.

"You...you'll just-"

"You can wound me with this ice, but if you compare me to that coward of a prince, I'll set you ablaze myself."

Hongjoong's eyes were adamant as he stopped in front of Seonghwa. The older man stared at him, tears rolling down his marked cheeks. Hongjoong extended a hand to him. 

"It's okay to lean on someone again, Seonghwa. We're not him. We're an honest family. You're here now. I won't let anything else happen to you."

Seonghwa looked at his hand before he stepped into his space, his feet at either side of Hongjoong's. He pulled him into a hug, sobbing against his shoulder as the smaller demon closed his eyes. 

The ice crumbled, melting away as Seonghwa relaxed, the demon side of him no longer raging. Hongjoong continued to rub his back, standing at the center of the deck with him.

=The Next Day=

"I'm sorry. It was unbecoming of me to-"

"Stop apologizing. It's not your style."

"Just let me apologize, I put the crew in danger-"

"Seonghwa."

Hongjoong stopped abruptly, turning to send Seonghwa a small, tired smile. He had stayed up all night to ensure Seonghwa didn't have another episode, and fatigue was clear on his features. 

"You worry too much. It's alright. I'd do anything for my crew." He pointed to the small compass-shaped mark on Seonghwa's right wrist. It matched the one on his left, though the needle pointed in different directions. 

"Just take care of yourself and remember to lean on us from now on, okay?" He urged. Seonghwa hummed and nodded.

"Right...I understand. Thank you, mon petit putois." 

"No problem- wait. You added a word this time. What does that mean?!"

Seonghwa smiled and walked past him.

"Just a term of endearment, all for you, Captain."

=Months Later=

Seonghwa ran a hand through his hair as he entered Hongjoong's room, finding him looking at maps once again.

"Captain, you should be sleeping. Staying up late to look at the same old maps is the reason you're so exhausted." He told him. Hongjoong shook his head, pointing to one point one of them.

"I was told this area is rich in resources. We can head here after we leave the next stop-" he was cut off by Seonghwa pulling the maps away from him. 

"Tomorrow. You can look at them tomorrow. Go to sleep, putois."

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. 

"You're never gonna tell me what that means, are you?"

"Tomorrow, if you sleep right now." 

"Lying doesn't suit you."

Seonghwa laughed, a smile coming to his face as he looked down at the seated captain. Hongjoong shook his head, despite the smile on his face as he made his way to his bed. Seonghwa followed him, shrugging off his jacket as he watched Hongjoong haphazardly toss aside his shirt. 

"Eyeballing your captain? I didn't realize my new First Mate was such a hound." Hongjoong teased, turning to face Seonghwa. The blonde pirate idly ran his tongue across his lips.

"Daniel gave me this position because I'm a capable person for the job. Besides, I haven't heard you complain about this hound yet, Captain Hongjoong." He teased, crowding against Hongjoong. The brunette bit back the witty comeback he had in lieu of pulling Seonghwa in for a kiss, pulling them into his bed.

"You talk too much. Either kiss me, or shut up and go to sleep."

Seonghwa smirked against his lips, their noses brushing against each other. 

"Aye, aye, Captain~"

[thecurseoflife]

CHAPTER 11 - The Snuggly Duckling

They had been walking silently for hours. Varian was still leading the way, and the table stand was surprisingly holding up quite well. Not half of it had been consumed by fire yet. Camalia was following him, deep in her thoughts. She took out of one of her pocket the pages she wrote on while she was in crisis. It was messy, but readable. Camalia had a couple of blank pages left. She took out the burn shard she used to write and started filling a page. It was kind of hard while walking but she didn't care. The list was clear enough. It would do. Once she was satisfied, she put everything back in her pocket and... violently hit Varian's back.

-OW !

She fell on her butt and rubbed her nose. Why did he stop like that ? She looked over. The small gallery finally ended and seemed to join a way bigger one. It had timbers to hold it up and even some torches that weren't lit. It was just a bigger gallery. But the alchemist seemed frozen. Camalia got back up and landed a hand on his shoulder. The contact seemed to get him back to reality.

-Varian, are you ok ?

He shook her hand of his shoulder and continued to move forward.

-Yes, I'm fine. Let's keep moving.

Camalia looked hurt, but the alchemist couldn't see it. And even if he did, he wouldn't have cared. The music mage took a deep breath, yet again. It was going to be okay. She handled two giant black snakes for ten years, she should be able to deal with a moody teenager. Hopefully.

They took one of the torch on the wall and lighted it up with the table stand before leaving the burned wood where they stood.

And they resumed to silently following the path. The girl didn't want to bother Varian with this, but her feet were seriously starting to hurt. After all, being bare foot in a tunnel filled with pointy rocks and walking on them for hours wasn't really the best idea. Every steps was starting to feel like torture. She couldn't wait to be outside and to walk on sweet, soft grass. Or at least on a paved path. Anywhere, really than underground with an angry Varian, hurt feet and a dying torch.

After what felt like eternity to Camalia's poor feet, they finally saw a way out. They had to climb a ladder to get to it, but the light shining through the hatch wasn't lying.

Varian pushed the trapdoor. It was placed in the giant hole of a tree, in the middle of the forest. When they closed it after being out, they noticed it had a weird duckling painting on it. As soon as they were outside, Camalia jumped in a pool of water with a relieved scream. She fell on her back and started doing an angel in the green healthy grass while chuckling like an idiot. For the first time in forever, she was outside during daylight, without having to hide or go straight to somewhere. She felt free. Once her feet felt better, she happily ran around enjoying the feel of every kind of ground she met under her toes. When Varian saw that it might take a while to keep moving, and that they needed a break anyway, he sat on one of the root of the hole tree and waited, watching his totally former friend enjoying herself.

There was no friendship anymore, just two people trying to save a dad from a magical amber. It was the only reason he was with her anyway. His only purpose : freeing his dad. Those thoughts were swerling in the alchemist's head as he was calmly waiting and watching Camalia climbing a tree with a very discreet smile.

Moments later, when the music mage was finally tired out and plopped beside Varian, he had a pretty good idea what they should be doing next. He decided that it was worth it to expose his plan to her.

-First of all, we have to avoid frequently used roads, stay in the forests where we can easily hide and get to my house as fast as possible. Let's avoid any distractions, just... Getting to Old Corona.

-Get to your house ? Why ?

Varian slapped himself in his mind. With all that had been going on, he didn't even mention to Camalia what he wanted her to do. He looked straight in her eyes.

-I think you could be able to free my dad.

Camalia was caught off guard. She genuinely expected him to say something like "we need to hide". She opened her mouth but the information hadn't been completely registered yet. Resulting on a very stupid position. When she finally finished processing what just happened, she reacted.

-Okay, hum. What. Why should I be the one to be able to break the unbreakable amber ?

Varian rolled his eyes, a little bit annoyed she wasn't putting it together when it was so obvious.

-You're a powerful music mage, and if the princess' hair didn't work, you're my last chance on the magic side. But since the amber is technically magic too, I think science and alchemy can't work on it. So you're my last, last chance.

-I- Okay. Okay. Yeah okay, I-hum... I'll try. I hope it'll work but... Varian ? You have to prepare yourself in case it doesn't.

The boy got up, storm in his eyes.

-I know what to do. You don't have to tell me, thanks.

-I was just concerned-

-Well don't. Let's keep moving.

They walked on a rocky and unused path for several minutes, and yet again, silence was rulling. Camalia was getting tired of the sound of their steps, and even if the chip of birds and the wind in the trees were beautiful sounds, they were all obliterated by the girl's discomfort. She wanted to make things right between Varian and her. So, she tried to talk.

-So, uh... Where's Ruddiger, anyway ?

-I left him home to watch over Dad since he's obviously the only one I can trust.

He looked at her with anger, trying to make her feel even more guilty. Camalia was baffled by how much the alchemist wasn't letting this go.

-Oh, come on Varian ! Are you going to be mad at me forever ? We had a bonding moment at the prison ! Does that mean nothing to you ?!

Varian brutally stopped and turned around.

-I have all the right in the world to be upset. And if I am going to be mad at you forever, deal with it. I am not going to apologize for something I didn't do. The only reason you're here right now is because I need you in order to free my dad. There's nothing else. And believe me, if there was any other music mages around here, even a big and scary one, I would gladly trade him over you.

As Varian resumed to walking, Camalia didn't. His words hurted. They hurted bad. Those words and all of those before. And Captain words, and the snakes' and all of this pain and everything she had buried deep inside of her, all her feelings suddenly crawled up to the surface and the girl exploded.

-I was scared, ok ?! I was scared that if I told you everything, maybe the curse would pass on to you or something ! I never experienced ANY of this. Relationship, friendship, the-the world, the unspoken codes of behaving well, all of this is NEW. I have only read about those in books. You are my first friend, Varian, so of course I make mistakes, and I mess up bad. I was raised by BOOKS and murderous giant snakes, for the king's sake, OF COURSE I am disturbed and I make bad decisions ! I mean, come on, Witheria used to throw me against a WALL when I was diserespectful ! So yes, I am sorry, I am deeply sorry, and I totally fully understood that honesty is super important in friendship, but PLEASE, try to see things from my perspective !

The alchemist had stopped again, and was staring at Camalia with deep surprise. She tried to get rid of the tears running down her cheeks but she only made it more of a mess.

-The only other person that could be more or less perceived as a friend would be Captain ! And I can assure you he's not a great reference, especially when you're a prisonner. And should I remember to you, Varian, that ten years before knowing you I made the decision to lock myself up in jail for the rest of my life ! I didn't even learn that we weren't supposed to eat with the mouth open before I was like, nine years old ! I am the queen of bad decisions ! And I should really stop yelling at you, I am so sorry, I am not even in the place to be angry at you right now. I shouldn't be dumping all of this on you, I can handle this. I-Sorry, I'll just, shut up and uh... Yeah.

Camalia was awkwardly standing there, trying to wipe out the droplets, and avoiding the boy's look. She had small hiccups and bright red cheeks. For once, she really looked like a lost, confused and scared child. For once, she looked like how she felt inside. Varian opened his mouth, a bit shook by the flow of words, but the music mage cut him.

-And if you want to know everything I know, if you want to know the truth, I'll tell you. With no lying, no nothing. Okay ?

He nodded silently as she walked past him. He could hear her sniff in front of him, and it made him really uncomfortable. He still knew he was right, but maybe he went too far this time. And it wasn't true after all. Between a scary and unknown powerful music mage and sweet and messed up Camalia, he would obviously pick the girl.

-Listen-

They both spoke at the same time. The two former friends looked at eachother with surprise and let out a small giggle.

-Go ahead, Camalia.

-Listen, Varian. I didn't mean to scream at you and I shouldn't have. It's just that... Everything is so... New and overwhelming. I am out and I-I can actually live for the first time in ten years, and I am free from the curse, and I... I am just really, really sorry for lying to you. I know I am repeating myself but I... I really am. I am just a terrible friend.

Varian took the time to organize his thoughts. He was about to speak when they both heard something. Some kind of muffled voices, near them. Camalia looked behind a tree and gasped. There was a tavern, with the exact same symbol than the one on the hatch. The music mage turned an excited look to Varian.

-We should go !

-What- No ! We said no distractions ! Straight to my house !

-Yeah, but I'm hungry, you're hungry, we're both tired, and there is a place that could give us rest and food just there ! It would be a shame to miss it. Plus, there's the duck thing, so they must be friendly to people that burst out of jail.

-I don't know, Camalia, this seems like a bad idea... At least we should hide our identities.

The girl had a smile ears to ears, happy to go to a place with other people and to finally merge. She looked around and took a black thing that was laying there. She got closer to Varian that took a step back.

-Wowowo, I thought you had some kind of melody for this !

-Nope !

She spread the black stuff in his head, hiding his hair strip. Satisfied, she took a step back to admire her work.

-Seriously ? I don't think it'll be enough.

Camalia frowned and put the boy's googles on his chest instead of his head before nodding knowingly. She proceed to put a single mole in her cheek and she was done. Varian let out a very long sigh.

-This is going to end badly.

The music mage shrugged it off and ran toward the tavern, her heart pounding in her chest. The alchemist had a bad feeling about all this, but he followed her anyway.

-Come on, Varian ! Hurry up !

She was waiting in front of the door for him, stomping her feet with impatience. Once he was finally there, she opened the door wide and stepped in. The tavern that was noisy a minute ago brutally fell silent. Everyone was staring at the two kids with suspicious looks. One of them, a giant with two reduced human skulls on his chest, got up and approached them. He detailed them carefully and pulled out a wanted poster with both of their faces on it.

-I knew this was a bad idea...

Varian just whispered that, and seeing how close the man was, he probably heard it. But he didn't seem to care and taped on the paper, making Varian jolt a little.

-Have you seen those two ?

The alchemist stared at the colossus with disbelief. Was he serious ? It was obviously them. He looked over the guy's shoulder, and everyone else in the tavern seemed to think the same thing.

-I- uh... We... We didn't...

Varian stuttered, incapable of making a coherent sentence.

-Nope, we haven't seen them. Sorry guys.

The man grunted in disappointment and went back to the table with his "pals". Varian slowly started to breath again. Beside him, Camalia was waving and smiling to all those terrifying criminals. That girl was definitely insane. No normal human being should have been able to keep this calm in this situation. She pulled the boy toward the counter, and he could see that everyone had lost interest in them.

They sat in the chairs and Camalia ordered two drinks while the alchemist was trying to relax, surrounded by all those people that obviously thought of nothing else but getting them to the guards. It was a terrible idea, they should have never entered here. But if they left now in a hurry, it would have just been more suspicious. Beside him, unaware of the swerling thought in her friend's head, Camalia was having the time of her life. She was looking up and down, side to side, eager to understand, to see and to know everything there is to know about this place. It was the very first public place she'd ever been too, and for her, it was amazing.

The drinks finally arrived and Varian drunk all of his at once. It had a weird taste, but it immediatly relaxed him. He had a small hiccup when he put his empty cup down. Camalia was taking it slow, the strange aroma not really bothering her. Even if each sip was making her feel a little odd. But she thought it was normal, so she wasn't really alarmed by it.

Very soon, they both were completely drunk. Neither of them had never took alcohol before, and it was really effective. Varian started to see something was off when his sight became blurry. He had a moment where he thought they'd been poisoned, before realising it wasn't going any further than having a blurry sight, small hiccups from time to time and difficulty to actually think things through.

He frowned, like he was in deep concentration, and turned to Camalia that was just finishing her drink.

-Camalia, I think... I think we've just drank alcohool.

The guitare girl giggled stupidly.

-Oh, we did ? So that's what it taste like... I don't know if I like it though.

-Camlaia, this is serious ! We, hum, we're on the run, and it's a -hic- terrible time to get drunk.

-Relaaaax, Varian, we're going to be okay, it'ssss just a lil' bit of alcohool, and nobody know we're on the run here ! Isss just fine.

Varian scrouched his nose and pouted. It was probably not okay, but he couldn't keep focused long enough to actually find a decent solution to this, so he just shrugged it off.

-Hey, Camlaie... Camalai... Cam... Wow, your name is really hard to say when we're drunk.

They both started to chuckle until laughing uncontrollably, one of them often trying to say the girl's name and failing hilariously. At that point, with two completely wasted teenager hurling in his tavern, the barman was starting to reconsider his life choices, especially the one of mindlessly handing them two full cup of strong liquor.

When they finally calmed down, to the relief of the poor tavernier, the alchemist could finally say carefully, very carefully, what he wa meaning to say.

-Why was one of the snakes calling you "little plant" ?

Camalia considered him for a moment.

-Really ? Of all the questions you could ask right now, THIS is the -hic- the one you chose ?

Varian shrugged. Oddly enough, it was the first one that popped into his mind. It was probably the ethanol that was making this thought emerge from all the others.

-Well, at first it was because of the color of my eyes, because their insanely green, y'know... But it was just an occasional thing, most of the time she was just calling me "dear" or something... Then I grew giant stuffs of grass alllll over the cell and suddenly, BAM ! It was the official nickname ! Like, really ? But you know they kind of also threw me against walls and stuffs so uh, I guess it was the least of my worries. But I had a moment when she first called me that. I was like : well, uh... well that's... that's surprising, you know ?

The boy snickered and faced the girl, a big smile on his face.

-Wait so that mean she started to call you that because you -hic- you smashed everything in jail with a... a ding ding of your guitare ?

-Yeeeep...

He laughed again, finding it hilarious for some reason. She chuckled softly and took a sip of the water the barman carefully put in front of them. She really missed that. They may be completely drunk, and in a terrible place with poor disguise, and Varian may still be mad at her, but she felt great. Not just because of the alcohol. She just... she felt great.

-Oh, oh, did she have a nickname for me ?

Camalia focused on her friend again, and she tried to remember if she did...

-Well... If I remember correctly -wich I probably don't- she called you "alchemy boy" like... hic, once.

He thought about it for a minute or so, before nodding, like he was approving it.

-I guess it's a better nickname than "sburben", heh.

Camalia chocked in her drink, not expecting the joke and they both laughed at the top of their lungs. They were having fun, as much as back when they were in jail and hanging out. Camalia shuffled Varian's hair in an affective way and smiled at him.

-What can I say, Ball, my curse was great at finding nicknames !

Varian suddenly stopped laughing and he looked at his friend with emotion, hardly expressing the punch in the stomach he just felt. But for once, it was a good feeling. He felt his eyes water a little but he refused to become that emotional over a single word. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, emotion drowning his words as effectively as if he was in deep sea. He concentrated, and after long enough, a sentence finally crossed the barrier of his lips.

-It's... been a while since you called me that.

Camalia grinned, warmth and affection in her eyes. She raised her glass as if to salute him and took a sip before answering.

-It's been a while since I could.

Another wave of emotions hit Varian and he took deep breaths. Everything was messy in his head, and he didn't really know where he was at that point. He leaned of the counter, his head in his hands. Camalia wasn't worried, she knew he wasn't in actual pain. She kept drinking the water with a small smile, looking around the tavern and waving at whoever crossed her eyes.

The alchemist could hardly think, between all those feelings and the alcohol slithering in his veins. But he wanted to speak, and to actually express what he really had in his heart. He wanted to talk.

-Listen, I want to forgive you but... You shouldn't have done that. Not at that moment, not when I was in that state. A friend wouldn't have done what you've done.

He looked up in her eyes, and she could see that for once he was sincere. Camalia didn't look hurt or anything. She was listenning. And it encourage him to open even more.

-But on the other hand, to be honest, I... kind of consider you as a "best friend" ? I-I guess ? Because you are still sticking around despite me being a jerk around you, and... and you still have my back, you... you don't give up on me, and I think that's what friends do. But I still feel awful behaving like that around you, but I-I still can't forgive you... I...I don't know, I'm just...

He hid his face in his hands and sighed. He felt lighter after speaking, but it felt like it wasn't enough. It felt like he couldn't stop the flow of words, after holding them back for so long. It felt like he could say his deepest secrets and not regret it. But he shouldn't, he had to keep quiet, to keep it to himself like he always did.

-I'm just so confused...

Camalia winced a little. To be honest, she wasn't really seeing clear either. And it was not a pun with the fact they are currently drunk. The guitare girl didn't really know where she was in life at that point. What she was supposed to do, to say, how she was supposed to act, to behave, to walk... But all of that she already expressed it earlier. She didn't know what to do of her life, but she knew she wanted Varian to be a part of it. Camalia really wanted the scientist to be friend with her again. With all that in mind, she was about to answer when Varian suddenly sat straight up and continued talking.

-And I just realised that I am making the mistakes I did with Rapunzel all over again ! We were friends, now we aren't because of something you did that hurted me, I am trying to use you to free my dad... What's next ? I try to kill you with a giant robot and I fail, and I'm put back in prison again ?

Suddenly it was as if all the weights in the world was put back on his shoulders, and tiredness spread on his face. It was like all of what he had done, all of his mistakes and guilt were back after Camalia chased them away months ago. It was as if he remembered what he never forgot.

-I'm... I am just a mess, Cam.

Varian was avoiding her look, staring at the wall across the tavern. The girl softly brushed his arm, making him look back up. She had a weak smile before taking his hand in hers. She hesitated, biting her lips as if it costed her to say it. She frowned and made up her mind, looking straight in her friend blue eyes.

-Well, I am a mess too. Maybe... maybe we could try to stop being messes together ?

Varian squeezed slightly her hand, and not really knowing how to answer, he just smiled gently. Camalia could see this whole situation was really overwhelming for both of them, so she decided to break the crushing mood. She put her arms around his neck and hugged a very confused alchemist. Suddenly they were back in the tavern, even if they never left, with all criminals, the dimed light and the alcohol in their veins. Out of nowhere, Camalia climbed the counter and pointed her guitare in the air as if it was a sword.

Does any of this really matter, after all ?

We have other thing to worry about, Ball.

And really, maybe you'll be the best friend I'll never be.

Varian chuckled and clapped along, even if it meant dragging all attention onto them. Well, if they had to go down, the least they could do is go down with style.

And we jump, and we spin, around and around,

Not worrying about what might come next

Because what use to open the wound

When really you're the best friend I'll never be

But Camalia was already in the song, spinning and jumping like she was saying, hoping down the counter to jump on a table, talking like a bard spreading the best ballad of the moment. All of the bad guys in the tavern raised their heads, listenning to the teen, most of them seemed really invested in the song, even to move their foot in rythm. Some were so much into it that they grabbed whatever they had under their hands and started to provide background to the song. Camalia was dancing, from table to table, singing, and pouring her emotions out, laughing and smiling like it was all that mattered.

Because you're smart

Because you're great

Because you never give up, no you never do

And because you're kind

Because you're the best thing that ever happened to me

People were dancing all around the tavern by now, playing whatever instruments they made or singing along, some just moving around. The alchemist jumped on the same table Camalia was on and sang the last line with her, grinning ear to ear.

Yeah that's why you're the best friend I'll never be !

Happy to see that Varian was as much into the moment as her, Camalia danced with him on the table while the song carried on in the crowd, each client of the tavern passing the song to another.

I used to throw fires at people I didn't like

I used to scare people away because I was too buff

I used to do some mountain bike

I used to collect handcuffs

I used to sing but it was too deep

I used to make some tasty cakes

I used to sell stolen things a bit cheap

I used to dive in frozen lakes

The two teenagers jumped off the table and danced around before taking the song back.

I used to threaten kingdom and royalty

And I used to be in jail for all eternity

And in a strong chorus everyone was singing at the top of their lungs the two sentences, as if they will never sing again.

But none of this you ever cared,

Because you're the best friend I'll never be !

This time Varian took over, driven by the song, the piano someone finally started to use following his voice and steps as he danced through the tavern, incapable of stopping, the beat in his heart, the melody in his head, the lyrics in his mouth, and the great happiness in his soul.

Because you're sweet,

Because you can play some melodies,

Because you're curious about what is all around us

And because you're cool,

Because you're one of the best thing that ever happened to me

Yeah that's why you're the best friend I'll never be !

Everyone was lead by the song, smiles were all over the place, laughter resonated from time to time, and everything was just joy and music. The beat, the piano, the chorus, the voices, the moves, the tavern, the people, the heat, the lights, the moment, everything was perfect. Everything was fine, so fine you could get lost and never emerge from it. But they would get out of there. They always did and always will.

And it's because you're strong

And passionnate

And considerate

And it's because you play like a god

And sing

And swing

And it's because you're the greatest thing that ever happened to me,

Yeah the greatest thing that ever happened to me

That's why you're the best friend I'll never be !

The song ended but nobody moved, heavy breathing being all you could hear for a couple of seconds, before someone snicker in a corner and the whole Snuggly Duckling exploded in laughter. Slaps on people's back you didn't know five minutes before were distributed and friendship that weren't even a thought formed. Varian and Camalia finally exited the happy tavern arm in arm, grinning and snorting, completely unnoticed and overlooked. It may be because of the song still beating in their ears, or the alcohol still flowing in their blood, but they were both really relaxed and glad to be right there, right now, with the right person.

The day was warm, with a gentle wind brushing the skin, avoiding any burn. The grass was fresh and the birds singing in the trees. After walking a while in the forest, away from the path and tavern, laughing and stumbling, Camalia and Varian plopped down in the grass, under a tree gracefully protecting them with it's shadow. They stayed like that a while, laying peacefully in the grass. A few insects passed by, wondering what those two humans were doing here, then going on with their day.

-Hey Varian, can you guess what a lycaedes melissa samuelis is ?

The alchemist felt his heart warm up and tears built up in his eyes. He brushed them away, smiling like a kid, and thinking about what she asked. His brain was really slowed down by the alcohol, and he couldn't keep focus on searching an answer. Distractly looking at a squirrel jumping from branch to branch, he shrugged and gave the first thing that came in his mind.

-I have no idea why, but it makes me think of a butterfly.

-Woah, no way, you guessed !

-Really ? You're not messing with me ?

-No no, I swear ! It's probably the only insect's name I remember but it's because there was such a pretty drawing of the butterfly in the book, it just stuck with me.

He snickered, proud of guessing the right thing. He started thinking about a question to ask his friend, when his train of thoughts stopped on something.

-Hey, Camli- Cam ?

The music mage was surprised by the serious tone of his voice, and her throat tighten. She feared she had taken a step too far and now he was mad at her again for some reason, and she would be all alone again. Thankfully, it was not what happened.

-Before we enter the duck tavern, you... you said you would actually tell me your real story if I wanted to. Well... I do.

Camalia took a moment to actually register the information and calm down from the rush of adrealin she just had. It was always difficult for her to talk about her past. No, it was the first time ever she would actually talk about it to anyone. But it wasn't just anyone, it was Varian, and, if he couldn't trust her... she knew she could trust him.

-Okay. So I don't remember anything before waking up in an alley in Corona. I was around 1 I think, so it's really blurry, but I do know that Witheria and Decaiera were with me. Not the giant scary snakes you saw, they were... two sweet and small white snakes that took care of me until I turned 4. That year, I can not forget. They were there, and then POOF ! Gone ! The day I turned 4. I never understood why that day, but I did understand where they went not long after that. Wait I-hum... That's not in the right order. Hold on, backing down.

Varian giggled as silently as possible, but he still got a tap on his head from an annoyed Camalia.

-So I turned 4, they were gone, I was all alone without a house or anything, with nothing but a guitare and a stolen shirt I used as a dress. I never had to worry about sleeping soundly or... or food, With' and Decaiera were always providing. But then, I had to think about those. I didn't want to steal at first, So I tried performing in the street so people would give me money and I could buy something. Surprisingly, it worked pretty well, until that guy I told you about came and wrecked my guitare on the ground. I got really scared that the horrible pain would go back if I tried playing and singing again for money, so I... I just stopped. But I still had to eat. So, after three days without eating, I stole something. It was just an apple I think. Anyway, I was really tired and weak, and the guards catched me really quickly. I went to court, and I was terrified. I was holding at my guitare like my life depended on it -which, heh, it does- in the middle of all those giants talking about what they should do with me. When one of them mentionned raising me and giving me a home., I got scared. Yeah, I uh... I forgot to mention -I am terrible at telling stories- that I had a crisis during the time I was starving myself.

The alchemist frowned and was about to ask a question then shut his mouth. He would wait until she's done opening up. It was for the better.

-I knew I was super dangerous, and I didn't want to hurt anyone. So I asked them to put me in a place where I couldn't. That's when Cap' spoke up. I went in prison, and imagine, going from a dirty alley, using the rain to shower to Corona's prison ? That was amazing for me ! I had a bed, and space, and a ceiling above my head. I felt safe for the first time in a year. I was so excited ! The king and queen accepted to let me stay there. I met Masha that day, she was the one to bath me and make me eat when I was a kid. So the years passed, I had a crisis every single years, sometime more, but never less. I was still happy with what I got, but at ten years old, it was starting to feel a bit... small. And lonely. Cap' often came by to talk or play with me, he was like a friend to me... But there always been a...a distance, you know ? Like I wasn't really part of his world. So, I tried to have friends in prison.

Camalia took a break there. She didn't really like to talk about how lonely and distressed she felt all the time back then. But she wanted to be completely honest to Varian. She just needed some time to get this right.

-Most of the times the baddies were just ignoring me, some used me to escape, and some were actually really nice to me, until they got out and forgot all about my existence. That was a fun part of my life. But most of the time, I was bored and alone. I knew I had a key to get out, but I was always terrified that it would be when I was outside the snakes would "possess" me or something. So I stayed in jail, reading an insane amount of books, playing with my guitare and doing some stupid stuffs whenever I could. Cap' often came down to yell at me because I exploded something or sang to loud. Oh, I remember I used to go in the castle, back when the curse wasn't as strong as today. I met a lot of people, and I think they liked me ! But never enough to go see me in prison. I never saw the king or queen again, don't really know why. And about the prisoners, there was that guy, Flynn Rider, that really stuck with me because he had the exact same name as my favourite book character ! He was also really nice to me whenever he came by. Which was a lot. It took him a while to actually remember my name, but once he did, he got it. He always waved at me whenever he passed by to go to his cell. Really nice guy. Now that I think of it, I haven't seen him in a while.

Varian was about to inform her of the wereabout of the book character, but he changed his mind once again at the last moment.

-Anyway, I grew up, and Cap' was spending less and less time with me, until he didn't come at all, except to be angry at me. I never understood why, but I shrugged it off, there wasn't much I could do. And then, YOU showed up ! I was so happy to see that there was someone my age in the cell right across the corridor ! Of course, at that time, you weren't really "in the mood". But I always hated to see people down and I really wanted to cheer you up. Blah blah blah, we became friends, gnagnagna, I lied to you because I was afraid, blah blah blah, you learned about the curse, got mad at me, we escaped, and HERE WE ARE !

Her voice faded away and the birds, wind, insects and soft brush took over what was their. The sounds mingled together in perfect harmony, the only melody they wanted to hear right now. The melody of nature. Varian had thousands questions, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he reached out for Camalia's hand and hold it tight. The sun was warm, the shadow was cool, the tree was chanting, the birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, life was all around them and in their heart and soul. They silently contemplated everything.

Maybe it was already fine. FIRST / PREVIOUS

[thought-42]

Fictober day 6: “that was impressive”

Critical Role,1461 words, vex, others. Mention of canonical minor character death. Part one of...more than one.

Vex'ahlia is not the sort of child to have imaginary friends. She grows up with her brother always at her side, with an attentive mother and the birds and rabbits in the woods as eager playmates. She never wants for company, and is only alone if she wishes to be. So, in the words of a frustrated, playing-at-adult Vax, it is 'fucking weird' that she's got four of them.

 She doesn't really remember ever being alone in her own head. They're not intrusive, and it's not as if they don't have lives of their own to lead, but if she wants someone to talk to there has always been a friend even nearer than her brother.

'I hate this,' she says, staring down at her notebook where she's scribbled a list of dates and names from history that she can't seem to keep straight. 'Why do we even have to learn this, anyway? They're all dead.'

'Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it,' the Young Lord says, confidently. 'Or something like that.'

'How terrible for you, to have an education,' the Charmer says.

'Maybe try drawing pictures of all the people you have to remember,' the Princess offers. 'Give them funny hats.'

Vex blows out a frustrated breath and goes to find Vax so they can suffer together.

It's not that Vex thinks they're real people or anything. She's not a child. And perhaps it's indulgent to the point of stupidity to cling to such games as she gets older, but to leave them behind would feel ...wrong.

She tells Vax all about them when they're children, and he's delighted by the idea once he gets over his jealousy. He makes up people who live in his head, too, and for a while they spend their days gossiping about a whole network of acquaintances, like they're fancy merchants or royals in the city, calling on each other to sit around in a fancy parlour and drink tea while they update each other on the goings-on of all of their friends. But eventually, Vax's interest fades, and he forgets the people he's made up, moves on to other games.

'That's not actually how it works, you know,' the Young Lord tells her. 'It's not all fancy dress and tea parties.'

'Bullshit it's not,' says the Charmer.

'I mean... that is kind of how it works,' the Princess drawls, and Vex can hear the amusement in her voice.

When they're fourteen, Vax says he doesn't want to hear about her friends anymore. He tells her it's time to grow up. Says they'll have real problems soon enough.

'But I don't want you to grow up,' the Princess says, nervously. 'If I'm the only kid then it's just like everywhere else. You're the only other kid I know.'

'That seems...' the Young Lord doesn't finish his thought.

'Deeply fucked up,' the Charmer finishes it for him. Vex has to agree.

'Do you need help?' she asks.

The Princess laughs. 'Noooo, I am ok! My mama is just very protective because I am very special.'

Vex thinks of the stories she's read about Princesses in towers. 'Maybe start growing your hair out, just in case.'

'I have very weak arms, I'm not doing any climbing,' the Young Lord warns them.

'I don't get it,' the Princess says, uncertainly.

'How is that even-- no, no, I don't actually care, never mind.' The Charmer always seems a little baffled by all of them. Vex thinks maybe he's older, because he talks about stuff like politics and Agreements and resource acquisition like he really cares.

Vax kicks her hard in the shin, and she focuses back on him. "Ok," she says. "You're right. I won't talk about them anymore."

And she does try. She ignores the conversations that happen in the background of her mind, ignores the prodding and the concern and the confusion and even the hurt, when it comes.

'I have a new imaginary friend, and he's way cooler than you anyway,' the Princess announces.

'Just another distraction I didn't need in the first place,' says the Charmer.

The Young Lord never really stops. He still provides cutting commentary on the ridiculous things the upper class visitors to his castle do, and only slightly less vicious mockery of his own family. It's hilarious. Not that Vex is listening. She's beyond imaginary friends, and one day her mind will stop trying to hold on to old habits.

Six months later she wakes up because someone is screaming.

"Fax!" she says, before she's even opened her eyes, but her brother is still asleep across the room. She rushes through the halls to their father's door, but when she peeks in, careful and silent, he, too, is asleep. It's only when she's standing outside on the damp grass of the lawn, staring frantically out into the night that she realizes.

She's the last to understand.

'Fucking focus, can you tell what they are? Have you seen them in sunlight? Idiot, I know you're observant, fucking think!' She's never heard this much emotion in the Charmer's voice before.

'Run! Just run you've got to run and hide, I am going to ask The traveler to help you, ok, he'll make everything better!'

'What's happened?' Vex demands.

'They're all dead,' says the Young Lord, which is probably the least reassuring response she can possibly imagine. 'They're all dead. They're going to kill us next.'

'Run!' the Princess repeats, frantic and scared.

'Fire might work,' the Charmer snaps. 'Holy water. Do you have holy water? Castles have temples and shit, don't they?'

'We're already out of the castle,' the Young Lord says. 'But they'll find us.'

'Who?' Vex asks.

'We're going to die, just like the rest of them,' he says. 'I've never heard my mother scream before.'

The Princess whimpers. The Charmer swears.

Vex says, 'You're not going to die. Keep running. Don't look back, don't think about anything but surviving. You've got to get as far away as you can and then hide.'

'They've found us,' he says. 'My sister.'

'Run,' Vex repeats, forcing herself to stay calm and firm. 'Just keep running.'

She's fairly sure he's older than her, but at this moment she feels like she's trying to calm a sobbing child.

'No,' he says. 'No. No. No. Not her, too. I've got to go back.'

'No please don't!' the Princess cries.

'Keep fucking running,' the Charmer snarls.

'I can't leave my sister,' he says.

Vex thinks about her own brother, lying peaceful and safe inside, knows she would give up anything and everything including her own life to keep him safe. But Vex has never claimed to be a selfless person. 'There's nothing you can do for her,' she says, harshly. 'Just keep going.'

They all stay awake the rest of the night. The Charmer says the people who killed the Young Lord's family were a vampire and a necromancer.

'Fat lot of good that does me without access to our library,' the Young Lord says, snidely. Vex has never felt emotions from her friends before but she swears she can taste his grief at the back of her throat. She doesn't know if the numb feeling of shock is his too or if that's all her own.

*

A year goes by. They keep the Young Lord from completely spiralling out into the apathy of grief by nothing less than a fucking miracle. Vex doesn't talk to her brother about it, but he knows something is wrong.

The night they run away from their father is a long one. It's unseasonably cold, and she's been trembling with fear and anticipation all day.

'I'm going to try something,' the Charmer says. 'Things might be very different, soon.'

'Oh hey, me too,' Vex says, high-strung and forcing a cheer into her thoughts that she doesn't believe herself.

'Nobody die,' the Young Lord says, listlessly.

'That was impressive, you almost sounded like you care,' the Charmer says, dryly.

'Don't worry, darling, this is going to be great,' Vex says.

Vex and Vax don't sleep for 48 hours, the rush through the silent grounds, the alleyways and side streets of the city, eating stale bread from their packs under the shelter of an overhang in the early hours of the morning, laughing hysterically together, drunk on adrenaline and the slow realization that they've done it. If something dark brushes Vex's thoughts, it is rapidly brushed aside by her joy.

The Princess sleeps, and in the night a hand brushes hair from her forehead, a green cloak trails across the floor as someone keeps watch.

In the morning, the Young Lord says, 'I've just had an idea.'

In the morning, the Charmer says nothing.

In the morning, someone new speaks for the very first time.

'Empty.'