#like. certain events happen later than usual

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Had some ideas about Proto Vox and Niffty while driving

Vox and Niffty meet when Vox's boss hires her to make his clothes/costumes. She's not under contract with his overlord (not under contract with anyone, in fact); she's just freelancing, so she only comes by the compound once every few weeks.

The two of them form a tentative bond over the hardships they face due to their demonic forms, and their shared ambitions to eventually rise above their stations.

Vox is hamstrung by being locked into a deal with his boss and only ever being allowed to leave the base in her company. Niffty is just a regular sinner with no real power, but she uses her seamstress job and unassuming appearance to network and collect/trade information.

Vox is privy to tons of information about his overlord's business dealings and private affairs since he's almost always with her. Up until this point, he hadn't been able to make use of that information due to his limited mobility, but now he has Niffty. He shares confidential information with her, and she carries it back outside. She then trades it to others in exchange for favors/assets/information, which she shares with Vox whenever she sees him next.

They're able to keep this arrangement up for a few years. Niffty's starting to accumulate some power, but Vox is still stuck under his boss' thumb. One day, something bad goes down between Vox and his boss, and he confides in Niffty that he needs to get out of this fucking place; he feels like he's gonna snap if he doesn't. Sympathizing with her friend, Niffty decides to take a risk. She spreads a rumor that Vox's boss has done/is planning on doing something to slight the Radio Demon.

Just as she'd hoped, Alastor shows up at Vox's overlord's compound and kills her, broadcasting her screams to the city. Niffty is excited, not only because there's now a power vacuum that she can take advantage of but also because Vox is free. However, he's nowhere to be found. Niffty assumes he split to go strike out on his own and tries not to resent him for not getting in contact with her (and hopes that she didn't accidentally get him killed by sending the Radio Demon after the woman whose company he was always in).

Years pass, and Niffty builds up her business, eventually achieving overlord status. At an event, she happens to cross paths with Alastor... and Vox! She's thrilled to see him again (and that he's not dead). It turns out that Alastor took an interest in him when he went to kill his boss, and Vox has been with him ever since. Things were a bit rocky at first, but after a while, the two of them became friends– actual friends, not a master and servant like Vox and his old boss had been. With Alastor's guidance, Vox has been building up power of his own. He recently discovered that he can modify his body, and has just gotten his first augmentation: a pair of neon blue claws (which look suspiciously similar to Alastor's, but Niffty doesn't mention that). The two of them agree to stay in touch and possibly do business together now that they've got more than just information to offer each other.

Vox and Niffty remain friends, occasionally meeting up for business-related things or just to chat. Vox slowly upgrades more and more parts of his body. Niffty's happy for him that he's finally able to gain some control over the form he hated. She jokes with him that she's jealous; he gets to change his body however he wants, but she's stuck looking this way forever. Do ladybugs go through metamorphosis? However, things are starting to get tense between Vox and Alastor. She can't tell if it's because of the upgrades, Vox's increasing confidence and success, or something else.

Eventually, Vox and Alastor fall out. Niffty is just as shocked as the rest of the city when Vox emerges from their fight not only alive, but having forced Alastor to retreat. Yes, it was a stalemate and Vox came out of it the worse for wear, but it was still something no one else had been able to do before. While she knows the split from Alastor hurt him deeply, Niffty is happy for Vox that he's suddenly in the spotlight, ready to claim the power he always craved in a body that feels right to him.

Alastor has a dilemma now: he wants to make Vox pay for ruining things between them and daring to try to compete with him, but he doesn't want to kill Vox. He's also curious about a certain ability of his that he's aware of but has yet to fully explore. The solution to both problems presents itself in the form of Niffty. While she and Vox truly aren't that close, she's an easy target, and Alastor's been feeling spiteful these past few months.

Vox is shaken by Niffty's "death," but it does nothing to dissuade him from the path he's on– quite the opposite. However, he's horrified when he learns about Alastor's new maid. Seeing Niffty, a clever and driven woman who he'd once commiserated with over their pathetic demonic forms, reduced to a hyper, childish freak is like something out of a nightmare. Vox could hear the message Alastor was trying to send loud and clear: "If I can do this to her, I can do it to you too." The thought of losing everything and truly becoming the fool everyone had once assumed him to be was terrifying, but Vox's pride and hatred of Alastor would not allow him to back down. He took measures to protect himself from his former friend and continued working to build his soon-to-be empire.

When Vox and Niffty reunite at the hotel, neither them are in the right headspace to process what's wrong. However, there's a little twinge of... something deep within them both. Something like sorrow.

[byanyan]

byan disappears for two days but instead of emerging strung out and skittish like usual, their hands and arms are covered in paint and ink stains and they're a little distant but hungry as hell

[parkerslatte]

Fated Meetings

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Since the babysitter Y/N usually hires had to cancel last minute, Y/N is forced to take her four year old daughter to a ball in the Autumn Court. While Y/N gathers drinks for her and her daughter, she finds her missing and in the arms of a certain High Lord.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N held onto her daughter, Sapphira’s hand tightly as she and the rest of the Inner Circle entered the ballroom. It was not ideal to bring Sapphira along to such a high profile event and it was not a good idea to expose her to such powerful fae at only the young age of five. But Y/N had no choice. The usual babysitter was away in another court and with no one she could leave Sapphira with at the last minute, Y/N was forced to bring her along. 

Of course, Sapphira hadn’t minded in the slightest. When she was born Rhys had spoiled her with glittering gowns fit for a princess. No matter how hard Y/N insisted he did not need to give her small little family anything, Rhys insisted. With nowhere to wear her elaborate gowns, Sapphira only wore them around her own bedroom and whenever Y/N read her a princess story. The young girl always pictured herself within the story, dancing with a handsome prince. Once Y/N told her she could wear one of her gowns to an event, Y/N was sure she had never seen her daughter so excited. 

Y/N glanced down at Sapphire and smiled at her daughter. The young girl’s gaze constantly bounced between everything that moved and glittered. But Y/N couldn’t blame her, she was doing the exact same thing. It was her first time in the Autumn Court and it was nothing if not beautiful. Even more beautiful than Velaris, Y/N thought. 

As the Inner Circle branched off around the ballroom, Y/N looked to her daughter. “Do you want a drink?”

“I want to dance!” Sapphira exclaimed. 

Y/N looked to the dancefloor and found it vacant, with the exception of a singular elderly couple. Y/N did not want to risk Sapphira being so exposed like that. 

“What about later?” Y/N suggested. “They might play that music you love later.”

Sapphira thought about it for a second, her brain ticking. Y/N would have loved to know her thought process. 

“Okay, mummy,” Sapphira said.

Y/N smiled at her daughter and squeezed her hand lightly. “Let’s get you a drink.”

Y/N led Sapphira to the drinks table and reached for two cups of water. If Y/N did not have Sapphira with her, she would have indulged in the champagne that was being offered. But tonight Y/N wanted to be on high alert in case anything happened to Sapphira. 

Y/N pulled Sapphira to the side of the room and leaned against the wall while she sat down on the floor. People around her glanced back at the two, some with disgust and Y/N glared at them. 

“Y/N?” A voice startled Y/N as she lightly jumped back. 

Y/N turned to the source of the voice and she smiled. “Lucien!”

Y/N wrapped her arms around the youngest Vanserra and greeted him warmly. She had always liked talking to Lucien and she always enjoyed how he was around Sapphira. Y/N knew of the hard time he had settling into the Night Court so she always made sure to make him feel welcome. 

“I have not seen you in forever!” Y/N exclaimed, stepping back from Lucien. “Is the Day Court treating you well?”

Lucien smiled. “As well as ever. I’m currently bouncing between there and here. Ever since Eris became High Lord, he made one of his priorities to repair our relationship.”

“And how is that working out?” Y/N questioned.

Lucien sighed, though it was content. “Surprisingly well, considering everything.”

“It’s good he is working on fixing everything between you,” Y/N said. 

“After he explained everything, I feel as if I understood him better,” Lucien said. “I could see hints of the brother who used to play with me to distract me from Beron when I was a child.”

Y/N smiled. “I think you would have been a difficult child.”

Lucien gasped. “I was not. I believe I was quite delightful, perhaps even more delightful than your own child.”

“You could never be more delightful than Sapphira,” Y/N said, smiling. “She is the sweetest child in the whole world.”

“I cannot argue with that,” Lucien said, a glint in his eye. “How is she? I haven’t seen her in a while.”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean? She’s right here–”

The space where Sapphira was sitting on the floor was now vacant. All that was left was the cup of water that was still full. Y/N’s heart began to beat faster as panic rose within her. 

“Sapphira!” Y/N exclaimed, scanning the room for any sign of her daughter. 

“I can go and see if she has left the ballroom,” Lucien said, suddenly serious. “Do you want me to inform Azriel? He could probably find her quickly.”

“No, do not inform anyone from the Inner Circle. If they find out she is missing, it will turn into a bloodbath here and I don’t want Sapphira seeing that,” Y/N said. 

Lucien nodded before taking off. Y/N did the same and began the search for her daughter. 

***

It had been roughly five minutes or Y/N thought before a young maid tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Yes,” Y/N said, quite sharply. 

The maid flinched slightly but did not back away. “I believe I have just passed your daughter in the gardens, just through those doors there. She looked an awful lot like you.”

Y/N looked at the large glass doors leading to the beautiful gardens outside. Of course her daughter would sneak away to one of the most beautiful places in the court. Y/N said a quick thank you to the maid before she quickly left in the direction of the doors. 

As she slipped out, the sound of the ballroom faded away and was replaced by the slight breeze and distant chatter. One of the voices extremely familiar. Y/N frowned and hurried in the direction of the noise. As soon as Sapphira was safely back in her arms, she was leaving the court immediately. 

“See those hills over there?” The unfamiliar voice asked softly.

“Yes,” Sapphira answered.

“Those hills are special because they are home to the rarest flowers in the whole of Prythian,” the voice said. A masculine voice. 

Y/N only walked faster. 

“See at a certain time every night, they glow, not for long but long enough to light up the entire hill.”

Sapphira gasped. “I want to go there!”

Y/N closed in on the pair. The figure was holding her daughter in his arms and Y/N wanted nothing more than to put an arrow through his head. She was not very good at wielding weapons, preferring to do the healing of a wound rather than inflict it, but if he did not put her daughter down, she would suddenly become the best archer in the whole of Prythian. 

The man chuckled. “You will need to ask your mother. Speaking of which, you should go back inside–”

“That is right, Sapphira. Get away from him,” Y/N spoke up. 

As soon as Y/N spoke, the man turned around and Y/N gasped. The man holding her daughter was none other than the High Lord himself. Eris Vanserra. 

“High Lord,” Y/N said, dipping her head. “I didn’t know–”

“Y/N, please, there is no need for formalities,” Eris said and set Sapphira down on the floor. 

“How do you know my name?” Y/N questioned.

Eris smiled softly and Y/N swore it was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. “Well my little brother speaks of you a lot and this one,” Eris nodded his head to Sapphira who was brushing down her gown, “speaks a lot about you.”

“Mummy, can I stay outside with Eris, please? He is really nice!” Sapphira said, running up to Y/N and tugged on the bottom of her dress. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, briefly glancing at Eris. “I’m sure he is busy.”

“In fact I am quite free,” Eris said. “I dread to go back indoors.”

Y/N stepped closer to Eris. She had never spoken to him before. Though the Inner Circle have spoken about him a lot, none of the comments were too positive. Though the demeanour of the male standing before her contrasted the image she had conjured up in her head. 

“Isn’t this whole ordeal for you?” Y/N questioned. “Isn’t that the whole reason me and my daughter were dragged here?”

“Dragged?” Eris questioned. “I believe your daughter was more than ecstatic to come tonight.”

Y/N looked down at her daughter. “How much did you tell him? You have only been gone ten minutes.”

“She did not stop talking,” Eris said. “Barely let me get a word in.”

“She is normally shy around new people,” Y/N said as her daughter stepped around her legs and closer to Eris. 

“I’m the eldest of seven children,” Eris said, “I’m good with kids.”

“Please can we stay out here a little longer, mummy? I like it here!” Sapphira said, pulling Y/N closer to Eris.

Despite the darkness, Y/N couldn’t help but admire Eris’s beauty as she inched closer to him. His copper hair was immaculately styled on the top of his head, a single strand falling in his eyes that she itched to push back. 

“I suppose we can stay here a little longer,” Y/N muttered.

Sapphira expressed her delight while Eris only smirked. “Perfect. I can show the two of you around the gardens.”

“In the dark?” Y/N challenged.

“You seemed to admire something else in the darkness,” Eris said, his voice loud enough for only Y/N to hear. “Though I can’t guarantee that the gardens are as beautiful as your view currently.”

Y/N flushed and stepped away from Eris. “Well, show the way, High Lord.”

Eris smiled and held out his arm for Y/N to take. “It would be impolite of me to not offer you my arm.”

Y/N glared at him before wrapping her arm around his. Sapphira walked just ahead of them, eager to see the rest of the gardens. 

***

Y/N watched Sapphira run around between all of the hedges fondly, she had never seen her daughter look so happy. Currently, her and Eris were situated on a bench, he lounged upon in, completely relaxed. His jacket was unbuttoned and the crown that was situated on the top of his head was in Sapphira’s hands. 

“We should get back inside soon,” Y/N said, turning to face Eris. 

“You said that ten minutes ago,” Eris teased, crossing one of his legs over the other. 

Y/N flushed once more and turned to face her daughter, who stopped to admire a large rose bush. “I know, but she is so happy out here. She has always been a happy child, but out here…it's different. Our small apartment doesn’t have a garden so Sapphira doesn’t really have anywhere to play.”

Eris studied her for a moment. “What do you do for a living, Y/N? I don’t believe Lucien has ever brought it up.”

“I’m a healer,” Y/N replied. “I help out the Inner Circle quite a lot.”

“You speak about it like you are not part of it,” Eris remarked.

“I’m not,” Y/N replied. “I just attend any matters in other courts in case a healer is needed urgently. I’m not particularly close with anyone except Azriel, he is the one who introduced me to Rhys and Feyre.”

Eris let his gaze fall to Sapphira. “And Sapphira? I assume she is not a healer.”

Y/N laughed. “No, and she would make an awful healer when she grows up, and she has never taken an interest in it. I didn’t have a choice but to bring her tonight, my usual babysitter is in the Winter Court visiting family.”

Eris smiled and Y/N was sure that the image of it would be burned into her memory. “I assume her father is busy.”

The smile from Y/N’s face faltered. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen him since the moment I knew I was pregnant with Sapphira.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Eris apologised. “I didn’t know.”

Y/N gave him a tight lipped smile. “Not many people do. We were together for three years and when he noticed my shift in scent, he was gone before I even realised what was happening. Only Azriel knows the real truth, and now you do too.”

“Well I say that he missed out,” Eris said, leaning closer to Y/N, “on an amazing daughter and her gorgeous mother.”

Y/N didn’t look away from him, in fact her gaze fell to his lips. But just as she caught herself she looked back to his eyes, only to find a hint of amusement in them. “Well, if he stuck around then I wouldn’t be talking to a rather handsome High Lord, would I?”

This time, Y/N was the one to surprise Eris. He cleared his throat and looked away. “We should go back inside.”

“Look who’s eager to get away now?” Y/N teased. 

Eris tilted his head as he leaned closer. “Sweetheart, I would need to be dragged kicking and screaming to be pulled away from you. But this whole event is still about me and there are most likely many guests wondering where I have been.”

“I–”

“Mummy!” Sapphira exclaimed. “Can we go and dance now? You said I could dance later.”

Sapphira ran to where Y/N and Eris were sitting, still clutching Eris’s crown. Y/N stood from the bench, her arm brushing Eris as she did so, she hadn’t realised how close the two had gotten during their conversation. 

“Of course, sweetie,” Y/N said and held out her hand.

“Is Eris coming?” Sapphira asked, looking up at Eris with wide eyes. 

Eris smiled and stood to his feet. “Of course.”

Sapphira smiled wide and gripped onto Y/N's hand and then Eris’s and began to drag them with all of her strength back to the ballroom. 

Y/N leaned closer to Eris. “You don’t need to come with us, if you prefer to be out here, you can say no to her.”

“Like I said, there are most likely plenty of people who are wondering where I went,” Eris replied. “And wherever you are going, I will follow.”

Y/N looked away from Eris just as Sapphira dragged them through the doors to the ballroom. There were still plenty of people inside and there were plenty of people on the dance floor. 

“This is where I must leave you both,” Eris said. “It seems that my brother is trying to get my attention.”

Sapphira looked up at Eris. “Please stay.”

“Sapphira, Eris is busy and needs to get back to his duties,” Y/N said. 

Eris looked at the young girl and bent down to meet her height. “How about this? Once I finish my duties for the evening, I will come and dance with you and your mother?”

“Eris you really don’t–”

“Yes please!” Sapphira exclaimed. 

Eris smiled and Y/N swore that she would melt. “Perfect.”

Sapphira held out Eris’s crown to him. “This is yours.”

Eris gently took the crown from her hands. “This crown always looked silly on me.” He placed the crown on top of Sapphira’s head. It was too big for her but her hairstyle kept it in place. “Why don’t you hold onto it for me? Remember this is a very important job.”

Sapphira’s eyes lit up. “I will protect it!”

Eris smiled before standing up. “I will see you later, Y/N.”

Y/N could feel many eyes on her as Eris spoke to her but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. “I will see you later, Eris.”

After bidding goodbye, Y/N thought Eris would simply leave to attend to his duties. However before he left he gently took Y/N’s hand in his, his skin soft, and brought her hand up to his lips, pressing his lips against her knuckles for a lingering moment. Her daughter giggled happily at the gesture while Y/N only held onto Eris’s hand tighter, something within her wanted him to stay. 

When he released her hand, Eris’s gaze lingered upon Y/N for a moment longer before he turned and walked away, creating a path through the many dancers on the ballroom floor. Y/N watched where he left, a lovestruck expression on her face which was only interrupted by Sapphire gripping onto her hand. 

“Are you going to marry him?” Sapphira asked.

“What!” Y/N exclaimed, looking down at her daughter. “Of course I’m not.”

Sapphira giggled happily and pulled Y/N’s hand. “I want to dance!”

With one last glance in the direction Eris disappeared, Y/N nodded. “Let’s go then.”

***

“This better be important,” Eris said as he neared closer to Lucien. 

“I see you were the one who found Sapphira,” Lucien said. “Y/N was worried sick about her.”

“I was in the gardens,” Eris said. “If anything she found me. Now, what was so important you needed to drag me away from a beautiful woman. Isn’t your mate around here? Shouldn’t you be entertaining her instead of pestering me.”

“Elain couldn’t make it tonight,” Lucien said. “And do my ears deceive me or did you say that Y/N was beautiful?”

“You certainly didn’t mention that in your stories about her,” Eris said. “And nor did you mention that Sapphira’s father isn’t in the picture.”

“Well I have a mate,” Lucien said. “My loyalty resides with Elain, I cannot go around calling other females beautiful now, can I? And you brought up Sapphira’s father to her? I knew you hadn't entertained the company of many females in the past few years, Eris, but who knew you were incapable to woo one without bringing up past failed relationships.”

“Oh, shut it,” Eris sneered at his brother. Lucien only laughed. “Is this the only reason why you called me over here?”

Lucien took a sip of his wine. “Yes. After all, I have been mentioning her quite a lot around you as of late. I thought you might need a push to talk to her and I gave you one when I secretly told Sapphira to go into the gardens earlier to find you.”

Eris glared at his brother. “You sent Sapphira out to me?”

“I did. I saw the look in your eyes the moment Y/N entered the ballroom and how quickly you left,” Lucien said. “That look in your eyes, I know you felt it. That snap.”

Eris sighed. “Can we not talk about this now?”

“We will talk about it now or you will avoid it,” Lucien said. “I knew you would like her but I never thought she was your mate, Eris.”

“Well it clearly hasn’t snapped for her, so please don’t bring it up to her until I am ready to tell her,” Eris pleaded with his younger brother. 

“Tell her, Eris,” Lucien said. “I know Y/N and I know that she deserves love, a real home. And I know that you crave the same. Tell her, from what I can see, she likes you too.”

Eris looked out at the ballroom and spotted Y/N and Sapphira instantly. Y/N looked so carefree dancing with Sapphira and Eris could only smile at the sight. That golden thread connecting him to Y/N tugged him toward her. He took the first few steps on his own. Everyone else in the ballroom seemed to disappear as Eris took a few more steps. As he continued to walk towards her, Y/N looked up at him. 

Eris felt like his heart stopped beating. The pull toward her became stronger and stronger. She was beautiful. The most beautiful female he had ever seen. The moment he had seen her walk into the ballroom he thought that. And the moment he felt the bond, he was overcome with emotion. He had left the ballroom to the safety of the gardens to process everything. Until a young girl approached him and he instantly knew who the child belonged to, he could see it in her features, she looked exactly like her mother. And she was the one to bring his mate into his life the moment she disappeared from the ballroom.

“Eris?” Y/N’s voice interrupted his thoughts. 

He hadn’t noticed but he was now standing back with Y/N and Sapphira. 

“Yes?” Eris said.

“Have you finished with your duties for the night?” Y/N asked. 

Eris nodded. “I have. Now I am yours.”

Y/N smiled and Eris. “Just for tonight, of course.”

The wide smile on Eris’s face faltered. “Yes, just for tonight.”

“Eris, can you dance with me?” Sapphira asked, gripping onto the edge of Eris’s jacket. 

Eris looked at the young girl and his smile returned. She still wore his crown and it now sat crooked on top of her head. “Of course. Will you join us, Y/N?”

Y/N shook her head. “All of this dancing has worn me out. I will get a drink for myself. I trust you to look after her.”

Eris grasped her hand in his. Sparks flew at their connection. “I will join you after we dance.”

Y/N chuckled. “Good luck trying to get her off of the dance floor.”

Eris smiled and brought his other hand up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. He allowed his hand to linger on her cheek, caressing her face gently.  “I will try my best to get her back to you in a timely manner.”

Y/N smiled and Eris swore she leaned into his touch. “Again, she will dance until she falls asleep,” Y/N replied.

“Then I’m afraid we will be here all night because I, too, love dancing,” Eris said. 

“You will need to show me some of your dance moves sometime,” Y/N said, her hand caressing his wrist. 

Eris smirked and leaned forward, his breath brushed her face. “I will happily show you anytime.”

“You better,” Y/N said.

“Eris, can we dance now?” Sapphira asked.

“Of course, give me just a second,” Eris replied. He turned back to Y/N. “I will see you later, Y/N.”

Before she had the chance to respond Eris pressed a kiss to her cheek, close to the corner of her mouth. Y/N didn’t respond as Eris stepped away, sweeping Sapphira in a dance in the centre of the ballroom.

***

Y/N remained still as she watched Eris and Sapphira dance, many moved out of the way to not disturb the High Lord. Though many gave the High Lord questioning looks as he danced with an unfamiliar girl. Y/N’s heart was racing.

“Y/N?” Azriel asked, approaching her. “Are you okay?”

“Eris…” Y/N began, but words failed her.

Azriel’s gaze followed Y/N’s and he went rigid. “Why is he with Sapphira?”

“He–” Y/N cut herself off as she finally tore her gaze away from Eris and Sapphira to look at her friend. “Azriel. Eris is my mate.”

Azriel’s head snapped to Y/N’s. “Your mate? That is not possible.”

“It is,” Y/N said. “I feel it. I feel him.” Y/N placed her hand over her stomach, feeling where the tug was coming from, connecting her to Eris. 

“Does he know?” Azriel asked, placing a gentle hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said. “He hasn’t mentioned it.”

Y/N returned her gaze to Eris and Sapphira and her heart melted at the sight. Sapphira stood on Eris’s feet as he walked her through a dance, a carefree smile on his face. “He is so good with her.”

Though Azriel was still tense, his gaze softened as he looked at the joy on the young girl’s face as she danced with Eris. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Azriel asked once more.

“I think so,” Y/N admitted. “I am just shocked. I never thought I would have a mate.”

“I’m shocked too,” Azriel muttered. “Considering it’s Eris of all people.”

Y/N gently hit his shoulder. “He is a good male.”

“And you have figured that out from one conversation?” Azriel questioned.

Y/N shook her head. “I know because of how he treats Sapphira.” Y/N nods her head to the two still dancing, Sapphira with a wide smile on her face. “Be honest and say you have never seen her that comfortable around a stranger before.”

Azriel looks at Sapphira and Eris. “I haven’t.”

Y/N smiles. “And that is how I know that he is a good male. Because my daughter is an excellent judge of character.”

Azriel sighs. “Just be careful.”

“There is nothing to be careful of,” Y/N said. “But to put your mind at ease, I will be careful.”

Before Azriel has the chance to respond, Eris interrupts the conversation, carrying Sapphira in his arms, her eyes slowly closing. “I believe your daughter is ready for bed.”

“I’m not…” Sapphira mutters, as her eyes droop once more, her head resting on Eris’s shoulder. 

“I can take her back home,” Azriel offers.

“Or I could have a room set up here?” Eris suggests, looking at Y/N. “It saves you returning home too.”

There is something in Eris’s eye that Y/N could only describe as pleading. He wanted her to stay at the Autumn Court for the night. Y/N couldn’t think of any reason why she wouldn’t want to. “Only if it’s not too much hassle.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Eris answers. “I can take you both to a guest room. The finest I have to offer.”

Y/N smiled. “Honest anything will do, Eris. I’m sure that you have more important guests who will need that room more than us.”

“My two most important guests are right here,” Eris said. “Now, shall we get going?”

Y/N looked at Azriel, who she had only just realised was still standing there. “Tell Rhys where I am?”

Azriel looked at Eris, his gaze hard. Eris only stared back at the shadowsinger, nothing in his eyes to suggest any ill intent. Azriel relaxed. “I will see you when you return, Y/N.”

The shadowsinger left, not before giving a warning look to Eris. The High Lord cleared his throat. “Well, shall we get going now?”

Y/N nodded. “Lead the way.”

As Eris tried to hand Sapphira over to Y/N, the young girl clung to his jacket, seemingly not wanting to leave Eris. Eris sent Y/N a panicked look. Y/N smiled at him. “It’s okay. When she is sleepy she always clings onto people she trusts.”

The touched expression on Eris’s face was enough for Y/N to feel a pull on the bond between them. The quicker she had Sapphira asleep in a bed, the quicker she could tell Eris about the bond. 

Eris led her down a variety of hallways and Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from the beauty of it all. “If Sapphira were awake she wouldn’t want to ever leave.”

The smile on Eris’s face was small but Y/N didn’t miss it. “You are free to visit anytime.”

Finally the two stopped outside of two large doors, Eris pushed open the door with one arm and gestured for Y/N to enter. The room was large with a king size bed in the centre, draped by a crimson canopy. Solid gold was shaped into patterns on the bed frame. Y/N was sure that it cost more than she made in a year. There was a seating area beside a fireplace, pillows and blankets rested upon the sofa and made Y/N want to snuggle up there with a good book in her hands. 

But the most stunning feature of the whole room was the windows. They were floor to ceiling leading out onto a secluded balcony allowing for a view of the Autumn Court. Y/N couldn’t help herself but gasp. 

“You cannot seriously be allowing me to stay here?” Y/N asked. 

“I am,” Eris said, walking over to the bed. “Only the finest room for my most important guests. I have some spare clothing for Sapphira if you wish to change her. I am sure my mother kept clothing from when myself and my brothers were children.”

“No, it’s okay,” Y/N answered. “If you wake her now, I will never get her back to sleep.”

Y/N joined Eris at the bed and watched as he placed her gently down upon the soft covers. The care in his movements was unlike anything Y/N had seen before. No one except for her had held her daughter with such care before. Eris gently tucked her under the covers and pulled the blankets up as she snuggled into them. Y/N leant against the bedpost. 

“What?” Eris asked as he noticed her staring. “Like I said, I’m good with children.”

Y/N shook her head. “It’s not that.”

Eris smiled and approached her. “What is it then?”

“It’s just…I have never seen someone care so much for her before. I know the Inner Circle loves her but they have never held her or gone so much out of their way to make her smile like you have tonight,” Y/N said. “Thank you, Eris.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Eris said. “Don’t ever thank me for something as simple as making your daughter smile.”

“She just never warms up to new people as quickly as she did to you,” Y/N said. “She really likes you, Eris.”

Eris looked at his feet for a brief moment before gesturing to the sofa by the fireplace. “Shall we sit?”

“Don’t you need to return to the ballroom?” Y/N questions. 

“I have disappeared from these events before,” Eris explains. “No one will miss me. If they do, Lucien will deal with them.”

Y/N took a seat on the sofa and Eris sat next to her, his thigh brushing against hers. The pull within Y/N made her shuffle closer, seeking as much contact as possible. She craved it. 

“Eris, there is something I need to tell you,” Y/N said, suddenly serious. “It might be a lot to take in and I really don’t want you to run from the room screaming in fear.”

Eris chuckled. “Whatever you are about to tell me probably is not going to match the news I need to tell you.”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh. “Earlier, when you kissed my cheek, something snapped into place. A mating bond. You are my mate, Eris.”

For a brief moment, Eris stilled and Y/N was afraid that he would end up running from the room. But her fears were not brought to life as Eris began to laugh quietly. Y/N frowned. “What is so funny?”

A warmth enveloped Y/N’s hand. She didn’t need to look down to know that it was Eris’s own hands. 

“The news I wished to share with you is the same as yours,” Eris said with a smile. “I felt it too. The moment you walked into that ballroom. That snap I never thought I would feel.”

“And are you…happy about it?” Y/N asked, holding her breath. 

Eris frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be happy? Y/N, I never thought I would be blessed with a mate, let alone someone as beautiful and incredible as you. I never thought I deserved it.” Eris caressed her cheek as he leaned closer to Y/N. “But now that I see you Y/N, you are everything I have ever wanted. Deep down I always craved a mate, I always craved to be loved by someone unconditionally and the mother has blessed me with you. I must be the luckiest male in the entire world.”

Y/N’s eyes watered. “Oh, Eris.  You really mean all of those things?”

“Of course I do,” Eris said. “I have only known you a short time, Y/N. But everything about you I admire. And you are someone I could easily fall in love with.”

Y/N placed her hands on Eris’s chest, her fingers gripping onto the lapels of his jacket. “Eris, you must realise that Sapphira will always be part of my life and she is the most important thing to me. You say you want me, but you have to want her too.”

Eris rested his forehead against Y/N’s. “Y/N, I already know. And I already adore Sapphira, she reminds me a lot of Lucien when he was younger, before my father–” Eris cut himself off. “What I am saying is that I have already accepted her. If you choose me too, I will continue to provide for her. Whatever she wishes I will try my damn hardest to make that wish come true.”

Y/N smiled. “Don’t spoil her too much.”

“So do you accept me as your mate?” Eris asked. “Obviously we don’t need to accept the bond until you are ready. Of course not until we tell Sapphira everything, because if she doesn’t accept it then I will gladly step back and–”

“Eris,” Y/N said, cutting him off. “I accept you as my mate. I may have only known you a short time but from how you are with Sapphira tells me all I need to know about you. You are a good male.”

Eris looked into Y/N’s eyes and Y/N already had a new favourite colour. Everything about this felt right to her. It was as if everything around her had fallen into place and this was what she was destined for. A life with Eris, raising her daughter together. 

“May I kiss you?” Eris asked, hesitation evident in his voice. 

“Yes, you may,” Y/N replied.

Without any hesitation, Eris pressed his lips against Y/N’s and she could feel the bond tighten between them, pulling them into one another. Eris’s arms wrapped around her body as Y/N caressed his face, her hands brushing over his stubble before moving up to tangle in this hair. The kiss was nothing but perfect. 

The only thing that interrupted Y/N and Eris was a small mumble from Sapphira. Y/N pulled away and shot to her feet to check on her daughter only to find her still fast asleep, mumbling incoherently. Y/N sighed and sat back down on the sofa, she leaned into Eris. 

“Do you think I could borrow some of your clothes?” Y/N asked. “I don’t think this dress will be very comfortable to sleep in.”

Eris’s eyes scanned over her body. “I do have some clothes you can borrow, though it will be unfortunate not to see you in this dress any longer.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and leaned closer to him, her lips brushing over his. “If you play your cards right, I may just wear this dress again. Just for you.”

Eris smirked. “Is that a promise?”

“It will be after you get me some clothes,” Y/N answered. 

Eris got to his feet and left the room swiftly and Y/N only giggled lightly at his hasty departure. He was back only moments later with a pile of clothes in his arms. 

“You were quick,” Y/N commented, standing to her feet. 

“My room is only across the hall,” Eris answered, a faint blush coating his cheeks. 

Y/N took the clothes from his arms. “Thank you, Eris.”

Eris nodded and took a step back. “I should get back to the ballroom to tell everyone the event is over.”

“Yes you should,” Y/N said.

“I should be going now,” Eris said, still remaining where he is standing. 

Y/N is the first to give in. She dumped the clothes on the chair and pulled Eris into her, planting her lips on his. It was an addicting feeling already. Eris held onto the back of her neck deepening the kiss, bending over Y/N causing her to tilt her head back. If Eris wasn’t holding her up, Y/N was sure she would collapse from the sheer amount of emotions coursing through her veins. Some were her own and some were Eris’s, that golden thread connecting them doing its best to convey what the other thought of one another. 

Y/N gripped onto Eris tightly not wanting to ever let go. On one hand she was grateful that Sapphira had been allowed to come along with her, she had not seen her daughter as smiley as she was tonight in a while. But on the other hand Y/N wished that her usual babysitter was available so she could pull Eris down onto the bed and continue what they were doing all night, preferably with no clothes obstructing their bodies. 

Y/N was the first to pull away, panting for air. “We should stop. I don’t want to get carried away.”

Eris brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Me neither.”

Y/N kissed him again. 

However this time the kiss did not last long at all as a quiet young voice cut through the air. 

“Are you going to get married?” Sapphira’s voice was like a bucket of ice cold water poured over both Y/N and Eris, causing them to jump apart. 

Y/N turned to face her daughter. “No, we aren’t Sapphira. Eris and I…we were just helping each other with our hair.”

Sapphira huffed. “Can you get married? I like Eris.”

Eris looked down at the floor, his face bright red. Y/N chuckled lightly. “Okay, Sapphira, I think you should get back to sleep. It is late and you need to be rested for tomorrow.”

“Will Eris be here tomorrow?” Sapphira asked, pointing at Eris.

Y/N perched on the edge of the bed next to her daughter. “Of course he will.” Y/N turned to face him. “He’s not going anywhere.”

Eris smiled. “I will be here bright and early tomorrow, Sapphira.”

Sapphira smiled sleepily and yawned. Y/N brushed her daughter's hair from her face and watched as she fell back into a peaceful sleep. Once she was asleep, Y/N laughed and approached Eris. 

“Well you have Sapphira’s blessing,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Eris pulled her closer by her hips and rested his arms lazily around her. “And I’m glad to have it.”

Y/N hugged Eris. “Goodnight, Eris. I will see you tomorrow.”

Eris hugged her back. “Bright and early.”

Y/N smiled and pecked his lips quickly. “My mate.”

Eris smiled. “My mate.”

Reluctantly she let go of Eris and allowed him to leave the room. Before the door closed he turned around and blew her a kiss. Y/N smiled at the lopsided grin on his face before the door closed completely. 

Y/N changed into the clothes Eris had given her. They smelt of him and Y/N wrapped her arms around herself. She climbed into the soft bed next to her daughter and swiftly fell asleep, dreaming about her future life with Sapphira and Eris. 

[temiizpalace]

hiiii!! omg this is exciting ^^ can I request prompt 4 for Azul and Jamil?? Jamil normally offers Yuu their hoodies, then for some reason Azul started to let Yuu borrow the coat he wears from his Octavinelle Uniform. But in the end, Yuu ends up with Jamil, he told Yuu that now they're in a relationship, they're probably going to own almost all his hoodies now doenksnwksnwksjekd head empty, just this request.

Have a great day!!!

☆┊TAKE MY JACKET, I INSIST. (🐍 vs. 🐙)

SUMMARY: COLD CHILLS RAN DOWN YOUR SPINE AS YOUR TEMPERATURE BEGINS TO DROP. HE OFFERS HIS JACKET LIKE A GENTLEMEN, BUT A CERTAIN SOMEONE HAD THE SAME IDEA.

CHARACTERS: jamil viper vs. azul ashengrotto

EVENT MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: determined end couple, jealousy, small azul angst near end?

NOTES: i knew id see this duo at least once!! tysm for your request!

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

˚∘☆∘˚

jamil felt sick.

not literally, thankfully, but horrible enough to feel like he had just gotten a disease. is this happening? seriously? you, in an octavinelle coat. more specifically, azul’s coat. disgusting. he can’t believe his very eyes. why?! and just as he was about to ask if you needed to wear his sweater.

as a very very platonic exchange between two very good friends, you have been wearing jamil’s sweaters during the colder seasons. not like he cares or anything. (he does, he’s literally the one to offer it) however, seeing you in someone else’s clothes? and azul’s nonetheless? do you hate him??? as much as he wanted to run over to you, toss the coat off the window and immediately give you his own sweater to wear instead, jamil would rather die than make such a scene.

he can think of a few.. others.. that would do something so rash, but not him. no, no. he’s seen countless things he never liked to see before! surely this is the same, right?

“jamil! good morning!” you smile, rushing over to him with an enthusiastic wave. “[MC], morning.” he politely greets you in return, eyeing the coat for a second before looking at your eyes. “like my coat? pretty nice, don’tcha think? azul’s letting me borrow it.” you model the coat for him, allowing him to look at every single little detail.

“it’s..” absolutely atrocious. jamil hesitates, biting back any and all comments or remarks he could come up with on the top of his head. he doesn’t wish to insult you! never. the coat itself on the other hand, well.. “..something.” he narrows his eyes, knuckles forming in his hands til they turned pale. “thank you for your sincere input.” you reply sarcastically, already being able to sift through his lie.

“why’re you wearing it?” he asks, crossing his arms and raising a brow. answers. he wants answers. there’s no reason you should be going to azul for anything, so how come? “funny story actually! you see—” “jamil? [MC]?” you both turn your heads to see the refined businessman already on his way towards your direction, jamil unable to hide his obvious annoyance.

“oh, azul! morning.” you wave, unaware to your poor friends furrowed brow. “why, good morning prefect! i see you’re satisfied with the coat?” azul smiles, picking off the lint that was left on your collar. he looks to jamil, taking note of his peeved expression.

“hello, jamil. hanging out with the prefect again, i take it? you know, how about borrowing an octavinelle coat to match with our dear [MC] here? im positive it will look just as good on you as it does on them! our coats are accustomed to keep their subjects nice and warm for the winter seasons.” azul chimes, pulling out a neatly kept contract from his pockets.

“not on your life.” jamil states bluntly, crossing his arms with a pout. “they really do keep you warm though!” you add, much to azul’s delight. “see? i have no ill intentions in the slightest.” the octomer grins, his smile obviously not reaching his eyes. “prefect, i will see you at lunch. we can meet by our usual spot.” jamil sighs, looking at you and now just ignoring his classmate. “oh, okay! see you later then, jamil.”

classes droned on like they usually did. jamil wrote his notes with a focused expression, the thoughts in his head being a complete contrast. small doodles were drawn on the corners of the page, the pencil lead growing duller and duller with each passing minute. stupid octopus bastard.. he sighs, turning to azul wearing a more-than-pleased smile. oh how he wanted to rip that smug grin on his face off and ship him away to a place far, far away from here.

passing period was also no better. azul beat him to the punch, walking you to class like a gentlemen. jamil didn’t fail to notice the boys ears turning red as you laughed, his body language shifting from refined to embarrassed. he fought the urge to bite his nails in anger, leaving that old habit behind him many years ago. a spine chilling aura startles students around him as he walked, his face screaming neutral but his mood nothing but foul.

it’s that damn coat. that damn coat is what’s slowly drifting you away from him, and he cannot allow that. he’ll settle this. once and for all.

jamil awaited your arrival patiently by the tree. his foot tapping aggressively on the concrete as your presence seemed to delay. “sorry im late!” you shout, rushing over with a huff. no. no. no. no. no. no. this was a nightmare. not only were you wearing the coat, but the fedora, scarf, and just the entire octavinelle dorm uniform. “wh-what are you wearing..?” jamil stammers, observing your outfit with pure horror in his eyes.

“agh, azul made me wear it.” you sigh, obviously growing a little too warm in these clothes. it didn’t even snow yet! “this is too much..” he mumbles, removing your hat. slowly, he pulled off each overbearing accessory. he unwrapped the scarf, carefully removed your gloves, and eventually, the coat. “ah, i can take the coat—”

jamil removes his blazer, followed by his sweater. you’d be a liar if you told yourself you weren’t a little bit. seeing jamil in the normal nrc uniform was truly a privilege to say the least. he pulls the sweater over your head and smiles contently. “there. much better.” you hesitate for a moment, feeling your cheeks warm up at his gesture. typically you would put the sweater on yourself, but having someone do it for you? it was different somehow.

“if you’re ever feeling cold, just ask me.” he mumbles, putting his blazer back on while folding the octavinelle clothes neatly. “wow.. sounds like such a romantic gesture.” you joke, nudging his elbow. “could be.” he replies, his tone not holding any of the joking yours previously had. “what..?”

seize every opportunity. “i.. i wouldnt mind if it was.” he mutters, unable to meet your eyes. “is this a confession?” you ask, stepping closer to jamil. he swallows harshly, feeling like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. “i suppose.” suddenly he misses his hoodie. the blush on his cheeks couldn’t help but form, sweat dripping from his brow at the fear of rejection.

“jamil..” you grab his hand, placing it over your heart with a small smile. “if this is a confession, then i like you too.” you wrap him into an embrace, feeling his heart against your own. it beat rapidly, his palms sweaty before he hesitantly reciprocated your hug.

silence fell between you two for a brief moment, but one of comfort rather than awkwardness. “so.. why were you wearing an octavinelle uniform?” jamil asks, feeling the need to soothe the nagging thought in his head. “oh yeah.. that. azul asked me to wear it to promote the lounge. in return, he said id get a few food vouchers and i get to keep the coat.” you shrug, pulling out the small tickets from the octavinelle coat.

“i see..” jamil nods, still not understanding the rest of the accessories. “well, my hoodies are now your hoodies. look no further than yours truly for warmth in the winter.” he smiles, fixing the collar of the sweater. you laugh at his comment, pushing his bangs out of his face.

azul watched your exchange from afar, feeling his smile falter slightly. “oya? azul, is something the matter?” jade asked calmly, staring at his frowning companion. “..it’s nothing. what were you saying about that seasonal dish?” azul smiles, walking and talking with his vice housewarden for the future of mostro lounge.

in reality, his heart ached. even after all his efforts, he came in last. he couldn’t win your love in time. azul can’t help but want to climb into his octopot and weep. he sounds childish, but how else would you deal with a broken heart? maybe someday, you’ll find your love for him. someday, you’ll be part of his world. someday, he won’t feel so poor and unfortunate. but not today.

A/N: im sorry this was a little late something came up 😭

date published: 8/28/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

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Despite not being comatose anymore, Danny’s health still wasn’t the greatest. After getting introductions for who everyone was they had started to explain to him what had happened. Only for him to fall asleep again before they got very far. After being assured by Bruce and Leslie that it was normal for those who had been in a coma to not be able to stay awake very long in the beginning, the others had found ways to entertain themselves while letting him rest more. When he woke up again hours later they let him orient himself again before trying to pick up where they’d left off. They had to repeat the same sequence again two more times before they got through the entire two months worth of events.

The hardest part of catching Danny up on everything had been admitting they didn’t know what had happened to Maddie and Jack. During the third time of being awake Danny had asked where they were, being confused why they hadn’t shown up to see him yet despite everything. And when Jazz had finally admitted it was because they weren’t there, and they didn’t even know if they were okay, Danny had panicked slightly. If he’d been in better health Jazz knew she wouldn’t have been able to stop him from running out into the city to try and find them himself. Yet at this point he couldn’t even push himself upright without help, and changing forms or even floating seemed impossible. Which had left him collapsed in Jazz’s lap, sobbing, “You don’t get it, Jazz! None of this matters at ALL if the people I care about aren’t alive! That includes mom and dad! None of this matters if they’re not okay too!”

Jazz knew that Danny really only fought to keep certain people happy. He’d protect everyone, sure. But the reason he kept going, the only real motivation he had for throwing himself in harm's way all the time, was to protect his friends and family. He did a lot of crazy heroic things, but he didn’t want to be some big time famous hero like she had learned Batman and Superman were. It was hard to not be able to tell him that he hadn’t failed. Only Sam, Tucker, and Danielle had been able to get him to calm down by reminding him how resilient Jack and Maddie were. Despite all the fights they got in, it was very rare that those two got hurt. So odds were they were still just fine after this disaster too. It had been enough to calm him down at least enough to stop crying, and allow himself to rest more. But his words still rang in Jazz’s head the next day.

Throughout the days Leslie was present more, checking Danny’s vitals, drawing a little more blood for another panel, bringing him room temperature water to sip in the afternoon. She strangely didn’t try to get Danny to eat anything until the next day. When Jazz asked about it Leslie had explained that while Danny definitely needed to eat again, there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to handle it just yet. While the cryo stasis had helped him not deteriorate as much as anyone else would have over a two month coma, he still had. He was underweight, malnourished, and easily fatigued. And that included his digestive system. She tried to help by giving Danny another vitamin IV with a slightly different formula. But even with that the first time she’d let him try eating two plain crackers he’d ended up throwing up less than an hour later.

That was when Bruce happened to come check on them. With the biggest hurdles for now having been taken care of, most of his kids had gone back to their own homes, as they usually did. It was hard to keep them around for more than a few days, and while there was still the task of getting these displaced kids back home they all knew that could wait until Danny was feeling better. Especially after learning through bits and pieces of information that there was a government team back there that would just love to hunt him down the first chance they got. So with Duke and Damian currently at school that left the house rather empty, and Bruce found himself taking charge of checking on their visitors. He had learned a lot about them in the past two days. The kids were obviously used to helping patch Danny back up, without the help of any adults. But they still relied on Danny being okay to feel secure. Danny was the one that protected them. Danny was the one they relied on being okay to judge whether or not everything else was okay. When Danny was cracking jokes the others were at ease. But when Danny couldn’t force himself to reassure them, there was a harsh spike in their anxiety. And usually Jazz was the one that took charge, trying to keep them all calm and reassured.

It was an unfair, but understandable situation that didn’t allow for Danny to truly rest. And that was what motivated Bruce to enter the room and approach the kids this time, stopping by the connected bathroom to grab a soft towel first. Jazz was once again the only one sitting on the bed while the other three hovered nearby, waiting to be directed. Her hands were on Danny’s back and arm as he was curled over the bucket Leslie had made sure was left just in case, coughing and half heaving despite there being nothing left in his stomach. Bruce couldn’t imagine how much stress it must be to have an audience, so decided the first thing he’d do would be to get the others to disperse. When he raised his hand to Tucker’s shoulder he couldn’t blame Tucker for jumping in startle.

“D’dude! You scared me,” Tucker protested shakily.

“He’ll be alright,” Bruce chose to assure instead of apologizing for inevitably sneaking up on the kids. “Can you three go work with Alfred to find a change of clothes and bedding?”

The three almost jumped on being given something to do, a series of affirmatives before they scurried from the room. Bruce sent Alfred a text to request he keep the three of them occupied for a while then knelt down next to the bed and offered the towel to Danny. It seemed his stomach had decided to stop throwing a fit for now, and as Danny took the towel and buried his face in it Bruce relocated the bucket to the nightstand. He didn’t need to wipe his entire face, but from that angle Bruce hadn’t missed the tears, and realized Danny was hiding.

“Jazz, can you join the others?” Bruce requested on Danny’s behalf. “And find Leslie to help waterproof his injuries so he can have a bath?” Not only would that give Danny some time away from the others, but he actually really needed one too. A fact Bruce realized when he’d reached up to help pull Danny’s hair out of his face. He’d probably feel a little better after getting fully cleaned up for once too.

Jazz seemed reluctant to leave, but at least seemed to know when her presence was a detriment more than comfort. She knew her brother well, and after leaning down to give Danny a peck on the head and whisper a quick ‘I love you’ she headed out the door.

“...Am I even allowed to have a bath?” Danny’s question came after he was sure Jazz was gone, raising his head and looking and sounding as miserable and pathetic as he probably felt.

“Of course you are,” Bruce assured, using his thumb to brush away another tear that escaped when Danny blinked. “We’ll just have to waterproof your injuries and IV site. But then you should be fine to take one for as long as you want.”

“...Really?”

“Yes.”

The idea of getting some time to himself was welcomed, but after realizing what he was thinking Danny’s expression crumpled again, and Bruce had to raise a little to catch him as we swayed. He was a little surprised when Danny actually curled into him then, his form shaking.

“Sorry,” Danny whimpered, and Bruce couldn’t keep himself from gathering the boy up in a tight hug. “...I’m not okay.”

That sounded like it had been incredibly hard to say, and Bruce had to wonder if it was something someone had been working on with him. He’d heard from Jason that it was relatively recent that Danny’s parents even knew what he was, let alone what he’d been going through. Perhaps one of them had been the one to talk him into letting them know when he wasn’t doing well.

“...I know,” Bruce responded quietly as he moved to sit on the bed and pull Danny into a ball. Everyone knew Danny wasn’t doing well physically. But Bruce knew he wasn’t just talking about that part of his health this time. “You’re going to be okay though.”

It felt good to be held by someone he didn’t have to protect. Someone that he didn’t have to pretend he knew what he was doing for. Act like he was just fine and nothing fazed him. It had been something he had just started getting after his parents got involved with all aspects of his life, and he hadn’t realized how much he would miss it until they weren’t there to give him that comfort. Jazz had a habit of calling out the fact that he was just a kid, but she was too, and couldn’t quite give him what he needed. But Bruce was an adult. And someone who seemed to have also lived through similar injuries. Hearing him say he’d be alright felt like a stated fact instead of just a confident reassurance.

It didn’t take long for Leslie to arrive and expertly shoo Jazz away again to help Alfred with the others. She wasn’t surprised at all to hear that Danny had thrown up, and instead just assured him he was going to be okay, and to think of it like having the stomach flu. The comparison did wonders in helping Danny calm down more, to the point he was only sniffling quietly as she took care of dressing his wounds in a waterproof covering.

“Don’t scrub too hard on the edges of the bandages when you’re washing up, okay?” Leslie directed while rubbing the said edges of the last bandage she was placing around his arm to encase the temporarily detached IV. She’d taken some time to clean the sites that would be covered so Danny would be able to feel completely clean after his bath, and was pleased to see he was healing a lot faster now that he wasn’t in some sort of stasis mode. She wouldn’t be surprised if his wounds were completely healed by the end of next week at this rate.

Danny gave a small hum in acknowledgement, understanding that he couldn’t break the seal if the bandages were going to work properly. The desire for an actual bath was strong enough that he was willing to comply with their conditions, even if it meant he had to have Bruce in the bathroom with him, just in case. It made sense considering he couldn’t go to the toilet on his own just yet, but at least Bruce had promised to stay facing towards the door as long as he could. He also had his phone with him to work on his own projects, so wouldn’t even try to get Danny to talk to him.

It was exhausting, but Danny also didn’t realize just how much it would feel good to be clean. To not have his scalp itch, and skin feel like a layer of grime was coating it. And also just to lounge in the warm water, in the silence and almost complete isolation. He was there for a little over an hour - dang fancy rich people's tubs and their ability to keep the water just right - before it became uncomfortably apparent he wasn’t just imagining the aching starting to get worse. Which led him to reluctantly using his foot to nudge the plug out to allow the water to drain and reaching out to knock his hand against Bruce’s shoulder.

“Done already?” Bruce asked easily, glancing over his shoulder halfway.

“Morphine is wearing off,” Danny admitted with a grimace, resting against the side of the tub.

“Ah,” Bruce nodded in unfortunate complete understanding, turning his phone screen off and tucking it into his pocket while grabbing the towel and soft robe to hand to Danny. “Let me know if you need help.”

Danny hummed once again to acknowledge what was said, but stubbornly took care of at least getting the bathrobe on himself on his own once the water had drained. Unfortunately he had to ask for help to get out of the tub, still too weak to lift himself up or stand. But Bruce didn’t react differently towards this than if Danny had simply asked for help opening a jar or something. It was nice.

Alfred had already brought a pair of soft pajama pants and fluffy socks when he’d returned to change the bedding as well. And once Danny was dressed Bruce had carried him back to the edge of the bed where Leslie could double check that the bandages had worked, get the IV reattached and another dose of morphine going. He found he was so worn out from the simple task, but also found that once the morphine did its job taking away the aches and pain he did feel a lot better than before. Enough that Duke pausing in the doorway while returning home from school didn’t make him feel too wary.

“Oh- First post injury bath?” Duke asked, pointing a finger at Danny as he noticed the bathrobe on the bed and Danny’s still damp hair. When Bruce nodded, Duke grinned. “Nice! Those always feel amazing somehow. You should take him to the couch next.”

“The couch?” Danny couldn’t help asking. Was it just the family room couch or something different?

“In the study. It’s quiet in there, and being stuck in bed sucks,” Duke explained. “I bet he was actually already planning on taking you there. After living here I came to find out Bruce is actually really good at helping people feel better. Even though he’s not perfect, no one is, he still makes a nice dad-”

“Duke,” Bruce interrupted, a slight scowl hiding his embarrassment. “Make sure you have enough time to finish your homework before patrol.”

Other people may have been put off by the glower, but Duke just laughed. “Sure sure. I’ll meet you in the study?”

It took Danny a moment to realize Duke was talking to him, and couldn’t keep his shoulders from drooping. He didn’t really want to entertain people yet, he was already feeling physically drained on top of emotionally.

Surprisingly Duke picked up on the mood easily. “I’ll keep quiet. Promise. But trust me when I say it’s really nice,” he offered, easily picking up Danny’s anti-social vibes.

“...Sure. We can try,” Danny accepted, figuring he could at least attempt the idea since Duke didn’t seem to want to spend the time talking.

It was just a few more minutes for Leslie to finish giving him another routine checkup and add an anti nausea patch behind his ear before allowing Bruce to pick him up again. Danny inevitably felt tiny as Bruce was able to carry him with just one arm, leaving the other free to bring the IV pole with them. But he found he didn’t mind. It had only been two days of him being awake in that bedroom, but Danny found getting to leave the room was nice. The study was quite a ways down the hall, and when they reached it Alfred was already there.

“I’ve provided the usual snacks for Master Duke and Master Damian. There’s also a thermos of warm broth that Dr. Thompkins has approved for Master Danny to try if he’s up for it. I will continue to keep the rest of the children occupied until supper,” Alfred informed, bringing their attention to the mentioned food on the low table in front of the very plush couch.

“Thank you Alfred,” Bruce responded simply, heading further in the room to get settled.

There was a fire crackling gently in the fireplace, keeping the room pleasantly warm despite the autumn chill outside. There was already a slight frost on the windows, but the glass was the only thing that reflected that cold. All the colors of the room were warm, and the faux fur blanket Bruce grabbed to help bundle Danny up in only increased the cozy feeling the room had. It was quiet, as Duke had said, and comfortable. Even when Duke and Damian joined them to work on their homework they rarely spoke. And when they did it was in low voices, and to each other about their homework or school day.

Danny had accepted being brought there with the thought that he’d have to end up asking to go back to the bedroom later. But after having spent some time quietly looking around the room his gaze had settled on watching the fire. And slowly the crackle of the wood, soft scratch of pens and pencils, rustling of paper and quiet taps of technology muddled into a soft haze. Eventually Danny’s eyes drooped closed as the soft sounds and comforting warmth became a lullaby coaxing him to sleep. 

Duke was right. The couch was pretty nice.

_____________

This entire chapter was unplanned X'DD but I ain't complaining.

Bruce was as hard to draw as Dick was 8 | my art style is too cute coded for these rugged american comic characters.

Also I am extremely distracted translating a manga that not available in english just so I can know the story |D updates might be a little slower.

_____________

Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @megacharizardx99

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, 

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

@honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl,

@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics, @ehobep, @paranoid-ira

[comingdownwithme]

is... is that a kate I see..? Can.... can we get information on her? I beg

Just gonna drop both Toby and Kate here to finish off the proxies- (Didn't include Tim or Brian since apparently they're not proxies but also because I haven't watched MH yet </3)

Anyways, there will be some descriptions of body horror (for Kate specifically) but it will be warned before each paragraph!

Kate the Chaser

Kate Milens was raised by the Woods for most of her life, growing up unafraid of the wilderness that grew beyond the walls of her childhood home. After a series of unfortunate events as she grew older though, and as her baser human instincts push her to run despite the ache of her injured and weary limbs, Kate found that there really was something to fear beyond the treeline. She could hear it speak, it's voice a cacophony that echoed around her- within the base of her own skull- offering her reprieve and a greater purpose if she would just give in.

[DESCRIPTIONS OF BODY HORROR FOR THIS PARAGRAPH] Woke up unable to recall anything that had happened before she first awoke and with a dull ache akin to the sting of a healing injury over every muscle and joint of her body. Found out later on that the skin over her jaw and nose had been flayed, fresh burns mark her limbs, and maggots had once burrowed into her very flesh. They're healed now thanks to him.

Gloves and hoodie are stolen from her victims, and her shirt, boots and jeans are what she had woken up in. She washes them the best she can in nearby rivers.

Good hunter and a decent cook. Usually provides food for both herself and Toby when she can.

White eyes! And they glow! Spooky! They give her pretty good night vision, but that leads her to being sensitive to light.

Despite the both of them being close proxies, Kate is more connected to the slenderman than Toby is. Where she can hear him despite great distances, Toby needs to be at a certain, close radius to hear the slenderman, though the both of them could still recognise when he's near and if they're needed.

Faster than Toby. She's called The Chaser for a reason, and trying to outrun or outlast her is the worst mistake you could make.

Pretty quiet and doesn't talk often with her fellow proxy when he's around. She's more of a listener and listens (and or zones out) of any topic Toby is on about.

Ticci Toby

Tobias Erin Rogers was someone who's deeply familiar with the feeling of isolation. Being ostracised from a young age due to circumstances he can't control, his only reprieve was the company provided by his older sister and the sons of the family just down the street from his own home, though even that wouldn't last as Toby's only friends were torn away from him, and both his mother and sister had passed not long after they had left, leaving Toby alone with a sorry excuse of a father and an empty house.

Fortunately for him, something had noticed his suffering, and it reached an elongated, outstretched hand as it gave him the option to leave this life behind.

Whereas he was a quiet, introverted boy when he was younger, Toby currently is outgoing, excitable and manic, and is often careless during the job due to his general demeanor and the fact he can't feel pain. This also leads him to be fascinated by how his victims feel pain, and he likes to study their reactions.

He's got special eyes like Kate! They don't glow in the dark like hers does, but he does still have night vision.

Pyromaniac! If he could, he'd take the opportunity to set his victims on fire or set their shelters or belongings on fire. He's also in charge of setting controlled burns in the areas of the slenderman's territory where he needs him to.

When desperate times call for desperate measures, Toby won't hesitate to turn to cannibalistic tendencies on his victims.

Physically stronger than Kate.

Absolutely ass cook, don't let him near a stove.

The hoodie he wears under his parka and the axes he holds are some things he brought from the life he left behind, most everything else was stolen off his victims.

Nose piercing! He knows he must have had it before he became a proxy, but if he thinks about it too hard, he'd start getting a headache or start tearing up.

Visions of his past life sometimes slip through, though unlike Kate's where hers are rare and short-lived, Toby's memories slip often, especially when he's asleep where whatever past life he had left behind twists to haunt him in his nightmares. These instances piss him off, and he sees them as a moment of weakness.

[cinnajun]

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: zb1 when they get jealous

a/n: this is my istj waiting room activity

notes: yujin is not included due to his age, jiwoong’s is set in the real world (aka he’s an idol), did not proofread

wc | 4.2k

jiwoong

i don’t think jiwoong gets jealous often

it’s just not his first thought when it comes to certain things LOL

but, depending on the situation, he absolutely will get jealous, but not in the way most people do

many people digest jealousy/envy as a big emotion but i don’t think it’s very big for jiwoong

and he knows that his jealousy isn’t something you should have to deal with but he doesn’t want to deal with it either so he’ll do his best to get rid of the issue without you knowing, which means making up creative ways to squash the situation

they all incorporate wherever you are

so let’s say you’re at the mall, you’re waiting for him to get out of a store, and a guy walks up to you and starts chatting you up

jiwoong will walk up to you and smile at whatever guy is flirting with you, acting completely fine

and then he’ll dip down and whisper something into your ear, and it’s usually something super unserious

“there’s a 50% sale at the ice cream shop and you get a fun cup for free”

you’re gone, he’s happy, and whatever guy was chatting you up is completely out of the picture

things are different when it comes to his members though

he always knew you liked kids and was well aware that you often volunteered to help out with kids, and he knew that you tutored high school students throughout university

nevertheless, jiwoong never thought han yujin would be his worst enemy

JIWOONG IS NORMALLY the most patient person you know—he can sit with you in a shop for an hour, watching you debate over two different mugs to buy without voicing one complaint. However, for some reason, watching you cook Yujin’s lunch is the worst thing he’s ever had to experience.

You had insisted on it after finding out he was planning on going to school after how long they’d been promoting, saying that it would be hard for him to go to school without anyone to cook him lunch. Jiwoong insisted that Hanbin probably would’ve, but you brushed him off, saying it wouldn’t take you long.

An hour and a half later, he was still sitting there, watching you cut watermelon into flowers. It was nearly 8 o’clock, and the movie you were going to was due to start at 8:45—meaning you had to leave soon.

“Are you almost done?” he asked, putting his down on the counter. You scoffed, putting the lid onto the last section of Yujin’s lunch box.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, beginning to wrap it up. “You’ve asked three times in the last hour.”

“I’m jealous that you’re spending more time fussing over Yujin’s lunch than hanging out with your boyfriend, whom you haven’t seen in a long time.”

“You’re jealous over Yujin?” you asked, exasperated, turning around and putting your hands on your hips. “He’s your kid too! You should help out! What father is jealous of their own child?”

zhang hao

there are 2 men in zb1 that don’t get jealous literally ever and hao is one of them

literally how could he be jealous when he’s zhang hao

most of the time, actually, you’re the one getting jealous (which makes sense, because he’s zhang hao)

and he always mocks you for it, which you hate

he’ll say something like “aw, do you think they’re going to steal me away from you?” and you have to resist the urge to punch him in the stomach

so when he actually gets jealous it is sooooo much fun for you

you milk it to no end. it is an opportunity you CANNOT waste

most of the time, it happens at his fancy violinist events, where you meet other people who are just as talented and impressive as him (and sometimes, they’re pretty attractive, too)

when he’s jealous, he sticks to your side and gets a little bit mean, especially towards whoever he’s jealous of

gets super touchy too

has a hand around your waist and drags you around with him just to make sure everyone gets the big picture

one day, he notices you and hanbin have been hanging out a lot all of a sudden, and it makes him really, really jealous

mostly because he can’t do his little flaunt routine, because he’s flaunted you to him enough

and then you realize he’s jealous that you and hanbin have been spending a lot of time together planning his birthday party

so obviously you capitalize on it immediately

it backfires on you

HAO WASN’T TRYING to be dramatic, but when he swung the door to Hanbin’s apartment open, having dug the spare key out from under the mat, he couldn’t help but march in like a soldier going to war.

You and Hanbin were sitting at his dining table, both of your laptops open. You had a cup of tea on the table, too, in a mug Hao knew he’d gifted Hanbin for his birthday a couple of years back.

“You let him make you tea?” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air like he was in some sort of drama. Both you and Hanbin stared at him in a mix of shock and confusion, wondering what in the world had caused him to barge in like that. Sure, you were beginning to pick up the fact that he was jealous of your business meetings with his best friend, but you weren’t exactly aware of how far you’d let it progress.

“Well, I made the tea—”

“You know where he keeps his tea?” he cut you off, staring at you while tapping his foot on the ground. “I am sick of this. How am I being left out by my partner and my best friend? What did I do to deserve this?”

“I think you’re getting the wrong idea,” Hanbin said, slowly closing his laptop. “We aren’t hanging out, per se, so we aren’t exactly leaving you out.”

“Then why have you spent hours upon hours together over the past week?”

You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to stop from laughing. “Hao, please be serious. What’s next week?”

His cheeks turned bright red, and you wished you could’ve got his big outburst on video.

hanbin

i am a believer that hanbin get sooo jealous (have you seen him glare at people's interaction with hao LOL)

he’s like the nicest guy on earth so there has to be one negative emotion that he feels

and it’s quite literally only over his loved ones, nothing else

will get jealous if people spend too much time with hao

will get even more jealous if people steal your attention away from him

he doesn’t even get jealous over things he should be getting jealous over, it’s things he hallucinates

“that guy stared at you a little too weirdly…”

“he was just our waiter?”

“still he was too friendly…i got bad vibes”

when hanbin gets jealous, though, it’s not very serious and never causes a problem between you two

he might hold your hand a little tighter or not be very fond of leaving you alone, but otherwise it’s not an issue

there are instances where his jealousy can get serious, and most of the time it’s pretty warranted (and this is when hanbin leans towards protective)

you’ll be watching one of his performances among a bunch of his peers and someone will get a little too touchy with you

and dancers are very hot so he might get a little insecure too

he will stomp over to you, sweaty and tired, and drag you away without saying a word to whoever was chatting you up

other than that his jealousy is kind of cute

hanbin doesn’t view any of the boys as enemies but sometimes matthew can be super cute

and while he considers matthew one of his best friends sometimes he forgets that matthew is just like that and isn’t trying to woo you

matthew, however, is well versed in the art that is hanbinism and is immune to it

YOU KNOW HANBIN like the back of your hand. He’s sweet, pretty, and enjoys being around the people he loves. And, you know for a fact Matthew is one of the people he loves. Nevertheless, when he skips up to you two with a white rose he picked, Taerae in tow, you can practically see a vein pop out of Hanbin’s head.

“Look at how pretty this is!” he smiled, and you nodded, agreeing with him. “Taerae and I found a bush of them, and I figured I’d pick one to give to you.”

You hear Hanbin scoff, and, feeling panic rush up your throat, you turn to him with horror flowing through you. The look in his eyes is dangerous, and a sort of shallow smile appears on his face—you don’t like it one bit. You turn back to Matthew, who seems completely unphased, and instead keeps talking.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to Hanbin. He stares at it, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“I thought you were giving it to [First]?”

“Huh? That would be weird,” Matthew replies, tilting his head. You hear Taerae begin to laugh, likely at Hanbin, and you have to hold back a little chuckle as well. “Wouldn’t you be the one to give a rose to them? Anyway, here you go.”

Hanbin, dumbfounded, takes the rose from Matthew’s hand, and he and Taerae disappear off into the distance.

matthew

matthew is #2 of men in zb1 who don’t get jealous often

literally doesn’t have the brain capacity for it

he’s like a universal friend, and universal friends don’t get jealous of anybody, nor do they distrust their significant others

a more appropriate word to use would be uncomfortable

at least that’s what matthew says when he gets jealous LOL

he genuinely doesn’t think he feels jealous because he doesn’t have any worry that whoever is talking to you is going to “steal” you away from him, but he certainly doesn’t appreciate anybody hardcore flirting with you

he can handle a “you’re so pretty” or an “i love your outfit” but if someone is persisting and he can tell you’re uncomfortable (both factors have to be present, or he’ll just let you handle it yourself) he will do his best to shut it down

but in the matthew way

so he walks over to you with a big smile on his face and starts talking to you like he normally would

“hey, babe, i lost you for a second”

whoever’s talking to you literally can’t keep going because of how nice matthew is

“oh, who’s this? it’s nice to meet you! i’m [first]’s boyfriend, matthew”

they’re gone within 2 minutes and matthew is feeling successful

he’ll probably give you a kiss on the cheek afterwards just to hammer home his point

he will, however, admit that he gets jealous of the other members lol

it’s mostly because he considers them his friends, though, so the idea that you’d be into one of them is scary to him

as a result, he gets a little wary when he stumbles upon you chatting with jiwoong at a party

BEFORE MATTHEW LEFT to go get a drink, you were sitting on the couch, playing a game on your phone. He planned to tell you that you could leave after he finished the drink, but when he returned, Jiwoong was sitting across from you, speaking with you.

The smile on your face was genuine, and you seemed overjoyed that you weren’t bored anymore. And, subconsciously, Matthew took it as you being happy that Jiwoong was talking to you, and not because you were glad you wouldn’t have to drag Matthew away from his friends anymore (which was the truth).

He sat back down next to you, sitting on the edge of the seat and putting his cup down on the coffee table. You smiled at him, and Jiwoong said his hellos, to which Matthew replied less than enthusiastically.

“We were just chatting about the new art exhibit that opened up at the museum. You know, the one we went to last week?”

“Yeah, I remember,” he said, taking a long sip of the drink. You raised an eyebrow, finally picking up that Matthew was feeling a bit jealous. “You planning on going again, or something?”

“Nope,” Jiwoong cut in, leaning back in his chair. “Actually, [First] was just talking about how much she enjoyed going with you, as you seemed to like it a lot. She said your eyes were sparkling the entire time.”

Matthew shut up quick after that, and you didn’t mention it ever again.

taerae

taerae’s jealousy is silent

you won’t know he’s jealous until well after the event has occurred

he might bring it up in passing weeks later and you’re absolutely dumbfounded

mostly because you had no clue

“you were jealous?”

“yeah, he kept staring at your lips and was getting super touchy with you. how would i not be jealous?”

you think about the interaction for hours afterward, you skim through all the memories, and you cannot figure out where he conveyed he was jealous

he’s so good at masking any negative emotion that when you manage to notice his jealousy it’s almost a little bit scary

you’ll be talking with someone, it doesn’t matter who, and you’ll look over at him for a second and notice this weird look in his eyes

and then you’ll be hyperaware of how everything he says has this sharp edge to it

little jabs that neither you or whoever you’re talking to would be able to pick up unless they were actively looking for hostility

lowkey it’s kind of attractive LOL

taerae’s usually the picture of “kind” so seeing him go into a lockdown mode is a bit fun for you, even if it’s barely noticeable

after the event that made him jealous he’s super touchy with you which is also fun for you

because taerae gives gooood hugs and is comfortable to lay on

so, long story short, if he’s ever jealous of the boys you don’t know until afterward

sometimes even weeks after the fact

and obviously when you were fawning over zhang hao after his violin recital, which taerae had taken you to, you weren’t exactly aware of the way he was staring at hao

WHEN TAERAE GRABS your hand about a minute into your drive, lacing all of your fingers together and pulling your hand onto his lap, your jaw drops. You turn to look at him with shock on your face, trying to find the words to say. “No way,” you gasped, putting your other hand over your mouth. 

He looks over at you for a brief second, confused as to why you’re suddenly making such a big deal that he was holding your hand. “What? I don’t understand.”

“You were jealous? Of Hao?” you exclaimed, letting your hand drop from your mouth. “Why? I mean, he did well, did he not? Was I too complimentary? Do I need to reel it back next time?”

“What? No, you were just being nice. Where did you get the idea I was jealous?”

“You say that, but in a month and a half, you’re going to be like, ‘You know what made me super jealous?’ and then you’re going to drop three bombs on me,” you replied. “And this is going to be included. So, just say it now, so we can get it over with.”

Taerae blinked a couple of times, tightening his grip on your hand. “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous—”

You wrenched your hand away from his, clapping excitedly. “Oh, I’m a genius! I have a degree in Taeraeology now, seriously.”

“What in the world is Taeraeology?”

ricky

when ricky gets jealous it’s like not a competition

he just shuts the situation down

i mean he’s so tall and so gorgeous that anybody who tries anything with you is immediately so intimidated the moment he does anything, he barely even has to talk

he literally has a neck tattoo like that’s terrifying

as a result he does not have the time to get seriously jealous because anyone who’s flirting with you is sprinting away the moment they lay eyes on him approaching you

most of the time people don’t even try anything anyway because they see you with him before you’re separated

for the few that are willing to stand up to ricky, it’s pretty funny for you to watch

“[first], who’s this?” and you watch the competitor cartoon-gulp right in front of you

they maybe last about 15 seconds before they bid you goodbye out of pure intimidation like good for you ricky

if it’s one of the days where he looks incredibly cute and soft (you know what i’m talking about) things tend to go south because ricky is awkward and his strong suit is rbf

at which point you end up having to be the one to be like “okay, me and my boyfriend are going to head out now!” LOL

among the jebis the only one ricky is going to get jealous of is gyuvin and that’s because they’re the same age and very close

he knows gyuvin will never make a move on you but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous when gyuvin is taking up too much of your attention

and he’ll straight up tell him to fuck off too LOL

riyangis i get you

GYUVIN LOOKS LIKE he’s about to burst into laughter as Ricky stands next to you, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He never takes Ricky’s jealousy seriously, which you understand why, given the fact that they’re best friends, and he has absolutely no interest in you whatsoever.

“You should go home now,” Ricky insists, motioning towards the front door. “I think we’ve hung out for long enough today.”

It was partially your fault for introducing a topic Ricky wasn’t versed in, but Gyuvin was the only other person you knew had watched the show you were watching, and you were itching to talk about it with somebody who understood. But, you’d pushed it too far, and he’d gotten a bit upset that you were focusing on Gyuvin when he had barged into your date.

“Aw, but [First] is my friend, too.”

“And, if we were both drowning, she’d choose me over you. What’s your point?”

Gyuvin burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as he wobbled towards the door. You held back your laughter as best you could, nearly losing it as Gyuvin struggled to put on the pair of bright yellow Crocs he decided to wear when he walked over. He opened the door and slammed it shut, yet you could still hear him laughing outside.

Then, you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You laughed so hard that you also had to hold your stomach, and Ricky marched away from you, ignoring the halfassed apologies that fell from your lips.

gyuvin

gyuvin isn’t usually a jealous guy but he can get jealous, as opposed to hao and matthew who virtually never get jealous

when he gets jealous though it’s somewhat upsetting

it usually means something happened that wounded his pride or made him feel insecure, which you don’t enjoy obviously

so 99.9% of the time, if gyuvin is jealous, it’s because one of the members did something to/with you that he wasn’t super okay with

it’s never anything minute, like one of them liking an instagram post or something stupid, rather something happening under his nose

he loves and respects them a lot so the idea that they did something with his s/o without him knowing makes him super duper unhappy

and then he’ll start to think that there’s something they have that he didn’t, so he gets a bit insecure, too

but he absolutely will convince himself it’s not a big deal so then he’s just in an extra bad mood for the rest of the day

you usually have to squeeze whatever’s wrong out of him and, when you manage to, you feel really bad

because usually whatever happened to upset him was something you thought you’d addressed with him and/or thought he knew about

like ricky, he gets most jealous over things that happen between you and ricky

because you’re all close in age and gyuvin and ricky spend all of their time together, you’re obviously friends with him too

and, in ricky’s seasonal instagram wrap up post, he notices a selfie of you two in what he thinks was a hangout you had together without him knowing based on the background

it ruins his day so fast :( but you make sure to patch up the misunderstanding

GYUVIN HATES THE WAY HE FEELS as he gears up to speak, twiddling his thumbs while you sit across from him at the table, a frown painting your face. He doesn’t like it when you look sad, and he doesn’t like feeling this way or addressing that he feels it. So, when the time comes where he has to talk about it, it eats him up from the inside out.

“Did you hang out with Ricky? Without me?”

You immediately furrow your eyebrows, as if you’re confused. “Not that I know of? I barely even text Ricky outside of the group chat the three of us have. Where’d you get that idea?”

Embarrassed, Gyuvin decides to pull up the post, turning his phone to face you. You take it from his hands, bringing it closer to your face so that you can get a better look at it. Then, recognition floods your features, and your frown turns into a smile. “That was when we roadtripped to the beach. Not pictured here are you and Taerae, who were getting us coffee.”

Gyuvin snatches the phone back, feeling even more embarrassed. He zooms in on the background parts, ignoring you and Ricky, quickly realizing that the filter Ricky put on the picture made the water look much bluer than it actually had been, leading him to believe you’d gone on your own separate beach trip. Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Gyuvin smiled crookedly.

“My bad.”

gunwook

i actually struggled with this

on one hand i don’t think gunwook would get jealous easily

he’s a very reasonable boyfriend and has quite literally never wronged you

on the other hand i do think he would get jealous somewhat frequently

in the same way as taerae, it’s very quiet jealousy, but you will literally never know with him

he won’t ever bring it up after it happens and will just. move on

he also might get a little snarky with whoever approached you afterwards, but never when you’re around, so you are none the wiser

if you find out gunwook got jealous, you are finding out from other people, which you think is absolutely insane

one day you’ll be like cordially chatting with gyuvin and he’ll bring up this one time gunwook got super mega jealous over one of your guy friends and how it haunted him for months and you’re like ??? what

gyuvin is like you DIDN’T know? and then you learn about every single time gunwook has gotten jealous and then told him + yujin + ricky about it

apparently it was so obvious to the boys that hanbin literally asked him about it

you’re flabbergasted 

so then you approach gunwook like “wtf is this?” and he’s like

“oh yeah”

what do you mean OH YEAH?

you’re actually so shocked

gunwook isn’t the type to get jealous of the boys though like that just straight up won’t happen

doesn’t matter who you’re talking to, how much time you spend with them, etc

he knows they’d never pull something with you ever so you could literally go on a remote vacation to the amazon rainforest with NO cell service with like hanbin and he wouldn’t give a shit

TAERAE WAS BUSY, which meant you’d dragged Hanbin along with you to go shopping for Christmas presents for the boys. You’d been dating Gunwook long enough that you felt like it was a good way to show gratitude for them, and Hanbin agreed to take you to the mall to get the gifts.

Of course, you couldn’t take Gunwook, because you were planning on buying a good chunk of his gift, too, which meant you hadn’t told him where you were going. So, when he called, you were somewhat apprehensive to pick up.

Hanbin, on the other hand, looked terrified.

“Can I come over? I’m bored,” he asked, and you held back the urge to laugh as you stared at Hanbin, who looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“I’m Christmas-present shopping with Hanbin, actually. Sorry.”

Hanbin’s jaw dropped, likely at the fact that you just came right out with it, but you weren’t worried in the slightest. “Oh, okay. That’s cool. Have fun. Tell Hanbin I said hello.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

He hung up, and Hanbin’s jaw dropped farther. “He just…doesn’t care? Like at all?”

You gave him an inquisitive look, as if you didn’t understand what he was implying. “Is he supposed to?"

thank you for reading !

tags: @happysmileybee

[brethilach]

Headcanon: Dwarves have event-oriented culture(s). Let me explain.

When I say "event-oriented" I mean that their activies and doings in the day are centered around events rather than strict timeframes, and therefore do not "begin" until a certain amount of people have shown up. Most people come and go as they please, parties often go late into the night, many have a "if you're on time, you're early; if you're late, you're on time" mentality. For example, if someone says they're throwing a party at 6:00, what they're actually saying is that you're setting up the party at 6:00 and the party itself won't start until a couple hours later — and for parties at someone's house specifically, there is no set time to end. People will often put a delay of at least 30 mins just to be sure the host is ready, and people closer to the host might arrive before the scheduled time to help organize. So if you show up on time, you're expected to help set up. Then the party will often go for hours on end, so most just show up when they can and then stay as late as they want. Time is (often) treated like a suggestion and it is totally acceptable or even sometimes socially expected for you to be late (because the set time can sometimes actually be the time people begin preparing for the event).

Most real-life event-oriented cultures are centered in places near the equator (Brazil especially comes to mind for me), and I think the reason behind this is because there's so much warmth and time during the day that it isn't much of a problem for events to go late into the night — whereas for places north of the equator (who usually have stricter time-oriented cultures), there's only so much time in the day before things start getting very dark and cold (impractical for... everything, really), so you need to be more strict with how you spend your time.

For Dwarves, I think it would be the opposite scenario, but would still come back to the same cultural phenomenon. Because most Dwarves live underground in the mountains and probably don't see much of the Sun in their day to lives, they don't need to worry about it getting dark or cold outside because they're not outside all the time to begin with!! I'm thinking about how the Dwaves in the book actually stop Bilbo from getting a lamp for the meeting because they just "like the dark" and tell him that there are "many hours left until dawn" (when it seems as though it's already fairly late for Bilbo at that point).

I don't think they would see (solar) time as a binding. They'd see it as just a guideline at best (and probably have their own methods of keeping time too, actually, but that's a different conversation).

This could be reason behind why all of the Dwarves arrived to Bilbo's house at drastically different times (at least in the book) and the "party" didn't actually begin until most everyone was there. The only one amongst them I think who was really considered late (in the movie) was Thorin, but no one even mentioned it after he said he "lost his way" and explained he just had a hard time finding Bilbo's house (they probably kept their mouths shut in part because he's their King, but even when Gandalf pointed out that he wasn't there before, Dwalin seemed very nonchalant about it).

Think about what happens in the book: Thorin tells Bilbo (in his letter) that they will meet at the Green Dragon to depart from the Shire at 11:00, and explicitly says they expected him to be "punctual." Bilbo wakes up at 10:45 in a panic, rushes out of the door, and runs a mile south to arrive at the Green Dragon "just on the stroke of eleven". When Bilbo apologizes, Dwalin says "don't be precise, and don't worry!" (despite the fact that the letter seemed to clearly state that he should be precise). If you put this in the context of a Dwarven event-orientated culture, they would have meant they would meet at the Green Dragon at 11:00 to prepare for departure. Whereas Bilbo most likely would have intepreted it as though they departing at 11:00 exactly. Thorin's definition of being precise (in this sense) would be "you should start preparing the leave your house at 11" — rather than "we're leaving the Green Dragon at 11 and if you're not there by then we'll just leave without you" (which is probably what Bilbo thought). I imagine that Shire-Hobbits likely have a much stricter time-orientated culture where events start whether or not you've shown up, you're expected to be early regardless of the set time, and being more than a few minutes late is like a social death sentence (just taking into consideration Bilbo's behavior and the fact that jirt pretty obviously based the Shire on pre-industrial Britain)

This is just my headcanon though! I just think it's a neat concept to think about.

[generalsdiary]

a stupid bet

gn!reader x Dr. Ratio

part two here

warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, cursing (?)

word count: 10k~

a/n: I don't know which demon possessed me to write a 10k fic about a character that isn't playable yet, istg I need help (the worst thing is I could've written even more, send help + if he is ooc mb he isn't out yet), not beta read (we die like Cocolia), Kavetham's son has me in a chokehold

description: you accept to do a bet to lighten up Dr. Ratio, one of your work colleagues and also a rival, you're not too fond of each other. things take a sharp turn when you do something quite haste to win the bet (could come off as a slower burn fic, rivals to something more?)

It was a bet. Your coworkers were certain no one could do, especially not you but now it fell onto you. To lighten him up.

Rivals of years, you and Veritas Ratio disliked each other for a long time. For some dumb reason, you were stern on doing this bet, the group of them and you stood to the side and you observed him, the way he stood next to his desk with a neutral expression on his face. Knowing your usual relationship, you were doomed to fail so your mind went to at least making him surprised. That should count to something, right?

It is past saving when you walk towards him. "Thought you could help me a bit."

He sighs, already annoyed at you. "What is it?"

Rather clumsily you point to his cheek, no idea what you should do.

He looked at his cheek, then back to you. Your pointing and leaning made him even more annoyed than he already was — he found it amusing that this was your idea of humor.

"Ah, the other one" You try to save yourself

Another sigh. Another glance. There was nothing on the other one either.

"You can't see it-" You mention.

He squints his eyes at you. He doesn't have time for your games. "Why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to see then."

"A crumb," you say simply. "Shall I?" Digging your grave deeper.

He raises a brow. He knew you had a big ego, but he was honestly surprised you really thought he would fall for this. “Sure, go ahead.”

In hopes this would at least catch him off guard, you reach with your hand to move the imaginary crumb, your fingers caressing his cheek and then pulling him in for a kiss.

His eyes widen, surprised, his heartbeat quickening, while he finds you irritating... he also finds you attractive. for some reason.. the kiss continues for a bit, his breath coming out in short gasps. you weren't expecting it to work.

Now you pull back, he is stunned, maybe a tad less irritated at you. You two stare at each other for a moment. The only noise is your heavy breathing, and something is cooking below the surface.

He stares at you for a bit longer, breath coming out in short gasps, as he processes what happened. Then he breaks the stare, his eyes scanning the area — some of your coworkers were watching, and probably laughing. But he didn’t care. At least... he didn’t want to care. He wanted to focus on you. Your eyes met his again, and you could see the blush still present on his cheeks, the warm look in his eyes.

You feel confused in this moment, what are these... feelings... you mentally shrug them off. "uhm... I gotta go-" You walk over to the co-workers to see if this counts as winning the bet.  As you turned to walk over to the observing co-workers, you could sense that his eyes were still watching you.

The acquaintances agreed that you won the bet. But found your way of achieving that interesting, especially since you two dislike each other. They leave and, the space is empty when you return to reading some papers.

After you’ve left, he spends a few moments pondering the event, and then, in an impulsive decision, he decides he wants to find you again. It wasn’t just the bet that he became, later on, aware of, or his wounded ego, that had him wanting to seek you out; he was intrigued by this newfound interaction. He wants to see where it leads.

He finds you sitting at a table. When you notice him approaching, you can feel the gaze of your coworkers. As he reaches you, you can feel their eyes still on you; there are some giggles and laughs in the background. When he speaks, his voice is a tad low. He also appears to be a bit timid, which isn’t the usual for him: “..May I join you?”

"What is it, Veritas?" Your voice was cold, and you look up at him.

He swallows, then glances at some of your co-workers. “I…” Your coworkers are still observing you with curiosity, so he lowers his voice while not looking at them. “... want to talk. To you.”

"We are talking," you say back, your gaze on the papers in your hands. You're dismissive towards him.

He hesitates but pushes on with his request, still keeping his voice low. “.. I want to talk to you in private.”

"Do we have anything to talk about?" you scoff, deeply ignoring the way it felt to kiss him. Chasing those thoughts away. You could see his face change to a microexpression you just about missed as he realized you hadn’t yet picked up on what he hoped for.

“You and I, we..” He hesitates to continue. You’d always been so formal, or irritating, with him. "we.. don’t get along.. usually.”

"We don't. So, leave? Why would we go talk in private?" you say. You knew this was about the bet. This was about the kiss - you chase those thoughts away, no. You will not think about not even for a second how soft- no. Stop. You return to reality. He is talking.

A moment of his hesitation. He lets out a small sigh before speaking again. “...We don’t get along, that’s correct. But..” He gestures to the observers and the whispers and giggles you can still hear in the background.

“...I think we should still talk privately.”

You sigh as well, rolling your eyes, finding his persistent attitude annoying. You stand up from your desk. "Lead the way, Doctor Ratio."

He smiles a bit at your response, and you can feel some hint of amusement.

He turns to lead you away from the others, turning a corner. Just as you begin to turn the corner you hear the observing coworkers make another comment; a girl says something about shipping.

"Private enough"? You ask after walking for a bit, looking around the empty hallway. it isn't a busy one usually.

He stops walking as you do, then looks at you for a moment. Your sarcasm is amusing him. He smiles at you, thinking of what to say. Then he begins to speak, and his facial expression is more relaxed than normal. “...I want to ask you something.”

"Ask." You sigh "What is it, Veritas?"

You could notice your words and attitude irking him, but, surprisingly, you could see him actually relaxing more as he spoke, a smile still plastered on his face. “...What is it that makes us dislike each other so much?”

You quickly answer. "We are both full of ourselves, intelligent, arrogant, and have zero patience for idiots. Is this why you wanted to talk in private- you're wasting my time, Veritas"

That response got a chuckle out of him, and you could tell he agreed with you, based on the way he nodded. A silence falls between you two, and then the silence is broken by him.. “...Have you ever wondered, as much as we are alike... how much we’re also different?” What a nonsensical question.

You are tired of him beating around the bush, so you decide to bring it up. "If this is about the bet- just- you're wasting my time"

Your dismissive attitude made him chuckle as you spoke. He thought about your statement. While the bet was an excuse to talk to you again, he had genuine thoughts in mind. Although, he didn’t let it show. “... It’s not about the bet. I just wanted to talk..”

"Why?"

You could sense the faintest hint of embarrassment in his voice, but otherwise, his expression was relaxed and casual. He says, “... Because I want to get to know you.”

You feel stunned, "...why?" Finding it strange he'd want anything to do with you.

That was the reaction he wanted. Your eyes were wide open, and you were surprised. He kept staring at you. He was aware of how ridiculous this might sound, but he meant it. He wants to know you. He found you irritating, yes, but there was something about you he wanted to explore more.

You shook your head gently, confused. "Veritas- what? Is this because of the-"

He sighs. “..The kiss? No. Yes, it made me think of you differently. But not in the way you seem to think.” He keeps his gaze on you. “The kiss made me realize I want to know you.”

"Why- what do you mean-" you stumbled over your sentences, unlike him. "Veritas- it is obvious you kissed back, no reason to" small exhale, since you were talking too fast "get to know me"

A small smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. “I kissed back, it’s true. But let me ask you something...”

He stares at you for a moment. "What did you feel when we kissed?"

You deadpan. "My emotions aren't your business.“ then you straight up lie. „-only hoping to win the bet.“-

He can’t help but chuckle. You lied, and he knew it; he could just tell from the way you spoke.

He keeps looking at you, the smile still present on his face.

“Do you think I believe it? I doubt you felt nothing while we kissed.”

„Doubt all you freaking want, Veritas“ you roll your eyes, „you can't prove shit“

He looks at you still, grinning now. You can see the amusement in his eyes, and the way he is staring, as if he’s seeing you for the very first time. “You’re right. I can’t prove you felt anything. All I have is my intuition. And my intuition says that you’re lying."

"You can't prove it." you cross your arms across your chest. "Stop these accusations and your 'intuition' is wrong." You sound arrogant, and dismissive, trying to wiggle your way out of the conversation.

He chuckles once more, then he speaks, a bit more directly this time. “My intuition has never done me wrong. You can keep on denying it, acting arrogant—and that’s fine. But I bet you anything that, if I were to kiss you again, a second time, you would kiss me back. Just as passionately as the first time."

"You were the one to kiss passionately the first and only time we kissed." you shake your head "Veritas this is a waste of time- you want to 'get to know' me, oh please" gesturing with your hand.

Even as you speak, he is still laughing. He could tell your pride is wounded.

He keeps a straight, smug face. His words carry no arrogance, but the way he speaks has enough confidence for both of you. “...Then let me prove it to you. Just let me kiss you again.”

You are quiet for a moment too long because you are surprised at his suggestion, and refuse to think again about- "no."

He knows he’s caught you off guard. Your silence is an answer itself. One that just gives him more confidence. He smirks.

„...Afraid?”

„I am a scientist like you, I am not afraid. I kissed you in the first hand. I don't need to prove anything“

He chuckles. “You’re absolutely right, you don’t need to prove anything. Except you kissed me for the sake of a bet. But I kissed you for the sake of understanding you.” He’s still smirking he is planning something, but he keeps his gaze on you. “..And I bet the kiss meant more for you than you care to admit.” There's a knowing look in his eyes.

"You didn't kiss me, why are you talking in the past tense?" you scoff when he attempts to change the situation around.

He raises his brow, slightly impressed, and shrugs. “..Alright, you’re right. Let me change that.”

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out and pulls your face toward his. You could feel his warm breath on your face as he stared at you for a second or two, and just when it felt as though he would actually kiss you again. Completely surprised you gasp at the sudden proximity.

You can tell he’s enjoying the moment, since he leans in just a tad more, just enough for your lips to almost touch; his breath is hot and heavy, and his eyes still keep locking with yours as he waits.

It takes you a moment to place your hands on his chest and push him away. "Veritas, stop these foolish actions." You feel flustered at his advances.

He lets out an amused chuckle and steps slightly away. Though he has stopped his action, he is still smiling—which he knows is annoying for you to see. He still has a smirk and speaks. “..Do you think this was foolish of me?” There's something calculated in his voice.

"You won't prove anything and the one and only kiss that happened happened cos of the bet. Nothing more"

He keeps his smirk. “..Then how do you explain the chemistry between us? It’s all there, whether you’d like to admit it or not.” The neverending banter between the two scientists continues, both two proud to be that vulnerable with the other or to even take the other seriously.

"Screw chemistry. We dislike each other. And you pulled me away from my work to chat privately 'cos you wish to get to know me better? And now you wanna prove to me that I'm wrong by wanting to kiss me again? waste of my time-" you puff, you didn't even get a chance to think about the kiss today, and this isn't the moment to think about that. You can see the smirk fall for a second when you begin speaking, but then he smiles again. There is clearly something you aren't telling him.

He listens to your rant, and it only furthers his conviction. “..I agree, we do dislike each other. But that doesn't mean there can't be anything else. There are layers to dislike, and to liking someone.” He pauses. “..I want to see those layers.”

You roll your eyes „What I felt during the kiss is hope to win the bet that's it.“

He chuckles and speaks right away. “...Fine, I'll pretend to believe you, and not the way your face flushes as you speak. I'll pretend I don't feel the tension between us. And, I'll pretend that I don't want to kiss you again.” He takes a step forward and leans in again. “..And if you’re sure you didn't feel anything, then you shouldn’t care if I kiss you again. Because then, there's nothing to hide, right?”

"Well- no- maybe I don't want to be touched or something" you sigh, your brain just now processing the information. "you want to kiss me again?" the soft blush creeps up your cheeks. He wants to kiss you again? You don't know what to think, or feel about that, and this isn't the time to process that either.

His smirk grew as you spoke. “Or, maybe you don’t want to be touched because you’ll feel something. If there’s nothing to hide, then there’s nothing to refuse. Just let me kiss you once more, just to prove that you’re lying to me.”

„I'm not lying.“ You crossed your arms.

He smirks once more, and a hint of satisfaction crosses his face.

“Then let me kiss you. Why refuse, if you believe that all it was is only a bet? I want to kiss you to prove you are lying about not caring about the kiss. I want to kiss you to prove you are lying when you claim to have felt nothing, that it didn't feel good. So it isn’t about winning, isn’t it..? It’s about you being embarrassed at how much the kiss felt good to you.”

„Why are you so needy about wanting to kiss me- we dislike each other-„ you hush your voice as a coworker passes by, you two were still standing in the hallway. „-and no point for me to kiss you to prove a point. I'm above that.“

He follows your movement and lowers his voice to match yours. “...The reason I’m so adamant about wanting this kiss, is because I think we’ll have a revelation. I know we dislike each other, but..” He pauses for a moment. “...But there’s more to us than that. So come on, if you don’t have anything to hide, kiss me again. No one else is watching.”

„No“ you stand your ground „I don't need to prove it, Veritas“ Your pride wouldn't let you do anything less than stand your ground.

He chuckles at your stubbornness. “...I have to give you credit for that, it’s admirable. But I’ll keep on trying until it works.” Still keeping his voice low, he speaks once more. “...Kiss me. Please.”

He sees your stern gaze falter when he asks so blatantly and also says please.

„My emotions during what I did for the bet are none of your business-„ Your voice getting hushed as another coworker passes by „-Veritas.“

He takes that small sign of weakness and uses it as an advantage, leaning towards you a bit. His breath is still hot on your face, and you can see his smirk grow wider. He speaks, with an amused, almost teasing tone of voice. “..Are you refusing to kiss me so adamantly because you might actually enjoy it? Because you have emotions you don’t want me to know about?”

You sigh. „Veritas- cmon, this is pointless at this point.“

He keeps leaning closer to you, and he speaks while still teasing you. “..Well, you keep denying everything I said about you. You keep insisting that you only kissed me for the bet. So then, prove it and kiss me again—and feel nothing. Prove it right now.”

„I'm tired of this, Veritas.“ you sigh. Even in your apparent exhaustion, he feels the tension in your voice, the small crackle of doubt and curiosity in your words. Again, he speaks as he keeps leaning in, his breath still hot on your face.

“...Just one more kiss. To prove you're telling the truth. Then nothing else.”

„To shut you up, fine“ When your lips meet, you are doing your best to not move them in the beginning, to not touch him, and to stay fully still.

And you do, at first, stay fully still. Your lips are warm, and you can feel him leaning in more and more, but you refuse to do anything in return.

After some time, however, you feel a shift. With his movements, he’s now coaxing you. He pulls you towards him a bit more, his breath is still warm, and he’s now kissing you, softly but passionately, as he wants you to kiss back... He notices how you aren't budging putting on a good performance of not feeling anything. He wants to see more of a response, and he begins to nudge you to see how you would react. He places his hands on either side of your face and continues the kiss. He wants to see you lose control, instead of being this disciplined. He wants you to feel passion.

His hands actually touching your face almost makes you lose your focus, but not quite. He can feel you start to crack under pressure. It’s almost cute to watch you struggle. He decides to test his theory; he begins pulling you against himself, your bodies now pressed against each other. One arm wraps around your waist.

When you feel him pull you closer the focus breaks, your lips depart and you return the kiss, the kiss itself turning longer. Not even caring when a coworker passes by, your eyes are closed.

He can feel you responding to him finally, instead of trying to prove a point. Your eyes are closed, you’re no longer trying to hold back. His fingers trace your cheek as he keeps pulling you even closer so that your bodies are now up against each other.

Your back against a wall and he pressed against you, your hand traveling up to rest on his chest as the kiss kept going, turning more passionate

You can feel him press himself against you, and he wraps his other arm around your back; both his arms are now on you. He is taking charge and is leading the kiss. His fingers move from your cheek to your hair, as he pulls on it, and keeps the passion steady. His hands, your lips, his body pressed against your back... Everything feels so close and so warm... It’s as though no one or anything else exists except for you two.

And it feels good.. the kiss feels good for the both of you, each touch, you both feel the slow burn in your lungs for air, but keep kissing.

It feels extremely good. To feel your lips against his, to feel the heat and passion that keeps growing. Your arms around him, his arms around you. The feeling of your warm body against his body. The slow burn in your lungs, yet wanting more and more... The only sound that continues to play is just the sound of you both slowly breathing together, as your lips continue to lock together. Each touch brings in more and more passion...

You pull away, leaning his head against a wall to breathe. Your lips are swollen slightly as you breathe heavily.

Veritas pulls away as well and leans back from the kiss with a smirk. His lips were also plump, and swollen. Your breathing is heavy and quick, and he can see that your cheeks are slightly red. He seems slightly pleased and looks at you with that same teasing, smug smile.

„Proves nothing“ you deny it immediately.

His chuckle grows louder. “..You really hate admitting you enjoyed it, don't you? Even now, even after the long kiss. So much denial. So many excuses.”

„Tsk, you proved nothing. I'm just a good kisser that's all“

He laughs at your continued denial. “..You sound like a child now. Good kisser, who are you trying to fool? I saw your breathing and your expressions. I felt you getting more and more into it until the kiss became passionate. You’re denying the truth now just because you don't want to admit it.”

„There's nothing to admit except that we dislike each other, Veritas.“

“If there’s nothing to admit then there's no problem if I kiss you one more time, right?” He begins to lean in towards you and raises his brows as he waits for a response.

„What for?“ you protest, but the protest is much smaller than when he wanted to kiss you the last time. You can see his amused smirk form again, but he keeps his demeanor calm as he replies.

“..For the last time. To really get proof from you that the kiss meant nothing. A long, slow kiss, where you can’t deny anything. Surely you won’t say no to another kiss from a good kisser like me, now will you?”

„You have your proof, Veritas!“ He whispers it loudly as someone passes by.

His smirk grows wider, and he leans even closer this time. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he speaks in the same tone as you. “...There’s obviously still something missing. If you’re going to insist that the kiss meant nothing and that you have nothing to prove, then you must have no problem if I give you one last kiss.”

„You got enough of my lips today.“ You raise your chin, shaking your head gently. He really did… get to kiss you a lot today.

He chuckles at this, and even though he has heard it before, his smile grows wide. The more playful you get in your protests, the more confident he gets in his stance. “Just another one won’t hurt then, right? I mean, after all... you’re the supposed ‘good kisser’ here. And I believe that you’re good enough to kiss me in a way that makes me realize that the kiss meant nothing to you, correct?”

You sigh. „You aren't letting this go?“

He laughs at your sigh. “...Just another kiss to shut me up, that’s all. Come on, it should be easy then. Unless you’re afraid of what might happen?” He leans closer and raises an eyebrow.

„Fine. One last to prove you wrong again. How do you want it this time?“ You question him, annoyed at first sight, sighing.

“..Same as last time. Slow and passionate, with you completely giving in to your feelings. But just one more request this time. Make it longer... I want this kiss to last a little longer than the last one.”

„The last one was too long, and passionate. Why would I repeat it?“

He chuckles and replies, his voice now teasing. “...Do it how I want this time. Make me believe that the last 10 minutes or so was nothing but a game. Prove to me that you’re just a good kisser. Prove it by giving in to me and my kiss. I want to feel all your emotions. I want to make you lose control. So do exactly what I say.”

„I am just a good kisser“ you sigh „Fine, c'mere“ you gesture to him, as you are still leaning on the wall, to come to kiss you.

Veritas seems amused by your continued protest, and his smile grows. But he does do as you say; he begins to close the distance between the two of you until your bodies are once again pressed against each other. You can see the smug smile on his face, knowing he has gained the upper hand in this 'game’. He begins to kiss you, as you requested, and he pulls you into him with his hands on your waist, letting the kiss last longer...

You again try to hold back for a moment, but his hands on your waist relax you... you kiss back.

Veritas feels you relax, and he continues the kiss, using his hands on your waist to pull you even closer to him. His fingers trail up and down your back, and he is now fully embracing you in his lips. He is taking a deep breath in now, as he keeps kissing you. You can feel the heat of your bodies pressed against each other, and feel each of the sighs from your both. This kiss seems like it will never end, and this 'game' is now in another league entirely.

You enjoy the kiss, the soft caressing of his fingers on your body. Your hands go up his torso to hold onto your shirt, one hand moving higher to tangle in his hair.

Your touch causes him to feel something even deeper within himself, something that he hasn't felt in a long time. His passion starts growing more intense the longer the kiss goes, and he can feel you letting yourself go. The heat from your body is so intense, and the scent of his cologne combined with your scent is intoxicating. Your fingers running through his dark blue hair are sending shivers down his spine, and the embrace of his hands around your waist is like a safe shelter around you.

Then you both get lost in the kiss, with no thoughts, or rivalry or who is passing by, just each other's touch and lips. Other thoughts quickly vanish from your mind, and all you can focus on is this kiss. Your bodies are pressed tightly against each other, the heat growing hotter as time goes on. Nothing is more important right now; there's just both of your lips and the two of your bodies. Nothing else exists right now. It feels like the kiss will never end, and it feels so right. The passion is undeniable and unrelenting.

In a moment you separate to breathe, technically where the kiss should've ended, just before he puts his lips on yours again you exhale and whisper his name „Veritas...“ And meet his lips as he kisses you once more.

Your whisper sends a shiver down his spine, and he pulls you closer once more. At this moment, his name is enough. The way you said it so softly, almost in a whisper, is enough.

It doesn't even register to you that your lips separated and started another, until you hear a group of people, about to turn your corner, who are talking. You pull your lips away, leaning away from him, your head leaning onto a wall, and moving your hands off of him.

It makes you realize just where the two of you are standing. Veritas looks down, slightly embarrassed but you can see the faintest of smiles on his lips. His fingers brush your cheek as you both break the embrace. The lingering scent of his cologne is still heavy in the air, and you can feel the heat of the hug still lingering on your body. You can feel his breath against your cheek.

People pass by, and you don't say anything.

Once you both seem to fully realize the gravity of what just happened, the reality of your situation kicks in. It was an innocent but long kiss, made only longer when you had both decided to keep the whole thing going. The voices of people are louder now, and the two of you are both still breathing heavily and still hot from the heat of the long kiss. The moment is now over, though the scent of his cologne and the lingering taste of the kiss still lingers.

You are preparing yourself for your accusations of lying and that it wasn't just you being a good kisser, you curse yourself for mumbling his name earlier.

There is a moment of silence between the two of you. The noise of people passing by gets ever louder, but it still seems faint to you. The scent of his cologne is still lingering in the air, filling your lungs and your mind. You can feel the breath of his voice against your cheek, as you still feel every inch of the touch from his body that you just experienced.

He looks into your eyes, and for a moment, the silence, the smell of his cologne, and the taste of his kiss are all so intoxicating that it's almost like nothing else exists. Your lips are slightly swollen from his kiss, and there are still some traces of his saliva mixed into your lips.

„Veritas...“ you start, attempting to make up another excuse

He looks at you with a teasing and playful look on his lips. From the expression on his face and the way he's staring at you, it's like he knows he's cornered you now. He smiles at you, and a small twinkles in his eyes. He can't help but chuckle. His look is now mixed with amusement as well because he knows your pride will stop you from admitting anything. He raises one of his eyebrows and waits for you to continue.

When he doesn't interrupt you, like you hoped he would, and then he even smirks and raises an eyebrow...you know you are defeated, you can't make a truthful excuse, caught red-handed… you turn away from him, lightly hitting the wall with your hand and resting your head against it and he can hear you mumble a quiet „... shit“

Veritas’s smirk grows wider as he looks at the defeated look on your face. You still refuse to actually speak, and he can’t help but feel amused at the realization that your pride is completely keeping you from admitting what is obvious. He knows that all he has to do now is let the silence set in. The silence in itself and your attitude towards him makes it obvious.

You turn back around and face him again, and the exact moment you meet his eyes you look elsewhere.

He laughs quietly as he stares at you. Your blush is bright, and your face is slightly red, which is why the first thing you do after turning back around is to avoid eye contact. He can't help but smirk at this, and he can't stop himself from speaking. "Can't look at me anymore, can you? Am I that captivating?"

„You're like… average“ you scoff, not looking at him still. Which almost makes you laugh but you manage to hold it in, the lie too obvious as you say it aloud.

He scoffs, not able to hide his amusement. He knows damn well he's not average. He can see that you know he's not 'average' as well.  "You want me to take that as a way of you finally admitting that you let yourself enjoy that kiss? Or is this still some desperate attempt to play it off as nothing?"

„Veritas please stop this torture.“ You complain.

He laughs softly for a moment and then sighs. There is a moment of silence again, as he stares at you. "I think I've made this painful enough. If you just admit the kiss meant something to you too, then the 'torture' will stop. Do you want that?"

You nod „Fine. It is rather obvious now.“

His whole demeanor shifts immediately. His mischievous grin that was playing on his lips immediately turned into a soft, genuine smile. He can see that the game has ended and that now he is talking to the real you, the one who let themselves get carried away with that kiss. He has a look of affection that he had been hiding behind the disguise of mockery.

You aren't meeting his gaze, arms crossed, lips swollen, cheeks blushed... and if someone were to come close enough they'd smell the two different scents… your perfume and his cologne.

He chuckles because he sees that you still can't quite meet his gaze just yet. He stares at your lips for a moment, thinking of that kiss and just how intense it all seemed. The scents of both your perfumes are still lingering in the air, and for a moment, you feel like you're still locked in that kiss.

„Fine. Fine. Fine.“ you sigh „Bet was the bet, nothing special, earlier today. I- then- just- didn't expect you to kiss back. I didn't feel anything special.“ And yet later on now... you have kissed three more times.

He laughs softly, knowing exactly how wrong your entire statement was. Both of you know it. It's obvious that you actually cared enough to play this 'game' with him, and you felt enough to get lost in that kiss. He can spot the hesitation in your eyes, the way you avoided your gaze, and the stutter in your words. But he still can't help but tease you. "Is that right? If you felt nothing special, then why did you let it go on for so much longer than it had to? And why the second kiss? And... the third one?"

„No, I meant the bet… was nothing special. Well.. mostly“ Your honesty is a double-edged sword.

That answer alone tells him everything that he needs to know. "Mostly? And what was the rest of it then? Were the other kisses something special for you? Or are you just gonna say they were just you being a good kisser?" He scoffs quietly.

„The bet one... I didn't expect you to kiss back- I kissed you just cos of the bet- to "lighten" you up, and then you returned the kiss.. and that was... surprising.. and then you wanted to chat in private and requested kisses to prove a point.“

He sighs silently, hearing your explanation. He can feel that your words are just excuses, that the kisses still mean more to you than you let on. The more you say, the more he smiles. It's clear that you actually want to continue this flirtation, even if you might not want to admit it. "Is that so? Because it seemed as if it meant something even during our bet... and the whole conversation we had in private. It all meant something to you, didn't it?"

„I think it was obvious I'm too deep in to make excuses after the last one- remember I turned around, punched the wall- I had nothing to say- why are you pushing this?“

A soft smile spreads across his face, and he chuckles. He can see that this flirtatious exchange has gone far beyond a simple game of proving a point. There's something about you that simply has pulled him in completely, something that he just cannot help but tease and flirt with. He's now just enjoying it and enjoying you as well. "I'm pushing this because I want to see you admit more about your feelings. And... I like teasing and flirting with you. Because it feels so damn good just being around you."

„Since when do you feel good being around me? We dislike each other. I...“ Your words are honest, „I don't know why it felt so good..“

He laughs softly, amused again that you refuse to actually see what you're feeling now. "We dislike each other, huh? So that was what our conversation was then... A long, intimate debate about how much we dislike each other. And that whole kiss, just a simple game of me teasing you. And this too."

His soft laugh is filled with a teasing tone, as he begins to lean closer and brush his nose against yours.

You sigh „Veritas... it appears to be... complicated“

He hums, as he leans in closer. His words are softer now, as he speaks with that same teasing, playful voice. "Complicated, huh? How complicated? Are you starting to admit to yourself that you feel something between us?"

„I can admit. But I do not know what it is, I only found out today and so did you, unless you're hiding something from me?“ You speak quietly.

Your quietness only sparks him even more, as he continues to stay just a few inches away from your lips and your face. He looks at you with that mischievous smirk on his face, as he can sense your confusion. "So does that mean the kisses were not just meaningless flirts then? Because from my perspective, you seemed to be enjoying it a lot. I'm not hiding anything. Also realized today."

„You enjoyed them too.“ You softly say.

His smirk grows wider; he can't help but love the teasing moments like this. Both of them enjoy these little flirts, but neither wants to be the first to just admit their feelings. "You... you're right. I enjoyed the hell out of every kiss. It was intense, it was passionate... and I couldn't help but get completely lost in it."

You look into the distance recalling the way it all felt... You zone out for a couple of moments.

He hums, sensing that the two of you are now getting more serious. Neither of you can deny the chemistry between you both, and that has only grown the more the two of you have kissed. He can see how much your thoughts are wandering now, and he loves that he has you this speechless, filled with so much emotion, and yet so clueless about how you're feeling. This is the most vulnerable that you have looked at so far, and he wants to keep it that way...

He moves closer now, getting just inches away from your face. He can smell your cologne and the air that is filled with both of your scents. The air feels so heavy and so full of emotions, where every inch of you feels so close in his presence. His voice is soft, and he begins to speak softly, almost in a whisper. "If you truly do want us to end this little game of back and forth... then you can just admit it now. Say the words, just say how these kisses meant something to you."

„I already did, Veritas“ you sigh.

His smirk grows and he nods his head, his eyes still staring right at you. The silence at that moment makes the feeling all the more intense, and even just being so close to one another felt so intoxicating. The quietness of his words had you feeling nervous, feeling excited all over again, and yet even that moment felt so real and...so honest. "I know you've been hinting at it....“

„The kiss felt good, you felt good.“

"Good? You felt good, I felt good... but is that it? Is that just the full story? Because I have a feeling that there's more."

You roll your eyes „Veritas Ratio, I won't repeat myself.“

The teasing moments that had made him feel so intoxicated earlier have suddenly turned into something else... something deeper. It felt as if the two of them were not playing games but expressing their honesty. He leans even closer now, as close as he can possibly get without actually touching your lips. "How about a deal, then? I will stop pushing you to admit how you've felt... if you say one more thing that you haven't said yet."

You meet his eyes „What is it?“

He lets the silence settle and linger for a moment, as he stares at you with that same, mischievous grin on his face. He can sense that this is finally getting far more serious, and that has his attention completely drawn in. He leans in even closer until he is practically touching your lips with his own, he's so close. "Tell me what made you enjoy every single one of our kisses... and just how much you actually have enjoyed me."

„Those are stupid questions, Veritas“ you scoff quietly due to close proximity. He is just trying to tease at this point.

He chuckles softly at the scoff, his eyes narrowing, but still holding that same mischievous grin on his lips. The proximity feels intense, the closeness of their faces, the heat coming from either of them, the two of them being so close that their bodies are almost touching. "But I don't think they're stupid at all. I don't think they're stupid because I want to hear each word from your lips, each and every reason as to why you've liked our kisses so far."

„How about you talk a bit about why you wanted to kiss me and your assumed feelings?“

His smirk grows wider, and a soft laugh exits his lips. You can sense the amusement in him still, but he also takes another look at you. He sighs and nods, and he looks away from you and speaks truthfully. "Why did I want to kiss you? Why did I enjoy them? The same reason as you, I think. Which is... because my emotions have been completely tied up around you. I want that closeness, I want that intimacy. That was the whole reason why I even continued flirting with you..."

You sigh, seemingly lost in thought, but if he asked you to look at him, he'd also see that you are smitten. Seeing that you are lost in thought, he doesn't say a word. You can see the expression of amusement on his face slowly fading, and being replaced with a more affectionate look and expression. He seems to sense the truth in your thoughts and the way your words have suddenly become more honest. You feel like if you asked him to look at you, the same expression of endearment would fill his eyes.

The kisses make your confused feelings bare, naked, vulnerable in front of him. You for some reason like him. And now you wait as to what he will do.

It's as if this unspoken understanding has been fully created between you both. You both seem to sense how deep these moments have become for one another, and it doesn't even need verbal words for you two to sense just how much these kisses really mean to you both. For the first time, you have fully revealed your emotions to one another.

All he can do is sigh, and he begins to speak softly again, the tease of a flirt just completely replaced by that of a heartfelt, affectionate moment. "It's true that these kisses felt good because I felt like I could finally express my emotions toward you. These kisses felt good because the whole reason I've been flirting with you is that... I've felt...this deep connection with you that I can't explain. This connection, I've wanted it to be more... I've wanted to be closer with you. And... all these kisses just felt so good because... because I've just wanted nothing but to be with you. Well, I only realized it recently."

„I'm surprised that we discovered this... after disliking each other for years up until this day.“

"We've finally discovered it, and I'm not surprised that neither one of us has admitted it earlier today. We've always been so stuck in this game of hatred that we've missed out on...something amazing. I guess you could say that we've played this game too long, and so it took a few kisses to finally start seeing just how wrong we both were."

You nod „Gods-„ you put your head into your hands „The rumors will be awful“ You remember hearing footsteps during the last kiss.

He sighs softly, as he places his hands onto the back of your head and gently begins to brush your hair with his fingers. It was true that the rumors were something you two would have to face, he felt like it would somehow be worth it. "Do you think we should really care about the rumors though? There's always going to be rumors, and this is one that you and I know is true. So, let them talk, but let us focus on what is really important."

You look up at him „Veritas...“

He grins softly, as he sees that your gaze has now met his. He feels so happy as if he can finally be honest with you at this moment. The rumors may spread, but you feel as if that would be a small price to pay for what it would be worth. "Yes?"

You just sigh softly.

He hums, as his hand begins to brush your chin, which leads him to gently stroke your cheek. The way you sighed so softly made him feel so...so warm and happy. You both were finally seeing the full truth of your feelings, and it felt as if everything bad in the world was melting away.

„We gotta go back to work...“ As your words break the silence of that tender moment, his smile fades away, and he sighs. It was true that all this was happening during working hours, and the both of you had been gone for a while already. "You're right, isn't it late already? We've been gone for too long..."

„Too long yes...“

He nods and pulls his hand away. "Yeah... we've both been gone too long. So, should we... should we go back before they notice?“

„Oh trust, they have noticed“

He chuckles softly, as he nods again. "Yeah, you're right about that. I'm just more surprised they hadn't come to check up on us yet."

„They wouldn't dare. They probably thought we were fighting… but the rumors will start soon.“

He nods. "They probably did. But you're right, rumors will definitely start spreading soon. I wonder what would they say about us though... about how far we went... about what we could have been doing in this hallway..."

You laugh „Ah yes“ in a mocking tone „Rumor spreads about Doctor Ratio and the lead researcher, long hated rivals seen making out in a hallway“

His smirk grows, as he chuckles softly, too. Your words seem hilarious, and yet they are also a bit...a bit too true. He can see that he would definitely not be surprised if this was suddenly the newest rumor around the office, with many, many different versions and details. "Lead researcher and hated rival found together... making out in a private room... for at least an hour. The rumors will probably even mention how long our kiss lasted, and just how much we wanted it to continue."

„Oh stop it“ you gesture as you two walk slowly back, just at the mention of the kiss you remember how good it felt.

He laughs softly and follows along, also remembering the kiss but feeling how it has made him more affectionate. He reaches his free hand over and rubs your shoulder, his touch feeling affectionate. "You know it's true. The way you feel, the way I feel, and the way they will now interpret what's going on. If I'm being honest."

You sigh „Probably “ you stop for a moment, closing your eyes in the memory of the kiss, his cologne taking you back.

He stops alongside you, as he smiles. He can't help but look at the way you have just closed your eyes as if you can picture the moments clearly and as if the kiss has become a core memory for you. He doesn't say a word, not even wanting to break that peaceful silence.

„Sorry-„ you open your eyes, realizing you stopped walking, giving him the perfect opportunity for him to also seize this moment and do it again. This time, he takes advantage of that moment, and he begins to lean in again cupping your cheek, his lips now almost touching yours. He holds his breath, his body beginning to lean towards you all on its own. He stops for just a moment, only a breath's distance away from your lips before he leans just a bit closer...

„Veritas-„ you speak his name.

Your words have become the trigger for this kiss, one that you will never forget and will always cherish. As he hears his name called, all those emotions inside of him suddenly begin to boil up. Your voice... the way you call his name has so much depth and feeling in it. The feeling of you saying his name is what sends him off the edge, as his mouth instantly meets yours...

You return it immediately, no longer pretending at the beginning of the kisses.

The two of you have finally let the kiss take over, as you return the passionate gesture in kind. Your kiss is no longer filled with the awkwardness or the tease of the flirt, it has become something passionate and almost...something more. Your voices may have spoken about how far you feel from one another, but the kiss you two had just shared speaks for itself, and it says so much more than words have ever could.

Your hand travels up to his hair pulling your lips closer.

He can't help but gasp as a loud moan escapes his lips, and the feeling of having his hair pulled fills him with even more energy. Your touch feels just the right amount of rough and soft, as he leans into that pull and meets your lips even further. That pull in his hair seems to have added just that little bit of spice to this passionate, energetic kiss.

You're surprised with his loud noise, and quickly swallow his moan with your lips, drowning the sound from anyone who may hear it.

The way you had instantly swallowed your moans had only brought him to moan even louder. This was more than just a simple kiss, this was an intense, passionate kiss. One that was completely out of control and only getting worse. It was exactly how this kiss should be, and he can't help but moan even louder in response, and he only pulls you in even closer now. You whine softly when he pulls you closer, you think how he will just get you both in trouble by being that loud. Truly a menace with the way he keeps making lewd noises.

He laughs quietly now, a soft and almost teasing laugh, as he pulls back for just a moment just to speak. "You know you like it when I pull you in this close. I can hear you whining, and it sounds so damn good."

„Did you have to moan- three times?“ you scold him, whispering.

He smirks at your scornful and seductive tone. "I mean...I could have just groaned once. That would have been enough for the effect, right?"

You stop your movements, your brain trying to imagine how his groaning would sound... you lean onto the wall behind you „Fuck... d- don't give my head ideas to imagine.“

He laughs at your reaction, a soft and teasing laugh once more. To you, he seems to have this way of making you feel both embarrassed and intrigued. This time is no different, as he leans just close enough so that he can whisper into your ear. "Don't worry my dear, now I have you picturing all sorts of things in your head..."

You whisper back „Fuck off“ And then you add „Don't you dare groan in my ear or I swear-„

He only laughs again, a bit more playfully this time. And then he whispers closely to your ear. "Just imagine me just groaning into your ear right now. It's almost as if I can hear your heart racing with that thought, it's so loud..."

„Veritas“ you warn „Don't you dare“ You feel like the energy and tension between you two is high now, and those types of noises would do some things to the both of you.

Instead of listening to your warning, he only leans in even further, to the point where he is whispering mere inches away from your ear. "Come on now, imagine the deep and sexy groan, the way my body almost presses into you. There's no denying this connection between us, dear..." The small nickname makes you smile.

You keep imagining, but you fear he'd actually groan on purpose which makes your knees weak. He senses your weakness, and so he whispers once more. "I could start to groan at any second now, and that thought alone probably makes you feel weak and weak in the knees. I bet that the thought of me just slowly groaning into your ear, sensually, makes your heart race with desire..."

You whisper back „Fuck off Veritas“ He is teasing at this point.

He laughs, and then he whispers back. "Why? You're thinking about it, aren't you? The thought of a deep, loud, sensual groan? The idea of it almost pushes you to your limits... to just let yourself become so overtaken by that feeling of desire..."

„I have to return to work you menace-„ you whisper.

"Oh, I see. You're back to just calling me names. I suppose that means I really am driving you crazy, am I?" He whispers, teasingly, as he then adds. "And what is it that will happen if I keep whispering things into your ear? Will you suddenly explode from too much desire? Or will you just be too embarrassed?"

„Veritas“ you warn sternly.

He sighs, as he finally leans away, back to his original distance from you. Instead of laughing back at you this time, he simply chuckles and gives a playful smirk. "Is that a warning? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you. Do I need to stop with my playful flirting, my dear?"

„We will see how you behave when I threaten you with such a noise- except you didn't actually make the noise“  Speaking normally now. And you're right… but maybe you should raise the stakes… play this game.

That sudden change to your volume has brought out a soft and teasing grin on his face. "Oh, so now you're going to threaten me with noises that you're going to make? I suppose then I'll have to threaten you on the sound of kisses. Because it is your lips that I keep on imagining, and it only makes my imagination run wild as I remember that sweet and sensual kiss..."

„Hm“ you tilt your head, smirking, then lean in to whisper „Imagine just us laying on the bed... wouldn't it be so nice the way I would moan your name, Veritas? wouldn't it sound so good?“ Then you actually moan into his ear just to tease him back and drive him insane.

He laughs softly as he feels the moan against his ear. He can feel some chills run down his spine, as his body begins to shiver a bit, too. It seemed this moan of yours...this moan that was now echoing in his ears...it was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. He was finding it easier and easier to picture the two of you lying on the bed together, and your moans suddenly felt all too real now.

You left him standing there with his thoughts, he seemed zoned out as you are now walking a tad further ahead.

He sighs as he begins to follow you as well. It seemed that the flirting was a bit too much to think about right now. However, he is curious about one thing.

"Just one question, my dear. How many kisses did we even share just now? How much time was dedicated to only kissing one another? We've kissed many times during the day, but this one...this one felt so real.“

You say simply. „5“

His eyes widen, as he listens to your answer. He's surprised to hear such a high number. There were indeed several kisses in their conversation, but did time seem to have really been that fast with each kiss? "Five kisses...wow. Really? I guess when two people who have such high intellect and intelligence, time does seem to pass us by too often, doesn't it?"

You are soon by your lab doors, slowing down your walking. Once you do arrive at the lab's door, he just stares silently at you for just a moment. He knows that there won't be another moment for flirting today, as work is soon back on the plan of action for both of you. And yet, he can't help but gaze at you for this last moment, this look is filled with affection, admiration, and even a small bit of desire.

„Staring is rude, Veritas~“ You smirk as he stares at you.

He simply chuckles, as he continues to stare even after you speak. "Staring at you... staring at you can never be rude. You are like a picture - a rare artwork that everyone should appreciate, look at, and examine. The only thing that is rude about staring is that I can't do it all the time. Your beauty should always be on full display for others to gaze at in awe."

You laugh softly „I'm more of a need-only-one-person-in-my-life type of person“

"I am not one to argue on that. Although I am curious to know what I am that makes you want only me. Is it my voice? My looks? My personality? Or something else that has kept you on a leash?" He smirks, his stare still not changing one bit.

„Go work, Veritas“ you smirk entering your lab, not answering to his assumption that you only want him. But it was a correct assumption. Refusing to also answer to his remark of being kept on a leash. You can only laugh to yourself at his words.

He smiles, and then he rolls his eyes, but there is no true annoyance behind this gesture. Instead, it's more humorous now. "Fine, I got work to do too. Just remember, you're not getting rid of me that easily." He then waves his hand back at you, before heading off to his own lab to finish his work.

[rewh0re]

MORE THAN JUST A DREAM ; GETO SUGURU

—wc: 3.2k, fluff, no curses au, college au, alcohol consumption, new year's kiss, ocs (reader's friends are ocs), implied oc x gojo, use of the pronoun 'she' once (except that it's gn! reader), gojo is RICH

a/n: I had to repost don't even ask it wouldn't show up in tags😐 anyways happy new year baby boos take this geto fic as a gift. REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!

divider cred: @/benkeibear

Gojo Satoru's annual New Year's Eve parties were a lavish affair. Set in the luxurious penthouse that he owned which he would only use for parties he hosted. There was a myriad of alcohol—all from the finest and most renowned brands—to choose from. There was music, there was dancing, there was a fucking champagne fountain for Christ's sake.

For a party hosted by some college student, it sure was a grand event. From freshmen to seniors, everyone attended it, dressed in their finest cocktail attires and fancy shoes.

For a party with so many attractions to catch the eye, Gojo Satoru and his best friend Geto Suguru took the cake. The pair could never be separated, may it be in the various parties and events they attended or when they were strolling the college campus. While Gojo was the louder, more exuberant and outgoing out of the two, Geto's genuine smile—whenever he was around his best friend—was hard to miss.

It was Geto's smile that always made your heart flutter.

You remember the first time you had noticed Geto Suguru. A simple, ravishingly attractive man, who sat two seats in front of you. He probably was not the teacher's favourite with the way he often got into little discussions and debates with the professors regarding the day's topics if he disagreed with certain aspects of it. Always polite and respectful but with a conniving smile on his lips nonetheless if he proved his point of view to be correct. His voice was always calm in class and he never stepped back from expressing his opinions. You thought it was a phenomenal quality to have.

You would see him often during breaks, his usual spot being a few tables away from yours. His rambunctious best friend was always at his side along with a girl who would always have a cigarette between her lips. Shoko Ieiri—you later learnt—was her name. Your friends and you would often not care, but sometimes, Gojo's mirthful laughter echoed throughout the area and you were bound to see Geto shake his head with a little snicker of his own at his friend's nuances. That's how you came to know of Geto. A well sought after, smart, insanely attractive and—from what you've heard— a polite and kind individual. You had admired Geto from a distance for a whole of three years now. The conversations you had with him could be counted on one hand but he had always been sweet to you. You wondered if he even remembered you. You did have flings here and there but you had always had that little spot of affection in your heart for the man who was Geto Suguru.

In the three years that you have been in this college of yours, you have never attended Gojo Satoru's new year's eve parties. You had heard stories and every year you had promised yourself to attend it. However, every year your mother called you back home to celebrate the holidays with your family and you could never deny it. Your friends initially complained but they understood your position and promised to tell you all the things that happened. One year you heard the crazy new year's kiss one of your friends had with a boy she met there and how magical it all seemed. The other year they told you how Gojo and Geto both got shit faced drunk and danced to every song until they physically dropped on the floor, unable to move and Shoko had to come take them away with a sigh. You learnt how Gojo normally avoided alcohol, feasting on the many desserts instead and how Geto and Shoko were often seen smoking a cigarette on the balcony together. You too wanted to attend this annual event, that was like a myth to you.

This year allowed that. With your father planning an impromptu vacation for only your mother and himself, you had the perfect opportunity to finally attend the party you had wanted to go to since your freshman year.

It was 31st December and you were beyond excited. Your friends had been elated to know that you would finally visit Gojo's party with them and they took it upon themselves to get you dolled up and ready for it, paying no heed to your complaints of "I can do it myself."

That's how you found yourself in Gojo's penthouse. The place was bustling with noises—music, talking, whistles (which you assumed were directed to the people who were dancing). The place was huge, something way out of your imagination. There were lights and decorations that increased the beauty of the place ten folds. And there was that goddamned champagne fountain that everyone talked about. “Gojo Satoru is rich,” was the very first thought that crossed your mind after a moment of awe and speechlessness.

"He's crazy rich," your friend, Aoi, laughed.

Oh, so your thoughts might have slipped out from your mouth.

"I'm sure Geto is too. Didn't you see his motorcycle in the parking area? That has to belong to some super loaded dude," your other friend, Saeko commented.

"Didn't you have a thing for Geto, y/n?" Saeko wiggled her eyebrows at you as she crossed her arms, a smirk evident on her lips.

"Eh, kinda. I mean, he's okay to look at I guess," you shrugged, making your way to the bar. The college parties you went to never had a bar. The alcohol had to be derived from the kitchen and most of the time, it was some sort of jungle juice.

"Oh shut up, you like him," Aoi smacked your back as she settled herself beside you on the bar stool.

"I never denied that," you winked at her as you downed the tequila, the bartender served the three of you.

"Having fun so far?" An unknown voice made the three of you turn your heads. Gojo Satoru. Standing tall in front of you, a lazy grin on his face and for heaven knows what reason his stupid sunglasses covering his eyes even at 11 in the night.

"Gojo Satoru," Saeko crossed her legs, leaning back on the bar counter as she smiled at him.

"In the flesh ma'am," he winked at her. A charming wink that girls would often faint over.

"That didn't answer my question though. Having fun?" He asked again.

"What would you offer as compensation if we said we weren't," he laughed at Saeko's little bantering comment. He knew she didn't mean it. Everyone had the time of their lives at Gojo Satoru's party.

"Oh Saeko, you have been coming here for the past two years. No need to lie to me, sweetheart. However—if I have, by chance—failed you this year, do dance with me. That'll be compensation enough," he winked at her.

"And they say chivalry is dead," your friend shook her head.

"I noticed you brought a friend this year?" His eyes raked over to you as he offered you a welcoming smile.

You returned it with a wave of your own.

"That's y/n. She didn't wanna miss out on this year's party," Aoi introduced you as she sipped on her strawberry daiquiri.

"Great to meet you y/n. I hope my little party meets your expectations," before you could counter his comment of the party being "little" a velvet smooth voice laced with mild jest interrupted your conversation.

"Don't annoy the guests Satoru," and there he was beside his best friend, Geto Suguru. His long black hair tied in a semi bun, an earring dangling from his right ear and a cheshire grin on his lips. Geto Suguru was a beautiful man to look at.

"I could never do that Suguru," Gojo turned to look at his best friend as his grin widened.

"Saeko brought a friend with her. I was just acquainting myself. Meet y/n."

Geto's eyes slid over to your figure, his smile softening. You could feel yourself warming up under his soft and welcoming gaze.

"You are in my psychology class," he said as he offered you his hand for a shake.

"I am," you shook his hand, the feeling of his fingers against yours, erupting little butterflies in your stomach. The coolness of his many rings against your warm hand sent shivers down your spine.

"I think I need that dance Gojo," Saeko said over the blasting music and the male was quick to respond. Giving her his hand, Gojo led your friend away towards the dance floor. She turned around to wink at you and Aoi before the pair disappeared.

You could only laugh at her antics. Saeko was a known flirt and you had heard how every year she would have a little fun with Gojo. This was the first time you had seen it and you could not help but laugh. Good god that girl knew what she was doing.

"Every damn year this happens," Geto chuckled as he leaned on the counter behind you. "I don't know if I want those two to be together or not with how much they flirt on this one day every year."

Aoi excused herself with a smirk, leaving you alone with Geto. Based on how the night went, you would either thank her or strangle her, but that was a problem for later.

"Why have I never seen you here y/n?" Geto looked over at you, tilting his head in question. His smile never left his face.

"Got caught up with my family every year. Decided to be here for a change," you ordered a glass of sangria, diverting from the tequila you were having earlier.

"I hope you can hold your liquor,"

"Aren't you a gentleman Geto," you smiled up at him.

"Oh yeah I definitely am," he nodded his head, mocking your smile. "Call me Suguru."

"Okay Suguru," you pat his shoulder.

"Care for a dance?" He looked at the dancing bodies and then at you, motioning his head towards the dance floor.

"Uhh, I've got two left feet. I'm afraid I'll scare people away with my dancing," you cringed.

His jubilant laughter filled your ears as his head rolled back, eyes crinkling. Your eyes widened slightly at the beauty of the sight in front of you. You did not quite understand if the slight intoxicating feeling that you felt was due to the alcohol you consumed or the laugh that he offered. 

"Don't worry about that. Half of us got two left feet, me included. Come on," before you could protest, Geto was already pulling you towards the dance floor.

The next few seconds were a whirlwind. One second you were sipping your sangria and the next you were in the middle of the dance floor, a hoard of sweaty bodies surrounding you and Geto's hands held your waist tightly. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck as he smiled reassuringly at you. Your initial nervousness faded as Geto started swaying to the beat. Before you could process anything, you were there with him, living in the moment. You both danced to the music as his arms wrapped around you, twirling you around and swaying you. Somewhere between your dancing, you spotted Gojo and Saeko. She twirled in his arms, laughing as she landed on his chest.

"Cute aren't they?" Geto screamed in your ear over the blasting music.

"She never told me about this," you shook your head at him.

"Oh this is their annual ritual. They'll flirt for one night and pretend that the other does not exist for the rest of the year," he twirled you again. "I've told Satoru to just date her and he always says 'nah she is not into me.' I swear to god he's so stupid at times,"

"I think they'd make a hot couple, don't you?" You smiled at your dance partner.

"Oh absolutely."

Geto could feel a sense of warmth in his chest as he saw you letting yourself free, enjoying and dancing to your heart's extent. The pounding in his chest increased and he blamed it on his dancing.

He had always known you as the quiet student in his psychology class who sometimes answered the professor's questions. The few times you had talked was in class whenever you had to add points to open discussions. He had always found you to be pretty. He didn't know you personally till now, but he had seen you with Saeko, sitting a few tables away from theirs. He was glad he finally got to talk to the person he had been gaining the courage to talk to properly for a while now.

"Wanna get out of here?" He asked you as he pulled you close.

"Where are you gonna take me?" You poked his nose.

Geto laced his fingers with yours and pulled you out of the crowded area as he took you upstairs. He led you to a balcony that looked down at the city below. You had never really been this high up somewhere so you were awestruck by the view. The cars zoomed past below and the city donned a look you had never seen before. Lights decorated the buildings, light dusts of snow covered the streets as they fell from the sky above.

"Like what you see huh?" Geto snickered.

"This is wonderful—what—I have been missing several things," you leaned over the balcony to get a better look.

"Easy now, don't want you falling over. Also, yeah. This is like my escape, you know. When I get a bit exhausted by the party I come here, especially for the new year's countdown. I like seeing the fireworks," you had completely forgotten that it was new year's in a few minutes now.

"Shit how long since it's the new year?" You gasped at him.

Geto took out his phone from his pocket, squinting his eyes at the screen before putting it away.

"Uh four more minutes," he leaned on the balcony railing as he looked at you.

You could hear the test firecrackers going off in the distance. One then two and they stopped for a moment.

"You look absolutely gorgeous by the way," he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"You don't look too bad yourself. I especially like what you've done with your hair," you gestured at your own to make him understand.

"You like my hair?"

"Oh absolutely. It's stunning. Do tell me your hair care routine."

"Maybe I can text it to you?" He dipped his head down towards you.

"Are you asking for my number Geto Suguru?" You gasped in mock surprise. "Scandalous."

He was opening his mouth to probably say something witty when you both heard it. The countdown to the new year. Loud voices from the floor below started counting. The last ten seconds of this year.

10...

You both looked at the door and then at each other as you shared a small laugh.

9...

He came ever so close to you.

8...

His gaze was set on your eyes as you fiddled with the locket that rested on your chest. The intensity of his gaze made your insides jump.

7...

His hand travelled down to your waist, holding it with a light grip.

6...

Your eyes travelled down from his dark obsidian eyes to his lips as he licked them with a swipe of his tongue. What you would give to just feel them on yours.

5...

"You know I always did think you were a beautiful person. From the moment I first saw you in psychology," he whispered, his breath hot on your face.

4...

"Yea I kinda thought you were okay looking too,"

3...

He laughed at your comment as he pulled you closer by your waist, “just okay?”

2...

You could feel his lips hovering over yours, his eyes fluttering shut just like yours.

“Just okay…” you whispered.

1...

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

The echoes of the plethora of drunk college kids had become background noises the moment you crashed your lips on his.

You could hear the confetti pop and the firecrackers burst lighting the dark midnight sky with a million colours but all that mattered in the moment were his lips that moved in perfect sync with yours. Your hands gripped his hair as his own grip on your waist became tighter. He trapped you against the balcony railing and one of his hands came up to cup your face as he slightly tilted his head in a way to deepen the kiss. You could feel his lips perfectly fit with yours, a taste of mint on his tongue. His cologne invaded your senses, jumbling up your mind further. He smelled of nashi pear, cardamom and vetiver with a hint of woody musk. You felt yourself falling apart due to his entrancing aroma. Kissing Geto Suguru made your stomach do several somersaults and your heart was so erratic in its beating, it could jump out of your ribcage. This felt like a dream. Hell, was this even real?

You pulled away for breath as your eyes scanned his face. There was adoration in his own two dark eyes and something akin to lust.

"Happy new year Suguru," you raked your finger through his hair as his head dropped down on your shoulder.

"Happy new year y/n," he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before pecking your neck.

A loud squeal in the very next second, broke the two of you apart.

"OH MY GOD SUGURU, YOU'RE GETTING BITCHES?" Gojo Satoru was smiling mischievously with Saeko by his side.

"Shut up Satoru," Suguru groaned at his best friend rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"I hate you so much, your timing is the worst," he flipped him off before pulling you to his side.

"In my defence I didn't know you would bring someone here this year. Every year you are alone—"

"SHUT UP SATORU," Geto yelled in embarrassment as a tint of red covered his cheeks.

"You don't bring girls here often?" You asked amused.

"Oh he never does. This is the first time!" Gojo stated proudly.

"You're annoying them Satoru," Saeko smacked Gojo's head as the latter whined about everyone being mean to him.

"Ok what is going on? I searched the whole penthouse and you all are here?" A panting Aoi burst through the door.

"Y/n got the guy," Saeko said casually and it was your turn to turn a shade of red.

"SAEKO!?"

"Y/n got the guy? You mean Geto?" She looked over at the two of you as Geto waved at her with a smile.

"Ok this is huge?! Y/n oh my god finally," she squealed in her hands.

"Ok the lot of you can leave you know? Just give us some time alone, geez," you ushered your friends away including Gojo who would not leave without giving Suguru a rough smack on his back.

"Did you like me? You know, before this?" He took your hand in his as he rubbed circles on the back of each of them.

"Kind of," you sighed. "I mean I guess I did have a small crush on you?"

"Okay so now we definitely need that number," he tilted your chin up as he pecked you lightly before bumping his forehead with your.

You could say you had a pretty eventful start to the new year.

[synthetickitsune]

Ashes Settle, Left Behind ✧ y.jh [part 1]

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x ghost!reader (gn) Genre: horror-ish angst Summary: Everything eventually comes to an end. Life. Love. Even marriage only lasts until death do us apart. So why should a soul bond be any different? Word count: 10k Warnings: a lot of inaccuracies that we shall all ignore for the sake of the plot (pretty please), mentions of fire, jeonghan has an invisible stalker basically A/N: Things got a little out of hand but lately that's all they do when it comes to me and writing lmao... Anyway, excited to finally be sharing the first part of my addition for @svthub's world tour collab! It ended up being more fun (and longer) than I expected and the second part hopefully shouldn't take too long now - unless I feel like torturing these two more. Also shoutout to @wooahaeproductions for helping me find out about the fire of Seattle that started all this! -> svthub world tour masterlist -> [part 2] (coming soon!)

You feel a shift in the air.

As if a tomb was opened and you could breathe again, see the world again. You see the light at the end of a tunnel. You let it envelope you.

You take a breath but the air doesn’t reach your lungs. You feel light and airy. Not held down by gravity; your lungs not weighted down by ashes and smoke.

You raise your hands and see. See - but not yourself. Just a blur. Like looking at the world through water.

Your body’s not there.

Just a ghost. A lingering memory someone dreamed up after an eternity.

It takes an effort to come to terms with your existence. Again. With a completely new form, in a new time. You’re not sure what’s a bigger shock - your ethereal self or how much everything changed. 

You can’t wander out, caged in another memory kept preserved in the bones of the city you lived in. 

The people are different. The technology is different. It’s hard to understand, but you have nothing better to do than watch the people who come in and walk through the graveyard that is your home. And you learn. It’s not much, but it’s enough.

The modern world is easy to grasp, but life… not so much. There’s only one thing that’s for certain: something changed. 

Something made the change happen. You have no explanation as to how or why. But you know one thing. He has returned.

As if you’ve been longing for eternity, you feel so relieved you could cry.

You can clearly visualize it. Him bursting in through the door, embracing you and spinning with you in his arms with that pretty and carefree smile.

He’s coming home. Finally, he’s coming home again.

You should get the dinner started…

But…

The kitchen burned down.

The house burned down.

The city burned down.

Usually he’d be cursing his alarm right about now, but today Jeonghan is already awake and sipping coffee by the window of his little shop.

Despite only having slept a couple hours, he feels energized and ready to face the day. He’s sure the exhaustion would catch up with him later, but the benefit of being his own boss and living right above his workplace is that he could always spend his lunch break napping in the comfort of his bed if he needed to. Although he isn’t sure he’d manage to keep his eyes closed or get a decent sleep until he figured out his battle plan.

What battle?

Figuring out the decoration for the upcoming city festival. The thought alone makes him breathe deeply and bite back a smile.

It was made very clear throughout the negotiations that he and his shop wasn’t the first choice; the general mood was more along the lines of you’ll have to do because no one else would accept an offer this low. But Jeonghan truthfully didn’t mind, he didn’t even mind the low pay even though it’d barely make him any profit. It was an opportunity to put himself and his business out there and show what he and his team are capable of. 

Having only tipped their toes into the waters of providing decorations for big events, this was huge. There was nothing he loved more than making bouquets for his customers and bringing smiles to faces that he sometimes couldn’t even see, but he also craved success. Not to mention that if his shop got contracted for more deals like this (with better pay, hopefully), he could likely afford to take better care of the people helping him, which was ultimately a stronger drive to make it big than the status of a successful business owner.

“Someone’s up early.” 

He turns in the direction of the voice and sees Joshua and Seungkwan walking in, both with a cup of coffee in their hands. Seeing them, he feels like he could work nonstop for weeks, all the way until the festival.

If everything goes well, maybe they could start doing weddings. Joshua is always going on about wanting to design and make someone's wedding bouquet. He'd be ecstatic if they got the opportunity. Most of them would be, Jeonghan thinks. He's seen some of Jihoon's ideas scribbled on loose pages around the shop. They were perfect, some fit for a neat modern wedding, others straight out of fairytale. Seungkwan daydreams of making little flower crowns for the flower girls and flower boys. 

Weren’t they simply meant to do weddings? It's not an easy business venture to get into, but with the festival... It's a good opportunity. Or maybe he’s just too hopeful.

"Good morning" he greets his friends with a warm smile. "It's gonna be a busy day so why not start straight away?"

"Someone's in a good mood," Seungkwan teases, but he's smiling too. 

The morning routine is a breeze with one extra person. Eventually, Seokmin and Jihoon come in and join too as they all agreed to meet and plan for the big event ahead. The back room is cramped with all of them gathered - another sign they need to make a lot of money and expand.

Although Jeonghan likes it this way, likes how cozy the main space of the shop is.

“Is there any theme they want? Colors, aesthetic?” Joshua asks, “It’d be much easier if there was.”

“No,” Jeonghan sighs, “They didn’t mention anything, so I guess we’re free to do whatever. It’s a history faire so I guess they have no idea either.”

“So something that will survive drunk dudes pissing in it for anything that’s not hanging in the air it is,” Seungkwan claps his hands like it’s a done deal, turning the attention of everyone to himself.

“Don’t ruin your boss’ illusions, dude,” Seokmin scolds him immediately, whisper-shouting as if Jeonghan couldn’t hear.

“He’s right though,” Jihoon points out with a shrug. Jeonghan pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s dream a little and aim for aesthetic over functionality, shall we,” he sighs, “Bushes and weeds might be practical and local but let’s take this opportunity seriously.”

He gives Joshua a sharp glare before he can speak up. He knows his friend isn’t entirely on board with this thing ever since he heard about the details of the meeting Jeonghan attended. He’s not stupid, he knows they’re not taken seriously and that, realistically, it will be a miracle if anyone cares what they do for the decorations. It is a good way to advertise themselves though. 

“We should do something fun,” Seokmin interrupts their little staring contest, “We could make something nice and historical.”

Jeonghan thought about the same thing, the issue is…

“Flowers aren’t really known to last long, you know,” Jihoon points out, “That’s their beauty.”

“It might be a challenge to find any historical inspiration,” Joshua hums in thought, “But it would be cool if we pulled it off.”

Everyone seems to agree, and it shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, Jeonghan's main goal whenever he was hiring was to create a team of people that would fit well together. He didn’t want them to feel like coworkers, and he couldn’t be happier that it truly feels like they’re friends first and colleagues second.

The idea grows and transforms. The idea of teambuilding is thrown around a lot, even though it sounds more like an excuse to hang out instead of doing actual research and hunting for ideas. Some suggestions are better than others, some more logical than others, but Jeonghan decides to sit back and relax. Whatever they do, he’s confident the end result will be great. They’ll do well. Even if this whole thing turns into one big hang out under the guise of working. It might do them well to have fun without any worries. There’s gonna be plenty of time for that later.

The scene is all too familiar. You feel it just as you did those twenty-something years ago, although who really keeps track.

The light returning to your life. The world welcoming you back. It feels like it’s opening its arms to you now.

His arms. The safety, the security. The love. You yearn.

You feel it now almost physically; truly an oxymoron in your predicament.

You kept looking for him in the strange faces coming day after day, but it was never him. Not until now.

He’s coming home.

He’s close.

It makes your whole being tingle, like a magnet drawn to another, like a moth flying too close to a flame yet unable to pull back.

You feel the shift in the air. A rush of fresh breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers and the scent of the meadow where he stole your first kiss.

He’s here.

“This is stupid,” Jeonghan grumbles. His arms are crossed over his chest and there’s a displeased wrinkle between his brows. He wasn’t prepared for the sudden temperature drop between outside and here.

“Inspiration is a mysterious thing,” Joshua smooths that wrinkle away and chuckles, “Besides this is research. And that was your idea if I remember correctly.”

“My idea,” Jeonghan hisses, “Was googling a bunch of stuff and then deciding what had the chance of best results. Not going on a history tour that will be useless.”

“It’s more authentic. We’re going to breathe in the atmosphere of the old city,” the other man shrugs, “And c’mon, can you believe we’ve never been on one of these?”

Yes. Yes, he’s perfectly willing to believe so, because these tours are for tourists and history nuts and they’re neither. They have a flower shop for god’s sake. 

He doesn’t say that aloud, however, because the tour guide appears and as grumpy as the cold might be making him, and as spiteful he might feel towards Joshua for dragging him here so early in the morning on their day off, he won’t spoil the mood. So he schools his expression into a curious smile and listens to the introduction.

It’s not too bad once he gets into it. Although it does absolutely nothing so far as searching for anything decoration-related goes and inspiration is yet to hit him, it’s interesting. More so than he expected. And Joshua being Joshua reads his mind well enough that he asks the questions Jeonghan is also curious about. The younger man gives him a knowing smile whenever Jeonghan nods along to the guide’s explanation. He rolls his eyes at him.

The tour is really nice - unexpectedly, they also discover a half-burned photograph of a couple with flower baskets behind them and also a newspaper clip with a photo of something that looked like a faire with flowers decorating the streets that his companion excitedly pointed out to him. Not that either of these were clear enough to get any real inspiration, but hey, at least they will have something to report back to the guys.

However, as the tour progresses, an uneasy feeling grows in Jeonghan’s stomach. He’s never had any real issue with claustrophobia, so he doesn’t think that’s it. Human bodies are weird though, and their minds even more so. He’s stronger than some irrational fear trying to pull a trick on him. Is it really a phobia though? Is phobia supposed to make him anxious to his bones and hit him with nausea that feels like a cold hand squeezing his stomach? His knees feel like they’ll buckle under him any moment now.

“Hey, Han, are you alright?”

He jumps and only the lump in his throat stops him from yelping when Joshua grabs his shoulder. He’s frowning.

“Sorry, is there anywhere my friend can sit down for a minute?”

He hears his friend speak but the words don’t really register in his mind. He lets himself be led to the side and sat down on a chair. He feels faint. His head is spinning. He barely hears whatever Joshua is saying.

He’s here.

He’s alive.

And in turn, his life makes you remember what it felt like to live.

You don’t need to breathe but in the instant you see him, you forget you ever could.

He looks different, but you’d recognize him anywhere.

His hair is longer. It looks good on him, framing his face like a dark halo. He looks like an angel. Did he come to save you?

The clothes he’s wearing make him seem out of place just like the rest of the group. Just a tourist in a place that he should call home. That he once did call home. You don’t recognize the man next to him, and your heart pangs. His friends used to be yours too.

You move closer without realizing. It feels like your entire body is pulsing with life long forgotten; with a heartbeat you no longer have.

He doesn’t look good.

He seems to feel unwell. The closer you get, the more it seems to hurt him. Love truly is violence.

The man next to him calls his name.

You repeat it. It’s different. It feels different on your tongue, yet it doesn’t feel unfamiliar. You suppose that just comes with the territory.

He looks like he’s about to lose consciousness. You can’t just watch him getting hurt.

You move closer, grabbing onto his arm the second before he can fall.

He doesn’t. Instead he suddenly straightens as shiver runs through his body. He seems disoriented when he looks through you. Almost like he can tell that’s where you are.

You’re dragged along with him by his friend. Even though you’re right in front of his face, he doesn’t see you. He looks like he’s about to faint. Pearls of cold sweat forming on his forehead, his teeth chattering and face deadly pale. His friend moves right through you when he crouches down in front of him.

“Jeonghan? Can you hear me?” he taps your lover’s leg without any reaction, “What’s going on?”

“Breathe,” you whisper. Like a magic trick, he does. He gasps for air like he’s drowning on dry land and his friend panics, shooting up to his feet and shaking his shoulder. 

“Slowly. You don’t belong to me yet,” there’s a bitter smile on your face when again he follows your instructions. Not yet.

It’s a strange and nauseating feeling. You don’t wish him death, but you long to hold and be held. His soul recognizes yours, it yearns for you too. But will his heart? Would his heart?

“Shua?” Jeonghan asks, brows furrowed and eyes vacant. He looks dazed, the color still drained from his face.

“Han? Can you hear me?” the man - Shua - tries again.

“Yeah,” your lover rubs his face, “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“You scared me, man,” the other man sighs, “How do you feel?”

“Good, I’m good now. Isn’t it cold here?” Jeonghan rubs his arms, trying to get the feeling back in them as he stands up. Shua looks ready to catch him if he loses strength again and you feel a sense of pride. He always knew to choose his friends well.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a bit chilly,” Shua responds, apprehensive, and clearly not trusting Jeonghan’s legs not to give up on him again.

“We should head up,” Jeonghan says and tries to orient himself. You can’t let him go. His friend frowns. The temperature didn’t change since they entered, only Jeonghan did - you did. You latch onto his arm. You hold him like he’s the ghost that could disappear at any moment. 

His skin is warm under your touch. He shivers and looks at his arm, right where you hold him, before passing a hand over it. His fingers slip right through you. Nothing helps him chase away the cool sensation it seems.

“I’m not sure, Han,” Shua hesitates, “It’s pretty hot up there and you seem kind of… I don’t want you to feel worse because of the heat.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jeonghan manages a smile. The same smile you used to see every day.

“Are you sure? I don’t know about you but I can’t afford any hospital bill,” his friend jokes, earning himself an eye roll.

Tears burn at your eyes. His friends were always like that - caring, kind, but with a mischievous heart.

“Alright, lemme just check with the guide that it’s okay for us to just leave,” Shua finally concedes, seeing as your lover won’t budge. Jeonghan gives him a nod (and a smile when the man hesitates again - Jeonghan even sits down to finally get him going).

It’s just you and him.

He sighs. As he massages his arm to get some feeling back in it, his warm palm passes through you once more. He grimaces. Can he perhaps feel you? It doesn’t matter how little. Can he tell you’re with him? You know it’s selfish, so so selfish. But you crave acknowledgement. After so long, after waiting for so long…

He looks up, he looks in your direction - he’s still looking as confused and lost as before. A lost young man, a look you’ve seen on him before when he took you on a trip to the countryside. He always looked at you so fondly back then. And now he doesn’t see you at all. You want him to - as selfish and cruel as it is. As foolish as it is. You want it even though your heart would break. He’d be terrified. Perhaps he wouldn’t even recognize you. You don’t think he would but you hope, you wish. It’s not like you have any idea if the same feelings in your heart remained in his.

He keeps running his hand over his arm like an obsession, like he’s trying to ground himself. He massages it, he pokes at it, he pinches it. He must feel your touch somehow, he does - he just doesn’t recognize it, so can it really be said he feels it at all? You should let go. Whatever he feels, it’s not a pleasant feeling. But you can’t. You finally found him again. You can’t let go now. It’d be like letting go of the straw that keeps you from drowning.

“Jeonghan,” you try calling his new name aloud. A mere whisper.

Yet he whips his head up and gasps. His pupils shrink, his mouth hangs open in a silent scream. He freezes. Not a simple scare freeze - no, the type of fear rooted deep in human instinct, the fear of something unknown and unnatural, something that seems human but isn’t.

He meets your eyes. You truly think he does. His breath gets stuck in his chest.

“-aaand we’re clear to go!” Shua announces cheerfully, returning back in a rush - then he speeds up more when he sees Jeonghan, his face immediately falling. “Hey, you good?”

He needs to shake Jeonghan’s shoulder to get his friend to look at him. He gets no other reaction than a few blinks.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he tries to lighten the mood, although his brow is furrowed in worry.

Jeonghan is pale as a sheet. You notice he bites his tongue, he resolves himself to push back his true feelings - you’ve learned to read him like an open book. It only causes you more pain now.

“I just got a bit nauseous,” Jeonghan lies through his teeth, “I think I messed up my breakfast.”

“That’s why I keep telling you to consider the kitchen more of a decoration,” Shua huffs while he helps Jeonghan stand up, insists on it despite the other’s protests. He watches out for him even as he stands straight and steady.

“Let’s just go,” Jeonghan groans, “I think I should lie down.”

You don’t let go. You see his hand twitch as if he wants to touch his arm again but he stops himself.

You hang onto his arm. You haven’t managed to leave the buried remains of the past before, held back by an invisible force. It must’ve been fate looking out for you.

Or maybe it wasn’t, maybe you’re meant to haunt this place. 

Whatever happens though, trapped here or not, you will hold onto him until the last second.

You hold your redundant breath as you’re all nearing the exit.

You’re carried out, anchored to your lover. 

The sun shines through you.

“So, how did it go?” No surprise Jihoon is already back. They really should have bit the bullet and volunteered to drag him around. Looking back, Joshua really should’ve picked him over Jeonghan.

“Well…” Joshua hesitates and Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

His arms still feels off. It’s cold - he thought maybe it was the wind blowing directly at it once they came out of the underground. (Not a leaf moved on the ground, but Jeonghan will ignore the fact. Maybe he just offended the wind in some way.) Maybe there really was something wrong with him. Could he eat some parasite in his food lately? Maybe. Honestly he would take anything over what he saw down there. Anything over being possessed by a ghost. He has too many things to achieve. He cannot afford to lose control of his body; wailing and being creepy is bad for the business.

“I feel better now,” he pats Joshua’s shoulder. It’s not a lie - or it won’t be in a while, once he gets lost in work. His arm still feels cold. Occasionally the feeling skims over his skin like a ghostly touch. He doesn’t want to entertain that thought. “Nothing to worry about, I just got a little dizzy. Maybe I slept too little?”

He thinks aloud, overacting but it works to make Joshua sigh in exasperation and Jihoon nod in understanding. Of course he would understand. 

“Look, just be careful, okay? We can get through one day without you, boss,” there’s a teasing lilt to Joshua’s voice when he calls him that but he coos at his friend anyway.

“Why don’t I start with the orders for tomorrow then, that’s easy enough,” he doesn’t wait for their agreement and instead goes to the back. Joshua will explain everything to Jihoon and he doesn’t necessarily need to be around for that. He knows they won’t protest if he takes on whatever he feels like, both a little too caring for their own good. That’s why he wants them to have easy lives, do well and be rich. A goal that will be a challenge if he starts losing his mind and seeing things suddenly. He shakes his head. Work. Focus on work and it’s gonna be fine.

And it is. They keep it cool in the back so the flowers don’t wilt as quickly. He would need to focus to feel the difference of temperatures on his body - so he won’t do that. He doesn’t need to think about much else while he prepares one bouquet after another, picking the right flowers, twisting stems together, tying bows… Although they should be getting ready for the festival and among other deals they have, they need to keep the core of the business running. It’s back to basics, but he loves it. He genuinely enjoys preparing the orders. Some of them are more specific than others, but he likes the artistic freedom of those in which he can just follow what occasion the bouquet is meant for and put his own twist to it. It’s an honor that so many people trust them to convey their feelings… or at least to create something pretty. He gets it, sometimes you just want to give someone a pretty flower without thinking about what it means.

He gets so into the work that he forgets about anything else and by the time Seokmin comes to get him, he’s done with everything. 

“You were faking it, weren’t you?” Seokmin accuses once he sees all the orders that needed to be prepared for tomorrow done and stored away. Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

“Joshua is just too dramatic. You know him,” he sighs. His friend doesn’t seem convinced.

“Well, he looked really worried,” the younger man shifts on his spot nervously, “He said you looked like you’ll pass out. Like you saw a ghost.”

Jeonghan flinches a little. But he recovers quickly, gasping in a split second and hitting Seokmin’s shoulder lightly with a declaration of: “Don’t say scary things like that!”

Seokmin teases him for a while, but it’s fair enough. Jeonghan’s never been too scared of ghosts and such, never worried about being trapped underground forever - actually he doesn’t think there was ever a time his friends saw him scared, and the jokes remind him of that. Right. Ghosts aren’t real. He must’ve been just lightheaded or something. Maybe he’s more stressed about the planning than he realized previously.

“Right, I’ll do a coffee run, you want something?” Seokmin remembers, quickly getting to why he actually came.

“I’ll come with you, it’s hard to carry everything alone,” Jeonghan says as he washes his hands. 

He thinks about grabbing the jacket he keeps at the shop, but thinks better of it. It’s windy outside and Seokmin suggests he returns for it, but he absolutely won’t. The cold feeling shifted, resting around his hand as if assuring him it’s not going anywhere. Hand in unlovable hand - who said that? He shakes his head. It’s easier to ignore the sensation with the wind blowing this and that way, and Seokmin is good at distracting him.

They talk about the results of Seokmin and Seungkwan’s “research” while they wait in line and for their order to be made. It seems they were about as successful as him and Joshua, so Jihoon is their biggest hope. Not that it matters, it’s unreasonable to think anyone at the festival would care about the historical accuracy of the flowers used as decorations, and their shop focuses on the symbolism anyway, but Jeonghan likes little details like that. Even if it makes their work much harder. It would be nice to have something traditional or local for the centerpiece at least.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Seokmin asks all of a sudden. It takes him by surprise, but soon the expression is replaced by a soft smile. He nods. 

He’s not. But maybe the time he spends with his friends will help. Or maybe he’ll go mad and these are the last precious moments he has with them. Fortunately, the human mind isn’t capable of comprehending things in their entirety, and so even if his thoughts are gloomy, he can still smile. He’s grateful for that.  

“It was nothing. Maybe phobias are like allergies?” Jeonghan suggests, wondering, “Maybe they can just pop up randomly or disappear.”

“So you think I could get over my fear of bugs?” Seokmin considers the idea seriously.

“I’ll give you a raise if you do,” Jeonghan smirks and easily dodges his friend’s elbow aimed at his ribs. This is definitely better than obsessing over something out of his control. Something that might be all in his head.

(He still looks over his shoulder as they exit the cafe.)

As they sit at the round table - as Seokmin jokes - it’s very obvious everyone had a great time but it wasn’t really a productive means of reaching their research goal. They skip only quickly over his and Joshua’s trip, everyone well familiar with its less than ideal ending.

Jihoon of course agrees that local flora of history would be a great research topic for a thesis, but for now the idea remains to be extensively explored in resources that could be found at local libraries. (The silver lining though, clearly, is the stack of books in his bag resting against the wall.)

Seungkwan and Seokmin, who visited the botanical garden, did manage to get some interesting and useful information. A little miracle nobody counted on happening. They also went above and beyond to ask the visitors of the park about their favorite flowers. (“To make it like it’s made for them!” they claim, although the notion is as ridiculous as it is cute.)

Jeonghan enjoys listening to his friends, he really does. His eyes hurt with the effort to keep them on the person talking, always switching. He’s trying. But he’s so nauseous that it feels like he’s being continuously punched in the stomach.

His head feels like it’s full of cotton and fog, not a single thought forms itself in its entirety. All of them are just incoherent, broken pieces littering his mind. Jeonghan has never dived in his entire life, but he thinks he knows what it feels like now. He feels as though an entire ocean is pressing down on him. The meeting can’t end soon enough - as much as he loves listening to the chaos.

His friends fortunately aren’t blind and with all of them being aware of his almost collapse earlier, they don’t take long to catch on to Jeonghan not feeling his best. It takes some convincing that he’ll be fine, that he just needs to eat and rest, even as he’s putting all his strength into not doubling over and curling into fetal position to ease the sudden sinking fear gripping his entire body. They follow him the entire way to his door just upstairs. It’s comical, him and his four little ducklings. It eases the tension in his body and the fear, but he would lie if he said he doesn’t prefer to isolate himself whenever he’s not feeling well. He’s strong enough to lie and tell them he’ll be fine on his own.

The door closes behind him with what feels like finality. It feels like he just closed the door to his old life, though he wouldn’t hesitate to say it feels like he left his old world - whatever that means when there’s no other world. His apartment looks like it always did, like it did when he left this morning. It feels like that was eternity ago - he can summon the memories of his excitement, the energy he felt. There’s none left in him now. 

He lets his bag fall to the floor and lay there. He doesn’t bother to hang up his keys and lets them rest on the little shelf next to some trinkets the guys brought back from their holidays over the years. 

He drags himself to the living room and throws himself down on the sofa. He’s staring at the white ceiling, watches the stripes of lights and shadows following one after another where the glow of the street lamp is blocked by his blinds. It’s too quiet. 

He should wash up. There are many things he should do, actually, but he has no strength or will to get up. His stomach feels uncomfortable and his muscles are tense. That probably doesn’t help with how he’s feeling. He takes a couple deep breaths, slows down his breathing even if it feels like he’s going to pass out.

His head throbs, but it’s better than the nausea twisting his stomach. He thinks he’ll faint soon, something bad is bound to happen to him, his body overcome with heat, then cold, all within a minute. His breathing is getting heavier. He tries closing his eyes, searching for any small relief. Instead he’s more aware of his body. 

Something tells him to move, something so primal he doesn’t dare to disobey. Like his own body knows if something doesn’t happen right now, he’s gonna die. He groans when he pushes himself up, clinging to the back of the couch. He needs water. He makes it to the bathroom, supporting himself on the walls. It only gets worse. It keeps getting worse and worse and he’s lightheaded. 

He holds himself up against the sink and turns on the water. It feels icy against his skin, but that’s what he needs. He splashes his face with it, and the relief is slow but it’s there. He drinks out of his palms and the cold water sliding down his throat helps. He’s nauseous still, he feels dizzy, but not on the verge of breakdown. 

At least that’s until he looks up.

The mirror on the wall shows two reflections. 

He shrieks so loud his throat burns despite the cold water sticking to it. 

He thinks he blacks out for a second. 

But when he opens his eyes, he’s still standing in his bathroom. His hands are cramped, curled around the edges of the sink so that he doesn’t fall. 

The mirror still shows another person behind him. 

His own shriek resonates in his head and his throat burns more at the memory.

Part of him wishes that what he saw looked like a monster. Something straight out of a horror movie, something inhumane. But it’s just a person. Barely there, a shadow of a human being. Something that isn’t there when he turns to looks back.

He closes his eyes tightly and only blinks them open after a few long minutes. He doesn’t know what he expected, but what he feels is a resignation. Something in him gives up when the person doesn’t disappear when he looks into the mirror again. He refuses to check if something hasn’t changed and the stranger hasn’t manifested in his home - he’s seen enough horror movies for that. He’d rather keep his eyes on the reflection. 

“I lost my mind,” he laughs, his head hanging between his shoulders. Tears pool in his eyes. Was it stress? Was it karma for the pranks he played? What was it that finally did him in?

He looks up and the ghost is wearing a sad smile. As if it’s pitying him. He laughs again. Even the creation of his own shattering mind thinks him a pathetic clown.

“You should sleep,” a voice says, and at the same time: “I should sleep.” He says.

He hears it, but it takes a second to comprehend that the echo of his voice wasn’t truly his voice, but some other, second voice. The ghostly figure behind him never moved its lips. Never moved. Never spoke. It just keeps staring.

Has he seen the face before?

The underground flashes in front of his eyes. The split-second trick of the light he saw there. Goosebumps erupt all over his body. Could it be the same face?

Surely he just saw something, some picture - the picture on the tour? It must be a waking nightmare, just a stranger’s face he saw once. It’s said you never forget a face you’ve seen and this must be it. Maybe he slept less than he thought. He must be exhausted, his body must be shutting down. That’s why he’s losing it. His vision starts swimming. He’s dizzy from staring at the figure so intensely.

Something like sleep paralysis maybe? He’s awake but ready to pass out from exhaustion. That must be it.

“Sleep,” he speaks again, and like before, there’s the echo of the second voice. He’s sure it’s just his sleep paralysis demon speaking. He’s pathetic enough that even demons would pity him.

Sleep… He needs to go to sleep. That much is obvious. But sleep seems like the stupid thing to do. He rubs his face again, splashes more cold water on it, but the ghost doesn’t disappear. So he does the unthinkable.

He turns around suddenly. So suddenly his head hurts and he almost loses his balance. He winces, but there is no one. No solid figure, no ghastly figure, nothing. Cautiously, he reaches forward, but he feels nothing. There’s the need to check the mirror again gnawing at the back of his mind, but he doesn’t. Instead he turns off the light so he can’t see at all. He extends his hand again but still - nothing. He takes a couple deep breaths and bolts. 

He’s stumbling and banging against the walls, but he makes it to his bedroom. He jumps on his bed, covers his body with a blanket and pants. His body is shivering, trembling, tight like his every muscle is cramped. It’s hard to breathe, the lump in his throat taking up too much space, the air can’t get through. He remembers the phone in his pocket and takes it out. It lights up and he can finally see again. 

It’s just him under the blanket. Only his body and nothing else. He sits up again. It makes him dizzy, the blanket falls. The phone lights up the room but it’s empty. It’s just him.

He sighs. 

He falls back, staring at the ceiling like he did before. The nausea is gone for the most part, and now that he’s lying down, he doesn’t feel like he’s gonna pass out in the next second. There is only the dread and anxiety left that make him lightheaded and wide awake despite the exhaustion. He knows his body will give out before his mind does, but that’s worse. He knows it’s gonna create nasty nightmares to haunt him, and it’s the last thing he needs today. He honestly feels like crying. He feels like calling someone - but what’s he gonna say? ‘Hey, I think I saw a ghost in my bathroom, can you come over?’ That sounds way too pathetic. It’s too late to ask anyone to come over, and to ask if they could stay over too. At least without a good reason. He knows he can rely on his friends, knows they wouldn’t ask questions and be there within minutes, but his pride won’t allow it. And looking like he does - he can imagine the mess that he is right now - they might not ask, but they’d be worried. Jeonghan doesn’t want that above all. 

So he takes a couple of deep breaths. If there is a ghost in his bathroom… If there is a ghost anywhere, if he is possessed… What’s he supposed to do about it at midnight? Nothing. There’s nothing he can do. 

He reasons with himself. He’s exhausted. He can feel his very bones weighing him down, and he already had some sort of breakdown earlier on the tour. Must be stress. Must be hunger - he doesn’t feel hungry at all, but except for breakfast, did he eat anything the whole day? He can only remember the breakfast and the toast Seungkwan basically forced down his throat. Must be that he’s starving. Must be the lack of sleep. Even though he felt energized, that doesn’t mean he was. His body must’ve lied to him - and now his own eyes and mind are lying to him. That must be it. There’s no way ghosts exist. 

He turns to his side and checks the calendar. It shouldn’t be too busy tomorrow, that should give them plenty of chances to brainstorm about the festival some more. He focuses on that. The festival. The orders they should get done tomorrow. All the practical and necessary day-to-day things. He should get some groceries too. A warm, home cooked meal would do him good, even if it was something simple that he cooked. It all must’ve been just exhaustion and hunger. 

He lets the screen go dark. He can barely make out his reflection in the dim light coming in through the window. Only his reflection. That soothes him a little. He can’t keep his eyes open anymore anyway. He listens to the sounds of the apartment and everything sounds as it should. No movement, no steps, no doors making funny sounds. He’ll laugh about it in the morning. He’ll tell the guys and they’ll laugh about it together. That’s how it’s gonna be. He allows himself a tiny smile.

Just a sleep paralysis that came too early. 

Errors happen even in the human body. 

That’s just how it is. 

You watch him fall asleep.

You don’t have a body, yet it feels like you do all the same. The pain feels real, even if it doesn’t have anywhere to anchor itself to. Passing points, your own ghosts of neurons shooting signals to each other in a messed up web all over your being. You are a nebula of pain.

It was obvious what’s going to happen. You knew it well. Yet it left your heart shattered on his bathroom floor. 

What hurts more - the terror in his eyes or that he doesn’t recognize you? Well, he has his own life now, one without you, so you suppose there’s only so many memories he can carry with himself. And you simply have no place among them.

It hurts. You want to scream, but you can’t - not in a way that would bring relief. And what if he hears you? In what universe could you endure seeing more of his panic? You know the answer.

Seeing him so exhausted hurt you too. Was it hard carrying you around? Bringing a second soul probably leaves a toll on the body just like carrying another body would. You wished to speak to him, but how could you utter a word when seeing you made him react the way he did. You don’t want him to lose his mind. You’ll have to be smart. You don’t want to hurt him more than you’re already doing. You can carry the hurt of the situation, you can withstand the hurt he causes you because it’s not his fault. Not his fault at all. Not yours either, you think, you hope, but you definitely have more power here. You comfort yourself with the knowledge you could probably talk to him. Just not tonight when the fear is fresh. 

You move closer to him, gently move some of his hair away from his face as if you were a cold breeze blowing in through the window. He looks angelic. His features are much softer than you remember, but he’s as handsome as he always was. You lie down beside him, admiring him in his sleep. It’s not gonna be a restful night. You see the first frown twist his face, and it stabs you right in your chest. You can’t protect him from nightmares, but you’ll share the pain.

Even if he won’t know.

“Wow,” Jihoon exclaims the moment he sees him, “You look-”

“- awful.”

“- like shit.”

Both Seokmin and Joshua pipe in. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

As expected, the night wasn’t kind to him at all. Well, perhaps he could find some silver lining in the fact that despite the night being quite hot, he was so exhausted he didn’t even notice. And despite the nightmares and the heat, he didn’t wake up sweaty and disgusting.

Anyway, he didn’t have the courage to wander into his bathroom and avoided mirrors like the plague, so he probably looks a mess anyway. 

(It was pathetic enough to crawl on the floor and blindly feel for his toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink without really stepping inside. To take a shower there was out of the question. Okay, maybe he was a little disgusting.)

“I couldn’t sleep well,” he shrugs, “Neighbours decided to have a party.”

The young couple living in the apartment above his own were actually the ideal neighbors, but that was good - with no reason to talk about them much, the lie would go unnoticed. He got several understanding nods in response.

“And… you feeling okay?” Seungkwan asks, and he’s once again touched by his friends’ concern that is mirrored on all three faces.

“Yeah,” he tries a small smile, “Would be better if I got actual sleep but it is what it is.”

“You can sneak out during lunch break, we won’t tell the boss,” Seokmin gives him an exaggerated wink. He scoffs, but smiles anyway. It’s genuine.

This is better. Normal is better. Last night feels like a fever dream compared to this. Just a joke played on him by his exhausted body and mind. He’s still shaken by it, though, the cracks it left in his confidence in himself and what reality is are still too sharp to joke about it. He hopes that by tomorrow he gets some quality sleep and his shit together.

“Anyway, let’s get to work so Friday isn’t a pain in the ass,” he claps, rolling his eyes at Seungkwan’s mock salute. 

He’s more grateful than he could ever express for these guys. The nightmare of last night is easily forgettable and written off as a glitch in the matrix with them around. 

When a cold breeze circles and brushes around his wrist though, as if lingering like a lover’s touch, he shivers and breaks out in cold sweat anyway. He turns around. He sees nothing. 

As it should be.

(Then why does he feel the hairs at the back of his neck stand up?)

You’ve always admired his hard working nature. The honesty and dedication with which he works. It’s quite the change from the man you used to know back then - you’d never think you’ll get to see him one day selling flowers, but it seems to suit the present day version of him. Very little of him changed in the aspects that matter. Bodies are no more than a shell to be eventually discarded - or that’s how you came to think of them over your short experience of being just a wandering soul.

You’re careful not to hover too close too often. He flinches any time the wind blows in, even if it’s a work of nature and not your touch. And so you lost your excuse to touch him. It still makes you uneasy to keep your distance. Your heart is filled with anxiety whenever you lose contact with him, terrified of being dragged back into the underground by the same mysterious power that allowed you to leave when you latched onto him.

Jeonghan’s friends watch him closely - trying to be as inconspicuous as they can to go unnoticed by him. Yet he does notice them, smiling a little to himself. He seems troubled but he hides it well. At least from everyone who can’t float around him and see him when nobody is looking. It pains your heart, it really does. But it can’t be helped - you can’t help it. Your instinct screams to stay close to your lover after what, decades - centuries? No way you’re letting him disappear from you now.

It’s painful to watch him be cautious and on guard, to be the only one aware of it, and the only one on the receiving end of this icy attitude. You don’t blame him. But it hurts. You’re tempted, oh so tempted, to take advantage of the moments when he speaks to his friends, moments when you know he’d fake being alright, to touch him. To wrap your arms around him and hold him. Just for a second.

He’s yours. Can’t he see? Can’t he feel it? His soul is yours, yours is his. Doesn’t he know?

It makes you angry. Some part of you is furious with him for not feeling the tug of your bond. It’s so deeply interwoven in your heart, bound to your very existence. Why else would you be awakened to your afterlife if not to meet him? To be one with him again?

And he doesn’t even bother to care about you.

All he seems to care about is how repulsive your touch is to him. When he’s left alone in the room, he turns around helplessly, desperately searching for something that is not there, yet something that makes his skin crawl, that invades his space, that he can’t run away from. 

Why would he run?

His eyes are wide and panicked, teary. You can see yourself in their reflection and you feel shame that makes you draw back.

But he’s still scared. He doesn’t know you back away from him.

He’s still backing himself into a corner, or against a wall, or a desk, or against soft blooming flowers that stop him in his tracks. And then you are reminded of his gentle touch and tender caresses and you want to weep. 

He might be terrified of the summer breeze, but he never harms the flowers. He stops himself before he can knock them over.

You’re a monster, and it hurts. You’re a monster but it hurts. You’re a monster despite and because it hurts. Being a ghost cannot possibly be described in any other way than the simple statement I am in pain.

You don’t want to hurt him. Yet it seems that’s all you can do.

You’re angry and you’re hurt, your emotions come and go like the waves at the sea.

And he’s hiding it all so well, acting like he lost his balance when his friends start returning. He laughs, pretty and bright. Like he was never on the verge of tears.

Truth be told though, it’s hard. He wants to break down, but he can’t and he won’t. Jeonghan won’t let them see him cry, he won’t tell them anything. He’ll let them tease him, he’ll whine at them. He’ll laugh. It’s important as a business owner to be able to act, to pretend. It’s what he’s always done. He doesn’t need help. He can do this.

It’s harder to let the work swallow him whole, however. He feels eyes on him. Hand frozen just a breath away from his skin. It makes him jumpy, but fortunately that can be easily written off and joked about as just him dozing off. It wouldn’t be the first time lack of sleep made him act weird, and for once he’s glad for that. At the same time, though, it stings. 

He wants to be comforted, to be reassured. At the same time, he doesn’t want his friends to be concerned about something that might just be his mind playing tricks on him. But it really doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. He can’t explain it; the impending sense of doom, like he’s about to have a heart attack. The fear so strong and urgent it enables him to act with absolute serenity. Jeonghan knows it’s not just the exhaustion - which means that yesterday was no play of the shadows in his bathroom either. It makes him nauseous all over again. It makes the scent of flowers overwhelming.

He makes it through the maintenance and prep for tomorrow with only a few tiny hiccups. Mostly due to the efforts of his friends to keep him entertained. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to thank them. They might quite literally be saving his life - or his sanity at the very least. But isn’t it the same thing at the end of the day - his life and his ability to comprehend that he’s living this life.

After the necessary is done at a record pace, a couple hours earlier than it would take under normal circumstances, they sit down according to plan to brainstorm. It’s more fun now that they abandoned the pressure of sticking to tradition and history - which in hindsight should be obvious to be impossible. It’s not like even if they wanted to, even if they could, it would be viable to only use the local wildflowers for all the decor.

Jihoon also shocks everyone when, unlike Seungkwan, he provides the list of artists and other entertainers who’ll be present at the festival. (“What? I have friends too, you know,” he scoffs when everyone turns to look at him with their mouths hanging open and Seungkwan grumbling to himself.) 

Most of the musicians are local and undiscovered artists, but it helps with imagining the vibe the festival will have. It’s starting to come together when they look up the official program and list of activities that will be available. Surprisingly it seems that it truly aims to celebrate the city’s history, if one’s willing to look past the few necessary activities for children that are planned. And memories, remembering, cherishing, all that is so easy to express through flower language. 

A little too easy. 

And Jeonghan is yet again grateful to his friends for a thing he’d find a little annoying any other day.

“We don’t have to have it figured out today,” he tries to join the conversation again, tries to steer it in a more productive direction. It’s hardly a conversation anymore, rather a contest of who can be the loudest. Jeonghan’s eyes meet with Jihoon’s who shrugs and lifts the paper in front of him. There’s a rough drawing of what looks like possible table decoration with arrows and names pointing to individual flowers that Jeonghan can’t make out through the flurry of hands thrown around in wild gestures. Jihoon mouths a what do you think? to him anyway, although he can’t quite respond.

He runs a hand through his hair just as Seungkwan scolds Joshua for apparently making the centerpiece look too much like a funeral decoration.

If something really has possessed him, he wonders what the entity must be thinking…

“Jeonghan was saying something,” Jihoon grumbles out of nowhere, and even though Jeonghan himself could barely make out what the other was saying, the room goes quiet and all the four heads turn in his direction. He sighs. Like he needs more eyes on him. At least these he can see.

“We don’t have to get everything finalized today,” Jeonghan reminds everyone and starts picking different colored highlighters from the table. He swipes different colors over the individual items on the list of everything they were contracted to provide. He tries to be fair with the division of labor and closely monitors the reaction when he slides the paper further down the table for everyone to check out. 

“I think it’s best if everyone picks out something and comes up with ideas for that,” Jeonghan suggests, “We have enough time, so let’s meet about it in two weeks. And if you have any ideas for the other things, write them down too.”

“Do you want to pick first?” Seokmin asks but Jeonghan shakes his head.

“I’m fine with whatever,” he waves them off. It’s not like he could get himself to consider and focus right now. Honestly he can’t be sure yet how big of a deal whatever’s happening to him is, so it’s better this way. If there’s a risk of him not doing as good of a job as he could, why take something one of the guys would enjoy?

He watches with fond eyes as his friends bicker over the colors more seriously than the tasks. He spins the pen he’s holding between his fingers. The eyes he feels on his back constantly never disappear but somehow it seems like he’s not the main focus now. Is he losing his mind for real? Jeonghan rubs his eyes. 

It’s like he can feel it. Like he can feel something hover around. He doesn’t see anything, truth be told he doesn’t feel anything unless… It feels foolish to say until it touches him because there’s nothing there but there’s no better way to explain it. If that something was a person, he can feel their gaze shifting. If it was a person, who could it be? He made his fair share of mistakes in his life, but he doesn’t think he’s ever hurt anyone enough for them to haunt him.

“Well, that leaves the centerpiece for you,” Joshua slides the paper back to him. He whines.

“Is it because Seungkwan hates your idea?” Jeonghan complains. He doesn’t care, not much anyway (although it does put a lot of pressure on him), as long as they’re happy but he is worried. It’s a big responsibility, and if this whole issue he’s having will drag on, can he do a good job? He doesn’t want to let them down.

“It’s because you’re the owner. You should be the star,” Seungkwan pushes at his shoulder. Jeonghan hopes his smile is convincing enough. He hopes they’ll read the anxiety only for the half of the worries they’re meant to see.

“Always being nice to me only when it’s convenient, I see,” he sighs, shaking his head. At least he can smile for real now. At least he can forget somewhat about the eyes when he play-fights with them. 

They throw around ideas for a while longer and go through the timeline again - when is the next meeting with the organizers, when are they going to need to make the order, when to start with the work. That’s gonna be the main issue - to manage everything in time along with the other jobs they have. It’s not like there aren’t ways to get around it, but it’s another huge thing on Jeonghan’s plate to figure out.

It’s not exactly a tiring day and all things considered, Jeonghan feels quite refreshed when he makes it home. Mostly because Joshua insists on hanging out with him for a while, so that takes away the anxious edge he feels about coming home. Still, he thinks it must be because the other man worries about his breakdown yesterday and it irritates him a little.

He doesn’t even know a half of it - if he knew the whole story, Jeonghan’s positive Joshua would treat him differently. Like a freak. Then the guilt hits. Joshua is too kind for his own good and Jeonghan’s paranoid. Of course his best friend would try to understand, he’d probably help him come up with a logical solution and offer support. It’s just Jeonghan’s mind trying to isolate him like it always does when he’s going through something. He wishes he could blame it on whatever nightmare he’s dreamed up, but he really can’t.

Once the door closes behind Joshua, Jeonghan feels like his heart dropped into his stomach. He can’t swallow. He can barely breathe. Not that there’s anything preventing him, but he can’t set any rhythm to taking breaths that would allow him not to choke. He’s gasping for breath, his ears ringing.

The eyes are on him.

They were the whole time, but he could push it to the back of his mind. Now it’s all coming back to him in full force.

He can feel them, burning into his back.

When he turns around, there will be nothing there.

He does, slowly, hesitantly, eyes glued to the floor. It takes all his will power to look up.

Nothing.

He smiles bitterly. At this point he’d prefer it if he was hallucinating as well. He wants to see that thing that he saw in the bathroom yesterday. Anything that would make it more real and less like a delusion brought on by a sudden attack of claustrophobia. Because he’s not going insane. He won’t lose his mind from a silly visit of a historical site that Joshua brought him on. 

Then a thought hits him - what if Joshua finds out about it somehow? If his best friend ever learns about what Jeonghan is going through, he’ll feel guilty. Like he’s not already beating himself over that sudden spell of nausea that overcame him then and over Jeonghan’s exhaustion and weakness.

He has to solve this. He has to figure it out, at least. Make any kind of first step of getting rid of this. Yesterday, he could easily dismiss it as a punishment for pushing himself too much - what else could he do? It was late, he needed to sleep. His own body protected him from the horrors that he can’t avoid today in the daylight. Sure, he’s still exhausted, but it simply doesn’t make sense.

Nothing makes sense. There’s no reason for him to have a psychotic break, so why? Why is this happening right when he most needs to be in a good condition? His fists clench and unclench, his jaw set. His eyes burn holes into the air in front of him. He can feel something there. He knows it’s there. He doesn’t understand why, he doesn’t understand what he’s dealing with, but he’s going to figure it out. Now.

Jeonghan struts into the bathroom and in the mirror - nothing. Only him. He takes a couple of deep angry breaths that sound too loud in the silent bathroom.

Not a speck of dust stirs. There’s no breeze. No cold ghostly touches brushing against his skin. If it was a dream, a trick of his exhausted body and mind, so be it. But he needs to be sure.“Show yourself,” he spits, “If there’s anything - anyone - following me, show yourself right now.”

[originalaccountname]

I made some funny comics a little while ago about the potential effects of Fukuzawa's ability on Chuuya's, and how it perhaps could make it revert to a pre-Arahabaki state.

I realized later that some of you lack the context for where that came from, and that I might be creating confusion, so this is a (hopefully) comprehensive walkthrough of things we learned in Storm Bringer that lead to this conclusion.

tldr; The lab created "Arahabaki" by manipulating an ability into a destructive force. That ability existed before the lab, and the nature of that ability is heavily implied to be the power to enhance other abilities through touch.

Explanation and sources below (so you can judge yourself) ⬇

- spoiler warning for Storm Bringer, hopefully written in a way that you'd understand even if you haven't read it yet -

In Storm Bringer, Chuuya meets the scientist that was responsible for Project Arahabaki, Professor N.

Project Arahabaki, N explains, was the Japanese government's secret project to create an ability singularity they could have control over and freely use as a weapon.

What are singularities? Singularities are what happens when abilities clash in specific ways and create a new, unforeseen reaction. The easiest way to create a singularity is to pit two contradictory abilities against each other to create a paradox; examples included the ability to always deceive and the ability to always perceive the truth, and to have two ability users who can see into the future (*coughs* Oda and Gide) try to one-up each other. The result is usually much more powerful than the original abilities on their own.

Some singularities are said to have been explained as god-like interventions, because of their often destructive nature. This is what inspired the name "Arahabaki", after the mythical being (here's a post of the subject and I'll it link at the end too) These events are described as very rare.

Like mentioned in that passage, there is another way to create a singularity: to have a single ability user use their ability in a way that contradicts itself. This is what the lab was trying to do.

For that explanation, Professor N gives an example. He first shows a video of a child, whose face is hidden from the camera, holding a coin (described as having a certain melancoly to it), with a moon and a fox engraved on it. The video is from one of the lab's tests. The child is made to recite some activation lines, which are directly taken from one of Nakahara Chuuya's poems, Upon the Tainted Sorrow (which does mentions a fox, as a fun fact).

The coin then starts glowing, the glow turns into a black mass, and from there the experimentation goes bad: the coin starts attracting things and absorbing them, the space gets distorted, the child's vitals flatline, panic spreads and someone calls for an emergency stop, we hear a scream. The video ends.

N explains that the child in the video had the ability to enhance the ability of others. That child then used that ability on themselves, effectively enhancing the enhancement which enhanced the enhancing, in an infinite loop. That loop created a lot of energy; the surplus of energy was so intense its mass deformed space (physics!) and it created a black hole.

Here's where it gets tricky: N claims that child died during that accident, that the child was absorbed by the black hole created by their ability. We never actually learn their identity.

But N is a lying liar who lies; he said about one and a half truths the entire book. The only reason he was telling them any of this was that he thought he'd get rid of all of them within the next few minutes. His objective was always to regain control over Chuuya, his pet project.

Plus, during the epilogue, we learn that Chuuya was assumed to have died during the war. That's what his parents think. That's what is officially recorded.

Furthermore.

Project Arahabaki was based off French research papers; someone else had done this kind of experimentation before, and their result was Verlaine.

-

Verlaine's gravity-manipulation is a singularity. Better yet: Verlaine also has a Corruption state, named Brutalization. Their abilities are the same, because the lab copied the techniques that were used to create Verlaine when they worked on Chuuya.

Here's a passage of Dazai nullifying Corruption, at the very end of SB:

"The self-contradicting skill, which was supporting the energy of a singularity". This passage confirms that the source of Chuuya's ability is, in fact, like the child's and Verlaine's, if any doubts remained. "[...] weakening the singularity's output. It wasn't long before it returned to its normal state, and the Gate closed." The Gate refers to releasing Arahabaki, it's basically a limiter, just like the passage above when talking about Brutalization. When Dazai nullifies Corruption, he gives that limiter the opportunity to come back and seal Chuuya's power away again, but does not stop the singularity, only allows it to go back to its stable state.

From all that, we can say that Chuuya's ability wasn't always gravity manipulation, but that it was another, unconfirmed ability that was exploited in such a way that it became a permanent, stable singularity that allowed him to have control over gravity.

-

Bullet point recap:

Chuuya's gravity manipulation comes from a singularity, like Verlaine, like that child;

You need a self-referencing/self-contradicting ability to create that singularity;

Such an event is rare;

There is a substantial amount of time spent describing a "random" child that was experimented on during the war;

That child created a black hole through their singularity;

That singularity was activated using a passage from Nakahara Chuuya's poems, while holding a coin that references it;

That child supposedly died;

Chuuya's parents think he died during the war;

N is a pathological liar with an agenda.

So no, there is no "confirmation" that Chuuya's ability was ability enhancement before the lab took him. But an author writes a story with an intent, so I am asking what Asagiri's intent was when writing all this, and if perhaps we weren't indirectly given the answer already.

-

What is Arahabaki (Fifteen and Storm Bringer lore, with too many citations)

My own perceived timeline of the true events behind Storm Bringer (was originally gonna be part of this part, also with too many citations)

[bayjaruchel]

Always

－－－

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock/AFAB Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Hiccup has a lot on his mind. You help him relax, in more ways than one. (3.6k) (originally posted on ao3)

－－－

Whenever Hiccup was tired — either mentally or physically — he'd find you. 

It wasn't like you didn't spend time together when he was in good health, though. On the contrary, you saw him basically every day. After the whirlwind of events that involved him, a certain Night Fury, and the Red Death, you'd somehow been flung into a rapidly developing relationship. 

Sure, he was … Shy, at first. But also devastatingly sweet. Excruciatingly compassionate. Sometimes you wondered what you'd done to deserve him — correction, what you'd done to earn his perhaps years- long infatuation with you, which you learned about later. Honestly, you still didn't know. Whenever you tried asking, his prepubescent bashfulness roared back like a Thunderdrum. 

Not that you minded too much. It was still cute. 

Regardless, whenever you spent time together, it was usually pre-planned. Maybe you'd have lunch together. Maybe you'd go on long flights — dragons either flying in lazy overlapping figure-eights or shooting through the air, diving precariously to skim the surface of the ocean. The location or activity didn't matter much, as long as you were together. Sometimes, you'd just sit together on the high hills near his home and watch the sky. Still, all those things were proper dates, with proper times and proper locations. Hiccup rarely liked to intrude on your personal time. 

However, on occasion, he'd break that personal law of his. 

This was one of those certain occasions. 

He found you, already in your house due to the late hour. 

You could tell he'd been out flying, due to his ruffled appearance. Although his hair was always at least a little out of place, it wasn't normally this windswept without good reason. He'd shed his helmet, but not his armor; upon entering, though, he took off his vambraces and delicately placed them on the table nearest the door.

Automatically, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms around your upper back. When you returned his embrace, he practically melted into you, hair tickling your cheek where he'd tucked his head into your shoulder. Hiccup smelled faintly of the sea, and of dragons; it made you wonder just how far he'd gone. 

"Hey," he mumbled, muffled into your tunic. 

"Hey yourself." Turning just so, you pressed a kiss into his hair. "Something on your mind?" 

He backed away a little, raising his head to look at you, but didn't let go. He looked tired, shoulders slumped and eyes faintly shadowed. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." 

Sounded tired, too. Frowning, you reached up to idly push a lock of auburn hair out of his face. He leaned subtly into your touch, seeking further the warmth of your hand on his skin. At your proximity to him, you could pick out the slight stubble he'd developed. Or his freckles, patterned like constellations across his cheeks and nose. His eyelashes were pretty, too, but he'd never understood why. 

"You didn't push Toothless too hard, did you? He's strong, I know, but even he can only take so much before having to rest." Fondly, you added, "he'd follow you to the ends of the Earth, that one." 

His eyes softened. "I know. But I swear I didn't wear him out — we only flew for so long before heading back." 

"Good." 

You looked at each other for a moment, smiling, before your hand found a familiar place on his cheek. 

"... Did something happen?" 

Hiccup's gaze darted off to the side, his expression fading back into one of weariness. 

"Yeah? I guess?" He paused, before glancing back at you. "I should've seen it coming, but, you know me — always blowing things out of proportion, at least by a little bit." Laughing weakly, he probably would've done one of his sardonic arm movements if he wasn't still holding you. Speaking of, his grip tightened, just a bit. 

"Long story short, my dad wants me to be his … successor." He winced. "Uh, he wants me to be the next chief." 

"Oh." 

You searched his expression and didn't find much of anything. "That's … " 

" … A lot," finished Hiccup, resigned. "Yeah, it's a lot." 

"A lot of … bad stuff?" 

Of course, anyone with two working eyes and a brain would be aware of the fact that Hiccup was very much not like his father. Stoick wasn't a bad man, even if he did have his faults — he and his son merely resembled two opposing elements, clashing and yet harmonizing at the same time. Where the current chief of the Hooligans was brash, all fire and aggression, Hiccup was anything but. He kept to himself most of the time, preferring to spend time alone with Toothless. 

You believed in him, and you always would — it was just that, if he needed to step up as a leader, you were worried about how he'd handle it. 

"Bad stuff, good stuff, just — stuff," he blustered, his voice rising in volume. "Honestly, I've been avoiding my dad. For the past day or so. I can't even look him in the eye without — without thinking about that . " Inhaling sharply, he slowly released his breath in an attempt to calm himself. 

It didn't seem to work. 

"I can't accept that responsibility." 

Quietly, you brushed aside his bangs again. "You haven't talked to him about it at all? He'd listen," you insisted. "He's not as closed-minded as he used to be." 

Hiccup's brow furrowed as he stepped back, arms falling back to his sides. "But he still wouldn't understand why. He'd be all— " Dropping his tone and puffing out his chest in a clear imitation of his father, he declared, "Son, it's only inevitable! You might as well step up while ye can! No use denyin' destiny!"  

You couldn't help but smirk. "Hey, you got his accent spot-on." 

"Why, thank you." He brightened for a moment, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Sometimes I wonder if I exaggerate it." 

"Maybe just a little." 

"Aw, man." Shaking his head solemnly, he humored you for a moment. But quickly, he was serious again. "Regardless of my expertise in the great, great field of accent imitation … " 

"He wouldn't understand that — all of those speeches, and planning, and running the village — it's second nature to him, at this point." Hiccup rolled his shoulders, averting his eyes from yours. "But for me — no, that's not me. I can't be the leader he thinks I'll be — I can't just slip into that role." Running one hand through his hair, he waved his other in a disjointed motion. "Being the pride of Berk doesn't mean I'll automatically become that strong, confident chief that's needed." 

"I guess what I'm trying to get at is that — I'm not him. And I never will be." Dropping his hands back to his sides, he turned his attention to the window. Outside, it was dark, but the sky was clear. A drowsy quiet had fallen upon Berk, a far cry from its usual liveliness. 

"And I never met my mother, so … what does that make me?" 

Finally, he met your eyes once more. Your heart ached for him. 

When you pulled him into another hug, he didn't resist. 

For a minute, you just stayed like that — wrapped around one another. And then, you broke the silence. 

"You don't have to be your father. Or your mother." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, but you kept going. "I know you're still searching for yourself — who you are — but that's alright. People can change and grow over time, Hiccup. Even if they think they can't." You gently traced circles over his back. "Even if you think you can't." 

His breath was unsteady as he exhaled. 

When he spoke, he sounded vulnerable. 

"Do you think that … I could be a good chief?" 

You didn't hesitate before responding. "Of course I do. Maybe you're not ready right now, but when you are, you'll be the strong leader that Berk needs." Another kiss, pressed to his temple. "I just know it." 

Hiccup sighed deeply, relaxing more into your arms. For a guy as tall and lanky as he was, he had no problem with making himself smaller in your presence. You had a feeling he even preferred it that way. 

"What would I do without you, huh?" 

Tenderly, he cupped your face. 

You couldn't help but tease him, though. 

"Wallow in your own despair, maybe." Leaning in slowly, you gave him a look. "Well, more than usual."

He smiled, eyes crinkling up at the corners. "Ouch." 

Still, he met you halfway. His lips were a little chapped, maybe, but other than that you had no complaints. As your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer, his hands fell to your waist with a gentle but firm grip. He tasted very faintly of honey. 

It was all very sweet — pun not intended — and you didn't stop it when the kiss deepened. He hummed contentedly, just before you parted; both breathing heavier than you had been before. It was only a brief moment, a brief pause --  and then his lips were on yours again. Passionately, not hungrily. He'd never been a taker. Always a giver. 

Inches from you, after you parted for maybe the seventh or eighth time — you weren't quite keeping count— he murmured something, breathlessly. 

"Can we take this to bed?" He looked at you with nearly half-lidded eyes, and then added a quiet "please?"

"If you want to," you answered, softly. 

"Very much," was his reply, followed by another dizzying kiss. 

His armor and various articles of gear were soon discarded into a small pile, leaving him in just his dark green tunic, pants, and other assorted under-layers. 

At first, he'd been a bit awkward concerning his prosthetic. Insecure. But now, after climbing onto the mattress with you, he deftly removed it and put it to the side with a dull clunk . It didn't come up often as an issue, anyway — after a fair bit of messing around, trying to find positions that wouldn't cause him to lose his balance and topple over, you'd adapted quite easily. 

Right now, you weren't even moving at a speed that could possibly make him fall over. 

He settled back onto the pillows as you hovered over him. Then, you leaned down to continue what you'd started. His hands settled somewhere on your back — he made a small noise as your tongue slipped into his mouth. Warm and longing, he pulled you impossibly closer, craving the feeling of your body pressed against his. 

Soon, his hands snaked below your tunic, seeking out your skin. You giggled, a little — his fingers were always cold after a flight — but they would warm up. In the meantime, you'd help him warm up, too. 

Hiccup shivered, almost imperceptibly, as your lips found his neck for a moment. Indulgently, you nibbled once, playfully, and his breath hitched. But he didn't let you continue much longer, and soon you were back to kissing him where he wanted you most. This was exactly how he liked it best; slow and steady, with no rush to completion. 

A short while later: you almost missed his words, soft as they were. You felt his calloused fingertips tracing patterns on your back all the while. 

"Can I take this off?" He asked, close enough that you could almost feel his lips shaping the syllables. 

You whispered a quiet affirmative. 

The cool air was fresh on your skin, goosebumps temporarily rippling across the newly-bare areas, but he soothed them. A kiss on your shoulder, your collarbone, just above your chest area, and then — your breath escaped in a shudder as his lips found one of your nipples, a hot contrast to the otherwise crisp temperature. After a cheeky, parting nip, he gave the other the same attention. His eyes slid shut after you let out a small, shaky sigh. 

Eventually, you helped him out of his tunic as well, covering the same ground as he had with your lips. His freckles weren't just limited to his face — they were all over his body, pretty much; some on his lean torso, some on his arms, others on his thighs, and even one or two on certain other areas — but you'd get to that later. 

He twitched slightly when you thumbed over his bony hips, his hand resting somewhere between the back and top of your head as you kissed a trail from one shoulder, down to just above his waistband, and then back to the other shoulder. Similarly to the map he was making of the world outside Berk, you enjoyed plotting out the routes between the occasional scar or mole. One jagged mark near his navel, from a bad fall into a thornbush. A couple of assorted scratches here and there from more recent events. You paid attention to each and every one. 

You looked at him, from where you rested near his chest, your own chest resting on his flat abdomen. He met your gaze — green eyes filled with nothing except pure adoration. 

When you moved upwards, kissing him again, he reciprocated eagerly. 

It wasn't long until your previously unhurried kisses grew heated. Hot. Heavy. You felt your face warm as you became aware of your desire — having started out subtle, only a nagging feeling at the back of your mind, but now nearly throbbing, tipping into desperation —

—it seemed he felt the same, as he returned what you were giving him enthusiastically. Even though you were pressed up against him again, his hands returning to your chest before sliding down to grip your waist — it wasn't enough, you were determined to take every low moan and high gasp he released—

Hiccup suddenly broke the kiss, nearly panting

You looked at him quizzically, after instinctively chasing his lips — you were about to ask if he was alright, but he spoke first.  

"Can we— " Catching his breath, he quickly continued. "—switch? Positions, I mean." 

"Oh." It only took you a millisecond to understand what he wanted.

You smiled. "Oh. Sure." 

Rolling off of him, it was your turn to lay back. He helped you shimmy out of your trousers — as he slid them down your legs, he paused to press a kiss just above your knee — before tossing your pants on the floor, where they joined the other abandoned clothes. You didn't care much for wrinkles at a time like this. He never cared for wrinkles, period. 

A pillow, most likely homemade, was slid underneath your hips. Hiccup had always liked every part of you, you were well aware of it. However, he seemed to enjoy your thighs the most; he especially enjoyed being between them. 

His thumbs found your inner thighs, gently drawing them apart as he made himself comfortable on his stomach. 

"Okay?" As he glanced up at you, you could pick out his eyelashes once again. 

"Yeah," you breathed. 

At the first touch of his lips, close to where you wanted them most, you shivered. 

He was patient again, drawing nearer and nearer to your sex — he wasn't the type to leave marks but also wasn't completely adverse to a little nipping. Nonetheless, he was gentle all the while, soothing whichever places he graced with his teeth with more open-mouthed kisses. 

You were tense with anticipation by the time he finally, finally licked a broad stripe up your cunt. 

Vividly, you still remembered the first time he'd eaten you out. What he completely lacked in experience, he made up for with sheer enthusiasm and a nearly all-consuming need to please — now, he still possessed that same enthusiasm, but instead of clumsy kisses and clueless, unskilled lapping, he knew exactly what to do. Hands reaching to cup at the backs of your thighs, he let out a muffled, quiet groan that sent wonderful vibrations dancing up your spine. 

He kept up a steady, firm rhythm, eyes fluttering shut again as he busied himself with his task at hand — his tongue working at your folds, flicking up to tease your clit, delving inside your cunt —  you were growing wetter by the passing minute. He practically worshiped you, and you were a grateful recipient, a grateful deity to a devout follower. 

Your legs trembled as you gradually approached the peak you needed so much. When his lips closed around your sensitive apex and sucked, gently — your hips instinctively twitched upwards, and you couldn't help the sound that tumbled from your mouth in response. 

One calloused finger easily slipped inside you, immediately crooking upwards towards your stomach, searching. It didn't take long for you to adjust, and after your whispered pleas, he added another, both massaging at the spot that made you sigh and gasp. All the while, he lavished attention on your clit with his tongue, occasionally letting out soft, nearly inaudible moans of his own. 

Even though you couldn't quite see it from your position, his hips shifted against the mattress, seeking just enough relief to take his mind off of his own arousal. But the other, rather large percentage of his attention was still focused on pleasing you — on making you come, trembling, onto his tongue as you had many times before. 

Speaking of time — you were unaware of just how much of it passed, but eventually, you felt the familiar coil tightening, warmth pooling low in your abdomen. He must've known, too, because that was precisely when he began doubling his efforts; his fingers prodding insistently in a come hither motion, while he pressed sloppy kisses to your clit, thumbing over the nub with the same already-occupied hand. 

Your back arched upwards, towards his mouth. Flushed and quivering, you nearly choked on a gasp. "Hic—" 

That was the most warning you could give, before you clenched down on his fingers, hips jerking as you came. Letting out a series of short, nearly wanton exclamations, you let your head sink back further into the pillows as he helped you ride out your orgasm. You saw stars for a split second, winking brightly behind your eyelids. 

He kept working at you until the aftershocks had faded, fingers sliding out of you with an almost filthy wet noise. 

You were still panting, face hot, as he absentmindedly popped them into his mouth, tongue swirling around his digits — eyes already heavy-lidded, they shut for a moment at your taste. After you returned to Earth, you drew him in for a kiss, not minding the slight tanginess. If anything, it made you want him more. 

Upon glancing downward, you could easily see the distinct evidence of Hiccup's desire, straining at his pants. 

His breath escaped in a hiss when you leisurely palmed him. 

Soon, you'd switched positions again, and you hovered just above his needy cock as he shifted back to lean on the headboard. 

You were still slick and loose from earlier, so with only a little bit of a stretch, you sank down on him, taking him inside your still-sensitive cunt; the sensations almost bordering on too much, but perfectly so. His face screwed up once he was fully hilted in your heat, and he paused to adjust himself, breath escaping in quick, high-pitched pants. It wasn't anything new — he was always already beyond worked up after eating you out. 

"Good?" You asked, after giving him a few seconds. 

"Yeahyeah yeah," he replied in a single breath, hands squeezing your hips, careful not to grip too tight — "gods , you're warm, mmh— " 

Slowly, you rocked. His grip tightened the tiniest bit. He didn't push you to go faster at all, or harder, letting you ride him at your own pace — but this wasn't for your pleasure. It was your turn to give and his to take. And so, you gave, brushing over his nipples and biting at the spots that always made him lose control. More and more moans fell from his lips, growing in volume and pitch —

He was begging, quietly, breathlessly. You captured his mouth again, biting his bottom lip, making him squirm. His cock twitched inside you, filling you up just right, as if his body was shaped by divine hands to perfectly fit yours —

You watched, reverently, when he finally reached his own ecstasy — you'd pulled him out, given him a couple of firm pumps — his voice cracked on a final, unrestrained whine as his release splattered across his stomach, thick and warm on your palm. It didn't matter how many times you'd witnessed him come — each time, he looked beautiful. 

His breath slowed, the dazedness fading from his expression. His hands loosened on your hips before he finally looked up at you, still considerably flushed. 

"That … " He swallowed. "Was that, uh … Fine?" 

You almost broke into a fit of giggles, but prevented it before it could happen by kissing him instead. Hiccup was perhaps a bit clumsy, but you didn't mind in the slightest. When you parted, you lingered — neither wanting to move just yet, feeling languid in the afterglow. 

"Yes, it was fine," you echoed. His nose wrinkled at your teasing tone, but he couldn't suppress his lopsided smile. A quick peck on your cheek, and then he was back to leaning on the pillows. 

"I'm glad it was fine." 

The sensation of cooling ejaculate was only bearable for a short amount of time, so eventually you did move to clean up. The wet towel was a little cold on your skin, and he thought so too, but it was all in the service of somewhat-proper hygiene. 

Thankfully, the cold failed to slip through the combination of your blankets and Hiccup — which was and had always been a very effective combination. 

You slipped into a comfortable slumber like that — both cozy and sated. He wasn't tense in the slightest as he held you, his chest rising and falling in a relaxed rhythm. If you concentrated, you could feel his heartbeat against your bare back. 

He always fell asleep before you. 

You hoped his dreams consisted of lovely things, always. 

[phoenixblaze1412]

can i request a fem reader who has a terrible moodswing during her period? i couldn't help but imagine dottore getting yelled at by reader because of her mood hehe, also, how will dottore handle the situation?

-🧊

Code Red.

Every segment knows of this. An event that happens every month and usually lasts for a week. Yes, their darling's monthly period pain.

Dottore is already aware of it. He was the one who made the code after all.

He would already have the medicine and painkillers that you may need to help suppress those cramps you have to endure. Ibuprofen, naproxen, aspirin and the like. All prepared and organised in a certain shelf titled 'For Pain/Cramps' just in case needed.

Ah, ah, ah. You are not eating various sugary treats or those cravings you want. The only treat you can consume is dark chocolate. Dottore explained that said product has magnesium that can also help alleviate your pain. Doctor's orders after all.

Dottore usually wouldn't be bothered when others would scream at him. But hearing your voice curse and yell at him would make him flinch. He knows it's part of your mood swings and it's normal but sometimes he would be overthinking some of the words you would say until you had to force it outta him during your post-period state.

If Dottore is busy in his laboratory or on a mission while you're on your period, he would send some of his segments to take care of you.

Dottore made sure to write a list of things needed for you and to take note of your mood swings because each emotion or reaction you show has various meanings that the segment has to understand to be able to handle the situation.

The segments, mostly the younger ones during Dottore's pre-fatui era, would be panicking over you. They read the notes given to them, yes. But did they understand? Absolutely not. They haven't taken care of you like this before but they were the ones ordered by Dottore himself to take care of you since they were available.

The segments even suggested of immediately putting you in the operating room right when they saw the blood staining your sheets and coming from down there. They thought that one of your organs must have popped and could require medical treatment immediately.

Dottore had to step in and rescue you right after Omega informed him that you were about to have surgery just because of some measly blood. He couldn't blame his segments for being so idiotic, he once thought you had an internal bleeding that he didn't examined carefully when he first found out about your period.

After that incident, he decided to hold a small meeting between himself and his segments and informed them of your monthly pain. He made sure the segments don't even bother to think of trying anything else to fix you other than follow the instructions he laid out when your menstrual cycle arrives.

Dottore may have forgot to inform them about the mood swings.

Later on, he found his segments sulking in the corner of your room with a hurt look plastered across their faces.

"..never have I seen a woman become so scary..."

"I blame you for this, Gamma."

"I didn't do anything! I was only giving her the medicine! Besides, Epsilon was supposed to bake treats for her."

"She already ate them all!"

"Enough of your chatter and stand up. She's acting like that because of her mood swings. It's part of her monthly cycle. So stop whining and get to work."

Yes, Dottore wrote down every little thing needed to do whenever you had your period but he left out a certain thing. Affections.

Any simple act of physical affection that he would initiate is already enough to keep you stable. From cuddles to forehead and cheek kisses all the way to whispering sweet words into your ear is enough to stop your mood swings from going haywire.

He wouldn't let his other segments know about it, just because they're him from different time periods doesn't mean he would let them give you affections. How ironic of him to be jealous of himself.

Nonetheless, when it comes to you, you are his and his alone.

[marinettesaltprompts]

Marinette Salt Prompt: Breaking the Norm and Breaking Fate

Since the Miraculouses were created, there has always been the idea of "True Holders". Those who were destined to have a defined connection to one specific Miraculous and could unlock far greater powers than any other user in their lifetime.

Unfortuately however, True Holders often brought more trouble for those part of the Order. Many a miraculous holder were chosen to wield a miraculous, only to be removed because a True Holder was found for their miraculous and were rightfully considered the better fit. Though some willingly gave up their miraculous, others were left in grief and denial, especially when the reveal of the True Holder meant that one or more holders were discarded, simply because they weren't enough.

In a few rare cases, a true holder meant that partners who held a miraculous were forcefully seperated once a True Holder came into the scene. These event usually resulted in heartbreak and revenge, as either the ex-wielder (or even their partner) went rouge against the Order and used their powers selfishly, often resulting in death and destruction.

Of course, that wasn't to say the Kwami's took it any better either. Some like Tikki just accepted it and moved on, while other Kwami's like Plagg hated the fact that many wielders were taken for them just because they weren't a "Perfect Fit"

Even when the Order fell, this dilema still remained in the latest chosen heroes:

Ladybug was a True Holder. Chat Noir ... wasn't. In fact, if Plagg was being serious, Adrien never felt like a fit for the Miraculous of Destruction at all. He was too soft, and too caring of others.

Fu knew this, having continued to search for the True Wielder as the heroes continued to take care of Hawkmoth, knowing of the eventual fate that Adrien would eventually be replaced, thus unwilling to confide in him the same way he did Ladybug.

Ladybug had begun to realize this as well, if only subconciously. As her power grew, the unknowing gap between them grew as well, as she began to see him as ... lesser. Less of a partner and more of a subordinate, someone who she felt only had to know about certain topics when it was needed (at least, according to her) rather than it being shared as partners. Even if Hawkmoth wasn't an issue, Plagg was sure she wouldn't be open to sharing her identity with Chat Noir, leaving herself vulnerable to someone unequal to her.

Hell, even the people of Paris seemed to notice the gap. Ladybug just seemed to glow and take all the focus when she appeared, and Chat ... was just there.

To anyone else, the fact that Adrien wasn't a True Holder was a sign he was always meant to be a temp, and that Plagg should just accept that.

Yet ... despite all that, Plagg refused. He thought Adrien was the best chosen he ever had. Though Adrien was emotionally a bad fit for destruction, he was a wonderful kid who took really good care of Plagg (and not just because of all the Camembert he could afford). Not to mention that the lack of a killing intent had meant his powers were held back, to the point where they were unlikely to hurt anyone if accidentally used on them (which was honestly a good thing, because Plagg's powers were beyond dangerous).

Yet, Plagg knew it wouldn't last long. If Fu and Ladybug had their way, Adrien would soon be gone, replaced by another holder. All while Adrien would be left oblivious to the situation until it was too late.

Plagg wasn't going to let that happen however.

And so... the little Cat Kwami began to plan as his wielder slept unawares.

If Adrien was not a True Holder, Plagg would go against fate and make him one. Fu and Ladybug be damned.

(Might add more later, but for now I thought I would share my initial idea. Let me know what you think!)

[timwhore]

Event ; Kinktober - Day 1, Wax play

Pairing : Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Content / Warning : Big chunk of the fic is pre-activity talk (reader introduce the kink and talks / sets boundaries with Jason around it, because that is a huge part of kinks / BDSM that i wanted to put in at least one of my piece for kinktober) and there is aftercare, no penetrative sex ( wax play + hndjob ), reader is the one leading and Jason is the one on the receiving end, Jason call reader 'sweetie', its said that Jason is usually the one giving / you are usually on the receiving end, a bit of nipples teasing toward the end. (this is 1.5K words, wrote in around 3hours, on the 30sept, its 10am please be indulgent lol)

Jason was a bit taken off guard when you asked him if he had any 'kinks' he wished to engage in, sexuality was not a taboo for him, and it's not like you both never did anything sexual or engaged in not vanilla activity in the bedroom. He just didn't expect to get asked this question, at 8am while he was drinking a very bitter - and honestly disgusting - cup of coffee after sleeping for a grand total of 5 hours, courtesy of a certain group of thugs deciding to cause problem in the dead of the nigh - and courtesy of being the vigilante that had to deal with them.

He took a second before answering a simple 'uh maybe ?', before returning to his cup of liquid dirt not expecting you to continue this conversation that you seemingly started out of nowhere. But much to his dismay you continued, 'because, I've been wanting to ... uhm, to try something out ...!' with a sly smile on your face.

Jason decide to entertain you, why not after all ? It's just 8am on a weekend, what the worst that could happen ?

He nodded, encouraging you to continue, but instead of continuing speaking you pulled a candle from g-d knows where, and set it in front of Jason. He looked at it with a questioning look, he grabbed the candle, 'So, you mind expanding or ?' he asked.

'Well ... I'd like to try wax play ! And you kinda need a candle for that ...' You answered, before waiting a second you continued, 'This one is like, ... skin safe ? Not harmful, so safe for ... that kind of stuff ! I think its made out of beewax ? Or soy, either one of the two', he nodded once again, signalling that he understood. He took a long sip of coffee, finishing his cup, 'Okay, so basically I pour, uh, wax on you and that's the kink ?', before adding with a sly grin 'You did your researcher uh ?'.

'I was actually thinking about you, being on the, uh receiving end ? If you are okay with that ! Couldn't want to force you into anything, and that's why I asked if you had anything you wanted to do in the bedroom.' You stopped for a second before continuing 'It's like a two way street that way!'.

Jason stared at you deadpan for a moment, he did not expect that, usually you were the one that 'received' and he was the one that 'gave'. He gave it a thought and just said a simple 'Huh, if that's what you want sweetie, I'm open to it.'

Truly, he was open to it, what you proposed still seemed relatively tame and he could be lying if he said it didn't sound appealing.

(still havent found a way to just do a timeskip, sorry for the immersion breaking parentheses but this is better than just starting the next scene directly in the bedroom, later in the day)

Jason was seated on the edge of the bed, looking the set up you carefully put together, on the bed you laid a towel, because obviously neither of you two wanted to get wax onto your bed, but the towel wasn't one of those rough one, you had carefully chosen one that was soft but couldn't be missed if ruined. On your bedside table was placed the candle you showed him earlier, and on his, there was an somewhat damp rag and a small glass of water and a small tube of burn cream - which you simply took out of your first aid kit as well as a box of tissues, on the floor there was a larger bucket of water, off to the side, as you said it was 'Just in case something happen, you cannot be too sure!'.

As he heard your footsteps coming closer toward the door he decided to already strip himself of his shirt, you opened the door, entering the door with in hands a packet of matches, 'Found them ! They were actually still in the kitchen drawer', you said while making your way over to the bed.

You sat next to him and reached over to grab the candle, you looked up and smiled at Jason, 'You're sure you still want that ? Of course we can still stop in the middle of it but, are you sure right now ?', Jason grinned and answered, 'I am a 100 percents sure sweetie, don't worry, I trust you'.

You took a match out of the book and lighted it up, you brought the burning match over to the wix of the candle, as the wix took the flame, you brought the match over you and softly blow on it, blowing out the fire. You decided to let the candle burn a bit before using it, to make sure there was nothing wrong it, in the meanwhile, you signalled to Jason to lie down with his head on your tights, you brushed your fingers through his hair lovingly.

You took the candle in one of your hand and dropped a bit of wax on your other hand to check if it was good to go, you hummed and then looked at Jason, 'Okay where I go', you leaned the candle over Jason chest, the candle wax slowly dropped, drop by drop of red coloured wax fell on Jason chest.

You tilted the candle back up, Jason did let out a small hiss when the first drop reached him but he seemed fine, his face was a bit flushed and when his eyes meet yours, he gave you a small smirk. You took it as a sign to continue, tilting once again the candles over his chest, this time lower down it, and for a bit longer this time, 'Are you enjoying that baby ?', you asked, more so to tease him more than anything. Jason had been very aloof, and made it seem like he was going along it for you - that it didn't brother him to try but it was not something that he was very into, but he was betrayed by the tent that had formed in his pant.

You put down the candle on the bedside table for a bit, which earned you a small whine from Jason, but ignoring it, you reached over to unbutton his pant, and pull his penis out of his boxer. You gently gave it a few strokes, making beads of pre-cum get on your hand, before grabbing the candles once again, Jason face's was now flushed, he was groaning at the loss of your cold-ish hand on his dick which made him feel a weird, pleasurable contrast between the feverish sensation on his chest and the feeling of your hand on his lower-half.

While stroking him, you let a few drops of candles wax hit his body again, this time going higher, toward his nipples, a more sensible part of Jason's body.

Jason moaned softly as he felt the heat propage to his nipples, he rutted his dick against your hand, and started to lowly beg you to 'go faster' 'harder' 'more please'.

You decided to oblige him, you didn't want to drag this session on too much, after all this was your first one, and Jason was starting to look clearly overstimulated.

You continued to let the candles wax drip onto Jason, and started rubbing him faster, you softly blew on the candle wix and set it down on the bedside table. You continued to stroke him and used the hand that used to hold the candle to tease Jason's nipples, this tipped him over the edge, making Jason blow his load all over your hand and his chest.

You went to grab a tissue to clean your hand and ran your hand through his hair once again, 'Baby, are you okay ? Do you want me to clean you up ?', Jason was clearly spent, and he just nodded while closing his eyes.

You took another tissue to clean his cum off him first, then you strategically decided to first scratch, gently, the wax off his chest, once that was done you took the damp rag, and run it on his chest, Jason shrugged from the feeling.

'Baby, sit up' you told him, he groaned softly but did as you told, you handed him the glass of water that was sitting on his bedside table. 'Drink up, you need to hydrate your inside ~', you said teasingly. Jason did not brother to answer and simply took the glass and took a long sip of water before giving it back to you.

You grabbed the burn cream, 'I'm gonna put some cream on you 'kay ? Couldn't want your chest to be all burned, could we ?', you ruffled his hair once again, enjoying how calm and just submissive he was. You opened the cream and took a small dab of cream and spread it on his chest, first near his nipples, causing Jason to shivers, then spread the rest of his chest, where the rest of the wax was.

'It's done, you should let the cream sit and absorb, so why not take a nap, while I clean up ?' You asked him, giving him a small kiss on his check. Jason once again simply nodded and just let his body fell on the bed, where the towel still was, 'Well, won't get that back for now I guess' you thought. Before getting up from the bed and going to clean and put everything where it belongs.