#my instinct is to be frustrated about certain ways he acted but then i have to slow down and be like wait though.

[pascaloverx]

HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future.

PREVIEW TWO

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

ONE

The tension in your hospital room is palpable, Detective Lois and Dr. Mayhew locking eyes as if each were ready to strike. You’re bewildered, unsure of whom or what to believe. But one thing is clear: Dr. Mayhew is your husband. He appears to be the quickest path to recovering your memory—even though Lois seems convinced he’s the reason you’re in this condition.

“Detective Tryon, as eager as you are to drag a statement out of my wife, she’ll be of no use to your scheme of blaming me for your incompetence,” Dr. Mayhew says, running a hand through his hair with a clear hint of tension. “She remembers nothing, and your persistence will only confuse her further.” He sighs heavily, while Lois watches him with a mocking smile, as if her patience has completely worn thin.

“Your performance is so convincing. You must have taken acting lessons at some point in your life,” she says, stepping toward him with a threatening air. “I can’t allow you to harm this woman before she has the chance to tell the world who you really are.”

“Enough!” you exclaim, frustrated by their bickering. Both turn to you, their expressions shifting to something like concern. “Detective Tryon, I appreciate your efforts to keep me safe. But if this man truly is my husband, that must mean something,” you say, almost on instinct. Perhaps you’re being foolish, even hasty. But there has to be something to this. Taking a risk is all you have left—now that you don’t even belong to yourself.

"Are you really willing to risk your life to be near this man, Y/N?" Detective Tryon holds your arm, her grip nearly desperate, as though trying to pull you away from Dr. Mayhew. The force of it makes you uncomfortable, and you wince, letting out a low sound of pain.

“Release my wife, Detective,” Dr. Mayhew snaps, his tone finally sharpened, his calm composure cracking. “I remind you that if we report your misconduct to your superiors, your entire baseless case will fall apart.” He steps between you and Lois, his hands slipping into his lab coat pockets, the stance a clear challenge.

"What would truly please you, right?" Lois challenges, staring straight into Dr. Mayhew's eyes. You watch them silently, still feeling the ache in your arm where Lois had grabbed you.

"Would you like to know what would actually please me?" Dr. Mayhew whispers, moving closer to Lois. "I’d be pleased to have my wife with me again, without the interference of a lunatic so obsessed with her own failures that she needs to ruin my life just to sleep at night. Careful, Lois. You’re becoming obsessed with me." You're uncertain of his intentions, but the authoritative tone in his voice and the way he carries himself is undeniably alluring.

Lois narrows her eyes, her expression darkening as Dr. Mayhew moves closer, his tone laced with mockery and barely concealed venom. “Is that so, Dr. Mayhew? Obsession, you call it?” she scoffs, a bitter smile playing on her lips. “Let’s not confuse dedication to justice with obsession. But perhaps you’re simply too accustomed to manipulating the truth to recognize it when you see it.”

You watch the exchange, torn between skepticism and an undeniable draw toward him. Despite the sharp edge in his words, the way Dr. Mayhew stands his ground, unyielding and unafraid, stirs something within you. Even as his gaze shifts to meet yours, there’s an intensity there that unsettles yet captivates you—a magnetic pull that defies reason.

“Why not focus on your own affairs, Detective,” he murmurs, his eyes still on you, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, “and let my wife and I… reconnect. Unless, of course, you’ve truly no other purpose in your life than meddling in mine.”

Your confidence is remarkable, Charlie," Lois remarks. "Mrs. Mayhew, if you need me for any reason, here’s my number. I’ll also be visiting again soon to see if there’s been any progress in your memory recovery." She hands you a card with her contact information, then smirks mockingly at Dr. Mayhew. "And don’t worry, Charlie, I’ll let Megan know you’ll be unavailable." With that, she finally exits your hospital room.

Charlie stares at you, irritation burning in his gaze. "Do you believe her?" Dr. Mayhew demands, advancing toward you with sudden intensity. You feel as if the air is being drawn from your lungs with his nearness, his gaze piercing. "Honestly, I don’t know whom to believe," you murmur, leaning back against the hospital bed behind you, your eyes locked onto his.

"Fine!" he exclaims, voice laced with indignation. He turns to leave, but then hesitates, his hand lingering on the door frame as if torn between staying and leaving. After a tense pause, he steps back inside, his tone shifting from anger to something raw and vulnerable.

"Y/N… if you can’t trust me, then at least remember what we once were. Remember the promises we made." His voice drops to a murmur, almost pleading. "I’m not the monster she’s painting me to be." The intensity in his words sends a shiver down your spine, leaving you more conflicted than ever as he finally, reluctantly, exits the room. What makes it all worse is that neither of them is truly thinking about you. Neither one noticed that you’ve only just discovered your own name, that you're lost and confused. They don’t see that you don’t want to be manipulated—you want to be understood.

“You are like him…” you murmur, recognizing that you’re no longer in your hospital room. Everything around you is intensely white—the walls, the bed you're seated on, every corner spotless and untouched. A cross hangs on the wall behind the priest, casting a shadow that flickers slightly, as if from candlelight. The room feels steeped in something sacred, almost otherworldly, like a faint echo of a memory stirring within you. The priest looks at you with a serene expression, though there’s an unmistakable weight behind his gaze. As he steps closer, the almost sacred atmosphere around you amplifies the tension. You try to process the overwhelming resemblance to Dr. Mayhew—even the contours of his face are identical, but the priest’s shorter, more traditional hairstyle highlights the difference. Your mind wavers between doubt and recognition, as if your subconscious is trying to unveil something long forgotten.

“You keep searching for answers outside yourself, yet everything you need lies within,” he murmurs, his deep voice echoing through the room like a quiet revelation.

“Father, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, what to feel,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you meet his gaze. Tears slip down your cheeks, and a quiet, aching desperation fills the space between you. The priest, unmoved yet tender, holds your gaze.

“Faith moves mountains, and as long as it resides within you, you will be safe,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle command that resonates deeply. “Find your faith, and you will know what—and whom—to believe.”

Despite the haziness, a strange comfort wraps around your heart, soft yet unexplainable. His words, laced with a familiar warmth, guide you into a calm acceptance, though the reason remains unknown. Then, leaning closer, he whispers in your ear, “Now, kneel and seek forgiveness.” Almost instinctively, you find yourself on your knees before him, grasping the folds of his robe at his knees, your head bowed as though in reverence.

“Father, forgive me,” you whisper, your head bowed. His fingers lift your chin gently, compelling you to meet his gaze. “How can I grant you absolution, when your hands are stained with blood, my sweet sinner?” he murmurs, lowering his face near yours, his breath warm against your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

You’re shocked, frozen beneath his intense gaze, but unable to break away. As you glance down, horror floods your senses—you see your hands smeared with blood. Stumbling backward, you gasp, eyes wide in disbelief. The priest rises from the bed, stepping slowly toward you with an unwavering gaze, a faint trail of blood marking his face. You’re overwhelmed with fear, a scream building in your throat until it finally erupts, piercing the silence. And then—just like that—you awaken from your haunting dream, heart racing, as the unsettling remnants of the nightmare fade into the dim light of your hospital room.

Dr. Mayhew, startled awake in the chair beside your bed, immediately reaches for you. “Hey, Y/N, are you alright?” he asks, his voice filled with concern as he stands and wraps you in a firm embrace. His arms encircle you with a warmth that feels protective, grounding you in the present moment, as if he’s trying to shield you from whatever haunted you.

“I… I had a nightmare,” you whisper once you catch your breath, the tension beginning to ease as you lean into his hold. And everything feels like déjà vu. Just like before, you wake from a nightmare involving the priest, and once again, Dr. Mayhew is by your side. You can't help but wonder if there’s a connection between his presence and the terrifying, bloody dreams that haunt you each night.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Dr. Mayhew murmurs softly, his hand tracing gentle circles on your back, his touch soothing. The warmth of his embrace gives you an unexpected feeling of lightness, as though he’s holding you together amidst the lingering fragments of your nightmare.

“Can we leave this place?” you ask, your voice trembling as you try to stifle the tears that have flowed since you woke. He holds you a little closer, and you feel a subtle tension in his grip, as if considering your question carefully.

“We will, soon,” he assures, his tone steady, though a flicker of something unreadable passes over his face. “For now, rest. I’ll be here.”

"Stay here; I need you to answer me—while looking into my eyes," you insist, tugging at Dr. Mayhew's clothes, almost dislodging his tie. Though he’d intended to return to the hospital chair, he remains by your side, his gaze steady yet guarded.

“Will you even believe my answer?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a hint of doubt, as though unsure anything he says would hold weight with you. His eyes search yours, wary yet attentive, as if weighing what he’s willing to reveal.

"You'll have to take the risk and believe that I will," you say softly, though you're unsure if you can truly trust anything he says. Dr. Mayhew's hand reaches gently to touch your face, but you instinctively pull back, murmuring, "I’m sorry."

“Ask me whatever you wish, Y/N,” he says, his voice tinged with impatience, perhaps confused by your conflicting actions—clinging to him, pulling him closer, yet retreating from his touch. You, too, are struggling to understand what you’re feeling, torn between wanting him near and pushing him away.

“Do you love me?” you ask, your gaze unwavering, trying to find answers in the depths of his eyes. His stare holds yours, as if the question should be irrelevant, as if he has already shown you everything you need to know. His expression softens, but the weight of his response carries something more.

"I’m your husband, Y/N," he replies, his voice steady, but there's an intensity in his eyes, a depth of meaning that you can’t ignore. "Doesn't that answer everything?" His words hang in the air, thick with unspoken emotion, and for a moment, you wonder if the truth lies somewhere in the space between his claims and the confusion that churns in your heart.

"Answer me, Dr. Mayhew, do you love me?" you ask, using a more assertive tone, making it clear that you are not satisfied with his previous answer. He smiles, as if he can't believe it. "I love you, Mrs. Mayhew. I would die for you if necessary," he responds confidently. His eyes are fixed on you, as if waiting for something.

"Then even if the truth disappoints me. Even if you think it's going to hurt me, I need you to be honest. About these murders, about Megan, about everything." You speak firmly, staring into his eyes.

Dr. Mayhew's expression hardens as you mention the two things he surely wishes you would forget. For a moment, he looks at the hospital room wall without saying anything. "Honesty is a double-edged sword. As you inflict it on someone, someone can inflict it on you," his gaze darkens, his demeanor heavy, almost demonic. "If honesty is what you want; honesty is all you'll get."

He stands up, lifting his face to yours, now standing directly in front of you. "You think the truth will set you free, but sometimes it only binds you to something far worse," Dr. Mayhew says, so close to your face it feels as though he's about to kiss you. His words are heavy, yet his gaze is devilishly captivating. For a moment, you sense that he's savoring the expression of fear in your eyes. "Then let the truth bind us both, if that's what we deserve," you reply, challenging him, even though a part of you trembles with fear.

He straightens his coat, his hand running through his hair with a sharp, almost angry gesture, as though attempting to pull himself together. "Rest, Y/N. The truth will find its way to you, sooner or later. But I can promise you this: I am, and will always be, honest with the woman I love—even if she doubts me." With those words, Dr. Mayhew places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a gesture of tenderness. Then, without another word, he exits your hospital room, leaving you in a heavy silence.

[tyvnzz]

synopsis: You and kai have been crushing on each other, but both are too scared to act on it. Luckily, your friends are determined to help push you out of your comfort zones and make sure love finds a way!

warnings: nothing bad just pure fluff

word count: 3.7k

pairings: hueningkai x reader

You remember the first time you met Kai. He was truly the sweetest person you’ve met. From that moment, you were helplessly captivated by him. Every smile, every gentle touch, every lingering look he sent your way had you wrapped around his finger. It was almost embarrassing how easily he could pull you in, but there was just something about him—so effortlessly endearing, so impossibly cute.

It was no wonder you couldn’t resist developing a crush on him. You found yourself daydreaming about what it would be like to actually date him, imagining the warmth and joy he’d bring to your life. God, it would be a dream.

What you didn’t realize was that he felt the same way. Hueningkai having his first crush. And he wasn’t exactly subtle. Always right by your side, ‘following you around like a lost puppy’ his friends always say. And maybe they were right. He couldn’t help himself—you were just so perfect to him.

It was great that you both had a crush on each other—really, it was! The only problem? Well...

“You guys are such pussies, seriously,” Yuqi huffed, crossing her arms. “Yuqi, come on! Don’t say that!” you whined, though you couldn’t exactly argue with her.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not wrong. Both of you are so obviously into each other, but you’re too scared to confess. It’s painful, honestly. Watching you two circle each other like lost puppies pretending you don’t care? Sickening.”

“I know he likes me, Yuqi!” you snapped, frustration lacing your tone. “It’s just that I’m…”

“A pussy?” she interjected, one eyebrow raised. “Scared is what I was going to say,” you mumbled, cheeks burning.

“Mhm, right,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Before she could launch into another one of her rants, you noticed him entering the room.

Your breath hitched. There he was, looking as effortlessly good as ever, his hair slightly messy like he’d just run his hands through it. He glanced around casually, but the second his eyes landed on you, they lingered just a moment too long. A small, nervous smile tugged at his lips, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Yuqi didn’t miss a thing. “Oh my God,” she muttered under her breath, following your line of sight. “He’s right there. Go talk to him!”

“What? No way!” you hissed, instinctively shrinking into your seat.

“Yes way!” she insisted, nudging you hard enough to almost send you flying out of your chair.

“Yuqi, stop!” you whisper-yelled, panic flooding your voice. But of course, your little commotion had already drawn his attention. He raised an eyebrow and started walking toward you. Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

“Hi,” he said, his voice soft and unsure, as if he was just as nervous as you were. You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a strangled, “H-hey.”

You’d never felt this hot before, your skin practically burning with embarrassment. You were certain you were red from head to toe.

“So, uh, are we still on for today’s study session?” he asked, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in that endearingly nervous way he always did. God you loved when he did that. He’s too cute.

“I-I—yeah! Of course!” you stammered, your cheeks heating up instantly as you tried not to look like a complete mess.

“Great! So, I’ll see you at 3?” he asked, his smile warm and a little shy.

“Yep,” you replied, forcing yourself to smile through the whirlwind of nerves.

“Alright, see you then,” he said, giving you a quick wave before heading off to join his friends.

The moment he was out of earshot, Yuqi let out an exaggerated groan, throwing her head back dramatically. “That was painful to watch,” she muttered, rubbing her temples like she had a headache.

“Oh, shut up, Yuqi,” you shot back, your face still burning.

You’d definitely be punching Yuqi later.

Soon enough, it was 4 o'clock. Had time sped up, or were you going crazy? You couldn't tell. Sitting alone at the empty table in the library, you waited patiently for Kai, your mind wandering back to what Yuqi had said. Sure, you knew Kai liked you—he wasn’t exactly subtle about it. But for some reason, you were nervous. And it wasn’t because you doubted his feelings; you were certain he liked you back. So… why were you so scared?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the library door. Looking up, you saw Kai’s head peeking around, searching the room until his eyes landed on you. His face brightened immediately, and he made his way over with that familiar, shy smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“H-Hey! Sorry I’m a little late,” he said, plopping his bag down on the table. “I had to stay back and talk to Mrs. Park. You know how she is…” He rolled his eyes, looking genuinely annoyed.

“Oh God, not Mrs. Park!” you said, covering your mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Right? She’s such a… ugh, you know!” He crossed his arms with a huff. “She seriously has it out for me, I’m telling you!”

You laughed. “Kai, you know you can just call her a bitch, right? She’s not listening.”

He grinned, shaking his head. “I’m serious! She’s been out to get me since day one. I’m really gonna… I dunno… beat her up or something!”

“Beat her up?” you snorted, dissolving into laughter. “Kai, you couldn’t even kill a fly, come on!” You leaned forward, still laughing, and without realizing it, you rested against his arm.

Kai froze. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud he was sure you could hear it. Holy shit. This was the closest you’d ever been to him, leaning on him like this. It felt surreal, like he was in some kind of dream.

“Oh god! I can’t breathe, seriously!” you gasped, wiping a tear from your eye as you tried to regain your composure.

Kai managed a shaky smile, his voice softer than usual. “Glad to know I’m that funny.”

You glanced up at him, still grinning, and for a moment, you both just… looked at each other. There was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart skip. The laughter died down, and suddenly, the room felt quieter, the distance between you both smaller.

He cleared his throat, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh this hard before.”

You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “Guess you bring out the best in me,” you replied softly, the words spilling out before you had a chance to think them through.

Kai’s eyes widened slightly, but his face broke into a gentle, almost shy smile. “Yeah? ‘Cause… you do the same to me.”

A flutter of excitement surged through you, your breath catching as his words hung in the air. Neither of you moved, both caught in the moment, waiting for the other to make the first move.

You could feel your heart pounding as the space between you seemed to shrink, his face just inches from yours. Oh my god, you thought, are we actually going to kiss?

His gaze flickered down to your lips, and you held your breath, not daring to move. Every nerve in your body was on edge, and the world around you faded away until it was just the two of you in this perfect moment.

“___!! I HAVE GOOD NEWS!” a voice screamed, cutting through the quiet library.

You can’t be serious…

You and Kai immediately pulled apart, the warmth of the moment shattering as you both scrambled to regain your composure. The voice grew louder, its owner clearly determined to announce whatever good news they had.

“YOU WON’T BELIEVE— Oh…” Yuqi’s voice trailed off as she stopped in her tracks, eyes widening slightly when she noticed how you and Kai both looked a little flushed.

A mischievous smile spread across her face as she leaned against the bookshelf, clearly connecting the dots. “Did I interrupt something?” she asked, her tone teasing.

You and Kai exchanged an awkward glance, both of you silently willing her to just let it go.

Now you had an even better reason to punch Yuqi.

“YOU CAN’T KEEP AVOIDING HIM!” Yuqi shouted, her hands firmly planted on her hips as she glared down at you sprawled across your bed.

Ever since she’d interrupted your close-kiss with Kai, the two of you had been doing everything possible to avoid each other. The second you caught sight of his familiar black hair or his tall frame, you’d turn and head in the opposite direction. And Kai? Anytime he heard your sweet laugh or spotted your smile across the hallway, he’d retreat just as fast. But despite the avoidance, you couldn’t get him out of your head. The way he’d looked at you in that moment.. It was burned into your memory.

“I can too,” you muttered, burying your face in a pillow. Then, with a pointed look, you added, “And don’t think you’re off the hook. I still have to punch you for interrupting our study session.”

“Study session?” she snorted, raising an eyebrow. “You sure it wasn’t about to turn into a makeout session?”

You shot her a glare before turning back to the textbooks scattered across your bed, pretending to be deeply engrossed in them.

“Listen,” Yuqi said, her tone softening just a little, “all I’m saying is that you can’t avoid him forever. At some point, you’re going to have to talk to him.”

“Yuqi…” you groaned, dragging her name out in frustration.

“Fine, fine,” she huffed, throwing her hands up in defeat. “But if you won’t do anything about this, then I will.”

Before you could even process what she meant, she spun on her heel and marched out of your room, slamming the door shut behind her.

You stared after her, blinking. “Yeah, right. What’s she gonna do?” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head as you turned back to your books.

But the uneasy feeling in your gut told you that when it came to Yuqi, you should never underestimate her.

But you brushed that uneasy feeling aside, as the next morning came. Going about your day as usual. And by lunchtime, everything still felt normal—or so you thought.

Walking into the cafeteria, you quickly spotted Yuqi waving from her usual spot. With a small sigh of relief, you made your way over and sat across from her.

She was giggling at something on her phone, her shoulders shaking as her fingers flew over the screen.

“Texting that guy from chem class?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her head snapped up, and in one swift motion, she locked her phone and flipped it face down on the table. “What guy?” she asked, a little too quickly.

You squinted at her. That was weird—Yuqi was never secretive about her phone.

“You know who I’m talking about! The guy you’re always staring at instead of taking notes,” you teased, a sly grin forming on your lips.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she crossed her arms defensively. “I don’t stare at anyone,” she huffed, though the way her eyes darted to the side said otherwise.

“Sure, sure,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “Whatever you say, Yuqi.”

But something about her sudden change in demeanor stuck in the back of your mind. Maybe she was hiding something... or someone.

“Hey, hey! I’m serious!” she pouted, puffing out her cheeks.

“Mhm, right…” you replied, smirking as you took a bite of your food.

“And you shouldn’t be talking anyway! Always avoiding Kai…” she shot back, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s different! So it doesn’t count,” you huffed, crossing your arms defensively.

“Oh really?” Yuqi smirked, leaning in closer. “Are you still mad I interrupted your makeout session?”

“Study session,” you corrected firmly, your cheeks heating up. “We were studying, not making out.”

“Mhm, right…” she drawled, clearly unconvinced, her smirk widening.

You shot her a glare. “Don’t make me punch you again.”

“Anyways,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I actually have something I wanna ask you.”

“Go on,” you prompted, raising an eyebrow at her sudden change in tone.

“Your teacher isn’t here today, right?”

“Which one?”

“Your lit teacher. You know, the bald one.”

“Yeah, he’s not here. Why?”

“Nothing! Just curious,” she said with an overly sweet smile.

Before you could press further, her phone buzzed against the table. She quickly picked it up, her face lighting up as she read the message.

You watched her, narrowing your eyes. Yuqi was definitely up to something, but what?

With the day finally ending, you couldn’t wait to get home and throw yourself onto your bed, and do absolutely nothing. With no homework assigned, the thought of sleeping the rest of the day off felt like a rare, well-earned reward.

As the final bell rang, you finished scribbling the last of your notes and slid them into your notebook. After packing everything into your backpack, you slung it over your shoulder and headed out of the classroom.

Walking down the hall, you paused when you heard a faint creak coming from up ahead. It was quiet, but just loud enough to catch your attention.

Curious, you made your way toward the sound, stopping in front of a classroom with its door slightly ajar. You peeked inside, but all you could see was darkness.

Before you could pull away, you were suddenly shoved into the dark room. A faint ‘click’ echoed in the silence as the door slammed shut behind you.

Panicking, you rushed to the door, desperately jingling the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked…

“Hello?” a quiet voice called out from the shadows.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. Who else was in here?

“Is anyone there?” the voice asked again.

Wait… was that–

“Kai? Is that you?”

You fumbled along the wall, your hands brushing against the cold surface until, finally, your fingers brushed over the light switch. With a quick flick, the lights buzzed to life, revealing Kai standing on the opposite side of the room.

“Kai? What are you doing here?” you asked, still trying to process the situation.

“I-I was, uh, trying to find Yuqi's purse…” he stammered, his voice trailing off awkwardly.

You blinked, confused. What?

“Kai… Yuqi hates purses,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh,” he replied, his face turning a shade of red as he scratched the back of his neck.

You stared at Kai for a moment, trying to piece things together. The more you thought about it, the more everything seemed… off. Something didn’t add up.

Yuqi hated purses, so why on earth would Kai be looking for one? And then there was the fact that you both ended up locked in this room.

Suddenly, it hit you.

"Wait a minute..." you muttered under your breath.

Kai’s eyes widened, and he quickly glanced around the room, clearly nervous. “What? What is it?”

"You and I," you said slowly, piecing it together, "we’ve been avoiding each other for weeks, and now, somehow, we’re both stuck in here. And—" You paused, turning the situation over in your mind. "Yuqi and the others… they planned this, didn’t they?"

Kai blinked, clearly confused for a moment, but as realization set in, his face fell. "Oh, no," he groaned, his head sinking into his hands. "They set us up, didn’t they?"

You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the whole situation was. "I think our friends just wanted to see us finally admit we’re both idiots who’ve been avoiding each other for no reason."

Kai let out a deep sigh, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "Guess we really are idiots," he said quietly. "And now, we’re stuck in here."

You smiled back, the tension between you easing slightly. "Guess we are," you agreed. "So... what now?"

“Maybe we could find a key somewhere?” he suggested, scanning the room with a hopeful glance.

“Won’t work,” you replied, shaking your head. “Only teachers have keys to these rooms, and they’ve probably left by now.”

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated.

You watched as Kai continued to look around, his mind racing for a way out. The tension between you two was notable, but it was hard to ignore the fact that you were stuck together—probably for longer than either of you had expected.

For some reason, your mind kept circling back to what Yuqi had said the night before:

“Listen, all I’m saying is that you can’t avoid him forever. At some point, you’re going to have to talk to him.”

She was right. As much as you hated to admit it, Yuqi had proven her point. Avoiding Kai wasn’t working. Hiding your feelings wasn’t working. Eventually, he was going to find out, one way or another.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you glanced over at Kai. He was sitting on one of the stools, his expression still etched with frustration as he tried to come to terms with the fact that you were both stuck here.

“Kai,” you said softly.

“Yeah?” He looked up, his brows furrowing slightly as his dark eyes met yours.

You stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest until you were standing directly in front of him. Before you could overthink it, you reached out, gently taking both of his hands in yours, your fingers intertwining with his.

“Kai…” You paused for a moment, searching his face as you tried to find the right words. “Ever since I met you…I’ve felt something—something I couldn’t explain at first,” you admitted, your voice soft but steady. “But the more time I spent with you, the clearer it became. You make me feel… safe, happy, and like I can be myself.”

Kai’s eyes widened slightly, and you could feel his hands tense in yours, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he held on tighter, as if grounding himself in the moment.

“I tried to ignore it,” you continued, letting out a small, nervous laugh. “Tried convincing myself it was just a crush, something that would pass, but it hasn’t. And avoiding you? That just made everything worse.” You took another deep breath, your gaze locked on his. “I like you, Kai. A lot. And I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”

Kai was silent for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining any of this. Slowly, a smile began to spread across his face, soft and genuine.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, Kai gently tugged you closer, his forehead resting against yours. “I like you too. So much, it’s been driving me crazy. But I didn’t think you felt the same…”

“Well,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as your nerves started to melt away. “I guess we’re both idiots, huh?”

Kai chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “Yeah, but at least we’re idiots together.”

The space between you seemed to shrink, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours—soft, warm, and everything you’d been hoping for. The kiss was slow and sweet, carrying all the emotions you’d both been holding back for so long.

When you finally pulled away, you both let out quiet laughs, still holding each other close.

“So… being stuck in here wasn’t so bad after all,” Kai teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah” you said, though you couldn’t help the smile that lingered on your face.

“Good,” he said, his fingers gently intertwining with yours as all of you walked out of the room together.

You both stayed locked in each other’s gaze, the silence stretching between you until Kai finally broke it.

“C-Can I kiss you again?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t even have to ask,” you replied, a soft smile spreading across your face.

Kai leaned in, his hands gently tightening around yours, but just as his lips were about to meet yours again, the door flew open with a loud bang.

“___? KAI? ARE YOU GUYS—OH MY GOD!” Yuqi’s voice pierced through the air as the door swung open.

You and Kai jumped apart, your faces both heating up as Yuqi and his friends spilled into the room.

“FINALLY!” Beomgyu shouted, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. “I couldn’t take watching you two avoid each other anymore!”

“Or acting like lovesick puppies around each other,” Taehyun added with a smirk, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the doorframe.

Your eyes darted between them, your suspicion confirmed. “I *knew* you guys planned this,” you said, narrowing your eyes at Yuqi, who was grinning like she’d just won the lottery.

“Well, duh,” Yuqi said with zero remorse. “You two were hopeless. Someone had to step in!”

Kai let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “So… this was all part of some big scheme, huh?”

“Obviously,” Beomgyu said, grinning. “And judging by those red faces, we nailed it.”

“Red? Who’s red? I’m not red,” you said quickly, fanning your face as if that would help.

“Oh, you’re red,” Taehyun chimed in, smirking. “But hey, you’re welcome. Now you two can stop being awkward and just… be together already.”

Kai glanced at you, his shy smile growing as his fingers brushed yours. “Well,” he said softly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear, “I guess we owe them a thank you… right?”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave you away. “Maybe. But don’t let it go to your heads,” you shot back, glaring playfully at Yuqi and the others.

“Too late!” Yuqi said, cackling as she threw her arm around Beomgyu’s shoulder.

As the group began to leave the room, laughing and teasing you both, Kai leaned in close, his voice warm and full of affection. “So, does this mean we’re official?”

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat. “Yeah, it does,” you said, smiling.

[scandistar]

Lin was more than certain that Rolan felt differently about her after she had nearly killed him.

(This is mostly speculative, as I don't have a concrete plan for the fic yet. Might implement this, though)

Rolan had thrown the man out of the Sundries, but instead of staying frozen in fear, Lin rushed out after the intruder, now bearing both her handaxes. She was prepared to kill him once and for all - he would no longer be alive to hurt anyone like he once hurt her. Like he once broke her. Her mind and spirit were forever changed by what he had done to her, but unlike last time, she won't be the one running from him.

She could see only red as she rushed down the Lower City alleys, hoping to catch up to him, but she lost him in the nightly dark. She was frantic, livid, unable to think straight as her body was as tight as a coil spring.

But he was gone. He had vanished into the ebony, and in her wild mind, she couldn't recall if she had even gone in the same direction.

There's an overpowering clamour roaring in her head, of the pulse in her neck and the beating of her own heart. It sounds like screaming, like her own screaming.

She's terrified.

So she acted before she could think.

There was a noise, a sequence of footsteps closing in, she hadn't registered behind the murmur in her ears.

"It's him. He's here. He thinks he can ambush me, but he cannot," she thought and spat out her frustration in a cutting yell as she swung an axe at his neck. Swiftly, in the blink of an eye, she gave him not a second to react as she spun around and-

Stopped. Immediately. She snapped right out of her hysteria.

It wasn't him.

It was the complete opposite.

That burning glow of those yellow starburst eyes made her feel nothing but a safety she never knew existed, but as soon as she caught up, that feeling of safety shattered and burst under the weight of distraught.

The sharp edge of her axe was only inches away from his neck, and she could feel her heart stop, then spill into her guts in ice-cold chunks.

He didn't have the chance to blink before she dropped her weapons and tripped back in horror. The steel of her axes clashed rantingly against the cobbled street as her back fell against a wall, face burrowed into her trembling hands.

"Oh my gods-" she whispered in a breath. "I-I can't believe I just did that-I-I..."

The wizard was none the wiser about what to think. He felt a cold horror running down where the iron nearly split his head off, and every muscle in his body shrieked. There truly was not a second for him to defend himself. No brief gap for him to cast a spell. One moment, he was running up to her, and the next, she stood facing him with a pin-piercing glare that melted as soon as it appeared.

She could've killed him in less than an instant, but she caught herself even faster.

He didn't know who he was looking at in that moment, but against his better judgment, he still urged her to get out of the dark and return to the shop. Whatever he felt could wait, as for once in his life, he had nothing to say. He was too proud to admit it, but he felt shocked. Of course he did; there had almost been an attempt on his life. By the woman who had saved it too many times over, no less.

How was he supposed to make sense of that?

The only thing clear to him then was that she was horrified too, and devastated. She was breathing out apology after apology, while refusing to look at him. He was fine with that; he wasn't certain what he would feel if he looked at her after what just happened.

He hadn’t thought about it before; it was always directed towards their enemies, but Lin is capable of incredible violence, and she’s far more than a little dangerous. She has made it abundantly clear to him in the way she reacted that she doesn’t mean to be, that it is only instinct, but it doesn't shake the unease.

He won't let her go. He can still tell she means too much to him, but there will be precautions from now on.

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

You’re right, Feyre stans are rarely just Feyre stans.

hi anon!

yep! this was specifically solidified for me after silver flames came out. feyre stans have been conditioned to always validate rhysand's intention over feyre's opinion. again - feyre has established that she:

(1) does not want rhysand to speak about her sisters in a disrespectful manner. feyre validates rhysand emotions about her sisters - meaning she isn't saying (and im not saying) that rhysand doesn't have a right to feel a certain way about her sisters. but that rhysand's feelings should not manifest in jabs and disrespectful words:

“Rhys said smoothly, “I’m not entirely sure Velaris is prepared for Nesta Archeron.” “My sister’s not some feral animal,” I snapped. Rhys recoiled a bit, the others suddenly finding the carpet, the divan, the books incredibly fascinating. “I didn’t mean that.”

feyre to rhysand.

“So she keeps saying, over and over,” Amren grumbled. I shot her a glare. “Careful.”

feyre to amren.

that's a boundary being set - clear as day. feyre does not approve or condone outright disrespect of her sisters. this has nothing to do with how we believe xyz or what rhys has a right to do, but what feyre has established as a no go.

(2) that she does not feel comfortable with rhysand being overly protective, to the point he withholds information, is overly violent, or conflicts with her wants:

“It’s hard to shut down my instincts.” Instincts. Just like … like someone else had instincts to protect, to hide me away. “Then you should have prepared yourself better,” I snapped. “You seemed to be going along just fine with it, until Keir said—”

rhys to feyre; feyre to rhys (acomaf)

(3)feyre doesn't care about instincts (as is an excuse used in sf), here she is telling rhys straight up that he needs to prepare himself better. bc she DOES NOT feel comfortable with the way rhys expressed his frustration. and again feyre is sympathetic to his reasonings, but she does not believe his intentions (in this case) justify the way he chooses to go about these things.

“I craned my neck to look up at him. “Never lie to me again. Not about that.”

feyre to rhys (acowar)

(4) again - feyre establishing a boundary. never lie to her about anything, especially important things.

feyre (and also fucking amren) also establishes that she doesn't believe that keeping her sisters couped up in the house of wind to be productive or helpful:

“If you want to start convincing your sisters, get them out of the House. Being cooped up never helped anyone.”

amren to feyre (acowar)

and nesta has established to rhys that she wants no interest in cassian:

“Nesta had made it clear enough she had no interest in Cassian—not even in being in the same room as him. I knew why. I’d seen it happen, had felt that way plenty.”

rhysand to az (acofas)

feyre also establishes - to rhys - that her she knows her sisters don't do well with public humiliation, and making a scene:

“ “I shouldn’t have asked her in public. I made a mistake.” and “I loosed a long sigh. “I should have considered that telling strangers what happened to her in Hybern might … might not be something she was comfortable with. My sister has been a private person her entire life, even amongst us.”

feyre to rhys (acowar).

im saying allll of this to say that in sf - rhysand literally takes all of these boundaries and shits on them. even his creation of the intervention conflicits against what feyre establishes: (1) her sister is a private person, and will not respond well to public humilation (2) nesta wants nothing to do with cassian (3) her sisters are not healty being in the house of wind and (4) feyre wants to be looped in and considered every step of the way. even the act of creating an intervention that goes so instinctively against feyre's wishes is an act of deep disrespect. that feyre stans can see these moments and still justify them bc their hatred for nesta and obsession w/ rhys trumps their 'love' for feyre. its a conditional like. here feyre is the victim and instead of writing metas and ff about feyre being done dirty by rhysand - they flock to justify rhysand's point to the point where they're willing to ignore feyre's opinions. its not abt how much we like / dislike the sisters. but how rhys's behavior conflicts against feyre's wants and boundaries. its about how those feyre stans would rather validate rhys then stand by feyre's emotions. to imply that rhysand's actions were appropriate means u place his actions above feyre.

feyre is adult and mature enough to manage her emotions, she not a child, she is perfectly able to stand-up and put her foot down. and she has - on multiple occasions retorted and fought back against her sisters - to consistently pretend feyre is a child who needs rhys to cosign and stand body-guard when feyre is perfectly able to do it herself says so much abt those 'stans' than they are willing to admit.

like feyre was able to face down tamlin - her abuser - all by her damn self. she's not some child who needs people to consistently defend her by undermining her opinions. if she wanted rhys to be an asshole to nesta - we would have saw that. instead we got this:

“That’s enough,” Feyre snapped at Rhys. “I told you to keep out of it.” He dragged his star-flecked eyes to his mate, and it was all Nesta could do to keep from collapsing onto the couch as her knees gave out at last. Feyre angled her head, nostrils flaring, and said to Rhysand, “You can either leave, or you can stay and keep your mouth shut.”

we got feyre telling rhys and amren that she did not want them to behave that way. and even after that. both rhys and amren continue ignoring feyre's requests. feyre is not respected - these are not the actions of people who respect her as an equal. she's a child to them , and they believe they know better.

idk - if i were a feyre stan- yall would never have shut me up if my fav was treated like a doormat and sidelined. i would have been writing scathing metas on rhys and the ic. - i wouldve been explaining exactly why rhys withholding information was wrong - not just vaguely saying he was wrong and then justifying why he did it. i would have been an amren hater #1 for how she continually undermined feyre. idk...yall are not real feyre shooters. like damn your fav is catching strays by the author and the readers and you're only focused on how nesta factors into that equation?? like youve got bigger problems to worry abt here. feyre has been continually and consistently phased out of her own story by the author and that don't bother yall? hmm couldnt be me tho.

[melimelissa998]

Slut!

Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You knew how handsome Jungkook was, but you also knew you didn't have a chance with him, so to befriend him was a safer option. But sometimes being kind can give the wrong idea...

“Did, you, hear?” my coworker Daniela asks with big pauses in between, I’m too busy with my morning reports that I didn’t notice when she sat on my desk “The new guy is going to be working on our floor for a few weeks” she informs me and I nod “Yep, you texted, emailed and told me that on the phone before I got here Dany” I say without taking my eyes off the computer screen.

Almost a month ago a new guy started working here and that’s all this office has been talking about since then. How handsome he is, how good he dresses, how lovely he talks… and the list goes on and on. Even though he had a month here, I haven’t actually seen him, besides, I went off vacations the week he started working on our floor.

Honeslty at this point he's not even the new guy anymore

“He’s just so handsome, his name is Jeon Jungkook, he’s a Virgo, 5’11”, went to Global Cyber University, and I swear, I’m in love.” She puts one hand on her chest and fans herself with the other. “Aw, good for you, stalker.” I say in a sarcastic tone “. I except my wedding invitation” I joke with a fake smile and she lets out an exaggerated sight. “He’s in the conference room with Namjoon and Taehyung, want to pass by to see him?” She suggests and gives me a small push on the shoulder “Did you say pass the conference room to see the new guy?” Jennie’s head pops out of her cubicle, I try not to laugh but I give in and accept “Only because it’s on my way to the cafeteria and I want my coffee” I say and she claps in excitement, I turn off my screen and hop off my chair. Jennie walks around the desk to loop her arm with mine and tugs me to start walking. As we pass by the long window, I spot the 3 men inside the room; Namjoon and Tae are facing our direction leaning on the meeting table talking to the Jungkook, who was giving his back to us. “Ugh, I swear he’s so handsome” Jennie says in a whisper, “I know right?” Daniela agrees, I try to look behind her head to take a better look at the new guy, but I only catch a glimpse of his profile. He has black hair and a really cute nose; his jaw looks really sharp and I see how many earrings he has and I think that’s what shocks me the most. “I can’t see his face but yeah he looks cute” I compliment, they agree with a giggle and I feel dumb remembering we are not teenagers anymore but sure act like it in the office.

While finishing our coffee and telling my friends how my vacations were, I hear the attempt of whispers coming from a certain area in the room, the 3 of us turn to see why there were loud whispers and it was all because the new guy was entering the cafeteria. I take a better look at him, handsome indeed. “Oh, so now I see why we’re all drooling for him.” I say and look at Daniela and she wiggles her eyebrows at me.“I heard Ari invited him for a drink and he said no” Jennie tells us and I can’t help but grimace. “Yeah? I heard it was Jihyo who invited him for dinner?” Daniela says in a question tone. “Her, Ari, Hanna and even Supervisor Yuri asked him out, but he keeps rejecting people, I mean come on, Ari? Who says no to her? Like the hottest one from the office?” Jennie rolls her eyes and I can’t help but laugh at her frustration. “Come on, he’s been here less than a month, let him breath.” I defend the poor guy, Daniela gives me a small push “You should ask him out Y/N, he looks like your type” she encourages me and I shake my head “Nop, if he rejected Ari and Hanna AND supervisor Yuri, then no.”

I take the last sip of my coffee and trash it out. Jennie and Daniela do the same and as we walk out the cafeteria, I hear someone call out the unfamiliar name of ‘Jungkook’ andby instinct I turn to see who called his name, I see there’s a coworker in front of Jungkook and he half smiles at her. I see his face with a “here we go again” expression, she gives him a small box with a bow on it and hear her ask if they could talk in private. I can’t help to chuckle thinking how we were just talking about this, he must’ve heard me because he turns to look at my direction, he stares at me but I can’t read if he’s mad about my laugh or just casually felt my gaze on him; I don’t turn away, I like how his eyes are dark brown but I still see a sparkly cute glow in them that make me want to keep staring. I start to feel conscious about how I haven't taken my eyes off him so I turn around a little ashamed and keep walking straight out of there back to my desk again.

Around 12, I feel so bored and try to distract myself with anything else I can do until I have my lunch break in 30 more minutes, so I decide to make Jimin a visit to his office to catch up on my days off, I take a fake deck of papers and walk to the elevator to go up, when I arrive to his floor, I greet his assistant and let her know that I need Jimin to sign a few documents; “Of course you do Miss Y/N” she jokes “He’s already waiting for you” she points with her head to his office and I try to not laugh.

Jimin and I meet here at work, even though we were side by side cubicle we would only exchange ‘HI’s’ and ´Good mornings´ the first couple of months, but one day I saw him reading one of my favorite books and started chatting more and book clubbing during our lunch hour, then he got promoted to a higher position and moved 2 floors higher, but even so we still kept meeting up and sneak in his office to gossip or just hide from our work responsibilities slash wait until lunch to run off.

I knock on his door and don’t wait to hear him say come in, “Excuse me Mr. Park, I need your very important signature on these reports” I fake a serious tone and I see him panic for a second before realizing it’s just me. “Oh Y/N! you’re back” he gets up and walks to hug me.

We sit on his sofa and catch up about work, my vacations, a few gossips that’s been going around the company and of course we talk about Jungkook.

He talks about how they already knew each other before work because of Tae, he also told me how done he’s with all the girls at the company because they keep flirting with him. “I’m telling you, on the first day he had already like 8 sticky notes in his office with their numbers” he kept telling me, I didn’t want to laugh because I did feel bad for Jungkook, but I couldn’t believe how crazy they were for him, “I mean he is handsome, but oh my god, I would never do that” I say and he smirks at me “Oh so you won’t ask him out?” he asks and I shake my head “Oh hell no, I know where I stand here” I say and he rolls his eyes “Don’t say that, you are very pretty, you may have a shot” he encourages me “I know I’m pretty.” I brush my hair behind my shoulder “. But I also know when I have my shot” I shrug my shoulders and try to change the topic about what we were going to have for lunch.

Jimin and I pick a restaurant near the office close enough to walk to and invite our friends to join us. As we sit at our table Namjoon asks if it’s okay if Jungkook could join us, which we said it was fine, Jennie and I look at each other and giggled. The only chair free by the time Jungkook arrives is the one next to me and even if I told myself I wouldn’t try to ask him out that didn’t make me not be nervous. He greets us and we say hi back.

During our lunch I felt Jungkook too quit and I didn’t want him to feel left out “So Jungkook, how do you like the job so far?” I ask him and he turns a little confused at me “It’s fine, I’m okay” he answers and I expect for a little more than that but I realize that was all he is going to give me. I nod a little embarrassed and try again “That’s nice, and what about the city? Jimin told me you were from Busan” I do the small talk but again he answers with a few words “It’s nice, almost the same” I feel even more stupid and turn to finish my food.

And to think they said he was lovely…

For the rest of the lunch he would keep a conversation with the boys and that kinda made me a bit mad how he would chat with them but made me feel small…

2.

[shallowseeker]

The Exodus convo between Lucifer and Gabe was so good, really.

You see, I think the conversation between Gabriel and Lucifer in Exodus 13x22 was good because they were both right, and they were both wrong!

Gabriel is leaning too far into Chuck's POV, blaming the victim, blaming Lucifer for the things that happened TO him.

GABRIEL: (incredulous at Lucifer’s gall) Okay, you think Dad was the ‘bad guy,’ and you were a victim? You were not a victim. That was just your excuse. LUCIFER: My excuse for what? GABRIEL: For it all, Lucifer. For it all.

It's great because Gabriels is a little bit wrong here. We've seen the Mark up-close and we've seen how it takes away free will. The fact of the matter is that, even in Chuck's own words, Lucifer was a victim. Chuck's line about "Lucifer always casting a jaundiced eye" is a rationalization—Chuck sidestepping his own culpability.

Because even if Lucifer had those undercurrents, the Mark, as we saw, eradicates impulse control. Choosing not to act on ugly thoughts is an essential component of free well.

Lucifer was both a victim AND a perpetrator.

///

Responsibility, wants, and needs:

But Gabe's also right, that at some point Lucifer has to take responsibility for his own actions instead of blaming everything on "a bad childhood." (See Vince!Lucifer's words: "And because being Lucifer? So much Judeo-Christian baggage. But Vince? He's famous. Everybody loves him. And I need love. I had a really jacked childhood.")

(((Aside/// Ah, yes. The two SPN character archetypes: "I need/deserve love" and "I'm unworthy of love."))))

Anyway, It's a bit of a thematic warning that everything Sam and Dean do can't be laid at the feet of John Winchester. At some point, as an adult, you have to stand up and take responsibility for your actions.

GABRIEL: (amused at Lucifer’s frustration) It is really killing you, you’re not out there impressing your kid, huh? Lucifer, do you really see a version here where he sticks by you? LUCIFER: (shrugging) I think the kid is pretty blown away by his old man, so... Yeah. I do. GABRIEL: He’s a kid. He likes shiny objects and magic tricks. But he’s not like you. I can see it in his eyes. His mother’s bloodline, the Winchesters’ influence... LUCIFER: I can be an influence.

Lucifer wants.

But Jack's humanness, his human-centered locus of morality, separates the two of them utterly.

///

Redemption for thee but not for me?

It's interesting a little bit because we see all sorts of evil characters get redemption. Amara spends an entire season sucking out souls and bringing on immense destruction to earth (see: TVss filled with storms, fires, and destruction), and yet... characters like John Winchester, like Lucifer, when it comes to the faintest whiff of redemption, we balk.

I'm not saying they necessarily should get redemption, but our instinctive reaction to the idea is interesting to me. Certain characters' symbolism with respect to evil is so deeply embedded that we cling to our own revenge against them.

And when we care more about who they hurt, we tend to be less forgiving.

///

Too late for Lucifer // Too late for Chuck?

LUCIFER: I’ve changed. [Gabriel stands and walks over to Lucifer.] GABRIEL: Dude, it’s me. I’ve known you since the stars were made. You can’t change. You’re incapable of empathy or love. You live to be worshiped or feared. Or both. LUCIFER: Okay. I--I see that you’ve -- you’ve drunk the Kool-Aid. Fine. [Lucifer pouts, shooing Gabriel way as he turns back towards the truck.] GABRIEL (sarcastically): Oh, is this the part where you tell me that, uh, Dad made up all those so-called lies about you? Got it. LUCIFER (getting angry): Yeah! Yeah, Pop locked me up, okay? GABRIEL (also getting angry): Don’t you get it? Humans were innocent and beautiful. But you...you couldn’t stand that the old man loved them more than He loved you. So you tempted them and corrupted them just to prove how flawed they were. LUCIFER (threateningly) You better be careful, man. GABRIEL: Dad saw that your evil was like the first few cells of cancer...that it would spread like the disease unless He cut it out. That is why He locked you up, to stop the cancer. But it was too late then. And guess what? It’s too late for you now. [Gabriel turns away, leaning on the truck bed and looking back at the camp. Lucifer stares at Gabriel, a lone tear falling from his eye, before he too turns the other way and stares off into the darkness.]

Is it ever too late? I think that's the biggest question of all. And it sticks out to me too that while Gabriel blames Lucifer for his own corruption (the Mark), he gives humans a pass. In Gabe's mind, they're not responsible for their own corruption! Bit of a conundrum, isn't it? Because it's hypocritical to Gabe's overarching point about being responsible for your own actions...

For that matter, what was the "cancer" Lucifer corrupted them with? Was it evil... or was it free will?

Aside/// It's also interesting to me... After Gabriel pronounces his judgment, he turns away so as not to be moved by Lucifer's tears, but note: he is moved by them—he doesn't leave Lucifer's side.

///

Anyway, Lucifer may have killed Gabe, but simultaneously, Gabe is one of the people Lucifer still loves and who still loves Lucifer. It's why the conversation actually hurts.

It's perhaps one of the reasons Lucifer steps up to face off again against AU Michael, even when he's already lost so badly to him, because we have to remember Cas's words: Lucifer’s deeply, deeply afraid of this Michael, too.

It's...hm. It's something. Lucifer has purpose when he's fighting, and however selfish his motivations were, Jack gave him something to fight for. He stepped in front of Gabe to fight Michael, at first.

That's. Hm.... it's something.

///

Cas and Gabe... the only people who seem to be able to put up with Lucifer somewhat effectively, lol.

///

Anyhoo, speaking of redemption...

This conversation reminds me just a little bit of the deleted conversation between Chuck and Metatron in 11x20. Metatron shows his humanity to Chuck, who chops it up and conceptualizes those emotions as "story." It's a bit of flagrant, writerly dehumanization, and Metatron's reaction to Chuck's lack of humanity is so interesting to me:

METATRON: I did. (gets up) But Cas-hat... he spared me. He showed mercy. (sits down opposite CHUCK) And do you know what was the first thing I heard when I woke up in my cold hospital bed? It was hands-down the sweetest, loveliest song I ever heard in my whole, long, sad bottom-feeder existence... My heartbeat. I was still alive. The joy of knowing that you're still alive, and the simultaneous panic of knowing that someday that heart is going to stop beating, that's humanity. It's frail and it's flawed, but damn it, it's worth fighting for. CHUCK: That's a really sweet story, Metatron. Good details, nice balance, and a healthy dose of truth. But it's a little late for a redemption arc, don't you think? METATRON: For me, or for you?

That's...hm. It's definitely something.

Maybe it's easier to get redemption when you haven't irrevocably hurt the people we love... When their victims are... more distant.

[shadowqueenjude]

Hiiii!! First your posts give me life!!! I’m always waiting for the next one because I know you’re going to spit gems and speak facts 💁‍♀️.

I have a question/thought about the mates situation. People keep saying SJM will be exploring the rejected mating bond concept, specifically in Elain’s book….When did she say that? WHERE? From what I’ve seen and read, she did say it was an interesting concept (fate, mating bond vs agency and all that good stuff) but she also said she didn’t know if she would be exploring it in the future, let alone in Elain’s book or the ACOTAR series. So HOW in the world do people take that as a confirmation that she will absolutely do it in Elain’s book? Even the whole “what if the cauldron is wrong” argument. Well maybe she’ll use Elain’s book to demonstrate that in fact the cauldron is never wrong because it actually doesn’t decide anything. This frustrates me to no end.

Anyway, keep slaying Queen 💅!

My dear Anon, we shall have an Autumn wedding.

This is what SJM said:

“That’s something I find to be very interesting,” she replies. “What if the forces that be put you with the wrong person? Or what if you just decide, eh, I’m not interested. … There’s a lot to explore within the concept of mates and your agency about it. 

“I’m not going to say if I am exploring it in future books or not,” she continues, “but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

She did NOT confirm that she would be exploring it at ANY point!!!! I do NOT know why people are acting like it is a guarantee.

What if the Cauldron was wrong? COULD be foreshadowing yes, but the answer is rarely that obvious LMAO. Amren told Nesta that there were other ways to fight beside a sword, but Nesta became a warrior. Most likely it's talking about Elain. So is it really so hard to believe that this is NOT talking about Elain at all, but someone else entirely?

The three most likely options for a rejected mating trope are as follows:

LoA-Helion: we get to explore the pain and angst of knowing a mate has married and had children with another, and dealing with the rejected trope for centuries, but will eventually get together in the end. SJM is not about to give Lucien's parents a tragic ending lmfao. And in her world, rejected mates=tragedy.

Mor-Eris: if we go in the direction that mating bonds can only occur between males and females and Mor and Eris are both gay, so they can never have feelings for each other. In which case we explore the difficulties associated with a bond that neither person wants yet the instincts are still there.

Tamlin-Amarantha: did anyone wonder WHY tf Amarantha was so obsessed with Tamlin? Like, I know he's hot and all, but goddamnit girl what the fuck? Now, if they were mates and Tamlin rejected her, it would make sense. It would also add more nuance to Tamlin AND Amarantha's characters, and we'd get to explore Tamlin's trauma post-UTM after being forced to reject and kill his mate and how that drove him a little mad.

But, the rejected bond is NOT a guarantee, so there may NOT be any rejected bonds. These are all just theories at this point. One thing I am CERTAIN of is that the rejected bond will CERTAINLY NOT be Elain and Lucien. Especially not when SJM dangled Gwyn in front of us. Now THAT one is fucking obvious lol.

[yuseirra]

woke up really early in the morning and I'm drawing...I get really sentimental at dawn, allow me to just drabble away...

In my opinion, the character Kamiki is one of two extremes:

Either he is extraordinarily evil, or he is extraordinarily kind...

Looking at the story, Ai was protecting that person by risking everything—her own happiness (she wanted to be with this person forever), even putting her career in danger. She took everything upon herself, saying she couldn't give up because those children were hers with that person, and she decided to raise them.

In that case, it’s the latter. No, it really has to be the latter because I’m not bad at psychological analysis, you know? At least up to the point when they broke up, that really was his personality. I thought, "Huh? What is this?" and after that, I really watched closely, and I even managed to predict what he's actually done. I DID THAT.

I’ve never been a mother, but from a mother’s perspective, there’s this natural instinct to protect and care for one’s children, right? Especially if there’s affection for them. I'm not all about maternal love is absolute, or something like that, what I'm coming from is that, if you have children, unless you're a really terrible parent, you want good things for them and YOU are the one that shields them from harm, and watch over them and all... You get these sorts of feeling when you look at little kids who aren't your own as well, if they ARE your own, I feel like that protective, loving affection would only increase.

But Ai asked her CHILDREN a favor to help their dad. This means... her feelings for her boyfriend were as powerful compared to her feelings as a mother, you know? The fact that she, as a mother, is counting on her children to aid him... it means it was a very strong desire, something she deeply wished for. It even...I don't think it's the perfect word but overwrites? makes her set aside her feelings as a mother if it means she can help the guy. She loves him so much. THAT MUCH. He's really someone she loves and wants to tend to. She couldn't give up on him... It also means that she trusts him that much as well because why make her own kids get close to someone who can be dangerous?

Given this, I think it’s not just highly likely, but practically certain that Ai’s boyfriend was an exceptionally good person.

For someone to evoke such deep feelings in Ai, they can’t be ordinary. Ai had a strong distrust of people, you know. She was very wary.

Kamiki... there’s something about him... When he talks, it feels like he’s accommodating others to an excessive degree, suppressing his own emotions and enduring while being considerate of others. That’s what I sensed.

Just like Ai had her own pent-up frustrations but still smiled, this character seems to be doing the same thing. He has no inner monologue when he appears in the present, so it’s hard to fully grasp his thoughts, but he must be in pain. If you look at the flashbacks, it’s clear he used to be, but like Ai, he doesn’t show it on the surface, which leads to misunderstandings.

After hearing his voice, I’m even more convinced;

This person seems like an exceptionally good person. Could he really be capable of doing something bad? I get the feeling he’s exactly the kind of person Ai would choose... Ai truly risked everything for him. She gave all her heart to this one person and I feel THAT'S why she was happy about having their children as well.

I believe this character would absolutely do the same for Ai and their children. I’m pretty sure I’m right. I keep looking at him, and the way he acts is very sweet. He doesn't have to be that way, but that behavior is consistent... this really gets to me, it's so contradictory to the accusations he's been faced so I end up talking about a lot because I keep seeing things. Is this guy REALLY evil? I guess it'll be sorted out soon but I'd even go as far as to say that he could have really done.. nothing so wrong... anyhow Ai really loves him. That's really endearing... and if he's what I think he is, he really is someone who can deserve that.. everything clicks to me if he is!!!! I won't have a clue on what's up with all this if he isn't!!

It's a bit late to say this, but my favorite type is "someone whose heart is so generous that they sometimes suffer losses, but they accept it with a broad understanding."

It’s not about a specific character; that’s just the kind of person I consider my ideal type...

I sometimes wonder, "Am I reading the character this way because I want them to be like that?" But honestly, I didn’t really have any thoughts like that until I read chapters 152-154.

I can recognize characters like this when I see them. I’m serious... because I always have them as my favs. (I'm still being really cautious regarding this guy but I see signs of him being this way)

I understand why Ai liked this character so much if that's the case then. It’s because such a person is incredibly rare and a gift to the world...You want to protect these types of people, preserve them, and help them out. I feel like that's what she wanted to do for him.

At this point, I want to think "Whatever happens, happens." I really need to stop thinking so much about this subject, it's a comic and it's all about having fun, but..

That character, in my opinion, is one of two things:

Either they’re a psychopath who's been acting all along, or they’re a total pushover, someone with an unusually high threshold for anger, drowning in self-doubt, who keeps enduring without being able to express their rage.

Both are extreme to the point of being inhuman, but I think it’s the latter. I really believe it’s the latter...

and it's stressful seeing that kind of person being misunderstood if he is you know!! I think this is it though!! Because Ai wants to protect him with all her might and I get that if he's really like this!!

[aghost-writer]

Love Me... Until the End

Chapter 19

This is a Yandere Tokyo Ghoul x Female Reader Fic!

MDNI!!

The tension in the room was palpable as Marude stood at the front, his stern gaze sweeping over the gathered investigators. Shinohara, Amon, and several other senior members were seated around the long table, their expressions serious as they awaited the briefing.

“Shinohara and Amon reporting,” Shinohara announced, his voice steady as he bowed slightly in acknowledgment of the room. Amon followed suit, his eyes briefly scanning the familiar faces: Assistant Special Investigator Chino, Senior Investigator Tainaka, Special Investigator Arima’s old partner, Senior Investigator Hirako. Finally, his gaze landed on Kuroiwa, and he nodded respectfully.

“Now everyone, please take a seat,” Marude called, his voice sharp. He paced across the room, the sound of his boots echoing in the silence.

As the investigators settled into their chairs, Marude cleared his throat, his demeanor shifting to that of a man about to address an important, grim matter.

“As you may have already heard,” Marude began, his tone heavy with the weight of the news, “the 11th Ward Branch was attacked. The enemy inflicted significant damage in a very short amount of time. We’ve lost a number of brave souls in the assault. According to the police reports from the scene, the group we’re dealing with is called Aogiri Tree. They have over two hundred members that we are aware of. We’ve never seen this many ghouls band together before, so we don’t know what to expect from them.”

Shinohara crossed his arms, his brow furrowing with concern. “What do you think their objective is, sir?” he asked, his voice calm but edged with the same uncertainty everyone in the room was feeling.

Marude’s expression darkened as he answered, his eyes narrowing. “I really wish I could tell you. Who knows what the ghouls are thinking? At this point, all we know for certain is that they’ve taken control of the 11th Ward. We expect their numbers to grow. Once word gets out that Aogiri Tree has taken an entire ward, ghouls who have been acting independently will most likely flock to their cause. We must prepare for war—a war between humans and ghouls. And the CCG will be on the front lines! We’ll give our lives for the cause! That’s an order, by the way!” His voice had risen with the intensity of his speech, his words full of conviction.

Before Marude could continue, the door to the room suddenly swung open with a loud creak, cutting him off mid-sentence.

“Excuse me! Hi, I’m Mr. Shinohara’s underling, the name’s Juuzou Suyuza!” A loud, carefree voice interrupted the moment. Juuzou barged into the room with an easy grin plastered on his face, oblivious to the intensity of the conversation. “Sorry to barge in late, but I kinda got lost on my way here!” he continued, as if it were no big deal.

Marude’s eyes widened in disbelief, his hand instinctively clutching the side of his face as he gasped, his epic speech having been completely derailed by the unexpected interruption.

Shinohara rubbed his temple in frustration, muttering under his breath, “Juuzou…” His expression betrayed his exhaustion with the young investigator’s antics.

Juuzou, completely unfazed, gave a bright smile and a half-hearted bow. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me,” he said, his voice full of the kind of charm that was both endearing and infuriating in equal measure.

Marude, now visibly exasperated, sighed deeply. “Well, this meeting just went from bad to worse,” he muttered under his breath as he regained his composure.

・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・・。・。・

(Y/N) sat cross-legged on the edge of Touka’s bed, the mattress creaking softly beneath her weight. The dim light filtering through the closed blinds made the room feel even more stifling, and the faint scent of lavender—a half-hearted attempt at calming her nerves—did little to soothe her irritation. She had begrudgingly obeyed Kaneki’s and Touka’s demands, retreating to the room to “stay safe,” but the entire situation grated on her nerves. She wasn’t some helpless child they could just tuck away like a fragile glass ornament.

Her phone buzzed softly in her hand, the screen glowing as she opened her messaging app. Her fingers flew across the screen, typing a text to Hide, who was blissfully unaware of the chaos brewing just a few walls away.

(Y/N): Hey, do you think alligators ever get tired of living in swamps? Like, wouldn’t they want to hang out at the beach or something?

The response came almost instantly.

Hide: Why would they want to? Free food and no sunscreen needed. Sounds like paradise.

She smirked slightly, tapping out another message.

(Y/N): Yeah, but imagine them with sunglasses. Total vibe shift.

Hide: I’m more interested in why you’re thinking about alligators right now. What’s going on?

She stared at the screen for a moment before typing back.

(Y/N): Nothing much. Just hanging out. Touka’s being bossy, though.

It wasn’t technically a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. She wasn’t about to drag Hide into this mess—or explain why she was currently hiding in someone else’s room like some fragile little lamb.

The conversation continued for a few minutes, bouncing between absurd topics like the best flavor of ice cream (Hide insisted it was mint chocolate chip, which she adamantly disagreed with) and whether or not pigeons secretly had an underground society. It helped for a while, the steady rhythm of banter keeping her mind occupied. But as the conversation lulled, her thoughts began to wander.

She placed her phone beside her on the bed, staring at the ceiling as a deep sigh escaped her lips. The distant sounds of muffled voices and occasional crashes from the main floor barely registered as her irritation gave way to something heavier—a weight she couldn’t quite name.

Her mind drifted, unbidden, to fragments of memories. Blurred edges, faces she couldn’t entirely place. The echo of laughter, sharp and clear, followed by the warmth of sunlight on her skin. A hand reaching out to hers—whose hand, though? She couldn’t remember.

Another memory surfaced, this one colder. A narrow street at twilight, the air heavy with the smell of rain. Shadows stretched long and ominous, and the sharp pang of fear made her stomach twist even now. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shake it off, but the memories refused to be pushed away.

She gritted her teeth, her hands curling into fists against the bedsheets. Why now? Why here? She had done everything she could to avoid digging too deeply into the past. It was easier not to think about it, easier to move forward without looking back. But now, alone in this room, her defenses crumbled, leaving her vulnerable to the ghosts of what once was.

Her thoughts lingered on one final image: a familiar face, smiling warmly. Her heart ached, but she couldn’t place a name. All she knew was that it felt… safe. Like home. ・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・・。・。・

The park had been quiet that day, the warm sunlight spilling through the trees and dappling the ground with shifting patterns. (Y/N) sat beside Hide on a worn wooden bench, the two of them sharing a cup of mint chocolate chip ice cream. They weren’t talking much, just enjoying the calm, but it hadn’t felt awkward. With Hide, it never did.

She could still remember how the air smelled faintly of grass and distant flowers, how the ducks in the pond quacked softly as they glided over the water. They’d spent the entire day together, wandering the city aimlessly before landing here to rest.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Hide’s voice had broken through her thoughts, his tone playful. “You’ve got ice cream on your face.”

She frowned slightly, swiping at the wrong cheek without much urgency. “Did I get it?”

“Not even close,” Hide said, grinning.

She raised an eyebrow but made no move to try again. “Guess I’ll leave it then. Adds character.”

Hide had laughed at that, leaning toward her before she could react. His thumb brushed against her cheek, and before she could process what was happening, he licked the bit of ice cream from his thumb.

“Fixed it,” he said casually, though his grin had wavered just slightly, like he was waiting for her reaction.

(Y/N) had blinked at him, unbothered but slightly amused. “That was… unnecessary.”

“Eh, it’s who I am,” he’d replied with a shrug, though she could’ve sworn she saw the tips of his ears turn red.

The memory shifted then, to the older couple who had passed them moments later. She could still hear their words, the knowing tone in their voices. “Ah, young love,” one of them had said, glancing at her and Hide with a smile.

She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, brushing the comment off with a flat, “Not quite.”

But Hide had gone quiet after that. She could see it now in her mind’s eye—the way his fingers had drummed nervously against his knees, his usual energy subdued.

“You know… I wouldn’t mind,” he’d said softly, his voice almost drowned out by the distant quacking of ducks.

She’d turned to him then, puzzled. “Wouldn’t mind what?”

“If people thought that. About us.”

His words had caught her off guard, though she hadn’t shown it. She’d only blinked, her expression calm, as if he’d asked her something mundane instead of cracking open his heart. “Huh.”

He’d laughed it off after that, calling himself dumb, brushing past his own confession like it didn’t matter. And she’d let him.

Looking back now, (Y/N) wondered why she hadn’t said anything. Maybe she hadn’t known what to say, or maybe she hadn’t understood what his words had really meant. She’d just smiled faintly and made some offhand comment about him always being a little dumb, and the moment had passed.

But now, sitting alone in Touka’s room, her thoughts refused to leave that day. It felt like an itch at the back of her mind, a memory that wouldn’t settle. Had she really been so blind? Or had she just chosen not to see? ・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・・。・。・

(Y/N) tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the diamond stud earrings. They were extravagant—far too much for her taste—but they’d been a gift. She’d never asked for them, never wanted anything like them, but Shuu had insisted.

Her lips curved into a faint smile, and her calm expression faltered slightly as her mind drifted back to that evening—the one where she began to see the cracks in his usually composed, dramatic demeanor.

“Shuu, this dress feels…” (Y/N) hesitated from behind the curtain, smoothing the fabric nervously. “It’s a little much, isn’t it? I mean, I appreciate it, but I don’t think this is really me.”

Sitting nearby in a luxurious armchair, Shuu chuckled softly, his voice rich with amusement. “My dear, you mustn’t concern yourself with such trivial matters. The dress is you. Simply you.”

(Y/N) sighed, shaking her head as she glanced at the deep purple lace dress. It was elegant, short, and not her usual style. She adjusted the hem self-consciously and finally stepped out from behind the curtain.

Shuu rose to his feet immediately, his expression brightening. “Ah, magnifique! You look stunning, my dear.”

Her calm composure didn’t waver, though a flicker of discomfort passed through her as his gaze lingered a little too long. She folded her arms loosely. “It’s not really my style,” she said simply. “But… thank you.”

Ignoring her uncertainty, Shuu reached into his pocket, producing a small velvet box. “Now, to complete the look,” he said with an air of triumph.

(Y/N) raised a brow as he opened the box, revealing a pair of diamond stud earrings. “Shuu,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “You didn’t need to do this. Really.”

He waved off her protest with a flourish. “Need? Nonsense. These are meant for you. When I saw the way your eyes lingered on them in the shop—ah, it was heartbreaking to see you deny yourself something so exquisite.”

Her lips quirked slightly at his dramatics. “I wasn’t denying myself, Shuu. I just thought they were too expensive.”

“And that, my dear, is precisely why they belong to you,” he said, stepping closer. His hand brushed against hers as he gently took one of the earrings from the box.

(Y/N) didn’t pull away but stayed still, watching him with her usual quiet demeanor. “You really don’t have to do all this,” she said softly. “I don’t need anything fancy to be your friend.”

Shuu paused for the briefest moment, something unspoken flashing in his eyes. Then he leaned in, carefully securing the earring in her ear. His fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You deserve far more than you think, princess.”

(Y/N) tilted her head slightly, her calm expression unreadable. “You’re very persistent, you know that?”

His lips curved into a small smile, one that lacked his usual theatrical flair. “Only when it comes to you.”

The silence between them stretched as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers for the faintest of moments. It wasn’t forceful or bold—just a quiet act of vulnerability that seemed unlike him.

(Y/N) blinked, caught off guard, but her expression remained composed. She stepped back slightly, her gaze steady but kind. “Shuu…”

“Yes, my dear?” he asked, his voice unusually hesitant.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” she said carefully. “You’re a good friend.���

The words hung between them, her meaning clear. Shuu’s smile didn’t falter, but the subtle shift in his eyes told her he understood.

Now, as her fingers toyed with the diamond studs, (Y/N) let out a soft sigh. She’d grown to care for Shuu deeply, but not in the way he wanted. He was dramatic and overwhelming at times, but beneath it all, he was loyal, thoughtful, and so much more than he let others see.

Even now, she felt a pang of guilt as she thought of the subtle hurt in his eyes that night. She’d tried to be kind, to let him down gently, but a part of her knew he wouldn’t give up so easily. ・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・・。・。・

(Y/N) sat cross-legged on her bed, scrolling through her phone when a notification popped up: a text from Uta.

“Miss you, baby. Come by soon.”

She stared at the message for a moment, her face calm and unreadable, before locking her phone and setting it on the bedside table. Her hand idly moved to the corner of her lips as the memory of their last encounter surfaced, uninvited.

The workshop was quiet except for the faint hum of a fan in the corner. (Y/N) sat on the edge of the workbench, her legs dangling lazily as Uta leaned against the table beside her, inspecting a newly finished mask.

“Try it on,” he murmured, handing it to her.

She took it without protest, slipping the mask over her face. “How do I look?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled but tinged with dry amusement.

“Like something that crawled out of a nightmare,” Uta replied with a small smirk. He snapped a picture before she could protest, then set his phone down.

Pulling the mask off, she placed it carefully beside her. “You’re such a weirdo,” she said, though there was no malice in her tone.

Uta tilted his head, his sharp eyes studying her. “You don’t seem to mind.”

“I don’t,” she replied simply, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

His gaze lingered on her, a flicker of something darker crossing his expression. “Baby,” he said softly, stepping closer.

She glanced up at him, her hands resting idly in her lap. “What?”

“Don’t leave me,” he said, his voice low but firm.

Her brows twitched slightly in surprise, but she didn’t pull away when he reached for her wrist. “I’m not going anywhere, Uta.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He tugged her closer, his hand sliding to her waist. The warmth of his touch didn’t startle her, but the intensity in his eyes did.

Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was anything but casual. His hand slipped to her lower back, pulling her against him as he deepened the kiss. She let him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, though her grip was loose, almost indifferent.

It wasn’t the first time, and she doubted it would be the last. Whatever this was between them—casual, fleeting—it worked. She didn’t ask for more, and neither did he. But his desperation tonight felt heavier, and she couldn’t ignore it.

When he pulled back, his voice dropped to a whisper. “Stay with me, baby. Don’t leave.”

Her expression remained unreadable, though her heartbeat quickened at the sincerity in his tone. She reached up to push a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “You’re being dramatic again,” she said lightly, her voice calm.

Uta’s lips curled into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe.”

The buzz of her phone pulled her from the memory. She reached for it again, rereading Uta’s text.

Without much thought, she typed back: “Later.”

Setting the phone back down, she lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, though she didn’t quite know why. ・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・・。・。・

The moon hung high in the ink-black sky, casting a cold silver light over the quiet city. Y/N sat on the edge of Touka’s bed, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she stared at the faint cracks in the wooden floorboards. The room was dark except for the pale glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains. Everything was still.

Her breathing was steady, calm, but the storm inside her mind was anything but. She had been sitting there for what felt like hours, weighing the pros and cons of what she was about to do. It wasn’t an impulsive decision—she never acted on impulse. This had been building for weeks, months even. The unease, the tension, the overwhelming feeling that she no longer belonged.

Her gaze flicked toward the small backpack sitting by the door. She had packed it quietly while Touka was out earlier. Just a few necessities—clothes, some cash, and a small journal she’d scribbled in for years. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Enough to get her started.

Touka wouldn’t understand, and that was what made this harder. Touka was fierce, loyal to a fault, and wouldn’t hesitate to fight for Y/N to stay. But Y/N had made up her mind. She couldn’t keep living in limbo, surrounded by people who seemed to want more from her than she could give. It wasn’t that she didn’t care—she did, deeply—but the weight of everyone else’s expectations was suffocating. She needed air. She needed space.

With a quiet exhale, Y/N stood and walked to the window. She parted the curtains slightly, looking out into the night. The street below was quiet, the buildings dark, and the only sounds were the occasional gust of wind and the distant hum of a car engine. The city always felt alive, even in its quietest moments, but tonight it seemed as though the world was holding its breath.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at the closed bedroom door, her heart twinging with guilt. She hadn’t left a note. What would she even say? Words felt hollow and meaningless, and she knew that no matter how she phrased it, Touka would never truly understand. It was better this way. A clean break.

She slipped on her jacket and shouldered her backpack. Her movements were slow, deliberate, as though she was testing her own resolve. She pushed the window open, the cool night air brushing against her face. It smelled faintly of rain, and she wondered if a storm was on the horizon.

Climbing out of the window wasn’t as difficult as she thought it would be. The ledge was narrow, but she moved carefully, swinging one leg over and then the other. Her boots found purchase on the small overhang below, and she crouched there for a moment, steadying herself. The ground was only a few feet down—a manageable drop.

She hesitated, glancing back into the room one last time. It was strange, seeing it from this angle, like she was already an outsider looking in. The room was filled with small, intimate touches that spoke of Touka’s personality: books stacked haphazardly on the nightstand, a half-finished cup of tea on the windowsill, and a jacket tossed carelessly over the back of a chair. It was warm, lived-in, a place that felt like home.

But it wasn’t her home. Not really.

With a deep breath, she turned away and jumped.

Her boots hit the ground with a soft thud, and she crouched low, listening for any sign that she’d been heard. The house remained silent. She straightened up, slinging the backpack higher on her shoulder, and started walking.

The streets were eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that made her hyperaware of every sound—the crunch of gravel under her boots, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the faint hum of power lines overhead. She kept her head down, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets, and walked with purpose, though she didn’t have a clear destination in mind.

All she knew was that she couldn’t stay.

Her thoughts swirled as she made her way toward the main road. Memories of the past few months flickered in her mind like a film reel, each one sharpening the ache in her chest. Touka’s relentless determination to keep her safe. Hide’s easy laughter and constant reassurance. Uta’s calm, calculating demeanor that always seemed to see right through her.

And Shuu.

She shook her head, trying to push the thought of him away, but it lingered stubbornly, like a thorn caught under her skin. She had grown to care for him in her own way, but she could see it in his eyes every time they were together—he wanted more. More than she could give. More than she was willing to give. And the thought of hurting him, of hurting any of them, was almost enough to make her turn back.

Almost.

Her resolve hardened as she reached the main road. The distant glow of streetlights stretched out before her, leading toward the city center. She paused for a moment, looking both ways, though there were no cars in sight. The road stretched endlessly in either direction, a stark reminder of how far she could go.

This was it.

She adjusted the strap of her backpack and took a step forward.

And then another.

Each step felt heavier than the last, like the weight of what she was leaving behind was trying to pull her back. But she kept moving, her gaze fixed on the horizon. The city loomed ahead, a sprawling maze of possibilities and unknowns.

She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she knew she wouldn’t find it by staying.

As she walked, she replayed Touka’s voice in her head, the arguments they’d had, the concern Touka had always masked with her sharp words. “You can’t just disappear every time things get hard, Y/N. You’ve got people who care about you. You’ve got me.”

The memory stung, but she brushed it aside.

This wasn’t about running away. It was about finding herself, finding something she felt she had lost a long time ago.

The wind picked up, tugging at her hair and jacket as she made her way down the empty road. She didn’t look back.

[solitaire-sol]

(Slightly Late) Snippet

Thanks to @groundzero-v for the tag! This is a bit from my previously-mentioned Regency AU, though I'm still waffling over it because I'm not as familiar with the Regency period as I am with the Victorian. Anyway: The young Earl of Welspryng Grange attends a house party at the country estate of the Most Hon. Marquess Black, intent on a proper marriage to Lady Regina, the Marquess' daughter. Lord James Potter is confident that things will go according to plan-- but did not account for Lady Regina's elder brother, the notorious Lord Sirius Black.

His first instinct, of course, was to reach for James-- James, already James, even if only in Sirius' mind. It would have been all too easy to put out a hand and halt the other's flight, to wrap his fingers around the finely-muscled arm beneath that merino sleeve or twist his fingers into that snowy cravat in the same way that they could so easily tangle in those glossy black curls, forever on the verge of being flyaway. It would have been easy, a simple act of seduction that Sirius had performed to great success many times before.

And yet something had stilled him, leaving Sirius to watch in uncharacteristic inaction as James muttered a half-audible goodnight and beat a hasty retreat, the tails of his coat disappearing around the edge of the drawing-room door. Annoyance, and an odd, nebulous feeling of regret, welled up in Sirius, who berated himself for his inexplicable hesitation and consoled himself with a swallow of his father's finest cognac. The sweet burn of the spirit was a match for the frustrated desire that still had his senses alight, so it hadn't been a lack of interest that had held Sirius back; some subconscious concern, then, about a lack of interest on the part of James?

No, Sirius considered himself an excellent judge of whether or not someone might welcome his attentions. Sirius doubted very much that James had ever considered another man with prurient interest, but he was equally certain that he had not misread the way that James had glanced at him at dinner, the wit that had matched Sirius' rather blatant innuendo with a much more discreet yet certainly playful response.

'And clever, to boot,' Sirius thought, holding his almost-empty glass to the fire and watching the flames play through shifting hues of brown and amber and gold that brought to mind the color of the young Earl's eyes. Not merely moneyed, then, nor only handsome; his reputation, from what little Sirius knew of it, was spotless, thus Sirius had assumed that Lord Potter would be as dull as the lack of scandal implied. He was beginning to reconsider that assumption, the periodic gleam that flashed out from those hazel eyes indicating much more than the well-brought-up, easily-collared dullard that Sirius had guessed his parents would obtain for his sister.

"What a waste," Sirius murmured, and drained his glass. James Potter deserved so much more than Regina, with her petty jealousies and her unfulfilled ambitions… and perhaps Sirius would be able to provide it, at least for a little while. If Fate, and James, proved amenable.

The beginnings of an optimistic reverie were disturbed as the drawing-room door opened, and Sirius perked up momentarily before he saw that it was only Regina, disappointment leaving a bitter taste in his mouth before his indifferent smile was back in place. "Regina," Sirius greeted her. "Aren't you up late, dear sister. Roaming the corridors when we have a gentleman guest-- Isn't that a little risqué for your reputation?"

Regina ignored Sirius' jibe, her long skirts rustling as she strode up to Sirius. Regina's posture was perfect, a stark contrast to Sirius' easy lean against the mantelpiece, but her doll-like face was set in a distinctly unladylike way, her eyes stormy.

"Stay away from him," Regina ordered, and her authoritative tone was enough to make Sirius want to laugh, even as her resemblance to their mother had never shown more clearly.

"And by 'him,' you mean… ?" Sirius prompted, swallowing the laugh that would undoubtedly have escalated the situation. His restraint mattered little, as Regina would not be deterred.

"I saw him leaving," Regina said, and Sirius' urge to laugh dissipated almost instantly, one eyebrow lifting as Regina continued, "Lord Potter. He seemed--" Regina paused for a moment, as if she wasn't quite sure how to describe it, before she forged ahead.

"I know how you are, Sirius," Regina said instead, and a spark of irritation flared up in Sirius before he forced it away. Precocious little Regina, who could be just as sanctimonious as the Marchioness herself. "I know your… predilections." She said the word as if it were a curse, and Sirius reflected with bitter amusement that it was probably as close as Regina could come to acknowledging her brother's 'predilections.'

"Lord Potter is a most eligible prospect," Regina went on, "and a fortuitous one, given how you'll undoubtedly ruin our family out of nothing more than spite once you're Marquess. I won't have you ruin this, not after everything I've had to do to get this far."

Regina spoke about the promise of an engagement as if it were nothing more than a business affair, which was fair enough; certainly, Sirius knew that was how his parents viewed it, as the most pragmatic match his sister was likely to find. The Potters were noble, wealthy, and distant relations, to boot-- An Earl was not a Marquess, but everything else made it close enough. Even so, there was something slightly more emphatic about Regina's demand than was strictly called for, and Sirius' eyes narrowed as the flickering light glinted off the silver comb in Regina's hair. The ornament was unremarkable enough, perfectly suited for a young woman of her age and rank, but the apple blossom engraved upon its curved surface seemed significant, and its arc of matched topaz stones was reminiscent of firelight through fine cognac.

That was it, Sirius realized. Regina was, as ever, a dutiful daughter, but she was also ensuring her own future. As an unmarried woman, she would forever be reliant on Sirius' uncertain goodwill, but Lord Potter represented freedom from that reliance, an escape from her parents' house and the chance to be the mistress of her own, an identity beyond "Lord Black's unfortunate sister." Of course Regina would cling to her newfound suitor with all of the strength in her dainty hands.

Sirius briefly considered the matter, which, after all, would affect him very little. It would even make things easier on him if Regina were married by the time their father finally ceded his title, since Sirius would not have to provide for her. When he'd made the idle decision to return, Sirius had never intended to stay: What would it cost him to give Regina this, to bow to her demand and leave James Potter be?

Sirius considered it, and then he considered James, with those hazel eyes and that brilliant smile, something secretive at the corners of that bewitching mouth which seemed suited to more than simply smiling. Sirius prided himself on never letting lust cloud his better judgment, but there was more to his attraction to James than something so commonplace— something familiar. James Potter intrigued him.

"My apologies, dear sister," Sirius said at last, moving to refill his glass. "But I cannot grant your request. As you know, ruining things is a special talent of mine."

[sincerelystesichorus]

astarion, anne carson, & autobiography of red - small character study blurb

In which I've written 40k words of Astarion character analysis fanfiction and I'm definitely still normal.

Astarion used to be blue, but ever since that night two centuries ago, he was reborn red. And he had spent at least the past century thinking that red was irreplaceable. It was – red, it was in his blood and the little blood Cazador would let him wring from rats, corroded and stained. His very life force. He was Cazador’s, his spawn, his jewel, his ruby. There was no cure for red. Not until you became the successful means to an end. He had been sure of it. Being red wasn’t good. It made everyone who wasn’t red, and that felt like most everyone, stare at you like you put off a certain aura… like they knew you were a monster that could only act off of instinct and emotion. And it was so frustrating, because parts of Astarion were blue still, knew what was better, but they were nothing in comparison to the suffocation of red. The emotions, and especially anger, fear, came on so strong. It was hard not to act on them, to test out what the boundaries of pure action were. Astarion knew the color and impulse all too well.

I expand way more on the idea of people as colors within my writing than Autobiography of Red does, where Geryon is the only one who is red. This further pushes Geryon's feelings of being separated from humanity in his narrative, but there's a lot of inherent evil and fucked up things within Faerun so I felt expanding on colors and specifically shades/hues was a better way to communicate this for Astarion.

Geryon's red is tied very instinctually to emotion though, and so representing red as a chaotic force of emotion in my fic didn't feel like too far a step. I took a lot of inspiration from Magic: the Gathering's color pie lol. While you never get an exact description of what's wrong with Geryon, you get a lot of the symptoms, reminiscent of some sort of innate childhood mental illness, on top of the obvious trauma present in his story.

Back to Astarion, though. I've just never not been able to code him with CPTSD, I think that's obvious, but I also know that poor bastard has a personality disorder skffkjdf. The game always hammers in he has no sense of self outside of his looks, which he can't even be sure of because he can't see himself. Astarion has to work his confidence and self-image off of memories of his body and face from two centuries ago, and from his master's word. Cazador has assigned him to this seduction role (or, I feel its at least implied that Astarion was ultimately forced into it because he was seen as the Szarr runt, he was pretty and easy to push around, and I'm also pretty sure Petras has a line about getting to eat dogs now and then?) and Astarion fulfills it because it's all he can do. All he feels good for. His actions aren't his own for two hundred years, and in a morbid way of coping with constant sexual trauma, he functions off of "Well, at least I'm pretty," but even that assumption comes from Cazador's rule.

Astarion had decided he was mostly pure red, splashes of black and blue coming in, bright and visible. The remnants of his past and an even deeper level of Cazador’s corruption, bruising his psyche.

Carson is again sparing with other color imagery as to fully emphasize Geryon feeling like this big red monster, but I love this little excerpt on fearful anger.

Black/shadow is already a strong force and theme within the game so it was easy to work with, acknowledging it as a sort of staining evil. Astrion has his later lines about how he never stopped viewing himself as Cazador's slave, and I think showing that corruption is obviously important. He's hurt but can still heal (as opposed to an ascended Astarion... who I have little if any hope for sdfkjdskf).

Cazador had spent the last two centuries branding it into his skin and mind, breaking his psyche to the point Astarion was worried there’d always be little cracks that remained. That he’d always be Cazador’s wilted poppy, ashamed and folding in on himself, his neck miserably drooped aside for the taking. 

Cazador is Astarion's Herakles, and I think that metaphor works even better considering that whole little side lore with Vellioth in the ruins. Herakles kills Geryon because he must, Geryon is a way for Herakles to ultimately reach a life free of consequence, but it's not like Herakles is innately malicious in the act. He is hardened after already facing so many labors and the trauma that was forced on him by Hera that induced his journey in the first place.

Cazador wants power, some part of him is probably truly convinced he's easier on his spawn than Vellioth was to him (a lot of insults to Astarion are about his feelings and "whining", Cazador feels vindicated in his trauma and is far gone), and sacrificing Astarion is simply a part of that journey. There is no world where their destinies do not intertwine. Geryon will always be pierced by Herakles, and Astarion wouldn't be the Astarion we know without being pierced by Cazador (and without his ultimate decision to finally separate himself from him, or to become him.) Astarion, understandably, will never not feel some sort of shame or agony over this moment, from natural emotions and I'm sure years of Cazador victim-blaming him. He consented to Cazador's help that night after all, didn't he? (And we simply won't acknowledge the coercion.)

Astarion’s attempts to prolong the inevitable were shattered by thick layers of stone suddenly slamming in front of his face, muffling sound and casting him into a void. He could hardly hear Cazador’s foul laugh as he departed. Astarion waited all night for Cazador to return. And then all of the next day, and the next one after that. Days became weeks. Weeks became months. Astarion started to agree that dying would have been easier. More peaceful. He had pondered hundreds of ways to attempt to kill himself while stuck in this abyss, the voices that had started developing only giving further inspiration, but it was impossible. He was sure.  All he could do was wait. Beat and claw at the stone around him. Curse. Repeat. Sometimes he'd wonder. If he'd ever get out of here. If Cazador would remember after forgetting. If this would be his forever. The voices began to recite to him again. Just how long eternity can be.

I think this is the greatest and most obvious similarity between these two, within Carson's retelling. Geryon feels somehow trapped and doomed by the narrative from his early childhood, and receives some blunt confirmation of it when he faces early sexual abuse. This affects his entire life, his early relationships. Geryon can't be older than ten in this excerpt, but knows the pain of isolation because of his trauma and for feeling different.

Astarion was plucked up by Cazador right out of law school. While for us it's not all that young, for elves he was fiercely immature, basically just starting to come into himself at his first big-boy job. Astarion was likely raised with a lot of privilege that also made him a bit more naive, his book smarts not meeting street smarts, which has him meet his end. In his undeath, that basically flips, Astarion plays his manipulation games and indulges in petty crime and seduction, unable to dedicate himself to studies. He reads and he's witty, but can you imagine the Astarion we know as a judge? It's giving Divorce Court. It's giving Judge Judy. (Honestly maybe that's what got him whacked in the first place.)

Astarion is already constrained to what Cazador lets him be as a slave. He's less than a person, and his own body is one of his greatest trauma sources.

All of this, to be punished so supremely when making an act of slight self-preservation. Astarion wanting to maintain some of his principles and let someone go. It becomes his greatest regret, his worst and most defining punishment. It's how Cazador breaks him.

I restructure some of the circumstances within my fic, as to better tie in the main romance, but it still functions as a punished act of self-preservation for Astarion. I'm also sure most people are familiar with the pain that solitary confinement can bring, but if not, it's genuinely inhumane and dehumanizing. Lack of stimulation is extremely damaging to the psyche, I wrote in Astarion breaking into psychotic episodes while enclosed, but even in game, he speaks about going catatonic. I'm sure minorly from exhaustion after fighting, but also from the isolation. His mind likely just drifted and dissociated beyond belief, and I can't imagine it. This is my favorite piece of Astarion's story we are given, it really is just so pivotal and heartbreaking, to be punished for having freewill in the most objectifying circumstances.

In summary to Astarion Ancunin I just sorta feel like this I guess...

ddfsdfdk but yeah just emo about my poor boy feeling so weird and disconnected yet so drowned in his own emotions you know...

[my homage to autobiography of red, fic series page, my ao3 page]

[daybreak-academy-fanfic]

Every step forward: Entry 22

Summary: In a canon divergent mini-series that will probably never end; Sabrina’s Nobody is told by Xemnas to keep watch on Antiform Sora in the days leading up to the Keyblade War. Through journal entries, the nihilistic Nobody relates how Antiform struggles to be between light and darkness, how they dodge the remaining members of the Guardians of Light, and how weirdly attached the two get over the course of several months. First | Previous | Next

AO3 link: here

☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

XXII: Self Projection

Vanitas gave us a little visit today. He said it was to check in on the beast’s progress- he and I both knew better the moment he actually looked at the cursed creature. Vanitas had gone deathly silent as he looked the beast over. He never brought down his helmet to show the growing hurt and hatred he had. The Unversed did that for him- a whole army appearing around us in moments time.

Then he spat at it. Declared the creature a failure, a broken heart. I wonder how much he was self projecting. The face Vanitas claims was that of Sora’s before all of this. I’ll spare details as they will be repeated elsewhere. Not that I can’t see the frustration. This heart was supposed to be strong enough to heal another. This heart gave Vanitas an identity when he was nothing more than a faceless puppet for Xehanort. Now it is a creature of darkness. Now it is a beast that acts only on instinct. It could be rather disheartening if you cared enough.

And I do not.

Some time after, we exchanged a few words of meaningless flattery with each other. My Other and the missing half of Vanitas had a certain level of chemistry. As Vanitas can feel what his Half has felt, a measure of adoration has been kept alive. I could care less about that connection either way. Vanitas gets a good ego stroke if I indulge him. Hearing his pleased smirk is an absent joy.

When I asked if he would grace us with his presence again, he immediately looked to the creature. He never gave an answer.

But we all know what he would have said.

[ant1quar1an]

Massacre(Sans) x Reader Headcannons

Very rough sketch, so ignore the fact it’s crap. It’s just a concept sketch. ^

NOTE: MURDERTALE!Sans (or Dust) does not belong to me at ALL. Similarly, but not the same, Eldritch!MURDERTALE!Sans doesn’t belong COMPLETELY to me, as it is an AU of someone else's AU, but the character concept is mine.

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood/death, genocide, having a genocidal maniac as a boyfriend, weapons(?), dude’s got a sharp tail so I guess that counts? Also Angst, I think???

So, with that out of the way, incase you didn’t know, I’ve got “Eldritch” versions of the Sans’ and Papyrus’ AU’s… meaning that there’s a Eldritch version of every Sans and Papyrus I’ve come across, and every one I’ve made.

For more clarity on what, exactly, an Eldritch Skeleton is, there’s a post on my account that will tell you all about my little idea and its concepts.

Massacre, your datemate in this scenario, is the Eldritch version of Dust- or “Murder Sans”. So do enjoy.

- Okay, first off, this dude is EXTREMELY anti-social, and HIGHLY genocidal- even more so than the unEldritch version of him. 

- So how, in the ever-living shit, did this even happen in the first place?

- Anyway

- Starting with things that would be nice in this relationship…

- Well, he’s actually very kind. Not verbally- he doesn’t speak very often- but he’s always looking out for you. You’re his datemate, how can he not?

- Protective, yes, and this can be rather frustrating sometimes because he does, at times, tend to go overboard

- But for a dude who’s now immune to RESETS and has killed everyone he ever cared about just for peace of mind from the lil’ shit that slaughtered them all over and over, I’m actually shocked he hasn’t put you on complete house arrest.

- If he’s in this relationship with you, he is completely serious about it.

- Manz isn’t the type to fuck around. He’s straight-up, and is often viewed to be brutally honest. 

- He no longer cares about how anyone sees him, or how much really bad shit he’s done, he just takes it in his stride.

- Cocky at times, and proud underneath the hood that overshadows his entire face. He’s a Elskel (Eldritch Skeleton), it’s in their magic makeup.

- This being said, he sort of holds you on a pedestal, so he has no problems doing anything you ask at any given moment.

- … Within reason, of course.

- Now, onto the negative things you’ll have to deal with in the relationship- because lets be honest, no true relationship is completely without flaws.

- … When I said he was antisocial..? I actually meant that you should not, under any circumstances, force him to go out in a large crowd or even leave him alone for too long in a crowded place.

- I mean, unless you want to come back to a bunch of gorey shit and unrecognisable corpses everywhere because his instincts kicked in.

- HOWEVER, even if you do come back to that, he’ll literally just act like a guilty puppy. The sight of you coming back- his datemate, which he could not hurt IN THE SLIGHTEST (intentionally, that is) without feeling like he’s willingly tearing his soul (or, therefore, lack of) in two- and he’ll just rub the back of his skull with one of his undoubtedly blood-covered hands and grimace.

- Know that he loves you unconditionally, alright? He doesn’t usually say it- in fact, he doesn’t usually talk- but he really, really does.

- This being said, do not bring up Papyrus.

- For an explaination, y’know how Dust’s Papyrus encourages him to kill more?

- Well Massacre has gone so far that his Papyrus is literally deathly afraid of him.

- You will NOT catch this phantom in the same vicinity as Massacre, even though he has to be a certain distance away to even exist (because he runs off of Massacre’s magic).

- Although Massacre doesn’t mind explaining about his biology- how his void magic works ‘n all that stuff- he really doesn’t like bringing up his past in an in-depth sense.

- As passingly mentioned before, he doesn’t feel guilt for his actions- with his LV, he literally can’t. But he doesn’t like to think of it, because it reminds him of the little shit that he slaughtered hundreds of thousands of times over and over until they finally gave up. (It came to a point where the reset would literally just revive them and throw them back into their save area, but it wouldn’t return anything to life and it couldn’t change the code or the values of LV or EXP. Therefore, Massacre became fully resistant to ALL and ANY RESET used.)

- In other words, it makes him real pissed off, makes him miss Papyrus, and sharpens his instincts to a point where he becomes aloof for several days.

- Oh, and that leads us to our next thing.

- When you guys argue, expect the silent treatment. I mean, he’s usually real quiet ‘n shit, but broseph will straight up just ignore you.

- He knows it’s bad, but for the love of fuck he can’t let his pride and stubbornness go for the life of him.

- So unless you initiate it- or he sees you crying about it (In which all of his sins will begin to crawl on his back…) don’t expect him to apologise.

- There are exceptions to this- like if he realises he was in the wrong (but, like, really in the wrong)- then he will.

- Similarly, if some skeleton or monster brings it to his attention that he’s just being fucking stupid- specifically his younger(?), less-genocidal counterpart, Dust- then he will apologise.

- When he apologises, it’s a spur of the moment thing, but it’s always when you two are alone. And he will apologise for every single small thing he realised he was being petty and prideful about, down to the very last miniscule detail (Like stealing a chip from a bag of your favourite chips you were eating, for example). 

- Generally, it’d go something like this:

It had been at least a week since your argument with Massacre, and it had been at least a week since he’d decided he was going to completely ignore your existence.

Let’s just say, you never knew how much of a stubborn, prideful, tall shit your ever-loving, mass-genocidal datemate could be.

You were tired of it, but you, too, were stubborn. Far too stubborn to walk up to him and force him to apologise for being overreactive about going out with your friends that one night and staying out a couple hours later than when you said you’d get home.

You grimaced lightly, remembering the severely pissed off look he’d had in his eyes when he’d come to get you from where you guys were hanging out.

Considering the crowd, you were shocked that he’d even gone through with it without even murdering someone… or at least you were somewhat sure that he hadn’t.

Massacre was very easily capable of stealthily killing someone. So you could never be completely sure.

Shadows covered the large majority of the messy room you were in, moonlight streaming through the windows, catching on the soft grey curtains. On most of the flat, unused surfaces lay a fine layer of dust. Neither you or Massacre got caught up in a cleaning spree strong enough to get rid of it.

Faintly, you remember walking into the room to see him staring silently at the dust. Must have reminded him of something in his past.

Shifting on the comfortable, plush blankets underneath you, you took in a deep breath, feeling a weird mixture of irritation and comfort run throughout your system.

Massacre's scent clinged strongly to many things he came in contact with- even more so than any regular Elskel or Skeleton. An unusual metallic smell mixed with a hint of dampness and woodsmoke.

A presence not far behind you made you slowly roll over, only to see the all-too-familiar silhouette of your datemate leaning against the doorframe, both his arms crossed as his deadly-sharp tail shifted slightly from where it was loosely wrapped around his leg.

A heavy silence hung in the air like thick, black smoke. You stared emptily at Massacre, waiting for him to speak. His eyelights studied your face, the unusual but pretty contrast of blue against red catching your eye like they always did. Finally, a gentle sigh was pulled from his throat before he cleared it- how so, you’d asked once, considering it was bone. His answer had simply been “magic.”- and spoke. When he did, his voice was slightly rough and edged from underuse. Despite this, it managed to be that comforting baritone that you’d come to love.

“‘M sorry,” Massacre muttered, staring down at the paper in his hands which had a list of all of the things he’d done that was stupid, “I’m sorry for takin’ you away from your time with your friends ‘cause you didn’t come home when y’ said ya would. ‘M sorry for killin’ that dude the other week ‘cause of the way he was lookin’ at ya. ‘M sorry for acting out rashly without thought. ‘M sorry I’ve been gone so much ‘cause I've been busy a bunch lately. ‘M sorry I ate the bit of your favourite food the other week ‘cause I was too lazy to go grocery shopping ‘r to order from UT’s Grillby-”

He stopped, his eyelights abruptly shooting up to your smiling form when you cleared your throat. Both of your eyebrows were raised, a smirk ever present on your face. He knew you found this part of the apology adorable, and the very thought of you finding him- Dust’s far more genocidal, far more dangerous counterpart- adorable sent a fuzzy feeling alight in his SOUL and a purple, glowing blush to his cheekbones.

Suddenly, Massacre found the hardwood underfoot very interesting.

“You’re alright. Wish you’d apologise sooner, though,” You smiled at him, both arms spread as you invited him for cuddles, “And I was in the wrong this time, I should have at least messaged you to tell you that I was going to stay with them later. Though, you really have to stop with this whole ‘Ignoring-you-now’ thing. It gets tiring.”

Massacre hesitated for a moment before walking over to the bed, flicking the door closed behind him with his tail, before flopping onto your shared bed and placing his chin atop your head as he wrapped you up in a hug, “‘M sorry. I’ll try not to.”

You brushed the dust off of his turtleneck before it could go up your nose with a little chuckle, “It’s alright. Can we just sleep now, please?”

Massacre could not have been more happy to comply, the surprising weight of his arm around you comforting the both of you. Minutes before you fell into your own sleep, you could hear the soft, deep snores coming from him, gently rattling his ribcage.

With a final smile, you let sleep have you, giving into that heavy feeling that readily consumed your body.

- Yeah anyway, just a thought. (P.S, that was NOT meant to be that long.)

- ANYWAY

- Another negative- or positive, if you have insomnia or any sort of trouble sleeping- is the fact that, how his Void magic works, is that it consumes the magic of other sources around him, right?

- Which means, effectively, that his soul feeds off of yours. This often ends in you being quite tired after an hour or so of straight physical contact.

- This being said, once you two SOULBOND? There’ll be enough magic in between the both of you that having loads of physical contact with him doesn’t tire either of you out unless both of you want it to happen. (In other words, it becomes like a switch. You could turn it on or off.)

- Yeah, I think that’s about it.

Have fun with your new skeleboy! (Or Elskeboy? Dunno man. You choose)

[ell-vellan]

WIP Wednesday

My first little BG3 drabble as I get used to everyone's voice! Not sure if I'll go anywhere with this, but it's fun to play around.

Summary: Folk hero Tav (Safiel) frustrates Astarion to no end. One evening, she asks him why.

Tagging if anyone has anything to share! @thebookworm0001 @shretl (happy birthday! 🎈) @thegoblinwitchqueen I consistently forget which of my mutuals is a writer/artist so if you want to share something, please do and tag me in it so I can see/remember!

---

"Astarion, why does it bother you that I help people?"

Astarion startled out of his book. The silly little half-elf was looking over at him with those unsettling, mismatched eyes of hers. He tittered. "Oh, my dear, I'm quite certain you don't want my honest opinion."

But she was undeterred. "By all means, go ahead. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

Astarion sighed shortly and snapped his book shut. For all her ditzy naiveté and sickeningly sweet do-goodedness, the girl had let him tag along with her and the snooty cleric and the fearsome githyanki, increasing his odds of survival at least a tad. She'd been a useful tool so far, hadn't blinked when he fessed up to being a vampire after she'd caught him (almost) red-handed, and had even offered her neck willingly with that wide-eyed conviction of the young and foolhardy who haven't yet learned how the world works.

He studied her for a moment. She never seemed put off by his fits of temper, even when he was trying to annoy her. Either she was just that dense, or she had incredibly poor survival instincts, which seemed an unlucky trait for a druid.

If he hadn't needed a source of fresh blood and someone to watch his back out here in the sunlight, he wouldn't have thought twice about slitting her throat. Even after he quite nearly gutted her, she had acted as though he'd behaved with perfectly reasonable self-preservation, and forgiven him immediately. 

But she was going to earn herself – and worse, him – a knife in the back if she didn't learn. And quickly.

Fool child. It rubbed him the wrong way.

And yet...

"My dear, simply that there are a million reasons why we should not waste what very little tentacle-free time we may have left on the plights of strangers, and I cannot think of a single reason why we should."

"We seem fairly tentacle-free so far. And if I happen upon someone who could use my help, why wouldn't I at least try?"

He gaped at her, flabbergasted. "Why wouldn't you – perhaps it has crossed your mind that we are risking our lives for random passers-by who could not be arsed to give a single shit about us in return? Fine, fine, do a few jobs if you need coin, if you must. But for free?"

She just looked at him placidly, a little smile on her face that annoyed him. "I had a wildcat once. A kitten, really – I found him, orphaned and half dead. He bit me when I tried to heal him, and bit me every time I fed him. But I didn't mind. I knew that to him, I was very big, and he was very small and scared, and he was only doing what he felt he needed to do to survive. I chose to help him even knowing I would be bitten, and scratched, and that perhaps he would never come to see me as a friend no matter how much kindness I showed him. But I couldn't walk away from something in pain knowing I could do something to ease it."

Astarion glared at her, but she either didn't notice or didn't care. "Is there a point to this frustratingly saccharine monologue, or can I return to my book?"

"You remind me of him," she quipped, a teasing glint in her eye when he, predictably, glowered at the comparison. 

"I am the disheveled bitey kitten you scooped up and fed scraps to? My dear, your analogy has a few holes."

Safiel laughed and tossed another branch into the fire. "I know. I didn't say it was perfect, only that you reminded me of him."

"Darling, I am no one's pet."

"He was never my pet. He was a wild creature. When he was well enough, he fled back to the woods where he belonged. I never planned nor attempted to tame him."

He eyed her suspiciously. "You see, this is precisely my point. Did you never think that perhaps one day, the fully grown wildcat you so lovingly wasted your energy on would pounce out of a tree and make you its dinner?"

"Of course I considered that. But should that day come, it would only be acting according to its nature. And if I couldn't defend myself, it would be fully within its rights to eat me."

Astarion glared. "You may not mind taking foolish risks with your life. In fact, I would encourage it! If my own fate was not so terribly twisted up with yours."

Safiel shrugged. "You're free to continue on your own way whenever you like, Astarion. I don't mind that you disagree with me. And I understand your reasoning better now – thank you for answering my question. I'll do better to consider that lives other than my own are also at stake here, and take your point of view into account in the future."

Well, Astarion did not know quite what to do with that. He couldn't remember the last time someone had thanked him for his opinion, or promised to take it under advisement. Not honestly, at least. 

"I don't want to take actions that others are uncomfortable with. Everyone has their opinions on the best course of action. But we all have the same very dire problem, so I hope we can find a way to work together. And to help each other."

Gods, she was so ready to believe they could all be a happy little family. And he truly believed her to be perfectly truthful about all of this.

What fairytale grove had she come from where life was all sunshine and rainbows? 

Astarion threw up his hands, book clutched in one of them, and made a frustrated sound. "Well, yes, I would agree to that. Our odds are certainly better together. If we don't spend our remaining hours saving kittens and starving little orphans."

Safiel had the gall to laugh. She inspected a branch in her hand, stripping off the leaves idly. "A reasonable request. But let me ask you – isn't it just as likely that one day, we may come to need help, and someone else may come along to offer it without expectation of reward? That the good we do now for others may find its way back to us?"

Astarion sputtered, speechless with outrage. "No!"

Safiel grinned at him. "Then you have not spent much time around druids, I imagine."

She actually winked at him. Then stood, brushed off her knees, and sashayed away to chat with Shadowheart, still smiling. 

"Ridiculous," Astarion muttered, rolling his eyes as he opened his book again. His eyes tracked her retreating form, wondering if people this empty-headed actually survived into adulthood, or if it was some sort of long con she was playing. If the latter, he had never seen such a good actor. "Absolutely absurd. Going to get us all killed, that naive child."

But still…he snuck one last glance up at her from beneath his lashes, scowling, wondering. 

[mistressofthemanor]

masterofthemanor

Even without hearing her disheartened tone of voice he felt the dissonance within himself, however, her answer sealed the deal for them and while he could have been relieved that his plan worked out and the looming threat of being uncovered had momentarily dissipated, he wasn't relaxed or content with the situation he'd driven them into. Every fibre of his body was protesting under the weight of the discomfort in the wake of his conscious actions to distance himself from her for the time being and it wasn't beneficial for his fundamental, social skills either, for just as much as she'd visibly struggled to connect to him in that moment, he'd found it difficult himself to figure out how to continue and what else to introduce that could possibly keep the conversation flowing, if not improve it and create a wholesome atmosphere... If only he didn't have to hide himself... If only he could've been careless and offered her what he wanted to give of himself. He dreaded that he had to constantly be mindful of what he'd said and where it'd land them at... Everything was so much better before he'd become vary and measured- while he'd followed his instincts and allowed the chemistry and the dynamics between them to form the outcome. It was so effortless to be with her when he was acting like his true self, and he wished for nothing more, but to be able to do that again, however, without being sure about how she'd take the news and act once he'd confessed, he feared that might never occur again. "I had a feeling you haven't forgotten!" He stated, offering her one of his most charming smiles before continuing. "It still baffles me how we've ended up on that land... and how nice everyone was to us, welcoming us instead of chasing us off from the property" He chuckled, recalling their trip and how he'd convinced Narcissa it'd be a good idea if he rented a motorcycle and they'd explored the nearby area that way to blend in. Naturally, despite speaking fluent Italian, they'd managed to get lost at some point and accidentally driven onto someone's private farm.

This wasn't at all what she had expected. She didn't understand this. Even his charming smile made her feel something was off. Could she be overthinking things? Perhaps she just misread something but she had fully anticipated that he would return the flirtatious behavior. Was he doing this on purpose? Was he truly oblivious? Surely not! For goodness sakes, my towel even slipped down and I know he saw that! She let out a soft sigh as she glanced down into her tea, as if she was hoping for the liquid to tell her a clear sign as to what was going on. Narcissa expected silence to fall between Lucius and herself but strangely enough, he continued on about these stupid strawberries. She didn't intend to get frustrated by the fact that he seemed to be more interested in these strawberries rather than her, and she bit the inside of her cheek at the realization of how bothered she was by it. Trying to push away her thoughts, she listened to his memories of that trip. He was right about how strange that day had been and she recalled it with ease. "First, you suggested we ride a motorcycle which I was appalled at....I was certain you or I would be hurt by the end of the day. I think you suggested that just to get me to hold onto you a bit tighter since you liked having me so close to you," she smirked, hoping he would follow her lead a bit. "But when we ended up on that farm...I thought that was it for us. We'd be arrested for trespassing--or worse--but they were so unbelievably nice. It was refreshing....and honestly made the experience so much better. That was not how I expected to end the day doing but it was...it is a fond memory."

Bones of Contention

[jellyfishright]

At A Distance, Spring Is Green -BL Version (Yeo Jun x Nam Soo Hyun): Chapter 3 : To Judge And Be Judged

Yeo Jun was walking from the quad, heading to his next class when he spotted a familiar car.

That Whiter Mercedes E Class looked like---- The horn that honked next was just a little more proof and if that wasn't enough, he as absolutely sure when the door opened and the driver alighted.

Today he was wearing all black, his dark hair swept across his forehead, sitting atop brown eyes that never wore any kind of emotion.

"Jun Wan" The name just came instinctively to his lips. He looked at that stoic face "Are you here to see me?"

"Like that'll ever happen." that monotone responded.

Jun felt a pang in his chest. "Figures.There's no reason for you to come see me."

"I've been transferred here." his older brother informed him. "I'll start giving lectures next week." Jun didn't respond. "Pretend like you don't know me." This string of words was a directive.

With nothing else to say, Jun Wan turned and left.

Yeo Jun stood in place and watched him go. Only when that car had disappeared, did he finally release the breath he wasn't even aware he'd been holding.Seeing Jun Wan appear so suddenly had rattled him a little. In this moment he wasn't focused on anything but that brief interaction so he was completely oblivious to the pair of eyes watching from under a straight bang.

The next Day

The sound of his alarm roused him from slumber.

6:00 am.

Soo Hyun rolled out of bed, using every ounce of his willpower not to cover himself once more with the blanket.

To say he was tired would be an understatement. He'd returned from his shift at the mini mart a little after 2 a.m. It seemed he'd only just closed his eyes and it was already time to wake up and get going.

Get going he did if he didn't want to miss bus to take him to university's shuttle pickup spot or the shuttle bus to the university that would get him to class on time.

He hurriedly showered, got dressed and grabbed everything he would need for the day ahead.

Thankfully he managed to catch his bus on time.During the 30 minute ride, Soo Hyun's eyes drooped and he nodded off more than a couple of times, desperate for just one more wink of sleep.

When he exited that bus, he sprinted to the designated spot for the university shuttle. He checked his watch. 8:01. He would make it in time.

CLASS CANCELLATION NOTICE.

The words sat in the middle of the sheet posted on the door.

Soo Hyun heaved a heavy sigh. After all he'd gone through to get here.

"Soo Hyun." a voice called out to him as he stood staring at the sign. He turned slowly to look at Yeo Jun "Gosh.If I had known, I would have slept in.Right?"

Without a word, Soo Hyun walked away.

"Now that I think about it. I haven't really thank you." Jun walked after him. "I could have gotten into big trouble that night if it had not been for you. Thanks for helping."

Soo Hyun was frustrated. He suddenly stopped walking and turned to the one being a pest.

"I get that you're used to people being kind to you but I wasn't trying to help you. You have an overinflated ego."

Yeo Jun looked at him. "So were you helping that girl? Soo Bin?"

Soo Hyun resumed walking down the hall.

"Gosh.How annoying." he heard the words from Yeo Jun that stopped him in his tracks.He turned to face him once more. "The way you look at me as if you know everything." He gazed at Soo Hyun in a way he'd never done before "It's disgusting."  Soo Hyun tilted his head thoughtfully to the side. He had his attention.

"You're so crooked you won't even accept other people's acts of kindness." Yeo Jun continued  "How dare you judge me? You don't know anything about me." That smile of his was gone and his voice now had a certain chill to it Soo Hyun had never heard before. "What gives you the right?" He wasn't really asking "I treated you like my senior because I pitied you, but you disgust me."

They held each other's gazes for a few moments before something truly strange happened.

"That's better." Soo Hyun replied, his lips pulling into a smile that disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. "It was hard seeing you act so pretentious."

They were back to holding each other's gazes.

This staredown was only interrupted by the sudden appearance of Kim Soo Bin who seemed to be running breathless to the shared class that was now cancelled.

With Soo Bin's arrival Soo Hyun turned on his heels and left, without a backward glance.Yeo Jun watched that dark head of hair leave, as he had done what seemed like countless times now.

It was roughly 10 am when Soo Hyun made it back to the apartment he shared with his younger brother.

"You're early."Nam Koo Hyun greeted his brother as he ate the noodles he'd just cooked. "Hold on." He looked at Soo Hyun and realized he was wet. "Didn't you have an umbrella?You should have called me."

Soo Hyun inspected himself. "It was just a drizzle."

"Have you eaten?"

Soo Hyun looked first at his brother and then at the little table in their crappy apartment. He was eating cheap noodles and canned fish.

Suddenly, he was hit with a memory centered on that person with gleaming golden hair. The way he'd effortlessly handed 100,000.00 to Soo Hyun that day after class. His heart itched.

"I guess you haven't." Koo Hyun pulled him back to the present. "I'll make you some ramyeon." His brother stood to his feet.

"Koo Hyun,Why don't we  order something nice today?"

Koo Hyun's face lit up. "Really? Is it a special occasion?"

"Order what you want." He instructed

"Sweet!" His brother didn't hesitate to pick up the phone to begin dialling.

A little smile graced Soo Hyun's lips as he looked at his brother.If it was even this much, atleast he could do it.

"Remember to chew." Soo Hyun admonished as he watched his brother devouring the takeout with gusto.

"Is it a special occasion?" Koo Hyun asked, with a mouth full of noodles. "Is someone adopting me?"

"As if anyone would." teased

"Better me than you." his brother teased back before stuffing a piece of chicken into his already full mouth.

Soo Hyun smiled, enough to show the dimples not many people knew he had since he rarely smiled.

"Koo-Hyun."

His brother slowed his eating and looked up at him "The deeper tone is worrying me."

"I'm sorry."

"About what?"

Koo Hyun was suddenly exasperated as he looked at his older brother. "Darn it.You're wearing my underwear again aren't you." he accused.

Soo Hyun smiled again. "Just eat up."

His brother sprang to his feet. "I'm right. Get over here."

Soo Hyun darted to his feet and dashed around the table to evade his brother's clutches. "Is it my favourite?" Koo Hyun questioned.

"Stop it." Soo Hyun continued to avoid being caught.

"Give it back then." Koo Hyun whined, forgetting about the food as he chased his brother around the tiny apartment.

The two laughed as they each dodged the other's clutches. Outside the rain continued to blanket their window.

After Koo Hyun had stuffed himself silly, he decide to take a nap. It was still raining but Soo Hyun decided to take a walk.

Grabbing his umbrella, he left the little apartment and headed outside with no particular destination in mind.

He was glad he could have bought good food for Koo Hyun to enjoy today. Sadly, it was not an opportunity that would come often, simply because he couldn't afford to. He still had parts of his tuition fees, books, his father's debts, rent and both his mother and Koo Hyun to take care of.

Soo Hyun wasn't sure why that guy had suddenly popped into his head. Maybe at that moment he wished that he too could just pull out 100,000 that freely.

Tsk. He clicked his tongue. Fate had not dealt him such a fortune.

Finding himself in an alleyway, he sat under an open verandah and shuttered his umbrella.

That guy. That guy and his words floated back to him like spectres.

"I know you had alot of pride, but you're actually pretty insecure."

"You're so crooked you won't even accept other people's acts of kindness."

"How dare you judge me? You don't know anything about me. What gives you the right?" 

"I treated you like my senior because I pitied you, but you disgust me."

Those words. What was with him and those words? Soo Hyun had never cared what other people thought about him before. That was also mainly because though he knew what people said of him and behind his back, no one had confronted him the way Yeo Jun had.

Soo Hyun frowned as he continued to watch the rain.

"Don't drink too much guys!"

"Cheers." 

The people at Yeo Jun's table clinked their glasses for the millionth time.

Jun downed the contents in his glass,feeling like this cup in his hand-----empty.

With a dazed expression he watched the group, each person at  a different stage of drunkenness.

"We're out of booze right?" Chun Guk lifted the bottle to confirm. After which he called out for two more bottles to be brought.

"Are you anxious?"  Those words suddenly floated back to him

"You need everyone to like you,but I get on your nerves." 

"The way that you act like you know me is revolting." Jun thought to himself

"That's better. It was hard seeing you act so pretentious." And he had actually smiled.

What was with him and those words? Who did he think he was ?

"Once more! Let's raise our glasses!" His table got rowdy again with the new batch of drinks.

He pulled himself from his musings , affixed his smile and clinked his glass.

What did that guy know about him?

"You're going already?" Koo Hyun questioned as he watched his brother gathering his things. "But you worked all night."

Soo Hyun put another book in his bag. "I can sleep on the bus."

He'd just finished when something caught his eye on the shelf. Shifting the container sitting atop it, he retrieved the book. Criminal Law Case Studies.

Soo Hyun sighed deeply.

"What's this?"

Koo Hyun grabbed the book, hiding it behind his back.

"Tell me."

"It's none of your business."

"Unbelievable." He looked at his watch. Delaying any further would put him in a world of problems. "We'll talk about this later."

"Mom already knows." Koo Hyun announced as Soo Hyun was leaving. He turned and looked at his brother. "She approved and said I could talk to you.I didn't because I knew you'd be against it."��

"What about college?" Soo Hyun asked.

"I don't go to a fancy one like you do and can't get scholarships.Graduating a dingy school with mediocre grades won't help me find  job."

"The police academy is no joke." Soo Hyun pointed out. "You'll also need money for classes.So just finish college and ---"

Koo Hyun didn't allow him to finish. "Say what you want, but i've made up my mind.I'm moving into a gosiwon next month." 

"Koo Hyun!"

His baby brother ignored him.Sitting at his desk, he put his headphones on.

Soo Hyun sighed.

His journey to school was unsettling . Knowing what his brother planned to do next yanked him by the collar into the past.

Back to that coffin laden with flowers with that smiling face in uniform looking at him while tears streamed down his face.Back to the dejected faces of his mother and younger brother as they sat in the corner of the room.

This wasn't where his problems had begun, but this one event had made his life infinitely worse.Still. What was the point of pitying himself?Neither his, nor the pity of anyone else ever made is life any better.

The world doesn't want to see what youth really looks like.

It's why we can only imitate what grown-ups do by following the rules to a certain point and not wasting our time

We put on a mask on top of the mask we're already wearing and try ever so hard to keep our rue selves hidden.

Spring has always been just a rumor since we're constantly stuck in winter.

Class was back insession the following day and Yeo Jun presented himself early.Meeting Kim Soo Bin at the door, they walked in together amidst the ogling eyes and blushings cheeks that were commonplace whenever girls saw him.

"Jun!" Gung-ho called out to him from his usual place.

"Hi." he waved to his friends. Having seen that Soo Hyun had already arrived, Jun took the empty seat beside him.

Gung-Ho and Chun Guk exchanged glances but they would not be defeated.

"Jun! Jun!" they kept calling. "We saved you a seat."

Soo Hyun, whose head was laid on the desk until now, looked up and glanced at Jun.

"Sorry about that." Yeo Jun replied to his friends. "But I forgot my contacts today."

Soo Hyun was still looking at him.

"Oh." he turned his attention to Soo Hyun. "I brought coffee. It's to apologize to you for last time. I was out of line." He took the cup and placed it before him. "Enjoy the coffee and forget it happened."

Nam Soo Hyun looked at him before retrieving his backpack and moving one seat ahead.When he was safely away from Yeo Jun, he rested his head on the desk once more.

The professor arrived shortly thereafter and the class passed uneventfully. From his place behind Soo Hyun, looked at the back of that head. He also looked at his profile whenever he turned his head ever so slightly. Regardless of his bad personality, he really was handsome. The way his hair sat just above his brow, the flawless slope of his nose.Even his ears were kind of cute.

If he had a more agreeable personality, Jun was sure he would be more popular -- for the right reasons.

Yeo Jun watched the way Soo Hyun held his pen. The way he seemed to be paying rapt attention and taking notes was fascinating.

"Anyway. That's all for today's class." Professor Park announced, signalling the end of the session. "Oh. That reminds me.I forgot to mention this during the last class but I am assigning you team projects for your mid-term evaluation."

There was a collective groan from the class.

"Quiet." The professor settled his students. "I'll let you choose your team though and the project can be about anything.The team leader will inform me of the topic you choose next week and we'll draw names to determine the order of the presentations."

The student groaned again, complaints abounding.

"What about those with no friends in this class?" a student asked.

"Sometimes life boils down to the connections you have." Professor Park replied. "The experience of forcing yourself to team up with other students who share the same goal will become an asset." 

Yeo Jun raised his hand. "But professor. I'm a freshman."

"Isn't this class for juniors?"

"It is." Soo Hyun confirmed 

"Which is why I should be teamed up with someone who gets good grades." Jun spoke up.

"He must be referring to Soo Hyun." Professor Park observed, scratched the back of his neck, his lollipop sticking artfully between his fingers. He looked at Soo Hyun.  "He's your responsibility now." Yeo Jun smiled.

"Professor that's---" Soo Hyun began to object.

Another voice was similarly raised. 

"Professor!" Gung-ho raised his hand. "I'll lead Jun to a good grade."

Yeo Jun's smile evaporated.

"You Han Gung-ho? Professor Park stuck his lollipop back into his mouth.

"I'm old enough to know what I'm doing."

"Soo Hyun. You now have another member on your team. "Professor Park announced.

Nam Soo Hyun turned in his seat and looked at Han Gung-ho who seemed quite pleased with himself. Next he looked at Yeo Jun, who was wearing a tease of a smile again.

With this settled, Professor Park enquired if anyone else needed help being put on a team. Maybe they were scared of also being put on Soo Hyun's team so no one said another word.

Class dismissed.

"Hey. Nam Soo Hyun!" Gung-ho called out in the hallway to the figure walking just ahead of him.

Soo Hyun halted and turned to face him.

"What was with that scowl?" Gung-ho sneered. "We both may be juniors but I am a year older than you. So what was with that scowl?"

Soo Hyun stared at him blankly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

"Not that again. Why you---" Gung-ho was irritated as he stepped towards Soo Hyun.

Yeo Jun, who was also in their company grabbed on to his hand.

"Gung-ho please. We're on the same team now."

"How can I possibly work with that jerk?" Gung-ho griped, looking at Soo Hyun who had not even flinched.

"You have me, remember." Jun tried to smooth things over.

Gung-ho slapped a hand on Jun's shoulder. "Right. Just remember to take your cues from me and Chun Guk and run errands." Gung-ho smiled. "Hye Ji, just follow my lead." he addressed the lone girl in their group.

"Sure. Sure." the response came. "Does that make me the only girl?" she pondered aloud.

"And we're one person short." Chun Guk commented "Jun is also a freshman."

"Wait a second." Nam Soo Hyun stopped the person who was trying to slink past the group in the hallway.

Kim Soo Bin stopped.

"Are you already in a team?" he asked.

"Not yet."

"How about you join ours?" Seeing that she looked hesitant, Soo Hyun continued. "I need someone I can trust on the team."

"Are you saying that you can't trust us?" Gung-ho was offended.

"Someone who works hard." Soo Hyun continued to address Soo Bin. "I wouldn't mind having you on our team."

"If this is about the project we did in the past, I'm okay." Soo Bin replied.

"I don't get swayed by frivolous things.I liked the work you did so I want you to join us. Please think about it."

"What's there to think about?" Yeo Jun stepped in. "Just join us."

As though the matter was settled, he looked at the group. "Let's go. Our first meeting should be somewhere fancy."

Off they went...