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jenosbliss · 7 months ago

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Hi, can I req for jaemin enemies to lovers with 4, 16 & 23?

pairing. fem!reader x enemy!jaemin | genre. fluff | wc. 2k | warnings. none

a/n. i’ve idea for a part 2 , will probably post it after sometime

‘Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.’ I once read in a book which I regretted reading afterwards but again in another book I read ‘Hating someone feels disturbingly similar to being in love with them.’ The book which goes by the name The Hating Game.

I would have loved that book if it wasn’t an enemies to lovers trope, the only form of romance I dislike the most. Enemies-to-lovers is something which could not exist in real life, you can never fall in love with your enemy, someone you hate from the bottom of your heart. At least I can’t with Na Jaemin .

Not that I want to fall in love with him —it’s even scarier than my worst nightmare— but even thinking about loving or liking that jerk makes me want to throw up.

Yes, you can also say that it’s all just in my head how my friends remind me everyday and who so happily enjoy watching our bickering, our death glares at each other, our hatred for each other. They are living in the daily soap they spend hours watching because only both of us can see the anger and hatred dripping from our eyes.

Even friendship can’t exist between us, jokes on me to even think of friendship when we can’t stand each other if we are in the same room, as snarky comments and death glares fly across the room. No one can stand us together to be honest.

Why do I hate him? I don’t know when my hatred for him even started, maybe it was hate at first sight. Such a self-absorbed, cocksure, smug, stubborn jerk he is. The way he walks, the way he talks, the way he smiles, the way he looks —he’s handsome almost like a Greek God, but I’m not going to accept it— just his whole existence pisses me off. Also not like he ever gave me a reason to change the way I felt for him cause he reciprocates my feelings, if not more.

“I’m not sharing the room with him.” Trying my best to tone my voice down I yelled at my friend who was allotting the rooms. “Y/n try to understand please, we don’t have any more rooms left.” She pleaded, pulling me inside her room.

When my friends asked me if I wanted to be a part of this two-day holiday to the beach, never had I imagined that when I would enter the room of the hotel we’re staying for the weekend I would find him sprawled –like a starfish– on the bed, the bed I was supposed to spend the night peacefully on!

“But you know I can’t stand him even for a second! No, change his room.” huffing, I crossed my arms around my chest. “But all the other rooms are occupied y/n, you came late so…” she trailed off, fueling my anger even more. “I didn’t turn up late on purpose! I had informed you beforehand that I’ll be late!” Looking behind her I saw a figure coming out of the bathroom.

“Maybe your boyfriend, who happens to be his friend” rolling my eyes I continued “can switch the room with me?” That’s the most I can give in, I’m ready to switch the rooms which should’ve been him instead. “C’mon Y/N! I understand the tension between you two is as high as Mount Everest…” gasping dramatically I passed her an offensive look, there was no tension between us, it was just hate.

Ignoring me she continued “… but everyone has needs and I have a life too, I want to spend some time with my boyfriend. So will you please let us? It’s just a matter of tonight. We’ll sort something out tomorrow. It's already past 2, go sleep.” Even before she finished her short monologue I was pushed out of the room with a large wooden door slammed shut in my face.

Was she for real? If she planned this whole trip just to fuck her boyfriend she didn’t have to ask me! Why make my already not so good life even worse? Stomping my way aggressively to the room I grabbed my head in frustration.

“It’s just for a night, you can do it y/n. Calm down. Relax.” Taking a deep breath I tried to prepare myself, “Or you always have a second option if things go out of your hands, killing” A little voice inside my head said. It’s not like this voice has appeared for the first time. Last week when he “accidentally” spilled his iced tea on me, I was about to throw the chair I was sitting on his face. This voice appeared that time too. “I don’t wanna go to jail because of such a useless human.” I thought.

“You know it’s better to sleep than making plans to kill me and I’m not useless.” The door opened to reveal him with an utterly idiotic smirk. Can he read minds too? Okay I’m in trouble then, no I didn’t think anything for which you should smirk too but all my plans of tricking him will be known.

“Are you a stalker or what?” Pushing him away I entered the room, which was supposed to be mine. “No darling, your footsteps can be heard around ten miles from here. I just happen to have great hearing skills.” He whispered the last part.

I could have replied, I could have continued this which would soon turn into bickering but I was too tired for that, I just wanted to sleep peacefully, ironically peace and Na Jaemin don’t come together. So let me change my statement, I just wanted to sleep at any cost.

“Here, take the pillow, sleep on the couch.” Throwing the fluffy white material filled with soft feathers at him, I started unpacking my bag to take out my night clothes. “And why should I listen to you?” He plopped down on the bed, stretching out. “Jaemin, right now I’m not in the mood to argue.” Raising my hand, I shook my head.

“Neither am I, but I’m as stubborn as you. Which means I am not sleeping on the couch.” Closing my bag I faced him, as stubborn as me? It’s not a good start, it can never be with him. “Why are you like this?” Scowling, I moved to the bathroom. “Why are you like this?” He mimicked. God, save this guy from me.

Coming back to the room after changing my clothes I saw him still lying on the bed, scrolling through his phone. Rolling my eyes out of annoyance I walked up to my side of the bed and started putting the spare pillows and cushions between us. “Is this really necessary?” Sparing a glance at what I was doing he asked.

“Very much necessary, I don’t want to wake up with your limbs around me in the morning.” Even the thought of it disgusted me. “But this is eating up too much space.” He complained. “Better than you eating me-” Realising how wrong that must have sounded I looked at him, who had that mischievous smirk which made me furious. “That one sounds better.” He lied back down.

“Shut that mouth of yours and sleep.” Switching off the lights I faced the other direction. “It's hot when you talk back, princess.” He teased, I hate these nicknames so much!

I shouldn’t have come on this trip, everything about it was wrong. First, sharing the room with Jaemin , almost fighting with my friend and the worst of all coming even though I twisted my ankle –the sole reason I was late– to the hotel. My left ankle felt as if someone was slowly cutting it off with a sharp axe, it’s so painful!

Groaning, I shifted to the other side, trying to get in a comfortable position to fall asleep, forgetting about the man next to me. “Are you uncomfortable?” A husky voice made my eyes shoot open to find the sleepy ones of Jaemin already on me. “What do you expect when you’re lying next to me?” Scoffing, he shifted closer much to my dismay.

“Look I know your ankle hurts cause Junhee told me you’re at the hospital getting your ankle treated so don’t try to pull up an act.” Taken aback by his interest in me –I know she’ll never tell him about my whereabouts until he asks– I questioned further. “Why did you ask her about me?” How dumb of me to raise an eyebrow as if he would see it.

For the first time in the three years I have known him he stuttered when talking to me, was he that taken aback by my question? Omg y/n don’t forget to write it in your diary. “H-huh? I- I…” he cleared his throat “I thought I was using this room alone when Junhee came and asked if you could stay in this room too as you were late and there weren’t any spare rooms left… so I asked why you were late…” this sounds convincing, not very much but it does.

“Oooh. By the way, what about your girlfriend? Shouldn’t you be on this trip with her and the one you should be sharing the room with?” I smirked. My eyes were begging me to sleep but my brain forced me to put up this question. “We broke up a year ago.” He deadpanned as I facepalmed myself mentally. What a stupid question!

“So you haven’t dated for a year?” I gasped genuinely shocked. “Yes.” Wait really, the OH SO GODLY Jaemin hasn’t dated anyone FOR A YEAR!! “Not even a fling?” I was about to get up but the stinging pain in my ankle pulled me back. “You own my heart” he said, was it my heart skipping a beat? No y/n don’t be fooled by him! “C’mon tell me.” Slapping lightly on his arm I whined.“No. Not even a fling.” He repeated. “Woah, wow! I mean it’s surprising.” It was surprising, at least to me. “Is it? Because I thought you knew the girl very well I’m interested in so I don’t think it should surprise you.” He whispered. Wait what?

Leaning his head on his elbow he stared in my eyes, even though it was dark –nothing could be seen as there was very little light coming from the curtained window– but his eyes shone in this darkness, as if they were the only source of light in this dark room, as if they are the most beautiful pair of eyes to ever exist, as if I could stare at them forever, as if I could drown in th-

‘What the hell are you thinking y/n!? You hate him, you can’t like him! He’s your enemy’ the same voice from before alarmed me, it was right, he’s my enemy…

“Did you take painkillers?” He questioned, eyes not leaving mine. “Yes, after dinner I did.” Neither did I break the gaze. “Then we can try this.” With this said he stood up, took two pillows –which were used to limit our respective bed spaces ‘by me’– and placed one of the pillows under my leg which had been aching and the other beside it as if securing my ankle.

“I hope it’s better than before.” His eyes creased, hinting the smile on his lips. “It is, thank you.” mumbling, I closed my eyes shut not wanting to let my thoughts move freely. ``Sleep y/n, you just need to sleep.’

“Sleep well y/n and don’t worry I won’t throw my limbs on top of you.” the mattress next to me dipped inwards, he had lied down, probably facing the other side I hope. Opening my eyes I looked at his face, so close to me… I really hate this guy.

I hate him because firstly he didn’t face the other side, secondly he made me feel all these weird things for him and thirdly, he didn’t keep his promise. After he had fallen asleep and probably I was too I felt his arms curling around my torso as he shifted closer to me.

I even heard him mumbling something along the lines of "It's time to stop lying to ourselves." Maybe I was dreaming, maybe not but I couldn’t care less right now because he felt warm, and I liked that warmth. Maybe he isn’t that bad, maybe I shouldn’t hate him this much.

navigwation.

nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

100 follower event 🌷

#nct dream #nct dream fluff #jaemin #nct dream x reader #jaemin imagines #jaemin fluff #jaemin x reader #nct fluff #nct #nct fics #nct imagines #nct jaemin #jaemin scenarios #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #enemies to lovers #na jaemin

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beardedmrbean · 1 month ago

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Jimmy Kimmel has admitted his own role in “dividing” America in a 19-minute, last-ditch plea to Republican voters ahead of next week’s presidential election.

The comedian abandoned his “usual roast” of Donald Trump and, while he still cracked jokes about the Republican candidate, struck a more serious tone by making an appeal to GOP supporters on Tuesday night’s Jimmy Kimmel Live.

“We are very divided, and not just because of Donald Trump, because of people like – if I’m being honest – me,” Kimmel said.

“I do a lot of mocking and belittling, and it isn’t always productive.”

Kimmel urged viewers to share his monologue with people in their lives who are “either planning to vote for Trump or thinking about it” and urged them to watch the entire thing.

“I promise I won’t make you regret it because it’s not going to be our usual roast of Trump or some kind of liberal virtue signaling, none of that,” Kimmel said.

In his monologue, the late-night host asked Republican supporters to consider some of the statements Trump has made directly over the years, starting with healthcare.

Kimmel played a montage of clips of Trump promising to announce a healthcare plan, with the dates ranging from 2016 up until the 2024 debate with Kamala Harris on September 10, where he said he “had concepts” of a plan.

“Donald Trump was president for four years,” Kimmel said.

“You would think that at this point he would have some answers, some kind of plan, for simple questions about subjects like healthcare and childcare.”

He also slammed Trump for fearmongering with unfounded claims of forced sex change operations in schools. “I understand this is a tough subject, but this alarm he keeps sounding, about forced sex change operations, this is not happening. This is an imaginary problem,” Kimmel said.

In a lighter moment, Kimmel returned to more familiar ground when he joked that Trump is “the exact meeting point between Q-Anon and QVC.”

“You remember when Ronald Reagan was selling high tops in the 80s? No, you don’t because he wasn’t,” Kimmel said.

“Reagan didn’t sell sneakers, Clinton didn’t sell pork rinds, Bush didn’t sell baked beans, presidents don’t sell products – except for one who sells a lot of them.”

Towards the end of his monologue, the comedian turned to a wall full of photos of Republicans, including those from Trump’s first administration, who have backed Harris and abandoned their support for Trump this election.

“This has never happened before,” Kimmel said.

#nunyas news #my goodness they're really scared they're going to lose #that's the candidate they chose doing that #couldn't control yourself for the whole thing tho could you jimmy

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amywritesthings · 1 year ago

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silver underground. / chapter 19.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 5.3k Summary: flashback nine - also known as the calm before the expedition Warnings: mentions of death, anxiety, mentions of betrayal, unhealthy coping mechanisms, fighting, sexual themes

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CHAPTER 18 - FLASHBACK: NINE

Nights turn into years.

The Scouts, to your surprise, take you in as their own.

They don’t question the nature of your connection with Captain Levi.

They don’t even ask about your time in the Underground City.

All they’re curious about is the now — the living, present air that surrounds you; the sun that's finally giving your skin a healthy glow; the comradery that’s kept this group alive longer than any of the Interior betting pools imagined.

Together.

That isn’t to say living with the Scout Regiment has been a breeze.

The surface is almost just as tough as living in the Underground but with more light. Fighting titans is difficult and all-around terrifying, but the Special Operations unit is an otherworldly beast fit to take them on.

At the lead of Commander Erwin and the collaboration between Levi and yourself following close behind, there are more victories in bringing people back to their families than catastrophic losses in numbers.

In terms of discovery, however, the Scouts are lacking in their mission to find anything substantial:

The villages still crawl with titans.

Breaching the forest in order to continue forward proves to be a point of no return Erwin can’t figure out by strategy alone.

The injured trek back to the Walls is always humbling. Over and over, you’re expected to deliver new information to the desperate — and oftentimes ungrateful — people behind the Walls.

They berate you in the streets, throwing food rations and calling you and the other good-for-nothing Scouts crude names.

You’re taught early to ignore it.

(You aren’t willing to explain to Petra and the others that you and Levi have dealt with much worse at much younger ages.)

Anyone with the Wings of Freedom quickly becomes a communal punching bag, but at least no one dies.

Maybe the runts of the litter get eaten — maybe the cocky ones perish, the reckless ones break their necks, the terrified ones kill themselves — but at least no one you know dies.

(You’re okay with not discovering what’s beyond the forest, if it means none of the Special Operations squad dies.)

It isn’t long before you’re introduced to someone who becomes a constant in your life:

Hange Zoe, Section Commander — Levi’s first friend in the Survey Corps.

And, as it stands, they seem pretty hellbent on becoming yours, too.

Hange is a wild-haired, glasses-wearing individual that prides themself on their extensive titan knowledge.

Just like Levi, they stumbled head-first into your life and never left.

They appears one foggy afternoon a few months into your Scout Regiment career. Their first day to headquarters was a memorable one.

You never anticipated the sheer amount of words that could come out of one person’s mouth. One lengthy monologue after the next, Hange caught you up to speed on the titan research program — whether you cared or not.

The Special Operations team was more than happy to trap you with Hange at the mess room table for hours so that they could be spared.

(According to Gunther, enduring their rants is just considered Special Ops hazing.)

Jokes on them: you were happy to listen, because Hange reminds you so much of Isabel.

It’s bittersweet, sharing meals and traveling with someone just as excited about the world as your young friend had been. They marvel at the little things that surround them, their smile as joyous and free as the late redhead that you once shared a cramped Underground City bedroom with.

Hange acts as though they’d known you their entire life.

They treat you as if you’d always been a friend, a very good friend, and you don’t shy from kindness the way Levi does.

Levi, on the other hand, acts like a malevolent cat in their presence, but Hange takes it in stride.

You know Levi well enough to know it’s all an act — Hange is just as much his favorite within the Scouts as they are yours.

You’re not one to believe in fate, but many a night staying up talking to Hange about a future they see feels like your life, this strange life, was meant to be.

That, through the comradery of the Scouts, you can learn to trust again, to laugh again, to reinvent yourself again — and not hang onto Levi’s every movement like his shadow.

You create your own space within the Special Operations squad; one where you are praised for your quick thinking, ODM maneuvering, and fearlessness in battle.

You grow your own friendships.

Hardships.

Inside jokes.

Celebrations.

Bonds forged by strength and by trauma.

(Your own shadow.)

“Oi, where’s Levi?”

You had been busy reading reports in your former bunk room, now morphed and redecorated into your Lieutenant’s quarters.

It’d been a few hours since the last short-term mission ended — you had nearly gotten your ass handed to you by an eight-meter titan with a particularly animated body. Where most titans walk slowly, aimlessly, this one had a frenzied mission. A desire to run.

According to Hange, they're calling them Abnormals.

They’re a new type of nightmare that only keep showing up more and more every trip outside the Walls.

“Hello, earth to James,” Hange sing-songs as they wander in.

You glance up, distracted.

“Hmm? Where’s Levi?” you repeat. “I don’t know, why?”

“Because you two always have a sixth sense on where the other is,” Hange reasons, flopping down in the chair across from you. “It’s freaky.”

“The person who talks to titans is calling me freaky?” you ask with a smirk playing on your lips.

“That’s when you know it’s the truth,” they reply, not skipping a beat. “What is that whole thing about, anyway?”

“What?”

“Sorry, let me rephrase. I never asked: Levi came into the Scouts, right? In all his grumpy glory. Then two months later, you joined us.”

You squint as a response to Hange’s presented puzzle.

“That guy is a hard nut to crack. You must have some kind of special sauce to get him to trust you so fast. Unless…”

The others still don’t know.

Well, they know — they know Levi is incredibly protective of you.

They know you look to his guidance before anyone else.

They know the two of you often disappear to spar.

(Surely they must know where you are almost every night but are too afraid to speak up. It doesn't hinder Scouting missions in the morning.)

“We knew each other before the Scouts,” you finally confess, and Hange’s eyes blow wide with the validation.

“I knew it,” they tell you, snapping their fingers. “The Underground City, right?”

You nod, folding the map in two. “Kids that grow up there stick together.”

The shift in Hange’s expression is almost comical, bordering on conspiratorial.

“Ah-ha. So you two have been fighting alongside one another for a long time. This puts my theory of a weird cranial connection to bed. It’s just childhood friendship.”

You have to try not to smirk. “Yup, just that. No conspiracies needed.”

“Well, that’s one mystery down.” They gesture to their bare neck with their index finger. “I’m still trying to figure out the deal with that, though.”

“Huh?”

“You know, the deal.” They lean over the table to blatantly point at the silver necklace peeking out of your button-down ivory shirt, its pendant sitting against your sternum. “With. That.”

Right.

The necklace you never took off. The necklace you care for with a delicate touch. The necklace that you sleep in, bathe in, fight in.

“It’s just a necklace.”

“Sure.” Their glasses slide down the bridge of their nose. “Just a necklace.”

You laugh, turning your report face down on the table. “Sounds like you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t.” Hange smirks. “I’m supposed to be observant, remember? Well, I have deduced in my observations—”

“Ooh, a deduction,” you tease.

“—that it has importance. So what gives? Does that have something to do with a certain someone?”

Too close to him.

You roll your eyes, sliding your hands from the table’s surface to lean back in the wooden chair.

“How come you wanna know about it so bad, then, if it’s just a necklace?”

“I said it isn’t just—”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, now you’re twisting my words.”

“And you’re about to lose your glasses,” you tell them, and they push the center up their nose in short defiance. “What’s the reason you’re so interested all of a sudden?”

Hange groans in the pale torch light, sliding down into their seat in dramatized agony. “Be-cause I saw a titan almost snap that thing in half and you went totally berserk.”

“So?”

“So! I saw how fast you sliced that thing up!” Hange chuckles. “Like you had a personal vendetta against the damn thing. That was supposed to be my new test subject, y’know.”

You chuckle low, burying your chin in the mouth of the emerald green cape around your shoulders. Under the fabric you hold the tiny gemstone, running it between your fingers with admiration.

“Titans should learn not to touch my shit, then.”

“Hey, shitheads.”

The deep voice makes you sit taller, lips parted with a greeting that never quite comes to fruition.

Hange stays hunched over the table as Levi steps into the room. His hand grips tightly around the circumference of a steaming tea cup.

“Hey, Levi,” Hange greets in return. “James was just telling me all about how you two knew each other before the Scouts.”

Levi shoots you a look, and your brow quirks. Nothing too big. His shoulders relax a fraction of an inch.

“Did you tell Four Eyes how I used to always win at spars?” He drops down in a seat at the table, draping his arm over the back.

“I would never lie to poor Hange like that.”

“It wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Would, too.” You gesture to Hange. “Section Commander, would you believe me if I said he won every fight?”

Hange squints. “I’d have to observe for myself.”

Levi smirks, his lips covered by the tea cup.

You groan, leaning over the table to plead your case. “Hange, you’re supposed to say yes.”

“Not without proper evidence!” Hange refutes.

You scoff. “Some friend you are.”

“See, Levi? She said I’m a friend,” Hange adds, pointing to you. They lean back. “One day you’re going to say the same thing.”

Levi snorts. “Sure, when I’m shitting myself dead.”

Hange squints at the raven-haired man. “Why is it always shit jokes with—”

“James.”

It’s neither Hange or Levi that says your name.

You turn to see Eld standing at the doorway of the kitchen.

He seems… uncertain of how to approach your bedroom despite how the door is already open for wandering company.

He shifts in his stance, clearing his throat.

“Commander Erwin wanted to speak with you,” Eld informs you, eyes flickering over your face.

The smile you have from your conversation with Hange begins to slowly fall.

“Something up?” Hange asks.

Eld ignores them, staring at you instead.

You turn your chin to Levi, but the captain doesn’t react. He continues sipping his tea in silence.

“Now?” you ask.

“Now,” he confirms.

You catch Hange’s eyes before pushing the chair out. “Alright, fine.”

It isn’t like Erwin to summon people, much less you. If he has something to say, he usually does so by seeking out the person in question himself.

Sending Eld only means that he may be discussing matters with the rest of the Levi Squad on an individualized basis.

Maybe it’s to debrief from the short mission a few hours ago.

Maybe he’s looking for counsel on the strategy map you’d been pouring over before Hange and Levi swung by.

Whatever it is, it doesn’t leave you with a great feeling in your gut.

Up the stairs and down a narrow corridor sits Erwin Smith’s office. He has the door slightly ajar, the room illuminated solely by half-lit candles.

You knock your knuckles against the wooden slab.

“Commander?”

Erwin is sitting at his desk with pages of letters, diagrams, and what you presume to be Hange’s crude drawings of the titans they had captured three months prior. His dark emerald trench coat hangs loosely from the chair’s back.

His piercing blue eyes lift, staring straight at you.

“Come in, Lieutenant.”

You were never a fan when he called you that.

Lieutenant — it was a fake title to keep the masses from ever questioning your spot on the Special Operations squad, same with Levi.

Citizens never questioned it. Military Police, however, were never a fan.

Yet when Erwin said it, it always followed with something you wouldn’t enjoy hearing. Like you were being chastised for something before you knew the crime you’d committed.

“Is something the matter?”

“Not explicitly, no,” Erwin tells you, dropping his gaze to his papers briefly before glancing back up. “Close the door, please.”

Great.

Something was wrong.

You roll your eyes, closing the door. Your back stays pressed against it, arms crossed over your chest.

Maybe Levi became close with Erwin throughout the years, acting as his right-hand man through the thick of battle, but you had no interest in crowding his flank.

You didn’t like the method to Commander Erwin’s madness. It often went to great lengths at the cost of others; casualties be damned so long as the mission was successful.

You’re certain that’s why the public hates all of you.

Erwin, however, does not cater to the public’s opinion of himself, not when he can keep pushing towards the forest no one can quite yet conquer.

“I need you to be honest with me, Lieutenant,” he sighs, pushing his papers to the side.

You quirk a brow, staying put against the door. “I didn’t eat the rest of the potatoes, if that’s what you’re about to accuse me of.”

The blonde smirks, albeit briefly. “No, it has nothing to do with food rations.”

For a moment, the two of you stare each other down. You clench your jaw and neutralize your expression as he tries to decipher you well before the inquiry is asked.

It’s a game of mental chess.

You won’t give him the satis—

“Lieutenant, what is your connection to Captain Levi?”

You pause.

This question sounds like a layered spring trap — step too close with a simple answer and Erwin has the potential to drown your words in assumptions and claims.

Your heart beats a little faster.

“You already know my connection to Captain Levi, sir.”

“You don’t need to sir me,” Erwin says, like the casual coolness of the statement will somehow ease the tension cinching your shoulder blades together. “And I never heard it from you, not directly.”

“Because you stuck my face in some mud and talked over me the day you made me think my business partners were dead,” you reply with little tact.

Erwin can’t help but smile at the snip. It’s annoying how he takes everything in stride.

“Yes. I didn’t give you much choice to explain yourself then, so I will ask you now.”

He locks eyes, and you can’t escape.

“What is he to you?”

Everything stills.

You don’t like where this is headed.

Although you spent plenty of nights in Levi’s bedroom, sometimes even switching it up to linger in yours, you both had been so careful to keep the relationship out of sight and out of mind.

You clench your jaw tighter. “Levi Ackerman is my former business partner, just the same as Isobel Magnolia and Furlan Church.”

“And?”

“And?” your brows knit. “And he is… a friend. Family.”

“A very close friend,” he surmises with a thick brow raised in question. “One you would move mountains to protect, yes? Even if you could not be beside him?”

The implications of his words instantly make you distrust the Commander’s intentions with this conversation.

While you feel close with the Scouts within the Special Ops squad, there is no mistake to be made: only one name rings true as your top priority.

And it isn’t Erwin. It isn’t Hange. It isn’t Petra, or Oluo, or Eld, or Gunther.

Fear grips your heart.

Like a cornered animal, you speak out of turn.

“Are you implying you have a plan to split us up?”

To move you to another squad.

It’s the first idea that pops into your panicked brain.

A captain and a lieutenant on one team didn’t really ring fair — not when you could lead up your own squad.

You don’t want to.

“Is that what this is? To gauge whether or not I’d be willing to transfer? To finally move me to some other squad so I can lead alongside Levi Squad?”

“No.”

“Because if the intent of this question on whether or not I would hurt someone that would try to separate us, Commander, then you are sorely mistaken to think that I would be alright with—”

“James,” Erwin coos, voice deceiving soft when he lifts a palm. “I have no intentions to separate or reorganize Levi Squad.”

You realize what you just blurted.

What you’ve revealed.

You gave him all of your cards, tossing them clear to the desk in front of you.

Fuck.

You close your mouth, afraid you’ve done something horrible wrong.

Erwin gives no sign of winning the upper hand in his expression. He does, however, keep his brow gentle.

“Something new came to my attention while you were on your mission,” he tells you with purpose in an effort to calm the tension in the room. “An opportunity to navigate the forest in full with the potential to eliminate the predicted death rate. Eighty percent to forty. Slashed in half.”

You stare, choosing your next words very carefully.

“The forest is untouchable.”

“It is.”

“The last strategy didn’t work.”

“I know, Lieutenant.” He leans back in his chair. “It’s a risky mission. One that requires the best Scouts I have at my disposal. I believe, if we use my new formation, then we can pierce through the forest and find our way on the other side.”

You try to connect the dots eons away from one another.

If Erwin wanted to give you a job, then why didn’t he just say it?

“...you know I’m willing to go, Commander,” you tell him, brows knit.

“I know you would be,” he replies, “but Captain Levi is not willing to take that risk.”

Your blood runs cold.

What?

Your chin juts abruptly to the left, head tilting as you try to process what he’s saying between the lines.

He knew you would say yes to the risky mission. You’re happy to take the risky missions.

But Captain Levi…

“What does Levi have to do with this?” you ask before you can help yourself.

“Levi came up with the strategy to breach the forest in conjunction with my formation, but he requested that I not allow you to join us.”

Erwin rests his palms against his ribcage, lacing his fingers together. He sighs through his nose, contemplating.

“You see, now, why I wanted to know what your relations were to him.”

That ice-cold stream in your veins quickly shifts to molten.

He went behind your back?

“Levi wouldn’t do that,” you murmur, but you're not certain when you speak.

(Because it wouldn’t be the first time, you realize; deep in your gut.)

“He did,” Erwin corrects. “He has. An hour ago, to be exact.”

While you were talking to Hange?

“I’m good for the mission, Erwin,” you tell him, using his first name despite how you feel about familiarity with him.

“I know you are, James,” he replies with less formality. “And I’m willing to bypass Levi’s wishes if you want to join us on the expedition beyond the forest.”

Your mouth dries up.

Everything feels… nauseating.

There is a betrayal festering in your belly, one you cannot ignore in front of Erwin.

You have to go.

You have to find Levi.

“Permission to be excused?” you abruptly request. “I think I need to speak with Captain Levi myself, but rest assured I am going on that expedition.”

“Excused, Lieutenant,” he signs off, staying seated.

You never rip open a door so fast in your life.

Your boots echo down the corridor, face hot with embarrassment and worry.

Why would he tell Erwin not to let you go?

Why would he do that behind your back?

You round the corner, headed straight for his bedroom. When your hand jiggles the knob, it’s locked shut.

Then you continue further down the hall to the next room on the opposite end.

Your room.

Levi continues to sip tea slowly at your table, reading over the map you had folded up with mild interest.

Hange is nowhere to be found.

Good. It’s easier if they’re gone.

“Ackerman.”

The abruptness of his last name has him as still as a statue.

Only his gray eyes flicker up past the cup, pausing in his sip. Your lip curls as you force the words out of your mouth.

“We’re sparring.”

Levi sets his tea up on the tiny saucer below. “Excuse me?”

“I said we’re going outside and fucking sparring, Captain,” you snarl. “Let’s go.”

Because you can’t yell at him.

Not here, not when there’s a possible audience in the echoing hallways.

You hear the wooden chair scrape across the floor, and slow boots step out into the hallway with you. You don’t look back.

Down the stairs, around the foyer, and out of the headquarter entrance you go — with every step, the more upset you get.

“This night has gotten dramatic,” he calls to you once he reaches the mouth of the sparring ring. “What did Erwin have to say?”

You turn on the heel of your boot, remaining silent.

You want him to say it first. To confess.

(You want him to prove that Erwin is lying.)

He doesn’t.

He just waits, infuriatingly patient.

“You know what Erwin had to say,” you seethe. “How could you?”

He blinks twice, inhaling slowly through his nose.

Then, he shrugs off his uniform jacket and hangs it by a nearby tree branch. He rolls up his sleeves to his elbows.

“I need you to make sure Hange doesn’t get eaten by their next test subject," he flatly explains.

“Oh, so we lie to each other now?” you ask. In a cascade of pops to your left hand, you crack your knuckles.

“James—”

Too late.

You throw the first punch, and he dodges it easily. His gaze hardens.

“Sloppy,” he comments.

Hurting Levi isn't your goal, but you don't know what else to do with this rage. This is the only way you can properly express the uncertainty festering in your belly.

Levi gets that.

He doesn't judge that.

To quell your budding panic attack, he'll easily deflect your advancements and tire you out.

(He's the only one. He's always been the only one.)

“You have some fucking nerve," you bite, nostrils flaring. "You wanna know what he asked me before he told me about your little forest plan?”

You kick him, and it happens to land.

You’re fairly certain he gave you a freebie.

His brow quirks, so you continue.

“Erwin asked me what we were.”

That seems to pause his defense, though he easily pushes away your next punch.

“And?”

“I told him we fuck.” The whites of Levi’s eyes grow. “Every single night under everyone’s noses — on every surface of his precious little headquarters —”

“You didn’t.”

“Yeah, asshole, I didn’t. I’m lying. Kind of like you lied right to my face.”

“I didn’t lie to you about the plan.” Levi throws a half-hearted punch for good measure. You deflect. "Can't lie if I didn't tell you about it."

“Shut — up.” You snap, throwing another hard hook at him.

Like lightning, he deflects. When he grabs your wrist, you struggle to rip your arm out of his grip. Levi drags you into his chest, keeping you trapped against him, the air heavy between you.

Panting through your nose, you work through your fury and hurt by staring him down.

“I’m going.”

His eyes narrow. “No.”

“What the fuck has you so scared, Levi?” you beg, and he falters for a moment. “We promised we’d be at each other’s sides, so what gives?”

Levi considers your words, searching your face. He keeps the mask up, not allowing you in — which hurts.

“You saw one today, right?” he murmurs, low and dangerous. “An Abnormal.”

The creature's wild, deranged grin still lingers in your mind’s eyes. How it ran at you on all fours, unlike any titan you’ve ever seen before. It was terrifying, but you don’t have to tell him that.

He's seen them, too.

“According to our intel, that place is crawling with Abnormals. The forest floor is a suicide pit. That’s why we can’t push on.”

“So?”

“So?” His brows knit. “If we push in, then that means they may run the other way. They may sense we have a titan held captive here. I need you to stay with Hange and Moblit while they experiment on that freak to make sure they’re safe.”

Deja Vu hits you.

“I’m going,” you robotically repeat as you work through why this feels so familiar.

“You’re not, I — did you not just listen to me, shithead?”

“I’m going,” you repeat once more, convincing yourself more than him.

Levi eases up on your wrist, panting.

"This is a waste of time.”

He pushes you away and turns a heel, heading back towards headquarters.

“Hey," you murmur.

The abrupt jolt of violence is what you need to wake up: to realize you’ve had this conversation before.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” you shout after him.

He doesn’t look back.

A humorless laugh leaves your mouth before you launch into your final plea.

“You’re always so quick to walk the fuck away.”

That gets him to stop.

His eyes, wide with his own budding fury, stare back at you, so you continue to speak.

“The second you think my life is in danger, you shut me out. It's textbook Levi. You stop thinking of me as a viable teammate and more like someone you should babysit.”

Levi’s nostrils flare. “James.”

“No, you listen to me, you piece of shit,” you angrily snap. “You sidelined me back in the Underground City on our last job, and look what happened. It failed. We lost everything. You got taken to the Scouts. Isabel and Furlan died.”

“Stop.”

“Countless times you’ve chosen Eld and Gunther to join you on camp watch when we’re beyond the Walls. You’ve never once asked me to take the hard watches.”

“I was avoiding the look of favoritism,” he growls, gritting his teeth.

You keep going with a small, humorless laugh. “Oh, I see right fucking through you, Levi Ackerman. The countless times you’ve put me with Petra or Oluo? With Hange and Moblit? What’s the excuse you always, always, use?”

He turns his cheek, but you push your hand against his face to turn him back to you.

“Protection, that’s right. I have to protect people. I always have to fucking protect everyone while you play martyr. Humanity’s Strongest, right?”

His eyes turn to slivers of anger. “Don’t.”

“That’s what they’re calling you behind the Walls," you mock. "Captain Levi, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, always willing to do the hard shit. You don’t give a damn that I’m worried sick over not having your back. It's only about your fears, never mine. Now you’re escalating it to, what, forbidding me to go on missions with you, too?”

“You fought an Abnormal for the first time today,” he quickly argues back, under his breath to keep control of his volume. “What did you say in your report? An eight-meter titan almost got you? You were lucky to escape, right?”

You can’t help but scowl. “Yes, but—”

“But, what?" he challenges with a hiss. "You wanna go back out to the den where they all shit together? Was one not enough for you today?”

“That’s what Scouts do, Levi,” you argue, rounding him as he starts to walk away again. You walk backwards, keeping in time with his steps. “We know the risks.”

“You’re not going.”

“You don’t have a fucking say in that.”

“I do.”

“Levi, no you don’t. You don’t own me,” you seethe. “Why do you think you can just order me around to sit back and watch you fight these things without me? Why don’t you trust me to fight beside you for once? Why—”

“Because if I lose you this time, then that’s it!”

He shouts, unlike himself. The volume surprises you as much as it does him.

You freeze, eyes growing wide and mirroring his own.

The echoes bounce off the trees, rustling the wind.

“I lost you when we were kids,” he confesses with a slight crack to his voice, exhausted. “I lost you when the job went wrong — James, please, I love you so goddamn much and I will lose my fucking mind if something happens to you.”

Your expression unravels, softening in his broken plea for absolution.

“Yeah, I leave you out and I am sorry if that hurts your feelings, but if I don’t have you to come home to — then what the fuck is this for?”

He is out of breath, as if a giant weight has lifted.

The emotion is far too much for him to handle.

He’s grasping at straws to hold him steady.

“Nothing will happen to me.” You see a flicker of grief pass over his stern face. “Levi, I’m not going anywhere. Hey…”

You near him, pulling his face towards you by cradling his head in your palms.

He closes his eyes, breathing sharply through his nostrils as he tries not to relax into the moment.

“You don’t know that,” he protests under his breath. “The forest is dangerous.”

“But if I have you watching my every move, how could we lose? Fighting right by your side and never leaving it,” you remind him, running a thumb gently along his cheekbone. “Remember when I promised you I wouldn’t die on you?”

He scoffs, but you duck your chin to meet his eyes.

“Y’know, the first night you…”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he interrupts.

You can’t help but smile. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, shithead, of course I do," he deflates, opening his gray eyes to study you. A light shade of pink peppers his cheeks. "Not exactly a night I could forget."

You continue caressing his cheek, knowing how much it can soothe him.

He fights it, but ultimately he relents.

Releases.

"I won't die on you," you repeat, firmer this time.

"I know," he exhales. "Because if you died on me, I’d drag your ass out of wherever shitty afterlife they stick you in and bring you back myself.”

You believe him.

For a moment you both stand here in the dark, coming down from the adrenaline.

After a minute passes, you speak softer.

"We'll clear the forest."

"I know."

"And we'll be able to return to the Walls with the first update in years."

"I know."

“And then when you're done meeting with the Commander, I’ll be waiting in your bed—”

Levi’s eyes snap open from the outwardly bold suggestion. “James—”

“—with a dozen apologies in a dozen different positions—”

He presses a hand over your mouth to muffle the other dirty things you want to say before they turn into giggles.

He kisses the back of his hand and shakes his head.

“You’re a fucking nightmare.”

Eventually he lets go, and you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“I mean it. We’ll come home.”

A moment passes, but Levi eventually pulls your forehead to rest against his.

“Yeah. Right home.”

Author's Notes:

CHECK OUT THIS AMAZING FLASHBACK ART THAT @ariessential CREATED! I have it saved to my desktop so I can admire it while I'm writing. I'm obsessed.

Happy holidays to those who are celebrating this weekend! Next chapter is the final flashback. I am sure you all know where this is headed, so all aboard the pain train. Your reblogs, comments, and engagement with this story keeps this engine going. Thank you, thank you.

deleted scene 02. :: an alternate version, aka the first draft, of that forest moment in chapter nine.

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bloodrvvvsh · 5 months ago

Text

Code Red, Code Blue. Chapter 1: Acquainted.

Synopsis: When the BAU is led to a case in Seattle, with Seattle Grace Mercy West as the focal point. And after an unfortunate incident involving two cups of hot coffee and a ruined pair of scrubs, Spencer meets a girl that changes his whole life.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Lexie Grey

Warnings: Typical CM discussions of crimes, typical Grey's discussions of gore and medical talk (very minimal, though!), meet-cute, literally one (1) offhanded "killing yourself" joke

Word count: 3.0K

Notes: My baby.. she's finally finished... Please enjoy, I spent way too long on this!

Likes are appreciated, but reblogs and comments help writers more!

Wednesday, September 29. 9:42 AM in Quantico, Virgina.

Spencer had only ever been to Seattle once.

Working in the BAU took him all over the country. Cases popped up in every corner, in every state, in every place you could possibly imagine. He had seen nearly every part of the vast landscape that was the US of A.

The last case that had led them across the country to Seattle was The Seattle Strangler, back when Gideon was still on the team. Spencer had mixed emotions about that thought. But he was a professional and he was going to do his job.

Their current case was as close as you could get to clean cut and dry in their line of work. Women in their 20s being stabbed. Pretty simplistic, right?

The one connection each murder had, though, was that every single woman was eventually directed to Seattle Grace Mercy West. And while the hospital was a fairly major one, it was a Level 1 Trauma Center, after all, which meant a lot of patients, it was definitely raising a few alarm bells in their heads. Each woman was also eventually declared dead at that exact hospital.

It could never hurt to check every possible lead, could it?

Spencer used two fingers to rub at the sleep clinging to his eye still. He tried, and failed, to stifle a yawn as he shifted in his seat. Although he was quite used to struggles with sleep (hence his dependence on caffeine), it never truly got any better.

“Late night?” Morgan inquired. He propped his arms on the top of Spencer’s seat, peering over the other man’s shoulder.

Spencer shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep,” he replied. He frowned softly, continuing to try and rid himself of the tiredness that stuck to his lashes before he was interrupted by another yawn.

God, he could really use some coffee right now.

He glanced down at his watch and his frown deepened. They still had at least another two hours until they would land.

Spencer would consider himself a fairly patient man. He didn’t mind waiting, hell, he most often played the waiting game in his job as a BAU agent. But right now, sitting on that jet running on only five hours of sleep with not a drop of caffeine in sight, he was feeling just one moment away from simply losing it.

Not like it would actually happen, though. Spencer wasn’t that kind of guy. He was calm and reserved, even in the face of adversity.

Hotch’s voice cut through Spencer’s internal monologue for the moment, snapping him back into reality. “We’re going to head to the police station first,” he began, casting a glance over each BAU member in eyesight, “After we get all the necessary facts, we’re going to head to the hospital. Sound good?” He was met with a round of nods from everyone and he nodded back.

Wednesday, September 29. 11:23 AM in Seattle, Washington.

Lexie needed a goddamn break.

Being a surgical resident had to be a punishment designed in one of the seven pits of hell. How dare she desire to save people's lives, right?

At least it was better than being an intern.

She loved her job, don’t get her wrong, being a surgeon was her dream. It’s just that she couldn’t remember the last time she got more than four hours of sleep a night and she was just so tired all the time. From running around constantly to several hours long surgeries to forty-eight hour shifts.

Not to mention the constant drama and tragedy that filled the Seattle Grace Mercy West halls. You couldn’t turn a corner without hearing about someone sleeping with someone else’s boyfriend or about another MerDer breakup or another surprise pregnancy. Really, sometimes it was just ridiculous.

Lexie herself had been the victim of that good ol’ SGMW drama. She was trying to pull herself free from the clutches of it all, but it always seemed to follow them all. Like some sort of curse was placed on that very hospital.

But that was besides the point. The point was that she needed just one moment of peace, away from all the chaos of the hospital and the drama. Was that so selfish of her?

The sound of sneakers shuffling and her racing heart filled Lexie’s ears as she rushed through the halls. The occasional ‘excuse me’ slipped from her lips, trying not to crash into everyone that was in her way.

When your attending pages 911, you don’t walk - you run.

Her feet skidded to a stop as the familiar emergency room came into view, nearly making her trip with the sudden halt. Her movements seemed almost practiced with the near mindless way she moved - triage gown, tie in the back, gloves. This wasn’t her first trauma, and it would be far from the last.

“What do we have?” Bailey’s voice cut through the millions of other noises filling the room - the rustling of fabric, the snapping of latex gloves on skin, the chatter of voices. The ER was ever far from being quiet.

“28-year-old woman stabbed fifteen times in the torso, majority in the chest,” Owen shot back. He rushed forwards when the glint of red and blue lights followed by the sirens that would follow them for the rest of their lives came into view, and the rest of them marched behind.

“God, overkill much?” Cristina muttered low to Meredith. Bailey, who heard everything always, shot a glare over her shoulder. Cristina threw her hands up in defense, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Her face fell the minute Bailey turned away and she shook her head with a quiet scoff.

The doors to the ambulance flew open and out rushed a woman on a stretcher. “BP is 158 over 92, HR is 92,” an EMT announced. Owen cursed under his breath as he took the railing of the stretcher into his hands.

“She’s hypertensive,” he announced. Quickly, other hands began to grab onto the stretcher as well, guiding the women into the hospital doors. He barked out a few names and different orders and Lexie slowly loosened her grip on the railing as her feet quit keeping pace before stopping entirely. She watched as the woman was rushed towards a trauma room, a frown falling on her lips. Trauma was never a pretty sight.

With a sigh she made her way to the receptionist desk near the ER entrance doors where a few of the other residents left behind had gathered.

“That’s the third stabbing in less than two months,” April remarked. A little frown began to form on her lips as she flipped the chart in her hand. “And they’ve all been women in their late 20s.”

She didn’t have to say it. They were all thinking it. The glances exchanged spoke a thousand words.

“You don’t think..” Meredith trailed off. She shot a look towards Cristina, then glanced back at April. The current hypothesis wasn’t looking so hot.

“It’s probably just a weird coincidence,” Lexie was quick to interject. Her words did little to quell the tense energy that filled the emergency room. “I mean, Seattle’s a big city. Plenty of crazy people doing crazy things. I’m sure they’re not related.” She waved a hand dismissively. Then she added, “It is getting close to the holidays. Don’t crime rates increase during the holiday seasons, or something?”

The pager attached to her hip beeped. She groaned, a pout appearing on her face at the sound. She unclicked it from the waistband of her scrub pants to take a glance at the numbers displayed on the screen and she sighed once more. It was Derek.

With a murmur of, “I’ve got to go,” that was met with a few dismissive waves of goodbyes from her fellow residents, she made her way towards the elevators, absolutely not ready for whatever Derek had in store for her now.

Wednesday, September 29. 2:17 PM in Seattle, Washington.

One thing you never want to hear in a hospital is silence. And that’s exactly Lexie had been greeted when she emerged from the imaging room, a stack of paperwork and scans ordered by Derek in hand. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something was absolutely happening and she’d be damned if she was left out of it.

It all started to make sense, though, as she made her descent down a floor of stairs and she noticed a group of her coworkers crowded behind a corner. Mentally she counted heads - Cristina, Meredith, Alex, Jackson, April.. All five of them in the same place at the same time, clearly hiding from someone (or something?), always spelled trouble.

Cautiously, she made her way towards the group. She tried to stand on her tip-toes, trying to look over their shoulders to see whatever the hell it was that was making them all stop in their tracks, but to no luck.

Finally with a huff, she decided to pipe up. “What are we looking at?” Her sudden appearance obviously spooked them, as they all nearly jumped at the sound of her voice, but they quickly relaxed when they realized it was just Lexie. She flashed a little smile that was short lived and didn’t quite reach her eyes with an utterance of ‘sorry’.

“Them,” Meredith said. Lexie leaned to the side and she followed the finger that Meredith pointed with. Never would have Lexie guessed what would be standing before her right now.

There, talking to the Chief and Owen, was a group of people that certainly didn’t look like they belonged together. One man in particular, though, stood out among the rest - a tall man with curly brown locks and the most beautiful face Lexie had ever seen. “I heard they’re FBI agents,” Cristina cut in, knocking her out her little lovestruck daydream, and Lexie’s head snapped so quickly to look back at her, it’s a wonder it didn’t break.

“What?” Was all she could manage in response. “FBI, wh-” She shook her head, trying to clear her head from all the thoughts racing through it. “What would the FBI be doing here?” Her voice dropped low, almost to a rushed whisper.

Cristina shrugged. “Hell if I know.” Lexie frowned. And just as she opened her mouth, ready to say more, Owen gestured in the direction of their little gathering. And when the group of supposed FBI agents looked at them, they all took off, scattering away in their different directions, like roaches when you turned the lights on.

Except for Lexie. She was frozen in place, her blood running cold in her body when their hard eyes locked on her. She forced another smile, a nervous little giggle escaping her as heat washed over her cheeks in heavy waves. She raised her free hand to offer them a half-hearted greeting before pointing behind her with her thumb and then promptly spinning on her heel and hurriedly trying to escape the embarrassment that was that interaction.

Wednesday, September 29. 2:45 PM in Seattle, Washington.

Spencer had drank approximately four-and-a-half cups of coffee since landing in Seattle, and he was not quite satisfied yet.

Would he ever truly be satisfied with the amount of caffeine he consumed? Could anyone, really? The answer didn’t really matter. Not to him, anyways. Especially not now, when the tiredness ran bone deep and the day was nowhere near close to being finished. So, he was going to get another cup.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” he announced offhandedly as he pushed himself up from his seat.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at the young genius as he started to make his way in the direction of the coffee machines. “Really?” Morgan said. “Another cup of coffee? Seriously, kid, you’re going to kill yourself with all that caffeine and sugar you consume.” Spencer waved a hand in response and Morgan could only shake head with a small smile falling over his lips.

“Oh, you’re getting coffee?” JJ perked up, craning her neck slightly to catch Spencer’s eye before he disappeared. “Do you think you could get me a cup, too? Please?”

Spencer nodded. “Cream and sugar?” A grin split across JJ’s face at the idea that he remembered what she liked in her coffee. Although, with Spencer, he couldn’t have possibly forgotten in the first place. “You know it!” she called out to him. “You’re the best, Spence!”

“No problem,” he called back to her as he turned the corner.

The trek to the elevator and up to the coffee carts was not a particularly long one, but it did give Spencer enough time to get lost in his thoughts. His movements almost ran on autopilot as he got on the elevator and pressed the button with the number four painted on it.

His feet moved for him, guiding him in the direction of exactly where he wanted to be. Ideas and different theories of their current case filled his head as he walked.

All of this to say - he was not paying attention. Not one bit. Not even as he mindlessly ordered two coffees - one mocha latte with room for sugar and one black with cream and sugar. Not as he began to round the corners that he was starting to become familiar with from turning around so many times due to his near caffeine addiction.

Not even as another body rounded the same corner as him.

It wasn’t until the harsh impact came, the colliding of two people knocking hard into each other and hot coffee being dumped all over each other, that he really came back to reality.

Lexie gasped as the coffee crashed right onto her, burning through her scrubs and stinging her skin. She glanced up, wanting to look whoever just ruined her scrubs in the eye, and it was like the whole world slowed for a moment.

It was cute supposed FBI agent guy.

Her jaw went slack, practically hitting the floor, and all she could do was stare. She almost wanted to pinch herself, check if any of this was really real, but the hot coffee burning her skin told her it was true.

“I’m so sorry,” The words fell out of Spencer’s mouth in an instant. He glanced around in search of something, anything, that could clean up the mess he just made, but he was coming up empty. “Really, I am so sorry-”

Lexie shook her head. “It’s fine-”

Spencer’s eyebrows pinched together. “I just spilled hot coffee all over you, it is not fine.” Lexie could feel her heart skip a beat.

“No, really, it- it’s fine,” she chuckled. “I have another pair of scrubs in my locker, it’s okay.” Spencer didn’t seem satisfied with that answer.

Now it was his turn to shake his head. “Can I make it up to you? You know, for.. getting you doused in coffee and ruining your scrubs.”

Lexie hesitated for a moment. While he was very cute, and seemingly very sweet, she barely knew this guy.

But something inside her told her to take her chance.

“Uh,” she bit down on her bottom lip. She waited for a beat. “Yeah,” she found herself saying, “Yeah, why don’t you buy me a coffee?” Spencer’s whole face lit up at her answer.

Could you blame him, though? Even covered in coffee, the woman before him was absolutely stunning.

“My name’s Spencer,” he finally added. “Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, actually.’” Lexie arched a brow at him, head tilting to the side. “Doctor, huh?” she echoed. “Are you, like, new around here, or something? Did you transfer from another hospital?”

“Oh, no. I- I’m not an MD, I’m, uh.. I’m a PhD.”

Lexie slowly nodded her head. “Right,” she muttered. The smile on her face couldn’t seem to budge. “Well, I’m Lexie,” she stuck a hand out to him, “Doctor Lexie Grey, MD.” They both grinned at her words before chuckling. Spencer found himself thinking her name was beautiful. He glanced down at her outstretched hand and then so did she, and for a moment they were both just staring at her hand.

Finally, he spoke up again, “I- I don’t do handshakes,” he spit out. “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s, uh- it’s actually safer to kiss.”

Lexie nodded her head once more and let her hand fall back to her side. She ran her palm down the side of her thigh, subtly trying to wipe the gathering sweat. A part of her was tempted to ask if he wanted to kiss her, but she held off. For now.

“So, are you a germaphobe, or something? Or do you just know a lot of different facts?”

“Both, actually,” he said. “I, uh, I have an eidetic memory, so I remember everything I read. A lot about bacteria.”

“An eidetic memory?” Lexie echoed. “Really?”

Spencer nodded, a smirk worming its way onto his lips as he began to rock himself on his heels. “And an IQ of 187 and I can read 20,000 words per minute.”

“Oh, so you’re some sort of super genius, is that what this is?”

Spencer shrugged and his smile seemed to grow. “I don’t think intelligence can be defined by arbitrary measures. But for all intents and purposes, I am a genius.”

“You know, that’s really weird, because I actually have a photographic memory,” Lexie said. She tilted her head to the side again. “Does that make me a genius, too?”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, being a doctor isn’t an easy thing to achieve. Especially being a surgeon. I would imagine you have to be fairly smart to become one.”

Lexie’s own smile seemed to grow as well. “Well, Dr. PhD, why don’t you tell me a little bit more about yourself?” She nodded her head in the direction she came from before she started to walk. And Spencer found himself following behind her.

For some reason, Spencer felt like he wasn’t going to regret spilling coffee on her.

for @gghostwriter bc i don't have a taglist <3

(if you would like to be crcb taglist, let me know!!)

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icarustypicalfall · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I have a silly request but since we are both Rudy lovers (i am also radiant cod) can you please write a short little react on „I want uns to move in together“ especially Alejandro, Rudy, soap and ghost. Oc is female and ask that question 😭🥰

Hello fellow Rudy lover :3

Of course!! this is such a cute thing request awwh :')

DRABBLES!!

Cod Men's Response to reader asking them to move in together!!

Including: rudy, alejandro, ghost, soap Warnings: sfw, pure fluff, fem!reader Note: I can do a p2 with the rest of the characters if y'all are interested :D

«Moon, tell me if I could

Send up my heart to you?»

Rodolfo Rudy Parra

From the moment you met Rudy, you knew he was the right man. Not only because of his sweet demeanor, but also because of his charming personality and kind nature that made you fall hard for him. You and Rudy have been dating for almost a year and a half, and he has always treated you like a precious and delicate creature. No one has ever made you feel the way he does.

While you lived in the southern side of Las Almas with your family, Rudy resided in the bustling center of town. Getting to meet him was always a significant journey, especially with the increasing cartel crimes that made it unsafe to roam the city. However, the allure of spending nights in your lover's apartment was irresistible.

You were ready to take the next step in your relationship and couldn't wait to tell him. One late night, after spending the day together at his flat, making pizzas and dancing, you cuddled on the couch, sipping the Champurrado he had made. Rudy chuckled and gently wiped the chocolate mustache stain from your face before speaking lovingly.

"I haven't had this much fun in a while, mi amor," he murmured, brushing the strands of hair away from your face. "You seem distracted, amor. What's wrong?"

You sighed, placing your mug down, knowing it was the perfect moment to ask him. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you gathered your courage.

"Promise me you won't get mad?" you said, looking into his eyes.

"You didn't like my abuelita's recipe?" he replied, giving you a disappointed look, causing you to laugh and shake your head.

"No, it's... I just miss you, Rudy. I feel like we're wasting time living apart. I wish we could... you know... live together. And it's..."

"You want to move in with me?" he interrupted, cupping your face and looking both serious and surprised.

You slowly nodded, furrowing your eyebrows, wondering if it was indeed a good idea. But Rudy's expression turned into a wide grin, as if to make sure you weren't joking. He pulled you into a warm embrace and showered kisses all over your face. Then, with a surge of excitement, he babbled in quick Spanish giving you a whole monologue, though you couldn't quite make out the words.

You assumed he was just thrilled, as he jumped up and rushed to grab his phone, yelling, "TE QUIERO TANTO MI AMOR!" before locking himself in the bathroom to happily inform Alejandro.

translation (i love you so much my love!)

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

After the betrayal of Phillip Graves and witnessing your lover wounded but still fighting with all his might, you were certain of two things. Alejandro Vargas was a loyal man through and through, and he was the man you wanted to be by your side until the end.

It was quite amusing how you had never considered moving in with him sooner, given that you both worked on the same frontlines, fighting against the same enemies, and spent countless nights together guarding your beloved country. The time had come to embark on a new chapter together, though you were unsure if he would agree. However, the thought of losing him that day shattered any trace of doubt or fear, leaving you with an overwhelming desire to hold him in your arms.

After a delightful dinner, you joined Alejandro on the rooftop of the base, a cherished ritual the two of you shared. Sitting in his arms, gazing at the stars, was the highlight of your day, especially since Alejandro was always busy with his duties. He motioned for you to come closer, opening his arms to welcome you as you rested your head on his thigh, relishing in the sensation of his fingers running through your hair. You inhaled his musky scent, your eyes fixed on the dark expanse above. Alejandro's smile brightened as he planted a tender kiss on your forehead, then whispered softly.

"My love, is everything alright? I haven't seen you this pensive in quite some time," he chuckled as you rolled your eyes, prompting you to share what was on your mind.

You sighed, sitting up and locking eyes with him. "I just...miss you," you confessed.

Furrowing his brow, Alejandro nodded, encouraging you to continue. "Miss me?" he queried.

"It's just...I wish we could spend more time together. I thought a part of me died when they took you away. I thought I would never see you again. That day made me realize how much I love you, Alejandro."

His gaze softened as he uttered a heartfelt, "I love you too," nodding for you to proceed.

"Would you like to move in together?" you blurted out, looking in his eyes with a hopeful yet anxious gaze.

The grin on his face widened, and he looked away briefly, his cheeks flushing with excitement. He bit his lip, unable to contain his joy.

"I was actually about to ask you the same thing, mi cielo..."

SIMON GHOST RILEY

You and Ghost were like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together, despite both being reserved and chilly individuals. Behind closed doors, you shared a love that no one expected to blossom. You connected on a deeper level, communicating your feelings without the need for words. It was as if you could understand each other's thoughts. Just like Simon, he wasn't fond of people, and neither were you.

Silence was your sanctuary, and you relished in the tranquil moments, indulging in activities during the early dawn or late night when the world was at its calmest. Spending the night at Simon's small flat in the city, the most peaceful corner of the bustling nation, felt like being in a place where you truly belonged.

He allowed himself to be vulnerable with you, gradually revealing more of his true self, shedding his mask on certain days, and even letting you take care of his hair and face.

Those special days spent together created cherished memories. Deep down, you yearned for more, wishing he could be the last person you saw before bed and the first person you woke up to. You hoped he felt the same way. Simon believed that actions spoke louder than words, and he made sure to keep you happy, occasionally letting slip a heartfelt "luv you."

Once again, you rose early to a cold day, with the usual morning fog lingering until the sun's rays pierced through.

It had become a habit to take Simon's dog for a walk before breakfast, as the nearby coffee shops opened up. Side by side, you walked in silence, inhaling the stillness and watching the droplets of water on the road. Simon placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, drawing you close for warmth as he calmly asked, "You alright?"

You sighed and nodded, your hands fumbling to warm them up. He clasped your palm, tucking it into his pocket, grumbling, "You should have told me straight away. There's no point in venting to Gaz." You looked at him in shock, feeling your cheeks flush. He had overheard your conversation with Gaz about how much you wanted to move in with Simon.

Ignoring your embarrassed state, Simon muttered, "Next time, tell me. I never said you weren't welcome there. Didn't know you had a parrot's brain.. that place is your home too." You gulped, staring at him in astonishment. "You, you don't mind?" His response was simple, he looked away and you swear you saw his eyes twinkle for a moment, "Never said I did."

JOHHNY SOAP MACTAVISH

The holidays were approaching, and you knew that you wouldn't see Johnny for at least two weeks. It broke your heart to be so close yet still apart. The Scottish man resided in a different city, causing the pain of distance to gnaw at you. No matter how many nights you spent together, one of you always had to leave in the morning, leaving the other to bathe in the sorrow of separation.

You longed to gather the courage to ask Johnny to move in together, but fear held you back. He was a composed man who loved you more than his beloved mohawk.

As everyone packed their belongings for the holidays, preparing to return to their flats, family homes, or partners, you entered Johnny's room and set your sports bag aside before sitting on his bed. A small laugh escaped your lips as Johnny scowled, procrastinating on packing until the last minute and now struggling to fit numerous shirts into his bag. You folded a shirt, assisting him in the task before smiling.

"So, Johnny, what are you going to do when you go back?" you asked. He grinned, carelessly tossing the clothes into the bag despite your protests. "Well, bonnie, I'm going to visit my family, and then I'll come to your place andbkidbap you and make you spend the rest of the holiday with me." You laughed and shook your head. "Can I tell you something, Johnny?" He furrowed his eyebrows, mumbling as he focused on his packing. "You'll come to my house. My mom has been dying to meet you. No excuses."

You chuckled and replied, "Well, I mean... I'd love to meet her, of course. But what I was actually talking about... do you think it's time for us to take the next step?"

The look on his face was priceless, and you had to playfully slap his arm to prevent him from blurting out something scandalous. "Not that way, you idiot. I meant... I think we should move in together. It feels like the perfect timing."

His grin widened, and he swept you off your feet, twirling you in the air. "I can't believe you said that, bonnie.. We..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence as he slipped on one of the shirts scattered on the floor, causing you to fall on your rear while he ended up trapped in his bag.

"Bonnie, help me!" he exclaimed. You chuckled and teasingly remarked, "I"I think I might just reconsider this step..."

𓆩♡𓆪

MASTERPOST

kindly like and rebelog, it motivates us to continue :)

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zerokurokawa · 7 months ago

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Hi bestieee!🤍✨

May I request a one-shot where the Toman boys are playing 'Kiss, Marry or Kill' at a party and they ask Mitsuya if he would 'Kiss, Marry or Kill' y/n?🌚 also Baji is y/n's best friend and gets a little jealous of Mitsuya 🤭

I leave it up to you and your imagination whether y/n ends up kissing Mitsuya or Baji 🌚🤍

Kiss, Marry, Kill | Toman Boys

Wrote this especially for you, bestie <3

It was a late Friday night and everybody was hanging out at your house after a Toman meeting. Mikey was eating snacks while Draken, Emma, Takemichi, and Hinata were all around the kitchen counter, yapping about how their days went. Emma perked up at a thought she had in her head and ran into the living room where you, Mitsuya, Baji, and Chifuyu were sitting in front of the TV, playing video games.

"I have the best idea!" She exclaimed, jumping up and down in her uniform.

"What is it?" You ask, turning around towards her. Baji and the others were too engrossed in the game to notice the sudden mood change in the room.

"Let's all play: Kiss, Marry, Kill!" Emma sounded so excited as she thought of this as being her chance to get closer to Draken.

Baji suddenly turned around, now intrigued with the situation at hand. Chifuyu also perked up, thinking this was his chance to get it on with one of the ladies. Mitsuya also seemed interested in the game.

Suddenly, everybody was crowded around the living room, sitting in a circle as the game was beginning.

"All right, Draken! Kiss, Marry, or Kill Emma." You started off, trying to get them closer.

Draken let out a small sigh before saying, "Well, obviously not kill so I guess marry."

He had a nonchalant look on his face as Emma was squealing with excitement. Now, it was Hinata's turn to ask.

"Mitsuya, Kiss, Marry, or Kill y/n?" He perked up at the question and hesitated for a moment. He liked you, but he also knew that Baji was your best friend who had feelings for you this entire time.

"Uhm… I, uh… I guess, Kiss?" He said while stuttering over his words. The whole room lit up with laughter as Mitsuya started to blush. Baji, on the other hand, was the only one not laughing.

"Does that mean we have to kiss now?" You asked, shifting more towards the center of the circle as Mitsuya was sitting on your left side while Baji was on your right. You peeked over at Baji to see him gritting his teeth as you asked the question.

"No, it doesn't." Baji said, standing up and walking outside, seemingly upset at the situation.

"Keisuke!" You went to follow after him before he closed the front door.

He was heading towards his bike when you stopped him dead in his tracks.

"What's wrong? It's just a stupid game…" You tried to console him.

"Don't tell me you were about to kiss Mitsuya right in front of me." He had fucked up. He had let his inner monologue speak outwards.

"No, I was joking! Besides, why are you upset? I'm not asking again." You folded your arms in disappointment.

"Maybe I didn't want to play the game. Maybe I didn't want to see you kiss another guy." He said, a blush forming across his cheeks.

"Okay well…" Was all you managed to get out before he had stepped closer to you, leaning in.

"Maybe, I wanted to be asked that question so that maybe, I could have the chance to kiss you." He was now towering over you with his Toman uniform accentuating his large stature.

You were breathless at the sight before you. Was he really about to kiss you? Did he really want to kiss you? That's when you felt his hand reach up and cup your cheek. He leaned in, breath on yours, and closed the gap between you two.

He kissed you quickly, pulled back a little, and then went in for more. Before you knew it, the make-out session had ended with a round of applause of everybody inside who had been watching through the window the entire time.

A slight blush came across your cheeks when you noticed everybody watching, but your attention stayed on Baji.

"Kei…" You whispered out. Baji didn't respond, instead, he went in with another kiss. He then leaned back, taking you by the hand, and leading you back inside.

"It's about damn time." Draken said as he was pulling a jug of juice out of the refrigerator. Emma came up to you, beaming about how you can go on double dates with her and Draken now.

The evening ended perfectly, as Baji didn't let go of your hand the entire night.

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stevesjockstrap · 8 months ago

Text

It’s Inertia

Steve/Eddie • Rated M • No UD, childhood friends, idiots to lovers, misunderstandings, pining • cw: underaged drinking and some fooling around • read on ao3

@stcreators event 5: tropes

@steddiesongfics Inertia - AJR

A box on my bingo square c/o @lucassinclaer

“Promise we’ll be best buds forever?”

Steve looked up from the mud pie he was squishing in his hand, finding Eddie stationed at a fallen log to ‘bake’ their pies. They’d been playing together like this all summer, since Eddie had moved to town. He was a few years older than Steve but scrawnier, ‘gangly’ his mom would call it, so he looked younger than his age.

They’d quickly bonded over shared horror stories of their parents, both getting left home too young. Eddie’s stories had put a lot of his own to shame though. But now he was with his Uncle Wayne and he seemed to be doing better. Gaining weight and his eyes weren’t as sunken in as they were earlier in the summer.

“What do you mean? Of course we will.” Steve walked over to plop his pie into the line of them on the log. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“School starts soon… and I don’t know anyone. We’ll be in different classes and stuff.” Steve watched as Eddie drew in on himself, making himself even smaller in his crouch by the log. Steve hated it. “Kids don’t usually like me. Even when I went before- I mean, I’ve always been the weird kid.”

“It’s Hawkins,” Steve shrugged. “Everyone’s weird. You’ll make friends. And even if you don’t, we’ll still hang out. We’re going to be best friends forever.” Steve felt better when Eddie’s shoulders dropped and he smiled at him. “Who else is going to make world famous pies with me?”

They laughed and Eddie wrote their initials into the mud pie he made, adorning it with leaves and rocks. Eddie put twig candles on it and they both pretended to blow them out, making wishes.

Steve closed his eyes, wishing hard that they would be best friends forever. He’d never had a friend like Eddie before.

“It’s just me.”

Steve started as cold hands pulled his blanket from him before relaxing, not even bothering to open his eyes. Eddie frequently scaled his trellis and crawled in his window, claiming nightmares or weird sounds in the trailer park were keeping him up.

If his parents were in town, in the mornings Eddie would quietly get ready with Steve and sneak to the front door and they’d both wait for the bus outside. More often, they got the run of the house, giggling at each other over burnt toast in the kitchen.

They got through middle school this way, Steve trying his best to look out for him at school but always seemed to turn the corner too late, Eddie’s nose bleeding or hunched over from a gut check. Eddie always waved him off afterwards.

“It is what it is, Stevie. Maybe a few more broken noses will make me pretty,” he joked as they walked to the trailer.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say that he already was, but he just laughed along instead.

“For I never saw true beauty til this night.”

Stepping backstage to a mild applause and a lot more snickering, Steve blinked into the darkness and came face to face with Eddie. He was clapping slowly but loudly with a teasing look on his face.

“Nice job, Romeo. All the practicing really paid off.” Eddie had jumped right into helping him prepare for this torture when Steve’s English teacher had suggested he perform the monologue at their eighth grade talent show to earn enough points to pass.

Steve rolled his eyes at him. “I missed an entire line. But thanks. You’re up.”

They exchanged a sardonic grin as Eddie shouldered his guitar and walked past him onto the brightly lit stage.

He was transfixed as he watched Eddie immediately take over the stage, singing and jumping around and meticulously hitting the chords. He’d similarly watched Eddie practice this song unendingly, but seeing it now live and in front of a crowd was astonishing.

The song came to an end and Steve clapped extra loud and whooped, earning a huge grin from his friend as he ran towards him for a hug.

He thought maybe Shakespeare had actually known a thing or two.

“Oh, oh!”

He was having a good dream. A very good dream. Then suddenly he was cold, and a hand was shaking his shoulder.

“Wha-? Eds?” He croaked.

“You, uh, it’s okay Steve. Um, I think I’m gunna go. I-it’s, uh, yeah-“

Steve shook his head and tried to reach out for him. They’d always slept all curled up together. It was fine. But once he was finally able to focus on Eddie’s face, he felt like he’d been dunked under in his freezing cold pool. He looked terrified.

“Hey, what?” Steve tried again, finally sitting up and realizing the issue. “Oh fuck,” he gasped.

“It’s fine, Steve. I-it’s normal and everything, you know. But,” Eddie blinked at him from practically across the room, jumping into his jeans. “I’ll see you later.”

He was gone before Steve would fully wake up.

He sat there glaring at his awkward boner until it finally went away. Eddie would probably never want to talk to him again. He pulled the pillow over his head and tried to force himself to go back to sleep.

His dream had been about sharp hip bones and dark curly hair.

“Ah, how the mighty have fallen. Tussling with Buns of Steel didn’t seem to go very well for you, huh?”

He moved the bag of ice he was holding to his face to peer through his good eye (well, better than the swollen shut one, but it was still pretty blurry) to find Eddie propped against the doorway. He had Steve’s pile of books and notebooks tucked under an arm. Eddie must have saved them from the hallway.

Steve sighed. “That’s what I get for sticking up for our kids, huh?” Billy always seemed to have a problem with Lucas and by extension the rest of the party, but now that Max had finally told him they were dating, he seemed to be even worse. Steve had finally had enough and thrown the first punch, but as Henderson usually reminded him, he didn’t win fights.

Eddie nodded shortly before coming over to help him stand. “Let’s ditch the rest of the day, man. You’ve earned it and you need a chauffeur.”

Back in his empty house, Eddie procured him some mystery pills to take (he hadn’t asked questions), and they cuddled up on the sofa.

As the pills started to kick in, his body started reacting to Eddie’s close proximity and the muscle memory of what seemed to keep happening when they got high or drunk together. It had started the first summer after Eddie hadn’t graduated on time. Just blowing off some steam and making his friend feel better. That’s all it was.

But now Eddie was sober, laughing lightly at the dumb movie they’d put on, rumbling Steve’s body with it since they were pressed so close.

Steve sunk his hand into Eddie’s hair and something in his chest relaxed when Eddie hummed at him and settled impossibly closer, laying his head on Steve’s chest.

Somehow their legs shifted and Eddie’s was between his. There was a small gasp from one of them before their mouths met and he had a lap full of Eddie.

He smiled into the kiss, feeling better than he had in a long while. Maybe since the last time he’d been drunk and this had happened.

Waking up on the couch the next morning, Eddie still wrapped around him, he realized he never felt this light or content with any of the girls he had fooled around with.

He mentally shrugged and made himself try to go back to sleep, it was probably just because he had known Eddie for so long.

“Chug chug chug!”

He finished shotgunning his beer and tossed the empty at Tommy who let it drop to the floor, laughing hysterically at him.

Steve had thrown a huge house party again because Eddie had told him he could charge everyone triple rates and he needed a new guitar.

But now as he watched him laugh and lean into Chrissy Cunningham from his perch in the dining room, Steve’s stomach clenched. He tried to blame it on the shit beer he’d just downed.

“Steve!”

He spun at the sound of Eddie’s voice a while later, a zing going up his spine.

“I’m gunna, uh, take Chris home. Jason’s been all over her and she needs a ride. Sorry I can’t help clean up.”

Steve tried to make his face remain neutral. He knew that was Eddie’s covert way of saying he wasn’t coming back. Every other party he had thrown, Eddie stayed. He just nodded and Eddie sent him a wary smile.

Ignoring all the garbage and spilled cups, he lined up shots in his empty kitchen. Hopefully that would be enough to let him pass out so he could sleep in his big bed all alone tonight.

He tried not to let himself think about the real reason he’d thrown the party, or what Eddie and Chrissy were getting up to.

“Where are you gunna go?”

Eddie was packing. Decided today was it. Called Steve to come help. Steve’s throat hurt, like there was glass stuck it in. There must’ve been some in his chest, too.

“Probably Indy, maybe Chicago if the van will make it. I gotta get to a bigger city and start playing at bigger clubs, where someone important will actually hear. Could try to save up some money and record a demo.”

Steve knew Eddie’s dream of being a rockstar had been steadfast but unattainable in their small town. He knew that. But seeing it now, right in front of him like this was different.

“There’s nothing here for me.”

It felt like a physical punch to the gut and he almost sunk to the floor, instead allowing the doorframe to hold more of his weight as his knees threatened to give out. “Oh.”

They hadn’t been spending as much time together since Steve had graduated and Eddie hadn’t (again). Steve was dating Nancy, working at the dumb mall with his dumb ice cream outfit. Had met Robin and spent the summer irritating Eddie and Nancy with their dumb antics. But he still made sure Eddie was included, Robin and Nancy helping him with studying and essays. Steve hadn’t been able to get into college with his grades so he wasn’t a great candidate for that, but he was there for moral support.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. Swallowing past the shard of glass in his throat and nodded, helped Eddie load the boxes and garbage bags into the van. They stopped for a quick tight hug before Eddie got in and drove away.

He didn’t let himself cry until he was alone in his bed.

“You’re really marrying her?”

The abrupt question sunk in his stomach like a heavy stone. Steve wasn’t sure who had told him. They’d stayed in touch over the years, Eddie sending postcards from his travels and calling when he could. Steve knew he spoke to the kids from time to time. It must’ve been one of them who spilled the beans.

“That’s the plan. She’s the niece of the Wallace Investments’ CEO. It’ll, um, open a lot of doors for me. And for dad’s businesses.” An ultimatum from his dad. It was the story he didn’t really want circulating, but it was the truth. He could never lie to Eddie about anything. Well, anything except for one big thing.

“You make it sound more like a business merger than a marriage,” Eddie scoffed.

“That’s because it pretty much is.”

Steve quickly changed the subject to his new album and a new tour starting. They exchanged some more small talk before someone was shouting at Eddie and he had to go.

“Good talking to you, Stevie. I’ll send you a postcard from the next place.” It sounded exactly like the write off Steve knew was coming sooner or later.

He brushed off the questions from his friends and new fiancée as he shut himself off the next few weeks, only breaking out of the fog to check his mailbox.

If his Corroded Coffin cassette got extra attention in his car for only his ears, that was neither here nor there.

“What the fuck?”

Steve looked around at all of his friends, then turned back to Robin when his eyes landed on Eddie across the room.

“This is an intervention, Steve. We’re all tired of you both moping. You’re staying in this room until you work it out-“

“Or you kill each other.” Dustin piped in. There were some muffled laughs from around the room.

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that, but yes. Sort out your shit, dinguses.”

Something she said finally processed in his brain. “Wait… both?” But no one was listening to him as they all filed out.

Jonathan and Jeff patted him on the shoulder as they passed.

Once they were alone, Eddie threw himself into a folding chair with a sigh.

“You didn’t send any postcards,” Steve found himself saying. Of all the things he wanted to say to Eddie now, he wasn’t sure why that had stung the most.

Eddie shrugged. “I couldn’t.”

Frowning, he approached him. “Why not?”

Eddie watched him sink into his own folding chair. He assumed they’d both been tricked into thinking this was just dinner. But they’d been lead back into this private room instead.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to, really. And I sort of fell into a pit of despair after you told me…” he swallowed hard like he couldn’t say the words.

Steve clenched his jaw. He couldn’t be upset over that. Really.

“It’s, um, off. You know, the wedding. The marriage. We, uh, I- I guess everyone involved sort of saw it wasn’t going to pan out.”

“What?”

Eddie looked hopeful now, and Steve stopped to actually take in his appearance. He looked terrible. Big dark circles on the bags under his eyes. He was paler than he’d ever been and his hair somehow looked both greasier and drier than he’d ever seen it.

“It’s not happening. I think-“ he chuckled dryly. “Well, I sort of fell into my own pit of despair. And my dad and my fiancée let me off the hook.”

“Steve.” Eddie’s eyes were wild.

“Yeah?”

“You’re not getting married?” He asked like it meant everything.

Steve shook his head and suddenly Eddie was very close, standing between his legs with his hands on his shoulders.

“You’re not getting married?” Eddie repeated.

He cleared his throat, looking up into Eddie’s bewildered face. “No, Eds. I’m not getting married.”

They blinked at each other for a long moment before Eddie’s hands came up to cradle his head and he looked deep into his eyes for a moment.

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve gasped but nodded and before he could close his eyes, his mouth was overtaken by Eddie. Kissing him when they were both sober and after all the years spent apart was earth shaking.

Finally, when his brain caught up, he pulled back.

Eddie’s face closed off and he moved away so he was no longer touching him. Steve couldn’t have that, so he reached out for his belt loop and pulled him hard so he fell into his lap.

“Eds, I- I’m just, what is happening?”

Eddie took a deep breath before cupping his face again. “It’s you. It’s always been you for me. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“Forgiven,” Steve sighed before capturing his lips again.

He wasn’t going to let him go now that he finally had him.

“Well I think they figured it out,” Jeff quietly chuckled from the doorway.

“Thank fuck, they’ve been driving me more insane than usual.” Robin grinned at him. She held her hand up and Jeff high-fived her. “We make a great team. C’mon, you’re buying dinner for everyone, hot shot. And we’ll have to work out a visitation schedule, this doesn’t mean I get zero Steve time.”

Jeff rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but laugh as they walked back down the hall together. “You got it, Buckley.”

#steddie #Steve x Eddie #mine #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic #childhood friends #steddie fic #angst with a happy ending #hawkinshearts #stcreators #steddiesongfics #stficbingo

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csny · 2 months ago

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Seth Meyers' marriage is in absolute chaos. Rumors are swirling that he's been living in a secret bunker, avoiding all contact with Alexi Ashe. The tabloids claim they're embroiled in a dramatic legal battle over who gets custody of their dog, Frisbee, and they're both vying for sole ownership of their favorite coffee mug. The couple is said to be dividing their time between fighting over who gets to keep their children's birth stories.

Things are messy, very messy.

After an intense argument over the temperature setting of their apartment, Meyers reportedly stormed out, leaving behind only a cryptic note written in disappearing ink. Unknown to Meyers, Ashe moved into a rival late-night host's guesthouse, sparking rumors of a secret alliance aimed at dethroning Meyers from his comedic empire. Late-night TV is now a battlefield as both sides fight for the audience's sympathy with thinly veiled monologues.

In a shocking twist, Seth Meyers has reportedly had an epiphany after years of hosting Late Night and cracking jokes about relationships. Sources claim he realized he's gay while watching a rerun of Saturday Night Live with guest appearances by Queer Eye cast members. He immediately called up his fellow late-night hosts for a dramatic "coming out" roundtable.

Hollywood is abuzz with speculation that Meyers is secretly writing a memoir titled From Weekend Update to Personal Update: My Journey to Fabulous.

#comedy yaoi

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ratcate · 9 months ago

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I'm here to admit that I may have developed a hyper fixation on your OCs (especially on Zerion and Sir. Valentine) so can you perhaps tell us more about them? (And other OCS)

oh hey!! great selection of characters. Makes me really happy you wanting to know more about them! I love them a lot, but Sir Valentine more, as Zerion's personality and setting is pretty nebulous still. info about them both under read more!

Zerion is some sort of cartoony super villain, heavily inspired in the night of the bald mountain monster interpretation from Fantasia(disney)

(art from 2020)

I think he's a very strong dark mage or something. Right now I have him reduced to a joke. A cartoony villain living his slice of life, but always awaiting action, the smallest spark chaos, to join in, in a world where nothing ever happens. He has his sidekick, Vampina (I think that was her name). A vampire chick who lives in the moment and is Zerion's servant, as long as he provides him with some blood every now and then

(2023)

(2021)

she almost never pulls off that relaxed smile from her face, her brain usually has no thoughts more than "can i eath this?" "I can eat this" Both of them are pretty evil. I remember once i tried to sketch out a first chapter, where they had a visit of income tax department agents, coming to remind Zerion he hadn't paid his taxes, and both Zerion and Vampina made a whole intricate plan on how to get rid of them and torture them, to show the government they're not to be fucked with. Though, all their scare tactics were just confusing, failed magic tricks for the men, now tied to apparent non functioning electric chairs, looking at each other through their sunglasses, stoic faces, while confused to what Zerion is yapping about in his villain monologue, while Vampina eats a stale bread in the BG. ---------------------------------------------------------

I don't have much about Sir Valentine either, but I certainly have drawn him more. For now, His name is Sir Cannon Valentine, but we'll get to that in a bit.

(both from 2020)

This is the first art ever I made of him, and that's a lot of his vibe. (2019)

This MAN, is some warrior who died in his armor but is back by some whack magic, and he's impatient, easily irritated, screams instead of talking, and I've always imagined having him a strong accent. He's here to fight and go headfirst into everything bc he really cannot die.

As of 2024, Sir Valentine is Sir Cannon Valentine (you can still call him the first version), BECAUSE, besides him being reborn and inmortal, angry and ready to fucking obliterate anything in his way, now his body works as a canonball

He went through my manic episode of redesigning many of my characters, after getting a taste of Pizza tower's cartoony characters, and became this. Much more functional, easily drawn, flowy. he just works, i can animate him in a snap of fingers. Still consistenly working to improve his design even more.

I will probs change the story, but this guy is resucitated as a last resort for a war between kingdoms, as a mistake, bc they wanted to revive some other guy, but got mistaken and went to his thomb. This guy revived him, after a ritualistic dance and some lightning

and then he is like "oh wait I fucked up", and Valentine is like "TOO LATE BITCH I'M FREE!!" and blasts away from him, as a cannonball, fueled by his own fire and methane gas from the catacombs he is in lol. This story is very not much constructed, but I love Sir Valentine a lot, and the characters I can surround him with. I see him falling for a bourgeoisie woman, or a princess even, bc all my stories need the romance, I'm nothing without the romance. I am also thinking of including another character of mine, Sayen, as the daughter of this death guy

Sayen previously appeared as a participant in a nsfw comic in my twt alt account lol. I love her and her design very much.

#zerion oc #sir valentine oc #OCs #oc

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cursed-elements-blog · 4 months ago

Note

If you love Chunt so much give us all available chanter facts.

okie dokie!!! if i get any wrong, I'll delete my account (lying). im also not going to just do a full plot recap!! i will have to reference some plot points though so spoilers for Echo VN.

Chunty wunty was born in 1993 between Spring (probably March/April, i don't remember when his spring break was) and November 1st. He is a north american river otter! he was born and raised within Echo.

when he was a child, he was kind of an asshole! using carl's fear of ghosts to get access to carl's game consoles when he wanted to stay the night and frequently telling lies to get what he wants. Chase tells himself via his inner monologue that his dick is huge. on november 1st 2008, chase got caught jacking off to gay porn (fox and horse specifically) by his parents and then spent the rest of the day avoiding them. he got together with leo the day after that. Chase has arachnophobia. chase is bisexual but tells people he's gay cause he says that it is much easier to do that than to explain what bisexual is. at college he had one single edible and had a terrible intense trip lmao man CANNOT handle weed.

Chunt and Jenna thought it would be funny to pull a prank on Leo, this ended up with Chase breaking up with Leo. he suffers from sleep paralysis, hallucinations, and dissociation because sam-entity is possessing him. he has a somewhat artificial interest in journalism and photography and only really chose that field because Jenna suggested it to him when she told him to try to leave Echo. speaking of Jenna, Chaunter drove her out of Echo and to Payton to escape her abusive family.

after chase broke up with Leo and went off to college, he would still send Leo a bunch of sexually charged messages telling him how he missed Leo when drunk. he's such a messy bitch (affectionate). Chase and Carl used to be roommates in college before Carl dropped out. then Chase roomed with a rabbit and then Vincent. he was a very average student. chase used to have an anchor bracelet that he and Leo wore to symbolize their relationship* *yo i fucking cried when writing this sentence. that got me so emotional holy shit.

this is long so here is a break. more under the cut :3

he stopped wearing the bracelet during college. Chase drowned Sydney because he felt as if Sydney would eventually kill TJ. he then subconsciously suppressed this memory. he used to see a psychiatrist and take meds because he saw a body hanging in the woods shortly after Sydney's death.

Chase has a noticeable but not apparent gay accent. like that valley girl twang. stereotypical gay voice. he has said "haaii" he has said "hey, bee-otch" and he has said "hiiiiiiii~". when he and Leo first got together, they ended up sort of neglecting their other friends. Chase only was available to drive Jenna to Payton because he and Leo were fighting and thus not speaking to each other.

once TJ asked Chase how he knew he was into men, and Chase told him to go to a porn website. Chase loves to swim! he also stinks. Chase's musk actually apparently turns people off, especially on dating sites. speaking of, Chase is on Predatr, a dating app (parody of grindr)

Chase's mom calls his arachnophobia "his little spider problem". chase used to think he was strictly gay but realized that wasn't quite right sometime during his late teens/early 20s. CHase doesn't finish his school project in time in a vast majority of the routes. Chase, Jenna, and Leo used to play platformers together before Leo could really understand english, "double jump that sucker" became a in-joke between the three. the two of them helped Leo learn english.

in Flynn's route, Chase has exactly one good and successful publication before his journalism career goes downhill. he is 26 when he meets Devon and Cameron in Echo. in leo's route Chase is 22/23 when he visits with his boyfriend Kudzu. Chase's whereabouts after TJ's route is unknown! terrifying given how that route ended!

Chase has a body count of 2, killing Sydney and Flynn (only in TJ's route). In Carl's route, Chase once again rooms with Carl in college. Chase is a fucking kinkshamer. Chase tends to assume all christians are homophobic and subtly had behaved rudely to TJ and his family because of this despite their love of him.

when he was 15 he put a fucking gay dating ad seeking a "friend/mentor" while pretending his was 18 by taking a photo of him on a roller coaster and blurring out the face. this plan did not work and he was banned from the sight. probably has a small bladder cause he needs to piss a lot!

Chase went through an emo phase where he frosted his hair tips. god i wish we saw that. Chase thought his little goatee would grow into a full beard. it did not. Chase Hunter is my babygirl!! Chase and Leo went to TJ's christian party thing and spent the entire party making out in Leo's car. Chase bottomed for most of his relationship with Leo. Chase is 5'7. Chase once had Leo put his dick in a hotdog bun and was "shocked" at the result according to Leo. Chase is attending Pueblo University, can't believe i hadn't put that one down yet

Chase's legs are described as "stubby" and he isn't a great runner because of it. Chase doesn't like the idea of getting more help for his issues after having poor experiences with them as a kid. Chase used to get bullied sort of by Clint and Jeremy. Leo's family loved Chase when they were dating. Chase has a high amount of leg specific injuries across the entire vn.

Chase's original last name was going to be Cooper according to Howly. Chase is the first ECHO PROJECT PROTAGONIST!!!! BABYGIRL MADE HISTORY!!!!

im ending it there cause i have work in the morning :/

part 2 maybe ;3

#chase and I are getting married <3<3<3 #you are all invited #does this prove my love anon? do you see what Chase means to me?#chunter <3 #chase <3 #chase hunter #chase hunter echo #we chunt together #echo vn #don't call me leo coded

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 1 year ago

Text

[CN] Victor’s Cold Winter Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 凛冬之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

[Translation under the cut]

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Subbed Video】

[anika’s notes]: I do very very very highly recommend to watch the video for full immersion + absolute god-level voice acting + the gorgeous music pieces!!! ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

youtube

—

【Prologue】

I behold My homeland disappear in the daylight, and emerge in the night. I behold The everlasting power engrain within the vast blood of my people. I behold A snow-white rose bloom in the winter, And I behold as it withers in the winter – each petal sailing across the ocean, To a kingdom no one can reach.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 1】

As the night gradually deepens, the heavy curtains in front of the window are drawn by the attendants, veiling the silvery, meandering moonlight.

I take a deep breath and push open the doors to the royal bedchamber engraved with a luxurious imperial coat of arms.

Inside the bedchamber, my newly wedded husband, King Victor, is fast asleep.

Not long ago, at the behest of my father, Duke William, I was betrothed to Victor.

Regrettably, before the ceremony could be held, my parents died of ailing health.

However, the wedding was not delayed due to the unexpected tragedy, and the ceremony proceeded as scheduled, with the Church as witness.

After all, to those people, what mattered the most was not the protagonists of the wedding, but the wedding ceremony itself.

–– That’s right, it’s not just me; even the king, Victor, is not held with significance in their eyes.

After all, it’s known to everyone in the capital that the royal family’s influence is eroding with each passing year. And since Victor succeeded to the throne, he remains in a coma all year round and is merely a puppet in the hands of the Church and nothing more.

The elusive fragrance of beeswax pervades the air in the room. I step on the soft woolen carpet and draw closer to the bedside. [1]

Lately, the capital has been shrouded in a haze of doubts and suspicion regarding the disappearance cases, and it was not the appropriate time for grandeur. Therefore, after the hasty wedding, I was ushered into the imperial palace.

And tonight marks the third night I’m spending alongside His Majesty, the King, who’s been in a state of perennial coma.

Victor is still in a deep slumber.

The light from a few candles illuminates one side of his profound features, while the lingering shadows dance across his face as if with fondness.

Throughout the generations, the kings have always been in robust health. But during Victor’s reign, his health has been continuously plagued with illness.

It seems even the gods cannot bear to be too cruel to him. His illness has only brought a touch of frailty but has not marred his looks.

I inhale softly and sit on the edge of the bed, propping my chin up as I gaze at Victor in his slumber.

MC: ...why are you still sleeping?

I’ve already started to grow accustomed to this— the bedchamber echoing only my own whispered monologues.

MC: I thought the Church was so wary of you because you had some secrets that were unknown to the outsiders.

MC: Now it seems your biggest secret is that you were born this good-looking.

I crack a joke to myself, which also lightens my mood considerably.

MC: When I think about it this way, being married to you is far better than being forced by the Church to marry one of those evil, rotten old men.

In addition, within the palace, at least, there are no hypocritical relatives and those ever-watchful eyes—

I have enough space to contemplate my plan for revenge.

MC: Revenge... revenge... MC: But how can I go about taking revenge on the Church...

Clutching a corner of Victor’s blanket, I cover my face with it in anguish.

The Church conspired to murder my parents.

Because my father was a leader of the reformist faction, they extended their malicious hands targeting my family.

And this marriage, which was arranged by my parents, is now being wielded as a means to threaten my life.

As I ponder on this, the resentment in my heart swells. I heave a sigh, deciding to change my mood and say something interesting.

I sporadically recount some happy and entertaining anecdotes from the past, treating Victor as a well-behaved “sleeping beauty doll.”

MC: ...in autumn, you know, there wasn’t much to do. Winter, in comparison, was way more fun. MC: When I was young, what I loved doing the most was building little snowmen in the courtyard of the duke’s mansion after it snowed. Look, I could make them this big—

Of course, Victor can’t see any of this, and there’s no hope for a response either. After mustering the spirit to prattle on for a while, all I am left with is endless emptiness.

I tug at the corners of my lips, forcing a smile, and as if driven by some strange impulse, I reach out and poke Victor’s face, wishing to get him to have the same expression as me.

MC: Sigh, it’s no fun. I won’t say anything more. ??(Victor): Why won’t you say anything more?

An icy voice suddenly sounds in my ears, carrying with it the raspiness of just being awakened.

I turn my head and nearly let out a scream.

MC: Y-Your Majesty... when did you...! [2]

I’m not sure when, but Victor has regained consciousness at some point. Leaning on a soft pillow, he rubs his temple with one hand.

Victor: I’m conscious, not revived back to life.

MC: ... I’ll sincerely obey Your Majesty’s command!

In a low voice, I respectfully offer him a curtsy. Victor seems to find my behavior amusing, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Victor: The term of address was “you” even just a moment ago. A certain someone changed her tune rather quickly. [3] MC: I’m not “a certain someone,” I am... Victor: I know, Duke William’s only daughter. MC: [surprised] Eh...?

Victor: At the age of seven, you received a scolding for building a snowman with the servants. When you were nine, you had a quarrel with a parrot and suffered a crushing defeat––

MC: Wait a minute, you... you heard all of that?

Victor: You’re too noisy. It’d be hard not to hear, [breaks into a coughing fit] cough, cough...

His words are cut off by a cough. I hastily pour a cup of water and offer it to him under his scrutinizing gaze, keeping silent.

I can’t help but break into a cold sweat.

Could it be that... all the past events I casually mentioned, all those self-deprecating remarks, and even... did he really listen to everything?

But, two days ago, when I plucked up the courage to poke his face, he didn’t react at all... So, when did he actually become conscious?

A vague, looming sense of oppression involuntarily makes me shrink my neck, and I tentatively open my mouth.

MC: ...you know about everything regarding me?

He tilts his jaw slightly upwards, studying my features. His eyes are submerged in the shadows cast by the candlelight, reminiscent of a predator in the dark night.

A good while passes before he eventually accepts the cup, speaking in a tone that is neither amiable nor impassive.

Victor: I do.

I nod and, after a rapid mental calculation, make up my mind. I take a step forward, wearing a small smile on my face as I speak.

MC: Including the fact that I was sent as a spy by the Church?

Victor: [seemingly chokes on water] …

Victor: Are you aware of what you’re saying?

MC: Yes, I’m aware.

I wish to work together with the king to bring down the Church.

And when working with a person like Victor, being transparent and honest is the first principle.

I crouch down at the edge of the bed, looking up at Victor from below.

MC: Your Majesty, I don’t want to hide anything from you.

MC: Prior to our nuptials, my parents were brutally attacked by the Church due to their advocacy for the reformation of the Church.

MC: The Church, to exploit my worth, spared my life and assigned me to spy on you.

Victor arches an eyebrow, clearly still assessing the credibility of my words.

Victor: Continue.

I press my lips together and lower my head, trying to convey my utmost sincerity.

MC: ... I’m unsure of to what extent you know about me, but I’ve never once considered surrendering to the enemies who murdered my parents.

MC: Now, in terms of both sentiment and reason, we are a family, and I cannot betray my husband.

MC: So... Your Majesty, will you take me under your wings?

I blink my eyes at him with a pitiful look, not knowing whether Victor would buy into it.

Victor: …

As if in need of a moment to compose himself, Victor seems to momentarily avert his eyes before he turns them back to me again.

Victor: Family... you seem to have accepted your new identity quite readily.

MC: Besides you, what else do I have to rely on?

MC: On the contrary, even after hearing my confession, if you’re unwilling to help me, I don’t have anything to lose.

I flutter my eyes at Victor.

MC: Your Majesty, I’ve already got nothing left to lose.

Victor holds a straight gaze on me. In his eyes, while there is finally a hint of recognition, it’s more as if he is peering into the past through me.

Victor: ...I will help you.

His well-defined hand sweeps my loose hair strands back for me. But before I can breathe a sigh of relief, the next second, my chin is cupped and pivoted to face him.

Victor: The prerequisite is that you can offer sufficient value to me.

His grip is surprisingly strong for someone who has just regained consciousness. As our eyes interlock, his penetrating gaze intently scrutinizes my innermost thoughts.

Victor: In your eyes, your husband, whom you’d never met before, is nothing more than a puppet who remains in coma year-round, isn’t that right?

Victor unfolds his hand to me, revealing a gem as vividly red as the human heart in his pallid palm, and then he encloses his hand—

In the blink of an eye, the signs of illness are shed off his face, and a rosy hue colors his cheeks, and he seems to be bathed in a divine light.

MC: This is... do you know witchcraft?!

Victor places the gem back in its case, then casts a brief look in my direction, apparently turning a deaf ear to what I’ve said.

Victor: This doesn’t concern you.

He slowly curls his lips, and his pupils, akin to the deep sea in the darkness, are as profound and enigmatic.

Victor: There’s a set of clothing on the bedside table. If you want to prove that you’re not just a noble canary—

Victor: Tomorrow morning, change into it and accompany me out of the palace.

──────────

[Notes]:

[1] Beeswax is often considered a symbol of “eternal love” in Eastern cultures.

[2+3] During her monologues in the 1st quarter of the date, MC was addressing Victor by “你” (informal ver. of ‘you’) pronoun. But the moment he butts in, i.e., gains consciousness, MC immediately switches to “您” (courteous/ respectful ver. of ‘you’) and the respectful address “Your Majesty,” which he teases her about here, haha.

Point to be noted: MC doesn’t switch back to the informal terms of addresses until the 3rd chapter of the date, when they’re already in love and inseparable for the time being. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

While I’m still struggling with myself, Victor has already closed his eyes again.

Victor: You can sleep anywhere you want; just don’t make any noise.

MC: ...Yes, Your Majesty!

The idea of having this mysterious and aloof king sleeping next to my pillow feels more chilling to me than freezing in the cold itself.

I don’t hesitate at all. I swiftly grab a pillow from the bed and get prepared to spend the night on the sofa.

But it turns out I actually overestimated my ability to withstand the cold. Before the clock hands have even moved a few notches, I quietly tiptoe back to the bed, hugging the pillow.

MC: [to herself] It’s just that the weather is too cold. I just want to feel a bit nice and warm—

With a huff, I murmur in a soft voice and gently lift the coverlet to slip inside.

Once I’ve got my body settled comfortably, I cautiously look towards the person on the pillow next to me.

Victor isn’t awakened by my movements. Even in the darkness of the night, his skin is luminously white, his features handsome— he is reminiscent of a sculpture crafted from snow.

Considering this person’s track record of feigning sleep, I simply watch him quietly without making any more rash moves.

As I continue watching like this, my mind inexplicably begins to wander.

Although just moments ago, I kept addressing him as “my husband” repeatedly, when I look at Victor’s cold and handsome demeanor, I always find it difficult to connect him with that identity.

In my impression, the image of a husband and wife is like that of my parents. So, in the future, will Victor and I also be joined at the hip and inseparable like that?

Thinking about that reserved and unsmiling face, I can’t help but get chills.

In his eyes, I seem to be nothing more than a “useful person.” But what value can I provide for him?

The more I ponder, the more my head throbs, and it’s not until the horizon starts to turn slightly pale that I eventually drift into sleep.

──────────

With the break of dawn, I promptly get out of bed and change my attire. Victor has woken up as well.

Seemingly noticing the dark circles under my eyes, he arches an eyebrow, lifts his hand, and tosses a cloak over to me.

Victor: It seems like while your courage is not at all small, your confidence sure is lacking.

MC: I just don’t wish to unnecessarily show off in front of you.

I fasten the cloak tightly and purposely straighten my neck.

MC: Your Majesty, please lead the way.

We exit the palace through a small gate, cross through the commoner’s district, and Victor leads me straight into a small house.

──────────

Going from the small house into the cellar, and after navigating through a labyrinth of winding pathways, the cramped field of view suddenly opens up to a wide panorama.

Everyone: Your Majesties.

I never anticipated that the entire hall would actually be filled with guards, all standing in a perfectly ordered formation.

— To pull together an assembly of so many armed personnel, Victor must have spent a substantial amount of time, hasn’t he?

I’m hardly able to restrain my inner shock as I think back to the frequent news in recent years of nobles associated with the close-knit sects being removed from power or inexplicably meeting tragic ends. Now, it seems...

Every single person, myself included, severely underestimated this “dying” king standing before me.

At this moment, Victor picks something up from the long table, and it’s only now do I notice that there are all kinds of torture equipment laid out on the table.

The appearance of these torture instruments is menacing, and at their tips, dried blood remnants are still visible.

Practically, the moment I get a good look at them, the reeking of blood and rust assaults my nostrils. I subconsciously cover my nose and mouth, tightly gripping the cuff of my sleeve.

Subordinate: Reporting to Your Majesty, these are the “refining” equipment we found at the scene.

Subordinate: But those people are as cautious as rats at dusk; we’ve only found these pieces of material evidence so far. The remains of the blood sacrifice are still being sought.

Victor nods calmly, and once the arrangements are made, the guards depart in an orderly manner through various secret passageways.

Victor and I are the only ones remaining in the large hall. I make a conscious effort to restrain myself from looking at those torture instruments, regulating the rhythm of my breathing.

MC: Your Majesty, did you bring me here to witness something so horrifying to disclose some kind of truth to me?

Victor: Face has turned pale, but still got some courage.

A smile tinged with what appears to be praise appears on his face, as he takes out from his bosom the gem that resembles a human heart from last night.

The crimson light radiating from the gem spreads across his cheeks, eerie yet bewitching.

Victor: The purpose of all these blood sacrifices is to provide energy for this “Blood King Crystal.”

My eyes widen in incredulity as I stare at the pulsating vivid red in his hand, sensing a faint inkling of what it might signify.

MC: When you hold this Blood King Crystal, your complexion appear rosier, and you don’t cough as much...

MC: Could it be that the Church officials want to extract energy from commoners to enhance their physical strength?

Victor: Not the Church; it’s the Royal Family.

Victor doesn’t shy away from nodding his head. He stares fixedly at the red gem that provides him with strength, but in his eyes, there is only icy coldness.

Victor: The vitality and longevity of successive kings across the dynasties were all due to their possession of the “Blood King Crystals” that were assembled from the lives of countless ordinary people.

Victor: The Church refines it, and the Royal Family uses it, thus resulting in the Royal Family being controlled by the Church from then on.

Victor: And anyone who uncovers this secret will die.

My thoughts go back to my parents, as well as the reformist cabinet ministers— could it be that they all had...?

My heart immediately falls into a valley.

I close my eyes for a moment, then fix my gaze firmly on the unwavering king before me, a king who has endured extreme hardships and made sacrifices to stand where he is now. [4]

MC: Your Majesty, currently, there is a significant following of the Church among the populace. We must find the evidence of the blood sacrifices and bring it to light for everyone to see.

MC: I will carry on my parents’ legacy and work alongside you to find evidence of the Church’s blood sacrifices.

In those forever serene eyes of Victor’s, I see the glint of a smile.

Victor: [assuredly with obvious happiness] It appears you’ve perfectly inherited the chivalry and wisdom of Duke William.

MC: Well... it’s not entirely that. Whether in public or private matters, it’s only right that I stand by your side.

I wink at him, half-jokingly breaking the somewhat somber atmosphere.

MC: After all, I’m not only the daughter of Duke William. I am your wife and, more importantly, the queen of this country.

Victor: Is that right? It doesn’t seem to me that a certain someone possesses the temperament of a queen.

MC: Regarding that... I will work hard, so you can’t keep teasing me all the time.

Victor laughs in spite of himself and reaches out his hand, gesturing for me to take his arm.

Victor: [laughs helplessly] Very well. My Queen, we should return now.

──────────

After coming out of the subterranean passageway, we follow the same path back. We were in a hurry when we came here. It’s only now do I take notice of the surroundings.

In the nearby roadside, peddlers are selling fresh produce, while in the distant square, a group of less fortunate are circled around a fire, warming themselves and singing songs.

The streets in the commoner’s district are intersected, narrow, poverty-stricken yet bustling with life, in stark contrast to the overwhelming dead silence of the royal palace.

I hardly ever left the mansion, so I find myself unable to resist taking in the surroundings repeatedly.

Victor: Does the Duke’s daughter find these things interesting?

MC: ...no, no, I’m just looking around in passing, that’s all!

Victor’s hand offhandedly adjusts a corner of my cloak. He takes a long stride, veering from the route back to the palace and heading in a different direction.

Victor: That path is too narrow. Let’s stroll this way and get some fresh air.

We slowly stroll along, taking in the surroundings as we walk. Not far ahead, there is a dilapidated small tavern. Victor gestures for me to take a look.

Victor: I just suddenly recalled that you mentioned being curious when you were little and licking the snow with a fork.

Victor: During winter, the iron cups in the tavern also have an element of sweetness. You should try it some other time.

My scattered thoughts, fluttering around like wild and untamed grass, suddenly drop to the ground, and I can’t help but choke.

MC: ...Your Majesty, are you teasing me?

There is a slight curve at the tip of Victor’s brow as he gently curls the corners of his lips into a smile.

Victor: [laughs softly] Perhaps I am, or perhaps, it is a sincere recommendation.

MC: Could it be that you’ve drawn that conclusion after experiencing it firsthand?

Victor: You could say that.

Seeing him take the bait, a massive smile spreads across my face.

MC: So, speaking of, does that mean that you’ve also stuck your tongue to an iron cup in the past?

Victor seems to choke on his words for a moment. He shoots me a wordless look and walks forward, paying no mind to me.

MC: [teasingly continues] So, did that really happen? Did it happen or not...

We’ve almost circled the area surrounding the palace. Victor is tall and has long legs, but from the beginning, he has maintained a matching pace with me, making it so that I can always touch his shoulder by simply turning sideways.

The weather is very cold today; my hands and feet are freezing, yet I deeply breathe in the bitingly chilly but liberating air.

Even though I cannot purchase any dubious items to bring back to the palace, and even though I know the end of this path leads to the imperial palace that holds me captive—

But perhaps because I have someone walking alongside me, I feel surprisingly at ease.

In my sight, obscured by the chilling breeze, I see Victor squatting down and petting a skinny kitten at the corner of the alley.

The cat stretches its body and lays down lazily under Victor’s hand, meowing. Victor smiles, and both of them then look at me together.

Victor: [extremely softly] The winters in the future won’t be as chilling anymore.

──────────

[Notes]:

[4] The idiom used here is “越王勾践,” which came to life from the true story of King Goujian. I’d encourage you guys to just even google and see the small wiki on him if you can. This idiom in and of itself is the essence of the date in terms of Victor’s perseverance, and how he imposes suffering on himself for the constant reminder of what it is he’s fighting for by refusing to use the “Blood King Crystal.”

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

Victor soon announces the news of him regaining consciousness to the masses, sending waves of shock to everyone across the country.

Amidst the reigning turmoil among the Church and the nobles, he proposes visiting the prominent noble households.

In my capacity as the queen, I rightfully visit every noble residence with him, where we find numerous correspondences implicating the collusion between the nobles and the Church.

The nobles kept the letters for the purpose of blackmailing the Church, both sides engaging in mutual exploitation, but they never once considered that there could be one day when they’d have to face the consequences.

Using the letters as a starting point, a series of pivotal evidence regarding the Church’s blood sacrifice is unearthed through Victor’s thunderous methods.

I, on the other hand, use my identity as an orphan of the reformers to help him win over the newly elevated nobles. More and more people begin to rally to our side...

When a former subordinate of my father hands me a letter, as if in tacit agreement, both Victor and I simultaneously realize that the final piece of the puzzle has fallen into place.

It’s about time for the verdict to be pronounced.

──────────

Tomorrow, Victor will convene a National Convention to expose the crimes of the Church to the masses.

I can’t fall asleep, so I rise from the bed and pace around the bed chamber in my nightgown.

Victor: [laughs helplessly] If memory serves me right, the person set to address tomorrow is not the queen; it’s the king.

He is lying in bed with drowsy eyes. Turning towards me, he speaks in a low, raspy voice, infused with a teasing tone.

MC: ...I didn’t realize I’d wake you up despite the carpet being so thick. I guess I’ll just go outside and sleep elsewhere.

As I drape on my outer garment and am about to head outside the chamber, my wrist is suddenly gripped from behind, pulling me back onto the bed.

Victor: [in an overwhelmingly sensual tone] You’re the queen. Where do you plan on sleeping when you look like this?

Tangled up in my thoughts, I have tousled my hair, causing it to become disheveled. Victor sighs, who then picks up a comb and sits behind me.

Victor: [switches to an overwhelmingly tender tone] Dummy. What is there to be nervous about?

The moderate pressure on my hair pacifies my restless heart. I rub my ears, which have heated up, trying to shift the topic of conversation to conceal my shyness.

MC: In the past, when my father would go to visit the king, my mother would become anxious like this and often wouldn’t even be able to eat anything.

Victor: So, what would happen next? I’m afraid the duke probably wouldn’t let his duchess remain in a constant state of worry.

MC: Mm-hmm. Whenever this kind of situation arose, my father would always hold my mother’s hand...

As I speak, I immediately begin to regret it a little. It feels like I’m sending a rather awkward hint.

Without waiting for me to dwell on more embarrassing thoughts, Victor’s hand has already enveloped mine, and the warmth from his palm flows to my icy fingertips.

His temperature is reminiscent of dandelions in a garden, floating gently, landing on my face and neck.

We are the puppet king and queen, husband and wife in name only. Even though we reside together in the same bedchamber, we’ve never been this intimate.

I feel a sensation as if a feather quill is caressing my throat, making it impossible for me to conceal the true feelings harbored in my heart.

Reflexively, I tighten my grip on Victor’s hand and turn to face him.

MC: Victor, to be honest, even though I never mentioned it before, I used to think you were quite unfeeling.

Victor: There was no need to say it; it was written all over your face.

Victor: Also, not addressing me as “Your Majesty” anymore?

MC: In any case, you are not going to hold it against me now, will you?

MC: During this period of time that I’ve spent with you, running here and there together, I’ve come to realize in every passing moment that I hardly knew anything about you before.

MC: For instance, in the case of those Church henchmen, according to the old laws, their families should have been exterminated, but you chose to exercise your discretion and grant amnesty to those who were unaware.

MC: And regarding the commoners who have fallen victim to the blood sacrifice, you’ve been supporting their families with long-term financial aid.

MC: You always project an image of keeping people at a thousand-mile distance, but in reality, there is also a tender side to you.

A flicker of astonishment crosses Victor’s eyes, but he simply tightens his grip on my hand.

Victor: [with a very evident hesitation in his tone] It sounds like... getting to know me is something that brings you joy?

MC: Yes, it does. I wish to know you even better— the past you, the present you, and the future you.

I gaze deeply into his eyes.

MC: But you’re so encumbered by everything. I can only utilize the little time you set aside for me each day to learn about you amidst the calls of the people.

Victor: ...MC.

Victor’s eyes tighten, and a heartfelt and regretful emotion swirls within them.

MC: I don’t wish to rob you of your time because of my selfish desires.

MC: So, after the National Convention concludes, and when you’re no longer so busy...

I draw in a breath, low and slow. And like that, just like the first time I met him, I lay bare all my yearnings and affections before him.

MC: Reserve some time for me, will you? Not in your role as the king, but as my husband. Share your stories with me.

MC: Will you, Victor?

All my thoughts translate into clumsy words, pouring out like the way winter grass eagerly awaits spring rain, confessing everything I have in me.

Victor continues gazing at me like this, until that gaze of his becomes infused with almost sorrow and a reluctance to part.

Before I can decipher those cryptic code words, he has already cast his eyes downward, veiling the emotions within.

Is this a silent rejection? I exert myself to force a smile, intending to crack a joke to ease the situation, but then he speaks first.

Victor: [if a person’s voice alone could shatter one’s heart, I swear this would be it] There’s no need to wait till later. Let’s do it now.

In astonishment and jubilation, I look up, locking eyes with his sincere gaze.

On the night before the pivotal moment in destiny, I finally witness Victor’s wordless confession.

──────────

The following day, the National Convention proceeds as scheduled.

Attired in royal robes, Victor stands at the forefront. Below the platform, countless eyes, some treacherous and others devout, are all converged on him.

Victor: In my capacity as the king, I stand here only to declare one thing.

Victor: The mysterious disappearances in the capital over the years have all been caused by the Church.

The earth-shattering statement stirs up a commotion among the people, and the followers of the Church appear visibly unsettled.

Victor: The Church extracts energy for the “Blood King Crystal” through the massacre of civilians in blood sacrifice rituals.

Victor: As for the particulars, I will leave it to the Knight Commander to elucidate.

The attendants toss numerous sheets of paper into the crowd off the platform, each containing records of clear and unmistakable evidence.

In a matter of moments, the crowd transitions from initial silence to restlessness, ultimately erupting into an agitated uproar.

It turns out that the matter of the true culprit behind the disappearance cases has been an enduring emotional anchor for the people, completely overturning everyone’s cognition.

Some hurling curses, some wailing, and some even charging to express their scorn at the Church...

Amidst the chaos, only Victor’s voice, his calm and powerful words, continues forward with a steady resolve.

Crowd: Overthrow the Pope, give us back our people! Overthrow the Pope, give us back our people!

As the chants and shouts cease and amid the furious uproar of the crowd, the Pope, who is ringed, calmly casts a glance in Victor’s direction.

The Pope: Silence. Dear Compatriots.

The elderly Pope walks slowly to the center of the platform, an inscrutable and chilling smile playing on the layers of wrinkles on his face.

The Pope: His Majesty speaks the truth. The Church does indeed extract energy for the “Blood King Crystal,” and the blood sacrifice of civilians has truly occurred.

The Pope: However, all these casualties and deaths stemmed from the demands of the royal family!

The Pope: Throughout history, every king has relied on the “Blood King Crystal” to survive, and even our righteous and dignified king, His Majesty, is using it at this very moment!

The Pope: The very purpose of the “Blood King Crystal’s” existence is to secure the longevity of the king. Without a king, who will lead the country? How can the kingdom have a future?

The Pope raises the scepter high, directing it towards Victor.

The Pope: Your Majesty, the Church has been faithful and devoted to the Crown for all these years. As you pronounce judgment on the Church’s sins today, do you not feel a sense of guilt?

The wrath of the masses below the platform has no outlet after his manipulative and distorted speech, and their eyes shift to Victor.

Silent inquiries and judgments flood the eyes of the crowd, prepared to tear everything to shreds at any second.

The noble king, however, has maintained his impassive demeanor from the beginning. He lapses into a moment of silence, gazing into my eyes.

Amid the scrutiny of the spectators below, I lock my eyes with him, and in that gaze, I see the very same expression of unwillingness to part that I wasn’t able to discern last night.

But at this moment, I seem to understand its meaning.

Holding back the bitterness in my eyes, I take a step forward and speak in a loud voice.

MC: What the Pope said is true. The kings of the previous dynasties colluded with the Church for their personal gains, resulting in the slaughtering of civilians.

MC: However, the Blood King Crystal has never been a precious treasure, but rather a curse.

MC: As each king became more reliant on it, the health of the royal descendants suffered increasing repercussions, which led to an even deeper dependence on the Church.

MC: His Majesty has been working tirelessly to put an end to these nefarious activities, solely for the sake of the future of this country.

MC: As for the Blood King Crystal...

I close my eyes, my eloquent speech coming to an abrupt halt. This elicits puzzled murmurs from the crowd off the platform.

At this time, Victor walks to the forefront of the stage.

He retrieves the vivid red gem from his bosom, and the blinding luster falls on his chest, projecting an image as if blood were coursing through.

Victor: Behold, the Blood King Crystal.

Before anyone can comprehend, Victor swiftly exerts a slight force with his fingertips, and the Blood King Crystal instantly disintegrates into fine fragments in his hand.

Pope: You...!!

Countless crimson red powder, reminiscent of blood, streams out from between his fingers, and his complexion has already turned a shade of pallor.

The elixir of immortality, amassed from the sacrifice of countless human lives across generations of kings, the venomous sac upon which the Church depends for survival, has been completely eradicated before the eyes of everyone.

Victor: Those deserving of being brought to reckoning, not a single person will be spared.

Victor: That includes the Church, as well as the Royal family.

He unfurls the hand that holds the Blood King Crystal. His palm now only holds a thin layer of gemstone powder, and he allows it to be carried away by the northern breeze.

Victor: Henceforth, dust will return to the earth, and blood will be bestowed upon the people.

Victor: I shall personally redeem the filth that has accumulated for far too long.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

In the wake of the National Convention, Victor instigates a series of reform policies to root out corruption, setting off a massive surge across the country.

He works tirelessly day and night, paying no heed to my attempts to dissuade him. There is an urgency in him that I don’t want to understand, a rush that drives him to get everything in order.

Throughout this time, I’ve been seeking out renowned physicians from everywhere, but all I’ve received are negative answers filled with a mix of dread and despair.

Until one day, he slips back into a coma again, and even the duration of his coma seems to be stretching longer and longer as the days elapse.

And all I can do, or more accurately, want to do, is simply to remain by his side.

With his eyelashes hanging low, a gentle shadow falls upon that beautiful yet pallid face, and it seems even his breathing has become very light.

As I gaze at Victor’s side profile in deep slumber, I can no longer find the same relaxed and carefree state of mind I had when I first stepped into the royal bedchamber.

He is no longer someone who could have confined me, the husband I had never met before, but rather my beloved with whom I have been through thick and thin together.

My only wish is for him to open his eyes and look at me, share some dry jokes, and then walk with me through the streets and alleys again and observe how people are living nowadays...

Victor’s life began wither away the instant the Blood King Crystal was shattered. All he can do now is expend every ounce of the remaining warmth.

He knew the consequences better than anyone else, yet he still orchestrated his own ending with his own two hands.

I remain by the bedside, tightly holding onto his hand. I can’t tell whether I’m trying to comfort him or myself.

MC: [sobbing] Victor...

Tears well up and stream down my eyes. A hand reaches up to caress my cheek, gently wiping away those tears.

Victor: Why are you crying?

Victor has woken up at some point without my notice and is now frowning as he looks at me.

Quickly, I wipe away the tears in a haphazard manner, the corners of my eyes stinging from the abrasion of my forceful fingertips.

MC: I’m alright. Are you hungry? What would you like to eat?

Victor doesn’t answer. Instead, his gaze passes over my shoulder and settles on the view outside the window.

Victor: It’s snowing.

It’s only now do I take notice that the imperial palace courtyard has already been blanketed in snow, transforming into an expanse of pristine white.

Victor: Weren’t you most fond of building snowmen when you were a child? Why not give it a try now?

MC: But your health...

Victor: [in an even tender and heart-wrenchingly weaker tone] It’s just building a snowman.

I press my lips together. The truth is, I have long grown to despise winter, and I don’t like building snowmen anymore.

After the death of my parents, the attendants who had been my companions from childhood to adulthood were all substituted with the informants from the Church, and the duke’s mansion became eerily cold and desolate.

The winter season I once loved became increasingly colder as time went on, and I no longer had the desire to go out. Warmer seasons began to become more likable to me.

But none of these are worth mentioning to Victor. Because this winter— it is marked by the moment I met him.

I nod.

MC: Of course.

MC: In that case, I must show you the snowmen-building skills I’ve honed since childhood!

I force a smile and step outside with Victor after donning our outer garments. He tucks my hand into his cloak.

Victor: A certain someone was shivering in the cold during the last outing, and she still forgot to bring her gloves this time.

MC: I did it intentionally. Otherwise, how could I get Your Majesty to help warm my hands?

With this said, I slip my chin into my cloak, and the smile at the corner of my mouth instantly fades away.

Victor’s hand is much colder than mine. Taking a deep breath, I grip his hand even tighter, and together, we step into this pure white world.

──────────

The chilly breeze howls as Victor and I tread through the snow, neither of us uttering a word. [5]

Reminiscent of a wanderer losing its way, the mist hangs over the frigid ground and eventually dissipates into the pale grayish expanse above.

Victor suddenly loosens his hold on my hand.

Victor: Didn’t you want to showcase your skills to me? Why aren’t you going yet?

I cast a brief glance at the mounds of snow under the trees, nod in silence, and reluctantly let go of his hand despite my heart breaking. [6]

MC: Well, Your Majesty, please wait for just a short while.

I tighten Victor’s cloak for him, then dash to the snowdrifts and begin building a snowman.

My hands move at a blazing pace. There is only a single thought circling in my mind right now, and that is to swiftly end this time-wasting game and return to his side as fast as possible.

To add to my woes, the newly fallen snow proves challenging to shape, much like bleached wool. Despite my vigorous efforts to press the snow together time and again, the snowballs continue to fall apart, each and every time.

A mix of vexation and restlessness churns in my heart. I have nearly exhausted all the strength left in my body to mold the snowballs, and both my hands are now aching from the cold.

Victor: [with endless helplessness] Dummy, no one is competing with you for first place. There’s no need to be in such a rush.

Subconsciously, I pause in my movements, turn my head, and find him gazing at me with a serene expression.

The urgency and anxiety in my heart seem to find equilibrium, and my hands unconsciously settle into a steadier motion.

Regrettably, the snowman I end up crafting doesn’t even qualify to be described as “adorable.” Even so, Victor earnestly lowers his head, observing it with the bearing of a connoisseur appreciating a gem.

Victor: To create this shape without it falling apart is indeed a testament to skill.

His teasing remark elicits a chuckle from me. I pick up a twig and walk over to him.

MC: There’s still one last step, but it requires Your Majesty and me to complete it together.

Placing the twig in his hand, I then hold onto his hand, and together, we draw eyes and a mouth on the snowman’s face.

Victor chuckles softly, and conversely, he grasps my hand, guiding it to make strokes.

Victor: You’re holding so tightly; its eyes are all crooked now.

Looking at the snowman with its enlarged eyes due to our modifications, I’m just about to crack a few jokes when I notice a touch of weariness on Victor’s face.

MC: We’ve almost completed the snowman. Would you like to rest for a while?

Victor: I know a tavern. Come with me.

We’ve arrived at the alley where we met that kitten before. It has undergone a complete transformation, and the newly opened tavern is bustling with patrons.

It’s a snowy day, and the tavern is filled to capacity. I initially thought that there would be no seats available. However, the owner leads us straight into a room.

MC: Huh? Did you reserve the room with the owner in advance? But you weren’t...

Victor brushes away the snowflakes off my head, seeing through my puzzlement.

Victor: I arranged it in advance, yes.

Victor: Since I didn’t know when I would be awake, I told the owner beforehand that I would have this room reserved for as long as it snows.

The fire in the hearth produces a crackling sound. Victor’s facial features are enveloped in the cloud of heat, his eyes gentle.

Victor: I just thought that one day, I would take you out to see the snow.

We sit on the terrace, sipping the warm wine. Amidst the aroma of wine wafting in the air, he speaks in a soft tone.

Victor: I did stick my tongue to a cup in the past. It happened when I was five years old and had a taste of my father, the king’s red wine in secret. My mother, the queen, had gotten quite the shock.

MC: Eh? What are you talking about...

Victor: Dummy, aren’t you always clamoring about wanting to hear my stories?

He says it as if it were the most natural thing, as if this were merely an ordinary winter day, as if we were an ordinary married couple offhandedly conversing about our everyday life while enjoying a drink and keeping ourselves warm by the fire.

The north breeze makes my eyes sting, but I still force myself to smile as I look at him.

MC: So, it turns out that His Majesty was a dummy, too, when he was five years old. How about when you were six? What was it like?

Victor: When I was six...

In the back-and-forth questions and answers, more than twenty years of Victor’s life have become etched in my mind.

I dare not listen. I can’t help but feel as if once I’ve heard everything, he will leave me. And yet, I listen carefully to every single word.

I listen to the way he speaks each word— the way his teeth collide, the way his two lips meet, the way the nuances of his trailing notes alter between closing and releasing.

Victor: Next, it’s the day when I got married to a certain someone.

MC: ...there’s no need to tell the next part of the story. After all, the stories related to me have only begun.

Victor pauses, but doesn’t follow up my words with a playful remark.

MC: ...Victor?

Victor: What’s wrong?

I shake my head, and when I open my mouth again, the name that has been lingering on the edge of my lips and weighing on my heart spills out involuntarily.

MC: Victor.

Victor: Mm, I’m here.

He tacitly acquiesces to my almost naïvely foolish behavior, responding to my call of his name over and over again. It feels as though, if only I can keep confirming like this, the hole in my heart would be filled.

MC: ...Victor.

This time, he doesn’t speak. The silence forces me to stop.

MC: [sobbing] I just want to know... what can I do to make you stay... [7]

Victor sighs softly and beckons to me.

I lean over and nestle in his frigid arms.

As if he can no longer support the weight of his long, ink-black eyelashes, he casts his gaze downward. His nearly translucent skin appears as if it’s about to blend with the sunlight.

Victor reaches out and touches my cheek, his finger pads caressing the contours of my face with utmost gentleness, as if sketching my features.

His fingertips carry with them the chill of death, making me shiver involuntarily.

Slowly and stiffly, I weave my words together, but the sentences that come out of my mouth are still shakily out of tune.

MC: [teary-eyed x1] Victor, do you find it a little chilly? Maybe your cloak is too thin?

MC: [x2] The fire is obviously burning so strongly, and the mead is also very warm... [8]

MC: [x3] Look, there’s a kitten on the eaves over there. Isn’t it the one we met that day?

MC: [x4] It looks so lively today. Seems like its frame of mind is as cheerful as ours.

When I utter the last sentence, I hear his gentle sigh.

At the same time, the laughter of playful children chasing each other, the chatter of young people, and the sighs of emotions of the elderly can be heard amidst the wind and snow.

Victor: Hear that, the sounds outside.

The sunlight seeps through the terrace, haloing and enveloping the surroundings with a layer of warm and bright haze.

Bathed in that glow, my body’s consciousness returns little by little. I tightly clutch his hand, no longer shaking.

MC: [x5] I can hear it. It’s almost New Year, and the streets are bustling and serene.

Victor: The snowfall this year is promising. So, the harvest will be abundant next year.

MC: [x6] Yes, people will become more affluent and happier.

Victor: You will be a part of it all, too, and that’s really good.

I bury myself in his chest, silently listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, one beat after another.

The heartbeat in my ears, following its rapid pace, begins to grow increasingly feeble. A realization dawns on me, and I force myself to lift my head and look at him.

He is akin to a wan rose, wilting before my desperate eyes that seek to make him stay, withering within my outstretched arms as I reach out to hold on.

From limbs to blood, to the light in his eyes— bit by bit, the luster fades.

My king entrusts the future of this country to me, and then he steps out of time, heading toward eternal peace.

I gently incline my body, kissing his peacefully closed eyes.

MC: ...good night.

This time, I don’t receive any response from him, but the snowstorm suddenly ceases.

The curtain of the evening has already descended, and the vermillion sun sinks below the horizon. The final ray of the splendid afterglow thaws the ice and snow of the land.

MC: Victor, I will take you to witness the tomorrow of this kingdom.

──────────

[Notes]:

[5] The exact phrase here actually was “冷风呜呜作响,” which literally means “the chilly breeze is producing a mournful sound”-- the “呜呜” used here is the onomatopoetic word for “sobbing/ wailing.” wanted to include this note as an example to gush about the brilliant atmospheric descriptions LZY writers use, e.g., the picture painted here echoes that even the nature is mourning at this slow, rather unfair, transition, mirroring the heroine’s and LZY’s pain of parting. ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ

[6] The expression used here is “依依不舍,” one of my favorite phrases and hated ones to translate LOL. You’d usually see this phrase being translated as “reluctant/unwilling,” but it doesn’t even come close to expressing the depth of its meaning. The phrase means “reluctance to part with sb you love/ being broken-hearted at having to leave,” with an underlying tone of “wanting to be with that person regardless,” -- and I tried to retain the OG meaning without being too wordy haha~

[7] Not sure how much of the sentiment I could make it come across in the translation—the term (留住) MC uses here literally means “ask sb to stay/ keep sb for the night/ ask them to wait.” the beauty of it lies in the fact that it expresses such a multitude of emotions— desperately wanting to keep sb in your life despite knowing it’s not up to either of you so you want to know if they can wait for you even though you know it’s not possible~ ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ

[8] Mead (蜂蜜酒), also known as honey wine, is a type of alcoholic beverage made by fermenting honey mixed with water and other fruits. You can google it to know about it in detail if you want LOL.

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#you guys probably already know how I’ve been screaming about this date since release haha.#it actually sits very high in my most favorite date list hahaha. and naturally as much as i wish to go on a screaming parade #- i just don't have the time right now. I'll get back to it later and do a thread on twitter B/C I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO TALK ABOUT~#MESSIAH ARCHETYPE AT ITS FINEST. GOD FALLING IN LOVE WITH HUMAN TROPE AT ITS FINEST. YOUR NAME IS A SPELL TROPE AT ITS BEST #this date is everything EVERYTHING literally EVERYTHING— JUST UHHH #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

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