#me: why all these people standing outside the Waking Sands?

[kooktrash]

UKIYO ✧ jeon Jungkook

summary: it’s the start of summer and there’s nothing better than dipping your toes in the sand and falling for a local boy who plays beach volleyball in his free time. he’s charming in a way you’ve never seen and you seem to understand each other better than one could imagine. both stuck in an awkward time of self discovery, you try to live in the moment and forget about your worries till they become too hard to ignore.

The Japanese word ukiyo (pronounced "u-key-yo") means "living in the moment" or "detached from the troubles of life".

✧ genre/au: summer romance, local beach boy!jk x city girl!y/n, [she/her, afab]

✧ 17.7k words

warnings: smut, fluff, ‘coming of age’ but they’re in their twenties, jk falls first. oral [f receiving]. unprotected bc they’re literally on a boat. hair pulling. jk is kinda rich boy. oc seems mean but she’s got mean vibes but just sassy and jk likes it. jk was previously engaged. law student jk. intimate missionary. jk is a volleyball player. think beach town vibes. his ex is kinda stuck up—all his friends are. jk is kinda lovesick puppy who needs aftercare lol

inspired by, Nicholas Sparks’ “The Last Song”

songs: tyrant — coldplay, mind over matter — young the giant, left hands free — alt-j, omg — suki waterhouse, sex drug etc — beach weather

✧

For a long time, summer was the only thing to look forward to in the year. The days were longer spent outside enjoying time with your friends and letting yourself sleep in until noon. As you grew older with more responsibilities that didn’t suddenly disappear when the temperature grew warmer, you began to lose feelings for the season. It made no difference in your life anymore and you longed for the days it would.

Maybe that’s why it was so easy for you to drop everything and leave your worries behind. A couple months in the sun, no stress, nothing holding you back.

”I still can’t believe I managed to convince you,” Your friend said for the third time in the last hour. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, again, “I still can’t believe it either, don’t make me regret it.”

Hoseok mocked you using a high pitched voice, turning the Jeep Wrangler into the driveway of a modern beach house, “How could you regret these next few weeks waking up to the waves crashing on the shore?”

”What magazine did you read that off of?” Your friend asked from the backseat, laughing to herself at his expense, “I hate when you talk corny.”

”Whatever, you guys are so ungrateful,” Hoseok jokes, pulling the car in ‘park’ and powering the engine off, “Next time I’ll invite someone else to come with—someone who I won't have to beg!”

”Boohoo,” You pretended to whine, getting out of the car and racing to get to your luggage first, “You love begging for me.”

”You wish,” He says with a scoff, “Hurry up and find your rooms, I want to get down to the beach as soon as possible.”

The beach was at its peak time of day where the sun sat the highest and almost every foot of sand was covered with people’s belongings. Not far from shore were rows of volleyball courts and crowds of people watching and as much as you wanted to avoid that busy side, it was the way to the boardwalk. You had no choice but to follow your friends in that direction. They were steps before you, already arguing about which store to go into first or what food stand you’ll go to but you were distracted by the large Ferris wheel in the back.

Maybe your focus should have been on the matches happening all around you but by the time you realized that it was too late. The white ball barely grazed your side when a tall figure headed straight into you with a loud thud.

A low grunt left your lips as you hit the sand with such a force that it physically ached for a moment. Your hands and face were practically covered in sand it was hard to acknowledge whatever gibberish your assailant spat out.

He didn’t have time to get a good look at you as he rushed to his feet, taking your arm and pulling you up abruptly, “Shit, I’m so sorry, I—“

“It’s fine,” your tone came out harsher than expected and it probably had something to do with the guy who loomed over you, and how embarrassed you felt. Up ahead your two friends were barely realizing you weren’t behind them and turning to find you, laughing once they did.

The stranger let his gaze trace over you with sudden curiosity, not at all intimidated by your attempt at a scowl. Now that he was looking at you up close, he had to admit he liked what he saw. He couldn’t help but grin nervously, “I’m sorry.”

His smile made you glare as you dusted sand off your jeans, “Really? I can’t tell.”

“I… it’s just, usually when there’s a ball flying people tend to dodge it,” he was walking backwards now as you tried leaving, he wanted to face you when he talked and it made his cocky smile all the more unbearable. You’ve just met the guy and he hadn’t given the best impression yet. Honestly, you’re just tired from the trip and you’re hungry so you blame that on your mood but you just want to escape this embarrassment of falling.

A scoff left your lips, “Are you saying that this is my fault? Maybe if you all played the game on the court, you wouldn’t have run after it.”

You were giving him attitude and yet he didn’t back down from returning it with a sweet smile.

“Jungkook!” Someone called from behind but the guy didn’t bother to even look back at the paused game. Instead he kept up with you, “You’re right, it’s partially my fault too so how can I make this up to you?”

You stopped walking, looking at him. You didn’t know him and he didn’t know you so there was no need to hold him up from his game any longer, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But I can’t go on like this,” The stranger, Jungkook, said, “Not until I know you’re not mad anymore.”

The way you rolled your eyes excited him in a good way. He wasn’t amusing enough for you and it was rare for him not to be.

“Jungkook! Come on man, the game!”

“Y/n!” Hoseok said loudly, “Hurry up, I’m starving.”

Just like that, the two of you walked away from each other and you had to tell yourself not to look back at him. You didn’t want to catch him doing the same before he went back to playing.

“Are you okay?” Hyeri asked, still laughing lightly, helping you shake off sand, “I was going to help you but then I saw you talking to that hot guy and I didn’t want to intervene.”

“So considerate,” you mumbled sarcastically, trying to hide your smile as you walked the steps up to the pier and forgot about whatever was happening on the sand.

The stranger really was attractive, and if he hadn’t toppled you over like it was nothing you might have stayed a little longer. When you spotted him below you couldn’t help but look him over. He wore a pair of blue and white striped swimming trunks and no shirt which gave you a good look at his muscular back and sleeve of tattoos. Compared to the players around him, he looked noticeably different from the rest and you kind of liked that.

“What are we eating?” You asked your friends who shrugged, still indecisive.

Hours after the sunset and Jungkook’s adrenaline from winning began to slowly settle down, he walked along the boardwalk with his partner. The two of them are trying to waste time for a while before their night plans come along.

“I know Yeaun is around here somewhere and if she’s here then that means Chae-hi isn’t far,” Jimin said looking around the crowded boardwalk while Jungkook followed behind lazily, “Which means a fun night for us so let’s find them.”

He could hear what Jimin was saying but he wasn’t truly listening. His attention had drifted away from the conversation the second he looked to the side and found a familiar silhouette in the distance. Well, not too familiar but he recognized it from when he crashed into you earlier.

You were with your friends at some jewelry stand looking over all the handmade bracelets and necklaces, such a short distance from him. He could easily make it over to you in no time.

“I don’t really want to see Yeaun,” Jungkook said, eyes trained on you. Jimin groaned in response, whipping back to his friend and shaking his head. He followed his line of sight and jumped in front of him.

“No, look over here, we’ve got plans,” Jimin said hoping to pull Jungkook’s attention away from some stranger, “We told Chae-hi and Yeaun we’d met them tonight.”

“No, you have plans, I never agreed to anything,” Jungkook said with a laugh, clearly amused. He tried to see if you were still there but when he looked back you were already walking away.

“Don’t be that way, think about me. Your best friend, who has been trying to get with Chae-hi for weeks now,” Jimin begged, making Jungkook sigh with defeat. He didn’t say anything as he motioned for Jimin to lead the way and went on with his life.

✧

There’s a story about how you found yourself moving into a beach house with your best friends for the summer. The opportunity sort of fell at your feet when Hoseok’s sister had to leave abroad for a couple months because of her job. She lived in a nice house on the beach that would need to be looked after and that’s when she decided to tell her younger brother about it.

Not long after, he came to you and Hyeri and asked if you wanted to join. It took a long time for him to convince you but when you realized how shitty life currently was back home, there was nothing holding you back.

Your first week has been fun getting to enjoy the warm water and sand between your toes. You’ve gotten into a bit of a routine in the area and you’ve begun to familiarize yourself with the roads and places. That’s probably why you were doing Hoseok a favor by helping him out today.

He’s busy taking care of some errands for his sister and asked if you could bring his car into the shop for some maintenance, considering Hyeri liked sleeping past noon, you had no choice but to agree to it all on your own.

“What can we do for you?” A guy in a dark gray button up and oil streaks across his hands asked you once you made it to the auto shop.

“Just an oil change.”

Jungkook had nearly forgotten about his encounter on the beach. There wasn’t much for him to remember anyway and he’s never been the type to hold onto something so meaningless. He carried on with his usual routine and busied himself away at work.

The shop he worked at was busy all of the time and it was a great distraction from whatever else happened in his life so he truly loved it. He loved getting to work with cars and getting his hands dirty. He worked with people he was friends with and sometimes, if he’s really lucky, someone who catches his attention will stagger in.

When he found you standing in the office with his boss signing papers he was visibly taken back. He had been too busy helping Namjoon take a wheel off a black Sedan, to notice when you came in but he was too late now. You were already finishing up whatever you were doing with Jin and leaving.

“I’ll be back,” Jungkook told Namjoon, tossing him the wrench he had been using and heading straight to the front.

You went across the street to the small diner and he had to think about this. Part of him didn’t feel the need to see you again, mostly because he was embarrassed by toppling you over and probably how he sounded. Part of him wanted to ask for your name, apologize and try and see if you’ll talk to him.

“I’m taking an early lunch,” Jungkook told him without much of a car as he hurried to clock out and leave for the diner.

You sat alone in a booth with your laptop open and scrolling through a website filled with job offers. It was partially out of boredom and a reminder that you needed to find somewhere for when you get back home. You could look for something in the field you used to study in but how far could you get with it?

“Excuse me,” he stood in front of you now, “I don’t know if you remember me from a few days ago but—“

“I remember,” you said blandly, looking up at Jungkook with a mixture of boredom and a small hint of possible curiosity. He looked very different with a shirt on, his abs weren’t as distracting but he still had an intimidating build. That’s why his pretty face surprised you under all that sweat and car grease. He was clearly one of the mechanics and has somehow made his way to you.

“Right, uh,” he swooped in to sit across from you, “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to knock you down and sometimes when I’m playing, I kinda get a little too excited so I’m sure I was just talking and talking.”

You’re assuming he meant how he followed after you and smiled so arrogantly when you looked visibly annoyed with him. What you don’t get is why he’s apologizing again, you weren’t still upset over that.

“It’s fine,” you reminded him with a confused look, trying to read what he was really here for, “You work across the street?”

“Yeah, I’m Jungkook,” He finally introduced himself, “I saw you earlier and it was time for lunch so I came to talk to you.”

You didn’t say anything for a while and the silence wasn’t broken until the waitress came and asked what Jungkook would like. He brushed her off with a ‘Whatever she’s having’ and looked at you curiously.

“Okay,” You’re definitely not from around here because he would’ve recognized you so just who are you? He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, yknow, usually when someone gives you their name you say yours back.”

“Y/n,” You said distantly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, anything,” Jungkook sat straighter, almost reaching up to fix his hair but stopping himself. He wasn’t nervous or anything but you’re not speaking to him with the same flirtatious tone and it’s confusing him.

“What are some fun things you can do around here other than the usual tourist stuff?” You asked him suddenly, “You are a local, I assume.”

“You assume right,” Jungkook nodded as he bit his lip in thought, “I could always show you better than I can tell you.”

“You’re a funny guy, y’know?” You smiled, “But seriously, what is there to do?”

He’s pretty sure that was just a rejection so it took him a moment to bounce back from it and tried to catch himself from doing it again.

By the time the car was ready, you were paying for your meal and hurrying to leave while Jungkook ate and enjoyed the last of his break. For the rest of the day he found himself thinking about you.

He’s lived a very repetitive and predictable life. Since early childhood he’s had the same classmates and friends, and gone to the same places and events. He’s known the same girls and has hung out with the same people for years. The only time he got any sense of independence is when he was gone for law school but now that he’s done and has returned home for the sake of his family and friends, he’s reminded once again of the repetitiveness.

Maybe that’s why he’s a little excited to meet someone new. He just had a strong feeling that you were more interesting than you let on and he wanted to know more.

He didn’t know that you felt the same and had to ignore these thoughts so you wouldn’t start anything with him. Jungkook was attractive and you’ve moved on from the fall aside from the slight bruising, and you were just trying to enjoy your time. Did you really need to meet someone?

In all honesty, he didn’t seem as arrogant covered in sweat, he looked good and he seemed nice.

But did that mean you wanted to waste your time with him?

✧

It was a crush, nothing but a small, schoolboy crush that occupied his mind from time to time. In all honesty, it was easy to ignore when he got carried away in his day to day life, it’s only when he sees you or you cross his mind for the shortest of seconds, that he finds himself getting lost. He doesn’t care for the girls his best friend likes to hang around, nor does he feel the need to upturn himself out there. Lately, all he’s wanted is to be with someone who makes him forget about himself and maybe he wasn’t looking in the right places if he thought you could help.

It was wishful thinking for him to hold so much thought over a stranger who couldn’t care less to know his name, but that’s what he liked. He wondered when he would run into you again, what he might say in hopes of getting a response and what would happen after that. He even wondered if you’d be at the beach tonight while everyone told ghost stories and drank bottles of Soju one after the other.

What does he say when he finally sees you looking at him?

You spotted him first, hating how much you wanted for him to look up and see you too. He was with his friends and you had no intentions to approach him but… well, he was cute. You can’t act like he isn’t and he’s oddly charming which makes him memorable but it was a bad idea. This trip was meant to be fun with your friends and that’s it—you weren’t going to make time for strangers.

“For once we don’t have to worry about an Uber and can walk our asses home,” Hoseok said standing over a keg, “So I don’t know about you guys, but I’m blacking out tonight.”

”When has anything ever stopped you from accomplishing that?” You asked him, turning your back to the familiar stranger, “You’re never the one ordering it anyway.”

”No, he’s usually the one we’re pushing into the backseat,” Hyeri joined in on the teasing.

“Shh, why do I always feel judged by you two? Is this what friends are for?” Hoseok pretended to be hurt as he filled your cup with beer.

“She’s not from around here, is she?” Jungkook asked as he looked across at you. You haven’t noticed him—he doesn’t think—but he’s noticed you and for some reason that excited him. Well, for one specific reason and it was simply the fact that he likes you. Does he know enough about you to pinpoint this statement? No, but he knows that he feels strange when you’re around. That has to mean something. The longest relationship he’s ever been in was with Yeaun and he doesn’t remember feeling this excited to meet someone.

“How would I know?” Jimin asked when a scoff, barely bothering to look over at you. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “You rather think about her than Yeaun? You’re insane.”

“Are you sure it’s Chae-hi you like and not Yeaun? You sure do bring her up around me a lot,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to get back together with Yeaun so that Chae-hi will think about me instead of her ‘heartbroken’ friend,” Jimin handed him a cup of beer, “Take one for the team.”

“No, I don’t think so,” He chuckled, “We broke up for a reason so don’t push it.”

“Not a good reason,” Jimin mumbled under his breath but Jungkook chose to ignore it.

“There you are,” the devil herself said as she found him, “We were wondering where you two ran off, right?”

“Right,” Chae-hi agreed, “Hi Jimin.”

“So, it’s kind of boring here isn’t it?” Yeaun asked looking at Jungkook for assurance, “Plus all the low lives are starting to come in and I really don’t want to be around any of them. We were wondering if you guys wanted to come back to mine.”

“To do what?” Jimin asked while Jungkook stood back disinterested and distracted. He couldn’t even pretend to be interested when he was focused on someone else entirely.

By pure luck, he looked back to see if you were still standing where you were before and this time you locked eyes with him. Without much care for the conversation he was supposed to be in right now, he walked off while they discussed plans involving a hot tub.

“I’m starting to think you’re following me,” Jungkook first said as you nearly bumped into him in an attempt to get closer to the bonfire. He walked alongside you with ease, “First, on the court, then at my job and now here?”

That made you snort in disbelief, shaking your head and trying not to smile, “Someone seems flattered but I think you have it the wrong way.”

“As in I’m the one doing the most to run into you? No, never,” Jungkook spoke dramatically, “This is all by chance. There’s no way I could’ve seen you from over there and decided to come and talk to you instead. That would make me seem desperate, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” you agreed, slightly amused now as you broke into a small smile, “I didn’t take you as the type.”

“Well that’s because you haven’t tried to get to know me, I’m honestly a catch,” Jungkook joked lightly, following you where you walked off to, “Or are you scared?”

“Scared? Of what?” You asked, stopping abruptly and turning to face him with furrowed brows. He couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh I don’t know… getting to know someone new. You give me the vibe that you don’t like meeting new people.”

“I love meeting new people,” You exaggerated childishly, “When they don’t fall on top of me.”

“I caught myself, so let’s not lie now,” Jungkook snorted, “Besides, who’s the one who walked into the middle of a game?”

As he said that, the two of you seemed to have drifted far enough from where the fire had been going, that you found yourself not too far from one of the volleyball nets on the shore. Jungkook looked down at you with clear amusement as you looked up at the net and he walked up to the abandoned volleyball that sat in the sand.

“Do you eat, sleep, and breathe volleyball?” You jokingly asked, finally giving Jungkook some response that implied you were interested in him even slightly.

“Only on the weekends, sometimes around noon or after work if I’m free,” Jungkook told you, picking up the ball, “Do you play?”

“No,” you told him as he began to bounce the ball back and forth between his hands. You looked back at your friends who seemed preoccupied with whatever new friends they made for the night.

“It’s easy,” Jungkook said, “There’s really only one basic rule, don’t let the ball touch the ground.”

“Are you giving me a lesson now?” You asked with slight amusement as he moved to the other side of the net, “I’m warning you, I won’t be any good at it.”

“I’ll take it easy on you,” Jungkook tossed the ball your way and although you reached out to hit it, you missed and it landed a few feet behind you. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Okay, maybe you try and throw it.”

“But how do I throw it?” You looked up the tall net wondering how you would make it over. You held it up and tried doing a practice hit while he tried teaching you.

“Just try a simple serve, you can hit it from under or thro—“

“Oh my god,” you broke out into a nervous laugh as Jungkook covered his face with his hand. The ball sat at his feet, completely oblivious to the fact it had just pummeled straight into his face. You covered your mouth in an attempt to stop laughing but you were embarrassed and couldn’t do anything but try and laugh it off, “I’m so sorry.”

“Really? I can’t tell?” Jungkook said sarcastically, sounding eerily similar to you when you first met but still playful. In all honesty, the pain wasn’t too bad but it was humiliating and the only thing he could think about is how you’re trying not to laugh, “You think it’s funny?”

“No! No, I don’t, I just um,” you tried to stop, “I just…”

“You just what?” Jungkook looked at you, slowly making his way to your side and you inadvertently began to step back, worried he might actually be upset, “You like laughing at causing other people pain?”

“Did it actually hurt?” You asked with surprise, still stepping back the closer he got.

“My ego, yeah,” he joked, “And I feel like we need to get even.”

“We did, think about it as me getting back at you for the other day!” You tried to say, feeling the edge of the ride begin to touch your feet the farther you walked from him.

“Really? So this was all part of revenge?” Jungkook asked, “I don’t think so, I suggest you run.”

“What?” You stopped to think, “Jungk—“

And it began. He kicked water at you once the tide was close again and without thinking, you jumped back. You weren’t wearing a bathing suit or anything appropriate for the water so he can’t. You’re in a simple top and flowy, long skirt, not something you wanted wet, “Don’t you dare.”

“Why? Scared of a little water?” He tried to kick water again but this time you moved back in time and he smirked, “It’s better than getting hit in the face. Will you take care of me if I get a concussion?”

You scoffed, laughing, “Don’t you wis—Jungkook!”

He ran after you as you took off in a jog and before he knew it, you were splashing water back at him, not caring about how wet you got. The night was young and you were having a good time, there wasn’t much to worry about other than making sure you got Jungkook before he could get you.

Not far from where the two of you played in the ocean with the moon reflecting against the waves, a few pairs of eyes watched you unimpressed. Jimin didn’t have much to think about the matter, he just couldn’t understand it. Why would Jungkook waste his time on someone he didn’t even know?

Yeaun was right here desperate to have him back and instead he’s wandered off with some stranger acting childish. It doesn’t make sense, and neither does the big grin on Jungkook’s face once he caught you and tackled you into the low tide, both getting drenched in water.

“Jungkook!” He ignored the call of his name as he watched you shake sand out of your hair with curiosity. You looked annoyed even if you smiled and he knows you probably are considering he pushed you into the water but you’re not cussing him out yet. You’re not screaming at him for getting you into the water so maybe it was a good sign.

“Are we even now?” You asked breathlessly as you looked forward to where your friends were and turned away from Jungkook.

“I guess, for now at least,” He teased, walking toward Jimin, “It depends on if I bruise or not.”

“I didn’t hit you that hard,” you scoffed, smiling and shaking your head in disbelief. At some point in your ascend back up the shore, Jungkook got you to finally give him your number. You didn’t question when his friend approached him, going on about something you didn’t bother listening to and turned in search for someone you knew.

“You look like you need a towel,” someone said from your right. It took you a second to realize she was talking to you, much less holding out a clean towel for you.

“Thanks,” you said, trying to wipe off some of the sand with the beach towel the stranger handed to you. Hyeri was off talking with some guy and you had no clue where Hoseok was so as of now, you were on your own here. The girl was pretty and she seemed nice enough so you didn’t mind responding to her approach.

“I’m getting sand all over it,” you tried to make some sort of conversation, “Sorry, I’m Y/n.”

“Don’t even worry about it, I’m Yeaun,” She said with a smile, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Is it that obvious?” You asked, laughing lightly. Yeaun just shrugged as she got closer to you, “Not really, but, well… there’s just some people you should always avoid.”

Your brows began to furrow with confusion, “Like?”

“No, I don’t want to start anything,” she shook her head no, “We don’t know each other and you’ll probably think I’m meddling but… okay, Jeon Jungkook.”

You didn’t say anything to that as you tried to get a good look at the girl. Yeaun was pretty with sun-kissed skin and golden hair that shone under the moonlight. She seemed soft and glowed with a brightness that felt contagious but you didn’t know her. You don’t know why she brought up Jungkook or why she even approached you so you had nothing to say back to her.

“I just mean… you’re not from around here and you seem smart,” Yeaun said sympathetically, “Jungkook’s kind of a known player and I don’t want you to fall for his tricks, trust me, he’s not worth it.”

“Trust me, it’s not like that,” you said, suddenly disinterested in conversation with her and more focused on finding your friends, “Thanks for looking out for me though.”

Yeaun watched you walk away and not bother to turn back and she had to leave like it didn’t bother her to be brushed to the side. She can’t tell if you took what she said into consideration or if you couldn’t care less and she didn’t like that. She didn’t like that she didn’t know you and she didn’t know about your relationship with Jungkook or how you know him.

✧

His life was utterly perfect to anyone who thought about it. He had the bestest of friends, the closest family, the most money and a promising future. Everything he had ever wanted was handed right to him and in a sense, it made him arrogant. It was a given that he would end up that way and maybe that’s why he’s always surrounded himself with people of the like. He didn’t despise any of his friends, just sometimes, when he listened to the conversations they would have, he wanted to disagree.

“Yeaun said you’ve been avoiding her,” Jin said as he pulled a golf club out of his bag.

”Great, now you’re talking about her too?” Jungkook asked, lining his club up with a shiny white golf ball, “I already get enough of it from my parents and Jimin.”

“Well yeah, when you suddenly call off a year long engagement with someone you’ve known all your life, people question it,” Jin said, watching Jungkook swing the club back and shoot the ball into the air, “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” Jungkook mumbled, “Besides, there’s someone else, I don’t know if you know her, her name’s Y/n.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Jin shrugged, moving his visor down to block more of the summer sun out of his eyes. He wore white golfing gloves and a pair of Raybans, making him look straight out of a country club catalog.

Jungkook sighed, growing more restless by the minute. He’s only seen you on few occasions and he’s yet to leave a good impression on you where he can ask for your number or something, “She was hanging out with this guy, I know you know him but I can’t think of his name—you dated his sister.”

“Hoseok?” Jin asked, “I remember hearing about how he was in town. How do you know this isn’t his girlfriend you’re hitting on?”

“It’s not,” Jungkook said, “I don’t think. I don’t know.”

“But what about her?” Jin asked, hopping in the passenger’s side of the golf cart, “You don’t know a thing about the girl but you like her and you’re willing to throw away your future because of it.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Jungkook said with a scoff, “But whatever, you don’t get it.”

He spent the evening golfing on a private course not far from the beach where you wandered around with a book in hand.

You enjoyed passing time with your friends but sometimes, you just needed time to yourself and you would find yourself wandering off on your own without much care for anything else. Your friends didn’t mind when you went off and you always made sure to tell them where you would go so there was never any problem. Ever since you got here, you’ve been doing things on your own.

“I knew I would find you around here.”

You didn’t respond at first, still debating if the person was talking to you, but one look up told you he was. Although you wanted to resist the urge to smile, you couldn’t help it.

“Stalker,” You said with a small sigh, closing your book. He didn’t say anything as he took a seat down in the sand next to you. “You’re on my turf, remember? What are you reading by the way?”

You glanced at the cover of your book, “Nothing exciting—how’d you know I was here?”

“I looked for a dark, brooding figure and assumed it was you,” Jungkook joked, “And just an fyi, my face still hurts.”

“I’m sure you've been hit worse,” You said sarcastically, sitting up and watching him get comfortable. He was dressed in a light color linen button up and shorts, the first buttons were undone and a cliche shell necklace sat perfectly against his collarbone. He was attractive and you’ve thought so since the beginning but something was holding you back.

Did you really want to waste your time on a stranger you won’t know in a few months?

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks suddenly.

“Sleeping, hopefully,” you told him, a small smile when you noticed him roll his eyes.

“It’s the summer, the sun’s out, you live on the beach—don’t look at me like that, it’s a small town. Word gets around when a new person shows up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, knowing it’s him who had been asking about you.

“You’re just solidifying my stalker allegations, should I report you?” You asked, laughing slightly.

“I’ll have you know, a lot of people would love to be stalked by me, you should feel flattered,” He nudged your knee with his.

“What? Like it’s hard? Word gets around,” You said to him, “I’ve already been warned about getting too close to you.”

Jungkook let his brows furrow as he took in what you said but it didn’t take long for it to dawn on him. As much as he wanted to act like there was no way his ex girlfriend would approach you, he knew her too well. Who else would talk down on him? Who else would feel threatened when he ignores them? What does she think she gains from telling you to stay away from him? Isn’t it his decision who he approaches and does she think you’re just going to fall in line like everyone else does?

This is the sort of thing that pisses him off. He’s not a bad guy at all, he doesn’t sleep around, he focuses on his goals, he has fun with his friends… so why?

“But if it makes you feel any better, I’m not very good at listening to what I’m told,” You finally said, standing up with your book in hand and pulling the sand-covered towel, “And I’m starving, so where’s a good place to eat around here?��

As much as he wanted to act like the cool guy and seem indifferent, he couldn’t help but break out into a grin. Without wasting another second, he got up and motioned to carry your things, “There’s a good food shack on the boardwalk. I guess I could show you around.”

“If it isn’t too much of a hassle,” You said playfully, handing him your things.

“So, I want to know, what’s a big city girl like yourself doing all the way over here?” He asked on the way up, “Or do you still want to play at being mysterious?”

You rolled your eyes, “I don't usually play games like that, I think you’ve got me confused with someone else. I just don’t talk if I have nothing to say.”

“Interesting take, I personally never know when to shut up,” Jungkook smiled, pointing up to the restaurant and walking in behind you, “But seriously, usually the tourists come to pollute our water and get away.”

“Are you always so observant? You give me the vibe that you like to watch other people,” You told him, sitting down at a high round table across from him.

“And you give me the vibe that you hate talking about yourself. Why else would you avoid every question I ask?” He asked, raising a brow making you scoff but you couldn’t deny it. When the server brought out your menus, she made sure to greet Jungkook like old friends.

“Do you really care to know?” You asked quietly.

“Why else would I ask? I’m not pretending to be interested, if that’s what you think,” Jungkook said honestly.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, looking down at the menu contemplating what to order and what to say, “Things were getting a little too complicated back home and my friend asked if I wanted to pack up my things and follow him down for the summer and I said yes.”

“How broad,” Jungkook said with a small smile, lifting a brow and waiting to see if you would add to it.

“It’s the truth,” you shrugged.

“What was complicated?” Jungkook asked.

He looked amused when you narrowed your eyes in response to his probing. “Adulting.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Jungkook shrugged, waiting for the server to come back to take your orders. He let you order first, watching the server give you a look as she listened and followed after with his own.

“How wise of you to say. What about you?” You asked him, handing the menus back and sliding your drink closer to you.

Jungkook distracted himself playing with the wrapper of his straw and shrugged, “What about me? We’ll get to me when you give me the juicy details.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, looking out the window to the view of the waves crashing against the shore, “What? I told you everything.”

He chuckled, “Barely.”

Rolling your eyes, “Rude.”

“Really?” He asked, biting back a smile.

“No. You’re actually pretty nice,” once again, you sighed, as if admitting that was hard for you.

“Nice? That’s what you tell a guy when you’re going to reject him. I just want to know more about you but there’s not much I can go with. How long are you staying?” Jungkook finally asked you.

“A couple months, are you already dreading it when I leave?” You asked, sounding sarcastic and amused.

“Maybe, you’ve left an impression despite what you might think. Crushing you under my incredible physique was destiny.” He could tell you wanted to laugh but were refusing to do so.

“Corny.”

“Funny.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair and making it known that he was going to wait for you however long it took.

“I had this bad roommate situation I couldn’t take anymore and my lease doesn’t end for another two months so when Hobi asked me to come with I jumped at the chance. I left my job because it’s draining me and I felt useless so I figured it’d be easier to run away to the beach and deal with it all later. Happy? I was honest.” You rushed the words, half-assed the pace.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes suspiciously but gave in, “Content. You’ll figure it out, you don’t seem like the type to wait around for things to fix themselves.”

“Really? Because that feels like what I’m doing right now. I’m all the way over here where I haven’t done anything but run into this strange guy at the beach who I think might be stalking me,” You said, joking at the end.

“No, right now you’re trying to live in the moment, nothing wrong with that,” he chuckled, ignoring your joke.

You don’t remember much of what you said to him but for some reason Jungkook was very easy to talk to. Maybe it’s because you don’t really know him or expect anything from him at all but he got you too open up to him like you’ve known him for years. In reality you didn’t know anything about him or anyone here for that matter.

“Okay, okay, enough about me. It’s your turn,” you had finally said between mouthfuls of whatever the two of you ordered and Jungkook couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“Alright, I’m… also trying to figure things out on my own. I’m used to being with certain people and doing certain things and I don’t know, at one point I kind of got fed up with everything being so predictable. I want to meet people on my own and not because they know who I am or something,” He rushed his words, “If I could, I’d move far away from here but right now I don’t think that’s an option so I settle for next best and stick it out. In all honesty, everything’s kind of been a bore until I met you, you’re different.”

You raised a brow, mirroring his earlier stance and crossing your arms over your chest, unamused, “How?”

He smirked, “I don’t know yet, I can just tell.”

You never believe a guy when he goes on about how different you are from other girls because usually they’re just full of shit. You’re not good at picking the right person so it makes you wary to believe anything he says despite how good he looks saying it.

By the time the bill came, the server made sure to sit it without checking if that’s what either of you wanted but you didn’t hesitate to reach for yours. Jungkook snatched the small slip out of your hand and hurried the server back so he could pay for it in full, giving her a tight smile, “Just one check, thanks.”

“Sure thing,” she said with a light scoff that had you looking after her with furrowed brows. Something about the way she acted left you feeling confused.

“What a good first date.” Jungkook said at the end, walking outside with you.

“This wasn’t a date,” you teased, thanking him for the meal nevertheless, “But I should probably call it a night, y’know.”

“Oh yeah, me too,” Jungkook shrugged “But if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, we should see each other again.”

“Hm, I’ll think about it,” You said playfully, “If I’m not busy.”

“You won’t be,” He smirked, bumping your shoulder with his as the walk turned bumpy and more trail-like as he walked you home, “But why don’t you give me your number and we can talk about it more on the phone.”

“Hah, smooth guy, aren’t you?” You asked, taking his phone and typing your number in. When you got to the soft trail of greenery and sand that led up to the backyard of the beach house.

“How about we watch the last few minutes of the sun set together,” he reached for your head and stopped you before you could head up the wooden steps.

“How about you don’t kidnap my friend for the whole evening!” Hoseok shouted suddenly, tripping over his own feet as he ran out the sliding glass door that led to the pool deck, “I’ve been worried sick about Y/n.”

“Not true, he’s been sleeping!” Hyeri yelled after him, “But you’re the guy who tackled my best friend on our first day here.”

“My reputation precedes me,” Jungkook held his hands up in surrender, “I’m Jungkook. I was just asking if you guys wanted to join us and watch the sun set.”

“How aesthetic, let me grab some bottles of Soju.”

Your attempt to end your time with Jungkook failed and he seemed pleased with himself for that. He was also polite enough to try and get to know your friends too.

✧

He was having a crisis, he thinks. A real life identity crisis because for the first time in his life he thinks he likes someone—in a way he’s never liked anyone before. It’s pathetic and makes him feel so stupid because he barely knows anything about you but it’s the truth. If anything that’s what makes him like you so much. He likes that he can’t tell what you’ll say or how you’ll react to him, it’s exciting.

He just wants to know if he’s on your mind too.

“We’re still on for this weekend right?”

“What are we doing again?” The road ahead was a scenic path between mountain and sea that led all the way to this private property of his childhood home.

“Chae-hi’s birthday trip.” Jimin spoke from the passenger’s seat of the black pick-up truck his best friend paraded in when he wasn’t on his dirtbike.

“Oh, yeah I’m not going. I was thinking of taking Y/n sailing,” Jungkook said with a small smile, looking sideways, unable to miss the way Jimin stiffened and went silent. He looked back to the road, hand tightening around the steering wheel slightly, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jimin scoffed, looking out the window annoyed now. The drive was silent for a while, nothing but the low sound of music and wind blowing through the topless truck.

“What’s up with you lately?” He finally asked, “You barely know the girl and she’s all you talk about. We’ve had plans to go with everyone.”

By everyone he meant their mutual friends—not just his ex and her friend—which made things worse. He’s known them all for years and it’s hard to see them when he wants to move on and do his own thing. Jungkook tried not to let Jimin’s tone ruin his mood and sighed, “Sorry, man, but I’m not going. Are we playing later or what?”

“You sure you’re not busy with your new friends?” Jimin asked, remembering about the night Jungkook had dinner with you. He tried calling him that night to see if he wanted to go out for drinks just to be rejected because Jungkook was too busy with you and your friends.

Jungkook chuckled, “Don’t be jealous, you’ll always be first in my heart.”

“Oh fuck off,” Jimin rolled his eyes, trying to not sound bitter as he asked, “What’s your girl doing anyway?”

“Y/n’s not my girl—yet, I don’t know. She hasn’t texted back,” Jungkook said worriedly, making Jimin stare at him strangely.

It’s not that he had anything against you personally, he just doesn’t get it. You’re a complete stranger who won’t stick around so why has his best friend chosen to hang out with you so much recently. What did you have over the people he’s known all his life? What do you bring to the table?

What did you gain from being around Jungkook?

You couldn’t explain it either. All you really knew was that a cute guy who sort of annoyed you in the beginning was starting to rub off on you. You’ve come to enjoy running into him and forcing yourself to open up because he’ll listen. It made you feel weird in a good way. You wanted to think about how fun it was to be around him and ignore all the worries you’ve had recently.

Even with your close friends, you’ve long since stopped talking about the people you were interested in. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust them or want their advice but sometimes you didn’t feel the need to say anything—especially if it was harmless fun. That’s why when Hyeri approached you about Jungkook, you weren’t sure what to say.

“It’s no fair,” Hyeri picked through a crate of strawberries, dropping them into a basket, “I wanted to find a little beach boyfriend, why’d you get lucky instead.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked dumbly, following her down the aisle of produce at the farmer’s market.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Hyeri said accusingly, “Jungkook.”

“We’re just hanging out,” You said with a shrug that made her laugh, pushing her sunglasses into her hairline. You knocked against one end of a green watermelon, hoisting it in your hands and continuing past her.

“Right, is that what you called your date the other night? Just a nice early dinner with a hot guy who asked to watch the sunset with you?” She said playfully, “You like him, don’t you.”

“I don’t know him,” You insisted. Yes, you’ve talked a lot with Jungkook recently and you’ve begun to talk about real things in your lives but did that really mean anything? “Besides, in a month and a half I’ll be in my new place settling back into the old routine. It’s just fun hanging out with him, nothing more, it’d be too complicated.”

“Whatever you say,” Hyeri sighed.

You’re lying, obviously you’re lying because you do sort of like him but you didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want to think about what you could become, you only want to think about now and how things progress. Whatever happens, happens. That’s it. Could you pretend like you have no worries aside from who you’ll run into on the beach instead?

When your phone rang, you knew immediately who it could’ve been and although Hyeri walked ahead, acting like she couldn’t hear it, she was clearly listening. When you answered Jungkook’s call, he was quick to ask about your plans for the upcoming weekend.

✧

“You want to take me sailing?”

Despite the early hours where the sun has yet to shine through, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Even walking along the dock following after Jungkook who led the way through the darkness of the starry sky. “Or are you plotting my murder?”

“Which would you prefer I do?” He asked teasingly, looking back at you with a grin, “But seriously, it’ll be fun.”

Fun wasn’t waking up before the sun did, nor was it following a man you barely know out to the sea. If it weren’t for Hyeri begging you to take up his offer, you wouldn’t be here right now.

The sailing yacht was bigger than you expected with a small cabin area below deck to sleep and wash up in. You’ve never been on a sailboat before but you didn’t think they would look this nice and clean.

“This is yours?” You asked, watching him put in the arm work to undo the rope that tied the boat to the dock.

“Um, yeah,” Jungkook answered blandly, “Kinda?”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah, it’s mine,” he cleared his throat, helping you carry your bag down to the room before bringing you back up to the galley, “I used to be on a sailing team when I was in school and after I graduated I got this for my friends and I.”

“Nice,” You looked around, still in shock at the size of the sails. It was a Beneteau Oceanis 48 with such a sleek, clean look you were scared to sit on any part of it. You wanted to ask how much it was but resisted the urge to, scared you’d sound rude.

Still half asleep, you watched Jungkook set sail behind the wheel, his jacket already off and the sleeves of his linen shirt.

“Sleep a little, we’ve got time,” he said lastly.

It went easy between you two, you felt comfortable and for some reason safe with him enough to letyourself relax around him. You can't remember falling asleep but at some point you had and when you were woken up it was with him dropping anchor in the middle of the open sea.

The waves were calm, breathtaking deep blue and you could see the line of gold separating the ocean from the sky. It was beginning to warm up but you still shivered in your thin sweater, looking up feeling awestruck by the view.

"Look who's finally awake," Jungkook said softly as he secured the wheel and came over to where you sat. He grabbed his jacket — that he had grown too hot for — and placed it over your front. You took in the light scent of his cologne that lingered on the Northface and thanked him, "You said I could sleep."

"I know," he sat across from you, looking at you with a gentle look on his eyes, "I did wake you up pretty early, but look at the view. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's nice," You leaned against the edge of the seat, staring down at the dark navy blue water, almost catching your reflection in it. The line of gold was beginning to widen and a circle of light was bouncing off the ocean beautifully. "If you plan on pushing me over the edge, now's the time."

"You're dumb," he laughed, kicking your foot with his playfully. You smiled, trying not to laugh as you looked at him, "Aren't you cold?"

"No, it's hard work getting a sail boat out and I was starting to sweat," Jungkook lifted an arm, flexing it, "But these guns never fail me."

"That's too bad, I was hoping you'd want to keep me warm but I don't want you to overheat," You teased, looking at him invitingly and his eyes shifted to the open space next to you. To set it off, you even winked.

"You know what, now that you mention it, being surrounded by this sea breeze is making me a little chilly," Jungkook pretended to shiver as he got up.

"The sun's rising, I'm sure you'll warm up again really soon," You said as he sat next to you, touching your leg and making you put it on his lap.

"Who knows, I'm suddenly freezing, come closer," he rested his arm on the back of your seat, pulling you onto his lap, "I heard body heat is good to warm up."

"You can always just put your jacket on," You pretended to argue making him roll your eyes, almost sassily.

"But you look so much better in it," He brushed hair out of your face that the wind blew over, finger softly tracing the side of your face.

"I hate to admit this but... you're too good to be true," You said honestly, shifting your gaze away, "Like, too perfect."

"But I'm not," Jungkook argued quietly, "I'm just... I don't know, I'm not acting like myself—or maybe I am and haven't realized it but I think it's you. I want to impress you."

You didn't know how to respond but he didn't mind. He was more focused on the soft glimmer in your eye as you watched the sky turn a powder blue with orange, hearing the seagulls and light whooshing sound of the sails.

It's bad how affected you're leaving him and you don't even know it.

"Y/n," Jungkook tried getting your attention again, leaned his head against your shoulder. You didn't have to say anything to know what he was asking. The first soft brush of his lips against your jaw had you succumbing to his effect. He tilted your chin with the tip of his fingers, catching your lips with his, finally.

How do you describe it?

How do you explain how soft and tender his lips felt? How his fingers grazing your skin sent a shiver down your spine and how he was surprisingly very loving with his affection?

This man who you barely knew and trusted too much was making you melt in his arms, kissing you and making it feel like you've never been kissed before.

"This is bad," he mumbled against your lips, pulling back to catch his breath, eyes still closed, "I really like you."

You gave him one quick peck of a kiss, sitting up, "Tell me all about it then."

Jungkook couldn't he'll but crack a grin, licking the taste of you off his lips. He wouldn't be able to shut up if he did.

You're beautiful, stunning, truly.

Even with your face in sand or your hair a mess, a scowl or pout, just beautiful to him. It was so stupid for him to be swayed by that but it's obviously what pulled him in first.

You were so mean—he thought, at least—but it never stopped him from approaching you. It's like he knew it wasn't your intention to come off so cold and when you'd joke back with him, he could see the hint of mischief in your eyes. It made him want to push your buttons or say something he knew would get a reaction from you.

You're different and he wishes it didn't sound so stupid like he knew you would think if he ever told you but you are. You're like no one he's met—really met, beyond surface level interests or habits. You responded differently, looked at him differently, treated him different.

"I won't shut up if I do," he said honestly, "Can't I just show you, instead?"

"How suggestive," you giggled, letting him kiss you again. There was more force to it this time, like he really meant it. The first one was firm and teasing, really testing the waters when his hand disappeared into your hair to keep you from pulling away.

You were spending the golden hour of the late sunrise with Jungkook sailing on a boat in the ocean. The view was amazing and his lips were so soft.

His lip ring is surprisingly warm when it brushes your lips, and his tongue feels slick against yours. He held you closely making you feel secure and safe [?], and at one point you made it onto his lap, practically straddling him.

You pressed closer to him eagerly and the movement makes his hands travel toward your hips for support, his jacket long forgotten on the floor. The seat was hard underneath him but if he mentioned it you might pull away and that's the last thing he wanted in the moment. Jungkook liked kissing you, he liked feeling your lips trail down his jaw and toward his neck where you didn't shy away from leaving open mouth kissed against his Adam's apple or under his ear.

"Y/n—" his hands circled around you tighter, "Have you gotten a good look at the cabin?"

Your brows furrowed momentarily, looking down the short steps to the cabin door where a big bed was seen through the window, "No, want to show me?"

You began to get up from Jungkook's lap, making his hands slide off down your hip, leading you to the cabin.

Jungkook wasn’t as subtle as he hoped to be when he pressed you into his chest, peppering your shoulder with light and teasing kisses taking you further into the room. A small smile played on your lips when you turned to face him, circling your arms around his neck.

He didn’t question it when you walked him toward the bed instead, making him sit down as you kissed and straddling him once more. You were a good kissed and Jungkook could attest to that by the way your tongue slid between his lips to seek his out. It was a surprise for you to be so forward with him but he wasn’t complaining at all. If anything it made him want to take it further. He wasn’t shy with his touches anymore and you could feel his hands circle down to your butt, pressing you firmly into his lap.

It was hard to ignore his arousal from your simple make-out. It was evident in his shorts and it made you want to keep going. You began to rock your hips against him lightly, feeling his growing bulge apply pressure between your legs.

“Can we get this off?” Jungkook asked about your jacket first, feeling you miles away and when you unzipped it, you pulled off your shirt too leaving him breathless, “You’re bolder than I thought.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You asked, watching his fingers trace down your bare sides, looking at your bra and chest. His finger hooked into the hem of your jeans as if to teasingly ask if they can come off next and you gave him the go ahead, starting to unbutton his shirt for him.

“Never,” he sighed, eyes closing when your hands touched his muscular chest. His hands snuck under her jeans playing with your underwear and grinding your hips against his worn more purpose drawing out a small groan in the process.

When your hips began to move on their own, teasing his aching member, he leaned forward to kiss along your neck, finding your pulse points with ease and reaching behind you for the clasp of your bra to get it off next.

Your arms circled his neck, hugging his head close to feel his lips on your skin and moved your hips with more determined rhythm. You’d be lying if you said his kisses weren’t turning you on and sending shivers down your spine. Jungkook slid your bra off letting it hit the floor while you wrestled his opened shirt off his shoulders and hugged him in a kiss.

“You’re so sexy,” Jungkook whispered, kissing the soft mound of your breasts, “Even when I had you in the ground covered in sand that’s all I could think about.”

“And here I thought it was my personality that drew you in,” You teased, letting him finally turn you on your back beneath him. He pulled your jeans off leaving you in your small slither of panty.

“Trust me, it did,” Jungkook said, kissing along your thighs, “Hurt my feelings that the pretty girl from the beach couldn’t care less about me.”

“A real shot to your ego,” you raised your knees

Jungkook leaned forward to catch your lips in a kiss, hovering over your body, “It really was.”

A small gasp left your lips as you felt his hand trace down the curve of your sides, slipping into your underwear and feeling the soft slope of your nether region. Your thighs parted more, letting his finger tease your clit.

“I wasn’t too impressed in the beginning,” You joked, lifting your hips when you felt his finger begin to feel around your folds, surely finding where the slick began to puddle. He used the wetness to coat your clit, raising a light sigh from your lips there he swallowed in a kiss.

“I’m well aware,” Jungkook whispered against your lips. You rose your hips to meet his hand, finding some stimulation that made your body respond with raise bumps in pleasure, “What about now?”

As he asked, his coated middle finger finally pressed into your wet cunt, with his palm against your clit and grinding into it as he pushed his finger into the hilt. You dug your nails into his tatted forearm to ground yourself against the sudden feeling and holding back the loud moan that almost slipped. He smiled, clearly amused by your reaction. He maneuvered his hand around so his thumb could find your clit and with it covered in your arousal it made the slide so much easier.

Jungkook’s long finger slide into your pussy with slight restriction, curling when he pushed all the way in and finding that sweet spot that had your breath hitching and probing at it. You were at a loss for words and he loved it, it made him want to kiss you as he brought you pleasure with just his hand. He wasn’t even asking for a response anymore, he was just trying to tell you how he’s felt while he makes you feel good on an expensive sail boat in the sea.

The sunrise had long been forgotten and replaced by the thought of how good he made you feel and he was happy about that.

"Oh, fuck." You gasped, gripping his armas he hooks his finger at just the right angle. You didn’t even have to tell him that was the spot that made your toes curl, it’s like he just knew it.

"Like it?" He asked, repeating his previous action, kissing along your neck for added stimulation.

He could feel you on edge of orgasm by the way you pinched his arm but he didn’t care about the slight sting. He cared more for the glazed look in your eyes, walls tightening around his finger.

It’s like he knew exactly when the last push would be, and his pace grew more rough, ready to get you there and finally your body gave way to pleasure.

“Pretty,” Jungkook said softly, feeling your release around his hand, letting you ride out your high and pulling his hand back when you were ready. Your breathing was shallow and the sight of your breasts falling and rising with each breath was hypnotizing. When he pulled back, he couldn’t stand the constriction of his shorts anymore. Without thinking, he licked your release off his hand before yanking his shorts down along with his usual Calvin Kleins.

Jungkook didn’t say he was ready to go further, but you could tell just by the way his cock sprung free from its confines. It was pretty and long, not too think nor skinny and fit his physique perfectly. He stroked himself here and there for some friction but didn’t hurry you along. Instead, he let you catch your breath as he watched in awe at the fact that he had you in bed with him.

“Come here,” you motioned for him to come closer with your index finger and sat up, fully naked before him and getting him in the bed with you. Jungkook followed in a trance, kissing you thoughtlessly and nearly biting your lip in surprise when your fingers touched the tip of his dick, feeling the pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

You barely had your hand wrapped around his pretty cock, giving him a small jerk up his length when his fingers circled around your waist to stop you, “Not tonight.”

You tried to read the expression in his eyes but he just kissed you lovingly, “I want to feel you, all of you.”

“What a giver,” You said playfully, kissing the tip of his nose and laying back with him following after you. He held your legs apart, lining his cock at your entrance, “Can I? I’ll pull out.”

You gave a nod of your head, looking down as his cock pressed forward, aching to feel the tightness of your wet walls hugging him.

You’re not sure what came over you then, but the feel of his dick pushing past your entrance made you feel bold. Your leg hooked around his waist, pulling him forward and watching how his jaw went slack. Jungkook looked down at how eagerly you took him and his arms nearly gave out, eyes rolling as he processed the sudden pleasure.

You still needed a moment to adjust to his size and he practically fused himself to your body, trapping you beneath his muscular figure, “Fuck.”

His movements were slow at first, thrusting gently to find what felt good and what didn’t, running gentle hands over your breasts so he could feel the fullness of them. When he thrusted his hard length in, his thumbs were circled your nipples, pulling his cock out and pinching at them. Something about the leg you had around him drove him wild, feeling your territoriality over him even if there was a chance it meant nothing.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly at a particularly harsh thrust, scratching at his back unintentionally, “Feels good.”

Something was happening inside of him that he couldn’t explain. He wanted to say things he shouldn’t, things that were too soon to admit and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself. The only other way he could stop himself from sounding like a fool was with his mouth on you and the closest thing to him were your perky nipples.

Jungkook never slowed the steady pace he set fucking you but with the added pleasure to your chest, his tongue circling around your nipple and sucking lightly, had you seeing stars. You’d nearly forgotten where you were till you looked out the windows, seeing the clear sky and the pretty water making this all feel more surreal.

Jungkook hugged you close, hand gripping your thigh and inching it higher around himself as he fucked you rougher, taking pleasure in bringing you close again and this time around he couldn’t bother being as gentle. He wanted to, he swears, but he’s so turned on by you that he couldn’t be patient at all. You didn’t even seem to mind when his hips slammed into yours, turning you to lay on your side, fucking yourself on his cock with more vigor knowing he needed release too, and let him manhandle you however he wanted. His free hand snuck into your hair, pulling slightly when he dragged you into another kiss and groaned against your lips.

Neither of you had to say anything to know you were both close, and it made you impatient. You moaned at the roughness, letting yourself get lost in the feeling unripe you couldn’t take it anymore, once again cumming with little control of yourself. He held you so roughly to his body, not letting you go as you struggled to catch your breath and you knew it was taking everything in him to not let go inside you. That’s the only thing that had you pushing away from him, trying to sneak a hand down to touch him but the second you did, his cock spilled thick cum into your hand, creamy and white. You wanted a taste badly.

Jungkook moaned your name quietly, feeling pathetic to cum so easily by your hand but he couldn’t hold back anymore. It took him longer to bounce back than you, and when he opened his eyes he caught you pressing a finger to your tongue, taking a small taste that left him shuddering.

“Don’t do that,” his voice said, raspy and tired tone.

“You did it to me,” You said, licking your finger clean, “And you made a mess.”

“Sorry,” he couldn’t help but pout, looking surprisingly cute to you even with his hair a sweaty mess and the afterglow of sex on his naked body, “Kiss?”

A grin spreads over his face when you lean in to kiss him, happily kissing you back more gently now.

“Would I sound wimpy if I said I needed a nap?” It pained him to even ask but he was suddenly so tired and relaxed in your arms. It made him feel unmanly to even think to ask but he couldn’t help it, he could lay in bed all day with you if it was an option, “We can worry about breakfast later—perhaps when it’s consider lunch or an afternoon snack.”

You laughed softly, snuggling into him further, “Let me at least clean up a little and then we can sleep for as long as you want.”

Jungkook smiled happily, letting you leave to the bathroom as he hurriedly tugged the bedding off. He wasn’t too worried about the boat, knowing he properly set anchor and the water was calm today. If anything the light rocking of the boat could lull him to sleep if you were in his arms.

“Are you sick of me yet?” Jungkook asked, watching you drift in and out of sleep as he drove away from the shipping dock. It was the evening and the hours spent in the open sun was exhausting, even with how sweet it felt. At least he thinks you might feel that way.

If he were being honest, he could still be with you longer. There hadn’t been enough hours in the day for him, “Or do you think we could still get dinner?”

“We can, but I need a shower, I’m sticky and sweaty,” You said absentmindedly, catching the way he bit his lip with a smirk that had you smacking his arm, “Don’t be gross.”

“I didn’t say anything,” He laughed, grinning as he thought about the way you said his name when you were naked in his arms, “But, I want to take you to my family home. My parents are gone for the weekend and it’s closer than my apartment.”

“Are you hiding your apartment from me?” You asked jokingly.

“No, but I live with Jimin and I want to be selfish and have you to myself longer so your place is out of the question too,” Jungkook admitted.

“And what am I supposed to wear? I didn’t really pack clothes,” You looked down at his linen shirt you currently wore, only panties underneath thinking you’d be going home after the eventful day.

“Something mine, you look good in what’s mine,” Jungkook said with a wink, “I’ll make us something nice—maybe get something ordered…”

“Oh I guess.”

You didn’t question the drive away from the houses lining the beach in his pick up truck. You stared out the window and watched the view turn more scenic would hillsides and small rocky edges, more nature-esque.

Songs played quietly that Jungkook would sometimes hum along too with a perfect pitch that had looking over at him from time to time. When he would catch you looking, he’d stop immediately and tighten his hands over the steering wheel.

He was nervous.

His family home was empty and he could go to it whenever he pleased but did he really want to bring you along? Open up another side of himself just for a few more moments alone? Did you mean this much to him?

Swallowing his nerves, he turned down a private road with tall trees and white gravel. It stretched on for a mile before ending at private gates. You sat up, slightly more aware of what was going on when he lowered his window to type in some code, hearing someone speak through an intercom, ‘Welcome home, sir.’

He could feel your eyes on him and he just smiled, “Wash up first?”

“Please,” You said, looking away, staring straight ahead at the colonial house that appeared in view. It was obscenely large with endless windows and greenery surrounding it making it all the more intimidating.

This is his family home, yours couldn’t compare.

Still, you tried not to question it.

Jungkook didn’t bother driving back to the private garage, he pulled up to the circular driveway by the fountain of a water nymph and got out of his truck, opening the door for you. It should’ve dawned on him that something was going to happen. The lights were on when no one should be home.

Still, he’s already brought you this far.

“Jungkook?”

His hand stopped at the handle of your door, just barely pulling it open but with little room for you to step out. You stopped moving instantly, watching the way he visibly stiffened, face hardening as he looked off to the distance.

“You’re here, what a surprise.”

“Mom,” he turned around immediately, “I thought you guys weren’t home.”

“Well, if you would answer the phone, when I call, you would know your father’s trip was canceled,” a women in a tweed Chanel suit and a tight smile stepped down from the entrance, “You’ve brought company?”

As if being summoned, Jungkook looked at you, motioning for you to step out and although you didn’t want you, you did—undressed and exhausted. The woman was stunning and classy like you’d never seen, somewhat taken back that she was the mother of the beach boy you’ve met.

Not to mention, it was too early to meet anyone’s parents. It made you sick to your stomach even as you smiled politely, “Hello.”

“This is Y/n,” Jungkook reached for your hand, “We were just stopping by.”

“When you thought no one was home?” She asked, making you look at him. He was grown, clearly, but still scolded and questioned like a child.

Jungkook didn’t say anything but you could feel him squeeze your hand when her eyes traveled over your barely dressed figure. He at least had on a t-shirt that was in his truck and his shorts.

“Why don’t the two of you clean up, we’re having dinner on the terrace,” She said looking unimpressed, “I’ll have a maid find you something more appropriate.”

“Oh, we don’t want to bo—“

“We have guests so don’t make a scene, I already had to make an excuse for why you wouldn’t be here, you can’t leave now. Even if you do have sudden company.”

That shut Jungkook up quicker than you’d ever seen. It wasn’t that you couldn’t catch on to what was happening, but more so you could wrap your mind around the reality of it. You moved almost as robotically as he did, sneaking into the house unsure what was going on aside from doing as told. He took you into his bedroom, pulling you in the bathroom with him and washing up. His entire demeanor changed and you didn’t know what to do.

“Should I go? I could probably get Hoseok to get me,” You told him honestly. You weren’t upset — not yet. As far as you knew, Jungkook might have a complicated relationship with his parents meeting the person he’s sleeping with, especially considering how recent things are with you. Neither of you are ready to meet the family, it’s just fun summer things. You’d say the biggest shock was that Jungkook seemed to be wealthy and likes to keep that private but does that make you worried?

“No, I want you here with me,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard and opening the door to his room, finding something folded on the edge of his bed. He handed it to you without much thought as he got dressed.

It was nothing crazy, just a light colored sundress and you had to dry off quickly so you could join him downstairs. Part of you wanted to call your friends but what would it mean if you did?

“What a surprise, brother, and I see you’ve finally brought someone new along,” an arrogant voice spoke up from the large dinner table on the terrace. It was a candle lit dinner with six guests aside from the two of you and you immediately reconciled a familiar face.

“Hello, sorry for keeping everyone waiting,” Jungkook said stiffly, “This is Y/n.”

“We’ve met,” Yeaun said when the others looked at you confused. Their greetings were bland and uncaring but you tried not to think too hard on it, “On the beach, right?”

“Yes, I remember,” You tried to smile, looking at Jungkook just as confused as everyone.

“Yeaun is a family friend,” Jungkook explained to you.

“An ex-fiancée,” His mother said coldly, making him freeze.

Why was she saying this?

“Darling,” an older version of Jungkook with salt and pepper hair said to his wife in warning.

“We’re on good terms though,” Yeaun smiled tightly, “Things have been changing recently, haven’t they?”

She asked you like you would know—like you were the reason for it but you were too stuck on what she was to care.

Ex-what?

“So, are you still going with the firm?” A woman sitting next to his brother said to him. That made his brother laugh, “He’s still playing around Jin’s auto shop.”

“Is everyone already eating? What about us?” Jungkook looked at you suddenly, “Should we get served?”

The firm? What firm? What fiancée? What was going on?

“Y/n, what about you? Are you new in town? Who are your parents?” The dad asked, making all heads turn toward you, a member of who you assumed was house staff, began to serve you and Jungkook dinner.

“Dad,” Jungkook tried to say but he didn’t get very far.

“I’m just here for the summer, I’m from the city,” You told him with a smile.

“How’d you meet?” Jungkook’s mother asked.

“On the beach,” You told her plainly. She didn’t say anything in response but you could feel the way her eyes narrowed at you like she was trying to read you. You weren’t lying or anything but it felt like she didn’t believe you. Under the table, Jungkook’s hand touched your thigh but in all honesty you didn’t even want him to touch you. It’s not anything serious, you were just confused and uncomfortable in this situation. He should’ve just taken you home or let you call Hoseok.

“A city girl, huh? You must have a big job, right? What do you do?” His brother asked.

“I’m in between work right now,” You said honestly, just as you had told Jungkook who seemed to be open to that idea and understood why. Sometimes, doing the same routine in a career you didn’t have passion anymore left you drained and you needed a change of pace. You explained this to him and he made it all feel okay so why were you being looked at strangely?

“So wasting your time over here is what you want to be doing?” His mom asked.

Jungkook took a deep breath, wanting to speak up but unsure how to do so. He obviously hasn’t told you anything but his relationship with his family is complicated. The added guests made it all the worse. Has he always been such a coward?

“That’s what it seems like,” You said bitterly, looking over at Jungkook with a cold expression.

You don’t remember much of the rest of dinner, only that you hated every second of it and how you just wanted to go home. You checked out of all conversations after a while and watched the tension between them with little interest. What you’ve learned is that Jungkook is good at keeping things from others even when he begs to know more himself.

The irony, it was annoying. By the end of dinner, you didn’t care to know what any of them had to say, much less Yeaun who everyone continued to remind you was his ex that they all loved dearly. They were saying it for a reason, like if you wanted to take her place and be with Jungkook who belonged to a group of people who won’t let outsiders in.

“Well at least she’s pretty,” you remember being told.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Jungkook said after dinner but you didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Instead, you led the way to his truck so he could take you home.

The car ride was so eerily silent that it felt deafening. He tried and tried to talk to you but you just ignored him, not caring at all for whatever might come out of his mouth and he can’t really blame you.

“You lied to me,” You said finally, staring holes into his dashboard.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jungkook admitted, “Everything I’ve said to you is true.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking out the dark window, “Just take me home.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook reached across the middle console for your hand but you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted away from him even more, “I’m sorry, we should’ve just gone somewhere el—“

“Look, it was never going to work out anyway so just take me home and we can both go on with our lives because clearly we’re nothing alike at all,” You said bitterly, “I was just dumb enough to believe we are. It’s been a long day.”

He wanted to argue but for the first time since he’s met you, he’s left silent. He’s a coward, he’s aware of that now and it felt sickening to realize it finally. He’s always been the type to do what he’s told, follow the plan his parents have set out for him and this is the first time he’s realizing how much he hates it.

When the truck pulled up to the front of your house, he began to unbuckle his belt, quietly saying, “I’ll walk you to the d—“

The car door slammed shut in the middle of his words and although he knew it was better for him to give you space, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t let you walk off on him without trying to really hear him out—just let him get his thoughts together. As pathetic as it sounds, Jungkook feels like a kid again. He feels anxious to be ignored or scolded.

Without a care for gentleness, he swung his side door open to the large truck and got down to follow after you, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize they would be home and if I did I wouldn’t have invited you over. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“That’s not the problem, Jungkook,” you said back to him, “The problem is that you’re so secretive about everything and fine, whatever, you don’t have to tell me but don’t act like you want to know anything about me then if I can’t expect the same.”

You released a sigh at his silence, turning away, “Go home.”

Your front door slammed in his face shutting him out and he could see people staring through the window; probably overhearing everything and he wanted to disappear. When had things gotten so complicated for him?

He missed the days when he didn’t have anything to worry about but now that he’s starting to see the people around him more clearly, he’s realizing he doesn’t like it at all.

✧

It took you days to think about Jungkook again, mostly because you wanted to ignore him and he was making it easy for you. He has only messaged and called a couple times before he got the hint that you don’t want to talk to him and gave up.

You can’t tell if you preferred that or wished he kept trying but you had to move on. The two of you weren’t dating, you hooked up on a boat before realizing his family are pretentious assholes and wanted nothing to do with him now.

You know he’s not his family but at the same time these are people he surrounds himself with and if he was attracted to someone like Yeaun, there was no way he was into you too. You barely know her but you know enough to see that you’re nothing alike.

“What are you looking at?” Hoseok asked, looming over your shoulder.

“Apartments, I still can’t find anything good, I think I need to go home for a few days and do some in-person tours,” You told him with a sigh, scrolling through listings, sitting alone in the beach themed living room that looked fresh out of a cape cod magazine.

“It’s not a quick commute,” He said, “Besides, I already said you can stay with me till we find you a place, there’s no rush.”

“I know, but there’s nothing better to do,” You said with a shrug.

“It’s called avoiding,” Hyeri said, sitting on the edge of the couch, “So Y/n’s probably not gonna come back if she leaves now. You’re mad at Jungkook.”

“No, I’m not,” you rolled your eyes, “That’s over and I haven’t done anything but laze around all day. I need to get my shit together.”

You just want to go home.

“What’s up with you? You’ve looked mad all day,” Jimin pointed out as he mindlessly dug his feet into the sand. He’s dragged Jungkook out after days of not seeing him but his friend couldn’t care less about the beach or hanging out with him. He actually didn't want to hang out with anyone.

“Is it the thing from the other night?” Jimin asked like it was so simple, “Yeaun was talking about it, so you’ve introduced your new girl to the family and it didn’t go so well?”

“Jimin.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really my friend?” Jungkook asked, sitting at the bottom of one of the net posts, squinting up at the sun.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been around since you were in diapers, you’re like a brother to me,” Jimin said with a laugh, “I just don’t agree with some of the decisions you make.”

“Like?” He pressed for more.

“I don’t know, I just think you have a lot going for you and lately you’ve been acting like you don’t,” Jimin said, shrugging, “You passed the Bar Exam a while ago and instead of going to your dad’s firm you’re wasting time at Jin’s. You don’t answer the phone when your family calls and you ignore your friends for…”

“Say it.”

“For some chick you don’t know,” Jimin scoffed, “I don’t get it. It’s always been you and I, Chaehi and Yeaun. Always. Since we were kids and suddenly you break it off with one of the only girls who’s been here for you and find someone new to entertain yourself with. It’s weird.”

“Asshole,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, kicking off the ground and leaving his friend behind. He wasn’t sure where he was going but he just wanted to be alone.

Were you really just some girl? Is that what everyone thought? Yes, things had been incredibly easy with you but did that mean you weren’t anything more than a fling? As dramatic as it sounds, every interaction with you has been probably the best he’s ever had.

You’re funny, pretty, smart, and so much more than he ever imagined. You pulled him in and pushed him away in the best way possible. Of course it’s been strange getting rejected but you do it in a way that tells him to keep going. You were always there to listen to his obnoxious flirting and when he did decide to tell you anything about himself, you didn’t judge.

He’s so stupid for not doing the same. He wanted you to open up to him because he wanted to get closer to you but he didn’t allow himself to do it too. It was unfair so he understands why you’re mad but he can’t stand it.

He wants to call you but would you want to listen?

Jungkook found himself walking toward the boardwalk hoping the bustling energy from midday was enough to distract him. He thinks you remind him of something different, being somewhere different where he didn’t have to worry so much about what he did or who he was with. Jimin’s right that lately Jungkook hasn’t been doing anything to be apart of his family’s plans for him. He’s kind of been trying to live in the moment and clearly that wasn’t so bad. That’s how he met you and besides, it’s not like he hasn’t been thinking about his future. He just doesn’t see it here in this small town where everyone knows his name. He sees himself somewhere far in the city where he could just blend in with everyone else and do what he wants to do, be with who he wants to. It’s you, it’s seriously you.

You’ve opened up his eyes a little and he hates that his lack of honesty has pushed you away. He can’t even blame it on the uncomfortable dinner because if he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve done more. He can’t deny that there’s something up with him and he has no doubt in his mind that you have something to do with it. Barely knowing you has done so much more for him than the people he’s known all his life.

Your best friends wanted you to forget about your plans on leaving, knowing you too well to believe you would come back. You’re not the type to do so. If you set your mind on leaving, even for a short time, you wouldn’t come back especially knowing you could run into Jungkook whenever. Maybe you were a coward too because all you ever wanted to do was run away when things get complicated and the last thing you had wanted was for this trip to get that way too.

They dragged you out of the house for a late lunch that you weren’t even hungry for and as a way to distract you but it did the complete opposite of that. Instead, you were brought to that restaurant you came to with Jungkook and the same server who you’ve seen now talk with a girl Yeaun was always around. They were friends and it should’ve been the first sign that you would never get him. You were never part of the plan around here, you were a step back to everyone involved with him and it made you bitter.

How’d you catch the attention of someone so unavailable?

“Come on, I haven’t bought a single thing here, I’ve been too busy working on my tan,” Hyeri said, pulling you along behind her to a clothing stand of sundresses, “We’ve got a few more weeks here, I think it’s time I fit the vibe, right?”

“Yeah,” You told her, looking through the rack of dresses absentmindedly. You wandered away just a little, to a table filled with jewelry and ran your fingers over certain metals and gems. You weren’t thinking much on what was going on around you, too distracted choosing between gold and silver to notice the person standing yards away looking stunned.

For the first time in over a week, Jungkook has found you again, on the beach, looking as breathtaking as usual. After all you’ve been avoiding him, he can’t help but hesitate. Does he approach you or not?

“Y/n?”

You looked up, brows furrowed slightly at who stood in front of you, “Yeaun.”

“Hey! How good to see you,” She smiled her usual tight smile that never quite reached her eyes. Up close you could see just how perfect she must seem to everyone from her height to her figure and tone of voice. She usually wore gold accessories and bikini tops or dresses. She was your perfect ‘Girl Next Door’ but if you paid enough attention to some of the things she said, you’d see how backhanded it all seemed.

“It was such a surprise to see you the other night. I guess none of us knew you were with Jungkook,” Yeaun said it so casually even if you could tell she was prying, “Where is he by the way?”

“Why don’t you ask his mother? The two of you seem close,” You tried not to sound bitter but you’re sure your body language gave away that you were. You searched for Hyeri who was looking at dresses on herself in the mirror and Hoseok left to get snow cones so once again, you were alone in her presence.

“Yeah, sorry about that, our parents go way back,” Yeaun said with a wave of her hand, “It’s a small town, y’know. Everyone knew we were high school sweethearts and when we got engaged everyone was so excited. You can imagine their surprise when we broke it off—sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about this again. I’m sure Jungkook has said enough.”

“It might sound strange but he doesn’t bring you up at all,” You told her, failing to say how you haven’t talked to him, “I guess he got over it a long time before anyone else did.”

“I guess so,” her stupid smile once again, “I like you, you’re good for him and I’m sorry if his family seemed closed off. They’re kind of exclusive with who they bring around. They don’t want just anyone around their sons. I’m sure you can see why, Jungkook is perfect, right? A lawyer in the making, athletic, kind…”

“Silver or gold?” You asked, holding up two different sets of earrings. She blinked in surprise, choosing one and trying to carry on, “What I mean is, he’s the whole package so everyone wants him but he also has a lot of responsibilities. If someone isn’t able to stand behind them all and support him… maybe they’re not the right fit—especially if they won’t stick around.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, setting the earrings back down and smiling, amused by her audacity, “Who broke it off with who?”

“It was mutual.”

“Doesn’t sound like it was,” You said with a smile, beginning to walk away from her, “But don’t worry, I don’t usually like competing for someone’s attention. I guess I didn’t realize you did, so good luck.”

“Meaning?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Meaning, you’re wasting your breath talking to me because I don’t care what you have to say,” You said sweetly, “But it was so nice seeing you again, hopefully next time we’ll have something new to talk about.”

With that, you left her behind, nearly walking past Hyeri on the way, “Where you going?”

“My phone’s dying, I’m going the house,�� you told her quickly, continuing to leave before anyone else could run into you.

“What’d you say to Y/n?” Jungkook asked, pushing his way through the crowds of people, getting to the stand too late and watching you walk away.

“Nothing,” Yeaun raised her hands in feigned surrender, “I was just catching up. Why so worried?”

“Where’s she going?” Jungkook asked Hyeri, ignoring Yeaun who called for him.

“To the house?” Hyeri said, confused by whatever she missed but she couldn’t even ask when Jungkook practically ran after you.

You cut through the beach instead of taking the long route down the street. You walked farther and farther away from him but he never stopped.

“Y/n! Can we talk?” He asks, catching you by surprise but you didn’t even act like it. You merely threw him a glance before walking faster.

“I’m kind of in a hurry,” You lied, stepping over the grassy parts in the white sand where you could see more residential properties.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really am, I should’ve been more up front from the beginning but I swear I didn’t keep things from you to hurt you,” Jungkook said, not stopping his pace even when he can see your house in the distance.

“It’s fine, I’m over it,” You told him, not turning back again as you looked up at the back deck of your house. You still walked closer to down the shore than the trail but you would get there soon.

“But I’m not, I… can’t stand the thought of you being done with me,” Jungkook said honestly, “Since I’ve met you all I can do is think about you and I’m kicking myself over letting you find things out in a hard way. I don’t like the way you were talked to and I should’ve said more but I didn’t and I regret it so much.”

“Jungkook, I don’t care,” you groaned, whipping around to face him, “I don’t care that you kept things from me. I don’t care that there’s something seriously wrong with your family or your ex fiancée. I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m not good enough for you and do you want to know why? Because it’s the summer and I’m not from here and it was fun to fool around in the moment but it’s too complicated now. I don't want anything to do with it. Are you getting it now? I want to go home and forget all about this.”

“You want to leave?” He asked, getting closer and closer, “And what happens then? We just never see each other again because I didn’t mean anything to you?”

“I guess if that’s how you’re seeing it—“

“Bullshit,” He scoffed, “I don’t care how long we’ve known each other or not, you want me just as much as I want you but you’re letting everything else get in the way. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I can say or do to express that.”

“I’m leaving,” You argued, stepping away, “I’m going back to my normal life and you can go back to yours. Stop making this a bigger deal than it was.”

“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you’re the best thing to happen to me in a while and the thought of you just leaving doesn’t sit right with me? What if I say I don’t want this to just be a summer thing and I will follow you wherever you go if it means I get to talk to you more?” Jungkook kept going.

“Oh my god, Jungkook. Open your eyes! Join the real world, please!” You groaned, too frustrated to bother getting away, “We still don’t know much about each other, clearly. You live in this perfect little bubble with people who care about you and have plans for you. Why can’t you see that? Why are you wanting to throw that away for someone you barely know?”

“I’m not mad, I promise,” You tried to say, “Our lives are just too different and I’m ready to go back to mine—“

Your words were cut off by the rough pull into his arms. Jungkook’s touch was tender yet forceful, dragging your face toward his until your lips clashed messily and you kissed him back. Like a fool, you kissed him too despite everything you were saying.

It made your heart race, practically feeling his want for you and unable to help yourself from succumbing to it.

He can’t remember how long the kiss was, but long enough for his chest to grow heavy with a need to breathe that he had to pull away. His forehead rested against yours, “If you still want to leave… okay. I can’t make you stay but I really want you to, Y/n.”

You didn’t say anything, knowing you did want to leave. At this point it was more for yourself. No matter how harsh they were, they were right. You needed to get your act together and stop avoiding the problems in your life and that meant you needed to go home.

“And I promise that I’m going to see you again whether it be here or somewhere else,” Jungkook said.

FOUR WEEKS LATER

Jungkook was enamored by city life, he’s grown to learn about himself. Something about the tall skyscrapers and bustling traffic excited him like no other while other people hated them. Of course he missed the beach, surfing, volleyball, his friends… but this was for himself. He needed to do something on his own even if it meant doing something unimaginable but it was for the better.

He misses working with cars but he knows better. He put all that work into law school just so he could avoid it and do something else and he needed that to stop. Even if he didn’t work in his father’s firm, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get his foot in the door somewhere else.

After you left and all his distractions were gone, he was able to focus more on what he wanted to do. He got on his laptop to look at internships at other law firms and one day, in his endless searching, he found a small office to work in. It was in the city and it didn’t take him long to pack up his things and go to it. It started problems—of course— but it didn’t stop him, especially knowing you were somewhere here too.

You’ve barely talked since you moved back but he still misses you. He missed you and him on the beach or sailing in the sea. He misses making you laugh or roll your eyes and he wonders how you’re doing. He kept in touch with Hoseok and Hyeri after you left and when they followed suit at the end of vacation, he wanted to ask them about you but he knew better. He knows you weren’t just a fling but maybe one day you’ll come back and give it another shot.

“Iced Americano?”

“I didn’t order one,” Jungkook said as he sat alone at a table in a nice cafe. He didn’t look up until the cup was set down in front of him and when he was ready to tell the barista it wasn’t for him, he froze.

“I know, you don’t really give me ‘Coffee Drinker’ vibes but I figured it was worth a shot,” You sat down across from him.

“Are you stalking me?” He asked, dumbfounded and confused but more excited than anything. He couldn’t believe you were here, at the same place as him by chance.

“Well, I was going to ask the same, this is my usual stop before work and I’ve never seen you here before,” You said, continuing the conversation with him like it never ended.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, “Well, you see, I’m new to town and trying new places since this is on my way to work.”

“Is it?” You asked, “You must live around here.”

“As it turns out I do,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “It’s a recent move but one I don’t regret.”

“How are you?” You asked with a shy smile and flushed cheeks, the autumn air beginning to take over.

“Better now—after this coffee I mean,” he teased, taking a sip and scrunching his face in disgust.

You bit your lip in thought, “Actually um, it’s good I’ve run into you. I think there’s some things we should talk about but I have to get to work soon.”

“Well I still have your number, and we can always catch up over dinner?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” You smiled nervously, standing up, “Tonight?”

That made his heart race, “It’s a date.”

::.

holy shit that took forever for me to update

idk how I feel about this but also after a while I think too hard on my work and can’t look at it anymore so please lmk when you think

permanent taglist

most of u are new but I tried to include some of my old, active members of the taglist and if I forgot about u pls lmk <3

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @saweetspoiled @babycandy111 @jeonninja @skzthinker @lilliankoo @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @whoa-jo @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @maryy1300 @annabtsangels @hyunjinswifeee @bangtans-momma @butterymin @kaiparkerwifes @junggukjeonfreakinwife @tridha345 @ily4jknity @ivygguk @ryuzakiswife-blog @futuristicenemychaos @honeybunnykoo @eunhee-jk @aindrila @cherrymoonlightt @parkinglot-nights @llallaaa @crooked-haven @butterflykpop @sakuragongju @ackward-maknae @investedreader @junggukjeonfreakinwife

[nvirskies]

sand - c. la rue

idea taken from one of @star-girl69 's asks about married clarisse and immediately went to think about how the vast majority of greek demigods didn't get to live past their 20's or even teen years... and the survivor's guilt that would come with being one of the few lucky enough to live longer.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, traumatic nightmare flashbacks, descriptions of violence, descriptions of blood + war, spoilers for TLO, set after both reader and clarisse leave CHB about 6-8 years into the future, google translated Greek term of endearment, crying, survivor's guilt, platonic RueGard, ooc Clarisse, she's matured more over time and more articulate with her feelings and words

summary: clarisse wakes up from a particularly bad nightmare in the middle of the night, reader comforts her through a breakdown

wife!fem!demigod!reader x wife!clarisse la rue

word count: 2.2k

καρδιά μου (kardiá mou) - my heart

Η καρδιά μου είναι η καρδιά σου (I kardiá mou eínai i kardiá sou) - my heart is your heart

"but you have more pieces of me than than desert has sand, and I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand" sand, alchemical: vol. 1, dove cameron

taglist: @lvrue @star-girl69 @azrielsdiary @petitegavotte @b0ok-lover

men, nsfw, non-sapphic, 16-/19+ dni

Greek demigods fell in love hard and fast with an unmatched intensity. They normally didn’t live long enough to even envision themselves in their adult lives, and why would they? Every day was a struggle to stay alive with monsters coming in from all angles and quests most didn’t come back from.

And that was why, as soon as the two of you graduated high school, Clarisse got down on a knee and proposed with the knowledge that you were the one she would want to spend the rest of her life, however long or short, with.

When you two had graduated college, the next thing in the books was to make it official in the courthouse, and that was what you had done. No extravagant party or ceremony, just a quiet day in the courthouse and a night in to celebrate.

But no matter how far the two of you ran from Camp Half-Blood, the nightmares never went away, never got better. As the years passed, more of the people you had considered friends died. One after the other, falling like cursed dominos, helplessly standing by as they all tumbled down.

Soon, the nightmares became more about the people that were lost than the monsters themselves. Nightly plagues of searingly painful memories from watching the life drain from so many demigods’ eyes burned themselves in both of your psyches.

All you could do was hope Charon would be kind enough to ferry them across the Styx without his payment of a silver coin.

And tonight certainly hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary with the two of you and your limbs interlaced in a protective embrace while sleep claimed your minds, as if the both of you could protect each other from the monsters both in and outside.

Your head, nestled into her chest. Her deep, rhythmic breathing made your hair flutter ever so slightly as she exhaled. Her arms, wrapped loosely around your waist, hands not-so-sneakily under the baggy shirt of hers you had stolen to wear as pajamas for the night. It was all perfect. Too perfect.

You would be damned fools to think that peace would last for so long. Demigods didn’t get peace, they didn’t get tranquility, and they especially didn’t get uninterrupted domestic bliss.

Unbeknownst to you, Clarisse’s face contorted into one of distress. Her arms pulled you in closer subconsciously as the all too familiar face of Morpheus greeted her with a sly smirk on his face in her dreams.

In moments, she was transported back to the Battle of Manhattan.

She was seventeen again.

Blood was everywhere. Abandoned weapons lay on the floor, the hands that once gripped them tightly, now loose and limp. Shrill screams echoed throughout the air, all cut short by gut-wrenching sounds of fatal injury. Metal cut through flesh. Acid burnt through metal. Flames licked and greedily consumed anything and everything as fuel.

Her feet felt heavy, her hands numb. She could do nothing but stand and watch it all unfold before her own eyes, forced to relive the carnage and devastation that had ripped through Manhattan on that fateful day.

Morpheus’ voice whispered in her right ear, the sound of it sending an uneasy chill down her spine. “Daughter of Ares. A fitting dream, no? Your father must have been proud of you for the way you fought after… well, I’ll let you relive that, too.” Before she could blink, she was transported to the moment right after Silena had been sprayed by the Lydian Drakon.

Clarisse was too late. She had always been too late.

She was back on her knees, choking and weeping bitterly as Silena lay in her arms, watching as life slowly left her once-lively eyes.

What kind of a warrior even was she? So weak that she couldn’t even protect her friend? Too weak to protect the girl who had adorned her armor and led her siblings into battle?

Just as Clarisse reached out to touch Silena’s face to wipe away the one mark of smudged eyeliner that the Aphrodite girl normally would never have even allowed to happen in the past, she was jerked back to consciousness, eyes flying open and arms almost crushing your sleeping form momentarily as she came to.

No longer was she in Manhattan, instead sheltered in the familiarly adorned walls of your shared bedroom. Upon the walls hung framed pictures of joyous times past and her sword collection, among other things.

Familiar faces stared back at her, some faces that would never age again. Immortalized memories of times that would never happen again. Everyone was dead or scattered across the globe.

A particular picture caught Clarisse’s eye. It was a portrait of Silena that she had commissioned one of the Apollo kids to draw for the daughter of Aphrodite’s seventeenth birthday.

She never lived to see that day.

Her eyes locked with Silena’s in the drawing for a moment, and that moment was one too much as hot tears began to prick in the corners of her eyes.

She had inadvertently woken you up with the way her arms tightened around your waist in a near vice grip, slowly coming to your senses. No longer were her breaths slow and rhythmic, their steadfast pattern replaced by one that was erratic and shallow. The once-steady thumping cadence of her heart as it beat in her chest was now quickened, all of which you could hear with your head having been nestled into her chest.

Craning your head to look up at her, you were greeted with the sight of Clarisse desperately trying to silently blink back tears and control her own breathing.

Hurriedly, you pushed yourself up off her chest and tugged the blankets off the two of you before sitting down on her lap. You took note of the way her hands had never left your waist, holding onto you as if she were drowning and you were the last life ring thrown out.

It wasn’t anything you and Clarisse hadn’t dealt with before. The nightmares had been a part of your lives as far back as you could remember, it just came with the territory of being a demigod. But they never got any easier as time went on.

She watched silently with eyes brimming with unshed tears, pleading wordlessly with you to do something, anything to make it all go away.

“Let’s switch, yeah? You can lay on me and completely cover me if you want, love,” you offered up, a melancholy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Wordlessly, she nodded and you slipped off her lap, laying back where she had just been moments ago.

Gently patting your chest, you motioned for her to rest her head on it, knowing that the rest of her body would soon follow, completely engulfing your form with hers. After she had positioned herself, her arms snaked around your waist again as she simply held you for a few moments, her face pressed into your chest as tears slowly soaked into your shirt.

One hand reached out to gently run along the length of her back, the motion meant to soothe. A few beats passed in silence before you spoke in a hushed whisper, the bedroom devoid of sound beyond the two of you breathing in tandem with each other.

“You hear that, love? That’s my heart,” you murmured softly, craning your neck to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “It’s beating, beating for you. Η καρδιά μου είναι η καρδιά σου.”

She didn’t respond beyond releasing another shaky sob into your chest and tightening her grip around your body, but you didn’t mind. You didn’t need her to talk just yet.

“You’re also η καρδιά μου, you know that, right? My heart, my wife, my love, my everything. And I’m yours. Entirely yours, and I”m not going anywhere.” You craned your neck again to press another kiss against the crown of her head, hand never stopping its path of running gently along the length of her back.

“I would go down to the depths of Tartarus for you. I would challenge Hades himself to a fight if it meant I had even a glimmer of a chance in getting you back.”

Never once did you try to rush her into talking or shushing her tears. You knew her better than you knew yourself, and giving her time to let everything out was the best thing you could do for her at the moment.

You were her safe space, the one woman that she could let her walls down around. She wasn’t Ares’ star daughter in your arms, she was just Clarisse. No expectations dangling over her head, just open arms and understanding.

After another few quiet moments, she finally spoke up in between half-choked sobs, whispering so quietly that her voice was nearly inaudible, “Silena… Manhattan… should have been able to save her,” before letting her face fall back down onto your chest, releasing another pained cry.

“She’s gone- a-and everyone else too- why me?”

Her question left you speechless, mouth partly opened in an attempt to come up with a reassuring response, but nothing seemed to come to mind immediately. It was rare for this to happen, as you normally had just the right words at the top of your tongue, weaving them as Arachne once wove tapestries on her loom.

“They’re all gone and- and- ”

“Shh, love…” you cut her off, gently pulling her head up to look her in the eyes, your other hand leaving her back to wipe the tears that were still streaming down her cheeks with the pad of your thumb. “Please, don’t go back into that self-sacrificial spiral. Talk to me, tell me what the dream was about?”

She only shook her head in response, unwilling to divulge details of the memory that had shattered your night of otherwise perfect proportions.

Deflating back on top of you, she whispered, “They’re all gone, and we’re one of the only ones remaining. It was like every time another one of them died, that small part of myself that I gave to them died as well.”

Her arms that were wrapped around your waist tightened for a moment before going limp along with the rest of her body as she lay atop you, her head pressed against your chest.

“Love…” you began softly as one of your hands found its way to her head and carded gently through her curls. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened. None of it was your fault. We didn’t ask to be born, to be thrown into this mess of a world and tossed around like pawns in the gods’ game of chess with our lives.”

“We didn’t ask for this life, and we were so young at the time. For fuck’s sake, we were only seventeen- we hadn’t even made out yet. We hadn’t graduated high school yet, there were so many things we couldn’t control.

“None of it was your fault, I promise you. You were so brave, and you did everything you could.” She stayed silent as you spoke, the only sounds coming from her were the soft, shaky breaths as she sniffled and burrowed her face further into your shirt.

“I can’t explain to you why so many things had to happen, that’s up to the Fates. I can’t give you the pieces of yourself back that you lost when we kept losing everyone,” you murmured whilst your hands kept on with their idle motions.

It shattered your heart to give her such an incomplete answer when you knew it was tearing her apart inside to live with it all, but there was nothing you could do beyond offer solace and comfort. “And for that, I am so, so sorry. But the one thing I can do is keep the piece you’ve granted me to keep, safe and sound.”

She only nodded in response, not trusting herself to speak in fear of her own vulnerability. Her tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn’t care. All that was important was that Clarisse was here, in your arms, and slowly calming down.

Clarisse knew just as well as you did that everyone had done the best they could with the circumstances given, and that the loss affected you just as deeply. But she didn’t dig into that, it would be a can of worms to open for another time, another sleepless night where your own troubles caught up with you after running from them for so long.

And so, the rest of the night stretched on into early morning, the two of you half-awake, seeking silent solace in each other until sunlight crept into the bedroom through the cracks of the curtains the next day.

The two of you might have been running from your trauma like runners to a marathon, but at least you were running hand-in-hand with matching strides.

[aheathen-conceivably]

From the moment Jo and Antoine arrived back home it was clear that something was different. Antoine had grown quiet, contemplative even, while Jo’s newfound confidence was even more pronounced than it had been these last few weeks. She proceeded to the cabin and then the farmhouse, calling out for Gio and Zelda before walking away without an explanation to either. As she did so, Antoine remained outside, throwing branches into the bonfire and staring at them as they went up into flames.

That was the way Zelda found him - staring forward and unmoving even as she looked to him for acknowledgment. Her eyes roamed upward from him to Gio, who was on the opposite porch looking just as confused as she felt. A sort of sympathy passed between them alongside the knowledge that something had fundamentally shifted while they had sat alone in their houses, unincluded and unaware. Jo reached Antoine first, patting him familiarly on the shoulder as though to awaken them all from a dream.

She had a plan. That much was clear from the start. That, and the fact that the reactions she was eliciting would do nothing to change it. So she told them every detail of Hosa Grove’s offer without stopping to let anyone speak, until she had finished reciting each and every date, number, and location he had given her. But as soon as she did, Gio was the first to answer. “Jo, I-I don’t know about this…”

She interrupted him before he could go any further, “You got us into this mess, Gio. If this is what it takes to get us out of it then it’s what I’m going to do.” He dropped his eyes to the sand and went quiet, which was precisely her intention. “Now it's not the full loan amount, but it should be enough to get them off our backs for a while. I can’t imagine there’s a line of people waiting out the bank. Still, it's only enough with me and Antoine’s money combined, and I’m not putting any in unless I get part ownership in return.”

Gio turned toward her incredulously, his obedience momentarily forgotten. “You can’t be fucking serious. Why the hell would you want any of this farm? You hate it and you know my share is as good as yours…”

Her eyes set and the look on her face told them all that the conversation was over before she even said a word. She met Gio’s gaze straight on and lowered her voice into a cold, measured tone. “You offered Antoine half. It’s no different. He can’t pay the full share, but if we split it, then he and I each get a fourth of the ownership.” She paused briefly, letting the gravity of the choice sit on them all for a moment, “Otherwise we lose the house.”

The very fire seemed to cackle at him, punctuating her words and feeding into his guilt-ridden idea that this was simply retribution, some sort of divine justice that placed him neatly beneath the heels of her red shoes after he had tried to tuck them away at the back of their closet. “Fine,” he finally relinquished, the uneven tone of the word signifying that it was anything but, “The farm will go half into Duplanchier ownership, split evenly between the two of you.”

Jo finally turned her full attention to Antoine, leaving Gio’s defeated face happily in her periphery. “Now, Antoine, what about you? All of this is moot if you don’t agree.”

He knew that the question was rhetorical. Jo had already made an agreement with Hosa, and so he had very little choice in the matter. The deal was nothing without him, and it was the only thing standing between them, bankruptcy, and the fate of the Okies. Even knowing that, he didn’t want to do it. He wanted to stay there on the ranch during the day and wake up next to Zelda every morning. To go outside and see his daughter before she left for school, only to still be there when she returned. He wanted to be home.

But home would cease to exist if he didn’t leave it. His daughter’s dollhouse, his wife’s books, Gio’s fields, Jo’s vanity - their very lives fell on his shoulders and his unwillingness to say yes. Still, he knew he would never make the choice to leave if she didn’t as well, no matter what it cost them. He looked at her profile, which was staring wordlessly into the fire like his had been moments before. 

When Zelda looked back at him she misinterpreted the hesitation in his eyes as worry for her, so she did her best to put on a brave face and looked back at Josephine, “I meant what I promised you all those years ago. Both of you. When the time came for him, I’ll do whatever you need of me.”

With her words, the deal was sealed, and Antoine looked back at his sister with a begrudging nod. He and Jo were going on the road.

[suuuupernovaaa]

kxuke

kxuke [ˈk’u.kɛ] adj. safe

Anonymous Request: What about Avatar reader x Neteyam with the "I won't say I'm in love" trope. The reader was part of Quaritch's team, but she got captured by the Sullys. She was under Neteyam's supervision, and they both fell in love slowly. However, they don't want to admit their feelings. Reader ends up betraying Quaritch's and fighting alongside the Sullys.

This would probably do better as a multi-chaptered story, so you may see it expanded as such in the future.

5.3k words

For two months, they've carried me from place to place, kept me in the dark, barely spoken to me. When I wake up, I'm back on base, but I have no information to give my team.

I can't see outside. I can't hear anything but what sounds like leaves blowing in the wind and birds chirping, even though I know it's not what I'd think of as birds.

Every morning, it's the same thing. The oldest Sully brings me something to eat, asks me if I have anything to tell him, and I say no. I ask if he has anything to tell me, and he says no.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

I'm tired, I'm sore, and I smell terrible. I'm under 24/7 surveillance by one of the Sullys, and I'm pretty sure that soon, they're going to give up and kill me. After all, I'm the enemy, part of Quartich's elite squad, and there's nothing I have to offer them.

I know what they know: Quartich is hunting the Sullys, and he won't stop until he kills them all, even the children.

The solitude is wearing me down, and my team is growing tired of my uselessness. I don't know why they keep putting me back under every morning - but they do, hoping I'll have something useful for them. I never do.

It's another morning - can't say whether it's sunny, or cloudy, or rainy - and Neteyam arrives as he always does, but he's a little early, and I'm ashamed that he finds me crying.

I begged my team not to put me back here, not to let me spend another day in dark isolation, but they don't want the avatar - a hefty investment - to go to waste. If she doesn't wake up, the Sullys will definitely kill her.

Neteyam clears his throat, and sets the usual meal of fruit and bread in front of me.

"Thanks," I say.

He nods. He doesn't ask if I have anything to tell him, so I don't either. Then, he leaves. Wonderful. The only social interaction I ever get, and it's gone.

I spend the day as I always do - pacing, doing jumping jacks, stretches, and staring at the dark ceiling, wondering who's standing just outside, keeping watch.

As the sun begins to go down, I feel relief. Soon, I can close my eyes, fall asleep, and return to freedom. Though, it's starting to feel less like freedom.

I took this job because I didn't have anything else in my life, and I've always been a good soldier - but it's not like I really believe in Quartich. Sometimes, I've wondered if what we're doing here is even right.

Is the human race so important that we need to displace these people to continue? What good have we done, that we deserve that?

Unexpectedly, the flap to the tent, or pod, I'm in, opens up, and Neteyam steps through.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, standing up.

He holds a thick cloth out to me. "Over your eyes," he says.

My heart rate quickens. This is it. They're finally going to kill my avatar. I've heard it's unpleasant, dying in your avatar, and it isn't like you get to go back to your human body after. It's the end for both of you.

I have to admit, I'm also a little relieved as I take the cloth from him. The last two months have been exhausting, and psychologically damaging, and made me question every single choice I've made in my life.

I can't keep doing this, and I can't escape... so maybe death is the only way out.

After I tie the cloth securely over my eyes, Neteyam checks thoroughly.

"I can't see," I say, as if he would trust me.

He grabs my arm, and pulls. "Come."

This is it.

--

My feet touch sand, and then water, and I want to scream with joy. It's dark out, not that I could see anything anyway, and quiet. I don't hear anyone else around us.

"Water," I whisper. Neteyam keeps pulling me. Is he going to drown me in it? Could he maybe just let me... clean up a little, before he kills me? I don't want to die this dirty.

Neteyam grabs my hand, and places something in it. A small, wet sack.

"To clean," he says, and I hear a pistol cock. "Don't go far, and don't make noise."

Holy shit, he is going to let me clean up. Sure, he's going to hold a gun and watch me wash my naked body, but I'll take it. Without any hesitation or shame, I pull off the dirty tank top and shorts I've been wearing, and go deeper into the water. I scrub every inch of myself, even under the mask, and scrub my hair until my scalp burns. This is definitely an ocean, the salty water burns my eyes and my dry lips, but I don't care at all. It still feels so amazing.

"Oh, my god," I moan when I come up for air. "Thank you."

Neteyam says nothing, just grunts, and grabs my arm. "Come, we must go back."

I'm definitely naked, but Neteyam pulls me away anyway and honestly, the thought of putting those disgusting clothes back on makes me want to die, so I leave them in the ocean. I would rather be naked and clean.

Neteyam takes me back to my prison, and pulls the cloth from my eyes.

We stare at each other for a long moment. "Why?" I ask.

He shrugs, turns, and leaves. I see laying on the floor, some clothes - if you can call them that. The top is essentially a tube top, easy enough to put on, but the bottoms take me a little while longer to figure out, especially with the tail. But they're clean, and so am I, and I cry again.

--

That isn't the last kindness that Neteyam does for me. Late at night, when everyone else is asleep, he often returns, bringing me new clothes, food, even letting me wash once in a while.

After a couple weeks of this, I work up the courage to ask him why.

"You haven't told them where we are, or they would have come. And they keep sending you back. You must be... lonely."

I bite my lip. "I can't tell them. I don't know. They keep sending me back because, because I don't know, and they say, if I don't wake up here, you'll kill... her." I gesture to my avatar body, who is me, but not me. "Why haven't you killed me?"

"Mom and dad can't agree," Neteyam shrugs. "What's your name?"

It takes me aback that I've never told him that, and that he's never asked before. "Y/N," I reply.

"Why do you do what you... do? Why follow him?"

I look down. "Earth is bad, Neteyam. You have parents who care about you, right?"

He nods.

I shrug. "I never had that. I never had anyone. I just had the marines. And I was good at it, so they sent me here. I just... didn't have anywhere else to go."

Without another word, Neteyam leaves again.

I haven't told my team about any of this. I don't think I'm going to.

--

Neteyam keeps asking me questions, every day, about my home on earth, what happened to my family, what being a marine is like... and I ask him questions, too, about growing up on Pandora, about his family, but I'm careful not to ask anything about where we are. All I know is, we're by the ocean. That wouldn't be very helpful information, anyway.

I look forward to seeing Neteyam every day, more than I've ever looked forward to anything in my life. Just sitting and talking with him brings me more happiness than anything else I can remember, and it's equal parts upsetting and confusing.

I'm not sure where I stand, or where we go from here. I'm just a Sky Person, and an evil one... I couldn't possibly be someone Neteyam would want to be friends with, and I definitely couldn't earn the trust of his family, so what will become of me?

Will they still kill me?

Eventually, Neteyam isn't alone when he comes one afternoon. I expected this eventually, but I didn't expect it would be Neytiri, his mother.

It's our first time coming face to face, and in the dim light of my prison, she's terrifying - her wide, glowing eyes, staring down at me; she looks like an angel of death, beautiful and terrifying.

I want to shrink, and avoid eye contact, but my training won't allow it. I stand, shoulders back, returning her gaze.

"Almost four months, we've kept you alive," she says, standing tall and strong before me. "And now I know my idiot son has let you out. You could have told them where we are. Why haven't you?"

"I wear a blindfold," I reply, and glance over her shoulder at Neteyam. The air is tense, and he stares at his mother nervously.

"Bah, I'm not stupid. Tell me why you haven't told them."

She's right. What I've felt and heard outside these walls, it could give my team vital information - but I haven't even let them know I've set foot outside.

I glance at Neteyam again, and this time, she follows my gaze.

"It's my son. You care for him?" She wrinkles her nose, disgusted at the thought.

"No, I - I just... don't want to help them, I guess."

She looks me, head to toe, one more time, and then they both leave.

--

Something has to change. I feel I've lost control of my life, and I want just a little bit back.That evening, when I wake up on base, I give a disappointing report to my team, and then make my plans to leave.

There are countless outposts on Pandora where I could access a link remotely - a few that base can't track, because they're so remote that they had to be fully self-sufficient. All I need to do is pack a bag, and I can be on my way, but it will have to be on foot. Human foot.

Any vehicle that I can steal, they can track. And the forest is easy to navigate in my avatar body, but my human body is small and slow - not to mention, I'll be a target for every predator out there.

Still, I'd rather die in this human form than continue on the way I have. So, I pack my bag, and head out. No one really cares what I do at night anyway, as long as I link back up in the morning for another useless day of gathering zero intel.

--

It takes two days, which is much longer than I thought it would, and I just barely scrape through the jungle before finding one of the scientist's outposts.

There is a chance they'll find me here, but they'll have to search a long time to do it - and the team of avatars would have to fly back, and abandon their physical search for the Sullys, to do it. It doesn't seem like they'd make me a priority.

It's mid-morning when I arrive, dirty and hungry, and as much as I want to link to my avatar - who hopefully hasn't been sunk to the bottom of the ocean yet - I need to clean up, and eat.

As soon as I'm done, I put myself under, and pray it works.

It's moments before I wake up, and I'm disoriented when I do. I usually wake up in the dark, but this time, it's blindingly bright out. I'm not lying down in my lonely hut, instead, I'm speeding through the air, the wind whipping at my back, and Neteyam at my front.

My eyes take a long time to adjust, and my lungs take even longer to get in a good breath of air. I'm on Neteyam's Ikran, tied to him, face to face.

"What the hell!" I scream, and without thinking, wrap my arms around his waist. I'm not a pilot, so not really one for flying. In fact, heights really aren't my thing at all. I cling to him, taking in the scenery around me through wide, terrified eyes.

We're above the ocean, with nothing in sight as far as I can see, which only adds to my fear.

"You're alive," Neteyam responds, having to shout for me to hear him. "I wasn't sure if they'd killed you or not."

"I'll explain when we land," I yell in response, and he nods.

It's very strange, being this close to Neteyam. He's grabbed my arm, even pulled me along by my hand before, but now, I'm straddling him, sitting in his lap, a tight rope around my torso, holding me to him - well, it's purpose was obviously to hold my limp avatar to him, but I'm glad to have the security, nonetheless.

He stares ahead, focused on where we're going, and it allows me a little bit of time to think. Not about our situation, or the plan either of us has... but about him.

I can't deny the joy I feel at being here with Neteyam, and I'm not sure if I'm just glad to have woken up anywhere but my dark, lonesome hut, or if it's something more.

Abandoning my life back on Earth to come to Pandora pretty much guaranteed I would never enjoy a romantic relationship again. I'd never been interested in marines, ironically enough. And scientists certainly weren't interested in me. And that was kind of... it, here.

Except, Neteyam. A man my age. A man who has been taking care of the enemy, showing me mercy, visiting me every day, asking me questions about myself and listening carefully to the responses.

It's such a complex, confusing situation, and there was no way to know if it was just being the baseline of Na'vi decency, or if it was something more for him.

It's a long ride, and I have hours to think about all of it, and how hungry I am.

When we finally land, Neteyam hands me a bag full of dried fruits and meat. I take it gratefully, and ask him what's going on.

"When you didn't wake up, there was a lot of debate about what to do with your body. My mother wanted to throw you to the ocean, my father was starting to agree with her and I... didn't think it was right. So I offered to move you, to wait and see if you woke up, and to leave you far from where my family is if you didn't."

I chew on the tough, dried meat. "Oh. Why?"

Neteyam looks away, removing his poncho, and tucking it into his bag. "I do not want you to die."

I nod. "Oh."

"You tell me this - what do you stand for?"

That's not something I've ever been asked. The answer would have been easy four months ago. I was a marine, I had an assignment, and I was serving my country.

But now I know, I never believed in that. It was just something to make me finally feel like I belonged, but it wasn't something I truly wanted to belong to.

"Neteyam, I really don't know. I don't want to help the Sky People, and I won't do anything to harm your family, but... it leaves me, sort of in-between. Do you understand?"

He nods.

"And I, well, I do care about you. You don't have any reason to be this nice to me, to treat me this good. Why do you do that?"

He furrows his brow, looking as confused as I feel.

"I don't know," he replies.

I don't, either.

--

We set up a camp nearby, Neteyam hangs a hammock in a tree while I stand by uselessly, trying to watch and learn. He hunts after that, and insists I join, but as quiet as I try to be, I'm still too loud.

So, Neteyam finds a new purpose - teach me to hunt. And to fish. And to be like his people.

It's fucking hard. I always thought I was strong, fast and capable, but I'm nothing compared to Neteyam. I lag behind, I'm clumsy and slow, and it takes me forever to learn simple concepts.

Neteyam is endlessly patient with me, in a way I don't deserve, and as the days drag on, we both smile a lot more. We even find ourselves laughing, on occasion.

Neteyam likes to tease me about my lack of coordination, but it's easy to see that he likes teaching me, otherwise he wouldn't take such care to explain things the way he does.

These weeks in the jungle with him, they're the best of my life.

When I wake up in my human body at night, I can't deny how disappointed I am. It's messing with my head, how the tall, blue version of myself is starting to feel like the real me, and this small human feels like the imposter.

Eventually, I'm able to open up to Neteyam about this.

"My father, he asked Eywa to... to transfer him, into his avatar. He had the whole clan to help him, though."

"Why did she do it?"

"He was meant to be one of The People."

I consider that for a while.

--

It's been a couple weeks, just Neteyam and myself here, and I can't deny how I'm feeling any longer.

It makes no sense, for me to be in love with him, but I undeniably am. It's really stupid actually, to fall in love with someone under my circumstances, but I've always thought love was kind of stupid anyway.

So I make a request.

"Do you think... Eywa would let me stay, in this body?"

"Do you want to be one of The People?"

I bite my lip and think. "I want to belong to something bigger than myself, and I want it to be something... selfless. Something that doesn't demand I be something I'm not. And I want, to stay with you."

The corners of his mouth pull up into a smile. "I think she would let you. I think it's dangerous to try, without the clan, but if you want to..." I see the wheels in his head spinning. "We will need your human body, and we will need the tree of souls. At night."

We form a plan.

--

Neteyam carries my avatar in his arms, and I trail behind, very slowly, in my human body. It took us three days to travel back to the outpost where I was staying, and two more days to travel, the three of us, to the tree of souls.

We had to wait then, just outside, until it was deserted.

"You need to be sure," Neteyam says, towering over me as we wait in the wings. "If you are not sure, it will not work." He reaches out and puts a giant hand on my small shoulder. I wonder what he thinks of my dark skin, my curly hair, my frame and build... but I guess it won't matter much longer.

"I'm sure. And listen, I might die down there, right?"

He takes in a deep breath. "Maybe."

I nod. "Great. Well, listen, I might as well just say it then. I'm mostly doing this because Earth sucks, humans suck, and I don't want any part of it anymore. But I'm also doing it because, I think, I might be in love with you a little bit. So, I don't want to die without having said it. And I don't want you to say anything back. You can tell me how you feel, one way or another, if I wake up. Otherwise, say it over my grave."

I can tell Neteyam is trying not to roll his eyes - something he does often in my presence - so he just nods, and squeezes my shoulder.

When the coast is clear, we approach together, and Neteyam walks me through it. I watch him lay down my avatar body, and I lay similarly to her, our heads near each other.

I should be nervous, but I mostly feel calm.

Didn't I want to die just a month or two ago? And now here I am, with a second chance at life.

Neteyam begins to pray over me, and it sounds a little clumsy, but he's got the spirit. I close my eyes, and feel featherlight touches all over my body... and I drift off.

--

She closes her eyes, and Neteyam's heart squeezes in his chest.

He knows this is stupid. He's no Tsahik, and they need the full power of the clan to make this transfer... but that's not possible, and he doesn't see any other way to keep Y/N for himself.

He knows it's selfish, but he also knows that his mother allowed him to fly off with this woman, and that has to mean something.

Eywa will see how strong she is, how determined she is, and how much she deserves a true home. Every time Neteyam thinks about the stories she told him of her childhood, the neglect and the abuse, he has to fight back equal parts rage and incredible sadness.

He thinks of those months, locked in her mauri pod, barely any sunlight or interaction, and wonders how she survived - but now he knows, she survived worse than that at the hands of people who were meant to love and protect her.

Y/N seemed so strong at first, and she is, but he can truly See her now. Part of her is still that child, seeking love and confidence in another person, and he wants nothing more than to give it to her - his family's opinion on it be damned.

He prays hard, begging Eywa to give Y/N this one good thing in her life, finally, and waits for her to open her eyes.

--

It feels as if I drift off into a dream, into a very deep sleep, and when I open my eyes, I feel well-rested - I can't remember the last time I felt well-rested.

It isn't until I see Neteyam hovering over me that I realize what's happened. I tear my eyes from his to look down at myself - and see blue.

It fucking worked. It shouldn't have! We had everything against us - except Eywa, who granted our prayers.

Neteyam lifts me up slowly by my shoulders. It doesn't feel like when I link with this body from the lab; something about this feels different. I never felt fully settled in this body until now.

I turned to look at her - myself - and wonder if I should mourn. I think of all the mistreatment I accepted in that body, all the times I let myself be hurt and abused, and swear to myself that I will not let that happen in this new life I've been given.

"We need to bury her," I say.

Neteyam nods, and wordlessly lifts her up into his arms. I watch as he leans down, removing her mask, and placing a kiss on each of her dimpled cheeks.

"She is beautiful," he says, and my heart wells up into my throat, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

She is beautiful, and she deserves to rest now. It doesn't take long to find her a quiet resting place, and I shed a few tears for her as we cover her up.

"Goodbye," I whisper, wiping the dirt from my hands, and Neteyam joins me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Eywa has given you a new life. What will you do with it?"

I set my jaw and furrow my brow. "I will fight with you, and your family."

--

We make a long, hard journey back across the sea to Neteyam's family and the Metkayina. For the first time, with my own eyes, I see the place I was held captive.

It's beautiful, with white sand beaches and blue green water. It's hard to imagine how depressing and desolate this place seemed to me not that long ago.

We are accosted on the beach as soon as we arrive, and through the large gathering crowd, Neteyam's parents and siblings rush to us.

"What is she doing here?" Neytiri hisses, grabbing her son's arm. He pulls back from her, and reaches out for my hand, pulling me to his side as dozens of pairs of eyes watch.

"There is much to discuss. Y/N is not a threat to us. You must listen to me."

Neytiri hisses at me, and I stand silent and expressionless. Jake looks on, his expression somewhere between anger and confusion. He turns to another man, tall and imposing, covered in tattoos - it's very easy to tell he's in charge.

"We'll handle this," he tells the man, who nods, and Neteyam and I are pulled through the crowd and off the beach, to a set of mauri pods. I've never seen them before, but Neteyam described them to me while we were away. Without the door covered, they're light, airy, and beautiful.

We enter one of the largest ones, and Neteyam's parents turn to us. "Explain."

Neteyam takes a deep breath and does his best to tell them everything, starting with all I learned in the month we were away together, the way I dedicated myself to learning our ways - just like Jake did, when he first met Neytiri.

The comparison is clever, I have to give him that.

I don't know how I feel about what he says next, as he describes my life on earth to his parents. Neteyam is the only person I've ever shared that with, and it hurts to hear him discuss it so freely, but I understand why he's doing it. If they're going to spare my life, they might need to feel a little sympathy.

"Y/N deserves to be one of The People. She could have given us away and instead, she chose to abandon her people, and risk her life in asking Eywa to allow her to stay in this form. And Eywa has granted that request. I buried her human body myself."

For the first time, neither of Neteyam's parents have anything to say. Everyone stares at each other for a long, tense moment.

"I would never do anything to hurt your family," I say finally, stepping out from behind Neteyam. "I can't do anything but promise you that, on my life." I raise my hand to my chest, pressing it to my heart.

"You have passed through the eye, and return?" Neytiri asks.

Neteyam and I both nod.

"You swear this is true, son?" Jake asks solemnly. "You did this yourself? Just the two of you?"

"Impossible," Neytiri adds.

I shrug.

"Impossible, but we did it. Eywa willed it Herself. Y/N deserves to be one of The People."

"Lo'ak," Jake calls, and from just outside the mauri, Neteyam's brother enters. It's the first time I've laid eyes on him, though Neteyam has spoken of him often. Neteyam is all Neytiri, but Lo'ak is practically a carbon copy of his father.

"Take Y/N outside, we need to talk," Jake says, and I look to Neteyam with wide eyes.

He reaches out, taking my face into his hand, running his thumb over my cheek. "It'll be okay," he says, and I nod.

As I leave, I can't help but think, for the thousandth time, that I confessed my love for him, and he hasn't said a word about it since.

--

Lo'ak is clearly unsure what to do with me as we leave, so I recommend sitting on the beach. I haven't enjoyed the beach without a blindfold, and it seems like a relaxing thing to do.

Lo'ak agrees, and leads me through a mess of mauri pods down to the water. I plop myself down, digging my toes into the wet sand, and sigh.

"It's nice to meet you, Lo'ak," I say, trying not to sound too formal, as he sits beside me.

"You too. I knew my brother was sneaking you out, but he never let me join."

It's such a younger brother thing to say, and I have to smile. "He was really nice to me, and he didn't have to be."

"We were all surprised, when we found out. Neteyam always does whatever mom and dad say. He's like, the perfect son."

My smile grows wider. "I think he probably still is."

Lo'ak rolls his eyes, and then I see how alike he and his older brother look.

"Probably. If I'd done this, I'd be skinned alive right now."

For the first time that day, I allow myself to truly laugh.

--

Neteyam joins us on the beach what feels like hours later, and Lo'ak beasts a hasty retreat after clapping his brother on the back.

I grasp the hand that Neteyam extends to me, and stand to look at him, brushing the sand off my thighs.

"Well?" I demand.

"That was rough. They're pretty mad about what we did but, they admitted they didn't really have much of a reason to be, besides me risking myself by going back to the Tree of Souls. They can't argue with Eywa, really. She wouldn't have done this for us if it didn't benefit the balance of life. You're meant to be one of us. My mom isn't happy about it, and my dad doesn't really get it but... you're not going to get any trouble from them. It doesn't mean they like you, especially my mom, but, she'll come around eventually."

I had been holding tension in every single muscle in my body, and at this news, everything relaxes all at once.

It feels as if a war is over. I get to stay in this body, and I get to stay with Neteyam. A wave of euphoria washes over me, and I close my eyes tightly, trying to keep the tears away.

"That's good news," I whisper.

"They especially couldn't argue when I, um, told them that I'm in love with you, and intend to make you my mate."

Mate.

That means wife, to him. And they don't have divorce here on Pandora.

My eyes open in a flash. "You do?"

"If you'll have me," he says, with a shrug and a very small smile. He seems more nervous now than he did earlier, facing his warrior-goddess mother.

In my entire life, I have never known stability. I have never been truly loved, cared for, or had anyone that I could trust. No one has ever tried to put in the effort to gain my trust, and certainly not my love.

Neteyam and I met as guard and prisoner. I was a threat to his family, and to his entire way of life, and still he went out of his way to take care of me. He risked everything for me.

No one has ever shown me that level of commitment - except the marine corps, who wanted my life in return.

Neteyam wants nothing in return. Neteyam loves me, and I know he will take care of me every day for the rest of our lives.

So the commitment isn't scary. It's welcome. It's a relief. It's a warm hug after coming in from the cold. It's everything I have ever needed and didn't think I'd ever be fortunate enough to receive.

The tears are falling freely now, and Neteyam reaches up to try and wipe them away, but they won't stop.

"I love you, Neteyam Sully. I never want to be away from you, not a single day, for the rest of my life." I can barely get the words out through sobs.

He reaches out, pulling me into his arms, hugging me so tightly it almost hurts.

"I will take care of you," he whispers in my ear, "the way you deserve. I promise you this."

With no doubts, I believe him. I will do whatever it takes to keep my mate safe, and I know he will too.

Tag List: @nhloversblog @itsemy01 @eringaitskill

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Clan of Three - Chapter 2

Chapter Two: The Sin

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

Word Count: 4.3K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: Fighting, betrayal, angst, violence/injuries, Mando being a father

------

A Mandalorian, an infant creature, and a teenage girl from Tatooine. No one had expected the three to meet and be the bounties the hunter was delivering to. The ship owned by the bounty hunter exits hyperspace over Nevarro. He had to admit whatever the kid did had improved the speed of being in hyperspace, the travel being cut down. The sound of a call from the hologram is Greef, “Mando. I've received your transmission. Wonderful news. Upon your return, deliver the quarry directly to the client. I have no idea if he wants to eat it or hang it on his wall, but he's very antsy. Safe passage! You know where to find me.” The transmission ends leaving the Mandalorian in silence, he turns to see you still asleep before he hears a cooing noise. Looking back to see the small child playing with a ball from one of the levers.

Mando reaches over grabbing it as it makes a sound of sadness, “It’s not a toy.” He places the ball back onto the level the child staring at it as he takes the ship down to the planet below.

The shaking of the ship wakes you from a dreamless sleep you rub the sleep off your face seeing Mando flipping switches and shutting off the ship, “Where are we?” You mumble letting out a yawn and stretching your arms out. He stands up heading towards the ladder,

“We’re on Nevarro.” The name of the planet was one you weren’t familiar with, you hardly knew the planets in your systems. You follow down below the child’s carrier floating behind you as you enter the cargo hold. Mando presses a button along the wall and the ramp of the ship goes down. The black sands are the first thing you notice the smell of fire deep in the air but no one seemed bothered by it. You follow behind Mando trailing slightly taking in everything, you felt like a child born into the world. Nothing looked familiar to you and the people around you none you’d ever seen.

“So what are we doing here? Getting more supplies before we travel to Tatooine?” You ask running up beside him as he stays silent the people around him moving out of the way just by his presence. He turns down an alley which you have to stop and follow with how quickly he turned and disappeared down it, but you could see the wisp of his cape. Finding him standing outside a building the child in his carrier beside him. “So is this your place or somewhere we’re staying?” You say looking around the alleyway seemed like no one came around here which was weird.

A small hole opens beside the door and a droid pokes through, Mando holds up a disc and a red light from its eye scans it. It makes a noise of confirmation retracting back. A few seconds passed confusing you why the doors didn’t just open when they open revealing two stormtroopers, their armor scuffed and dirty. You instantly take a step back your eyes widening seeing people apart of the empire. A hand stops you from moving farther back and you look up at Mando seeing he was the one to stop you.

“Mando what are you doing with…” Your voice trails off as it hits you and he could tell you noticed. You push off him trying to grab the child and run off when strong hands from one of the troopers grab you pushing you inside the building the other roughly yanks the cradle.

“Easy with that,” Mando says looking at the trooper handling the child glancing back and seeing the other slamming you against the wall pinning your hands behind your back as you struggle to break free.

“You take it easy.” The trooper replies before they lead them all further into the safe house. You enter a larger room where you see an older man seated at a table with another man dressed in an imperial uniform standing beside him. You slam your head back against the trooper's helmet it letting out a shout as you push off him your hands grabbing his blaster and pointing it at the traitor the sound of weapons cocking aimed at you.

“You lying bastard!” You shout at the Mandalorian and your anger boils more unable to tell the emotion hidden behind his helmet. Did he even feel guilty?! “Should’ve killed you when I had the chance!” You shout out as he doesn’t even pull out his weapon just looking at you. The troopers around you shout at you to put the blaster down. Electricity rushes through your body as you crumble to your knees the weapon falling from your hands. Two troopers rush for you one kicking away the blaster as they pull you two your feet your body crying out in pain and numbness.

“A feisty one she is.” The older man says looking over you making you cringe in disgust. You spit at his feet and one of the troopers kicks you to your knees.

“Don’t hurt her!” The younger man says holding his hand out, he comes over and you glare at him struggling in their grasp as he pulls out a device. It pricks your neck before shining a bright red. He nods before moving over to the child.

“You touch him and I’ll rip your arms off.” You hiss out fighting in the two troopers’ grasp as the man looks at you for a second before pricking the child a cry comes from it before the device glows red as well.

“They’re health…very healthy.” The man says and the other man nods.

“Your reputation was not unwarranted.” He says while Mando looks over the two of you.

“How many fobs did you give out?” He asks and the man laughs,

“These assets were of extreme importance to me. I had to ensure their delivery” He pulls out a container placing it on the table, “But to the winner…go the spoils.” He opens the container revealing several bars of beskar. You were sold off for metal. The older man waves his hand out, “Take these two, Dr. Pershing I’m sure you’re pleased.” The doctor nods pushing the carrier holding the child off into another room as the two troopers start pulling you out of the room though you fight.

“You lying bastard! You’re no Mandalorian! I swear you’re dead to me!” You spit venom with your word as your shouts are muffled behind the closed door before it fades. The Mandalorian looks away from the door trying to get those words out of his head.

“What are your plans for them?” He speaks out and the client looks at him surprised.

“How uncharacteristic of one of your reputation, You have taken both commission and payment. Is it not the Code of the Guild that these events are forgotten?” He asks the silent bounty hunter before closing up the container of beskar and pushing it towards him, “That beskar is enough to make a handsome replacement for your armor. Unfortunately, finding a Mandalorian in these trying times is more difficult than finding the steel.” Leaving the building with a case of beskar he can’t deny the tense feeling in his chest.

The Nevarro cantina is filled with music and drinking but mainly people drinking away their lost bounty when the person that stole their reward away entered. Silence fills as he slowly enters the glares and whispers directed toward him as he stands in front of Greef. “Ah, Mando! They all hate you Mando because you’re a legend.” He greets him as the bounty hunter looks around at the glares pointed at him.

“How many of them had tracking fobs?” He asks and Greef laughs taking a sip from his drink.

“All of them! All of them! But none of them closed the deal. Only you, Mando. Only you. And with it, the richest reward this parsec has ever seen. Please sit, my friend.” He cheers him waving him to sit but the hunter hesitates his hand resting on his blaster, the armor he wore freshly made beskar from the Mandalorians, “They're all weighing the Beskar in their minds, but not me. No. I, for one, I celebrate your success. Because it is my success as well. Hell! Even I am rich. Now, how can I show my gratitude to my most valuable partner?” Greef asks his most valued hunter as he sits down taking his hand off his blaster.

“I want my next job.” He says surprising Greef, “ Next job? Take some time off. Enjoy yourself. I'll take you to the Twi'lek healing baths.” He suggest but the bounty hunter was adamant.

“I want my next job.”

“Sure. Fine. You hunters like to keep busy, right?” Greef says pulling out the multiple pucks and looking over them, “Well, these are all far away.”

“The further, the better,” Mando says wanting to get off this planet already

“Well, take your pick. You've earned it,” He says as Mando looks over the details for each puck before grabbing one, “Ah. That's the best one of the lot. A nobleman's son skipped bail. Looks like you're headed to the ocean dunes of Karnac.”

“Any idea what they're gonna do with it?” Mando asks his question not involving the nobleman’s son.

“With what?” “The kids.”

Greef shrugs taking a sip from his drink, “I didn't ask. It's against the Guild Code.”

“They work for the Empire. What are they doing here?” Mando pushes and Greef looks at the bounty hunter.

“The Empire is gone, Mando. All that is left are mercenaries and warlords. But if it bothers you, just go back to the Core and report them to the New Republic.” Mando scoffs looking away

“That's a joke.” He stands up heading for the door

The guild member looks at the bounty hunter, “Mando, enjoy your rewards. Buy a camtono of spice. By the time you come out of hyperdrive, you will have forgotten all about it.”

The empty ship echos his movement and his thoughts as he straps into his seat preparing for takeoff reaching for a lever seeing the ball on it gone, he looks back seeing it resting on the seat. Grabbing it he screws it back to the lever. In hyperspace, it will all be forgotten.

‘You’re no Mandalorian.’

Your words ring in his head as he looks over to where you sat before looking forward his hands on the controls to take off. His hands move across the board the sound of the engine humming off as the ship settles and he stands heading off the ship back into the town.

You were brought into the room by the troopers and the doctor when they strapped you down onto the table. You struggle in your restraints trying to break free. Pershing comes over with a needle making you panic and fight more into your restraints. The snap of one restraint has his eyes widening and the two troopers come over holding you down as the needle presses into your arm and you watch as your blood comes out of your body filling into small vials. You felt weak after multiple vials were taken and the straps are taken off you. The two troopers grab you by the arms dragging you out as you fail to stand throwing you into an empty storage room. You barely catch yourself from smacking into the ground before the door closes behind you locking and shrouding you in darkness. Pushing yourself to your knees and sitting against the wall you take deep breaths trying to calm your rapidly beating heart.

What did the empire want with you? Had they figured it out and that’s why Mando went after you? The thought of the bounty hunter made anger flood through your veins. He betrayed you…he left you for dead with the empire...and the child. You quickly wipe the tears that flood your eyes. You had to stay strong..you needed to fight back. You had to get out of here..you and the child.

The darkness is calming nothing but the sound of your breathing is what you can hear. A rumble shakes the room the sound far off in the distance making you hold your breath to listen. It’s quiet before another rumble and then you hear the sound of blasters. You stand up hearing the sound of shouts and gunfire before it grows quiet again. The sound of footsteps grows close to the door and you press against the wall beside the door as the door opens and light floods the room. You see a single trooper enter the room their blaster ready and you strike. You kick the back of his knee sending him crashing against the ground his blaster sliding across the room. You rush towards it when a hand latches onto your leg tripping you and you hit the ground. A cry escapes your mouth feeling your ankle twist in the wrong direction. You’re flipped over as the trooper pins you down as you try to break free his hands wrap around your throat trying to knock you out. You grab his wrists trying to pry them off looking up the blaster was just within your reach. Your hand reaches out trying to grab the blaster your fingers just brushing it when the pressure on your neck grows tighter. You bring your hand back using both of them to try to get the man off of you. Glancing up the blaster was just a hair away, you reach forward your fingers scraping it making it spin on the floor moving further away before your hand returns to the other around your neck. You could feel your body growing weak the spots of black painting your vision. Your hand grasps out begging for the weapon. The weapon slides into your hand and you swing it out hitting him against the head with it. You scramble back as he looks at you lunging towards you. Your finger presses against the trigger hitting him point-blank in the chest dropping dead.

You gasp pushing yourself against the corner, “Hey what’s taking long we have to-” The sound of a new trooper enters the room, and you pull the trigger again hitting him in the leg he cries out in pain hitting the ground. You scramble to stand and when he tries to grab his blaster you fire again and he stills. Your hands shake holding the blaster. You’ve never killed someone before, sure animals when hunting but never a person before. This person had thoughts, emotions, and life, and you took it away. You felt sick. The sound of more blaster fire makes you stand straight. You had to get out of here. The place felt like a maze as you walk through the halls seeing the aftermath of whatever fight there was, dead stormtroopers lined the halls. Your ankle cries out in pain feeling fire fill it when you put too much pressure on it. You encounter a few but you quickly shot them before they realized it was you and take advantage of your injury. Whoever was attacking this place was on a mission. You had to find the child. You found the laboratory finding it empty with only two troopers there dead. The sound of gunfire sounds loud down one hallway and you felt a sense. The child.

Mando exits the storeroom holding the child only to run into a stormtrooper. He quickly exchanges gunfire letting the bullets bounce off the beskar, shooting the trooper down the second trooper getting burned by his flamethrower. His screams filled the hall as he burns before collapsing to the ground. Turning around to head down the hallway to be at the end of a blaster pointed right between the gaps of his helmet and chest plate. One pull of the trigger and he would be a dead man. What surprised him more was seeing the cold look on your face. Your neck was covered in quickly forming bruises in the shape of hands. He could tell you were keeping pressure off one foot an injury you must have sustained.

“Give me the child and I won’t paint your brains against the wall.” You hiss one hand holding the gun, finger on the trigger the other held out to take the child who coos happily seeing you.

“You don’t understand I came here-” He starts but you cut him off, “Don’t understand that you’re a kriffing traitor? Now give me the child, I won’t ask again.” You demand your finger twitching on the trigger.

“I made a mistake, I’m sorry…you have you believe me. I promise you’ll return to your home.” Mando promises and you look at him still uncertain as you look at the beskar helmet. Your hand twitches your gaze meeting the child in his arms who is looking at you and you sense it, the feeling of trust..to trust him. The sound of a blaster fills the air and Mando stiffens before looking behind him and seeing a stormtrooper with a blaster wound in his chest before he hits the ground. You lower your weapon looking at him.

“Come on let’s go.” You say and he nods leading you through the halls before you enter the same room you arrived in when you first came here. Seeing a doorway leading outside you both moves towards it.

“Freeze! Don’t move.” A group of troopers appears and you all pause in your place, “Hands up. Drop the blaster.” They call out and you sigh dropping the blaster holding your hands up while Mando only holds one hand up.

“Wait. What I’m holding is very valuable.” Mando says as the four troopers circle you cornering you.

“He has the assets, turn and face me.” One of the troopers behind you says as you both turn around, “Now slowly get on your knees,” They order as you both begin to kneel down when you see Mando’s hand move to his wrist. Suddenly bullets that whistle in the air shoot out from his wrist taking out all of the troopers. You look around shocked seeing them all down.

“Come we have to go.” He says helping you to your feet and you wince slightly accidentally putting pressure on your bad foot, “Can you walk?” You nod waving him off and grabbing the blaster you put down.

“Yeah let’s just get off this damn planet.” You say the three of you exiting the imperial compound. You all walk through the streets trying to keep unnoticed in the shadows, you’re glued to Mando’s side using his cape to hide most of the blaster in your hand. You turn down the street right outside the landing zone seeing multiple bounty hunters armed with weapons. A man steps forward looking at Mando and you and the child.

“Welcome back, Mando!” He greets the bounty hunter beside you, did they know each other, “Now put the package down and step away from the other one.” His cheerful voice grows cold quickly and you look at the bounty hunters surrounding you all.

“Step aside. I'm going to my ship.” Mando calls out and the man shakes his head,

“You put the bounty down and perhaps I'll let you pass.” The man speaks about the child and you can see their hands hovering over their own blaster ready for the fight that was going to be inevitable.

“The kids are coming with me,” Mando responds and the man shakes his head.

“If you truly care about the kids, then you'll let them stand by the speeder and we'll discuss terms.” He warns him and you could feel the tension coming off Mando, as he looks at the speeder with an R6 astromech droid ready for the command

“How do I know I can trust you?” Mando calls out and you could see his hand shifting toward his blaster.

“Because I'm your only hope.”

Mando looks down at the child and at you and your jaw drops slightly when he hands the child off to you. You grab it with your one free arm. This couldn’t be happening he wasn’t just giving up, “Mando…” His blaster comes into his hand with a flick of his wrist he shoots one of the bounty hunters, and you feel the ground disappear underneath you as Mando rushes jumping onto the speeder carrying luggage.

“Drive. Drive!” Mando shouts out and the droid drives off. You’re quickly put down hidden behind the crates as he exchanges fire with his fellow bounty members. The sound of the blaster hitting close to you makes you jump and you see the droid fizzling its head blown off. The vehicle comes to a screeching halt sending you sliding. You hiss feeling the pain in your foot grow more painful. The bounty hunters draw in firing at the Mandalorian as he pulls his rifle off his back and he hits two hunters incinerating them.

“That's one impressive weapon!” The man that knew Mando yells out from where he was hiding.

“Here's what I'll do. I'm gonna walk to my ship with the kids and you're gonna let it happen.” Mando shouts out hidden behind one of the crates quickly shooting down a bounty hunter that tries getting a surprise attack.

“No. How about this? We take the kids, and if you try to stop us, we kill you and we strip your body for parts.” The man shouts back and the fighting continues, looking down at the child in your arms you place it down grabbing the blaster before coming up and firing out at some of the bounty hunters. You hit one of the bounty hunters letting out a cheer when pain spreads across your arm. A scream rips from your throat as you drop your blaster falling back in the speeder grabbing your arm where the bullet grazed your skin, the flesh burned from the ray. Mando looks back at you seeing you hit firing back with more urgency.

“Don't hit the target!” The man calls out seeing you get hit. You hiss in pain the cool air brushing against your wound, the blood pouring down your arm. As the bounty hunters grow closer Mando holds out his arm flames pouring out as they scream in pain burning before it runs out. You look up fear and tears brimming your eyes, was it over? He looks at you and the child before reloading his weapon and preparing for his final stand.

As you prepare for the end a large barrage of blasts comes from the air, looking up you see people donning jetpacks shooting at the bounty hunters. Your eye widens seeing the familiar helmets on them. They were Mandalorians!

One of the Mandalorians hovers over you three firing down at the bounty hunters, “Get out of here! We'll hold them off!”

“You're going to have to relocate the covert,” Mando calls out knowing the punishment of involving the Mandalorians.

“This is the Way.” He responds and all the Mandalorians including yours repeat it back in unison, “This the Way.”

He nods as the male Mandalorian takes off fighting them as he looks down at you and the child. Your arm was still bleeding and the child just looked frightened. “Come on we have to go!” He jumps off the speeder grabs the child and you jump over the side almost falling to the ground if Mando didn’t grab you. You shake your head trying to keep the pain in.

“I can’t...my foot.” You say your voice trembling and he looks around before handing you the child again and scooping you up holding you in his arms. You hold the child close to your chest your other hand wrapped around his neck. Rushing through the fighting running into bounty hunters but they are put down by Mandalorians. Seeing the ship ahead he brings the ramp down bringing you on when you hear the cocking of a blaster. Mando turns you and the child still in his arms seeing Greef pointing a blaster at you all.

“Hold it, Mando. I didn't want it to come to this. But then you broke the Code.” He says shaking his head almost disappointed in the hunter. Mando feels cornered when a blaster bolt hits Greef right in the chest. Sending him staggering toward the edge of the ramp. He looks down seeing you holding his blaster before you push your hand out and Greef is sent flying off the ship ramp rolling on the ground. Mando looks at you surprised hidden by his mask before he carries the two of you onto the ship bringing you to the cockpit and quickly taking off. The sound of blasters hitting the ship being protected by the shields as the Mandalorians provide cover fire. Sitting in your chair you see out the window the Mandalorian that spoke to you all salute Mando before flying off.

“I gotta get one of those.” Mando huffs before leaving the atmosphere. The child resting in his lap the other seated on their chair, he looks down at the kid reaching for the ball on the lever. He reaches over unscrewing it handing it to the happy child. The vast space to go off to now an enemy of the guild…the thoughts of the things he’s seen both of these kids do in his head. The kid with the mudhorn and you with Greef. They needed to lay low before he could begin to think more of it.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Kiss Me or Kill Me

Requested Here!

Pairing: John Casey x fem!assassin!reader

Summary: You fell in love with Casey, but left him to go back to work. Two years later, he gets an assignment to take out an assassin nearing the Intersect. You're close again, and Casey must decide whether to do his job, or give you another chance.

Warnings: mentions of assassinations and injuries, r calls Casey "Case" a few times, angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: I got the title idea from U2's Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me. Also, there is a criminal lack of Casey gifs.

“The sun’s coming up, Case,” you whisper, trailing your finger over his jawline. “You’re missing it.”

“It’ll still be there later,” he grumbles.

He turns toward you and throws a muscular arm over your waist. You chuckle at his insistence to keep you close, but you love it just as much as he does. Since the moment you ran into one another on the beach two months ago, you were drawn in. He’s impossible to forget, and you fell in love with him in a moment. You’ve been living in paradise since.

But, unfortunately, you have a life and a job back in the real world. You push the unwelcome reminder from your mind and focus on the man beside you. Leaving him will hurt, will tear a piece of your heart out and toss it into the crystal-clear blue sea outside your window. So, focusing on the here and now is the only way you can keep living.

“I’ve moved around a lot, but I’ve never been somewhere as beautiful as this,” you admit. “Do you think I’ll ever get tired of the view?”

Casey shakes his head, and as you look into his eyes, you know he’s right. You won’t forget him or this relationship, just as he won’t forget you. Despite spending every waking moment together for the past weeks, neither of you has mentioned what you do for work. It’s best that way, you think, since you’ll have to return to work soon enough anyway. Sitting beside you, Casey thinks something similar.

“Take me to the beach, Case?” you ask.

You punctuate your request with a slow kiss, and you can practically feel his ‘no’ weakening beneath you. He groans when you pull back but instructs you to get ready regardless.

“I love you,” you say as you stand.

“I love you,” he replies.

You feel his eyes on you as you walk away, and you wonder if they’ll feel different when you walk away forever.

“Ma’am? This was dropped off for you,” the waiter says as he hands you an unmarked envelope.

Three months. Your break between jobs ends abruptly as you sit across from Casey, the man you love. Ignoring your shaking hands, you lay the envelope aside and force a smile onto your face.

“Bad news?” Casey guesses.

“It’s, uh, a work thing,” you explain, unwilling and unable to lie to him.

“Where’s work?”

“Depends. I travel and go to different places based on my assignments. I’ll look at it later.”

“So, you’re leaving.”

You look around, willing yourself not to get emotional in front of so many people. The restaurant is open on the beach, but you feel trapped.

“I am,” you whisper. “Can we talk about it later, though?”

“I don’t see a point,” Casey grumbles as he stands.

He leaves money on the table to cover the bill, and you watch as he leaves. When he reaches the sand, you snatch the envelope up and run after him. You press your hand against his back as you attempt to cut him off and make him stop. It doesn’t work, and you end up pushing against his chest as you walk backward to match his steps.

“Casey, I never wanted it to end like this. I didn’t want it to end at all. That’s why I didn’t bring it up. Part of me hoped this would never come and it could just be me, you, and this island forever,” you explain.

Casey shakes his head, but his hands leap up to catch you before you can stumble over a piece of driftwood. His jaw is tense, and you hate that you’re no longer in a position to hold his cheeks and kiss him until he relaxes.

“Please don’t let it end like this,” you beg softly. “I love you, I meant that, and I still do. So… why don’t we just leave this here? This relationship stays on this island, and if, someday, we can come back, you won’t hold this against me.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Casey replies.

“It can! It can, Case. Just tell me that you don’t hate me… please.”

“We’ll leave it on the island,” he agrees. “But you and I both know it will stay here.”

“Maybe, but it’s better than tossing it into the sea. You’ll always be my favorite boyfriend.”

Your attempt to lighten the mood works, though you only know because Casey’s fingertips pull the fabric of your outfit gently.

“I love you, Casey,” you promise again.

“I love you,” he replies. “But I wish I didn’t.”

Hours after you leave, Casey sits at the shore and stares at the horizon. His phone rings, and when General Beckman mentions a plane ticket to Los Angeles, he says goodbye to everything he has grown to love and leaves your relationship where it will rest for eternity.

2 Years Later

“Bartowski!” Big Mike yells. “Where’s John?”

“Uh, he’s on his break,” Chuck answers. “Why?”

“Nerd Herd call, need you to take him with you.”

“Take John? Why?”

“Because I said so! Find him and go!”

Chuck nods before he walks to the break room. It’s empty, as expected, so Chuck continues toward Castle. He moves down the stairs quickly but comes to a stop when he sees Casey leaning against a desk with his head down.

“Casey? You alright?” Chuck asks nervously.

“Fine,” Casey answers shortly as he stands. “What do you want?”

“Big Mike wants you to go out on a Nerd Herd call with me.”

Casey nods and gestures for Chuck to lead the way. Chuck shakes his head, though, put off by the lack of argument and grunting.

“What’s going on with you?” Chuck inquires.

“Nothing,” Casey snaps. “Just do your job and I’ll do mine.”

When Casey returns to his apartment after work, he collapses into his favorite chair and sighs. There’s a picture of a beach hanging on the wall, and he stares at it as he remembers his earlier conversation with Beckman.

“A new assignment?” Casey asks.

“An additional mission, Major Casey. The agency has located an assassin in Los Angeles. As far as our intel shows, there is no immediate threat to the Intersect, but she is closer to your operation than we would prefer,” General Beckman explains.

“Who’s the target?”

General Beckman says a name as a picture appears on the screen.

“Take her out and protect the asset, Major Casey.”

Casey can still see the picture in his mind. You look almost the same as you had on the island, minus the tan and the lovesick smile he remembers. Casey knows he should be angry with you for keeping your job a secret, but he did too. Worse, he already knows that he won’t be able to do his mission, not without a better reason than being in the same city as Chuck Bartowski.

First, though, Casey has to find you, and that’s something he is confident he can do. He tears his eyes from the picture of the beach where he last saw you to look at the files the NSA sent over. They’ve been watching you, or trying to, for weeks. You have one constant, a beach-themed restaurant at the city limits. It’s a dive, and Casey shakes his head because he knows you must love it. You were good at finding hidden gems, and for a brief, brilliant moment, he was one of those gems you held close. And then you left him, to go back to being an assassin, he realizes now. Yet, despite knowing how much blood you must have on your hands, Casey still feels something when he looks at you. Something he thought he lost long ago, even before your whirlwind romance in paradise.

“I have to go,” Casey announces. “Thanks for the hospitality.”

He rushes out of Ellie and Devon’s apartment. Beckman’s message has a location and your name, and he runs to his Crown Vic to get to you.

As he looks through his rifle scope from a building across from you, his finger hovers over the trigger. His mission would be over in a split second, yet he can’t bring himself to touch the trigger. He has options: he could lie and say you were already gone; he could do his job and kill you, or simply arrest you, let you go free… or he could approach you to talk before he makes a decision. You promised to keep loving him, and he shouldn’t remember that. Casey is trained to do his job, take the shot, and move on. But he already knows you are impossible to move on from.

Before Casey can decide what to do, you shoot. He swings his gun to find your target through his scope. He sees a man lying in a parking garage down the street.

“Nice shot,” he mumbles.

The man looks familiar, Casey thinks as he appraises your work. Recognition hits suddenly and powerfully, and Casey rushes to locate you again. Your previous spot is empty, and there’s no sign of you on the roof. You took out a Fulcrum agent and left. Simple, effective, job done. Casey has to find you again, but this time, he knows what to do when he does.

“Just tell me what I need to know,” you demand.

Your voice is muffled through the long-distance listening device. Casey watches you interrogate the Fulcrum agent, impressed by the fighting skills you demonstrated to detain him. Now, you press him for answers. You’re an assassin, and no matter how much he hates Fulcrum, Casey can’t let you kill this man. You lean over the man, laying your hand on the back of the chair he is tied to, and ask him again to answer your question. He shakes his head and the hand closest to you flinches. With a shrug, you step back from the man and slide your hand into your pocket.

Casey aims his rifle and exhales deeply as he depresses the trigger. A small puff of dust and debris explodes from the brick wall when the bullet makes impact. Casey doesn’t see it, however, as he lowers his hands and drops his head away from the scope.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before someone lays a hand on his back. In any other moment, he would turn and begin fighting, but he recognizes the touch, even after years apart.

“We need to go,” you urge.

Casey doesn’t speak, but he gathers his things and follows you. Something he should have done before.

In a safe house deep in the Angeles National Forest, you sit on the foot of a bed and look up at Casey. Neither of you has spoken, but Casey’s pacing leads you to remain silent.

He stops and looks away from you to say, “You’re an assassin.”

“I am,” you admit. “And you’re…”

“NSA,” he grunts. “I’ve been protecting an asset here in LA. You got too close.”

“Fulcrum is targeting your asset,” you say, leaning back against your hands. “I was hired to trace them and take out their leader, but it’s a pyramid scheme of conspiracy theories. Supercomputers, no clear leader… But they’re dangerous, and when I heard chatter about the ‘Intersect’ in Los Angeles, I knew this was where I needed to be.” You pause and evaluate Casey’s rigid body language before you add, “I didn’t expect to run into my favorite boyfriend again.”

“How long have you been an assassin?” he asks, rather than acknowledge your comment.

You know what he’s really asking, Is that why you left me? “A while. I went to Amsterdam for a job after the island. Fulcrum’s kept me busy since then.”

Casey nods and reaches for his phone.

“You’re turning me in?” you ask softly.

“No.”

His one-word answers make you smile. You missed everything about him but the way he communicates is special. Though you doubt you’ll ever hear him say the three words he said last time you were together again, he tells you plenty without monologuing.

“Then… Casey, is there any chance we could, you know, finish what we started on the island?”

“You don’t even know me,” he argues. “I was sent to kill you.”

“So, no. Got it. In which case, maybe you should call your-“

“I didn’t say no,” Casey interrupts.

“You have to do something!” you point out, raising your hands as you sit up.

“The CIA will likely be interested in someone with your skill set. Given that you’re open to doing things for government pay,” he mumbles the last part, but you catch it and smile.

“If I say yes to that, will you say yes to my offer?” you ask as you stand.

Casey huffs quietly. He can’t deny you, even if he wanted to. If he can’t convince you to start working with the law, for the same reasons as before, then he’ll be putting a target on your back. The NSA will send someone who will do the job without a second thought. You slide a paper out of your pocket and into his as he thinks. Intel, he assumes, from the Fulcrum agent you questioned.

“So, was it worth it?”

You lay your hands on his chest as you ask, but his mind races with questions about how it will work. Being with you on this side of paradise will be hard, but not impossible.

“What? Leaving?” Casey questions.

“No,” you tilt your face, prepared to kiss him regardless of his answer. “Taking a shot at me.”

“I wasn’t aiming at you.”

“I am.”

You kiss Casey, and the safehouse around you disappears as you return to paradise. Being in his arms takes you back to the island, and you will never walk away again. Casey won’t let you, he decides as he pulls you closer. The relationship you left on the island waited within both of you, and you kept your promise to keep loving him. Even if that means leaving the private assassin business to work for less pay, because you get to stay close to Casey. If that’s even his real name.

[finalgirleddiemunson]

Falling Like Snow (Dream x Reader)

summary: you reflect on how much you love the wintertime. Dream surprises you with a gift. (wc 2.0k)

warnings: nothing? I think? As always, let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: based on this request! Anon, I hope you don’t mind that I made this about the wintertime and snow in general rather than Christmas so that those who don’t celebrate Christmas can still enjoy :) 

masterlist

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“Do you like the snow?” Is the first question you present to Dream today. 

Dream- never one to linger in unnecessary pleasantries- does not look the least bit surprised by your lack of formal greeting. Instead, he simply gazes down at you from your spot curled in the cushioned window seat of your home. 

“I have no preference towards any type of weather.” Dream draws closer and you  can feel his presence by your side. 

You keep your focus on the flakes of snow drifting lazily outside, head leaned against the glass to get the best view. “Oh,” you frown at that, brows scrunching together slightly. “I guess that makes sense.” Where the snow touches the pavement below, it quickly melts, turning back to water and running into the gutters. 

Dream takes a seat on the other end of the window. “My answer has displeased you,” he notes. The sentence is both an observation and a question. While not always gifted in the wiles of human emotions, you know that Dream has made a tremendous effort in the time you’ve known him to change, to grow, to understand. You revel in being one of the people who gets to help him along his way. But then, there are times like these when you don’t have all the words to explain the intricacies of your own emotions to the Endless being before you.

“I’m not displeased.” You mull over your words for a moment. “I just love the snow so much, I wondered if you did too. I forgot that you don’t perceive it all the way I do. We do. Humans…” You trail off, shoulders shrugging. 

Dream’s knee knocks against you while he settles. The contact burns for a moment. “What do you find remarkable about snow?”

“Well, it’s not just the snow, is it?” You shift in your seat so that you can face him directly. You smile a little at the sight of the great King of Nightmares sitting amongst your throw pillows and flannel blankets. “It’s the whole season. When I was little I had this picture book, all set in this little village around the holidays. And even though the story wasn’t about the town, all I wanted to do was look at the pictures of the little winter village. I remember being so fascinated with how the artist managed to make snow on paper look real.”

His head tilts slightly. “What was the town like in this book?” 

“It looked old- the buildings, I mean, just little cottages. The shops had little signs hanging outside. The bakery, the cobbler, all of those. And if you looked close enough, one of the stores had hung mistletoe above their door. The roads were stone, and they had little worn trails from the people. But it’s the snow that I remember the most, snow covered everything. The kids in the book were having a snowball fight.” You laugh a little, “All I wanted in the world was to see snow that year, but it was too warm where my family was. I didn’t see a flake. I guess that’s why I love the winter so much now.”” You shrug and pull the blanket around you a little closer.

You feel your face heat with embarrassment as you realize how much you rambled. “Sorry, Dream, you didn’t want to hear all that,” you mumble, your gaze flitting downwards. 

“On the contrary,” Dream stands, graceful even in the sudden movement. “You have given me much to reflect on.” 

From one blink to the next and with a whisper of black sand, he is gone. You try not to focus on the disappointment bubbling inside you as you sink further into the cushions and return to watching the snow fall. 

—

If you dream the next three nights, you can’t recall them in the Waking. You try not to let that bother you, but Dream’s abrupt departure during your last conversation plays in a loop in your brain. 

Dream is often coming and going suddenly, staying only for as long as he can spare. You’re well aware that he has an entire kingdom to look after, but for some reason your latest conversation and his disappearance lingers with you. 

You must have done something, said something. You shared too much or rambled too long. Or maybe, a new thought occurs, Dream of the Endless has finally come to his senses and realized he has much better things to do than spend his time indulging one silly human. 

The thought feels like a concave opening ripped into your sternum. Like you’ve swallowed a black hole and it’s taken up residence in your chest. 

No, you reason with yourself, He wouldn’t do that. We’re friends at the very least. Not my Dream. 

You wonder when he became your Dream. 

You wonder if he considers in the same regard. 

When you find sleep that night, you finally feel yourself slip into the Dreaming proper. 

“Hello, Dream,” you say before you’re even totally conscious of your surroundings. You always know when he’s there in the same way that one knows the moon is in the night sky, even when it’s painted over new. 

He hums an acknowledgement. When you open your eyes, you find yourself inside the palace. He’s standing so close you  have to crane upwards to look at him. 

“I have given much thought to our last discussion,” he says. There’s something lingering in his expression, a hidden twinkle in his eyes that captures your attention. 

So caught in studying him it takes you a moment too long to respond. “Oh? What about?” 

“The weather.” He offers his arm and you take it, resting your hand in the softness of his coat at the inside of his elbow. He brings you to the towering windows at the far end of the room. You’re familiar with them- oftentimes scenes from different parts of the Dreaming play out here, the scenery and location changing frequently to show different parts of the realm. You’ve found yourself in front of these same windows more than once, watching Dream’s creations. Today, a hillside of soft green, dotted by trees and wildflowers that sway in the breeze takes place outside. 

Dream stops once you reach the middle of the glass panes. Long, pale fingers wave through the air, sweeping across the scene like the conductor of an orchestra. As he waves a hand, the glass begins to melt. 

No, no. Not the glass at all- the world outside of the glass. Green melts and swirls in blinding white, trees shift and grow stouter as they acquire windows and doors, clouds gather in the sky. 

The spring day fades away, replaced by a winter village. Antique lamp posts line a cobblestone street. Small cottages dot the scenery, decorated in twinkling lights, and their windows emit a gentle orange light from inside that suggests warmth and comfort. The architecture looks exactly as though it was plucked from the memory of your picture book and realized in vivid, exact detail. 

And then there’s the snow- snow touches everything, a fine layer settling on the rooftops and the roads and the branches of evergreens. In the fields, a thick coat already waits, powdery and glittering in the late sunshine. Flakes drift gently down, as though the world were trapped in a snow globe. 

You can’t help but reach out, hands pressed against the glass. It feels cool beneath your touch. “Dream,” you breathe, “It’s beautiful.”

“I hope it is to your liking.” There’s something to his tone that makes you feel you should face him, but you can’t tear your gaze away from the wonderland in front of you. 

“Your dreams always are,” you finally whisper. You notice a snowman between two of the houses. His red scarf flutters from a gust of wind. 

“This is your dream, as you described it to me. I can only hope to have done it justice,” Dream responds. 

That gives you pause. The knowledge that Dream has created something purely for you- that the Prince of Stories listened to your words and found inspiration from them. You’re at a loss for an adequate response that would convey how much the sentiment means to you. Instead, you try to swallow around the pressure building in your throat and blink away the sting in your eyes.  

Dream’s shoulder brushes against yours, his own hand reaching up to touch the glass. 

“Would you like to see it?”

You nod. As Dream touches the window, the glass moves, pushing in like a door. You step through the new opening and feel cold air on your skin. Not so cold as to make you uncomfortable, but to be reminiscent of the wintertime. Snow crunches under your shoes. You reach down to touch the powdery softness of the snow, fascinated by the way it both feels cold yet doesn’t burn or chill you to the bone. Dream logic, you think. 

You laugh, moving further into the town and tilting your face up to feel the flakes as they drift from the sky. Snow sticks to your eyelashes. 

There’s a giddiness filling up your body as you take in more details of the town- everything is exactly how you described it and more. 

You smile at Dream as he walks to your side. “You may visit it anytime you like, either at the windows to watch or you may seek it out as you do now. You need only to call for it, and it will appear to you. This dream is tied to you just as much as it is tied to me.”

Your brows furrow a bit as the words register. “Isn’t all of the Dreaming a part of you in some way?”

His expression softens, the hard line of his mouth pulling up at the corners as he looks at you. “So it is.”

To be tied to a part of him, to have the allowance and trust to a part of the Dreaming like this- it’s almost too much for you to comprehend, but you know what this means to Dream. You feel brave when you take his hand and guide him to the stairs of a nearby cottage. You dust away some of the snow and sit on the steps, pulling him down beside you. He follows you easily, allowing himself to be led by you. 

You decide to be vulnerable, to share a piece of yourself in the same way the Dream has. You take a steadying breath. “When I didn’t dream for the past few nights I was scared I had pushed you away somehow. Or that you were annoyed with me.”

Your hand is still in his. He turns your hand over and his fingers interlock in yours. His skin feels like silk against yours and you feel every point of contact like a supernova held between your palms. 

“I have forgotten one detail,” he murmurs. 

Your confusion quickly melts away when he guides your gaze upwards, his fingers a gentle pressure beneath your chin.

Above you, in the alcove of the roof, green sprouts overhead. Delicate and pointed leaves, dotted by berries, and tied together with a red ribbon are suspended from the cottage roof. 

Dream looks up at it, weaving its existence from nothing, forming it from his will alone. 

You watch it as well, and then feel your stomach flip when you recognize the plant. 

“Mistletoe,” you note. 

“I believe this was mentioned in your book.” Dream sounds delightfully coy. 

You can’t help your giggle, even as Dream’s hands bracket your face. Your heart has taken flight. 

“Yes, I believe it was,” You tease. You have swallowed a star and light pours out of you. 

“Are you familiar with the human custom?” Dream asks. His thumb traces your bottom lip. The snow has picked up around you, but the cold does not reach you. Instead, you feel unbearably warm. 

“Are you, Dream?” You ask. You can’t stop smiling. 

His kiss is his answer. 

[thesunshineriptide]

I’m sure you’ve gotten this asked a million times before but I’m curious on your take on it- Overblot Kalim? If not then maybe….Overblot Lilia

Overblot Kalim

It’s hard to imagine someone so happy go lucky, so seemingly oblivious finally snap, but make no mistake that Kalim is no idiot. He can see the edges fraying, the fractures in his relationships.

He needs Jamil to be loyal, not for his ego, but because everyone else is there to betray him. His relatives have sent assassins, his parents have their hands full, everyone around him is there to mooch off of his riches.

Jamil is the rock in the storm that he clings to, that he believes genuinely likes him, that he believes hung the moon and stars in the sky with his genius. He couldn’t continue without the support of his most trusted companion.

He can hold it together. He can grip tightly and superglue every piece of his life together in a mosaic, he can salvage his relationship with Jamil.

He works hard at it, too. He takes cooking lessons from Jade, so he can be more self sufficient. Jamil forbids him to use the stove, so he cooks with magic. He learns to mend his own clothes, he studies with Azul and Riddle in subjects he can’t quite grasp, he hosts his own parties and does his own laundry and does his absolute best to make sure Jamil can get a Break.

Jamil’s overblot is a wake up call to him, he had no clue of the resentment bubbling under the surface of Jamil’s cool, calm facade. He doesn’t want to make him feel enslaved or trapped. He wants him to feel equal, like Kalim had always thought of him.

But Jamil knocks down every attempt at getting better. No, you’re doing it wrong, give it here. No, I’ll do that, don’t worry about it. No, you can’t host another party, you need to focus. No, no, no.

He feels horrible that he’s done nothing more than stress out his confidant. He fails to see any improvement in his skills, despite the encouragement of those around him. It’s not good enough, because Jamil says it’s not. He’s failing to help someone he values dearly.

Everything he does is earnest and heartfelt, even if it isn’t what the other person wants. Which leads him to a party, celebrating Jamil. There isn’t anything he’s done recently, it’s just because he wants to show him how loved he is, how valued, how smart. That people see him.

Jamil flips out, though. He didn’t want a party, he hates them. He didn’t want these people here, he doesn’t like them, they’re not friends. He doesn’t want to stand out, he can’t overshadow Kalim.

And Kalim just…breaks

Nothing he does will be good enough for Jamil. He just makes mistake after mistake after mistake.

The blot envelops him like a warm hug, leaving the scent of ink and fiery cinnamon hanging in the air of the party. It leaves him not too different from before, but a pained aura hangs over him. It begins to pour outside, already flooding the sands.

“If you don’t want me to be anything more than a spoiled prince, why should I try to be anything else?” He seethes, eyes dark. “Nothing else I do is good enough.”

Nobody knows what to do, surprised at the sudden shift from Kalim’s normal self into this…this…

Behind Kalim is an inky mass of what looks like a saltan, perched cross legged on a magic carpet, staring down at those around them. Well, he would if he had eyes, but as for every phantom, his head is a corrupted magestone.

Kalim carries himself differently, walking with the strut of a peacock as he orders everyone around. Anyone that tries to flee finds themself at his whims.

He doesn’t go out of his way to hurt anyone. He doesn’t blame them,he blames himself. He can’t even make himself mad at Jamil, as much as he wants to be. It’s all his fault, isn’t it?

It’s easy to defeat him because of it. He won’t fight back, just tries to deflect all the attacks. He looks close to the brink by the time someone finally takes him down.

Overall his reign is short, but the self loathing doesn’t go away easily. Jamil can’t admit he was wrong, and Kalim can’t let go of the guilt.

Over time, they end up more distant. Kalim makes no more attempts to impress Jamil, instead continuing to focus on the skills he wants to learn, no longer relying as much on Jamil. And Jamil….he got what he wanted, didn’t he? He said he didn’t want to be friends with Kalim, and they’re practically strangers now, months later. This….he wanted this. Right?

Overblot Lilia

Silver finally succumbed to his curse, it seemed. Three weeks, and he hadn’t awoken no matter the attempts.

Lilia….Lilia wasn’t okay.

His son, the light of his life, the main reason for his changes over the years, ripped from his arms. And so young, too.

He wasn’t dead, and Lilia knew that, but what cure was there? In 17 year they had yet to find one.

Everyone around him walked on eggshells, even Malleus and Sebek, either refusing to talk about Silver or muttering an apology to him before speeding away.

“He’ll be okay, Lilia. We’ll find a cure.” Malleus had tried to soothe.

Lilia snapped. Every fiber of his body was bound as tightly cord, shattering at the simple sentence

There is no grief like that of a parent, and no fear like a good man going to war

“We’ll find a cure? Great. Glad to hear that. It’s been how long looking for one? And what, we’ll suddenly find it now?”

Ink dripped from his hands, pooling around his shoes. Malleus looked in horror, trying to calm him down frantically.

“I have a right to be angry! I have a right to grieve!” He yelled. The fires of the candles lighting Diasomnia commons burst and flickered like someone had poured fuel onto them, “don’t try and soothe away this pain! There is no salve or balm to fix this!”

Behind Lilia leered a black blob of a Raven with an orange beak and gemstone eyes as black as coal.

As a battle master and a war criminal, Lilia is a terrifying opponent. One that even Malleus can’t take on his own, and he’s forced to call for help from everyone he knows.

Lilia takes to Silver’s bedside, perched menacingly at anyone who dares near. He kidnaps doctors, healing mages, anyone with any power and forces them to work on a cure tirelessly.

His magic seems to have no end. He’s ancient and elderly and possibly more powerful than Malleus, meaning that what would be hours for anyone else is days of overblot.

The spells he cast are ones nobody’s seen in a hundred years, maybe longer. He’s slinging with no care to the people he hurts, no acknowledgement of the pain he’s causing in his wake

He doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t eat, instead he paces and hisses and acts like a complete monster. Feral, unfeeling, angry.

It takes almost an entire army to finally snap Lilia out of it. All the magic that it takes leaves everyone depleted, exhausted, injured.

Lilia’s rage doesn’t die. He doesn’t feel as though he’s done wrong, even if he knows it crossed a line or two. He works tirelessly even after, still trying to save his son from an eternal fate.

Putting my little authors note at the end but just wanted to say this was fun to think about. Also parents are terrifying and Lilia has that mama bear instinct. Both edits were done by me (which, to be clear, they are edits I did not redraw anything because I’m lazy and this was easier)

Who else do you want to see overblot?

[starlightazriel]

a court of love and scars

other parts

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part 12, Gwen

I paced back and forth by the door, it's all I had done for an entire day and a half straight. Where was he? Why hadn't he returned yet? How cruel this world was. To give me a night like that... A night filled with heat and passion and something that felt like love... Just to rip it all away from me.

Fear and dread twisted in my gut. I couldn't lose Azriel. Not after the night we shared, not after he made me feel the way that he did. And I didn't just mean the pure ecstasy that came from his sex. I meant the sense of calm and safety that I felt when I was with him. The sense that we were the only two people in the world, the bond that we shared after only knowing each other for a little over half a year.

"Something's wrong," Rhys paled, I whipped around to face him. "I heard him, he called out for me," Rhys breathed out. I stared him, my own face paling as well, bile rose in my throat.

"We have to go get him!" I clasped my hands together, tears pricking at my eyes. "Please Rhys let me help I can try to find him like he found me, please," I begged, Rhys looked pale, and afraid and I had never seen him like that.

"Yes, you can come. Mor!" he yelled out and she was down the stairs almost instantly Cassian in her wake.

"We have to go to the island, something's wrong," Rhys choked out, tears flooded down my cheeks. "You and Amrin stay," he says to Feyre and her brows bunch together as she looks at me. Why hadn't they already been there? Why hadn't someone went to get him the moment that me and Cassian arrived?

"Rhys I don't think.. I think she should stay here with us, it's not safe, she doesn't have enough training," Feyre says, taking a small step toward Rhys. He was scrambling around, getting himself ready for the journey.

"She's coming, we will need her," Rhys says, his tone firm as if he didn't want her to question it again. Feyre makes a face but she backs down. "Please be careful," she kisses her mate on the cheek, I cling to Mor who was now guiding me outside, reassuring me how strong Azriel is. I couldn't respond, I couldn't say anything. I felt hollow inside.

"How is she going to find him?" Cassian asked now standing by Rhys as we readied for him to winnow them, Mor would be winnowing me and her.

"They have a connection, it's how Azriel found her in Hybern he could hear her," Rhys muttered, holding Cassians arm. "I believe it could be.." he trailed off but his eyes landed on me and he didn't finish his sentence. Could be what? "Let's go," he says, and next thing I knew Mor was holding me and we were winnowing away.

We arrived on a beach, the sand was dark grey, almost black with flecks of white, and if you looked close enough you could see the white came from bits of bone scattered through the sand, a shiver ran up my spine.

I closed my eyes searching for him, I reached out to him, reaching a mental hand out, wide open for him to grasp. He didn't. Come on Azriel.

"The other side!" I call out, there was no one around, the beach was bare and empty. You could see a city of sorts, and a palace at the very top of the hill.

"In the palace?" Cassian asks and I shake my head. "No he's all the way on the other side, he's far but I can feel him," I mumble softly, staring in the direction that I could feel Azriel. He felt weak, I started running for him.

"Stop," Rhys winnows in front of me and I crash into his hard chest. "Be sensible, we want to stay undetected, we will winnow to the other side," he places a hand on my shoulder.

"He's hurt! He's weak, we need to go to him now!" My tone was panicked and I couldn't understand why none of them cared as much as me right now.

"Directly on the opposite side?" Mor asks, she was the only one who seemed remotely as concerned as me. I quickly nod, pointing directly across through the island as if he was through the center. She winnows us to the opposite side, it was more rocky here, jagged edged pointy black rocks sticking out from every which way, they looked like thousands of daggers. Rhys and Cassian weren't far behind us.

"There's nothing here," Cassian is the first one to speak and Rhys shushes him. My eyes are closed and I point, eyes still shut to a jagged rock cliff. "He's in there," I breath out opening my eyes now and I ran to it.

"There's nothing-" Cassian was cut off by my scream as I tore through the cliff Azriels glamor finally failing. His eyes were closed, head hanging down, chin resting on his chest. He was pale, so pale. There was pools of blood around him, tattered wings.. I could tell he had began to heal but it wasn't up to par as he would normally heal. "Get him! We have to get out of here!" I shouted, collapsing onto my knees at his side. I grabbed his face, shaking him slightly. Wake up. Wake up. I silently begged, sobbing.

"And fast," Cassian agreed, and he lifted Azriel with ease, my fingers slipping away from his body. "We need to get him to Madja, Rhys?" Cassian grunted, I glanced at Rhys, I had never seen him so pale since I knew him. He shakes his head as if he was snapping out of it and within the blink of an eye the three of them were gone, and Mor and I were left in the dank cave.

I was on my knees next to where Azriel had been, sobbing, feeling like I was falling apart. Like something inside of me was dying. "It's okay," Mor breathed and she squatted down beside me and hugged me, holding my head to her chest. "He's going to be okay, he's still alive now he's going to be fine we got to him just in time," she promised, stroking my hair. I sobbed and sobbed while she hummed and shushed me, promising over and over that everything was going to be okay.

"There!" A male voice snapped us both out of our trance, a small group of about 16 guards advanced toward us. Rage bubbled inside of me, I pushed Mor off of me, rising to my feet. They did this to him. Mor staggered back, her eyes widening a bit. "Gwen," she squeaked out, but it was too late. The cave exploded around us, sending shards of rock every which way, they sprayed everywhere, Mor screamed and shielded her face. Anger ripped through me and suddenly, I wasn't myself anymore... I was a winged beast. I roared at them, my large paws stamping down onto the sand. They all staggered back, eyes widening with fear. Mor was staring at me, back against the rock, pressed into it as if she was afraid to even try and interfere.

I ripped them to pieces, biting and thrashing, tearing off limbs. They screamed and begged and I kept at them, tearing through them with teeth and claws and strength. I could feel my fathers ancient power coursing through me. When they were all dead I fell into a heap at the floor, my fae form returning, clothes gone completely. Mor blinked, her mouth hanging open. We could see more guards on the horizon and she rushed to me with a shaky breath. "Now! We've got to go now!" her voice quavered as she gripped me, winnowing us away, back to Velaris. We burst into the house, Feyre was clutching her chest, eyes wide with worry as she rushed over to me, wrapping a blanket around my bare body.

"What was that?" Mor demanded voice still shaking as she put a healthy distance between us. I swallowed, my cheeks flushing.

"My father was a shape shifter... Apparently.. I am too," I choked out, Feyres eyes softened, her arm around my shoulders. "Where's Az?" It was my turn to demand now.

"Healer," Feyre responded quickly to put me at ease. "Get dressed and cleaned up and we will take you there," she tells me. I wanted to scream. I didn't want to wash and dress, I wanted to see him now. I rushed through a bath, scrubbing the dirt and blood off of me quickly, leaving the water swirling with brown. I threw on the first thing I could find. I quickly looked over myself in the mirror, purple circles were under my eyes, and small scratches covered my face and arms from the fight I had just gotten in. I was back in the main hall within minutes.

"Take me," I simply say, dusting my dress off a little bit, looking at myself in the mirror one more time. I felt different, I felt stronger, more confident knowing that there was a beast underneath my skin.

Mor linked our arms together and we walked, Feyre had stayed behind, telling us to come back soon with news. We walked down the path in silence for a couple moments before she broke it, "Did you know you could do that?" she finally asks and I glance over at her, shaking my head.

"Not at all," I say softly, staring ahead now, I couldn't wait to reach him. "That's the first time but... I think I could figure out now, how to summon the power," I shrug.

"Well you scared me half to death," she giggles softly as we walk. "Who knew tiny little Gwen could be so mighty?" she laughs again and I join her just a little bit. I wasn't so much in a humorous mood, I just wanted to see Azriel.

"Sometimes the smallest rabbits still bite," I shrug, still smiling just a bit, only because I used Azriels nickname for me. We reached Madjas and knocked softly before going inside. I rushed to his side immediately, his eyes were still closed as he slumbered peacefully, his wings looked better already. "Azriel," I whispered and I didn't care who was looking I pressed a soft kiss to his lips, Mor clutched her heart as if the sight was too much.

"Gwen," he breathed and his eyes fluttered open, we were so close, eyes locking as he opened his. His eyes widened and he straightened wincing in pain and grabbing his side as he did. "What happened?! Are you hurt?" he reached out to touch one of the scratches on my skin. I only shook my head at him. "Stop moving so much Az, I'm fine," I murmured placing my hand over his.

"Gwen is fine, you should see the other guys," Mor snorted, all eyes except for mine snapped to her, I was too busy gazing at Azriel, all I could think about was how relieved I was to see him awake and speaking. He was wincing now, obviously disturbed by Mors words.

"Guys?" Rhys inquired, leaning against the counter and raising a brow. I had known for a while that Rhys was interested in whatever abilities I might have.

"16 of those guards! Gwen tore them apart limb from limb," Mor exclaimed, Azriels mouth had turned into a thin hard line, he looked angry? "She's a shapeshifter! She was enormous!" Mor was obviously excited, Cassians brows raised and Rhys eyes danced with starlight and curiosity.

"And what was her form?" Rhys asked Mor, rubbing his chin now with one of his hands. "Beast," Mor giggles with delight. "Pure animalistic terrifying beast," she emphasizes, nodding twice. "A winged beast, paws the size of my torso! She was beautiful and mighty golden fur that was flecked with the most beautiful purple," Mor explained, my cheeks flushed bright red at the description.

"Interesting," Rhys smiled, nodding in approval. My eyes didn't leave Azriel, he threw Rhys a death glare before looking back at me.

"You shouldn't have even been there," Azriel spoke gruffly, Mors excitement dimmed and she realized maybe now wasn't the best time to out all of that.

"I was fine Azriel," I snapped a bit, surprise flashed through his eyes at my tone. "At least I didn't go alone," my eyes narrowed at him, causing him to blush a bit, perhaps remembering the situation he was in.

"Let's give them a moment alone," Rhys stands straight, ushering Cassian and Mor outside. Azriel stared back at me, studying my face, I could tell he wanted to say something, it was right there on his lips.

"I'm sorry," he finally breathes out, averting his gaze. I could tell that wasn't what he was going to say. "You're right, it was a foolish thing to do... I just.. After we..." His voice trailed off and he looked back to me again.

"What is it Az?" my breathing was ragged, the tone of the room weighed heavy on me. I could feel it. Whatever he was about to say would change things.

"I realized Gwen.." He mumbled shyly, his eyes dropping down again. "After the night we shared I realized that you are my mate," he was whispering now, and his eyes slowly dragged up to meet mine.

You are my mate. The words echoed in my head over and over, my lips slightly parted as I stared back at him.

"Please say something," he breathes out, I realized then, how long it had been, how thick and heavy the silence lay between us.

"I love you," was all I could think of.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

so fluffy someone ttm or send me a request or somethinggg please. i need something else to write so i don't get bored of this. ill try to have 13 up tomorrow xoxox

[dc-said-bi-robin-rights]

In Another World (1151 words) by ajvt

Tools, like him. Machines. Beeping. People standing over him. Latex gloves caressing his body, like worms, like sand. Face masks. Scalpels glinting under overhead lights.

He’s at the Farm. He never left.

no stop not again I will make you pay I will make you scream

“Cyrus?” Voice, faint. Light. Alarms, blaring. Roaring. Boots. Get them. Stop them. No escape. She won’t allow it. She won’t let her stop it.

“Cyrus, can you hear me?”

Maybe he did leave. Not that it matters. He’s back, and it’s worse this time. Not even a cuckoo. Just a thing.

“Cyrus, you need to wake up.” Why? Does it matter? They’ll make him anyway. He doesn’t need to do anything.

“Cyrus!”

Unless…

“Cyrus!”

Static. Familiar, like a hug. Scary, once. But not like theirs. Not completely. Not where it mattered.

“Cyrus!”

The man who was once Sidestep peels back the lid of his true eye and sees only static. His other eyes, his false eyes, his man-eyes, though… they see the woman.

An impossible thing. A weak hope.

And yet here. Here and real.

His lips crack open, parched and weak from years of disuse. He doesn’t know how many. “Ortega?”

Alarms blare, again and again. A storm of thoughts engulfs his senses, a haze clouding his visions. And yet the smile of the woman that looks down on him as real as a memory.

“You’re awake. Thank God. I thought…”

“You… you can’t be here,” he interrupts, blinking as if doing it enough times would dispel the illusion. “You moved on. You stopped looking.”

“What are you talking about?” Ortega asks, before shaking her head. “Nevermind, forget i said anything. We need to get you out of here before the guards come.”

“The… guards…?”

“Yes, the guards,” Ortega says, moving over to the machines holding him in place, out of his line of vision. It vexes Cyrus, not being able to turn his head to look at her, not being able to feel her in his mind, to simply have to trust that she is there. But she is, and a moment later, he hears the crackle of lightning surging into the machines behind him, followed by the release of the clamps around his extremities.

He was free. Just like that. Cyrus felt sudden tears spring to his eyes, tears which he angrily blinked away. So long spent lying down, half-naked, a thing for their tools to poke and prod… and then it was just over. Like a switch. It was almost too much to believe, too much to trust.

“Can you stand?” Ortega’s voice again, from behind him. Cyrus barely hears her, so she sighs and picks him up, holding him to her chest bridal-style as his eyes flutter closed. The practical part of Cyrus’ mind doesn’t like that—she should keep at least one arm free in case she needed to fight, he knows that—but he is so inconceivably, inexplicably exhausted he can’t bring himself to voice that thought. It was the kind of tiredness that went beyond the physical, like the point after a fight where the adrenaline wears off magnified a thousand fold.

It didn’t matter, though. Ortega was here. He didn’t have to be strong anymore. He could just… sleep. It would be all okay. Things would work themselves out, and…

They’re in a corridor. A man stands in front of them, a guard, like Ortega said. He is shouting, inside and outside. Cyrus can hear him, inside and outside. His thoughts are like a stream of hail, pointed and sharp, scared and furious, focused outwards. Towards them. Towards him. He has a gun, long, smooth, with a pump. A shotgun. He won’t hesitate to shoot if Ortega doesn’t turn back. Doesn’t stop. Doesn’t leave him here.

A moment later, the gun goes off in the guard’s mouth. He drops to the floor, chunks of his head splattering the walls. The only choice. One he doesn’t regret.

Ortega holds him tighter. Is she scared? Of him? That doesn’t make sense to Cyrus. She’s the Static. He should be scared of her.

“Come on,” she says, shaking off her shock. Cyrus doesn’t miss the fact that she steps over more bodies than just that of the guard as she continues forward. One of them is charred, which is interesting, because usually Ortega makes an effort not to kill.

Some of them aren’t, though. Most of them aren’t.

Was the guard the first? The last?

“You okay down there?” Ortega’s voice. They aren’t in a corridor anymore. He can see the sky.

The sky. How long has it been since the last time he could claim that?

“I should be asking you that question,” he says. It smells like burnt meat.

“I’ve still got enough juice to get you out of here.” A grimace. A smile? She doesn’t like killing. She’s doing it anyway, because Re-Genes don’t stop coming, don’t stay down when they should. Pain-Gate. Like the one he had.

Has she gone mad, like him? Mad, for him? Cyrus doesn’t know. Cyrus doesn’t care.

“You work for the government.” It’s a non sequitur, not to mention a stupid thing to fixate on, but she’s a Ranger. “You can’t do this. You’re a Ranger.”

“Not today I’m not.” Ortega smiles, and somehow he knows right then and there that this is fake. “Today I’m…”

He never gets to hear her finish.

His eyes snap open to darkness, sweat sliding down his body as he sits up, heart racing. The sheets feels familiar, as does the bed underneath him, and when he sends his frantic mind out he can sense only the woman, downstairs… cooking, humming to herself, thinking of bacon and cereal and other inane insanities. Beyond that, the fluttering thoughts of the horses. The goat that was more than a goat. And next to him…

“Hey,” says the Static, sitting up in bed, voice soft. She places her hand on his shoulder—his naked shoulder, because it doesn’t matter if she sees anymore, not after the crash. “You okay?”

The Ranch. Ortega. It’s a relief, in some ways. It’s a disappointment, in others.

“Just a dream,” Cyrus says, because he doesn’t blame her anymore. It was Steel who abandoned him, not her. He knows that now. “Go back to sleep.”

“Mmmh, if you say so.” Ortega presses a kiss to his shoulder and lays back down, closing her eyes. “Was it at least a nice dream?”

“It was about you,” he admits, which makes her grin. Cyrus rolls his eyes, even though she can’t see it. “Can it, old woman. Just because it was about you doesn’t mean it was nice dream.”

“Well, was it?”

She’s too smug for her own good.

Doesn’t mean she’s wrong.

“It was.” He lays back down and closes his eyes, feeling Ortega place her arms around his waist. “It really was.”

[frankencanon]

I saw someone's modern AU fanart of some Naruto characters and when I saw Gaara it made me wonder...

How might we adapt Gaara's canon backstory into a modern no-powers AU so that he goes through a fairly similar character arc, with his relationships with his siblings and other characters being as faithful as possible to the original series...?

And I'm tentatively leaning towards untreated schizophrenia and subsequent insomnia to explain the lack of sleep and other characters' fear of him, followed later by his improved mental health and social relationships.

The insomnia would of course be caused by the schizophrenia (Shukaku won't stop screaming), and as for the schizophrenia...

In addition to the the obvious (talking to people who aren't there, etc)—I know television isn't the best source, but...

From what I remember of Fight Club and Mr Robot, from the outside the schizophrenia would sometimes appear like Dissociative Identity Disorder instead, where actions taken by the hallucination (Shukaku) would in reality be performed by the individual who is hallucinating (Gaara).

So Shukaku attacking people or saying creepy shit would manifest as little Gaara doing that instead—hence his siblings', father's, and the other townspeople's fear of him.

The only issue would be Gaara's Sand Defense...

Part of what made him so scary to everyone was that he was untouchable. Nothing you did would ever phase him; there was way for you to hurt him.

And for that, I am also tentatively considering giving him congenital insensitivity to pain—also known as CIP.

Something you've probably heard of before, CIP is when a person is unable to feel pain.

It's actually incredibly dangerous—imagine having appendicitis but not realizing until it's already too late because you're unable to feel it—but the reason I'm considering giving it to Gaara is because while it would not make him invincible—far from it, actually—it would instead give him the appearance of invulnerability.

Can you imagine seeing a kid get stabbed or break an arm or something, and he just stands there, completely unaffected, completely unfazed...

A little kid, just five years old or something, and he just looks down at the knife in his wherever and just...pulls it out. Without blinking.

An adult would find that creepy. But a kid, the same age as him? They would probably think him immortal or something. Invincible. Unkillable.

Little baby Gaara, unable to feel pain and suffering from untreated schizophrenia and subsequent insomnia... Why is it untreated? Because his father's an asshole, that's why.

Luckily when he's twelve his father gets murdered and him and his siblings are taken in by family friend Baki.

In the wake of the murder and subsequent scandel, Baki ends up deciding that it'd be a good idea for them to move—to get away from all of this.

They go to a new school where no one knows Gaara but they quickly become wary of him anyway because of his behavior...

Enter Naruto.

Naruto, who was put on medication for schizophrenia just a few months ago or so.

Naruto, who grew up hated by those around him because his similarly schizophrenic mother killed his father and herself after someone snuck into the hospital, into the private VIP section reserved for the president's wife (this is going a bit off the rails, whoops), and slipped some strong drugs into her IV which induced severe hallucinations and caused her paranoia to skyrocket—

(She was already at risk because she temporarily had to go off her meds since they would mess with the pregnancy and put both her and the baby at risk, but it should've never gotten to that point, it never should've gotten that bad, that out of hand—it was entirely That Man's fault, not that anyone acknowledged that afterwards...

Damnit, Obito.

No, they found out Kushina was schizophrenic and they all automatically blamed her, assumed that her being schizophrenic made her dangerous and unsafe to be around, and that her son would be just like her...)

Naruto, who grew up with the adults around him constantly expecting him to snap—their wariness causing a similar wariness (distrust, distaste, avoidance) in their children.

Naruto notices Gaara, and he gets him help—tells Kakashi-sensei who tells Baki who had up till now had been warily avoiding the child, taking notes from Gaara's shitty father, and not bothering to consider why Gaara behaved the way he did...

Gaara is taken to get help. He's prescribed medication and eventually starts to get better, bit by bit. Shukaku quiets and Gaara is finally able to sleep—which surprisingly (it really shouldn't be surprising) does wonders for his mental health.

And throughout all of this, Naruto is an invaluable presence—the wonder that is having a friend who understands, and who isn't afraid of him...

Anyway, yeah. That's how I think it could work—just replace jinchūriki with schizophrenia basically... Plus some other stuff.

—

※ Quick reminder: I do not have any of the disorders listed—schizophrenia, insomnia, or congenital insensitivity to pain.

My knowledge of these conditions mostly comes from television and the internet; please take it with a grain of salt.

I repeat:

I am not a reliable source of information for any of this.

Thank you for your time.

[jazzpostsrandomthings]

Journey Retold: The Three Grand Companies

<< Previous Entry

Woops! A full month has passed since I last wrote for this series, my bad. Was busy with exams (aced the last one yesterday) and witnessing my friend go through Shadowbringers for the first time. I have a lot more free time now so I can finally continue Journey Retold!

There will be a preamble of sorts next, feel free to skip around until you see a text written in purple.

One of my friends told me that I should shorten the names of the players when I am inserting their messages into these posts. His suggestion was to shorten "The player of the self-proclaimed Emo Catboy" to "Emo Catboy" for example and he has a point, but I am not going to. I wanted to switch to a format of "The player of [WoL Full Name]" actually, but I had to make a choice against it out of my respect for the privacy of my dear first friend I've made through the game upon their own request so I am not going to do the switch because otherwise they would stand out like a sore thumb.

Another reason why I don't want to shorten the names like this is that... I feel like it's important to point out that there is a real person behind each of these characters. I find it one of the coolest and most magical things about FFXIV and MMO genre as a whole, and for an extravert like me who only goes outside for studies it just holds a lot of weight. Not all interactions with these player characters and people behind them themselves might be pleasant, it's a double-edged sword all multiplayer games and social medias even have to deal with, but an overwhelming majority of these interactions have brought me joy and laughs and it all just feels more real than just interacting with someone over Discord DMs and such.

The issue of the player names being too long in these posts during the messaging segments is real so from now on I will shorten it to "TPo [simple character description]", like "TPo Emo Catboy" or "TPo stern Auri man". That should do it.

...

OK, where did we stop last time? Ah, right, Ifrit.

Pi had slayed a monstrocity from the deep depths of hell yaaaaaaay.

I picked the msq back up the next day, judging from the screenshots' date. The word of Pi's conquest over the Lord of Inferno had spread quickly, like a wildfire, and the officers of the three Grand Companies had arrived to the Waking Sands, wanting to have Ifrit's bane to themselves. I was hit with a choice between these three Grand Companies, i.e. Limsa Lominsa's Maelstrom, Gridania's Order of Twin Adders and Ul'dah's Immortal Flames. And I wanted to join Maelstrom right away because I like Merl-- I mean, I like Limsa and I am the most familiar with it, but I was open to seeing what can other two city-states offer and thus I had set for Ul'dah first.

Raubahn entered the scene, as well as a cute lalafell woman wearing a weird dress that honestly makes her look like a bowling pin when she stands, I am sorry. That lalafell, Nanamo Ul Namo, is the sultana of Ul'dah by the way and it was my first time seeing her.

Their combined speech was very strong, talking about their glory and wealth (both in monetary fortune as well as the spiritual) and how they laid low the VIIth Imperial Legion five years ago.

For Victory and Fortune, stride fearless into the inferno, for we are by fire reborn!

Some young and kinda familiar gentleman had something to say about that last line:

So that's how it happened. How soon history forgets.

The speech was met with a round of applause and cheering, and like I've said before, the speech itself was very strong, I actually started to think that maybe Flames can win me over. Then the twins (or rather one of them) decide to speak to me to explain some things that were kinda glossed over in the grand speech, mentioning the refugee problem and their relationship with Amalj'aa that keep summoning Ifrit and costing many soldiers' their lives.

Next up was Gridania. The speech was mainly presented by Kan-E but her brother and sister (and also another seedseer) were also present, even if they didn't say anything.

The Elder Seedseer's speech was about peace and harmony. She talked about uniting Eorzea to fight the Empire and to protect the place that have been their home for almost five centuries.

And together, let us heal the forest's wounds, that our progeny might live in harmony beneath these ancient boughs. For serenity, purity, and sanctity!

I liked the speech as well, but it wasn't as memorable and strong as Raubahn's and I felt like this would be the Grand Company Pi would most likely side with canonically since he is mostly pacifistic and he wishes for the fighting to stop so there could be peace. Alphinaud chimed in again, mentioning how Gridania has to deal with two beast tribes, Ixal and sylphs, and how all the fighting they do is in self-defense. He also mentioned that their lands have been hurt the most by the Calamity which only complicated things for them and soon their bickering with the beast tribes can turn into an all-out war which is why they might need more people to deal with it when the time comes.

Now, all that remained was Limsa Lominsa.

Merlwyb's speech was about freedom, how their nation was fighting for it for seven centuries since they came to La Noscea and how they would like to keep their freedom until their very last breath.

And with the guidance of the Navigator, this great vessel of ours shall ride the waves till sea swallows all!

Alphinaud spoke to Pi once more, mentioning that Lominsans have a lot of blood feuds betweens the factions that comprise the city-state, not to mention the two beast tribes, kobold and Sahagin that both want to take the place for themselves and are planning on summoning their respective Primals to help them with that. All that made them quite an easy target for Garleans which is why they would be needing more men soon, "drenching the Maelstrom standard a deeper shade of crimson ere long".

Freedom is also something that Pi as a character have been craving for because of his passion for travel and exploring, but he wasn't the person to kill somebody for it... but I didn't want to disappoint Merlwyb so I ended up choosing Maelstrom in the end. Sorry Kan-E and Raubahn ;w;

Next up we see Alphinaud and his twin sister Alisaie talk about the speeches between themselves. The sister says how those remembrance ceremonies (because yes, these speeches were dedicated for those celebrations) didn't talk much about the Calamity and were mostly about "standart-waving rallies" while the brother remarks how they didn't even mention the Warriors of Light, as if they chose to omit their deeds in saving their realm in order to move on from the Calamity. Alisaie did not agree that was a right choice.

She couldn't stand it all and chose to find a different way "to cute ails of this world", the twins going their own separate ways. For now, at least.

And then it was the time to get my chocobo.

Say hello to Eorzean Axl by the name of Gingerhead. I made him into Pi's horsebird lol.

Then I did the next msq quest which was Sylph Management which allowed me to unlock Summoner and Scholar. I went on to do... Summoner one before continuing the main story.

"Huh? But didn't you choose Arcanist to then unlock a Healer job?" Yes, I did, but I realized that I actually have a Healer anxiety and that I probably won't play as a Healer much anyway, plus beating MSQ as a Healer will be pain so YUP, I chose violence.

First chain of SMN quests was OK. Kinda cool, but not memorable. Even thought our quest companion was Y'shtola's sister.

And to conclude this entry, have this hilarious screenshot.

We will be dealing with sylphs next.

[umnitsa]

what you say about going to the lake with alexei, i know for sure that he will make the summer days even hotter

thank you in advance for the story

Hot

Summary: Alexei, a *mostly* private beach, and the results of his teasing.

A/N: I really hope you don’t mind me changing the prompt a little bit. I’m Brazilian, from Rio de Janeiro, and when you said ‘summer days with Alexei’ I immediately imagined him at the beach. Also: oh, god, I don't know where all of this came from. Damn. i really hope you like it <3

Pairing: Alexei x fem!Reader

CW: PIV (unprotected, please don't do this), Alexei trying to tease, riding, semi-public setting, Alexei as a bond girl (you'll understand when you read it).

You huffed, carrying your backpack and two bags of groceries; Alexei was carrying at least five times more, with a huge smile on his face. The wind blew on his face as the boat surrounded the island, making small stops to let people out.

You asked for a small vacation, Alexei decided on a tropical island, very hidden, very private, and very remote. It sounded dreamy.

After hours of flying, a bus, and now a boat, you were close to the house.

You watched Alexei, in his mid-thigh shorts and his tank top, the blue-ish tattoos visible on his shoulders and his chest. He looked at you over the aviator sunglasses, the dark baseball hat was pulled back. He was grinning wildly, and once you looked back, he wiggled his eyebrows.

“You look so excited!” You giggled, nuzzling his chest.

“Few days alone with you, on the beach! Of course, I’m excited.” Alexei chuckled. “Also, I got new swimsuit, I’m curious if you will like it.”

The boat stopped, and one of the crew gave you a sign. You two disembarked on the dock, thanking profusely.

You gave Alexei one of the bags and checked your mobile, for the exact location of the house. It looked like a small fishing village and the beach was long, with a short line of sand. The house was close to the dock, hidden from direct view by some trees. Discreet.

You reached the house and settled in just in time to watch the sunset. You were both so tired you just took showers and went to bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

***

You woke up before Alexei, and he looked so beautiful, all sprawled on the bed, you decided not to wake him up. You put on a bikini and moved to the kitchen, to make yourself some coffee. You sat down with your mug on the balcony, sipping on your coffee, letting the sun caress your skin.

You sipped on the warm coffee, listening to the waves, until you heard Alexei’s heavy steps around the house. You smiled, closing your eyes.

“Ta-daaa.” Alexei said softly, entering the living room. “Ready to swim?”

You turned, to look at him, and the sight made you gasp. He stood in the living room, arms open, wearing only a pair of deep red swim briefs, showcasing his strong thighs. He turned around, so you could see his whole body. You sighed, squeezing your thighs together; he stood close to you and picked your mug, taking a sip and looking outside.

Alexei looked down to you, still watching him move, wide-eyed, your jaw slack. He smirked.

“You like?”

“For some reason I expected you would wear swim trunks. Or shorts. This…” You whistled, then chuckled.

“Why should I, if you like my body that much?” His voice was soft; he blushed a bit. You raised a hand and slid your palm down his side and over his ass. “Oooo, myshka.” He chuckled softly. You smacked his ass and he choke on the coffee, then laughed. He placed the mug on the small table by the chair and held a hand to you. “Stand up, let me see you.”

You chuckled and stood up, he whistled appreciatively. Alexei wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you up, nuzzling your cheek.

“You keep looking at me like this and these will get too tight.” He chuckled and kissed your cheek.

“I don’t think I wanna swim anymore.” You kissed him lightly, sighing.

He laughed, squeezing your ass, and stepping back.

“Swim first. I’ll let you rub sunscreen on me.”

***

Alexei smiled as he entered the water. He had teased you as much as he could up to now, and he enjoyed every single sigh and whimper that came from your lips during the whole time.

He knew he could push you further. He wanted to see you lose control, for once.

And he secretly hoped it would happen soon. You felt so good under his hands as he applied sunscreen on you. He almost gave his plan up and licked one bead of sweat that slid down your neck into your cleavage.

Alexei swam a few laps along the beach, enjoying the currents, then floated for a little while, watching as you turned to get your tan.

You stretched, lazily, enjoying the empty beach, and sat up.

Alexei raised from the sea, one hand rubbing down his face, then smoothing his hair back with the other. Water running over his body, glistening under the sun, he walked in your direction. You raised your sunglasses over your head, in time to see him lazily rubbing a big hand over his chest. With each step of his, more and more of his body appeared, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. He smiled, droplets of water running down his chest, as he took the last steps towards you.

You could only think of tracing his tattoos with the tips of your fingers and tongue.

Alexei stood in front of you, hands on his hips, looking down at you. You licked your lips, and he rearranged himself into his briefs.

You stood up, grabbed your towel, and packed everything silently, under Alexei’s puzzled expression.

“Enough swimming.” You said, tense, your thighs rubbing together.

“But you didn’t…” Alexei interrupted himself with a chuckle as you stared at him, lips pressed into a line. You grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of the house. “What happened, myshka?” He asked, feigning innocence.

“You happened.” You grumbled.

Alexei moaned softly, squeezing his cock with his free hand, then picked you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He almost ran to the house.

He gently placed you on the ground and you pushed him towards the deck chair in the balcony.

“Myshka!” He laughed, as you climbed on him, licking the salt from his neck. He moaned, his hands moving to rest gently on your hips. You straddled his thighs and rubbed against him.

“Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing?” You asked almost angrily, pulling his briefs down, and releasing his cock. He watched you, with wide eyes as you pulled your bikini to the side and pushed his cock into you. Tou trembled, eyes closing, under his gaze. “Fuck, you feel so good…”

“People will see us…” He whispered softly, squeezing your hips, but doing nothing to stop you.

“I. Don’t. Care!” You growled, punctuating each word with a thrust of your hips, pulling a moan from him. Alexei moaned, grabbing your hair and pulling you to kiss him.

You grabbed his chest, sinking your nails in his skin, bouncing as fast as you could, his hands moving over your ass. You sat up, to watch his face; he pulled your bikini down, releasing your breasts, your nipples hardened.

Alexei took one breast in his hand, pinching a nipple as you bounced, and his eyes shifted from your face to the other, until he leaned to bite and suck on it. You sped up, slamming your hips against him to drown your frustration. He moaned, leaning back and grabbing your hips.

“Harder?” He asks and you whine.

He grabs your hips and lifts you up like a doll, pulling you hard against his hips, as hard as he knows you can take it. You moan loudly, aroused by his strength, by his ability to lift you as if you weighed nothing.

Alexei grunted with each thrust, your hands on his shoulders, so you could balance yourself. He watched you, focused.

“Come for me.” He ordered; his voice low, almost like a growl. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, splashing between your bodies. Alexei looked at you in awe, mouth half open, and weakened his thrusts, to focus on how you felt around him.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” You whined, and he renewed the vigorous thrusting. “One more, Alexei, one more.”

Alexei closed his eyes, frowning, trying to hold his own climax, so he could give you exactly what you asked for. You bounced on him, your body going slack, and when he opened his eyes, they were glassy and wide.

“Please, love… Please…” He begged. You felt yourself tightening again, soaring through a second orgasm. Alexei hugged you, wrapping himself tight around your body, and with a last powerful thrust emptied himself inside you.

“Fuck.” He said softly against your hair. He kissed your forehead, unwilling to move.

Eventually, the heat was too much to stand and he released you, with a groan.

“You will be the death of me. I am old man.” He said softly, between chuckles, carrying you to the shower.

[scifrey]

Cling Fast: Chapter Seven

By Losyark The Sandman (Netflix with some sprinkling of comics canon, and Gaiman Cinematic-Literary Universe canon) Dreamling (Hob Gadling x Dream of the Endless | Morpheus) Unfinished (tentatively 10 chapters) PG-13 (for now) Unbeta’d

*

Author's Note: Those of you who have been following along at home will note that Hob's co-owner of The New Inn is now named Patrick instead of Dennis. No reason for the change, except that there were too many 'D' names floating around and I was loosing track of who is who.

*

Hob wakes up with a splitting headache, but otherwise no other effects from his hangover. Except for the sinking feeling that comes with remembering that he screwed up his 1589 feast again.

Would it be pathetic to try a third time? Especially knowing now that Morpheus rarely eats, and when he can be persuaded to, it's never British fare.

Yeah, it would be pathetic.

Hob rolls onto his back and presses his hands to his face.

He doesn't remember drinking more when he got home, but he was definitely out of it when he hit the Dreaming. It felt more like somebody had slipped something into his water bottle, but he can't imagine that anyone on set would drug him. Besides, the fey food artist had kept an eye on it all day for him, and it wasn't until after they'd parted ways with a handshake that he really started to feel woozy.

When he turns to look at the clock, groaning and sandy-eyed, he finds a light dusting actual dream sand sprinkled on his bedside table, along with a glass of water and a bottle of paracetamol. The clock reads 4:13am, so Hob takes a pill, drinks half the bottle, and sweeps the sand onto his face.

One of these days, I'm going to scold that anthropomorphic personification of a concept for leaving his shit all over the place, Hob thinks. But not today. He sinks back into sleep, grateful for Morpheus' thoughtfulness, and spends the rest of the morning laying on his back in the grass of Fiddler's Green. He and Gilbert make shapes out of clouds, and chew on coriander stalks amid a bed of flowers that Hob calls foxgloves, but Gilbert corrects him and calls gillyflowers.

"Two very opposite things," Gilbert says gently, through the rustle of the wind through the boughs of a nearby copse of French willows. Hob is reminded what the fey food artist said, that flowers scream their secrets.

"Never got into floriography," Hob confesses to Gilbert. "You know, back when it was all the rage and people were sending each other bouquets that said 'meet me in the garden at midnight', or 'my father says I am never to see you again', or 'I want you to do me dirty seven ways from sunday.' Maybe I should."

Gilbert's laughter is in the babble of a brook. The dream doesn't elaborate though, because Hob's alarm rudely interrupts them. All thoughts of tracking down a book on flower language fly from his head as he drags himself through a quick shower, and races down the back stairs of the New Inn while the transpo van idles in the drive and honks obnoxiously.

*

Hob gets to wear a few different costumes today, which is nice. He was sweating to death in the black velvet. They're filming all the scenes that need to happen in the study today, which will all be woven into the ten different episodes, so Hob's in and out of the wardrobe trailer on the front drive constantly.

That's why he notices that someone's left the outside door to the solar standing open.

This is one of three doors to the solar, the one that leads directly out into the back garden, where his bench and apple tree still blessedly stand. The other two doors are off the kitchen, so the maids could bring El her afternoon indulgences directly, and another that was knocked into the outer wall of the withdrawing room.

While the door is open, the heavy curtains are still drawn to protect the fragile textiles within from sun damage.

Hob has been desperate to catch just a glimpse of the eden he'd built specifically for his wife. He's seen the photos on the postcards in the gift shop of course, but it's not the same thing. Those pictures have it dressed for the Edwardian era, to reflect the last time the house was occupied by a family.

But the set-dec team has re-dressed it according to the descriptions in El's diary, and the merchants receipts for the fabrics, flowers, and furniture. They'd even found notes on what kind of pottery and dishware El had kept in there, a screed in the loveletters between Eliza and Will as the maid raged over the ridiculousness of having special dishware that the mistress will only take her supper on when it's being served in the solar.

Hob sneaks over to the door, and cautiously pokes his face in. Nothing is moving in the cool dark of the room, and he can't hear anything, so he slips inside and closes the door behind him. Not all the way, though, in case someone has just stepped out and left it open on purpose. He doesn't want to be caught where he shouldn't be.

Shouldn't be, he snorts to himself. I built the damn place.

The cameras are all in the study, nobody is here but him, so Hob gives himself permission to react. He feels his face crumple, and bites his lips to keep in the noise trying to crawl out of his throat. The study is right on the other side of the brick wall. He doesn't want the crew to hear him, or they may make him leave, and he's not ready for that yet.

God's Wounds, thank you, Hob sends up the prayer, but he's not sure to whom. He’s not sure it matters. Thank you for letting me have this.

The glass is different. It's newer, clearer, smoother; clearly a later addition. The small diamond-shaped panes have been replaced by long, modern sheets. But the size of the frames are still the same, wide as Hob's full arm span and at least ten feet to the ceiling. The windows are separated by a single row of red brick, the frames black metal, a dark red drape pulled across each of them. And the roof, which in Hob's day was thatched, is presumably now also made of glass, as there are light canvas tarps pulled taught on a winding pulley where the solar meets the rest of the house.

The floors are piled with carpets, to dampen the echoes that the glass had created, so El could hear herself playing. The ones the production has provided are far too modern in design, but the camera isn't going to spend a lot of time pointed at the floor, so it doesn't matter. 

What does matter is that the furniture is absolutely correct, and exactly where it used to be. The little cluster of a table and chairs, where El and Robyn used to do his numbers lessons together, where they'd snack on fruit and sweets while Hob was a docks, is in the corner by the door. On Sundays, when the three of them had just returned from church, Hob would sit on the bench under the apple tree with his pipe, and watch Eleanor pull Robyn into her lap at that table, and feed him bread pudding and tell him stories that would make him giggle and clap his hands.

Beside that, under the windows sits the long, skinny sofa. It has miniscule padding and none of the springs and memory foam of the modern version, but Hob fell asleep stretched out on it's welcoming yellow damask, listening to El pluck her way through a new piece she was learning more afternoons than he's ever napped on his current sofa. It's been recovered, but it's the same piece, because, when he runs his hand along the wooden arm rest, he can feel where Robyn scratched in an 'R' with a letter knife.

The brick wall opposite the windows is bare and exposed now, but there used to be a tapestry that, like the ones in the entry hall, have likely been removed for the sake of preservation. If they weren't thrown away or repurposed by the new family. They used to portray the bounties of the first Garden, every plant, and animal, every fruit and flower woven together in intricate, tiny detail. There had been black and red snake in the apple tree, and Hob had liked the little bugger immensely because he reminded Hob of his Stranger.

A furniture chest, what Hob would call a sideboard or a dish hutch today, stands against the bare brick. It's not the same one, that one had portraits of El's parents painted on the upper doors, but the style is similar enough that it's not distracting.

And at the other end of the solar, surrounded by massive potted ferns and an array of flowers that Hob had never paid much attention to, save for appreciating their perfume, is Eleanor's chair.

It's a grand, double-wide thing, with a matching footstool and only one arm, so El could play her lute comfortably without jamming her elbow against the side. He'd commissioned it specifically for this room and this purpose, having it covered in flaxen cloth-of-gold to match El's hair, and carved all over with little cherubs and their own heavenly instruments. It had been his wedding gift to her, and had lived first in the study, beside his desk, so they could spend their evenings together as he worked. But then he'd build this addition when he'd learned she was pregnant with Robyn, a thank you and a celebration, a little private Eden for Eve carrying Hob's new beginning, and new life.

And it's… it's all perfect.

Hob presses his hands against his chest, turning in circles to take everything in, emotion that he can't name pulling on his stomach and limbs like gravity. This place should be filled with laughter, and music, and sunlight. Instead the cool dark is as quiet as a tomb.

Hob gives into the pull of the earth and sinks onto El's foot stool, burying his face in the seat of the chair. She should be here. It should be her lap he rests his head on, like had so many evenings, where he'd perched on this exact same stool, back against her knees as she warbled in her thready, soft voice. Instead it's just fabric, and empty nothingness. Because his child killed her. His love killed her.

"Eleanor," Hob weeps, throat constricted. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you… or our son. Either of them… I'm so sorry I didn't protect him…"

"Hot mic?" someone says from the corner, behind the plants.

"No, I turned it off to change," Hob murmurs, and then realizes with a start that he's not alone after all. He jolts upright, wiping at his face. Makeup is going to scold him again. "Christ! I—sorry! I didn't see you there."

"That's fine," the voice says, barely more than a whisper. "I sneak up on most people."

A short, voluptuous woman that Hob charitably would call extremely beige, steps out of the shadows. Her hair is beige, styled in a stringy, unwashed bun. Her skin is beige, the kind of milk-pale White that humans get in northern Europe. She's wearing a set of boring beige overalls. The only color comes from the handful of embroidered throw pillows she's carrying.

Set dec, Hob's mind supplies. She's probably the one who left the door open. They're staging this space to film.

"I'm sorry, I should go," Hob says. "It's just that the door was open and I—"

"You can stay," the woman says, moving to distribute the pillows on the sofa. "They don't need you on set right now."

"I must look ridiculous," Hob says, "Sitting here in a costume, mourning a—" he swallows hard. "A woman I never met. I just… you know, being here, I really feel what Sir Gadlen must have—"

"It's fine," the woman says, and steps up beside him to deposit the last throw pillow onto El's chair. "Grief gets its hooks into you in weird ways. People try to avoid despair, but it can be good for you. Helps you get it all out. So you go ahead and cry."

Hob thinks she's going to pat his shoulder, but she ends up cupping the back on his neck. Her palm is cold, and a bit uncomfortably damp to be honest, the kindness in her touch as she grants him this permission is what undoes Hob.

He tips forward, forehead pressed against the seat of the chair, arms wrapped around his middle, and howls. 

He doesn't think he's cried this hard since Eleanor died, since her labors exhausted her, and even that challenging, stubborn spark that she'd always carried in her heart was extinguished. Since taking another breath became to taxing for her poor body, and as Hob petted her sweat-dampened hair back from her face, and kissed her temple, and told him how much he loved her, and begged her to just push, to just hold on, to just stay, please El, please, don't go, don't do this, don't leave me— Since poor wee John strangled in the womb, wrapped in his cord and stuck in his mother's body, dead before his first breath, went with her.

The set dec woman just crouches on the carpet beside him, rubbing his back soothingly, and making soft, encouraging sounds. She smelled revoltingly musky, which was the only thing that kept Hob for accepting the hug she was clearly offering. She'd probably spilled something on her overalls.

Hob sniffles and pulls a prop handkerchief from his sleeve to pat at his face. His head is throbbing, and he feels hollowed out.

But…but not in a bad way.

"Thank you," Hob says at length. "I think I… I really needed that."

"It was beautiful," the woman whispers.

Something in the way she says that is familiar.  

“I know you," Hob says, looking up at the woman blearily. "How do I know you?"

"We used to drink together," the woman replies. She smiles sideways, like the expression is uncomfortable on her face and wants to flee immediately. "Years and years ago."

"Oh," Hob says, and thinks, It must have been the early 90s, when I spent most of days fucked up on coke. She looks good for her age. But then again, so do I.

"Thank you—" he says again, but then her walkie crackles to life, and Celia's voice comes through.

"Anyone got eyes on Doc Bob?"

"Got him," the woman replies into the mic. Hob jumps to his feet, patting at his face with a prop handkerchief he hastily pulls from his sleeve. The woman shoos him toward the door. "He's traveling, landing in five."

Bob squeezes her shoulder in thanks and jogs over to the door between the solar and the study, letting himself in.

It's not until after the makeup assistant has fixed his face, and they're part way through filming a scene where Glenn—now playing the part of the steward that robbed him blind—that Hob realizes he didn't get his old drinking buddy's name.

When they wrap for the day, Hob looks around for the beige woman, but she's nowhere to be found.

*

Tuesday rolls around again, and Hob has to beg off his usual meeting with Morpheus to sleep on camera. Hob's already been filmed tossing and turning on the narrow cot in the printer's shop (a corner of another BBC production's period drama set, while they were off for lunch), and groaning with exhaustion in a fetid boarding house bunk (a hastily slapped together set of plyboard and just-dried paint that still smelled strongly when his nose was next to it).

Now they've retrofitted the actual bed that he used to share with Eleanor with a bunch of modern supports to prevent the ancient frame from cracking under his weight, and a modern mattress disguised to look like a feather tick.

On the floors below him, Harriet is making herself comfortable on a bedroll by the bread oven, which as a kitchen maid she has to keep hot and ready at all hours; Glenn is in the servant's wing, enjoying a bed with a frame at least, but he'll still have to be up at dawn to begin his duties; and the graveyard shift skeleton crew are luxuriating in their campervans on the front drive. Robert Gadlen the Third gets to sleep until he damn well feels like it. Hob, however, has an alarm set for 8:00am so he can pop out to one of the campervans for a shower before reporting to wardrobe and makeup to begin a new day.

At least this shot is easy. All Hob has to do is stand alone in the bedroom, look into the camera mounted in the corner, remove his wrapper and cap, say a few lines, and crawl into bed. They'll then film him sleeping, and speed up the footage in post to provide a timelapse of his comfortable, cozy night's rest to juxtapose it against Harriet's and Glenn's restless one.

Hob gets the go-ahead from the crew manning the monitors outside over the walkie on the mantelpiece out of frame, claps loudly so sound can get a speed count and level on the boom mic that's mounted beside the camera, and then steps into the shot. The camera's red light blinks once, twice, three times, then glows steadily.

"For the master of the Elizabethan Manor, staggering to bed drunk and sleeping late was only for Saturdays and special occasions," he says, doffing his cap and hanging it on a peg driven into one of the posts by the head of the bed. "If he was a good god-fearing protestant, it was early to bed, and early to rise. Sunday mornings saw him, and his family, off to church or face a stiff fine. Work days for the Lord ended around sunset, no matter what time of year it was, unless he literally wanted to burn the midnight oil getting his accounts and correspondence up to date."

They had filmed that bit earlier in the afternoon, so now Hob peels off his wrapper, leaving him in only a tired old knee-length night shirt and his leather house slippers. Wardrobe had offered him a vest or pajama pants to wear under it, but Hob was quite comfortable. He'd worn something like this to bed for hundreds of years.

"But this particular lord," he gestures at himself, "has had a long day hunting, and riding, and I'd like to not waste candles needlessly. So, I'm off to count sheep. Sweet dreams."

Hob sits down on the side of the bed, swings his legs around, and pulls the blanket up to his chin. And then he screws his eyes shut because he's already had one emotional breakdown today, and he's not keen to have another by thinking too hard about how the canopy of his old bed has not changed. 

"Clean take, Doc Bob," some AD or other says over the walkie talkie. "It's in the can. We're done."

"Sweet dreams," Hob calls back as a sign off.

"Same to you, Doc," the AD says, and the walkie goes quiet.

Hob peeks at the camera, with it's red eye. It's still recording as agreed, so Hob, exhausted and genuinely sleepy, sinks into the pillows and closes his eyes.

He dozes for a bit, and comes back to awareness in an exact replica of the room his sleeping body is currently in. It takes him a second to figure out what disturbed him, and then realizes it's the sink and shift of the mattress beside him. For a second, he's terrified that he's dreaming about Eleanor. That he's going to roll over and find her laying there, dead and horrid, half-decomposed and skull-grinning on her pillow.

But a gentle voice says, "No nightmare would dare."

Hob lets out a breath of relief, and wriggles onto his side to smile at Morpheus. He is laying down over the covers, head on the pillow, face-to-face with Hob.

Incoguously, there's a single flower laid on the blankets between them, a small white-and-yellow daffodil.

"Hello, stranger."

"Hello, Hob. This is not your bedroom."

"It used to be," he whispers. "I missed you these last few nights. What brings you here?"

"You," Morpheus says plainly. "It is Tuesday."

Hob laughs. "Well, yes, I do suppose it is. But as much fun as it may be, Morpheus, I'm not spooning you in my dead wife's bed."

"Spooning?"

Hob snorts. "You know, for a god of sleep who has probably either seen or crafted every wet dream that every teenaged boy has ever rued, you are a bit of a prude, my friend." It's easier to joke about it in the Dreaming, when he is asleep and the pain is safely tucked away in the Waking world.

"I know what spooning is," Morpheus says drily. "I was simply unaware that you desired it."

"Hey, you're the one who popped up here." He gestures at the Dreamscape of his old bedroom. "You know, We used to share the bed all the time," Hob says. "Even the queen slept with her lady's maid when they were here, did you know that? This sleeping alone lark is a relatively recent phenomenon for us humans."

Morpheus gifts him with one of those ridiculous self-satisfied, haughty smirks. "I'm unsure if you've been paying attention, my friend, but I am the god of sleep—"

"Oh, shut up," Hob sasses. "I'm supposed to be resting. You know what, I've changed my mind about the spooning. Either get out or c'mere and give me a cuddle."

Morpheus looks reluctant to take Hob's invitation as a serious one, which absolutely cannot be borne. The skinny bastard is still touch starved, no matter how much pre-scheduled hand-holding they do on any given Tuesday.

Hob reaches for Morpheus' shoulders, attempting to push him onto his other side and snug up behind him. Morpheus resists, clearly deciding that as a celestial deity, it's his right to be the big spoon. The daffodil ends up above their heads on the pillow as they wrestle playfully.

Hob, who secretly has no problems at all being cradled by his Stranger, eventually lets Morpheus win.

They settle that way, Morpheus' hand played against Hob's heart, and he's suddenly quite glad that his groin isn't pressed up against his friend's arse when a puff of Morpheu's breath against his nape gives Hob some terribly naughty ideas.

And some places that they touch that Hob is pretty sure a body can’t–Morpheus seems relaxed enough to loosen his hold on on his human-shaped corporation. There are extra limbs tangling sweetly with his feet, a dark mist spilling over his shoulder like heavy incense, tangible but foggily opaque, the glow of stars in Morpheus’ eyes reflecting back at Hob from the canopy of the bed. It’s sweet, that he feels safe enough around Hob to be himself.

"Hob Gadling," Morpheus says gently, "Are you well? Only your sleep has been tumultuous."

There's no point lying to Morpheus, especially here. "It's a lot. It's—" Hob starts, before interrupting himself with an unexpected hiccough of a sob. He's cried enough for today, though, so he swallows it back. "It's just so much harder than I thought it would be."

The confession shreds his throat. Shame crawls up his face, flushing his cheeks and making his ears tingle with the heat of the horrible blush. He curls in on himself, a miserable comma. Morpheus presses himself in one long line against Hob, probably trying to comfort but instead making Hob tense and hyperaware of every place that they touch.

"Hob…" Morpheus says again, worry tinging his voice. "I did not mean to push you into an situation that would cause distress."

"And you haven't!" Hob assures him. "At least not on purpose. I just… it's a lot, is all. I had a good cry today, and they’re right, you know. It does help with the–" he does the pulling-heart-out-of-chest-squish motion. “I hate every second of it, but I’m glad of it, you know? It’s good pain. It’s… pain I’ve put off feeling for too long. A goodbye that I’ve let linger for centuries.”

“Like a nightmare whose lesson you ignore, it will only continue to plague you until you listen,” Morpheus murmurs, and Hob can feel his lips movings against the collar of his nightshirt which is absolutely unfair.

“Yeah,” Hob agrees, swallowing hard and pretending that the dryness of his mouth is from the old building, and not his situation. “And I mean, I feel like I’ve been gutted, you know. All my insides scooped out. But that’s okay, because maybe it’s time for something new to take its place.”

You, Hob lets himself think, but doesn’t dare say out loud. I wouldn’t mind if the emptiness was filled with you.

Morpheus raises his free hand, and gestures into the air. Dream sand sparks into existence in an arc, but instead of falling onto them, it hovers there, swirling and pulsing. Like a snowglobe, the sand moves in the open space beside the bed, forming figures and landscapes.

"Shall I tell you a bedtime story to soothe you to a more peaceful slumber then, Hob Gadling?"

"Bedtime story?" Hob says, sitting up. "Wait, aren't I already asleep—"

The door to his chambers pushes open. Hob's sore and swollen heart leaps into his mouth at the noise.

"Bob?" Henrietta calls into the darkness. "Are you still awake? I was doing my video diary and I could hear your voice through the chimneys and I… what," she hisses, freezing a few steps inside with her eyes the size of saucers, "the absolute fuck."

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[gibson-g1rl]

Happy New Year Baby

Evan Peters x Fem Reader 

Warnings: None just good old fluff :)

Also, I live in South Africa so its summer round this time, hence why I used it in this fic ;) and also let's pretend alcohol isn't illegal on the beach lol!

You were in your room, placing pillows, blankets and more into a bag. You went downstairs and packed a few snacks into another. This was your first New Year’s Eve/New Year that you would be spending with Evan. 

Just as you gathered last of whatever you needed, your phone started to ring, it was Evan. You answered the phone and was met with a very happy sounding Evan telling you he was outside your apartment. 

You grabbed everything you packed and walked out of your apartment, locking the door and making sure your cat had food. 

You walked towards Evan’s car; he was standing against his car waiting for you. Once his eyes caught you approaching, his entire face lit up. 

“Hey baby, could you help me place these in the trunk please?” You said as you placed a sweet kiss against his cheek; before you could move away from him, he muttered, “Give me a proper kiss,” and grabbed your face and brought his lips to yours. You smiled as you leaned in, placing your lips onto his. Your mouths moved together as he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entry, which you denied as the two of you had to make it to the beach as soon as possible as traffic could be really hectic on New Year's Eve. 

You pulled away from his face and placed your finger onto his lips as he attempted to chase your lips with his own. 

“We can do that later Ev, we need to get to the beach.” You said as you checked your phone for the time, it was almost 23:30. 

Once the two of you packed everything in, you both got into his car and were making your way to the beach. The entire drive there, Evan held a firm grip on your thigh, often giving you little kisses when he would stop at a red light. 

The two of you reached the beach fairly quickly, finding a good spot despite the beach being kinda packed with people who also wanted to watch the fireworks. 

You packed out the blankets and multiple pillows onto the sand, making it comfy for the two of you. You packed out the snacks you brought with and so did Evan. 

Once you both were satisfied with your little set up, you placed yourself between Evan’s legs, your back against his chest as you looked up at him, the two of you patiently waiting for the countdown to begin. The two of you exchanged meaningless chatter as you basked in the moonlight. The cool summer breeze surrounding you both. Your eyes met his as you tilted your head up, Evan’s one hand on your cheek and the other on your thigh, leaving small caresses in his wake. 

You just stared at him, taking in his beauty as the moon light reflected off his features, the distant music of other people on the beach adding to the ambiance of the evening. 

“What?” He said with a smile as he caught you staring for quite some time.

“Nothin’ you’re just beautiful.” Evan smiled at your compliment, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink, you loved when you made him blush. 

He slowly leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to your lips, and once the two of you pulled apart you both realized the countdown had started. 

You grabbed the champagne glasses you had brought along as Evan popped the bottle, filling both of your glasses with the bubbly liquid. 

‘5...4...3...2...1...’

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” You heard from all around as you and Evan clinked your glasses. 

Evan moved closer to you as he lifted his one hand and placed it on your cheek, placing his soft lips onto yours. The two of you kissed slowly as cheer erupted all around, the chatter getting louder, the music too and the fireworks continuing to explode in the sky. 

You opened up your mouth, inviting your lovers tongue in. The two of you made out sensually, no neediness, no roughness just love. 

The two of you finally pulled apart, your foreheads touching as you stared into each other's eyes. 

“Happy New Year baby can’t wait to see what the new year has in store for us, I love you so much and God am I glad we met. Couldn’t have done that last year without you baby.” You smiled at his confession, placing your glass onto the sand so you could place both your hands onto his face. 

“Happy New Year Ev, I love you more than life itself and may the new year treat you the way you deserve, filled with kindness, love and blessings. I LOVE YOU BABY!” You said as you smooshed your lips against his, causing the both of you to come crashing down onto the sand. 

The two of you erupted in laughter as you placed your head on your lover's chest and watched the fireworks, wondering how you got so lucky with him. 

.........

taglist: @v-love @laynna-mcknight @demxnicprxncess @hxney-lemcn @yes-divine-ruler @evanpetersfav @soaringcloud

let me know if I forgot anyone :)

Hope you enjoyed this little fic :)

[razorblade180]

Okay

Paper

Rock

Scara:You have to be cheating.

Nahida:It’s just probability. My turn. Do you despise me?

Scara:I’m trapped in here because of you.

Nahida:That’s not an answer.

Scara:Personally, I find you annoying. Despise is a strong word. I wouldn’t say it about who you are, but what you are.

Nahida:I can understand that.

Paper!

Rock!

Scara:Shit…

Nahida:Language, and please don’t pick rock next time.

Scara:You’re playing mind games…

Nahida:Do you hate Inazuma?

Scara:I don’t care for it. They haven’t done me any acts of kindness like Sumeru hasn’t for you.

Nahida:I love it here.

Scara:Only cause you don’t know anywhere else.

Nahida:…I don’t think that’s the reason.

Scissors!

Rock!

Nahida:…

Scara:How’s it feel knowing after being freed you’re still worlds apart from your people?

Nahida:It’s an adjustment period for everyone.

Scara:They are disappointed by you and the ones that aren’t wouldn’t dare put you in the same boat as them. Being lonely has to feel miserable when there’s people around.

Nahida:You don’t get two questions.

Paper

Scissors

Scara:I do know.

Nahida:It’s not loneliness I feel. Everything is awkward but that will fade in time.

Scara:Or so you hope.

Paper

Paper

Rock

Paper

Scara:You thought everything would be fine outside the cage but now you feel foolish. It’s harder than ever isn’t?

Nahida:Coarse sand had to go through rough winds to be what it is. I would never choose to go back in that cage.

Scara:S-

Nahida:No more follow up remarks.

Paper

Rock

Nahida:….Why won’t you let me help you?

Scara:Because Buer, there’s nothing to help. All you’re doing prolonging the obvious choice you should be making.

Nahida:*stands up* So you just want to die!?

Scara:Your not following the rules-

Nahida:You’re life isn’t a game!

Scara:…Since when? Hehehe *stands up* it’s always been one big “what-if” just like yours. What if we tried giving a puppet a gnosis? Oops, didn’t work, oh well. Oh what would it do if it was a harbinger? Not much, oh well. How about if it did get a gnosis again? No dice? Back to the drawing board! Hahaha, here’s an idea, what if you played silly games with it in hopes of it wanting to stick around a lonely child!? Guess what? It’s not going to happen!

Nahida:….

Scara:Stop dreaming and wake up. Reality doesn’t care about what you want. Just what you can do for it.

Nahida:…I refuse to see it that way. Any lows has highs.

Scara:And that’s why you’re a fool Buer! This world-

Nahida:Why do you even care?

Scara:What?

Nahida:You heard me. *tears up* Why do you care so much that I have hope for the better, huh!?

Scara:….

Nahida:This is what you wanted right, to see me sad and angry? Congratulations, now why!? You got it. What did you gain Scaramouche, satisfaction? There’s no benefit to me hating you; wanting to kill you. I don’t want that! Why would you!? Life is valuable because it simply is and you act like you don’t know when for 500 years you did nothing but try to live!

Scara:For a purpose taken away!

Nahida:IT WAS NEVER YOUR PURPOSE!

Scara:….

Nahida:It couldn’t be your purpose if that’s not where your life ultimately leads and ends. It was an idea and some ideas fail. I was deemed a failure, but I’m still here. You’re still here! So what if I’m the Archon now? I’m nothing anyone hoped I would be. It’s not even my dream. Yes I want to help, but I friends and experiences. I want to be your friend! We’re both so simil-

Scara:*trembling*….What?

Nahida:One more round.

Scara:You can’t be seri-

Nahida:Then humor me.

……..

Paper

Rock

Scara:……

Nahida:You rather me destroy you because it’s too scary to think I’m right when we’re this similar.

Scara:You can’t be right. I know you’re not right! If you’re right then what the hell did I miss for 500 years!? Well!? *tears up* How do you get mistreated since the day you were born and still get to have hope, that it all starts working out!? No! You should angry! Bitter! Why are you still so nice!? What are seeing that I don’t!? If things went well for you THEN WHAT DID I LACK!? ANSWER ME BUER! HOW ARE YOU OKAY WHEN IM IN PIECES!?

His eyes begged for an answer, a genuine answer to a question he could not fathom looking at her. Overwhelmed, Nahida threw herself into Scaramouche, knocking him over as she hugged him so tightly her body trembled.

Nahida:Hope was the only thing in that cage. If I let it go…then it would’ve been so dark, so lonely. I’m not okay with it all Scaramouche. The world hurts, and I still feel alone, but I’m not in that cage; and you’re still not dead. So I’ll keep clinging to hope, rational or not, because even the pain I feel today are steps better than the struggles of yesterday. So can you please stop saying I should kill you. I finally found someone in the dark. I don’t wanna let you go. Don’t you understand? Neither of us are alone anymore.

She was crying. The God of Wisdom was crying her eyes out on top of Scaramouche, a puppet, discarded for the very thing she was doing. Something in him stirred, knotting up and aching as tears poured from his face. Truly, she was too similar, yet now…Scaramouche clung to that, keeping it close. As they just sat there in the dark.