#literally just be a good person life is too short to hold such contempt for those less fortunate than you

[crearuru]

actually i have more complaining to do about religion why the fuck are evangelicals so awful to the poor and the sick. every time an evangelical spits upon the poor they should be forced to reread the book of job but the names are all altered to be their family friends and selves and its on a projector screen and their eyelids are held open clockwork orange style and every time they sneer at their circumstances they get a shock to keep them from getting too comfortable

[mdhwrites]

Recently, I've been poring over the 'TOH critical' tags and, as someone who wanted to properly watch the show, seeing just how many flaws the writing and characters have kinda turned me off from even starting for a bit. Before I found these tags, I would have assumed Owl House was some kind of flawless untouchable masterpiece. Now, I can see that it is immensely flawed. Not bad, but flawed. It has great ideas that it just spaffs up the walls. In some cases that I've seen, it goes against its own message, which brings me to the point of this.

The show seems to have a message of 'be a weirdo! Be who you want to be and don't let anyone tell you to be something you're not'. This 'be yourself' message is fine in a vacuum, but then there's a character who's treatment in the show goes against this. Hooty! From the moment he's introduced, Hooty is presented as a weird creature. Even other people in the Demon Realm find him unnatural. He's kinda in his own world, and he says and does things that are weird. This would work well for the message, but the problem arises from other characters' treatment of him.

Everyone fucking HATES Hooty! They loathe him! They call him names, they hit him, they put him down constantly, the works! Everyone holds him in open contempt! I wouldn't really have an issue with this at first, but Luz also takes part in some of these actions. It would be one thing for negative/antagonistic characters to be doing this, but the self-proclaimed 'weirdo' main characters? She seems annoyed by Hooty's very existence. Don't get me wrong, he IS annoying, but he's also just being himself. He's a proud weirdo and doesn't let anyone stop him from being who he wants.

Why doesn't Luz love him?

He is exactly the type of person(?) who she should feel connected with. And the fact she joins in on some of the bullying is real shitty. Keep in mind Luz was ridiculed and ostracised for being weird, so her then turning around and being all dismissive and annoyed by someone who is, for all intents and purposes, just like her is shitty.

Personally, I would have had it that Luz really likes Hooty. She admires how he's so unapologetic in his weirdness. You could even still have Eda hitting him and calling him names, which Luz calls out. She knows what it's like to be put down for just being yourself, and she's not gonna stand to see someone else get the same treatment.

Or, another idea, Luz starts out sharing Eda's view on Hooty and being annoyed by him. One time, he does something or shows Luz something he's proud of. She calls him or it or both stupid, and Hooty just....cries. I don't mean overblown waterfalls-out-the-eyes crying, I mean he turns his head down and looks visibly upset.

Luz sees that her words have genuinely hurt Hooty. This could be her realising that Hooty isn't just some weird talking punching bag to hurl abuse at. For his weird actions and appearance, he's a person too. Her being mean to him just for being himself, she realises, makes her no better than her bullies.

Then, to make this even more shitty, the characters DO start being nicer to him later on, but only after he's proven himself useful. So that's a good message, isn't it? 'Love is conditional!' It really makes the 'found family' aspect of the Owl House residents feel all the more forced.

Tl;Dr It's okay to be a weirdo, unless you're Hooty!

(But that's just me! I hope all of this made sense and you can decipher what I'm trying to say😊)

So the short answer to this is that Hooty is essentially character/thematic assassination on... Everyone? Because the show wants to say "Be who you are! Have freedom! Express yourself!" Hooty however is constantly mocked, belittled and literally hurt by others with at best an apology. People treat his portable form as gross despite that letting him experience more of life and the one time people begrudgingly acknowledge he is truly good, they then force him to promise to not repeat the helpful behavior. He is not allowed freedom, expression or to be himself without ridicule, EVEN BY LUZ.

This... However has a bigger problem. Hooty is a bit character after all. If you want to claim he doesn't matter because he's just a joke... There's okay precedent for it. The problem is that then you have to ask what he's mocking. After all, gag characters are all about mocking a certain archtype or the like. King's whole point is to mock children who think themselves as self important and point out how deluded and funny that is, or how funny a deluded sense of self grandeur in general is, at least in the first season. As such... What is Hooty?

Hooty is Sheldon. Not literally but spiritually and this is gonna get kind of rough but here me out. For those who don't get the reference, Sheldon is the main autistic representation in The Big Bang Theory. He is also the most antagonistic force within the friend group. Not because he's evil or anything but because he his own certain ways of doing things and ways he looks at things and as such actually has a lot of episodes about expanding his perception of the world and of others learning to understand who he is and why he is the way he is. The show is actually shockingly respectful in this way, at least most of what I have seen of it, and I can portray this with the best joke I can recall from the series. It also will help me later in why The Big Bang Theory is better than TOH at one certain element people REALLY want to say TOH is great about.

The setup is that the other three main dudes are at a white board, discussing plans to go so see a movie. Every plan they devise runs into a road block because of allergies, time, etc. like that, not even only just because of Sheldon's quirks. However, then the lead, the Ross of the group, stops and goes, "I see it." The others squint and look closer before he adds, "It's the only way." The other two agree... And then they all just leave without Sheldon coming with. Sheldon pauses, looks at the board and goes, "They're correct. It was the only way."

I LOVE this joke... Because it's not mean AT ALL. One might think if they're overly sensitive that it is. I mean, how could they leave their friend behind!? But Sheldon is very honest and up front about his quirks and habits. These guys know him well enough that they know better than to force him out of his comfort zone. That he doesn't function that way. Sheldon KNOWS THIS TOO. As such, when presented with the options of telling Sheldon they can't go because they can't go without him or still having a good night and not making their friend feel bad for being why they couldn't go out, they choose to go out and Sheldon agrees that it was the correct option. They respected him while still living their lives.

And this is because The Big Bang Theory's pitch is not to be offensive to nerds like many online people like to make it out to be (I fucking hate people who call it 'Nerd Black Face') but to just make fun of us like any sitcom would. Sitcoms are parodies of real life. They always exaggerated characters we know are somewhat true. We know a Kramer, we know a Ross, we know a Barney, we know a Lorraine. Are they exactly like this? No, it's cranked up so that it's a comedy, that's the fucking point. But this comedic framing also allows it to be honest about ALL sides of nerd dom.

Sheldon is BY FAR made out to be the most successful, intelligent and wealthiest of ALL the guys. Also, all the guys are doing well in their fields and monetarily. Do they have widespread fame and acclaim? Not really but they're not discredited or anything, they just have interdepartmental bickering. That's accurate from literally every scientist I have seen talk about the subject. It's genuine about the good and the bad of the nerd experience while being entertaining.

So what the fuck does any of this have to do with The Owl House? And especially Hooty? It's actually quite simple. While TOH champions having a nerd protagonist, it presents the 'gentrified nerd'. The convenient nerd. They know about fanfiction but won't force you to actually hear about it. They have interests but not hyperfixations. They don't ever get lost down a rabbit hole because they're passionate about something or just want to tell you a neat fact.

Do you know who does though? Hooty. Hooty just wants someone who is willing to listen about his day. He has some weird quirks to how he behaves and he likes some strange things like bugs. He will talk to you for hours on a subject, randomly and just because he can and might forget that you might have other things to do. To me, those are very, VERY accurate parts of nerd life... And we're supposed to fucking HATE Hooty for these things. Remember the only person, in the ENTIRE SERIES to actually befriend Hooty instead of treating him at best as a convenience is Liltih... At the start of her becoming a joke. The only person who shows him real, genuine compassion... Also becomes 'The Cool Aunt' who hyper fixates on niche architecture and has her trauma of working the EC mocked as just being really bad at her job.

It is, genuinely, kind of gross to me. I've actually talked about this before that the show is so hyperfocused on a very specific, very small set of people for who it approves of, which is essentially whoever fits into Luz correctly, that anyone who felt excluded by the show is extremely valid. And yes, Luz has a montage at the start of silly, over the top and extreme behavior... That doesn't continue. At all. The one time she subjects someone to an Azura rant is to torture Eda enough to go to the Convention and that's only because they were already on the subject because King was interested. She quotes Azura but quickly and doesn't lose the thread. She might say a cute word like 'Snorses' but not even enough to make a break in the conversation.

She is convenient. Gus is only interested in human stuff when it's convenient. Willow will put aside her interest in plants when it's inconvenient. Amity just stops giving a shit about being an intellectual AT ALL post her getting a crush. Hunter wears a wolf t-shirt and gets into Cosmic Frontier enough to cosplay it for Halloween... But only Halloween. These are people who are extremely socially acceptable in every way.

Which... explains why nerds love them actually. See, I think Big Bang Theory does deserve criticism, it is by no means perfect and I would be VERY interested in hearing what the Jewish community thinks of Howard who is easily the most problematic character in the show but not all of the criticism is genuine. I think a lot of it comes down to the fact that we're used to a side, gag character representing the kind worst parts of us... But we're not used to being the focus. We can laugh at all the broke bitches who show up in Sitcoms or the jock failures who are meatheads, etc. like that... But laugh at ourselves? Why would we do that? Why would we allow that? We're better than what this show depicts, even if we're not.

It is inconvenient to the narrative we wish to tell ourselves that we are still the outcasts. That are we not part of the dominant culture and so it is unfair to mock our interests and lifestyle. But like... Marvel movies have been the biggest blockbusters for well over a decade and no one bats a fucking at that. D&D is quickly becoming a household name due to its ever expanding influence. We are not the outcasts anymore. Being into a weird cartoon is not some shocking thing like it was 12 years ago when Bronies first made people aware that this subculture of nerds existed. Times are changing but we still wish to see ourselves as only the victims, even as more and more our spaces show that they are just as evil, corrupt, manipulative and cruel as any athletic superstar or pretty boy actor's club.

A lot of these nerds want to believe they are Luz. Never wrong, never giving anyone a reason to dislike them, and always just passionate about the things they like, never annoying. And you know who those people would mock? Who those people HAVE mocked?

Hooty. Because he's more real. He's the demon they wish they didn't have to face in the mirror. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I really do want to re-emphasize this: FUCK HOWARD. Big Bang is NOT good for the jewish community and I don't think if I watched it nowadays I would be able to tolerate his depiction AT ALL. Also, Raj is also probably all sorts of rough too. I'm ONLY defending the nerd portrayal part of Big Bang.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[theshedding]

Lil Nas X: Country Music, Christianity & Reclaiming HELL

I don’t typically bother myself to follow what Lil Nas X is doing from day to day, or even month to month but I do know that his “Old Town Road” hit became one of the biggest selling/streamed records in Country Music Business history (by a Black Country & Queer artist). “Black” is key because for 75+ years Country music has unsuspiciously evolved into a solidly White-identified genre (despite mixed and Indian & Black roots). Regrettably, Country music is also widely known for anti-black, misogynoir, reliably homophobic (Trans isn’t really a conversation yet), Christian and Hard Right sentiments on the political spectrum. Some other day I will venture into more; there is a whole analysis dying to be done on this exclusive practice in the music industry with its implications on ‘access’ to equity and opportunity for both Black/POC’s and Whites artists/songwriters alike. More commentary on this rigid homogeneous field is needed and how it prohibits certain talent(s) for the sake of perpetuating homogeneity (e.g. “social determinants” of diversity & viable artistic careers). I’ll refrain from discussing that fully here, though suffice it to say that for those reasons X’s “Old Town Road” was monumental and vindicating. 

As for Lil Nas X, I’m not particularly a big fan of his music; but I see him, what he’s doing, his impact on music + culture and I celebrate him using these moments to affirm his Black, Queer self, and lifting up others. Believe it or not, even in the 2020′s, being “out” in the music business is still a costly choice. As an artist it remains much easier to just “play straight”. And despite appearances, the business (particularly Country) has been dragged kicking and screaming into developing, promoting and advancing openly-affirming LGBTQ 🏳️‍🌈 artists in the board room or on-stage. Though things are ‘better’ we have not yet arrived at a place of equity or opportunity for queer artists; for the road of music biz history is littered with stunted careers, bodies and limitations on artists who had no option but to follow conventional ways, fail or never be heard of in the first place. With few exceptions, record labels, radio and press/media have successfully used fear, intimidation, innuendo and coercion to dilute, downplay or erase any hint of queer identity from its performers. This was true even for obvious talents like Little Richard.

(Note: I’m particularly speaking of artists in this regard, not so much the hairstylists, make-up artists, PA’s, etc.)

_____

Which is why...in regard to Lil Nas X, whether you like, hate or love his music, the young brother is a trailblazer. His very existence protests (at least) decades of inequity, oppression and erasure. X aptly critiques a Neo-Christian Fascist Heteropatriarchy; not just in American society but throughout the Music Business and with Black people. That is no small deal. His unapologetic outness holds a mirror up to Christianity at-large, as an institution, theology and practice. The problem is they just don’t like what they see in that mirror.

In actuality, “Call Me By Your Name”, Lil Nas X’s new video, is a twist on classic mythology and religious memes that are less reprehensible or vulgar than the Biblical narratives most of us grew up on vís-a-vís indoctrinating smiles of Sunday school teachers and family prior to the “age of reason”. Think about the narratives blithely describing Satan’s friendly wager with God regarding Job (42:1-6); the horrific “prophecies” in St. John’s Book of Revelation (i.e. skies will rain fire, angels will spit swords, mankind will be forced to retreat into caves for shelter, and we will be harassed by at least three terrifying dragons and beasts. Angels will sound seven trumpets of warning, and later on, seven plagues will be dumped on the world), or Jesus’s own clarifying words of violent intent in Matthew (re: “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” 10:34). Whether literal or metaphor, these age old stories pale in comparison to a three minute allegorical rap video. Conservatives: say what you will, I’m pretty confident X doesn’t take himself as seriously as “The true and living God” from the book of Job.

A little known fact as it is, people have debunked the story and evolution of Satan and already offered compelling research showing [he] is more of a literary device than an actual entity or “spirit” (Spoiler: In the Bible, Satan does not take shape as an actual “bad” person until the New Testament). In fact, modern Christianity’s impression of the “Devil” is shaped by conflating Hellenized mythology with a literary tradition rooted in Dante’s Inferno and accompanying spooks and superstitions going back thousands of years. Whether Catholic, Protestant, Mormon, Scientologist, Atheist or Agnostic, we’ve spent a lifetime with these predominant icons and clichés. (Resource: Prof. Bart D. Erhman, “Heaven & Hell”).

So Here’s THE PROBLEM: The current level of fear and outrage is: 

(1) Unjust, imposing and irrational. 

(2) Disproportionate when taken into account a lifetime of harmful Christian propaganda, anti-gay preaching and political advocacy.

(3) Historically inaccurate concerning the existence of “Hell” and who should be scared of going there. 

Think I’m overreacting? 

Examples: 

Institutionalized Homophobia (rhetoric + policy)

Anti-Gay Ministers In Life And Death: Bishop Eddie Long And Rev. Bernice King

Black, gay and Christian, Marylanders struggle with Conflicts

Harlem pastor: 'Obama has released the homo demons on the black man'

Joel Olsteen: Homosexuality is “Not God’s Best”

Bishop Brandon Porter: Gays “Perverted & Lost...The Church of God in Christ Convocation appears like a ‘coming out party’ for members of the gay community.”

Kim Burrell: “That perverted homosexual spirit is a spirit of delusion & confusion and has deceived many men & women, and it has caused a strain on the body of Christ”

Falwell Suggests Gays to Blame for 9-11 Attacks

Pope Francis Blames The Devil For Sexual Abuse By Catholic Church

Pope Francis: Gay People Not Welcome in Clergy

Pope Francis Blames The Devil For Sexual Abuse By Catholic Church

The Pope and Gay People: Nothing’s Changed

The Catholic church silently lobbied against a suicide prevention hotline in the US because it included LGBT resources

Mormon church prohibits Children of LGBT parents to be baptized

Catholic Charity Ends Adoptions Rather Than Place Kid With Same-Sex Couple

I Was a Religious Zealot That Hurt People-Coming Out as Gay: A Former Conversion Therapy Leader Is Apologizing to the LGBTQ Community

The above short list chronicles a consistent, literal, demonization of LGBTQ people, contempt for their gender presentation, objectification of their bodies/sexuality and a coordinated pollution of media and culture over the last 50+ years by clergy since integration and Civil Rights legislation. Basically terrorism. Popes, Bishops, Pastors, Evangelists, Politicians, Television hosts, US Presidents, Camp Leaders, Teachers, Singers & Entertainers, Coaches, Athletes and Christians of all types all around the world have confused and confounded these issues, suppressed dissent, and confidently lied about LGBT people-including fellow Queer Christians with impunity for generations (i.e. “thou shall not bear false witness against they neighbor” Ex. 23:1-3). Christian majority viewpoints about “laws” and “nature” have run the table in discussions about LGBTQ people in society-so much that we collectively must first consider their religious views in all discussions and the specter of Christian approval -at best or Christian condescension -at worst. That is Christian (and straight) privilege. People are tired of this undue deference to religious opinions. 

That is what is so deliciously bothersome about Lil Nas X being loud, proud and “in your face” about his sexuality. If for just a moment, he not only disrupts the American hetero-patriarchy but specifically the Black hetero-patriarchy, the so-called “Black Church Industrial Complex”, Neo-Christian Fascism and a mostly uneducated (and/or miseducated) public concerning Ancient Near East and European history, superstitions-and (by extension) White Supremacy. To round up: people are losing their minds because the victim decided to speak out against his victimizer. 

Additionally, on some level I believe people are mad at him being just twenty years old, out and FREE as a self-assured, affirming & affirmed QUEER Black male entertainer with money and fame in the PRIME of his life. We’ve never, or rarely, seen that before in a Black man in the music business and popular culture. But that’s just too bad for them. With my own eyes I’ve watched straight people, friends, Christians, enjoy their sexuality from their elementary youth to adolescence, up and through college and later marriages, often times independently of their spouses (repeatedly). Meanwhile Queer/Gay/SGL/LGBTQ people are expected to put their lives on hold while the ‘blessed’ straight people run around exploring premarital/post-marital/extra-marital sex, love and affection, unbound & un-convicted by their “sin” or God...only to proudly rebrand themselves later in life as a good, moral “wholesome Christian” via the ‘sacred’ institution of marriage with no questions asked. 

Inequality defined.

For Lil Nas X, everything about the society we've created for him in the last 100+ years (re: links above) has explicitly been designed for his life not to be his own. According to these and other Christians (see above), his identity is essentially supposed to be an endless rat fuck of internal confusion, suicide-ideation, depression, long-suffering, faux masculinity, heterosexism, groveling towards heaven, respectability politics, failed prayer and supplication to a heteronormative earthly and celestial hierarchy unbothered in affording LGBT people like him a healthy, sane human development. It’s almost as if the Conservative establishment (Black included) needs Lil Nas X to be like others before him: “private”, mysteriously single, suicidal, suspiciously straight or worse, dead of HIV/AIDS ...anything but driving down the street enjoying his youth as a Black Queer artist and man. So they mad about that?

Well those days are over.  

-Rogiérs is a writer, international recording artist, performer and indie label manager with 25+ years in the music industry. He also directs Black Nonbelievers of DC, a non-profit org affiliated with the AHA supporting Black skeptics, Atheists, Agnostics & Humanists. He holds a B.A. in Music Business & Mgmt and a M.A. in Global Entertainment & Music Business from Berklee College of Music and Berklee Valencia, Spain. www.FibbyMusic.net Twitter/IG: @Rogiers1

[chazz-anova]

A Little Bit Of Magic - Chapter 1

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Lady Veronica Rook, a wizard turned rogue bounty hunter and part time thief, is approached by one of the King's men on a stormy night to acquire her services. Little does she know, she's setting off on a quest that will change her forever. (Fantasy!AU)

A/N: LITERALLY I saw one picture and that spawned this entire AU lmao, this has been a fun start and I'm excited for the rest of this little mini-series! I hope you all like as well <3

Dancing candlelight casted amorphous shadows on a bare stone wall. In the center of the room, a firepit blazed; warming the bones of weary travelers who sought refuge from a tempest storm brewing outside the walls of the inn.

Barmaids bustled from table to table, bringing stout ale to rowdy patrons. One such patron sat at the short oak bar, nursing a tankard of beer. In front of the customer stood a barkeep who looked rather piqued. “Veronica, every night you sit here and take up space that could be filled by paying customers. Pray tell, what must I do to squeeze some coin from you?” The woman asked, her sunny blonde hair bobbing as she swept a damp rag over the counter.

Across the bar, Veronica looked up from her stein with a smirk as she replied, “You’d just as likely squeeze coin from me as easily as you’d milk a dragon, Mary May. Is there not a special allowance for a friend who’s saved your life twice over?”

“If I’d known your aid would end up costing me damn near a barrel of ale in the long run, I would have gladly thrown myself into the jaws of death!” Mary professed dramatically, a small smile giving her away.

V rose her tankard high, proclaiming “And what you pay in ale, you make back doubly in entertainment!”

With a sigh- the barmaid stashed the rag she’d been holding under the counter. “Well allow me to take my leave, before your entertainment proves to be too much!” Mary May rolled her eyes as she departed to the back storeroom; Veronica always knew how to work her last nerve.

Now left to her own devices, the woman spun in her seat to analyze the other patrons. She hoped with any luck, she could swindle some coin from someone deep in their cups to secure a room for the night. Unfortunately- saving a friend’s life only afforded you free drinks, not free rooms. Having grown up in the streets of the Kingdom of Hope, Veronica trusted her pickpocketing skills; especially in a tavern such as this.

The Splayed Eagle Inn was run by V’s friend, Mary May, and had been her home for the past few months. All types found themselves in this bar, whether they be well-to-do, working class, or a simple ne’er-do-well. Of course- Veronica liked to think she didn’t fit into any of those categories.

Sitting around the main floor of the inn were a few possible targets, and our girl set to sizing up the first; an older man seated in the corner. He wore the garb of the royal guard. His complexion was that of worn leather, and his eyes scanned the room suspiciously. ‘Not a great mark..’ Veronica thought, shifting her gaze to her next person.

The person in question was not a person at all, but rather a dwarf. The short man guzzled beer from his stein greedily, egged on by two more of his kind. Finishing the drink he slammed down his cup and roared in revelry. ‘Though dwarves love gold and these ones would certainly have some coin, perhaps they are a hair too unmanageable for a robbery.’ Considering this, the woman moved down the list.

Just as Veronica was about to size up her next mark, she felt a hand on her shoulder. The blonde turned, expecting to see Mary May had returned to give her more grief. V was surprised to see an unfamiliar face and she immediately went on the defense, shrugging the stranger’s hand off her shoulder. “Can I help you?” Her words dripped with distrust.

The stranger met her eyes with a look of contempt, and V considered grabbing her dagger in case things became dicey. The woman who’d grabbed her shoulder stepped back now, regarding Veronica coldly with dark eyes. She wore a black fur cape with the hood up, obscuring her features, though her greasy black hair hung in matted locks on her shoulders. She lifted her hood to reveal a ghastly scar across her face. “Yes, mage, I do believe you can help me.” The stranger chuckled.

Hearing her true title, Veronica started visibly, but quickly recovered. ‘How does she know? Certainly this wench is no mage, I sense no magic in her! Is she an assassin from the Guild? Gods, Mary May will kill me if I’ve brought such darkness to her doorstep!’ V’s inner monologue was harried, in contrast to her cool voice as she rebuffed, “Mage? Surely you jest! I am but a humble adventurer.”

Spitting at her feet, the woman scoffed. “Save your lies! I already know of you, Lady Veronica, and of your discharge from the Royal Mages Guild. I come seeking your help in regards to your… new vocation.”

“And what would that be?” V continued to be difficult, her tone hostile. She didn’t like how much this woman knew of her.

“Bounty hunting, of course. Or was it not you that the Royal Guard granted a bounty to just a week ago for bringing in one of the Banshee Queen’s sprites?” At this, Veronica’s mouth drew into a thin line. She knew she’d been got. The ravenette shrugged, “I dare not judge, how else is a rogue witch to make any coin these days?” Though she put on a facade of good cheer, something dangerous lurked in her gaze.

A humorless laugh escaped Ronnie and she lifted her chin defiantly, “Even if you speak the truth, why should I help you, hag?”

Smiling cruelly, she retorted “It is not I who requests your service, but your King and country.”

“Well, his Kingly-ness will simply have to bring is ass down here if he truly wants me help!” V laughed, chalking up the woman’s words to a childish prank.

Suddenly- the stranger closed the short distance between them and the mage felt the tip of a blade threatening to pierce her gut. “I would recommend a modicum of respect for King Dutch. As his bodyguard, I may feel inclined to defend his honor.”

Under her breath, Veronica murmured ancient arcane words and a ball of flames appeared in her spread palm near the woman’s head. “And I may feel inclined to worsen your scar if you do not back away.” She growled the threat, feeling a rush of relief when the King’s bodyguard moved away. She would rather not release a fan of fire in her friend’s bar.

Sheathing her dagger, the woman took a breath. “Let us start over. I am Jess Black, bodyguard and right hand to King Dutch Roosevelt.” She gave a stately bow along with her title.

“Well Lady Black, what would you have of me?” V asked, voice laden with suspicion. Though she preferred to seek her own bounties, a requisition from the King was sure to bring decent coin.

As they began to discuss business, Jess took a seat next to Veronica and spoke vaguely. “Our ruler would have you retrieve a package for him, for a hefty reward.” When the mage said nothing, she continued, “I cannot divulge the details- but you will find what you need in the hamlet of Fall’s End with a cleric named Jerome.”

“Am I expected to go forward with such little information?” She shook her head in disbelief, finally finishing her drink.

“You are expected to do as our ruler bids! I have told you all I know.”

Veronica’s brow furrowed as she probed, “Surely his majesty has sent some sort of incentive, if it is truly he who sent you!”

Jess sighed heavily, producing a leather pouch from the folds of her cape. She set it on the bar with a clink, and V grabbed it immediately. “Gods, there must be nearly forty gold here!” She exclaimed, counting it out quickly.

“Our benefactor has put this forward as a downpayment of sorts, with the promise of more once he’s gotten his package. On the condition that you leave immediately.” Jess asserted with a nod.

The blonde eyed the gold hungrily- knowing she was on hard times. “Well if my kingdom needs me, who am I to resist the call? Though surely ‘immediately’ could mean ‘first thing in the morn’, with his Highness’s mercy?”

Putting a hand on the pouch of gold, the ravenette shook her head. “I must insist on your departure this night, King Roosevelt wishes for no delay in your meeting with Jerome.”

For a moment Veronica’s gaze shifted from Jess back to the pouch of gold, but she relented with a sigh. “It will take me a moment to prepare myself, and I shall make haste.”

Jess gave a rare smile, acquiescing “Your speed is most appreciated.” She turned to the back wall of the bar then, wondering aloud, “Where is the damn barkeep?”

With their conversation over and coin now heavy in her pocket, V slipped behind the bar to the back office where she’d stashed her travel pack.

Mary May’s office was small but tidy, featuring a large desk and business ledger. Sitting there was Mary herself, counting out coin into the safe next to the desk. Next to the safe was Veronica’s beige backpack, which May let her stash in the office during business hours. Hearing her footsteps, the blonde turned away from her safe to face V. “Ah, come to retrieve your loot without buying a room to store it in first? You must have gotten yourself a job.”

A smile crossed Veronica’s features, showing pearly white teeth. “You know me well friend, I must be off immediately unfortunately, so it would appear you’ll save some ale tonight yet!” She crossed the threshold into the room, leaning over the other to grab her sack.

“My, it must be an illustrious one to cause you to abandon a perfectly good night of drinking!” She chuckled.

This made the blonde stop a moment as she considered telling her friend the details. Thinking better of it, she instead said, “Nothing so fancy! I should be back in a week at the latest, try not to miss me too much!” Giving Mary May a chuckle., Before Veronica was fully out the door, she leaned back to say quickly “And be sure to give your worst service to the raven-haired patron sitting at the bar!”

V slung her sack across her back, weaving through Mary May’s drunken customers towards the front door. Once she cleared the room, she turned back one last time and saw Jess staring at her as she departed. The look on her face gave her chills.

The heavy door to the Splayed Eagle Inn opened with a prolonged creak, and gave way to a gust of wind that caused the mage to pull her cloak closer around her. She stepped foot into the deluge outside and hustled into the treeline, taking her first steps towards facing an evil she couldn’t begin to imagine.

[big-dong-zhong]

1 - Melt

Update: I see that this post still gets new notes, so allow me to redirect you to the updated version of this chapter, HERE!

Words: 1,873

Rated [T+]  - Here is an explanation of my rating system.

Tartaglia/Lumine, fluff (i guess?), sorry I really don’t know what to say here.

Lumine is ill-prepared for Snezhnaya’s weather.

Notes: I read somewhere that Childe has two older siblings as well, but since I’ve written this I’m not 100% on that and I’m too scared to look it up. I also wrote this on impulse and never went back to it, only spiraled it into complete chaos.

Tartaglia lay in his childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling. It had been years since he had last slept there, and the scratching of the wool against his skin gave him a nostalgic sorrow, like he had left something behind. The other bed laid empty, another single wool blanket carefully draped over it. He put his arm over his eyes, wondering if it had been a good idea to return so soon.

The door opened quietly followed by light and hurried footsteps over the rug and to the other bed. The wood frame creaked under the weight of someone sitting upon it for the first time in years. A loud huff. Tartaglia could feel eyes on him. It was nearly impossible not to crack a smile, but he would pretend that he was asleep for now unless she addressed him.

"T-Tartaglia?"

"Lumine?" He grinned and quickly pulled his arm from his face and turned his head to look in her direction. Lumine was sitting upright on the bed, completely wrapped in the wool blanket with only her face visible, and she was pouting. Her cuteness caught him off guard and his heart may have skipped a beat or two, but he quickly regained his composure.

"It's cold," she grumbled, pulling the blanket even tighter around herself.

"Of course it's cold! We're in Snezhnaya. I really hope you didn't forget that somehow." He let out a laugh. "You could always come over here and I'll keep you warm." He turned to his side and lifted up his own blanket to invite her into his bed.

"No!" Lumine whispered harshly. "No way! I am not sharing a bed with you!" She shook her head as she declined.

"Well I guess you'll just freeze then," Tartaglia conceded and rolled back over. "A shame too. How will I ever be able to explain this to the Knights of Favonius? I guess I'll just have to run away and change my identity. They'll surely come after me if they think I let something happen to you out here." The sounds of the other bed creaking, and then footsteps toward him.

Got her.

"I didn't tell them," she mumbled. He turned to face her again, this time he was confused. It must have shown on his face because she continued. "I didn't tell anybody I was coming here. Not the Knights of Favonius or even the Adventurers’ Guild. It's not everyone's business what I'm doing every second of every day. I'm allowed to do things on my own, contrary to popular belief."

Tartaglia snorted, then laughed at the situation. Everyone really wanted a piece of her, didn't they? This girl who looked like a dumpling wrapped up in his brother's old wool blanket pouting at him was so important that several organizations felt the need to constantly keep tabs on her. It was only fair though, he figured. She was incredibly strong, not to mention nobody knew where she came from. She was very intriguing. He wanted to know more about her as well.

She sniffled. Tartaglia could see that her nose was getting red, and she kept scrunching her face like she felt a sneeze coming.

"Come on," he chuckled, "you can bring the blanket with you; just get in." Lumine glared down at him and very reluctantly sat on the edge of his bed, her back toward him. She scooted herself back on top of Tartaglia's blanket then lifted her legs into the bed and laid down, never once removing the blanket she already had around herself. He laughed. "Well this isn't exactly what I had in mind. It's not going to make a lot of difference if you're still under just one blanket."

"Then give me both of the blankets," she mumbled.

"Now that's cold, Lumine. You would let me freeze in the night? And after my family showed you so much hospitality. Imagine how upset my poor little siblings would be to find me frozen solid in the morning: a big brosicle!"

"Argh, fine!" Lumine had finally had enough of his antics. She jumped out of the bed and threw the second blanket she had wrapped herself with onto Tartaglia's face. "Make it up however you want, just do it fast okay!"

He laughed as he sat up, grabbing the blanket and unbundling it to toss over his own to make a double layer. Once he was satisfied that it was good enough he glanced toward Lumine and saw what she was wearing. A very short, white night dress with a frilled hem and collar, the latter of which rested halfway down her shoulders, exposing bare skin as well as her collarbones. He could see how delicate her legs were beneath the hem, which only barely covered the tops of her thighs. The fabric also seemed to be quite thin; silk from Liyue perhaps? Her arms were crossed over her chest so he couldn't gauge exactly how sheer the fabric was. Unfortunate, but he could live with the mystery for now. He grinned.

"Well no wonder you're cold," he teased her and lifted up the blankets. "Come on now before you freeze." Lumine glared down at him in contempt. "I'm not going to do anything weird," he insisted. She lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Promise?"

"Maybe I wouldn't go that-"

"I'm sleeping in Tonia's room," Lumine said as she began to turn around.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I promise I won't do anything weird." Tartaglia urged. She pursed her lips into an unsure frown and climbed into the bed, directly facing him. He nearly forgot to breathe in that moment, she was so close. Her toes brushed against his shin for a moment and he felt how ice cold her skin was. She really hadn't prepared for this trip, had she? At least she wasn't in Snezhnaya alone. She shuffled her arm to her front and placed her hand between their faces, her fingers curled except for one in particular.

"Pinkie promise me you won't do anything weird."

"You really don't trust me, do you?" He didn't even finish before she pushed her hand closer to his face. He was tempted to lightly nip at it just to get a reaction out of her. However, he knew she would be furious if he did, and he wasn't awake enough to chase her down in the snow. He sighed with a small laugh and brought his own hand to meet hers. He hesitated at first, his heart skipping a beat when their fingers first touched. "You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life," Tartaglia started.

"You break a pinkie promise," Lumine continued and narrowed her eyes, "I throw you on the ice." Their little fingers wrapped around each other.

"The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend." He tightened his grip, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. He hoped that she didn't notice how fast his heart was beating.

"The frost will freeze your tongue off, so you never lie again." They unclasped their little fingers and let their hands rest between them, not quite touching, but Tartaglia could start to feel her body heat under the blankets.

"Feeling warmer now that you're with me?" he asked with a smug grin. Lumine nodded and let out a small, breathy yawn that tugged on his heart strings. He wished he could fall asleep as fast as she did. If anything, laying next to her made him even more anxious. Every time she let out a deep breath he held his, unsure of what to do. Of course he knew he should just close his eyes and go to sleep, but he couldn't stop looking at her. She looked so small and calm, unlike the fury and excitement she radiated while awake. Tartaglia liked this side of her too. He stroked her arm with the tips of his fingers, feeling the warmth radiating off her skin, the sensation making his heart beat faster. He had promised he wouldn't do anything weird, but now he wasn't sure what Lumine's definition of weird could be. She stirred in her sleep, startling him to pull his hand away from her. It may have been just a nursery rhyme, but he knew Lumine would literally cut his tongue out if he broke his promise.

He held his breath, waiting for her to wake up and scold him, but she didn't open her eyes. Instead she moved closer to him, and closer to him. One of her legs slid between his, which in turn caused her dress to ride up and expose her abdomen to his own bare stomach. Her hand slid over his navel and reached around to his back under his shirt. The sensation of her smooth skin sent what felt like a bolt of lightning through his body, though somehow far different from any electro powers he’d used. Her face was only inches away from his. Lumine was so close to him that he couldn't breathe for fear of waking her. Yet, the anxiety he felt was invigorating. It was a new and foreign kind of excitement to him that he never even dreamed of experiencing. In fact, he'd never given any thought at all to this kind of intimacy with another person. Lumine. Her thoughts, her feelings, and her body; they were a whole new battlefield for him, one he wasn't sure if he could ever conquer, but that made the idea all the more exciting.

Tartaglia's breath finally escaped his lungs, involuntarily shaky and vocal. He moved his tongue around inside his mouth to get rid of the dryness that had taken hold. Luckily the cold had made it so he wasn't sweating from all of the new sensations he was experiencing. He was starting to feel lightheaded from all of the times he'd held his breath, but that in turn with their combined body heat had also started to make him sleepy. His breath steadied and Tartaglia was finally starting to relax. Lumine was definitely fast asleep, and it didn't look like she was going to wake up to any small movements he made. He decided that wrapping arms around each other wasn't anything weird and moved his arm to cradle her back.

He already knew that he liked her. Since the moment he'd met her he had wanted to be involved in her life, and fighting her had brought him exhilaration he could have only dreamed of. Now he felt that they could have something even more. Lumine was in his home, in his bed with him, the rest of his family sleeping soundly within the house. She didn't belong and yet she fit in so well. He didn't want to let her go. If they could lie there and hold each other forever he might even have been happy with just that. The tiredness was finally beginning to take over. He was as relaxed as he had ever been in her embrace.

Tartaglia shifted to grace Lumine's forehead with a long and chaste kiss, holding her body against his own. He rested his forehead against hers, and finally he was able to let sleep take him.

[spiderling-space]

For Malleyuu Week 2021

Day 3: Hurt or Comfort 

This short fic is between my MC, Natalie Croft, and Malleus. Written in 3rd perspective from Malleus' POV.

This is slightly inspired by this idea

Italics indicate thoughts

Malleus Draconia & Natalie Croft

"Natalie"

"Malleus," Natalie greeted him, smiling and waving "oh, you addressed me by my name which means this is gonna be a serious talk." She shook her head and adorned a faux serious expression.

After spending a long time together, Malleus started to pick up when Natalie was being playful, sarcastic or stern. While she was trying to humour him, she made a correct statement. What he intended to say was crucial for him.

"It is," He affirmed the gravity of the situation serenely. "I would be elated if you agree to meet my grandmother." 

She tilted her head, furrowing her eyebrows. "I uh... What?"

"I told my grandmother everything about you. She requested to see you in person in order to get to know my special friend." Malleus clarified her confusion. That was right. He wrote about his special friend in his letter to his grandmother. All those moments they spent together, all the activities they did together and all the emotions she made him feel. She was truly a special friend as Lilia explained the type of relation he had with Natalie.

Her expression softened "Aww," she patted his arm, beaming at him, "thank you!" To his contempt, she withdrew her hand. "I'd love to meet her! When can I meet her?" Her excitement to meet his only relative was fluttering his heart gleefully. 

"I will be going back to Valley of Thorns during spring break. It would be magnificent if you choose to accompany me."

"Of course!" Malleus was overjoyed to hear her response. "Oh wait!" She touched his shoulder before he apparated away, making eye contact. Her beautiful green eyes were glinting with mischief. "So you think I'm special?" She flipped her hair with her hand, a bright smile adorning her face before winking at him, making his heart skip a beat.

Malleus became accustomed to her teasing, in fact, he sometimes yearned for it since he knew she was that way only with the people she deemed close. However, right now he just needed to send a letter to his grandmother, notifying her that his special friend agreed to meet her during the break. Getting away from her question was just another perk. "Farewell, Natalie." He chuckled before apparating to his room.

--------

The first day of spring break arrived in the blink of an eye for Malleus. Lilia and Silver were first going to go to Lilia's house in the forest, taking a break from knight duty while Malleus was already surrounded by multiple Royal Guards. Meanwhile, Sebek was going to stay with his parents even though he insisted to continue being his knight. Malleus knew that boy needed a break but was too proud to admit so he ordered him to spend time with his family. 

Then there were just him, Natalie and Grim who would go to his palace. He had ordered a special room to be prepared for her and Grim, filling the room with her aesthetics and ordered the cooks to prepare her favourite meals. He wanted to impress her and show her a  glimpse of the life she could have in Valley of Thorns. He also took Grim's preference into account as he knew Grim was holding a significant place in her heart.

"Nice," As Natalie's melodic voice filled the Magic Mirror room, Malleus started to get excited, yet showing a stoic expression on the outside. "Last time, students were going back to their homes, this place was like a circus."

"The others don't want to accidentally bump into me. Headmaster Crowley doesn't want the students to experience fear as they return home so he arranges my return home earlier than others." He explained casually.

"That's so cool! You won't get squashed between people and move freely!" Natalie added as she was pulling her 2 large baggage, clearly having a hard time with it. "Grim! Stop sitting on the case and help me push!" It was an amusing scene for Malleus but he didn't want her to force herself so he flicked his hand and her baggage started to float towards the Mirror. "Gosh, I wish I was able to do that!" He was always delighted to see her impressed by something he did or said. She looked around the room as if she was searching for something. "Where is your baggage?"

He chuckled, such a silly question, "I do not have any need to bring any of my stuff as I have everything I need in the palace." He then took a note of her baggages, it looked heavy in human standards as she was having a hard time moving it, knowing that she wasn't a weakling. "Do you plan to move in completely?" He had an opportunity to tease her so he had to take it.

"Oh my! You figured out my secret! How did you know?" She answered with the most exaggerated shocked expression he had ever seen. He knew she was only joking but a part of him wanted this to be the reality. He let out a small laugh to let her know that he understood her joke. "Okay, okay, I'll tell you. I have hidden a body there and I was planning to dump it in Valley of Thorns." So she wished to continue with her silly jester. "Fine, I'll tell ya. As you see, my clothing is different than usual." he nodded in agreement, he had noticed everything about her the moment she walked in. "I noticed that you cover your skin and I thought that it might be something cultural so as you see, I am covering more of my body. In my luggage, I have clothes in different styles that I'll wear if it is okay by Valley of Thorn's culture. I didn't want to be disrespectful towards you or your culture." His heart melted at that moment. She was sensitive towards his homeland and it was further proving that he chose the correct person. "Other than that I have my shoes, personal hygiene, feminine hygiene, ibuprofen, Grim's stuff, makeup, hair care products, hairdryer, hair curler, sunglasses, slippers, pyjamas and so on." He didn't expect a literal answer and was impressed by her dedication to her needs on vacation. Though, he didn't understand some of the items she listed.

"Since you have arrived, we can finally go." Malleus extended his hand towards Natalie, waiting for her to hold it as they went through the mirror. The second her hand touched his, grabbing it, Malleus felt a jolt run through his hand. He searched Natalie's face to see any reaction that would indicate she felt the same way but she was busy with holding Grim's paw and one of her luggages. He didn't want to wait any longer as he grabbed her other luggage and imagined his home before going through the mirror.

---------

"Not gonna lie here, I'm nervous about meeting your grandma. I feel like I'll mess up and leave a bad image of me." Malleus somewhat understands her worry, his grandmother was the one who would give her blessing to their relationship and she was known as the fae with the highest standard.

"Do not worry, Natalie, my grandmother knows how dear you are to me." He tucked in a strand of her red hair behind her ear. He wanted to hold her face there and then but now was not the time. He placed her hand interwoven with his arm and signalled the guards to open the door.

"You didn't even tell me how I should address her!" She whispered hurriedly as two Royal Guards opened the door of the throne room with their magic. There were no usual guards inside the room. He assumed she wanted to meet his special friend privately. As they walked inside the room, the door was closed.

Malleus' grandmother was nowhere to be seen as they neared the Dragon Throne. Then suddenly, he felt a shift in the magic behind them, indicating that his grandmother had arrived. "Malleus, my dearest!" His grandmother opened his arms waiting for a hug. He didn't make her wait, he let go of Natalie and walked towards his grandmother, hugging her tightly.

"Good afternoon," He greeted her before turning towards Natalie, extending his hand toward her direction. "This is the one I talked about, Natalie Emilia Croft." He spoke proudly, the moment he had been waiting for had arrived.

However, something didn't go as he imagined. Natalie, the person who always had something to say was standing there like a statue, eyes wide and not moving. He could hear how fast her heart was beating and thought it must be the sheer excitement. "Natalie," She didn't give any reaction again so he took quick steps to near her. "Natalie," he tried once again, touching her shoulder and shaking delicately.

"Huh?" Natalie got out of her trance. "Oh..." She shook her head as if it would clear her thought. Then she giggled, putting her hand on his bicep lightly. A cute smile formed on her face as she looked up at him. "Malleus, you told me we would meet your grandmother," she then withdrew her hand and turned towards the other fae in the room, "You didn't tell me you had a sister!"

Malleus was confused, trying to understanding the situation. He could sense that his grandmother was as confused as him but she was the one that recovered first. "Sweet little human, your flattery will not work on me."

Natalie took a few steps towards his grandmother. "I was only telling what I see, a goddess on Earth-ah-Twisted Wonderland." Something was off with the way she spoke. Her voice tone and expressions were way different from the way she spoke with him. "I am so sorry. I was enthralled by your beauty that our introduction was cut short. I am Natalie Croft, a friend of Malleus from Night Raven Collage. Lovely to meet you!" Natalie extended her hand toward his grandmother for a handshake. He didn't even pay attention to what Natalie said about their relationship. All of his attention was focused on his grandmother, waiting for her reaction.

His grandmother didn't shake Natalie's hand. Instead, she lifted her eyebrow, scrutinizing her as if she was trying to decide if Natalie was lying. "I am Maleficent Draconia, the Queen of Valley of Thorns and Malleus' grandmother."

"I am sorry, I have no idea how I shall address you properly. Where I am from, we only used Queen Elizabeth or the Queen, I have never had a chance to speak directly! Oh boy, I'm speaking quickly but it's because I cannot contain my excitement to meet you." Maleficent was known as a strict person so he was worried that she would disapprove of Natalie now.

Luckily his worries were farse. Maleficent chuckled, "Is this how you charmed my grandson's heart, little human?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I'm 170 cm so I am not really little," Natalie let out a little laugh, "I wouldn't say I charmed his heart per se. He is my friend and I behaved the same way I behave towards my other friends. He and some other people mentioned that people are afraid of him but, to be honest, I've never seen Malleus do something that would make me fear him. Also..." Natalie was talking about him but he lost his focus the moment she said that he wasn't treated special. He could see the same confusion on his grandmother's face.

"Little girl!" Maleficent's voice boomed, he could feel her magic in the air. "Did you admit you treat the others the same way you treat my grandson?"

Natalie gulped, "Y-Yes..." 

"So you admit you cheated on the person you are courting?" If things accelerated, he would step in between them. However, a part of him wondered the same question.

"Courting?" Natalie was confused. "I have read medieval setting books, I know that word." In all honesty, Malleus was impressed that she could form a coherent sentence in front of an angry Maleficent. "There is a misunderstanding. I am not courting Malleus or anyone. We are simply friends."

His grandmother calmed down as he heard Natalie sighing in relief. "Well then, we will converse again but first, Malleus," Maleficent looked at him, "Escort Natalie somewhere where you can have a private conversation. There is something you have to resolve." She apparated on her throne.

Malleus nodded, walked to Natalie's side, offered his hand. She held his hand once again and he ignored the sparks he was feeling this time. He apparated them to his rose garden before they sat on the bench. "Natalie," he started, "What did you mean back in the throne room?"

"Can you answer my question first?" She asked in the most sincere voice he had ever heard. He nodded in agreement. "Did you... tell your grandma that we are dating, I mean courting?"

"I could not contain my happiness and she loves to hear the changes in my life. I did write her letters mentioning all the activities we did for our courtship, you inviting me to places where only two of us are, us taking nightly strolls, you hugging me and kissing me."

"I- I only kissed your cheek as a thank you!" She answered apprehensively. Then took a deep breath. "You and I from different worlds and cultures that caused a misunderstanding to happen between us." She wasn't making any sense. Lilia told him all of them meant they were courting. "Everything we did together, me hugging you and giving you a kiss to a cheek are all friendly gestures. I-" She gulped, lowering her eyes momentarily before taking his hands into hers and making eye contact. "I don't see you that way."

"What way is that?" Words left his mouth before he could stop himself.

"I don't have any romantic feelings for you. I only see you as a friend." Natalie said only two sentences but it felt like she tore his heart from his chest and stabbed it. "You have been nothing but kind to me. You are the only person who was not mean to me ever. You have no idea how much that means to me."

If I mean so much to you, then why do you not want to be with me? Mean thought plagued his mind.

"You are one of the closest friends I have ever and I appreciate it truly." 

You do not seem to appreciate me as you break my heart.

"But I have never ever seen or thought of you anything more than a close friend." 

Malleus looked at her face to see if she was joking. As much as he wanted this to be a cruel joke, he saw that she was serious. But he wanted to try one last time. "Is there a chance of you to change your mind?"

She bit her lips, before plastering a smile on her face. "I cannot command how my heart feels, Malleus. I am sure you can understand that."

I understand it very well, Child of Man. A part of him was angry that she rejected him while the other part of him was upset that he assumed how she felt about him and their relationship were completely wrong. He wished he could tell his heart to stop loving her as more than friends and to seize aching but even with all the magic he had, it was impossible. He just needed some time alone to process all of these.

"You are free to explore the palace." Malleus had said as he retreated his hands from Natalie and stood up. Anyone would understand that he was upset as a lightning storm started over the palace even though he had stoic expression. "I have a matter to take care of, until then Croft." He bid her farewell before apparating to the mountains of Valley of Thorns.

[devnicolee]

The Chosen Ones (8)

A/N: Enjoy! If you read chapter 7 like shortly after it was posted, the council scene was originally in Chapter 7 but I moved it here because that chapter was too long. So you may have already it read the first section.

This is the last chapter - I am really sad to end this series :( but I might do an epilogue or something if anyone is interested. I have been writing this for literally a year so thanks to everyone who liked and commented and read a chapter here or there. I appreciate it! 

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 6,000 words

Pairings: M’Baku x OC

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Asha fidgeted nervously, sharing anxious glances with M'Baku as they waited with bated breath for her brother to enter the council meeting. They arrived back in the Golden City with mere minutes to spare before the meeting, two herbs in her pocket and a video of the garden. Shuri chastised them for giving her an ulcer during their long absence. However, she couldn’t hide the deep sigh of relief as the pair rushed through the tall gold trimmed throne room doors with triumph and hope in their eyes. 

Asha scanned the council circle, passing by M’Baku’s reassuring eyes, to connect eyes with Elder Shani. Far from her usual contempt, her eyes were filled loathing and disgust. Instinctively, Asha felt herself starting to wilt like a dying flower. But something in her pushed back, forcing her to sit up straighter and send a pointed, cold glare back at the woman. Never again would someone else’s disdain silence her or force her to cower.

Their staring match only ended when the double doors entered. They all rose from their seats, saluting T’Challa as he walked to his seat, as cool and calm as ever. They did not have to wait long before he started speaking, getting right to the point of this meeting.

"I have called this meeting because much has changed in the last 36 hours, many things revealed about the Panther Tribe. Many have questioned my fitness to be king in light of these revelations. A lesser man would sit here and defend these lies but I cannot. They were an error in judgement, an error that was not my decision to start but could have,” he sighed, “Should have been mine to end once I became King. I did not. And for that, I am sorry. A king that cannot admit his failures is no king at all, only a tyrant. I know Elder Shani has lobbied many of you, encouraged you to demand a new challen-“ 

Elder Shani jumped up from her seat, her disrespect toward the throne on display as she cut the King short. "That is right! He is not fit to be King! Not while you and your family hid this abomination.” Her finger wagged in Asha's direction, forcing all eyes toward the young woman. She sat up a bit straighter, noting the looks of fear from some, the admiration from others. 

"You expressed no qualms with our secrets when you were blackmailing my sister into an engagement with your abusive son, when it suited your needs. I have forcibly removed you from this throne room once, do not make me do it again. Sit down," T'Challa threatened, his voice low and menacing. 

The elders of the Mining and Border Tribes shared a concerned look. They had taken the time to listen to Shani's pleads, and agreed with her in many ways. But they were quickly realizing the error in taking her words as the only truth. 

"Now. I could plead my case, preach to you all about why I am fit to wear the crown of King and hold the mantle of the Black Panther. However, this conversation is not about me or my fitness. It is about our country's distrust and hatred toward the more powerful... the chosen among us... the Wakandan like my sister." He offered Asha a small smile before continuing, "Prior to today, Wakandan's future was in a precarious state. Prior to today, the mantle of Black Panther was to die with me. And if we went through with today’s challenge, the centuries-old legacy would die today. That is just one of many reasons why Elder Shani’s desires are so short sighted. However, Bast... and Hanuman, it seems, have other plans. Asha, a powerful and chosen member of this family, and Lord M'Baku, have breathed new life into our dying future."

"What do you mean?" Elder M’Kathu inquired, leaning forward with interest. 

"I shall allow my sister to show you." T'Challa nodded at Asha, giving her the cue to pull the bright purple herbs from the pouch in her lap. They attracted everyone's eyes, captivating everyone with their glistening light. 

The throne room filled with exclamations of shock, joy and excitement. 

"How is this possible?" He asked in amazement. "N’Jadaka burned all the herbs." 

"He burned all the herbs we knew of, yes. But there is another garden hidden on the edge of Jabariland. Bast led Lord M'Baku and I there. There are enough herbs on the top of that mountain to sustain the Black Panther for hundreds of years," Asha explained. 

"Without my sister, without this gift Bast bestowed upon her, we... this country would have been lost. Without the Jabari so many of you despise, we would have been lost. Bast led the first Warrior Shaman to the herb years ago to save us from tearing ourselves apart. Today, she led Asha and a Jabari there to do the same. Together, two people, who represent what so many fear, opened a door that our failures shut forever.” 

He stood up, pacing behind his chair as he spoke. 

“That is bigger than me, it is bigger than Elder Shani, and it is bigger than our ignorance. Her campaign against me is rooted in hatred, hatred for a people who just saved our country. I ask you to vote against a new challenge, not because it suits me, but because we have the opportunity to build a new Wakanda. A Wakanda built on love and mutual respect for all of Bast's and Hanuman's people, not on the unstable foundation of distrust and prejudice.” He paused. “Now Elder Shani, I believe you have a proposal to raise for our vote. I await you all’s judgement and decision.” 

Her brother’s passionate monologue was met with silence, silence as Asha watched each person introspectively think about the future they wanted, the Wakanda they wanted. 

Elder Shani stood up once more, clearly unmoved by this new discovery or her brother’s passionate speech unlike everyone else in the room. It seemed she was committed to dying on this hill and was more than willing to do so alone. “This boy speaks of a new Wakanda, a new order. Wakanda prospered for hundreds of years before King T’Challa and it will do so after him. He does not think the way we do, he does not respect our traditions and so, he should not be King. I raise the motion to invoke a new Challenge Day, so we may have a King that will respect our traditions.” 

“The motion is on the floor. Elder Shani, how do you vote?” Asha’s heart raced, praying that her faith in Elder M’Kathu and Elder Olabisi was not misplaced, that her brother’s words had swayed them to choose progress over hate. Asha felt Shuri’s hand grab hers and squeeze it tightly as they listened. 

“Yay.” 

“Lord M’Baku?” 

“Nay.” Unlike his girlfriend, who was clearly filled with nervous energy, M’Baku seemed annoyed and bored with this whole spectacle, simply ready for this to be over so they could officially move on with their lives. 

“Elder Kwame?” 

“Nay.” Nakia’s stoic and quiet father responded swiftly with a nod to his daughter who sat beside the Queen Mother. Asha’s already racing heart seemed to beat even harder as they reached the two undecided Elders, the two that had the potential to change the fate of her family forever. 

“Elder M’Kathu?”

A beat. 

“Nay.” 

Despite wanting to jump up and praise Bast, Asha maintained her composure, they all did. T’Challa offered the older man a head nod as a silent thank you for his support before finishing the roll out of obligation. For good measure, Elder Olabisi also voted against the motion, effectively leaving Elder Shani on an island alone. 

“Thank you, thank you all. I believe together we can build a stronger Wakanda. Thank you for believing in that future as well. This meeting is now adjourned and I will see everyone at the King’s Exhibition.” 

The room stood and saluted him, all except Elder Shani and her son who swept from the room as soon as the final word left T’Challa’s mouth. 

At the official end of the meeting, Asha immediately walked to her brother and wrapped him in a tight hug. 

“I am so glad I didn’t ruin everything,” she whispered in his ear, finally letting out that sigh of relief she had been holding in. She felt as if that weight finally evaporated from her shoulders. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you,” he emphasized, pulling back to look at her. “You could never ruin us, Asha. You are the best of us. You saved us  and for that, I could never thank you enough. You both,” he motioned for Shuri to join their group hug, “are the best sisters I could ask for.”  

Asha broke apart from her siblings, giving space for others to congratulate her brother, and walked toward M’Baku. He stood, in the now-repaired window she destroyed, staring down into the heart of the Golden City, which was bustling with activity and life as everyone prepared for the coming festival. 

She stood beside him, looking out at her home with something other than envy and heartache for the first time. Hope. They stood in silence for a bit, the chatter of Asha's family fading away as they slid back into their own small world. 

"Thank you, M'Baku. T-this would not have been possible without you, without the Jabari. Thank Bast you decided to concern yourself with the drama of us lowlanders," she teased.

He chuckled, his brain conjuring that moment on the fields of the Great Mound, deciding to play along with her game. He remembered exactly how that conversation went… he would never forget it. "Well, it seems you all continue to need us to save you." 

She turned briefly and smiled at his profile, leaning against the window. "Yes... it seems we do. Wakanda is forever in your debt. Perhaps she will find a way to repay you one day." She added, stealing his line.  

A tug at her arm brought her close to him, the space between them evaporating. He cupped her face, uninhibited love and adoration passing between them. Her signature sparks immediately encircling the couple as he stared down at her, the love of his life, the woman he felt Hanuman destined for him to be with until the end of his days. 

“She led me to you and now I am forever in her debt,” he whispered as his lips captured hers, the audience of her family mere feet away from them mattered little. The two kissed deeply for a few moments before a wolf whistle caused them to break away. 

Asha laughed as she looked over and saw her entire family, minus her mother, staring at the couple with shocked and excited grins. Shuri continued to cheer loudly before her brother pinched her and ushered her out of the throne room. He winked at her before allowing the doors to slam shut and giving them some much-needed privacy. 

“Come to Jabariland.” 

“What?” 

“Later this week. I-I need to head back tonight and you should spend time with your siblings. But come to Jabariland for a few days, spend some time together where you aren’t almost dying and I am not having to save that brother of yours.” 

Asha mulled it over in her head. Though she figured her brother would be slightly annoyed at her absence from some of the festival events, she yearned for the private and uninterrupted time with M’Baku. She had not truly rested in the last 4 days, had not taken a real breath. There, they could finally do that together. 

“I would love to.” 

****

“Nakia!” Asha smiled as she threw some more clothes in a bag and beckoned her friend into her bedroom. She eyed Nakia and the medium-sized gift bag in her hand suspiciously as one of her closest friends sat down on her king-sized bed. 

“What is that?” Asha asked, gesturing toward the bag as she pulled a dress off the hanger. 

Nakia smiled slyly, “We will get to that in a second. First, I just wanted to see how you were doing. The last few days… weeks, years frankly, have been tough for you.” 

Asha smiled and reached across the bed to squeeze her future queen’s hand. Nakia was the big sister she didn’t have but always hoped for. And she knew she would be the perfect queen for them all.

“I am good, Nakia. Fantastic, actually. I got what I wanted, T’Challa’s position and title are safe. Everything is good now.” 

Nakia nodded but Asha could see the speculation in her eyes, the look that called her positive attitude into question. 

“Yes. All of that is true. But look at what it took to get there? Your father died, you watched your brother get murdered, you endured verbal abuse from all sides, you almost died… twice, according to M’Baku. I’ve seen enough of this world to know a happy ending doesn’t mean the road to them wasn’t paved with trauma and pain. It’s just… I’ve seen what happens when people don’t address what it took to get them what they wanted, what it cost them. I don’t want that for you, nor does your brother. Just, if you ever want to talk, let me know?” 

Asha bowed her head, she didn’t like to think Nakia was right. What mattered most, in her mind, was the fact that they were ok now. But she could not ignore all the tragedies littered throughout her life, the scars they left. She couldn’t pretend like those wounds of her chains healed just because she escaped them. 

“You will be my first call, I promise.” Asha came around to sit on the bed next to her. “Thank you for being here for me.” 

Nakia smiled and squeezed her hand. She pushed the bag toward the young girl. “Always. Now onto the fun part of my visit. This is for you.”

Asha grinned brightly as she excitedly tore the tissue paper out of the bag and pulled out several pieces of lingerie, her grin fading slightly with shock.

“Nakia,” she whined. “What is all this??” 

“It is for your trip. Essential wear.” 

“’Essential wear??’ N-Nakia, I d-don’t think we are going to get there yet.” She let the skimpy Burgundy lace fall back into the bag, laughing lightly. 

“Maybe you won’t, but maybe you will. Look, I see the way Lord M’Baku looks at you - he is ready to rip those clothes off your body every time you’re in the same room. He wants to show you the might of the Jabari, FIRST HAND!” Both girls laughed at her callback to M’Baku’s epic entrance at the battle on the Great Mound. “And if that is what you want, you should.” 

“I am sure my brother does not know about this part of your visit,” Asha mused. 

“No, he doesn’t,” Nakia admitted. “Because it isn’t his business, or mine, to be frank. I just wanted you to be prepared if you decide to travel down that road. Essential wear for the journey.”

She threw Asha a wink before leaving her to mull over her thoughts. Asha didn’t understand her own hesitation. Perhaps she was just overthinking it. The cave… it was spur of the moment, natural, intimate and unexpected. All their best moments were just that… unexpected. They produced magic when she didn’t have time to analyze or second guess, when she just lived in the moment with him. And here she was overanaylzing and second guessing. Her fingers fiddled with the edge of the gift bag as she thought. Nakia was right; M’Baku wanted her and she wanted him, desperately so. She pulled each piece of lingerie out, eyeing each one with speculation. They left little to the imagination but they were gorgeous. She slipped both into her suitcase. 

Just in case. 

****

“Try not to destroy the palace while I’m gone eh?” She implored as she gave Shuri a hug outside. 

Shuri, who looked like someone had just stolen her pet panther, nodded sadly. “You’ll call me tomorrow right? Make sure they haven’t turned you into an anti-vibranium fanatic?” 

Asha laughed, “Yes I will call you tomorrow, I promise. Don’t look so glum, I will be back in a few days.” 

“I know, it is just hard to say bye to you. I am usually begging for this one to get out of here.” Asha laughed as T’Challa clutched his imaginary pearls in faux offense. “But you are the constant of our triangle. It’s not the same without you.”  

Asha’s nose wrinkled, shocked to see her sister so despondent about her leaving. She glanced at T’Challa, whose face was also a bit crestfallen but he did a better job of hiding it. 

“Come on guys! I’m gonna be gone for a few days, a week tops. I have to come back… all my clothes are here,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. Her joke only earned her small chuckles much to her dismay. 

“Would you want it to be permanent, though?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Would you want to live in Jabariland? With M’Baku?” T’Challa asked, already knowing the answer even if she didn’t yet. 

“I hadn’t thought about it honestly. Maybe, one day.” Under her siblings’ knowing stares, she amended her statement. “But M’Baku and I are trying to go slow, take our time. We have been dating for two days, I doubt he is redecorating the Lodge for me yet.”

T’Challa and Shuri shared a knowing glance that didn’t go unnoticed before ushering her toward the plane, a sudden 180 turn from their original despondent looks. “What was that look for?” 

T’Challa smiled, “Nothing. We just think you are underestimating the speed of the Jabari. Have fun sister. Try not to burn Jabariland down while you are there,” he winked. 

“Too soon, brother… too soon,” she chuckled before waving them goodbye as the Talon ramp closed and the plane sped off. 

****

“M’Baku! It was foolish to think you could redecorate your quarters in three days,” N’Danna reminded him as the man rearranged furniture and put new things he got at the market out. “I thought she had been here once, I am sure she likes it just fine.” 

M’Baku scoffed, “I do not want her to like it. I want her to want to live in it. I spoke to T’Challa to learn a bit more about her, things she liked. I picked up a few things from being in her office but he gave me some other ideas. I commissioned two new paintings from her favorite artist but those won’t be here until her next visit, Olabisi was able to make her flowers again,” he pointed to the red-orange tipped roses on the bedside table, “I put them on this side of the bed because… well, does liking sunsets mean you also like the sunrise? I have only slept with her twice so who knows if she is a morning person. Oh but T’Challa said she really doesn’t need much sleep so… Oh look at these… I just got them carved.” 

He rushed to the bag by the door and pulled out a box that contained wooden panthers and rhinos. He laid them on the coffee table in his lounge area, excitedly looking from them to N’Danna like a child showing off a new toy. 

“You have been inside the mind of a woman, you think she will like them?” 

“Relax brother. She will love all of it, they are… cute.” 

M’Baku nodded, taking some of his older carvings down and sliding the animals into their place, putting one by her side of his bed. Just as he was examining the room, looking for another thing to move or switch out to expel his nervous energy, Kide popped his head in. 

“The Talon is approaching, my Lord. About 5 minutes out.” 

M’Baku nodded, rubbing his hands together nervously. He nodded at N’Danna to walk with him toward the landing outside the Lodge. 

“Oh N’Danna, I need one more favor.” 

N’Danna rolled his eyes before they bugged out of his head, his chief’s passing thoughts cueing him into the favor before the words left his mouth. “A-are you serious? M’Baku? So soon?” 

M’Baku sighed, it didn’t feel too soon to him. “I have known since the moment I first spoke to her. I do not need to see anything else. I-I do not need anymore time. And I don’t think she does either.” 

N’Danna stood and pulled the man into an embrace. “Congrats. I will get everything squared away for you. Don’t worry about a thing. Just spend time with your girl.” 

The two men shook hands before N’Danna took off in the opposite direction and M’Baku headed to greet Asha. 

This time when Asha stepped off the plane and into the fresh snow of Jabariland, it felt totally different. She was still nervous but not in the anxiety sort of way. It was nervous excitement filling her belly. She didn’t have to wait long before M’Baku rushed forward and swept her into a tight hug.  

“I have missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” she whispered, kissing his lips.  

Their hands joined, her fear of burning him long gone and almost forgotten. She felt sort of out of place as she walked, soldiers saluting her and M’Baku as they strolled through the Lodge. 

“I hope you do not mind but I was hoping you would stay in my quarters this trip. But I had your room from your last visit set up for you, should that make you more comfortable.” 

Asha smiled, appreciative of the sweet but unnecessary gesture. Where ever he was, that’s where she wanted to be. 

“Your quarters are perfect, thank you.” 

And thus started, what Asha could only describe as three magical days with the love of her life. M’Baku spent half of the day working, during which a guard would take Asha down to the market. She spent most of her time chatting with Olabisi, who told her thrilling tales of the Jabari and The Chosen, stories Asha imagined she would have read in that book, had she ever gotten past the first page. She explained all the different powers the Chosen in the tribe had now: flight, chlorokinesis, elemental control like Asha, mind reading, telepathy, invisibility… they were as diverse as they were powerful. She offered book recommendations for Asha, which she immediately went and found in the Lodge’s library. 

After, she just roamed the market, under the watchful eye of one of M’Baku’s guards. She stopped at every merchant asking them every question she could think of about their work and life in Jabariland. She sat and watched the wood makers carve Jabari wood and knobkerries. Every day she met someone new, learned something new, and basked in the beauty of Wakanda’s most plentiful resource: her people. This is what she knew she was missing her whole life. This was her freedom, to be among her people. No one was afraid of her here, no one cared about her powers. She watched all day as Chosen used their powers to help get things done faster and more efficiently, assistance that was not only accepted but appreciated. Asha thought back to her conversation with her brother, about potentially living here permanently. And she knew, in her heart, she could… that she wanted to. Jabariland was starting to feel more like home than the Golden City ever had. 

After leaving the market and shops, she would meet M’Baku for a late lunch and then he would take her to his favorite spots around the Lodge and mountains. They would hike each evening, catching the sunset at a spot, Asha giddy like a child at every single one. Her third night, he even had a picnic set up waiting for her at the end of their hike. 

“How was the market today?” M’Baku asked as they walked back to his bedroom after returning from their hike. 

“Amazing as always. I met this man, he said he has been carving Jabari wood since he was 10. He made the cutest rhino figurine for me - I am going to give it to Okoye. He was so nice and just told me about all the different things he carves and all the Jabari symbols, what they mean. Oh I met the Chief Fisherman and his husband at their shop. They were so sweet, told me all about their daughter who, apparently, wants to be an engineer like Shuri. I will have to tell her, maybe on my next visit she can come and meet her? Do you think she would like that? I think Shuri would be really excited.” 

M’Baku smiled brightly, listening to her go on and on about the Jabari, all stories he already knew as Chief but there was something about hearing her say it. The excitement and passion for the people she was meeting… she sounded like she born for the title of Queen of Jabariland.

“What? Am I rambling? I am rambling, aren’t I?” She asked as she noted the look on his face. 

“No, no not at all. I just like seeing you like this. So excited about the people here.” 

“Well, the Jabari are the first Wakandans I have had a conversation for longer than five minutes with. To be among the people, learn their names and their stories? There is nothing better. I didn’t realize how much I was missing, how much joy it brings. Thank you,” she stretched her body and kissed him gently on his lips. 

In lieu of responding, he just wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in deeper for a long, passionate kiss. After a few moments, they broke apart, Asha muttering that she wanted to take a shower after such a journey. The hikes still didn’t seem to bother M’Baku, but Asha always felt like she had endured a rigorous workout afterward.

M’Baku shook his head slightly. He understood and respected her desire to go slow. But that wasn’t making it any easier. He wanted her so badly it hurt. But he wanted her to be ready. 

After her shower, Asha stood in his mirror, giving herself a pep talk as she examined the dark red lace lingerie on her slender frame in the mirror. Though there was always something she could find wrong, aside from the blemishes she could not get rid of in 5 minutes, even she could admit that she looked good… sexy even. She whispered confident words to herself before opening the bathroom door. His back was to her as he stood, looking out his window. Her walk faltered for a minute, her confidence fading fast as she realized she would have to actually get his attention. 

He wants you. You want him. You can do this.

“M’Baku,” she whispered. He turned around slightly at the sound of his name, doing a double take as he realized what exactly covered her beautiful frame. 

“Usana,” he breathed quietly as she had literally stolen his breath and ability to speak. He had never been rendered speechless by a woman before, usually he had that effect on them. But here his goddess stood, more beautiful than anything he had seen on this Earth. His eyes studied the smooth brown skin peeking through the triangle cut outs of her bra and panty set, studied her so closely as if he had to commit her to memory.  

“You like it, my love?” She teased, his inability to form words fueling her confidence as she walked toward him, her fingers trailing up his biceps once she was in arm’s length of him. 

“Who wouldn’t? You are a vision, sithandwa sam” He whispered back before gently grabbing the back of her thighs and hoisting her up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his midsection as he carried her to his bed. She quickly found herself laying on her back among the mountain of soft white furs covering his bed. He stared down at her for a moment, soaking in her beauty. This is how he always wanted to see her… wild and unreserved. 

He leaned over and kissed her deeply before creating a path of kisses down her body. Her body and mind knew his end destination, her quiet squirms begged him to make the journey there faster. But he didn’t care, he wanted to take his time… watch her come undone piece by piece. His mouth explored her soft, supple skin, kissing or gently biting every available and exposed inch. Soft moans escaped her lips, a sensual symphony to his ears. 

“M’Baku, please,” she begged as he placed soft kisses everywhere but where she needed it most. Asha’s eyes clenched shut in anticipation and her hands gripped the furs on his bed as his lips finally reached the promise land of her sensitive bud. Her back arched slightly as he sucked on her clit, sending shockwaves through her body. His thick finger entered her, curling immediately into her g-spot, increasing her pleasure tenfold. 

“Fuck… M’B-Baku… don’t stop, please,” she begged. Unnecessary words because stopping was the furthest thing from his mind. He was doing Hanuman’s work, pouring all the love and adoration she missed out on in her life into her, showing her what it meant to be worshipped and adored as she deserved. He had no intention of stopping that important work. Hell, he could do this all night. 

Asha’s eyes clenched shut as she rode the waves of passion and pure ecstasy his mouth and hands were providing. His eyes never left her face as he devoured what was now his favorite meal, each moan, groan, and plead for mercy or more spurring him on. Her thighs clamped around his head as he pushed her farther up the mountain of desire. He inserted a second finger in her as she grew louder, signaling that her orgasm was near. 

It didn’t take long of his expert ministrations for Asha to feel that snap that led to the most life-altering orgasm of her life, years of self-pleasure paled in comparison. She let out a continuous stream of praise and curse words as she road the waves of bliss. 

“That’s it, come for me my queen. Hanuman, you are beautiful.” 

He emerged from between her legs, immediately kissing her deeply. The smell of smoke caught both of their attention at the same time, pulling them out of their own little world of pleasure and passion to find smoke rising from the comforter. A large black patch of burnt fur now staining his white fur blanket. Asha quickly removed the smoke from the air before hitting herself in the forehead, embarrassment and frustration quickly sliding onto her face. 

“I am so sorry, M’Baku! Ugh, I h-have never done this, especially without the rings. I-I didn’t know that would-“ He captured her lips to shut her up, laughing lightly. 

“It is just a blanket, my love. I have five more just like it in the closet. And if we burn all of those, I can get fifty more made. Take a deep breath. I do not care about that.”

She nodded, laughing lightly before recapturing his lips. There he was again, pulling her back from the cliffs just as she was about to tumble down with such ease and care. Her anxieties and frustrations melted away as he kissed her, her hands drifting down toward his pants, preparing to pull them down.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to do this.” 

His breathy whispers in her ear made her want him even more, despite the content of his words. 

“I want you. I want this.” She offered him an encouraging smile before he stood up and pulled his pants and boxers off. Her voice hitched and eyes widened as she took him in. He was more than she could have ever imagined… in every way. The bed dipped as he climbed back on top of her. Every second felt like cruel and unusual punishment as she waited, every pleasure sensor in her body begging and pleading to be catered to. 

She gasped as he pushed into her, her body wholly unaccustomed to being stretched this much before. It was painful, as she expected, but she could already feel the pleasure brewing underneath… the pleasure that made getting passed this uncomfortable part worth it. He kissed her softly and whispered sweet nothings into her ears as he slowly slid into her. She was thankful he was a thoughtful and gentle lover, her mind briefing thinking about the bullet she dodged with Hasani, who wouldn’t have cared how painful the experience was for her. 

It didn’t take long for the pain to quickly fade into earth shattering, mind-blowing pleasure as M’Baku started his slow and steady strokes into her. His dick curved right into her g-spot, forcing moans and words of love and adoration at the end of every stroke.

“How does it feel, my queen?” 

“F-fuck, M’Baku,” she panted as he rocked into her, slowing picking up the pace as her moans grew louder and her orgasm approached. “Feels… so.. g-good. D-don’t stop.” 

M’Baku’s never-ending stamina meant that stopping wasn’t in the cards for him anytime soon. Through orgasm after orgasm, the couple spent the evening completely enthralled in passionate love-making. His quarters soaked up the screams and moans of the princess of Wakanda as they transitioned between positions and he took her to places she never knew possible. She lost track of the orgasms he pulled from the depths of her soul throughout the night. She was completely spent by the time M’Baku came and rolled off her. 

She shifted to her side lazily to watch him walk to the bathroom, eyes half closed. “How are you not exhausted?” 

“The might of the Jabari,” he called from the bathroom. When he returned, he sat down next to her and cleaned her up with a warm wet towel before climbing into bed. She shifted to lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as they fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

***

“My princess?” 

Asha looked up from her spot curled up in an oversized arm chair in the library to find Kide looking at her. After last night, she didn’t really have the energy to walk around the market today and M’Baku had a long day of meeting so she opted to stay in the library and snuggle up by the window to read. 

“Asha will do just fine,” she reminded the young guard as she slide her bookmark in place. 

“Asha, Lord M’Baku has asked that I escort you to your spot on the west mountains. He will meet you there. The carriage is waiting outside.” 

Asha’s nose wrinkled at the break in their tradition of hiking to the various spots together but she let go of it rather quickly. She imagined that the only reason he would break their tradition was for some sort of surprise. And while she had no earthly idea what it could be, she certainly didn’t want to ruin it by messing up his plans. 

She followed Kide outside, one foot in the carriage before an idea struck her. 

“Kide?” 

“Yes?” 

“C-could we maybe get there a different way?” 

Kide’s eyes widened before a smile graced his face. “Are you sure?” 

“Well, the last time I tried it… I almost died? So I figure I could use the practice?” 

She wasn’t sure if her black jumpsuit, while insanely cute, was functional for flying. But she decided not to let that stop her. She looked up to find Kide already circling her head, waiting for her. 

I can do this. I can do this. She chanted before pushing off of the ground. She wobbled a bit before finding her balance and propelling herself higher into the sky next to him. The cold air whipped against her face as she flew behind Kide, slightly lower than him, around the mountains. She looked down and she could see everyone walking around below them, the occasionally hand pointed up or waving at them as they flew past. 

The higher they climbed up the side of the mountain, the more her eyes watered. However, she continued to push forward. She followed close behind Kide, circling the clearing she knew too well before diving behind him to land. The first thing she heard was applause when her feet touched the white snow. She turned to find M’Baku sitting on a rock, waiting for her, a bright smile on his face. 

“Thank you, Kide.” 

“Any time, my princess.” He turned and walked back to the guards waiting on the snow-covered road by the carriage. She turned her attention to M’Baku, noting the nervous look in his eyes, the way his hands fidgeted with his fur collar. 

He didn’t say anything as he approached her, holding out his hand. She immediately placed her small one into his. They stared out at the horizon, the sky starting to fill with the oranges and yellows of sunset. 

“Asha…” 

She quickly turned her attention back to him, facing him as their fingers interlocked. 

“I-I had this whole speech written out b-but seeing you here… I just… I am in love with you, Asha Udaka. My love for you has only grown stronger and deeper since the moment you walked into my throne room filled with grief and pain. And since then, I have witnessed you step into your power, into who you are and demand acceptance from the people who would deny you with the power and grace of a Queen. I don’t know what Hanuman has for my future but I know I want you in it… I need you in it. I don’t need anymore time to know you are the love of my life. We have proven that our love can melt away even the toughest of hardships, that this… w-what we share is unlike anything else in this world. And I know you will make a beautiful and compassionate Queen. And so…”

Asha expelled a shaky breath as M’Baku spoke. She had a feeling she knew where this was heading but she wouldn’t dare let herself believe it until he said the words. She watched as he pulled two wooden bands out of his pocket. The tears streaming down her face obscured her vision slightly but she knew exactly what those meant. Her mind called back to one of the many books she had read over the last few days, one detailing the engagement tradition of the Jabari. The dark brown wooden bracelet was the standard tribe engagement band, engraved with Jabari symbols that represented the future they would build together. But the gold one, reserved only for the tribe’s chieftess, carried a small inscription chosen by M’Baku. 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Y-yes, yes! 100 times yes,” she whispered immediately. She didn’t need to think about it, didn’t need more time. Her love for M’Baku… she knew nothing like it in this world. And here he was, offering her a future she thought she would never get to have. “I love you so much.” 

Her hand shook slightly as he slid the bracelets onto her arm and wrapped his arms around her. He peppered her face with soft kisses as she laughed, pure joy radiating off them. They only stopped when Asha heard cheering from around them. 

“What is th-“ she turned to find all the important people in her life emerging from the trees. Shuri was the first to rush toward her, running into her like a small train as she always did. Her crying intensified as she hugged her sister and looked at T’Challa, Nakia, Okoye and all the Dora behind her. 

Shuri released her and T’Challa wrapped her in a tight hug, wiping away the tears that streamed down her face. 

“D-did you all k-know about this?” 

“We may have had an idea or two. Congratulations, Asha. T-this is truly amazing.” 

Asha shared hugs with everyone as they offered her congratulations, before returning to M’Baku’s side. The guards brought out rum from the carriage for the group to toast, passing cups around for each person. 

Asha felt as though her heart was so full it may burst at the seams, her happiness almost overwhelming. 

“Lord M’Baku, if I may? A toast!” T’Challa called out, raising his glass. “To my younger sister, Asha and Lord M’Baku. I don’t know if I have ever met two people more destined for each other than you. We are so happy for you, you both deserve the world and I know you have that and more here. Congratulations and here is to many more sunsets together.” 

Asha’s smile could have lit up all of Jabariland as she listened to her brother. They toasted and drank rum as they watched the sun fall below the horizon together. Asha nestled herself into her fiancé’s side as she looked around at the people she loved and who loved her immensely. Bast was right, Asha’s life was overflowing with love and her future with hope. She couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it surrounded by M’Baku, T’Challa, Shuri, Nakia and Okoye… the people she loved most in this whole world. Their journey had been long and rugged, but every step brought her to this summit. And it was worth it. 

****

Tag List: @destinio1 @muse-of-mbaku @jellybean531 @skysynclair19 @ashanti-notthesinger @gloriousgam3r @archivistofwakanda @leahnicole1219 @mygirlrenee @dramaqueeenamby

[ravnicaforgoblins]

Ravnica for Goblins

Exciting Planeswalker Visitors

(Caution: Before we begin, this post is going to be much more opinion-based than previous ones. These are my own homebrew ideas, use them as/if you wish, discard/dismiss them if you prefer.)

Planeswalkers are an integral part of MTG Lore, as well as several of its most iconic characters. Put simply, a Planeswalker is an individual with an inherent gift for traveling between planes, or worlds. The gift does not appear at birth, but is usually triggered by some manner of incredibly emotional (usually traumatizing) event. In addition, each Planeswalker displays a unique aptitude for a particular style of magic; be it plant growth, transformation, becoming transparent, illusions, invulnerability, summoning beasts, structural analysis, setting things on fire, etc. Whatever their specific brand of magic is, it’s usually on a higher level than an ordinary person can hope to achieve.

Planeswalkers, as a general rule, are wanderers by nature. They may have a home plane, or even an adopted home plane, but being able to traverse the multiverse leads many towards lives of constant adventuring/shenanigans. Add in the fact that Planeswalkers cannot bring anyone else with them on these travels (except in very rare cases), and you end up with a special breed of super-powerful magical loner. They show up, make a name for themselves with their big magic, and depart when they feel like it. Did you say, “Instant Adventure”?

Ravnica has a few native Planeswalkers among its citizens; Ral Zarek, Vraska, and Domri Rade. In addition, it has several Planeswalkers who have at some point or another (depending on your timeline) devoted enough time & energy to be effectively considered citizens; Azor, Tezzeret, Kaya, Dack Fayden, Dovin Baan, Gideon Jura, and Jace Beleren. Some of these are currently dead, missing, or magically barred from ever returning. At one point, Ravnica had more Planeswalkers on it at one time than any plane in the multiverse has ever or will ever see. If you are going the War of the Spark direction, good luck. You'll need it and so will your players. For everyone else, which Planeswalkers you choose to include in your campaign (if any), should be based on who will work the best for the story you’re trying to tell. A recommendation; if you find their lore too distracting and complicated, stick to the main beats. A lot of these figures can be boiled down to simple ideas, and you don’t want to bore your party with the entire novel of these usually dramatic/tragic lives. Trust me, the base concepts are enough.

With that in mind, here are four Planeswalkers that I, a random person on the internet, believe would work great for a Ravnica campaign. My choices are not based on who has canonically already spent time in Ravnica, or who would be the most powerful/dangerous to suddenly appear in the city. Several Planeswalkers have their own prior commitments on other planes that are pretty central to their character, and BAMFing them to Ravnica for a quick Bad Guy to take down wouldn’t do them justice. These four characters would slide into various aspects of Ravnica beautifully. These four would be the most exciting visitors to Ravnica.

Ashiok, Dream Render

I don’t think any MTG character could be as good a fit for a Ravnican Guild as Ashiok is for House Dimir. Ashiok is almost literally a walking shadow of secrets and intrigue. Their origins, their age, their motives, their face; hell, their gender is a secret yet unrevealed. Ashiok’s power is creating living beings born of the greatest fears stolen from people’s nightmares. Literally.

It’s like if the Dimir stopped half-assing the art of stealing thoughts and turned it into a weapon of mass destruction. Because even the mightiest of Ravnicans are afraid of things. Ask Niv-Mizzet about the Nephilim sometime, see how quickly he changes the subject. What’s better, for a Guild that prides itself on always having the up & up on everyone, Ashiok is inscrutable. They have no past that can be divined, no secrets that can be stolen, no previous encounters to prepare any for their arrival. Neither Lazav nor Etrata can claim such anonymity, despite their best efforts. Ashiok is a true enigma and a dangerous new weapon for House Dimir.

Ashiok also comes with the ability to create minions and NPCs from out of any PC’s worst nightmares, making encounters a great combination of roleplaying & combat. Fighting them is specifically facing one’s deepest & darkest fears made real. Can you say, “character development”?

Ashiok’s arrival could spread this new magical art to other Dimir Agents for a longer campaign, but it might be best to confine it to Ashiok in order to allow for a cleaner victory. Ashiok is not a fighter, cornering them into a direct confrontation should be enough to make the Nightmare Sculptor run for the hills. The mind is powerful, but also very squishy.

Tibalt, the Fiend-Blooded

You know how the Cult of Rakdos are technically Chaotic Evil but generally just a bunch of artsy hedonistic nuisances? Tibalt is to them what a gallon of gasoline would be to a lit stove. Good for fire, bad for everything else. Tibalt is an empath specializing in Pain Magic. Quite literally, he loves hurting people for fun. Drawn to pain like a magnet; physical, emotional, spiritual, psychological, etc, he is sadism personified.

His brief time on Ravnica during War of the Spark was enough to make a strong impression on the Rakdos.

“I like this one’s energy.”

This is because they do not realize how bad Tibalt would be for the Cult. There is a fundamental difference between the Chaotic Evil the Cult practices and the Chaotic Evil Tibalt delights in. The Rakdos have survived 10,000 years by taking in the freaks, the rejects, and the crazies, and giving them a place where they can live out their most depraved hedonistic fantasies. They are the voice of the outsiders bringing all figures of power & authority down a peg. They always punch up, never down. Tibalt is a young man with no home, no friends, no job, and no interests or hobbies beyond inflicting pain in as many people as possible. Tibalt punches everyone. The most important distinction between the two is that the Cult of Rakdos is a culture, a way of life for people to embrace; it might be crazy, but it welcomes & accepts people no matter how insane the world says they are. Tibalt does not care about anyone but himself. Following his example would see the city turned into the largest, bloodiest, and most destructive riot in its history; with Tibalt inciting and sicking every monstrosity he can find onto the city at once. He will burn the Rakdos candle at both ends and leave them to suffer the consequences of his fun. The aftermath being the city in ruins, the Cult wiped from the face of existence, and him moving on to his next project. In short, Tibalt will hurt the Cult of Rakdos as much, if not more, than the rest of Ravnica. Because that’s how he gets his kicks.

The one thing standing in his way will be Rakdos himself. As the single largest diva on the entire plane, Rakdos does not tolerate anyone who tries to steal his spotlight. As a 10,000+ year-old Demon Lord, Rakdos is in a league of his own, and Tibalt is just a hotshit little pain mage with a few tricks. It’s not a fight, it’s either an exit or a curtain call for the Planeswalker. If Rakdos is around, Tibalt’s spree will be very short-lived. If, however, Rakdos is doing his usual thing of hibernating for weeks, months, or years at a time, that’s a different story. Tibalt is good for if your campaign wants to bypass politics & intrigue and go straight to killing Cultists & Demons. He’s bad for anyone he comes in contact with.

Garruk Wildspeaker

In case I haven’t made my contempt for Domri Rade clear, I hold Domri Rade in utter contempt. As a character, as a Planeswalker, and most of all as a Gruul, he’s a failure. Scrawny, weak, gullible, and stupid. My chief grievance with Domri is that he fell short in all the areas the Gruul Clans idolize. He couldn’t survive in the wilderness on his own without his Planeswalker abilities, he couldn’t fight for himself except against weaker opponents or with herds of animals as backup, and he acted on orders from someone else who wasn’t Gruul. For a Guild built on independence and survival of the fittest, he failed both completely.

Garruk is the real deal. Gigantic, strong, savage, and cunning. Here is a man who, on a fundamental level, has embraced animal savagery as a way of life. He lives like a predator on the hunt, an alpha of any pack, and a fierce threat to all who intrude upon his territory. On a plane like Ravnica, where civilization has encroached on the untamed wilds almost completely, Garruk would be a gamechanger. Not only could he feasibly fight Borborygmos for leadership of the Gruul, he could win, and he could unite the Gruul under his howl of reclaiming the wilds from so-called “civilization”. Garruk would bring animal strength to the Gruul in ways they’ve only begun to tap into, and he’d do it in their language. Because Garruk understands the Gruul, and they understand him. They have so much in common with each other that it’s hard to think of any Planeswalker who could be welcomed so readily into a Guild. They would become so much more than rock-smashers and anarchists, they would become Ravnica’s reminder that nature will survive when all traces of society have crumbled away.

As if taking on the city itself wasn’t big enough already, Garruk has also taken to hunting other Planeswalkers, and can actually track them across the Multiverse. Meaning a few high-ranking members of Guilds and even the Living Guildpact have to take his threat seriously. He’s got a particular grudge against necromancers, dislikes talking, and has a special gift with animals of all varieties. All of which provides plenty of ideas to build from. He’s an 8ft tall Human Druid/Barbarian who willingly chooses animal savagery over intellectual reasoning, can there be anyone more perfect for the Gruul?

Did I say Ashiok was the most perfect fit for an MTG character in a Ravnican Guild? Yeah, scratch that. Garruk is.

Sarkhan Vol

Most Planeswalkers have a theme to their abilities. For some, that theme extends to their personalities as well. And then there are Planeswalkers who can be adequately summed up in a single word. For Sarkhan, that word would be “dragons”. Sarkhan sees dragons as nature’s purest & most destructive form, and carries a fascination with them that is perfectly healthy for anything with wings and scales that breathes fire, but generally less healthy for everything & everyone else.

One of the things that makes Ravnica unique is the distinct lack of dragons (emphasis on the plural). Ravnica has a dragon, Niv-Mizzet the Firemind, who made the executive decision thousands of years ago that he alone was sufficient to represent his entire species. Ravnican dragons are considered more intelligent than dragons on other planes, Niv himself being a prime example of this. Around the original signing of the Guildpact, Ravnica’s Godlike dragons were hunted to extinction, with Niv leading the hunt against his own kind. They were not entirely successful in this endeavor, but what few dragons do remain in the present day survive by staying as far off Niv’s radar as possible. Some dragons live by carrying out Niv’s will under constant supervision, or by hunting in the untamed wilds outside the city, or as sideshow attractions for the Rakdos (usually with their wings cut off to prevent escape). They are effectively stripped of anything that would identify them as “dragons” for the sake of their own existence. Since dragons are such a notoriously touchy subject for the Firemind, few have the nerve or fire immunity necessary to speak out against it.

Sarkhan would be horrified. If he thought the extinction of dragons on his home plane of Tarkir was bad, seeing them living like this would infuriate him beyond words. What would Sarkhan do once the initial shock of seeing his spirit animal (in more ways than one) reduced to pitiful scraps of life as lab rats, scared prey, and freak shows wears off? Let’s make it a game! Do you think Sarkhan will:

A. Cry.

B. Throw up.

C. Embrace this as a plane’s reality that he has no right to get involved with.

D. Scream.

E. Set something on fire.

F. Set everything on fire.

G. Bring back the dragons.

H. Burn the city to the ground with dragons.

I. Kill Niv-Mizzet.

J. All the above except “C”.

If you selected Answer “J”, then congratulations! You’ve just won a free trip to a BURNING METROPOLIS! Sarkhan will absolutely make it his life’s goal to bring dragons back to Ravnica and destroy the whole wretched city down to the last brick. How he would do it is up to you, but it’s a solid bet that even if every other Guild treats him like an apocalyptic madman, the Gruul might side with him over some shared beliefs in smashing the city apart with ferocious animal savagery. They tend to lean towards such ideas with uncharacteristic willful compliance. Ravnican dragons are primarily red, with the most prominent breed still remaining being the Utvara Hellkites beyond the city limits.

Oh, and Sarkhan can turn into a dragon, too. Have fun with that.

[schiste-argileux]

Idw Prowl is an evil SOB (took him two years to send the Wreckers to Garrus-9 and help Maxy (who was protecting all the war crimes the Bots did), put Maxy’s torturer and a war criminal on board the Lost Light cuz why not, sent Pharma to Delphi knowing it was DJD territory)

Prowl... Prowl’s creation and competence in his area of work is astounding. He is brilliant, creative, and defiantly apathetic of this world. But, he is very human in his own way. IDW Prowl is selfish, yet not. He is a unique in that aspect because most people make decisions like his for the sole reason of benefiting themselves. But Prowl’s sole reason of existing is to create PEACE. 

Peace. Peace can only be done when people are complacent, happy, and satisfied. When things are stationary. Stable. 

But life is never stable. Elements desire to form bonds, yet are almost always leaning towards to instability... Prowl’s form of PEACE is a world where there is no fighting. But everything sentient requires to fulfill its desires. As long as there is desire, people will fight. 

A world of PEACE would be a world of full control, there are no surprises, no change. Safety, routines, and constants. No creativity, no development... nothing. stagnant. 

But I must admire Prowl’s tenacity and dedication to this world! 

He sacrifices everything for the sake of the directive, preserve cybertron, PEACE. He sacrifices his morals (Robot Gets Bullied By a Human), his dignity (Recent News, Cop Accepts Orgy For The Means of Establishing Peace, his body (Recent News, Cop gets Molested by A Spider for The Autobot Cause), and of course, thousands of lives (Not Recent News). :D Prowl respects and understands that there will always be chaos and instability, and he is so very flexible around it all! He literally can maximize everything and anything he has. He is the embodiment of consequentialism with a lil dash of politics. I wish my group project members were 1% as productive as him! Prowl tries to put everything black and white, and he gets upset when things get far more tricky, and wants to get everything in control so people can stay safe and remain in peace and not fight! And that’s a respectable goal! Control can be good, it means one understands and is able to retain themselves and the thing they are controlling. But Prowl doesn’t want to accept that there are things out of his control. And Prowl likes to think he’s justified when he controls the uncontrollable. 

I mean, yeah, if he didn’t do what he did, the autobots would have been six feet under A LOT EARLIER. Optimus is not a good leader, preserving organic life over his own soldiers? Psh. Look at Spike, he’s got valid points and can I understand why he left the ‘bots. Prowl’s probably thinking everyday, DAMN, OP, WHY R U SO DUMB. LISTEN WE NEED TO FEED OUR SOLDIERS AND PRIORITIZE OUR SPECIES LIVES INSTEAD OF THIS FUCKING CARBON BASED CIRCLE. HELLO??? And literally Prowl could have been like I’m gonna get ya assassinated so I CAN HAVE IT MY WAY. But Prowl was BORN for the RULES. To follow, to MAKE PEACE. Killing the prime figurehead is against that, even if it would make his life way easier! (hence, not that selfish and also sad that your life is the rules. That’s a short leash, but he makes due)

Honestly I feel bad for Prowl. Must suck to be so big brain that everyone hates you when you say the truths (but also you could learn some more tricks from Jazz to be nicer and hide the truth, but that’s scary because a nicer prowl means more people he can trick and use. Thanks Prowl for being so straightforward! Now people can avoid you easier). He's so straightforward about things that need to be done, he’s in constant denial about the grey area of life!

That’s why when Spike slapped Prowl with reality slaps, Prowl lost some of his shit. Remember, nearly everyone had the edgy depressed time in their teens or young adult years where you realize the world is truly unfair and nothing is black and white? Yeah. Slap that on a 6+ million year old robot with a battle computer and is capable of big brain CPU-age, and was literally built for the sole purpose of enforcing rules and making peace? And no one really cared about Prowl enough to understand him and his background. So Prowl goes through his angst moment alone with his huge titties, frustrated. THIS. IS. WHY. YOU. COMMUNICATE. YA DINGUS. 

Prowl doesn’t become a school shooter like Pharma cuz hes got bigger brain and a lot more power and control over himself, but he literally becomes Shadow The Hedgehog (Even if the world’s against me I’ll fight like I’ve always have). HE’S GONE ROGUE. MA’AM, SIR, THE FUCKING OREO COOKIE HAS TRANSFORMED AND ROLLED OUT.  like. OP was the one thing holding prowl back, which was good! But now prowl’s on the roll and bumblebee is too nice and passive to hold him back. + the bombshell brainwash? feels so bad. being prowl sucks. because Prowl is a necessary evil. 

At least he’s wonderfully blunt about his goal to create a peaceful cybertron, which makes it easier if you want to avoid him or smth. meanwhile you have fake people IRL that smile their way through and then slit your throat and you won’t even know it was them (hey jazz, no offense, but that’s what spec ops does). Fakers are the scariest enemy, but Prowl is still a threat, just not as big as a someone who fluffs you up on a balloon and then pops it. Prowl would just be like, hey, you’re really useful, come over here in my white van i wanna show you something and then maybe you get destroyed. But hey! You were the one with the highest chance of surviving compared to other people! Isn’t that great? You’re so skilled WOW. (Prowl gets punched. Again!) Prowl represents the necessary evil in society. We WILL ALWAYS HAVE EVIL people in this world. But Prowl is a far better evil than people who do evil for their own selfish reasons. It’s like how we have law enforcers and politicians . It’s basically giving them legal rights to do illegal things (lmao). BUT we need them regardless. We need those people to get their hands dirty, possibly killed, so that people can live in innocence and peace. 

I don’t think Prowl ever realized that he was a necessary evil, and when Spike showed him that, he was bitter. But he accepted it. Which I respect because most people can’t be bothered to understand themselves and just throw themselves in denial, and point fingers for their flaws. Prowl sucks up and understands who he is, and he makes the best of it to achieve his goal.  I mean, honestly? Prowl is probably a miracle worker. Not in a Ratchet sense. But look at the way modern governments run, nothing gets done, everything is stalled because no one has the guts to make sacrifices. Prowl would have gotten a shit ton of things done, man, and take quick efficient action. Even if he sacrifices many things for it.  (Warning. I do not condone any taking of lives, NO ONE has the right to judge whenever a person should live or die.)  Prowl reminds me of 秦始皇 (Qin Shi Huang), the king who unified China and sacrificed millions to make the Great Wall, canals, and road systems that last to this day. If it wasn’t for these accomplishments, China wouldn’t have been what it is today. Was it a good thing? For the future residents of China? Hell yeah. But the costs? Those are sins that can never be erased, and they are horrible and shouldn't be done ever again. Was it necessary? Perhaps. But that’s another discussion. Is Prowl evil? Depends on your definition of evil. Perhaps he’s justified, perhaps in his world, he’ll go down as the Qin Shi Huang of the Cybertronians. Regardless, Prowl like Pharma, is an EXCELLENT example to study on public ethics, and administrative officials should analyze him and learn from his mistakes and sins.  I think Prowl is not evil in a sense that he wishes to harm others, but evil in a sense of his apathy. Prowl is a necessary component to a functional society (someone to plot, to use people, to enforce rules even if some are sacrificed, someone who can get their hands dirty). He lives a terrible and sad fate, and I do not wish ANYONE to live a life like Prowl’s or look up to Prowl. Yes, he’s so clever and brilliant, but that kind of power will make you the loneliest person on Earth.

Thanks Prowl for taking the entire load of sin on your shoulders! Big MVP! You get nothing from the world except hate and contempt.  I would go on about him more but I have IRL stuff to do. I love Prowl as an example to tell people that MODERATION. COMMUNICATION. AND COMPASSION are important factors to have a healthy and good mental state. Prowl is the perfect example of someone who doesn’t want to empathize (haha so many people are like this today), who doesn’t want to try to use more braincells and friends help to make better plans that are more moderate and not extreme, and who doesn’t want to talk to anyone thinking its a waste of time or have difficulty explaining things.  BUT I LOVE G1 PROWL because he has far more patience and manners, and doesn’t take a darker, route for his goals. awhohdohd he’s baby,,, i wish all cops had patience and manners and in general open-minded yet cautious enough not to be taken advantage of,,,, perhaps then we wouldn’t have so much polarization and fighting with authority in this world.... 

uwuwwuwuwuw they did prowl so dirty in idw WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ;____;   Again, you are welcome to disagree or agree! I wrote this really quickly so I’m sure there will be points that could be clarified or edited. Prowl’s really complicated and I do not like to talk about current IRL problems, but Prowl represents a lot of problems in society. And I think it’s critical if we try to look at both perspectives to get an understanding on WHY people do these things, and is there a solution to AVOID making those same mistakes? There’s a couple of controversial things in this short essay I wrote, esp. about cops IRL. So feel free to have at it! Or ignore it! Whichever is more comfortable for you! Thanks for coming to my ted talk! Again, Prowl is a bad influence and a sorrowful life to live. please do not try to be like prowl. xD I won’t intrude on you if you do, because you have a right to live the life you want as long as you’re not hurting other people’s interests and wellbeing! 

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 3: The Sweet Appeals (Part 3)

Warnings: violence (a bit), PTSD

Author notes: this is the last part of chapter 3! Before jumping to chapter 4, there will be a chapter 3.5, which is a kind of short side story. It is important nonetheless. See you in the next chapter!

The way toward the headquarters was silent. Dazai-san did not even try to annoy his partner, which was very unusual, and I tried to sit as far as possible from him, hugging his coat tightly around my trembling body. It felt so warm, for some reason, and almost acted as a blanket, since it was too big for me. My superior did not seem like the type to wear cologne, yet there was a faint scent of perfume on his clothes. Or rather, it smelled like clean laundry... So he did take care of his appearance, after all...? Or was it only his duties obligating him to look proper...? Coming from Nakahara-san, it would only seem normal, but from Dazai-san... I closed my eyes a moment, leaning my head onto the cool window. When I would be back, I would rush toward the pharmacy to get a new box of pills. This pain was getting unbearable...

"Are you sleeping?" He asked, out of the blue.

"How could I...? Everyone is too busy dealing with the rain and other personal problems to let me sleep..." I chuckled tiredly "I can even hear that Nakahara-san is more focused on you than on the road..."

"Wh-What?? That's untrue!!" He defended.

"Hoh~ You care about me, Chūya~? So, what is he thinking?"

Making me work in such a state...? It was for the sake of his teasing, but even so... He was so careless toward others... All I wished for was a warm shower, pain relievers, a night of rest and, mostly, being left alone. And I had nothing of those.

"He... Deeply thinks you are a pain..." I winced slightly "And that he's going to punch you if you..."

I stopped, and stared at Nakahara-san, whose eyes met mine.

"If I~?"

"If you don't stop bothering her." He finished for me, glaring at his partner "Can't you see Ogawa-kun is exhausted already?"

"It's fine, Nakahara-san...!" I sat up rather quickly, making the world spin around me "If it is Dazai-san's orders, I cannot... I cannot refuse..."

"Lay." My superior pushed me back toward the window and crossed his arms "You'll admit it is to my advantage to know your thoughts~"

"You don't need Ogawa-kun for that..." He shook his head "I warn you, if you can't train her, I'll —"

"You will not take her." He narrowed his eyes "Remember? You aren't an executive yet, anyway."

Why did it sound like they were arguing over a toy...? Despite being aware of Nakahara-san's intentions, I could not help feeling reduced to an object...

"Should have thought about this..." He gritted his teeth.

"Are you implying that I can't even take care of a protege?" He suddenly sounded darker.

My heart pounded in my chest, in fear. I was afraid Dazai-san would think I had complained to Nakahara-san about how he beat me up daily... It was untrue, I did not wish for the red-haired man to defend me... But it did feel good to have someone the slightest concerned about my being... I was unused to consideration.

"Obviously he can't..." I heard his thoughts.

"I did not say that." He parked the car in front of the headquarters "I'll head right back, so I'll just drop you there. I hope I won't have to see you any time soon...!"

"So do I...!" He slammed the door once we were out "Let's go in, Ogawa-kun."

"Yes, Dazai-san..." I glanced a last time at his partner and followed him, picking his suitcase up.

We unexpectedly headed toward his second in command's office. Inside, a frightened Yamada-san greeted his superior, who simply sat down in front of his desk while I stayed behind, holding his suitcase.

"So..." Dazai-san crossed his hands under his chin "What happened, exactly?"

"I... I handed over your paperwork to her... She found the order inside..." He stuttered.

"Orders don't mix inside paperwork." He reminded "Which means you put it there on purpose."

"N-No...! I mean... I did..." He corrected upon seeing the executive's glare.

"Why did you do that?"

"I don't —"

"Why did you do that?!" Dazai-san hit the desk so loudly I jumped in surprise.

It was quite unlike him to burst out so violently. Even during training, he would very calmly send me to the ground, without any outburst. His threats were so composed they sent shivers down one's spine, and his coldness as he fulfilled his executive role was enough for his men to remain quiet throughout the entire mission. Yet, in front of Yamada-san, he had slammed his hand against the desk with such force that both the second in command and I stayed stunned, astonished. Silently, I prayed that the older man would answer quickly, so no problem would ensue. I had never seen our superior in that state, I would not know how to deal with him.

"I... I did that..."

"I know you did, you scum!" He grabbed his collar "But I am asking why. Why in the world did you show Ogawa-kun that order?!"

"To exploit my weakness...!" I replied hastily in the man's stead.

I would not mind the least, were he to be strangled, but I was afraid Dazai-san could get out of control. It was not the moment to feel depressed about the uncomfortable emptiness in my chest, I had to regain composure, to become unfazed once again.

"A weakness?" He let go of Yamada-san "And how would he exploit it?"

I put the suitcase down and stood straight, trying not to be impressed. I was a subordinate reporting to her executive.

"He thought seeing it would make me fall into despair." I explained "He thought he could use that despair to take advantage of me... In some physical ways. Only, he had not predicted that I hated these people and would want to go instead."

"Physical ways..." He narrowed his eyes.

When he did that, the person in front of him usually was in danger.

"Did he molest you?"

"He intended to." I answered simply.

Everything then happened rather quickly. Dazai-san's fist flew toward Yamada-san's jaw, so hard that the man hit the wall behind him before falling lax onto the carpet. My superior rubbed his bandaged knuckles, staring down in contempt at him.

"Never again try to touch my protege. I should demote you or fire you for that, but I don't have such a stupid and moveable pawn at hand for the moment. How lucky you are..." He hissed "Let's go, Ogawa-kun. I think you have some things to report."

"Yes, Dazai-san." I followed him out without even a glance toward the man.

We were alone in his own office, and I did not dare getting too close to him. In a corner, I put the suitcase down, before hanging his coat and standing near the couch, waiting for his orders. On the desk, the paperwork had not budged since I had left earlier. Distractedly, he took a quick look at it, before casually tossing everything on the floor. Piles of documents fell down like a rain of white sheets. It was a waste... Was he going to demand me to sort everything out as a way to punish me? My legs started trembling in exhaustion, and my painful headache did not arrange anything. I wanted to run away.

"Where is that paper demanding to kill your family?"

"I think I left it in Yamada-san's office, earlier." I recalled "Should I fetch it?"

"Forget it." He sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Shall I clean the mess?" I inquired.

"Let that be. Go dry yourself, you're as soaked as a mop. And bring me back a cup of coffee while you're at it." He ordered.

"Yes, Dazai-san." I nodded, not quite appreciating the comparison.

The bathroom was close to the office, fortunately, and I quickly locked myself inside before leaning my back on the door. Finally, I was away from my superior... How nervous he made me by being so unpredictable. Slowly, I stared at the mirror next to me. I looked tired, disheveled, and was, indeed, as soaked as a mop. My coat literally leaked water, not to mention my pants and blazer. I discarded the pieces of clothes on the floor and hopped into the shower to warm myself up. As the water poured onto my skin, I caught myself wondering about Dazai-san. He was usually so ruthless, so indifferent toward me, yet, this day, he had almost seemed concerned about the fact I had killed my parents, or about the fact I had been threatened by Yamada-san. He had even punched him for my sake... It was strange. It was unlike him to care about someone, even more if that someone was me. What would have driven him to act this way...? Or was it that, under the mask of a merciless superior, a more sensible man was hidden...? I did not dare dreaming. It was impossible, after all..

I attempted to dry my wet clothes once I was out of the shower, hoping my only outfit would not be ruined by a single downpour. For the evening, it would have to do... I could not walk around the headquarters naked, after all. Quickly, I brought my freshly washed hair into a messy ponytail and buttoned my blazer. I had to get Dazai-san some coffee, but, beforehand, I would have to stop by the pharmacy to get painkillers for myself. As I was about to open the door, however, a voice interrupted me.

"Where do you think you are going?"

It was my voice... Yet I had not uttered a word. Nervously, I glanced at the mirror. My reflection was talking to me.

"I have work to do. I can't afford to lose time there." I retorted.

"Coward. Do you think you can escape me? You despicable parricide. What did you do?"

"I completed a mission..."

"You fulfilled your wish of revenge. So? How was it? Was it satisfying, hearing them beg for mercy~?"

"Oh, it was very entertaining." I kept my composure "Their screams were music to my ears. But you were here, you know that."

"That's precisely why I ask you. You're empty, aren't you? Frustrated. You haven't achieved the bliss you had hoped for, even if those people you loathe are finally gone from the world. Why is that, I wonder. Perhaps killing them isn't the thing you should have done, after all." She said, more seriously.

"I've always wanted to end that scum's life...!" I snarled "Ever since I found that gun in his drawer, I've wanted the bullet to pierce his skull...!"

"But the woman... You've never truly desired her death. We've never really had any intent to kill her, in the first place. She was a mistake. And any human being who makes a mistake regrets it... Yōko, don't we regret it?"

"Ah... I understand, now..." I huffed, crossing my arms "You are my clear conscience, aren't you? The Yōko who still believes in life, the one who wanted to forgive that woman, and also the one who doesn't completely detest Dazai-san. So what? Mistakes were made, but it's too late now. Go back to sleep, you are a burden for my work."

"I exist! And you see me... Doesn't it mean that, somehow, you still have a heart?"

"I have no such thing!" I barked at the mirror "A heart is a hindrance to the Port Mafia... Had I not suppressed you, I couldn't have done half of my current job!"

"Indeed... I would never have sacrificed innocent slaves to complete a mission. No matter what you say, I am here, and I will keep conflicting your feelings." She warned.

"You are but a whisper among the screams of my mind. I don't have to listen."

"What about this? Even though you killed them, you couldn't erase your parents' existence. After all, they still live inside you, through your flesh, through your blood. You are them as a whole..."

"Stop! I'm not them... I don't take after them! Never, never, never, never!"

"You are still their daughter."

"I am not! I denied them!"

"No matter what, you are still Ogawa Yōko."

I screamed, holding my head. These people were still my parents... Even though I had killed them, they were still my parents, who had given life to me...! It was impossible. It could not be true...!

"Never! Never, never!" I repeated, pulling out my gun "Shut up!"

"Even if you shoot me —"

I pulled the trigger, once, twice... Until the magazine was completely empty. I let myself fall onto the ground, sobbing heavily, empty-minded. What good had it done, to murder those parents of mine? Had they been executed by someone else, perhaps would I have been more detached, more satisfied... At the very least, Ruriko-chan had survived, but she would eternally hate me for stealing her happiness. And I had nothing left...

When I finally looked up, the ground was covered in shattered glass and the mirror had completely been broken by the bullets. The illusion had disappeared, but her voice remained in my mind, like a constant echo. It was my own voice, telling me I was a murderer. Cursing against myself, I rubbed my tired eyes and went out of the bathroom, in the corridor. Soon enough, someone would notice the mess and clean it up, and, hopefully, I would not be asked about the matter. Even so, I could just say I had had a moment of madness... Just a moment of madness...

Before getting Dazai-san's coffee, I stopped by the pharmacy to refill my box of pills. I desperately needed them to calm my pain down. With the previous incident, the headache had only gotten worse. If only I could go back to rest... Yet, I had to reach the cafeteria, where I asked for a cup of dark coffee. It was warm against my hand, and the beverage had a nice comforting smell. I resisted my desire to drink it, and soon arrived in front of my superior's office. Feebly, I knocked. The door opened onto a man I had never seen before.

"Good evening..." I muttered, intimidated "I am one of Dazai-san's subordinates..."

"She was out getting me a coffee." The executive explained "Don't stand in the middle of the way, Ogawa-kun."

I nodded and, quietly, put the cup onto the desk. The man Dazai-san was joyfully chatting with was tall. His hair was a light brown, and his eyes were as blue as a clear sky in summer. He had a gentle look, almost as though he was not a mafioso. I did not know the demon prodigy had friends... It seemed different from the way he interacted with Nakahara-san. He was being less childish, perhaps...

Without a word, I decided to pick up the paperwork he had carelessly thrown on the floor to sort it out again. I simply could not let the office look like a mess and it would not bother them, anyway.

"Even so, why did you never tell me you had a girl in your team?" The friend asked.

"It wasn't important." He shrugged, taking a sip of coffee.

I did not matter... Despite knowing about such a fact, I could not help feeling my chest clenching painfully. Somehow, I had hoped that, in the Port Mafia, I could exist, more than in the Ogawa mansion... It was a mistake...

"She's your subordinate, don't say things like this."

I glanced at the man. He looked so kind... He radiated with gentleness... It would feel warm, perhaps, to be comforted by him. Somehow, I wanted to be held... I wanted to feel some human warmth... I wanted to cry on a shoulder...

"Dazai-san..." I spoke as they both stopped talking "I am going to take my leave... I will report to you tomorrow."

"Wait...!" The man with clear blue eyes stopped me "What is your name? I would like to know. I am Oda Sakunosuke."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Oda-san." I bowed in front of him "Although I am of little importance, my name is Ogawa Yōko. I am an ability user serving under Dazai-san's orders."

"Nice to meet you too." He smiled "If you ever need anything, you can come to me —"

Upon hearing such reassuring words, I burst into tears, shamefully trying to hide my face the best I could, not to let them see such a pitiful sight. However, Oda-san pulled me against him to hug me, and I cried into his chest, clinging onto his shirt.

"You are but a child..." He sighed, patting my head "Shouldering the responsibility of killing your parents... It truly is too much after all..."

At the moment, I did not care how even he knew I had gone out to murder the Ogawa. I only wanted to sob, to feel his comforting touch. I craved care, and it had been too long I had not experienced it.

"By the way..." Dazai-san said as I calmed down "You made a mess in the bathroom. What did the poor mirror do to you?"

"I-I'm sorry..." I became aware of my position and pulled away "I didn't mean to... I... I had a moment of madness..."

"Even I could understand that. For now, I'll —"

"Dazai." His friend cut him "Let her rest for the moment. She is exhausted."

"Sure, rest..." He looked away, crossing his arms.

"Good." Oda-san smiled "I'll take my leave now, goodnight, Dazai, Ogawa."

The door shut behind him, leaving me only with Dazai-san in the office, which could be considered as being alone, regarding how talkative my superior was. I was quick to bow in front of him, apologetically.

"Forgive me for showing you such an unsightly side of me. It shall not happen again." I murmured, feebly.

"Whatever..." He sighed, sitting down at his desk "Thank you for cleaning the documents..."

"You're welcome...?"

I was surprised. It was the first time he acknowledged one of my doings, and even thanked me. I wondered what he had in mind. Was that a new method of torture?

"How..." He started, hesitatingly "How do you feel, Ogawa-kun...?"

I looked at him in disbelief. Was he really asking me? It would be a first... Dazai-san inquiring about a subordinate, about me... From Nakahara-san and Oda-san, I had not flinched, but from him... Did he have a hidden motive I could not understand?

"As you can see..." I slumped down on the couch "I am perfectly fine."

"Are you honestly answering that...?"

"And are you honestly asking that...?" I frowned "Dazai-san... With all due respect, you've never cared before..."

"Does it bother you?"

"N-No... It doesn't bother me..." I felt my hands moisten "I am just slightly taken aback..."

"So, tell me. How did it feel to finally have revenge on the people who treated you worse than an animal?"

"A-Actually... I..."

I took a deep breath. It had been so blissful, at first, entering the mansion, preparing my deception, threatening them... But when the play I had written had finally reached climax, I had felt... Utterly disgusted.

"The outcome was not... The one I had expected..." I blurted out "I... Do not feel the least happy. Instead, I am haunted by the face of those people, and it is as if emptiness tries to eat me whole, munching at my soul... I... Am very upset..."

"That much, I could tell..."

"You cannot achieve happiness by killing people, after all..." I realised "It was my mistake... I'm sorry for insisting, for being stubborn, earlier..."

I looked down, a way to avoid seeing disappointment in his eyes.

"I am also at fault." He conceded, unexpectedly "I should have forbidden you to go, at any cost... I should have threatened you, punished you, anything that would have prevented you from doing such a thing. My mistake was believing you were aware of your doing, but even I should know revenge is never taken out of sane spirit. Since I also made a mistake, I will not blame you for the mess in the bathroom."

"I am grateful, Dazai-san..." I could not believe how lucky I was not to be beaten "I am grateful..."

"Also, I've heard about your good work while I was away. You did well, and although there were losses, the first mission I entrusted to you was a success. It's good." He kind of mumbled at the end, as though praising me was the hardest thing to do.

"Thank you, Dazai-san..." I cracked a small smile, proud "By the way, although it did not go as expected, I did learn something from that killing."

"Which is...?" He sounded surprised.

"The name of my ability, Dazai-san. Finally... I know that this curse is named The Sweet Appeals." I told him.

"It was about time. I've never heard of anyone forgetting how they named their ability. It's a bit like forgetting your own name. Why did you name your 'curse' as such?" He asked.

"I can't quite remember..." I admitted, strangely feeling down "I think it was when I was small... I heard someone's thoughts... For the first time, in that despicable mansion, they were nice, warm, caring... And they were directed to me..."

Suddenly, tears fell onto my knees, heavily. I sniffed, trying to wipe them away, without much success.

"I-I'm sorry... Again..." I apologised "I don't know why... I feel so sad..."

"Ogawa-kun, it's fine..."

"That person... They truly cared about me... In fact, I think I had heard their thoughts before even being born... Isn't that strange...?" I sobbed, uncontrollably "I can't... I shouldn't have remembered..."

I felt a hand onto my head, almost gentle, and the thoughts I could hear calmed down. The world seemed appeased, and my inner turmoils were also quietened. In fact, my eyelids were heavy and threatened to fall at any time.

"Dazai-san..." I murmured "Why...?"

"Because you did a good job, and because you are exhausted by today." He stated simply "You need not think about what happened anymore... You belong only to the Port Mafia, now."

"Y-Yes, Dazai-san..."

"That's good."

I smiled, letting my mind wander to another place.

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[jaeknightorbats]

Tunnel Caprica [M] part 5

Pairings: Baekhyun x Sehun (SeBaek)

Ratings: NC-17

Genre: Smut, dark romance, Rich!Sehun, Convenience Store Worker!Baekhyun

Description: It was a normal day for convenience store worker Byun Baekhyun when Sehun—a seemingly wealthy man—entered the store, only getting overdosed by drugs afterwards.  It was the encounter that would change Baekhyun’s life. It was the encounter that introduced him to a world that should never exist in this already problematic world.

Warnings: Graphic sexual content(!), substance use, drug overdose, alcohol, and strong language

Chapters: Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5 (NEW!)

Synopsis: Tunnel Caprica connects two cities under the huge and long mountain ranges of the country Ioca [a-yo-ka], making it one of the longest tunnels in the world with a distance of nearly 40 kilometers. However, people choose to drive the 3-hour long pass than driving through the tunnel, because driving through the tunnel can be claustrophobic—an hour drive with nothing but repeating images of the never ending tunnel. But through the tunnel also hides the entrance to another world that Baekhyun is yet to find out.

Part 5

Word count: 5.7k words

Chapter warnings: Explicit language, mild graphic descriptions

‘Why the fuck did I say yes.’

Baekhyun was anxious all afternoon.

He couldn’t get his head off of the possibilities that could happen later that night at High C’s, the club downtown that Sehun talked about. Baekhyun had never been there since it was an exclusive place. He’d barely been in that area, especially at night—where he had heard stories that the driveway was often packed with sports and luxury cars with people coming out of it in the weirdest fashion, both literally and figuratively.

Baekhyun was never really the type to hang around in bars or clubs frequently, he only did so when a friend invited him on some occasions, and it’s a good excuse to socialize and let loose. But it had been months since he was last invited, he had been too focused on his own commitments.

‘I must protect Yuri,’ he thought. ‘I must protect myself.’

Sehun wasn’t picky with his prey. He didn’t discriminate. He would insert his damn cock to whichever hole he wanted. That was what Baekhyun was afraid of—Sehun’s unpredictability. 

He couldn’t tell Yuri what kind of a person Sehun was because that would only reveal what had happened between him and Sehun.  

‘Or maybe I’m overthinking things?’ He wondered. ‘He seems harmless outside the bed.’

“What the hell am I complaining about? He gave me 4K,” he mumbled to himself as he twisted the shower knob off. He was in the shower.

Water dripped from the tips of his hair falling to the wet tiled floor of his bathroom. And his eyes noticed the bush that was going around down there, protecting his dignity. If he still had one. Not after what had happened the night before. Then he remembered Sehun’s—that looked alluring. Baekhyun wondered if he had his cleaned, he wondered would it look as pleasing?

Baekhyun suddenly couldn’t get the idea off his mind, suddenly having the urge to cut his bush down right that moment. Maybe it would make him feel better, more confident about himself. And it may be convenient to cut it down this moment than later.

‘I’m not doing this for anyone.’ Baekhyun thought to himself. ‘I’m doing this for myself. No, I’m not trying to impress anyone. Not because we’d meet later.’

“Just a trim,” he muttered to himself, staring down.

‘Just so it happens there’s a party tonight. Just pure coincidence.’

“Just a trim,” he repeated.

“What took you so long? Did you sleep there?” Yuri asked, eyeing Baekhyun when he stepped out of the bathroom, as she hooked a large hoop earring on one ear.

Baekhyun scratched his crotch over his shorts, and topless. He stretched his neck from side to side from the sore he felt while doing the procedure. He then stroked his stomach and answered Yuri’s question, “Upset tummy.”

Yuri looked back at the mirror, convinced with his answer.

“What are you wearing?” Baekhyun asked with a frown while he was drying his hair with a towel.

After she hooked the other earring on her other ear, she turned to him with an open arm and said, “Well, how do I look?”

Baekhyun stopped drying his hair, a bit stunned, while he evaluated Yuri’s look when she faced her whole body to him. The first thing he noticed were her perky breasts under her string strapped red cropped top. Then she’s also wearing a black high waist mini skirt, revealing a part of her abdomen, finishing it with a black heel. “That’s too revealing,” Baekhyun uttered.

Yuri looked down over her outfit. “No, it’s not,” she retorted. “Besides, this is my best clothes. And this is the only thing I brought.” They had stopped by at Yuri’s place to pick up some of her clothes earlier. She continued, looking back at the mirror in front of her, “You have no choice. If you only listened to me, we could’ve bought clothes earlier.”

Baekhyun arched his brow. “With what?”

She looked at him over the mirror, opening her eyes wide open as if the answer wasn’t obvious.

“The money?” Baekhyun answered himself, referring to the money he received from Sehun.

She raised her shoulders. “Yeah. What else are you going to do with it?” She then gasped, eyes glimmering, “Oh! We can finally go on a trip, Baek!”

“A trip?”

“Yeah!”

A trip, something Baekhyun hadn’t thought about. Then images of white beaches and warmer climate appeared in his mind since his country, Ioca, was full of mountains and lands. They could totally afford to go a much less-earthy place with the money he gained. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” he agreed with a wondering smile.

Yuri’s lips curved upwards, delighted that Baekhyun seemed to like the idea. So she walked towards him and wrapped her arms around his bare shoulders. “Right?”

Baekhyun stared down at her and wrapped his arms around Yuri’s waist. She smelled good with the usual Eau de Cologne she wore, her eyes looked strong with the dark eye makeup she had. “You look pretty.”

Yuri blushed, and tiptoed to reach for Baekhyun’s lips. “I love you, baby.”

Baekhyun kissed her again, then said, “I gotta get changed.”

“Okay, my handsome boy.” She stared endearingly at him while gently stroking her palm across Baekhyun’s buffed chest to his slender stomach that tickled him. Her hand kept stroking down until she got a hold of his shaft, and squeezed them. Baekhyun grunted, his stomach tensing, suddenly feeling weak. She bit her lower lip and moaned. Then suddenly, she slightly jumped from her position, jerking her hand away from him, as if she got pricked by a thorn. Then Yuri gazed at Baekhyun with a frown, studying him. Then she said slowly, “Okay, go get changed.”

It was past nine in the evening, Baekhyun and Yuri had finished preparing. Baekhyun was wearing a pair of black jeans, a tacky denim jacket over a white shirt. Yuri was looking at him quizzically by the door.

“You don’t like what I’m wearing?” Baekhyun asked, approaching Yuri.

“Shouldn’t you be wearing something more… suave? Like the one you wore to his party?”

“Babe, it’s a club. No one would see me there.” He added, “People sometimes go to clubs with just shirts.”

“I know, but have you seen that man?” Her eyes opened wide, and jabbered, “That suave looking man who just stood out there outside your place this morning? That man? They’ll probably be in their suits.” Baekhyun didn’t speak, but he began to think twice. Yuri huffed, “Just make sure don’t ridicule us in front of them.”

Baekhyun shrugged and opened the front door of his place. He left his car parked on the side of the street after he and Yuri came back from Yuri’s place, picking up Yuri’s things.

“Don’t you think we should call an Uber instead?” Yuri asked, looking at the car with contempt.

“What’s wrong with my car?”

“I mean, you may never know what could happen. You can’t drive if you drink,” she said, implying that there could be a possibility they’d drink.

“We’re not gonna drink,” uttered Baekhyun firmly. No, he had no plan on drinking. Not after what had happened that night.

“But you’re not sure about that, babe.”

“Well, I’m not gonna drink,” he retorted.

Yuri went quiet, then she pouted, “I’m telling you, baby—I’ve said the same thing myself before.  And I always end up drinking.”

Baekhyun sighed, because he himself was guilty of the feeling. He always ended up drinking. However, this time, he felt so sure about not drinking even though he could drive. “No, I promise I won’t drink. I have a job tomorrow, remember?” Although Sehun's job for him was in the afternoon, he couldn’t take any chances to have another hangover.

Yuri grunted in frustration. “Can we just call an Uber?” She pulled her phone out of her tiny purse that could only hold her large phone, a compact powder and lipstick, not even her wallet could fit. She only brought bills.

“You don’t like going there with my car?”

“Yeah, I don’t,” she grumbled as she tapped on her phone. “Baek, these are rich people. Have some self-respect. At least make yourself look presentable.”

“Babe, the car’s not going inside. We’re just going to park it somewhere.”

Yuri gave Baekhyun a side-eye, glaring at him, then looked back at her phone. “Ha-bloody-ha. Very funny.” Then her mouth circled when something popped out on her phone, someone took her booking. “We got a Mercedes Benz.” She smirked at him. “Two minutes.”

“Benz? You took premium?”

She arched a brow. “Of course.”

Two minutes came by, the shiny black sedan parked outside Baekhyun’s place. Yuri grinned when the vehicle came by, Baekhyun only gently smiled at his girlfriend, shaking his head. It didn’t feel overwhelming for Baekhyun when they entered the luxury vehicle, and it also seemed a bit old. At least they could tell they had ridden a Mercedes.

Yuri sat closely to Baekhyun, cuddling herself into his shoulder, and Baekhyun wrapped one arm around her waist. “I’m excited,” she said. “It’s been so long since we went out like this at night. Did you miss it?”

Baekhyun scoffed. “Not really.”

“Why? You’re so fun when you’re drunk.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, you’re just so fun.” She looked up at Baekhyun and closed her eyes, pouting, for a kiss while quietly humming an ‘Mmmh.’

Baekhyun gulped, staring down at his girlfriend. He avoided her lips but instead leaned closer to her ears, and whispered, “Baby, we’re in someone else’s car.”

Yuri’s eyes remain closed. “So what?”

Baekhyun glanced at the rear-view mirror of the car and caught the driver looking at them, then they both avoided each other’s gazes. “Yuri, c’mon.” Baekhyun slightly pushed her away, then looked through the window.

But Yuri still leaned her head on Baekhyun’s shoulder. “But isn’t he so handsome?”

Baekhyun looked at Yuri. “Who? Sehun?”

“Yeah. He looked like a celebrity. He’s so tall!”

Baekhyun almost thought the same thing on his first encounter with Sehun at the convenience store. He had thought Sehun was lost inside the convenience store.

“Baek, what does he do?” Yuri questioned.

Baekhyun was lost in his thoughts when Yuri asked a question, then slowly, he understood it. “What?” Now that he thought about it, he never really knew. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Maybe business?” He guessed.

“What the hell did you do to his party then? You didn’t even get to know him?”

“Get to know him?” He repeated her question with a hint of mockery. Why would he want to get to know him? Then, in a snap, he remembered everything about Sehun. Every-thing. Regret consumed him that left him wordless. But he immediately snapped out of it. “Oh! I remember it now,” he exclaimed, pretending that he remembered what Sehun does for a living. “I was a bit tipsy that time when he was talking about it. He, uh,” he was thinking of a lie to stop Yuri from asking more questions, “he’s in the art business. Selling art.” He remembered the man named Chen from Sehun’s party who was trying to sell his art to Sehun, and used this story to cover himself.

Yuri arched a brow. “That’s it?”

“Y-Yeah, rich people like to buy art.”

“Where’d you even learn that?”

“That’s what he said. ‘Cuz they have nothing else to do with their money.” Saying that himself suddenly made Baekhyun envious of these rich people’s lives, even if it was only a wild guess. If he only had that kind of money at his disposal.

“Really?” Even Yuri was surprised. “How much do they—“

“I have no idea, Yuri. Like I said, I was tipsy.”

“Gosh. Imagine if I was that rich, too.”

A loud muffled music and rowdy people from the outside caught Baekhyun’s attention, so he looked through the window and saw a convertible passed by them with people throwing their hands up while the music in the car played so loudly. “I think we’re close,” Baekhyun said.

Yuri detached herself away from Baekhyun and exchanged looks between the windshield and the window. They were beginning to see a line of shiny luxury vehicles and sports cars in bright red, pearl white, pitch crystal black, opulent blue—one was even in lime gold—parked along the street. Baekhyun was now feeling thankful for Yuri’s suggestion to take an Uber. Because driving along this street of wealth with his car would eat him alive, the same thing that almost happened to him when he had gone to Sehun’s mansion.

They were finally approaching the infamous High C, people were coming in with such manner and glamour, and people coming out on someone’s shoulders, walking wobbly. Baekhyun even spotted one throwing up already at the sidewalk. Baekhyun clenched his jaws; being in a club was all fun but it wasn’t the safest place at all.

After paying for their fare to the Uber driver, Baekhyun and Yuri got out of the vehicle and they were already feeling the party with the unruly people outside—shouting, smoking, one couple were making out. People in such peculiar and questionable fashion coming out from a vintage Mustang, two-seater sports cars, still sober. All those vehicles that Baekhyun only saw on the internet, now these cars were having a feast in this street.

Yuri bit her lips, Baekhyun could see the excitement in her eyes. There was always a certain feeling to be in a club—a sudden boost of arrogance and confidence, high sex drives, and ready to forget about themselves for a night.

“Wooh,” Baekhyun heaved. He couldn’t contain himself, he knew this would be intense.

Baekhyun and Yuri held hands as they approached the bouncer that was about 6 foot tall with large muscles and broad shoulders. But the bouncer blocked the entry door without saying anything, and he didn’t need to say anything—him blocking them was already intimidating.

Yuri courteously smiled at the bouncer and said, “We have a friend inside, uhm, Sehun?” She glanced at Baekhyun. “Oh Sehun?” Baekhyun nodded at her as confirmation. Yuri looked back at the bouncer. “Oh Sehun. We’re with him.”

The bouncer frowned at the couple, studying them. “Go to line,” he simply said under his rough voice. Baekhyun and Yuri turned their heads to their right and didn’t notice there was a long line going on to enter the club.

“But, mister,” persuaded Yuri, “I’m telling the truth. We have—”

“Line.” The bouncer couldn’t be swayed, even with Yuri’s beauty.

Yuri looked at Baekhyun. “Baby, do something about this. Call him.”

“I-I—“ Baekhyun pulled his phone out of his pocket, nervous.

“Go make your call at the line. Don’t block the way,” said the bouncer.

“No, we’re going to stay here ‘till we meet our friend, Oh Sehun.”

“Get in line,” said the bouncer more firmly.

“C’mon, Yuri.” Baekhyun pulled Yuri’s elbow..

“But, Baekhyun.”

Then the bouncer suddenly smiled, stepped aside, and let a couple enter the club without even lining up. The man slid something on the bouncer’s jacket pocket—perhaps a tip—and patted the bouncer’s back as they entered the club.

“Baek, maybe you can bribe him,” Yuri suggested while she was getting dragged at the back of the line.

“No, we’re not gonna bribe anyone.”

They finally reached the end of the line. Yuri grunted in frustration. “But, baby, we’re going to take ages here. By the time we get in, it’ll be the closing time.” Then she asked, “Are you calling Sehun?”

“He’s not picking up.”

“Ugh. Maybe the music’s too loud inside.”

It was already 10:30 PM, Sehun had said 10 PM, yet Baekhyun and Yuri were still at the line, barely moving. Yuri was frustrated, and Baekhyun’s patience was also getting tested.

“Why isn’t he picking up?” Yuri complained.

Baekhyun clenched his jaws, also annoyed at Sehun. Annoyed being in line. Baekhyun then saw in his peripherals a tall vehicle cruising in the street. And a sudden relief washed over him in a wave when he saw that black G-Wagon that he once drove when was saving Sehun. This must be Sehun. It should be, he desperately thought, already pissed off standing outside for so long.

And without fail, a long legged man stepped out of the vehicle after parking his car on the other side of the street. It was Sehun. He was wearing a white button-up shirt over a black and white suit--half white and half black, and a pair of white slim dress pants that amplified his height.

“Oh, my god. That’s him, isn’t it?” Yuri moans, also relieved.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

Sehun crossed the street, eyes on the bouncer, ready to enter without lining up.

“Sehun!” Yuri yelped out of desperation, raising her hand to get his attention. At this point, Baekhyun didn’t care if Yuri embarrassed them, he just wanted to come.

Sehun stopped from walking from a distance and turned his head to their direction. He narrowed his gaze, still not moving. Baekhyun threw his hand up, maybe Sehun could recognize them. And Sehun’s face relaxed after recognizing Baekhyun. He waved, signaling them to step forward to him. And it was such a relief to finally get out of the line.

“Hey!” Sehun greeted them when the couple reached them. “I almost forgot I invited you tonight. Have you been here long?”

“Yes—“ Yuri.

“No, we just got here, too,” Baekhyun lied out of politeness. Yuri glared at him.

“That’s good.”

“I thought you don’t like late people,” said Baekhyun.

Sehun scoffed. “This is the club, man. The later you are, the better.” Then Sehun paid attention to Baekhyun’s outfit. “What are you wearing?”

“What’s wrong?”

Sehun frowned, slightly shaking his head in disapproval. Then he looked at the people in the line and walked towards one of the people in the front. “Hey, how much would you take to trade with my friend’s jacket?” He asked a younger looking man about Baekhyun’s size in a sheen gray blazer.

“What?” The man exclaimed, confused.

“One hundred dollars?” Sehun asked even if the man didn’t understand Sehun’s question.

“Whose jacket?”

Sehun pointed at Baekhyun. “His. So $100?”

The man peeked at Baekhyun. “No, my suit’s not for sale.”

“One-eighty dollars?” Sehun offered higher, the man had gone silent.

“Tw-two hundred,” the man countered.

Sehun scoffed. “Two hundred?” He repeated, amazed by the man’s audacity as if Sehun wasn’t bold enough to ask for some stranger’s suit. “Fine.”

The man pursed his lips. And just like that, the man said, “Deal.”

Sehun snapped his fingers at Baekhyun who was standing behind him, Baekhyun immediately understood so he removed his tacky jacket and exchanged it for the better-looking suit.

“Come,” then Sehun said, walking back to the bouncer with the couple, after giving the man some money. Then Sehun placed a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder after Baekhyun put on the suit. “I like my associates to look presentable in front of my friends.”

Baekhyun only listened, then Sehun walked past by him to face the bouncer. “They’re with me,” Sehun said. The bouncer did not say anything and unhook the velvet rope to let them enter. Sehun quickly shook the bouncer’s hand and patted his back. “Thanks, Taec.”

Loud music drowned the noise from the outside when they entered the dark place, and lights only came in the flashes off the dance floor. The club was packed. Conversations were only possible by screaming. Sehun led the way, followed by Yuri, and Baekhyun was holding Yuri’s hand while they walked past the jammed crowd.

Baekhyun leaned to Yuri’s ear and shouted, “Aren’t you cold?” It was also ice cold inside and Yuri was wearing clothes that revealed too much of her skin.

“No, I’m fine,” Yuri shouted back while they followed Sehun. “I’m going to drink anyway,” she added.

Sehun then stepped to a staircase leading to the second floor of the nightclub. Baekhyun had never been into the second floor of any nightclub since couches and tables were usually much more expensive to pay for due to its exclusivity (if they wanted a much more private place). He barely even sat into any couches on the first floor, he and his friends only paid for the high tables—those without chairs (so they only stood)—when he used to go out at nightclubs. Music was much less harsh on the second floor so they didn’t have to use all of their voices to talk. And it was also much less packed. They could overlook the dance floor from above.

Sehun finally stopped in front of a table with a U-shaped couch, and people in that table began to greet him.

“Hey, man!” Sehun did a man handshake with a man that seemed to be as tall as Baekhyun. And Sehun did another with a man taller than Sehun that could reach him. The table was almost full with men and women in it.

Sehun stepped back to present Baekhyun and Yuri to the table. Sehun patted Baekhyun’s chest, “This is Byun Baekhyun,” he looked at Yuri, “and his girlfriend, Yuri.”

Baekhyun and Yuri received Heys and smiles.

“These are my friends,” Sehun gestured at each man at the table, “Lay, Kris, Tao, Luhan, and Kyungsoo. Also known as…?” He drawled, smirking at the table, waiting for them to complete his sentence.

“BBC!” The men in the table shouted proudly.

“BBC?” Yuri asked innocently.

“Billionaire Boys Club,” Sehun answered smugly. Yuri’s mouth opened. Even Baekhyun was in surprise.

“Hey, Sehun, how much is your net worth again?” A narrow shouldered man questioned provokingly.

“Oooh,” A blonde man reacted at the take.

“Very funny, Kyungsoo,” Sehun yapped, then mocked, “Hey, I heard your family is taking it hard with the stocks down.”

A man reached for the man named Kyungsoo’s shoulder and sympathetically patted them with a heavy hand while Kyungsoo’s eyes stayed round open.

Sehun scoffed then he gestured at the women at the table. “And, of course, these are their girlfriends.” But not everyone seemed to have brought a girlfriend since the number of women in the table isn’t proportional to the number of men. There were only three women besides Yuri.

People at the table cramped themselves to give seats for them. Yuri sat first, followed by Baekhyun, then Sehun sat last, sitting at the end of the couch. Best seat, in Baekhyun’s opinion— easy to get out of the table. The people in the table were wearing such colorful and patterned suits, women wearing intricate hairstyles and strong make ups. Baekhyun and Yuri were totally underdressed. But nobody seemed to pay attention but themselves.

“So, what do you do?” A woman shouted from the other end of the couch, asking Baekhyun.

Baekhyun suddenly felt intimidated with eyes all on him. He didn’t want to answer the question, especially if he would shout it across the table.

“He works for me,” Sehun answered for him. Then adds, “And why do you care?”

The woman arched her brows sassily—her cheeks already pink, her eyes already in a daze, drunk. “I just wanted to know.” Then she looked at Baekhyun as if evaluating him from face to his upper torso. And Baekhyun felt he was being judged, especially with how simple he looked.

Sehun then put two shot glasses in front of Baekhyun and Yuri and poured them with Absolut vodka that was already opened on top of the table. It seemed like the people on the table had been there fairly long with the half empty bottles and glasses scattered across the table. “Drink up,” said Sehun. Sehun only poured himself a glass of champagne. Yuri took the shot. And Baekhyun didn’t even think about it twice, he also took the shot. After the frustration he felt at the line, a shot of vodka felt deserved.

“What time did you land and you weren’t able to come to my party?” Sehun asked a tall man with black hair and hawk eyes who sat at the center of the chair who had a girl around his arm.

“I landed this noon,” he yelled over the loud music.

Sehun only nodded as a response while he sipped his champagne. Then he leaned over to Baekhyun’s ear and said loudly but not loud enough for everyone to hear, “The girl on his arm is not his wife. It’s his girlfriend.”

“What?” Baekhyun screamed. And after the buffer, he understood what Sehun had said. “He’s cheating?” He screamed in Sehun's ear.

“Don’t talk too loud!” Sehun shouted.

“But I can’t hear you!”

Then Sehun put a finger on his lip, smirking, shushing Baekhyun. One shot after another, Baekhyun could feel his body heating up but his mind was still sharp, he thought. People at the table laughed and talked loudly. Baekhyun and Yuri tried to socialize with them, especially Yuri, who was taking shot after shot—tasting all the alcohol in the table. And she was already looking red.

People were standing outside their table, minding their own business—partying, dancing, flirting, and whatnot.

Sehun was standing in front of a table with a glass of champagne at one hand, telling a story about a trip he had years ago. The hawked-eye man, Tao, complained that he had heard this story from Sehun, but Sehun liked telling his stories, so they had to endure him.

Some in the table were minding their own business, some were listening to Sehun, like Baekhyun and Yuri.

Baekhyun’s eyes then travelled to a pale white skin woman in black minidress with see-through sleeves who might pass by their table. Her hair was neatly ponytailed, her lips alluring red, and she wasn’t wearing too much makeup. Baekhyun thought she looked beautiful and elegant. And to his surprise, the woman stopped at their table, and that was also when a tall man in black suit and pants emerged from the dim lights who was with the woman. Baekhyun noticed that they were holding hands.

Sehun was in the middle of talking when the woman (or couple) stopped, and Sehun found himself somewhat dumbstruck.

The couple smiled and waved at the table, and people seemed to be delighted to see the couple with their cheerful greetings. Some threw their hands up to wave at them. The blonde hair man, Luhan, did a manly handshake with the tall and tanned man in black who was with the woman.

“Nayeon,” said Sehun, staring at the woman. Baekhyun noticed from the side that the woman’s dress was also backless, flaunting her white skin.

The woman turned her head to Sehun and quickly smiled. “Sehun.”

Sehun leaned forward to air-kiss the woman and gazed at her. “Beautiful as always.”

The woman chuckled gracefully, and Baekhyun thought that looked beautiful. She smiled, “It’s good to see you, Sehun.”

“It’s good to see you.”

Then the man with the woman interrupted, handing over his hand to Sehun, and called his name, “Sehun.”

Sehun hesitated to take the man’s hand for a shake, but then later took it, “Jongin.” They did a quick but firm handshake. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

The tall man named Jongin smirked and chuckled, ignoring Sehun. Then he assisted the woman by holding her back to sit at the other side of the couch.

Sehun went from nonstop talking to a suddenly composed man. He unbuttoned his suit as he sat next to Baekhyun opposite the couple. He then leaned to Kyungsoo, who sat at the corner, next to Yuri and said, “Why didn’t you tell me they were coming?”

“They told us the last minute!” Kyungsoo answered loudly.

Sehun hissed, shaking his head, and sat straight. He leaned to Baekhyun, eyes glued at the woman, and said, “That, my friend, is my ex-lover—Park Nayeon.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Let me tell you something,” he pointed a finger at Baekhyun so Baekhyun leaned closer, “A real keeper, she is. I was serious about her.”

Baekhyun was in slight surprise to know about this information about him. “What happened?”

“What happened?” Sehun scoffed, repeating Baekhyun’s question. “What happened—well, you know women. I don’t understand why she’d go with that small dick Jongin when I’m the total package.” He poured himself a glass of Johnnie Walker gold label and drank it in one shot.

Baekhyun looked at the couple across the table. Jongin’s hand was resting at the backrest of the couch, while Nayeon was leaning against his chest while they chatted with Luhan who was sitting next to them. “They look good,” said Baekhyun.

Sehun scoffed, cocking a brow in disapproval. Then he took his flute glass of champagne, leaning his elbow against the backrest of the couch. “Jongin!” He yelled. But Jongin didn’t hear him over the loud music. “Jongin!” Sehun yelled again and everyone’s attention was at Sehun’s.

The man in black suit and black silk button-up that showed his chest and collarbones raised his brows after hearing his name.

“Why are you always in black? Are you some sort of grim reaper or something? Are you going to kill someone?” Sehun scoffed and laughed, looking across the table. Some also laughed with him. Baekhyun nervously chuckled.

The woman with him, Nayeon, pulled Jongin’s inner arm to whisper something to him. However, Sehun and Jongin locked eyes at each other intensely.

“I didn’t see you in fashion week in Paris last two weeks,” Sehun shouted, somehow changing the topic yet their eyes were telling differently with their dead stares. Even Baekhyun could feel the tension that was exuding. “I thought I’d see you in Versace’s show.”

“We were at Pilati’s,” Jongin answered, composed.

Sehun squinted one eye, leaning forward, as if he didn’t hear what Jongin had said over the music. “Who?”

“Pilati.”

“Who?”

“I think he said Pilati,” Baekhyun said to Sehun.

“We were at Stefano Pilati’s show, Sehun,” Nayeon said loudly to Sehun.

“Pilati, oh! Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Sehun said directly at the male. Sehun scoffed, “No wonder.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” The tallest man with the deepest voice in the table, Kris, clapped his hands loudly to get everyone’s attention. “We’re having a good time here, a’right?”

Sehun took a deep breath and so did the man on the other side and looked at his woman. Sehun finished his drink with a bitter face.

“How ‘bout we make a toast, a’right? For a good life?” Kris raised his glass of champagne, and a lot followed him with their own variety of drinks. “A lot of us haven’t seen each other for a while. Let’s bury what’s in the past, and be grateful for what's now, you sons of billionaire bitches.” People at the table laughed, easing the tense atmosphere with Kris’s short speech.

“Cheers to that!” Shouted Lay.

“Cheers!” Most people exclaimed, Baekhyun did so timidly.  

Baekhyun totally ate his words about not drinking since people kept pouring his glass and yet he didn’t ever refuse a single shot. How could he? What power did he have to refuse such powerful people? Yuri was becoming louder after every shot and was becoming friendly with Lay, his girlfriend, and Kyungsoo.

“Yuri.” Baekhyun held Yuri’s waist from behind, feeling protective over her.

But Sehun then wrapped his arm around Baekhyun’s neck and pulled Baekhyun to him. His cologne was strong, and in the influence of alcohol, his cologne smelled stronger, amplifying all of his senses. Everyone started to look attractive, everyone started to sound funny. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Y-Yeah. Thanks for inviting us.” Baekhyun cleared his throat. “Why did you invite us anyway?”

Sehun released Baekhyun from his arms. “Why can’t you be just grateful, Baekhyun?”

“No, I’m grateful. Thank you, Mr. Oh.”

Sehun guffawed, slamming one hand at the table. “Mr. Oh.” He shook his head, still laughing, wiping a fake tear off of his eye. “You’re way too serious, man. Anyway,” he lightly slapped Baekhyun’s chest, “How was it?”

“How was what?”

Sehun glanced at Yuri, cocking his brows, then his eyes travelled back to Baekhyun. Baekhyun immediately understood. But before Baekhyun could speak, Sehun said, “Have you found your true colors?”

Baekhyun wasn’t expecting that type of question. “What do you mean?”

Sehun leaned closer to Baekhyun, “I mean whom did you enjoy more—me or her?”

“What?” Baekhyun’s eyes were wide in horror. “What type of question is that?”

“You’re always so defensive, you’re too obvious.”

“How am I defensive?”

However, Sehun changed the question, “So how did it feel like to be inside a woman? Great?”

Baekhyun evaluated his experience with Yuri. “Yeah, it’s not so bad.”

Sehun scoffed. “I know. Fuck,” he grunted, cocking his head, as if he’s suddenly turned on. Then he asked, “Did you make her cry?”

Baekhyun raised a brow. “Cry?”

Sehun patted Baekhyun’s thigh heavily. “You, my friend, are gifted. Unlike this motherfucker,” he quickly pointed a finger across the table, pointing to the male in black talking to his woman as if the couple were the only people in the world with their eyes glimmering at each other. “That needle dick, Jongin,” he hissed. Then he looked back at Baekhyun, “I feel sad for her. Really.”

“Maybe it’s not all about the size.”

Sehun howled. “Baekhyun, Baekhyun, Baekhyun. I know lots of people who would kneel for someone like you.”

“People?”

“Women… and men.”

Baekhyun’s face was in utter disgust. “What the fuck?”

“You’re not glad to hear that? It’s a huge compliment.”  He pulled his Juuls that he was holding to his mouth and inhaled a deep smoke. He offered the tiny, sleek e-cigarette to Baekhyun if he wanted a smoke but Baekhyun declined as Sehun puffed the smoke out of his mouth and hose. It smelled fruity. “You don’t want it? It keeps your head straight with all these booze.”

Sure, Baekhyun’s head was all over the place but he didn’t feel he needed the smoke.

Sehun then smirked at Baekhyun, “That face you’re wearing is certainly not the face you had when I was inside you.”

Baekhyun’s face went blank. How should he feel about that?

Sehun stood up from his seat, he didn’t seem he had a lot of drinks as he still could stand straight and button his suit. He then told Baekhyun, “Come with me.”

A/N: Real sorry for the slow (and super sloppy) updates :-( But do let me know your thoughts, send notes, it does make me remember that I have to update this. Thank you!

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Tunnel Caprica: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 (New!)

[jingabitch]

Not Enough ch.1

Summary: When Jin cheats on his girlfriend while on tour, it's the last straw for their already strained relationship.

Pairings: Jin x OC

Warnings: infidelity | angst | non-explicit sexual acts | breakup fic

A/N: wrote this a little while ago and had it on my ao3. There’s another chapter to this that is queued to go up next week, and I might write a little more for this if there’s a demand for it.

Chapter 2

Sangmi was back in her old apartment. She hadn’t even set foot in the place for months, had thought about terminating the lease since she’d all but moved in to Jin’s place by this point, but now she was glad she’d kept it. The familiarity of it was soothing, somehow. Being surrounded by all her old things, sitting on the couch and snuggled in the same blanket she’d had since college, was more comforting than she’d expected.

Dressed in the oversized varsity sweatshirt that was so worn by now the neckline stretched over her shoulder, she sipped the jasmine tea her mother had sent her. It was warm, slightly bitter, and very fragrant, and she closed her eyes as the steam tickled her nose slightly. She put the mug down and picked up the book that she’d been in the middle of the last time she’d been in her apartment. She didn’t know why, but she hadn’t brought it to his place then, and then she’d just forgotten about it.

She’d forgotten about a lot in the time that they’d been together. He had so rapidly become the center of her world, so consuming that everything else in her life had been pushed out. Meeting him in secret whenever he had a spare moment, coming into the studio at odd hours to make sure he’d eaten, worrying about whether he was taking good care of himself whenever he was away on tour… it had become her top priority.

Well, she thought, opening the book and finding the bookmark that her niece had made for her, no more of that. It was time for her to rediscover herself, as cheesy as it sounded. She was done being stupid for men. Now she would only make shitty decisions for herself.

Her phone vibrated on the coffee table, and after a quick glance at the caller ID, she ignored it. It stopped for a second, and she sighed in relief and disappointment, before starting again. Glaring at it, she silently willed it to shut up. Of course, if she’d had those powers in the first place she might not have ended up in this position, so the phone continued vibrating until it almost fell off the coffee table altogether. Growling, she swiped it up and set it to Do Not Disturb, turning it face down when she returned it to the table, then went back to her book. She was reading a particularly illuminating passage in Michelle Obama’s book about the importance of not getting too caught up in her own life plan, and felt a flash of irritation that she was being interrupted. Just like him to disregard whatever she was doing for his own selfish needs.

Jin sighed. He’d been trying to call her for hours now, and she wasn’t picking up.

“Hyung, give it up. You should leave her alone for a bit, give her some time to cool off,” Namjoon, ever the coolheaded one, advised.

Jin just shook his head. He knew that if he didn’t get through to her before she cooled off, he would never be able to fix it. No one was more scary than his girlfriend after she was angry, when all the rage and tears cooled into contempt, and she wouldn’t even listen to whatever apologies the poor person who upset her offered. It was like all emotion vanished and all there was left was calculated nonchalance.

Hell, it might already be too late.

Jungkook looked over at Jin, but didn’t say anything. He was still furious over what had happened. At the afterparty following their last performance of the tour, Jin had gotten way too drunk over a silly spat that he’d had with his girlfriend, and in his anger, had hooked up with a girl at the party. Somehow pictures of them grinding at the club, then making out at the alley behind the club, had leaked out, and that was how she’d found out about it. From the fucking tabloids.

Sangmi was a literal angel, and she didn’t deserve this. She’d been with Jin since his university days. A year younger than him, they’d been an unlikely couple from the start, with him majoring in film and acting and herself pursuing a double degree in political science and economics, yet they’d been practically inseparable since they’d met at the campus coffee joint, where he was hanging out with her senior from the touch football team and she’d gone to say hi while grabbing a coffee to fuel her last desperate attempts to get a good grade on her paper. (She’d ended up getting an A.)

She was almost like a mother to the other members, especially Jungkook, the youngest, who’d only been a child when she met him. She’d taken him under her wing, brought him food whenever she came to visit, and always let him cry on her shoulder when he missed home. And now, after tolerating Kim Seokjin’s stupid ass for six years, this was what she got in return. He wondered if he would ever see her again, but decided that he’d understand if he didn’t. She deserved to move on with her life, after all.

Three days later

SM: Cut it out.

J: Please, baby, don’t.

SM: Seriously, stop. The roses are cluttering up my desk, and my colleagues are asking questions.

J: Will you accept my apology then?

SM: There’s nothing to apologize for.

Jin winced at the simple reply. If there was nothing to apologize for, that meant that they were no longer in a relationship. She’d never been the kind of person to hold on to anger. Instead, she simply wrote the person off, dismissed them altogether from her life. He’d always thought her anger was the worst thing he could encounter, when she screamed and cried herself to pieces, but at least then she’d cared enough to have an emotional reaction. This casual, nonchalant reaction was worse, like he was just someone who’d bumped into her by accident on the street.

J: Baby, please let me explain.

There was no response.

Two weeks later

Sangmi made her way up the stairs of her walkup apartment unsteadily, tipsy at the end of the night. Her colleagues had invited her for their usual Friday night festivities, which had included karaoke on this particular night. She’d never joined them before, because Friday was usually one of the only nights of the week that Jin had free so she’d saved the night for him, but she was glad that she’d agreed to join them. It had been a hell of a time; she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d gone for karaoke.

The past two weeks had been spent reconnecting with friends, rekindling old relationships that had somehow fallen by the wayside while she’d been with Jin. It wasn’t like she’d disappeared from her friends’ lives, but Jin had been her priority for so long, and her schedule had revolved around his. There had been so many birthdays and celebrations that she’d missed because they’d fallen on one of the rare free days he’d had, plans she’d cancelled because he’d suddenly become available and she didn’t know when she’d next be able to spend time with him.

Even living in his apartment, there had been days when all she saw of him were the dent in his pillow, the missing food in the fridge, and his clothes in the laundry hamper. It was like being in a relationship with a ghost sometimes.

Rounding the corner at the top of the stairs, she stopped short in surprise. Jin was sitting in front of her door, leaning against the wall, his tall frame looking cramped in the narrow hallway. He was on his phone, and when he heard her approach, he looked up at her and scrambled to stand up, tucking his phone in his pocket.

“Hey,” he breathed. He’d had speeches prepared, entire monologues where he poured his heart out to her and begged her to stay, but standing in front of her now he forgot them all.

She nodded at the door behind him. “I have to unlock the door,” she said quietly.

“Right, right,” he said, jumping out of the way nervously.

Sangmi unlocked the door and walked in, not turning to usher him in but not locking the door in his face either. She started taking off her shoes, her back still facing him.

“Well?” she asked when he just stared at her. “In or out?”

Jin hastily stepped into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. Sangmi went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, then turned to face him, leaning her hip against the counter.

“You’re here because…?” she prompted when it didn’t look like he was going to say anything.

Jin hesitated. Now that he was looking at her, he didn’t really know what to say. She looked amazing, better than he’d seen her in a long time. She’d faded so slowly that he hadn’t seen it at the time, the vibrant and cheerful freshman he’d first fallen in love with gradually becoming dull and colourless. Her cheeks were flushed from the alcohol and even though she was solemn and quiet now, her eyes sparkled mischievously in a way that he barely remembered.

“Mi, baby, I’m sorry.” The words tumbled out of him.

Sangmi refilled her glass and then walked over to the couch. Ever the consummate hostess, it wasn’t lost on him that she didn’t bother offering him anything to drink. “What are you sorry for, exactly?” she asked, reclining on the couch as she regarded him steadily. “For being imprudent and getting caught? For not warning me before the pictures were leaked?”

He was taken aback by how calmly she was discussing his infidelity. “No, I meant -” he tried to explain, but she cut him off.

“Are you sorry that you cheated on me?”

Hearing her express his transgression in such blunt terms made him cringe, but he nodded, suddenly unable to look her in the eye.

“This one time, or are you apologizing for all the times before that the media didn’t catch too?”

His jaw dropped as his eyes jerked up towards her, her brow raised but otherwise calm. “You… you knew?” he sputtered.

Sangmi smiled at him sadly. “Come sit,” she invited, patting the couch next to her, and he drifted over obediently, still in shock. When he sat down, she rested her arm on the backrest, her chin resting on her hand, and looked at him.

“Of course I knew,” she said with a quiet smile. “Who do you think washed all the perfume and lipstick from your clothes?”

His mouth worked, but no words came out.

She rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic,” she said. “Of course I knew. You’re away for months at a time; it would have been too much to expect you to remain faithful. I know you, remember?” She reached out and stroked his face with her thumb.

“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t like it. It would have been nice to be the only one, you know? But we’re apart for the majority of the time these days, and we both have our own ways of coping,” she said, with the ghost of a smile. “That’s why you left a string of broken hearts in every city you were in, and I have a collection of sex toys that’s way too large for a woman who’s been in a six-year relationship,” she cracked.

Jin didn’t laugh. “Then why did you -”

“Stay with you?” She shrugged. “Because I love you. Because I thought this would be temporary, that we could still eventually have the kind of relationship, the kind of life together that I want.”

“Then what changed?”

Sangmi hummed thoughtfully. “I think this incident was more of a tipping point rather than a dealbreaker event. When we were in college, it was fine keeping our relationship as is, you know? Like, marriage and settling down and all that stuff - it was all future stuff, to be sorted out at a later date. But now that I’m working, and - oh, by the way, I was assigned to that big project, did I mention to you? - people around me are settling down, it feels like something we need to think about, and I don’t think it’s working anymore.

“Jin-oppa, I love you.” She leaned in and held his face, the precious face she’d loved for so long, that girls all across the world had fallen for, for perhaps the last time. “But love isn’t enough for a long-term relationship. I want to be with someone I can be with , you know? Who I can come home to at night, tell about my day, have regular sex with, and not have to think about who else he slept with while I wasn’t there. I want to get married and have a boring relationship, walk out on the street holding hands with like I’m not a dirty, career-ending secret, and have Netflix binges with while in my glasses and sweatpants. And that’s something you’ll never be able to offer me.”

He looked like he was about to object, so she pressed her thumb lightly against his lips so he couldn’t speak. “Don’t offer things you know you’ll never be able to follow through on. You won’t, and shouldn’t, quit BTS for me. I know how much you love it, and I would never ask you to make such a huge sacrifice for me. You should live your life on your terms, but I should be allowed to live the same way too, and more and more these days, it looks like we can’t do that and be together.”

She smiled, forcing back a sob, and then she was suddenly in his lap, hugging him tight, and out of habit his arms wrapped themselves around her too. “I love you,” he whispered, the words suddenly feeling woefully inadequate. He’d never felt more selfish, hadn’t realised the toll that their relationship had taken on her. She’d always been the rock in the relationship, the one who had been there for him no matter what, who’d held him as he cried after messing up on stage and let him fuck her silly in the bathrooms at award shows when they’d won. He realised that he couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone out at night without him and returned a giggling, pink-cheeked ball of fluff like she’d been before they’d become official, like she’d been tonight before she saw him.

And he knew, more than anything, that he had to let her go, that his love alone wasn’t enough to sustain her.

Sangmi stroked his hair as he buried his face in the crook where her shoulder met her neck and breathed in, the perfume he’d bought her at an airport once that had become her signature scent blending with the smell of the liquor she’d consumed and the scent of her . “I met you when the world was full of possibilities, and we didn’t know who we were. Remember?” she asked with a smile in her voice. “How we thought we could be anything, take on any challenge the world threw at us?”

But then they had become something incompatible. Him, the jetsetting idol who captured fans’ hearts with his worldwide handsome face, and her, the management consultant in a big 4 firm who could strike fear into the hearts of colleagues, subordinates and clients with a raised brow. She needed more than he could give her now, and possibly ever.

He turned and kissed her, desperately, knowing that this might well be the last time he ever did. To his surprise, she kissed him back just as ardently, her arms tightening around him as she pulled him closer.

Pulling back slightly to take a breath, she leaned her forehead against his. “One more for the road?” she asked, giggling as she ground down against him slightly.

That was all he needed to hear. He immediately picked her up and made his way to the bed, with her clinging on to him as she marked his neck the way she knew he liked. It wasn’t what he wanted from her, but maybe it would be enough. It had to be, he thought as he set her down on the bed and she immediately attacked the buttons on his shirt. He would be satisfied with this, he swore to himself. If it was what made her happy.

[headoverhiddles]

Matrimony - Pope x Reader (Let Me Make You A Martyr) [Part II]

Synopsis: Tensions rise with Pope, but you both have a common goal. Or, you believe it to be common. 

Notes: Second part of three! Enjoy loves. 

Tagging: (ask to be added) @peachynun​ @elrosew​ @livelifewondering​

PART I 

PART III

You wake to the sound of your alarm. 5:30 am.

You get out of bed, and pull on your jogging clothes. A run should clear your head. On the way down, you sneak one more look into Pope's bedroom. You can't see much through the dark, but the bed looks empty. He must be downstairs skulking around somewhere, unless he enjoys a nice refreshing jog before the sun comes up... which you doubt. 

Out on the path, the sun starts to rise through the pine trees. You jog along the road that you arrived on, smart enough not to jog in the direction of Pierce's cabin alone. Slipping your earbuds in, you listen to Marilyn Manson's Odds of Even, the thunk of the beat in time with your steps.  

You’re not thinking about Pope that way. You’re just interested in him. Interested in the idea of him. He’s an interesting man! Who... you’re interested in. 

So, you've got feelings for Pope.

Not feelings, per say, but... an intrigue. And there's definitely a physical attraction there, though you can't tell if he returns it. Probably not. Sex and romance probably weren't even blips on his radar. All he probably thinks about is killing people, disposing of their corpses swiftly and without hassle, and jacking off when and if he feels lonely.

You bite your lip. Damn, that's hot to imagine. Why do you always fall for people who either hate you, want to kill you, or just plain aren't nice? 

If you even mess up a little on this hit though, he'll kill you. Literally. He will not hesitate to take you out as well if you fuck up. But you're not going to fuck up. You may not be a hitman, but you deal with creeps like Daegland Pierce all the time in your job. You know how they think, and that's an advantage Pope doesn't have.

You return to the cabin, breathing heavily. A thin sheen of sweat covers you, and you look around. Isn't there a river somewhere near here?

You approach the rushing brook, grateful for the already cool mist rising from it. You peel off your top and bra, and do the same for your shorts and panties. There's no one out here in the brush, so you don't have to worry about that.

You toss your stuff on a nearby log, and get into the stream. Oh yeah. Yeah. That's nice. You float for a moment, staring up at the sky and listening to the birds. Then you hear another noise. A much closer noise.

You get your ears out of the water, and listen... then you nearly drown in fear as you hear a loud thwack right behind you. Whipping around, you turn to see--

"Holy shit!" you scream.

"Morning," Pope says. He brings an axe down on another piece of wood.

"I'm...! Oh my god, you didn't say anything, you--"

"Well," he pushes up his glasses, "I figured I wouldn't bother you in your morning activities, and you won't bother me in mine." He gestures to you with the handle of his axe. "You do have some pretty tits, though."

"Jesus fuck," you whisper, covering your chest. "Don't... look!" Pope shrugs, and goes back to splitting wood. "Why are you even out here?!" you demand, trying to swim back to the shore inconspicuously. 

"I'm sorry, is this restricted land? Do I require a fuckin’ permit?"

"You-- just, what are you doing?!"

"It's cold at night here," he mutters, "And any sensible person would seek warmth during the dark hours."

"Excuse me?!"

"You're excused, you know I don't mean whoring around with you."

"Right. If I came into your bedroom at night, opened up my bra and sat on the edge of your bed, you'd tell me to fuck off?"

Pope smirks. "Aww. Princess doesn't like the thought of that, does she?" You gasp, crossing your arms. You stop crossing your arms when it's apparent that just makes your boobs look even better. "Look, kid. Unlike you, I didn't come out here to screw around. I came here to kill a motherfucker, and get paid. That's what I do, that's what I intend to do."

It's futile arguing with him, and any headway you made tolerating each other last night at dinner (however small) had now been wiped clean. You'd show your worth on your own-- and you've got nothing to prove. Not much, anyway. There is zero part of you that wants any validation from Pope at all. Or praise. Or a... a "good girl." A "good... good little girl... yeah, babygirl, just like that..."

Shit.

---

"Do not make one wrong step. He can't know we're here."

You follow closely behind Pope, trying to get his attention.

"Hey. Hey! Why are we doing this now? Why don't we wait until--?"

"You have to get to know everything about a person's environment before you kill them. You need to know any possible traps they've set up, any kind of security or backup they've hid up their ass."

"B--"

"Stop speaking, no speaking. Shh. For once, shhh." He holds up a hand, then when he's sure the coast is clear, he beckons. "Follow me."

You do. He points to the other side of the house, but you're already ahead of him, back to the painted wooden panels. It's a better looking cabin than yours, obviously furnished and newly renovated with millions of dollars in dope cash that should've gone to home growers like the business you work for.

You snake around the back of the house, and check the window. It's cracked open an inch. Looking around, you push it open a bit farther, and carefully, ever so silently, you climb in. Pope is already in the house, in the living room. He's got his back pressed to the wall, and his head tilted to look up the stairs.

You're about to turn to check the kitchen, when you feel something in your back. You turn slowly, preparing to meet the barrel of a gun and your untimely demise, but you just find the end of a dirty wooden spoon in a soapy pot.

"Oh," you breathe, putting a hand on your chest. You hear a gun cock at the back of your head.

"What the fuck you doing in my house?" You look behind you, and maneuver around. It's him. It's Daeg. And he's in his bathrobe.

"Hi!" you suddenly say, the first thing popping into your head the option you're going with. "You must be the neighbor!"

"What?" Pierce growls.

You wave to Pope, who's staring at you with some mix of contempt and confusion. "Honey, come here!"

"What the...?" Pierce mutters, and points the gun at Pope as he reluctantly walks over to join you. "Who are you people?!" 

"We just moved into the cabin next to yours! We're Mr. and Mrs... Warner!" You pick a name off the top of your head. You grab Pope's hand, and the death grip you get back tells you he's not in support of this tactic. But, there's no going back now.

"Yeah," he grumbles, "This is my wife. Ain’t she a sweet little piece of ass?"

You give a giggle for good measure, tightening your grip on his hand in warning, and this guy looks so utterly dumbfounded, it's hard not to laugh.

"I'm gonna ask you this again, you stupid shits. What the FUCK are you doing in my HOUSE?!"

"Looking for sugar," you say.

Pope falls into his role. "Yeah. My wife here was... baking."

"I tried to tell him he gets enough sugar at home, but he wouldn't listen, the scoundrel!" You slap him lightly on the arm.

"Well. Just can't get enough of the girl. But that river flows both ways, don't it?"

You shudder slightly, but keep your smile up. Then it hits you. Ingredients... baking! You know just how you can get put of here without an ass full of this guy’s buckshot!

"Now, the reason we found your place, was..." you move in a little closer to Pierce, "I was looking for a certain kind of ingredient. If you know what I mean."

The man's demeanor changes. He looks around, tucks his gun. "How do y'all know about that?"

You wink. "I know lots of things."

"Now, sweetheart." Pope tugs you back, a little too roughly. "Remember to be modest. At least for my sake." His hand travels down to your ass, and you bite your lip.

"Of course, honey. Of course."

Is he getting a little too into his role?

---

You both can't believe you were able to make nice with Pierce long enough to get out of his house. It was a life-saving idea, but it also posed a problem. The two of you had been invited back for dinner the next night, to supposedly buy some of his ‘stock’.

"It's perfect! That's when we kill him!" you hiss, as Pope walks ahead of you through the bramble.

"The tone of this whole thing is fucked up. It’s not right. This isn't how things work."

"What, not used to having a fake wife along for the hit? A little imagination can save your life."

"Don't talk to me about life," he mutters, "I'm ready to end yours."

"Yeah. Fine. Threaten to kill me."

"Oh, I'm not just threatening."

"At least we didn't get shot to bits by the most notorious drug dealer in the American midwest."

"I do things my way," he replies calmly, "I don't need a little brat like you telling me how it's gonna be." You ball your fists and beat against a tree. He's infuriating!

"Will you at least show me how to cut the wood you were chopping this morning? You're right, we should stock up." He looks back at you, that same indifferent expression back on his face.

"You chose to come out here and bother me. Make yourself scarce, or I swear to God or whatever the fuck, I'll drive you out to the middle of the woods and leave you for the wolves."

With that, he walks inside, screen door banging.

You sit down on a log by the car. After a minute, you get up, start the car with the keys on the seat, and turn the radio up.

More honkey tonk wailing. Whatever. Maybe country was good for the soul, and all that.

You lay down on the log, and watch the forest flora sway around you as Hank Williams croons through the open air.

 ---

You open your eyes. It's dark out.

The car radio is still going, and you're not sure quite what time it is.

You hear footsteps behind you, and look up to see Pope walking over to the car. You sigh, rubbing your eyes and waiting for his complaints. "Sorry," you murmur, "I should've turned it off before I--"

"It's fine," he cuts you off curtly, and you give up trying to explain yourself, waiting for him to disappear again. This was such a mistake. Coming out here with him, wanting to be a part of this. You wanted to see the job done, sure, but maybe you are out of your depth. Christ, the guy is an expert sharpshooter, with the lack of mercy of a navy seal and the personality of a hermit. It's time to give up.

You look up again when you don't hear the door close. He pauses, walks over to you, and sits down. He takes his cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, puts one in his mouth, and lights it. He tilts his head up to look at the stars, and takes his glasses off, setting them down beside him.

"C'mere," he whispers. You sit up, frowning, and follow his line of sight. You inch closer to him in confusion, and settle in next to him to watch the sky too. He takes another drag of his cigarette, the embers glowing in the low light. You find the scent of him, along with his presence out here, comforting.

The night bugs grow in volume around you, and soon, you begin to hear coyotes in the distance.

"They're beautiful," you murmur. He hums.

"They’re dangerous."

"Like someone else I know," you whisper. If he hears you, he doesn't let on. He just exhales smoke toward the sky, and listens to the noises of the night. His voice, low and gravelly, rises above the sounds.

"You ever heard of a Wendigo, kid?"

"No," you tell him.

"It's an old legend my grandfather told me. He says there are skinwalkers out here in the forest. They can shapeshift, take the form of whatever they want. Animals, people. Strangely odd. Just a little too odd to be considered human."

"You think those coyotes are skinwalkers?" you ask softly. 

"Nah. The only things here pretending to be something they're not are you, and me."  

---

You wake up in bed, not quite certain how you got there. It's still nighttime... you don't know exactly what time it is, but you don't want to reach for your phone. You stare out the window for a minute, and frown. The scenery outside doesn't look quite right, like it’s too foggy to see. 

There's a slight creak in one of the floorboards, and you see a shadow eclipse the dim lantern light from the hallway.

You roll over in bed, and see Pope standing by the door. He hasn't got his glasses on, and his hair looks a little messed up, as if he's been sleeping.

"What is it?" you mumble, trying to sit up, "Something with Pierce? Did he... is everything okay?" Confusion fills you as he walks toward you, but it's replaced by desire with every step closer he takes. He looks like he's been kept awake by something. "Pope?"

"Shh." He sits down, making an indent in the comforter. "I want you, sweetheart."

You breathe out, and after a second, you lean forward slowly. He meets you halfway, reinforcing the kiss, and you moan softly against his lips. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he lays you down, resuming the kissing once he's got you against the pillows. "Couldn't get you outta my mind," he whispers, "Couldn't get this... outta my head."

"This feels strange," you murmur, "You hate me."

He doesn't respond, just moves a hand down beneath the covers to stroke between your legs. An exhaled prayer of his name falls from your lips, and he presses a kiss to your chest, tongue swiping out every so slightly. You look down at him again, and reach out, starting to unbutton his shirt, all the way down. With each button, more tattoos are revealed, even though they appear blurry to you, as if your mind is trying to fill them in for you. Must be the dark.

"You're so fucking sexy," he whispers, and pushes your panties aside.

"Please," you beg.

"Let me give you what you need, baby girl. That's it." He looks into your eyes with his own dark orbs. "Trust me now?"

Your chest rises and falls quicker as he adds another finger, rolling your clit with his thumb as he pumps in and out. He's making soft noises as he does, grinding his erection into your thigh on the bed. You start to gasp as you feel your orgasm coming on.

"I'm... P... Pope, oh god, I'm... c-c--"

He strokes you just right with those rough fingers, and just as you come undone, your eyes open.

Pope is gone. You're alone, in bed. You stare at the headboard, realizing you're on your stomach. Shit, you've been grinding into the mattress. You regain a little more consciousness, the events of your dream all fresh in your mind.

 Giving a disoriented moan, you flip over, lying on your back. Your hips wiggle, and you tug down your panties, dipping your own fingers into your soaking wet heat. You didn't think he had this kind of effect on you.

You moan to yourself softly as you quickly curl your fingers in a hurried motion, hips arching slightly. Yeah... yeah, like that. You gasp, and finally cum hard thinking of Pope on top of you like that, kissing you, touching your body, sending you over the edge.

You come down to earth, head spinning in the cold, dark bedroom. You can hear soft snores from the other room. He must have brought you upstairs and put you in your bed before turning in. If any of that outside was real. What if that was part of the dream?

No. You can still smell the faint scent of Pope's lingering cigarette smoke on your jacket, which is still on. You shake your head, taking it off and tossing it on a chair across the room. All you need is a good night's rest.

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

Top 10 Saddest Anime Deaths

Yeah I’m seriously doing this.

This should go without saying but…

Major spoilers!

Anyway let’s just get started.

10. Eugeo

Honestly Eugeo’s death is one where I don’t really think the actual events that transpired were all that sad, Eugeo turning into a giant fuck off sword is after all quite goofy, especially for what’s otherwise the most serious season of SAO so far. But it’s more so sad because Eugeo’s character is probably the best SAO has on offer and he felt like he left way too soon for me – like his main competition is Yuuki who died at literally the perfect time, meanwhile Eugeo’s life is cut short so soon. His little post-death monologue about Kirito and Alice is sweet at least, but like, fuck man I wanted more of him.

9. Danny MacBean

Woah hold on this minor character who’s in one episode of Princess Principal is on the list? Yeah dude. Danny’s a pretty shit person who hasn’t managed to really be the best for his dead wife or his daughter, Dorothy, however like, it’s clear that Dorothy doesn’t really hold contempt for the man, and as we see their relationship start to repair itself and get to see Danny genuinely happy and stuff, you sorta start to feel for the guy. Like fuck yeah dude, go off, restore your family, be happy for once! And then it’s over all too quickly because fuckin Gazelle has to come kill him, like smh let the dude redeem himself.

8. Kamina

Kamina is another one like Eugeo in that the context of his death isn’t even that sad, not because of anything goofy or anything like that, but it’s not really sad because you know it needs to and is going to happen, and rather than be a death that’s super sad in the moment it’s sorta just, I mean idk it’s resonant for some reason. But the main way in which his death is sad in how his absence affects the narrative past that – despite Kamina being literally dead his presence can be felt for the rest of the entire show, and especially immediately after he does die, the visuals strongly communicate the despair brought onto everyone else by his death, it’s super fuckin, like we knew he’d die and it’d be sad but they do such an amazing job selling you on how it affects everyone else. Kamina’s so good.

7. Korosensei

Yet another one of those inevitability deaths, AssClass is built with Korosensei’s death as the key goal, and even though they call into question whether they really should do that, I mean like, they fuckin obviously will, and they do, and it’s pretty depressing seeing this loveable dude we’ve spent like 50 episodes with who’s had such a huge impact on all these kids in the class just like, die, and seeing him call out the register and stuff, argh, it’s pretty depressing yo.

6. Askeladd

Yet another inevitability death, though unlike Korosensei, Askeladd doesn’t go out in the way you obviously expect him to. Instead, he uses his last moments to go out like such a fucking hyper mega chad, killing the motherfucker king that we’re all terrified of and need to die, and using that as an opportunity to give Canute, whom he places so much faith in, the chance to kill Askeladd itself. It’s literally the most ride and die thing ever, dude literally kills himself and erases his chance to see what he wants to see, just because by dying he can at least increase the chance of that thing happening, whether or not he’s there to see it. And Thorfinn’s rage at the whole thing too, fuck this kid’s gonna be broken even more. Great death.

5. Caesar Zeppeli

SHIIIIIIIIIIIZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Poor boy, he did so fucking well in his last moments, everything was going his way and it was the coolest fucking thing ever, one of the best JoBros of all time getting ready to kill one of the best non-main antagonists in JoJo. And that one tiny slip-up cost him it all, but he still gets to blubble (blood bubble) before he goes and fuckin it gets respected because he’s such a great warrior, argh it’s so good. Fuck dude. Other than Eugeo he’s probably the character on this list that I most wish had lived, because as good and perfect and shit as his death was, seeing him be a funny gilf with Joseph in Stardust Crusaders would’ve been class.

4. Vegeta

So the thing is, it’s Dragon Ball, we all know he’ll be fine, no matter how much Piccolo is like “you’re not gonna be fine”. But regardless of the aftermath, in that moment, where Vegeta decides to sacrifice himself, where his character arc comes to the ultimate conclusion, it’s just such a fucking, like fuck dude, what can I say other than seeing the man move past himself, become the best damn Vegeta there ever was, it’s so sick. “Goodbye Bulma, Trunks, Kakarot” is such a great line. Fuck dude. Favourite character honestly. Actually that’s Future Trunks but, yeah.

3. Maes Hughes

Idk what you even expect me to say about this one. It’s fuckin Maes Hughes, we’ve all seen it, we all know it’s depressing as fuck, we all know he’s so fucking great in the moment of his death and that it hurts so much, fuckin he’s such a wonderful and just all around lovely dude, hearing his actual 5 year old daughter be like “why are they burying daddy? He still has work to do” is so heart wrenching, and fucking Roy’s “it’s raining”, like fuck!!!!!!! Literally crying writing this lol.

2. Mitty

Speaking of very cry-worthy deaths, Mitty. I think, there isn’t loads about Mitty’s character for the audience to get attached to, but the reasons Nanachi’s attached to her are very clear, and seeing them so desperately work towards putting Nanachi out of an eternity of misery is like, absolutely heart-breaking. And the solution of Reg’s laser, it’s so beautifully horrific, we’re going to put Mitty down in the most humane, and in fact only way possible – with a mega fucking laser beam of ultimate hyperdeath and destruction that’ll completely and utterly eviscerate her. And that’s already really sad, but the fuckin, Mitty’s little picnic of plushies that she goes out with, that just makes it hurt even more. And where it gets the most just fucking, I am actually drowning in my own tears right now, is when Nanachi interrupts the whole process to just run over to Mitty and apologise. If you’ve seen the scene, you know. You just, you just fuckin know. Fuck dude :(

1. Sayaka Miki

She do be stupid, so stupid tho. Sayaka’s witchification is the culmination of literally the best negative character arc I have ever seen bar fucking none. It is absolutely tragic seeing everything this girl worked so hard for, everything she idealised, come to work against her, because she didn’t see the weaknesses, the problems, she didn’t learn, she wasn’t told, she was forced to be exposed to a system designed to hurt her and her own vision was so clouded by her unrealistic ideals that she couldn’t understand when she was being helped. And that witchification is such a powerful plot twist as well that recontextualises a lot of the events in the show and just, fucking hell Sayaka’s death is so genius, the execution is completely perfect. Madoka Magica do be my favourite piece of literature ever tho.

Anyway done.

[mysweetestcreature]

Tomorrow Never Knows (President!Harry) Chapter 10: Not a Bad Thing

(Banner by the wonderful noblewomankat!)

***

Monday November 24, 2008

It’s been days since they’ve had a normal conversation...or any decent form of communication for the matter. This past week had consisted of multiple attempts (on her part) to talk to him, but each time he’d make up some excuse to cut all dialogue short. “My mum’s waiting for me outside, maybe next time?” or “I’m actually late for practice, but I’ll catch up with you later,” but of course he never did. Beyond her comprehension is how she had managed to mess everything up so badly in so little time. 

Eleven minutes. 

Harry had arrived eleven minutes after she had accepted Jasper’s invitation. There’s nothing she can say that can justify why she’d done it because even she isn’t so sure. Maybe she was scared. She’d been so hopeful about where this friendship with him would lead them once before, and it had costed her the first heartbreak of her life. The biggest part of her wanted so badly to wait for Harry to ask her, but a small yet seemingly influential nerve had let her insecurities take over. 

She wishes she hadn’t cared so much about what other people had thought, and instead used her own judgement. She hadn’t realized just how difficult it would be for their roles to be reversed, and she only has herself to blame for it.

“I wish you’d stop stressing,” Cici tells her as they do their warmup stretches. “I doubt he’ll be able to stay mad at you for much longer.”  

“You might be wrong for once,” she smiles sadly, facing down to stare numbly ahead as she reaches for her toes. 

Once she and Harry had parted (or more accurately, when Harry had left her standing ashamed in the hallway), Cici had found her sitting on the floor beside her locker, a somber expression painted all over her face.  

“I messed up,” is all she had mustered up in that moment of fragility, dejected eyes having fallen into her lap. And Cici –– who had already passed an equally, if not more, crestfallen boy on her way to find Y/n –– was readily equipped with her words of enthusiasm, even if she was quite disappointed in the turnout of the day. “You made one mistake –– it doesn’t make you a bad person.” Doesn’t it, though? 

Cici scoffs as she tightens her ponytail. “I am many things, but I am never wrong,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone –– almost arrogantly, if you ask Y/n –– before standing up and brushing the wrinkles from her skirt. “It’s not in my vocabulary.”

“But it’s in mine, apparently,” her lips curve down. 

“I didn’t mean it like–”

“I know.” She rises to her feet. “It was a stupid decision and I wish I could redo it, but I can’t now. He can barely stand to be in the same room as me for more than a class period. He hasn’t dropped by the Home Ec. Room in who knows how long, and I haven’t been able to make a decent pumpkin pie since. Me? Screw up a pie? That doesn’t happen! This weekend I typed out twenty-seven texts that I never sent. Twenty-seven, Cici! Who does something like that?! All saying the same thing, that I like him so much that it makes my heart go crazy, and how it hurts that he might think otherwise because I’m going to this stupid dance with someone who’s not Harry and it fucking sucks!”

It leaves her chest to heave heavily, and her lungs to feel completely depleted of any oxygen. With an outburst like that, she’s managed to surprise herself. And while conversations amongst the other cheerleaders continue, it feels like she’s once again in the spotlight as the heat creeps up her neck and settles on her forehead and the apples of her cheeks. 

Cici stands in front of her, eyes rounded in astonishment and mouth hung open wide. Her eyes quickly dart down at her arm. 

“You’ve never cussed before, I literally just got chills!”

A smile slowly reemerges. “It felt good,” she admits, and she breathes out in relief as her shoulders feel lifted from at least a portion of the weight that had been set upon them. “I’ve been holding that one in.”

“No, that was totally clear.”

A restful silence falls upon them, and Y/n makes it an opportunity to reflect on the upcoming days. She needs to fix this and salvage whatever she can before they permanently fall apart. Hating to sound dramatic, but she has a strong feeling that if they can’t recover from this, then it could be over for good. 

And that’s just not in the cards.

“I’m going to tell him.”

***

Tuesday November 25, 2008

“Got any plans for Thanksgiving?” Maxxie asks him.

Harry lets out a heavy sigh, staring down at his jumbled pile of flashcards on his desk. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about it constantly because it had been toying with his mind for the better part of the weekend. “You could say that, I guess.”

The answer, in all its vague glory brings about an amused grin from the boy across from him. Maxxie leans over the table and goes as far to lift his hips off the chair just invade his personal space. “What was that tone?” he gawks, wiping the cards off the surface of the table.

“Well...” he starts off timidly (a bit of annoyance mixed in because he’s going to have to clean up the mess later), and a small burp erupts from the back of his throat as a sign of his mild discomfort. “I was sort of...maybe...actually invited to...” but the tail of the sentence is nearly undecipherable to the human ear. 

Maxxie squints his blue eyes across from him. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch all of it.”

Blowing out the air from his lungs, Harry’s head falls back so all he has to focus on are the dull cracks in the ceiling. Part of him still doesn’t believe it, or rather hadn’t thought it an admissible option given the recent events. He pokes his inner cheek outwards before letting out a tired groan. “We’re spending it with Y/n’s family, okay? There, I said it.”

“You’re bluffing!” 

Harry whistles out a breath. “Not today, mate,” he chortles, rubbing the base of his palm against his left eye. “Jeremy literally asked my mum the day after...well, you know.”

“Are you going to be able to manage it?” there’s a weariness in Maxxie’s voice.

But honestly, Harry doesn’t know. Yes, he’s still broken up about the whole thing. Yet, the hardest part is being next to her and feeling as though he’s missed every chance that he’s had at being hers. Because he’s sure it’ll take him a long time before he’s over her, and that’s what hurts the most.

***

On Day 6, Pattern D finds itself at ten in the morning, the third class of the Tuesday before Thanksgiving break. To Y/n it’ll be the first class she has with Harry, meaning another chance to get things straightened out between them. Now that their positions are reversed, she feels even worse about having treated him so harshly the month before when there had been a hefty cloak of uncertainty to keep things understandably complicated. 

Just as Mr. Daughtry’s door comes into sight, her path is intercepted by a body suddenly appearing before her.   

“Hey, you!” Jasper greets her with a bright grin. There’s a moment of clumsiness when she predicts his fluid movements based on how his arm extends and fingers point in her direction as they rise to the height of her shoulder. In a slight panic, she twists arounds, pretending to fish for a pencil from the side pouch of her backpack. Luckily (for him) he’s able to stop himself from proceeding, and he shrugs the action off as he stretches that same arm over his head. With a skittish laugh he continues. “I feel like I haven’t seen much of you this week.”

“I’ve just been busy,” she mumbles, hugging her grey math notebook close to her chin. She can’t help but wonder if he isn’t late to some class, or club meeting, or some discussion about hair accessories (the latter causes her to snigger to herself). 

Jasper simply nods, pulling slightly on the knot of his tie. “So, I told my mom about the formal and she’s super stoked that we’re going together,” he blushes. “I mean, I’m really happy you said yes.”

Meanwhile, the metallic taste of blood starts to fill her mouth the longer she keeps her tongue trapped between her teeth. “Yeah...” she struggles to find her voice. The right thing to do would be to come clean, to be straightforward with him and give him the honest answer he had deserved from the beginning. 

Blowing the air from her nostrils, she parts her lips as they wrap around the words. “Jasper, I actually need to talk to you about that...”

“Karan! What’s up, man?” 

She forces an unbothered appearance in front of Jasper’s friend –– Karan –– as they start a whole conversation of their own. 

This is something she’s found to dislike very much, how Jasper always seems to forget that his friends aren’t her friends...well, at least none that she particularly like enough to call by such an intimate name. It bothers her because she doesn’t know if she can walk away or if this boy has any intention of including her or even continuing with what they’d started only minutes before. 

She taps her foot contempt, not even caring if either find her actions to be tactless. All Jasper does is shoot half a smile before carrying on talking about the latest scandal to hit the tenth grade. 

“I should really get to class,” she meddles in the momentary pause between speakers. “See you around.” 

Before Jasper can send her off with a proper goodbye, she turns around and keeps en route for the classroom. As soon as she’s about to cross under the arch, she collides with another body, notebook falling from her hands and falling open-faced on the floor. 

“’m sorry,” the other rushes out, his voice all too recognizable to her ears. Harry quickly picks up the notebook and holds it out for her to take, but all she notices is how his eyes remain low and unwilling to look at her. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. He gives her a nod in response before signaling for her to go enter ahead of him. But she stays in glued in place. “Do you think we can...”

“There might be a pop quiz, I heard,” he interrupts, his hand finding the small of her back to gently prod her into the room. Despite it being nothing more than a graze of his fingers over her sweater, she still feels jolts of electricity run up her spine and tickle the back of neck. 

With their arrival being just a minute or so before roll call, the only available seats are towards the very rear, two desks grouped together and pushed in the far-right corner of the room. His hand falls back to his side, the absence of his touch leaving her colder than she had just been. It makes her frown, and as they make their way to the back, the space between them only grows. 

For her, this has to be the most difficult consequence to deal with. 

“Alright, since everyone is settled in,” Mr. Daughtry starts, uncapping a blue dry erase marker. “Let’s go over last night’s homework.” And he ponders down at the reference notes on the podium, before the shrill squeaks of the marker against the whiteboard slowly begin to reveal an equation. 

Beside her, Harry opens up his notebook, each homework problem neatly organized (this includes all the work he’d done to solve them) over two pages. She looks straight ahead, slightly squinting so she can decipher the correct answers on the board. “How is it 43?” she asks under her breath, staring down at problem #5.

“It was a negative two, not positive...which would mean b becomes positive in the expression,” he answers. He orients his notes towards her. “Right there,” he points to it with tip of his pencil. He leans in a little closer, elbow coming to rest on the table as his head tilts in her direction. Her heart goes crazy as he goes on to explain the steps of the equation. It’s the first time in days he’s willingly talked to her, even if it is about schoolwork. But she forces herself to shake off the feeling for the time being, if only to prevent herself from messing this up. 

“How’d I even...” And she cross checks with his work, brows curling inward. “Oh, I’m such dummy. I didn’t even notice that!” she shakes her head and rubs her eraser over the page. 

He looks at her for the first time today with a prelude of the softest smile. “You’re not.” 

She offers him a toothy grin as she settles back down. Every now and again will she sneak an admiring gaze. 

***

“Harry!” she calls after him. In the short period of time she’d taken to pack her things, he had already fled the room by the time she looked up. It took squeezing her way through two bulky juniors from their class to quickly find his mop of brown curls in the crowded corridor. 

At the sound of his name, he begrudgingly comes to a stop. He sighs and scratches the back of his head, his internal monologue arguing that he should continue forward. The decision is to be outweighed by a greater influence. 

“Hi,” Y/n says in a bit of a wheeze. 

“Hi,” he returns, nodding. He watches as those around them disperse in their difference directions, until the hallway soon becomes barren during this first lunch period. “What’s going on?” he asks simply. 

She absentmindedly goes to mess with a loose strand of hair. “I was just...” she snivels (allergy season can be a real nuisance). “Wanted to say that I’m really looking forward to Thursday.” 

“Oh,” his mouth forms an o with his lips. He glances to the floor and wriggles his feet as though pebbles were buried in his shoes. “Yeah, I think my mum’s bringing trifle or some kind of dessert.” 

“That’s sweet of her,” she affirms. “Are you excited?” 

Harry looks up, noticing the hope embedded in her eyes. “It could be fun,” he says evenly. “Your dad seems pretty keen on watching the Packers game together. Mason, too, I guess.”

“Mason hasn’t stopped talking about it,” she admits shyly, but can’t help but giggle at the thought of her brother. “You know, he told his teacher that you were his best friend.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh. “Really?” Y/n nods enthusiastically. “He’s a cool kid. Tell him I’m honored.” 

“You can always tell him on Thursday.” 

Harry smiles. “I will.” 

***

Thursday November 27, 2008

Thanksgiving Day has never been more stressful for Y/n. Not only has she been baking since last night (did someone say four different flavors of pie and three fall-themed cookies, and a carrot cake bigger than her dad’s head?) but she must have changed her outfit at least nine times in the last half hour. The Styles’ are expected to arrive at around 5pm, which means she only has another forty-five minutes to come up with the perfect ensemble. Earlier in the afternoon, it had just occurred to her that she hasn’t met Anne nor Gemma, and she’d be dishonest if she said she wasn’t ultra-nervous about it.

Gosh, how her stomach feels so full of air.

She wishes she could be as carefree as Mason because all he’s been fretting over is which boardgame to play with Harry after dinner and which Disney movie he’s going to have running on the laptop whilst Jeremy slaves away to the television at approximately 8pm. 

“Do you think Harry likes Monopoly or Connect Four?” the little boy asks. She tears her attention from her cookie display to look down at her brother who’s holding two boxes up for her to examine.

“But, Mase,” she giggles, wiping her hands on her apron. “You don’t know how to play Monopoly.”

Mason looks at the box in his right hand and eyes it carefully. He gives her a signal of understanding before trotting off back into the living room to set up. Shaking her head, she continues setting up the cookies along the three-tier server. Hopefully, it’ll be enough to impress their guests. “It’ll be fine,” she tells herself.

***

The doorbell rings, and almost instantly does it cause alarm within Y/n. 

“Oh my god!” she panics, running around the kitchen to quadruple check that everything is exactly as it should be. “Dad! Dad! Did you–”

“Yes.”

“How about the–”

“Yes.”

“Okay but what about–”

“Y/n,” Jeremy says sternly from the foyer. She closes her eyes as she listens to the bottom rim of the door brush along the mat. “Welcome! Nice to see you again, Anne. Harry, ready for that Packers game? Oh, hello! I don’t think I’ve met you yet?”

Her eyes widen, he must be talking to Gemma! Harry had told her stories about how close they are since Anne’s job requires a lot of traveling. Oh gosh, she must hate her for having done what she did to her brother. She knows this because she would absolutely despise anyone who would ever dare to hurt Mason. “I think I’m going to be sick,” she breathes unevenly and braces herself over the counter. 

“Not to validate anything your father says,” Olivia sneaks up from behind, “but you really do need to relax.” She takes a good look at her daughter. “Weren’t you wearing the brown sweater?”

But before Y/n has the chance to answer, three new faces enter from the side, her heart skipping over multiple beats as she becomes tightlipped. 

“Hello!” Olivia greets them. “We’re so happy to have you join us! I’m Olivia, by the way.”

Harry’s sister nudges him from behind. “Oh, um...” he looks behind him. “This is my mum Anne, and my sister Gemma.” 

“So nice to meet you,” Anne smiles, and she extends a hand to Olivia, Gemma does the same. “You have such beautiful home. Are those chrysanths you have along the walkway? They’re absolutely stunning!” 

Olivia covers a hand over her heart. “I like you already,” she sobs playfully. “Finally, someone who gets it! Two kids and neither of them share a love for gardening.” 

“You can say that again,” Anne returns. The two share a laugh, and Olivia leads them into the dining room to continue on with their chat. 

It leaves Y/n with Harry and Gemma, and she isn’t even sure where Jeremy might have wandered off to now. Harry whispers something into Gemma’s ear, and she rolls her eyes before shoving her elbow into his side. Y/n can’t help but wonder what he’s saying. Is it about her? Has he found something wrong? Stop this! She reaches behind her and pinches herself. Relax.

Taking a bold step forward, she strikes up conversation. “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Gemma replies, a warm aura radiating from her being.  

Y/n tilts her head.  “Good things, I hope.”

“Well,” the older girl starts, sending a smirk at her brother and sniggering when his eyes widen in realization. “This one never stops talking about you.”

Harry gasps, “Now wait just a minute.” But as soon as he’s about to come up with a rebuttal, he’s immediately attacked from behind with a hug. Short arms lock his legs together, and if it weren’t for his sister standing there for support, he would have most definitely fallen over. “There he is!” 

“Harry!” Mason giggles, reaching his arms above his head, a notorious signal for Harry to lift him up. “Did you miss me?”

“Duh!” Harry teases. “How can I not miss my bestest mate?” 

***

Dinner goes better than either she or Harry can expect. Their families seem to have taken well with one another, Anne and Olivia having already formed that instant bond over maternal care and green thumbs. Jeremy is shocked to hear that Gemma is interested in programming herself, and he’s even more impressed to learn that she’s in the process of building her own website. As for Mason, well...it’s a little hard not to fall in love this boy when all he pours out into the world is happiness, and maybe a little bit of cupcake frosting. 

A seating arrangement had predetermined their positions at the table (thanks to Olivia and her brilliant mind). As it had happened, Y/n and Harry are seated beside each other, their chairs closer than usual with the extra chair on his other side. Although, it became apparent throughout dinner of the gap –– while not visible to the human eye –– that remains between them. 

Y/n doesn’t understand why that is, especially since they’d seemed to be on better terms on Tuesday. While they hadn’t eaten lunch together, he did sit next to her during Spanish class so they could work on the conjugation exercise together. Sure, it hadn’t been the most romantic thing they could have done, but it was a start, right? But now she feels bothered that the extent of their communication today has been polite smiles and requests to pass whatever dish the other is closest to. 

Deciding she’s had enough of this, she turns to him. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she whispers to him. 

“It is the holidays, so...” he keeps his answer elusively.

She has to play it back in her mind to determine if there’s any underlying meaning behind it. Pushing around the remains of her pumpkin pie she speaks up again. “Are you still mad at me?” 

He takes his time before answering, mulling over the words carefully. Yet, there’s no intelligible way to organize them to make it sound any better. “It’s not that simple.”

And that manages to stir something within her. “It’s either yes or no.”

“Y/n,” he warns, not wanting to cause a scene in front of their families. “Now’s just not the time to talk about it.”

She scoffs, shaking her head and willing herself not to cry. “It’s never the time with you.” And she excuses herself from the table. 

***

Giving himself one last glance in the mirror, he wraps his hand around the copper knob. He takes a long breath as he prepares himself to rejoin everyone and pretend that he doesn’t wish he could be anywhere else today. For majority of the day, he had thought he’d moved on from the rejection. However, the more time he spends with her, the more those feelings regress him back to those open wounds. Despite how much he likes watching football with Jeremy and playing Connect Four with Mason, he can’t help but get distracted whenever she comes over and asks thoughtful questions about the game. And that distraction causes him to remember how difficult it’s been to keep up this charade. 

When he opens the door, he’s immediately met with her figure looking up at him with doe-like eyes. His jaw clenches as he tries to ignore how the pout on her plump lips makes a part of him go a little crazy. What’s worse is that he shouldn’t feel this way, not right now at least. Not when he’s trying to stay mad for a little while longer. 

“Please,” she starts off faintly, looking all too small as she stands before him. His expression softens only the smallest amount that she isn’t sure if maybe it was just a twitch. “Can we just talk?” She can see it in his eyes, the answer that’s about to roll off his tongue so blatantly obvious. And before he has a chance to decline, she latches onto his hand and starts to walk him towards the stairs. They’re careful not to draw attention to themselves as they practically tiptoe through the dining area where Anne and Olivia continue to share embarrassing stories from when both Harry and Y/n were much younger. 

The grip she has on him while she leads him up the steps surprises him. Her soft hand squeezes his so tightly that his palms start to sweat from the sheer pressure (and maybe from a bubbling sense of nervousness that’s brewing inside). “Is this really necessary...” he hears himself muttering out loud, even though he’s expecting no answer in return. Although, he may have just felt just the smallest bit of added compression around his fingers as they round the corner. 

Once they’re in her room, she’s sure to close the door this time around. If she’s learned anything from the numerous times they’ve been interrupted, it’s that one can never be too sure around her family –– or anyone really. She debates whether to take it all the way with caution, standing frozen as she stares down at the lock with hesitancy.

“Are you planning on keeping me hostage or something?” he chuckles lightly, plopping down on her bed, having already accepted his defeat. He combs his fingers through his hair a couple times before allowing himself the chance to relax.

She exhales fully and closes her eyes. “If that’s what it takes.” With the lock pinched securely between her fingers, the faintest sound erupts within the space. Click. “Then, yes.” Rotating on her heel, she presses her back up against the door, hand still loosely grasping the handle as she tilts her head back. She keeps her eyes low at first, but as seconds on the clock begin to outnumber them, she has no choice but to have them ascend. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she says shakily, whatever confidence she had absorbed seems to have fizzled out. But she can’t back down now, not when the opportunity is right in front of her. “I knew you were going to ask me, and I swear I was going to wait but then Jasper completely caught me off guard and then everyone was watching and I just...I just didn’t...I just didn’t think. It was stupid and I know that’s not an excuse, but I just want things to go back to normal.” She crosses her arms over her chest, a twinge of embarrassment filling her as her own words repeat through her ears. 

He shifts uncomfortably. All the feelings he’d been trying to avoid are being unlocked, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. It’s not even that he’s mad (he’s found it impossible to harvest any ill-feelings for the girl in front him), it’s more that he’s dreading whatever might come out of her mouth because he isn’t sure he can handle another rejection. “We don’t have to talk about it, really. We’re fine,” he says as neutrally as he can. 

“No, Harry. We’re not. And you know it.” 

He knows she’s right, no matter how much he wants to deny it for the sake of saving his own heart. But now that she’s locked him in, he has no choice but to confront the issue. “Look, whatever might have been between us, I’ll get over it, okay? I’ll be fine. I don’t want you to feel–”

“No!” she almost screams, and she marches right to where his knees bend off the side of the mattress with her lips pursed in a newfound determination. “That’s the complete opposite of what I want to happen.” 

His green eyes are fixed on her. “What do you mean?” he whispers. But she shakes her head, as though regretting the words to come out of her mouth. Because now they implicate her of the thing she’s been dying to say, and there’s no coming back once it’s said.

Not even thinking, he places his hands on her waist to bring her closer. She still refuses to look at him, her arms further wrapping around her vulnerable self. There’s something in the way her bottom lip moves in the slightest matter that intrigues him. And now he just needs to know. “Hey, look at me,” and he gently cups her cheek to encourage her. “What?”

She stays quiet as she tries to get her breathing back to a normal pace, but the feeling of his stare causes a sweat to form down her back. “I don’t want you to be over us.”

With that, she finally looks forward. 

It’s about time one of them be brave.

“I don’t want you to be over me,” she says in the most delicate manner. “I don’t want you to get over me because...” She uncrosses her arms, only to have them wrap around his neck as she settles between his open legs. “Because I don’t want to have to get over you.”

Their eyes meet, and she lets her forehead fall against his. The tips of their noses nudge against each other. A sigh of pure bliss fights its way out of him. He pulls her even closer, thumbs rubbing small circles into the plush of her hips. Her heart beats erratically, as does his as they bask in the echo of a declaration. Two pairs of lips pull up into benevolent smiles before finally coming together.    

Eight letters.

There are eight letters to be remained unsaid (until another time).

***

[nikkigrand]

Prompt: Fairy prince Kakashi and lost human Sakura in a top that says "heartbreaker" "Do you humans often wear your titles proudly upon your chest?" 'A breaker of hearts' what an absurd thing to be."

Hi! Thank you for the prompt! I hope you like this! <3 @thatbabefiona

Sakura tripped over an overgrown root with a curse, a giggle, and a hiccup. Oh man, she was drunk—very drunk. She stumbled a bit before righting herself with a deep breath.

“Okay, bitch,” she mumbled to herself, sniffing as she tugged on the hem of her favorite low-cut top then pulled on the sleeves of Kiba’s flannel, “Pull yourself together. You’ve gotta win this thing.”

Placing her hands on her hips, Sakura casted a look around to gain her bearings. She stood in a nice little clearing in the middle of the woods, the sounds of emerging nocturnal critters filling the silence. The sun was setting and she knew without a doubt that if she dawdled for just a second more, she’d be absolutely and positively fucked.

In all honesty, Sakura felt that, at 25, she and her group of friends were getting too old to be doing their annual scavenger hunt. It had been fun when they were teens and even in their early twenties, but now they were just running out of ideas and it was getting to be a bit tedious and boring.

This year, they had placed Naruto in charge and Sakura thought that their group of friends would know by now that one could never trust Naruto with anything. He was just so unpredictable, and things always had a way of going wrong when he was at the helm; and to make matters worse, he had made Kiba his “second in command.”

Kiba was like a second Naruto but with facial hair.

Which led to her current predicament: standing alone in the middle of the woods looking for some silly object.

The night had started the same as every other year: they met at the hosts house, had some drinks, then commenced their hunt. This year Shikamaru was the host due to pulling the longest stick twelve years ago.

The Naras had a nice house—it was situated at the border of Konoha’s hiking trails and preserves—and normally Sakura would have loved to hang out on their backyard patio, swinging on Shikamaru’s hammock and enjoying the nice end of summer breeze; but this year that luxury was squashed by Dumb and Dumber’s announcement that their scavenger hunt was in the woods.

Now don’t get Sakura wrong—she had no problems with Konoha’s preserves and trails…during the day. But at night, whenever she was unfortunate enough to linger in the area, it always gave her the heebie-jeebies. There was something just not right with the place. She always felt like she was being watched, like something was following her, or like there was a secret she wasn’t privy too.

In short, she didn’t like being in there after dark.

Which is why, when Kiba announced their arena for the night, Sakura started taking shots of Fireball as if it could magically give her actual balls of fire. In hindsight, it was a bad idea. If maybe she had been a bit more sober, she wouldn’t be in her current predicament.

Sakura was lost.

Wait. She squinted at the base of a tree, making her way towards a small patch of mushrooms she was sure she’d passed on her way into the deeper parts of the woods.

Ah, nope. I’m lost.

Now you must surely be wondering how she’d be lost on her own if she had been with a group of people, and Sakura will gladly tell you how this came to be.

As kids, their game had first started with twelve people, which was great because that was an even number for three teams of four.

But then they (as teenagers were wont to do) discovered hormones and started pairing off. And that was fine because her friends were finding love with each other so that led to solid teams; and some of her friends were single so it wasn’t awkward for those who weren’t all kissy-kissy with their boyfriends and girlfriends.

That was until those who were single started dating people outside their usual group of friends and bringing them to the scavenger hunt. It was always a pain trying to make adjustments to their dynamic and adding them to teams—trying to fit a stranger who didn’t know how things worked.

Flings came and went until they were left with serious relationships. So, in the end, their number went from twelve to eighteen this year.

Or so Sakura thought.

She’d had a bit of a thing with one of her friends for a little over a year, beginning last year ironically during a scavenger hunt. She’d always had a crush on Sasuke, how could she not?

He was everything her little teenage angsty girl heart could ever want. He was like a angry surly cat she wanted to tame and bring home and love forever and ever.

But reality kind of sucks and Sasuke wasn’t a cat—surly and angry, but not a cat—and in the end, things didn’t work out, so they cut it off a little over two months ago. They were still friends—Sakura wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t care for him—but good sex wasn’t enough to make her stay.

Especially not when he admitted to her face that he didn’t think he had the emotional capabilities to “do” relationships.

So, imagine her surprise when he showed up to Shikamaru and Temari’s house with Naruto’s cousin on his arm. Sakura didn’t have a problem with Karin, in fact, she actually quite liked the fiery red head. It just hurt to see him moving on so soon and made her question all the things he’d said to her.

Because of Karin’s presence, the teams went from three groups of six to two groups of six and one group of seven.

In the end, Sakura ended up as the nineteenth wheel. She was the odd man out and the whole thing chafed, so she finished the entire bottle of Fireball Whiskey by herself and tried not to think about the couple exchanging soft words by the coolers.

She was placed on Ino’s team because the blonde, bless her heart, took an instant disliking to Karin on Sakura’s behalf.

“Well, if you won’t hate her, I will,” she’d said haughtily as she started writing their team name down on name tags. “Who does that hussy think she is? Everyone knows you and Sasuke were supposed to end up together, that’s why Lee finally gave up and got himself a girlfriend!”

Ino’s lips had pursed in irritation. “And now look—now we have uneven teams. Sasuke is such a dick.”

Ino had a point, Sasuke was a dick, but not for including Karin.

By the time they had broken off into their teams (theirs being the Heartbreakers), Sakura was too drunk to care about Ol’ Duck Butt and his Ketchup bottle girlfriend. In fact, when they’d started the hunt, she was having a great time! She wasn’t even thinking about how she was the seventh wheel and the only single person in her group of friends.

That was until their team had bumped into Naruto’s team and both sunshine blondes of her life started going at each other’s throats about winning the $475 pool. As soon as they parted ways, things went left.

“Alright!” Ino had stomped her foot, teeth gritting and eyes flashing dangerously, “There is no way we’re losing to that blockhead! We only have four things left. So that means we’re splitting up! Everyone grab a partner, pick a thing, and let’s get moving!”

The couples were quick to take hold of each other’s hands, announce their item and go in different directions—which left Sakura standing awkwardly by herself, alone in the creepy woods she hated being in in the first place.

She’d stood there for a moment, swaying a bit on her feet, before clearing her throat and starting to walk, huffing along as she went, “This is fine. We’re fine. I’m fine.”

Which leads us to where she is now, looking for a green glass bottle to match the color of her eyes.

And no, she wasn’t being vain, that was literally what the list said in Naruto’s photo copied block letters: “Green glass bottle that looks like Sakura’s eyes.”

The sun was setting quicker than she thought possible and even as drunk and uncaring as she was, it still served to make her feel uneasy. Sakura started feeling that sensation of being watched and it made her swallow nervously. But of course, they don’t call alcohol liquid courage without reason, so she trudged on in search of a glass bottle.

She pulled out her phone to check the time and saw a text message from Ino. Swiping her thumb across the screen, she squinted her eyes and tried to make out what in the hell the blonde was trying to say.

•

Peppa-Pig: Hry thr hell up 5 hed! We got our shiiiiizzzz! w8n on u! Wher r u?!

•

She’d just gone to reply when her screen went dark, indicating a dead battery. Sakura cursed at the block of technology in her hand, shaking it as if it would make it turn back on. As such, she didn’t notice the body in front of her until it was too late.

She bumped into what felt like a brick wall and was saved from falling on her butt only by virtue of being steadied by two large hands. Even still, she cursed as she cradled her throbbing nose, tears springing to her eyes and a pounding headache quickly taking the place of that nice cottony buzz she had going on.

“Ow!” She cried. “What the hell?!”

In between her rapid blinking, she could make out a man standing in front of her, tall as hell and super sparkly.

She tried blinking the tears away. Nope, still sparkly. She wiped her eyes, smearing what little bit of makeup she had on, and her jaw slackened.

In front of her stood the most gorgeous man she had ever had the pleasure of setting her eyes upon. Wherever the sun touched his skin, it sparkled like the finest marble. Green eyes drank in his face like a woman starved and by the way she was staring at him, you’d think she’d never seen a man before in her life.

Well, a man like this, at least. Which she sure hasn’t. Not at all.

His eyes shone like they were cut from granite and were framed by a set of finely shaped brows. They stared at her with open curiosity and maybe even a bit of contempt. Sakura’s eyes immediately wandered to his hair, spun out of what could only be pure moonlight. In it sat a crown of ivy and gold, and he only wore a pair of green pants slung low on his hips. No shoes, no shirt.

Sakura shut her mouth with an audible click.

Then she started giggling. Uncontrollably.

“Holy shit, girl,” she gasped in between hysterics, “How much did you drink?! You’re hallucinating! You’re seeing fairies and crap!”

She bent over as full belly giggles took over, her pastel hair falling in curtains around her face, and when she straightened she was alone in the creepy forest of doom once more. Sakura shook her head; that was the absolute last time she was ever drinking Fireball Whiskey.

As soon as she got back to Shikamaru’s house, she was going to find out which one of those assholes slipped something into her drink and make them eat her fist.

“Do you humans often wear your titles proudly upon your chest?”

Sakura screeched, tilting her head back to see the same man from before standing on a branch above her.

“A ‘breaker of hearts,’ what an absurd thing to be,” he scoffed as he crossed his arms.

“Holy shit!” Sakura cried as she openly gaped up at him then scrambled back as he stepped off the branch to gracefully land in front of her like it were totally normal for men to fall out of trees.

He stepped towards her, completely invading her space, eyes narrowed and focused on her chest intently.

So, Sakura did what any woman in her position would do.

She slapped him.

The man reared back in shock and Sakura quickly covered her chest, her finger catching on the name tag Ino had stuck on there.

The man cradled his cheek as he stared back in disbelief.

“You struck me!” He exclaimed, eyes blazing as he took a threatening step towards her.

“You were being a pervert!” Sakura snapped, hands curling into fists.

“What?!”

“You were staring at my chest!”

The man gestured wildly at her torso, his little gold leaf crown sitting askew in his hair. “Only because you proclaim yourself to be a breaker of hearts!”

Sakura’s eyes narrowed in confusion before her lips rounded as she realized he was talking about her team’s name. Then her eyebrow shot to her hairline. Okay, this guy was weird.

“It’s a nickname,” she informed slowly because clearly this guy was missing a few screws. “Nothing special about it.”

The man’s arms crossed over his well sculpted chest, his crown still sitting lopsided in his hair, and Sakura wanted so badly to fix it because it was driving her crazy and he looked absolutely ridiculous.

Speaking of ridiculous….

“Sir—”

“Prince Kakashi.”

Sakura rolled her eyes, deciding to humor him for now.

“Okay, Prince Kakashi,” she saw him grit his teeth at her mocking tone. “Do you not know about nicknames? Why are you wearing a costume?”

Kakashi stared at her blankly to the point she was worried he’d gone brain dead and catatonic right before her eyes.

“A costume?” He repeated, head tilting to the side in a way reminiscent of a puppy. “This is royal attire.”

Sakura’s other eyebrow joined its sister at her hairline. Okay, so the guy was extremely hot, but he was also extremely weird. Now the question was, was he hot enough to overlook the weirdness?

He reached up to finally straighten his tilted crown and Sakura nearly swooned at the sight of his rippling muscles. Okay, so yes, he was hot enough and she was drunk enough.

So, because she hadn’t gotten laid in a while, Sakura took a step towards him and felt a bit of a thrill when he didn’t step back.

“Do you want to know why they call me a ‘Heartbreaker,’ Kakashi?” She teased, hands held tightly behind her back.

Kakashi’s eyes widened then narrowed suspiciously.

“Prince Kakashi,” he corrected, and Sakura nodded her head placatingly.

“Yes, yes, Prince Kakashi,” she cooed. “Do you want to know why?”

He took a closer step towards her and Sakura would be a filthy liar if she said it didn’t exhilarate her to be doing something so unlike her and bold.

His voice was a growl, husky and as electrifying as his eyes as he looked down at her, “Yes.”

“Then kiss me and find out.”

She only had a second to doubt and wonder about her actions before he, surprisingly gentle, curled his hands around her face and lowered his pillow soft lips onto her own.

Immediately, Sakura knew that this kiss would ruin her life. By the way he slanted his lips across her own, quickly taking control and sweeping his tongue along her lower lip and then teasing her tongue, she knew that she’d been kissing amateurs her whole life.

This was a kiss. This was mind blowing and the stuff of dreams.

And she wasn’t saying that because she was drunk.

Kakashi wrapped a corded arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him and pressing her to his chest. The angle made it so that he was too tall to reach, so they parted for a second only so that he could back her into a tree to hoist her up. Sakura’s legs wrapped around him as he buried his hands in her thick locks of hair, tugging on them gently so he could trail kisses down her neck.

Sakura had a fleeting thought that this was escalating quickly and that Hinata would surely be disappointed in her for kissing strange men in darkened woods. But Ino would be cackling madly and would probably be proud of her.

It’s that thought that makes her grind her hips into Kakashi, legs tightening desperately around him. She could feel him and wondered if she had it in her to have sex against this tree with a stranger.

Ino would have, if she were in her shoes and didn’t have Sai.

Kakashi moaned low in his throat as the kiss deepened further, Sakura raking her nails down his back and digging her feet into his lower back to bring him closer to where she wanted him most.

She could hear Ino now: calling her name and cheering her on.

Wait, that was Ino calling her name.

“Sakura!” She heard Ino call from the distance, then some more of her friends. “Where are you!?”

Sakura pulled back from Kakashi’s lips and rested her forehead on his shoulder with a groan, unwrapping her legs from around him and sliding slowly down his body.

He chuckled. “You are certainly a breaker of hearts.”

Fixing up her mussed hair, Sakura couldn’t help but laugh.

“I could say the same about you…” then as an afterthought, she added cheekily, “Prince Kakashi.”

Rolling his eyes, Kakashi adjusted himself before stepping away from her, the marks from her nails glaringly bright against his pale skin. Sakura felt bad but found that she liked that she left her mark on him.

She fidgeted a bit. Now that they weren’t on top of each other and she was sobering up, she had no idea what to say.

“Um—”

“I will find you again, worry not.”

Her shoulders sagged in relief. Kakashi tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing gently over the soft skin of her cheek. She could hear her friends’ footsteps and voices as they got closer to finding her and she sighed. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead and then her mouth.

“I will visit you soon,” he murmured against her lips as her eyes slipped shut, savoring the moment with this gorgeous and enticing stranger.

“I will see you soon, Heartbreaker.”

And when she opened her eyes, she gasped as she saw him disappear into a tree. Not behind, but inside the tree! He gave her a cheeky wink and then he was gone, vines wrapping around the tree and flowers growing in the space he once stood. And with him went the feeling of being watched and followed.

Sakura felt a tickle near her ear just as Ino came up behind her with an exasperated cry of “Sakura! Where have you been?!”

Reaching up to touch the cherry blossom sprig tucked in her hair, Sakura only had one thought in her head.

Holy crap, I just made out with a fairy prince.