#let me be clear: this is affectionate. i love this man and his cursed ability to survive everything

[vultures-and-scavengers]

daemon au's... 'cullen has a lion' this, 'cullen has a mabari' that, all lies. that man has a cockroach for a daemon bc he keeps inexplicably surviving progressively worse events and i would like to point out if you consider the conclave a magical nuke, he did, in fact, survive it.

[breadinanutshell]

I made a list of Halsin facts for my own entertainment a while back but forgot to post it. Dunno if anyone would find this interesting but in case here it is, enjoy~ o/

ACT1

-He writes in tight scribbles, smokes the pipe and loves reading (likely non-fiction). He’s the studious sort, considering his unprompted interest in the parasites and his hunger for knowledge. This aspect of him was more defined in Early Access but sadly got lost during full release. It also briefly comes up during one of his banters in later chapters.

-He rarely drinks: he’s a lightweight and gets overly affectionate when drunk. He also sings when drunk. Badly, per his word.

-Is an actual Disney princess (he has birds scouting and reporting back to him).

-He has a strong sense of duty, so much so he will stop paying attention to other aspects of his life in the pursuit of it. At least in one instance, this has been depicted as a flaw (when he abandons the grove looking for the Nightsong).

-He enjoys spending time in his bear form, and appears to have been the main caretaker for the bears in the grove. Ormn in particular acts heartbroken that Halsin is missing.

-When given the chance, he’s eager to give up his position as archdruid, as he felt it was too draining and confining. Despite his insecurities in his ability as a leader, he’s more shrewd and wise than he lets on: he can play politics when necessary. And people around him have been more than happy to rely on him. He cares about those under his protection. A lot. “The grove is everything to me”.

-He doesn’t shy away from violence when provoked.

-He feels responsible for the shadow curse, and is compelled by the need to fix everything.

-This is a relic from Early Access but you’ll have to pry it from my cold dead hands: in the grove there used to be a fanfic titled “Shadow’s Kiss” written by the druid Roan that featured a certain “Balsin”. At the end of it a written entry by Halsin would threaten to feed Roan to Ormn if he ever saw the name “Balsin” again.

ACT2

-He likes open spaces, reading and whittling utensils and ornaments (ducks in particular). He’s got a sweet tooth and a fondness for honey. He finds it hurtful when he's made fun of for his interests: he admits people tend to underestimate his sensitivity.

-He’s a very religious man and invokes Silvanus any chance he gets. Even so he doesn’t believe in blind faith and chides Shadowheart for not questioning Shar’s teachings.

-He’s 350 years old.

-He has no mercy for goblins, to the point where he disapproves if you spare them in Moonrise. A bit funny, considering there’s a banter later on with Karlach where he insists that “mercy costs us nothing”.

-His scars were caused by a bear who didn’t appreciate being spurned during mating season.

-He’s a veteran who served in the battle against Ketheric Thorm in Reithwin, where eventually the druids and Harpers won. At the time he was likely second to the archdruid that led him into battle. When the shadow curse started spreading, said archdruid died, leaving Halsin in charge. He immediately evacuated the survivors. He still feels guilty for not being able to help more that day. From one of his party banters it’s clear Halsin suffers from survivor’s guilt. He’s lost many friends to the curse, so many in fact that “it would take a day and a night to recite the names of the fallen”.

-Considering how obsessed he’s been with the curse ravaging the land for the past 100 years, it’s unlikely he had any intimate connections during this period of time. He also claims that more good has been done since meeting Tav than in the 100 years before their meeting.

-His family is dead and buried at the foot of the Grandfather Tree in High Forest.

-He seems used to changing environments and affiliations. Once recruited, he’s quick to call Tav his new family.

-He remains polite in the face of scorn and ridicule. Right when he joins if you suggest all he’s good for is cleaning camp he responds with an awkward chuckle and a “wherever you need me”. Later in Act 3 his affections can be brusquely turned down by comparing him to a deep rothé, to which he calmly responds “a simple no would have sufficed”.

-As a child he befriended Thaniel, a spirit of nature, and ever since then he felt a higher calling. Thaniel appears to be as fond of Halsin as Halsin is of Thaniel, mentioning him often to Fist Art Cullagh during their imprisonment in the Shadowfell.

-He is the only expert of shadow curse alive, and if killed in Act 1 the curse cannot be lifted.

ACT3

-He believes himself, or at the very least aims to be, a protector. Any failure (or perceived failure) in fulfilling said role leads him to spirals of self doubt and insecurity. His self worth is heavily dependent on how useful he can be, and without a big purpose or mission to fulfill, he appears lost. In the same vein he seems incapable of staying still and relax, he always needs something to focus on.

-In true druid spirit, he considers cities to be intruding on nature’s realm. On his arrival to Baldur’s Gate, he's appalled and disgusted by the class inequality encountered in the city. He’s disturbed by the suffering of children, in particular.

-When called naive for his dream of a better future he mentions he gave up cynicism when he was 200 years old.

-He’s all for heckling Dribbles’ corny jokes.

-He sees his body as a vessel and his physical prowess as a tool. He takes no pride in it.

-He admits that he didn’t realize how much his responsibilities had been weighting on him until Tav showed up and took that burden away.

-He’s polyamorous, and pretty lax when it comes to sex and relationships: he has no qualms in taking pleasure where “desire finds purchase”. He mentions that he had many lovers in the past and that his heart doesn’t stir lightly. This might imply he’s laid with many, but cared for few. He also doesn’t appear thrilled by the prospect of marriage/tying yourself forever to someone. For a man so against putting a relationship into words, he acts incredibly smitten when romanced and showers his partner in all kinds of sweet praises.

-He’s so attuned to his wildshape that he tends to lose control of his transformations when overcome by strong emotions (i.e. anger, arousal). He appears embarrassed when this accidentally happens in an intimate situation. He does enjoy wildshape during intercourse though, as he even proposes it himself during an interaction with Shadowheart. Per his word, he doesn’t discriminate against any type: in an interaction with Lae'zel he implies he slept with a chimera.

-He considers lust to be the most essential of impulses and feels it’s only natural to be guided by it.

-He’s travelled far and wide. Where we do not know, unfortunately. He mentions he’s been to the Underdark many times and possibly the Nelanther Isles. In his youth he ventured into the Underdark to sate his own wanderlust, where he got captured, enslaved and sexually abused by drows for 3 years.

-He’s self aware of his obsession with nature. When Jaheira warns him not to fall into druid stereotypes, he comments that he does think about other topics such as high art and politics, but to him nothing compares to a tree.

-When speaking of his past, he comments that people seem to focus on the more “salacious chapters” and disregard his years of study. When confronted about it, he seems perfectly content with a life spent studying, meditating, counselling, fighting, training and fucking.

-He used to hibernate as a bear and mentions he spent at least 100 years of his life sleeping. It’s unclear if he’s still in the habit.

-At the end of the campaign he sets out to create a new community in Reithwin with the victims of war and refugees that were turned away from the city. The children of this soon-to-be-founded community refer to him as “daddy Halsin”.

-He considers himself an exceedingly patient man.

[superhero--imagines]

Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info

Part 2 Here!/ Part 3 Here! / Playlist Here!

* Sorry guys but this mans been living in my head rent free

* So the first time you see Satoru it’s with those black specs he likes to wear and you get a glance at those GORGEOUS eyes

* He meets your eyes for a second before looking away, it’s the briefest of interactions

* But your heart is racing and you can feel the familiar heat of attraction starting to lap at your face

* ‘He looks just like a prince’ you think

* You find out pretty fast the ‘prince’ similarities stop at appearance

* “Ah it’s not my fault you’re so weak~” You hear him say with the princely smile as he teases Utahime

* It looks like he’s held something so high she can’t reach it

* “Try your best, if you drink plenty of milk I’m sure you’ll be tall enough one day~” he says before laughing with that same princely face

* “You shouldn’t pick on those that are weaker than you” Geto intervenes, somehow making the entire situation worse

* You watch as Gojo laughs

* You’re starting to think he might be the real curse you need to exorcise

* You continue watching him as Utahime tries to kick him in the crotch

* “You silly girl, did you forget there’s an infinity between us?” Cue Gojo’s “A-hahahahaha” laugh

* Yeah, he’s definitely a demon

* You keep your distance, Gojo’s beautiful and all, but you’re not dumb, you’ve heard about the Satoru clan.

* “Hey Geto-Kun, who do you think would win in a fight me or a lion?”

* Besides that guy is way too reckless, you’d rather not get all mixed up in that if you can help it

* You watch as Satoru takes his shirt off, his well defined chest glistening

* Still, you’re grateful for the show

* Little do you know the famous Gojo Satoru has taken note of you as well

* Naturally given his ability he notices everyone, but he especially takes note of you

* It’s not because you stand out, quite the opposite

* You blend into the background easily, supporting others when needed

* But not to the degree where you unable to defend yourself, or you’re sacrificing your own life for someone else

* He grins

* Looks like he found something interesting

* You’re at the vending machine eyes racking over the drink selection

* But there’s another thirst quenching sight right next to you, their hand resting on the vending machine, that princely smile aimed right at you-

* “So what do you say?” Satoru asks, and you start to wonder if that princely smile seems just a bit wolfish “Do you want to be my lover?”

* You’re kind of annoyed

* What an impetuous question, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve spoken to each other, and you only need both hands to count the words said in each of those encounters

* “No”

* You turn your attention back to your drink choices, it’s pleasant weather so you don’t want anything hot.

* Anything carbonated is out of the-

* Gojo moves closer, peering into your face with that grin

* Ugh does he have to stand so close

* “Why ‘no’? I know you think I’m attractive”

* “I also think you’re a womanizer with a god complex”

* And really why shouldn’t he be?

* He’s probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life, not to add the sheer power he contains in that body of his

* But just as he has the right to be a womanizer with a god complex, you have the right not to take part in that narrative

* He backs away, leaning back against the wall

* So he’s not going to deny it

* Well, at least he’s somewhat self aware

* Those clear blue eyes catch yours again, and you have to fight against every human instinct from showing any human reaction

* You turn back to the vending machine making your selection when a smile lilts onto his mouth

* “Friends then”

* “Just colleagues” you reply, grabbing your drink

* But as you walk by you push a canned beverage into his chest.

* It’s a can of green tea

* It’s his favorite drink

* He looks to you seeing a bottle glinting in your hand

* So you didn’t sacrifice your own thirst, but you also didn’t ignore his needs

* He feels that same wolffish grin curl onto his mouth

* “What an entertaining person”

* After that if you’re anywhere within a 50 feet radius of him he’ll go out of his way to get your attention

* “Oh wow, looking especially radiant this morning (Y/N/N)” he’ll say with a playful seductive wink

* When you don’t respond he tries annoying you instead

* “Ah you can’t reach that? Here let me-” and then he’ll proceed to hold it even further out of your reach

* He’s expecting you to jump up and down, or at least give some sort of response but you just walk away

* Well that wasn’t what he expected

* He feels that grin spread across his face again

* Very interesting

* His attraction to you is pretty shallow

* He’s interested you because you’re entertaining

* And you’re entertaining because you aren’t interested

* Which only makes him that much more interested in you

* Its a paradox

* You watch him flounder around, annoying Utahime for a giggle

* Well it doesn’t matter anyway, you know how he is, he’ll get bored soon enough and lose all interest in you

* He’s not the strongest {f*ckboy} for nothing

* You see him turn to meet your gaze, offering a boyish smile and a wink

* You make sure not to give any reaction, turning to listen to something Shoko is telling you

* You hope he can’t sense the twinge of heat you feel on your face

* You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the attention a little flattering

* I think for the most part you’re right, Satoru is mostly playing around-

* At least at first.

* You’re just something new and fun no one knows about, and wildly entertaining since you never respond the way he thinks you will

* You’re kind, but not at the expense of yourself, and he likes that

* Besides you’ve got this quite sort of consideration for others-

* It’s not flashy, it’s so subtle most people hardly notice

* It’s in the way you bring an extra snack for Utahime when she’s running herself ragged training

* “They were having a two for one special”

* Or the way you’ll get your teacher a plushie you saw at a shop at the station because you know he needs more

* “I just thought it was cute, but I haven’t got any room for another one”

* You’re quiet, someone who hears things and she’s things, but never says anything about them

* A wallflower

* But you’re not weak

* There’s something about those two things put together in the same person that entertains him to no end. Like a paradox or a puzzle he can’t seem to solve no matter how hard he tries

* Satoru’s had at least a hundred lovers, and a great many of them had provided him with their own brand of kindness and consideration

* But he’s never felt something as warm as when he see’s a lunch box in his dorm after he hobbles back from a mission that lasted a little longer than expected

* He peers at the note attached, it’s not even signed but he knows it’s from you

* “I know you think you’re god or whatever, but even gods have to eat”

* He doesn’t know why, but he’s overcome with the urge to cry

* He gulps hard- it’s not like this a lunch you made by hand or anything, it’s just something from the convenience store

* And it’s not like this note is particularly affectionate or special either, he’s gotten entire love letters from his previous lovers

* So he’s not sure why he saves your note, placing it behind a picture frame where only he’ll know it is , or why he thinks that convenience store lunchbox is the most delicious thing he’s ever had

* Even though he knows he cares about you, and that he’s grown quite fond of you -

* I don’t think it clicks for him

* And part of that is because well, he’s Gojo Satoru

* He collects lovers like some people collect photographs or memories

* They serve their purpose, and he lets himself be entertained by pretending all the feelings are real, and then he moves on to the next one

* It’s just what he’s used to

* And this whole paradox you two have going on could go on for a few years until something finally shifts

* He went a little too far with one his half-flirting-half-tormenting pranks

* And for the first time you give him a reaction, it’s only for a second, but annoyance and anger mar you face

* And then just like that, it’s gone and you turn and walk off in the other direction

* Sh*t.

* He went too far didn’t he?

* It should be fine right? You’re not too mad at him right? You’ll get over it-

* Right?

* But for the next few days you don’t speak to him, and you don’t make eye contact

* It bothers him more than it should

* Normally he would be annoyed that his toy would have the gall to blatantly ignore him like this-

* But this is different than that.

* He’s-

* He’s feeling regret

* He shouldn’t have acted that way to you, maybe if he had just done something differently, or said something differently-

* It’s not like the way things were between you two was ideal or anything,

* But at least then you would at least speak to him

* ... and every once in while he would get to see you smile

* It’s never at him, it’s mostly when you’re with Shoko or Utahime

* Occasionally when you’re with Nanami or Geto, who you’ve been talking to more recently

* He’s pretty sure you three are talking about him, just one day away from forming a “down with Gojo Satoru” club

* Still that smile when you laugh-

* The way you look so carefree and young and so full of life is worth all the slander in the world to him

* He needs to see that smile, to know something that wholesome and kind exists somewhere in this cruel world

* Satoru’s thinking about how to go about apologizing to you

* He’s caught between buying you a Lamborghini or buying you a special grade tool when he ends up running into you

* “Ah, could you help me with something?”

* He would quite literally give you the clothes on his back right now if you asked

* You stand up on a a chair holding a glass of water

* “Apparently this is supposed to help with concentration or something” You say pressing the glass full of water to the ceiling

* “Can you hold this broom?” You ask and Satoru nods, holding the broom handle steady as you make sure it’s pushed against the glass holding it steady

* You nod approvingly down at him

* The rest happens pretty fast, you’re off the chair, carrying it away

* “The broom is actually a special grade tool, so cursed energy won’t work on it”

* You grin

* “Have fun figuring how to get out of that Baka Prince!” You say with a laugh

* And Satoru is dumbfounded

* But not because you just pranked him into a holding up a glass of water with a broom

* But because as you were rushing away, you showed him your teasing grin

* It’s the first time you smiled at him

* And as he looks up at the glass of water, a smile slowly spreads across his face

* It’s not the wolffish smile he usually has when he’s around you, or the princely smile he uses when he’s trying to get something

* It’s a genuine smile

* Ah, so that’s it

* He’s fallen in love with you

* If you’re not the one entertaining him, then he’s just not interested

* Ah geez

* He was so focused on trying to get you to fall in love with him that he really didn’t see this coming

* Well he’ll have to start being serious about pursuing you now-

* Though for you to pull off something like this on him tells him you’re his ideal match without a doubt

* A wallflower with a mischievous streak, he likes that.

* He scratches his head with his free hand

* “I wonder how I’m supposed to get out of this?” He muses looking up at the glass full of water

[fairyoftbz]

insecurities | l. juyeon

🧸 pairing: idol!juyeon x (insecure) fem!reader 🧸 word count: 2.7k 🧸 genre: angst, fluffy end 🧸 tw: mentions of insecurities, doubts 🧸 a/n: sorry i forgot to post, i had a busy day and im exhausted, i hope it's gonna be enough! 🧸 requested: yes! thank you, it is very cliché but i hope this is what you had in mind! 💝

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Juyeon came home tired but happy, excited to see you again after a long day of intense practice and a show where he participated as an MC. You, on the other hand, were not as happy as he was, but you were for sure tired of something.

You couldn’t deny it, dating Juyeon had positive points, he was everything you could ask for in a man, but there were just as many negative points. He was an attractive, sweet gentleman, and it was almost impossible for him not to attract other girls, not even doing it on purpose. And it was one of your many insecurities even if you considered yourself pretty, you couldn’t help but get insecure every time he talked to someone else.

Because let’s be honest, in the Korean music industry, every single woman looks like an absolute goddess. So, when he interacts with someone, and they’re a bit too friendly, your heart pinches in pain as he gives them the smile he keeps for you and you only.

You think that they are more interesting, prettier and funnier than you, which has the ability to send your thoughts to the dark side of self-consciousness, not feeling pretty or enough next to those women. And tonight, it was hard to watch on National TV your boyfriend being extremely friendly with the other MC.

You had tried to comfort yourself that it was just a mask, that he had to look friendly and handsome on TV. However, you couldn’t help feeling disappointment and anger as he gave attentive eyes to the other MC as she explained something, his eyes falling on her lips pressed against the mic.

Juyeon walks through the main door, tossing his keys on the chest of drawers, getting rid of his jacket and shoes before joining you in the living room, happy to see that you were watching the same channel he appeared on. Eyes glued on the screen, your thumb rubbed against your lips, feeling the skin of the cuticles you scratched while watching your boyfriend feeling rough against your lips.

“Hi love,” he said as he sat next to you, pressing his lips on your cheek. You didn’t react, only emitting a slight hum as he sat comfortably.

Juyeon frowned but didn’t raise your bad mood, trying to think what was going on inside your head. Maybe you had a bad day, or you were just tired, despite scratching his head and think, he couldn’t pinpoint what had brought you in such a bad mood.

“Did you have fun?” you bitterly spat, and Juyeon’s eyes widened, surprised by your tone, the wrinkle on his forehead deepening as his brows furrowed at your attitude.

“I did. Are you mad or something?” he bluntly asked, and you sighed, taking the remote to turn the TV off, falling in an unpleasant, uncomfortable silence.

“Oh no, I’m super fine. I really enjoyed my boyfriend giving heart eyes to another girl on national TV, it was such a nice thing to watch,” you bitterly chuckled, and Juyeon’s eyes widened even more, not expecting you to pull out the jealousy card on that.

“Babe, what are you talking about? You know-”

“Please, spare me your fake confusion and lame excuses, I clearly saw what I saw. My eyes never deceive me,” you said while standing up, but Juyeon was quick to imitate you and grab your wrist to prevent you from walking away. You tried to free yourself from his grip, but he only tightened his hand around it.

“Juyeon, let me go,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to prevent the tears from escaping your eyes. Breaking down was the last thing you wanted to do in this situation.

“Not before you explain to me what this fuss is all about,” he said, irritation replacing confusion in his eyes. You let out a mocking scoff, your eyes filled with anger and disdain boring into your boyfriend’s, holding eye contact for a few seconds.

“You really think I’m this dumb? I clearly saw the eyes you gave to the other MC when you were both animating the show. Cracking jokes, giving her smiles that could outshine the sun, your eyes ogling her lips when she was talking or smiling. Did you really think I wouldn’t catch that?” you raised your voice, letting anger take over your body.

“I never did all of that, I don’t know what you are insinuating,” he spat, trying not to show it, but your words hurt him, hating the fact that you could imagine him cheat on you or fancy another girl.

“Go on social media then, you will see what I am ‘insinuating’! Everyone is already talking about how whipped you are and how cute of a couple you would look together. Some fans are even starting to make edits!” you shouted, shoving your phone in your hoodie’s front pocket.

Juyeon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his nerves a bit, a gesture that had the ability to enrage you even more. Your family used to do that when they found you annoying or wanted to belittle you, and now seeing Juyeon doing the exact same thing as them really made you even more insecure about this whole situation. Your family made you feel like a real burden during your childhood and teen years that it hurt you to think that Juyeon was probably agreeing with that thought right now.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you are talking about. I was just trying to be nice, I can’t be rude or it’s mine and the group’s reputation that I’ll take down with me-”

“No it’s okay, no need to explain yourself, the message was very clear,” you said, and you finally freed yourself from his grip, your heart breaking as Juyeon sighed in annoyance again, seeing him almost roll his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant, and you know it. Don’t react like that, please,” he started, but you waved your hand in front of you.

“No, no, I got it, you-”

“Y/N, for the love of God, stop being so fucking insecure, it’s getting so fucking annoying at this point! I can’t do anything without you getting fucking doubtful, start having faith in me and in this relationship, dammit!” your eyes widened as Juyeon eventually snapped, his mouth slowly closing as he stared at you, realisation hitting him that his words and tone made a lot of damage once he saw the tears gather in your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The couch separated the two of you, creating the illusion of a painful wall that made you shiver, feeling like your apartment had lost all of its warmth on the spur of the moment. His words were brutal, and they bounced around your skull, your head turning towards the corridor to swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying not to break down in front of him.

“Y/N, I’m-”

“Leave me alone,” you replied, voice wavering as you walked out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door shut before locking it.

Juyeon sighed and carded his hands through his dark locks, closing his eyes as he thought of the words that had escaped his mouth too quickly. He cursed under his breath as the living room fell into a deafening silence, his hands linked at the back of his neck as he thought of what just happened.

“Why did I say that,” he muttered under his breath and collapsed on the couch, unlocking his phone and scrolling on social media to try and momentarily forget your beautiful face painted with a hurtful expression because of him, but it was to no avail.

He saw what you saw; the fiction, the edits, the collages, he saw and read everything. He already hated seeing you cry and being hurt, but he actually loathed himself for being such an idiot and not comfort you about the whole situation with what was happening on every social platform.

His heart shattered in millions of pieces as he pictured you crying in your shared bed, holding the stuffed animal he got you for your anniversary tight against your chest, letting you drown in your insecurities and intrusive thoughts. He loved you very much, but despite him trying to remind you every single day, your intrusive thoughts always managed to get the upper hand when you found yourself hanging out on your own or with some friends. It was as if your brain shut out everyone who tried to reassure you or make you feel better, letting you drown and struggle in your sorrow.

Yes, the other idols were pretty, but they were nothing compared to you. Juyeon had only eyes for you and cared about you and, of course, his members, but never had he thought about leaving you for someone else. His intentions were just to sound and appear nice and welcoming on TV because he knew that some fans, antis and media wouldn’t hesitate a second to bash him on different platforms and articles for his rudeness and insensitivity towards his idol colleague. And not only would he break his reputation, but also the group’s, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

However, he also understood that it was something hard to watch for you, even if he reminded you every single day that you were the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Sitting on the couch, he started reflecting, putting himself in your shoes for a second. How would he have reacted if he saw you being super friendly and affectionate to another man? Someone more handsome, nicer than him, cracking jokes here and there to see you smile and laugh.

He tossed his phone on the couch space next to him, where he wished you were instead of crying yourself in your shared bed, watching the device bounce, collide with the armrest and fall on the ground. He didn’t even fret checking if the screen cracked, head too high in his thoughts to bother.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he pressed his joined hands against his mouth, tongue poking his inner cheek as he realised he had really messed everything up. His knee started bouncing at the disgusting thought of losing you, perfectly knowing that he had to do something before you could slip through his hand like grains of sand.

Juyeon stood up and knocked on the bedroom door, softly calling for your name.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you didn’t respond, faintly hearing you cry on the other side of the wall. “Go away, please,” your strained voice barely making it to his ears, his fingers drumming against the surface of the door in frustration.

From your side of the bed, still holding that teddy bear close to your chest, you let your tears damp the top of its head, feeling the exhaustion of crying kicking in. Juyeon didn’t knock another time, trying not to push your buttons too much to save his chances to talk to you.

You heard a small thud on the lower part of the door, frowning as you wondered what it was. Deep breathings filled in the silence lingering in the corridor, selfishly feeling a bit relieved that you weren’t the only one hurt in this situation. Juyeon was a smart, tolerant man, he knew when to put his pride aside and not blame you for something you said or did. Well, it’s not the case for this time, and it’s probably exhaustion that spoke for him, and that, of course, doesn’t excuse anything, but he wanted to apologise and make up for everything.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me or hear my voice after what I’ve told you, but I really want to apologise for what I’ve said,” you held your breath to hear his faint, low voice on the other side of the door. You sat up and felt dizzy for a quick second, still holding the teddy bear against your chest, your face buried in its head as you let the tears keep rolling on your cheeks.

“I know it’s hard to date me, and I’m really sorry, I wish we had a simpler life, where we could hang out and go on dates like two normal people. It’s also hard for me to not be the type of boyfriend everyone wishes to have, but I’m so damn grateful to call you mine.” Juyeon marked a pause and ruffled his hair, pushing the front pieces away from his hair while thinking of his following words.

“I… you don’t know how much I’m sorry for using your insecurities against you. I shouldn’t have, it was the dumbest move I could ever do, but I just didn’t know what to answer. You are so pretty, so beautiful, amazing, and absolutely wonderful to have around to me, so seeing you this insecure makes me mad every time you compare yourself to someone you think looks prettier, thinner, or more perfect than you. It’s... really frustrating because I try my best to make you feel like a goddess and worth it every day, but those unrealistic society standards and god damn social media make you feel like you are not worth an ounce of love,” he took in a big breath and raised his knees upwards, letting his forearms rest on them.

You slowly opened the door behind him and dropped the teddy bear by his side, letting him know of your presence. He was quick to notice it and turn around to hug your legs tightly, your hands finding their way in his hair and started massaging his skull.

“I’m so sorry, Ju,” you faintly whispered, and he breathed in deeply against your skin as if he finally found you again after being separated from you for years.

He grabbed your cherished stuffed animal and stood up, holding it against your chest with a tender smile. He sat you down on the bed and gave you a proper hug, mouth pressing loving kisses on your forehead and temple as his hand caressed the back of your head, holding you as close to him as possible.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really am. I love you so, so much, I’m really sorry for all the stupid words I’ve thrown at you,” he said, and you shook your head, squeezing your arms around his middle tightly as an answer.

“I guess I have to accept that you have eyes only for me. But you know, it’s hard to acknowledge it and believe it when you find everyone around you ten times more beautiful than you are,” you mumbled against his chest as you sat on his lap, and he nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat.

“I know Y/N, I know. I wish I could rid you of those insecurities, my heart breaks each time I see you so unsure of yourself. You're just so beautiful and amazing, it honestly kills me to see you like this,” he whispered, and you bitterly chuckled, gently pulling away to look at him with pearly eyes, his arms around you holding you still tight, making sure that you wouldn’t go too far from him.

“You can’t do that, but maybe you can help me soothe them by keeping loving me the way you’ve done since day one,” you mumbled, and he smiled, his eyes shining with tears just like yours.

You both cupped each other’s face and sadly smiled at the other, Juyeon feeling comforted at the sensation of your thumbs wiping the tears away from his cheeks and vice versa.

“We just need time, love, but I promise I’m going to help you realise how much you mean to me and how beautiful you are. And how much I don’t care about other girls,” he mumbled, and he gently drew your face closer to his, your lips grazing against his mouth. You closed your eyes at the proximity, feeling so much love and passion in his kiss that it was getting hard to breathe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Juyeon pulled away from your lips and whispered against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours.

“I love you too,” you smiled, burying your face in his neck, your boyfriend kissing the crown of your head while hugging you tight.

You giggled as Juyeon applied pressure on your waist, making you fall on your side on the bed. His hand gently cradled your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone with a soft smile on his face. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against his, feeling him chuckle and gently press his lips against yours.

[wizkiddx]

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?” 

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 

“You good?” His answer was predictable. 

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt. 

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 

[liam-cadmus]

A/B/O dynamics. with a twist.  — i’m done seeing omegas as the ones rare in a/b/o. how about alphas. Konoha is full of omegas and betas, as the current norm. Alphas are quite rare, depending on the clan. Omegas lead the village more than the other two secondary genders, using 60% of the population. The rest, 35% of the village are betas, with the staggering number of 5% for the alphas, from any clan.  Alphas have unnatural strength, making the elders prone to keep them in the village, and stop them from fleeing. Some are respected, and some are feared, the members of the village hesitant in being with an alpha, in case they get controlled by the alpha voice. Mikoto made sure to remind her youngest to always, always keep his scent blocker on at all times, and made it their mission to hide his gender. Sasuke presented as the second alpha of their generation. That isn’t the reason why she wants him to hide it, aside from the backlash he’s going to receive. She doesn’t, and will not, allow her child be another weapon, a tool to the village. She knows it, seen it, the way people regard Uchihas as aggressive, emotionless, and unsympathetic people.  She knows, he’s gonna be used, controlled. They would use him against the clan...And they would get crushed to the ground with accusations of Sasuke controlling others. She wants to protect him from the rest of the world, to let him be his happy, loud self without being judged by the stereotypes.  Sasuke is a bright child, with grins as wide as the sun, blinding. He has the darkest eyes, like the night sky. With fair skin as light as the moon. He’s lean, without the usual bulk his father has on his shoulders and legs, leaning into his mother’s features with big doe eyes and lanky limbs. Splitting image, with his father���s attitude and mother’s looks. He was told to be an omega like his nii-san, looking so similar.  His mother made it a mission, making sure to teach him manners. He grew, being polite and civil in important gatherings, how to talk smoothly with respect. To bow with grace and smile with acknowledgement, to praise and to appreciate. He knew the responsibilities he too, carry as the son of the clan head, even if he was the second. He knew, and learnt. Became to be his mother’s gentle child to his father’s kind child, Itachi. Their Uchiha temper is still there, but he managed to control, to dull it under a facade, a mask. His eager and curiosity hidden behind his quiet, patient eyes, even if all he wants to do is ask without thinking about the consequences. Shisui would always look at him with a genuine smile, “I know you’ll bring peace.” His cousin would say, the only other alpha besides his father in the clan. Shisui would encourage and teach him, becoming his other older brother, than Itachi’s ‘maybe next times’. He smiled emptily once, looking more like a grimace. His Mangekyou ability reflected on his secondary gender. ‘I can cast a powerful mind-controlling genjutsu on victims so that they obey me without realizing. I can change their thoughts and future decisi—‘ Shisui stills, before gagging, leaning to the side, horror filling his face, blood red tears flowing down. ‘I won’t ever use it. Never.’ He said it with so much conviction and honesty, that it brought Sasuke to tears. Shisui is the most caring, affectionate, good-natured, understanding man ever, and even if he didn’t say that, Sasuke knows deep in his heart, his soul, that he still would never use that. Shisui and Itachi would always steer him away whenever Danzo is near, Shisui even opting to body flicker just to hide him. ‘Danzo would take Sasuke if he could. You’re already being watched, Shi.’ Itachi murmured one time, his rose and honey scent turning metallic and strong. Shisui’s pheromones tip over like a wave, the salt of the seabreeze and pine cones. He learnt not to trust the council man, and the suspicious bandages covering his arm.  Pack. ‘It is something you care for. You protect it with all of your heart.’ Mikoto Uchiha once said. ‘They’re the ones that will be with you for life. You protect. You do not control. You protect.’ she says, when he was missing Itachi. He learnt he had a strong, high alpha instincts, on how protective he can be. ‘You can hide it, but you can never keep it away. ‘  Sasuke knew independence. He became one with it when he was alone. When all of his loved ones disappeared in one day. They went alongside his voice, and emotions, leaving him blank as a slate, his burnt cedar and mint scent dull and bland. Silence. He became quiet, unnaturally so, his past shell of smiles and grins disappearing. His pack was killed, by his own brother, and he wasn’t even there. He wasn’t there. He failed. He failed to protect his pack. Protect. He allowed the hatred, the vengeance, the loss, grief, pull him to the darkness. He let it settle deep in his heart, weighing down on his shoulders. All he wanted was to scream, and scream. He wants to know. Why.  He tries, tries so badly to hate his brother. Uchihas love deeply, fiercely. In a way that is like no other. Deep to the bone and staining the soul. He tries to find the will to hate his brother, and force it to intensify, but it doesn’t work. He loves. He protects. He can’t hate his brother, even if he tried. He tried, he promised, he tried until he cried tears, until his Sharingan whirled widely in front of him. Until his scent spiked and his chakra thrashed, until he passed out.  A silver-haired man kneels over him, shaking him. Worried lone, black eye stares at him, mask covering his face. The scent of dogs, puppies? cover the man, with the ashy charcoal undertones. He stares back blearily, exhaustion marring his bones, making them heavy as lead. His Sharingan involuntarily activates, chakra pathways protesting as he scrambles back, panicking about his scent uncovered. The jounin coos, before his scent intensifies, covering him. Alpha. Sasuke frowns, dazed, aching, unmoving on Kakashi’s arm.  One thought crossed Sasuke’s mind when he sees the eye underneath the hitai-ate. Not traitor. Kin. Pack. Family.  Kakashi takes one look, before hugging the boy close, he will not lose another Uchiha in his life. They both lost their packs? They’ll be their own pack. Without others judging them.  Kakashi adopts Sasuke. It might’ve been an impulse decision, or maybe he’s poisoned. He didn’t know why, but he wants. For once, he wants. He wants to keep a kid from being alone. Wants the boy to have someone when he needed it. Wants the boy to not burden his clan’s death. Wants the boy to be protected from the village elder’s greedy hands. To keep, the boy from being a weapon. So he doesn’t turn to be like Kakashi.  Gai laughs, relief flooding him to see Kakashi dropping off Sasuke on the Academy, with a lazy half-salute and eye-smile before body flickering away. The Uchiha scowls, before pocketing his hands, and strolling lazily to the doors. Same dry humor, posture and antics. Sasuke has lightning affinity, similar to Kakashi, to his amusement. Lee hops brightly beside him, before the kid runs to Sasuke, declaring becoming ‘eternal rivals’. Sasuke’s jaw dropped, and wide, panicked eyes is too amusing for the people around them, the stoic Uchiha for once a loss of words, and startled.  ‘A shinobi looks underneath the underneath.’ Kakashi-nii— sensei tells them, lone dark eye calculating as he looks to the three genin in front of him. Underneath the underneath. Just what are you hiding, nii-san?  Sasuke groans, hand moving to rub at the sore muscles of his arms, the prickling wounds around his chest and arms burning. Sakura is gentle in healing the pierced skin, nerve endings on fire from the onslaught of senbon. He breathes a sigh of relief when he touches the scent blocker still secure on his gland, wearing the high collar shirt back on after the bandages. He winces at the fabric grazing the sensitive skin, before his nose wrinkles at the overwhelming scent of citrus and brown sugar attacking his nostrils. Loud, worried voice shouting ‘Teme.’ echoes through the clearing, making him raise his hand in assurance. Sakura’s faint cherry blossom scent wafts to his sensitive nose, her chakra muted as she lay on the ground motionless, Naruto’s prone from by the tree fraying his senses. Adrenaline courses through his body as he stands on wobbly legs, tongue bitten enough to draw blood. His gland itches at the blocker tight on his neck, as he moves his limbs to carry Sakura. He lets his strength appear, as he hops down silently to the ground, finding a cave to lay Sakura securely. He hisses through his teeth as he buckles to the ground, pain lancing his shoulder. He moves, willing himself not to stall as he crawls to Naruto, carrying him over his back. He sits cross-legged by the entrance, weaving a genjustu over them as he stays up for watch.  ‘You have a curse seal, and extremely chakra exhausted.’ Shikamaru observes as they break the genjustu, Ino scurrying over to Sakura. ‘What’re you doing risking your life like that?’ he hisses in worry, the Uchiha pale as a sheet, limbs shaking. ‘What happened?’ he asks, as he holds Sasuke’s face in place, forcing him to look directly on his eyes. ‘Orochimaru. Messed Naruto’s seal. Bit me. Had to protect. Pack. Been 5 hours since. On guard in case.’ Sasuke croaks weakly, before passing out. Sasuke tries to awkwardly become closer to Naruto and Sakura, even if he’s hesitant in touching. Sakura rolls her eyes before hugging him on the front, Naruto jumping on his back to circle around his shoulders, with Kakashi’s hand ruffling his hair. He will protect his pack. He will not leave them.  He became a chunin, and an ANBU with Kakashi as his captain. Moved through the ranks quickly, eventually turning to a jounin in couple months’ time. Naruto and Sakura became apprentices of the sannins, having them as mentors, which they tease him about. He huffs, before smirking smugly, ‘Who’s the jounin here exactly?’ which gains him disappointed pouts, a beta and omega ignoring him. They offer him more physical touches, Sakura linking their arms, or Naruto letting Sasuke have an arm around his shoulders. ‘Touch-starved bastard’. Kakashi making sure that he has control on where Sasuke is going to, knowing that his genius/prodigy status will lead him to dangerous situations. Added to the alpha secondary gender? no. He and Shisui already suffered, alongside Itachi on the village’s bad decisions. He will not let Sasuke become a bad decision nor a mistake. They will prove themselves worthy. Tsunade giving him a mission to go undercover for 3 years, striking a deal with Orochimaru. He does it without questions, knowing that Orochimaru needs to be killed, and he would gladly do so. He goes through day by day, sitting through experiments with the intent to kill Orochimaru at the end. Desperation clawed at Orochimaru, having a test subject that is an Uchiha, one of the last ones to exist, an alpha nonetheless.  Sasuke made a promise, to never use alpha voice, unless necessary. He doesn’t see the need to use it, since it only ruins Izuna’s name, being a descendant. He doesn’t want to taint their line, doesn’t want to be seen as his great grandfather, Madara. A rare thing, deep growling as his eyes turn cobalt blue, that makes his instincts go haywire and his movements shaky. A ability that he resents, because he never wants to see gold-eyed omegas and emerald eyes reflecting back to him.  So he doesn’t use it against betas or omegas. He uses it against alphas who dare hurt them, using his alpha voice to push alphas back from his pack. Aggressive and relentless, when alphas try to control his pack, dusty burning cedar reeking his hunched form, chakra venomous and crackling, burning like a thousand embers, his Uchiha blood reflecting his rage. Sasuke can be seen sitting down beside Shisui after he uses his alpha voice, hint of alpha pheromones still oozing from his form. (Sasuke and Shikamaru. Please. Sasuke knowing that Shikamaru is fully capable and independent. That doesn’t stop him from pampering or spoiling him. He keeps his protective nature from interfering but they both know that Shikamaru likes it even if he doesn’t wanna admit it.) Iruka adopted Naruto. 

[harlot-of-oblivion]

Prowling For Pleasure

You treat Vergil to a night of indulgent luxury and forbidden pleasures.

Rated Explicit for: Dubcon, Vampiric Manipulation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Femdom, and the usual Vampire Activities. 

Part Two: Decadence & Depravity 

Tonight is the night of your promised hunt, and you can honestly say that you’ve never felt this excited in all your undead life! Everything is almost ready for your date…all you need to do is finish getting dressed, which is easier said than done with the ever-growing knot in the pit of your stomach. You’ve grown accustomed to spending your solitude with only a few trusted confidants, but the thought of stepping out for a night on the town with Vergil is exhilarating!

You can’t stand all the pent-up nervousness and excitement raging inside you any longer. Your eyes dart over to a black velvet bag sitting on a nearby shelf as you apply the finishing touches to your makeup. You reach over and grab it before taking out a deck of tarot cards at Vergil’s desk. Their musty scent wafts through the air as you shuffle the cards a few times, envisioning your question before splitting the deck into three smaller stacks. Then, you gather them all back up in a different order and spread the top four cards out on the desk in the form of a cross.

Time to see how our date will play out.

You turn over the first card to reveal the image of a nude woman pouring two vessels of water, one over land and the other into a calm river. Your lips curve into a fond smile at the familiar card, The Star, which has popped up in a lot of your readings ever since Vergil started calling you by the sweet endearment. So, it makes sense why this card represents you and your feelings in the matter at hand: you hope to grow even closer with your fierce fella after tonight.

Your brow quirks at the next card in the spread, which depicts a man in full armor riding atop a valiant steed with a large wand. Huh…how curious, you muse, tilting your head at the Knight of Wands as you ponder its meaning. It usually denotes a popular person prone to grand gestures crossing your way…this person may also be full of themselves and impetuous, leading them to make rushed and foolish decisions. You’re not exactly sure what this means for your date tonight, but you get the feeling that it won’t be favorable.  

The next card has you blinking a couple times before leaning in just to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. But the scene of three young women dancing in a circle with their golden chalices held high in a joyful toast remains the same. Curiouser and curiouser, you thought while tapping your nails on the desk, wondering if the proposed outcome of success is too good to be true. Drawing the Three of Cups is all around a good omen though, so you press onto the very last card of the spread.

A shiver runs up your spine at the sight of a man and a woman embracing each other in paradise. The consequences of tonight’s date will lead to what you’ve always wanted in your previous life…and what you desire now more than ever despite your cursed existence. Now I know it’s too good to be true, you consider sullenly, warning yourself to not get your hopes up as you begin clearing the desk. But a peculiar notion pops into your head when you touch The Lovers card again; it doesn’t seem like your usual stray thoughts at all…it feels like a sudden prediction of moments yet come…    

Two souls shall converge in a moment of destiny.

“I didn’t take you for a fortune teller.”

Your head whips around at the sound of your lover’s voice. His soft lips curl into a smirk as you check out his delectable attire for tonight. The paisley pattern of the midnight blue jacket looks absolutely regal buttoned around his waist. A black and blue handkerchief pokes out of his jacket’s pocket, bringing your attention to the silky black lapels framing his broad chest. The matching black dress shirt and pants starkly contrasts with his silvery white hair while the Yamato hanging on his hip completes his elegant wardrobe.

“I don’t dabble in tarot much,” you explain while storing the cards back inside the small velvet bag. “But I thought a little insight might help us with our date tonight,” you admit, softly nipping your lower lip with a single fang as you get up from his desk.

Vergil hums in understanding as you stow the bag back on the appropriate shelf. “And where, exactly, shall this date take place?” he inquires, slicking back his perfectly styled hair while watching you with a curious gleam in his eyes.

Your hands become a blur as you quickly wrap your hair into a low bun before pinning it in place. “There’s this posh jazz lounge downtown,” you reveal while grabbing a starry headpiece with two chain swags. “It has an excellent bar, great music…” you pause for a moment as you carefully stick the headpiece right above your bun. “And some private sitting rooms for exclusive members,” you finish, clipping the two chains on either side of your head.

Vergil tilts his head. “Sounds like you’ve hunted there before.”

You chortle at his keen deduction as you swiftly fasten an elaborate shoulder necklace around your neck. “It was my usual haunt on those nights whenever I needed a break from blood packs,” you recall with an impish smirk while adjusting the hanging strings of pearls on your arms. “But I haven’t had to go back since you feed me so well, my love,” you point out with a playful purr before showing off your strapless black dress.

The sparkling diamonds and iridescent pearls twinkle like stars as you spin around with a slow and sensual twirl. His husky growl sends pleasant tingles below your belly as the skirt flares out, revealing your bare legs and black stiletto heels. You run a finger down your cleavage with a flirty grin, relishing the spark of desire in his silver blue eyes as your knee pokes out of the scandalously long slit of your dress.

“Well?” you prompt with a pleased smile. “What do you think?”

Vergil slowly stalks over to you. “Now I know why mortals can’t stay away when you’re on the prowl,” he softly declares while taking your hand. “You’re irresistible…” he trails off, turning your hand so that he may place a gentle kiss upon your wrist. “And utterly magnificent,” he murmurs with a reverent smile as he tips your chin up into his amorous kiss.    

You grasp the lapels of his jacket as both of your lips slowly smack against each other for a moment before withdrawing with delighted hums. He offers his arm and you gladly accept by wrapping both of your hands around his elbow. His wicked smirk stirs that ever-present hunger deep inside you as he leads you out of his room, effectively distracting you from sharing one more crucial detail of the date.

“There’s one last thing I’d like to do before we leave,” you reveal nervously as both of you descend the stairs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this with anyone but…”

Vergil looks down at you inquisitively as you close your eyes and focus on reaching out with your mind. His eyes widen in shock as your quiet thoughts brush against his consciousness. “It’ll help us keep track of each other tonight,” you reassure, patiently waiting for him to let down his guard. You can feel him contemplating for a few moments before your mind is suddenly flooded with another presence. It feels familiar and little apprehensive, so you decide to test the connection with a simple thought.

Can you hear me, my love?  

Vergil stares at your unmoving lips in wonder as your words pass through his mind. Then, he gives you an affectionate smile while his response slips past your barrier.        

You continue to surprise me, my Evening Star.

“Shall we?” he asks aloud while opening the door.

Your soft giggle fills his mind as both of you leave the shop. He slashes open a portal with the Yamato and takes your arm before leading you to the other side. Then, you explain your powers and abilities in more detail as you both walk through the more upscale part of the city towards your destination. It doesn’t take long for both of you to arrive at The Nightingale, a high-end jazz lounge and your hunting ground for the night.

Vergil asks if a reservation is needed to enjoy this swanky club as you approach the entrance. You nod and admit that you’re not on the list but that can be rectified with just a few words. He quirks his brow at you as he opens the door, letting you enter first before following right behind you.

A young lady greets you in the entryway. “Hi! Welcome to The Nightingale! Your name, please?” she inquires with a friendly smile.

You give her some random name and as she looks down to check the list, you let a tiny bit of the magnetizing presence hidden within you slip out. “Hmm…I don’t see you…” she trails off with a soft gasp as her head snaps up to meet your gaze. “Gosh, you’re so pretty,” she admits with a dreamy sigh before blinking with surprise. “Oh! I’m so sorry, miss! I dunno what’s gotten into me,” she hastily apologizes with a shake of her head.

“Think nothing of it, darling,” you reassure with a tilt of your head as you stare into her awestruck eyes.

Your vampiric charm pulls her in deeper as you delve into her mind, sifting through a few recent memories before reshaping one for your intended purpose. “Perhaps you should check the list again,” you kindly suggest while receding from her mind. “We don’t want any trouble over a simple misunderstanding,” you add with a patient smirk as you glance over at Vergil, who looks just as confused and fascinated as the hostess.

“Yes, of course,” she replies before checking the list again. “Oh! There you are!” she exclaims while marking the exact name she now remembers you saying to begin with. “Must’ve misheard you…so sorry about that!” she apologizes again with a sheepish grin as she points down a nearby hall with huge double doors. You thank her with a smile before heading in that direction, silently amused at her quiet muttering about making a fool of herself in front of a beautiful stranger.

Vergil observes you from the corner of his eye before speaking softly. “It all makes sense now…how you’re so good at gathering information,” he muses with an amazed smirk as both of you come to a halt in the hallway.

“Oh, that’s nothing compared to what I’m about to do, my love,” you boast, noting the two doormen just outside the main venue as you stare up at him with a smug smile. His arms wrap around you as he chuckles at your boldness, bringing you in close to bestow a soft kiss above your brow.

“Happy hunting, my dear.”

And with that, he teleports away in a blink of an eye, leaving you to deal with the spooked doormen. Damnable devil, you thought while rolling your eyes with an annoyed huff. But you’re able to calm them down easily by assuming a peaceful aura within your vampiric presence. They both go back to their positions by the double doors and swing them open as you approach the loud and lively venue.

The smooth sounds of jazz along with the excited chatter of the crowd brings back memories of a past long forgotten. You pause just outside the door to capture this moment before a magnificent storm while nostalgia sweeps you away to a bygone age. Then, you slowly release the full majesty of your presence, letting it unfurl like a blooming flower as you stride into the main floor with your head held high.

All eyes are instantly upon you as the entirety of the club notices your grand entrance. Even the music slows down as your presence hits the musicians, but they quickly recover and find the rhythm again. You can’t help but to smirk at their awed stares and gaping faces as you pass by multiple tables. Several waiters completely ignore their current customers to assist you with your every need. Your soft laughter makes all their hearts beat faster, stirring your hunger as you request a secluded table on the second floor. Their heavenly sighs fill the air when they behold your gracious smile before rushing off to do their task.

You search for Vergil with your mind as you head up to the second floor, questioning if he successfully made it inside the venue unnoticed. His impressed hum brushing against your consciousness lets you know that he’s not only there but close by. Your eyes dart from side to side as you wonder where he could be hiding…but the mystery of his whereabouts has you shivering with anticipation. The thrill of being watched from the shadows runs through you as you’re seated on a plush couch by a table with a fantastic view of the stage.  

That’s when your hunt truly begins.

Most of your kind usually like to roam around looking for their prey and play pretend as they chat up some gullible mortals. Then, they lure them to a private place where the ignorant human will experience the bliss of the Dark Kiss while their new acquaintance indulges in their blood. It’s typical of all vampires to hunt this way…but some predators wait for their prey to come to them.

And oh, do they come…like a swarm of moths to a dangerous flame.

Quite a few people approach you with various requests over the next hour. Some ask if they can join your table while others just want to buy you a drink. You accept some patrons at your table and refuse others, steadily surrounding yourself with potential prey while listening to excellent jazz. Your keen sense of hearing picks up their whispered conversation, learning a little about these mortals as you judge the potency of their blood. All of them show promise but their constant gawking and shallow compliments are boring you to death…again!

Your eyes begin to wander as the band starts playing a slow and smoky tune, totally changing the atmosphere of the club to something more intimate. And that’s when you spy a young woman standing by the bar, trying her hardest to not get caught staring as she peeks over at your table. How adorable, you muse while admiring her curves and pretty dress. You tilt your head with interest when her body quivers under your alluring gaze, which only whets your appetite even more…that is until the sudden appearance of a young man distracts her.

You manage to hold back the irritable growl crawling up your throat at this unfortunate interruption. But you continue to watch closely as they start talking, noting that they must know each other very well going by their friendly demeanor. The woman must have mentioned you since the man glances your way and his body instantly reacts much like his lady friend. Your brow quirks as they lean in close, sharing a few more hushed whispers before turning around to face you together.

Oh my…what an adventurous couple, you surmise, softly laughing to yourself as you dismiss your entourage with a mere flick of your hand. They all follow your silent command without question, leaving you alone with a couple bottles of unopened champagne. You pat the now empty couch with your hand as you lure them over with an inviting grin.

The daring couple immediately join you and introduce themselves while sitting on either side of you on the couch. You take one of the bottles of champagne and pop the cork, smiling at their eager faces as you kindly offer to pour them a drink. They each grab a glass and propose a toast about seizing opportunities for new experiences before taking a sip as you steer the conversation towards themselves.

It doesn’t take much cajoling to learn that they’re not only a couple but engaged, and you just so happen to catch them the night before their wedding! You ask why they’ve chosen to spend their time with you rather than enjoying each other’s company and they both give a vague answer…but curiosity gets the better of you. So, you simply urge them to be honest with your captivating presence, holding them even tighter within your seductive sway as they spill all their dirty little secrets.  

Oh, this is just too delicious! you gush when they reveal one in particular fantasy about having a threesome with a gorgeous stranger. You lean in real close to each of them and whisper your own craving for something new and exciting, tempting both of them with the promise of exquisite pleasure as you nibble on their ear. Your hunger intertwines with lust as you eye both of their necks, reveling in the aroused blood running through their veins.

You’re absolutely ravenous by the time they finish off one bottle of champagne, and you dare say that your venturesome couple is ready for more…but the sudden announcement of a song request draws your attention. You look down at the stage to see the bandleader pointing up in your direction.

“This next song is for the star up above.”

The band begins playing some mediocre number that barely manages to be tolerable. Your brow furrows at the awful request while your lovely couple remains totally oblivious to your confusion. The insidious whispers of paranoia invade your thoughts, but you push them aside as you mentally reach out to Vergil.

Did you…?

His reply is swift with a hint of cold anger.

No. It was him.

You scan the room and instantly spot the man that has provoked the ire of your fierce fella. It’s not hard to pick him out with that shameless leer on his face as he struts towards you. As he gets closer, you feel this distinctive shift in the air around him while the potency of his blood sets you on edge. You can sense his influence seeping through the mortals around him, bending their will in a show of dominance as he finally makes it to your table.  

There’s no mistaking it.

You’re in the presence of another vampire.  

“Hey there, sugar,” he greets, making your skin crawl as his lips curve into an oily smile. “Mind if I join you?”

You give him a quick once over before looking back up with an unimpressed frown. “Would if I could but I’m quite busy at the moment,” you decline coolly, wrapping an arm around the woman as you tousle the man’s hair.

“Aww, c’mon now…can’t a couple of night owls share a drink?” he persists as his eyes flicker over your adventurous couple.

Your eyes squint into an icy glare. “Go get your own and leave me be.”

The meddling mosquito laughs in your face. “Listen, I don’t appreciate you moving in on my turf without the proper courtesy that’s expected of one so young,” he discloses while that oily smile turns more sinister with every word. “But I’m willing to put this lil’ transgression behind us.”

You roll your eyes as he moves in closer, encroaching on your personal space while staring you down. His lecherous gaze makes your blood boil as a foreign presence slams against consciousness. “All you have to do is-” he abruptly gets cut off as his eyes meet with your furious stare.

KNEEL!

Your harsh command assaults his mind with overwhelming force. His knees buckle under the weight of your superior power as he falls to the ground. He looks back up at you in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide as he begins to grovel at your feet. “I’m deeply sorry, mistress…I didn’t realize-”

SILENCE!

The pathetic little tick instantly shuts his gaping mouth. “I know for a fact this is not your turf,” you reveal, slowly raising his chin up with your foot before shoving the tip of your stiletto heel between his lips. “In fact, no one has claim over this place…until tonight.”

His eyes widen in terror as you pierce his filthy damned soul with your scornful gaze. You mentally nudge the young woman beside you to grab the bottle of champagne off of the table. She complies and pops the cork before handing it over with a sweet smile, not even acknowledging the cowering vampire kneeling before you.

“It’s all mine now.”  

Your overpowering dominance keeps him from standing up or speaking out as you pour every last drop of champagne atop of his head. An amused chuckle flits through your mind as the sparkling bubbly dribbles down his mortified face. You wedge the tip of your heel deeper between his teeth, letting the slope of your foot guide a good amount of champagne into his mouth. He gags and tries to spit it out, but you command him to swallow every fizzy drop, knowing that he’ll have to suffer through the unpleasant process of purging it from his body once you’re done with him.  

You order him to clean your foot as soon as the champagne stops flowing, carefully instructing him to only lick the bottom since your stiletto heels are way too expensive for his vile tongue. Your lips curl into a cruel smirk as he laps up all the dirt and grime with a disgusted frown on his face. You take pleasure in his humiliation while handing the empty bottle over to the young man sitting calmly beside you. And when you tire of his submissive cleaning, you decide to give this worthless tick one last word of warning before setting him free.

“I highly suggest you never darken my domain again,” you threaten while molding his will like wet clay, “unless you want to suffer a fate worse than Final Death.”

And with that final command, you release him with a dismissive wave of your hand. He quickly stands up and tries to speak, but something behind you catches him off guard. You see a flicker of blue reflect in his horrified eyes, visibly shaking with unbridled fear as he slowly backs away before making a hasty departure.

You follow his speedy retreat until he’s no longer in sight. “Now, where were we?” you murmur while cupping the lady’s cheek as your foot rubs up and down the young man’s leg. “Ah yes…I remember now.” Your hungry gaze flickers between your adventurous couple before looking at one of the private sitting rooms. Their bodies shiver in delight as you finally close in on your prey with one final question:

“Care to join me somewhere more private?”      

🌹🦇🌹 (Vergil’s POV) 🌹🦇🌹

Vergil knew he was in for an intriguing experience when he agreed to this lascivious date. So far, it’s played out exactly as he expected: you’ve ensnared everyone in the club with your enthralling presence and caught some prey within your alluring web. The detestable appearance of another vampire nearly made him come out of hiding to cut him down. But he stayed his hand and watched as his Evening Star bent the miscreant to her will before ordering him to leave immediately.

Remarkable, he muses, impatiently wringing the collar of his dress shirt while intense yearning flushes through his body. His keen ears pick up your sensual whisper as you ask the enamored young couple to follow you somewhere else. They nod their heads eagerly before wrapping themselves around each of your arms. He hears your voice ringing through his mind like a delicate breeze as you stand up and glance at a vacant room guarded by a doorman.

Better hurry, my love…the show’s about to begin.

Vergil smirks at your playful tone as you glide across the floor with refined grace. He follows close behind, trying his best to remain unseen while waiting for an opening to sneak into the room. Your captivating gaze falls upon the doorman, staring at him with intense focus while muttering under your breath. His eyes glaze over as he stands stock still for a few seconds before snapping out his momentary daze. Then, the doorman smiles politely at your approach and opens the door for you, giving Vergil the opportunity to slink in after you when he walks away.

He quietly shuts the door behind him and creeps among the shadows of the room, checking for any sign of the couple being aware of an uninvited guest. But you have them wrapped around your finger, completely infatuated and fawning over your every move as you lead them to a large couch in the corner. He leans against the opposite wall as you guide the woman to sit down and halt the young man from following suit by gently placing your hand on his chest.        

“Ladies first.”

The young man shivers and nods his head in understanding. He moves to stand by the young woman while you sit beside her, giving Vergil a perfect view as the climax of your hunt begins. You cup her face and bring her in close, only stopping a hair’s breadth from her lips as your hands slide down her neck. She whimpers and tries to lean in for a kiss, but you gently push her to lie down on the couch and continue to caress the curves of her body.

Vergil remains motionless as you lift the young woman’s dress up, spreading her legs to reveal her soaking wet panties. His cock twitches as you settle between her thighs, nipping at her skin while moving lower and lower…then, the woman gasps and her face contorts in pain for only a second before slacking in pleasure as your fangs sink into the prominent vein near her clothed sex.    

“Holy shit,” the young man grunts, palming his bulging crotch as he watches you partake of his lover.

Vergil finds himself mirroring the action, cupping his aching cock while taking in every detail of this depraved moment. The euphoric moans of the young woman as she writhes in pleasure on the couch has him itching to loosen his pants. But he resists the urge to touch himself and just continues to witness the power his Evening Star welds over these mortals.

You withdraw from the woman after drinking a couple more mouthfuls and pin the young man down with your lustful gaze. His eyes widen as you smack your red lips, letting out a pleased hum while drops of blood dribble down your chin. “What the fuck?!” he gasps with realization as you bend down and close the wounds on his lover’s thigh with a swipe of your tongue.

Vergil senses his fear and summons the Yamato at the ready for a quick getaway if needed. But you simply rush over to him in a mere second and place a single finger on his trembling lips. “Shh,” you coo, staring deeply into his eyes as you ease him to a state of total relaxation. His lips curve into a dopey smile as you circle around and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” you whisper while staring down at the blissed-out woman still laying on the couch.

“Y-yes!” he gasps as your fangs graze his ear. “I love her so much,” he tacks on with genuine fondness, making your lips quirk into an amused smirk while prompting him to look at you once more.

“Be a good boy and feed your mistress.”

The young man turns around and bares his neck for you. He seems to melt in your embrace as you scrape your fangs against the pulsating vein. You peer over his shoulder before biting down, seemingly staring right where Vergil is standing in shadows. The young man grunts in pain as your fangs sink into his flesh, but then he moans as his body quakes in pleasure.

Vergil’s grip on the Yamato tightens as his other hand moves on its own accord, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants while you enjoy your second drink of the night. He quietly hisses as his cock springs free from its tight confines, already engorged and weeping white droplets at the tip. His blatant gaze never wavers from your mesmerizing stare as he finally succumbs to his deepest desire and begins pleasuring himself. He grits his teeth with every pump of his hand, consciously holding back any grunts and growls that try to escape his throat. The intense yearning from earlier overtakes his mind, hardening his cock even more with the thought of you handling mortals like mere playthings.

After a few more moments of silently watching each other, you release the young man’s neck with a pleased hiss. Your tongue closes his wounds with a quick lick before relinquishing him from your grasp. You softly gasp and cover your delighted smirk with a dainty hand as you examine the huge wet spot on the front of his pants.

“Looks like somebody got too excited!” you playfully note while directing him to sit next to his lover on the couch. “But that’s alright,” you sigh as the young man just smiles happily, totally oblivious to coming undone by your sensual bite alone. “I know exactly what you need for round two,” you divulge with a wicked gleam in your eye as you take a seat between them.

Vergil pauses at your mysterious words and quirks his eyebrow when you prick your middle finger with one of your fangs. “Both of you have pleased your mistress greatly,” you gush while holding your hand over to the young woman. “So as a reward…” you murmur as a few droplets of your blood drips between her parted lips.

The young woman lets out an ecstatic cry as your thick and redolent nectar touches her tongue. You let her suckle on your finger for a moment before giving the young man his fair share of his prize. He also cries out at the taste of your blood, eagerly lapping every drop off your finger. The front of his pants grow tight with his reinvigorated arousal while his lover rubs her cunt through her drenched panties.

You get up from the couch and stare at the hedonistic couple with a satisfied smile. “I suggest you fuck each other hard and rough,” you coax with a provocative purr. “Oh! And one more thing,” you quickly add while cupping both of their enraptured faces. “After you both come…” you trail off as they meet your entrancing gaze, remaining still and silent until he hears you whispering your final command.

FORGET.

Vergil sees the light in their eyes glaze over as you slowly retreat from the couch. He swiftly puts his cock away and waits until you’re close enough to pounce on you. His arm encircles your waist before dragging you back into the shadows.  

“You shine so brightly, my Evening Star,” he whispers fondly, earning a quiet giggle and soft whimper from you as he nibbles your ear.

Your head tilts to the side as you look up at him from the corner of your eye. “Enjoy the show, my love?” you inquire with a naughty grin while grinding against his crotch.  

“Immensely.”

“Mmm…I’ll say!” you quietly exclaim with glee while eyeing his straining cock.

You suddenly become a blur of motion before his eyes, completely taking him off guard as he leans back against the wall. His head snaps down to see his pants by his knees and you licking the underside of his cock, pulling a surprised grunt from him while the sound of passionate sex fills the air. You gesture with your head towards the swooning couple, subtly prodding him to watch as they fulfill your request.

Vergil beholds the scene of pure debauchery just a few feet in front of him: torn clothes strewn across the floor surround the couple vigorously making love on the couch. He focuses on the lady bouncing up and down in the young man’s lap, admiring her swaying breasts as she struggles to keep up with her lover’s fast pace. His curious gaze lingers down to where they’re connected, so wet and slippery as they slap against each other over and over. He feels your mouth sink all the way down his cock as both of their cries of shared ecstasy stoke the flames of his desire.  

You waste no time with your usual teasing and start sucking him off with the fervor of a wanton harlot, eagerly bobbing your head in time with the couple’s raunchy pace. Their litany of shameless moans drown out his approving growl as he cups the back of your head and thrusts his hips to meet every downstroke of your mouth. He can feel his cock growing more taut against your tongue while the tightening sensation of imminent release pools below his belly. The hand clenching the Yamato starts to shake as he pursues that blessed peak of pleasure, approaching fast and getting closer and closer and closer…  

The private room’s door abruptly bursts open, startling both him and the randy couple but not you in the slightest. A strange sensation swathes him with a spine-tingling chill as a doorman hurries inside and begins asking the couple to get dressed. Your lips curl into knowing smirk around his cock, still sucking with gusto as his heart begins to pound with the thrill of getting caught.

The doormen turns his head towards your hiding spot in the shadowy corner. Vergil takes the Yamato in both hands and presses its sheath against the back of your head, effectively barring you from making any more movement. But that doesn’t stop your tongue from lavishing his shaft…nor your hands from caressing his innermost thighs. He purses his lips and glares down at you in warning while attempting to remain silently composed.

You look up at his scowling face as your fangs elongate in defiance, grazing the silky skin around the base of his cock. The lone doorman comes closer, peering at the darkened corner as you stroke and squeeze his balls. The preserve thought of coming undone in front of a total stranger makes his pleasure soar sky high, climbing higher and higher until his impending release starts to curl and crest…and despite his best efforts to stubbornly resist, he comes crashing down with a restrained roar at the back of this throat.

Vergil watches as the doorman scratches his head in confusion, seemingly unaware of a devilish intruder emptying his load into your mouth. He doesn’t dare to move with the doorman standing so close, resigning to just enjoy the decadence of such carnal delights as the last tremors of his orgasm leaves him breathless. But the doorman eventually departs with the perplexed couple in tow, finally giving both of you respite from the utterly tense yet highly arousing situation. He glances down at you through half-lidded eyes, noting the white streaks of his seed leaking down your pretty chin with a gratified hum.    

Your lips curve into a pleased grin as you pull his spent cock out of your mouth. He knows that you can’t partake of his seed, but the thought of you spitting it out seems like a waste. So, he sweeps you up into his arms before you find a trash bin and captures your lips with a hungry kiss. You throw your arms around his neck as he pries your mouth open, softly moaning while thick white cum trickles down on his waiting tongue. He swings you around and presses your back against the wall, eagerly drinking every last drop before tearing away from your lush lips with a low growl.

“I have half a mind to punish you for your disobedience,” he scolds with an irritable snarl.    

“Even though you liked it?” you point out with an amused giggle. “You shouldn’t have let me taste you again if you really wanted to berate me for fulfilling your voyeuristic fantasies,” you point out while licking your lips with a satisfied hum. His brow twitches at your response but he doesn’t deny that he enjoyed the rush of adrenaline when the doorman unknowingly looked straight at him. You smile knowingly as he lowers you down to the ground with an indignant huff.

“And don’t worry, my love,” you coo softly as he makes himself presentable again. “I cloaked us both in the shadows of their mind, so we weren’t in any real danger of being caught.”

Vergil pauses as he remembers the strange sensation that overtook him when the doorman showed up. “You’ve failed to mention that you can extend that deceptive power to me,” he mutters with a suspicious squint while zipping up his pants and buckling his belt.

“It must’ve slipped my mind,” you note with a nonchalant shrug and cheeky grin.

A rumbling growl emanates from his throat as he crowds you against the wall with his looming height. “Such insolence will not go unpunished, my dear.”

You nip your lower lip with a single fang as his hand slides up along the slit of your dress before slipping between your legs. He softly growls while stroking you over the flimsy fabric of your panties, utterly pleased by slick essence of your sex dripping down his long fingers. You whimper as he shows off just how wet you are by bringing his hand up close to his face before licking a finger clean. Then, he presses another glistening finger against your lips, silently demanding you to open your mouth while gazing down at you with dark promise in his eyes. You hum indulgently while sucking his finger clean before titillating him with your brazen response to his enticing threat.          

“I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me, my love.”    

I’d like to thank @bettybattaglia for her galaxy brain idea of champagne guzzling and heel licking! And I gotta give a shout to all my fellow judgement sluts in the discord server for encouraging this filth! 😂🙈

Tagging: @drusoona @exsultry @tehrevving @varen-neoraven @shiranyaaww

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 23.1)

I KNOW MY EDIT SUCKED. HEH. That’s my book cover in Wattpad. Couldn’t post CHAPTER 23.2 there because the application is glitching and I’m annoyed af. Anyway, enjoy this chapter for WOTN. 

CHAPTER 23

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Maybe a witch isn't the key for your getaway because it could be deeper than that.

Warnings: The summary sucked. I couldn't write anything to avoid spoilers. LMAO. Curses. Tybalt and Geralt banter/hate for each other? 😂 Rohesia is my OC, not connected to any of the games or books. The witcher character named Gerd (AHA. I'VE INTENTIONALLY DID THIS. Surprised to see a stomach sickness used as a name lmao jk 😂) from the Bear school has been used. Bethleheigm is also a made up kingdom from moi. 😂 (Pronounced as Beth-le-haym)

Words: 4.3k

A/N: I know Kaer Morhen is located in Kaedwen. Damn it. I lately knew it when I was already half way through this fic and I can't change it anymore. Let's just say...oof. They'll eventually go there. Don't worry. Oop. Is it a spoiler? 😭

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! I apologize for errors!

Disclaimer: PNG's and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. (Credits to the rightful owners of the gifs, it’s written in the lower part of their gifs. Though, some don’t. Still, credits to them. If you want it to be removed, just kindly message me) The edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. This has no connection towards the books or games.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

DAY THREE CAME QUICKLY THAN WHAT WAS EXPECTED. Taking the shorter route to keep the proximity of hours easier for traveling back faster to Kaedwen. Geralt and Tybalt had an allayed journey towards the outskirts of Bethleheigm.

If a narrator was utterly dramatic, he or she could say that the witcher was beyond exhausted over being with the higher vampire because he only knew how to gall him over and over---a deathless cycle through out their travel, side by side with their own horses and vexation over each other. Yet, Geralt rarely has given him his energy for a battle that was pathetic as it ends.

They've both shared a night somehow. Their backs meters away from each other. With Geralt and his sarcasm never shutting one's eye until Tybalt was cursing him out under the moon light because the white wolf warned him not to think about hunting people to quench his thirst for blood. The higher vampire was left throwing him a pebble on his back and muttering how the full moon won't be until the day of the feast in the castle where he would technically celebrate over being a vampire but this choice could also be eradicated since blood was not in the highest scale in his pyramid law of needs.

Nights weren't the only thing shared between the two. Unbeknownst to them till Geralt was humming in displeasure, they've actually shared a drink of your home made ale. Tybalt commented how it was as good as Kaedwenian stout---perhaps, even better. Mentioning that the beer was probably made of your love for him which made the witcher scrunch his nose for how cheesy it sounded. Tybalt even declared numerical reasons as to why he kept you with him until today because you knew how to make his drunkard self swoon over your culinary skills.

Your cookery abilities were still different and utmost impressive than Geralt's regardless of how he has been used to embellishing his own food alone before. His midget's skills were technically amazing, add up the peculiar recipes that only you know---but, actually existed in earth---your earth. Those recipes that could get his family and him included, humming in deliciousness because it was new for their taste buds.

They were ought to arrive at the abandoned house today. Side by side, Tybalt and Geralt silently rode on their horses. Both of them fed up at the opposite of every presence that galled them to the brim. The witcher blurting out his opinions very frankly at the scowling vampire who was acting like he wasn't there along the hunt.

"You should've just stayed in the castle and played with your army stocks," Geralt grumbled as he held onto Roach's reigns. Tybalt's advancements for what he has done to you never leaving his memories when he clearly remembered the causes about why he was hating him more than to drown in a monster's stinking guts.

"I should've stabbed yer' horse while we were travelling---or feed off to er' horse blood," Tybalt clapped back, sending the remark in the nonchalant way as possible with a sarcastic raise of his brows.

"Leave Roach out of this,"

"Gods, yer' such a strange one, Witcha'!"

The witcher's scowl was as nasty as an Alghoul's bum. Tybalt seemed to be thoroughly embittered for even tagging along with a cold heart that was grudging to even join his hunt. If it weren't for the queen's request, he would never even be within Geralt's area of personal space. Howbeit, people have been trying to frustrate him even more with their sudden decisions erupting from either sides, like a dormant volcano that no one expects to explode.

Grey undertoned house. Ramshackled from the roof till the decaying roots of stones stuck in between their spaces. Close enough to be dilapidated if a wolf would've tried blowing the house down---though, the three little pigs weren't inside for it to hunt. They were closing in towards their destination, Geralt was anticipating this point of their journey; to immediately seek for the witch and to come back sooner than expected.

Yet, his anticipation burned in disappointment by the familiar look of the house rooted in front of them.

He'd heard stories about this abandoned home in Bethleheigm through drunk men in the Inns. They were having a tete-a-tete that it was a boobey trap made by homeless pirates who hadn't gotten back to shore, concealing the home as a place for them to steal one's belongings until they were ripped off their coins. Some tattled that the house was a dragon's nest where a woman lived in and disguised as one that Geralt knew entirely as a bullshit rumor because no dragons would dare pick to stay in the middle of a forest where the house was the only home built through out the map.

The witcher jumped off his horse, hushing Roach down with a soft caress to her mane because she'd begun to neigh.

Tybalt couldn't help but cackle from how he was affectionately eyeing the horse as if she was his other half, "---I wouldn't be surprised if ye' bring yer' horse with ye' while you bed yer' little woman!" he outlaughed and had a hand on his clothed stomach, shaking his head from the witcher's strange gestures with everything.

"Hmm."

Geralt gave him the side eye, endlessly shooting daggers since the moment they bonded together. His comment receiving a lour from the brooding white wolf because of the baldy judgement said.

"Yer' grumpier than usual---like ye' have been in a fight with yer' current flame---is it the tiny lass, anotha' one of your sorceresses or princess?" the Upir quipped with a smirk, hopping off his own horse before giving the house a look. He seemed to waver with a clear of his throat.

Geralt disregarded his ridicule and question with a blessed silence, his mood turning sour from even mentioning you. The weccan's golden eyes scanned all over the tumbledown house, his amber narrowing as he examined what was expected to be a necromage's hideout that he has heard from one of the drunk men's gossips in the inns.

"This abandoned house," he gruffly started beneath his baritone, harsh breathing as Geralt huffed for his disappointment over the founded location. The bind he had with you turning heavier as days go by like he knew you were turning into a melancholic person due to his faults. Hence, it was keeping him more insane than he can ever be because he always seem to offer only mistakes towards his people---where they end up getting hurt because of him.

Which wasn't new in his life.

"---There is no hag in here. Only a Necromage I presume."

Tybalt walked several steps to stop beside Geralt, shrugging his fur-coated shoulders with a curl of his upper lip, "I told ye' to take the longer route. Right path, Witcha'."

"And I told that you are bringing us both in an early demise because Golems and Downers are bound to get in our way,"

The higher vampire kept his mouth shut after that, his foot tapping on the ground before he received a subtle warning of Geralt's glare. The witcher was right about it. Basically, Tybalt was trying to stall over their journey because he knew what exactly was the stratagem kept for a clandestine truth bound never to be known.

Geralt pushed his peculiar fidgets away as it was still sounding so loud with his heightened hearing. He narrowed his eyes upon the engraved words carved inside the four corners of a mettalic flattened surface stuck on the grimy, stoned walls.

"Thou who shall take a step, requires a fee for entrance and something valuable to heart in order to talk with death,"

He silently read the words inside his head. Considering the requests before slightly pursing his lips, the ends looking like a frown but was actually just irrespective of what he was currently thinking. The ramshackle home being surrounded by an invisible strong force field shielded for not any normal man could trespass in without the rules asked. Another form of magic that he knew---though, this wasn't just any simple sign. It was created by sorceresses or wizards to safeguard the whole home for decades end, not risking anyone to touch whoever was inside, like it was keeping something from entering the place.

Geralt gave Tybalt a look while the vampire continued to whistle along the winds, his arms crossed in front of his chest whilst checking his awfully long nails, intentionally ignoring his companion until the witcher tried to grab onto a rock, strongly throwing the stone towards his head until Tybalt used his abnormal abilities, instantly dodging the stone coming forth and sprinting beside Geralt in just a second to see him nodding his head for his crackerjack skills that he seldomly uses.

"Coins." the white haired weccan roughly stated before he heard Tybalt huff and grumble from his demands, giving his palm to him and expecting for a bag of coins to be placed on his hands.

"You have your own, Witcher."

Geralt cocked his head to the side with a feigned smile, shaking his head, "My coins will remain untouched. I'm not risking mine for favors asked."

"Fuck you and yer' coins. I hope you feckin' go slow and die as soon as you're done with us,"

In the end, Tybalt eventually had to fish out a bag of crowns inside his coat, begrudgingly dropping them off on the witcher's awaiting palm who has shrugged his broad shoulders for his easy submission. The words to the engraved poster switching to dust, swirling through the air, changing into an arrow pointing at a brick where Geralt had to slightly touch for it to be pushed back.

Thorny, earthy tone colored vines snaked their way out of the hole. The brick of the old house never being seen as the roots formed a symbol of two palms sticking together like it was asking for alms. Geralt placed the coins on the makeshift hand, slowly slithering its way back to its home.

The house was alive. He was sure of that when he felt the aegis slowly fading away. Its stone doors cracking to slide open for them to enter.

Tybalt hasn't moved a step from his side. He returned to crossing his fairly muscled arms, hearing hasty pads of footsteps shuffling from behind as Geralt halfly turned to see a Hirrika panting on his side, yelping as a way of his bark towards the witcher who had his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and stupefaction; stunned to see the familiar beast who has impressively found him despite of his long travel.

"Kolby."

"Your whore's feral pet," The Upir deadpanned, chuckling nasally like a sarcasm.

Tybalt heard a low growl coming the monster, his fangs shown to the vampire who he could sense and remember, his scent awfully making him remember how he'd hurt his master.

"Watch it." Geralt gruffly mumbled, giving Tybalt the side-eye as he tried monotonely hushing the rare beast like how he'd seen you soothe his annoyance or anger whenever Jaskier irritates Kolby.

"Down, Kolby. No teeth." he gruffly scolded with a raise of his palm.

The Hirikka chattered like a cat as he glared at Geralt's temporary companion, spinning on his own place before howling, his snout tilted at the sky as he yowled, the sound making him wince from how loud it was---too sensitive for his heightened hearing. Though, that didn't stop him from judging his gestures, noticing how he was jumping in his own spot whilst doe eyes stared back.

"He's saying something," the white wolf frankly stated, exhaling a languid breath through his nose because he couldn't understand what he wanted, "---Stay here and don't touch Roach or my Hirikka." he mentioned for Tybalt who appeared to be mentally finding their whole interaction as comedic. Geralt took a step forth, subtly leaving a pat on Kolby's head that eventually calmed him down, making him skip his paws to the side.

The Hirikka jumped to sit on his short tail, his knees bent and close to his chest as he silently watched Tybalt and Geralt conversing together with snarls and insensitive jests until the witcher finally moved away from him, bravefully entering the threshold.

"Where ye' going?" Tybalt called out and made him cease his steps, promptly giving the growling Hirikka his heed to see Geralt judging with his slightly entertained peepers, fighting off the curl of his lips because of how his Hirikka was making the higher vampire uneasy. He was agile but lacked knowledge over the beastiality of the continent. Probably, because of how he has been confined in the castle in an early age and known more politics and schemes more than the lore of monsters.

"To ask the Necromage about that witch,"

"Just like that?"

"She might know her whereabouts. Stay here if you don't want to get your vampire nails grimy,"

Tybalt cocked his head to the side, effusive of cursing out the witcher who had a smirk as he turned his back away from him, continuing his path around and ignoring his cavils.

"Why am I even following ye' around, Mutant?"

Geralt of Rivia entered the perimeters. His newly sharpened swords latched on his wide, broad back. Every step had his chest heavier than usual; bred-in-the-bone like he knew there was something happening to you back in the castle that he couldn't decipher and it made him scowl. The energy in the house even adding more of that deep-seated feeling---the home being cursed as well like some sort of magic was ceasing his advancements from talking to this person living inside.

The place wasn't ruined after all. It was all charmed and just a mere visionary trap or distraction that won't let people fall for even staying close to whoever was inside. Clean and utterly fixed, furnitures sat on their proper rooms which held up a second floor that Geralt didn't plan on exploring for as a presence could be felt while he stood in the middle of the kitchen.

"Hmm. Necromage,"

This person was a woman, Geralt silently stated the obvious inside his head. Her voice was tremulous and surprised to see a gigantuan man standing in the middle of her kitchen which she has never seen before in all her life.

"I am no Necromage," Rohesia calmly informed him, her heed turning distant from the mention, "She...has already died. Cristabell, My lady of the rarest in Bethleheigm---the only necromancer in this kingdom. May her soul rest in peace,"

"---You're the witcher." she paused, taking a gander and examining the white wolf before her. White hair falling on the tips of his shoulder blades. Gold eyes. A scowl prominent on his face. This was the witcher she has been warned about from both parties.

Geralt attempted a cynical smile, seeing that she held more lies and have been doing so for a lifetime, "There's no use of lying."

She was feeble. As old as Eanraig in terms of physical appearance but not his actual age since he was a scholar of the forest. The witcher held onto his medallion, seeming to feel no vibrations over his necklace that he strongly felt before the doors have been opened. His white and black spotted eyebrows furrowed for what singularity was happening.

This was supposed to be the Necromage. Yet, why does she felt human who had no magic to offer?

The hoary, old woman was not lying after all.

Rohesia forced to give him a small smile, walking past him to sit on one of the wooden, dining chairs. Gesturing her palm outwards for Geralt to take a seat that he simply answered with silence as he stood rooted on his spot, assessing what she truly was.

"I offer you no lies of secrecy. My mouth speaks nothing but the truth for I am just a mortal who thrives to live peacefully in the continent," she honestly answered his curiosity and judgements which made him nod at her uprightness---making his job easier for him.

The woman really was no necromage at all.

"A mortal who stands for her virtues. Hmm."

"Why are you here, Witcher?"

His glower was permanent even as he sauntered to where she was, standing upright and leaning a hand on the top portion of her dining chairs whilst he patiently explained.

"To find the hag who has cursed prince Althalos of Kaedwen."

Rohesia only offered a small, genuine smile. Her shaky laugh erupting through her chest because she knew this was the man who her former witcher and lover give fair warning to when the Kaedweni started their murdering plots upon fellow weccans who fall for their crimes. Vesemir never wanted to be involved with their delinquencies, explains his periodic leave in the kingdom---his constant visits for the woman seldomly occurring since Nilfgaard has attacked and conquered another domain after Cintra.

"Are you doing this because Vesemir has told you so?"

Geralt went on with his speechless talk, low humming followed suit for the flabbergast he felt over hearing his senior mentor in the art of their kind. The end of his lips subtly turning the opposite of a lour, relieved to suddenly hear his name through another person's mouth---a woman he probably had a relationship with; a former flame and mortal that Geralt least expect for Vesemir to entertain because of the conducts he had told him prior into becoming one skilled witcher.

It is that being involved with mortals and even having a soft spot in the job won't make them any better.

"Does he visit often?"

She ignored his question with a simple, wholehearted feeble laugh. Her circumvent obvious that Rohesia wanted not to talk about Vesemir after he has chosen to leave her for coins and another woman---another mortal years ago, thinking that because she aged badly was one of the reasons why he chose something better than to be with her. Hence, they were even known to be monsters of their own kind. Monsters who slay other beasts in exchange for coins. It was what she believed them to be---yet, she knew to herself that if Vesemir would come back to her, she would still accept him with all her mortal heart.

She dryly coughed, avoiding his eyes and covering her mouth with a tightened fist that Geralt quickly knew she was physically sick just by the looks of it.

"If you...still want to live and take your coin, turn back around and forget that you have stumbled upon this place forever."

The latter shook his head. Determined to find answers from this elderly human who knew his mentor and a fatherly figure he had been to his life. He believed Rohesia knew more than just Vesemir based on how she was trying to push him away.

"Where's the hag?"

"You cannot find the witch anywhere even out in Kaedwen, Geralt."

He was impressed. Geralt raised both of his eyebrows, pursing his lips with a tilt of his head that she knew his name regardless of not introducing himself yet.

"Vesemir has obviously told you more about me,"

She ignored his statement again, grabbing onto the ends of her dirty Tunic as she stood, saying her words firmly and with finality. Never knowing if her decision over dropping out hints would be good for her isolation from everyone---isolation and somehow imprisoned inside a house. The necromage being her sentinel, a guard given orders that she wouldn't escape and try to spill secrets that will ruin such plans. Howbeit, she still had high respects for Cristabell who had been too kind for her that she has brought Rohesia with her whenever she was out for some business.

"The witch you have been finding has been around the castle for decades."

Perhaps, it was time for the truth to set out free because Rohesia knew she had only weeks to live in the continent. Revenge pushing her through the decision she wanted for trying to keep her contained, watching her every move; ruining more of her wrecked life.

"I have been the queen's loyal servant. After she has given birth to Prince Althalos, he has already been cursed when he was a bairn." Pause. "---Sorceress Ingrith has managed to sneak into their quarters and cast the curse by whispering such spell and gaining a tiny drop of his blood. I've all seen her cantrips and heard them as I came back to guard the prince in his sleep. The wail of an offspring shall bring despair for the royal family,"

The sorceress' name felt like a crime to be told. Heaviness in her chest finally unleashing after decades of being caught up with the lies she was telling people who asked or went to gather information as to who has cursed the prince; finding the witch and ending up dying from the hands of her womanly guard. Cristabell recently died from the hands of the last witcher who she knew as Gerd, the necromage dying after their battle whilst she tried to fight for her cousin's trangression---continuing doing so for the sake of her selfish reasons.

"---She...she was also the king's mistress before the queen has given birth to Prince Althalos while she also gained her position. I may never know if it was made from jealousy over the queen's position. Though, it is their life that I promised to stay away from. Only sorceress Ingrith may reverse the curse or happen to know how,"

A beat of silence wrapped them both after Rohesia's candor. Geralt's mouth forming a deeper scowl than ever as he loudly sighed, languidly blinking in weary for being tricked by the sorceress and her right hand, Tybalt of Touissant. His jaw began to clench for who stood outside of the house, the higher vampire making him mad for leading him on circles---the cycle wouldn't have ended if he chose to go forth with his suggested path. It was why he was trying to lead him towards a swamp filled with monsters than the shorter route because the truth was with this rumored woman.

"Should've known."

He deeply grumbled begrudgingly, blaming himself for not thinking it through. His time wasted for you to be saved and taken out of the palace. If only he wasn't as pale as Ivory, his face would've been empurpled with fury for what they've made him appear to be---an idiot or for whatever bullshit they can call him.

"You're coming with me..." Geralt deeply said before he was cut off to her introduction of name.

"The name's Rohesia, Witcher."

He nodded back to the lady, going on with his ceased sentence with solicit, "---Back to the castle,"

Rohesia saw him walk closer to her, face to face with the infamous butcher she has heard tales about. The butcher of Blaviken who has managed to slaughter goons of Princess Renfri's hooligans and also earning another moniker of being a butcher of Ard Carraigh. Kaedwen's capital. The name would eventually spread throughout his kind because of how Kaer Morhen was close by. Her eyes catching onto the badge latched on the rain-guard of his sword.

"I have been told to never step foot again or I shall be put into death,"

"Do I need to beg for your compliance and offer protection?"

"What's in it for you and me?"

The witcher deeply sighed, shifting his amber away from her as Geralt looked withdrawn, his next words sounding like a mumble, dubious of his own bluntness. Disbelieving that he could hear his own voice say the words like an echo of his consciousness.

"You get to save the castle from anguish," pause. "---and you get to save the life of someone dear to me,"

"A woman I assume---your woman," Rohesia sounded so surprised, staring him down in incredulity, "---Is she royal? another sorceress too? a mutant?"

"A mere...mortal," he hesitated to honestly say, his eyes filled with a memory he truly can't forget. Your skeptical voice stuck inside his head when he remembered the first time he met you till the moment you told him how you suited to be a queen.

Geralt clearly remembered his reaction and teasing reply. Telling you how you suited more to be called a midget. His midget. Yet, now you were being treated like his queen where he would kiss the ground you walk on no matter how in denial he gets.

"---Perhaps...a queen to her kingdom in her rightful dimension," he was caught in his train of thoughts, never seeing the stupefaction in Rohesia's eyes over what dimension he meant---having no clue for his words. She could see what Vesemir once was like until life has ruined everything for her, including the sorceress corrupting and controlling the people and castle of Kaedwen.

"Learning to love doesn't suit your kind, Witcher."

"It's because it isn't what you think it is."

Rohesia shook her head for his lies, he was thoroughly unaware of the feelings sipping through his words once he mentioned you. This witcher believed that he wasn't capable to love nor emit feelings just like how her previous lover have been. A typical characteristic of his own kind. Denial and the feeling of being unworthy of recognizing such emotion was making him sound insensitive. But, people who could read others can see through him regardless of how he tries not to, "Deny it all you want. To us humans, it is. Love as many people assume."

"---you're still human after all. As far as I believe for your kind, Geralt of Rivia. Sorceress Ingrith might be glad to see me again soon---I hope."

Don’t hesitate to message me if you don’t want to be included in the taglist anymore, bb’s. I won’t be mad. Thank you. 

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[moipale]

that bad luck will follow you til you die, y’know?

Written for Ectober Week 2020 Day 4: Darkness/Poison. It can be found crossposted on AO3 and FFN.

You can find me here or on my main @faedemon!

It’s a peculiar thing, what death makes. A ghost’s formation is a spinning wheel of attributes, and no one truly knows how many wedges there are, or where the peg will start or land, or the probability of any of it. Death is insidious—sometimes it will let you keep your identity. Sometimes it will let you keep your memory.

Sometimes.

Johnny 13 and Kitty are relatively well-known in their part of the Zone; they go around wreaking enough havoc to be as close to household names as the Ghost Zone can have, apart from Ancients like Clockwork. They’re known as a pair: that irritating, unhealthy couple that unceasingly chase after each other. Neither of them had been particularly faithful in life, always seeking out other people with which to make each other jealous. Johnny had never had good enough friends to tell him to stop. Kitty had never had good enough friends to tell her to walk away.

But what’s less well-known—even to Johnny and Kitty themselves, for death relieved them of their memories when they spun the wheel—is that, when Johnny 13 and Kitty died, they did not die alone.

They do not remember their name. Death took from Shadow their identity, and with it, a fair chunk of their memories. Shadow remembers this: they rode a dirt bike. They liked riding, and always wanted to graduate to a motorcycle, to be road-worthy. They never got the chance.

Johnny 13 and Kitty do not remember their deaths, but Shadow does. They always have.

The reaper came for Shadow in November, on a clear day with little wind and few people out. Perfect for riding. They had taken their bike to a track not far out of town, an unofficial one that had been carved out of the land, the Arizona desert, by other bikers that had come before them. They had enjoyed a few hours of reckless abandon, had fallen more than once. Shadow never minded falling; with the helmet and the knee and elbow pads they wore, it never really hurt.

When they were done, and Shadow was heading home for the night—it was evening now, quickly darkening—they took a glance at the road. Shadow usually just followed a walking path out of town to reach this place, but the main road leading to and from home was mere yards away, and it had always tempted them. They wanted to relish the feeling of real pavement under their tires. They wanted to be able to go fast, in a way that the gritty dirt never let them.

What’s the harm, Shadow thought absently. Stupidly. Just this once.

It was a clear night, you know, with little wind and few people out. Nobody was driving. There were no headlights for miles.

Shadow turned their bike onto the pavement and, just for kicks, gunned it straight down the center, right over the dotted line. Their bike did not have a headlight; it wasn’t road legal, after all.

The roar of the dirt bike on the pavement was loud, and so was the wind whipping by Shadow’s ears, and the helmet they wore muffled their hearing, and it had grown completely dark, and it was the Arizona desert and there were no streetlights, and there were no headlights, and—

Shadow died on impact. Johnny and Kitty had been taking a joyride outside of town, and more than a few miles back, Johnny turned off his headlight to scare Kitty. She had shrieked at first, dug her face into his back, but after she noticed how bright the stars were, she let him keep it off. Nobody was out, after all. There were no headlights for miles.

Kitty and Johnny lived. Kitty was badly banged up and broke her wrist and Johnny broke two ribs and got a concussion, but they lived. After collecting themselves, they walked up to Shadow’s body, where it lay, and Johnny cursed—something along the lines of I can’t get caught for something again, this’ll be the last straw, and Kitty blabbered, panicked—dead, oh god, Johnny, you killed—and Shadow was dead, yes.

Shadow was dead.

They reformed as a ghost there on the road, only a few hours later. There’s always been something a little off about the Arizona desert, and in death, Shadow will figure out why (the line between the Zone and the desert is thin).

By then, Kitty and Johnny had begun stumbling back home, Johnny having dragged his totaled motorcycle into the prickly roadside bushes, in the hopes no one would find it and recognize who caused the crash. They were a good half-hour out of town by car, though, and both of them were hurt. It did not take long for Shadow, a wisp of a thing, hardly there, to catch up with them, and, for the next few days, stay with them.

Shadow figured out fairly quickly how to make use of his new form. Their poltergeist powers, they affectionately dubbed the abilities, as they tickled wires and made lamps flicker. They graduated quickly from minor nuisances to genuine threats, like making bookshelves fall and cranes snap. Shadow relished in it, those first two days: the power, the mischief. No one had gotten seriously hurt by their hand.

And then the third day.

Johnny had bribed a local mechanic to take him and Kitty out into the desert to retrieve his bike and fix it up. By some miracle—or incompetence, or indifference, and the prospect of the latter still makes Shadow’s ectoplasm boil—the police hadn’t found it, and Johnny was able to pick it up with no problem. It wasn’t even that badly damaged: just scraped up, with maybe a few parts loose. Shadow’s dirt bike had never stood a chance.

Johnny had it fixed that very day. He took Kitty out on it that very night, like he hadn’t just killed a person three days ago. Like it hadn’t mattered at all.

Shadow would like to be able to say that it was purely an accident. That the two twenty-year-olds who had killed them were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that the minivan that T-boned them—as much as a full-size vehicle can T-bone a comparatively tiny motorcycle—did so by some other means than manipulation. That the driver was drunk, or tired, or something else plausible.

Really, they would like to be able to say that. For all that Shadow hated them, hated the people who had ended their life, they didn’t want to kill them.

But Shadow was young, and a young ghost doesn’t tend to think. They tickled the minivan driver’s nerves, steering her in just the right direction, pressing the gas down just enough to speed through that red light—

Johnny and Kitty died on impact.

(and neither of them remembered much from their lives, but they remembered they loved each other, and hated each other, just a bit. and johnny remembered he loved to ride and kitty remembered her charisma, and so when shadow slotted themself into their afterlife, emerging from johnny’s silhouette like they had always been there, neither of them questioned it too much.

shadow remembered enough from life to know regret. shadow remembered enough to know repentance, and this is why they come when johnny whistles, and go where johnny points.

and johnny earned the 13 in his name for the shadow that followed him. 13 years’ bad luck, were the whispers, if you crossed the man on the motorcycle. if you saw the eyes in his shadow.)

[heyitsani]

I Keep My Eyes Wide Open All the Time Chapter 1

Word Count: 3001

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major character death (eventually), Mentions of past rape/non-con (eventually)

Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne/Jon Kent (mentioned)

Summary: With the potion to restore his memories, Damian is given the choice. Remember or remain ignorant.

Notes: I decided to take the plunge and post the follow-up to When You Move I Move in a chapter story instead of just one massive piece.  It’ll be seven chapters total.  The first and last will be in present time, the five between will be the past.

If you have not read the other story, this one won’t really make much sense.  So you can read that here: WYMIM

You can also read it on AO3 here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The flight from Gotham to the small airport in the depths of the UK had been uneventful and Damian had welcomed the time to sort out his thoughts.  His father had reacted strangely when he had told the man he needed the jet to take him to where Richard and Todd were currently staying, at their request.  He had even gone as far as to call Richard and confirm that he had indeed called Damian and asked him to come.

Years had gone by and yet his father still had little trust in his word.  It was tiresome and he honestly didn’t know how to right it.

At least Richard believed him.

And Jon.  That was enough, he supposed.

But the flight over had allowed him to think of all the possible reasons as to why his presence was being requested above all the other members of the family.  And while he felt honored, he was still curious as to why.  Above all that, though, was the fact that after months of secrecy and awkward encounters between Richard and Father, Richard was finally going to reveal what it was Fate had shown him and Todd.

“We are about to land, Mr. Wayne.  Shall I take your refreshments?”  The attendant looked down at the tray that held a cup of tea and a few untouched crackers.  Nodding his acceptance, Damian thanked the man as he cleared everything up and headed to the employee area.  A glance out the window of the plane showed vast amounts of green.  Trees and fields as far as the eye could see.  It certainly was a pleasant country.

“We will be making our descent now, Mr. Wayne.  Please make sure your belt is fastened and your belongings secure,” the captain’s voice came over the speaker and Damian followed the instructions before he went back to looking out the window.

What was so special about this place?

He couldn’t see anything significant.  Even if something about it seemed almost familiar.

Shaking that train of thought away, he looked forward as the wheels hit the tarmac and the plane slowly came to a halt.

“Is there anything else we can do for you sir?  Your father told us to remain stationed until you were ready to return.”

Standing, Damian smoothed out the wrinkles in his slacks before grabbing his bag.  “No, I believe I have everything I need.  Thank you for the pleasant flight.  I will call the captain when I have an idea about a timeline,” he addressed the man, who gave him a smile and a nod.  “Do you both have accommodations?”

The man chuckled.  “Yes, sir.  We are taken care of.  Enjoy your time.”  Nodding, Damian slung the bag over his shoulder and made his way to the now open door that the stairs had been rolled up to.  Ducking out the doorway, he shielded his eyes and took in the surroundings carefully before he stepped out fully.  From his spot he could see a sleek black car with Todd leaning against it, arms crossed and sunglasses hiding his eyes.  Richard stood ahead of him, hands in his pockets and mouth moving as he spoke to the man behind him.

He knew he had been spotted the instant Richard’s hand was raised and flagging him over.  And Damian couldn’t stop the affectionate roll of his eyes as he made his way down the steps and toward the two men.

“Dami!”  Richard smiled brightly, openly.  No one smiled the way his older brother did.  No one who had lived through what he had still had the ability, yet this man never failed to do it.

“Richard,” Damian greeted, easily stepping into the waiting arms for the customary hug between them.  It had been an adjustment to him when he had first joined the family.  Physical affection was not the League way.  But it seemed to be Richard Grayson default setting.  And though it took time, eventually Damian had reached the point where he welcomed it.  Almost expected it, even.  “Todd,” he greeted the other man from over Richard’s shoulder.

“Gremlin,” Todd said back, affection clear despite the offensive name.  He watched the other man push off the car as Richard released him from the hug.  “Shall we?  Dickie ordered a whole spread to be sent to our room so you two could talk while I’m out running a few errands.”

Damian looked at Richard with a raised brow, but his older brother just smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulders even though Damian had passed him in height a few years prior.  So Damian didn’t question it and simply allowed himself to be led to the backseat of the car, seated between the two men.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He could see why Richard and Todd had picked this hotel the moment he entered their room and made his way to the balcony.  The view of the courtyard and the peaceful air about the entire place was enough of a selling point.  But the rustic, old world feel?  That only enhanced it.  Leaning against the railing, Damian let the two men talk quietly near the door without him listening in.  He knew Todd was leaving so he and Richard could talk about whatever this was about, so he could grant them the privacy in this moment.

“Dames, want something to drink?”

Looking back at his brother, he nodded and moved over to the chairs that the food and drinks had been set up by.  He accepted the glass of wine that Richard offered with a quirked brow.

“It’s legal here,” was the shrugged explanation he received.  So, he took a sip and sat down on one of the chairs as Richard did the same.  “Where should we start?”

Taking a moment to think about it, Damian examined the rich red liquid in his cup.  “Why am I here?  Of all the family, why me?”  He looked up to see Richard nodding and looking out into the distance.

“Jay and I are getting married tomorrow and we wanted you there.”  He almost dropped his glass at that revelation.  Not at the fact that they wanted him, of all people, to be there.  But the fact that they were getting married.

“But,” Damian blinked, trying to form a proper thought.  “You have only been seeing each other for six months now?  Or was this going on before the incident?”

Dick smiled over at him.  “We’ve been dancing this particular dance for many centuries, Little D.  That’s what Fate showed us.  He showed us lifetimes upon lifetimes of Jason and Richard or Dick and Jay.  Lifetimes of us being so close, yet so far.”

That was surprising.  Many centuries.  That was a lot of lifetimes.

“I have loved him for over a millennium, Dami, but we have never been allowed to be fully happy.  Duty, law, or prejudice, along with a curse, has kept us from truly belonging to each other,” Richard explained.  And Damian felt his heart clench at the thought of the two of them being close but never fully being able to give into their love.  He thought of him and Jon.  How he cared so deeply for the other man but feared what Father would think.  Feared how he would react should anything happen to Jon because of him.  But never had an outside force worked against the two of them.  He couldn’t imagine how that would feel.  “Now we can finally be together in the eyes of the law and I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“But me?  Why not Father?”

Richard smile turned a little sad and Damian watched as he set his cup down before turning to look at Damian fully.  “Because you were our son.  Because you were of my blood and Jason loved you as though you were of his.”  Dropping Richard’s gaze, Damian processed those words.  “You were my son with a woman who was not kind or good, in any of her lives.  She did some horrible things, but she also gave me you.  And that love, that affection, has always been yours.  Each and every lifetime, even though you are no longer my blood, you have always been mine.”

Except this one, the unspoken words hung heavy.

Looking back to his brother, Damian furrowed his brow.  The words made sense.  They fell in line with the emotions he often warred with.  The feeling as though Richard was more of a father than Bruce Wayne.  But blood did not lie.  And Damian had seen the analysis.  He was indeed a Wayne.  But since coming to Gotham, he had always felt more like a Grayson.

“I know you feel it,” Richard broke through his thoughts.  “I knew something was wrong the moment I met you in this lifetime, but I didn’t know what.  This is the only one where you have not been mine through some means.  And it has always felt so wrong.”

“That is why…the morning after, that is what Todd was referring to.”  Richard nodded and leaned back in his seat.  Damian watched him turn his eyes toward the balcony view, like he was seeing something only he could see.  “Richard?”

“Beyond my own feelings on the matter, I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to undermine Bruce any more than I already have over the years,” his brother admitted to him.  The sadness and the regret were heavy in his voice, and it made Damian hurt for him.  He had never known Richard had struggled with this for so long.  Sure, he had been aware of blurred lines when his father had “returned from the dead” and taken his place back in the family.  But he hadn’t known it was still on-going.  “I didn’t want you to struggle with the separation as I had been.”

He was surprised when Richard stood from his chair and sent Damian a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes before heading over to the small bedside table and opened a drawer.  He couldn’t see what it was the older man had taken out of the drawer, but he knew it was small since it was enclosed in his fist.  Instead of questioning, he simply waited for Richard to sit back down and set a small vial of vividly blue liquid on the small table between them.

“What is it?”  Damian questioned, keeping his eyes on the vial.

“Your memories,” Richard said softly.  That pulled Damian’s attention from the vial to Richard, confusion and curiosity warring in his head.  “The sorceress, we called her a healer back then, who planted the curse on Jason and me during our first lifetime together is immortal.  She approached me yesterday and gave me that.  She said it would open your mind to the previous lifetimes in the same way Fate had done for Jay and me.”

Green eyes darted back to the vial and Damian reached out to take it almost reverently into his palm.

“I still believe my concern is valid.  I do not want your relationship with Bruce to suffer because of this.  I do not want him to think I am laying claim to you through this,” Richard admitted but Damian kept his eyes on the vial that sat so innocently in his palm.  “But the decision is not mine to make.  If you want to remember, then you deserve to have that chance.”

Did he want to know?  While Richard and Todd seemed happy, he knew there were things that had etched a deep sadness in Richard when they had first encountered Fate.  He remembered the lines of pain around his eyes when the elder thought no one was watching.  The whispered conversations between him and Todd.  How Todd had held him in on random rooftops in Gotham and Richard’s shoulders could be seen quivering from the next rooftop where Damian had observed the pair.  He had wondered what could have upset his brother to the point where he would allow himself to fall apart where anyone could see him when he so rarely allowed himself to appear to be anything but strong and steadfast.

“You don’t have to decide right now, Dames,” Richard broke through his musings, drawing his gaze away from the vial yet again.  “Take however long you need to decide.  Whether you take it this instant or in a year or however long, you just need to be sure it is what you want.”

Damian took a few more moments to consider the liquid in the small vial before he tucked it into the inner breast pocket of his blazer.  “I do not know what I will do.  But I will consider your opinion on the matter when I decide.”  Richard nodded and leaned back in his chair, taking up his wine glass again.  “What does Todd think about it?”

“He thinks you should take it.  He thinks that you should know just as we do.”  Richard heaved a sigh and looked away from him.  “He thinks that the lines are already blurred beyond repair.”

That surprised Damian.  While he wouldn’t argue the point, he was surprised Todd had observed it.  But perhaps he shouldn’t be considering that Todd always seemed to be watching.  Since letting go of his vendetta against Batman, getting control of the Pit, he seemed more observant.  Maybe even more than any of the other family members, besides Cassandra.

“I do not believe his observation is wrong.”  Richard’s eyes widened and he sat up straight.  “Not in my regards, at least.  I will not speak for you on the matter.  Father is my blood, of course I respect him, but he never earned it.  But you…”  Damian paused, trying to think of the best way to put his feelings into words.  He had never had to do this, and he wasn’t quite sure words were enough.  “You fought for me.  You wanted me.  Even when I had tried to kill Drake and was horrible, you tried.  Father just expected.”

The words were heavy with implications, but Damian wasn’t sure they were the right words.

But then Richard’s hand was on his forearm and Damian was seeing the all too familiar look of love in the sapphire blue eyes.  And Damian knew it was enough.  His point had been made clear without him just coming out and saying it.

“I suppose this is only to be expected given the truths you have revealed to me, that were already revealed to you.”  Richard hummed and gave his arm a squeeze before releasing it and lifting his wine glass to his mouth.  “You know what I’m going to do, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Richard nodded, eyes slipping closed.  “Because it is who you are.  Even if you didn’t take the potion tonight, you would eventually do it.  I knew the instant I decided it wasn’t my choice to make that you would do it.”  Damian watched him sigh before looking back to him.  “You don’t remember it yet, but this isn’t the first time you have gone against what I think is best as far as what you know.”

Damian figured it probably wouldn’t be the last time either.  Not when Richard was always so intent on protecting him from what he felt he could protect him from.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slipping off the blazer, Damian laid it down on the bed before he pulled out the vial from the hidden pocket and moved over onto his own balcony.  The night air was crisp, but it was still warm enough to not be uncomfortable.  Despite his years in Gotham, he had never gotten used to the cold after his childhood in Nanda Parbat.  The heat was always much more to his liking.  But the current air was nice.  This was a temperature he could handle.

It also helped clear his head as he considered his options.

The potion would be taken, that much he knew.  But did he want to take it tonight and sleep on the memories or would it be better to wait until he was home in Gotham to do it?  Would it make it easier if Richard were there or would it only make things more difficult?  Richard had seemed so concerned about the strain it might cause between Father and son, but Damian heard what he would never say.  He was worried Father would find out and use it against him in some way.  Damian wasn’t a fool; he knew the kind of man his father was.  He knew the kinds of things he had done to each of his children over the years.  He knew how easy it would be for Richard to be pushed from the family.

But he also knew that if his father did that, Richard would take more than just Todd with him in the feud.

Looking down at the vial in his hand as he leaned his arms on the railing, he thought about what Todd had said to him when he had walked him to his room for the night.

“Don’t let Dick fool you into believing he doesn’t want you to know the truth.  He wants you to know.  But things with your dad and him will forever be complicated.  And Dick takes responsibility for much more than he should.”  Todd paused and looked at Damian, contemplative and pensive.  “Abandonment will always be his biggest fear.  It is why he treads so carefully these days.  He’s so worried he’ll lose Bruce again and then the rest of us as a result.”

It had been such a foolish thought for Richard to have though given the history between his father and Richard, he supposed the fear was well founded.  But Damian knew Richard would always have Todd and himself, which meant it was a risk Damian was willing to take for him.

So he twisted the top off the vial, raised it in a silent cheers and swallowed the liquid when it slipped into his mouth.

[demisexualemmaswan]

By the Moon’s Rise (1/???)

Rating: T

Summary: After being cast out from their pack by their father, both Killian Jones and his brother Liam were forced to start a new life in a new town. Killian Jones has no interest in making friends, but there might be a certain someone that might change his mind.

A/N: I guess it's my turn to post for supernatural summer @cssns​! I'm super excited to share my werewolf fic with you, as I've never written a werewolf fic before! Special shoutout to @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ for her work as my beta and @courtorderedcake​ for her INCREDIBLE artwork! At the beginning of every chapter, I'll share the title art and an image for the character whose perspective the chapter belongs to or a character that is featured quite prominently. I hope you enjoy! 

Read on Ao3

--

Killian stretched each limb experimentally, shaking out his pelt of dust.

The full moon was always exciting, a release of pent up energy that he’d been holding onto for the past week.

Moreover, it was the first time in ages he’d get to run freely with his brother. No trying to hide away from other packs, not trying to find their father who’d cast them both aside. Killian was done being upset with his father. He was done trying to mourn the past and tired of hiding.

He knew why his brother was nervous. They were both young males in their prime, something most alphas did not want to accept into their pack.

Pack loyalty means very little, Killian thought to himself, thinking of his father. As soon as his mate had died, Brennan had turned Liam and Killian out, preferring to start a family with a new mate and a new pup.

Not that Killian was particularly close with his father before all this anyway.

Sometimes, he felt as if his ability to shift was a curse. He and his brother were both decorated veterans, fairly attractive by most women’s standards, and ran a successful business together. It was the new business that allowed him and Liam to just pack up and leave their life behind once their father decided he was done with them.

Why their father suddenly didn’t want anything to do with them was beyond him.

His claw raked across the ground in frustration, feeling the desire to run. He’d been waiting all month for this and he’d be damned if Liam kept him from enjoying himself.

Just where the hell is Liam?

It normally didn’t take his brother this long to transform, although knowing the uptight ponce his brother was, he probably wanted to test his control over every element of his turn from man to wolf.

A rustle sounded behind him, and with a playful huff, he hid into the brush, planning on surprising his brother with a playful tussle before they started their run.

Finally!

With a low growl, Killian launched himself from the brush and began to playfully tussle with the wolf below him. It was only when her scent hit him—her scent?—that he stopped, immediately leaping off of her.

Where Liam’s fur had more of the salt and pepper quality that he’d very clearly inherited from their sire, this wolf was all grey. Her green eyes never left him as she began to stalk in a low circle around. He could see suspicion and distrust clear in her green eyes, and he wondered if her pack was not long behind.

She snapped her jaws at him, dropping into a defense crouch with a low warning growl.

Killian dipped his head submissively, and she stopped in her tracks. Her ears flicked upward, but she did not unfurl from her crouch.

 I thought you were my brother , he tried to explain. The heather hid your scent.

Her scent suggested that she, like him, was not an ordinary wolf. If she was like him she’d hear him--or so he desperately hoped--although there was no guarantee that if she was like him, she’d even be willing to understand. While he certainly wasn’t the largest wolf in the world, attacking a she-wolf out of nowhere was bad form. If her pack was nearby, he and Liam were in trouble.

If that’s how you treat your brother, I’d hate to see how you treat strangers, she retorted, a low note of amusement tinting her words. She sat up a little bit straighter and moved a little bit closer to him. The faintest hints of distrust still lingered in her eyes as she took note of his scent. You’re not from around here.

My first full moon here, he confessed.

Are you a member of Neverland? The suspicion was back in her eyes and she went into a defensive crouch, letting out another irritated growl. I’ve already told Neal that he can have Henry next week!

Neal? Henry? Killian tilted his head curiously at her. I’m not sure what you mean, lass…

She let out a low warning growl from the back of her throat. But then she sat up again. You’re not lying…

No, and again, I’m sorry for the trouble , he said earnestly, dipping his head to her. I’m Killian Jones. My brother Liam is around here somewhere.

I’m Emma, the wolf responded, dipping her head to him as she sat back up. She tilted her head at him, green eyes taking him in. He tried not to move, despite the nervous energy overwhelming him.

The full moon often gave him and his kind more energy that they could burn off, and he was dying to run. He wondered if she felt the same way.

With a playful wag of her tail, she swiped at his nose before taking off in the other direction.

The sound of her laughter reverberated in his mind and after shaking his head, he took off after her. You’re going to pay for that, lass! He called after her, hoping she hadn’t gotten too far ahead.

You’ll have to catch me first!

So she wasn’t that far ahead of him.

There was nothing more freeing as the rush of wind in his fur as he bounded through the forest. The ability to just run without any kind of restraint was something he’d been yearning for over the past few days. And still, even running for a chase was all the more exciting.  

Her scent was getting stronger and he knew he was getting closer. He bunched his muscles together and leapt, his body colliding with hers.

With a surprised yelp from Emma, the two of them went tumbling down a ravine. The two wolves wrestled playfully as they fell until they landed with a thud, Killian pinning Emma to the ground.

Looks like I win , he told her, grinning down at her. That was bad form, swiping me like that and running off!

Why? Mad I caught you unawares?

I do love a fair fight. Though normally, I prefer to do other more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back. If he’d been in his human form, he for sure would’ve waggled his eyebrows at her.

What a terrible line. Emma tossed her head back with a snort, trying to shimmy out from underneath him.

You might want to quit while you’re ahead, he teased.

Why would I do that when I’m winning? she asked, thrusting her hind paws to kick him in the side. He tumbled off with a surprised howl. He leaped back up into a playful crouch, but he was suddenly blindsided as another body tackled into him.

A cacophony of voices all sounded at once. He recognized Liam, and two other male voices that he hadn’t heard before. Emma’s packmates, he supposed.

August! Graham! Leave him alone! Emma commanded, and soon all the voices fell silent.

They could be Goldweaver spies! The amber wolf growled lowly.

Enough! Emma repeated. We’ll take them both back.

Both the amber and the umber shaded wolf both stopped and bowed to Emma.

You better not try anything, the brown wolf growled lowly.

Killian rolled his eyes and stamped the ground with one paw. His hackles were already starting to rise, not sure what to make of the newcomers. He hated feeling caught unawares. As much fun as he had chasing and teasing Emma, he didn’t like the way the other wolf was looking at him.

He longed to lunge, to start something he could truly finish, but there was something in Emma’s gaze that suggested she would solve this, despite how irritated he was.

Being in unfamiliar territory, at the whim of just someone he just met? Not exactly Killian’s ideal situation.

Still—and he couldn’t explain why—he trusted her, and dipped his head as if to acquiesce to her. 

What trouble have you gotten us into now? Liam asked.

The grey tail flicked him playfully and he let out a low warning growl.

Behind him, the auburn wolf--Grady? Grant? What was his name again?--snapped his jaws at him.

Killian whipped his jaws around to snap back at him. He wasn't in the mood to play any sort of games, despite what the maddening she-wolf in front of him thought.

 A deeper growl silenced them both, and even stopped Liam. Stood high on a ledge in the clearing was arguably one of the biggest wolves Killian had ever seen. His amber fur was practically gold in the light of the full moon and when he stepped toward them, every wolf around them bowed their head in respect.

The pack Alpha, Killian realized. And yet, the she-wolf did not bow her head. She simply trotted over to the pack Alpha and sat in front of him, gently nudging her head against his muzzle.

There was a look in the Alpha's eyes that was both fond and affectionate as he gently nudged her back. Their builds were similar and even though her fur was grey, there was no mistaking the similarities between the two when their gazes turned to him and his brother.

Oh no... Killian groaned inwardly . I've tussled with a pack Alpha's daughter. It was only a play fight, really, but the greater implications of what Grayson--Griffin? Seriously, what was his name?--had stumbled onto washed over him.

 No wonder the other wolf was about to tear his hide off.

Liam seemed to come to this same realization, staring down at his brother with a look that was not quite imperious but definitely suggested that he would be in a lot more trouble if the pack Alpha let them live.

What happened? The Alpha started, looking down on them all sternly.

This mutt attacked her!

He didn’t attack me, Graham. That’s not what happened. Emma rolled her eyes, a decidedly human like gesture even in her wolf form. If he attacked me, he’d be far worse off and we all know it.

Ooh, tough lass, he teased, unable to help himself.

Graham responded by snapping his jaws at him again and Liam cuffed him with a paw.

I found Killian and his brother in our territory. They’re new around here, Emma explained to her father. Killian and I were just…getting to know each other.

And who are you? There was no judgement in the Alpha’s eyes, no immediate condemnation of his actions. Killian could respect Emma’s father’s desire for fairness. Other Alphas probably would’ve had their jaws around his throat by now for even looking at Emma the wrong way.

I’m Liam Jones, and this is my little brother, Killian. Liam swiveled his head as if to silence Killian and keep him from running his mouth.

Younger… Killian thought lowly, but apparently not low enough for both the Alpha and Emma let out huffs of amusement.

And how did you come across my daughter and our pack? The Alpha asked.

We met in the forest— Liam started.

They ambushed her!

Killian couldn’t help but score his claws across the ground when Graham spoke up again.

It’s not as bad as Graham is making it out to be, Emma interrupted.

He had you pinned down! Graham protested.

We were playfighting, jeez! It’s not that big of a deal! Emma huffed.

Playfighting? Emma, what are you…a pup? Another wolf moved to sit beside the Alpha. She and Emma had very similar builds, though harlequin patterned fur showed both white and gray splotches. It looked like snow over mountain rocks, and Killian had to admit that it was a stunning pelt color, though he much preferred the simplicity of Emma’s gray all things being equal.

Like Emma had playfully smacked him in the face with her tail, the newcomer did the same to Emma. I thought I taught you all about stranger danger when you were little.

Mom! Emma huffed, tossing her head back.

Well, she doesn’t seem to be hurt, David. I’d say there’s some truth to their story. Both fondness and amusement filled her words and Emma headbutted her mother with a huff.

If I may, Liam interrupted, taking a step forward.

And who said you could? Graham growled lowly again. Say the word and I’ll send them both running!

Enough, Graham. Let them speak, the Alpha—David—ordered.

My brother and I have just moved here. We have no ties to our former pack and we didn’t even realize that the pack boundaries were so specific in this area. If you remark your territory, and tell this Neverland pack to do the same, we won’t trouble you again, Liam offered. Killian and I are both very sorry for the disturbance we’ve caused this evening.

Liam did his very best to look contrite.

Killian, on the other hand, did not. He never broke eye contact with Graham, trying to antagonize the other wolf into starting a fight. He still had some energy to burn.

Brother! Liam rebuked him sternly.

He heard that loud and clear but not everyone in the clearing did. In addition to being able to communicate with their own kind, there were some communications that were limited to blood or mates. If Liam ever took a mate, there would soon be communications that he would no longer be privy to.

Not that it mattered, considering he was pretty sure the Alpha was going to strike him down there and then anyway.

I’m going to ask one question before I make my decision, David announced. Were you both turned away for a violent reason?

No, sir, Liam answered honestly. Our father took a new mate after the passing of our mother, and they felt that Killian and I no longer had a place in their pack.

Killian winced visibly as the story circulated through the circle. Surprise, whispers, murmurs, scorn…it was all ringing in his ears.

But her voice was quiet.

Her father looked down at her and she tilted her head up at him.

Killian suddenly recalled how she immediately knew he hadn’t been lying when he said he wasn’t from the Neverland pack. He had heard tell of some wolves with other abilities, but he’d never seen one in person.

Or at least, that’s what he thought he was seeing.

David looked over to his wife, and then again at his daughter before looking back to Liam and Killian.

Why don’t you join our pack? David offered. At least for a probationary period?

Killian could only blink his surprise.

We would be honored, Liam replied almost immediately.

Beside him, he could feel Graham getting upset and David then turned to the young wolf. After a three moon period, I will meet with a small council to decide whether or not they can stay. My word is final on this and is not for debate.

Graham seemed cowed by his Alpha’s demands and sat, his ears pinned to the back of his head.

David dipped his head to both Liam and Killian. Welcome to Misthaven, you two.

[whoisbxcky]

‘Till Next Time, Doll.

summary: Bucky is fatally wounded on a mission and you’re forced to say goodbye. 

pairing: bucky x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: death, blood, angst, my own breaking heart if you squint 

author’s note: Should I have written this at 2am after copious amounts of red wine? No. Did I? Yes. Gets a little cringe in the last paragraph but I needed something to giggle at after writing this.

Sometimes, there’s no warning at all.

In the chaos of battle, stray bullets and flying shrapnel are easy to miss. Especially for those who aren’t gifted with enhanced senses or reflexes. Y/N grimaced as a bullet that was meant for Natasha flew just centimetres away from her left ear.

“Y/N, you good?” Came Romanoff’s voice over the comms. Y/N grinned, dodging a Hydra agent who had snuck up behind her while she was distracted, her fist connected with his jaw while her right leg snuck in behind his own, the impact causing him to fly back onto the floor. Her heel came down with a sharp crack onto his face, leaving him out cold, and likely in need of a good plastic surgeon’s contact details.

“Living the dream, Nat. Although, I have to say, if you want me taking bullets for you, you’ll at least have to buy me dinner first.” Y/N responded, a devilish smirk over her face as she gunned down a few more Hydra agents coming in from the left corridor.

“There something we should know about, Y/L/N, Romanoff?” Tony’s voice came muffled over the earpiece, he was clearly out of range, probably flying around somewhere outside the warehouse, but his point was made perfectly clear.

“Only in your dreams, Tony.” Nat quipped back. Y/N let out a half laugh, ducking for cover as bullets rained down of her from the right, third floor. She yelped as one grazed over her thigh, cursing enough to make a priest turn red, before reloading her pistol. A low, gruff voice over the comms made her stop in her tracks as she moved to fire back, her brows furrowed in half anger, half pain.

“Y/N, stay where you are, I’m coming to back up.” She couldn’t help but smile slightly, the reassurance of that voice in particular making her light up despite the myriad bullets flying past her head at that moment. Bucky had caused that reaction in her from the moment she laid eyes on him two years ago, when she’d first found herself in Stark Towers, relocated from S.H.I.E.L.D on Nick Fury’s orders. It hadn’t taken long for the pair to grow close; Bucky had appreciated the way Y/N had treated him like a person right off the bat, rather than the ex-killing-machine the rest of the world seemed to view him as, and he’d opened up to her after just a few months of late night run ins in the communal kitchen. Y/N had seen something incredibly human in the super soldier, she always told him it was his eyes, something buried deep in them, that had first drawn her to him. But Bucky never really understood what she meant by it. Nevertheless, over time their relationship had reached a fever pitch, and for the previous nine months they’d been inseparable.

That closeness had transferred into their work lives, and it was not uncommon to find one abandoning their position to rush to the other’s aid when things got hairy. No one really minded though, seeing Bucky find some happiness in the world that had brought him to his knees so many times was a gift, and no one was going to complain about it.

The sound of cursing in Russian and some pained screams alerted Y/N to her beloved’s arrival. It wasn’t long before his head appeared around the side of the stone pillar she had leapt behind. His eyes showing the concern, and then relief, that his grin tried to cover up.

“Sleeping on the job, doll?” He offered her a hand, which she took gingerly as he hoisted her to her feet. His hands came to rest on her waist, his eyes scanning her over head to toe, analysing the extent of her injuries.

“Someone mentioned dinner and I got side-tracked.” Y/N shrugged, flashing Bucky a sharp-toothed grin as she dusted herself off, before giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

Bucky chuckled lightly, his hand trailing up her arm until it reached her face. His fingers were hooked gently under her chin, tilting it to face him and he smiled lovingly down at her. “We should be wrapping up here soon, once we get home, I’ll get dinner going. I’m thinking steak, with that bottle of red from your birthday, sound good?”

Y/N couldn’t help but practically beam back at him. God, she was so in love with this man. And so loved by him. She never thought she’d feel so loved while in the middle of a miniature war zone. But being with Bucky, no matter what the surrounding, always made her feel at home. “That sounds perfect, Buck, thank you.”

“Anything for you, Y/N.” He pressed his lips against her forehead in a quick, but meaningful kiss, before reloading his rifle. “Come on, let’s go and find the others and get the hell out of this joint.”

Y/N nodded in agreement, checking the magazine of her pistol once over, before stepping out from behind the pillar to do one final sweep.

Y/N did not have any super-powers. No gimmicks, or tricks. Nothing that made her extraordinary. She was a skilled markswoman, and proficient in hand-to-hand combat. But none of that would have allowed her to notice the sniper who had lined up a shot over her heart from across the warehouse, until of course she heard she gun go off.

Time tends to move incredibly slowly when it’s your final seconds, and Y/N could to little but stare in shock, as the bullet sliced through the air, barrelling straight for her chest. There was no time to run, no time to duck even, not for a regular old human like her.

A dull thud alerted her to the fact that the bullet had hid its target. A flash of red across her vision as blood sprayed from the exit wound. She was only vaguely aware of a scream that she would later realise was her own.

Sometimes, there’s no warning at all. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Please… Bucky, please don’t leave me.” Y/N sobbed into his chest, her hands gripping uselessly at the torn fabric of his suit. She could barely look at him, looking at him… Seeing him like this… The colourless face, the distant eyes… Looking at him made it real.

“I don’t have a choice, doll.” His voice rattled in his chest as a barely-there whisper left his lips. Y/N could hear the blood pooling in his mouth, feel the strain in each of his breaths. He was fading. Fast. “You have to let me go, Y/N-”

“No.”

She heard the strain in her own voice. It didn’t sound like her. This voice sounded broken, empty. Like the voice of one who had accepted the imminent future laid out before them. She couldn’t, she couldn’t accept a world without James Buchanan Barnes in it. She wouldn’t.

Why? Why hadn’t she moved faster, been more cautious, done something differently. Why had Bucky stepped in front of her, his superior reflexes giving him the ability to get in front of the bullet that was meant for her. It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense to her right now. This was wrong, wrong, wrong.

“I can fix this, Bucky, I can fix this. Please- Just, please let me-” She tore the fabric of her shirt, clumsily pressing it over the bullet wound in his chest, her eyes blurry from the tears that cascaded over her cheeks. However, she was cut off by Bucky’s hands on her wrists, their grip a wiry strength that didn’t feel like him. Didn’t feel warm, strong, comforting. It felt fragile. Distant. No, no no, no.

“Y/N, hey, stop it.” His voice was firm, as firm as could be in between the ragged breaths that made his shoulders tremble with each inhale. “Let me see you, look at me, baby.”

Quiet sobs racked Y/N’s chest as she drew in a shaky breath. You have to be strong, for him, you need to pull yourself together. She slowly raised her head, her eyes meeting his as she roughly wiped the tears from her face. Her hands clutching his own with a certainty that wasn’t there before. A promise.

“I’m right here, Bucky. I’m not going anywhere.” She managed to force a smile for him, it was barely there, but it was met with one of his own. Bucky had always loved Y/N’s smile. No mater how dark his mind became, no matter how broken and beaten he felt, her smile, glowing like the summer sun, was his light in the darkest of places. He raised a trembling arm to her face, his arm, his own flesh with his weak, final heart beats running through its core. His palm rested against her cheek, his fingers trailing down her features, blurry eyes drinking in every minor detail of her face, as if they could be etched into his memory beyond the constraints of mortality.

“Hey, Y/N…”

“Yeah, Bucky?” Her hand found its way over the top of his, slick with his blood, but she didn’t care. She gripped onto him tightly, savouring the feeling of his skin against hers, her eyes trying desperately to take in every detail of his eyes, steel blue and full of the hope for a better world than the one he’d leave behind. The eyes she had called home for so many years.

“Y/N… If there’s… If there’s a life after this one-” Bucky paused for a moment, struggling to take in a breath, his hand slipping into Y/N’s hair to stroke it softly. He could no longer mask the pain on his face, the fading light in his eyes. “If there’s a life after this one, let’s meet up again in it.” He smiled at her through the pained expression on his face, his breaths becoming shallow and rapid. His grip in her hair felt weaker than it did a moment ago.

Y/N’s heart rose into her throat, threatening to leave her body entirely. The impending numbness was close, and she was vaguely aware of her mind shutting down around her, but for this moment, this one sweet second, there was only her and Bucky. A fresh wave of tears trailed down her cheeks, mixing with the blood from her hand there, and she smiled through the pain, nodding her head in agreement with him.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. I will love you until the end of this life, and all through the life after that, and the one after that. I love you.” Her words tumbled out in between her sobs, as if saying them could make him stay, even just a second longer.

Bucky’s eyes were still now, still fixed on hers, but the light in them was all but gone. His smile was fading into an expression of peace, and she thought she must have imagined his voice, as the barely-there whisper almost went unheard in between her shaky breaths.

“I… love you… Y/N…-” And with that, her name on his lips, a silent promise to himself that one day, somehow, some way, he’d say it again, he slipped away.

All throughout the warehouse, there was silence. Not even the wind dared take a breath. Bucky’s eyes stared at nothing, his expression that of one who is blissfully absent from the triviality of being. Trembling fingers reached out, slowly drawing his eyelids closed. Lips stained with dust, blood and tear marks pressed against each eyelid once, before settling on his lips, which had already grown cold. Y/N held the fallen solider in her arms for what felt like an eternity, rocking backwards and forwards with him gently. But her face, once a picture of joy, hope, fear and sorrow, was entirely expressionless. In the silence of the room, she made a silent vow to Bucky, to herself, to the universe. She may not have been able to save the love of her life, but consequences be damned, she would avenge him.

[scngswan]

𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞  𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧  𝐚  𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞  …  odette maris  was  known  as  the  poised  &  affectionate  dancer with  a  reputation  for  being  a  laura harrier  doppelganger  .   but  now  ,  under  the  stress  of  the  war  on  the  horizon  ,  the  natural  born  unaffiliated  noble  shapeshifter  ( swan )  has  become  widely  known  for  being  rather  circumspect  &  contentious .   let's  see  how  long  the  camelot  native  will  last  during  this  war  .   after  all  they're  only  twenty-five years  old  .   +  she/her  &  cisfemale  ,  swan lake  .

hello! i’m eva, 21+ and below we have a bit of odette’s history and some connection ideas. feel free to message me here or through discord at EVA #8722 for plotting or anything else!

pinterest is here btw!

STORY ; in detail –

odette’s tale hails mostly from the original showing of swan lake back in 1877 rather than the updated versions.

born a swan maiden, a half-breed with the ability to switch forms at will, her curse came at the hands of a witch her human father, a knight, married following her fairy mother’s death. the witch and her faithful companion von rothbart sought her end if for no other reason than their obvious jealousy and personal desires – von rothbart wished for her hand in marriage, odette refused, and the witch merely wanted her out of her new home. and so, the witch figured she could merely force odette out of the way and kill her later, perhaps, by making her swan life a permanent one. swans were a delicacy in this time, after all, and surely she’d be hunted if nothing else.

her grandfather, a fellow fae, caught wind of this and offered his protection just in time, saving her life by leading her and others cursed by the witch ( as this was not the woman’s first attempt at such ) to a lake of his creation. with his aid, the curse became less so, allowing her human form at night while on the lake. a crown imbued with her mother’s magic placed atop her head at birth for further safety was also amplified further at this time, acting as a lifeline of sorts and permitting claim to her title of ‘swan queen’ alongside her noble heritage.

death or true love for any of the cursed maidens would allow the spell to break completely, and odette awaits prince charming only to find betrayal at said man’s hands when he proclaims his love for von rothbart’s daughter odile in her place. he all but assures her death during a late storm courtesy of his inability to accept when she refuses him entirely despite his pleas. his destruction of her crown sees her drowning in the storm and she is assumed dead for a second time. the curse is broken.

reborn some time after on account of the lake’s inherent magic and that of her familial blood, she claims her freedom well beyond the lake’s boundaries at last and retains her ability to transform into a swan at will.

EVER AFTER ; in detail –

she makes her living as a traveling dancer, performing for royalty and commoner alike in any number of celebrations or theatrical performances. she is well-known and respected, but few are aware of her ties to nobility or former life.  

a trained combatant, primarily in swordsmanship and archery, with enough anger in her veins to rain hell upon any kingdom, she is a rightful member of the resistance after a stint of neutrality. she seeks her own form of retribution against those unfit to rule, be it a gutless prince or a crafty villainess. that said, her allegiances can sway under the right circumstances.

in spite of her reigning anger at the hand she’s been dealt, she still retains her softness and regal ways in some measure. she keeps to her solitude when she can, showing occasional kindness to those she deems worthy. like any swan, she is territorial, but she also has a tendency to tease. she is claustrophobic, abhorring cramped spaces and preferring the openness of her forest clearings and gardens.

after a longer life of berries and fish, she has completely converted to pescatarian life. so meat-eaters best beware.

OTHER ; connections etc –

her family ties include seelie fae of some noble backing in the spring courts, becoming solitary in their later years and gradually falling away from such life. as a half-ling, the extent of any magic in odette is not at all physically manifested save for in her ability to hold her form as a swan at will and keep communication with other creatures. that said, with her ties, it isn’t difficult to imagine other fae who could know her or of her.

knights in connection with her father who helped train her, act as a designated guardian, or simply know her in passing per her noble connection. 

any who knew her as a trapped swan could be fun to dabble with too. this also extends to any who know of the witch who cursed her ( who i imagine dead at this point, but honestly? we could play with this ), her former almost prince, von rothbart, or even odile. 

all possible ties to her former life are welcome, particularly in regards to the latter three since she’s trying her very best to keep them as far out of her life as possible. this isn’t to say she’s always successful.

current traveling companions, be they as interesting as pirates or other sorts, or even fellow performers and dancers would be lovely.

people who don’t know she’s human who try to hunt her as a swan, maybe?

fellow forest friends, shapeshifters. other nobles and those of royalty.

any other ideas, feel free to let me know!

[raendown]

@madatobiweek Day 5 Prompt: modern with magic au//soulmate au

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4613 Rated: G Summary:  "What greater gift than the love of a cat" - Charles Dickens

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

What Greater Gift

Hashirama’s smile of greeting instantly melted away in to a pout when Madara gave him no more than a perfunctory wave as he passed by his friend, venturing further in to the house without a word.

“Madara! Where are you going?”

“Where’s your cat?” Madara called back, knowing another pair of ears would hear him as well. Just as he’d thought, a protesting snarl came from down the hall. He was smiling when he turned in to the immaculately clean room he usually found his other friend in.

Tobirama’s massive furred body was stretched out across the perfectly made bed he seemed to prefer for his naps. Madara had no idea if he had simply taken an interest in the guest room and claimed it as his own or if Hashirama had deliberately set up the guest bedroom as a haven for his feline pet when they had no one else to fill it but either way this was where Tobirama could be found most often, shamelessly coating the bedding with his fur.

Madara was smirking as he strolled in, dropping himself on the end of the bed and stroking a hand across the back of his friend’s neck. Tobirama purred even as his red eyes blinked open to glare at Madara.

“Who do you think you’re calling a cat?” the snow leopard asked him. Madara shrugged unrepentantly.

“You are one of the ‘great cats’ species, are you not? If you keep growling at me I won’t give you the present that I know you can smell.”

He waited for Tobirama to huff and look away, deliberately not rebutting that his species was not actually one of the great cats, before reaching in to his pocket and retrieving the packet of meat he had brought with him today. Years of bringing similar treats had inured him to the feeling of picking out a piece of raw pheasant and holding it out with a flat palm. Tobirama’s purring rumbled louder as he snatched it up delicately with his razor sharp teeth, giving thanks by being extra careful not to bite anything he wasn’t supposed to. Madara fed him all three pieces by hand and then resumed petting while Tobirama licked his jaws.

“An acceptable offering,” the animal allowed. Madara took his turn to huff.

“Hah! Acceptable my ass, you love pheasant.” He scratched briefly behind the animal’s ear before getting up. “Coming?”

Tobirama stood and stretched before leaping gracefully from the bed to lead both of them back down the hall where Hashirama was still pouting about being passed over. Madara felt no guilt. He was as much friends with Hashirama’s unique pet as he was with the man himself.

He’d been awed at first when he met Tobirama. Hashirama wasn’t even a witch, it was incredible that he had managed to acquire a familiar. Yet as time went on he came more and more often to the conclusion that Tobirama must have been the one to choose his master rather than the other way around. He was a proud animal and Madara had never seen proof of any partnership between them other than a friendship similar to the one Madara had been blessed with. He couldn’t imagine what had drawn two such opposite beings together but it was hardly his place to question it; bonds like the one between familiar and master were sacred and very personal, certainly not to be asked about as one casually asks what’s for dinner.

“Tobiiii!” Hashirama whined. Tobirama wound between his legs and wrapped his tail around the man’s waist like an approximation of a hug.

“Don’t call me Tobi,” was all he said.

Madara snickered as he washed his hands and when he was done began rooting through his friend’s cupboards for a pre-dinner snack. Mito wasn’t home to reprimand him about ruining his appetite before they ate so he could afford to break a household rule or two – as long as she didn’t find out. Mito was a witch and a powerful one at that. She was fully capable of hitting him with some very uncomfortable curses if she discovered he’d been eating only an hour before dinner. Or she could just banish him back to his own cold and empty home for a week, that was always punishment enough to remind him how to behave.

With a handful of crackers in hand Madara retreated to the living room where he sat down on the floor with his back to the couch. Tobirama paced a few circles around the coffee table before curling himself down on the carpet and dropping his great head in to Madara’s lap, purring when the petting resumed immediately. Hashirama followed after them but tucked himself in to the other end of the couch instead, snickering in their direction.

“Feeling affectionate today, Tobirama?” the man asked in a teasing voice. Tobirama gave a short snarl but didn’t bother to move and went back to purring almost seamlessly.

They passed the rest of the hour until Mito returned by watching some stupid popular television drama. When his friend’s wife arrived she brought dinner with her, one large paper bag of take out for the three adults, already knowing she would come home to find Madara there as well, and one medium sized package from the butcher for Tobirama. All of them moved back to the kitchen the moment she stepped in the door, following the smell of whatever deliciousness she’d brought for them today.

Madara had also thought at one point that Tobirama might be Mito’s familiar. She wasn’t as obvious about her skills as most prominent witches tended to be but someone as powerful as her should have endless trails of unbonded creatures begging to be her familiar; that she didn’t had made him thoughtful when he first started spending time with them all. He’d never been boorish enough to ask but in the end he hadn’t needed to as their behavior had made it obvious many times over since then that Tobirama did not stay here for Mito’s sake. Certainly they got along but they could barely be said to be any sort of friends. Their relationship began and ended at mutual respect. If anything, he would have said they acted like distant relatives.

He simply couldn’t see Mito getting away with the sort of things Hashirama did. Things like sitting on the floor to groom Tobirama’s nails or pulling him in to tight, cuddling hugs with no warning or fear of mutilation. Each time something like that happened Tobirama would huff and snarl and wriggle in protest, yet his escape attempts never seemed to have much heart in them and he was always very careful not to injure Hashirama in the struggle. Most telling was the way he inevitably gave in to these random affections after making it clear that he objected in some manner.

“Oh, Madara!” he was pulled from his musings by Hashirama’s teasing tone. “I ran in to my cousin the other day. Tetsuo? He asked about you.”

Madara groaned at the same time Tobirama let out a quiet growl of displeasure.

“Tetsuo? You mean that idiot who kept fawning all over me at your Christmas party? Spare me.” He shook his head, stopping when he noticed the glint is his friend’s eye and the evil smile hovering around Mito’s lips.

“Does that mean you wouldn’t be excited to go on a date with him this Friday?” Hashirama tried to look innocent and Madara didn’t believe him for one second.

“Excited? Of course I wouldn’t be excited!” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “What have you done, bark-for-brains?”

“I didn’t do anything! Except maybe tell him that of course you would be willing to meet him at the restaurant near his work.” The stupid fool began to cackle over his own joke as horror quickly filled Madara’s face, dread settling in his stomach. Tetsuo was an absolute idiot and Hashirama was very aware of his disgust for the man. Unfortunately his friend had been in the mood for pulling all sorts of terrible pranks lately. He always had thought he was funnier than he actually was.

A hefty swat expressed his feelings on the matter rather succinctly. He was extra satisfied to see Hashirama nearly face-plant in to his plate of dinner. Sitting next to him on the bench that had been pushed up to the table specifically for their shared use, Tobirama made the distinct coughing hissing sound that denoted his feline laughter. While many might have found it odd to see a giant cat sitting up at the table with the rest of them, it had been so long that at this point Madara just accepted it as normal. This family was weird. If it bothered him he would have stopped visiting so many times a week.

“You owe me big time,” he growled at his friend. Then he turned to Tobirama and screeched, “It’s not funny!”

“Of course it is. You having to spend an entire evening listening to that idiot’s drivel? We should take bets now on how long you last before throwing your drink in his face.” His fangs glinted in the light of the tame spirit Mito kept in place of candles. She always said it gave dinner a more intimate mood but Madara just felt like he was being watched while he ate.

Everyone else at the table ignored him when he crossed his arms and fell back in to a sulk. Throwing his drink in Senju Tetsuo’s face sounded grand but they all knew he wouldn’t do it. An idiot the man might be but he was also a powerful witch, odd considering Madara had never met any other true blooded Senju with so much as a drop of magic in them.

Actually that wasn’t true, according to Hashirama they all had magic in their blood. It was just that in most cases it refused to manifest in to any sort of ability. Their bloodline was considered excellent for breeding but it was always a gamble whether the child would take after their Senju ancestors or their other parent, stronger than the previous generation or completely powerless. Mito herself had delivered the news only a week before that she was with child and with that announcement she had also firmly declared that her child would receive the same love no matter which of their families it took after.

Madara let his eyes roam over the pair of them and wondered for the hundredth time if Mito was hiding the ability to read his thoughts, watching as she lifted one hand to caress the belly that had not yet begun to grow. The urge to fall back in to sulking returned when Hashirama reached over to entwine his fingers with hers. Seeing the backs of their hands next to each other with the identical marks they had both been gifted with at birth only soured his stomach with a disgusting kind of longing sadness that he tried his hardest to push away. He knew very well that there was little point in letting their happiness affect his own but it was hard sometimes.

Finding one’s soulmate was something everyone yearned for despite knowing how rare the phenomenon was. If there was one thing he envied the Senju clan for it was their odd knack for finding the ones fate had chosen for them. Hashirama and Mito had been disgustingly in love since the day he met them and that hadn’t changed in the years since. If anything they might have actually gotten worse, holding their heads close together as they talked about the future, debating potential baby names without regard for how little other people within earshot cared. Madara liked to think that he would have that strong of a bond with his own partner but to find out he would need to meet them and to do that he probably needed to put himself out there a little more. Which meant accepting dates with perfect strangers and getting to know them well enough to share marks.

The very thought was abhorrent. Sharing his mark with someone it wasn’t meant for? It felt akin to baring his very soul for an unworthy person to judge.

“I think I’ve lost my appetite,” he murmured, recognizing that he wouldn’t be able to stop the landslide of thoughts trying to drag him down. Better that he removed himself before he could bring down everyone else’s mood as well. Hashirama called after him in confusion but Madara waved him off. “Nothing, I’m fine, I just…got a little stuck in my head. Leave me alone until I get back out.”

Without further explanation he disappeared down the hallway and headed for the back door. He never heard the footsteps padding after him but he did hear the startled yowl when he let the door go and it closed on Tobirama’s shoulder. The cat huffed and butted him in retaliation until he sighed and reached down to ruffle fluffy ears.

“Thought I said leave me alone.”

“I don’t count,” Tobirama announced loftily. “You were talking to him.”

“Mn. True.” He had to admit that it was. Hashirama’s particular brand of cheering up had never been his favorite and with how suddenly the mood had hit him it probably wouldn’t be a great idea to let himself be smothered under the perpetual cheer of such a bright person. Sometimes he just needed to let himself be grumpy.

Tobirama, at least, understood that. Neither of them said anything as the leopard padded ahead of him and slipped in to the natural spring just passed the edge of the porch. For a cat he sure did seem to enjoy the water, so much so that Madara had once tried to look in to whether snow leopards were in any way distant relatives to tigers. He wasn’t generally a studious man, though, so he’d give up before reaching any sort of conclusion one way or the other.

Settling himself cross-legged at the edge of the porch, Madara was grateful for the companionable silence that fell between them, using the time with his thoughts to sort through them and compartmentalize while he watched his furry friend do laps around the spring. Watching Tobirama swim was just the sort of amusement he needed at the moment. His movements were a combination of his usual grace and the innate ridiculousness of a cat in water, paws clawing at the water to propel himself forward and head tilted back to keep his nose above the lapping waves, willing to dunk every part of himself but his nose. It was surprisingly easy for Madara to let go of other worries in favor of smiling at the picture he made.

After several minutes it occurred to himself that he would probably relax even more if he went for a quick dip himself. Mito’s charms buried all around the pool kept the water at a pleasant temperature akin to a lukewarm bath and lounging in the quiet waves created by Tobirama’s paddling sounded particularly lovely at the moment.

His friend paused and stood on a submerged rock to keep his balance when he noticed Madara pulling at his sweater.

“What are you doing?”

“Joining you for a swim, what’s it look like?” The wide collar betrayed him by catching in his hair anyway but he managed to struggle out of it eventually and reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

“Isn’t your soul mark on your chest? You’ve always been so careful not to show it off to anyone.” Tobirama shifted and nearly lost his footing on the rock he was using for a perch. Madara snickered at his clumsy scramble to right himself before his whiskers could be soaked.

“Actually it’s on my abdomen,” he corrected. “But you’re a cat. Don’t care if you see it.”

He tugged his t-shirt off and shoved his pants down while Tobirama was still struggling to find better footing, setting his clothing aside and checking to make sure he hadn’t chosen white boxers that morning. Nothing would be more embarrassing than having to walk by Hashirama and Mito with his bits on full display when he went in to find a towel. Once he confirmed that today’s choice had been a pair of solid dark blue he felt safe to dip his toes in to the water and wade out passed the edge.

Then he stopped when Tobirama turned to look at him and yowled in surprise, sending himself toppling headlong in to the deepest part of the pond. Madara was bent double with laughter when the poor leopard surfaced.  So distracting was his laughter he didn’t even have the self-preservation to run when Tobirama headed straight for him despite knowing intimately how deep those claws could gouge when truly angered. It wasn’t until his friend reared up on his hind legs that Madara stopped and braced himself, surprised when he got two paws on his shoulders instead of claws in his gut.

Even more surprising was Tobirama’s fascination with his soul mark, utterly motionless as he bent his head to stare at where it rested an inch or so below his bottom rib.

“I’m not just a cat, I thought you knew that.” Tobirama sounded oddly breathless in a way Madara had never known felines were capable of. The confused question he was opening his mouth to ask died on his lips when he heard, “Apparently I am also your soulmate.”

“You what!?”

Tobirama blinked at him once and then Madara’s jaw almost unhinged itself when the shape of his face began to warp, less and less feline by the second. Whiskers receded, ears folded and melted away, fur retracted, and when it was all over he was staring at a very human man with snow white skin and hair like an untouched winter, eyes the same red as they had always been with three lines tattooed on his face to match. In a word, he was devastating. He was also so unexpected that Madara found himself reeling backwards from the shock and crying out when he put one of his feet down only to find nothing there to step on.

Water exploded around him as he crashed down in to the deeper parts of the pool. The last thing he saw was a pair of wide red eyes and then the world was nothing but darkness and wet. It took a moment of fighting through his instinctual panic to figure out which way was up and when he broke the surface he had to reach blindly for the shallow rocks so he could catch his balance to stop and claw the hair away from his face. Tobirama was where he had been before, still staring in awe.

“You’re a fucking person!?” he screeched, still trying to process.

“I thought you knew that! Did you really think I was just a leopard that happened to hang around the house?” Even having never seen this face before Madara could tell that eyebrow was being lifted with heavy judgment.

“Of course I did! You’ve never been anything else! What the hell!?”

“Ah, I suppose that is true. I prefer my other form over this one. It’s much more comfortable and it excuses many behaviors – like naps. Everyone expects a cat to nap.” He seemed to be taking this revelation much more calmly than Madara.

Though that may have been because this wasn’t actually a revelation to him. What was keeping his attention the most was the mark now dripping wet where it sat just below Madara’s ribs. Through the haze of his own shock it occurred to Madara that the last person to see his mark was Izuna several years before when it was just the two of them enjoying an empty beach on a rainy day. So protective was he of the mark that was meant only for his soulmate that Madara hadn’t even removed his shirt for his last two boyfriends, short relationships both and probably for that very reason.

Still gaping, he watching as if in slow motion as this man – this very human man, he still wasn’t over that bit – lifted a hand to trace the mark below his own ribs that, incredibly enough, was indeed a match for Madara’s own. His entire brain felt as though it were screeching to a halt when he finally saw what was had apparently been right there under his nose for years. This was his soulmate. Standing before him was the match he had been quietly waiting his entire life to find, would have waited the rest of his life to find, the one his soul was fated to bond with the most strongly. Here was the one that rumor said was supposed to make his soul feel like he had finally found home.

Oddly enough, he did. Being with Tobirama had always felt like coming home, although he’d never quite thought of it like that before. Even as an oversized feline Tobirama had been something more than a friend that he’d never bothered to define because until now it hadn’t mattered. Now he finally understood. What he had felt was potential, the connection between them forming whether they knew it or not, though it was impossible for him to have felt any sort of romantic yearning when he’d thought Tobirama was nothing more than an intelligent beast.

Madara’s cheek twitched.

“You fucking bastard,” he ground out. “I knew you looked familiar – you’re in all the photographs in Hashirama’s living room!”

“Ah, those. He always insists I return to this form for family photos.” Tobirama’s expression scrunched up with distaste and Madara twitched again, incensed but unable to pinpoint why.

“Just how much time do you spend as a damn cat?” he demanded.

Tobirama’s eyes dropped to stare at Madara’s mark again, his voice distant and distracted with other thoughts when he answered. “Most of it. Actually Mito has been trying to convince me to take this form long enough to find employment but it’s hard for her to talk when I have the ability to just fall asleep as soon as I hear her coming.” He shrugged one shoulder, fingers twitching, reaching halfway across the space between them and then snatching his hand back just before making contact. Madara stared at him.

“You’re a bum.”

“Well that’s rude.”

“An unemployed freeloader napping in your brother’s spare bedroom because you can’t be bothered to get a damn job! Oh for spirit’s sake! What have I gotten myself in to?”

“I’m not a bum…”

“Yes you are!” Madara blinked and the tirade he’d been about to unleash was abruptly cut short when Tobirama finally worked up the courage to reach out and brush his abdomen with hesitant fingers. His thoughts scattered and redirected back to the other issue at hand, leaving him off-balance yet again.

For a few moments neither of them said a word. They were standing quite close to each other still, enough so that Madara was able to watch the slightest changes in the other man’s expression as he traced warm skin, admiring the shapes and the colors that no tattoo could ever replicate. It took a while but after a few minutes of watching so intensely he slowly began to see it, that spark of familiarity, all the expressions he was used to seeing on the face of a leopard translated in to human form. Not that he had in any way doubted that this was his friend. Having just watched the transformation happen right in front of his eyes disapproved that theory before it could even form as an option. But it was enough of a connection that the face before him now seemed less of a stranger, less of the right person in the wrong skin.

It was enough to make him press a lightly shaking hand over the one exploring his skin, shocking Tobirama in to realizing just what he was doing though he didn’t let him pull away, and lift his other hand to explore the match to his own mark where it was framed in pale white skin.

“At least,” he murmured, “we get to skip over the whole awkward ‘getting to know you’ phase. Though I have to admit it’ll take some getting use to, seeing you like this. And I better be seeing you like this!” Tobirama gave vent to a very put upon sigh but the corners of his lips were twitching with the shadow of a smile when he answered.

“Yes, yes, fine. I promise to take this form more often if it will make you more comfortable to know that I am indeed human. Now, would you like to head back inside or have you calmed down enough yet?”

Madara turned to eye the pond. He’d been looking forward to a proper soak but discovering his soulmate had indeed calmed the sadness in him that he originally came out here to combat. A flash of triumphant amusement rose briefly when he realized that he now had the perfect excuse to reject that idiotic Tetsuo and avoid sitting through a few hours of misery trying not to offend such a powerful witch. Anything that kept him out of Tetsuo’s clutches was cause for celebration.

Finding his soulmate felt like a massive weight had been lifted from his chest; knowing that it was someone he already got along with was an extra bonus he could not have anticipated and he was doubly grateful that he got to skip over the awkward phase of dancing around each other, worried over whether or not they might be put off by his volatile temperament or some other bad habit. If anything Tobirama seemed to enjoy his crankiness. Whenever he was upset and needed someone to vent to without unnecessary advice being offered Tobirama was the first one he always turned to. And after he had wound himself down he was usually rewarded with a massive furry head in his lap purring loudly and demanding pets because Tobirama knew damn well how calming Madara found it to comb his fingers through all that soft fur.

His thoughts were definitely getting off track. Shaking his head to bring himself back to reality, he turned back to Tobirama with a smile as gentle as his naturally grumpy face was able to accommodate.  

“No, I’m fine now,” he said. “Let’s go back inside.”

Without thinking he held out one hand – and seemingly also without thinking Tobirama took it. They headed back towards the house with their fingers entwined in a loose grip, already striking up an easy conversation about something interesting Tobirama had seen on one of the television channels he insisted Hashirama put on for him. Upon stepping inside they turned down the hallway towards Tobirama’s room rather than head back to the kitchen.

They made it almost an entire hour before Hashirama was brought hurrying in to the room at the scream of “WAIT, BROTHERS!?” that echoed all throughout the house. It was a peaceful hour, at least, filled with open offers and possibilities that Madara would be more than happy to look in to as soon as he got his head wrapped around the fact that he was apparently soul matched to Hashirama younger brother rather than just a bum that lived in the house. He was going to be part of that idiot’s family in some way or another for the rest of his life.

Madara wondered, not for the first time, why fate had to be so cruel.

[rollercoasterwrite]

Love Is So Nice.

One-shot written for Jjong’s Month .Here are the ones I wrote last year : Moon & Happy Birthday. And my other one for this year : Just For A Day. 

Au where Jonghyun is a pink-haired barista whose dream is to be a full-time illustrator. He is older than Jinki. Minho is his best friend. Jinki’s studying in business management at uni. Also, being gay is normal, no one cares. 

Plot : Jonghyun is 25 years old and has never been in a relationship. At this point, he has given up on the idea of having love in his life. Instead, he settles for having seven puppies one day. 

Pairing : Jongyu

Genre : Romance, fluff, slice of life 

Word count : 7.1 k ~

Love had always been a weird notion to Jonghyun. It had always been all around him in every shape or form, but it wasn’t something he believed in for himself. It’s not that he didn’t want it, but the stars just didn’t seem aligned to grant it to him.

He had always been weird, awkward, detached, but also too moody and sensitive to vibe with most people. He was a loner and despite despising that about himself, he didn’t know how to be anything else.

Social interactions were his bane and with the years he had just accepted that he couldn’t have the upper hand. He had tried to fake it until he made it, but he had just ended up feeling like he was putting on a show that didn’t have any substance.

He was 25 years old now and he was slowly starting to feel like maybe he could get accustomed to the idea of being with himself until his expiration date came about. Well, maybe he could get a few puppies to keep him company.

Yeah, that seemed like a good plan. He really didn’t need anybody to fill the social void that hollowed out his insides. He certainly didn’t need anyone to validate his existence, care for him, lov-

‘’ Hey, yo, Jjong! ‘’

The all too familiar voice got the pink-haired man out of his musings, making him scrunch up his nose in annoyance as the only human he could talk to for more than ten seconds came into his line of sight.  

The tall lively brunette gave him a wide smile as he stopped in front of the counter Jonghyun was behind.

‘’ What are you doing here? ‘’ Jonghyun coldly asked as he grabbed a cloth and mindlessly traced circles on the vinyl structure he had been leaning on.

‘’ Um… isn’t this a café? Like you know, a place where people can sit and enjoy a drink and food? ‘’ Minho reminded, a note of amusement lacing his tone.

‘’ Yes, this is a café. But that’s not your scene, ‘’ Jonghyun retorted. His hand stilled over the counter. ‘’ So again, what are you doing here? ‘’

‘’ Can’t I just come by to see my best friend? ‘’ Minho pointed out with pouty lips and a bat of his eyelashes.

Jonghyun’s brows furrowed over his eyes at the annoying sight and the use of the term best friend. He didn’t understand why Minho insisted to define him in that way when he had a shitload of friends.

‘’ No, you can’t, ‘’ Jonghyun deadpanned. ‘’ You actually have to buy something. ‘’

Minho shook his head as a quiet laugh cracked his previous act. ‘’ You really are heartless, Kim Jonghyun, ‘’ he settled as he looked him in the eye.

‘’ I am going to buy something, but I’m waiting for my study partner to arrive, ‘’ he then informed.

That information made the other react instantly. ‘’ Oh my god, not again. ‘’

‘’ I know what you’re thinking, Jjong, but this is for real for real, ‘’ Minho immediately reassured. ‘’ I’m not getting that economics class at all and I can’t afford to fail it if I want to stay on the soccer team, ‘’ he vouched in a way that almost convinced the older one of his honesty.

Almost.

Jonghyun had seen this scenario unfold over and over again. Minho would find someone he liked in one of his classes, whether it be a man or a woman, would get them to study with him, usually in his dorm room, before ending the session with a late-night encounter between the sheets.

That ploy worked 100% of the time and Jonghyun had no trouble understanding why. Minho was probably one of the most attractive people he had seen in his life and compared to him, he was at the opposite side of the spectrum of social ease. He could get anyone comfortable with his charm and dashing smile.

Despite Jonghyun never openly agreeing to the self-coined term Minho used to describe this ability, he did believe he had this flaming charisma. And to be completely honest, Jonghyun was jealous of it. Maybe Minho didn’t really experience love, but at least he was getting some.

‘’ But why here this time? ‘’ Jonghyun couldn’t help but ask.

His question was answered with a roll of the eyes. ‘’ Weren’t you listening? ‘’ Minho reproved. ‘’ I really need to focus this time, so I thought it might help to not have my bed only a few meters away. ‘’

Jonghyun still had his doubts about the whole situation, but he let them slide. His friend’s conquests weren’t any of his business anyways.

‘’ Fine, ‘’ Jonghyun acknowledged before giving a look around his workplace.

His expression twisted in pure disgust as his eyes caught the same couple he had glanced at an hour earlier. Their sappy displays of affection hadn’t relented, making his desire to kick them out even stronger.

Minho followed his gaze and laughed. ‘’ Jjong, you really need to put yourself out there instead of hating on every lovebird you see, ‘’ he pointed out.

Jonghyun gave him a death stare. ‘’ I wouldn’t hate on them if they weren’t being so gross in public. There are other places to do that, ‘’ he sharply argued.

The brunette’s shoulders shook with laughter again. Before Jonghyun could even realize, he brought a hand to his hair and ruffled it affectionately. ‘’ Lighten up, Jjongie. ‘’

The older one all but huffed before the sound of the door opening caught his attention. Before he could bring himself to greet the newly arrived customer, Minho straightened up and charged towards him.

‘’ Jinki! ‘’ Was the name he heard the latter say before he trapped the smaller one into a hug. Jonghyun almost snorted when he caught the discomfort on the other’s face. Minho had never really known boundaries; he always acted on impulse.

‘’ Come on, I want to introduce you to someone first, ‘’ Minho indicated as he gestured for the other to follow him.

Jonghyun felt himself panic, but that feeling was cut short by his friend’s never-ending forwardness.

‘’ Jinki, this is my best friend, Jonghyun, ‘’ Minho filled in with a prideful smile.

‘’ Nice to meet you, Jonghyun, ‘’ Jinki said with a quick bow of the head before he flashed a smile of his own.

Jonghyun’s heart flipped inside his chest at the sight of it. He had never seen a smile so bright, so warm.

If it weren’t for the sound of Minho clearing his throat, Jonghyun probably would’ve stayed stuck in his stance for an embarrassingly long time.

‘’ Nice to meet you too, Jinki, ‘’ Jonghyun echoed as the cogs of his mind began moving again.

They held each other’s gazes silently for a few more seconds before Jonghyun remembered what his purpose was. He quickly bent down behind the counter and sprung back up with two menus in hand.

‘’ Here you go, ‘’ he quickly said before he turned the other way to make sure everything was in its right place.

He naturally eavesdropped on their conversation as he moved this and that around and pretended to wash a few cups that didn’t really need washing. It might’ve been only five minutes before Minho called him again, but that short lapse of time was enough for him to figure out that this study session might not just end with his friend getting a better mark.

‘’ I’ll take an iced black coffee and a blueberry muffin, Jjongie, ‘’ Minho indicated before turning towards the other brunette.

‘’ Oh, and I’ll have a macchiato with an almond croissant, please, ‘’ Jinki said with another warm smile.

‘’ Yes, sure. You guys can settle at a table, it’ll be ready in a few, ‘’ Jonghyun quickly uttered as he tried to ignore the acrobatics that his heart was doing again.

He almost sighed in relief as they finally moved farther away from him. He got to working on their orders, trying to keep his mind blank. But he found it harder than expected when the sound of his friend’s familiar laughter brought along with it a warm and full laugh, one that almost made him overfill the cup he was holding.

He caught himself just in time, silently cursing himself for his lapse in focus. What the fuck is wrong with me? He mused as a scowl darkened his features. Without the inkling of an answer forming in his mind, he gathered himself to get all the items on a tray and turned around again.

He was grateful that his grip on the tray was tight, because when his eyes caught chocolate ones again, he felt weak in the knees.

                                                     ***

A few days passed and Jonghyun still held on solidly to his future plan of living with seven puppies (he had finally settled on a number). He had even started visualizing the house they would live in and was now thinking about the names he could give them. He had already decided on the first one and even knew what breed he wanted her to be. For whatever reason, she had to be a her and a dachshund.

The thought of it brought a small smile to his face as he poured some coffee in a to-go cup. The café was about to close and he couldn’t wait to settle comfortably on his bed to do some drawing. He had gotten behind on some commissions and needed to catch up.

Just as he was covering the carton cup with a plastic lid, the door opened, making him jump slightly. Before he could even think about being annoyed by the last-minute intrusion, an expression of surprise crossed his features as his eyes met the person who had just come in.

‘’ Good evening, Jonghyun, ‘’ Jinki timidly said as he hid his hands in his jeans’ pockets.

Jonghyun’s brows furrowed between his eyes in confusion. ‘’ Good evening… ‘’ he slowly replied.

‘’ I know it’s late and you were probably about to close, but I have to stay up to catch up on my studying, so if it’s okay, I’d really love to have a coffee to go. ‘’

The other’s fast-paced explanation took a few seconds to register in Jonghyun’s mind. When it did, he slowly nodded.

‘’ Can you just flip the sign outside for me so no one else comes in? ‘’

His request was heeded on the spot and soon he found himself looking into those rich brown eyes again.

‘’ So what would you like? ‘’ he instantly asked, already thinking of the relief he’d feel when he’d find himself alone again.

If it were any other customer, it wouldn’t have been such bother, but this was his friend’s… study partner, if there was any truth in what Minho had told him. Plus, he hadn’t forgotten about how unsettled he had felt when he had first met him.

‘’ Just a plain dark roast coffee, ‘’ Jinki naturally replied, his fingers tapping lightly on the countertop.

‘’ Okay, ‘’ Jonghyun acknowledged. ‘’ It won’t be long, ‘’ he indicated before giving his usual courtesy smile.

He got the machine going again and let it do its magic before turning around to pull out another carton cup and plastic lid. He felt overly conscious of his every move like it was usually the case when another human being was near him, but for some reason, it felt even worse now. He kept facing the other way until the coffee was ready.

A few seconds later, he was presenting the brunette with a freshly brewed coffee to go. ‘’ Here you go. Have a nice evening, ‘’ he quickly uttered.

His heart jumped inside his chest when the other’s fingers brushed against his to grab the cup. Jonghyun’s eyes widened at the feeling, making him turn around immediately.

‘’ Thank you, Jonghyun, ‘’ Jinki expressed in a soft tone.

Jonghyun didn’t say anything else, too afraid to embarrass himself even more.

He finally heard footsteps heading the other way and when the door finally closed on itself again, he released a long sigh.

He didn’t know what was going on, but he really hoped this was the end of it.

                                                      ***

A few days passed without any other disturbing encounters and Jonghyun was more than happy about it. He had figured out the perfect life for himself and didn’t need anything or anyone to start messing with that in any shape or form.

Jonghyun knew himself. His heart barely needed a spark to create a full-blown fire. The last time that had happened, extinguishing the flames had been almost a never-ending task and from that moment on, he had promised himself he would never go through that again.

Fires were too dangerous and he was no firefighter.

He was only another young man trying to make his dreams come true by working in a café to support himself until his side gig could become his main thing. That was his path towards happiness. And a life full of puppies of course.

He headed towards another afternoon shift with that certainty in mind, a smile dancing on his lips.

But his smile fell as soon as he entered the café and caught a certain someone’s presence. Jonghyun headed straight towards the back, quickly greeting his colleague, before rushing to hide in the employees’ room.

Panic rose inside him as he thought of having to face the other again.

What is he even doing here?

Okay, Jjong, calm down. This is a café, he can come by for a drink.

But why here?

Maybe he’s meeting Minho here again…

Yeah, that’s it.

Calming himself down with that thought, he changed into his black uniform and finally stepped out to settle behind the counter. He immediately initiated small talk with his younger colleague to distract himself. The other went on about his day and Jonghyun tried really hard to pay attention, but it was practically impossible as he felt a gaze on him.

He didn’t dare look back, but there was no doubt in his mind whose gaze it was.

He prayed for Minho to step in and steal the show, but his arrival never occurred. An hour passed during which Jonghyun and his colleague had enough customers to distract themselves for a bit, but not enough that Jonghyun couldn’t catch the glances that were thrown his way a few tables away from where he was.

Soon after, his colleague’s shift ended and the traffic slowed down drastically, leaving him to panic again. He dared give a look towards his table and found him looking at his laptop’s screen, brows furrowed in deep concentration. The sight had Jonghyun captivated despite himself.

He suddenly wondered what this man’s story was. His passions, his dreams, his fears… Before snapping himself back to attention with a slight shake of the head.

No. I don’t need to know that.

What he did need to know was why this man had decided to come study here if he wasn’t meeting up with Minho. His mind kept running with the question on a track that seemed to have no end, making frustration grow inside him more and more.

Fortunately for him, the door opened just as he was about to lose his mind. His face lit up with joy as Minho stepped in.

‘’ You’ve never looked so happy to see me before, ‘’ the younger one bantered as he stopped in front of him.

Jonghyun immediately toned it down a notch, retrieving his more neutral expression. ‘’ I’m just relieved you didn’t stand up your study partner, ‘’ he casually noted.

Minho’s eyes widened. ‘’ Eh? ‘’

Jonghyun frowned. ‘’ Jinki’s been here for a few hours now. Weren’t you meeting up with him? ‘’

The same surprised expression stayed stuck on the other’s face before he turned around.

Jonghyun followed his gaze, but immediately brought it back towards the counter when Jinki looked their way.

‘’ Ah, Minho, glad to see you, ‘’ Jinki warmly greeted.

‘’ Same here, Jinki, ‘’ Minho reciprocated with a smile before turning back again. 

‘’ We had no plans to study together, Jjongie, ‘’ he then told him as he crossed his arms on the counter.

Jonghyun frowned again when a mischievous smile crossed the other’s lips.

‘’ Why are you smiling like that? ‘’

‘’ Just because, ‘’ Minho shrugged before giving a quick look behind him again. ‘’ I guess Jinki really likes this place, huh? ‘’

‘’ He’s only been here three times, ‘’ Jonghyun retorted.

‘’ He came here another time? ‘’ The younger one all but yelled as his eyes doubled in size again.

The death stare Jonghyun gave him made him calm down. In a hushed voice, he said, ‘’ Jinki doesn’t even live in the area. He’s a rich kid, Jjong. ‘’

Jonghyun blinked a few times, his mind paralyzed from the new input.

Minho’s chuckle snapped him out of it. ‘’ That’s why he didn’t fall for my irresistible charm… You caught his attention. ‘’

The satisfied smile Minho was sporting as he looked at him made him want to punch him in the face.

‘’ Stop being ridiculous, Minho, ‘’ Jonghyun scowled.

‘’ Tell me that again when he gets into your pants, ‘’ Minho teased, wiggling his brows.

Jonghyun felt his face heat up at the gross thought. ‘’ Could you please shut up, Minho? ‘’

His words came out in a snarl as anger stepped in to shield him from the other emotions that were menacing to overwhelm him.

But Minho didn’t relent. ‘’ You’d be in luck, Jjongie. From what I could see, he’s packing good stuff down there. ‘’

Jonghyun turned the other way as he felt his ears burn. The other’s smug laughter only added salt to the wound, making him now wish his friend could disappear.

‘’ He’s cute, Jjongie… Very cute, ‘’ Minho said, a slight purr lacing his voice. ‘’ When he does come on to you, please don’t be jerk, ‘’ he then advised.

Jonghyun immediately turned back around at that. ‘’ Even if what you’re saying holds any truth, who says I’m interested? ‘’

A boisterous laugh left the other. ‘’ Oh my god, Jjong, please… ‘’

The older one’s jaw clenched. He didn’t know what was so funny, but he certainly wasn’t laughing. Maybe when Minho would finally shut his trap, would he tell him about his wonderful life plan, so they would never have another conversation like that again.

‘’ I’m happy for you Jjongie, I really am, ‘’ Minho voiced in a softer tone as he wiped away the tears that had pearled at the corners of his eyes.

‘’ There’s nothing to be happy about, ‘’ Jonghyun shot back before pointing to the door.

‘’ Can you please leave now? ‘’ he urged as his patience level reached under 0.

‘’ Of course, sweetheart, ‘’ Minho said a little too loudly to Jonghyun’s liking before he leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Jonghyun completely froze, dumbfounded by his friend’s action. He stared at him in horror when he finally pulled away.

‘’ What the fuck, Minho? ‘’ he raged under his breath.

The latter grinned. ‘’ See you later, Jjongie, ‘’ he replied with a wink.

Before Jonghyun could pull out an answer out of him, the tall brunette strode towards the door and left.

After a few minutes of staring in anger at the door, Jonghyun finally recovered his wits and remembered where he was and how he was supposed to act. He grabbed a cloth again and cleaned the spot on the counter that Minho had leaned on before giving a quick look around.

He felt his face get warm again when he found dark eyes looking right at him.

                                                   ***

It was pouring like crazy outside and Jonghyun was counting down the minutes until he could get back home. No one had stepped into the café in hours and he was pretty sure no one would for the rest of the day.

Boredom was driving him crazy and the last cup of coffee he had just taken did nothing to alleviate his sleepiness. He had spent the whole night up working on drawings before having to come here to open the shop.

He was working solo from opening to closing since he was the only employee who didn't have academic constraints. He didn't mind it though; he had always preferred working alone.

Nonetheless, his brain still needed a little stimulation. Staring out the shop's window at the rain pouring had had its charm for a few minutes, but his mind had quickly asked for more.

It had started asking questions and going down certain paths, but Jonghyun had shut them down immediately.

His fingers were now itching to hold a pencil and draw, but he was scared that the moment he acted on his desire, a customer would walk in.

He let another fifteen minutes go by before finally giving in. He rushed to the back and came back with a notepad and a pencil. He naturally started drawing a dachshund because his obsession had just grown even stronger over the past few days. He knew he had to get one soon to make sure he’d stay on the right track. He smiled as he stared back at the puppy he had brought to life just from the touch of his pencil on a paper.

He then looked at the clock and scrunched up his nose. Only 10 more minutes had gone by. He gave a quick look to the door again before he flipped the page to start over on a new one. This time he just let his hand direct the pencil whichever way it wanted to go.

He found himself outlining someone’s face and got excited at the idea of having a new original character to work with. He operated fast, keeping his mind out of the process, every stroke of his pencil bringing him closer to a new life, to a new story to add to his imaginary world.

But when he stared back at the final product, his excitement totally dropped and in its place, fear rose fiercely inside him. Without thinking, he ripped the drawing apart in as many pieces as he could before throwing them out in the bin behind him.

Jonghyun stepped back away from it, still shaken by what had just happened. He closed his eyes to regain his composure, but the sound of the door suddenly opening put him on edge again. He turned back around only to have his heart leap inside his chest as he stared wide-eyed at the one who had just entered.

A soaked-looking Jinki shook off some water from his hands before stepping in further.

‘’ It’s open, right? ‘’ He asked with a worried look as he glimpsed around.

Jonghyun could only nod, shaken to the bone by the sudden overlap between his mind’s work and reality.

While he just stood there, the other moved forward until the counter became the only thing separating them.

‘’ I really need something warm right now, ‘’ he softly said before his face lit up with yet another big smile.

The pink-haired barista instantly grew hot in the face and shied away to keep himself safe.

‘’ You can sit… I’ll bring you the menu, ‘’ he managed to say despite the turmoil racking his body.

‘’ No need for that, I know what I want. ‘’

The instant reply had Jonghyun look his way again, a hint of surprise glinting in his eyes.

‘’ Oh, okay… ‘’

Jonghyun felt his chest and throat tighten as the brunette didn’t follow with any words, but instead gave him an intent look.

‘’ So… what can I get you? ‘’ he went on, his words tumbling out of his mouth with an uneasiness that just made him feel ten times worse.

‘’ I’d like a black coffee… ‘’ Jinki slowly said.

‘’ Okay sure, I-

‘’ And a date with you, ‘’ the brunette quickly added.

Jonghyun’s mouth fell open as his eyes widened in disbelief. If it wasn’t for the dark blush that instantly stained the other’s cheeks, he would’ve been sure his mind was playing tricks on him.

‘’ E-excuse me? ‘’ he blurted out nonetheless.

Jinki seemed to recoil into himself, but he still answered.

‘’ I'm sorry for being so forward, but after I saw you and Minho together I thought that I shouldn't lose my chance. ‘’

Jonghyun's brows furrowed at that. ‘’ Minho? He's just-

‘’ A friend. I know, I made sure of that, ‘’ Jinki swiftly cut in.

Jonghyun's mouth shut close as his brain imploded from all the other had just said.

‘’ Is that too creepy? ‘’ Jinki picked up as he watched the other's terrified expression with worry.

Jonghyun couldn't really say anything to that when he had just caught himself drawing his face on instinct.

‘’ I... It's just... ‘’ Jonghyun took in a sharp inhale, closing his eyes for a second.

‘’ I don't understand. ‘’

The words rang heavily in the air, leaving a few seconds of silence behind them.

‘’ What don't you understand? ‘’ 

The question came out of the brunette carefully, quietly.

Jonghyun's answer was much more assured. ‘’ Why not Minho? ‘’

Jinki's face lit up with surprise before it darkened with a frown.

‘’ He's not my type. ‘’

Jonghyun's shoulders relaxed unbeknownst to him, but his mind remained doubtful.

‘’ This doesn't make any sense... ‘’ He dismissed with a shake of his head.

‘’ You don't know me. So how can I be your type? ‘’

The words fell from his mouth sharply, making Jinki look back at him with shame, finally tearing his gaze away when his expression grew even more serious. 

‘’ I don't know what to say... ‘’ Jinki shyly admitted as he stared down at the counter.

Jonghyun felt a hybrid sense of satisfaction and sadness swell in his chest at the admission.

‘’ Maybe it's something as shallow as physical or sexual attraction, but to be honest, I really feel like it's more than that, ‘’ Jinki suddenly shared as he seemed to emerge from a deep train of thought.

‘’ I feel like if we got to know each other, we could... ‘’

Jonghyun felt his heart race at the sight of the brunette blushing again.

‘’ We could what? ‘’ he pressed as he forgot himself.

Jonghyun caught the slight waver that troubled the other's gaze, making him even more impatient.

‘’ We could fall in love. ‘’

                                                      ***

Love had always been a weird notion to Jonghyun. So weird that when the opportunity to experience it had knocked on his door, he almost hadn't answered.

Staying in with his imaginary precious puppies seemed like a far better and safe plan, but what Jonghyun realized was that love didn't just knock once and leave if ignored. It did whatever it took to get the attention it deserved.

Jonghyun finally gave in to the idea of considering their regular interactions as being something more than two people being polite with each other when Jinki held his hand one night after they came out of a movie theater. 

The acrobatics his heart did at that moment made him sure his final minutes were upon him before he realized his heart only seemed to go crazy like that when he was around Jinki.

The feeling scared the shit out of him, but the patience and care the other deployed towards him comforted him enough not to skip town and hide away forever.

It was another few weeks before Jonghyun's heart condition worsened. He literally felt it burst inside his chest when Jinki first kissed him on the doorstep of his mother's house. The only thing that saved him from not collapsing to the floor was Jinki's strong hold around his waist.

That same night, Jonghyun decided that his heart wouldn't have enough space for seven puppies and a full-grown man. 

One puppy and a full-grown man would do just fine.

That plan settled well within him until they had their first fight two weeks later. It was a misunderstanding about one of Jinki’s acquaintances, but before it could be cleared up, Jonghyun experienced the horrible pain of feeling his heart break in a million pieces. It took a while for it to hold together again, but with extra communication (which didn’t come to Jonghyun easy), reassuring kisses and time, it did.

And it changed. Jonghyun found himself being much more vulnerable and open which only made their connection deeper. In the process, he felt himself become more soft, needy and clingy around the other until he couldn’t get enough of the few hours they spent with each other almost every day.

One night, Jonghyun found himself asking the other to stay the night. It was his first time asking anyone to stay over.

‘’ Are you sure? ‘’ Jinki softly asked as he rubbed circles with his thumb over the other’s wrist.

They were standing in front of Jonghyun’s house again after an evening out to a restaurant and a follow-up at a small local bar.

Jonghyun had only had one drink, but still, he found himself blaming the alcohol for the words that left his mouth afterwards.

‘’ Yes, I think I’m ready. ‘’

He blushed furiously as Jinki’s eyes widened in shock. ‘’ You mean… ‘’

‘’ I don’t know… I just… I want you to stay, ‘’ Jonghyun sputtered as he fumbled with his own embarrassment.

‘’ Isn’t your family inside, I mean… ‘’

‘’ No, ‘’ Jonghyun quickly filled in. ‘’ My mom and sister went to visit family. ‘’

Jinki’s face relaxed before lighting up with a sweet smile. ‘’ I’ll gladly stay, baby. ‘’

Jonghyun felt his stupid, weak heart flip at the pet name. Before he could think more about it, he pulled the other inside and closed the door behind them.

That night Jonghyun finally let love inside. It spread through him like wildfire as it reached deep within him, making his heart stop momentarily before it exploded behind his eyes.

When he looked into Jinki’s eyes, he could see that his heart had exploded too.

                                                     ***

‘’ Hellooo! ‘’

Jonghyun abruptly came out of the daze he had inadvertently been plunged into only to see Minho’s lips curl into a wicked grin.

‘’ I know that face. ‘’

‘’ Huh? ‘’ Jonghyun let out, dumbfounded.

Minho chuckled. ‘’ Jinki took your innocence, huh? ‘’

Jonghyun’s eyes widened before he felt heat flush his face, making him look away and grab a cloth again.

‘’ I don’t know what you are talking about, ‘’ he feigned as his hand moved in a circular motion over the vinyl counter.

The other snickered at that before leaning as close as he could from the other side of the counter. ‘’ So…’’ He all but purred. ‘’ Was I right? Is he packing good stuff? ‘’

Jonghyun glared at his friend’s malicious grin, very tempted to wipe it off his smug face, but too discomforted by his body’s reaction to the question to actually go through with it. Plus, he was at work, so he had to stay professional.

‘’ That’s none of your fucking business, ‘’ he simply retorted.

‘’ Oh come on, Jjong. I tell you everything, ‘’ Minho wildly protested as Jonghyun turned the other way to sort out some utensils.

‘’ That’s your problem, not mine, ‘’ he curtly dismissed.

There was a pause, but Jonghyun knew better than to turn back around. That’s exactly what the other wanted.

‘’ So it’s like that, huh? ‘’ Minho finally said, his tone heavy with frustration. ‘’ Fine. I can leave. ‘’

Jonghyun rolled his eyes at the other’s childish antics before giving in to his pathetic threat.

‘’ Stop asking me stupid questions and I’ll stop ignoring you, ‘’ he indicated as if it were the most basic principle in the world.

Minho snorted. ‘’ You should be extra nice to me. I’m the reason you met Jinki, ‘’ he reminded.

‘’ How could I ever forget? ‘’ Jonghyun returned, exasperation clear in his voice. ‘’ You keep reminding us every chance you get.

‘’ Do you want a medal or something? ‘’ he then added when he saw Minho’s expectant look.

His grumpiness quickly subsided when his friend’s expression suddenly became sullen.

‘’ No, I don’t want a medal, Jjong, ‘’ the tall brunette squarely replied. ‘’ What I want is for things to stay the same between us, ‘’ he then shared before his lips tightened into a grim line.

Brows furrowed, Jonghyun immediately asked, ‘’ What do you mean? ‘’

‘’ I barely see you anymore, Jjongie, ‘’ Minho answered in the quietest voice Jonghyun had ever heard from him.

That made his stomach knot with guilt. ‘’ I’m sorry, Minho… I just-

‘’ You’re in love, ‘’ Minho completed in his stead as the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

‘’ And I’m so happy for you, I really am, ‘’ he went on to clear up the cloud of guilt he could see in his friend’s eyes.

‘’ Just don’t forget about your old pal Minho, ‘’ he finished, his smile still elusive.

‘’ I would never, ‘’ Jonghyun dismissed in a heartbeat, a little hurt that the other would ever think that. But he couldn’t blame him, he knew how he could be. That could only help remind him that he could do a better job at showing Minho how much he meant to him.

Minho’s face finally brightened into a real smile. ‘’ Great, ‘’ he acknowledged before going on excitedly.

‘’ When are you getting off, we could do something if you want… ‘’

Jonghyun offered him an apologetic look. ‘’ Um… Jinki’s supposed to come by later… ‘’

‘’ But we can do something this weekend. Whatever you want, ‘’ the pink-haired young man quickly proposed as he caught the immediate slump of the other’s shoulders.

That seemed enough to stop the wave of disappointment that had menaced to wash over the brunette.

‘’ Yaaay, ‘’ he cheered before laughing softly.

‘’ I’ll let you be then, I should actually be studying, ‘’ he then indicated, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

Jonghyun couldn’t help but laugh at that. ‘’ Yes, you should, ‘’ he encouraged. ‘’ Got any new study partners? ‘’

His teasing tone had Minho pouting. ‘’ No. I’m done with that. ‘’

Jonghyun brought a hand over his mouth as he laughed again. ‘’ Okay, if you say so, ‘’ he managed to utter once he settled a bit.

With a huff, the brunette said, ‘’ That’s my cue to leave. See you later, Jjong, ‘’ he added as his face relaxed into another smile.

Jonghyun smiled back. ‘’ See you soon, ‘’ he echoed before the other turned on his heel, walked towards the door and left.

For a few seconds, Jonghyun just stayed there, letting himself appreciate the fact that he was truly lucky to have such a friend in his life.

His eyes then travelled upwards to the clock before him as the image of another man he loved very much flashed in his mind. Excitement instantly tingled in his stomach as he realized that in less than two hours, he’d be able to see him again.

                                                      ***

Jonghyun didn’t think he had ever seen something more beautiful than Jinki’s smile. His heart always stopped whenever he witnessed it and right now was no exception. As the handsome brunette walked up to him with a grin that reached his eyes, he truly prayed that his heart would remember how to work.

Fortunately, he didn’t die in the seconds that followed even when Jinki wrapped his arms around his small waist.

‘’ How was work, baby? ‘’ Jinki softly asked, smile still dancing on his lips.

‘’ It was okay… I missed you, ‘’ Jonghyun immediately shared as he wrapped his arms around his neck.

‘’ I missed you too… a lot, ‘’ Jinki said as he pulled the smaller one a little closer.

A quiet gasp left Jonghyun as Jinki claimed his lips. He sighed at the softness of the other’s lips and the tightening hold around him before a moan tore from his throat when Jinki’s tongue found its way into the warmth of his mouth to meet his. One of his hands instinctively went to the back of the taller one’s neck as the kiss deepened.

Jonghyun didn’t even mind that they were in front of his workplace, not when he was finally getting what he had been craving for the past two days. Closeness.

He didn’t let go of him even when they had to pull away from the kiss to catch their breaths.

‘’ What do you want to do? ‘’ he quietly asked in the small space left between them, his chest slightly heaving.  

‘’ Whatever you want to do, ‘’ Jinki instantly replied, a sweet smile cracking his lips again.

Jonghyun averted his gaze as he felt himself blush. ‘’ I didn’t think of anything… ‘’

A soft laugh shook Jinki’s shoulders. ‘’ It’s okay, we can just walk a bit, it’s a beautiful evening. ‘’

Jonghyun nodded and a second later, they were walking side by side, their hands naturally finding each other's.

A comfortable silence settled between them, the fresh breeze of the fading day softly brushing over their skins as they basked in the simplicity of the moment.

An overwhelming sense of happiness took over the smaller one's body as he realized how perfect this moment was.

Under the darkening blue canvas that was the sky, adorned with accents of orange and pink, he was just a drop of life that had against all odds found his match amidst the ocean that was the billions of people on this planet.

The thought had a crooked smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his gaze mindlessly following the movement of his feet.

‘’ What are you smiling at? ‘’

The sudden inquiry made his heart jump inside his chest before he gave a look to his left. Meeting chocolate eyes, he said, ‘’ Nothing, I’m just… happy, ‘’ he pinpointed before a bashful smile swept across his lips.  

‘’ I hope I have something to do with that, ‘’ Jinki teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows.  

A soft laugh tumbled out of Jonghyun’s mouth. ‘’ You have everything to do with it, ‘’ he confirmed as he squeezed the other’s hand tighter.

The brunette grinned. ‘’ Same goes for me, Jjongie. ‘’

They kept on walking for a while, sharing smiles every few seconds, before the brunette brought them to a halt.

‘’ Oh, Jjongie, look, ‘’ he said as he pointed to the other side of the street.

The older one followed his gaze instantly. Embarrassment tightened his chest as he recognized the place.

‘’ Why would you even mention that? ‘’ Jonghyun reproached with a slight pout.

‘’ How could I not? ‘’ Jinki countered with a chuckle. ‘’ It’s where we had our first date. ‘’

Jonghyun snorted. ‘’ You called that a date? ‘’

‘’ Yeah, definitely, ‘’ Jinki answered on the spot. ‘’ After that, I knew I wanted to spend as much time as I could with you. ‘’

A furious blush colored the other’s cheeks as heat pulsed through his body. ‘’ Stop saying ridiculous things… ‘’

‘’ I’m not, ‘’ Jinki argued with a fond smile. ‘’ You were blushing a lot too that night and you were so damn cute, it was hard not to kiss you, ‘’ he reminisced as he brought his free hand up to caress Jonghyun’s cheek.

The latter’s lashes fluttered against his soft touch as he tried to calm the wild reaction of his heart.

‘’ I was a mess, ‘’ he persisted as he remembered how awkward he had been. That whole night had just been a stressful nightmare and he had been sure at that moment that the brunette would never want to see him again.

‘’ You were the most adorable mess then, ‘’ Jinki settled before planting a kiss on his pink shock of hair.  

‘’ Whatever, ‘’ Jonghyun brushed off, still battling with embarrassment.

Laughing a soft, breathy laugh, Jinki said, ‘’ We can always have a do-over if you want. It’s right there. ‘’

Jonghyun scrunched up his nose in disgust. ‘’ I’d rather not. They don’t even have good rum. ‘’

‘’ Oh right, ‘’ Jinki instantly recalled. ‘’ Yeah, let’s find some other place. ‘’

‘’ How about we go to your place? ‘’ Jonghyun proposed, his voice low.

‘’ Do you have anything in mind? ‘’ Jinki inquired not without a hint of mischievousness.

‘’ No… ‘’ Jonghyun’s voice trailed as he leaned a little closer, lips almost brushing the other’s ear. ‘’ Just wanna be alone with you. ‘’

He glanced on the slow bob of the taller one’s Adam’s apple as he pulled back a bit, the sight making his stomach flutter.

‘’ That sounds perfect, ‘’ Jinki settled with a slight strain of urgency in his voice.

The next second he was leading them the other way, almost dragging the smaller one into a fast walk as if they were going to be late somewhere.

Jonghyun fought back a laugh at the other’s eagerness. ‘’ There really is no rush. ‘’

‘’ Hmm, I will have to disagree with you on that one, ‘’ Jinki replied, eyes set straight ahead.

Jonghyun now couldn’t help breaking into laughter at his boyfriend’s serious expression. The latter looked his way and a second later, his face relaxed into a smile.

‘’ I’m glad I was right, ‘’ Jinki pondered out loud.

‘’ Hmm? ‘’ Jonghyun hummed as a cute frown creased his brow.

‘’ About us, ‘’ the brunette shared. ‘’ Being with you … feels amazing, ‘’ he went on, his dark eyes locking with paler ones.  

Jonghyun felt himself blush again. ‘’ I’m glad you were right too, ‘’ he said, his voice all but a whisper.  

Jinki’s smile made him smile again before they both looked ahead, minds basking in the promise of another lovely evening together.

Jonghyun couldn’t help but think that love was still weird, love was still scary, but being with Jinki made all of that pale in comparison to what love felt to him right now.

It just felt…

So nice.

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

AFF   AO3

[heart-eyes-kippen]

‘Everything is Red’: Prologue

Hi! So @green-lemonboys and I have been working on this chaptered tyrus AU for the past few weeks! Surprise! We decided to post the prologue on here as well as ao3 to gage reactions and determine whether we should continue this fic. 

If it’s continued, we will alternate between writing chapters - I wrote this prologue, Smriti would write Chapter 1, I would write Chapter 2 and so on. 

Here’s the summary:

"Cyrus Goodman and TJ Kippen weren’t desperate by any means, they just happened to find comfort in old, run-down motels where people wouldn’t dare come looking for them. There was no particular reason for this - or so they would tell you. Faded motels just had a certain charm about them, Cyrus would say with one of his naturally bright smiles."

~

The fall of 2006 finds TJ and Cyrus on the run from the law, seeking the highs associated with risk wherever they can and maybe even learning a thing or two about love and the inevitability of fate.

Warnings for this chapter (and for the whole fic):

~Depictions of violence, death and crime (not graphic, we will be focusing a lot more heavily on the psychological aspects of these things)

~Gun usage 

If you have any concerns about potential trigger warnings, please feel free to message me!!

Anyway, all that aside, here’s the prologue!! Let us know if we should continue this <3 

~

Palace Motel had a name that would suggest many things - luxury, comfort, wealth. It just so happened that this building was the complete opposite of those things. With cracked brick walls and graffiti-littered doors, which creaked obnoxiously upon each opening, it didn’t exactly live up to its name by any means. It was notorious for its bad track record with crime, and only the most desperate people generally sought shelter there.

 Cyrus Goodman and TJ Kippen weren’t desperate by any means, they just happened to find comfort in old, run-down motels where people wouldn’t dare come looking for them. There was no particular reason for this - or so they would tell you. Faded motels just had a certain charm about them, Cyrus would say with one of his naturally bright smiles.

 It was late into the evening when the pair finally collapsed onto their double bed. They were used to claustrophobic rooms like these - ones with beige walls, creaky taps that had a tendency to stop working and small windows. Cyrus was looking out one of the said windows, admiring the night sky. It was clear, with bright stars beginning to dot it. He looked up to TJ, knowing that he would likely be appreciating the view too. TJ was always telling Cyrus how comforting he found the night sky, how it gave him a sense of anonymity that day time could just never deliver.

 Their darkened room was illuminated occasionally by the faint glow emanating from Cyrus’ camera screen. Everything felt peaceful, and that wasn’t something Cyrus could say he often felt.

 TJ gave him a fond smile, his hair unruly in the most breathtaking way possible as he shuffled even closer to him, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Cyrus’ neck.

 “Babe,” he complained. “Stop looking at the photos you took today.”

 Cyrus gave him a teasing smile, bringing the camera up purposely to snap a quick photo of him.

 “Hey!” he spluttered, playfully taking the camera away from him.

 Cyrus watched as TJ scooted off of bed and got to his feet, wandering over to the small kitchen counter and pointed placing the camera down there.

 Cyrus had a smirk on his lips as the boy turned back to him, a hand on his hips.

 “That’s staying there,” TJ said sternly, but Cyrus could see the soft smile that was threatening to appear on his face as he walked back over to the bed, gracefully lowering himself down next to Cyrus. He had become nuanced in the way he interpreted TJ’s facial expressions by now and, often to TJ’s dismay, he was able to read him somewhat like an open book. He supposed that spending so much time with someone did that to a person.

 “Happy now? No distractions,” Cyrus teased, rolling over to look up fondly at TJ.

 He just smiled and nodded, placing a gentle hand under Cyrus’ chin and tipping his head up slightly so he could lean down and place a lingering kiss on his lips. Cyrus’ eyes fluttered shut almost instinctively, melting into the touch right away and shuffling even closer to TJ. He wrapped his arms around TJ’s waist, burying his head in the taller man’s chest and letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

 He had a tendency to forget just how much tension he held throughout the day, always feeling it seep right out of him when TJ brought him close like this. He felt TJ’s eyelashes flutter against his skin, pulling an embarrassing giggle from him as it always did.

 Motel rooms like these always seemed to be freezing at night, and Cyrus had regrettably never dealt well with cold. He snuggled further into TJ, trying to soak in as much of his body heat as was physically possible.

 “Cold?” TJ asked him knowingly, smiling when Cyrus just let out an annoyed huff.

 He took that response as a ‘yes’, briefly sitting up and grabbed one of the blankets that lay in a heap on the end of the bed. He threw it over Cyrus, smiling slightly as he watched him wriggle his way up and poke his head out from the top.

 “There you go. Warmth,” said TJ, laying back down and snuggling under the blanket beside him.

 Cyrus always appreciated nights like these - ones where they could lay together and feel the world around them gradually melt away. TJ gave the most comforting hugs imaginable, and that proved to be particularly useful when Cyrus was having a bad day. Sometimes they would spend hours talking the night away, but on a lot of occasions they would just lay there, wrapped up in one another, finding solace in one another after the day’s events.

 It was 9:30pm when TJ began to shift restlessly, eventually sitting up in bed and looking down at Cyrus in a somewhat pleading fashion.

 Cyrus raised a curious eyebrow. “What is it?”

 TJ just hummed, taking Cyrus’ hand and intertwining their fingers. After all these years the action still managed to turn Cyrus’ heart turn into a butterfly, fluttering about wildly in his chest. TJ, the asshole, knew this well.

 “I’m hungry. Wanna get something from the vending machine downstairs?”

 He leant down to press another kiss to Cyrus’ lips for good measure, clearly having noticed the hesitant look on his face.

 “Come on, baby. How much trouble can we cause?”

 Cyrus let out a huff and pulled his hand away, looking stern.

 “You know it’s safer up here,” he argued.

 TJ just bit his lip though, his eyes wide, silently pleading with him. Cyrus let out a heavy sigh. It was always like this; TJ desperately chasing freedom in any way he could, Cyrus holding him back, always cautious. Their dynamic had been this way as long as he could remember, and he had gotten used to the varying ways TJ would attempt to play to his weaknesses. It still didn’t mean he was immune though, as demonstrated by the words that fell from his lips next.

 “No side-quests. No distractions. Down to the vending machine, then back up. Got it?”

 TJ smirked at that, raising a playful eyebrow at him as he untangled himself from the blankets and got up. “You’re cute when you’re being bossy,” was all he said, smiling wide at Cyrus’ responding huff.

 One of TJ’s most infuriating qualities had to be his effortless ability to make Cyrus’ heart melt. He had never known anyone in his life that could affect him in the way TJ did without even thinking about it and this was as much a curse as it was a blessing. He loved TJ Kippen. He loved TJ Kippen so much it often felt all-consuming, swallowing him whole in a way that left him feeling somewhat helpless, gasping for air. He loved tracing lines between the freckles on TJ’s face, playing with his hair, listening to his rants about cinematography and why life wasn’t all black and white. It filled him to the brim with contentment, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even if he was a smug asshole sometimes.

 “Ready?” TJ asked him, stumbling slightly as he tugged on a coat. Stolen, of course - Cyrus just couldn’t remember where from.

 “No,” Cyrus deadpanned, reluctantly getting up from the bed and moving over to the kitchen counter.

 “Aren’t you fun,” TJ teased, stepping up to the boy and tipping his head slightly to the side. The corners of Cyrus’ lips twitched upwards slightly, and he couldn’t help but bring his hands up to smooth over TJ’s chest, up to his shoulders, letting them hang loosely around his neck. It was an affectionate gesture, and it had TJ’s smile melting into something softer as he leaned down to press a brief kiss to Cyrus’ lips.

 Cyrus couldn’t deny the excitement beginning to swell in his chest as they separated, turning towards the door. There was a reason they lived the way they did after all - seeking thrills, even as simple as this one. Cyrus had become somewhat dependent upon the adrenaline that would surge through his veins whenever they took risks. He would never admit this to anyone apart from TJ though; that was a secret he kept gladly buried within himself. He lived for the things they did just as much as TJ did; he had just become skilled at hiding it.

 He bit his lip, and TJ seemed to sense the direction his thoughts had taken because he gave the latter a smug smile as he approached the door.

 “It’s just a vending machine, babe,” he said, “nothing scandalous about that.”

 Cyrus rolled his eyes and grabbed their bag of essentials from the counter before following TJ out. He always had this bag on him, to the point where he’d go into a full-blown panic if it left his sight for too long. TJ wasn’t carrying a bag at all, but Cyrus knew that was because he preferred to use baggier clothing to conceal the things he carried on him.

 The hallway outside their room was dark, with varying shadows dancing across the walls due to the flickering light above their head. Cyrus watched a faint smile flicker over TJ’s lips - he lived for darkness, always referring to light as something unnecessarily harsh. Where darkness was comforting, light was exposing, and this belief is what kept them in dingy motels like these. Silence like the one they were currently experiencing as they walked towards the stairwell, with the echoes of their footsteps bouncing loudly off the walls, would’ve been eerie to the average person. Cyrus Goodman and TJ Kippen weren’t average people.

 “Surely there has to be laws surrounding the need for elevators in motels,” TJ mused, glancing back briefly at Cyrus as they began to descend down the stairs.

 “There are laws surrounding a lot of things TJ,” came the teasing response.

 TJ glanced back at him again, his expression amused, but he didn’t respond otherwise. Silence fell for a minute or so as they continued to descend down the stairs, which had quite apparently been painted a long while ago.

 “That store owner from today was pretty cooperative,” TJ mentioned casually, which had Cyrus’ heart leaping in his chest.

 “TJ!” he whisper-yelled, wondering to himself why he was shocked by the latter’s recklessness at this point.

 Cyrus was one to tread carefully, turn a situation over in his head, calculate his actions to an almost excessive extent. His manipulation, although just as effective as TJ’s, was incredibly subtle. His smiles were sweet and his looks were soft, giving other people the illusion of someone who could be trusted. He took risks - of course he did - but he was always precise and calculated in taking them. If Cyrus a breeze, washing over people without them realising, then TJ was most definitely fire. There was nothing calculated about the way TJ took risks. It was sporadic; out of nowhere, always stemming from some form of uncontrolled emotion. He was rarely one to think - he just acted, and sometimes Cyrus found himself trying to remember if it had always been like that, or if this was TJ’s way of trying to distance himself from the things he had done.

 “I’m just saying! He was probably the most cooperative person we’ve had yet,” TJ continued, keeping his voice somewhat hushed to Cyrus’ relief.

 Cyrus just rolled his eyes, knowing well TJ couldn’t see him.

 “I can’t believe you,” he huffed out as they approached the door to the main lobby.

 Much like all of the doors at that motel, it creaked open loudly as though it hadn’t been tended to in years. They stepped out in a relatively small lobby, with a front counter that was clearly closed up for the night. They walked past the sliding glass doors, only to find that they didn’t budge at all.  

 “This place closes up early,” TJ mused.

 Cyrus nodded in agreement, spinning around on the spot as he took in his darkened surroundings. If possible, this place was even less lit then the stairwell had been. A fake potted plant had been callously pushed into the corner of the lobby, clearly in attempt to add some element of seeming luxury to the place. Shivers wracked through him then, and he brought his arms up to warm himself as best he could.

 “Let’s just get some food and get back upstairs, it’s freezing here,” he complained.

 TJ nodded and walked over to the run-down looking vending machine, pushing into another corner of the lobby. “Feel like anything?” he asked as he peered through the glass.

 Cyrus just shrugged. “Some chips, maybe?”

TJ nodded again and fished around in his pockets for loose change, pulling some out a moment later and inserting them into the machine. “Number...7,” he mumbled to himself.

 Cyrus was lingering a few feet behind him, watching as a bag of chips was slowly released.

 “You’re reckless, you know that?” he asked suddenly, prompting TJ to turn around with a smile.

 “I do, yeah. You’ve told me,” he responded playfully, stepping up to Cyrus and attempting to reel him in. The latter twirled away from his grasp, which had TJ rolling his eyes fondly.

 “You’re gonna get us caught one day doing what you did to that guy,” Cyrus continued, his voice hushed now; more serious.

 TJ’s playful smile eased into something more understanding. He stepped forward again, bringing a gentle hand up to cup the side of Cyrus’ face. “Hey. We’re fine okay? You’re just being paranoid.”

 “I don’t know, TJ…” he trailed off uncertainly, watching as he walked back over to the vending and collected his bag of chips.

 “We’re fine baby, I promise,” TJ repeated, wrapping an arm around Cyrus’ shoulders as they made their way back over to the stairwell. He opened the door, wincing slightly as it creaked open on its hinges.

 TJ stepped inside, and Cyrus’ heart leapt into his throat when he came to an abrupt, seemingly instinctive halt. His shoulders were tensed, and Cyrus could already feel panic beginning to course through him. He pushed in beside TJ, prepared to face pretty much anyone but the old, frail looking man that was standing there.

 Only Cyrus would’ve been able to pick up on the brief panic that flitted across TJ’s face before it was smoothed over with his normal confidence.

 “Hello sir,” TJ said conversationally, stepping casually up to the staircase. The man’s eyes were sunken, knowing in a way that had an anxious pit forming in Cyrus’ stomach. He was a lot shorter than both them, slightly hunched over as though standing in itself was an effort for him. Cyrus took a deep, calming breath, following TJ hesitantly up the first few stairs. Adrenaline was kicking in now, with his heart hammering away in his chest and his blood rushing in his ears.

 Had he heard them? Surely not.

 Cyrus was able to maintain his composure until they reached the second flight of stairs, something he had become particularly adept at over the past few years.

 It was then that they heard a yell; one that had Cyrus’ blood running cold.

 “I know what game you guys are playing!”

 The old man’s voice had been so rough; so unsettling, that for a moment Cyrus froze. TJ immediately stepped back down, looking somewhat shocked at the outburst.

 “Excuse me?” he asked, his voice heavy with implication. It was his way of saying ‘you might want to rethink what you just said’, but it clearly seemed to fall on deaf ears because the man just yelled out again, his eyes bulging dangerously now. The sight only added to the uneasy pit forming in Cyrus’ stomach; one that lingered uncomfortably as he stepped down another few stairs.

 “We don’t know what you’re trying to say sir,” he stated calmly, ghosting a hand over TJ’s shoulder as he stepped in front of him.

 They could most certainly run away and never look back; the man didn’t look as though he’d be particularly hard to outrun, but the heart-stopping possibility of him telling other people about this incident kept TJ and Cyrus firmly rooted to the spot. They couldn’t risk that in the slightest.

 “I heard you two!” the man continued somewhat hysterically, his breathing becoming noticeably laboured.

 Cyrus nodded slowly, trying to seem sympathetic. “I’m sorry, I’m really not sure what you think you heard but-”

 “I heard you two!”

 TJ let out a heavy sigh, exchanging an exasperated glance with Cyrus as he descended down another stair, slowly closing the gap between him and the man.

 “Look, we don’t want any trouble-” TJ immediately stopped speaking then, watching intently as the man pulled a phone from his pocket and began tapping away frantically. He brandished it in in the air a few moments later as though it was a weapon, and Cyrus’ heart sank as he realised what numbers had likely been dialled into that keypad.

 “Okay, you definitely don’t wanna do that,” TJ began, panic begin to crack his cool exterior slightly as stepped down yet another stair.

 It wasn’t often they were faced with unplanned situations like these, but when they were it always a highly stressful experience; more so than what they faced day-to-day.

 Silence fell for a moment. The tension in the air was thick, suffocating Cyrus slightly as he stood there, completely unmoving. Despite the man’s yelling, the motel remained eerily silent. Cyrus couldn’t make out many things amongst the darkness apart from TJ and the man, who appeared to be engaging in a staring contest of some kind. His heart was pounding now and his hands were shaking violently, but he didn’t dare move. Or breathe for that matter.

 The man hurriedly tapped the call button, yelling frantically into the speaker as it went through, and Cyrus felt his body freeze up for a brief moment. The next few seconds happened so quickly Cyrus barely had time to process anything but the deafening, heart-stopping sound of a gun being fired, followed by the dull thud of a body against the concrete floor. His face twisted from one of shock to one of horror as realised what had happened, tears stinging at his eyes as he was tugged back down the stairs.

 He hadn’t prepared for this tonight. He had not prepared for this tonight.

 “We have to go now, okay?” came TJ’s voice a moment later, so gentle in comparison to what he had just done.

 Cyrus tried his best to shake himself out of it, unable to respond as he allowed himself to be pulled out of the door and into the lobby. He felt distant from everything around him, felt as though it wasn’t really him pushing the red button and running out of those glass double doors. All he could feel was TJ’s hand in his, providing a warm contrast to his own as they sprinted down the practically deserted sidewalk. Cyrus felt relief flood his system at the realisation that TJ still seemed somewhat level-headed, hurriedly approaching an old-looking model of car parked in a careless fashion on the side of the road.

 “Cyrus baby, can I have the bag?” he asked.

 He nodded and hastily handed it over, watching as TJ fumblingly unzipped it and began rummaging around inside. The sudden, unmistakable wailing of police sirens disturbed the neighbourhood around them, creating an atmosphere of panic that had TJ frantically grabbing a wooden doorstop from the bag and handing the bag back over to Cyrus. It was freezing out; icy winds were washing over them and tinging their faces red, but neither of them were worried about that in the slightest.

 TJ forcefully wedged the doorstop in between the car roof and the door, which was usually something that took multiple attempts, but adrenaline seemed to be on his side because after a few heaves, pushing the palm of hand down against the doorstop, he was able to wrench the car door open with a loud metallic sounding bang. Cyrus moved automatically from there, fuelled entirely by panic as the police sirens grew nearer. He climbed inside and rummaged around for a screwdriver, handing it over to TJ as he entered on the driver’s side.

 They were both well aware that jamming a screwdriver into the keyhole would permanently damage it, but they were almost entirely out of options. They were too low on fuel in their previous car to risk going back to it, and they had been due for a new car for what seemed like months. They’d likely only be using this one in particular only once, but that was a consequence they would happily accept; particularly with police sirens looming behind them like an insistent fog as TJ slammed down on the accelerator, driving away from Palace Motel as fast as he possibly could.

 Cyrus didn’t relax in the slightest until about half an hour later, when the distant sounds of police sirens had faded into nothing. Once some of his blind panic had subsided, there was room for anger to swell up in chest. TJ’s recklessness could’ve costed them this time, and he honestly wasn’t sure if this had sunk in for him yet.

 “You okay?” TJ asked quietly.

 There had been silence in the car up until that point, and Cyrus was planning on keeping it that way so he folded his arms stubbornly and looked out the window.

 “I know you’re probably mad,” TJ sighed. “But...we got away, right?”

 No response. There were more stars beginning to dot the night sky now, but Cyrus couldn’t even fully appreciate the sight because of the anger he could feel bubbling in him, rising in his throat and settling there. That night had been one of the only times since their first that Cyrus had been so impacted by a gunshot that he completely blanked out, following TJ blindly and feeling as though he was moments away from throwing up. Maybe it had just been because of the unexpectedness of it all, but that time had just felt...closer...than the others had.

 TJ sighed again, glancing briefly over at Cyrus. “Hey - our next stop is Oceanside Motel. That’s cool, right?”

 Cyrus leant his head against the window with a soft thud, letting his eyes fall shut.

 “Sure,” he mumbled, and that was the only word TJ received for the next few hours.

 ~

 “The bastards got away again,” Officer Freemont said with a sigh, leaning back against the police car door as he took another slow drag of his cigarette.

 “How?” asked the women stood in front of him, barely concealing her disgust as he exhaled.

 “Carjacking most likely. The old man in there got rushed to hospital, but I think he’s a goner. Too much blood loss,” he continued.

 She nodded slowly, feeling frustration welling up in her chest at the prospect of another grand escape from the unnamed duo.

 “I suppose you’ll be on it then, huh Driscoll?”

 She nodded again, a confident smile at the corner of her lips. “Oh yeah. I’m on it.”