#its very funny to watch Sunday suffering

[altruistic-meme]

update: we are back home from UC ✌️ and i have to go to the pharmacy when they're actually OPEN tomorrow :(

OUGH I need to stop googling symptoms :((((

[torchickentacos]

AG Watchthrough Episode 3: There's No Place Like Hoenn. AG003

Strategically doubling up on a couple days so we can watch iconic episode lines/scenes on their blog holidays (Solarbeam Go! Sunday, Harley's Ass Friday), so expect another post later today OR two tomorrow. This is a normal thing to care about achieving.

No real commentary here otherwise, no prefacing, so let's get into it.

AG003: There's No Place Like Hoenn

We're headed to Petalburg City! Remember how in AG002 I mentioned that a lot of episodes start out with Ash or May running ahead and the other one complaining about it? Yep, happens here too. Ash is excited for his Petalburg gym debut. May is not and lags behind. She seems to really dislike running. I don't blame her. I should make a ranking of pokemon characters most likely to walk the mile in PE... hmm. Someone remind me later.

Ash explains the badge system and the Hoenn League. May's weirdly dodgy about her dad again, which, BY THE WAY I will keep mentioning whenever it happens so you're all frustrated along with me when it's not expanded upon or resolved or even utilised in any meaningful way whatsoever. We're going to suffer through AG's lack of meaningful follow through on interesting plot/character points TOGETHER.

Anyways, it's really funny to me that in early AG Ash has no fucking idea what to make of May. He has a tendency to go "uhhhh sure?" to most of what she says. To be fair, Early AG Girlboss May™ isn't very direct whatsoever and she doesn't say what she means outright. She keeps her cards in her hand. Again, a contrast to later AG May who is much more of an open book. If this May keeps her cards in her hand, then later May doesn't have cards. She's not playing Poker, she's too busy playing metronome and assist roulette. Or go fish or something. So, May avoids going to Petalburg Gym and runs off to do... stuff??? And Ash goes to the gym, which is pretty similar to its in-game appearance, minus all the rooms of the gym puzzle.

Ash calls for the gym leader, and someone comes in claiming to be the gym leader!!!.... Hi Max. Max explains that he was right in the middle of watching a video of the Silver Conference, and he recognizes Ash ("You lost in the second round :D!"). We get a flashback reference to his battle between Charizard and Blaziken, which ticks the explosion counter up to 6. We're averaging two explosions per episode so far at episode 3. Hoenn loves explosions.

Max keeps pushing Ash's buttons, very intentionally. We get to know him as a character very well here- he's an impudent little know-it-all, but he does have the book smarts to back it up. Oddly, not entirely unlike AG Ash- an arrogant know-it-all with the battle experience to back it up. But Max enjoys getting a rise out of people, and he seems to very keenly know how to do so. Not that it's particularly hard with AG Ash, and this is the first real instance we'll see of that. He's been pretty patient with May so far, so this is the first time we see AG Ash AG Ash-ing.

Just wait until he tries to fistfight a child in the Deoxys Movie, WHICH I WILL BE WATCHING AND REPORTING ON! We will be doing movies as well. Yes, I do plan on getting very far off topic for the Destiny Deoxys movie and getting into my rant about LaRousse City yet again. It's a requirement for me, just as salmon must journey upstream. It's a deep, innate, inherent urge I feel, to go on this infodump any time it's relevant. Mark your calendars. Anyways.

Max pretends to be the gym leader and explains that the rules are 3 on 3, and Ash only has Pikachu. May then interrupts with her family in tow. Which doesn't make sense, as she seemed pretty insistent on avoiding having Ash know that her father was the gym leader???? Again, we get no explanation on this whatsoever in my memory. BUT my memory may very well be flawed, hence a rewatch, so we'll see, I guess.

Ash is introduced to May's family and argues with Max a bit more. We learn that Norman is the real gym leader. Torchic attacks Max because Max says he'd have chosen a Treecko.

I question the uneven layout of chairs here. Perfectly square table I think, five chairs, two on two sides and one on another? Interesting. Don't get it. I mean, I know it was to frame the shot but it's still an interesting choice on a practical level. But that's enough about chairs for right now.

Norman agrees to battling Ash in an unofficial gym battle. Team Rocket wants to steal Vigoroth. I won't get into the battles unless I have something meaningful to say about them, but we DO get a nice moment where Max says 'of COURSE Ash is a good trainer, he made it to the Silver Conference', which sets up another group dynamic I like in AG WHEN THEY ACTUALLY REMEMBER MAX EXISTS- Max is both Ash's worst critic and biggest admirer. I really like that Max looks up to Ash but would never say that to his face, I think it's just a really nice character detail. Max doesn't get a lot of those, and the ones he DOES get tends to lean into 'annoying younger brother', so it's nice to have something else there.

Norman keeps telling Vigoroth to use Scratch like four times. Enthralling battle. It is effective, though??? Jesus.

Explosion count is now at 7.

Caroline calls TR May's friends. She does the same later with Harley (And Drew iirc, though that one makes more sense, I guess). May makes this face- the faces in AG tend to be the same a lot of the time, so it's nice to get unique expressions when they do come around.

Team Rocket attacks, Ash electrocutes Max, TR steals torchic instead, Ash promises to get it back.

The Who's that Pokemon? segment plays.

It's Cleffa. 👍

So, Ash, May, and Max are looking for TR. We get a fun little moment- Max is looking for footprints meticulously and can't find any. May points out that that miiight be because they left in a balloon. I like this- it shows Max as someone detail oriented to the point of missing the bigger picture. Anyways, in the time it takes May, Ash, and Max to bicker (the bicker the better flashbacks), Caroline and Norman find the hot air balloon and Torchic, just sitting in a cage in what totally isn't a trap. Everyone but Ash runs towards it, they fall into a pitfall, which Ash actually warns them about. AG Ash is still ASH, but he does have the braincell sometimes.

They save torchic. May calls out for Torchic to use 'amber' instead of ember and we get this??? A quick bulbapedia search gives us this: "The original Japanese version of this episode contains an untranslatable pun. When May first commands Torchic to use Ember, she mistakenly says "kinoko", and an image of a mushroom pans across the screen. In Japanese, the words for mushroom (キノコ kinoko) and Ember (火の粉 hinoko) sound nearly identical. In the English dub, May instead says "amber", which was likely the only word that the dubbers could come up with that both sounds similar to Ember and makes the mushroom bit as relevant as possible, since the mushroom is arguably amber in color."

Interesting stuff! So, anyways. TR blasts off, explosion count is at 8 now. Max keeps calling Ash 'Alf'. Max says he should travel with too, and they all agree! Ash and May get a badge case. Max gets a pokenav!!!! I'm sure this will help prevent them from getting lost, right? ...Right?

They head off to Rustboro for the first gym.

Episode ends, which I do appreciate (the AG slog is hitting on the third episode... not promising). We're off to a start here, and it'll pick up a bit more soon, which is good.

End of Episode Metrics:

Explosion counter: 8

Height Ranking: Ash is noticeably taller again. Ash>> May this time.

[tammyfeabakker]

So I went to my new job yesterday. I'm not getting many hours thats ok though. It will give me more experience in merchandising... move on to better one more hours. The last 2 days I have been ignoring that guy.. Saturday Sunday and Monday and Tuesday. Him and her were visiting each other. She is what we call grandiose narcissist... yesterday I seen her pull in go down to the shop. I was waiting for the disappointment... he must of sent her home... and she jus had this look on her face. GNs are over confident... what bothers me when shit ain't going the way she wants. The dog seems to suffer. She's not abusive to the dog. The dog jus doesn't get played with let alone let out as much. I knew the disappointments were coming her way. But I'm not disappointed because I gave up... up down up down up down fuck that! I'm pretty sure he knows I wiped my hands of it thats why he cut her off again.. but then again he could of been busy. Turned her away GNs have to be the center of attention. Or they become miserable if they don't get their way. Also I noticed the shes a copy cat. I wear leggins spandex outfits. Outside all the time. Getting my D vitamins plus I'm jus out doorsy. She comes out in this spandex outfit. Starts doing yard work she only lasted half hour before she went in. Yesterday she sat outside and stared at me like I have something to do with him turning her away. I probably do. Because I'm ignoring him. After our last conversation I told him. I do not want anything to do with this bullshit. She probably got to go on the boat because I told him she was unhappy after I he stopped by to see me she ran down there after. GNs don't like to be challenged. I fucking figured it out. I always asked him. Why does she think I'm in a competition with her? Now I know him and I said she's a narcissist. But which one. Low self esteem my ass she has way to much. I'm not saying I look better I'm very different from her. What makes her think she can show up and think she can beat me out is beyond me. No ego just the truth. I'm a beautiful woman because I have a beautiful soul. I'm tall in shape I have style I exude sexuality. Its built in. Im funny laid back knowledgeable interesting I have magnetic personality. I'm a fucking character. GNs do they think the world should revolve around them.. he looks at me from head to toe. And his smile is from ear to ear when he sees me. He doesn't know how I feel. Because I never told him because of his emotional baggage. I'm not talking to him not because of her. Its the situation. I'm not afraid of her. Sometimes I wish she would do something so I don't have to fucking wave at her. Even though she's a GN I'm sympathic... and he is cut off because he ain't cutting the ties with her. And definitely ain't getting his cake and eating it. I'm done and I'm not giving her a reason to run down there. And I'm not being sneaky. Like he drives by and beeps when she ain't there if I don't acknowledge him for a while. Fuck that! But he does stop to chat when she's there. Maybe he likes the negative attention... I wipe my hands. Its me or her. Not getting it both ways. Pick your poison. Right now I'm amused by it. Like watching a soap.

[purplesurveys]

1638

Would you rather take a walk in the cold rain, or in the blistering heat? Oh, the rain for sure. I live under the sun all year long, so a walk in the rain would actually sound relaxing and refreshing for me. Name something of great importance to you. My happiness.

How do you typically go about resolving an argument? I legitimately rarely get into an argument these days. In fact, my only experience with disagreements must have only been with my ex.

What is your favorite card game? I don’t like card games.

If it were revealed that Religion in its entirety did not actually exist, would your outlook on life be any different? It'd be a big I-told-you-so moment, but for the most part I think I’d just be glad I can stop going to Sunday mass.

Which countries have you been to? / Which was your favorite? Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, China, South Korea, Japan’ I get to add Thailand to the list this June, too. Favorites would be Korea and Indonesia. Have you changed your mind about anything important this week? Ermmm not really. When was the last time that you were in a hospital? Around this time last year when I was visiting my mom post-myomectomy.

What kinds of hobbies are you into? I like being in museums; going to bazaars or exhibits about stuff I’m into like coffee and K-pop; learning history on my own; trying out different and new restaurants; collecting K-pop merch; and watching a select number of YouTube channels on a regular basis.

Describe to me what a typical Friday night for you entails. Very quiet and largely uneventful. I’m typically beat up and burned down by the time Friday rolls around, so as attractive as partying can sometimes sound I have no problem spending the evening at home and under the stars.

If you had the chance to slip through a portal, despite being aware of any of effects and/or consequences, would you do it? Well if the said effects or consequences are stuff I can live through unscathed, then yeah, I would.

Do you trust your gut instinct? Yep.

How often do you suffer from panic/anxiety attacks? It’s very rare but I did go through one around two to three weeks ago. As a child, were you satisfied with your home life? No. As a child, I could tell the circumstances were shit.

How many alcoholic beverages do you consume per month on average? Less than five.

If you could do ANYTHING for a living, what would you do? A travel and food writer. Writing is my biggest passion and my love for it hasn’t diminished even though I have had to write a million things I don’t care about in the name of work – it’d sound like such a dream come true if I do get to write about things I enjoy the most.

Which color tends to appear most in your wardrobe? Black, white, olive green, beige.

What did you do for your last birthday? I’m so tired of saying the same thing for this lol but I just filed a day off and spent time with my family, then that weekend my friends and I set off to Zambales to enjoy the sea. Then I sprained my ankle and had all the kids around look at me weird, lol.

What was your opinion about 2012, and the “end of days?” It was so funny and I didn’t believe in it at all. The best result from it was all the pop songs that came out singing about ‘partying until the end of the world.’

Are you interested in anyone at the moment? What are some things that make that person so special? I am not and don’t think I’ll ever be emotionally ready for a relationship again. I’m happier by myself. Name five things that you like about yourself. I like how I can be good at writing; the way I’d bend over backwards for my friends; I don’t quit easily; I’m good with dogs; and the way I can be resilient.

Name one thing that you would like to change about yourself. Not to take every single mistake too hard and too personally. I always feel like I’m on the verge of being fired because of my fear of fucking up.

Which parent was more strict when you were growing up? My mom. Dad has always been good cop. What would your last meal consist of if you could choose it? The biggest platter of sushi and sashimi ever. What are some things that initially attract you to the preferred sex? Personality. I like when people don’t give much about themselves away; makes me want to reach out more and pick their brain a bit.

What was the last thing that you did that made you feel accomplished? Survived the busy buildup for a campaign that’s finally launched. Tell me something about your best friend. She took up architecture and is interning to prepare for the architectural board exam. She’s brilliant at drawing and anything that has to do with math. Were you bullied as a child, or did you bully others? I was bullied first but I also took to teasing others eventually, probably because of the anger from the said bullying I had to endure previously.

What is one of your guilty pleasures? Hm. I don’t really feel guilty about things I like anymore haha.

When do you find yourself feeling your best? Whenever I’m out and about with my closest friends.

[nagia-pronounced-neijia]

WIP WEDNESDAY

tagged by @ejunkiet

Warnings: Catholicism, somebody being extremely sarcastic about the holiest of the sacraments; if those things trigger or upset you, scroll on by.

So, the thing is, it wasn't supposed to go like this.  He gets about four seconds of, "oh shit" when he puts his foot down inside what was apparently a circle of something.

A whole lot of things seem to happen in those four seconds.  He recognizes the circle -- formed in salt!  He doesn't know much about magic, but he knows you can't write spells in salt! -- and looks up at the witch chief.  She looks over-fucking-joyed, and expectant, and he can't watch that, so he looks to Alucard and Sypha.

Sypha reaches for him, fingers splayed and arms out like she's trying to cast.  He sees the determination locking down her jaw, thinning her mouth, and the wide edge of real fear that makes the corners of her eyes smooth out.

Alucard reaches too, and he's fast.  He blurs red around the edges; Trevor almost doesn't see him coming.

Their fingertips touch.  Sypha screams something, ragged and desperate and horrible --

His hand slips through Alucard's, somehow translucent, like a silk screen or a chemise.  Like a ghost.

Alucard's eyes go so wide, the red burning away inside them out of what's probably rage.

The world falls away.

He wakes with a bony elbow prodding him in the ribs.  He jabs back reflexively without opening his eyes, muttering, "Fuck!" as he does.

His voice sounds weird. 

Those are the two stupid, stupid things he first notices: some arsehole's bony elbow and that his voice sounds higher pitched than it should.

He opens his eyes to find a pew in front of his face.  An actual church pew, complete with the kneeler and the carved cross cut-outs and everything.   Hell, his knees are on the kneeler, how's that for hopelessly wrong?

He looks around out of the corners of his eyes.  He hasn't been in a church in thirteen years, but he remembers how shitty people get about other people not paying attention.  It just looks like a normal congregation; everyone in what's probably their best and the women all have their hair covered.  Their eyes are all on the priest ahead of the chancel.  He looks and sounds and moves like every other parish priest Trevor has seen.

At the front, the priest calls, "Oremus," in that rhythm they have, and apparently Trevor is still a Christian in deed, if not in heart, because he rises smoothly, automatically, with all the rest.

This church looks familiar, he thinks as he rises.  There's the transept with the little crack in its window.  The chancel is a little more in shadow than it ought to be; it takes the shine off the altar, which is arranged simply.

Something is fucked.  He knows something is just in a new land of wrong and upside-down.  He just can't tell what it is, besides his presence.

The priest chants in Latin.  Trevor fights not to roll his eyes.  Yes, yes, he wants to say.   Praise be to God for the Eucharist.  What would we do if we didn't literally eat and drink our Savior?  Praise him, praise him, forever and ever.

Everyone around him repeats after the priest.  It's all such garbage and he's still trying to figure out how the hell he got from the salt circle to a church, and how he's not on fire for being in said church. 

The person next to him jabs him again with their bony-ass elbow.  Trevor jabs back, again, muttering unkind things about their parentage.  The next jab is harder, and shortly after that there's a familiar cuff to the back of his head.

He almost starts looking around more, but fourteen years of getting cuffed for looking any way but forward are very fresh in his mind.  Best not to draw any more attention to himself.

With no better options, he recites with everybody else.  His voice still sounds wrong in his head, and it cracks and feels uncomfortable when he tries to speak lower.

After the Postcommunion, they all kneel again, then rise.

"Benedicamus Domino," the priest sings.

They all chant back, "Deo gratias," and the general shuffling toward the exit begins.

And now that Trevor can actually look around without getting smacked, he's starting to see precisely why everything seems so familiar.  He knows this nave.  Knows this church.  They'd come here his whole life.

And, filing away toward the narthex, he sees four familiar dresses, four familiar white veils, made of fine linen from Targovişte.  They move with the smooth, graceful glide over the rough stone floors that he'd thought he'd never see again.

His sisters.

It hits him like an actual sucker punch, like somebody slamming a chair into him in a bar fight.  His stomach clenches up like a fist.  He makes some sort of horrible choking noise as all the breath in his lungs decides to leave.  He wheezes in another breath, feels it whistling down a throat that doesn't want to open. 

And ahead of them, his mother shines in the doorway, outlined and turned into a smudge by the early afternoon sunlight.

Ahead of her, Father turns.  He makes an impatient gesture, calling Trevor's name.

His whole body feels numb.  He goes anyway.  Now that he's doing something more complicated than standing and kneeling, he can't help noticing his balance is off.  Like he's not just shorter but slimmer, lighter.

Like, for instance, he's fourteen or so.

This can't be happening.  Salt doesn't work magic.  People don't step into salt circles and find themselves in fucking consecrated churches from thirteen years ago.

Near Father, Luminița gives him a smile from under her hood.

Trevor smiles back.  Even if this isn't happening, even if it's some cruel dream, she's his closest sister.

They walk home from church in a thick knot, exactly the way he remembers.  The way he's longed for.

It's Sara, his second-closest, who laces her arm in his and leans in.  The hem of her cap has frayed a little; it needs re-sewn.

Ha.  Like he can talk.  He only launders his clothes regularly because otherwise Sypha and Alucard probably wouldn't speak to him.  And sure, he can darn his own socks, but that doesn't mean he actually does any mending when it needs done.

"You seemed distracted during Mass today," she says, and her voice is the same mixture of high pitch and dry delivery that makes everything short of a threat sound kind of funny.

It's not real.  Can't be happening.  Not.  Real.  Just a fucking vicious, painful dream a witch came up with.  Somewhere above him, Sypha and Alucard are dealing with a small coven and trying to wake him up.

Knowing all that doesn't stop the warmth in his chest, that huge bubble of impossible fondness that always accompanies seeing his most precious people after a long absence.

"Just thinking about things."

It's Luminița who asks, "What kinds of things?"

"Just things."  One good point of being probably four-and-ten again: he can get away with that.

Both his sisters laugh at him.

The walk home is long and surprisingly warm.  He thinks it must be Lent, and that means early spring.  He would have expected grayer skies, the last few flurries of snow, but instead it's all an expanse of blue.  The sun pours down on his head, gradually warming him.

They reach the great gate by late afternoon.  A nod from Father, and Mother takes her keyring from her belt and fits key to lock.  There's a resounding click and then they're swinging it open.  Trevor, as the last one through, pulls the gate shut, listening for the sound of the mechanism.

He still has a hard time believing any of this is real.

He stares up at the stout walls, of good oak and better stone, at the windows with real leaded glass, at the pennant of the Belmont crest hanging from one of the windows.  A hunting party must be away; they only display that when someone's left the house on a hunt.

This all feels… It's completely crazy, but at the same time, it feels right.  Accurate, maybe: it feels like he's walking, all too aware, through a Lenten Sunday that really happened to him.

Father and his sisters go directly into the house.  Except for Luminița and Sara, none of them has ever had much patience for him when he's being slow.

It's Mother who waits on the front step.  She reaches out to catch his face in between her palms.  They're softer than his own, than Father's, but they're still callused and chapped, just in different places.

"You've been out of sorts," she says, sweeping her thumbs over his cheekbones before resting the back of her hand against his forehead.

He doesn't protest the touch.  Maybe he would have, at fourteen, but he hasn't been anywhere near his mother in thirteen years.  Instead he allows it, unwilling even to close his eyes if that means losing sight of her.

"I'm fine.  Just thinking."

His mother hums.  "If it's about Old Marta… Well, you're kind, Trevor, but there was nothing we could have done for her."

Old Marta?  He thinks back, trying to remember.  He has the vaguest, dimmest memory of an aging woman with apple cheeks who always smelled of onion.  She sold cheese, maybe?

His mother mistakes his confusion for something else.  She does the thing where she squeezes his face in her hand.  Squeeze isn't the right word -- but she cups his cheek and grips, and instead of threatening, it's comforting.

How had he forgotten that she did things like that?  Does things like this?

"It's not the fire or the heat.  It's the smoke.  It's very quick -- minutes, at most.  Almost as good a death as a beheading, and then they're made pure and good again.  She didn't suffer."

The sheer fucking irony of those words coming from the mouth of this woman.  This woman, who didn't die of fire or heat, but of being trapped in a smoky little room, who died coughing, is telling him that burned witches don't suffer?

He squints at her, looking not with the eye of a self-absorbed youth, but of a man.  The last thirteen years taught him to read a room, to read a face, to listen to what people weren't saying.

That's why he sees it: the faint tremor at the corner of her mouth, the flickering of her eyelids.

She's lying.  She's lying to protect a boy who's always been a little too soft to be a Belmont.

And that's when the memory finally settles in place, and he remembers Old Marta.  Burned as a witch in the town square in Sighișoara, and they hadn't been able to do anything about it.  It had been uniquely galling to the whole family.  Even Grandfather Rafael, who always focused more on killing what was wicked than on protecting his countrymen, had hated everything about it.

Of course, less than a year later, they'd all been accused of black magic, excommunicated, and burned alive.  Fuck.

[katsukisbeatingheart]

capella and rigel

au where you don’t see color until you meet your soulmate. they come to you one at a time the longer you’re together.

word count: 2,530

a.n.: you guys are BREAKING MY HEART you’ve been so sweet and receptive with the last one ( sing to me ) im such a mess ( ´༎ຶv༎ຶ`) i SEE YOU i WILL kiss you i am not playing. anyway!! im posting these soulmate works in an order backwards from which i started - which is funny, because that way it goes from least angstish to most. 

here are the others!

Shinso

Sero

Bakugou

ao3

When the blue exploded, you weren’t ready for your world to change with a rushing suddenness. You were blindsided with the odd experience of a first time that felt like memory.

First off, you didn’t know how you knew blue would be it, but you did.

When someone told you that’s what color that sweater you liked to wear all the time was, you just knew. When someone told you that’s what color some of your favorite fruits were, you just knew. When someone told you that’s what color the sky was, you just knew.

When someone told you that’s what color the ocean was—because it reflected the sky—you cried because you just knew.

There was something revelatory of such a relationship—the rhapsodic truth that two forces of nature could be reflections of the other, even with completely opposing standpoints.

In your greyscale vacuum, you were none the wiser to a life that could promise that yet. From a young age, you hoped and prayed for that day to come, until it became a hapless strain of static that took a backseat to growing up.

In general, you hadn’t known what to expect; you imagined that cats were probably the color of sprinkles on ice cream, trees were balloons floating in the air, and pavements were the color of spring. When you looked up to the night, you thought that stars might be like lighting a candle. You thought that might mean yellow.

And even when it was so dark, you hoped the sky would still be blue.

It tore through every crevice of your vision, crowding your sight and singeing your senses.

Blue wasn’t supposed to come to you in a maelstrom on a previously peaceful Sunday morning. It wasn’t supposed to burn through the pages of one of your favorite books, or weld your utensils together.

It was supposed to bump into you on a tramline station, at a park, in a crowd, and then apologise quickly; it was supposed to be in widening eyes and stuttering breaths that gave you a name you’d knew like an old friend you had yet to meet.

It wasn’t supposed to be in so much pain.

It wasn’t supposed to cause any of it, either.

You’re on your back, starry eyed and afraid all at once, suffering the memory of your first time seeing color. It’s burning you, you realize, and the tears evaporate before they touch skin.

Blue fire is attention grabbing—it’s blue, you know it is—and watching it move like you imagined blue waves would was mesmerizing. It soaked the ground with scorch marks, scarring bedlam and terror into the earth.

Your eyes blown wide catch every moment, frozen in blue.

Though, as more of the hue crops up in all different directions, your eyes are suddenly the only part of you that can’t sit still. If the fire does anything else better than burn, it’s cast light—as it throws your vision farther than usual.

You don’t miss a single detail.

The sea of people around you scatter in fear— there’s chaos but you just can’t move—and you’re anchored to the ground like roots of a tree that didn’t get to choose its growing place. You’re trapped somewhere off centre in a spiraling vortex of entropy simultaneously inhaling and granting your newfound freedom.

Across the street in spots on a mailbox, the smallest pieces detailed the metal in cool colored rivets; in the scorching bed along the stone wall cafe lay crisped, blue calla lilies; the delicate hue accented in little flora shaded your spilled and shattered tea glass.

With the proximity of unimaginable heat, noise, and overall calamity shuffling so quickly around you, you felt encased in time. An hourglass tipped in your throat and the scalding sands ran through your veins. The inferno raged on until you noticed your place in it. It spun in a tempest around you and everything melted away.

Your vision shifts and you find the catalyst to be a tall, dark, and lanky shadow of a man. He contrasted the unyielding light—that he was producing, you agnised—to an almost sardonic degree. He held his hands in his pockets and shoulders in a slouch that said all of this was of no consequence, concern, or effort to him. He looked bored.

That is, until he saw you, too.

Freezing blue eyes glistened back at you in a cacophony of emotions.

There’s comprehension, apprehension, indignation—you try to settle on one, though absolutely fruitless with a whirlpool of your own at your feet.

You tried to speak your disbelief, a sense of joy, a simple admission to life, but your voice died on your tongue. The fumes coiled at your throat, still you held your ground. It was all you could do in your dormancy, and it was all you were going to do on the precipice of eruption.

It was like watching someone conduct a hurricane, what he did next.

His hands hummed an unknown melody to the flames, and you watched and waited and listened to the music that poured out if him—quickly becoming a little more afraid at the prospect of becoming an unwittingly unwilling participant from the audience.

However, the coiling and dissipation of the blue told you that this was the grand finale, and in a voiceless and motionless dance, he swayed out of sight under the haze of blue hellfire—so searing it was cold to the touch.

•.•.•.

When the heroes arrived, the police whisked you away to take your statement and check for injuries. It was like talking—and mostly listening—through a thick pane of glass, though. You said very little, and perceived even less.

What were you going to do? Include in your witness report that the perpetrator was your soulmate? That fact alone changed everything, and you knew that if you were to speak up about it now, the authorities would take you in. You weren’t about to be used as an asset when you had barely any time to process the truth yourself.

Everything was running smoothly, until the heroes came around to check on the injured. An expressionless man with two-toned hair and a nasty scar over his eye stepped before you, an ‘Are you alright?’ soft on his lips, contrasting the sternness in his features.

You took one look at the color of his left eye and fainted against the ambulance doors.

•.•.•.

Waking in a sweating bundle on your bedcovers was not a good way to end the day. It skewed your sense of reality, and you had to wrestle away the idea that the whole thing might have been a dream. The headache didn’t help, but it was proof you know what you saw. And what you were currently seeing.

A lot of everything else was still in greyscale, but your eyes weren’t lying to you as you took in your room. Blue comic books, pens, decals, posters, pictures; the laundry overflowed your basket, spilling in a pile of blue onto your carpet.

Blue eyes in the corner of your room.

“What did you see?” you whispered. He’s there like the shade of gossamer window curtains, a figureless concept of existence, and yet you speak knowing he’s suddenly the most solid thing there.

“You.”

You inhaled sharply, barely a pinprick to the weight in the room.

“You know that’s not what I mean. I’m not a color.”

“You were the brightest thing there. Might as well have been.”

“Impossible,” you laughed, waving your hand absently to dismiss your incredulity. “You set everything on fire.”

“Makes no difference,” he affirmed in a tone that sounded rich, drawled, and deep like molasses and a smoky room. There was silence as his voice drizzled along your skin, a safe distance in the uncertainty. It doesn’t break, even when you speak the opposite of what you should be uncertain about.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Yet here I am.”

There’s a flutter by your open window, and you unfold yourself from your stagnant place on your bed. Without argument, you wisp to its side, facing the world like it was unchanged.

His presence is permeable next to you, yet you were sure you had never felt anything as real.

Everything and nothing was the same.

“What do you see?”

“Still you.”

You glance to the side and see an almost facetious simper gliding across his features, even though you knew he was probably being anything but flippant.

“Dabi.”

He shifted almost imperceptibly, coiling with the dark to a time and space closer. He smelled like amber pine and sawdust, collecting evening dew.

“So you do know who I am.”

You picked at the peeling paint along the sill. It was still white.

“I follow the news. I’ve seen your face stuck to faded alley posters.”

“Now what would you be doing in alleyways?” He chuckled lowly through thinly veiled, amused bewilderment.

So he didn’t know who you were.

Just as well, it wasn’t like you lived a life of any consequence.

Truth was, you were simply a curious person with an awkward and clumsy sense of direction—finding yourself on adventures you could easily get yourself out of, only with a little time, effort, and backtracking. Even though you’d much rather see it through to the end, no matter how dark, twisted, or ugly.

The truth wasn’t meant to be pretty.

But he didn’t need to know that.

And if this were to keep up anyway, he’d find out soon enough.

You peered at him through your eyelashes and his shape almost disappeared. Instead, you leaned forward into the open world, trying to catch life as it moved below you. Your eyes spotted grass and trees, and you gasped before you could stop yourself.

“They’re green.”

“So I’ve been told.”

You turned your head to face him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

“I’ve never seen green before.”

He’s quiet as he stares at you. He had leaned against the wall beside you, hip and head propped like he wouldn’t rather be looking anywhere else. You stare back softly, still not used to the visceral experience in eye contact.

“What do you see?” he asks like holding glass. You’re tempted to keep it to yourself for at least a day longer—safeguard the truth like you were the only one in the world who could see colors. An innocent secret you’d never have to share with anybody.

And yet here was a thread presented to you by the universe, asking to be pulled from the tangle.

You looked at his frayed edges and twisted knots, feeling your own pull tighten like a lifeline.

“Blue,” you breathe. He’s beside you now, angled to the open window, eyes still burning answers and questions—so many questions—across your very surface.

You both stretch out, casting your eyes up to the night sky, in your own world like he wasn’t who he was and you weren’t who you were. Collected in a jar of your own making, you spill your breath across the open air, and he’s there with you like a pooling splash of ink you don’t want out. Oh, the memories you could write with him.

“So these are the stars, huh?” his tone hasn’t lifted from that tedium, but he talks like he’s standing among them.

Tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t tell whether from happiness or nostalgia or disappointment or confusion or another nameless thing—you only knew that you were looking at the stars. You were looking at the night sky and suddenly seeing the stars, and—

“Some of them are blue.”

Dabi traces the bottom hemline of your sweater with his thumb, breathing clearer air than he had in a long, long time.

“There’s yellow up there, too.”

The tears spill down your cheeks, but his hand is there to catch them with cracked fingertips.

“You know,” you begin with a small sniffle, “I don’t remember the night being this… luminous.” His face splits in to a grin.

“That’s your fault.”

You roll your eyes, peeling back to lightly shove against his arm. You had barely touched him, but his heart beats as though he’d been caught in an earthquake. He’s unsteady, and grows more and more terrified by the second of the anchor in your eyes. He’s not strong enough to try and move it.

You watched him pull back, startled by the alertness in his movements. He sweeps his legs up and over the side, perched on the windowsill as though he made to jump through it.

“You’re leaving?”

“I thought you were the one who said I shouldn’t be here,” he grinned, though not without that bitter glint in his already harshly blue eyes. Your lip finds its place pulled between your teeth.

“I think there are still some things I want to see.” You glance to the side, searching for words in the spots of color blooming along the edges of your world. “With you.”

Dabi bridges small gaps between you two—some rickety and many burnt, but still there—leaving space for you to jump ship. His fingers brush warm trails across the skin of your face again, like forfeiting a whittling candelabrum to the shaking hands of a blind man.

You suppose someone like him defies all laws, even the ones of the natural world as he ghosts down the siding of the building, just another wandering shade looking for its way back.

In a day of unforseens, you try and convince yourself that it was the stars that got to you. It’s easier to place blame on things you can’t control, and part of you feels liberated knowing this was just not one of those things you were meant to expect. You let your hopes and predictions solidify the labyrinthian ground you walk on.

But as you lean through the window, you call out to him and realize you’re swallowing your assumptions like antifreeze.

“Wait!”

His head turns to the side to catch you pouring out of your mundane and into his living underworld.

“You have to come back.” The yellow on your sweater burns into your irises, and he has never been more wary of his place in the universe. Especially when it glows back at him through the eyes of a future he didn’t know he even had.

“I want to know what sunrises look like.”

The tempest in him glares up at the beacon your window—no—you provide and he feels a weird, opposing sense of mitigation and incertitude. A ubiquitous tangibility his first instinct declares a malignant impediment.

Still, he can’t help but feel as though a tide were in the process of crashing his lifeboat—a stray piece of driftwood—on to obscure shores.

That can’t be all that much of a bad thing, he considers.

With a small, barely there and imperceptibly honest smile, he places a two fingered tap to the crown of his forehead—throwing an ignition to the wind in a quiet promise.

The light fades, and you clutch the matchstick, watching the blue disappear with him into the dark of night.

[maade-of-stardust]

Hey Val!!! Its frisay! Its friday!! *feeling excited*

It is Friday, indeed! And since the chapter isn’t ready, yet (I think it will come out on Sunday), here is a snippet for you! 

Sander had decided to leave as soon as Robbe was surrounded by his friends. Surely, the boy would have been safer among them, and they knew him well enough to know what to do in case he needed anything. Thus, Sander’s presence was no longer requested. He had carried out his task and could go back to his place. But after all, he told himself, it was better that way. He was feeling deeply sad after hearing what had happened to Robbe's mom, and he needed time alone to process the news. As he reached his room, Sander remembered that he had to talk to Noor. Though his first instinct was to postpone again, he thought he might as well face another issue that same evening, so he backed off and went to knock on the girl's door.

The conversation was honest, although, for obvious reasons he chose not to go into details, but he told her about his past with Robbe, their years apart, and the way he was feeling since he started to work for the band. Noor was very understanding and they decided to stay friends, without benefits this time. They had smoked a cigarette together and after that, Sander finally went back to his room.

He took a hot shower, hoping it would wash away all the tiredness, sadness, and desire to disappear he was feeling in his body. It seemed like that day had lasted two months. Starting with the fight the evening before, the sleepless night, the trip with Lucas and Jens, and then the insane run in the park to find Robbe. It had been an eventful 24 hours.

The worst part, though, was probably realizing that everything he had relied on for the past four years was just a big, fat, pile of bullshits, he told to be at peace with himself. He hadn't saved Robbe from a life of pain, he hadn't freed him from carrying Sander's burden. He had simply turned his back on Robbe. Sander had left him alone to face all the sufferings in his life.

Now, he didn't even know how he could explain to the other, the reason behind his gesture, without being laughed at. His illness seemed nothing compared to what Robbe had to go through completely alone.

Probably the best thing to do was to simply make amends, without hoping for forgiveness. In light of the facts, his explanation had become ridiculous, useless, but he owed it to Robbe. He wanted to finally be honest.

Sander wore a lilac hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants and went to bed with his computer on his lap, editing the photos he had taken in the previous days. It was something that helped him stay present, having to concentrate kept his mind from wandering.

It was almost midnight when he heard a knock on his room door, and for a few seconds, he was tempted not to open it, pretending to be asleep, but in the end, curiosity prevailed.

He moved the computer from his legs, leaving it on the bed, and went to the door, finding himself face to face with Robbe.

Sander felt his heart skip a beat. The boy had his hair down over his shoulders, and he was wearing a sage-colored sweatshirt and pants. His face was pale, tired, with dark circles under his doe eyes, but they were still beautiful.

"Robbe?" He exclaimed, sounding more surprised than he intended.

"Stop leaving me behind without a fucking word, okay?" He said, with a stern face, looking the other into his eyes, but then gave him a small smile.

Sander stepped aside, inviting him in, and closed the door. He didn't know why he was letting him in his room, but somehow, that night, after what had happened, he didn’t want to let Robbe go again. He needed his presence there.

"Sorry, I thought there were already too many people around."

"Yeah, but I wanted them to leave, not you."

Oh.

Robbe stood in front of him, biting his lower lip. He was so different from anything Sander had seen in the previous weeks, even different from what he'd seen in the car a few hours before, and it was confusing. Sander wondered how many Robbes were still to be discovered. But this version made him feel at ease. There was something genuine and familiar in him.

"Can I stay here with you tonight?" He asked, blinking his long lashes, pausing for a few seconds to rephrase his request, reading the surprise on Sander's face. "I'm not talking about sex. We can have a pajama party, but like, for adults."

Sander frowned, "It sounds a lot like sex." he said, smiling.

"Come on." He pushed his lower lip out, as an incentive to make the other agree.

"Let's have this pajama party for adults, then." Sander conceded, running his fingers through the boy’s hair. He couldn’t explain it, but ever since they had been forced by circumstances to stay physically close in the car, it was like that invisible barrier, that was keeping them apart, had disappeared, and now every gesture was natural.

Robbe was playing with the lilac strings of Sander's hoodie, twisting it around his fingers. "But on one condition. We can’t talk about our past. Only about present and future."

"Deal." Sander nodded, turning away and walking back to bed, to resume what he was doing. He slipped under the covers and took his laptop again, pretending not to observe every slightest movement of the other, who meanwhile looked around, carefully studying all of Sander’s belongings scattered around the room.

"What are you doing?"

"Editing."

Robbe had nonchalantly approached the bed, trying to look at the screen. "Can I?" He asked, pointing his index finger at the bed where Sander was sitting.

"Yes, come here." He replied, lifting the covers. Robbe immediately snuggled up beside him. They remained silent, while Sander kept editing, trying not to smile too much, and Robbe watched him work. That closeness was amazing. It felt right and Sander wished to stay like that forever.

"I like this one so much. You made me look so good."

"Are you fishing for compliments? Aren't you tired of people telling you how beautiful you are?"

Sander looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and Robbe rolled his eyes, without trying to hide his smile.

"Do you like your job?"

"I do, most of the time. You?"

Robbe sighed, pausing for a long time before answering. "It doesn’t make me feel as happy as it used to, but it’s the only thing I’m good at."

"First of all, I hardly believe it." Sander closed his laptop, placing it on the bedside table, and turned to face the other, giving him his full attention, exactly as he would have done once, during their endless conversations. "Secondly, Robbe, you're just 20. Your life has not even started yet. You can go to college and study whatever you like if you want. I know you probably feel so much older, but you're not."

Robbe slid onto the bed, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. "I just wanna a happy, quiet life." He admitted. He didn't know what he would do without the band, the tour, and the concerts, but at the prospect of being happy, really happy, he could have given up his adrenaline addiction. "No strict schedule, no paparazzi, interviews, or people following me around everywhere."

Sander lay down on his side, supporting his head with one arm. "I bet you already made enough money to retire. You can do everything you want, seriously."

Robbe turned his face to look the other in his eyes. "Not everything." He whispered, shifting his gaze to Sander's lips. "I can't kiss you."

Sander smiled, drawing his face closer and closer. "Do it." He whispered when their lips were close enough to touch.

Robbe placed his hands on Sander's face and closed the distance that separated them, feeling as excited as when they had exchanged their first kiss. Both couldn’t stop smiling, and it was a very uncoordinated kiss at first, but then the feelings they felt for each other took over, reminding them that what they had wanted for so long, was happening.

It was sweet, familiar, healing. Their souls were quieter after that, and when they parted, they both had an incredulous smile on their faces.

"Now your boyfriend will get so mad."

"He's not my boyfriend, and what about Noor?"

"Noor's not my boyfriend either."

Robbe rolled his eyes for the thousandth time during that night, feeling the affection for the other grow a little more each time. "I know you probably think you're funny, but believe me, it's quite the opposite."

"Look at you, being so mean, and so proud of it!" Sander pulled the boy back, placing another kiss on his lips. "But seriously, there’s nothing between Noor and me. Besides, I’ll pretend you haven’t just admitted you asked around about me and her."

Robbe punched Sander's shoulder, snorting. "I saw you, idiot! You're not that subtle!"

"Ouch! So rude." He said while the other kissed him again to be forgiven.

They kept going like that, laughing, kissing, and talking until they collapsed tightly into each other's arms, lulled by an inner peace that both hadn't felt for a long time.

[curly-bangtan]

A Drop of Heaven IV: Unravelling

[Series Masterlist]

Pairing: ot7 x reader // this chapter: Yoongi x reader, Seokjin x reader

Series summary: Seven vampires have secretly been roaming the darks of your world for millennia. Each brother selects a Feed who becomes supernaturally bound to him, whose blood will be fed on until their inevitable mortal death. They have spent their eternity hunting for the exorbitant rarity that is angel blood - the most heavenly of food for vampires that fuel them with desire, lust and satiety. So what happens when they all find you, the first angel-blooded being they’ve encountered in two centuries?

Genre: vampire au, poly au, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (e2l)

Warnings in this chapter: mentions of blood drinking, depression and suicidal thoughts, slightly gruesome, probably a lot of confusion, plot heavy chapter

Word count: 11.1k

A/N: I’m not sure if it’s just me but I feel like my writing style for this series has kind of shifted, so apologies if you don’t like the change. Thank you for being so patient with this update, I know it took forever, but I hope it was worth the wait! ❤︎

[prelude, i, ii, iii, iv, v, vi, vii, epilogue]

❦

They say that humans are immensely adaptable creatures. In the face of a drastic change, when thrust into a foreign environment, we possess a biological plasticity that allows us to mould into our novelle surroundings, no matter how alien. All for the purpose of survival. Humans are resilient. Humans survive.

You have survived, and you keep on surviving.

A week has passed. Almost in a flash, yet also agonisingly slowly. But in your memory, all the feeding has merged into a blur. Every time a pair of fangs sink into you, you’ve come to switch off your mind completely. You don’t recall where your consciousness has travelled to, you just remember floating in a cold darkness. Stagnant. Void.

On Thursday, broken and hanging on by a thread, you were tossed to Hoseok. The flash of craze in his eyes, despite your gaping wounds that took longer to heal than it should have, even after drinking Yoongi’s blood, managed to instill a droplet of fear in you. But only just.

Because after Yoongi, you no longer know fear.

Still, Hoseok’s insanity is something you’ve never seen before, a wildness exacerbated by the centuries he has lived.

Hoseok looks at you like a brand new toy. When he touches you, you can feel the tremble of excitement beneath his skin. Sometimes, you wonder if he is the worst one of them all, even worse than Yoongi. Because you at least know what the others are thinking. With Hoseok, he speaks to you as if you’ve been acquainted for years, asks how you fare as if he doesn’t know of your suffering. He smiles at you like he means it, and you know he is genuinely happy to see you, but not for the reason you hope for.

“You seem sad…” He had said, staring at you intently as he brushes the sweat-dampened hair out of your face. “Yoongi hurt you?”

Your eyes were transfixed on one spot of the colourful wallpaper of his Feed Room. Your head barely nodded.

You didn’t see his mouth quirk up in amusement, but you could sense it. Hoseok was prodding you, like a zoo animal. Testing your temperament, seeing how broken you are. And you were too tired, too drained to put on a show like the circus monkey he wanted.

“No worries, Y/N, it won’t hurt with me, I promise.” The ghost of his lips traced your shoulder. “We will have so much fun together.” His long fingers prickle your thighs as he pulls you onto his lap. “Just relax and smile for me.”

It had hurt, at least very briefly before you could shut it out. Out of everyone, Hoseok has the least control. He never knows when to stop. Though he wasn’t bleeding you dry just yet, it visibly took him his entire mental strength to cease his drinking. And once he stopped, he began laughing maniacally.

“Sweet Satan, we’re in for a ride.” He kissed around the puncture wound at your collarbone where blood was weeping out of you. You didn’t move or make a sound.

The sire bond hadn’t surfaced at all. But it didn’t need to in order for you to ignore the pain; you’ve grown so accustomed to it by now that you hardly even blink, sire bond or no. You’re afraid of yourself, the lifeless husk you’re becoming.

The scariest aspect of Hoseok is perhaps how quickly he changes his mood after feeding. His ability to act as if he hadn’t just ripped into you, taking your around the house and telling you stories of his adventurous life while you eat, is uncanny. And when you fail to put on a smile for him, because how could you, his eyes would darken, jaw tighten.

“Isn’t that just hilarious? Can you believe I did that back then?” He would ask, and you’re not sure why your entertainment brings him validation.

But for self-preservation, you have learnt to giggle like you’re enjoying yourself and say cheerily, “I know right! That sounds wild!”

And Hoseok would nod madly, giddy from your approval, acting blind to your ingenuity as if he hadn’t forced the response he wanted out of you.

That was your Thursday.

.

Jimin was a salve, a soothing balm over your hidden wounds.

You no longer care whether his affection towards you is genuine. Beggars can’t be choosers, you’ll take any kindness where it is doled. It’s funny because, amidst suffering, amidst torture, you are able to resist the floods of tears that should be completely justified in your predicament. Yet as soon as someone shows the remotest care towards you, you feel the ocean pushing against your brick walls, threatening to rupture the dam.

It wretched your heart how tender Jimin was with you. You had almost broken down in his arms when he brushed over the skin where Yoongi and Hoseok had torn into. Your wounds are invisible. Vampire blood hides your cuts under fresh new skin, but doesn’t truly heal them. Yet Jimin had managed to sense your scars nonetheless.

He kissed them softly. You knew he wanted to kiss your mouth too, yet he didn’t. Is this what respect feels like?

Thus, you were completely willing when he fed on you. His preferred feeding spot is the inside of your thighs. When his cold breath arrived there, you could have sworn you felt something flutter in your core.

You had wanted him. You’re embarrassed to admit but you want him. Completely on your own accord, as the sire bond had also failed to lock in place with him too. You wondered if it was the damage Yoongi had done…

But then Saturday came, and the moment Taehyung’s fangs touched your flesh, you were swept away.

At first, it felt like drowning, as you struggled against the formidable waves that would not let you resurface. But then you calmed, a serenity took hold of you, and you began floating in the most soothing, clear blue water. The water healed you, almost, as you just drifted there on your back, watching the star-splatted night sky.

Taehyung swam up beside you, those sharp fangs of his never withdrawn, a wolfish yet reassuring smile, telling you it’s okay, everything will be okay, I can make you feel good.

And he did make you feel good.

The one thing you crave the most in this world is affection, you’ve come to learn. With Yoongi, you had wanted to feel something so badly, something other the numb wreckage of your mind you had trapped yourself in. Except he had made you feel worse, worthless, self-loathing just like him. With Hoseok, you were a broken doll, smile when expected to, laughing when required. You weren’t a person. With Jimin, you had been too grateful for his tenderness to function, unable to comprehend how, for once in the longest time, someone is treating you as if they care about you.

With Taehyung, you grew desperate to cling onto this intimacy.

It was like a drug, flooding your mind with peace and euphoria, drinking him in as much as he is drinking you. His kisses felt unhealthily good, and they tricked you into thinking that you’re worthy of someone like Taehyung, someone so beautiful, so intoxicating. He fucked you like he was making love to you, but also not. It came as waves - his sweetness, then his ferality.

You couldn’t get enough of it. You know it’s no good to feel so attached, when he probably sees you as no more than an object, his meal, but you couldn’t help it. You were just so desperate for that feeling of being desired.

He promised to make you feel good, make you forget, and that he did.

You hadn’t known what to expect from Jungkook. As you sat, waiting, on the bed of his Feed Room on Sunday, you pondered Jin’s words of his past.

He was a bright star once, before this curse. And even after, he had fed on humans once. The curiosity gnawed at your brain, pleading to find out what had happened.

Jungkook never showed up.

And so you slept the day and night away, replenishing your health with soup that Seokjin delivered, until you woke up and the cycle continued once more.

.

You watch the round dewdrop roll off the viridescent green leaf, and splatter onto the cold white tile. The greenhouse has soon become one of your favourite places to pass time. The walls of that manor are suffocating.

The faint sound of a piano whispers into your ears. You shut your eyes, appreciating the beauty of the pieces as it plays flawlessly. You wonder who is pouring out their emotions to the ebony and ivory sisters.

The glass of the greenhouse is fogged by the dawn dew, shielding you from the world outside and those who wish to take from you. Almost smiling, you pace around the kingdom of plants, enjoying the tranquility. Today is Thursday; Hoseok allows you to do as you please after he feeds on you; though it could be of his genuine good intent, you suspect it’s to instill you with a false sense of freedom. Let the dog out of its cage, let her roam their land, so the bitch never seeks to leave the house.

The thought of escaping had crossed your mind a profusion of occurrences the past week. Though, at this very moment, you don’t think there is much purpose in leaving anymore. Here, you at least are provided food and shelter, and maybe one or two friends whose friendship comes with a price. It’s not living in here, you’re merely surviving. But you’re surviving nonetheless. Compared to out there, where you’d be left to fend for yourself, constantly fleeing from seven vampires who you’re eternally bonded to.

You’ve thought about killing yourself too. A coward’s way out, but hey, you’d rather be a coward than a blood bag for the rest of your life. But when you had snuck into the kitchen last night after Yoongi’s heartless torment and raised a knife to your chest, an invisible force had pushed against your arms, freezing them in place and preventing them from taking action.

The sireship is so cruel. It humanises the vampires who captured you, makes you empathise with them, and forbids you from harming yourself.

On deeper thought, you wouldn’t have been able to kill yourself that way anyway. The moment your blood is spilled, in a house full of vampires, at least one of them is bound to smell it right away. They would have healed you before the pain could kick in - their way of sweeping everything under the rug nowadays - and you would’ve been back to the start. Except worse, as they would then know of your intention.

You crouch down beside a rose bush, petting its velvet white petals between your fingers. Flowers are beautiful yet fickles things, but roses have thorns. They lure people in with their beauty, but if anyone tries to pluck them off and keep one for themselves, they get cut. Your fingers travel down its stem to where a thorn is staring enticingly back at you.

You push the pad of your finger into its prick, hard. You don’t feel a thing. Not even as a bead of crimson oozes from the cut. It’s chilling.

Then you sense a presence behind you. When you turn, your eyes meet with those of Namjoon. Watering pot in one hand, he watches you, brows furrowed at your previous act.

“What are you doing?” There’s a hesitancy in his voice, almost as if he doesn’t recognise you.

“Admiring the roses.”

You no longer speak to Namjoon in that defying tone of yours. He was right, there’s no use in challenging him, trying to topple his superiority complex. It only took a week to tame you into a docile creature. You’re ashamed.

“No, I mean why did you purposely touch the thorns like that?” Still frowning, he stomps over, water in his gardening can sloshing about. As he sinks down beside you, his air of intimidation infiltrates your peaceful bubble.

“I… I don’t know, I just wanted to know what it feels like.” You mumble. Setting the pot aside, Namjoon snatches your finger and brings it close to his face for examination.

“Well, it was obviously going to cut you.” He hisses. When his nostrils flare, you know the scent of your blood is vastly tempting him.

“I know.” You pull your finger away, not that you don’t trust his self control, but because his touch was beginning to scald. The bond was trying to take hold of you despite it not being the day where you belong to him, and you hate how drawn you are to him because of it.

Spinning away, you stand and begin pacing towards the door. Your moment of peace has been disturbed, there’s no point in staying here anymore. But then you hear him call after you, “W-Wait.” The vulnerable expression that greets you when you look back takes you by surprise. “Um… You spend an awful lot of time in here nowadays… How come?”

You hadn’t been aware that Namjoon notices your growing presence in the greenhouse, not since you have never come across him here before. “I like it in here, I feel safe. Why, am I not allowed?” Your question lacks the challenging impudence it should have, more like a young girl asking her father for permission. You’re disappointed in yourself at how quickly you’ve deflated, even at the obnoxious Namjoon. Yet, you’ve lost your drive at standing your ground, you’ve got no fight left.

“N-No!” He is quick to dispute, standing up from his crouch as well. “I just meant… Nevermind.” His voice trails weakly to a tense silence. You watch his eyes flicker up at yours rather nervously, trying to decipher his intention. Then he speaks again, “I’ve just seen you here quite a few times… I enjoy being here myself; I find tending to my plants right before the sun rises fully a therapeutic pastime.”

His admission strikes you. You would never imagine a man as demanding, efficient and severe as Namjoon to enjoy a hobby as mundane as gardening. You’re not sure what to make of it to be honest, nor can you understand why he’s speaking to you so… conversationally. Is this his attempt at making peace with you?

“Well, you’ve tended to them very well, they’re beautiful. I enjoy being here too.” You guess you should accept his decency. He had been rather distant on Monday, leaving you to your own devices, only feeding on you once and hardly speaking a word. His contrasting moods are confusing.

Namjoon’s lips purse, brows raise ever so slightly, as if surprised by your kind response. His eyes flicker to your finger again. The tiny cut has yet to dry, fresh blood still leaking from the open wound despite its miniscule size. You should probably have some food; your body is frail, especially after Yoongi yesterday.

“I’m going to leave you to it, sir.” You nod courteously, but freeze as the name you address him as slips out of you. No, it was drawn out of you from the bond. It doesn’t take a second for heat to rush to your face in embarrassment. Namjoon noticeably stiffens. Gulps.

The coil within you is starting to wind. It tightens around your chest like thorned vines, piercing into your heart the more you try to wriggle free.

You know he feels it too.

But before he can take a step towards you, as you sense he intends to, you’re turning around and speeding out of the greenhouse. And it’s not until you’re within the confines of Hoseok’s Feed Room that you feel the liberty to breathe again, Namjoon’s sire bond reluctantly waning into the background.

.

You could tell something was off about Hoseok straight away when he entered the room. There were multiple telltale signs.

One: He was stumbling over his feet, tripping over to the bed in a drunken manner as he navigated the room. His words were slurred, hardly coherent sentences at all. His wine red hair in disarray.

Two: He smelled noticeably different. Though you’ve not spent more than two days as his feed, Hoseok has a clear distinct smell, most notable from the other vampires. He smells clean, sweet even; it’s the one thing you can’t help but indulge in about him. Yet even to your human nose, he had a weird, doggish musk to him as he approached you.

Three: From his rogue smile dribbled drying blood. And no, it wasn’t a mere droplet of crimson, he was drenched in blood, chin to toes. Despite the gore you’ve witnessed, it was still a chilling sight.

And four: Though his eyes were half shut, you briefly saw the way they flashed beneath his lids. Only half conscious, the other half gone and crazed, though full of purpose - purpose to get to you.

You catch him in open arms as he falls onto you, the mattress dipping at the sudden crash of his weight. “Hoseok, what happened?” Your voice harbours more concern than you would like to show, and you don’t know why you care at all.

His face presses against the crook of your neck, his lips stretching into a smile at your presence, right over your pulse. His hands wander to your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You recoil from his forwardness, but with nowhere to back away to except further into the bed. You try to ignore how pleasant the tip of his nose feels as it rubs against your skin.

“Missed you…” Hoseok mumbles, still grinning widely, mouth travelling to your jaw where his warm breath tickles. His breath should be cold; the heat tells you that the feeding of whoever’s blood this was recent.

You can’t help but feel flustered at his sudden touchiness. Of all vampires here, save for Jungkook, you would say you’ve been the least… intimate with Hoseok. It has never been your dynamic. It was always him flinging you around like a puppy shredding its new stuffed toy then chewing on the spilled cotton. So this is… new.

“Why are you acting like this?” You ask again, trying to pry his arms off your torso but to no avail.

“Sweetness…” He mutters unintelligibly, and you shudder as his teeth grazes your ear, an involuntarily sensual tingle following.

“H-Hoseok…” Your breath hitches, his proximity growing more and more unignorable. So you grab his face, cheeks cupped in one hand, and shake him for good measure. His closing lids flash open like gradually awakening from slumber, yet still not recovered from his daze. “What happened to you?”

“Werewolves.”

An icy cold settles in your bones. Werewolves. There are such things as werewolves as well. Vampires, witches and werewolves. What other creatures of horror are plaguing your world that you don’t know of? That explains that muttish stench he carries. The blood he’s soaked in… Is it his or theirs? You think you feel slightly sick.

Brushing his hair out of his face, you point his drooping head at you again. “Tell me what happened.”

“Those stupid mutts… picking a fight… Taehyung, Jungkook and I had to put them in their place.” Hoseok begins peeling himself off you, and finally your body is no longer crushed under his. Your hands around him fall to your side idly as you watch him stumble off the bed and head towards the door, though he doesn’t make it two steps before tumbling onto his knees. You hurry after him to catch his upper body before he falls completely onto the ground.

His shoulders in your grip, you try to examine him for any wounds, and though there are some tears in his clothes, the skin underneath has been healed clean. So why? “Hoseok, look at me.” Your voice is urgent, authoritative, it almost has the life it once had to it. His eyes lock onto yours, this time permanently without closing. They’re blank, the amber green murky with an unreadable shroud. “What’s wrong with you? You need to tell me.”

So with obvious effort, he grunts out, “Werewolf blood makes us… It’s like… wine to us. Too much and our mind is” hiccup “inebriated.”

Oh. You let out a sigh of relief.

Hoseok is drunk on werewolf blood.

Though, you’re not sure why you’re relieved that he’s alright. Surely you should be wishing for the opposite.

With tremendous endeavour, you drag him up onto his feet and walk him to the ensuite bathroom, huffing as you sit him down on the edge of the lavish bathtub that every Feed bathroom contains but you have yet to use. Hoseok is uncooperative, trying for detours on the bed, attempting to hop onto the sink. With the knowledge of his intoxicated state now, he appears like a little child, an innocently fascinated smile constantly plastered on his face, too easily impressed by even his own reflection in the mirror. For you, it’s a contrasting sight. Though he has always possessed a child-like temperament in his playfulness and love to goof at silly things, his usual underlying insanity is nowhere to be found right now.

It makes his company more soothing knowing that his mind absolves of any ulterior motive.

You don’t know why you’ve taken it upon you to do so, but you rummage around to find a clean towel. Glancing at the mirror as you twist the faucet to dampen the towel, you try not to notice how you scarcely recognise yourself anymore.

Hoseok groans at the wet coldness you press onto his chin, the dried crusted blood once again watering into a river of rusty brown-red. His fingers fly up to catch yours, trying to pry the scrubbing towel off his face. “Mmmm.” He whines in protest, shut eyes frowning. You ignore his brewing tantrum, towel travelling down to absorb the red stains of his neck, though you clean with more gentleness now.

He isn’t so bad like this, you guess.

Still, the more you try to understand him, the more you lose yourself in the maze that is his psyche. The more you think you can predict him, the more he comes out with an unexpected complexity that adds another layer to his mask. Who is Hoseok? The entertainer, the mood maker, always seeking to please his guests? The little boy who wishes not to be tamed? The spoilt brat whose greed grows with the more he has? Who is he really?

You straighten and regard his state. Head drooping sluggishly, fingers fidgeting at anything in his reach, you realise a cold towel isn’t going to help him. You’re all too familiar from the nights your uncle stumbled back, the reek of alcohol finding you before he enters the room, to know that this state of inebriation needs to be conquered before he falls asleep, lest you wish to face an ill-tempered brute the next day.

“Hoseok.” You tap his jaw lightly, rousing him, and he looks at you with surprising focus that makes you cower a little. “You should shower.”

He blinks sleepily, and you think he doesn’t comprehend at first, but then he takes your hand in his and stands up. As he does, his face zooms dangerously close to yours, pointy tip of his nose a hair’s breadth away from brushing your lips. Your heart jumps. There’s a lag in your brain before you know to step back.

“Come with me, then.”

It’s evident that his whole demeanour has shifted. Gone is the childish giddiness he had. In its place: a solemn gravity, seemingly out of nowhere, his lips pressed into a taut line, jaw tense, a pinning glare possessing you unwaveringly. Even his voice has dropped deeper, forgoing its tangy cheer.

It takes more than a second for what he means to sink in. He wants you to join his shower.

“W-What? No!” You yank your hand from his, heat blooming across your cheeks.

At this point, you’re no prude, intimacy has been breached with several if not most of these vampires you share a roof with. Yet your dynamic and circumstance with each of them differs greatly. With Yoongi, it is a release of mutual resentment; Taehyung, it’s a seductive dance to pleasure you both; Namjoon, a reluctant magnetisation that you wish not to dwell on; Seokjin, a confusion of emotions and desperation; Jimin, a soft gentle healing. There has always been a sexual implication hinting at the back of your mind with these five, and with some, you’ve acted upon it. But never with Hoseok.

Because Hoseok has been too much of an enigma. Never once showing that type of attraction towards you, only a fascination that sits on the borderline of lunacy. Always just - ogling at you like you’re a show pony, marveling at the taste of your blood as if it’s a drug. And the confusion he inoculates when he acts as your friend, like he genuinely enjoys your company. Too baffling.

But right now, this very evening, something stirs in your stomach. A new sensation as another layer of him is peeled back to reveal yet another persona. A man desiring affection?

He looks at you for a while, as if he wants to say something. The absence of the smile that usually stalks his lips every moment of the day is throwing you off. You think he’s going to push further but he doesn’t, he simply tilts his head and says, “Suit yourself, sweetheart.”

Legs still rather wobbly, he makes his way, hand on the gold marble of the sink to balance his wavering weight, towards the shower. Standing there, stupefied at his sudden change, you don’t realise that he does not intend on waiting for you to leave before striping until he tears his blood-drenched shirt off crudely. Buttons fly towards the wall, scattering about in little clinks.

Faint scar-like marks dart across his back like a violent painting.

You’re transfixed. The light lines are not ridged, merely running smoothly on the surface of his skin. Some look like claw marks, some bite marks seemingly from an animal. Those werewolves he mentioned? Some look fresh, while others older.

But that doesn’t make sense. Why does he, a vampire with supernatural healing, have scars?

“So do you want to join or not?” He slurs, face half turned towards you, yet eyes trained low. His profile is striking.

“I- No. Um. I’m going to bed. Bye.” Your eyes immediately fall to the ground. Still incredibly flustered, you spin around and head back to your room, mentally trying to shake off the image of his scar-inflicted back.

At the door, you pause, back still facing him, and ask, “Will you be fine alone?”

You hear the whirl of his belt being pulled out, blood continuing to roar in your ears.

“I’ve been alone all these centuries - I think I’ll be fine.”

That’s not what you meant, but when you hear his zipper, you hurry to shut the door behind you, pondering the sourness of his reply.

.

His shower is quick, the water sounds stop not too long after you climb into bed. Though, Hoseok stays in the bathroom for a period of time before coming out. You debated going in to check in on him incase he has fallen unconscious or something of that sort, whatever werewolf blood does to vampires. But you weren’t sure if he would be dressed, so you stay tucked under the covers in a small huddle, quietly trying to dissect his character in your head.

The door eventually opens, though it doesn’t swing open as Hoseok normally does to announce his entry. He’s still in that odd sombre mood.

Lying on your side, curled up into a small lump, your back is facing him. Eyes shut yet wide awake, you hear a drop of water hit the floor every few seconds. You can’t resist the urge to look up, to see whether he has washed away the blood and intoxication.

But at the sight of his naked body, manhood only covered by the towel hanging loosely around his waist, you nearly roll off. Though his skin is mostly dry, there is still a lustre glossed over his unearthly sculpted body. The room is dark, his silhouette cast by the bathroom lights behind him. Despite the poor vision, you are mesmerised by the ridges of his abdomen, chiseled so perfectly that you wonder how they feel like beneath your touch. A defined V is carved on his pelvis, pointing down to a devilish place you’re glad the darkness doesn’t allow you to see.

You catch sight of his hand that is bunching up the towel loosen, just in time for you to swing back down into your foetal position away from him before you hear the cloth drop carelessly.

Is he purposely trying to tizzy you?

Your eyes close firmly as he paces to the dresser, and they stay that firmly closed while you hear him dress, hear the bathroom lights click off.

You jolt when you feel the pressure on the other side of that mattress, your knees curling up tighter, inconspicuously inching further away. To your relief, as he climbs into bed, he keeps his distance, doesn’t reach for you like you were scared he would.

The silence hums loudly, rhythmed by his shallow breaths. Is he finally sober?

No sound. Not a word. For Hoseok, that’s worrying.

Damn yourself, why do you care? “Are you feeling better?” You almost bite your tongue as you ask, cursing your inability to keep to yourself. At least you don’t turn to face him.

Silence, still. Steady breaths.

You begin to wonder if he fell asleep the second his back sunk onto the mattress. It wouldn’t be a surprise.

But then you hear the lightest sigh. “Feeling less drunk, but head still pounding. Dizzy.”

You’re unaccustomed to the deepness of his voice, wondering where its usual loud annoying cheeriness has strayed off to. You don’t want to say you miss it, you certainly don’t. You just… grew so used to it.

This version of Hoseok is too human. It’s uncanny.

Despite laying there in silence, it doesn’t feel silent at all. The tension is blaringly loud in the air, almost a physical pressure pushing up against you, goading you to do something. Turn around and face him. Let him feed on you to replenish. But no, he’s fed a lot today already. Your collar still feels sore. Find another vampire and ask them to cure him. But at this time of day, where the sun is already almost completely uncovered, they should all be asleep. Then at least talk to him, something, before he resumes back to his normal self that you have to cower from.

“What are those scars on your back?”

Your voice startles him. Though you can’t see well, you notice him jolt. Was that too much to ask? Too personal? And honestly, do you actually want to know the truth to your question or would you sleep much sounder without it?

He doesn’t answer.

Instant regret. You count your breaths, shut your eyes and try not to be hyper-aware of short the distance of an arm’s length actually is between your back and his side.

You shouldn’t have asked that. Of course it would be a sensitive topic. What else could explain the literal scars on his back that have failed to heal even with his supernatural abilities?

There is a line drawn between you and Hoseok. There are boundaries, though some particularly vague and hazy, between you and each vampire, but the line is especially distinct with him. You have to remember, you can’t act the same as you do with Seokjin or Taehyung with someone like Hoseok or Yoongi. He’s not your friend. None of them are your friends, really. Hoseok, one of the least of all.

Who knows what psychological trigger you’ve switched on by asking such question? Curiosity did kill the cat afterall.

“They…” It’s your turn to jounce, his response unexpected. “I don’t know, I guess there’s a limit to what my abilities can heal, and to be honest, I like the look of them anyway. I think there’s a word for it, but my mind isn’t working properly… M-something. Ma- You know, the opposite of sadism.”

You know.

“Masochism…?”

“Yeah, that. Masochism.”

The room goes quiet after he mutters the last syllable of a word you would never anticipate to be his answer. Hoseok is a masochist? He enjoys pain inflicted onto him? If it were even possible for your blood to go colder, you feel a chill spear through your veins.

Fuck, these vampires are dark. And you thought you were morbid…

“Why…?” So Hoseok is at the opposite of the spectrum from Yoongi. You vaguely understand Yoongi, how he lashes out due to self hatred. It’s a cycle of pushing people away due to fear of intimacy from his loneliness, and as a result feeling more alone. He likes to inflict pain because that way, he can convince himself that he’s an unlovable monster, and pretend that he is choosing to be alone. But with Hoseok, you cannot fathom how or why he enjoys pain. How could anyone? “If you don’t mind me asking…”

You’re tempted to turn, eye contact is human nature, but you don’t think you can stomach it. There is an inexplicable weight, an intensity bestowed. You feel as though you’re sinking in quicksand, a slow agonising submergence, swallowed up by the burden you’re seeking to know about but can’t resist.

“It’s so boring, living like this.” He mumbles. You hear him rustle around to get comfortable, or maybe to inch closer to you. “We’ve been alive for more than two thousand years. Life begins to get rather insipid, nothing really... stimulates me anymore. Yeah, fight with demons, get wasted on werewolf blood, sure, pretty fun.” Hiccup. “But after so many years, you start to not really feel anything anymore.”

Truthfully, you think you get it. You get his inertia, the lack of anything exciting him about life.

“Like yeah, I know how you see me. I’m this over-the-top, dramatic class clown caricature, so you probably won’t believe me when I tell you about how bored I actually am. But I am.” hiccup

“So pain is your remedy?”

“I guess, yeah, pain is my remedy. You know that feeling when your skin gets cut, that rush of cold that infiltrates you?” Unfortunately, all too well. “It’s pretty exciting. There’s no feeling like it.” hiccup “It’s just so refreshing, to be able to feel somewhat mortal. Get torn apart a little, because I know I’ll stitch back up together anyway. It’s the only thing that brings me thrill nowadays. Before we found you.”

“What if you don’t?” Vampires are immortal, but not invincible afterall.

“Then I guess I don’t.”

Hoseok says it with a finality, as if death is no big ordeal to him. If it happens, it happens. He’s not self-destructive perse, you know he isn’t actively looking to die. He just wants to feel something. Like you.

Yeah, you think you get it…

Despite the difference in the sufferings you’ve been exposed to, monotony breeds insensitivity to most stimulants of life. Food tastes blander, colours duller, sense of self starts to ebb away. Hoseok had been a cheerful man before becoming a vampire, one requiring extravaganza in his life, flamboyance, because his life was a show, the embodiment of entertainment. How long did that take to crumble? For him to grow out of parties and parades because he realised that they could no longer fill that void?

The fall from a life of exhilaration to one where you were only passing time is tragic. He puts on a show to convince himself that he’s having fun, imposes it on everyone around him.

You’re beginning to dissect the animus of Hoseok, what truly underlies his insanity.

It’s disconcerting, how much he’s opening up when he isn’t sober. He has kept this in for a while, you can guess.

“Hey…” He slurs sleepily, though you hear his purpose, a sort of determination to stay away and say one last thing. And finally, you turn.

In this darkness, you hardly see a thing more than the shadows cast around him. You can’t see his facial expression, and you think it’s perhaps a good thing; you don’t wish for it to confuse you more. What throws you off is the heat emitted from his body. Vampires are cold creatures, warmth absent in their touch. You try not to think about the werewolf blood still coursing through his veins to keep him warm, how it makes it feel as though a human lays beside you rather than the monster in actuality.

“Yes?”

Your reply falls flat. As your vision adjusts to the pitch black, you are hyper aware of the stillness of the night that encases you.

“I…”

He.

It’s silent. So silent you can hear the thrumming of your chest.

“Yes?” You repeat, egging him on. His hesitancy has a depressive tone to it, it is somehow so genuine, rather than for dramatic effect like one would expect from him.

“I’m sorry.”

Those two words shoot into you like bullets of chaos and disarray, their shells ricocheting. Your ear rings as if deafened by an explosion. Maybe this is a dream. You can’t tell these days anymore.

“I’m sorry for everything.” He sounds throaty, still dragging his words as he tries to grapple at sobriety but fails. He also sounds like he means what he’s saying, like he feels terribly guilty.

You don’t understand.

“What do you mean… Why…?” Your eyes drop to the distance between you, fixing on the shadow of a crease you can barely make out.

“I’m just-” Hoseok tosses onto his side to look at you. You stare at that shadow harder. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“But wh-”

“Every time I look at you, I just want to, I don’t know, shake you. No, not you. Shake myself, or my brothers. I want to shatter some glass, sprint at a wall, I don’t know. I don’t fucking know what I’m saying. But yeah, every time I look at you, I just feel so fucking bad, man. I’ve- I guess I’ve been pretty good at keeping the guilt at bay all these centuries - we kind of have to, or we wouldn’t have survived two thousand years. But like, when I look at you, I can’t forget how much you’ve suffered. That kind of damage scars you forever. I can fucking see that you’re a shell of a person.”

Your throat constricts. You hate this feeling. Not that people have ever pitied you before, seeing as there was no witness of your uncle’s abuse, there was no one to feel sorry for you. But right now, you get it. That wash of humiliation from the small satisfaction you gain from someone pitying you, someone acknowledging how bad you have it, all the shit you’ve been through. It makes you sick.

Yes, you’re damaged. Good that he knows. Good that it tears apart his conscience. You’re glad that it makes him feel horrible.

Then why? You want to ask him. But you know he’s not finished with his piece.

“I see that you try to hide how fucking empty you are when you’re with me, try to act like you’re enjoying my company and actually find my jokes funny. I guess that’s why I keep trying to make you laugh. I know I’m annoying as fuck. Hell, I would hate me if I were anyone but me. But, I don’t know, I just want to stir some reaction from you, make you feel less hollow. I know it fucking sucks for you here, and I want to make it suck less, you know?”

A shiver fires down your spine. You have never thought about it like that.

Drunk words, sober thoughts. Or so the saying goes.

All this time, you thought that Hoseok views you as some sort of dancing monkey, forcing you to perform tricks for him, smiling, laughing, stroking his ego.

But the truth is, he wants to spark some life back into you. His jokes, his stories, his antics. They have been for you, not him.

Your throat trembles.

“All that shit with your uncle, God, it was brutal, even for me. It was the fact that you couldn’t escape from it. You were living through hell for how many years? All because of us. And now you’re stuck here with us, have to continue to endure. It just doesn’t stop for you, does it? And I know it makes no sense coming from me. Especially from me, I guess. You know, I really wish I could control myself. But that sensation that overtakes our minds, I wish I could describe it to you, it’s fucking insane. Your blood tastes like a drug to me, I don’t know, heroin or something. Except it doesn’t kill me, it kills you.” His voice is drifting, quieter, duller, slower. Like he’s mumbling without knowing he’s speaking out loud. The words just keep tumbling out.

Glancing up, you see that his eyes are shut, chest rising heavily, on the brink of sleep. You want him to fall asleep. You don’t want to keep listening. Because it sickens you knowing that buried under all those masks is an emotionally empathetic person, hardly the maniac you thought him to be. Because it would be so much easier if he was that, so much easier to hate your tormentor and see him as a monster.

But actually, he isn’t. He senses your pain, holds remorse for his actions.

You hate it. You hate it.

Just let me believe that you’re pyschopathic.

“Anyway... what I was saying is that…” His head droops to the other side. Sleep will siege him soon, you’re glad to know. “I know I’m a hypocrite. Namjoon would give me hell if he heard me sympathising with the Feed, but I truly mean no malicious intent towards you... This is just the way things are for us…” His breathing slows, deepens. Words only just more than a slur of syllables. You lay there, clutching your fists, waiting for it to be over, but only for you to lie awake and ponder this revelation for hours. “I wish… I wish it didn’t have to be you... after all that you went through. But I guess you only went through that because of what you are… Hurting you was the only way to protect you...”

You don’t even hear it at first, silently contemplating his words. But then the last bit sinks in.

“Wait, wait, what?” You break your silence. Hoseok has stopped making sense, you shouldn’t expect more from a drunken vampire, but he had been making sense before. “What do you mean?”

“What do I mean what?” He mumbles and rolls away, but you grab his sleeve and prevent him from turning and entering a realm of dreams.

“What you said in the end. About how… I don’t know... I went through that shit because of what I am. What do you mean? And hurting me was the only way to protect me.” Your blood has gone icy. You don’t want to be left with nothing but those words and your endless imagination of what they could possibly mean for the next few hours.

“You know, the spell…”

Spell.

“What spell?” But his eyes are completely closed, hardly a stir at your question to indicate he heard you at all. His sleeve bunches up under your fist, you gently rattle his face. “Hoseok, what spell? What are you talking about?”

He tries to shake you off, frowning in annoyance at your disturbance. “You know. That spell, the one to keep you safe.”

“Keep talking about the spell, Hoseok. Please. Safe from what?” You continue to shake him, stomach tying into knots. What spell?

“Safe from us, whatever Creatures of the Night your blood attracts.” Vexed, he grabs your wrist, eyes half opening, and shoves them away. “The spell the angels put, remember?”

“I don’t remember. Tell me about the spell, what was it?” You hear the urgency, the degrading desperation in your voice, but you need to know. You need to. What fucking spell to keep you safe?

“It’s complicated. Some twisted magic? You know that car accident with your parents? That was some Hell’s magic, when the demons started to find you... Angel blood isn’t just valued by vampires. They would’ve taken you if the angels hadn’t been watching closely and intervened. Then they, the angels I mean, decided to shield your aura, you know, your angel aura. The thing that lets the supernatural know that you have angel blood? It’s a distinctive scent for us, and I’m guessing other creatures too. It attracts demons and whatnots and helps them hunt you. It’s like a beacon of light. So they had to suppress your aura. And the only way to suppress angel aura is to suppress the angel themselves. Make them suffer, endure tremendous pain, dull their virtues, make them lose the will to live, et cetera. That way you don’t ‘shine’ anymore, and we won’t be able to find you. So I guess they did some sort of spell, or whatever heavenly magic, on your uncle so that his mind was warped and unconsciously fixated on hurting you... It’s fucking dark and twisted, especially for angels... To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. That’s what irks me... Don’t know why but it just makes me feel so fucking bad…”

Something churns violently in your stomach. And you would have thrown up if you had eaten much previously.

None of it makes sense. Or maybe it’s starting to make too much sense.

You can’t believe it. You fucking can’t believe it.

You let Hoseok drift off to sleep, the weight of his body falling limp. You let go of his face.

You just can’t. Fucking. Believe it.

There’s no way this is true. He’s drunk. He has made up some story in his head. There’s no way.

Because there’s simply no way that the past few years of your endless torture has been a gift from the angels, a path paved for you to endure. To shield you. To save you.

In what sick universe…

You scramble off the bed and rush into the bathroom, ignoring the loud pads of your feet against the cold wooden floor. Your fingers tremble as you turn the light switch on and slam the door behind you with your back. For a moment, all you hear is the ocean of your roaring blood.

That’s why that night your parent died had felt so strange, so off, your disagreement with your parents so out of the blue. That’s why there was a storm. That’s why a car drove into you and killed your parents. That’s why your grandmother died so shortly after despite normally having great health. That’s why there was a sudden change in your uncle’s demeanour, as if a switch had been flipped in him. That’s why he had locked you in the basement, broke your legs routinely to stop you from escaping, beat you and your sister without reason.

It was demons and Creatures of the Night and a so-called “protection” ploy from angels.

You want to scream. As your back slides down the door, you want to scream at the top of your lungs. The amalgamation of emotions is tearing you apart, piece by piece.

This is it, the tipping point, the loss of your sanity.

His words play over and over again in your head, a drunken confession that he probably did not realise the meaning of in his state.

To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it. To protect you from demons by making you suffer so much that you lose the core of your being. To destroy you in order to save you from hell and the creatures from it.

Like a prayer.

Panting hysterically, you feel your mind shattering into a million shards. You can’t comprehend it. You don’t want to. You don’t want to know that the pain you felt, day after day, for what felt like an eternity had been a plot. A fucking spell. You don’t want to know. You don’t want to. You don’t want. You don’t. You.

You. Can’t. Do. This.

01:01. The crash. The beatings. The death of your sister.

It’s possible that you are crying, shaking, but you’re not aware.

And after crumbling on the bathroom floor, for minutes, maybe hours, you make your decision.

You run.

.

The sun is still out.

That means they can’t come out yet. They can’t come after you. They’re probably still asleep, unbeknownst of your escape.

The house had been eerily quiet as you snuck out. And as soon as you stepped foot outside the front door, you had felt it.

The incredible weight holding you down. Like the manor itself was shackled to your ankles. Walking away felt like trudging through mud, dragging this boggling heaviness with you. Every sire bond that has formed was shrieking in your head, wailing, begging for you to stop leaving.

It was purely your willpower and determination that gave you the strength to overcome the supernatural ties that tethered you to those vampires. You had to ignore how much your limbs were aching, how much your heart was straining. You just had to run away. Keep going and don’t look back. It was melting your brain into a puddle, but your mind had been in ruins anyway.

You didn’t know where you were going, the forest faced every side of the house, but you just kept going, as far from them as possible. If you ran down one direction, you were bound to meet an end at some point, find civilisation.

There is no plan. No plan as you fled the walls of those wretched vampires. You just knew you couldn’t stay, couldn’t continue living like that with the knowledge that was spilled onto you. There’s no way you could have pretend not to know and face those vampires, let them drain your blood when they had been part of the reason behind all your suffering.

Fuck the Heavens and the Hells. Fuck the angels, the demons, the vampires, werewolves, witches, all the damnable fucking supernatural.

Angel blood in your veins. A fucking curse.

Every bone in your body is starting to hurt, lungs growing weaker every gasping breath. You keep running, ignoring the overbearing ache and faint voices in your head chanting sorrysorrysorry.

Sorry, child, we’re sorry.

.

The sun has set. It is dark. And you are still running through the forest, no inkling at all of how far you’ve gone and how far is left until you find your rescuer.

The night is eerie, enveloping you in a fog of oblivion, no perception of anything beyond this forest. Howling can be heard from a distance, or what you hope to be a distance. You’re hanging on by a thread, but only just. You don’t know how much longer you will last, you just know that you’ve passed the point of no return now. They would have been searching for you since the daylight began to dwindle. They are on their way.

There had been so many instances where you had just stopped, panting, and stared at your own two feet, wondering what the fuck you’re doing. Because where are you running to? Who is going to believe you when you tell them about the fucking vampires looking for you? Who is going to care about some crazy girl?

What is the point in running? Living, even?

But an instinct within you, the one sparked by this revelation, didn’t allow your legs to stop. The whole world is against you. The whole fucking world. Creatures of the Night are hunting you, the angels have abandoned you to a cruel spell, your family is rotting six feet under. No one is going to fight for you, except yourself.

You are a survivor.

Energy waning from the lack of food and the sparing gulps of water you had salvaged from a brooke, the only thing fuelling you is your adrenaline. At this time of night, your vision is no more than dark silhouettes of trees and rocks. Your limbs are numb. The only thing telling you that you haven’t stopped moving is the constant crunch of leaves beneath your feet, crisply ringing. Keep going. Just keep running.

Where are you?

You hear a voice, his voice. No, you don’t hear it, you sense it. You feel his worry, his fear.

Where did you go? Please.

They can’t possibly be near. Even with vampire speed, there’s no way that can catch up with you so quickly when you’ve been gone for hours.

Please.

The pleading makes your heart lurch. You stop, heaving over your knees.

Guilt. It’s the guilt. Why do you feel guilty for leaving? No, you don’t feel guilty, the bond is making you feel it. It’s trying to manipulate you.

I can’t lose you…

But that’s definitely his voice, his inner thoughts. Seokjin is afraid, panicked, in a frenzy to look for you. Genuine concern.

Maybe you should go back. What are you even doing anyway? Where are you going? There’s no purpose.

It also dawns on you that they will pick up on your scent right away. Even if they don’t find you tonight, everywhere you go, they will find you eventually. They had found you even though your aura had been muffled by your uncle’s abuse. They somehow found you. They are always going to find you.

Maybe you should give up. Just submit to them for the rest of your eternity. Either way, you would be suffering, the angels will see to that. Just give up.

Your fists tighten on your knees. It’s freezing cold; your clothes shredded by sharp grappling branches, the midnight breeze percolates pass the futile material and assails your skin. Thoughts racing at an uninterpretable speed, your lost purpose becomes blaringly apparent.

It’s not so bad in there.

Please be okay. Please come back. Don’t go.

They kind of care about you, in their own warped sense of what caring is. Right? They almost love you, some of them. Right? Right? Right? Right? Right?

I miss you. I’m coming for you. I love you.

Right?

Please be okay.

“SHUT UP!” You sob out loud. In the distance, your outburst scare away a flock of sleeping birds, their wings flapping in synchrony to your heartbeat. “Please just shut up.” As tears erupt like a dam, your slam your hands to your ears to shield you from the sound. But of course, it doesn’t stop. It isn’t a sound. It’s a feeling. It’s the sire bond telling your mind his emotions. “Shut up. Stop making this harder for me. Shut up.”

Falling onto your knees, you simply break. Every fibre of your mind is peeling away, your entity flaking into dust. The cold stings your damp cheeks, trickling down to your neck where you remember so vividly the feeling of their fangs.

They almost love you, some of them.

That’s good enough, right?

That’s better than… nothing.

More birds shriek into the silence of the night, so loud that you hear them clearly despite your covered ears.

Are they here? Already?

You keep crying, soil eating your crumpled frame.

And because of your sobs, your firmly shut eyes, your covered ears, you don’t hear the footsteps approach you until you sense a looming presence behind.

Here.

Which one is it?

Slowly, every inch of you trembling, you turn.

A shocked man stares at you in wide eyes. Some sort of camper or hiker judging by his attire.

Not here.

“Oh my god. Please help me. Please help me.” You crawl over to his feet, ignoring the protest of your exhaustion and your pitiful position. “Sir, please help.” Your luck has turned. Finally. You’re going to be okay. Finally. The tears fall harder.

“W-what happened? Are you hurt? Lost?” Gradually processing the dirt covered girl collapsed and crying at his feet, the man bends down and examines you in concern.

“Yes, please, just take me somewhere safe. Please, they’re going to find me.” The wash of relief almost overwhelms you to unconsciousness.

“You need to tell me what happened, little girl. You’re in shock. Who’s going to find you?”

In the dark, you can’t see well, but something in his eyes makes you trusting of him. It’s the genuine worry and care. What a normal man is supposed to look like. You’re saved. You’re finally saved.

“We have no time, just take me… take me to the police.” Your shaking hand grips at his fleece in desperation. You don’t know what you can tell him or the police, you don’t know anything more powerful than vampires than can protect you from them, but you can think about that later. You just need to go now.

“Okay, okay. Let me carry you.”

No. Child, no.

This time, it isn’t Seokjin’s voice. Someone else, like that faint chanting you occasionally hear.

“Thank you.” You shift into a position that better enables the man to reach under your legs. Behind him, you see a pack of black dogs, creeping warily towards you, sniffing. “Are those your dogs?”

“Yes, don’t worry, they are clever boys.”

When his palm touches the underside of your thigh, ice pierces into your skin.

No. Not him. Not safe.

You know that ice. You know that inhuman lack of body heat.

As he hoists you up, you nudge him away and roll back onto the ground. “Wait.” Moonlight illuminating part of his face, you survey his pale skin, his devilishly good looks. His brows pinch in confusion, but there’s a twinkle in his eye.

Not human.

You glance over at the dogs again. Sleek black coat, long sharp ears, crimson eyes. Where their legs should meet the ground are misty shadows, like ghosts.

Not dogs.

The man’s lips quirk up. His camper’s attire dissipates like dust to reveal a black suit underneath.

You run.

Twigs snap beneath your feet as you sprint as fast as your calves allow, away from whatever they are. Your chest aches from fatigue, ankles screaming for you to stop. As you run, you ignore the branches reaching out to scratch your cheek, your arms. You hardly even feel the cuts against the twisting feeling of dread in your gut.

Angel blood isn’t just valued by vampires.

Looking back, you see the man stood rooted where he is. He isn’t coming after you, but the smirk he wears is enough to tell you not to stop. But not long later, you realise why he isn’t chasing.

Growls, howls of excitement, absolute beastly noises erupt from left and right. The hounds are running at an astounding speed beside you, their pelts pitch black despite the moonlight that they should reflect. Jaws open, they pant at you wildly as they hunt you. Zigzagging between the trees to create a misleading path, you try to create as much distance from them as possible. But they’re quick things. Clever boys.

Soon, they are narrowing in on you, until the pack is an arrowhead surrounding you. The closest hound snaps his jaw at your ankle, barely missing you. The loud crunch from the collision of its canines as he shuts his jaw, you know your foot would have been gone if you had been one second slower. You don’t have time to yelp. You focus on running ahead, slipping between boulders and following your instinct for directions.

Where are you? You hear Seokjin once again.

I’m here! You try to scream down the bond. Save me.

You don’t know why. You don’t know why you are asking for help from the very ones you had been running from in the first place. But you just know that, whatever is hunting you, your fate would be much worse with them.

I’m coming. His utter distraught is gone, replaced by a calm composed determination instilled by the awaited reply from you at last. And you know at this moment that it was a mistake to flee. Seokjin at the very least, regardless of everyone else, would never harm you, would always look after you. Why did you leave? Why had you acted upon your deranged irrationality? We’re looking for you. Don’t worry.

Relief. Because that is a promise. And you trust him.

But now the guilt of fleeing from them kicks in. What the bond had made you feel every step you took, that ripping sensation as if you’re tearing apart something substantial, you can imagine being a mammoth’s weight worse for them with their heightened senses.

Something is chasing me. Please help me. I’m sorry.

His fear returns, this time a formidable wave wiping his away short-lived relief. What is chasing you?

Dogs, big black dogs. There was also this man.

Bloody hellhounds and a Drude demon. Shit.

You have no idea what those creatures are but you can tell by the explosion of terror in Seokjin that it’s some of the worse you could encounter.

Distracted by his disclosure, you misplace your foot on an uneven log and topple down, the bark you crash onto scraping fire against your skin. Pain explodes at the back of your skull where it hits something severe. You don’t see beyond a sea of pulsing black.

Then something rips into your leg. You don’t know if you are screaming.

.

You drift in and out of consciousness.

Tiny stars dance around the deep blue sky. They look pretty.

You think you hear something growling, whimpering maybe.

What is that leaking from you so briskly? Blood? Hmm.

Darkness.

.

You hear voices? Yes, voices. Unintelligibly arguing. But if you shut your eyes again and stop shifting on the ground, they could pass off as background music.

Then the volume grows. Fighting. Grunting. More Growling. More whimpering.

But you feel safe. You don’t know why but you feel safe. That’s how you know you’ve lost your mind for good. There are virtual flames burning around you, warmth licking at your broken body. Nothing can get past the flames. Nothing can hurt you. This phantom fire is shielding you.

You heart is burning too, fighting. Someone’s sireship is fuelling you, feeding you, forcing life back into you.

When you open your eyes, when a vaguely familiar face appears, hovering over you, obstructing your view of the towering treetops and wavering constellations. You can’t quite put of your finger on his name, but you know you’re safe.

His eyes are big, full of concern and trouble, his hair long, black, wavy but tucked behind his ears. A black liquid is splattered across him, some on his beautiful face that is taut in vexation.

You don’t protest when he carries you in strong sturdy arms, lifelessly flopping against his chest.

He is warm. Fire. Safe.

And then he is zooming past the trees, so fast the wind tickles at you violently, your limp body jostling. Though half unconscious, your eyes don’t leave him, studying his angular jaw, the round crook of his nose.

J…

A droplet of black liquid rolls off his chin and splats onto your arm. It tingles like weak acid, faintly sour, an unearthly sensation.

Your heavy lids seal you back into the darkness.

.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the softness around and under you. Arms from beneath you draw away, leaving your weight to sink into the bed. Your eyes stay shut.

Warmth is pressed onto your lips, gently, careful as if one hard prod would shatter you. Your throat knows to swallow the stream flowing into your mouth, its taste unfamiliar, but safe.

Warm. And safe.

Almost immediately, you feel its effects catapult into your system. Skin everywhere begins to sew back together, bones like toppled buildings building brick by brick, the chaos in your mind whispered to sleep. That protective fire around you blazing.

Still, you don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to. You can’t face them.

“Troublesome little shit.” He pushes the hair out of your face, touch possessing a surprising delicacy that contradicts his insult and completely entangles your preconceived conception of him. But his voice… So soothing like honey. Not what you expected.

You train your breath to be steadily slow, eyes to be unmoving under your closed lids, hoping to pass off as asleep. The silence creaks, followed by a rustle of bedding. Then you feel the heat of his breath stroke the tiny hairs on your forehead. You suppress a flinch. But he presses his lips onto your skin, so tenderly you almost open your eyes to see if it’s really Jungkook.

“Please don’t leave again.”

And then he’s gone.

❦

@taexxxiiaa @serendipity-secrets @killcomet @askingtheimportantthingshere@blackpanther4550 @comingjimin @unatempesta-dipensieri @dapppphhhhh  @unatempesta-dipensieri @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @queerloser17 @linyi-lovbts @somewhereinthestarss @xxqueenwxtchxx @whitefeatheredwyvern @embrace-themagic @brokencrownqueen @i-dont-even-know-fck @bangtandimples @kalkeegan @beetaeass @confessionsofascientist @chimycthulhu @hisunshiine @shooklier @livetay84 @runlikeabuffalo @nanna022 @berryjam17 @thelouhvre @bluemooncnblue @enigmaticlove-03 @lanu-la @bangtanfancamp @brbkpop @jiminisnotavirginrecs @samariakeeper @goodnightbug @dont-touch-me-fwit @tastelessfoolsbts  @queensavage1245 @laced-brds @ultraanonymousey @ashchats @godzillagirl-14 @lustremyg @animeshins @it-is-dana @itsavakent @strawberrym0chii @namchimtae @smoljams@brightenn @btsxdoll @d-noona @show-respect-to-your-queen @fyeebangtan@for-hobi @lx-leeta​ @thesoftuglies

❦

19/01/2020

© Copyright 2020

[llendrinall]

What if the golden trio + Draco magically get sucked into a universe where Riddle was killed before the potters were. And they grow up from babes to adulthood not remembering anything until they suddenly get their memories when each reach the age of 21 and ohh imagine how hard itd be on each's parents cuz they dont know whats wrong and all. Then bam Ron shows up engaged to a muggleborn he never spoke to in school and Harry and Draco are spotted on a date in a muggle zoo. The Malfoy's flip and so do the Potters.

It'd be a lovely story of healing, connecting and love and honesty I think they deserve it after the shit they went through.

The memories come to them in dreams. At first it’s just a strange, upsetting, dream that has a bit more consistency than dreams usually have and that lingers through the day while dreams fade away before you get out of bed. By the third night they have almost all the memories back, each dream slotting nicely with the previous one. Harry is understandably freaked out. He makes a quick trip to Godric’s Hollow to go hug his parents and then spends a lot of time looking at the one family photo they have in the living room, the one in which Harry and Dudley were seven. He stares at Petunia’s smile and wonders whatever happened to give him such horrible ideas about his aunt.

He and Ron are friends, living together as they went through the Auror training and now in their first year working as Aurors. Harry talks to Ron because he can’t shake that horrible feeling of dread; all the things he could lose or maybe all the things he has lost. That’s when they realize they have the same freaking memories, the same dreams, down to the nasty details like Ron leaving during the horcrux hunt or Harry being kind of a jerk about Ginny.

Ron, being Ron, is blessed with an eminently practical and down to earth sense of life. The dreams are strange and it would be very interesting to learn how come they got the same dream-memories, if something happened to their other selves and why are they suddenly remembering now. All those are very good and valid questions that someone should investigate. For now, Ron is going to find Hermione Granger and do whatever it takes to make her fall in love with him so he can marry her.

It turns out that Hermione has been getting the same dreams, the same memories, and when Harry and Ron – those two classmates she was friendly with but not super close to – come knocking on her door, she cries and she doesn’t know if it sadness for what they lost of joy to have them back. Ron once again shows his superior sense by grabbing her hand and saying that yes, this might be a super duper weird spell, and yes Hermione is right to suspect it and want to know why and where it came from, and yes, there may be some dark forces playing around; but none of that changes the fact that he loves her and even if the memories proved to be fake he will still love her because she has the courage and smarts to suspect the meaning of these memories and basically what Ron is trying to say is that he loves all iterations of Hermione. Sorry, but she is stuck with him.

They get married that same day, with Harry acting as a witness. Then they go tell their respective families. The Grangers take it surprisingly well and don’t even threaten Ron with dismemberment if he ever hurts Hermione. Instead, they ask him to do right by her. Ron, who might be going a bit mad, makes a vow of devotion and loyalty with his actual knee on the floor and the Grangers love it. They named their only daughter Hermione, of course they love it when an actual chivalric hero comes into their living room.

The Weasleys are a different thing. They know enough about magic to be suspicious of the sudden memories. Mrs Weasleys gives Hermione the stink eye because, to be honest, this sounds a lot like a love-potion. It’s only because Harry is there with the same memories and no wish to marry Hermione that Mrs Weasley doesn’t call the Wizarding Patrol immediately. Also, the twins and Ginny dislike Hermione. The twins slightly less so because they only had to suffer her as Prefect for a year, but for Ginny it was three long years of Hermione barring her from hexing and/or beating people. It was very frustrating and she blames Hermione for every pimple she got during that time. If Ginny had been allowed to hex Parkinson or Malfoy of freaking Finch-Fletchley every time they were their annoying selves, Ginny would have been much calmer and mellower and her skin would have reflected it.

So the Weasleys are not happy but there isn’t much they can do about it other than keep a close look on Hermione and wait for Ron to see reason.

It is a very busy weekend to say the least. On Monday Harry has vertigo because the week seems awfully empty (disarming a blood hex and capturing its creator, ppft, what is that for someone who remembers fighting Voldemort?). Harry would rather have his hours full so he won’t be overwhelmed by his thoughts. There is so much death in the memories! His parents, Sirius, Remus, Peter, even Regulus who is profoundly weird and very snobbish but James insists on inviting him to events and he keeps coming despite how uncomfortable he looks. They are all dead in Harry’s memories.

There is also Malfoy, who is even more of a jerk in the memories and who grew up to become an actual Death Eater like his father, someone who almost killed Dumbledore and who, when the time came, saved Harry’s life with a lie.

On Thursday the Auror office receives a call of dark activity in Minaford Park, which is where Draco Malfoy is living these days. Harry takes the assignment and makes quick work of the boggart and the ghoul that somehow were trapped under the stairs and were screaming at each other. As excuses go, it’s not too bad. Harry is certain that Draco could have done it himself, but it is messy enough that it seems believable that he would prefer someone else to fix it for him.

Draco offers Harry tea, which he accepts. There is a very odd tension in the air. Draco is down to his shirt sleeves and has shadows under his eyes and when he looks at Harry… It can’t be said that he looks at him funny. Draco was his usual snobbish self while he watched Harry getting rid of the creatures. But there is something in his eyes when Harry takes a seat and accepts the tea cup. Something almost like sorrow.

No, not sorrow.

Compassion.

���Look, Potter”, Draco says. “I am too old to start having prophetic dreams, but this affects you directly. You figure out if someone is playing with a timer-turner or what, here it goes.” And he tells Harry everything.

As one could expect, Minaford Park has a very beautiful garden. Draco and Harry spend hours after lunch walking through it. Ah, yes, Harry stayed for lunch. Draco insisted. He still had things to tell Harry and he was growing hungry.

They meet again on Saturday, ostensibly so Harry can tell Draco what he and Hermione had learned. Ron says he doesn’t give a damn where the memories came from. He only cares what he can do with them and so far he seems to be doing pretty well, having married Hermione and encouraged Bill to ask Fleur Delacour out. Hermione and Harry are a bit more worried, but Harry will admit the research effort goes 30-70% in Hermione’s favour.

Talking with Draco is good. He seems to share the same dread as Harry. Draco confesses that he is not happy with his conduct, or rather the conduct of the Draco that could be. He talks a lot about the fear and nausea at having the Dark Lord in his house, the smell of despair that took over the manor, the mad glint in his aunt Bellatrix’s eyes. Since Draco talks about his aunt, about seeing her mad and cruel and talking proudly about torturing the Longbottoms, Harry feels that he can talk about his own aunt Petunia and Draco will understand. Lily and Petunia don’t have the closest relationship, but to think that she could treat Harry like that…

The Sunday visit to the zoo isn’t a date. As soon as Hermione learns that Draco also has the memories she assigns work pairs and tasks. She sends Harry and Draco to check the reptiles in case they see something like Nagini in there. Both of them have the most memories of her. They should be able to recognize the snake.

Nagini is there and she is surprisingly cognizant for a snake which makes them suspect that she might be a horcrux. The discovery leaves them cold, a new kind of vertigo opening before them. They didn’t live through it, they are only memories, but the exhaustion of the war feels real and they don’t want to go through anything similar again.

Draco asks to go see the penguins and it might seem silly and contradictory, but watching them helps a lot to keep the chill from Nagini away. Neither can tell who initiated, but while in there they begin to hold hands. They go to see the butterflies next, which are in the next pavilion, and suddenly everything in the world looks much better. They don’t kiss when they part, but the way they look at each other is worth at least three kisses.

On Monday Harry receives a short message from Remus that simply says he has sequestered the Prophet’s copy but he doesn’t know how long he can keep Harry’s parents from seeing the news. Harry takes the morning off work and goes to Godric’s Hollow immediately so they can learn about Draco from him rather than the salacious gossip column.

James simply says, “MALFOY? You… MALFOY!?”.

He seems upset. Then he freezes and for the next ten minutes James says nothing. He doesn’t move. He is just there, in the kitchen, one hand in the air and the other holding a cup of tea that is growing cold.

“Harry, dear, I want you to come to dinner today.” Lily says. She has a worried frown but is otherwise unperturbed. “And tell us everything about those memories. Even the bad bits. This is important. It can be dangerous.”

“Yes! Dinner!” James screams, suddenly unfreezing. “Bring him to dinner. Tonight.”

“What?”

“No, you are right. It might be too formal, too soon. Quidditch, then. Does he like Quidditch? He must. I remember you complaining about him while you were in school.”

“He… likes Quidditch, yes.” Harry says hesitantly because even now he is not sure if his dad is talking about Draco.

“Perfect. We shall go see a Quidditch match, the three of us.”

“James.” Lily warns.

“Does anybody in this house know when the next Quidditch match is?” James cries over his wife’s warning that he is doing it again, just like with Sirius.

“Saturday.” Remus says.

“That’s too late! When is Sirius back?”

“Wednesday.” Answers Remus and despite his transformation exhaustion he nimbly steps away from Lily’s strike with the newspaper. Usually Remus would spend his transformation at home, but since Sirius had to go on a trip he came to James and Lily’s so he would have company, which led to the fortunate circumstance of being able to take the newspaper and delay the news.  

“Honestly, Remus.” Chides Lily.

“I’m not encouraging him! You can’t call answering his questions encouragement!”

“It is decided, then.” James announces from the chair. He has climbed a chair and is speaking from atop. “Friday, you bring young Malfoy home. We will play Quidditch and some board games and have dinner in the yard. Sirius shall bring Regulus so Malfoy is not the only Slytherin.”

“James, listen to me…” Lily tries with little faith that James would listen to anyone.

That same morning, at eleven, Lucius Malfoy receives a howler from James Potter composed of thirty-two seconds of mad laughter, which means that James must had listened to Lily at some point or most likely that she was able to take his wand.

It couldn’t be said that James Potter was happy to hear that his beloved son was dating a snobbish Slytherin prick, no, but as soon as he realized that Lucius Malfoy would be equally unenthused about it, it had awaken James’s unhinged tendency towards confrontation with the established power and forced adoption of families’ black sheep. He had done it to Sirius, he had done it to Remus, he had done it to Peter (even if it failed catastrophically) and he was doing it to Regulus now. He had even befriended Severus Snape. Oh! Snape! He should invite Snape too. That way they could make teams of four.  He would come if Lily asked him to.

And afterwards they explore those memories, and Lily looks worried and so does Snape. Regulus goes very quiet for a while but then he gives his opinion of what has happened and it’s the most words anyone has heard him speak but the multiverse theory makes a lot of sense.  

The Weasleys warm up to Hermione eventually. They can’t tell why, exactly, other that Ron is beaming these days. Also, every time she comes to the Burrow she brings a gift to Arthur. It is a very obvious ploy to make them like her but it works because she sees the gift through and answers all of Arthur’s questions no matter how long it takes. The twins took notes when she gave her physics lecture. It was most informative. They created two prank artefacts out of it.

They find the few horcruxes Voldemort managed to make. Peter, who had a falling out with the Potters years ago, resurfaces and tries to steal a horcrux and bring back the Dark Lord out of spite. According to Regulus some people are dedicated to bring their own destruction and you can’t do anything about it.  Barty Crouch Jr. also tries to bring Voldemort back, but by then Lucius Malfoy has been adopted by James even though he is a powerful adult man with his own family. It makes no sense. If anything, Lucius should be the one informally adopting people and grooming them under his wing to be his devoted friends and allies. But Lucius had become James’, just like Severus warned him it would happen, so he puts a stop to that Barty Crouch nonsense pretty quickly and to any other former Death Eaters with ideas. Lucius might not like the Potters but he likes the idea of Voldemort taking over his house even less, and whatever else his happening, it makes Draco happy, so.

What little of Voldemort remained alive, it is now dead.

The four of them, they have the shadows and regrets of two lives, the fear and pain of two wars, but the happiness afterwards… Oh, it is worth it, it is very, very worth it. It is the happiness of two lives, tenfold.  

[prettyboongi]

BTS Reaction: They React To You Speaking A Different Language (When Waking Up/Falling Asleep)

[Note: Hi readers! This fanfic is inspired by my very first request! And hopefully it won’t be the last. To be honest, this request was pretty challenging and it took me awhile to figure out how to go about it. At the end, I decided not to specify the language that Y/N speaks since I don’t want to alienate anyone. This one is definitely less than perfect, so constructive criticism is welcomed. But I do hope that you guys (especially the requester ^_-) enjoy it! Peace!]

Seokjin 

You and Jin absolutely loved your "Movie Night Fridays”. Not only do you two get to spend quality time together, you two also took turns when it comes to picking that night’s movie. And tonight was your turn - your pick: an underrated animated Disney flick - and you were excited. 

However, there was one issue at hand: you were unbelievably exhausted. All day, you were busy helping your best friend move into her new place and you didn’t anticipate her having so many things to take with her. Common sense tells you you should just turn in early but you decided against it. Especially knowing that Jin himself will be super busy the entire weekend. 

As you two were watching the film, you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier. It also didn’t help that you were extremely cozy in your favorite sweatpants and hoodie while snuggled under Jin’s soothing arm. Jin was unaware of your internal battle as he was too invested in the movie. It wasn’t until he heard you softly snoring that he attention was brought to you. 

He gently shook up your shoulder and said in a low voice, “Hey honey, wake up. Let’s get you to bed.” In response you mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch. “Hmm?”

Half awake, you started whining something in your native tongue, which at first confuses Jin since he had no clue what you were saying. But as you collapsed into his lap and immediately fell back to sleep, he couldn’t help but smile at your vulnerable state. 

“You’re too cute, Y/N,” Jin says to himself. He then turns off the movie and carefully carries you to bed. 

Yoongi

It was a calm, lazy Sunday afternoon when you and Yoongi decided to take a nice nap together. Well, it was calm before your slumber was interrupted by the sound of Yoongi’s phone. Despite its blaring sound, Yoongi was still peacefully asleep, like the lazy cat that he is. 

Annoyed and still heavy with sleep, you grabbed Yoongi’s phone and turned to shake him awake. Still not waking up, you get even more annoyed and start yelling at him as you shake him even harder. Without noticing, you yelled for him to wake up in your native language, which startled him as he finally woke up. It takes him a few seconds to register what was going on but pieces everything together with the sound of his ringtone and disgruntled expression on your face. 

Once Yoongi takes the phone from you and leaves for the other room, you lay back in bed and, in no time, continue your nap. 

Hoseok 

“Ugh, why is he taking so long?!.” you angrily say to yourself, sitting patiently on the couch. 

You were waiting for Hoseok to come back home from picking up food at your favorite restaurant. And honestly, you felt like he was taking a little too long with the food. Your precious food. You tried calling him to see what was the hold up but no answer from him. 

“I’m starving,” you whined in your head. You realized that whining and being angry wasn’t going to make the food immediately arrive, so you tried your best to relax. You laid down on your sofa, your head comfortably on a soft throw pillow and closed your eyes. You focused on your breathing for a few minutes which definitely helped calm your nerves. It also helped you pass out right on the couch. 

“Hey sorry babe,” Hoseok says as he walks into the apartment, setting the containers of takeout on the kitchen counter. “They made a mistake with our order, that’s why the wait was long. And I know I would be the one to suffer if I brought home the wrong food,” he trails as he realized he was talking to himself. “Y/N?” he calls out with no answer. He walks around the apartment, only finding you moments later, snoozing on the couch. 

“Awwww,” he coos while walking towards you. He then shakes you gently to wake you up, “Baby, the food’s here.”

You stir a bit before propping yourself up with your left elbow. Still half asleep, you look at Hoseok with drowsy eyes and softly mutters a phrase in your mother’s tongue. You weren’t fully aware of what you were saying but that didn’t stop it from stirring a certain feeling in Hoseok. Despite you rarely speaking your native language around him, it drove him crazy of how deep and sultry your voice sounded while speaking. In other words, it turned him on quite a bit. 

He took your dozy face and kissed you passionately, fully waking you up now. You broke away from his lips and said, “What about the food?” Hoseok looked at you with hungry eyes and replied with, “A little more waiting couldn’t hurt.”

Namjoon

 “You said that you’d take a break and take me out to lunch,” you said to Namjoon. 

You have been hanging out with Namjoon at his studio, as he was working on the groups’ upcoming album. Initially thinking it would be fun to spend some time with your loving boyfriend, witnessing his genius at work, you were just bored out of your mind. As an excuse to get out of the stuffy studio, you suggested he’d take a break and go to a nearby cafe together. But if Namjoon was known for one thing, it was his extreme perfectionism.  

“And I told you I will, once I was done with this song,” Namjoon answered back, keeping his eyes on the computer screen. 

“You also said that two hours ago!,” you whimper. 

“Be patient, my pet. I swear I’m almost done, then we can go.” 

You wanted to take his word but it’s really hard to, especially since you’ve been waiting on him for so long. But you didn’t want to leave him; any opportunity to hang out with Joon, you took it no matter what. The only thing you could do was jst to wait. 

You sat on the couch opposite from him and laid your head on the armrest. While you weren’t necessarily sleepy, the sound of Namjoon tinkling away on his computer combined with the soft glow that illuminated the studio made you feel relaxed. You eyes soon began to flutter and you found yourself drifting off to sleep. 

Not noticing that you were dozing off, Namjoon asks, “So which cafe did you want to go to: the one in the building or down the street?”  

You weren’t fully fast asleep yet and caught his question in time. However, while in your sleepy state, you answer him in your native language. 

Namjoon stopped what he was doing for a moment. Even though he understood what you said since he was pretty fluent in the language himself, he was confused since you two never used it with each other. 

“Why are you speaking in…,” he begins as he looks back to you, trailing off once he finds you asleep on the couch. He contemplates waking you up or leaving you alone to nap, but he ultimately chooses the former. He knew how much you wanted to spend some time together and didn’t want to disappoint you. 

He walks over to you and light taps on your shoulder, walking you up. “Ready to go?” he playfully asks you. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you only reply with a smile on your face. 

Jimin 

After finishing a recent comeback, the guys thought it would do them good to take a small vacation and decided to stay in LA for a little bit. Despite having so much fun with everyone, visiting historical landmarks and stopping by so many food stops, Jimin really missed you and wished that you were with him. He offered to fly out where he was but you had other important obligations to take care of. 

“Don’t worry about me, Jimin. Go ahead and have fun with the others,” he remembers you saying to him the last time you two spoke on the phone. He tried his best to keep his mind off you, but so many things made him think of you. “I wonder if Y/N has ever heard of this place?” “I bet Y/N would love street tacos.” Your attempts to hide your true feelings to the guys was in vain as they could sense that you were in his mind for the majority of the trip. 

After spending the entire morning and most of the afternoon sightseeing, he decides to give you a call once he gets back to their hotel room. He suspected it had to be morning where you were at and assumed you would be awake by now. He was right about it being early - way too early in your opinion - but you were in no way up yet. He clicks on your contact and waits for you to answer. 

“Hello,” he heard you answer. Your voice was groggy and raspy but Jimin was too chipper to notice. He was just so happy to hear you. 

“Hi honey!,” Jimin says into the phone, “Oh man, you don’t know how happy I am to hear your voice. Today’s been so busy for me. How’s your morning going?” 

Since you just woke up, it takes you a few seconds to fully understand Jimin’s simple question and you proceed to answer. Just in your native language. The one that Jimin was in no way fluent in. 

“Huh?”, Jimin responds perplexedly, “Y/N?” 

Hearing him say your name snaps you out of your sleepy state and realizes what you just said (or at least how you said it). Flustered, you gave yourself facepalm. “Oh sorry,” you apologized weakly, “I haven’t gotten up yet.” But all you could hear on the other was Jimin giggling hysterically, unable to control himself. “Hey!,” you said with a slightly annoyed tone, “What’s so funny, Park?” 

“Sorry honey,” Jimin says in between fits of laughter, “You’re just so freaking cute.” 

Taehyung

It was only recently that you and Taehyung decided to get your own place together. You two have dating for about two and thought it was about time. Sure, Taehyung did miss living with the guys and they missed him too. But Taehyung just loved you so much and wanted to take the next step in adulthood with you. 

For the most part, you and Taehyung made perfect housemates. You two divided chores evenly and neither nagged the other to do them. You cooked most of the meals, though Tae made it up with running whatever errand you asked of him. And most importantly, any conflict that arose, the two nipped it in the bud before the problem got worse. Yes, living at peace together was absolute paradise. 

Nevertheless, there was just one thing that Taehyung had a rather tough time getting used to: it was your sleep talking. Whether it was you walking him up in the middle of the night spouting gibberish or you mumbling incoherent phrases while taking a long nap, it would always catch Taehyung off guard. It wasn’t that he was annoyed or bothered by your sleep talking, it simply creeped him out. And avoid making you feel bad about it, he never brought it up. 

However, one night had to be Taehyung’s strangest encounter with you and, specifically, your sleep talking. It had been hours when you and Taehyung turned in for bed and both of you were fast asleep. A sudden movement of the bed had woken up Tae. He assumed you were leaving for the bathroom and tried to go back to sleep. But once he heard your voice in a strange tone, his eyes bolted open. He turned to you and found you sitting straight up, gazed fixed upon the front of you. 

“Y/N? You okay?,” he asked you but you didn’t respond. After a moment, you begin to speak in a deliberate yet monotone voice, all the while speaking in your native language. Your eyes were still staring into the darkness and you sounded as if you were reciting some demonic spell. You even heard his name a couple of times throughout your monolog, which didn’t help at all. Taehyung wondered if waking you up would’ve been a smart idea but honestly he was too spooked to move. This lasted a couple of minutes and when you were finished, you laid back on in bed and went fast asleep. Leaving a baffled and scared Taehyung, asking himself, “What the fuck just happened?”

The next morning, Taehyung walked into the kitchen, finding you making breakfast. 

“Morning, Tae,” you exclaimed in a cheery voice, “You hungry?”

Still disturbed from what happened, Taehyung stuttered a “Yes, sure”.

“What’s wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost.” 

Taehyung chuckled nervously, not daring to say anything. 

Jungkook 

"Tonight was really great, Kookie. Thanks for taking me out." 

You and Jungkook were driving home after a spending date night at a restaurant Jin recommended. 

At the steering wheel, Jungkook glances at you for a second and smiles. "You're very welcome, baby, I'm happy you had a great time. I really have to thank Jin hyung once I get home."

Date nights with Jungkook were always fun and this one was no exception. It didn't matter what you two ended up doing, there was never a dull moment between you two. You were just so happy to be with someone you can be fully relaxed with. 

The drive home was very calming. The warm glow of the city lights and the R&B music playing softly on the radio created a very chill vibe around you. Maybe a little two chill since you were beginning to fall asleep. 

Not taking his eyes off the road, Jungkook asks, " Hey, are you in the mood for some ice cream? I know this great place nearby, you'll love it." 

Still somewhat conscious but very close to falling to passing out, you answer sleepily in your native language. 

"What? Is that a yes?" he asks perplexedly but you don't answer. When he stops at the red light, he looks over to you. You were fast asleep, your head leaning on the glass window. 

Jungkook smiles softly to himself and gently runs your knee. "Time to get you home," he says quietly and drives into the night. 

[babbushka]

Beautiful, Beloved (5/8)

You had met three times: The first, an introduction. The second, a lunch. The third, your wedding. Can bonds be made in such short a time as a week long honeymoon aboard the immensely impressive RMS Titanic?

Yes, yes they can.

Titanic!AU Kylo Ren x Reader

7.5k ; Warnings: NSFW, mentions of imperialism and war, mentions of violence/murder, mild angst. 

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

The trip so far had been, in a word, magical. You were starting to wonder if there were any other way to really describe it, being with Kylo. He was so charming, with the way he championed you at every opportunity, spoke so highly of you and your causes. He was so funny, with his quick jokes and scathing remarks half-hidden behind tall champagne glasses. And he was intelligent, calculating and cunning and so smart, smart in a way that many of the other first class passengers hoped they seemed to be. They were all peacocks though, empty words and haughty laughs at quick criticisms that went over their heads.

Not your Kylo. No, he was a true gentleman in every sense of the word, accompanying you through the ship in the following days.

Time seemed to fly faster than the ship sailed through the sea, you thought to yourself as you rustled the sheets gently. You and Kylo had been aboard the ship for four whole days, four days filled with explorations and parties and dinners galore. You were the talk of the town, as it were, between your expensive Worth gowns and your husband’s reputation.

You paid the latter no mind, and instead spent most of your time seeing all that the Titanic had to offer.

He had taken you to the squash court just as promised, and you met up with your dear friend Lady Hux to watch a raucous few games between some of the sportsmen aboard. While the men grew competitive on the floor of G-deck, you and your husbands watched eagerly and made bets up on F-deck in luxury.

Aside from the games, you also enjoyed time in the pool. A part of the Turkish bath spa complex aboard F-deck, you had yourself a good soak before the two of you indulged in a couple’s massage that had left you more relaxed than ever before.

You visited all the restaurants and cafes available to you, the Veranda and Palm courts especially thrilled you with their greenery. Recent memories of tea on the Promenade, shows and card games and dances to orchestras filled your head. You liked being on the ship, it was a true marvel of course, but you longed for some green, and were excited to be surrounded by Earth once again when the ship was set to dock in merely only three more days.

How had the time passed, you wondered? It was too strange, how you would fall asleep and wake up in the night only to see the clock had gone backwards. Was it a deliberate trick of the captain? Or were you simply suffering cabin fever?

No, you chuckled to yourself, you were sure there was a reason for it. The ocean had its mysteries, but surely time travel was not one of them. You allowed your mind to wander about docking in New York, allowed yourself to think about all the things Kylo had promised.

The parties at the Waldorf-Astoria, the flowers from Union Square, the sheep in Prospect Park. You imagined his face staring up at the marvels of the skyscrapers, towering an incredible sixty stories tall!

Now though, you laid side by side in bed. His face was so peaceful like this, in sleep. You felt badly for him, even though this was his honeymoon he was still so stressed, so many thoughts running through his head. You could practically feel them, when you lifted your hand up and carded it through his beautiful silken locks. You tried to imagine him in the fashionable short cut, and found you couldn’t. There were many things you tried to imagine your husband as, but none of them could ever really compare to what he was.

He blinked awake slowly, like a cat who did not wish to really get up from his nap. He stretched his long strong limbs out, and in shaking away the dreams from his bones, he wrangled you into his arms, trapped you in his sleep-warm embrace.

“Good morning my darling.” You tucked a stray lock of hair which curled against his cheek so lovingly, back behind his ear. He no longer scowled at the movement, and you considered this a personal victory.

“Is it truly morning? I cannot tell if I am dreaming still, for you are so lovely.” His voice is exceptionally deep with sleep as he rolled you on top of him, he laid flat on his back, his chin tucking down against his chest to see you properly. His eyes are smiling, even if he’s not yet a morning person.

You took the opportunity to sit up and straddle him. The blanket and sheets slipped down your naked body as your hands rubbed coaxing circles on his hard stomach and defined pecs.

“Shall I help you realize how real I am?” You whispered, your hair falling around your face in a way you hoped was enticing.

From the way Kylo’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment and opened with renewed attention and lust, you knew it had.

“Oh if I could be so lucky to be graced by Heaven’s touch.” He licked his lips, his hands abandoning your waist to slide up your chest and cup your breasts handsomely.

“Mmm,” You leaned into the touch, arched your back and expanded your rib cage so that he might get a better grasp of them. You sighed happily, feeling his morning wood pressing against your inner thigh where your legs were spread around his thick hips, “Speaking of which, it’s Sunday. Will you be making an appearance at the services?”

“I care very little for sermons and would much prefer my worship to take place in…private.” Kylo shook his head, the comparison making you laugh brightly, your head tipping back slightly as you lifted yourself onto your knees above him

“That can be arranged.” You moaned softly, lowering yourself on his hard cock.

He looked unfairly delicious like this, you thought. Every single one of his defined and developed muscles flexed and pulled underneath his scar-ridden skin, it was a sight to behold, the sheen of sweat which made him glow from within.

“Damn, (Y/N), damn you’re gorgeous.” Kylo grumbled, chest tensing and fluttering underneath you. His thighs were enormous, so muscular. Legs perfect for bracketing your own body, with the way they bent at the knee to provide you better leverage.

“Kylo – oh!” You smacked his stomach playfully as he used that leverage to buck up into you, his cock shoving up up up into your pussy, making you yelp out in pleasure. “Oh please, please do that again!”

You’d grown so used to this, this sight underneath you above you behind you around you consuming you – it was the only way you ever wanted to start the day. And so you moaned, not caring of the thickness of the walls, not caring of those passing by your suite en route to church, not caring about uanything other than the feeling of his huge dick filling your pussy. And fill you it did, as he bucked up again and again.

“I – I – oh fuck,” It was too early for filth to drip from his lips, but he didn’t need to say it, not with the way he was panting and grunting and moaning and groaning, his eyes fighting to stay open so he could watch the marvel that was your body moving and grinding and bouncing on him. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

Your knees grew as weak as your cunt was wet when he sat up and kissed your tits, pushed them together and bit at the flesh there, flicked his tongue over your nipple. He moved his hand to clamp down on your neck, pinning you in place as your pussy clenched around his cock, vicelike and unrelenting as you rolled your hips in much the same way the waves smack against the hull of the Titanic.

“Moremoremore – yes!” You hung on to his shoulders, nails digging into the meat of his back, as he tumbled you backwards with a laugh and regained control with this new position.

He clung to you, panted and drooled in your ear and you were unable to stop the moans from tumbling past your lips, for he was so big, filled you so completely. The bed below you squeaked and shook, trembled from the force of his hips as he sought out your gspot.

You moaned out a shout when the head of his cock brushed against it, exploiting that feeling and sending you nearly out of body, shuddering out a gasp as stars fill your vision, not even realizing that his other hand abandoned your nipple to instead rub rub rub at your clit, a hot tongue sliding against yours to swallow your moans.

“God!” Kylo cried, “God yes!” A blaspheme loud and clear, his hot come shooting into you.

Hazy eyed and blissed out, you smiled against his teeth as you could feel it warming you up from the inside. It had grown so cold during the night, but here beneath your husband you were toasty, sweat-slick and in desperate need of a bath.

“Don’t move, please don’t move, not yet, please.” You begged, settled into the mattress underneath him and jus held his body against yours.

“We’ve all the time in the world.” Kylo assured into your neck, taking a mouthful of your throat and biting down hard as he ground his hips against yours, coming inside you still, his muscles aching and burning in the best of ways.

It took some time to regain your breath, but once you did, you lightly patted Kylo’s back and he pulled out with a wince and a groan, the both of you flopping down onto your backs and staring up at the beautifully crown-molded ceiling of the bedroom.

Light spilled in from the port-hole windows, illuminating the side of Kylo’s face in a way that showed off how deep of a gash his face had held. You lifted a shaking hand and gently traced the valley of his browbone, all the way down to his lips where he captured your hand and kissed the palm.

“I’ve invited Miss Rose and Mr. Dopheld to join us for tea today.” Kylo said, when he was finally awake enough for proper sentences.

You smiled, sat up despite your wobbly muscles and stretched.

“Oh I’ll be so glad to see them, I want to hear all about their time on the ship, if it’s been pleasant.” You mused, yawning and sighing happily.

“They’ve got the best accommodations for staff, I’ve made sure of it.” Kylo gave your back a gentle pat just as you had done his, and you knew it meant to come lay back down, but you had other ideas.

“Come, let’s bathe.” You shook your head at him, making him playfully groan and complain all the way next door.

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

When the both of you were clean and dressed for the day, Kylo rang up the staff and gave them the permission to enter the suite. Rose looked beautifully sun-kissed, her dark hair and eyes imbued with warmth. You suspected she had taken the liberty of laying out under the clear skies on one of the lounge chairs Kylo had wound up renting just to have on hand.

Dohpeld on the other hand, was unusually pale, hinting at nearly the entire time spent indoors, which you thought interesting.

You greeted your staff, invited them to the sitting room where Rose brewed a pot of tea for everyone. Only when it was done did you all really begin to relax, everyone seated at the table and enjoying a morning cuppa.

“It’s been quite some time since we’ve all seen one another! Please do tell, have you been enjoying the trip so far?” You asked, knowing it was improper for them to start a conversation of their own accord.

The moment you say the word though, Rose launches into an animated recount of her time between sips of tea.

“Oh Lady Ren it’s an absolute dream! I’ve met so many wonderful people and we’ve all taken to reading in the sunshine – a book club of sorts. It seems many of us have brought along the same novel to carry us through this fine journey, we take turns reading aloud to one another and analyzing the chapters.” Rose told you, making you wonder which book it was that proved to be so popular among the ladies. “I’m particularly interested in the psychological context behind many of the characters’ behavior, it’s been fascinating to discuss. Oh! Also, I went to the baths last night and it was marvelous. Do you think perhaps when we have returned home, you may be inclined to install a bathhouse at the manor, Lord Ren?” She asked hopefully.

“Of course, I hear the baths of Turkey in particular are of excellent health benefits, why should we not have one?” Kylo replied easily, “Why should we not have the very best? We’ll have one installed in the manor and the summer home.”

This made Rose grin in excitement, so much so that she could barely keep a hold of her teacup. It made you happy, to see Kylo so kind to his staff. You thought back to how Rose had said Kylo paid for the entirety of her sister’s expenses when she passed, and were glad to hear his generosity was not a one-off occasion.

“And what of you Mr. Dopheld, have you been smoking cigars and playing poker with the lads downstairs?” You implored, giving him a wink at the sight of his slight pallor.

Color returned to his cheeks then as he blushed.

“Forgive me Lady Ren, I find I’ve been spending much of my time actually among the older women among the first class passengers -- not in any salacious way of course! But I find they’re such an interesting group, and rife with gossip.” Dopheld stammered over himself, only grabbing the acute attention of your husband.

“Do tell.” Kylo encouraged, his expression and tone remaining neutral but the spark in his eyes curious.

“Well, word from the engine room is that because the Titanic is sailing so smoothly, we are set to arrive in New York a day early. Can you imagine that? A ship this large running so smooth that it’s ahead of course!” Dopheld offered, sipping his tea with a mischievous little smirk, “And then there’s of course the matter of the scandals…”

“Dopheld I swear you are worse than a sewing circle.” Rose laughed, and you were inclined to agree, but your husband simply quirked a brow.

“I would like to hear the scandals.” Kylo sipped his own cup, and you sighed with a fond little exasperation that had Kylo shrugging as if to say, what? They talk about us, why should we not talk about them?

“You know that handsome fellow, Quigg Baxter – the one with the eye patch? Well turns out that he, his younger sister, and their mother are all staying somewhere here on B-deck. But hear this, down on C-deck, there’s a young woman by the name of Berthe Mayne. Apparently, he fell in love with her on his family trip to Paris and is bringing her back to the continent with him! His family doesn’t know, she’s even going by an alias.” Dopheld said softly, in case the man in question were listening in.

“Well that’s not so bad.” You offered, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“She’s a prostitute and a cabaret singer.” Dopheld explained, and you found your eyes widening.

“Oh dear.” Was all you could say, because my my, that was something.  

“Oh! And she’s not the only one aboard the ship with an alias, another singing mistress, Leontine Aubart just so happens to be here, and you’ll never guess who she’s with.” Rose piped up then, joining in the fun, her own remark about sewing circles seemingly forgotten. What was a sewing circle to a book club, after all?

“Well you must tell us.” Dopheld gestured with his hand.

“Benjamin Guggenheim – yes that Guggenheim. The married man left his wife behind to take his mistress aboard the Titanic, now that is quite the scandal. They each have separate rooms but everyone knows they’re together, just as we all know she’s expecting; everyone simply has the decency not to say anything about it. There’s a betting pool for whether or not he’ll recognize the child, being that it’ll be illegitimate.” Rose said with a chuckle.

“If I were a gambling man, I’d put money on not.” Kylo said thoughtfully, making you laugh at his encouragement.

“Kylo!” You playfully swatted his arm, and he only grasped your hand and kissed the knuckles, turning those doe-eyes on you.

“I said if, blossom.” He replied, making you shake your head with a grin.

“Oh, do either of you know whether the lifeboat drill is to take place today?” You remembered randomly, “I’ve not yet checked the newsletter.”

“It’s been canceled.” Rose replied, making you and Kylo frown.

“That doesn’t seem like a very good idea, does it?” Kylo asked, but Rose shrugged.

“That’s what we all think too, but according to the staff, the engines are running so smoothly that it would be unproductive to halt them for a good couple hours to lower the lifeboats and raise them all back up again.” She explained, “Plus, it would cut into the Sunday services, and you can only imagine how disgruntled that would leave those participating.”

“That does make sense, I suppose.” You muse, although it doesn’t sit right with you.

Why did it matter that the Titanic was going so smoothly? Everyone’s plans were already set for the scheduled arrival – and besides, a day early wouldn’t mean a day sooner off the boat. They’d simply sit in the harbor for another twenty-four hours, what difference did it make?

“Besides, according to the staff they already did a lifeboat drill prior to accepting passengers and departing from Southampton, and it went -- pardon my pun -- swimmingly.” Rose continued, quite pleased with her little remark.

“That’s very good then.” Kylo didn’t seem bothered by any of this at all any longer, and shifted onto other things. “Now, I’ve called you here because while I do truly value your company and your insights into the goings on of the ship, I wanted to get your opinion on a new detail for our arrival in New York.”

“I thought it was all planned out, my Lord.” Dopheld asked, but Kylo shrugged.

“It is, I just thought we might add a stop or two, extend the trip by a week perhaps.” He turned to you, “Niagra Falls has been on my mind for quite some time, I think our beautiful Lady would be amazed by its rush and power. What do you say?”

You let the thought of the lifeboats leave your mind for the time being, happy to instead imagine the wonders of nature. You nodded, and Dopheld gave a short nod in response.

“I will see who I may need to contact to make the arrangements the moment you depart for your stroll, my Lord.” The footman made a note of it on a small pad of paper he kept on his person, and you admired his preparedness.

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

The stroll in question was a way that you liked to end each day, just before dinner. No matter what you had decided to fill the day’s activities with, it was a wonderful opportunity to wind down in preparation for what would no doubt be an exciting evening. Between the dinner parties and dancing, the gambling, the smoking and drinking, well. You could use a few moments of peace when you could get them.

You were indulging in the stroll now, arm in arm the way that’s so scandalous, tucked against one another. Out on the Boat Deck this time, as opposed to the Promenade or Veranda, you enjoyed the only truly open area of the ship. It’s cold, but you’re wearing a grand coat made of Persian lamb’s wool and soft mink fur, so if there was a chill in the air, you certainly didn’t feel it.

“You know my darling, I’m finding that of all the past times aboard the ship, these moments alone with you are my most cherished.” You said, making him blush.

You liked being on the Boat Deck, for it was a place where first and second class passengers could both enjoy the sights of the sea. There were benches available for sitting and discussion, as well as quoits boards set up. You watched happily as a group of children entertained themselves with a round or two, laughing jovially as they each made scores.

“Is that so? More fun than watching horseshoes?” Kylo took notice of your interest in the second-class goings ons, and you only shook your head, grinned.

“Infinitely.” You both came to a stop at the very edge of the Boat Deck, where the railings were the only thing separating you from the skies, the sea.

You and Kylo stood side by side at the railing, one of his arms wound around your waist protectively. Your fur hat was not so large that it prevented you from resting your head atop his shoulder like you had become so tempted to do at all times, and you’re glad for it.

Maybe it was the sight of the sun beginning to set, maybe it was the endless expanse of the ocean, you couldn’t tell, but something in your husband grew wistful. You could see it in his eyes when he pressed a kiss to your temple and sighed.

“You can ask me anything you know,” He said, “Anything at all. I’ll answer you truthfully, about all of it.”

You know what he meant.

Over the course of the four days together aboard this ship, you had talked about everything under the sun. Politics, social ethics, finances, history, likes and dislikes – everything…except for,

“Why did you go to Africa?”

It was a gentle question for a violent past. One that you’d been avoiding out of respect for your husband, much like the discussion of the circumstances that had given him the scar adorning his face. But unlike the scar, you had no knowledge of his time in the continent, and you wanted to know to satisfy your own curiosity, and to get a better sense of the man your husband was.  

“Because they told me to.” He replied, not looking at you, eyes cast out towards the ocean. “It was an order, and I followed it. Had I not gone, they would have stripped me of my fortune.”

“Who?” You prompted.

“The King and Queen. I come from a powerful yet politically notorious family, you don’t need to follow the gossip to know this. My mother, she has been a great opposition to the crown for some time, and my father…” You could tell the mention of the man was a sore subject, simply from the way he grit his teeth together and clenched his jaw momentarily. “When he was alive he was nothing but a debtor, an embarrassment. I had to do something to regain the crown’s trust, and when they presented me with an order to Africa and lead a battalion against a group of rebels to secure British hold on the colonies, I took it.”

You thought that over for a long time, contemplative as the gentle breeze tousled Kylo’s hair.

“I’m not against war, you know. I know that feels hypocritical of me, as much of my causes are on the foundations of justice. But justice doesn’t always equate to peace. I’m very against it, the New Imperialism.” You clarified, “You must know that I don’t condone it at all, the stealing of lands from people, the claiming it all as our own. But war, well. Humanity has always been at war. It just depends on whether the war is worth fighting.”

Kylo regarded you with an awe, an interest you’d never seen before. Was he so convinced you’d throw him overboard at the admission?

“Was it…I mean, did you…” You tried to frame the question but fall flat.

“I killed many people, if that’s what you’re asking. I slaughtered an entire village, all on my own.” He knew what you meant, and he spoke coolly when he gave you the answer you had been expecting. You weren’t surprised when he continued, “They gave me a medal for it, gave me two. Men, women, children. And I felt little to no remorse, why should I? They were just people standing in the great Empire’s way. Now of course, I am haunted by them, but what can I do – the deeds have been done, and they were done proudly. Part of me is still proud.”

“I do not condemn you for the things you have done. I understand that some things are bigger than us.” You placed your hand over his on the railing where you both leaned against.

“And if there were ever such a thing bigger than this,” Kylo took the hand you offered, held it gently, “I would not know it.”  

You’re not sure if he means you, or Africa.

“This scramble is going to launch us into a war, it cannot end any other way.” You whisper, for the wind could carry such words if spoken any louder, “A global incident, I fear. The colonial lobbyists are growing tense, and that tension may soon explode. I hear the stories, great and grand weapons like that of our Lord Hux, weapons that will be unleashed simply because they are too impressive to be kept hidden any longer. The world is itching for war, itching to show these weapons off.”

“You’re right.” Kylo agreed, trying to make sense of you, trying to figure out how you were the perfect woman. “Germany in particular has been growing more and more aggressive with the British relations. It is strange, how this back and forth with Germany has pushed Britain and France closer together – an unlikely alliance, given our history. But where we stand now, France and Britain know they are the largest powerhouses of warfare. There will be war, and it will be the ugliest thing the planet has ever seen, and our friends will grow exorbitantly wealthy from it.”

“You said Lord Hux is a friend and business partner, does this mean we will too?” You asked suddenly thinking, suddenly remembering the conversation all those evenings ago.

“Yes.” Kylo answered, before steeling himself with, “Do you hate me?”

“If there is a war to come no matter what we do, and if people will die either way, surely it makes the most sense – morally and financially, to be on the most just side, does it not? If someone is to profit, let it be us, who can use that money to push back into our causes, rather than someone who would simply hoard the wealth.” You put him at ease, “I do not hate you, I think you are smart. You won’t go though, when the war starts, will you?”

A sudden pang of pain hit you at the thought, at the thought of him out in the field somewhere being shot at and shooting once again.

He sighed, ran a hand through his long locks. In the setting sun, he looked so vulnerable, so small then.

“If I didn’t have you, yes, I would have.” He was sincere, and that saddened you too much to bear.

“But you do have me.” You said, and he frowned.

“Do I? Even knowing this about me, do I still have you?” Kylo whispered, reaching his other hand across to cup your cheek.

“When was it, your time in Africa?” You nuzzled into it, sighed.

“Ten years ago.” Kylo recounted, “Second Boer War. I was stationed in the Orange Free State in South Africa during the final phase from September of 1900 to May of 1902.”

“Ten years is a long time. You were eighteen then, following someone else’s orders.” You turned your hand in Kylo’s and kept eye contact when you pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to his palm, “I hope that from here on out, the only orders you follow are mine.”

His eyes darkened, and you felt the thrill of danger swoop through you. Not danger in fear of him, but of what the two of you could wreak havoc on together.

“I am not loyal to anyone more than I am to you, not even the crown. I know it has not been long that we’ve known each other, but I hope that in time I can prove this to you. My compliments of your person have not been for show, I find you genuinely and sincerely incredible and it would be an honor to carry out your wishes.” Kylo’s tone was so serious that your heart beat quicker, knowing how truthful he was, how honest thrilled you.

“I know it cannot be easy, reliving and remembering the things you’ve done. But I don’t think you any less of a gentleman for it, and all we can do is move forward. You fought for the crown, fought for your family name, and in a way, you fought for us.” You hoped to convey your loyalty as well, in the lifetime to come.

Kylo stepped away from the railing then, offered you his arm. The two of you needed to keep moving, otherwise you’d fall chilly despite your beautiful coat. You took his arm and smiled, walked with him around the deck.

“No one has ever considered me with such kindness the way you do.” Kylo said, not for the first time.

“I should hope not, for I am your wife, not them.” You replied, a playful and loving smile hopefully setting his nerves at ease.

“Yes, you are, and I am forever in your debt.” Kylo chuckled, like an embarrassed schoolboy being caught in a trivial prank, “I have to admit, when I was told of our arrangement all those years ago, I…kept tabs on you.”

“Oh?” You raised a brow with a grin, and oh he truly blushed now!

“Not anything overt, of course, but just. If you happened to throw a function I would inquire how it went, if you were happy. Your happiness is of great importance to me, it always has been. You could have been cruel as the others are, you could have participated in the condemnation of my actions as so many have, and yet you didn’t.” He grew shy, bashful. “I was fascinated by that, you know. Part of me wanted you to gossip, just so I could know what you thought of me.”

“You could have just asked me.” You shook your head with a laugh.

“No I couldn’t have, you are far too beautiful, I clam up when you’re around.” He smiled.

Just then, some of the children playing quoit ran around you, cutting you off. If it had been an adult Kylo would have surely had words with them, but one cannot deny the sound of children laughing put everything in a better mood.

“If this is how talkative you are when you’re clammed up, I can’t wait to hear your ramblings when you’re at ease.” You teased, before sighing and gesturing towards those kids who had disappeared around a corner, their laughter echoing after them. “I envision a long and happy life together, you know. I envision lots of children and sprawling estates and great political debates, side by side. We’ll show them, we’ll show all of them the true power you possess.”

“I cannot tell if your passion is for peace or blood.” Kylo hummed playfully, squeezing your arm in his.

“You cannot get one without the other.” You shrugged, before letting out a dramatic sigh. “But as much as I would love to continue this introspective conversation, I’d like to shift to more pleasant topics if we may? If we are to dine with the Huxes again this evening, I’ll need as many of my wits as I can spare.”

“Of course blossom, of course.” Kylo grinned and nodded then, humoring you and grateful for the break in heavy conversation in his own right. “Should I comment on the weather? How chilly it has become in only a few short days.”

You made a show of bundling up your coat and shivering with a laugh.

“Rose was telling me that it’s supposed to get freezing tonight!” You recalled from another little conversation during tea that morning.

“Perhaps we can sneak down to the boiler rooms, that would surely keep you warm. What do you say? After dinner we can continue our tour of the ship to her very depths.” Kylo rounded the corner along with you, took a quick peek from either direction and gently pushed you up against the wall of the little compartment that provided you cover.

You grinned and bit your lip, breathed in the warm exhale he puffed across your cheek as he leaned in, crowded your space as he had the very first day aboard the ship.

“I daresay it sounds like a marvelous idea, I’m incredibly interested in how such a ship as this runs – especially if it is running as smoothly as Dopheld claims.” You teased, for that surely was not the only reason you wanted him there.

“You’ll be a sight for the engine workers’ sore eyes, that’s for certain.” Kylo nodded diplomatically, “And I might have a note or two in my pocket which could bribe them to look the other way for some time. I had a dream last night, of taking you up against one of the walls where no one would know if the steam was from our bodies, or the ship.”

“I find I’m suddenly desperately parched.” You whisper, eyes already closing as you ask, “May I have a sip of the sweet nectar from your lips?”

You drink from one another’s mouths until the sun firmly sets beyond the horizon, and the bugle is called for dinner time – and then you kiss some more.

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

Dinner, as always, was eventful. The food was good and the company better, you and Lady Hux once again having the floor to command the conversation while the men at the table simply listened and enjoyed your smart banter and retellings of stories that had the whole section listening in with hearty laughter.

Laughter which continued through bottles of champagne and beers, leaving everyone in a pleasant bubbly mood.

Such a pleasant mood in fact, that the four of you now found yourselves in the first class Smoking Room, participating in a very intense game of strip poker.

It would seem that cunning though he was, Lord Hux was having quite the streak of bad luck this evening. The poor man was down to his undershirt, drawers and sock-garters, whereas your husband still managed to somehow have his pants buttoned up nicely. Much more scandalously though, were the state of you and Lady Hux, who were in equal amounts of undress.

The four of you sat around the table in the Smoking Room, piles of clothes haphazardly thrown about in laughing fits as Hux dealt the next hand. And, true to the room’s name, everyone participated in a vice of some sort. Kylo and Hux preferred a fat cigar each, where you and Lady Hux shared a long thin cigarette, such a sight that would surely give your parents a heart attack if they were to ever see it.

But in the room your parents were not, so you allowed yourself this bit of fun. Hux seemed to be sobering up enough to shuffle the cards properly, and you used it as an opportunity.

“Lord Hux, I do believe when we first dined together you were more than inclined to speak about some weapons which you’ve designed.” You prompted, lazily leaning against Kylo’s side, your bare shoulder from lack of shirtwaist brushing against his own.

“Quite right.” Hux replied, cigar between his teeth.

“And as your illustrious wife had pointed out, perhaps the reception room was not the right time nor place for such discussions.” You grinned at your friend who grinned back, as you all accepted your cards for this round. “But as we are all in a sense, laying bare this evening, I thought you might indulge an interested party.”

Hux hummed over his cards, smoked while the three of you watched.

“Imagine this,” He painted a picture, “A vehicle designed with bullet proof walls, thick and made with impenetrable steel. Bullets bounce off of its body and ricochet into enemy bodies, as the rolling wheels crush barbed wire, drown soldiers into the mud. But it is not a defensive machine, no! Strapped to the side is a canon like those on the sides of warships, loaded and reloaded by soldiers inside, soldiers ready to pour out with weapons of mass destruction all their own.”

“Guns?” You asked, and Hux only laughed.

“Not just any guns, automated guns, guns which fire multiple rounds per minute – per second. Razing down an entire battlefield in the time it takes to blink, and then blowing said field to smithereens when you’re done.” He was so passionate, you found yourself drawn in.

“You’ve designed such a weapon?” Your eyes widened, finding the awe in the image terrible and exciting.

“I’ve designed those and more.” Hux answered, “We will bring victory to the Empire with these new advancements, should they be needed in the future.”

“’Should.’” Lady Hux snorted out a laugh, “My darling and I are convinced that the time for war will be soon upon us. That is the reason we are aboard the Titanic, we have secured a meeting with some heads of American government security, in the attempt to…rub elbows a bit.”

“Good luck, the Americans are so strongly against war that they’ll never agree to it.” Now it was Kylo’s turn to scoff as he flipped his cards over, showing a very impressive hand. “They’re not like the lobbyists frothing at the mouth for more battle.”

Lady Hux wasn’t too big a fan of that, and she tossed down her less-than-impressive hand with a huff.

“If I have to hear their rampant defense of enslavement once more I’m going to simply open fire upon the entire lot of them!” She rolled her eyes, “I personally think this is an attempt at recovering from the disaster that was the good ol’ U-S-A. The crown must be embarrassed, even after all this time to attempt to dominate another indomitable continent.”

“You think Africa will be indomitable?” Kylo asked curiously.

“I know it will, as it should be. Is the Empire not big enough already? Britain is greedy, as are the lobbyists. That is their hubris, and it will be their eventual downfall. We could have settled with what we had but yet, we always need more. How are we to be a great nation when we throw innocents in concentration camps? It is despicable what has happened in Africa, and the world will surely pay for it.” Her grand speech inspired you, even if it was a tad hypocritical given her own political gaining.

“But we are not the only country attempting to secure our hold, nor have we been for a long time.” You pointed out, “France, Russia, Germany, Portugal – they all have pieces of countries in their clutches. They are just as greedy, if not more. Speaking of countries, I’m surprised the Americans will even bother to give you the time of day – wasn’t it only a couple of decades ago that they had that bloody civil war, a conflict caused by their own imperialism and consequences of the enslavement of those from Africa?”

“Maybe, but they are young and they are hungry, this much is true.” Hux put down his cards, making you grimace for a slight moment or two before you schooled your expression. Thankfully, no one was paying attention, as Hux continued, “And we have more than enough fruit to share.”

“We do, don’t we?” You mused with a sigh, “Kylo told me about the partnership, I’d like you to know I’m not opposed to it. In fact, I think it’s very smart what you’re doing, if perhaps a little devious. I would much rather us have these great killing machines than another nation who might turn them against us – although they no doubt have killing machines of their own, I’m sure.”

And finally, you put down your cards, eliciting a whoop and a cheer from your friends when it became clear you had the worst hand of the round. You all laughed and smoked and you were a good sport about it,

“You’d be correct, we can only hope ours are bigger and make more of a boom. And now my friend, I believe you must remove your corset cover.”

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

The hiss and clang of the boiler rooms greeted you before the heat did, but the moment it does, it is sweltering. A maze of wrought iron stairs and grate walkways seemed to stretch on forever into the bowels of the ship, and looking down down down it made you almost dizzy.

You had ventured to the depths of the Titanic after the game of strip poker concluded with your friends bidding you adieu to go indulge in one another, and you and Kylo took the opportunity to do the very same.

“Kylo…are you sure this is safe?” You whispered to your husband, nervous in a strange way that you hadn’t been before.

“Of course it’s safe, look there are workers all around us.” Kylo gestured to the men walking the pathways with ease, not even jumping when the steam erupted from valves like some great tea kettle. “They would not be down here if it were dangerous, in fact, this is likely the safest place aboard the whole ship.”

“Oh? And why is that?” You regard your husband’s cheeky grin with a little smile of your own, as he collected you up in his embrace.

“Because you’re here in my arms.” He whispered, kissing your cheek.

“You charmer,” You laughed, covering your mouth. The echo was wild down here, the noises all bouncing around the big machines. You lowered your voice to a whisper so you wouldn’t get caught, knowing full well that even if you did, Kylo could bribe them away. “I don’t think I want to go any further down though, if that’s alright. It’s so smoky down there, and I want to see you clearly.”

Kylo simply nodded, tipped your head up by a pinch of your chin, and kissed you.

You didn’t think you’d ever get over this, the thrill of kissing Kylo. He was so good at it, and you were pleased to know you were good at it too. The both of you leaning into one another, tasting one another, savoring your tongues like expensive wine, learning and growing from the reactions you were able to pull.

He wound a hand into your hair and gripped tightly at your neck, your skull tingling and making you grin against his mouth as your hands worked to unbutton his hastily done trousers. What a sight you must have been, a less than pristine example of first class elegance gone debauched.

His cock is hard in your hand, and when he realizes what you’re doing he moans into your mouth, begins hiking up all your many layers of skirt and petticoat to get to your hot pussy, so wet for him, for the very thought of him.

You thought back to that morning, how the sex had been gentle and sweet. You’re hoping that down here in the depths of the boiler room, it is aggressive, dirty, rough.

But then – Kylo stopped.

There was a lurch, a jolt of the ship.

You whined for a moment, too wrapped up in your own pursuit of pleasure, annoyed that this has stopped before it had a chance to even begun.

“What was that?” Kylo’s hand retracted from your skirts, rushing to the railing of the metal stairs, shouting to the workers below, “Does anyone know what that was?”

There is a jumbled response which summed up to we don’t know.

“Nothing, just a bump in the night I’m sure – ” You tried convincing him to return his mouth to yours, but he shook his head, adamant.

“No, no blossom,” He went still, trained his ear to the walls. “Something feels wrong, listen, do you hear that?”

You follow him to the wall, press your ear against it, when suddenly, you feel the freezing cold of dread hit your very veins.

“I’m – I’d like to go back up to our rooms now, now Kylo, please.” You whispered, and he does not hesitate to yank you up the stairs in a scrambled rushing run.

Because though you were in the middle of the ship, though you were not near or close to the waves, what you heard when you pressed your ear to the wall…

Was water.

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

:^)

Tagging some pals! 

@kyloxfem​ @heldcaptivebychaos​  @solotriplets​ @formerly-anonhamster​ @lookinsidemyhead​ @candycanes19​ @adamsnacc-kler​ @taylovren-types @whiskey-bumblebee​ @magikevalynn​ @tinyplanet-explorers​ @chelsjnov​ @romancedeldiablo​ @helloimindelaware​ @elfieboxcat​ @laurenshit​ @autumnlovesadam​ @peterisparker​  @goodboybensolo​​ @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic​​ @miasera​​ @emily-strange​​ @proxyfoxy​​ @disaster-rose​​ @hazydespair​​ @yosoymuyloca​​ @1-800-choke-that-snoke​​ @ktellmeastory​​ @anongirl007​​ @zimmerxman​​ @okk–maaan @flapjacques​​ @thepilotanon​​ @aweirdlookingtree​​ @callmemania-pls​​ @runhbo​ @theold-ultraviolence​

[raleighcarrera]

different

the royal romance | drake walker x mc (riley brooks)

~16.9K | mature language and themes/suggestive scenes (18+)

if we'd met somewhere else… anywhere else. at a club in new york, or in an airport, or at a party…

...do you think things would have been different?

drake and riley meet at a frat party in college. they’re not, like, dating dating, okay? they just... party together, and study together, and sleep together every night. and he thinks about her a lot. and then there’s an assassination attempt on his best friend, and drake has to go back to cordonia. a fluffy look at scenes from a drake x riley LDR that becomes just a plain old R when he invites her to spend the summer with him at the palace.

*

someone was banging on his door. impatiently, the knocks increased in volume and frequency, until it was an almost continuous stream of thump - thump - thump, ruining his morning. it was too early for this. it was sunday, for chrissakes, and they’d been out so very late the night before. resolving to ignore whoever it was, drake shoved his face further into his pillow, grimacing when the movement stuffed his mouth full of long, curled hair. from beside him, riley groaned loudly.

“i will kill whoever that is,” she threatened, elbowing him in the arm. drake winced; her voice was low and gravelly, but it still made his head throb. “if that’s fucking simmons and pierce trying to be funny i will kill them, drake, and i won’t feel bad. make it stop.”

he heaved a loud sigh and slowly sat up in bed. the movement made his head spin, and he wondered if riley felt as deathly hungover as he did. if she was suffering even half as badly as he was, it was a miracle she had the presence of mind to threaten anyone like that -- but that was his riley. a multitasker.

drake stumbled to the door in his boxers, flinging it open with irritation. “what?”

it wasn’t simmons and pierce. it wasn’t anyone who lived at the frat house.

it was leo.

drake gaped at him, completely in shock. “hello, drake,” he said, which, on its own, was already a lot to process. drake wondered what time it was, and if he’d managed to get more than four hours of sleep since the record-breaking keg stand he’d pulled off the night before. 

before he could say anything, riley strolled up beside him, the sheet from his bed wrapped around her. her eyes were squeezed shut tightly, one hand holding up the sheet and the other fumbling for the door frame. “we don’t want any breakfast,” she huffed, “it’s not even eleven yet, what the fuck is wrong with --”

“riley.” drake put his arm out, stopping her from slamming the door in leo’s face. he glanced nervously at liam’s brother, flushing when he saw that leo was looking back and forth between the both of them, his grin wide with delight. 

finally, she opened her eyes. her mouth dropped open into a round o of surprise, and drake grimaced as she adjusted the sheet under her arms. “what’s going on?”

this was not the conversation he wanted to have now, when it already felt like his head was going to split in two. “it’s kind of a long story...”

“indeed,” leo said grimly, stepping into drake’s bedroom and closing the door behind himself. riley managed to look both confused and pissed off as she walked to drake’s dresser and bent low towards the bottom drawer. 

leo arched an eyebrow at him as she dug around inside of it and then stepped into the bathroom. drake was silent as she turned the shower on, feeling his whole face go red. “i didn’t give her the drawer,” he felt compelled to defend, “it was empty and she noticed and put her stuff in it. it wasn’t like -- i didn’t say, here, have a drawer.”

the expression on leo’s face looked as though he was doing everything he could to avoid smiling. “we can talk about that on the plane.”

plane? “is everything alright? what are you doing here, anyway?” his stomach sank as he considered all the reasons why leo, of all people, might show up at his college. “did something happen to liam?”

leo sighed, and for the first time, drake noticed how tired he looked. “everyone is fine. but... something did happen. look, you need to come back to cordonia. tonight.”

*

riley watched him shrewdly from his unmade bed as he frantically stuffed his suitcase full of clothes. she was eating a burrito, but for once, he couldn’t be bothered to tell her off for doing it in bed. it’s not like it mattered if she got crumbs in his sheets anyway, after today. “give it to me one more time,” she said between bites.

he sighed with obvious frustration. “liam is the crown prince of cordonia,” he explained, as though he were talking to a toddler. he looked at her over his shoulder and waited for her to nod before he continued. “cordonia is where i grew up. liam is my best friend.”

“and the guy who was here is his brother.”

“yes.”

“but he’s not important.”

“he’s -- leo abdicated awhile ago. he’s important enough.”

“so the person who got shot --”

“no one actually got shot,” he interjected, pulling out his sock drawer and emptying the entire thing into his suitcase in one go. 

“then why do you have to go?” 

drake turned and met her eyes. god did she look pretty, sitting in his unmade bed in just one of his t-shirts, her hair wet and curling over her shoulders. he could see the smooth skin of her thighs peeking out from beneath the hem and let himself yearn, for a moment, to stop what he was doing entirely and crawl back into bed with her.

was it so selfish, if he didn’t want to go? 

“because liam needs me. he’s always been there for me, and now i need to be there for him.”

“okay -- sure,” she said, in a way that definitely meant that she didn’t agree with him, “but -- withdrawing from school? in the middle of midterms? so you can go do -- what, exactly? what’s your role over there?”

drake rubbed at his forehead with annoyance. “i don’t know, riley, professional best friend? does it matter?”

“don’t get mad at me,” she snapped, glaring at him, “you’re the one who never told me about any of this.”

“because i wanted to be normal!” riley frowned, her eyes still narrowed from her position on the bed. “i didn’t want to be prince liam’s friend. i didn’t want anyone here to know. and i didn’t realize i had to share my life secrets with every sorority girl i hook up with.”

his eyes shut as soon as the words left his mouth. he regretted them instantly, and he didn’t want to see what her face was doing. “riley...”

drake dared to let himself look at her. she’d stopped chewing, and she was staring at him as though she’d never seen him before. hurt flashed over her face lightning fast and then disappeared. “go to hell.” 

“riley, listen --” she stood up and angrily started getting dressed in her own clothes, whipping his shirt over her shoulder so fast he had to duck out of the way. “i didn’t mean --”

riley turned around and threw what was left of her burrito at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. drake watched as it fell down into his open suitcase, sighing at the perfectly round circle of guacamole she left on his shirt. “have fun in budget greece.”

her voice sounded tight. drake winced as he jogged to follow her out of the room, racing down the stairs after her. several of his fraternity brothers politely averted their eyes as she rushed through the hallway and out the front door. 

“riley!” she stomped off down the sidewalk without hesitation.

leo was waiting beside a black town car idling on the curb. he hung up his cell phone as drake slowed to a stop next to him. “ready to go?”

“yep,” he grit out, “just -- one second. i’ll be right back.” 

he ran down the block to catch up to her, grabbing her arm to stop her from getting any farther. “okay, i deserved that,” he allowed, catching his breath, “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean that, i don’t know why i said it.”

“is that how you think of me?” she demanded, her eyes shining in the low light of the street lamps, “some sorority girl you hook up with?”

“no,” he answered emphatically, “this is just -- the weirdest day of my life. please cut me a break, i have no idea what i’m doing.”

she pursed her lips, and then nodded once. “you know, you don’t have to go back there if you don’t want to.”

drake sighed, running a hand through his hair. “yes, i do. i don’t expect you to understand.”

“well, i don’t.” she looked and sounded more upset than he’d ever known her to be, even after last semester when her favorite literature professor tore her critical analysis of great expectations to shreds. “i think it’s bullshit. of course i want you to stay.”

he reached out and put his hands on her arms. “hey, it’s not forever.” without realizing it, his voice had dropped to a reassuring timbre. “the semester will be over in eight weeks. you could come to cordonia for the summer.”

riley exhaled shakily, averting her eyes. fuck. “please don’t cry.”

“i’m not going to cry,” she insisted, sniffling dramatically. “but i just -- i don’t know. it’s going to be weird, not having you around.”

“it’s going to be weird not being around. but it’s barely two months, and then...” his hands rubbed slowly up and down her arms. “you could spend the summer at the palace with me. i’ll take you to the beach, teach you how to ride a horse... show you off to all of my friends...” he could see her softening. “you could work on your writing. think about what a good story it would be.”

riley sniffled again. “that’s true...”

“see? it’s not that bad. plus, you’ll be so busy with your schedule you’ll hardly notice i’m gone.”

she shot him a look that let him know he shouldn’t push his luck. “come on,” drake needled, “smile, brooks.”

she just bared her teeth at him. “a real smile.”

instead of doing what he’d asked, she threw herself at him for a hug, sudden and fierce. drake’s arms tightened around her, and he lifted her up off her feet. she always liked that.

predictably, riley laughed. when he set her back down, she was gripping his shirt tightly in her hands. “don’t be a stranger, okay? get the international cell phone plan.”

drake smiled back at her. “i promise.”

*

to his credit, leo waited until they were almost back to cordonia to ask about riley.

the trip felt longer than he remembered, even with all the comforts of flying private. it felt like he couldn’t get his thoughts in order -- he went from being worried for liam, to annoyed with the situation, to missing riley already so quickly it made him nauseous. 

fortunately, leo had provided a distraction by going over every detail of the assassination attempt with him. drake had peppered him with questions until he’d heard everything twice, and then there was nothing left to do but dwell. 

“i just can’t believe someone would do something like that,” he said again, for what must have been the fourth time. “i can’t imagine how liam must feel.”

“i know. it’s awful.” leo shook his head. a long moment of silence passed between them. drake stared out at the dark void of the sky through the airplane window, cringing when he heard leo start, “so...”

drake was pretty sure he knew exactly where that sentence was headed. “oh, we don’t have to do this.” 

“we really do.” he grinned at drake from his seat across the plane. “come on, i was almost murdered earlier this week. indulge me.”

“fine, but you’re not allowed to do that again for the rest of the month. it’s... not that serious. honestly.”

leo looked at him in disbelief. “she has a drawer.”

“she pulled a hostile takeover of that drawer.” again, his voice was defensive. he sighed. “we met at a party in august, at the start of last semester. we were at the house, in the backyard... she bumped into me. we got to talking... stayed up all night...” he trailed off meaningfully, shrugging at nothing. he could feel his face turning red. “one thing led to another, and now it’s... seven months later and... she’s always around. in a good way.”

“then i’m happy for you, drake.” leo’s smile faltered. “i’m sorry it had to come to this.”

“don’t be. you know i’d do anything for liam. college is terrible, anyway.”

“mmmm.” leo seemed not to believe him. at any rate -- “looks like we’re landing.”

as the plane touched down on the tarmac, he pulled out his phone. his fraternity group text immediately rushed back to life with dozens of incoming text messages, but he ignored it in favor of his thread with riley. she’d texted him hours ago, after they’d already taken off. have a safe flight. don’t do anything stupid

he was already smiling. just landed. tonight’s probably going to be crazy. call me after class tomorrow

as she always did, riley answered nearly immediately. isn’t there a time difference?

he wondered what she was doing. riley always insisted on getting a good night’s sleep on sundays, and they usually parted ways after dinner so she could make her way back to her own apartment to get ready for the week. he’d often found himself blowing up her phone, pestering her for attention while she caught up on the homework she’d neglected over the weekend, holed up in the library or inside her bedroom. 

privately, he let himself wish he were back in boston with her, just for a moment. i’ll wait up.

*

it was hours before he and liam were finally alone. despite the somber mood that filled the palace, everyone seemed... happy to see him, and he spent far too long letting liam get him reacquainted with everything, even though it hadn’t been that long since he’d been home in cordonia, last summer. 

after a final security briefing and one last drink, bastien left them alone in drake’s old bedroom.

“it’s really... good to see you,” liam sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “i’m glad you’re here.”

suddenly, he felt guilty for ever missing boston -- for even entertaining the thought of not coming, for even one second. “of course. i came as soon as i heard, i... would never not be here during something like this.”

liam nodded, his gaze out the window and in the courtyard. “when do you have to go back?”

drake’s brows furrowed. “liam... i’m not going back.”

that startled him. “i thought you had another year before you could graduate?”

he did, but... “it doesn’t matter. i’m not leaving you.”

as he said it aloud, he realized it was the right decision. earlier, when he’d been talking to riley, he hadn’t been so sure, but after tonight... he knew it was his only option. he couldn’t believe things for liam at court had gotten so bad -- that everyone around him had let things get so bad. and now -- an attempt on his life? what kind of best friend would he be if he left liam now? drake knew instantly that if their roles were reversed, liam wouldn’t even hesitate to do what he was about to. 

“you don’t have to do that.” drake watched him pretend like he wasn’t pleased. “i’m fine.”

“well, it’s too late,” drake shrugged simply, “because i already withdrew and moved out all my stuff.” liam still looked uncertain. “hey -- ride or die, right? what did you think i was going to do with a degree in world history, anyway?”

liam barked out a laugh just as drake’s phone buzzed in his hand. it was riley. just wanted to say goodnight

drake mentally tried to calculate the time difference between cordonia and boston, unable to stop himself from from picturing her burrowed into the twin bed in her apartment. there was nothing he loved to complain about more than that stupid, tiny bed, but at that moment, he would’ve given anything to be crammed in it with her. 

liam smiled at him. “is that your girlfriend?”

drake flushed as he put his phone away. “she’s not my girlfriend.”

“that’s not what leo said. come on, i’ve seen her on your pictagram. dark hair? brown eyes?”

drake gave in and nodded. “her name’s riley.”

“i assume you told her... about all of this?”

drake hesitated, then slowly confirmed... “yeah. i invited her to spend the summer here.”

“drake, that’s amazing! i can’t wait to meet her.”

liam’s excitement was infectious. maybe it would be good to have brooks here, after all. she could be a distraction for... all of them, from this mess. she was good at that. she was the only person drake knew that could effortlessly pull him out of one of his sulking bad moods, just by being herself. so -- around this place? she’d be a welcome breath of fresh air.

he nodded, finding that he couldn’t wait, either. 

remembering her text, he pulled out his phone again. night, brooks.

*

“drake,” maxwell practically screamed from the other side of the room, “get. off. the phone! we’re about to start a dance off.”

drake ignored him. riley had sent a photo of herself pouting at a sig chi pregame. i hate hanging out here without you

he bet she’d already had a few too many, despite the fact that it was still early in boston. below that text, she’d written, come homeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

miss me that much already? there was no denying how good that felt. 

the party going on around him hardly interested him. he was only here for liam, after all, and at maxwell’s insistence -- drake hardly thought that something as chaotic as a beaumont bash was what his best friend needed right now, but liam had wanted to come, and so -- there they were. 

the sight of riley’s downturned bottom lip in the photo was drawing him in. missing that hot bod, she’d written back. he snorted.

maxwell had jogged over to where he was standing. “come on, you can talk to her later. she’ll still be awake in a few hours. don’t you want to spend time with your friends, who’ve missed you?”

not really. he wanted to lock himself in the beaumont study and call riley before she left the house for a bar. he wanted to reach her now, before she was too drunk to know she was even talking to him. 

“maxwell, i’m here, aren’t i?” with great self restraint, he slipped his phone into his pocket. “what do you want?”

maxwell slung his arm around drake’s shoulders. “i want you to take some shots with your friends. is that too much to ask?”

he heaved a heavy sigh, pretending to consider it. back in boston, at this hour, riley would already be slamming on the bartop wherever they’d wound up, demanding another round of tequila shots. his lips quirked. he should really have a drink or two in her honor. “alright, alright. lead the way.”

*

it wasn’t long before maxwell had him ridiculously, wonderfully drunk. “okay -- okay. one more.” maxwell had his chin on drake’s shoulder, looking down at the phone between them. “this is her at the a-e-pi luau after she won the hula hoop contest. it was on fire.” 

maxwell gasped as he swiped left to the accompanying video of riley swinging her hips. “that’s so badass.”

there was pride in his voice. “i know, right? she’s the coolest. she’s so good at everything, it’s honestly annoying.”

“i want to meet her!” maxwell exclaimed, as drake continued to swipe through his camera roll. a majority of the photos he had were of riley doing something ridiculous, drunk and pulling silly faces at the camera. drake pointedly sped up as he reached the selfies of the two of them she’d insisted upon late one night on the roof of his house. 

without thinking too much about it, he called her on facetime. it seemed simple enough, to his addled brain: maxwell wanted to meet her, and he wanted to talk to her. more than that, he wanted to look at her. 

riley declined his call, though, making him frown. a second later, she’d texted one sec !! lemme go outside !!

her beautiful face came into view within moments. behind her, drake could see the main street lit up with activity, the college bars they’d used to frequent coming alive in the distance. riley was grinning -- she had glitter on her cheeks. “babyyyyyyyyy!” she exclaimed, throwing her arm up. she was drunk.

“hey, you.” maybe he was too drunk for this, too. “don’t you look nice.”

riley beamed, pulling the phone in close. “i miss you.”

from his shoulder, maxwell sighed. “awwww, stop it. i’m going to get a cavity.”

“riley, this is maxwell. maxwell, riley.” he angled the phone to let maxwell in frame. immediately, he waved wildly at her. 

“hi! drake seriously does not stop talking about you. it’s so cool to finally see you!”

riley smiled widely at him. “he talks about me?”

“oh, yeah. every five minutes, he’s all -- riley would love hiking here. riley’s read that book, she said it was good. riley’s the reason i had to stop drinking vodka. it’s seriously --”

“okay, that’s enough.” he put the phone back on his face. “i might’ve mentioned you once or twice.”

maxwell scoffed loudly from beside him, but all of his focus was on the way riley giggled from the screen. his heart was pounding. they’d talked on the phone every night for the last four weeks, but this was the first time he was seeing her outside of photos or social media. for the life of himself, he couldn’t understand why they hadn’t done this sooner. 

“you staying out of trouble, brooks?”

“well, duh! my partner in crime totally ditched me!”

maxwell was waving his arms beside him. “hey, liam! riley’s on the phone! drake’s girlfriend!”

drake reached his free hand out to push maxwell away. “shut up.”

riley was laughing wildly on the screen. “is that what you told them? that i’m your girlfriend?”

he rolled his eyes. “more like that’s what they told me.” his gaze softened. “i can’t wait until you get here.”

“me too, drake walker. you have no idea how much this place is starting to suck.”

suddenly, liam appeared behind him. “is this the riley we’ve heard so much about?”

she gasped theatrically. “you must be liam. you look like a liam.”

liam grinned, leaning down closer to the phone. “got it in one. it’s great to meet you. you’re every bit as pretty as drake said you were.”

riley laid a hand on her heart, miming like she was swooning. drake elbowed liam good-naturedly. “hello, i’m still here.”

riley winked at him. moments later, maxwell crowded in on drake’s other side, squishing into the frame. “riley, when you get here, we’re going to party so hard,” he promised. she seemed to like the sound of that.

“you guys are so lucky drake’s there hanging out with you,” she sighed, pouting into the camera again, “he’s the world’s best drinking buddy.”

maxwell’s eyes looked like they were going to bulge out of his head. “drake? our drake? this one right here?”

drake rolled his eyes, but riley didn’t seem to pick up on his sarcasm. “yeah! we’re unofficial beer pong champions at sig chi. and i’m not playing with anyone else until you come back. we’re not gonna be dethroned that easily.”

he winced, aware of the look maxwell and liam were exchanging behind his back. so -- he hadn’t exactly told her, yet, that he wasn’t planning on coming back for his senior year. but he was going to, okay? he just thought it was a conversation they’d be better off having in person. 

he scoffed with false bravado. “as if any of those clowns could dethrone us, anyway.”

“i’m saying,” she agreed, spinning around on the sidewalk. he watched as she slowed to a stop at the corner, and then sighed. “will you walk me home?”

drake nodded, looking around the ballroom for a quiet corner. “you sure? it’s gotta be pretty early there.”

“i want us to be alone.” instantly, he could feel his face flushing. maxwell and liam laughed from beside him.

“i think that’s our cue,” liam said politely, reaching out to grab maxwell’s arm and pull him away. “nice to meet you, riley.”

“yeah -- get over here soon!” maxwell shouted, waving enthusiastically again. 

drake was already heading off towards the study. he slipped inside, unnoticed, and closed the door behind him. riley was humming as she crossed the street, the signal and the darkness making her blurry on his screen. “did you have fun?” he asked, “where’d you guys go? sam’s?”

she nodded, the glitter on her cheek reflecting in the moonlight. “uh huh, but it was beat. the pregame was way better.” riley wrapped her free arm around herself, pulling her jacket in tighter. a moment of silence passed between them. “it’s weird not sleeping at the house.”

“i know. i think all the bruises i had from you kicking me in the shins every night have finally faded.”

riley laughed loudly as she ducked inside her building, tapping her id card to unlock the main door. “shut the fuck up. i only sleep-kicked you because you were a blanket hog.”

“we both know that’s honestly just not true.” her building was loud as groups of students prepared to go out, the night early enough that people were just now thundering down the stairs and heading for the door. he watched riley stab at the elevator button with amusement. “seriously? you live on the second floor.”

“mind your own business,” she snarked back at him as she slipped inside, “this elevator is for people in boston only. if you want to have an opinion, you’re going to have to leave europe.”

god, did he miss her. “you got your flight info, right? i gave liam your email so he could set it up.”

she nodded slowly as she stepped out into the hallway. drake watched her wobble adorably towards her front door, and heard her fumbling with her keys. “uh huh. m’already counting down the days. ‘til you pick me up at the airport and i can jump on you.”

drake sunk down into one of the leather armchairs in front of the bookshelves. “is that right?” 

riley moved out of frame briefly as she struggled to get her jacket off. he heard the telltale sound of her kicking off her shoes, and then she bounced down onto her bed, making the old mattress creak. her face finally lit up as she leaned over and turned on her bedside lamp. 

“yup.” her excitement was contagious. “i can’t wait to see you in person. ‘cause i can’t believe it’s been a month already and i haven’t gotten a single picture of you.”

“you want pictures, eh?” he grinned, mentally flipping through the catalog of images riley had been sending him. he’d hardly had time to wonder what she was doing, her selfies had been so thorough. “like the ones you’ve been sending me? because i’m a lot less exciting than you are, brooks. liam and i spend most of our time here doing nothing.”

“noooo...” she laid back against the bed, flopping down against the pillows. “i want you to be naked.” 

drake barked out a laugh, shaking his head at her. “i am not sending you a nude from maxwell’s house.”

“why not?” she whined, batting her eyelashes. “i want to see your abs. i forget what they look like.”

he smirked at her, leaning back in the armchair. “now you know how i feel about your boobs.” 

her eyes narrowed. drake swallowed hard -- he was very familiar with that particular glint in her eyes. deliberately, riley pulled her shirt up and over her head. 

she was wearing a simple, lacy white bra. drake stared at her as she sat up and reached behind her back to unclasp it. “brooks...” he said warningly, his voice low. “i’m at a party.”

“so go home.” she mimicked his voice in a way that made him roll his eyes at her, just like every other time she busted out her winning impression of him that, in drake’s opinion, sounded nothing like him.

“i can’t, we’re all staying over.” and if she got him hard in the beaumont study he didn’t think he’d ever be able to come back in here again. he’d have to find a new place to hide out from the rest of court.

“then go to your room,” riley countered, shifting like she was going to wiggle out of her skirt. 

drake averted his eyes desperately, trying to think about anything else. he was officially too drunk for this. “can’t we just talk about something else?”

riley groaned. when drake dared to look at her, she was frowning. “why?” she demanded, “why can’t we get each other off? don’t you miss me?”

“brooks, of course i miss you.” he sighed. sometimes it seemed like over the last few weeks he’d done nothing but miss her. he couldn’t help but to imagine every mundane detail of the summer ahead of them, from camping out under the stars to getting lost in the hedge maze together. 

but riley still looked hurt. “well, it seems like you don’t.”

“riley...” he was trying not to stare at her. “come on. everyone here is fucking sick of me because i’m always either on my phone, talking about you, or annoyed because i didn’t get enough sleep because i was talking to you. these people know more about you than they know about me.”

that shut her up. after a moment, she asked, “...really?”

“really. and i can’t wait until you get here. i want to show you... everything. i want us to wake up in the same place again.”

riley smiled at him. it was the same soft, sleepy smile she used to give him just before their last kiss goodnight. “you should go back to your party. i bet your friends miss you, too.”

he nodded, making no move to hang up or stand from where he was sitting. “you’ll call me tomorrow?”

she yawned, her nose scrunching up childishly. “uh huh. goodnight, drake walker. cutest boy in cordonia. probably.”

the affection he felt for her in that moment was almost overwhelming. drake covered it up with a laugh. “sweet dreams, brooks.”

*

the next four weeks dragged on at an agonizingly slow pace. drake did everything he possibly could to fill his time, but he was hyperaware of every minute leading up to riley’s arrival. it only got worse as the end of the semester drew closer, and he knew that most of his friends were growing tired of him, but couldn’t seem to find it within himself to stop.

he needed to get it together. he had never been so hung up over a girl before, and definitely not one that he wasn’t even dating. 

but... riley was riley, and if she wanted his attention, then she deserved all of it. for some reason, she’d decided to give up her summer for him, and drake wasn’t dumb enough to convince himself she was interested in being in cordonia for any reason other than spending time with him. as scary as it was to admit to himself, he knew the situation would be the same if he’d gone back to texas and she went back to new york at the end of the semester -- just with a cheaper cell phone plan.

so that meant he had to find a way to show her a good time.

...and let her know that he wouldn’t be going back to boston with her in the fall.

easy peasy. sure.

step one was simple enough: all he had to do was pick her up from the airport. 

maxwell had volunteered to drive, which left him with idle hands as they rode out of the capital. he checked his phone restlessly, alternating between staring out the window and up at the ceiling of the car. after he’d sighed for what had to be the fifth or sixth time, maxwell finally said, “drake. relax.”

“i am totally -- relaxed.” he didn’t even sound convincing to himself. “this is... perfectly fine.”

“what could you possibly be nervous about?” maxwell asked. he sounded irritatingly amused. “you already know she likes you.”

“it’s complicated.” over the last two months, he’d done his best to avoid filling in all the gaps regarding their... relationship, if that was even what he would call it, despite maxwell and liam’s persistent questioning. “even if brooks was my girlfriend, or whatever... it’d still be weird, bringing her here.”

“why?”

he really didn’t want to get into it, especially not with maxwell. no one needed to know that he was wildly anxious about bringing a girl he liked around liam, who girls had always preferred over him for pretty much their entire lives. he was comfortable with harboring that insecurity alone until the end of time, thankyouverymuch. 

“i just think that all of this is a lot for anyone to take in. i don’t want it to change things between us.”

there. that was vague and generic enough, while still not being an outright lie. he was worried about things changing between them. he wasn’t sure he could stand to watch riley grow to prefer liam to him.

shaking his head as if to clear it, he looked over at maxwell in time to catch him rolling his eyes at drake. “if anyone knows how to not let this change them, it’s you. i think you’ll be fine.”

drake shrugged silently. maxwell drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

“besides, it’s too late now. she’s already here. so help me find a parking spot.”

drake let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. okay. he could do this. they were still only on step one. 

he stared at maxwell when he got out of the car, too. “you’re coming in with me?”

maxwell looked at him like he was the biggest idiot on the face of the earth. “uh, duh.” he shot finger guns at drake from across the car. “moral support, baby. now come on, stop dragging your feet.”

*

she was taking an inordinately long amount of time to get off the plane.

drake watched as passenger after passenger filed out of the door and into the airport terminal, heading to their next destinations. surely, she was doing it on purpose.

maxwell kicked his ankle, jolting him out of his thoughts. “you need to calm down.”

what was happening to him? he couldn’t recall ever being this nervous, not even around any of the literal royalty or supermodels that seemed to be perpetually following liam (and by default, him) around. maxwell was right. he needed to get a grip.

but then he saw her.

she hadn’t noticed him, yet, so he had a moment to watch her as she stepped out into the airport and looked around curiously. she was struggling with a giant, overstuffed duffel bag, and the sight of her jacket tied around her waist and her hair pulled up off her face made him think that maybe he wasn’t alone in his nerves. she always overheated when she started to panic.

riley turned and saw him, and her face split into a brilliant grin. drake started to make his peace with the fact that it was the last thing he was going to see before he had a stroke and died. as far as untimely demises were concerned -- there were definitely worse ways to go. 

“oh my god,” maxwell mumbled from beside him, “this is so cute, i’m going to cry.”

she pushed through the crowd and rushed the rest of the way up to them. without a word, she dropped her bag on the ground and, as promised, launched herself directly into his arms. 

drake laughed as he caught her, lifting her off her feet. no one had ever told her to act like a lady in case there were photographers around before, so riley wrapped her legs around his waist and held on tight. 

“you’re here,” he said dumbly, hugging her in close. the longest eight weeks of his life had officially come to an end. his throat felt suspiciously tight. “it’s really good to see you.”

riley’s hands were on his shoulders, and she pushed him back enough that she could look at him, still smiling that stupid, goofy grin. her eyes swept his face, and then she leaned in and caught his lips in a hungry, desperate kiss.

drake stumbled briefly, but recovered quickly enough. he squeezed her sides encouragingly, and riley shoved her hands into his hair, kissing him as though they were about to be ripped away for war at any moment.

maxwell coughed pointedly from beside him, breaking the spell. her legs dropped abruptly to the ground with a thud, and then she stood up straight and laughed. she didn’t look embarrassed in the slightest. she took both of drake’s hands in hers and squeezed them. “you have no idea how much i missed you.”

“i think everyone here has some idea,” maxwell mused. “it’s nice to finally meet you in person, riley.”

“likewise.” she turned her unabashed grin on him, then. to his credit, maxwell smiled right back at her. “thanks for taking care of drake while he’s been here.”

maxwell laughed. “trust me, no one here has been taking care of drake. we have a lot to fill you in on.”

drake rolled his eyes as he bent down and hoisted riley’s duffle bag onto his shoulder. he couldn’t quite bring himself to be bothered by maxwell’s remarks, now that she was here. 

riley leaned over and laced her fingers through his as they headed towards the door. huh. she hadn’t done that in... awhile, even back in boston. fuzzy, alcohol-addled memories reminded him that it was halloween, the last time she’d slipped her hand into his, just to lead him around a party.

“this is freaking me out,” maxwell said, as they made their way back to the car. “riley, just so you know -- drake never smiles this much. i don’t think he’s smiled this much in all the time i’ve known him.”

“what? drake totally smiles,” she argued, squeezing his hand. “he smiles all the time.”

“it’s true,” he agreed, completely deadpan. “a man can smile if he wants to, maxwell.”

he opened the door for riley when they reached the car, and she took her bag and slid into the backseat. before he could close it, she reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into another kiss. this time, her lips were much sweeter and softer, and she kissed him like they had all the time in the world to get reacquainted.

maxwell was pretending not to notice as he texted from the front seat. “you’re going to have to stop doing that,” drake murmured lowly, his lips still brushing hers with every word. “or we’re never going to make it back to the palace.”

“hey, you can’t blame me for finding you irresistible.” her fingers hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. “it was a long eight weeks. of course i’m hard up for it.”

he bit back a shiver, swallowing the groan that was threatening. “you can’t possibly imagine what i’m going to do to you later tonight,” he promised, the words spoken lowly into her ear. 

riley’s eyelids fluttered prettily at the same time that maxwell started the car, the sound of the ignition turning over shattering the silence between them. drake shot her a smirk and closed the backseat door, joining maxwell in the front. 

riley immediately slid into the space between the two front seats, leaning over the car’s center console. “so, what’d i miss? you guys have to tell me everything. maxwell, make sure he doesn’t leave anything out. drake is the worst storyteller.”

*

“liam, it was like something out of a movie. you should have seen him.” maxwell’s voice was insistent, and the only reason why drake was tolerating the direction the conversation was going in was because of the way riley was giggling beside him as she rotated her marshmallow over the fire. “it was like aliens replaced drake with a pod person. they made out at the airport.”

liam was laughing at him, too. drake leaned over and threw a marshmallow at him, sighing as he turned his attention back to riley. “look what you did. you’re ruining my reputation.”

she pulled her marshmallow from the fire, blowing on it to extinguish the tiny flame that’d caught on one of the charred edges. she didn’t look sorry when she slid her gaze over to him. “oops?”

he sighed again as he held a graham cracker out to her. it was worth the inevitable teasing that would follow when riley beamed as she slid her gooey marshmallow off the stick and onto the cracker, leaning over him to fish around for the chocolate on the far side of where he was sitting. 

“riley, you have to tell us more about what drake is like at college. it’s honestly like you’re describing a totally different person.” 

drake glared at maxwell as he set himself up with a new marshmallow. “it’s really not,” he said, though all three of them acted like he hadn’t spoken.

“well -- for the most part, he’s always been really nice to me,” she shrugged, “but he was pretty drunk when we met.”

“i wasn’t pretty drunk,” he argued, “i was... regular drunk.” again, the three of them ignored him.

“i bumped into him at a party -- like full-on smacked into him and spilled my drink -- and i remember exactly what he said. he looked me up and down and was like, i would remember if i’d ever seen you here before.”

“actually, i think it sounded a lot cooler than that.” his protest fell on deaf ears. liam and maxwell leaned in closer to the fire, hanging on her every word. 

“and i was like, uh, i kind of make it a point not to hang around in gross frat house backyards, and i swear to god he actually said -- so what if we went upstairs instead?”

“i think i’d honestly be okay with dying right now,” drake said, though he doubted anyone heard him with the way liam and maxwell were howling with laughter. 

“so -- did you go with him?” 

“yeah.” her smile softened, and she shot drake a fond look that made him feel perfectly at peace, being the butt of the joke. “drake’s room has a really cool balcony. we stayed outside all night talking and watched the sunrise together. then in the morning it started raining, so we ran inside... and he asked if i wanted a towel but i just kissed him instead.”

“and then?”

“you really don’t need to --”

“honestly, i didn’t know if i’d see him again after that,” riley shrugged, glossing over the part he was desperate to keep private. “it’s a big campus, you know? and he didn’t even ask for my number. but i... kept thinking about him. so i asked around, and i figured out which of the girls in my sorority were dating guys in sig chi.”

that was news to him. “what? you did?”

“uh, yeah?” riley laughed, as though it should have been obvious. “how else would i have known about that pregame you had before the homecoming game?”

he was stunned. it’d never occurred to him before that seeing riley again might’ve been anything other than dumb luck. “i don’t know.”

“so -- that was what happened. i went to the pregame and it was pretty small so obviously he was there and we saw each other right away, and i couldn’t have cared less about the homecoming game so...” a grin spread slowly across her face. she shrugged. “we found something else to do with our time.”

his brain was still stuck on the part where she actively sought out seeing him again. when he first started hooking up with her on a semi-regular basis, drake had assumed riley was just killing time with him between classes and parties -- she was so obviously out of his league that it seemed ridiculous to think anything else. drake spent most of the time he was with her trying to make her laugh or come so he could convince her she had a reason to keep coming around.

but... she liked him. since the first time they’d met. she didn’t need any convincing.

“then i just kept bugging him and dragging him to stuff he didn’t want to go to -- study groups, movies on the quad, bar crawls in the city, red sox games. i kept waiting for him to say no, but -- he never did.” 

she was staring at him in the moonlight, biting down on her bottom lip. riley looked suddenly... shy, or as shy as she could look with thready gobs of marshmallow stuck to her fingertips. he had no idea what to say.

“you and i remember that... very differently,” he settled on finally, hardly able to believe she was serious. she had to be embellishing, right? telling the story in a way that’d make it more interesting for liam and especially maxwell, whose eyes were so wide as she talked that drake was actually concerned for him. 

“is that right?” 

“yes,” he said emphatically. “first of all, i felt like an idiot for forgetting to get your number. i thought i totally blew it, and i couldn’t believe my luck when you showed up at the house again. i’d kind of just been hoping we’d have a class together or something and i could figure out how to talk to you then. and after homecoming i was the one to ask you out.”

“asking me to meet you at a bar you were already at is not asking me out,” she laughed. “you said ‘come to tri-bar, there’s a lot of people here.’ is that how you guys would ask a girl out?”

liam and maxwell both obligingly shook their heads no. traitors.

“i was the one who asked you to come home with me, and then when we got there, you were like -- ugh, a twin-sized bed? i didn’t even think you liked me. so then when i saw you at the student union and asked you to go to the marina... i thought you were going to say no, honestly.”

maxwell interrupted before he could think of something to say. “so you asked drake out? twice?”

“i asked him out, like, a hundred times,” she laughed, “most of the time i figured he just said yes because he was bored.”

“okay, you are out of your mind.” it felt like he was living in an alternate reality. “i mean, i was definitely trying to play it cool, but i couldn’t have been that cool.”

“it would be incredibly out of character for him,” maxwell mused.

drake ignored him. “i was always following you around. i couldn’t believe a girl like you would even look twice at me.”

riley frowned, like she didn’t understand what he was saying, either. 

it was hard to pinpoint exactly when things started to change. gradually, they’d just become... two people who were always together, constantly in contact, never without their next outing on the horizon. she’d started to spend every weekend sleeping over at the house and he’d memorized her coffee order and her class schedule so he could have a few extra minutes of her time walking around campus together. 

when he and savannah had gone to texas to spend christmas with his mom he’d made sure to text her every day over the holiday break. he’d gotten back to boston earlier in the day the sunday before the spring semester started, and went to pick her up from the train when she got in later that night. it was snowing, and she was freezing cold when she hugged him tight. 

drake still remembered the way she’d said i was worried you would forget about me. at the time, he’d thought she was joking.

“so -- assuming that drake planned absolutely nothing for the entire summer, i have a list of everything you have to see in cordonia before you leave.” maxwell broke the silence, pulling out his phone. reluctantly, riley looked away from him and back across the fire. liam shot him a look before drake averted his eyes, too. 

“sounds fun,” riley smiled. “i’m ready for a summer full of adventure.” 

she stretched, making a show of giving the biggest, most fake-looking yawn he’d ever seen. he stifled a smile. “i’m pretty exhausted now, though. it was a long flight.” riley turned and looked directly at him. “will you walk me to my room?”

*

she held his hand as he walked her back up the stairs. “so,” she started, looking around at everything, “how come we don’t get to share?”

share a bedroom? as if. he snorted. “this isn’t exactly that kind of place. plus, i figured you’d want your own space. but you’re right across the hall from me, so... i’ll be close.” 

she nodded. he couldn’t remember another time she was so quiet. “are you okay?”

riley squeezed his hand. “yeah. just taking it all in. i can’t believe you really grew up here. i mean, you’re so -- normal. is this weird for you?”

“very. but you get used to it. savannah adapted a lot better than i did.”

“you said she’s with her friends, right?”

“yeah -- a few of the girls from court went to paris for the weekend. i think it was one of their birthdays. they should be back in a couple of days, and then you can meet her. maxwell said something about having a big party.”

“i can’t believe i actually scored an invite to an infamous beaumont bash,” she mused playfully, “it’ll be nice to finally have some idea of what you’re talking about.”

“honestly, there’s tons of other things i want to show you first. tomorrow i’ll take you on a real tour of the palace -- show you all the secret spots i’ve found. stuff you’d never read about in history books.” he couldn’t wait to see her face when he showed her the view of the courtyard.

“that sounds nice.” but riley looked distracted, her thoughts somewhere else. he waited patiently for her to get around to it, and she did. “can i ask you something?”

“anything.”

“why did you invite me here?” he looked down in surprise and found that she was already staring at him. “i mean -- for the whole summer? aren’t you worried we might get sick of each other?”

he shook his head. of all the things he’d worried about and agonized over, that was one thought that had honestly never crossed his mind. “not at all.” he slowed to a stop as they reached the door that said ms. riley brooks in looping script. 

“i invited you out here because i wanted to spend time with you,” he said honestly, for once unafraid of saying something that might scare her off. since the moment they’d met, it’d been an annoyance in the back of his mind, the thought that she might decide she’d had enough one day and walk away. tonight, it seemed like riley was doing everything she could to make him feel secure -- so he tried to let her, just this once. “honestly, when i knew i had to come back here... at first, i didn’t want to.” 

he felt guilty to admit it, but pushed through anyway. “because of you. the thought of not being able to see you every day... made me not want to go. i didn’t -- i could never forgive myself if that’s how i left things with you. and i could see how you would think that maybe i just said you should come in the heat of the moment or whatever, but... that’s how i always feel when i’m with you, so. it was a no-brainer. i feel like if none of this ever happened, i still would’ve invited you out, or planned a trip to new york or... something. those three weeks i didn’t see you over christmas break were awful. i don’t know if i could do a whole -- woah!”

he cut off abruptly as riley shoved him hard into the wall beside her bedroom door. before he had time to ask what she was doing, she pushed up on her toes and kissed him forcefully, gripping his shirt tightly in her hands. drake tangled his hands in her long, dark hair, kissing her back just as aggressively. 

god. had they really not done this in eight weeks? 

drake heard riley fumble with the doorknob to her room and shuffled to help her get them both inside without breaking their kiss. the door to the hallway slammed shut as she pushed him back into it again. 

on any other night, he might’ve teased her for her impatience -- reminded her that they had no where to be and then dragged it out for as long as possible. but tonight, he felt her urgency. he pushed forward and walked them both back towards her bed, leaning over her until she finally laid down onto it and dragged him on top of her. 

in between kisses, he pulled off his shirt, doing his best not to actually rip any threads of riley’s clothes as he tugged at them in turn. once he’d slipped her out of her jeans, he almost choked on his own tongue when he saw what she was wearing underneath.

“did you have that on all day?” he demanded, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. her bra and panties were lacy and see-through, in matching dusty shades of pink. 

she grinned at him, completely pleased with herself. “uh huh.”

he groaned as he looked her over, his gaze trailing down her body. “jesus christ, riley. warn a guy next time.” 

she lifted one leg to hook around his waist, pressing him closer with her heel at his back. he exhaled slowly, giving into the urge to grind his hips forward against hers.

if it was at all possible for riley to look any more smug, she managed it. “where would be the fun in that?”

*

he was still panting as they laid side-by-side under the canopy of her bed. the sheet was pooled low over the both of them, but for as hot as he knew they both were riley still cuddled in as close as she could get, leaning her head on drake’s chest. his arm wrapped around her, stroking her shoulder mindlessly as he worked to get his actual thoughts back on track.

she was the one to speak up first. “i want you to sleep in here with me.” the tone of her voice implied she thought he might actually say no. 

“okay,” he answered breathlessly, glancing around the room that would be hers for the next three months for the first time. she’d hardly had time to unpack before liam and maxwell had monopolized her afternoon, but her things were already scattered around the room in a way that reminded him of her apartment back in boston; riley had a few t-shirts already spilling out of her half-zipped duffle bag, and her curling iron sat on top of the vanity next to her phone charger. 

for some reason, the sight of her things around here -- in a bedroom at the palace, where he’d grown up and spent so much time feeling completely alone and out of place -- made his heartbeat speed up arrhythmically. 

“i really am so glad you’re here,” he murmured, feeling inexplicably tender towards her. “i know this has to be weird for you. but it means a lot that you’d do this just so we could hang out.”

“i would literally walk from new york to cordonia if it meant we could spend an hour together.” she nudged her nose against his sternum, and he wondered if she could feel how hard his heart was pounding. 

he covered up the rush of affection he felt for her with a joke. “you would literally walk across the atlantic ocean?”

“i would figuratively do it just so i could literally kick your ass.” 

drake chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes so he could smile down at her. “riley... seriously.”

“i’m being serious,” she insisted, “you always act like i don’t like you as much as you like me, but the truth is that i like you more. it’s like you haven’t noticed that i’ve been the one chasing you around since junior year started.”

he scoffed. “what? that’s not true.”

riley pushed up onto her elbow, frowning at him like he was a complete idiot. she usually reserved that look for what she considered to be ice cold takes of his, like meat lovers is objectively the best pizza in existence or they should have never cancelled heroes, the plot was just starting to get good. “drake -- it is true. if i weren’t always, you know -- showing up at your house or dragging you out to stuff we’d probably never see each other. i think you inviting me out here is the only time you’ve ever made a plan for us to do something.”

“no way,” he argued, racking his brain for an example of a time he planned a date. there had to be at least one. “what about when we went to that concert at fenway park?”

“i got the tickets from work,” she reminded him. he frowned.

“how about when we slept over on that houseboat in the marina?”

“that was daniel’s dad’s boat. i asked him if we could borrow it.”

“i took you to that early screening of the last most wanted movie.”

“you needed an american express card to access the pre-sale. i sent you the link and asked you to do it. drake -- it’s not a big deal. i’m just saying --”

“hang on, what about all those times i made you dinner? i invited you over, i cooked for you. those were dates, weren’t they?”

riley shrugged. “sure. look -- forget i said anything, okay? the point i was trying to make was that... i like you a lot. and you don’t have to worry about that.”

but he barely heard her, his thoughts somewhere else. “well, i did plan stuff for us to do this summer. there’s so much i want to show you. it’s going to take us the entire time to get through it all.”

“and that sounds great.” she smiled at him reassuringly, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d somehow majorly fucked up. 

there was so much more he wanted to say. he needed her to understand just how crazy about her he was -- how insane she made him feel, how he never stopped thinking about her. he’d never known anyone who single-handedly had the ability to make or break his day. 

and he’d never had a girlfriend before. he’d never even wanted one. but... riley was different. she made every day so much better, just by being around. 

so why were the words that would let her know that stuck in his throat? 

“okay,” he mumbled finally, still frowning at the ceiling. 

she was already dozing off against his chest, seemingly content, but he knew it would be a long time before he fell asleep, too.

*

it only took a day before they settled into a routine. riley always preferred running to being in the gym -- especially with him -- (“drake is so annoying about his workout” she’d not-whispered to liam when he’d invited her to train with them) so she’d spend the morning jogging laps around the palace grounds in an infuriatingly small sports bra and shorts while he and liam made use of the palace gym.

he tried valiantly not to stare at her when she ran past the bank of windows that looked out into the courtyard, but she drew his gaze every time without fail, to the point where he was mentally timing her laps, perking up when he figured she’d be coming around again.

he and liam were taking turns hitting one of the heavy bags lined up in the corner of the gym as he complained. “she thinks i’m not thoughtful,” drake insisted, even though riley had never said that -- at least not in so many words. “she said i’ve never planned a date for us. i didn’t even know that was something i was supposed to do.”

liam gave him the same look riley did when she thought he was being wildly out of pocket. “you didn’t think... you were supposed to take your girlfriend out on dates?”

“i didn’t even think she was my girlfriend,” he admitted helplessly. “we never said -- i mean, i never thought...” he sighed in frustration, and liam wordlessly switched positions with him so drake could be free to hit the punching bag they were sharing. “we’re always together. it wasn’t like -- we had a saturday where we weren’t hanging out and she was waiting around for me to ask her to do something. i swear i spent more time with her than i did in class.”

“look, she obviously likes you,” liam pointed out, holding the heavy bag steady as drake punched it again, hard enough to rattle the chain hooking it into the ceiling. “the way she talks about you... it seems clear she’s crazy about you just the way you are.”

“yeah,” he sighed, “i just want to make her feel special. she deserves it.” 

while he’d definitely made a list of everything he wanted to show riley before she left cordonia, he knew then that he needed to translate it into solid plans. he was determined to show her how much she meant to him, so if riley wanted dates, then she would get them -- so many she’d be sick of him by the end of the summer. 

riley popped her head in, then, grinning and flushed. “god, it’s hot out there. you didn’t tell me a cordonian summer would be this hot.”

“it’s been unseasonably warm,” liam agreed, moving to the cooler to grab riley a water. “you know you can always run in here with us, right? there’s plenty of treadmills.”

“thanks, but i like being outside. you two should try keeping up with me.” she drank deeply from the water bottle in her hands, eyeing drake’s shirtless torso with the same interest he was paying her. 

they were just about ready for the next part of their routine --

“shower?” riley asked him, inclining her head towards the stairs. her lips quirked up into a grin.

“definitely.” 

the three of them would have breakfast together before whatever adventure they’d decided upon for the day started. liam wasn’t always able to join them -- sometimes bastien put his foot down if drake suggested something too far or dangerous -- but maxwell would tag along on occasion, and sometimes they’d spend the day blissfully alone. 

over the next few weeks, he showed her... everything. they went to the beach. to the woods. to the mountains. he took her to the stables and showed her how to ride a horse -- really ride, like when he first learned in texas -- and they broke into the kitchens late at night to make snacks together, sneaking around with whispered voices so they wouldn’t wake anyone else up.

he took her camping, and hiking, and fishing, and tried to teach her how to navigate the hedge maze. that one was still taking her a few tries, but riley took to everything else with natural grace, being as infuriatingly good at everything as she always was. drake showed her all the secret spots of the palace he’d always wanted to share with someone, and brought her into town, and stuffed her full of every single apple-related snack she could handle. 

they had sex just about everywhere he thought they could manage to get away with it. as it turned out, that was... a lot of places. 

he introduced her to savannah and the members of the king’s guard that felt like family to him, pleased when she charmed them as easily as she’d charmed everyone else. savannah thought she was just about the greatest thing she’d ever seen, and bothered her incessantly about everything from life in new york to what college in america was like to how riley braided her hair. 

life felt pretty much... perfect. now that he knew what it felt like to have riley’s eyes light up when he brought her somewhere special, drake constantly found himself trying to outdo their last day out, chasing the high that came when she gave him her sunniest smile and bounced happily on the balls of her feet.

he found himself doing and saying things he never thought he’d do before, like talking about his dad, and growing up at the palace, and even opening up about how nervous he’d been to bring her around liam...

but riley never judged him. she never made him feel stupid, even though most of the time he thought he sounded pretty stupid. 

she always listened. she was patient and thoughtful and she just got him, in a way he hadn’t even realized he’d been looking for until she made it happen so effortlessly. the more time he spent with her, the more he was amazed at how well they really seemed to mesh. in boston, they’d been friends who got along swimmingly, but here... they felt like a team. like partners. like something more... solid, and real.

they still drank and went to parties and snuck out early to find somewhere quiet to make out. by the third or so time, maxwell had started collecting bets on when they would make their leave together -- not that he cared, as long as they found that quiet spot.

but it felt like they had an understanding, now. so much so that he barely even noticed he’d started introducing her to anyone who looked their way as riley, my girlfriend.

eventually, things started to wind down. august snuck up on them before he had time to prepare, and drake found himself face-to-face with the reality of time and the guilt of knowing that he still hadn’t told riley he wouldn’t be flying back to boston with her at the end of the month.  

it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. it was just that... other things always seemed to come up. to take precedence.

he’d been lying on her bed while she flipped frantically through the clothes she’d brought along with her, whining, “i didn’t bring anything i could wear to a ball. you didn’t tell me there was going to be a ball.”

drake shrugged apathetically. “we don’t actually have to go. everyone will be in the ballroom, so -- the rest of the palace would be pretty much ours. or we could drive out to the beach... camp out under the stars again...”

“of course we have to go. in fact, your sister specifically said make sure drake doesn’t skip this one.”

“you know, i didn’t introduce you guys so you could team up against me.” riley smirked at him over her shoulder. “the end of summer ball is, like, the lamest one, anyway. we wouldn’t be missing anything.”

“we’re going,” she said firmly, “i just need to find a dress. maxwell said something about a boutique?” 

drake nodded. “i can show you where it is.” he drew in a deep breath. now was as good a time as any, right? “actually, there was something i wanted to talk to you about...”

she hummed encouragingly from where she was still bent over her bag, rifling through her things. 

“well... it’s about --”

“riley!” the door to her room banged open abruptly. drake sighed as savannah burst in. “you have to come with me to the boutique. i put three different dresses on hold for the ball this weekend and i need you to tell me which one i should go with.”

“you know, you could knock,” drake said pointedly, glaring at savannah from behind riley’s back. he was trying to let her know about the important talk she’d interrupted with just a look, but savannah didn’t seem to pick up on it, her brow furrowing at him with confusion. 

“you can’t blame us if you walk in on something you don’t want to see,” riley teased, finally standing up and dusting her hands off. she smiled at savannah, and then turned back towards drake. “i’ll see you in a bit?” 

as if it were possible to feel any guiltier, drake found that he was actually relieved they’d been interrupted. “yeah,” he answered weakly. you are the worst. she is going to freak out. “definitely.”

*

riley was adamant about getting ready on her own. she said something about wanting to surprise him when she’d shoved him out of her room and told him to meet her at the bottom of the staircase before the party. drake spent his newly discovered free time resigning himself to a night spent in his one suit, carefully avoiding the nobles he had no interest in talking to.

he was barely dressed before savannah came barging into his room, squealing and clapping her hands excitedly. “drake! come on, come on. it’s time to go downstairs.”

“savannah, the ball isn’t going anywhere.” neither was this little song-and-dance they somehow managed to perform before every single party. usually, she let him drag his feet for at least a few more minutes than she was tonight.

“i can’t wait to see the look on your face,” she grinned, reaching for his arm and dragging him out of his room. “you are going to die.”

“what are you even talking about?” they descended the stairs together and stopped at the bottom. the foyer was chaotic, with guests arriving and greeting each other, the doors to the ballroom open just beyond the hallway. he could already hear the music that was playing. 

“riley, stupid,” savannah said, elbowing him in the side. “she looks amazing.”

he rolled his eyes at her. “riley always looks amazing.”

“i’ve never wanted my phone more than i do right now,” she sighed, “you’re going to look like a complete idiot in 3... 2...”

maybe she had a point. riley appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs looking like an angel, holding the long skirt of her dress in one hand. the gown she was wearing was grey and low-cut, with sequin detailing and a simple cinch at the waist. when she started to walk down the stairs, he could see that there was a high slit in the front, exposing flashes of her bare legs to him as she moved. 

as she got closer, the dainty necklace that dipped tantalizingly into her cleavage caught his eye. his mouth felt very dry. 

from beside him, he could distantly hear savannah say, “this is the best thing ever,” but she felt very far away.

it felt a lot like riley was walking towards him in slow-motion. she was like something out of a fantasy, and while he knew he was gaping, drake couldn’t quite bring himself to care. finally, she stopped at the bottom of the steps, right in front of him.

she shot him a wide, sunny smile. “hi.”

drake released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. his gaze slid down her body again. he couldn’t remember ever feeling so tongue-tied in his entire life, and riley had dressed as catwoman for halloween.

“hey. you look amazing.” there. that was more or less what he’d wanted to start with. “that dress...”

“yeah? you like it?” her grin let him know she already knew his answer.

“i think it’s going to look amazing on my floor later.” 

“aaaand, that’s my cue,” savannah said abruptly from behind him, her face contorting with distaste. “i’ll see you in there.” he hardly noticed as she walked away. 

“seriously, riley.” now that he’d found his voice, he wasn’t sure if he was capable of talking about anything else. “you’re gorgeous.”

and he was in love.

wait --

no, he was. he was certain. that feeling -- that thing that he always seemed to be overtaken by whenever riley was around, whenever she smiled at him or he made her laugh or she kissed him -- that feeling that made him want to tell her things, anything -- that was what it was. he was in love with her. oh, god.

he tried not to let his revelation show on his face as she inclined her head towards his own outfit. “thanks. you look really handsome, too. i didn’t even know you owned a suit.”

her teasing made him feel more like himself, and drake managed a genuine smile as he leaned down to press a brief kiss to her lips. the contact calmed him down enough to pretend like the earth hadn’t just completely shifted on its axis. “a man has to have some secrets.” he offered her his arm, and she stepped up to his side. “ready for the lion’s den?”

“it can’t be that bad.” 

he snorted as they stepped into the ballroom. a quick glance of the room confirmed that riley had absolutely no idea what she was in for. the place was crawling with nobles and a majority of the faces he recognized were people he had absolutely no interest in talking to -- girls who were desperate to get on liam’s radar now, before he started courting for a queen, and pompous dukes and earls who’d want to pretend to be his friend for a spot in his inner circle once he became king. not a single one of them had ever had a polite word to say to him.

“let’s at least get a drink,” he settled on, resting his hand on her lower back to guide her towards the bar. hopefully he could keep most of the nastiest people here away from her.

unfortunately, riley was hardly dressed to lay low. drake noticed every eye in their path following them as they made their way across the room, whispers breaking out behind her back from both men and women. it hardly surprised him. if he had seen her for the first time tonight he was sure he would have been one of the people staring, too. 

as they got in line at the bar, she swiped a glass of champagne from a passing tray, lifting it to her lips. drake glared at a man staring at her from over her shoulder until he held up his hands and walked away. “this is really fancy,” riley noted, looking around the room. “is this what your summers are usually like? all these balls and parties?”

drake shook his head. “honestly, i try to avoid stuff like this unless liam really needs my support. savannah likes it, but most of this... isn’t my scene. in a few years, when liam starts looking for a queen -- it’s going to be awful. there’ll be a ball like this every week, and an international tour, too.”

“oh, no,” riley said sarcastically, “a free trip to other beautiful countries? it sounds terrible.”

“traveling with the royal court is hardly a vacation,” he sighed. “the security alone makes it impossible to do anything fun. it’s basically exactly what we do here -- crowded dinners filled with pretentious people and tiny portions of fancy food -- except that you’re jet-lagged and tired on top of it.”

she shook her suddenly empty champagne flute at him before setting it down on the bar. “at least there’s alcohol.”

“that one, i’ll give you.” he gave both their drink orders to the bartender, passing riley her vodka soda -- three limes -- with one hand and drinking deeply from his whiskey with the other. riley leaned up against his side as they stepped away from the crowd, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her in closer.

she surveyed the people filling the ballroom with interest. “okay, so give me the rundown. who’s who?”

“most of the people here are cordonian nobility,” he explained, “their parents run duchies throughout the country. you know -- like how maxwell’s brother runs his?”

riley hummed, nodding her head. she took another sip of her drink. “and is being really, really pretty a requirement of coming to these things? because most of these girls look like supermodels.”

draked laughed. “most of the girls here are some of the meanest people you will ever meet.” his fingers drummed on her bare shoulder to catch her attention, and he lowered his voice as he inclined his head to the far right of the room. “that’s madeleine. she was engaged to leo before he abdicated. now that liam’s set to be king, she’ll be all over him.”

riley’s face displayed her disgust. “after she was engaged to his brother?”

“it was never really like that, for them. i’d be surprised if she and leo ever even kissed, outside of public obligations.”

“that’s kind of sad, don’t you think?”

“yeah. especially because she’s pretty much the favored choice for liam, and... not a very pleasant person to be around. i hope he picks anyone else, honestly.”

a flash of red hair caught his eye, and he looked across the room to see olivia and liam dancing together. he grimaced. “well... almost anyone.”

“who’s she?”

“olivia nevrakis, we grew up together. her family has a long history in cordonia. she’s been in love with liam for... pretty much our entire lives. ever since her parents died, she’s been running their duchy alone, in lythikos.”

“ahh.” recognition dawned on riley’s face. “that’s the place maxwell calls the elephant graveyard.”

“what? why?”

she looked at him like he was crazy. “from the lion king? it’s the place simba isn’t ever supposed to go. because... of the hyenas? have you seriously never seen the lion king?”

maxwell appeared beside them suddenly, two champagne flutes in his hands. he passed one to riley. “did i hear someone say the lion king?”

she clinked her glass against his with a grin. “drake’s never seen it! isn’t that insane?”

drake nodded at the glass in maxwell’s hands. “don’t worry, i didn’t want one.”

he scoffed. “you already have a drink! riley’s was looking low.”

“thanks, maxwell,” she said primly, leaning her head briefly on drake’s chest. “don’t be so grumpy, you.”

drake rolled his eyes. “i’m just saying -- we’re going to need about a thousand more of those, if we’re going to get through tonight.” 

“aww, come on. this is pretty fun. i love that you have all the gossip.”

he sighed heavily, his gaze drawn back to where olivia seemed reluctant to release liam, even as the song changed. “i need to go rescue liam. will you be okay for a few minutes on your own?”

riley nodded, waving him off. she set both of her empty glasses down on a passing tray. “yeah, i’ll be fine. go save the day.”

“i’ll introduce you to some people,” maxwell offered, “maybe we can even teach you the corodnian waltz.”

*

it was longer than he would’ve liked before he made his way back to riley again. he’d seen her out of the corner of his eye, dancing with maxwell, talking to savannah, meeting some of the other ladies from court. whenever he glanced her way, she seemed to be handling herself remarkably well -- better than he ever had. he was impressed.

he came armed with another drink for her when he finally appeared to pull her away from maxwell and the girls she was talking to, assuming she’d need it. surprisingly enough, the small group that’d gathered around her actually complained when drake pulled her away. 

drake led her out onto the balcony and handed her her drink. riley accepted it gratefully, laughing when he said, “it looks like you’ve made quite the impression.”

riley shrugged, holding the cool glass against her flushed cheek. she’d probably danced more tonight than he had in his entire life. “most of them aren’t so bad. but i do see what you mean about olivia. she’s a nightmare.”

he laughed. “what -- no way! american, commoner, here with me? you should have been her favorite person at this party.”

she grinned out at the courtyard below them, bracing her hands on the balcony’s railing. “she’s lucky we’re here and not at school, or i’d slap that stupid smirk off her face.”

drake whistled. “someone’s feeling feisty.”

riley shot him a sideline look. if he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think that she’d been out there defending him. after a beat, she said, “you didn’t tell me you had admirers here.”

his eyebrows arched high as he took a sip of his own drink. “probably because i don’t.”

“hmmm.” she pursed her lips and then turned around, leaning her back against the railing. drake followed her gaze back into the ballroom and found that she was looking at kiara. “she likes you.”

drake rolled his eyes. “that’s not funny.”

she folded her arms under her chest, turning back towards him. “i’m not laughing.”

“she doesn’t even know me. and i’m not interested in her.” 

riley sighed. he wondered if there was something else he should say -- but before he could start to overthink things, she leaned in for a kiss. 

drake pulled her close and kissed her deeply, the way he’d been wanting to all night. he’d been thinking of this moment and this moment alone since she’d descended the grand stairs, and he swept her into his chest, carefully weaving his hands into her hair so he could tilt her face up to kiss her harder.

riley wound her arms around him in turn and shivered as their bodies met, humming happily against his lips when his grip tightened. the muffled sound of the party behind them faded away as all of drake’s focus centered on her and the crazy way she made him feel. 

when they finally broke apart, he tipped their foreheads together, staring down at her. riley was breathing hard, her lips swollen and her cheeks pink. she looked so happy.

before she could speak, he said, “i have to tell you something.”

she held his gaze. it was now or never. in a moment, she wasn’t going to look this happy anymore -- she was going to be so fucking mad at him.

he shut his eyes with a sigh. her hand was sweetly stroking his side under his jacket and over his shirt, her voice gentle and encouraging when she asked, “drake? what is it?”

“i’m not... going back to school with you, riley. i have to stay here.”

he could feel her freeze in his arms, tensing up. the words hung in the air between them, creating distance that was unavoidable, even though she didn’t move. he opened his eyes.

“you’re... what?”

“i’m not going back to boston,” he said again, his voice low. “i’m sorry... but i can’t. liam needs me here.”

predictably, she looked upset. drake watched as a series of emotions flickered across her face before her expression set into one of stony resolve. he didn’t try to stop her as she pulled away, taking a step back from him. “when did you decide that?”

he knew his answer wouldn’t be popular, but at least it was the truth. “as soon as i got back.”

she flinched. “and you didn’t think it was important to tell me before now?”

“riley -- i wanted to tell you,” he rushed to explain, hating that everything out of his mouth sounded like an excuse. “but it never felt like the right time, and --”

“that is such bullshit.” it felt like the ground was falling out from beneath him as angry tears sprang into her eyes. “you knew all fucking summer you were just going to ship me back there by myself and you acted like we were -- and then what? what was supposed to happen for us?”

“hey, no. that’s not what i -- riley, we can still... be in a relationship. of course i still want that. i know the long distance thing isn’t easy but i thought we could... try. and then after you graduated -- i don’t know, maybe -- you could move here, or... we could talk about it then? i don’t know. i didn’t get that far.”

“so those are my options?” she looked like she wanted to throw something at him. he couldn’t blame her. “move to cordonia, or break up with you?”

“no,” he emphasized again, trying to pinpoint where, exactly, this talk had gone horribly wrong, “that’s not what i want. i want you to be happy, riley. and these last few months... it seemed like you were really happy.”

“of course i was! because you were acting like -- like --”

“like what? help me out here, please.” he knew he sounded desperate, but if he could just understand what exactly was making her so upset, maybe there was still a chance they could fix this.

riley sighed. she looked devastated. “you’ve been acting like you’re in love with me. of course that made me happy, drake.”

the world slowed to a stop. he didn’t say anything -- he only stared at her in surprise. finally, he found his voice. “riley... i’ve never been ‘acting’ around you. everything i’ve said -- everything i’ve done... all of this has been because i am in love with you.”

that seemed to be the absolute last thing she ever thought he would say. “what?”

drake couldn’t hold back his laugh. “brooks -- riley. did you seriously not know?”

her eyes went wide. “no! how was i supposed to know?!”

“well --”

“oh my god. drake.”

he’d lost the ability to tell whether this conversation was going terribly well or just plain terribly. it felt like his grip on the situation was deteriorating rapidly. confusion clear in his voice, he asked, “are you still... mad at me?”

riley smacked his shoulder. “yes! i can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were staying here sooner.”

drake winced. “i know... and i’m sorry. you deserved to know as soon as you got here, but... i didn’t want it to ruin our summer. i wanted to give you the time of your life.”

she heaved a loud, long sigh. he watched as she looked out over the courtyard, and then up at the stars. before he could apologize to her again -- and really start groveling -- riley rushed forward and kissed him.

he held her waist to keep her steady, decidedly going with it. even though he still wasn’t exactly sure what was happening, he was cautiously optimistic that he hadn’t ruined everything beyond repair. it didn’t feel like a ‘goodbye’ kiss.

she was stroking his cheek when she pulled away, cupping his jaw in her hand. the warm glow from the party still going on behind the double doors lit her up like a dream. it felt like the only explanation for what the hell she was still doing here, with him -- he had to be dreaming.

“drake... i love you, too.”

he yanked her in and pressed their lips together again, crushing his mouth against hers. riley moaned as he lifted her up off her toes and held her as close as he possibly could, spinning around to press her against the balcony’s ledge. it felt like forever before he managed to drag himself away from her -- like maybe they kept kissing until the party ended or even beyond that, into the next morning. 

riley was smiling widely at him. “you’re such an idiot.”

he nodded, still marveling down at her in wonder. somehow, the amazing girl in his arms loved him. him. the giant fuck-up that he was -- riley loved him. “i know. you’re gonna have to go easy on me sometimes.”

“oh, this isn’t going to be easy,” she promised, lifting her hands to his face. she seemed to be just as in awe as he was. 

“that’s fine, too. you know i like a challenge, brooks.” his hands slid down her back, over the fabric of her gown. he hoped she wouldn’t be too angry with him for tearing it off of her as soon as they could make their way back upstairs, piece by piece. “and i promise i’m going to do everything i can to make you happy. not just next year. but forever.”

her fingers brushed softly through his hair. riley’s gaze was warm as it searched his face. whatever she found there kept her smiling. “you don’t have to try so hard. i’m happy with you just the way you are.”

*

the rest of august flew by in a flash.

in the blink of an eye, it was time for riley to leave. they stayed up all night on her last night in the palace, talking about everything and nothing, kissing until they were short of breath. 

so she looked tired, when she finally started packing her things, even after they showered together for the last time -- something that usually filled her with seemingly boundless energy. 

the mood was somber as she triple-checked her room for anything she might’ve forgotten. drake sat on the bed and watched her walk around in silence; the room looked bizarrely bare without her t-shirts and hair ties and underwear thrown all over it.

she stopped silently in front of the bed and cupped his face in her hands, tilting his chin up so he would look at her. 

“you’re pouting.”

he was. “i’m not pouting. this just sucks.”

riley’s lips twitched. “you’re sulking.”

“no,” he answered petulantly, “i’m rightfully sad that the best summer of my life is coming to an end.”

she sighed, stepping closer in between his spread legs. “yeah.”

riley dropped one hand to his wrist, which she lifted to eye-level so she could look at his watch. “i should probably start saying goodbye, if i ever want to make my flight.”

she’d said a round of goodbyes last night, to everyone -- doling out hugs and then hugging everyone again, exchanging her number with anyone who hadn’t already gotten it and swapping social media handles, promising to visit at christmas break. but he knew they wouldn’t let her sneak out so easily. she was riley. she’d wormed her way into each and every last one of their hearts.

“i could just refuse to let you go,” he mused, balling his hands up in the back of her shirt tightly. “keep you stuck up here forever.”

she hummed as though she was actually considering the idea. “what would we eat?”

“i would bring snacks.”

“you would leave to go get them?”

he leaned forward and buried his face in her chest. “so i haven’t worked out all the kinks yet. but the core of the plan is solid: you stay here forever.” 

riley ran her fingers through his hair. “it won’t be so bad, you know. christmas is only a couple of months away.”

“i feel like i should be the one doing this for you. when did you turn me into this?”

she laughed. it spoke volumes to how upset he was that it couldn’t lift his mood, not even a little. “you won’t even have time to miss me,” she murmured. he squeezed her tighter. “i’ll be texting and calling you constantly. and you’ll be busy being a professional best friend.”

he finally lifted his head, standing so he could hug her the way he wanted to. “riley, there isn’t going to be a single minute that i’m not thinking about you until you get back here. i think you’re seriously overestimating just how busy i actually am. i might do nothing but miss you.”

riley managed to look both surprised and delighted at the same time. “promise?”

“i promise.” 

he carried her bag downstairs and stood around while she said one last goodbye to his friends. despite how sad he was, there was something he loved about seeing all the people he cared about -- liam, savannah and even maxwell -- hug her so hard, like they were going to miss her as much as he would. 

drake drove her to the airport, trying to pretend like everything was fine. if he allowed himself not to think about it for a few moments, it was almost like they were back in boston and on their way to dinner or a movie or the grocery store -- though riley always drove when they were at school, because she was the one who had a car. 

reality started to set in when he walked her inside. he found that he hardly wanted to hand her bag over to her -- if he did, then this was real. she’d be leaving. 

he swallowed hard as she threw herself at him again for another big hug. drake squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to memorize everything about her -- exactly the way she smelled and felt in his hands, the soft thump of her heart beat, the small noise she made into his ear. tomorrow morning he was going to wake up without her stupid hair in his mouth, for the first time in months. 

when he set her back down on her feet, he was eternally grateful to find that she wasn’t crying. if she started, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to actually do it -- to say goodbye.

but her voice did wobble precariously when she said, “hey, i’ll be back before you know it.”

drake clenched his jaw, trying not to let himself get too emotional. he bent down and scooped her up into another tight hug. “i don’t think i can do this,” he admitted, tucking his face into the juncture between her neck and shoulder. “i’m sorry. you’re going to have to stay.” 

she laughed, kicking her feet until he put her back down. he stared intently at her as she wound her arms around him. “thank you for the best summer of my life, drake walker.” the sad smile on her face was breaking his heart. she was so beautiful -- it wasn’t fair. none of this was fair. “don’t forget about me, okay?”

“it’s gonna take a lot more than this to get rid of me.” he reached out to stroke his fingers across her cheek, hardly able to stop touching her. this was the last time he would touch her for the next fifteen weeks.

riley reached up and wrapped her hand around his wrist. “i’ll hold you to that.”

he exhaled heavily. his chest felt tight. there was so much he wanted to say to her. he needed her to know how much she meant to him -- how he could never forget her, how he could never have even a hope of forgetting just one thing about her -- but he’d never been good with words. he’d always had much better luck showing riley what he meant than telling her.

drake pulled her in close and pressed their lips together. he meant for the kiss to be soft and sweet, but riley kissed him that same way she had when she first arrived in cordonia: desperate and hungry, passionately moving her lips against his. she kissed him like this was the last time they’d ever see each other -- like she wanted him to know the way she felt, too. without her having to say a word, he understood. 

he was breathing hard when they broke apart, and he silently bent down and grabbed her duffel bag, helping riley hook it onto her shoulder.

“i love you,” he said, squeezing her free hand once before letting it drop. “have a safe flight. call me when you’re settled.”

*

+1

“look!” riley’s voice was filled with wonder, as though this wasn’t already the fifth time she was exclaiming so. “mistletoe.” 

drake’s eyes followed her pointing finger to the ceiling above their heads. sure enough, there it was. “you know, you didn’t need to plan this. i’ll kiss you whenever you want.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” riley shrugged, like she and maxwell hadn’t been on ballroom decorating duty. he arched an eyebrow at her, but she stayed resolutely silent.

maxwell walked past them in a santa hat, a long rope of garland draped across his shoulders. “you know, it’s bad luck not to kiss.”

riley nodded solemnly at drake. “he’s right.” 

“you’re acting like i didn’t let you bring me to all the other spots you hung it,” he huffed, but obligingly leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, anyway. riley hummed happily as he did so, winding her arms around his neck. seriously -- it was the fifth time he’d kissed her in the last ten minutes. “are you going to be able to make it through this party?”

she shook her head. “no. i almost didn’t even make it through my flight. or my finals. do you know how hard it was to make it through my finals?”

“you might’ve mentioned it once or twice.” that was an understatement. he was sure he had permanent hearing loss after listening to riley scream over the phone for the last month. 

not that it mattered, since she was here, now. and he had her all to himself for the next three weeks. 

it hardly felt like enough time, but it was better than nothing. he’d been hoping the distance would get easier, the longer they were apart, but he missed riley more and more every day, with everything he had. 

“i can’t believe i get to wake up with you on christmas,” she beamed, pulling him out from under the mistletoe and continuing their walking tour of the room. “that’s going to be the best gift ever.”

“as long as you don’t let it slip in front of my mom that we’re not each staying in our own rooms.” because she’d be here, too. in just a few days, she’d be meeting riley for the first time -- and they’d all get to spend christmas together. everything he’d ever wanted would be in one place. it was hard not to feel tremendously lucky as he considered his good fortune.

“us? sleep together? in the same bed? no way,” she declared theatrically, her face twisting into an over-exaggerated grimace. 

he was so distracted by the way she looked that he didn’t even notice where riley was leading him.

“drake, look!” she exclaimed again, prompting him to roll his eyes.

“let me guess. mistletoe?”

he swiveled his gaze upwards. sure enough, the sprig of mistletoe stared back at him. 

he sighed. “you’re lucky i kind of like you.”

the look on her face spelled trouble. “like me?” she repeated, “you looooooooove --”

before she could finish teasing him, drake bent down and kissed her, hard enough to shut her up. he knew that when they broke apart she’d be dazed -- that she’d pull him right back in for another kiss.

not that he minded, since it was tradition and all. he assumed she wouldn’t, either.

just kissing her felt like an early present. having her here was the greatest thing to ever happen to him, and he couldn’t stop himself from picturing a series of christmases exactly like this one...

...and his mom would be bringing his grandma’s ring with her...

...and riley had no idea. she smiled at him when he pulled away, already tugging on his hand to lead him to the next sprig of mistletoe she and maxwell had hung up earlier. 

drake spared a brief moment, as he followed her to the other end of the ballroom, to reflect on all the crazy events that had led them here. for once, it felt good not to think about something he would’ve done differently. 

[darklymelanatedstories]

A weird idea I had a while ago.

Sucker for pain (ft Frieza)

I slowly opened my eyes as they focused on the ceiling of the dark, cold room. I sat up and slumped against the concrete wall. The pain made it unbearable as every part of my body hurt but I couldn't let that stop me, I need to survive. I had to.

Thirsty. My throat felt raspy and dry. It's been so long since I had anything to drink. One thing I was happy about was losing my constraints. No more shackles. No more chains. That didn't change that I was still a prisoner but it was better.

I heard the heavy metal door slowly open with a slight creak, as the bright white light entered the room. The cold light hit my face, it didn't feel like the warm sun kissing you awake on a nice Sunday morning. No. This was the light that reminded me that I was still stuck here and the silhouette of the monster in the doorway caused a flicker in my eyes. Him.

With his hands behind his back and tail swaying swiftly, he approached me. I rested my head against the wall and stared at the demon incarnate coming towards me. At times, I'd keep my head down and ignore him just to get him bored of me but no, not today. Not today Satan.

"Morning, my dear."he said cheerfully. Morning? It's so dark in here that time has lost all meaning. I turned away from him with no response.

"It's very rude to ignore your captor you know." He bent down and aggressively lifted my chin up to face him. I was unfazed and so, didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing any other expression on my face besides blank and uncaring.

His grip on my chin tightened, moving his fingers up to my cheeks and pulling me closer. I felt his breath hit my lips, fresh but with a hint of wine. Not bad. I thought it'd wreak of the blood of thousands of innocent people he's slaughtered.

"You're quite beautiful you know. Or you would be if you didn't look the trash you are."he sneered. He tossed my head to the side like I was nothing. I really wanted to choke him with his own tail and take his last breath.

With my frizzled hair in my face, I glared at him. He just smiled. He enjoyed this, he enjoyed torturing me but nowadays he seemed to grow quite bored of me. I stopped showing fear, sadness or any emotion in front of him. I know the camera would show them when I was alone but he loved seeing it up close in person. He turned, his back facing me. I stared. He had a great physique, I might add.

Oh, how I it would be a shame to cover his beautiful body with scars and paint it with his blood. Or would that make him look that much magnificent.

"What do you want me to say?"I asked, trying my best not to give away the thirst in my voice.

He glanced at me over his shoulder, his dark red pupils finding mine. He slowly walked over to me and went on one knee. He had an unreadable expression which quickly transitioned to amusement. A large wicked smile formed his lips.

"So you can talk?" He chuckled. "After our little session last week I thought you'd lost your voice."

"It's funny. After all you've done, all you've been through, I've finally caught up to you. How does it feel to finally be in my cells, on the brink of death, after watching your planet and family perish at my hands?"

I think he could tell that I wasn't gonna talk after that because his tail slithered up my chest and wrapped itself around my neck, it didn't hurt like I thought it would but the shock caused a gasp to escape my lips.

His smile grew wider. It annoyed me to see how much he enjoyed this. I gave no reaction which seemed to irritate him more because a scowl replaced his sinister smile.

"Answer me!" His tail tightened around my neck, making the burning in my throat even more unbearable.

I groaned and tried to look away from his glare but his tail held me in place. He's hurt me all over except for my neck or any inappropriate places. I'd say he was being a gentleman but that wouldn't be possible. Doing so would make it more personal, which would be the case now.

I tried to pull his tail off but it wrapped even tighter. I dug my sharp nails into the skin of his tail and I pulled for dear life. He winced in pain but didn't let go. His teeth gritted when my nails got deep enough and reached their limit. By now there was blood. His sweet, sweet blood.

"Hmp." I looked at him and saw a smirk on his face. He enjoyed this, way too much if I must say.

"Let...go of me."I growled. I looked down and took a huge bite at his tail.

"Gah! Bitch!"

I kicked him in the groin before grabbing his arm and pushing him into the wall. All those days training non stop in my cell have paid off.

He gave me a backhand to the face to which I responded with grabbing him and biting his neck. He groaned, I'm not sure in pain or pleasure. Before I could do anything else I felt a sharp pain on my butt. The bastard whipped me, causing me to let go of him. He grabbed my arms, held them in his hand and whipped me with his tail over and over.

It's hard to say but the more he whipped the better it felt.

I couldn't help but smile with every hit, every slash. The pain, the sweet sweet pain.

"That's what you get you pathetic little vermin.",he growled before tossing me on the ground. My ass hurt from the whipping but the adrenaline made it feel better.

I soon remembered that I was in a fight with this son of a bxtch so I formed a fist and aimed for his face. He caught it with his tail. I tried with my other fist but grabbed it with his hand. His other hand got hold of my neck and pushed me against the wall.

"And to think I was actually here to take you out for some fresh air."Frieza said. My eyes widened. "W-what?"

He grinned. "Be a dear and put your cuffs on. I can't take you out looking like a freeloader." He let go of me and handed me the cuffs that took me weeks just to get off. I hesitated for a moment but if he was telling the truth and I was going to breath fresh air, even for a few minutes then I didn't have much of a choice.

"Good girl." He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of my grimy cell. It felt refreshing. I couldn't help but smile. Few minutes of freedom in a while.

"Don't expect me to feed you there. I'm a fair emperor not a charity case."

He led me out of his ship into a beautiful forest of black trees and grass and white barked wood. The sky was a beautiful shade of.. pink? Blah I hate pink.

I narrowed my eyes but I guess Frieza noticed because he asked, "What?"

"Pink hurts my eyes."I said as I looked down. Frieza chuckled. In a few minutes we stopped at a garden like place with a...red waterfall?

I stared in amazement at its beauty. The colour of blood flowing so peaceful, so relaxing, like I just killed all my enemies and didn't have a care in the world.

"Lovely isn't it?",Frieza asked when he saw me.

"Yeah."I said. My voice came out raspy. I didn't realise I was thirsty till then.

"Thirsty?" I nodded. That blood water looked pretty good right now. "Go ahead."he said. I'm pretty sure he could tell that I was about to jump in even if he wouldn't let me.

I sat on my knees and scooped up the water from the blood red stream with my bare hands. I smiled before taking a sip. It tasted amazing, so refreshing. I had to have more. I'll never take water for granted ever again especially if they start giving me this water.

Frieza strolled over to me and lifted my chin up just as I was about to have another sip. He smiled before wiping a bit of the red liquid from the corner of my lip. We stared into each other's eyes, cliche I know but who can resist those ruby pupils.

He leaned closer to me, our lips almost touching. "Why'd you bring me here?"I asked before anything could happen. His mouth gapped as he moved away from me.

"Can't I just be nice?" I cocked a brow at him and he sighed.

"Ok I'll admit I have my own selfish reasons."he said before pushing me into the stream. I struggled to swim up, with the cuffs and all but eventually made it up. I could see the corner of his lip perk up. He found this amusing.

I pulled myself out of the water and plopped down on my back for a breather.

"Oooh. I must say you look divine in red." I scanned myself and found out that I look like the first person that dies in horror movies. Not bad.

I grinned as he got closer to me. "Maybe it'll look better ok you." I said before grabbing him and tossing him in the water. He gasped for air as soon as his head was out of the water.

Even wet in what looked like blood, he looked divine.

He soon got out and glared at me. I just smiled. He sat next to me. It was weird. My captor, torturer, reason for my pain and I were sitting in a comfortable silence on black grass next to a stream of blood red water.

It's a fun game we play if I might say. Another thing I enjoy about our relationship.

We share the bond of pain, love of others suffering, psychopathic tendencies and our weird roleplaying sessions.

Today was a fun one. Prisoner and captor. Next time I'm thinking Queen and slave. He's in for a treat.

Soon I heard a noise. I noted it coming from his scouter.

"Looks like times up."he sighed. "Too bad, I was enjoying having you at my mercy."

He undid the cuffs and rubbed my sore wrists.

"You were weren't you?"I grabbed his chin and pulled him closer to me. I slowly licked his bottom lip before biting it which caused a moan to escape his lips. What a masochist.

"Well sweetie. After we're done conquering Planet Cremona you're in for quite a treat."

"Why do I feel like I should be nervous?",he teased.

"I don't know.",I said as I got up. "Because you should be scared."I said in a menacing tone before walking towards the ship. I stopped and glanced over my shoulder and noticed that he was only a few steps away.

"Be honest, was that real blood?"

"A sadistic man never tells."he replied. Now my curiosity was peaked but in a way I knew the answer.

I'm glad that it's all over though, I needed a bath and this whole acting thing was tiring.

Ah, Frieza my love.

He's a sadistic fxck that's caused me nothing but pain...but what can I say, I'm a sucker for pain.

[nataliesnews]

Riots, demonstration in Kikar Zion, siren 12.5.2021

Netanyahu is no fool….he is very very clever and many of us had a suspicion of what he was leading up to. I would not be surprised if he calls a state of emergency and continues with his vicious policy of not caring for the county but doing his best to keep himself, his mentally ill wife and son out of jail. Sara Netanyahu once said she did not care if the country burned…and they have succeeded in bringing us to that pass. The first picture is a quote of hers from 2002…… “We will go overseas and the country can burn” and the second a cartoon saying “I said we would leave for overseas and then the country can burn….NOT BEFORE”

    This is a horrible morning. I am trying to put my thoughts into place. The whole country is burning. Tel Aviv. Suddenly after all the years of the south suffering and as they say, they were invisible it has become serious. I doubt that in Jerusalem there will be many more rockets. Maybe because of the holy places, Christian and Moslem, maybe because of the large Palestinian community. I feel guilty as I sit here quietly writing.

 Netanyahu has done a good job of seeing the Israel on fire. Closing the steps at the Damascus gate …so obvious it would lead to troubles. He knew that he only had to give a small push and with his friend the minister of police everything would develop as it suited him. The news media has also been given its instructions and except for Ha’aretz no other paper mentions what is happening on the other side. Today a comment was passed which many people probably did not hear or take in. That the army would target high rise buildings……in which many families live. The army gave messages for people to evacuate……where were they supposed to go and how many of them actually got the message as we have taken care to destroy much of their communication.

 Sunday I did not feel well and it was a furnace outside. Since the episode where I had memory loss and then straight after that had a cold ….many people here dafke in summer are also sick with colds….I feel a lack of desire to do anything.  So  I only went to the shiva for Cecelia in the evening.  My Spanish teacher. I doubt I will go on trying to learn Spanish. I feel as if something has gone out of me. I had a special relationship with her and she was also my friend. I cannot imagine another teacher or a group. And at the shiva it seems that many of her other students felt the same. And every day I hear from someone else who had studied with her.

 Monday I went out with Tag Maier to distribute flowers in the Old City to Palestinians. It was a difficult today because seldom do Ramadan and Jerusalem Day coincide.

 But this is no united city. So divided, Right and left, Palestians, Jews, Hareidi Jews, …united? And yesterday the schism was even clearer. The religious youth took over the city and their arrogance was unbearable. Some of our members gave flowers to them and when I asked one why she had done so, she said she had many interesting exchanges with some of them who did not even know what we were doing or why. But I saw some of them throwing the  flowers into the rubbish bins. No Palestinian refused us and accepted with a smile.

 In the evening I went to my Arabic lesson. I get a lift with Gershon and Edna Baskin and we had just sat down when we heard  a siren. It was faint at first and we looked at one another in bewilderment. Then we heard three loud bangs and realized it was serious. I wondered what was happening in Nofim. I wondered how all these people here, many of whom are less mobile and quick than I am even on the sticks would get down to a shelter. Later I saw the post that one should look for a safe place in your flat as there is very little time between the siren and the fall. So that question is where. My bedroom ….the glass door is next to the bed. The lounge….the windows again. The bathroom….the mirror and the tiles. The corridor is maybe the safest but there are all the painting and photographs in glass. I think the best place for me is next to my door and to put a blanket over myself. I am just sorry for the really old and incapacitated with their carers.  We spent the lesson learning all the words necessary for such an occasion. We came home to a quiet night and then all hell broke through.  Later: My cleaning lady said I should go and sit on the steps between one floor and another.

 Coming back there was an amusing incident. As I got out of the car I saw two girls putting coke tins next to the rubbish and I told them to give them to me. I explained to them what it was for and then the one girl said to me, “Are you from Balfour? Were you at Sheik Jarrar.” And again I know you have all been writing to me to stay home but when two teenagers tell me that they look up to me and for them it is important to see me at these places what can I say? Truly I don’t think I am in any danger. I keep to the sides or anything going on and I doubt that even our violent police would attack an old woman. But whom I am scared of is groups like Lahava or those yesterday on the march of the religious. I feel the hatred around us as I did last night with people calling us haters of Israel and traitors and bitches who fuck Arabs.

 Yesterday I went to the doctor as the time has come to deal with a hearing problem I have and then to the DCO which was very quiet. There is a young soldier there who has been very sympathetic towards us and is now being transferred. He brought his replacement out and this I do not put in my report. Nadav says that when he leave the army he will join Breaking the Silence. He said that his replacement is a good fellow so we are hoping that we will have the same relationship with him.

  I came home and then went to a play. “The Comedians.” It was very funny but I laughed looking at the audience as it was so appropriate for many of us. From a play by Neil Simon about two once famous comedians who are  now uber bottled. When I went out I asked three people to tell the organizer of the transport that I would not be joining them. Later she phoned in anger to ask why I was not on the bus!!! It was so appropriate. I had sat down to phone a friend and when I got up to leave the theatre which was by then pretty deserted I saw a really old lady with her carer sitting outside looking desperate. It turned out that the theatre had ordered a taxi for them and another couple had jumped in and taken it. Being the celebration of Id Il Fitir there were few Arab taxis and they are  a large part of the taxis in Jerusalem.  In the end I stayed with them until I managed to stop a taxi and put them on the way home. I gave them the number of Gett taxi which is more reliable.

 I walked down to the city and stopped at Balfour where some of the stalwarts were sitting. The demonstration at Kikar Zion started off with few people but soon grew. There was no talk of a march but then people did start walking down the main street and also on the tracks of the light train. I did not think that that was a good idea and walked along with them but on the pavement. The police arrived but did nothing. Then we came to Kikar Zion, to the square,  where we gathered and in no way were we disturbing pedestrians, the train or anything else. Then the police decided to attack. I think because where we were walking before there were passers by and wanted it to be where they had us to themselves. First of all they started pushing people back but then we saw that they had brought in the dogs and what dogs. Their trainers could hardly control them and the dogs also started fighting amongst themselves. You can understand how dangerous they were. They were real killers.  I have no photographs as everything was very volatile there and I did not want to put my sticks down. They also tried to sic them on to some people. Then they came with the horses….enormous . You have no idea. My question is why when we were obstructing traffic did they do nothing but attack us when we were not bothering anyone else.

 In the meantime Lahava and the other young fascists had started screaming at us…the police kept us separated but when the police managed to drive us off they left them celebrating in the square.

 I always stand to the back at such times but Eitemar who has stood with us at our demonstrations at Nofim refused to leave me and when one of the policemen seemed to be heading straight for us called to him and said that he was standing with me. He is one of those who is very watchful for me but I tell them to go and do their own thing as I do not want to be a drag on anyone. Last night I yelled at them and said that for 81 years I had been looking out for myself and I could still do so. But when the shunk came we were all away.

 Natalie

       .

[choiceenvironment]

Shorty’s Fight

Shorty is so deserving of the proper surgery to save her leg.  I feel horrible that I can not afford to provide her with it. With so many people struggling, I hate to ask for this kind of financial help, but I have no choice.  I have to try for her sake. Our local small town community has already sponsored the costs to saving her, with help from the wonderful (Strathmore Veterinarian).  The donations gave the vet enough to amputate her tail and cast her arm from a broken Radial bone. Including an anonymous donor that paid her intake. I believe it is because the town knows her, she has gone into stores, got the mail with me and all my clients love her. Since then (2 weeks ago) something has gone wrong and the Ulnar bone which had a hairline fracture has now broken fully, the only option now is amputate her front left arm for $2000 or Surgery for $4500 to save the arm. She is in a lot of pain, this breaks my heart for her and she does not deserve to suffer. I have been told by some that she is just a cat, That I should just do what ever is cheapest and/or put her down. But she is not just a regular cat, her personality captures anyone who meets her but not in the cuddly way most would think. This is my story of the most unique cat I have ever known. "Sam Shorty" 2 years ago I was looking for a small companion cat that I could bring to work at my newly opened print shop. I thought it would be great to keep the mice away, I was lonely as I worked alone and I had some struggles coping with stress. My store was opened in 2017, Since then my entire store was flooded and I lost all my inventory with no help from insurance because it was "overland flooding" - Jerks! They didn't help at all.  But my community did! Since then I lost my father, 2 brothers and covid took away my events which used to pay for my store rent.  I hosted, cooking and paint classes for kids when they were off school.  I also trained people who struggle to learn computer skills and building their own resume. I honestly needed to find a daily companion and furry friend.  My first thought was to catch or coax one of the Ferrell cats around town because I would be "giving them a better life".  So I thought. ha ha ha But the stray cats around town are pretty happy just eating the field mice and being wild and free.  No worries, just play, eat and sleep, I am almost jealous except in winter time. ha ha ha So after weeks of desperately trying to make friends with the Ferrell's I gave up and realized that all I was doing was creating Night Fights from all the food I kept leaving out. The neighbors must have loved that. ha ha ha They did keep all the outside mice away, but funny...I seemed to end up with more mice inside the store. ha ha ha Moving forward I checked online for any cats needing a home and oddly at that time frame there was none?  People even tried catching their own farm Ferrell's to no avail.  Well I was determined so I planned to go on the weekend to buy one SOMEWHERE lol, didn't know where but I was determined. Saturday morning we planned for a Sunday trip to the city.  But I was feeling really down so I prayed.  I honestly prayed to God and asked for help in sending me a cat that needs the most help. See, Although I want a companion for my sake I also want to return the favor to my friend, I want to be doing something good. 2 hours later I was cleaning up some things in the shed and my husband says "I think there is something behind the quad" Sure as shit there was a kitten!  So we ran and told my daughter to grab a can of tuna and after a few attempts I was able to quickly grab her scruff and pull her into my scarf. She fought hard but only for a few seconds, then she tucked her head into my hair and didn't move. I walked around with her for a bit and she seemed to like it.  Eventually I set her on my bed and she just stared at all of us like she was in shock.  Pretty sure she was freaking out. ha ha ha Her eyes were full of gunk, she was so badly filled with worms and she pooped all over my bedroom, my bed, but I could care less. Funny story - she even gave me worms which is very rare! The first night she was so afraid that she would only lay on the window sill.  Shorty was so stunted and small that we called her shorty.  Also because her tail was the smallest tail we had ever seen. While she was going from the window to the liter box and back up to the window sill, her litter was getting stuck to her feet and a small amount kept dropping into my bedside drinking glass. Lets not get into details, but I drank a lot of water that night. ha ha ha - I still laugh at this cause she was worth it. It took a long time to get her back to health, we thought she was dead a few times when she would not move for hours. We eventually got her fixed and with consistent food she began to grow :) and although small she is one tough kitty. I had her on a leash when we would go for walks, camping or to work.  But eventually I just felt like she missed the wild. When we were camping it poured rain one year so bad, but she did not want to leave the brush beside the fire and I realized she was hunting mice! She would be soaking wet and I would try to take her inside with me but she would get so mad, growl and kick her back paws on me.  So in return for her friendship I sat in the rain with her for hours so she could listen to the wilderness and hunt mice.  She even caught one that year but her excitement caused her to lose it and it ran away. She would stand on her back feet and sway her head like a crazy person filled with glee, she looked like a playful bear. Shorty would finally want to go to bed around 11 pm, but at the crack of dawn she would be sitting on her leash staring at me and using her "mind powers" to wake me up.  She is very polite and tries not to disturb me while I sleep.  So sweet. I decided that if I truly love her I would have to let her have her own freedom and if she loved me too, she would return home. At first when I took her off her leash, Shorty would stay with me as I gardened or worked in the yard.  But eventually she left the yard for a day and night. But she returned and before the incident she would come and go on the hour. Shorty could be dead asleep on the piano ( her favorite spot) and she would know if another cat stepped on her property.   So would we, because all of a sudden she would run upstairs to the bedroom windows, then down to the basement windows. Sometimes she would "Scobie Doo"  around the corners then race to be let out the back door. All the neighborhood cats are free out here and go as they please.  They are also bigger than her! But she puff's up, spits and kicks her back feet like she is the toughest little girl in the world. Climbing is her favorite and she always has to show me.  She will run up the tree and if I am not watching her Shorty meows at me and scratches harder on the tree. She loves to run and show off how fast she is, her favorite game with my daughters is what we call "the chase game" That's where the kids will get a foot from her and she will run to the other side of the yard and lay down.  Then she rolls and shows her tummy, so the girls walk up to pet her and when they are a foot from her she runs back to the other side. She loves it. Shorty does not cuddle, wont let strangers touch her and only comes to me "Mom" Now the sad part -  We rescued a Pitbull and have spent month retraining her as she was abused and left to freeze in the cold.  Her name is Calypso. She cowers to many things and we thought we were getting her back to normal. Her prey drive was bad, but the cat and her were beginning to play and we began lowering our guard. I never left them in a room alone together, I still always supervised just encase. But 2 weeks ago I was in court awaiting a verdict on a local exploitation of a minor case.  The judge called guilty, we cried with relief and became overwhelmed as it had been a year long uncertain battle.  By the system prevailed! AS we celebrated on the way home I got a call from my daughter, the dog had got upstairs and the cat was bleeding. I tried to keep my daughter calm and a Neighbour ran to my house to see how bad it was. When I got there, the floor had a trail of blood and a pool of blood behind the couch. But it is not the dogs fault, she is a sweet sweet dog that just wants to be loved.  The dog took to me the moment we met and her jealousy took her over along with her natural instinct. Just as the cat needs to hunt mice, the dog wants to hunt too.  It part of them and I hold no fault to either of them. We called the nearest vet who responded with "we are booked unless you want to just bring her in and put her down?" Yah we hung up on them. Then we called Strathmore Vet and while bawling I explained that I had absolutely no money, I had no idea how to get any money but I would do anything to save her. The vet worked tirelessly through the night and all the next day.  Shorty had her tail amputated, and a second time from the damage.   Luckily she had enough blood to rebuild and just a fractured radial bone.  They tried there best to cast the arm but gave me a 50/50 chance of keeping it. The last two weeks of healing, Shorty has been such a trooper.  We have been trapped in my room since but I think she knows its only so she can heal.  I have not gone to work or left her side. I thought she was getting depressed the last few days but yesterday we found out its pain, from the second bone finally giving out. Shorty deserves to keep her leg and she deserves proper care.  The feeling of not being able to provide this to her is horrible. I cant even afford the amputation. With amputation I wonder if I will ever let her back outside? There is 2 jerks on our street that always speed and with her only having 3 legs I would be too worried that someone would run her over. Most people in our town will actually stop and let a cat cross the road, we are always watching for children and the speed is basically 30 klm/hr over the entire hamlet or Carseland. This is my last resort. I have tried to phone Pet Card to get approve for a pet loan but I don't make enough.  I actually don't make anything since covid and have been operating my print shop at a loss for 6 months. My customers have been hit hard, they don't have the money to pay anymore.  Its not their fault and I have stayed close with all my clients because I truly understand what they are going through. I tried selling all my game consoles i have collected since I was 12, that didn't pan out. The stress of everything gave me shingles, so I have 4 bags of bottles to take in and I am now better so I can actually take them in, but that's not going to help her today. So I am here asking for help because Shorty deserves better and I am okay with putting myself out there for her. She really deserves a chance to keep her freedom and live the happy life she had before. Thank you so much for reading, sharing or considering helping my little girl. My love to you all Jennifer

[seize-the-droid]

Endless List of OC Playlists ☆ Keira & Jason [ Featuring an old graphic I made on Polyvore before they shut down the site without warning ]

1) STAND BY ME // Bootstraps

❝Oh, I won't be afraid / just as long as you stand, stand by me❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmVnGQSlw3k ]

I had to include this song or else I don’t think it would have been a Power Rangers playlist. This version absolutely KILLS me. This song was included in the Power Rangers 2017 soundtrack and it hits hard. This song not only represents Keira and Jason’s relationship but their relationship with the other rangers. What makes the Rangers, ‘the Rangers’ is how they are willing to do anything for each other, some rangers are willing to go further than others. For Keira and Jason, this song means that even through the darkest times, they will stand by each other no matter what.

2) WHEREVER YOU WILL GO // Charlene Soraia

❝If I could, then I would / I'll go wherever you will go / way up high or down low / I'll go wherever you will go❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DChHEf0lpEE ]

Out of all of the songs I picked for this playlist, I think this is the song that screams Keira and Jason to me. The way Charlene Soraia’s voice strikes a chord and makes my heart ache makes me feel like this is the perfect song for the two of them. With the two of them living more dangerous lives as Rangers, they didn’t know if they would make it past tomorrow. They would follow each other to the ends of the earth and if something were to happen (and some things have), neither of them would be able to move on. (side note: this is one of my favorite songs on this playlist and in general. Everyone should listen to this cover)

3) FALLING IN // Lifehouse

❝But it's over, without you I'm just lost, incomplete / yeah you feel like home, home to me.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBtd1rOMOCE ]

This is another song that screams Keira and Jason to me. While Wherever You Will Go is a much slower (and sad) song revolving around the possibility of loss, Falling In expresses the emotions of that initial feeling of falling in love. I could totally see Jason sprinting to Keira’s house the moment he realizes that he’s in love with her. There wouldn’t be any warning. He would be laying on his bed, finishing up some homework when it would just hit him. When he figures it out, he wouldn’t be able to keep it in for very long. When he shows up at Keira’s front door, he realizes how crazy he must seem and how frightening it is to be in love with someone (especially for the first time), but screw it. He loves her and (hopefully) she loves him.

4) ONE AND ONLY // Adele

❝I don't know why I'm scared / I've been here before / every feeling, every word / I've imagined it all.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLla9PYtcoc ]

Everyone has that moment when they have feelings for someone, played out the entire situation in their head but still doesn’t know how to express those feelings. During the duration of Jason and Keira’s friendship before they started dating, she knew something was different between the two of them. She wasn’t oblivious to the fact that Jason had made many advances towards her, but she was still confused as to why she’s hesitant to ask him for his love after having rehearsed it in her head a million times before. It’s a common symptom of love blossoming between close friends – having been around him for so long yet experiencing a loss for words when wanting to move forward in a relationship.

5) TRUE COLORS // Justin Timberlake

❝This world makes you crazy / And you've taken all you can bear / Just, call me up / 'Cause I will always be there.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECO3ARGisF8 ]

Both Jason and Keira have their insecurities. Jason thinks everything he touches gets screwed up, while Keira has a habit of keeping things bottled up. Sometimes they think that the world is against them. And the both of them have their break down moments. Most of the time it results in one calling the other and lying in silence all night just holding each other. When you break down, I’ll be there. That’s what this song represents, those moments when they’ve taken all they can and just let it all go.

6) YOU MATTER TO ME // Drew Gehling & Jessie Mueller

❝Come out of hiding, I'm right here beside you / and I'll stay there as long as you'll let me / because you matter to me.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=js8lCNubzdY ] 

Keira is a very introverted person and the idea of being in a relationship with anyone, let alone Angel Grove’s fallen Golden Boy scared the crap out of her. This song is about a woman who has been abused and afraid to love, but a handsome stranger comes along, convinces her to come out of hiding and let him love her. The lyrics really hit hard because everyone wants to matter to someone even if they are scared. Keira was that person. She was scared to love someone, but Jason let her know that she mattered to him and he wasn’t going anywhere.

7) DON’T YOU WORRY CHILD // Swedish House Mafia

❝Don't you worry, don't you worry, child / see heaven's got a plan for you.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fytp6BkJwDU ]

Everyone worries about how their life is going to turn out or if they’re messing the whole thing up. This song is about accepting your life how it is, there is a plan for you and you’re right on track. With everything that is/was going on in both Keira and Jason’s lives, they have their doubts about whether or not they’re doing it right. But there’s a reason for everything and a plan in place.

8) AS LONG AS YOU LOVE ME // Sleeping At Last

❝I don't care who you are / where you're from / what you did / as long as you love me.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VxQE5GcyIqc ]

This song talks revolves around the idea that it doesn’t matter the background, as long as you love them, nothing else matters.  Jason was the Golden Boy quarterback who fricked up real badly. And it’s painfully obvious that he beats himself up about it. Luckily for Jason, Keira couldn’t give two sh.its about Jason’s reputation. She didn’t like him for the fact that he was the football player at their high school and she didn’t care that he messed the whole thing up (she cared that he almost killed himself in the process of escaping from the cops, but that’s a different story). She knew that he didn’t like the whole football gig anyway, his dad just wanted him to be a football star. Keira loves him for who he is as a person. Jason is a kind, passionate and loving person, his life shouldn’t revolve around something he doesn’t love.

9) FALLING SLOWLY // Arthur Darvill

❝You have suffered enough / And warred with yourself / It's time that you won.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqB_ozuCjRw ]

This is the title song for this playlist. I think this is a good song to describe Jason and Keira pre-relationship. Even though they have known each other since elementary school, it wasn’t until high school when the feelings started. They knew of each other but didn’t really know each other. The moment that he walked away from Keira after hitting her in the face with a football, he knew that he wanted to know all about her. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do about the situation and the things he felt. After the awkwardness passed and they became friends, he realized he was slowly falling for her. She made him feel like no one else had. Keira had a tough time and battled with letting herself love Jason. But slowly, she learned to love him and discovered that what they felt was real. That’s what this song is about, getting to know someone and slowly but surely loving them with all you have.

10) SUNDAY MORNING // Maroon 5

❝Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm / change the weather, still together when it ends.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXdlHueax2U ]

Jason and Keira’s relationship has its ups and its downs. Much like many any other relationship. But, when times get a little better and ‘skies look clear’ they’ll be together in the end. Through the difficult times, they’ll still stick together. That’s one of the reasons this song represents the two of them. Another reason is just the lazy morning factor of it. Just waking up on a Sunday morning, probably dead tired from training all night and just basking in each other's company. They don’t have to be intimate. It’s just a moment where they can just relax and not think about all the crazy stuff going on, just focusing on each other.

11) WHAT THE HECK I GOTTA DO / Anthony Ramos & Original Cast of 21 Chump Street

❝What the heck I gotta do to be with you?❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxZ_rixvzZU ]

This is one of those kinda funny songs. It’s all about a guy trying to convince a girl to go out with him (in which she dodges his advances). It’s a more modern take on liking someone in high school and how teens usually go about it. It makes me chuckle when I think about Jason trying his best to get Keira to go out with him, but she is just not having it (she had a hard time at first, but the more he persisted the more she secretly loved it). Eventually, she just says, “I’ll think about it.”

12) CAN’T STOP THE FEELING // Justin Timberlake

❝I got that sunshine in my pocket / got that good soul in my feet.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lz2lLTlUcxQ ]

This song is Keira and Jason’s go to jam. They enjoy going on car rides and road trips, it’s one of their favorite things to do together. Keira is usually in charge of the music and whenever this song comes on, the volume goes up and the ugly singing comes out. By the time the song is over they’re both laughing so hard that Jason almost swerves into oncoming traffic (he’s not the best driver).

13) IRIS // Boyz Ⅱ Men

❝No one knows me quite the way you know me / and I'd be lonely without you beside me.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kGfe26GyYjU ]

I love this version of this song. The harmonies give me goosebumps. But anyways, this song reminds me of Jason and Keira’s relationship. It’s all about being afraid to show who you really are and the two of them are like that. Even though they are close to the other Rangers, there’s just something about their relationship that gives them the courage to share everything with each other. With the two of them becoming so close, no one else really knows who they are deep down except for each other. They put on a face, try their best to please others and be something that they’re not. But both of them know that they could trust each other with who they really are. And that’s special.

14) I GET TO LOVE YOU // Ruelle

❝One look at you, my whole life falls in line.❞

[ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGAzVbQC-18 ]

This song is about just looking at the person you love and realizing how lucky you are to love them. Jason and Keira have a habit of staring at each other when the other isn’t looking. Classic in love, admiration eyes. When they look at each other, they know everything is okay and organized. They understand why they’re here. They would put each other’s happiness over their own. They’ll forever love each other and don’t need anyone else.