#not out of necessity they just need to get that extra energy out somehow during the long rains

[arolesbianism]

Was thinking abt my slugcat hcs and decided to doodle some scugs and ramble a smidge abt them. I’m not very happy with my hunter and arti designs atm unfortunately, but I like my concepts for them still

[lunarsilkscreen]

DragonBall fans don't understand Ultra Instinct...

Frequently in the series, Goku and Co are taught to "Move without thinking". This is not ultra Instinct, it's the absolute fighting basics.

Something we call "Muscle Memory".

Grandpa Gohan, Roshi, Popo, Wis, basically have to remind the protagonists to "Return to the Basics" every single time, because they are such good fighters; they start thinking faster instead of maintaining their "Muscle Memory" actions.

Part of this is the necessity to conserve Energy and Momentum. And so it becomes necessary to fight an opponent as if it were a chess match, trying to find a weakness.

And so they frequently forget to enter that state of calm.

For the Energy/Ki based fighting, it becomes necessary to relearn this as well. In order to develop that muscle memory.

Vegeta long forgot these basics because he *thinks* they're beneath him..he has of course trained several excellent Saiyan warriors since (including his own Son).

But Goku keeps being retaught this lesson because he always wants to learn from people stronger than him.

And their most common response? "You're slow, it's probably because your muscle memory sucks."

So what exactly is "Ultra Instinct"?

This, oddly enough, is easier to explain if we cross into [Hunter X Hunter]> A series created by one of Akira Toriyama's protege; Yoshiro Togashi--that uses *a lot* of the same core concepts of fighting and ki/energy/nen use.

The fighters are taught that focusing their Nen(energy) only into the points they need increases their energy's effectiveness.

This is *because* using it "Full Body" increases your power total, but not as much as if you focus it into a single point.

The same can be seen with Goku periodically "Shown" and not "Said" instead of explicitly "Telling them".

At parts of the series, Gokus hair bounces between SS1 and SS3 despite Goku basically avoiding SS3 after the Buu saga. Not because it's weak, but because it's a waste of energy.

And because of this; many art panels and shots in the show show Goku's hair getting longer during a particularly powerful action.

To showcase that he enters SS3 sparingly, either consciously or unconsciously is unknown. But we do know; Goku never figures out how to regulate his energy in SS3. And because of this; believes it to be an inferior form.

So [Ultra Instinct] is simply the extremely balanced form of energy dispersal.

Instead of using SS all at once, he's in that *powered up state* without the power generation until he uses it.

So instead of displaying it at all times; it shows when he's expending his Ki.

He's using his energy at its most effective. That's why he needed to be in a weakened state (so he's forced to use his remaining energy sparingly) and he's tired enough that he's only using muscle memory.

It's also why after the Jiren fight; Goku doesn't actually know what he's doing. He just knows that, from how he's fought before; he was a lot weaker overall. And somehow came out superior.

He, like the audience, believes it's extra untapped energy, or an alternate source of energy.

It's not; it's the extreme effective use of energy, but only when and where it needs to be expended.

The one drawback, like Nen usage in HxH; is if he gets hit and doesn't put up his Ki guard in the right place; he could take a lethal form of damage.

[stardustdiiving]

With that being said.

Here is my detailed pitch on what would happen if Wanderer & Nahida Genshin Impact did steven universe fusion (the most important meta about them I have ever done):

Disclaimer I am not putting much thought into Crossover lore here just imagine somehow There Is Gem Fusion In Genshin Impact.

Also breaking this into 3 segments: character stances on fusion, fusion circumstances, & fusion personality!

Character stances on fusion: I think it would be a pretty big deal for such a fusion to exist because I think Wanderer & Nahida both have really specific and complicated relationships with fusion as a concept overall.

Nahida would’ve never had the opportunity to fuse with anyone because of her imprisonment and the lack of any interpersonal relationships that results from it, while Wanderer to be honest probably has an almost traumatic relationship with it, either just out of his general jadedness about trusting people, or if you wanted to make it Even Worse, you can say the last fusion experience (and possibly one of the Only ones he’s had) was with Dottore—which would obviously be sort of a Malachite situation where it’s a very unhealthy fusion based on a relationship of (perceived) mutual exploitation and toxicity.

Formation circumstances: But I really do think I can see a hat radish fusion existing. I think it’s something they try to form form originally out of necessity or in a moment of need (there’s some big threat they realize they need both their strengths in a combined way [it’s either a thread against Sumeru Wanderer offers Nahida help with, or I can see Nahida coming in to help Wanderer confront Dottore], or during a critical moment they have a moment of understanding and fuse in the same way Steven and Amethyst do for the first time)

I think it’s a fusion very deeply based off trust and a mutual respect + understanding of each other’s experiences and genuinely works really well. Wanderer doesn’t really like talking about or acknowledging it particularly around other people, I think he handwaves it off as just being a trick they use for extra strength when necessary but their fusion is so stable when formed you can tell he’s really down with it. (This is especially obvious to Nahida as the other half of the fusion). Nahida obviously just thinks fusion is Really Fascinating as an Embodiment of Relationships and Experiences and in Wanderer’s words “will not stop employing bizarre poetic metaphors about it whenever it’s relevant”

After the initial more In The Moment circumstance of the fusion forming I think they do a usual dance for it and I think it’s just genuinely really cute. I’m imagining it being like those parent / child swing dances where Wanderer can spin Nahida around and it’s really endearing because Nahida is full of energy and having a really good time while Wanderer is trying very hard to look neutral.

Fusion Personality: ok so with all of this in mind we need to talk about the fusion itself. I think the first time traveler & paimon meet them Paimon’s like woah!! Wanderer & Nahida fusion! That’s so cool! They must be pretty powerful huh! And the fusion is like I Sure Am :D and demonstrates this in a Cool way. And Initially at first the fusion just seems like an easy going guy who’s full of whimsy and easy to get along with and Traveler + Paimon even make a comment like wow! it seems they mostly took after Nahida’s personality and not Wanderer’s Haha. That’s a relief. Maybe we should ask them to fuse more often this is kind of great

And then they regret this statement almost immediately, because as it turns out. Wanderer & Nahida’s fusion is also a massively lame nerd and a hilariously insufferable smartass. I AM SO VIVIDLY LIKE. imagining this little guy who’s a little smaller than Wanderer (Wanderer is not happy Nahida is stopping them from being cool and intimidating looking) with 4 arms who is constantly pulling up Nahida’s little holograms to emote and gesture along with anything they’re saying and does not stop TALKING and making silly bizarre nerd jokes and quips and crackling at them despite the fact they make zero sense to Anyone else. (Except maybe Cyno, who encourages this. Utterly horrifying)

They’re a really strong and useful ally in a fight but also genuinely kind of terrifying in combat. They fly around and do a blend of Wanderer & Nahida’s attacks where they skip around between spontaneously formed hopscotch tiles in the air and blast you with them while just visibly having fun and a good time. They rarely actively attack and tend to flip opponents around with a lot of illusion mindfuckery while making playful silly comments about it and are unfortunately not all for show bc they hit fast and hard when they DO attack. They have the durability of a toothpick and are kind of easy to punt around but good luck getting a hit on them omfg

Absolutely absurd force of nature. Baffles everyone constantly. But they’re a nice guy! friendly and super playful, VERY talkative, a little snarky in humor, mildly terrifying in combat, laughs in kind of a magical crackling way sometimes, and your friend :)! Wanderer and Nahida are probably the ones having the most fun here. No one else knows what to think of them. They present themselves are more chill to the general people of Sumeru (they know it’s like an alternate form of Nahida but not the specifics) who find them just kind of ominous and surprisingly more intimidating than Nahida is despite the fact they’re like 4.9” . I love them

I think steven universe fusion is a really specific but fun kind of character study to do with any dynamic you like bc it’s literally this physical embodiment of the character’s relationship. So cool

[blzzrdstryr]

Darling escaping - Mondstadt girls edition

Inspired by a request I got, will do edition for other characters in the future.

Starring: Amber, Eula, Jean, Lisa, Rosaria

Reader is gender neutral

CW: Yandere themes, confinement, drugging

Amber

It’s highly unlikely that Amber will confine you, but if it reaches that point, then she will try to be as understanding as possible. Being kidnapped is hard and stressful, it’s OK if you hit and yell at her, she gets you, you’re scared and anxious, she will let it slide.

The same goes for any failed escape attempts, Amber will maintain that sweet-saccharine-I-am-not-mad-at-you-please-stop-crying-and-screaming persona very well. She will be very mad of course, partially at you, mostly at herself.

She keeps you confined in the cottage in the middle of the forest - Amber, unlike you, has a vast experience of navigating among the wilderness, so she can almost always recapture you with ease, years spent tracking and hunting lending well in her search.

You will have to be quick and clever if you want to escape - you can’t dwell in one place for too long, nor can you leave any mark in hurry - Amber will use them to deduce your path and location.

You will also have to avoid major cities and settlements - Knights of Favonius have a good reputation and Amber is known for her upstanding nature, she can lie to locals that you’re dangerous escaped criminal or confused and troubled victim who wandered to far for their own good, and have you presented on the platter.

Once she drags you back, she will start to think about escape-proofing the cottage. She might also buy a chain, long enough to let you wander in most of the room. Don’t worry she’ll let you out, she just needs to install new sets of locks on every door in your house.

Eula

The day when she finally loses an internal battle and kidnaps you is the day when both you and Eula start to hate her intensely. Just like Amber, she also tries to be understanding, yet it’s hard. She can sometimes snap back or glare at you with that cold look, which will sink your already drowning sympathies even further.

Escape attempts will be met quite poorly, Eula understands that you’re terrified and stressed and don’t want to be anywhere near her, yet it hurts so badly she loses control. She will say a couple of very insidious and bitter things, as she drags you back, her hold on you a tad too forceful not to be painful.

You will most likely be confined in her mansion - Lawrences might be universally despised by all of Mondstadtians, yet they’re also filthy rich and people have a hard time saying no to shiny mora. You will be allowed to wander in a couple of rooms with all the necessities in your reach.

She won’t allow you to have any maids or servants though - her reputation is already low, and letting a third person in on this dangerous secret will definitely be her downfall.

That’s why she wastes no time when she sees rooms she kept you in empty. Eula will bolt out of the house, uncaring how she might look to others as her mind races, searching for your possible routes.

Your best bet is staying inside or close to major settlements. As it was said before, Mondstadtian despise Lawrences, and Eula isn’t an exception to that. She might be a respected Knight of Favonius, but if you act distressed enough others will question her motives and deter her from grabbing you back.

If you somehow happen to be in the wilderness it’s already over for you. Eula spends most of her time outside the city gates, she is very familiar with the terrains and forests, so she navigates them pretty well. No matter how fast or long you run, she will get you back.

Eula will act extra callous and cold after your failed escape, her heart aching at the fact that you were that desperate to be anywhere but with her.

Jean

Jean is far from being an intense yandere, she will confine you only if she believes that you can’t live comfortably by yourself.

One of the perks of being a highly respected acting grandmaster is that no one really questions her decisions. Even Diluc, who left and now despises the knights, acknowledges how responsible and hardworking she is.

She will convince others that you’re mentally unwell, that you need care and patient guidance to even function, and so she will pressure you into becoming her protege.

None of your words about Jean’s true nature will be taken seriously - acting grandmaster is a kind, hardworking and responsible leader, she does everything in the name of others’ well-being. How can you accuse Jean of something like this?

Moreover, your words will be used against you, as she will present them as a proof of your fragile mental state - you must be deeply delusional to think of your caretaker so badly and poorly, blaming her for things she had no hand in.

You will be “gently” reminded to stay with Jean in her own house,a knight always patrolling near the building when she has work to do. Unlike most yanderes, Jean will allow you to freely wander in the house and courtyard, yet nothing more.

If you escape, you should probably head to the next nation, without stopping in any of the Mondstadt settlements - Jean’s reach is far and wide.

She will dispatch the group of knights, ordering them to safely retrieve you back into her arms - “[First] is scared and confused”, she’ll tiredly sigh and ask them to be gentle with you upon your recapture.

She won’t punish you once you’re back, no she will be calm and collected, despite the inner storm - she has to keep the mask up, both for you and others. You will find two knights on the daily patrol though.

Lisa

Lisa can appear very lazy and careless at first glance, but she is far from that. The witch is the best graduate of Sumeru academy in two centuries and an expert at potion making. She’s also very good at her time management and has a spark of ingenuity, which makes your escape highly unlikely.

First of all, you will be pumped full of sedative drugs, if you aren’t compliant and broken enough - Lisa would like to think that you’re all nice and obedient, but she can’t.

She will slip drugs in your food and water, sometimes she will force the syringe needle under your skin, if you realize what she’s doing and start being difficult.

With the substances muddling your mind you will be as helpless and weak as a newborn kitten, unable to make three steps in a straight line.

With you being constantly high Lisa doesn’t have to stress over your escape - she just needs to lock all windows and doors and add a bit of silencing charms so no one can hear your angered screams.

It would be an incredibly simple, yet perfect plan if it wasn’t for drug resistance. Over time your body will start to adapt to the influence of her “potions”, and you will need a higher dose to be rendered helpless and incoherent again.

You will realize this once the terrible mix of withdrawal and clarity of mind hits you. Half-bent and squirming you will slip from your cell and start to run.

It’s highly unlikely you will go far, especially during withdrawal, but your best chance of escaping lies into contacting any human settlement - you will appear very sick and distressed and they’ll have no choice but take you in and let you endure the incoming torture under the safety of the house.

Once your body is clean, you should run, as far as possible, you should also change your clothes - Lisa marked the ones she kept you in with her electro energy, making you easier to detect.

If she gets you back, she’ll start switching between different kinds of sedatives, so you don’t develop resistance. Lisa will also add a couple of locks and a long chain to her purchases.

Rosaria

Rosaria, to her own dismay, doesn’t own any fancy mansion to keep you in, the house that she lives in is small and cramped as she uses the place to just sleep and keep the little of what she owns here.

This house, despite its small size, has a cellar - it’s empty and unused, with cobwebs decorating the corners. It’s perfect for keeping you in, when you’re difficult.

Don’t worry the cellar is the last resort - Rosaria will confide you here, if you act extra defiant and disobedient. On most days, you’re free to wander in that small house, and if you act extra nice, the nun will let you out under her strict supervision.

She will however, install a long chain and cuff it around your leg when she has to leave for a job.

You can run away from her in two instances, when she decides to go for a short walk with you, and when she is away, if you are able to unscrew or loosen the chain enough for your feet to slip.

If you escape during your walk, you better be an excellent runner, because Rosaria is fast. You will have to compete not only in speed, but also endurance and stamina with her, because Rosaria can run for a very long time, especially when she’s chasing you.

If you escape when she’s away your task gets infinitely easier, you’ll just need to make your way to Mondstadt and make your accusations - Rosaria isn’t very popular here, nor does she have a great image, so your words will hold some weight.

Whether she is found guilty or innocent, it will provide enough time for you to leave the city and head for the neighbouring nation.

If Rosaria gets you back, then you can forget about seeing a sunlight for a very long time, she will keep you chained in the cellar for at least two weeks as a punishment.

[sailxrmxrs]

around a week ago i posted these infinite blue au one shots and decided that as a submission for the fanworks contest i'd take the pirate milo one shot and extend it into a full fic! it got a little longer than expected but it was fun to go back and satiate the slight cliffhanger that it left on before hehe. The first 1.2k~ words are essentially the same as before just with an extra 2.7k words thrown in after it so do enjoy and good luck to anyone submitting for the infinite blue fanworks contest!! i'm excited to see other people's submissions!

The sun was reaching its peak in the sky as the ship docked into the port during the late Tuesday morning. Lights reflected off the water’s surface, sparkling like a thousand tiny gems were floating atop the gentle tide. After weeks at sea with no sign of civilisation in sight, seeing the city stretch before your eyes was a welcome comfort. Being the captain of a fleet was certainly no boring lifestyle and you enjoyed life at sea far more than an existence any city could offer, but there was no denying the bursts of excitement that permeated your being whenever you reached a city—old or new. The current plan was to stay in the city for a week to stock up on any supplies that were needed while allowing the crew to expend themselves however they wish. As captain you’d given out the orders for retrieval of supplies and ran through the usual protocol. By this point you knew your crew well enough and trusted them not to wreak havoc in the city, but there was no telling what the younger crewmates would try to get up to if given free rein in a new place, especially one with a perchance for debauchery and splendour. Your own companion for the following week was to be your first mate on the ship, Milo. He’d been one of the first to put himself forward for the role after you’d been anointed captain and had proven himself a loyal and trustworthy member of the fleet—even if he was chronically displeased. Where you liked to treat life as an enjoyable endeavour, not worrying yourself over trivial matters, Milo was uptight and serious; he liked order and not to stray too far from plans. The two of you were like fire and ice, polar opposites who somehow managed to find a pleasant balance between chaos and order.

Such balance, however, could only be found when you addressed the fleet or made deals with other pirate fleets and city officials. When the two of you were alone there were an abundance of debates to be had. And if you weren’t going back and forth over proposed plans of action, Milo was counting his lucky stars that you hadn’t gotten yourself injured doing something you really should not have. He still liked to bring up the one occasion you’d almost fallen off the bow of the ship because you got so excited to see a particularly rare species of bird flying nearby the ship. Though as much as he liked to poke fun at your energy and antics, Milo couldn’t imagine himself being part of a different crew, nor could he imagine a better captain. Not that he would tell you that, of course. And when you’d told him the two of you had business together in the city, he’d groaned and complained about being forced to stay by your side on land as well as on sea.

“Why am I the one that has to be stuck with you?” You were the last two on the ship, the rest of the crew having disembarked to make their way about the city. Port workers were ready and waiting to tend to the ship as per your request so you and Milo were collecting any necessities before heading off and into the bustling streets.

“Because you’re my first mate and second-in-command. You chose this, remember?” You teased, striding past Milo as he swept his hair out of his face. He usually tied his hair back thanks to the sea salt infused ocean air blowing its steady assault but since arriving he’d let it fall in loose waves atop his shoulders. Milo shrugged on his dark maroon coat, falling to just above his knees, over the wine-red tunic and black corset he wore. His choices in clothing differed from your own light beige tunic and emerald corset. The two of you walked side-by-side onto the docks, nodding in greeting to the port workers as they went about their tasks.

“I don’t remember choosing to be joined at the hip for every waking hour,” Milo complained, though he remained close by with a watchful eye of anyone who sought to take advantage of the agreeable and exuberant fleet captain; his sour disposition proved an excellent deterrent from unsavoury characters looking to target the newcomers to the city.

“That’s on you for thinking I’d be so kind,” you chimed, skipping ahead as Milo watched with an unamused look. “Oh cheer up, Milo. We’re in a new city asking to be explored! And you get to do it with me by your side what more could you want?”

“Peace. Quiet. Freedom.”

“All overrated if you ask me. Now, if you’re done sulking there’s a merchant in the marketplace we have business with.”

Hours passed with ease, flitting from market stall to market stall as you examined the city’s layout. You’d been able to attend to business with ease, finding no obstacles or unexpected turns steering you off path. Milo had eventually loosened up and stopped sulking quite so much, especially when you offered to pay for the meal you shared at a cosy tavern situated in a quieter corner of the city. Cobblestone streets were decorated with old buildings, worn with age and some abandoned with dust-caked windows and rusted metal signage. After dining and strolling through the quiet city streets, you and Milo happened upon a comfortable looking inn. It wasn’t sat near the bustling high streets and so offered a higher chance of having spare rooms at such short notice. To make matters easier, the both of you were to share a room. After all, sleeping aboard the ship meant the crew were accustomed to being in close quarters with one another—the cabins weren’t particularly large either and many had to share the cramped spaces anyway. What the two of you didn’t expect, however, was for there to be only one bed sitting in the middle of the room. Milo hadn’t spoken a word and his expression remained as calm as ever, giving away neither a sign of comfort nor discomfort. Curse him for being so unreadable, especially compared to your frantically darting eyes.

“I should go back down to ask for another room. We can't—”

“No need. You said yourself earlier we’re used to living in the same confined space so what’s a shared bed for a few nights? Don’t tell me you’re nervous.” At your silence and cornered expression, Milo continued. “Oh? Never been so close to a man before?” Milo’s tone had turned taunting, taking a few steps closer as his fingers cupped your jaw. Rising annoyance took hold of your actions, your hand rising to push his off.

“Whether I have or not is none of your concern. And if you are so adamant that this is an appropriate arrangement for a captain and their first mate then fine. We’ll share.” You summoned as much stoicism to your voice as possible, marching to deposit what few items you still carried atop an old wooden desk beneath the windowsill.

By the time you were ready to retire for the night, heart pounding as you watched Milo climb into his side of the bed wearing only a pair of loose brown trousers and a white blouse so sheer there was barely a need to be wearing it. He still remained unaffected about the whole situation, barely uttering a word of discontent despite his complaints earlier in the day. But as you took your spot beside him, reaching to extinguish the sole candle providing light for the room, Milo’s breath hitched. It was a small sound, so easily missed between the shuffling of bedsheets. But you heard it. And as you bid Milo a goodnight, sparing one last glance at him in the darkened room, you could have sworn he was blushing.

Morning came all too quickly, the hazy sunrise rays filtering through the too-thin curtains that were covering the window frame. Quiet footsteps sounded across the wooden floor, the only audible proof that Milo had already awoken. Sleep still addling your eyes, you blink to keep yourself from drifting asleep again. Despite a busy life at sea, there was no denying that sleep’s gentle caress was an enticing pleasure to bask in for as long as your body deemed necessary. But alas, duties called and you had no choice but to abide by the chains of responsibility. The day ahead was to be spent travelling through the city gathering further information. While your fleet did not actively seek out rumours and speculations of other ships and their crews, sometimes it became a matter of precaution. As captain it would be irresponsible to ignore the possibilities of ambush. For as many good pirates that were out there exploring for the sake of mere adventure, there were just as many with villainous intentions seeking power above all else. And there was no way to know for certain who these unsavoury characters might be without a little underhanded investigating from a covert captain and their first mate.

“Are you planning on getting up anytime soon or are you just going to stay there all day?” Milo asked, his voice sounding entirely unamused and almost annoyed by your lack of any substantial activity. He, of course, was already dressed and itching to leave into the early morning air. Milo was never one to wait around or allow himself the pleasures of a day off. But by that same token, his disciplined behaviour extended to you. After all, how could a captain allow their first mate to be more proactive than them? Out in public, at least. Behind closed doors you were more than welcome to remain under the warmth of the covers, until Milo forcibly removed you, that is.

“Five more minutes,” you groggily replied, still burdened with the luring pull of sleep caressing your skin. Before you could sink even further beneath the covers, a sharp gust of cold air pierced your warm cocoon as Milo tore back the warmth with an unforgiving tug.

“Hey! What was that for?” You shouted, sitting up to glare at him and your now cold legs momentarily forgotten. Milo stood with a single raised eyebrow, the covers still in his grasp as he smirked at you.

“Can’t handle a little cold, captain?” Milo held your gaze, perfectly content to stare you down until you moved from your spot on the bed. If there was anything he’d learned during his time as your second-in-command, it was how to get you to attend to the less appealing responsibilities. Knowing he was far too stubborn to relent, you let out a sign of resignation, throwing your legs over the side of the bed to finally get up. As you moved, the too-long blouse that came to your mid-thigh rose ever so slightly, the softness of your skin drawing Milo’s eyes. He cleared his throat, declaring he would leave to allow you some privacy but that he expected you at the inn’s entrance within ten minutes and if you were even the slightest bit late he’d be up to drag you down himself. For all his threats and treatments of tough love, you knew deep down Milo would never act on half of them; he just enjoyed playing the part of your cold and unforgiving companion.

However, to Milo, more than anything else he needed to leave purely for his own sake. If he said that he’d rested well he would have been lying. All night he could barely settle his racing mind simply because you were so unbearably close. At one point you’d even moved closer in your sleep, arms subconsciously reaching to hold onto his. Milo hadn’t wanted to wake up so allowed it to happen, sneaking the odd glance or two at your peaceful expression while you slept. He never liked to admit these things to himself—always hated confronting his own emotions whenever they spun in a direction he didn’t account for. But he was powerless against all that he felt in that room in the dead of night, with no one but himself to blame for falling so hard for his captain, the singular person he believed he should not cross that line with despite the irony of sharing a bed together. As far as Milo was concerned, this was just another burden he would bear until it was no longer an issue. He couldn’t afford to dwell on maybes and what ifs, not when there were far more pressing matters to be concerned with. So he would continue living with this slight pain in his chest that would twist with each unfiltered smile or teasing remark you threw his way, if only to prevent a cataclysmic fallout should you not take too kindly to his affections.

Milo couldn’t dwell further on the matter; the day ahead held greater importance. When the two of you reunited, both prepared to go about the city once more, your usual dynamic sank in fairly fast. There wasn’t much chance to notice any minute alteration to Milo’s mood either, given the city was so alive even at the earlier time of day. From the elevated parts of the city, the towering masts of docked ships could be seen along with the distant stretches of the horizon that knitted the sky and sea together. A myriad of buildings old and new built up the city, roofs of wood and stone making up the majority of the city’s expanse with only some of the eldest residences still housing thatched roofs. Dividing the city was a river that meandered from its highest point down to the shores by the docks. Glistening views of sparkling water could be seen from multiple vantage points throughout the city, with bridges built to allow easy access no matter where you needed to go. It was a city built by and for its citizens, a place one could easily envision a life of peace and quiet. But as tempting as the quiet life may sound, it could never compare to life at sea. These excursions onto shore and into civilisation were nice, but suffocating—a reminder of a past existence stuck in the same four walls with no promise of adventure save for the mystical stories in your books and the occasional glance through a window at the ships on the horizon. And, while you would likely never admit it, there wasn’t another you’d rather have by your side to live this life of freedom than Milo.

“You done daydreaming over there? Or did you forget we have things to do?” Milo sounded bored as he called out to you, more than a few paces ahead before he realised you’d stopped. His arms were folded and he looked as unamused as his voice had been. When you didn’t respond, Milo’s arms fell to his sides as he strode over. Before you could stop him, a gentle poke prodded at your forehead.

“Hey, you good? Not like you to think. Ever.”

Offering Milo a pointed look, you retort, “Hilarious. But yes, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Do I get a hint as to what you’re thinking about?”

Contemplating your options, you opted to keep your thoughts to yourself, smiling sweetly at Milo. “Nope. As you so dutifully reminded, we have things to do.” You stepped closer, looking Milo square in the face before swiftly moving past him without waiting to see if he followed. Of course, Milo was soon by your side and looking about ready to complain.

“I swear one day you’ll–” Milo’s words stopped short as the both of you approached a corner, one that just on the other side stood a group of covert pirates. There weren’t any voices that you recognised, but the fleet about which they spoke was more than familiar. So familiar, in fact, that it was yours.

“Didn’t you hear? Their captain’s as incompetent as anything. Even if they do walk around with that guard dog first mate of theirs, he’s too busy falling at their feet or warming their bed to see anything coming.”

Rage ignited in every inch of your body, a burning inferno of fury scorching as it climbed your throat, threatening to spill in a blind mass of fire-tipped words at whoever had insulted you and Milo. You could barely feel anything but that anger rushing through you, your legs carrying you without any thought as to a strategy or plan. The only thing that doused the fire was Milo’s hand on your wrist, his grip firm as he held you back. You spun back to glare at him, eyes still lit with icy hot rage as the conspirators’ words continued to infect your ears.

Milo kept his voice low, a rough tone of urgency accompanying his intense need to remain undetected. Even if the both of you were highly skilled and trained pirates, you were also outnumbered. And considering how tense your emotions were running, it left you more prone to impulsively throwing yourself in. Usually you were highly attuned to your surroundings, able to employ your hard-earned abilities in the rare encounters you needed them, but whenever someone’s emotions ran high and it was left unchecked, blind spots manifested; where blind spots appeared, so did risk. As much as Milo wanted to watch as you held a knife to each of their throats, the threatening and lethal captain you could so easily be, he also did not want to risk either one of you coming out of this wounded—or worse.

“Look, I get that you want to deal with them, but we’re not prepared for this. There’s only two of us—”

“Two of us who have dealt with just as many of them before. Milo you’re overreacting here,” you retorted, rooting your feet so that he couldn’t pull you away.

Milo’s eyebrows knitted in frustration, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as he continued. “Please. Just…listen to me. Just this once. We regroup with the rest of the crew and deal with this with an actual plan.” As soon as the hushed words left his lips, Milo sensed your refusal in the slow blink as you folded your arms across your chest. Knowing his limited options, Milo moved as quickly as his body allowed him, lifting you into his arms. You tried to voice your annoyance and anger, but the words died in your throat as you remembered the exact situation Milo was trying to avoid. As much as you may have wanted to charge knife first into an encounter, it would be far less effective from Milo’s arms if your shouts alerted them to your presence. Once the two of you were a safe distance away, Milo placed you back down, barely even flinching when you shoved him away from you.

“What the hell was that? I realise you didn’t think we could handle ourselves, but really? Why? Do you not trust me after all these years?”

“You know I trust you. Just that we were caught unawares and both our emotions are running high. Surely you agree it’s better to be prepared than rushing in?” Milo stood firmly in place as you paced about the stone bridge over the river.

“Sometimes, yes, but don’t you also agree that sometimes instinct serves us well?”

“And my instinct said that rushing in was a bad idea,” Milo quipped, eyes closing at the unamused groan that left your throat. He took a few deep breaths before he continued. “I realise you’re angry with me. And rightly so. But please trust me when I say this was the best course of action for the time being.”

You paused your pacing, looking at Milo with a mix of dissipating frustration and confusion etched upon your face. “Fine. Then at least tell me why you’re being so—I don’t know. You’re being overly cautious. It’s not like you.”

“Have you considered that maybe it’s because I care about you? That I don’t want to see you get hurt when I could have prevented it? Hearing what they said about you…I needed to get myself out of there before I got us into worse trouble.” Milo strode past you, moving his hands to lean against the bridge, eyes closed as his head hung low. The events of the last few moments had struck him deeper than you’d realised and it sent a tinge of guilt strumming through your veins.

“Milo, I’m not exactly sure what you mean by that but even if I am your captain was that so necessary?”

A quiet whisper came from Milo, so softly spoken that you wouldn’t have known he’d said anything if it weren’t for the slight movement in his lips. When you asked him to repeat himself, Milo’s voice sounded pained, as though it was going against everything he’d told himself to be so open. “Do you really think I only care about you because you’re my captain?”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re headstrong and capable and do all kinds of incredible things that amaze me day by day. It means I admire you in every definition of the word. It means I have come to care for you far more than I ever promised myself I would. It means I want to protect you with my life, should you ever need it, although you can protect yourself well enough I know. And it also means that I love you.”

Shock and surprise stunned you, rendering you unable to speak. Never had you expected such an admission of emotion from Milo. The man usually kept his feelings locked away so tight you’d started to believe even he couldn’t unlock them at times. And yet, there he stood, raw emotion filtering his features as he stared down at his hands. Whether he was waiting for a response or not you weren’t certain, nor could you have really given one. At least, not verbally. Nerves wracking your every move, you slowly stepped closer to Milo and reach a hand to softly lift his chin so that he was facing you.

Milo sighed. “I’m fine. Just forget I ever said anything.”

“But what if I don’t want to forget?” You whispered, leaning in closer so that the tips of your noses were now touching, waiting for Milo to close that impossibly small distance. And he did. His touch was hesitant, yet explorative. As though he wanted to etch every last moment into his skin’s memory in case this were all some cruel dream. You were his lifeline and Milo was gasping for air, suddenly questioning how he had survived so long without your touch. How he had ever reprimanded himself in the dead of night, utterly convinced such a connection could never come to be. All of Milo’s thoughts centred around you. Around the gentle hand that rested on his jaw; around the softness of your lips against his; around the earnest way you poured every unspoken confession of devotion into your actions. This was a sliver of heaven-sent euphoria shared only for the two of you under the clear summer sky, standing atop a bridge that offered the perfect backdrop of the city and sea beyond it. While the moment was sure to come to an end shortly, the memory would forever remain imprinted upon Milo’s thoughts, serving as the cause of his elation and contentment for days, weeks, months to come. He could survive on this one moment alone, and yet, the anticipation sitting in his stomach told him that, perhaps, there were endless moments of divine ecstasy awaiting him in the future. His future, that he would share with you for as long as the fates allowed it.

[ratsoh-writes]

Wait they have heats? Then what are they all like during heat? :o

Here’s the link explaining heats

Sans: he’s not too different during his heat. He likes to joke and call it hibernation because that’s how sans treats it. He does his best to be unconscious as long as possible. He usually saves vacation time from work to take the first two days off. His rarely sat longer than three days

Papyrus: he HATES his heat because it makes him anxious and jittery. Papyrus will work himself to exhaustion during in an attempt to ignore his arousal and anxiety. And there’s not really anything anyone can do to help since he refuses to find a heat partner if he doesn’t have a SO

Star: he becomes oddly calm during his heat. The exhaustion saps all his manic energy leaving him in a nice state of normal. It’s terrifying

Honey: the cramps from his heat make him nauseous so it’s hard for him to keep food down the first two days. If he had a partner though, heats would be a breeze for honey. He doesn’t suffer any personality changes. Just terrible cramps

Red: so he’s super horny, anxious, and sore? Sounds like Tuesday to him. Unless one was his partner and able to smell the stronger magic on red, nobody notices when he’s in heat

Edge: he gets more physically affectionate during his heat. Not only in a flirtatious way with his SO. Edge will also hug red, be nicer to his interns at work, give doomfanger many extra cuddles… he’s still super grouchy though, just cuddly and grouchy

Mal: he’s a seething ball of rage during his heat and should be avoided at all costs unless you plan on being his heat partner.

Cash: he’s… hungry. He has the opposite problem that honey has. Now everything looks appetizing to him. Even sweets. If cash is voluntarily making cookies, he’s in heat.

Oak: heats are not a fun time for him. Oak gets really stressed out so any time he’s awake, the stress makes his memory even worse than usual. So bad he can’t really do much, not even bake. He might forget the oven is on.

Willow: same as oak, his heats are a bad time for him. They make his back ache like a mf, and he has his brother to worry about as well since their heats cycle together. Willow usually takes the week off and spends it worrying about how his managers are handling the bakery

Charm: being a monster infected with the lust serum means that charm is always in a state of low heat. So he actually doesn’t have a heat cycle. He just has to deal with being horny all the time

Sugar: same situation as charm basically

Lord: he becomes softer and less snappy during his heat. Lord will even be sweet to his friends instead of his usual sass. He’s still not down to cuddle though

Mutt: he gets pretty temperamental during his heat and will be looking to pick a fight. Not as bad as mal, but close. Lord forces mutt to quarantine whenever their heats start up because mutt will end up getting injured somehow

Wine: he’s very flirtatious during his heat. It’s funny because wine is normally so prim and proper, but here he is making all the old ladies blush in delight when they visit the antique shop. Rip SO.

Coffee: during his heat he has zero f*cks to give. It’s like all his shyness is thrown out the window. He doesn’t stutter one bit when talking to new people. And like wine, he becomes a smooth mf

Pop: literally nothing changes during his heat except for him being a little tired. Pop is blessed with very easy heats

Rhythm: he gets more emotional and it’s pretty easy to get him crying during this time. His bones are also super sensitive so unless you’re his partner, rhythm won’t want anyone touching him

Pluto: heats make him lazy, so unless it’s canoodling with his partner, Pluto won’t want to do much except lay around and read.

Jupiter: same as Pluto basically. His heats are the one time he isn’t super excited to go out and work.

G: he absolutely hates that constantly aroused feeling and almost always finds a partner for his heats. If he doesn’t though, G turns from funny-rude to genuinely rude during his heat.

Green: he very oddly calm during his heat. He likes to pretend that he’s not hurting and raging horny at the moment lol

Peaches: he gets more social and playful during his heat. Peaches is normally so mild that it surprises people to see him so quick to banter.

Rancher: because of all the hard labor he does, he sometimes misses his heats since he’s too busy to notice the arousal and soreness. Rancher once panicked thinking he missed a season before peaches reassured him that he definitely had it at the same time as him

Snipe: he becomes a nest goblin during his heat and will hide away for the four days in a pile of blankets and pillows he drags into his room. Snipe uses his heat weeks to get caught up on any backlogged paperwork he has

Bruiser: the wanderlust hits hard when he’s in heat. Bruiser only comes home to sleep for about four hours a night. Where he is the rest of the time no one knows

Ace: he’s VERY emotional during his heat and can’t even keep up his usual neutral masks. Out of necessity ace has to take the week off and will spend it sulking unless he has a SO to spend it with

Slim: like papyrus, slim takes the work till you drop route to stave off the anxiety. He usually spends his heats with boss doing any and all fixing jobs the mafia properties might need. Slim prefers sore bones over constant arousal

Butch: he gets super playful and cuddly during his heat. He’s basically a big pest to every one around him lol. This also comes with being extra flirtatious. Because of this, but rarely ends up alone for his heat

Boss: his personality really doesn’t change much during heat, but the raging libido does make him a little more distracted. He usually keeps himself busy and focused by working slim to death. Helping his brother with his anxiety makes boss feel better

Rust: like red, he’s great at hiding his heat and has no problems still going to work on those days. The kids are a great distraction. He’s mopey and listless when he gets home though

Noir: he’s super cuddly as well but less grouchy than edge. Noir will straight up cuddle with rust during heat to try and cheer his brother up. This is a great time for a SO to get him to say something mushy and embarrassing lol

Lilac: without that manic energy Star has, instead of becoming normal, lilac is dead to the world. He’s in pain, exhausted, and too horny to want to look at anyone that’s not a heat partner. He spends it in solitude mostly

Basil: like honey, heats make him super nauseous. But basil refuses to not eat so he spends his heats occasionally checking in on lilac and focusing on not throwing up :(

[mywonuderful]

Not So Cold-Heart Pt.20

Summary: Y/N, a member of a popular newly debut girl group and Wonwoo has what some may call a relationship with emotional ambivalent. Will their relationship remain cold-blooded or will they finally come to an agreement and become something more?

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

A/N: I deeply apologize for the dragged on update for this. School and life has been stressing me out lately so I haven’t been able to write. To make up from delayed update, here’s a longer part. As always, if anyone is interested in being added into the taglist for this series, please feel free to send in a ask or message me!

masterlist

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You tumbled and turned for almost the whole night, not being able to fall asleep. You and your members decided to sign off to bed earlier than usual since the awards show was the next day but you were restless the whole night. Your mind wandered about how your group performance will go but also your special stage with Moonbin. Your mind started wandering off to difference scenarios of out it could turn out, making anxiousness building up in you. Your alarm went off as you sat up to turn it off before you wore your glasses and headed into the bathroom to wash up. You walked out to find Nari handing you a supplement drink. “What’s this?” “I know you couldn’t sleep last night.” Your eyes widen as you worried if you woke her up. “Oh sorry, did I wake you up?” “No. But I know you’re extremely restless whenever we have upcoming performances and events. Here, take this.” She twisted open the cap and handed you the drink. You mumbled a soft ‘I owe you’ before chugging the drink.

Knowing that the early morning weather is extremely cold, even in the summer, you changed into a hoodie and put on some joggers as you packed your back with you necessities to bring to the show.

“Your whole bag is practically stuffed with snacks Skye. Remember, it’s a awards show, not a eating show.” You heard Yun Hee’s voice in the kitchen as she scolded Skye, making you chuckle. “C’mon, do you expect me to starve for hours during the show?” “We’re going out for a group dinner afterwards anyways. Just think of it as fasting.” “But-” “Give it to me, I have some extra space.” You reached our hand out to take the bag of snacks and placed it into the bag. Skye cheers as Yun Hee shakes her head, leaving the scene. As your members headed back into their rooms to change, you quickly took some headache pills so that they didn’t have to worry. As you heard your members’ footsteps leaving their room, you quickly tore opened a vitamin drink. “Remember to drink your vitamin drinks before you leave!” you called out as your members replied in unions. Remi got a call from the manager saying that he’s waiting outside as everyone started leaving the dorm one by one. You quickly looked into your bag to see if you forgot anything before wearing your shoes and locking the door behind you.

“Good morning, Y/N” Minghao was at the bottom of the stairs to your surprised as you walked out. He greeted you with his usual melting smile. “Morning” You replied, trying to fix up your bed hair as he lets out a chuckle. “I’ve seen you countless of times without makeup, in your comfy clothes and especially in your bed head. I don’t think today is any different” you slightly pout as he leans in giving you a cheeky grin. “Nervous?” “You don’t say.” “You’ll do fine, I’m absolutely sure of it. To cover up your restless night, try to get as much sleep as you can in the car and in the waiting room, alright?” “Wait, how’d you kno-” “HEY YOU TWO LOVE BIRDS, QUIT FLIRTING AROUND AND GET YOUR ASSES IN THE CAR.” Mingyu yelled as you and Minghao turned around to hush his loud voice in the early morning. Wonwoo who was behind stopped at his steps and turned his head to face you and Minghao. He was wearing a a hood over his head, specs on the edges of his nose, joggers and slippers. Somehow, you felt your heart tingled.  “See you there.” Minghao softly ruffles your hair before turning to leave to his members. You hopped into the van, feeling their eyes on you. “So, when are you telling us?” Mira dragged her words as the members turned to face you, even your manager glanced at the rear mirror to look at you “Tell you what?” “That you like Minghao.” “S-Sorry? Come again?” “Or the other way around, doesn’t matter. The both of you seem to like each other.” You tilted your head, not catching up with her words. “He was waiting at the stairs just for you to come out.” “Oh, it’s nothing.” “Nothing.... She says” you heard your members mumbled as you rested your head on the window trying to get some light sleep.

---

“Is your mic on properly?” One of the staff comes up to you to fix your mic on the side of your face.” You arrived at the awards location not too long ago but haven’t gotten much rest as you wanted because apparently the show is starting a lot earlier than what was informed. You and your members were currently preparing for the sound check rehearsal. The backstage was flooded with staffs, trying to set up stands and platforms of where you were going to stand. As you and your members walked on to the stage, you sudden felt your heart race, feeling nervousness building up. “Alright, we’re going to start the sound check rehearsal with Eunioa.” The stage director speaks to the mic as your group introduced yourself. One of the staff comes up with a board of the stage in full top view and went over on how each transformation and movement would work. “And is it correct that Y/N will be walking to the middle stage first for her solo and then the rest of you will follow on later on?” you nodded, trying to listen in carefully over the loud background rustling “Ok, so we have a little problem on this side of the stage. The flooring here is very weak, especially when there is a lot of people standing around it. Please avoid this area because it will collapse and you will fall down under. We’ve tried to put some tape around it so that you will notice it.” Right when she started talking, the music of your song your were covering started blasting making you unable to hear the following words after the first sentence. “ Please be cautious. Got it?” “Wait could you repea-” “Ok, I’ve informed them! They’re ready to run their sound check!” She gives the director a thumbs up and runs off down the stage.

‘Problem on the side of the stage... Problem on the side of the stage’ you repeated in you head as everyone got into position before the music and lights started playing. As the second chorus approached you walked off the to the side of the main stage and quickly scurried over to the middle stage. As you stepped on the platform of the side of the stage, you felt the flooring wobble as you tried to gain your balance and took a mental note. As you got into position, the lights aimed down at you as you rapped your part and danced, with your members joining in. You ended the rehearsal with the director being pleased. Breathlessly, you and your members walked back into the waiting room when you walked past Wonwoo who was outside chatting with Vernon.

“Just finished with sound check?” Vernon asked as you and your members walked by. “Yeah, I think you guys are next.” You smiled at him before your eyes glanced over to Wonwoo who was looking at you before he turned away with Vernon sensing what’s happening and nudged him as you walked into your waiting room.

---

“Y/N, you’re not going to eat?” Your manager walked in with some bento boxes but you just didn’t have any appetite. “I’ll eat later. I still have to do a sound check with Bin.” You glanced at your phone, wondering when it’ll be. “Remember to eat your bento box. You know your body needs the fuel and all the energy it can get for both your performances.” Na On reminded as you softly hummed before a knock was heard. You stood up from the couch, quickly walking over to open the door. “Y/N!” He smiled at the sight of you. His eyes looked behind you as he noticed your members and quickly bowed to greet them. “Our rehearsal is up soon. Did you eat yet?” “I’m not really feeling hungry. Plus, I don’t want to dance after eating.” You chuckled as he nodded. “How about we eat together after rehearsal then?” He suggested, cheeks flushing as you mentally slapped yourself to not die over his adorableness. “I’d love to.” You went over to your members to grab a bento box as you heard them whistle.

“So the both of you will be performing as the second special stage after they perform. Please be backstage when they come on and standby after they come off.” The staff informed as you and Moonbin fixed up your mics. You were going to perform your with Moonbin first before your groups performance which made you feel a little more nervous because that’ll mean that your members will be able to see. Just then, your thought of Wonwoo watching you make you feel even more nervous, even though he’s been to almost all your practices with Moonbin. You shook your head, trying yo get your distractions away when you felt something gentle on your shoulder. “Everything okay?” Moonbin looks down at you. “Yeah, just a little nervous.” You lightly chuckled as his face softened with a hint of concern. “Don’t worry. We’ve practice hard and nailed everything during practice. Just treat this like our regular practices.” He tries to cheer you up and you firmly nodded and moved into your position before the music started playing and lights turned on.

After rehearsal you and Moonbin found a spot near the end of the hallway and decided to sit there to eat before the last dress rehearsal. “I think it went quite well back there!” Moonbin cheerfully cheered as he sat down and opened his bento box. “The stage is a lot larger than expected. It looked so small in pictures and videos.” “This is your first awards show, right?” you hummed to answer him. “No wonder. You’ll get used to it. That’s why we have multiple rehearsals so that everyone can get used to the sizing before the actual performance.” your heart started racing realizing how little time was left before the show began. High pitched voices were heard behind you as you turned and saw a few female idols shyly smiling with their hands covering their faces. You saw a tall male in the middle, smiling as they exchanged conversations and chuckles. As the female idols shifted to the side a bit, you realized it was Wonwoo who was chatting with them. “Isn’t that Wonwoo hyung?”

You remained quiet, trying to listen in to their conversations as you hear the words ‘exchange numbers’ which make you annoyed for some reason. Wonwoo looks over the females when Moonbin waved his arm as his looks landed on yours. “Excuse me.” the group let out disappoint sighs as he started walking towards you as you rolled your eyes and quickly turned our head back to your lunch, stuffing food into your mouth. You could feel their stares piercing through your back as you heard Wonwoo approaching you and Moonbin. “Hyung! I wouldn’t didn’t know I’d see you around here.” Moonbin smiled “My dressing room is just a few rooms down. Late lunch?” He replied as the whispering of the females starting getting louder and more audible. “Yeah, our rehearsal took a little longer than usual, so we’re having a late lunch.” He knelled down beside you but you didn’t turn to look at him as you looked to the ground, eating a spoonful. “That bento box looks amazing, can I have a bite?” Your eyes glared over to see him eyeing your lunch box. You let out a sigh, and handed him the box but he shook his head and opened his mouth, pointing into it motioning you to feed him. “Yeah, no. As if. You either take a bite yourself or not eat.” You let out a annoyed chuckle as he smiled standing back up. “Alright, you guys enjoy your lunch. Rest up well before the performance. I’m excited to see it on stage.” He lightly ruffled your hair as he walked back to the front of his dressing room as the females tried asking for his number again.

“S-So, should we exchange numbers?” One of them said “Ah about that... How about you give me yours and I’ll text you?” “That’ll be awesome!” She happily told him her number. “Well, it was nice chatting with you, but I think we should be getting ready for the show.” “Right! I-I’ll be waiting for your text!” she shyly said as her and her members left the scene, whispering and squealing. “You’re not going to give her your number, aren’t you?” Vernon pops his head of out their dressing room door as Wonwoo leans against the wall, arms across on his chest. “You know me too well. Plus I wasn’t honestly wasn’t listening after the first 3 numbers. Let’s go get ready.” Vernon and Wonwoo chuckled as he walked back into the room and the door closes behind them. Hearing that made the weight on your chest disappear as a smile formed on your face without even knowing.

----

You and your members were currently getting touch ups before to the tables before the performances began. Everyone was put into beautiful dresses and one-pieces in shades of navy blue and accents as the designer decided to put you into a simple, silky slit dress that was wrapped around your body. The slit rose up to the upper side of your thigh as you kept pulling the gaps together, worried that you’ll end up flashing. “Y/N, it looks perfect, stop worrying!” You looks at the mirror to see Na On smiling. “It looks beautiful on you.” “Thanks... It’s just a little scandalous, don’t you think?” “Hey, at least your don’t have your whole back exposed.” Nari walks over to the both of you as everyone broke into chuckles. As the director staring calling our groups to get ready to walk out, you needed to use the restroom once more just to completely empty your bladder. You quickly ran our of the dressing room when you saw a bunch of boys who was lining up outside a few rooms down, fixing their suits and ties. “Well hello there, princess.” Minghao lifted his head and slightly widen his eyes as he saw you in the dress you were wearing. “You’re looking fine as well, Mr.Xu.” You lightly curtsied as he bowed making the both of you breaking out into laughter. “Oh wow, you look so pretty , Y/N” they memories started complimenting you as you shyly thanked them. “I’ll see you later.” Minghao pats your back before leaving. You realized that Wonwoo wasn’t with them, making you feel somehow disappointed. You hurriedly clicked your heels to the restroom when saw someone walk out of the male’s restroom. Wonwoo was wearing a velvet tuxedo with his hair pushed back. You unconsciously placed a hand over your chest, feeling your rapid heartbeat as he approached. His eyes traveled up from the clicking of your shoes as you saw his halt at his step for a second before hesitating to continue. The both of you awkwardly bowed before you noticed what you were walking in his path, making you move to the right, as he did the same. The both of you paused for a second before the both of you stepped to the left and then right once more before the both of you chuckled.

“Ladies first.” He motioned his hand to the left as you timidly bowed and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before walking. Just when you were about toe walk past him, he grips onto your arm, coming close to you as you shut your eyes for whatever was about to happen. “You’ve got something in your hair.” You felt his breath as his fingers brushed through your hair to get whatever was taught in it. You opened one eye to see him softly smiling at you. “You look gorgeous.” You looked up and he patted your head before heading off as your cheeks tinted in all shades of red “Y-You look handsome as well!” You quickly spoke, feeling immediate regret of how awkward and forced that sounded. “Heard that once too many times already.” He spoke as he continued walking, as you rolled his eyes, sensing that he was going to say that. “But, it hearing it from you sounds different.” He turned back to look at you with a smile before turning around the corner, leaving you in suspends on whether that was a compliment or insult.

---

“Welcome to this year’s awards ceremony! We’re excited to say that this year’s theme is a little different than the previous years so we look forward for everyone’s reactions! Now without further ado, let the show begin!” The MCs introduced the first group to perform as you couldn’t help but to feel edgy as you counted down how many more groups until your special stage. Your group was sitting behind Seventeen as you saw them chatting among themselves when you caught Wonwoo looking at you before he turned his head and faced the stage. “I saw that.” Kira smirked “Saw what?” “That exchange you and Wonwoo just made.” “What exchange?” “The ‘I’ll meet you at the dressing room lat-” “You must be so hungry that you’re hallucinating” You stuffed a gummies in her mouth before she could finish her sentence as you tried to calm your racing and nervous heart. After a few performances you felt a tap on your shoulder. “It’s almost time for your special stage. You should get going so you have time to change and all.” You manager whispered into your ear as you told your members you’ll be heading off as they cheered you one. As you stood up, you couldn’t help but to feel someone looking at you. 

<< prev // next >>  

[ah-musing-musings]

Tropical Storm Nicholas musings

I live in the Houston, TX, US area, actually on the outskirts closer to the coast. Yesterday we experienced our first tropical storm of the hurricane season, Tropical Storm Nicholas. The energies during and after the storms are always so unique.

During the storm it's trepidation, anxiety, worry; the wild animal population panics and they try to find viable shelter to weather the worst of it. Last night a raccoon ran onto my porch; he scared me as much as I scared him, but I wondered and worried about the sweet thing all night. I tried to find the feral cats we feed, hoping the kitten was okay (stay tuned for kitten update; spoiler alert: she's just fine!). I obsessively checked the motorcycles (are they covered? at one point I was sure they'd have been blown off their kickstands, but of course they weren't and I was relieved to see them both upright and covered). Is the back patio safe? Are the chairs blown around? Did anything get removed from the yard? Sitting inside, I could hear the wind howling, shaking my bedroom window, and all I could imagine were terrified raccoons and opossums, cats crying for help as the rain flurried around them; I am exhausted this morning.

The morning after a big storm is always interesting. This morning was more akin to Ike's morning after as opposed to Harvey's morning after, thank the gods. Neighbors sweeping branches and leaves out of their driveways, pulling decorative evergreens back into an upright position (the evergreens have more shallow root systems than say, a live oak; I have only seen a few oaks uprooted by storms [typically tornadoes, which thankfully we don't get many of], but I've seen plenty an evergreen knocked over), clearing storm drains of debris, checking their vehicles and their property for damage. For suburban Houstonians, Ike and Nicholas were very much the same. We experienced minor flooding, 20-30mph winds, and rain. They both sounded worse than they were.

The energy though... being outside and seeing all of these people with nothing in common coming together to help each other... it evokes such a unique emotion, one I truly don't have words for. My heart aches with longing like it's full of appreciation for those who put aside petty differences in others' times of need. Ignorant of meaningless neighborly disputes (they keep me up at night with their barking dog, they parked in front of my house, blah blah blah...), these people come together to serve each other without disdain, without thought of themselves or the past. It both breaks and fills my heart, and it reminds me of being a child without all these perceived grudges and hang-ups. It reminds me of riding my bicycle with neighbor kids, no thought given to age/gender/race/religion; just enjoying the company of others, genuinely enjoying true camaraderie.

Harvey, on the other hand, decimated Houston and its surrounding areas; floodwaters caused drainage systems to fail, and a necessity flood-letting of drainage levees. The release of floodwaters from our flood control systems actually caused more damage than the storm, but it would have been worse if the barriers had broken. Millions without power for weeks on end, without food or water; it was devastating. I feel my mind has blocked out much of Harvey (something that happens frequently when I experience trauma; I call it my "Overactive Trauma Filter Technique") but what I do remember was frantic pounding at my door, a neighbor screaming about floodwaters and endangered vehicles. I was living in an (unfortunately notoriously poor and run-down) apartment complex in August of 2017. I hurriedly grabbed my rain boots and my car keys before bolting outside; the experience was incredibly disorienting. Imagine, being awoken from sleep by frenzied neighbors all trying to salvage their vehicles, then immediately stepping outside into the worst rains in 100 years. My car was indeed in danger of being overcome by the bayou overflowing just a couple hundred yards from the parking lot. I sprinted downstairs, and as soon as I stepped into the parking lot itself I realized my rain boots were ineffective; I ripped them off and... honestly I don't remember if I threw them or if I put them in my car... Some neighbors and I, out of necessity, decided to move the construction fence surrounding the only dry-ish land we spotted. There used to be a building next to mine that burned down about a year before I moved in, and the complex's solution was to leave bare foundation surrounded by a "temporary" construction fence. It took three grown men and myself to slide the fence close enough to the bare foundation, closer to the ghost of the building, so that we had space for our vehicles on the sidewalk and the surrounding grass. I get into my car which, fortunately, was able to start. The only option I have is to drive my little Chevrolet Sonic onto the sidewalk and into the grass, so that's exactly what I did. And glad I did, because it ended up being the only way to save my car from total loss.

The reason I tell this story is to demonstrate how, even in the direst of circumstances and when all seems lost, we can create light. Either by ourselves or with the help of those around us, we can accomplish incredible things. This situation stills warms my heart and occasionally brings me to tears; when I remember how grateful my neighbors and I were for each other that night, how one instance can shatter my cold view of humanity, somehow everything feels okay. If I can cooperate with the neighbor that accused my family member of stealing from him, who got kicked down the stairs by said family member for being aggressive and intoxicated, if I can cooperate with a person like that... then what can we as a collective accomplish when we collaborate with like-minded and like-moraled individuals?

Humanity doesn't always have to suck. Sometimes we surprise even ourselves with our capacity for selflessness and teamwork.

Thanks for reading; let me know in the replies if you have any similar stories of humans overcoming their emotional barricades to benefit the greater collective, or even just a nice story of people being cool!

Hope everyone in the Gulf Coastal area is safe.

p.s. The aforementioned kitten update: she was with her mother this morning! Her mother is tiny, barely larger than the kitten; mother picked her up and hurried into my open garage when she spotted me this morning. It was truly hilarious to see that tiny mother with her baby, almost as big as she was! I made sure to put extra food for them in my garage (I often leave my garage open before and after a storm, to encourage the feral cat population to take shelter and keep them safe).

[irwen-s]

pregnant omega wendy getting taken care of by alpha Irene?

(interpreted this as sfw) i decided to do headcanon format because i had so many ideas to write about wheeze; this ended up become really long. this prompt is like, my excuse to bust out all my abo pregnancy ideas. 

seungwan during her pregnancy is composed and bubbly as usual on the outside, but an overthinking, anxious mess on the inside. she’s cheerful, keeps a positive attitude so as to not worry the people around her, and because she genuinely is really happy about soon having a pup. she’s done all her research too, has read through pregnancy and parenting books, consulted older omegas who have had pups, and eventually takes classes with joohyun in preparation for when she does give birth. 

but seungwan has a lot of thoughts as well as a tendency to overthink, and combined with the usual anxiety every person experiences when pregnant, it means seungwan has more things to worry about and more chances to do so. her nervousness stems from many different things—the state of her pup, her bodys health, her nest, the house, joohyun, her job, being a parent, her pup’s expected due date, the actual delivery . . . its a lot. and seungwan worries. 

so joohyun unsurprisingly ends up being the person who helps keep seungwan calm, soothing her anxieties to the best of her ability. its not just because of her scent and her physical presence, but also her personality in general. joohyun is naturally a nurturing, caring person. during seungwans pregnancy, her maternal instincts are basically at home, making her perfectly fit for the role of caretaker—to both seungwan and their pup. 

—

massages, belly rubs

one obvious example: joohyun jumps on any opportunity available to make things easier for seungwan. as seungwan’s baby bump grows, she ends up experiencing lower back and feet pains, once in a while swollen ankles as well. joohyun takes to giving her frequent leg massages and belly rubs, even without seungwan having to ask.

they’ll be in the living room or bedroom, seungwan resting back against soft pillows as joohyun props her legs in her lap, her hands gentle yet firm as they knead and rub at her sores. seungwan closes her eyes as all the tension leaves her body, and she practically melts with each of joohyuns touches, letting out pleased little huffs and sighs that make joohyun smile quietly. sometimes theyll take turns talking about their day or just random little things, like seungwan recounting an interesting fact she learned from a documentary on tv, and joohyun will listen attentively as she continues her massage.

joohyun also gives her belly rubs. those are much more frequent, the two of them dont even have to sit down with it in mind for it to happen. half the time its just casual touches on joohyuns part. 

during seungwan’s first trimester when her belly isnt as large yet, joohyun loves to hold her from behind with her hands resting against seungwan’s stomach, sometimes gently rubbing, sometimes just feeling. having seungwan nestled against her is always something joohyun enjoys of course, but theres something so right about being able to cradle both her mate and their pup in her arms at the same time. seungwan spends much of her first trimester with joohyun glued to her back, nosing against her nape or her mating mark while her hands wander around the soft swell of her belly, which can be pretty distracting sometimes when seungwan just wants to bake some muffins or something. but its endearing, and seungwan enjoys the extra back hugs too much to really complain. 

planned belly rubs happen after joohyun helps seungwan lie back in bed. she settles down next to seungwan then, hands carefully massaging and rubbing the round, warm skin of seungwans baby bump, making sure to also give attention to the stretch marks near the underside of her belly. honestly, any belly rub feels really good to seungwan when shes pregnant, but its just so much nicer when its joohyuns hands gently touching her. sometimes joohyun cant resist moving closer to rub her face against seungwan’s belly too, making seungwan laugh as she noses along her skin and breathes in seungwan’s scent (which is a lot sweeter and calmer during her pregnancy) while at the same time releasing her own.

sometimes, joohyun offers to give her a massage right when seungwan is beginning to feel more sore or achy than usual. she has no idea how joohyun just seems to know, but her alpha’s always been a person with ridiculously sharp instincts, so. either its that, or joohyun knows magic. 

—

food

joohyun also takes over their cooking. they can both cook pretty decent dishes, but joohyun basically bans seungwan from being in the kitchen alone some time near the end of her first trimester, since she doesnt want seungwan to somehow overexert or hurt herself. she’s only okay with seungwan cooking if joohyun is home with her to supervise (seungwan rolls her eyes while grumbling that joohyun is being too overprotective, but she does follow along, if only to keep the huffy person clinging to her back from fussing over her even more).

also yeah, joohyun does a shit ton of grocery shopping during seungwans pregnancy. as the weeks pass, the frequency of her shopping trips fall inversely proportional to the amount of food she buys—fewer trips, bigger mountains of food each time. usually joohyun would be able to buy only as much as they need, meticulous and precise as always. but seungwans random cravings and the necessity of stockpiling food during the last few weeks of seungwans pregnancy force joohyun to overshop on purpose. 

—

sleeping

 when theyre sleeping, joohyun of course spoons seungwan from behind. she presses her lips to seungwans warm nape while her hand curls around to rest against seungwans baby bump, cradling her close protectively. sometimes she just lies awake, not falling asleep yet, filled with overwhelming love as she listens to seungwan softly breathing, her slow and calming heartbeat. feels beneath her hand the gentle rise and fall of her tummy, the occasional, faint kick from the life thats growing inside her.

—

relationship dynamics

although joohyun is a clingy person, its different from the stereotypical stifling, neck-breathing alphas. she definitely becomes more touchy with seungwan during her pregnancy, but nothing drastically changes in how they treat one another. 

the way joohyun scent marks seungwan is oddly peculiar, but very specific to her. its through their laundry: being a ridiculously sensitive person to smell, joohyun is very, very particular when it comes to how their household’s clothes smell, and a large factor of its scent ends up being joohyuns own scent. every article of clothing seungwan owns and every fabric that ever touches her or makes it into their house goes through joohyuns meticulous examination, laundry, and scenting process first. shes only satisfied when its smells the way she wants it to: distinctively hers, a cool, soft lavender that never fails to soothe seungwan and make her feel at ease. 

its why joohyun doesnt have to always cling to seungwan with the purpose of constantly smothering her in her scent—controlling their laundry is her way of scent marking her omega, oddly enough. 

(around the middle of seungwans second trimester, joohyun comes home to find seungwan having done their laundry as the result of a random spike of energy and nothing else in the house to clean. they get into a petty squabble over it because joohyun is huffing about the detergent and her very precise laundry process, and she ends up making a bigger fuss about it than seungwan, who learns to never try and touch the laundry again. 

“are you sure you aren’t mated to our washing machine instead?”

“darling, you can’t just pour a cup of detergent and fabric softener into there and call it a day. there’s a whole process involved and—”) 

but anyways. joohyun is still a clingy person, and during seungwans pregnancy,  she’s always finding a way to keep at least one part of her touching seungwan. if she doesnt have her arm hooked around seungwan’s, she has a gentle hand resting against seungwan’s lower back, a shoulder brushing against her or fingers clutching onto her hip. joohyun generally tries not to constantly touch seungwans belly when they’re in public so as to avoid coming off as an overbearing alpha. 

that also means joohyun makes sure to give seungwan her own space. even though shes protective and worried about seungwan, her clumsy omega thats constantly tripping over things—to which joohyuns like, someday youre going to give me a heart attack—she knows better than to try and stop seungwan from doing everything. 

seungwan will go around the house, cleaning or organizing and rearranging their furniture, sometimes cooking or baking, maybe just randomly pacing in thought. sometimes she takes walks outside in their neighborhood to clear her mind or for the change in scenery. its a little endearing because while seungwan is moving around doing these things, joohyun is usually trailing after her a few paces behind, attentive and alert as she follows her tiny, bustling omega around the place. wherever seungwan is, if joohyun isnt attached to one of seungwans body parts, shes almost always a distance away, tailing her like a quiet shadow. 

—

relationship dynamics with others

when theyre with close friends, joohyun isnt all that on protective with seungwan and behaves pretty normally. seulgi is a beta, yerim an omega. the only issue joohyun ends up having is with sooyoung, their other alpha. even though joohyun rationally knows sooyoung is someone completely trustworthy around seungwan, her alpha instincts constantly cloud her attempts to make logical judgments. the few times seungwan ends up being in the same room as sooyoung during her pregnancy, joohyun is struggling to keep her alpha instincts from lashing out.

(its understandable, though. seungwan and sooyoung get it. throughout seungwans pregnancy, seulgi and yerim visit more often in person, but seungwan frequently contacts sooyoung through video call or phone call, and their group chat stays very active with texts.)

joohyun is basically restless whenever seungwan is near any alpha that isnt her. although she isnt physically crowding close to seungwan or possessively holding onto her, she’s visibly tenser and more alert, pupils darkened warningly in the direction of other alphas nearby. during those moments, seungwan usually has to be the one to pull her close and let joohyun latch onto her, soothing her alpha with her own scent until joohyun relaxes a little and comes back to herself, nuzzling back into seungwan. 

also, the two of them kind of mellow out during this time. theyre not as crazy (or horny) as before during seungwans heats and joohyuns ruts, being noticeably calmer and more domestic. naturally. theyre already considered the parent line in their group, but its become very apparent how much theyve truly grown into the title. 

—

nesting

to joohyun, seungwan nesting is pretty cute even though her tiny omega takes it very seriously. she gathers all their blankets and cushions and pillows into an elaborately complex pile on their bed, and joohyun often comes home to her arranging different parts of the nest or sorting through their drawers, sniffing and picking out specific clothes to add. 

its a little messy, because seungwan is an omega on a mission and hence has single minded focus on nesting; unsatisfactory clothes get tossed over her shoulder while other items lay scattered about the bedroom. joohyun quickly joins in to help, obediently following seungwans directions while also trailing behind her picking up anything left stranded in the wake of seungwans nitpicking.

joohyun also definitely runs out to buy more pillows and blankets, of course filtering them through her personal laundry process first so theyre all perfectly scented by her in order to be usable to seungwan—who is so used to having all her things smell like joohyuns mix of alpha and laundry lavender that she’s only comfortable with this. 

seulgi, sooyoung, and yerim had offered their own assortment of cushions and blankets, but joohyun is really picky about smells and about what things belong to who, so she doesnt want seungwan to borrow other peoples things at all. 

as for the actual nesting process, seungwans nest undergoes a lot of reconstruction and rearrangements. its not just because of the characteristic omega necessity to make the nest as satisfactory as possible, its also because seungwans personality is that of a perfectionist. so she just keeps scuttling around and fixing different parts of her nest, adding and removing shirts and blankets, and joohyun eventually begins to realize that seungwan is just looking around for more stuff to add, even though the nest is perfect already, because nothing is ever going to meet her standards. 

joohyun learns to pick up the signs then, to catch on to when seungwans fussing over the nest goes from genuine need to reorder things to anxiety over achieving perfection. its then that she gently coaxes seungwan to relax and nestle into her arms, guiding her nervous, tiny omega into her nest as joohyun rubs her baby bump and soothes her until she settles down. tummy rubs especially come in handy to help seungwan both calm down and sleep because she absolutely melts and mewls whenever joohyun does them. 

by the time seungwans second trimester comes to an end and she enters her third, the bedroom has basically become the living room—all the cushions and pillows have been hoarded inside, and seungwan spends almost all her time there now. there are also parenting and pregnancy books and guides scattered all around the place, and seungwan is usually in her nest reading or researching while rubbing her belly. joohyun ends up using the tv in their bedroom more so she can be with seungwan, curling around her and nosing into her skin.  

(also, seungwan is practically always playing music aloud in her nest, and if she isnt engrossed in research, shes organizing her playlists or sorting through her music collection for the right songs. joohyun realizes somewhere along the way that she can gauge what kind of mood swing seungwan is in the midst of through what kind of music shes playing.) 

—

other headcanons

joohyun is the only alpha in her family—everyone else are betas. so her protective, nurturing nature has been something shes developed ever since she was young. 

seungwan starts to sleep a lot more during her second trimester, so joohyun often comes home to find her dozing off while curled up in her nest. it melts her heart every time, and she quickly ends up crawling in to nestle against her back, arms coming to rest over her belly as she cuddles close and breathes in seungwans familiar, soothing scent.

joohyun eventually has to help bathe seungwan. seungwan is a little flustered by the ordeal because even though theyve been mated for a long while now, shes always been independent. so she feels bad about joohyun having to do this for her. not to mention she sometimes gets a little self-conscious about her baby bump. but joohyun tells her that if seungwan were in her place, she would do the same for joohyun. and that to joohyun, seungwan will always be perfectly imperfect in her beauty, stretch marks and swollen belly and all. 

during doctor appointments, seungwan takes notes and asks questions while joohyun listens quietly. she usually lets seungwan take the lead when it comes to the health side of things, since she doesnt want to get in the way of seungwans need to gather information and understand everything related to her pregnancy. joohyun comes along as . . . emotional support at this point. for when seungwan starts getting panicky. 

joohyun is protective of seungwan and will face anything. anything except spiders because killing them is still seungwans designated job, even four months into her pregnancy and joohyun is running screaming from the kitchen into the living room to latch onto seungwan in fright. seungwan nearly trips over her own feet from laughing when she sees joohyun trying to hide behind her baby bump. 

theyre both light sleepers and joohyun clings to seungwans back like a koala in her sleep. so whenever seungwan has late night snack cravings and crawls out of bed, she ends up dragging sleepy and tired joohyun along with her. sometimes seungwan wants food outside though, so joohyun ends up driving them around at like three in the morning while seungwan keeps changing her mind about what she wants  to eat. she falls asleep at some point and joohyun just sighs grumpily, but with obvious fondness as she drives them back home.

[utopianvoices]

bittersweet | k.seungmin

↭ genre: barista au; fluff 

↭ word count: 4.24k

↭ description: Your blind date went to the depths of shit, but was that an entirely bad thing?

↭ a/n: finally a seungmin fic aksdj i always feel some kind of guilt when i don’t see fics under certain members :( it’s also not proofread oops hehe hope y’all like it!! x 

↭ warnings: explicit language

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

“Come on, Y/n. Just one date?” your best friend pestered you. “You haven’t been out in that field for months and don’t you think it’s time to move on from Mr. Dickhead?” 

“This is the fifth time you’re asking me this week, and my answer is still no, Minho,” you said calmly, letting out a sigh once again, shaking your head. “You’re making me sigh so much, I’m going to grow older faster.”

Truth be told, you were heartbroken.

It was your first-ever relationship, lasting for about a year and a half when suddenly, said boyfriend wasn’t giving you as much attention and love as before. No calls, no texts, fewer meetups, and more avoidance. 

It had started about a year into your relationship — which you thought to be the happiest time of your relationship, seeing that you had reached the first milestone. But fate had different plans.

Initially, you just made excuses for him, blaming it on practices (he was on the school’s basketball team), convincing yourself that he couldn’t hang out with you because he was too tired after practice. But once off-seasons hit, you were left with no other reason to hold on to your relationship. The truth was glaring in your face, and yet you still decided to put on your pair of ignorant sunglasses and carry on as if nothing was wrong.

The first hit was when you saw him out at a restaurant with his teammates, after telling you that he was not able to hang out with you because he was down with a really bad flu and had to stay in bed. 

It was like the whole universe was trying to convince you to let him go, that he was definitely not worth your time and energy.

You still didn’t let go. 

Years of watching clichéd and unrealistic rom-coms had started to take its toll on the rational part of your brain, the part that was screaming the very obvious and correct answer at you, every time you saw him. You wished you had listened to that part of you, because a few days later, you saw him show up to school with another girl, arms around her waist, looking the happiest he has ever looked. 

Your eyes met from across the hallway, one pair reflecting hurt and the other nonchalance. He felt zero remorse for what he had done, and that was what hurt the most. 

"Am I bad in relationships?” you asked out of the blue, surprising the boy beside you. “Am I going to be single for the rest of my life?” 

“No, Y/n. You’re not bad. You just happened to fall for the wrong person. But trust me, when you find the right one, you’ll have a blast because that’s what you deserve,” Minho said firmly, sending you a slight smile at the end of his little speech.

“You know, you’re not that bad when you’re not acting like a sassy little bitch,” you say, blocking the pillow that came flying towards not a second later, soft chuckles escaping your mouth. “But really, thanks Minho. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Die alone.”

“And, he’s back,” you say, rolling your eyes at your intolerable best friend. “So... Um, what were you saying about that date?”

And as those words leave your mouth, you get the shock of your life, because you have never seen your best friend get that excited.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

Pushing the door to the little coffee shop near your campus, the little bell tinkles above your head, causing a series of “Welcome” to echo through your ears as the workers behind the cafe put on the brightest and fakest smile to make sure you believe that they’re having the time of their lives working long hours after school, and occasionally dealing with snobs just to make sure they’re able to afford basic necessities such as air, water, food, and shelter. 

Walking up to the counter, you are served by a face you had never seen before, considering the fact that you were a regular and loyal customer. If your mind wasn’t occupied with pre-date jitters, you totally would’ve chosen the table at the far right — perfect view, and all — to admire the faces stressing out behind the counter. 

“Hi! What can I get you today?” the boy speaks up, flashing you a smile that almost made you think he enjoyed serving you. 

“I’ll get a vanilla latte, please,” you say, fishing around your bag for your wallet, as the boy in front of you entered your order into the machine. After considering it for a while, you decided to get something for your date as well. “Actually make that two vanilla lattes. And a chocolate chip muffin too.”

The boy nods, adding your extra orders in. “Can I get your name?” he asks, grabbing a marker, tip hovering over the plastic cup, as waited for an answer.

“Y/n.”

“Nice name,” he said with a smile, not looking up at you as he wrote it down. “Here for a first date?”

Taken aback by his straightforward behaviour, you look up, surprised that he had noticed. “Yea, how’d you notice?” 

He moves over a few steps towards the coffee machine, as he starts prepping your drink, causing your feet to involuntarily shuffle towards the direction in which he was moving. 

“Your body language kind of gave it away,” he started, speaking over the loud coffee machine. “Psych major, and all that. Why so nervous?”

Ah.

“It’s because I don’t even know the guy,” you said, and immediately realising how that sounded, frantically added more to your sentence. “I mean, it’s a blind date, of sorts. My best friend wouldn’t stop bugging me to go on a date because apparently, I need to move on from horribles ex’s.”

The boy in front of you nodded understandingly, finishing up your order during your little rant. You were not sure why you opened up to him —a complete stranger. But somehow it didn’t feel forced. On the contrary, it felt almost natural.

“Well, here’s your order Ms. Y/n, and I hope you have a great date!” he said, passing you the tray with your drinks and confectionary on it, nodding with a smile as he noticed you had tipped him quite generously. What? Anyone who listened to one of your rants deserved some kind of compensation. 

Mhm, sure. Definitely not because he was cute or anything. 

You rolled your eyes to yourself, ignoring the little voice that was whispering absurd but otherwise true things in your mind. 

You walk over to the back of the cafe and whip out your phone, tapping on your frequently contacted list and drafting a message to the number at the top of that list.

you: whr is he cat boy: patience, little one. he said he’s reaching cat boy: you’re sitting at the back right? you: yea cat boy: he said he’s there. look for someone wearing red plaid. g’luck be urself  cat boy: but not too much bcs u’ll scare him away you: gtfo cat boy: if he says anything stupid or is mean just sent me a text. he might be sung’s friend, but anyone who messes with my best friend answers to my hammer-like fists you: mjölnir is shaking in thor’s hands

Putting your phone away, you look up, and true enough, you see a rather dashing boy in red plaid, standing at the entrance and looking towards the back of the cafe in confusion. Unsure of what to do, you awkwardly raise your hand, in hopes that he would understand your pathetic attempts in trying to get him to notice you without attracting too much attention. 

Soon enough the both of you made eye contact, a smile blooming on his face as he walked over towards you.

“Hi, I’m Hyungsik! Jisung’s friend,” he said, extending a hand out. “You must be Y/n.”

You reach over and shake his hand, returning his smile with your own, letting out a “yes” to his question. 

“I got a drink for you!” you said, pushing one of the lattes towards him. “I didn’t know what you’d like so I just went with a safe option,”

“Oh no,  I don’t drink coffee from here,” he said, pushing the cup back towards you. “The ingredients are cheap and low quality, my body just won’t be able to accept it.”

Thinking back to the days where you lived off of instant noodles because you just were too lazy to cook for yourself, or when you finished a whole tub of ice cream while watching a movie, you felt your face slowly heat up as you let out an awkward chuckle, hoping that he’d drop that topic.

“Actually I wouldn’t really have chosen this place — not really my scene. I usually go over to the cafe on Main Street,” he continued, adding more and more details about the exquisite dishes they serve there and the ingredients they use. 

Just as you were starting to zone out (something that you should never be doing on a date), another question was thrown in your way. 

“So, Y/n, what is your family like?”

“Uh, so I have my parents and no siblings. They live in-” you started, but got cut off almost right after. 

“Mhm interesting. Do they own any companies or any own businesses?” 

Now you were confused. 

“No they don’t?” you answered, your answer sounding more like a question. 

You noticed the slight fall of expression from his face, as he heard that you were not some rich spoiled brat who got plenty of money from her parents. 

“I see. Because you know, my ex-girlfriend’s parents had this huge company? Really rich people, just like my parents,” he continued, once again falling into a whole ramble about how great his ex-girlfriend was or something like that; you weren’t listening. 

Instead, you were hurriedly typing on your phone, as you just continued to smile and nod at something the boy in front of you was saying. 

you: sos you: can you call me and start crying or smth you: i’m going to kill myself if i hear him talk about how his dog shits gold or wtv you: minhO CHECK UR PHONE ITS A LEVEL 9 EMERGENCY you: ugh you suck

Realising that your best friend wasn’t going to come to your rescue, you resorted to cutting the boy off with the lamest excuse you can think of.

“Hey, can you give me a moment? My hands are kind of dirty after eating the muffin,” you say, slowly getting up even before you could receive an answer. 

“Um sure,” the boy in front of you said, looking slightly perturbed at the fact that someone could even afford to get their hands dirty. Not in his rich household. 

Shooting him a final smile, you walk over to the small sink at the side of the cafe, gripping the sides of the sink as you regulate your breathing, unsure of how to get away from that not-so-amazing date you were having. 

“Need help?” 

Your head whipped up at the familiar voice, as the barista who made you your order stood beside you, tray in hand, as he looked upon you with concern. Who would blame him though — you looked like you were about to enter panic mode any moment.

“I-I, uh-” you stuttered, internally smacking yourself for not being able to form coherent sentences making you look more of an idiot than you already seemed like. But thankfully, someone was able to put two and two together. 

“Bad date, huh?” he said, setting the tray down on the counter beside him and shooting you a sad smile. 

You let out a breath of relief, somewhat happy that you didn’t have to explain yourself. “Yeah. I’m trying to think of ways to escape.”

“I’ve got an idea. Wanna hear it?”

“Colour me interested.”

Smiling at your response, the boy laid out his plans in front of you, making you both feel like you were in another episode of True Detective or something. 

“When you go back there, just make small conversation for five minutes. My shift’s over, so I’ll come there and pretend to be your best friend, saying there’s some emergency. Once we convince him that someone’s dying, we’ll go out the back door and escape from there. Cool?”

“Totally cool.”

With an encouraging nod from the boy in front of you, you take a deep breath and walk towards the dreaded table at the back, as you see your date scrolling through his phone, impatient sighs escaping him every 10 seconds. 

“I’m back!” you say, faking some enthusiasm as you finally take a seat. “Sorry, there was a problem with the... tap.”

Hearing your voice, Hyungsik set his phone down onto the table, smiling at your return. “Ah, you see, that’s the problem with these low-quality cafes. Nothing ever works right.”

And just like that, you both were back to your conversation about how he thought Gucci was better than Louis Vuitton. Not that you could relate, your go-to was definitely plain ol’ H&M.

As promised, four minutes later, you were met with a frantic looking boy, dressed in a dark blue denim jacket and a pair of black jeans. 

“Hey Y/n! I’ve been trying to call your phone for the past half an hour! You’ve got to come with me now,” he said, hands flailing around frantically as you were trying to best to hold back the laugh that was threatening to spill out any moment. 

“Hey....” you started, coming to a sudden halt as you realised something. You didn’t know this boy’s name. But you were not going to let that small setback hinder your whole plan. 

“Hey... Bob! Long time no see,” you say, mentally facepalming yourself for thinking of the lamest name ever. “What’s up? Sorry, I’m just on a really amazing date right now that I couldn’t check my phone.”

Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a bit, but who cares? You had to milk out the best outcome possible from this little skit. 

“Oh hi. I’m Bob, Y/n’s best friend. Sorry to cut your amazing date short, but I really gotta bring Y/n with me now. Her dog was just admitted to the hospital,” he said, not even sparing Hyungsik, who was now looking extremely confused, a glance. 

“What? I better leave now. Sorry for cutting the date short, Hyungsik!” you said, quickly grabbing your things and leaving before your date figured out what was happening with your terrible acting. 

“Yea... See you-” Hyungsik started, but was left alone before he could finish his sentence. 

You sprint out the back door, as planned, with “Bob” leading the way, falling into a heap of laughter as you were sure the door was closed behind you. 

“What kind of a name is Bob?! Seriously, Y/n?” the boy asked, trying to catch his own breath after the laughing fit. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t do well under pressure!” you defended yourself, wiping the stray tears that escaped the corners of your eyes. “Hey, but thank you so much for helping me out. I probably would’ve gone mad.”

“Anytime!” he said, finally settling down only to warm your heart with a small smile on his face. “It’s Seungmin, by the way.”

“Definitely better than Bob.”

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

As you open the door to your shared apartment, you are almost immediately engulfed in a hug, as this person hugging you chants “I’m sorry” over and over again like some cult leader. 

“Okay, Minho, I got it. You can let go now.”

“I can’t believe I forgot to charge my phone like who does that?” your best friend screeched, tugging at his hair as he looked at you as if he had committed a murder. “I’m a horrible best friend.” 

You roll your eyes at his dramatic antics and grab him by the collar, dragging him towards the couch and throwing him on it. “Nobody died. I’m alive and fine. Phones die all the fucking time. Get your shit together, Lee Minho.”

“B-but...” your friend stuttered, pout already forming on his lips. 

If there was one thing about Minho that everyone knew about, it was his tendency to blame everything on himself. Even if it wasn’t his fault and he had no control over it whatsoever. 

“Enough about that. Are you gonna hear my interesting story or not?” you said, a playful smirk playing at your lips as your best friend perks up at the fact that you were about to share your day with him. 

Nodding his head to signify that he was ready and listening, you narrated that day’s happenings. 

“So, basically he was cute and all, but all he could talk about was how high class he was? And how he didn’t like to enter, and I quote, low-class cafes,” you say, earning an offended gasp from Minho. “And on top of that, he looked disappointed when he found out that I didn’t own some hugeass business or whatever.” 

“Dick.” 

“Mhm, right. That’s when I messaged you and tried my best to get out of the situation, but you couldn’t reply,” you continue, hastily adding on a “but that wasn’t your fault because phone batteries suck,” when you see Minho’s face drop into a slight pout. 

“I had to get out of that place so I just went over to the sink and tried to think of ways to escape when the barista that took my order offered to help,��� you say, thinking back to Seungmin’s cute smile. “So he just came over and pretended to be my best friend and said there was an emergency and kind of just dragged me away through the back door.” 

You were unaware of the fact that your face softened at the mention of your saviour, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the boy in front of you, who was studying your every facial expression since you started your little story. 

“Barista, huh?” Minho started, smirk evident on his face. “Was he cute?” 

You slowly felt the heat creep up your cheeks as you fiddled with your fingers, a sign that you were flustered. 

“Does it matter?” 

“Yes, yes it does, Y/n. It matters a whole lot,” Minho teased, glad that he had grabbed the perfect opportunity to annoy you. “It matters because the blush on your face is giving me many, many indications on how you feel about this barista of yours.”

“Shut your mouth, dipshit. There’s nothing like that,” you counter, desperately praying for the heat to leave your face.

“Whatever you say, m’love.” 

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time, leaving to prepare for bed, as that day’s events replayed in your mind. You weren’t sure how to feel about the barista occupying your mind, but all you knew was that you had to see him again. 

After all, you didn’t manage to get his number. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

The familiar ring of the small bell fills your ear as you step foot into the same cafe you were in four days ago. You had actually planned to go the day after, but you were, sadly, a college student who apparently had to go to classes to make sure your grades don’t fall below expectations. 

“Welcome to SKZ ca-” Seungmin started, instinctively, until he saw the person who had entered the cafe. “Y/n! You’re back!” 

“I am!” you say, with equal enthusiasm, as you walk up towards the counter and get your wallet ready. 

“Another blind date?” Seungmin teased, wiping his hands on a paper towel as he walked up towards the main counter. 

“Shut up,” you deadpanned, shaking your head at the boy’s little jab. “I came here for some caffeine because I am currently behind on my assignments and I don’t really feel like repeating this semester. Any drinks to recommend?” 

“Relatable,” Seungmin grimaced, thinking about the pile of assignments in his bag that was locked up in the staff locker. “How about an iced americano? The ice will definitely make sure that you’re wide awake, maybe more so than the coffee itself.”

“Sure, anything to keep me from snoring away on that table,” you replied, letting a tired sigh escape your lips. “I wish Minho was here to study with me, ugh. I hate studying alone.” 

Although that last sentence was muttered under your breath, Seungmin’s ear still caught it, his mind immediately whirring with solutions. 

“I finish my shift in about an hour,” he started cautiously, not knowing what your answer would be. “Maybe, we could study together?” 

You freeze on the spot and slowly look up at the boy in front of you, unsure if you had heard him correctly, but the look on his face told you that you had heard him perfectly well. 

You let out a breathy laugh and nod your head. “Sure, I’d love that.” 

“Great! Drink’s on me then!” Seungmin grinned, fishing out his own card to pay for your drink and the muffin (he took the liberty to add it in for you), and left to make the drink before you could even start to protest. 

You shake your head and walk towards the table against the window, big enough for two people, and set your heavy bag down as you plopped onto one of the seats. 

Not wasting any time, you grab your laptop and your notes, diving right into your assignments, afraid that you’d change your mind and go back home if you procrastinated one second longer. 

One hour later, you’re halfway through your drink and there are crumbs left on the pastry plate, as you hurriedly type away on your laptop, initially not noticing Seungmin walking towards your table, out of his work attire and school bag slung over his shoulders. 

“Move slightly forward and you’ll fall into your computer screen,” a familiar voice rang out, causing you to snap out of your bubble and focus on the boy taking his seat in front of you. “I’m surprised you don’t wear glasses.”

“I do wear glasses, just not often,” you replied, going back to your essay on how Shakespeare had made a change in the world’s arts. Seriously, who cared. All you got out from your literature lectures were that you could annoy Minho by talking in Shakespearean English for a whole day. He definitely did not appreciate that. 

Realising that you were in your zone and that he shouldn’t disturb you, Seungmin grabbed his own pile of worries and got to work, the fatigue of working a four-hour shift after school slowly catching up to him. 

Three hours later, and you finally stop tapping away incessantly on your computer, leaning back in your chair and stretching your arms above your head. 

“Hey Seungmin, I’m do-” you started, but abruptly cut yourself off as you see Seungmin’s head resting on his hand, eyes closed as he let out even breaths, indicating that he was fast asleep. 

Seeing that he was exploring dreamland, you took this opportunity to admire the boy’s features, in a non-creepy way, of course. The way his left cheek was slightly chubbier than his right, and the little mole on his cheek, or even how brown his eyes we- Wait. 

You shouldn’t be able to see the colour of his eyes if he was sleeping. 

Just like that, you stare into the eyes of the cute barista in front of you, unable to tear your gaze away, even as colour rushes to your cheek as you realise that you have been caught admiring him. 

“Take a picture, Y/n, it’ll last longer,” he said, not passing up on the opportunity to tease you even though it had been less than a minute since he was awake. 

“I-I wasn’t staring,” you started, immediately falling into defensive mode, as embarrassment took over every cell in your body. “I was about to wake you up, okay.”

“Sure,” he humoured you, but not stopping the smile that was spreading across his face. 

“Oh, look at the time! It’s time for me to go back!” you said, frantically packing up your things as you wished to get away from the cafe as far as possible until you were sure that your heart wasn’t going to burst. 

But just as you were reaching for the last piece of paper on your desk, a hand stopped you, forcing you to look up at the boy who’s eyes you had been avoiding for the past few minutes. 

“Um, do you think we can do this tomorrow?” he started, eyes darting around everywhere except your eyes. “But without the studying?”

You could feel your heart abruptly stop, as your mind slowly processed the question that had just left Seungmin’s mouth. Was he implying what you thought was implying? The only way to find out was to ask. 

“Like a date?” you asked, voice small due to the lack of courage. 

“Like a date,” the boy confirms, eyes finally meeting yours, as he awaits your answer. 

It hadn’t been long since you met him, but you couldn’t deny the fact that something was blossoming between you, whether it be a strong friendship or something more. And you were willing to find out.

“Let’s do it.” 

∞ end ∞

[spirit-of-the-void]

Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 7

Author’s Notes: Kiss those sewers goodbye, cause I certainly am.

Chapter 7

It felt like you had traveled through the sewers for hours.

Which was a complete nightmare in your opinion. You lost count of all the minor battles you and the others had gotten into. And to be honest—you were beginning to feel the strain. Your limit was increasing, sure, but you also could feel exertion coming in any fight now. The sewer had eventually led your group into a cargo barge. Which was somehow worse. The enemy from early was now above you and the rest of the group, slamming its strange feet through the top roof of the cargo ship and leaving you no choice but to attack it. You hardly had a chance to sit and rest with the poet at all, and both of you were showing the strain. Food was helping in its own way, but it could only do so much with all the fights.

Griffon and Shadow were trying to keep you in high spirits throughout the process, you could tell. Shadow rubbing gently against your legs and Griffon keeping the conversations light and, shockingly, insult free. You appreciated the effort, but you were eager to be free of the underground locations—you enjoyed the open air far more than the stuff, blood-filled stench of the sewers. The exhaustion was also making your filter slip a bit, which was definitely bad. You had to stop yourself from telling V you’d straight up suck his cock for a god damn shower. The poet was laid back, but not enough for you to say that to him. The inside of your cheek was raw from you biting it—it was either that or biting your nails and lips, which was way more visible.

Regardless, you and the others pressed on, only stopping once when your group heard Nero’s voice calling from above you. 

V stopped immediately, gaze darting up to see Nero looking down at all of you from one of the holes punched in the ceiling. He looked a little banged up, out of breath from fighting what looked to be the huge thing from before—you had to give him props. You didn’t even want to begin to touch that thing in a fight, but he seemed to be holding his own fairly well. You heard it collapse moments before, realizing pretty fast just who was fighting the creature in all its glory. Nero was not a quiet battler by any stretch of the word—he was extra and boisterous, and boy did he curse a lot.

He blinked down at all of you, huffing out air as he asked, “What the hell are you guys doing down there?”

Griffon let out a light scoff, gesturing with his beak to the creature weakly moving behind the white-haired boy.

“You didn’t think you did that all by yourself, did ya?” He puffed his feathers up in smug amusement, making you smile a bit. Griffon was a big boaster, but in reality, you guys hadn’t done all that much. Attacking the legs was more out of necessity than anything.

Regardless, Nero didn’t seem impressed. A smirk was on his lips as he crouched down, sword slung over his shoulder as he replied, “Y’kno, I bet you taste like chicken.”

Griffon’s smug amusement immediately turned to annoyance, the bird releasing annoyed huffs as he growled, “Oh, you ungrateful son of a—”

V stuck out his cane, stopping the bird from flying up at the boy. He seemed unfazed, smirking at their banter. Griffon let out an annoyed grunt and backing down from the conflict, flying back to your shoulders, muttering curses as he angrily settled himself on his favorite perch. You gave him a light pat on the head, smiling ruefully at him when you met his gaze. He and Nero seemed pretty prone to butting heads, you’d have to keep that in mind.

Nero’s gaze slid to you next, looking you over with a hint of worry. That is if you weren’t mistaken, you were pretty worn out and reading people was a bit difficult.  

“How are you holdin’ up, Y/N?” He asked, jerking his chin in your direction, “Is jackass there bothering you?”  

Jackass, in reference to Griffon. The bird let out another angry squawk, glaring daggers at Nero. You smiled up at him, shaking your head no.

“I’m okay,” You replied, giving him a small, albeit friendly wave of your hand, “We’ve been fighting a lot of demons down here.”

Nero let out understanding grunt, squeezing the hilt of his sword, “You’re tellin’ me. It’s been a mad house out here.”

You gave an apologetic smile, watching as V turned a few steps to point his cane up at the creature behind Nero, slowly rising to its huge feet.

“We’ll leave this beast to you,” He said in a light purr, giving Nero a passing glance as he began walking down another tunnel, “We must press on.”

Nero let out a light huff, still wearing that smirk as he rose to his feet again. You managed another wave, turning with Griffon still clinging to your shoulders and muttering to himself. For someone who gave a lot of shit, Griffon seemed pretty easily angered when receiving shit back. You were lucky enough to make peace and now have light banter with the bird—a mutual understanding of sorts. He dished out insults and now you were almost allowed to throw them back, and Griffon got a kick out of it. You were glad for that at least, it made conversations a lot more fun to have.  

“Can believe you waved at that asshole,” Griffon huffed, sounding particularly moody, “Little miss friendly. Little miss nice to everyone. Completely fucking unreal.”

You smiled innocently, giving his head another light pat as you cooed, “Aww does someone need a hug? Was that big bad demon hunter mean to you?”

“Ha ha, look at you the big comedian,” Griffon mocked, puffing out his feathers and snapping his beak by your ear, “When are you takin’ that shit on tour, toots? I’ll buy tickets.”

You laughed, the sound having a bit of a tired edge, “You think I’d make you buy tickets? You shame me, Griffon,” You tapped his talons, letting out a light hum as you added, “I’d get you tickets for you, free of charge.”

He let out a light trill, rolling his eyes as he leaned his head back and squawked mockingly, “I’m touched, I really am.”

You laughed lightly again, knowing the little fight had no weight when Griffon snickered too. V was walking slightly ahead of you, but you think you heard him let out a bemused “Hmm” at you both chatting. You quickened your steps to catch up with the poet. You wished you could ease his fatigue a bit, but being so close to exertion was a slippery slope for you both. You didn’t want to be a burden during the fighting, it was best saved for emergencies. Still, you worriedly looked at V as he trudged along, jumping down a hole in the cargo barge and leading into what looked to be—more sewers. You groaned aloud, leaning against a wall and releasing all your inner torment in one long stream.

Griffon let out a light snicker, flapping his wings as he hovered in front of you.

“Ladies and gentlemen—we've lost her,” He announced, seeming pretty damn amused about it, “You wanna lie down and take a nap, toots? Need a hug?” Mocking your comment from earlier it would seem. Joke was on him; you liked hugs and definitely wouldn’t mind one.

You glared at him, though the action had no actual heat, “Laugh it up, bird. But I’d sooner die than lie down on this floor.”

Griffon let out another light peal of laughter, circling back around to V, who was leaning against a wall as well. He had a less than pleased look himself, eyeing your frown with one of his own. One of the few moments you had seen him displeased. He was exhausted too, that much you could definitely tell. He was huffing lightly after a few steps of walking, dark circles under his eyes as he rose a hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose a bit. You felt nervousness swirl in your stomach, debating expending the energy anyway just to help him.

“V...” You began to say, ready to activate your tendrils to latch on to him.

He let out a low, rumbling hum at you, opening his eyes again to skewer you with a sharp gaze. You immediately froze, a worried look in your eyes as you stopped in place.

“Don’t even think about it,” He murmured, eyeing you with a searching gaze of his own as he tipped his cane in your direction, “You’re reaching your own limits, I can tell.”  

“Yeah?” You countered in a challenging tone, “And how can you tell that? Not that you’re right.”

He let out a light “Hmm” at you, raising a brow at your defensive tone.

“Because I know you,” He replied in a smug voice, “Had you actually had energy to spend, you would have done it before now.”

You let out a low mumble, hating that he was right. You pushed off from the wall, eyeing your surroundings with displeasure as you contemplated if you and your group should just find a place to rest. You had spent a good portion of time down there—it had to be night sooner or later. Though the only thing stopping you now was the fact that sewers were crawling with demons, there were no safe places to rest. Sleeping out in the open was definitely not a smart thing to do, a risk not worth taking after such a long day of fighting. If you could get skyward, you could find maybe an abandoned apartment and crash there. Or maybe call Nico and see if she would let you crash in the van.  

V, however, had different plans. He pushed off from the wall as well, pointing his cane down at the ground. You watched Shadow turn their head, immediately turning back into their normal essence at V’s feet. You blinked, wondering just what the hell he was doing. He gripped the cane, pressing it into the cloud of essence before turning and holding his hand out to you.  

“Here,” He said in that sultry purr, offering you a half smile, “This will make for faster travel.”

You blinked in confusion, taking his hand but hesitating to step onto what you knew was damn well Shadow underneath his feet.

“This won't hurt Shadow will it?” You said nervously, gaze still down on the floor.

He gave your hand a light squeeze, his skin warm and the sensation making your stomach do a quick flip. Whoops, that probably wasn’t a good sign. Your brain needed to calm down.

“They won’t feel any pain,” He promised, tugging you forward so you were forced to step onto the essence as well, “This form has many uses."

The sensation you felt upon stepping onto the swirling essence was strange—like is was both hard yet not at the same time. You tested your weight, still worried about the cat’s well-being underneath you and V. You trusted the poet, but it was still in your nature to feel concern about it. Much to your continued surprise, V pulled you closer to him. Right against him, in fact. You were suddenly right against his back, the goth pulling your arms around his waist so you were hugging him from behind. Oh no. Your heartbeat immediately went crazy, pounding in your chest. His height was vastly different from yours, your face pressed into his upper back as his hands released you.

“Hold on tight.” He said in a soft, sultry voice, your eyes catching a glimpse of that half smirk as he turned away. He seemed pretty amused, but from where your hands were you could feel his heart beating fast. You blinked—maybe that was from him exerting himself?

You didn’t dwell on it long. You heard Griffon let out a low, amused chortle, catching his knowing gaze just a moment before his dissolved back into his Master’s form. You fought a groan—Griffon totally caught you red faced and dazed at being so close to the god damn sandal-wearing goth. You were going to hear about that later, you knew that much. You were lucky Griffon at least had tact in that department, he rarely said embarrassing shit in front of V about it. Rarely. That little quip earlier when he returned from death was still pretty unwarranted. Bastard bird wasn't going to make things easy on you.

Regardless.

V suddenly tilted his cane forward, sending your thoughts careening away from your musings as you and he were moving fast through the sewer. You gasped, griping the goth tighter as you sped along, staring in wonder at the ground as it swept by. Shadow was a swirling mass under you both, gliding you and V quickly through the winding tunnels, through new locations you hadn’t seen yet. Your foresight flared a couple of times, but the goth made it past a lot of the barriers before they could even form. Thank god for that at least; you couldn’t take being covered in anymore demon guts and blood. You sighed softly. The time in the Void had definitely taken some of your stamina and strength—you remembered being able to fight for a whole day without rest before. Not being able to do so now was understandable but frustrating.

You contented yourself in enjoying the moment, resting your face against V’s back and closing your eyes. It was easy to tell this close how skinny he was—his wiry frame shifted and moved under your hands, tilting when you needed to turn. The leather of his vest still managed to smell nice, fresh in a way despite all the fighting. With Griffon not present, you could luckily rest as much as you want without feeling too embarrassed about clinging to V. The poet didn’t seem to mind either, although you couldn’t see his face. You hoped this wasn’t hindering him in anyway.

This new form of travel made quick work of finally, blessedly, leaving the sewers. You let out a delighted gasp as you finally neared a tunnel with brighter light, a low hole open in the ceiling that was big enough for you to pass through. To your slight disappointment, you could see rain pattering through the hole instead of the sun, but that was heavily welcome over the dank warmth of the tunnels. You felt V turn an arm, wrapping it around your waist as Shadow sent you both launching out of the hole, into the fresh, damp air. Water pattered on your face the instant you landed, a cry of delight leaving you as you plopped down on the ground and tilted your head back. Thank the lord, the choir, and all the angels. Rain had never felt so damn good.

You heard V let out a chuckle, sitting down on a piece of nearby rubble as Shadow reformed, letting out a disgruntled roar and shaking the rain out of their fur. You tried to focus less on the goth with rain pattering on his form and more on the mighty cat now that it was back. They immediately trotted over to you, sitting by your feet and blinking away the rain. You smiled as they stared at your face, rubbing a hand over their moistened fur. They seemed no worse for wear after their little gliding trip, which was a good thing. Only problem was now that it was raining out, you were all on a quick path to wet clothes and the risk of colds. Mind you, it was still fairly comfortable temperature wise, you still didn’t want to take any chances.

Griffon reappeared as well, letting out a disgusted squawk as the rain began to soak him.

“Ahh fuck! This blows,” He hissed, gliding over and ducking under Shadow for cover. The cat grunted, forced to stand on all fours to accommodate him, “I hate the god damn rain...!”

You smiled, fully understanding why he as a bird wouldn’t like it. Getting wet was always rough on the feathers, it probably made it hard for him to fly. You looked down at him huddled under the cat, his feathers beaded with rain water. He shook himself out, splattering you with some of it and making you chuckle.  

V let out a low hum, running a hand through his hair. You blinked up at him, hating how much you enjoyed the sight of his black hair, dripping wet and half moved back and away from his pale face. Bad, you reminded yourself. You were being bad. You looked away, but not before you noticed water droplets dripping down his neck, over his tattoos. And not before Griffon noticed you noticing.

He let out another low chortle as V stood, the wry man rolling his shoulders and starting forward again. Griffon quickly flapped his wings, flying up so he could land on your shoulders as you rose to follow. His beak was at your ear the next instant, his voice in a low, amused hiss.

“Looks like somebody was already wet long before the rain started.” His tone had a sing-song edge, beak so close it brushed your ear.  

You immediately put a hand to your mouth to hide a squeak, a shocked expression on your face as you turned to look at the bird. You made a shushing motion, embarrassment and annoyance filling you as you gave him a glance promising violence. Griffon chortled again, both of you looking at V to see if he had noticed. Which, luckily, it appeared not to be the case. He was still strolling forward, eyes locked on what appeared to be a phone booth resting against a building’s wall. You tried not to focus on what Griffon said, glancing around at your surroundings. Back in the city again, only this appeared to be a courtyard of sorts. A few husks were here, which made you wince, and several abandoned cars and broken pavement.  

You quickly caught up to V, feeling pretty renewed now that the rain was washing over you. Though you felt bad Griffon and Shadow didn’t seem to enjoy it. As for you, you were sure the feeling of wet clothes would start to bother you once it reached your panties and the insides of your shoes. V seemed unaffected by it, but you could definitely tell he was winded now that you were in bright light. No more fights for the day, or at least you hoped. The sky was darkening a bit, so you were hoping once you called Nico you guys could find a place to bunker down and dry off.  

“Gonna call Nico?” You asked when V entered the phone booth, shaking out his hair a bit.

“Yes.” He replied, already dialing the number. You leaned against the phone booth, tilting your face toward the sky and closing your eyes as the rain pattered down on you. Hair already soaked, which was fine. Not exactly a shower, but you would take the feeling of sewers being washed away however you could. You ran your hands through your sopping locks, pushing them back a bit and letting out a light sigh. The day had gone by so fast, but the lovely morning of waking up curled with all your new companions felt so long ago. You doubted it could happen again if you found a place with more than one place to rest, and you half hoped you would only find one bed again. A stupid thought, an impulsive thought. You opened your eyes again, smiling wistfully as you internally scolded yourself.

You thought you felt someone staring at you, and confirmed it when you turned and caught V’s gaze moving away, body moving back to the phone as it dialed the mechanic. You blinked—had he been watching you?

He suddenly spoke, probably due to Nico picking up the phone.

“Hey, we can use a hand.” He said simply, tone low and smooth.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll head on over.” Nico sounded only slightly annoyed—you knew she was eager for the progress report on the daggers you had used. The annoyance held no weight.  

You slid down on one side of the phone booth to wait, closing your eyes and humming a quiet tune as the wait for Nico’s arrival would start. You half wondered what elaborate entrance she would make this time, but you knew your imagination was not that creative. Shadow decided to plop their mighty head on your lap, making you grunt softly, but happily as they too closed their eyes to get some rest. V slid down on the other side of the phone booth, setting his cane down on the pavement. You were disappointed—you couldn’t see his face this way. As for Griffon, he was the only one who seemed content enough with sitting in the dry phone booth, entering a bird position of rest as beads of water pattered from his puffed-out frame. He looked pretty grumpy, so you decided on leaving him alone.

The silence stretched peacefully for a few moments, broken only by the soft falling of rain. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t sure what.

Shockingly, it was V who broke the silence.

“Tell me, Y/N,” His voice was soft and smooth, head tilted back against the phone booth as rain continued to soak the both of you, “You asked me about my family...but what of yours? You mentioned to Griffon you didn’t remember them...did you grow up alone?”

You felt yourself hesitate, unable to figure out how to answer his question.

“Hmm...” You murmured lightly, clasping your hands in your lap, “It’s hard to say.” The answer to his question felt like a yes, but also a no. You grew up with parents, but you were still alone...trying to remember sent a pain through your skull, energy flaring and commanding that such actions were a firm no.

You pressed a hand to your temple, tone slightly strained as you replied, “I had parents growing up...but they weren’t kind ones. I think in a way I did grow up alone...but I don’t remember much of anything.” Not a lie, at least that’s what you told yourself. How could you be fully truthful if you didn’t remember the truth yourself?

V let out a small sound of understanding, turning his head to look at you. The sight of rain water glistening on his black lashes sent your heart into a frenzy.

“You seem to have a problem with memory,” He said, not in an accusing tone. More observant, curious, “Is there any reason for that?”

You hesitated again, unsure of how much to share.

“I...” You didn’t want to keep with the half truths. You didn’t like to lie. You squeezed your right wrist with your left hand, hard enough that your nails dug in.  

Pain is a reminder.

“The Deity I get my power from,” Your voice was low, eyes tired as you smiled wistfully and stared ahead, “He removed a lot of my memories...It was to help me cope with trauma. I still...feel them there, like residue traces. It's like a ghost of a memory remains...all the emotions and feelings that came with it but without substance. Cut in half.”

V paused again, causing worry to settle in your frame. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at his face.

When he spoke his tone was soft, filled with a deep curiosity, “Fascinating,” He murmured, sending a bit of relief pouring through you, “This Deity...you’ve actually spoken to it? How far back do you remember?”

You tapped your fingers on your arm, glancing down to see you were bleeding slightly from your own nails. You tilted your wrist down, holding it again as you thought over a good response.

“I have,” You replied, now deciding to peek over at him. He was becoming absolutely soaked, black hair clinging to his face and dripping water all over. His jade eyes met your, searching and filled with a deep fascination—the sight made your heart pound a little faster, words a little looser, “He shows himself to me on occasion, talks to me. As for my memories...it varies. If you’re wondering if I’m going to suddenly forget you guys the answer is no, it's just my past memories that are effected.” You would not let the Deity erase your memories of them, even if this place somehow managed to break you.

V nodded once, turning his gaze back and closing his eyes from the rain. You blinked—had you seen relief there in his expression before he turned away? Regardless, that half smile was on his lips now, softening his features. You had to let out a slow breath to steady yourself, pressing your hands to your cheeks and closing your eyes. You needed to get a grip, you needed to focus. You thought you heard Griffon let out another low chuckle, but you weren’t going to look at him to confirm it. He needed to behave himself too. As it was, Shadow was being a good cat, snoozing in your lap and ignoring the steady patter of rain on their fur. You appreciated their silent support.

After a few more seconds of waiting you hear a low rumble and the sound of tires. You blinked tiredly when V tapped the phone booth was his cane to alert everyone, rising to his feet with a low grunt. You scratched Shadow behind the ears once before stretching your legs and arms out, letting out a light groan of strain. God, you could use a nap, in an actual bed. Warm, fresh sheets and a cool fan blowing. You shook your head, looking up to see V holding a hand out to help you up. You took it, rising to your feet and giving his fingers a light squeeze. His support was always appreciated, always there to put a little more pep back in your step.

He smiled at you, releasing your hand just as Nico’s van came bursting through the ground.

Both you and V whipped around, taking several steps back as the mobile home shoot out, quickly leaning forward and slamming onto the pavement on all four wheels. You heard Griffon let out a startled squawk, looking at the new hole in the ground and at the now present van. You had to agree with him—you didn’t know how the fuck Nico pulled this shit off, or why, but it was definitely impressive. You just worried one of these days that she was gonna hurt herself by doing it. Or hit you or the others with the van without trying to.

You exchanged an exasperated glance with V, who merely gave a light shrug and started toward the van. As he did so, Nico opened the driver’s side window, half sticking her head out to look at you and the poet.

“Hurry it up!” She yelled in her southern drawl, looking pretty frazzled, “I’ve gotta go stop by dipshit next! He’s all out of arms again!”  

V let out a low hum, stepping into the van when the mechanic threw a towel at his face. He caught it with a grunt, giving her  a raised brow as she crossed her arms.

“No dripping on my floor!” She growled, pointing a finger at him, “Now make it fast.”

“Certainly.” V still sounded amused, all things considered. He towel dried his hair lightly as he walked to the back of the van to use the statue. You opted on staying outside, leaning against the van and giving Nico a friendly smile and wave. You definitely didn’t want to risk getting water on anything.  

Nico approached you eagerly, poking her head out of the van to address you.

“How were those daggers?” She asked without pleasantries. Which you expected.

You pulled one out, giving it a light twirl as you hummed, “Very interesting. They provide an effect that does blue fire damage to demons. If I stab them enough, they explode.”

Nico looked downright delighted, nodding eagerly and smirking with the pride of a true artist.

“Hell yeah!” She exclaimed, giving you a pat on the back, “Keep that shit up—I'm cookin’ up somethin’ real excitin’ from that fancy crystal you gave me.”

You nodded once, the action sending water droplets flying off your hair. It seemed to occur to Nico that you were still standing out in the rain, looking pretty drenched at a little tired. Her excited expression slipped to one that was more concerned, her gaze shifting between you and V as he did his thing back at the statue.  

“You doin’ alright?” She asked you, placing a single hand on your soaked head, “You’re fuckin’ drenched. Hate to say it, but you look like shit.”

You let out a light laugh at that, “You’re right and you should say it. We’re probably gonna find somewhere to sleep for the night soon.”

She still looked worried, “Is there anythin’ ya need? Wait—hold that thought.” She turned back into her van, rummaging through some drawers and the like beyond your view. You let out a light breath, patiently waiting for her return and for V to be done. The rain was beginning to soak through your clothes, a previous speculation confirmed when you shifted in discomfort. Wet clothes were not fun, nor welcome. Once you got the energy back you could dry yourself, but waiting in this personal hell until them was not very encouraging. And stripping down to let stuff dry definitely wasn’t an option.

Nico returned a moment later with what appeared to be a grocery bag filled with items you couldn’t see. She sat down on the steps of her mobile home, handing it to you as you sat down as well. Unlike with V, she said nothing about you dripping on her van.

“Consider that a girlie care package,” She said in a low voice, cupping a hand near her mouth so only you could hear, “Got some stuff in there for ya—I know how shit goes.”

You blinked, holding the bag in the van so it didn’t get wet. You were pretty sure you saw a towel in the bag, some bandages, a few little toiletry things like tampons and the like. You blinked—there were a pair of clean panties in there too. Nico definitely thought ahead. You looked up at her with a grateful expression, met with a smug one of her own.

“I always keep shit in the van,” She replied, leaning back on her arms and tilting her gaze to meet yours, “Never know when I or someone else might need it. You sure you and the goth don’t wanna just rest in the van tonight? I’ve got spare clothes.”

You smiled ruefully, looking in the distance where a bundle of Qliphoth roots were resting.

“We have to destroy those first,” You replied, “And you have to go help Nero.”

Nico scoffed, “I’ll swing by and pick his dumb ass up and come back. How about you and mister poet meet us the second street over on the train tracks in like an hour?”

You paused. To be truthful, that sounded more appealing than resting in someone’s abandoned home. The mobile home would be cramped, so you hoped V and the others would be okay with it too. Regardless, you nodded, offering the mechanic a tired smile and wringing out your hair a bit.

“That would be lovely,” You replied, which made her smile in relief, “We’ll destroy the roots and wait for you there.”

Nico gave a light nodded, patting you on the back before hopping to her feet. Just as she did, V came walking back to the side door, handing Nico back the towel before he stepped back into the rain again. You made quick work of summoning the bag back from before and depositing the new contents inside before you followed after him. The door slid shut behind you as you stood, absorbing the bag back and turning to face the now-wet poet again.  

Nico called out the window at you, “Remember to meet me in an hour!” Before closing it again and pressing on the gas. Her van was skidding off into the distance within moments, leaving you and your group alone once more. You let out a light sound of amusement, meeting V’s usual bemused gaze before turning in the direction of the roots.

“We’re meeting Nico later?” V questioned as you started forward with him, giving his cane a light twirl before tapping it on the ground.

“Mhm,” You nodded lightly, clasping your hands behind your back as Griffon landed on your shoulders, “I hope you don’t mind, I agreed to us staying with her and Nero tonight.”

He let out a low hum, tilting his gaze forward as he replied, “No objections from me.”

You smiled in relief, looking away from him and quickening your step. The faster you destroyed the Qliphoth roots, the faster you and the poet could get some well needed rest. Though as you walked, you realized that shit would never come easy, not by a long shot.

Your foresight began to flare as you neared an archway, hissing voices heard nearby. Your heart began to pound at the prospect of another god damn battle, also mingled with annoyance. You were tired of fighting for the day, that was definitely sure. Regardless, V pressed himself against a nearby wall to hide, pulling you to the side and pressing his cane over your chest to hold you back. Joke was on him; you definitely had no intentions of getting caught.

You caught sight of whatever the fuck the thing was before ducking into cover, and it was pretty ugly. It looked like a three-part woman attached to a gross, deformed giant chicken. With writhing mandibles and claws coming from its body, saliva dripping from its maw. Yikes. In front of it stood what looked to be a powerful demon on horseback, wielding what looked to be a lightning sword atop an equally-fancy looking horse. Oh no. Oh, that looked bad. You didn’t like the sight of this one bit, foresight flaring in an alarming way as V listened on to what they were saying.

“Malphas....of course, more trouble,” Griffon growled at your feet, sticking his dumb beak out to glare at the two creatures. He peered at the horseback guy with beady eyes, continuing much too loudly for your tastes, “Not sure about that one, though. Never seen him before, not in the Underworld any—”

You quickly grabbed him before V could, holding your hand around his beak and cradling him against you almost like an angry cat. V put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, eyeing the bird then you before turning to look back at the obvious threats. You had no idea who Malphas was, but she was a scary looking enemy and you already decided you didn’t like her. Hell, you didn’t like this whole situation. So much for your group killing a simple bundle of roots and moving on. You had to admit, you excepted things to go wrong some way or another. Only this time it was cutting into your much needed rest and relaxation. You were wet, grumpy, and certainly in no mood to fight a glorified naked bird.

Regardless, Malphas was talking.

She was rasping at the rider in a strange, warbled tone of voice, black eyes staring him down with firm intensity.  

“Search for the devil sword Sparda," She growled, body glowing with demonic energy, "You know where it is...He told me to leave it be, but I'm afraid it still concerns me."

The devil sword Sparda? You had no idea what the hell that was, but the term made V squeezed his cane tightly so hard his knuckles turned white, eyes alight with interest. It sent your heart pounding again, realizing that this may actually be a fight V didn’t want to walk away from. Griffon let out a muffled, quiet squawk at the name of the sword as well, eyes wide as they looked over to the poet watching this scene unfold. Even Griffon seemed concerned, so you had to wonder just what the fuck it all meant.

“As long as there is a blood descendant of Sparda...I cannot take any chances.” Maplphas continued, drawing your attention again. Who was Sparda? And who was the descendant? Your confusion only grew.  

“Do you understand?!” The woman’s screeching voice made you jump a bit, leaning back against the wall, “Find it, and destroy it! Only then will his reign be truly realized...!” You assumed “He” was Urizen, which was pretty much the only thing that made any sense to you.

The rider never replied to the deranged demon, silence following her words. You watched as she walked forward through a purple, swirling portal, disappearing out of view in a flash. One threat gone, but the rider still remained. And much to your absolute displeasure, V stepped out from his hiding spot. You released Griffon, instantly stepping up beside him to make sure he didn't do something absolutely stupid. You realized right away that the driven, focused look was back in his eyes, like he didn’t seem to realize you were there for a moment. You, Griffon, and Shadow took up places  beside him, your foresight signaling you that danger was going to happen if you proceeded, but there was no stopping that.

V tapped his cane on the ground with a heavy, metalic sound. It made the rider turn, a low growl coming from its throat as it readied its weapon with a burst of purple, crackling energy. The horse under it reared with a loud whiny, eyes glowing a firey blue as the creatures now faced you. Bad, this felt bad. You had no idea how to handle this.  

“I see. I know what you are.” V’s voice was a low, sultry tone. His expression was alight with anticipation, staring the creature down and griping the top of his cane.

He lifted the silver rod and tapped the handle onto the palm of his hand, tilting his head to the side as he murmured a sultry, threatening tone.

“Don’t worry...I’ll be gentle."

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193/chapters/43032029

Tagged: @just-call-me-no-name @silentwhispofhope @nightshadow4713 @slightlylunatic @efiicitia

[infinitalia]

An Echo Of Eternity

Chapter Two | The Wrong World

Summary: After his brother’s death, Alfred is prepared to do anything to see him again- including defying his beliefs and hacking into a computer simulated world for the dead. His search leads him to his classmate Arthur, who has come here for unknown reasons and seems almost at home in this artificial afterlife. Reluctantly, Arthur agrees to help Alfred and try to work together. USUK.

Warnings/info: Black Mirror: San Junipero AU (you don’t need to have seen it), major character death, mental health issues.

(Previous chapter preview can be found on my blog under #an echo of eternity.)

Light vibrations and a faint hum drill softly through his dreams, snapping him awake far less gently than they should. He groans and rolls over under his covers, before panic sets in and he stomach does a somersault. Where is it? Is this its first round?

'Shit,' Arthur mutters ignoring the wave of dizziness from a head rush as he sits up and begins ruffling through the sheets, trying to find his phone. The damn alarm is only on vibrate- his idea, but certainly not by choice- which means he sleeps through it far more than he was planning to when he came up with the stupid plan. He has even taken to holding his phone at night, so it would buzz right up against his skin in the morning, but somehow the damn thing always manages to end up on the floor or at the bottom of his bed. Or even under the pillow that one time. He grits his teeth as his fingers brush against the phone, and he is mortified to find that this is in fact its third round.

God fucking dammit-

A few feet away, a handle bends downwards and the door creaks open quietly. Arthur squints into the dim and glares when he spots Peter's face through the crack.

Why didn't you wake me? he signs angrily.

Peter sticks his tongue out, smirking. 'I'm doing it now,' he whispers.

Arthur shakes his head with a derisive snort, making a big show of pretending to zip his lips. His brother rolls his eyes and disappears from the gap, and Arthur can faintly hear him skipping off down the hallway.

He can barely remember being as hyperactive in the morning as Peter is- after all, failing the alarm clock, he always has his little brother to rely on to wake him up.

He just wishes Peter would be quieter.

He only has about ten minutes to get ready before he and Peter must leave, and he spends at least half that time ensuring that he did successfully hide the PATCO equipment last night once he had finished using it. The likelihood of anyone, even Peter, going through his bedroom is slim- God, he really could keep absolutely anything in here and probably get away with it- but he has to make certain. His paranoia may not be as great as it was when he first started visiting San Junipero, but he is still keenly aware of the risks.

And the stakes are certainly higher now, he remembers with another groan. Fuck. Fuck it all.

He could have just said no. He liked Matthew, certainly, but… he really could have said no. Taken a step back, not have gotten involved. Hell, hadn't he almost managed to walk away? At least until Alfred Williams-Jones had gone and started crying. Then he'd essentially been doomed. God. He curses again. What the hell has he gotten himself into?

Arthur barely has enough time to wash his face, pull on a jumper, a pair of jeans and a jacket and then snatch some money off his desk before he is ushering Peter out of the house. Once on the path, his brother mockingly unzips his lips and smirks at Arthur.

'I win,' he says.

'The hell you do,' Arthur retorts. 'You spoke.'

'So did you. I heard you swearing afterwards. And before. That's twice, so I win.'

Damn this kid's hearing. Arthur sighs and digs into his pocket for some spare change. If Peter is the quieter of the two in the morning, he gets extra money for the corner store where they collect their breakfast. Arthur isn't a huge fan of wasting his savings every day, but the alternative is getting up even earlier to make breakfast for the two of them. Not to mention the fact that that the toaster is broken beyond repair and the milk is almost always out of date.

'Maybe Dad should play as well,' Peter muses, grinning as he snatches the money out of Arthur's hand. 'He makes way more noise than us. We'd be rich.'

Arthur offers a weak smile and doesn't reply. He's certain Peter knows why they have to be silent in the morning, but as long as he keeps presenting it as a game for his little brother, Peter will probably continue treating it as such.

'Don't get sweets,' Arthur tells him as they're embraced by a warm gush of air from opening the shop door.

'My money, my pick,' Peter says cheekily. He races off down the snacks aisle and leaves Arthur standing in the doorway. The elder brother heads over to the cold drinks, knowing full well that he won't have enough energy to make it through the morning, let alone the whole day. He's noticed with his Variant Chip that it really can take a toll on the user. Arthur is no stranger to migraines, thankfully, so the resulting minor headaches he has been experiencing aren't too hard to deal with. Still, it would be nice if he could get his hands on that anaesthetic cream they give to the elderly when they visit San Junipero…

His thoughts are interrupted by his phone buzzing once again, this time from a text. He pulls it out and stares at the message on the screen in confusion for a few moments.

You sure? I can pick you and Pete up from school if you like.

Oh, shit. That's right. Arthur must have sent a text last night, once he'd gotten back from San Junipero and before he passed out. Reaching into the refrigerated shelf for an energy drink with one hand absentmindedly, Arthur thinks through his response carefully before beginning to type.

We'll walk.

The air outside feels more freezing than it did when they first left the house, although Arthur doesn't find that surprising in the slightest. The corner shop always has the heating on this time of year, while his home… generally isn't much better than the outside temperature. Peter moans about the chill the second they step back out again, tugging at the ends of his scarf fiercely until Arthur tells him he'll only strangle himself doing that.

'It's too cold,' Peter complains, shaking his arms about in an effort to warm them. Arthur scoffs lightly. His brother is too much of a summer child- in every sense of the term, he adds privately, smiling. Peter is very much like how Arthur once was, back in Brighton during those long summers, with days that couldn't even be deterred by the usual dreary clouds. But Peter was four when they moved to London, and eight when they came to the US. He would have been too young to remember the days on the beach if they'd even still been going down to it regularly after he was born.

Nevertheless, Peter's absolutely rubbish with the cold. At the first sign of winter, he immediately dons coats, scarfs and gloves at every opportunity. Admittedly, Arthur does feel quite cold with only his jacket to keep him warm, but he isn't about to let anyone know that.

Arthur takes a deep breath. He won't mention giving up the offer of a lift, either. Peter will just be fed up, and this day is certainly going to be stressful enough already.

He doesn't need to look into the future to know that.

The first few periods go by in relative smoothness, by Monday morning standards. His poetry module almost proves to be an issue when he suddenly remembers about ten minutes into it that he completely forgot to read the set texts for this week, but is relieved when the teacher is too distracted with the kids who failed last week's assignment to bother to check. His phone doesn't go off once, which isn't exactly a big shocker. He doesn't have anyone he actually keeps in regular contact with, other than the contacts he keeps out of necessity. While he knows his classmates might find it sad that he has no friends to text, Arthur quite enjoys it. Dealing with most texts is quite the hassle in his experience, and he often finds he doesn't have the energy to deal with them. Not to mention, he can do without the social life. Everything's just a little too chaotic already without one of those.

It isn't until lunchtime that something out of the ordinary occurs. Arthur is adding food to his tray, ready to pretend to take it outside to eat (when in actuality he has the perfect little corner in the library attic where he can go mostly undetected- and he has gotten very good at quickly barrelling food into his bag and hiding himself if anyone does come his way) when he spots what is probably the second to last person he wants to see. Maybe third if he's being generous. He isn't.

Alfred Williams-Jones is headed straight in his direction with his own empty tray, an entirely nonchalant look on his face. He's on his own, so there's at least one small blessing, but Arthur can easily make out his friends sitting at their usual table, and any one of them could turn and wonder exactly what the hell Alfred is doing.

'Hey, Arthur,' Alfred says, smiling. He begins piling some ham sandwiches onto his tray.

'What?' Arthur says bluntly, deciding there's no point bothering with pleasantries. An uneasy tingling is spreading over his skin, and he grits his teeth in frustration, hoping it doesn't show. Judging by just how careless Alfred was in San Junipero itself, God only knows how he's going to behave in a crowded school cafeteria.

Alfred looks exasperated, although he's still smiling. He's a complete fool, Arthur decides.

'Once again, nice to see you too,' he says, and Arthur's mind immediately flashes to the night before, where those stupid, friendly words were all this numbskull could come up with.

All of this is stupid in itself, but Arthur is more than simply miffed by that. After everything he'd told his classmate last night, he had hoped at least something, maybe even his parting words (which should be the freshest thing in this guy's memory, he thinks angrily) would have sunken in.

'What part of never come to me did you not understand?' he says very lowly, under his breath.

Alfred blinks. 'What? But I- I thought you meant like… in the other place.'

'I said everywhere,' Arthur hisses, letting his eyes dart about. No one is looking at them from what he can see, but he has his back to the main bulk of the cafeteria and he's almost afraid to look.

Alfred is frowning now. 'What's the big deal? It's just school.'

Arthur takes a deep breath, and tries to ignore the churning feeling inside him. 'We don't talk normally.'

'What, and you think people will notice? No one's gonna care, Arthur.'

He's probably right, but Arthur is far from the type to take any chances. 'Call me paranoid all you like,' he hisses. 'If you want to risk getting caught, that's fine. I was under the impression you had quite a lot to lose. But hey, what do I know?'

Alfred glares at him. 'Okay, okay, fine. Jeez. Just wanted to thank you again is all. And ask when we're doing it next-'

Arthur angrily shoves a juice box onto his tray and stomps off towards the doors, praying Alfred won't follow him. All he asked- all he fucking asked- was that Alfred listened to him, and respected his conditions. Deep down, he knows he's getting far too worked up about this, but this is far from what he had in mind. All he wants is peace and quiet, and above all, safety. And Alfred could ruin all three.

His heart is pounding just a little too fast for his liking, and Arthur knows the next place he should go is the sick bay. It's not as if they'll be out of his prescription, seeing as he has only ever gone for it twice before- and on both occasions, purely to prove to them that there was even an issue. The rest of the time, he just breaks into his emergency batch of diazepam at the bottom of his pencil case. Students aren't allowed to carry any kind of drugs around school with them, medical or otherwise. Then again, students aren't supposed to sneak food into the library at lunchtimes or sneak off school grounds during gym lessons either. And students most certainly aren't supposed to be hacking into San Junipero in their spare time, but hey? No one is.

He's halfway up the steps to the staff only back entrance to the library, under the cover of the trees between the building and the playing field, when he hears someone else's footsteps ascending too.

Truthfully, it is somewhat of a relief that it is just Alfred. He'd hate for his secret lunch spot to be ruined by a teacher catching him in the act.

'Where are you even going?' Alfred asks, and even from ten or so feet away Arthur can see the skeptical raise of his classmate's eyebrow.

'Why are you still following me?' Arthur demands.

'Come on, we've got total privacy out here. Can we talk now?'

Arthur sighs. It's not as if he can go in the damn attic now anyway. If Alfred finds out that the maintenance staff leave the door open from when they start before school to around six in the evening, he'll probably come barging in whenever he likes.

Arthur instead takes a seat on the steps, and Alfred rushes up quickly to sit beside him, looking far too enthusiastic for Arthur's liking. Alfred's always got that look about him- like an overactive puppy on steroids, wanting in on everyone's business. He'd be friends with the whole damn school if he could.

Precisely why, after two weeks of that absolutely pointless mentoring when Arthur first started, he avoided Alfred and those like him like the plague.

'I take it that's a yes?' Alfred says, grinning.

'Just get on with it,' Arthur snaps. 'What do you want to talk about?'

'Wanna discuss that weird ass rule of yours, for a start. What if I need to talk, like ASAP? No offence, Arthur, but waiting for you to come find me would be like waiting for the next Game of Thrones book.'

'A Song of Ice and Fire,' Arthur says automatically, although he doesn't deny Alfred's point. It is kind of a fair assessment.

'Whatever. My point is, as you're so big on pointing it out, I'm super new to this. What if there are things I need to ask, before I go there next time? I don't have your number or anything.'

And you're not getting it, Arthur thinks moodily, but even he is too civil to actually say it. 'Well, you want to learn what not to do? Don't even think about texting about this sort of thing. If the police get wind of anything, they'll search your phone records. Just pretend it's all about drugs or something. You wouldn't just haphazardly text your dealer-'

'Loads of people do. Although, we could just get those cheap flip phones, like in the movies.' Alfred seems far too amused at the thought. 'Oh wow. I think I'd actually prefer it if people thought I was buying weed or something. My parents would probably take that better than the truth.'

Arthur has nothing to say to that. His face is heating up a little, although certainly not from embarrassment. Shame would be a better assessment. Not for the first time, he seriously reconsiders his own nature. Seriously thinks about what that councillor back home in his last school told him, about taming his hostility, his coldness towards his peers, his aggression. About it all being a problem. About it being wrong.

But it isn't wrong for him. It shouldn't have to be.

So he shuts his mouth and doesn't say anything. Better to remain silent than to be as spiteful as ever. If he could be nice last night, right in the middle of panicking greatly at having been caught in the Ghost Town, he can at least act like an actual human being while Alfred talks about his family.

The guilt lets him know he still can.

'They were at this dinner party last night. A friend from church had a get together or something,' Alfred explains. 'They go to 'em quite a lot, actually. My dad's big on being part of stuff. Community spirit and all that. Man, Mattie and I used to hate going. We'd sit at the table with all the grownups and eat with them and everything, and it sorta felt like we were all grown up too. But man were those things boring. Anyway. That's where they were last night. I stopped having to go with them like two years ago. I figured it was as good a night as any to… you know. Try you-know-where out for the first time.'

Arthur shifts restlessly. 'Fair enough. I wouldn't recommend Sunday nights though. I'm really starting to realise this myself. Nights with school the next day are a bad idea.'

'My head felt all weird this morning,' Alfred admits, touching one of his temples lightly. 'It ached a bit. Is it meant to do that?'

'Probably. I get migraines, and the Chip doesn't help. We don't exactly have the anaesthetic salve they give the old people. Even PATCO doesn't bother with that.'

Too comfy, his brain reminds him. Too familiar. Cut it out now.

'Anyway,' he says briskly, almost wincing at how obnoxious he makes the mood change sound. 'I'm sure I can handle a task a little quicker than George R R Martin, at the very least. We have lunch to eat. In our respective spots.'

'No one's gonna notice I'm gone, Arthur,' Alfred says, and he really is starting to sound annoyed now. Arthur feels strangely proud that not once, but twice has he managed to shatter Alfred's perpetual cheerful attitude. Far more ashamed about it, certainly- the guy just lost his brother, you insensitive fuck- but a little bit of pride remains.

Arthur has the ability to piss off even the most optimistic of individuals. It's like a superpower. A shit one, but it has its uses. It protects him, and that alone should be enough.

'I don't always sit with them now, anyway,' Alfred says. 'Sometimes they say stuff, and I know they're tryna be nice, but they do it all wrong. Whatever. They probably think I'm just in the bathroom crying or some shit. That's what people do.'

In crappy Hollywood high school rom coms, maybe. Arthur has had plenty of breakdowns in this shit hole of a school and not a single one has he risked having in the very public, constantly occupied bathrooms.

'I like to be alone,' he says. That's why anywhere here but the library attic will never be any good. Why his food remains untouched, just waiting on his lap. Alfred shouldn't be here. No one should be, not even him.

'Yeah. Ain't that the truth,' Alfred says, his voice peculiarly cold. He grabs his food and gets to his feet. 'I'll leave you to it then. And just wait, I guess. No problem.'

Arthur himself is feeling a little cold now. 'Right,' he says, because what the hell else is there he can say that won't just fuck up his thought pattern or this conversation anymore?

Alfred starts heading down the steps, then hesitates after a couple of seconds. 'I don't know why you're like this, you know. Can you at least cut me some slack on that front? I have no idea what I'm actually doing wrong, apart from literally being here.'

Well, there you go. There's your answer, right there. It's not exactly hiding. God, if only his head could shut the fuck up.

'I just want to be alone,' he says, practicing I'm sorry in his head. It doesn't sound right. For all his manners around adults and whatnot, it just wouldn't sound natural. And it might help mend bridges that should be left as rubble.

'Yeah. I got that,' Alfred says, and then he is gone.

Arthur waits a little while, staring at nothing in particular while ice begins to settle at the bottom of his empty stomach, before he's certain the coast is clear. He gathers up his things and pelts into the library like it's some stupid game of hide and seek- just like at the beach, before being a certified grade A arsehole was his chosen path and he didn't need to hide in all the other ways he does now. The dunes were always the best places to pick, and the massive boulders with their narrow tunnels and caves between them and their little rock pools far below. He could have hidden there forever when he was very little. It was the safest place in the world. No adult, no near adult, could ever have fit through those gaps.

But another child could.

The rest can be found on AO3 and FanFiction on my account (Rezeren).

[taki-flower]

Robbed [1/1]

ao3     fanfiction

Yusuke blearily opened his eyes, letting out a low hiss as his body voiced its complaint at the small movement. Where was he? Yusuke tried to move his head to look around, but the pain was simply too great. Damn fishing net.

A shadow fell upon him and Yusuke tilted his head towards that direction, trying to see who it was. The shadow bent down and brushed a hand across his forehead. It was oddly gentle. "Sleep," the voice commanded softly. Yusuke wanted to tell the bastard to mind his own business, he'll sleep if he wanted to, thank you very much, but the stranger repeated the motion a few more times, and Yusuke found himself lulled to sleep.

The next time Yusuke awoke, he was in a different place. It was a plain gray room and expanded to around twenty meters in all dimension. This time, Yusuke's body felt much stronger and moving about no longer created pain. There was a strange, clawing feeling in the back of his throat though. Yusuke looked around and panic seized him when he realized there was no water in the vicinity. His eyes darted frantically again, desperately hoping he had just somehow missed his much need necessity, but the room was bare and a quick glance around the room was all that was needed to take in everything within it. How long have he gone without water? Yusuke thought with dread. His eyes fell onto his lower body, specifically his ocean green tail. His hand shook as it reached out to touch the scaly surface. It was frighteningly dry.

"The fuck," Yusuke murmured, his voice shaking slightly as he glanced down at his hand. Was he going to die like this? Was this what happened to all his fellow missing mermaids and mermen friends? Being tortured to death as their much needed moisture leave their body? What for? He refused to go down like this.

Yusuke summoned as much energy as he could, forcing what remained of his body moisture to leave through his pores. Droplets of water swirled in the air as his raven, mid-back length hair whipped about. They remained suspended for a moment, before Yusuke let out a burst of power, driving the water outward away from him. Water pelleted continuously against the gray walls, at first seeming to have no effect, until sections of the walls slowly began to erode and give way to what appeared to be endless of droplets of water, whose power seemed to be building higher and higher without any limitation.

Then, abruptly, they stopped and Yusuke fell against the cold floor, panting. He didn't have enough energy left. The water, which was now all around the room, slowly began to recede back to Yusuke. Yusuke shuddered weakly as sea water entered back into his cells, taking great comfort in the only familiar thing he had with him. He laid there silently for a moment, until his eyes eventually drifted closed again, and darkness enveloped him.

The walls were fixed by the time Yusuke awoke. Or maybe he was just in another room. Yusuke didn't know. He didn't know how long he slept for, nor did he know how much time had passed since he was captured. Just what do they want with him? Other than the human he had seen the first day, he had met no one else. Humans could be watching and studying him all this time, and Yusuke wouldn't know.

His scales were falling off, his prized tail. To mermaids and mermen, their tail was everything. To lose their tail would mean losing their identity, since it was their tail that gave them the ability to survive in the water. Without their tail, they would just be another human, although that was just the best case scenario. Mermaids or mermen who lose their tails are few and far in between, but it does happen and in those cases, deaths are extremely high. This was because their body couldn't adjust to the change, from being able to live in the water to now possible to drown, from needing sea water to now needing fresh water. The difference between them are extreme, and to the extent that only those who deliberately set out to lose their tail would survive.

Yusuke picked up a fallen scale and rubbed it between his fingers. He longed to feel the power of the sea within it again, but it was not possible when it had detached from him. What will he do when all his scales have fallen off? Will he turn into sea foam, or was his captor cruel enough to make him live a life without his tail? He could feel the brush of the human's hand against his forehead again, like gentle waves brushing past his skin, and thought, no, he wasn't cruel.

The next few days pass by like a blur. Yusuke's body began changing as his scales continued to fall, putting Yusuke under excruciating pain. If he was made of clay, then it felt like someone was destroying his original form and molding him into something completely different. Everything felt raw. His throat, his face, his arms, his skin, his... Yusuke couldn't stop the single tear that fell from his eye as the last of his tail's scale fell off, the tear solidifying against the floor.

xxx

He had legs, was the second thing Yusuke noticed when he awoke. The first was that he was alive. Yusuke took a moment to examine his legs, as he had never seen human legs up close besides that one incident when he helped this drowning kid. So intent in his study, Yusuke didn't notice someone entering the room until he stood directly in front of him.

"It seems like you are awake," the man said, his voice low and sure. Yusuke looked up, his eyes brushing past silver, lower-back length hair and connecting with stunning, golden eyes. The man before him was captivating.

Yusuke snapped out of his strange mood long enough to make a comment. "No shit, asshole," Yusuke growled, pleased that he sounded menacing despite knowing he no longer had access to his power.

Something flashed in those golden eyes, but they were suppressed before Yusuke could make out anything of it. "You're not pleased with your situation, I take it?"

Yusuke thought back to his lost tail and clenched his teeth. "What do you think?"

The man's eyes wandered down Yusuke's tense form and answered, "No, not pleased at all." When Yusuke made no move to reply, two fingers reached out and grasped his chin.

Yusuke tried to jerk away from him. "Don't touch me!" he shouted, but to no avail. He was too greatly weaken.

Pale fingers forced Yusuke to look into the golden irises. "Tell me," the man said. "Do you recognize me?"

Yusuke's eyes trailed searchingly about the human's face, probing his own mind for any recognition. An abstract image came into his mind, but it was too vague for him to certify that it was the same person before him. Yusuke's gaze returned back to the human's, holding it. "No, I don't recognize you."

The man's hand dropped bonelessly to his side. "I see," he said monotonously, his jaws clenching ever slightly. Without another word, he turned around and left. It would be three days later until Yusuke saw him again.

During this time, Yusuke was well taken care of, despite not being allowed to leave the room. Everything was provided for him and anything he wanted, he got without a question. None of the servants that catered to him would speak with him, but Yusuke soon got used to that. During this period, he also remembered.

"Shuichi, right?" Yusuke said, glancing back at the human standing by the door.

"It's Kurama now," Shuichi corrected as he crossed the distance between them. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Yusuke answered, turning his body to face Kurama instead of the window. Despite the fact that his hostility had dwindled to mild now that he knew the human was Shuichi, the young boy that he had saved years ago and an old friend, he couldn't resist a jab at Kurama, who hadn't explained a single thing, as he leaned back against the cool window. "Could have been better."

Kurama didn't even flinch at the accusation in Yusuke's voice, which challenged Kurama to explain himself. "That's good to know. I heard you have been asking to go outside." The cold tone of Kurama's would have made other people immediately deny the statement or at least flusteredly try to explain themselves. Yusuke did neither. The heir of Raizen to the underwater kingdom couldn't be so easily pressured, after all. At least the previous heir, Yusuke thought somewhat bitterly, wiggling his legs, which he still hadn't quite gotten used to.

Yusuke frowned at the ghost of a smile that touch Kurama's lips. Not funny. "Yeah, I'm tired of being stuck in this room. You turned me into human, you take responsibility."

Now Kurama's lips really quirked up. "Take responsibility?" Kurama asked as he leaned forward, getting a little too close for comfort. Yusuke scowled at him and squared his shoulder. "Yeah." The two stared down at each other for a moment, until amusement was dancing visibly in Kurama's eyes. He darted in and brought a corner of his lips to Yusuke's, pulling back before Yusuke could react, the smile still on his face. "Let's go then, shall we?" He extended a hand out to Yusuke.

Yusuke took it with a bemused frown, and allowed Kurama to pull him up. The sheets previously pooled around his waist fell as he stood, his new feet planted solidly on the ground. It felt strange. Despite having gotten these feet for over three days now, Yusuke still hadn't stood until now, almost afraid to test these extra limbs of his. It was final now. He really lost his tail. But gain a friend, a part of his mind added, causing Yusuke to look at Kurama, who was... staring at him.

"What?" Yusuke asked bluntly, drawing Kurama's attention to him. Kurama's hand felt warm in his own.

"Have you stood before today?" Kurama inquired in a tone Yusuke couldn't really name.

Yusuke glanced down at his own feet curiously, wondering what was wrong. "No, I didn't feel like it until today." His eyes sought Kurama's, but his friend didn't seem to notice. "Any wrong?"

"Nothing. Just that I've forgotten mermen don't wear any apparels." Kurama indicated to what he was wearing when Yusuke gave him a confused look.

"Oh," Yusuke replied plainly, not understanding what's the deal. He never wore anything when he was living in the sea, so why should he bother when he became a human? Kurama was shaking his head when Yusuke explained his logic to him, however.

"As much as I would like to let you do as you wish, I'm afraid there are customs of humans that you have to abide." Kurama picked up the fallen sheet and tied it securely around Yusuke waist, the sheet draping down to his ankle. "Stay here," Kurama muttered as he touched his lips to Yusuke's collarbone, letting it linger for a long moment. "I'll get you some clothes," he said as he stepped back and exited the room. Yusuke curiously touched the place where Kurama's lips met his skin, and wondered if it was another strange human custom.

He sat back on the bed with a shrug. At least the humans have beds, just like the merfolks. Yusuke didn't think he can stand sleeping on the floor if they didn't have beds. On the ocean floor, there were at least waves that can lull him to sleep whenever he didn't have the comfort of his bed. Here, there was only air. Yusuke rolled lazily around the bed for a bit, until he eventually got bored. On his feet again, Yusuke decided to explore the room, as well as practice walking. When he was done with that and Kurama still didn't return, Yusuke finally chose to leave the room. It's not like Kurama can't find him if he stay in the vicinity, right?

This place was a lot bigger than he thought, was the first thing that crossed his mind as he glanced down the huge corridor on either side of him. Which way should he go? Yusuke wondered, the thought of simply retreating back into his room never even crossing his mind. He eventually settled with going left, and hadn't come across anyone until a door in the wall suddenly opened and nearly slammed into him. Only his reflex as a warrior when he was a mermen saved him from a painful bruise.

"We'll be back, Youko," the man shouted back into the room, not even noticing he almost injured someone. His pompadour bobbed as he continued to speak. "Don't think you'll be so lucky next time."

A dark laugh drifted out of the room. "That's what you said last time, Officer Kuwabara."

Kuwabara's hand tighten around the doorknob, but made no move to deny. "Justice will prevail, Youko," he said at last. "You'll see."

"We'll see about that, Officer Kuwabara. Until then."

Kuwabara turned around and took two steps before bumping into Yusuke, who was busy trying to figure out why that voice sounded so familiar.

"The fuck!" Yusuke exclaimed after regaining his balance. "First you almost slam that door into me and now you nearly knock me over! What did I do to you, man?"

"Whoah," Kuwabara said, holding his hand out placatingly in front of him. "Please. I didn't mean to bump into you. I'm sorry."

Yusuke narrowed his eyes at him, but seeing that Kuwabara appeared to be sincere, he let it go. "Whatever," he muttered.

"Sir, Youko Kurama is approaching us," a man wearing a uniform similar to Kuwabara's said. The other three men Kuwabara had with him tensed up, and Kuwabara glanced back into the room.

"Youko-" he began, but the man brushed past him. His eyes immediately landed on Yusuke's half-naked form among the uniformed men, and quickly tugged him to his side. "I thought I told you to wait in the room," Youko said, his voice filled with anger. Kuwabara glanced at the two in shock. In all the years of trying to capture Youko, he had never heard the man sound truly angry, even when Kuwabara spoilt yet another deal or managed to confiscate a shipment of his. He always appeared cool and emotionless no matter what, yet this man so easily drew emotion from the don. Just who was he? Kuwabara scanned down the teen's half-naked form. A male lover?

Kuwabara looked up at the feel of a stare and locked gaze with Youko's dark, possessive eyes. He's mine, they screamed. "I believe you have business to attend to," Youko said, his tone sending out a low, dangerous warning.

Kuwabara clenched his teeth together, unwillingly to bend to the don's unspoken threat. How can he be a policeman if he fear the very thing he was supposed to fight against? Yet he knew how dangerous Youko could be. There were many officers who 'disappeared' while investigating into Youko's business. Kuwabara was just lucky he hadn't crossed any of Youko's line. Yet.

A growl came out of nowhere at that moment, dispelling the heavy atmosphere. "Crap. Kurama," Kuwabara goggled at this, barely believing that someone dared called Youko by his first name, "I'm hungry. You got any fish?"

Youko's gaze stayed on Kuwabara for a moment longer before refocusing on the raven-haired man, causing Kuwabara to let out a low sigh of relief. He wouldn't want to leave his dear wife Yukina all alone in this world.

"You've been eating fish for the past three days," Kuwabara heard Youko say to who Kuwabara was almost certain was his lover. "Why don't you try something different?"

"I don't know anything else," the other man stressed with the roll of his eyes. Kuwabara's eyes quickly darted to Youko to gauge his reaction, almost certain the guy was going to die because really, who rolls their eyes at Youko fucking Kurama, but Youko looked amused. "Hello, been eating fish all my life, remember?"

If Kuwabara wasn't so busy trying to wrap his mind around the current events, he would have found Youko's lover's statement to be strange. After all, who would only eat fish all their life, anyway.

"Alright, why don't you return to your room and change? Your outfit should be there by now. After that, we can go eat."

"Fine," the man said, heading down the hall. He paused for a moment and glanced back at them. "You better not take an hour again, Kurama."

"It was hardly an hour," Youko replied with a smile. Holy crap, the world is ending, Kuwabara thought, practically gawking at them at this point.

"Yeah, whatever. Just don't take forever." The man then looked in Kuwabara's direction, causing him to straighten up. "Nice meeting you, Kuwabara. Guess I'll see you around." With that, the man walked away, the white sheet trailing slightly behind him.

"I... guess I'll take my leave then," Kuwabara quickly said, urging his men to move.

"Officer Kuwabara," Youko said, his voice no longer held the warmth it did moments before. The don gave Kuwabara a smile with undeniable malice. "Please give Yukina my regards."

Kuwabara felt shivers run down his spin as he hurried away, shivers that had nothing to do with the cool weather.

xxx

Lord Youko doted on Mr. Yusuke, was the first thing anyone who sees the two interacting would think. Maybe it was the way Lord Youko would constantly tolerate the other man's impudence, or maybe it was perhaps the way he would get warmer, to the extent of being another person, when he was around Mr. Yusuke. Anyone who have been around here long enough would know that Lord Youko was either heartlessly cruel or simply indifferent, after all. To see such a change, when they didn't think Lord Youko would ever get over his mother's demise, was shocking.

xxx

"Youko," Yusuke uttered, stopping Kurama in his track. "Youko," he repeated, tasting the syllables on his tongue. Yusuke frowned. It sounded strange.

"Call me Kurama, Yusuke," Kurama said, brushing his hand against Yusuke's forehead and running them through his recently shorten hair. It was now shoulder length, and Yusuke would often tie it in a low ponytail. His rubber-band slipped off as Kurama's fingers made their way through his hair, landing soundlessly against the ground. Yusuke sent Kurama a glare as he bent to retrieve it, but he could reach it, Kurama pulled him up and swiftly kissed both his eyes, forcing Yusuke to close them. "You shouldn't glare, Yusuke dear."

Yusuke threw up his hands in exasperation, causing Kurama to chuckle. "Stop with the nicknames, would you, Fox."

Kurama immediately stopped laughing and the frigid fury that he emitted had Yusuke's voice get caught in his throat. "Where have you heard that from, Yusuke?"

Yusuke subconsciously stepped back, his instincts ringing. "Nowhere," Yusuke answered, willing his voice not to shake. He had seen this side of his friend before, but it had rarely been directed at him. Now he understood why grown men would shake in face of this side of Kurama, Youko. Youko's tone promised excruciating pain should he not be granted what he wanted.

It was frightening.

Youko's arm shot out and he had Yusuke's wrist in his hand before Yusuke himself realized it. Youko's hand tighten in warning when he still didn't speak and blinding pain struck Yusuke's wrist. His eyes were so cold. Yusuke, ignoring the cloud of pain, tried to use one of the moves Kurama taught him to push Youko away, but Youko used that to his advantage, and pinned him to the ground.

His wrist snapped. "The servants," Yusuke yowled, watching Youko warily through blurred eyes as he stood. Yusuke blinked rapidly as he cradled his wrist, but refused to shed a tear. He did when breakfast was delivered to him the next day, and the servants wouldn't speak to him again, just like the beginning. They couldn't. Youko had all their tongues cut off.

xxx

"Yusuke, where are you going?" Kurama called out, reaching out to stop Yusuke. He ignored the sting when Yusuke flinched away from him, and closed his hand around Yusuke's other, unbroken wrist. Yusuke let out a shuddering breath and Kurama wondered detachedly if that casual, unspoken threat to break Yusuke's other wrist came from Kurama himself, or Youko. He couldn't bring himself to care, if it was going to keep Yusuke by his side. "Where are you going?" Kurama (Youko?) repeated, and everyone knew not to make him say the same thing twice.

Yusuke clenched his teeth and looked away. "Nowhere," he answered, before Youko felt compelled to do something...drastic. Youko Kurama shifted his hold on Yusuke's wrist, and leaned down, pressing his lips against Yusuke's fingers.

"Good," he breathed, cold breath brushing against Yusuke's skin like Death's touch. He couldn't escape.

xxx

After the incident, Youko no longer allowed Yusuke out of his room, and neither did Kurama.

xxx

"You shouldn't smoke," Kurama said, gently taking the newly lit cigarette from Yusuke's fingers. Yusuke let him without a fight, and only continued to silently stare out the window. "It's not healthy, especially for you."

"People do stuff that's no good for them all the time." Yusuke's voice was raspy after not speaking for three days and continuous smoking. Kurama was delighted he spoke nevertheless. Yusuke turned his head so he could look into Kurama's eyes, his body still facing the window, to the far away sea. "You're getting worse and worse everyday." He was referring to Youko Kurama's emotional state. "Let me go," Yusuke said, his voice soft.

Everything was still for several moments. A splash of ash hit the carpeted floor.

Then Kurama was tilting Yusuke's chin up, and Yusuke watched as Kurama swiftly inhaled the rest of the cigarette, burning it out. He slanted his mouth above Yusuke's, and then his tongue was sliding against Yusuke's, sending tingling pleasure through Yusuke even as the poisonous smoke spread. His insides burned, and Yusuke didn't know if it was from Kurama's touch or from the smoke. The two men eventually parted, mouths hovered and slightly parted, drowning in each other's eyes. Kurama finally stepped back after a moment and without ever breaking their eye contact, he pressed the something into Yusuke's hand.

"Take it," he said, and then, he was gone. In Yusuke's hand was a pack of cigarettes.

Kurama didn't try to stop Yusuke from smoking after that, and Yusuke never did stop. He couldn't.

xxx

There's going to be a bad storm, Yusuke thought as he glanced out his window, the pigeons flying seemingly endlessly in the sky. Although with no access to his powers now, Yusuke's innate intuition regarding the sea's weather still worked perfectly. Yusuke pressed his forehead against the window, relishing in the cool temperature. He'll be able to smell the sea in a few hours.

"I'm going to check a shipment of mine later this day. Do you want me to bring you back anything?"

"Bring me to the sea."

"You know you can't return back to the sea in your current state," Kurama had said. "You'll turn into sea foam and die."

"Better in the sea than on land."

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Yusuke. I'll be back by tomorrow."

He mentioned he'll leave at noon, Yusuke recalled. But at this rate, he realized with dread, Kurama would get caught in the storm. Yusuke quickly whirled around and glanced at the clock. 11:56, it read. Fuck.

Yusuke threw himself off the bed, losing precious seconds to untangle the sheets from his clothed legs. As soon as he got it loose, he ran to the door, banging loudly on it when he couldn't get it open from the inside. "Open the damn door!" Yusuke demanded.

"Mr. Yusuke, you know we can't-" the guard began.

"I'm leaving through the window." There was a shatter.

"Wait!" the guard cried out, throwing the door wide open. Yusuke threw a punch straight at his face and the guard fell, crumbling to the floor.

"Darn sorry, but I don't have time," Yusuke shouted as he rushed out into the corridor, heading straight for the front door. Yusuke had seen Kurama out for business trips a few times before things got sour between them.

Air whipped around him and Yusuke became aware of the scent of the sea in the corridor as he ran, despite the fact that none of the windows were open. Yusuke filed this in the back of his mind and concentrated on running for now, well aware that time was ticking away. "Kurama!" Yusuke yelled as loud as he could as Kurama set a foot into his limousine, Yusuke unable to take another step with the guards at the front door blocking him. Kurama glanced up."Don't go!" Yusuke shouted, his face set aflame a moment later when he realized he sounded like one of those main characters from a soap opera telling her love of her life to stay. Yusuke covered his face with a hand. How embarrassing. "Fucking bastard," he mumbled into his hand, his face still impossibly red. Things Kurama make him say.

A hand gently peeled his own off his face, and captured his chin when Yusuke tried to look away. God, just kill him and spare Yusuke this embarrassment, would he. "If I recall correctly," Kurama began slowly, poorly suppressed laughter evident in his voice, "you were the one who asked this, I quote, 'fucking bastard' to not go."

"And now I'll ask this, I quote, 'fucking bastard' to leave if this 'fucking bastard' wouldn't stop teasing me!" Yusuke exclaimed, no longer trying to hide his ablaze face. His lips trembled slightly as Kurama's golden eyes gaze searchingly at Yusuke's countenance. Yusuke wanted to press his lips together to make the tremble stop, but that would be a dead giveaway, not to mention draw unnecessary attention. Thoroughly stuck undecided, Yusuke was saved from making a decision when Kurama leaned in, pausing just for a second to allow Yusuke walk away if he didn't want this, before bringing his lips to Yusuke's. It was just two pair of lips pressed against each other with nothing else involved, yet nothing ever felt so right at that moment.

After what seemed like eternity, the two lovers reluctantly parted, although Kurama's arms remained wrapped around Yusuke's waist and Yusuke's remained around Kurama's. "I won't leave even if you ask me to now," Kurama whispered huskily.

Kurama nearly lost his balance when Yusuke abruptly tugged him down for another kiss, this time lasting several minutes until Yusuke finally loosened his hold for air. "I'll never ask you to leave," Yusuke said sincerely when he regained his breath. "Idiot," he added as an afterthought.

Kurama smiled, musing at how easy the movement was when Yusuke was around. His lips brushed across Yusuke's forehead. "That's good to know." When Kurama's lips surfaced from Yusuke's for the third time, he finally motioned Yusuke to follow him. "Come on," he said sensually, doing wonders to Yusuke's body. Kurama gave Yusuke's rump a sizable squeeze, causing him to squawk indignantly. "Let's continue this in my room."

Yusuke swallowed nervously and could only follow.

xxx

Yusuke laid on his back in Kurama's bed, forearm thrown languidly across his forehead. Gosh. No wonder everyone told him he was impulsive. He was. The slight pain in his ass was enough of a reminder.

Yusuke let out a sigh as he rolled to his side to face Kurama, who automatically smiled at him. He gestured to him, and Yusuke scooted over, lying his cheek on Kurama's offered thigh. A hand absentmindedly wound into Yusuke's nest of hair and pale fingers slowly ran through them, untangling them little by little as Kurama's other hand continued to work.

This peaceful silence lasted for around ten minutes, until Yusuke got fed up with playing with the loose strings of the sheet. He rolled over so he was facing the ceiling, and decided to study Kurama's countenance instead. His scribbling paused.

Brown eyes curiously met golden ones. "Am I bothering you?"

"Bother? No. Never." Kurama smothered Yusuke with feather-light kisses as his hand wandered beneath the sheets. Yusuke's body arched against Kurama's skillful touch. He could feel Kurama smiling against his lips. "Distracting?" Kurama lifted his head, taking Yusuke's hand and placing it on his abdomen. Yusuke tilted his head back to see what Kurama was doing and became painfully aware of something he didn't notice before as Kurama guided Yusuke's hand lower and lower. It rested on something warm, hard and possibly wet, if the splotch of clear stain on the covers on Kurama's lower body was anything to go by. "Definitely," Kurama breathed out, sending shivers down Yusuke's spine at the evident, unadulterated want in his voice.

Yusuke swallowed, not quite sure if he could take on this task. A quick glance at Kurama's face -half-lidded eyes, full lips- convinced him to though. Kurama brought a hell lot of pleasure to him before, so he suppose it was high time to reciprocate the favor. Besides, he thought as he flipped around, directly facing the sheet-covered erection. Yusuke brought his mouth towards it. He was nothing if not a fast learner.

.

.

.

Years later found Youko Kurama in his mansion, sitting alone by a fireplace. In his frigid hand were two beautiful blue marbles, their shine surpassing all gems that were known to the humans. Anyone who had seen them would have been envious of Youko Kurama, and would trade anything for even just another glance at them. Youko Kurama would have thought there was nothing to be envious of, and would have thrown them away if given the will and chance, if only because they were the proof that he made his precious one cry.

Youko Kurama brought his face to his hand, and a tear splashed against the marbles. By his feet laid the third marble, its color of the purest red.

[ellay-gee]

The Important Things

Ayy check it out, I’m figuring Tumblr out.  What a way to spend a sick day.  It was weirdly ominous that i got very ill the night I posted a sickfic. o.O

also, apologies to mobile readers, as the ‘keep reading’ thing apparently does not transfer over, and I just don’t have the energy to mess with it at this time.  damn fever.

Prompto should probably not be left on his own ever, but especially not when he's running a fever and can barely form coherent speech.

Ignis sighed in frustration as he pinched the bridge of his nose, nudging his glasses up a little as he did.  “Prompto, ginger ale is not medication.”

The voice on the other end of the line was closer to gravel than sunshine, and Ignis winced in sympathy for how painful it must’ve been for the blond to speak.  “Sure id is, Ig.  S’tha cure-all fer what ails you.”

Ignis tapped his foot on the marble floor as he checked his watch. It was difficult to tell if Prompto was just laying it on thick, or if he’d actually somehow gotten worse in the two hours since Ignis left that morning.  “I’ll be home in about six hours.  Do you think you’ll be alright till then?  I can probably send Gladio or Iris over—“

A harsh cough interrupted him before his boyfriend’s voice came back, weaker and a little wheezier.  “Dodo, s’ok.  I probbiss. I got…gidger ale. Add oj with the pulp, so, y’dow…healthy.  And that coddedsed soup; also healthy. I’m juss gonda sleep, Ig.  Just.  I’ll be ok, kay?”

“Condensed soup.” Ignis scoffed, but couldn’t keep the soft smile from his voice. “How you ever made it to nineteen is a mystery.”

“I’b tellig you, s’tha gidger ale. Goddds, Iggy. Feels like I’b swallowig glass.  This is not gonda be good for our sex life.”

Ignis clucked his tongue affectionately. “As if I’d touch you in your current state.”

Prompto let out something between a hack and a laugh.  “Y’dow you cad’t resist me. Lubb you, hab a good daaaay.”

Ignis returned the sentiment and hung up.  He had a feeling that he’d have his work cut out for him when he got home.

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

When Ignis next found himself with an extra moment, it was two hours and eleven texts later.

Prompto →  hey wheres canpoter?

Prompto →  canopner*

Prompto →  the thing that opens cans

Prompto →  im hungry and everything is working abaingst me.

Prompto →  nm its a poptop

Prompto →  stove hates me. Everything hates me. All but you ig. U r bust.

Prompto →  best*

Prompto →  fuck it going back to bed.

Prompto →  shit ur at ur meetings. Sorry.  Gods hope ur shit is on slient.

Prompto →  forvige me?

Prompto →  fuuuck. FORGIVE* me???

Me  → Always

Me  → Please do get some rest.  I will be home as soon as I am able

Me  → And the can opener is in the drawer to the left of the sink

Me  → Where it always is

Noctis groaned next to him, rolling his eyes as he read the messages over his adviser’s shoulder.  “Prom’s sick, huh? He’s the living worst when he’s sick.”

Ignis frowned down his charge. “Yes, he can be a bit much.”

Noctis laughed at that, “Yeah, that’s how you know he’s really ok.  It’s when he starts lying and getting quiet that you have to be worried.

“One time he got the flu and refused to admit he was feeling bad. Kept himself going with energy drinks and cough syrup.  He was loopy as hell and fucking bit it on the track during gym; completely blacked out while running pretty fast and basically ended up with road-rash and a concussion.”

Ignis winced in sympathy. “Hmm, yes. I thought I was successfully keeping him under wraps, but yesterday he slipped out before I woke and went to training.  Cor had to call me to come collect him from the men’s room floor.  Apparently he didn’t make formation and the marshal found him ‘vomiting up everything he’d ever eaten’.  He’s been mewling in bed ever since.”

Noctis gave Ignis a sympathetic expression.  “Poor dude.  Just make sure you don’t get it and give it to me.”

“Of course, Highness.  I wouldn’t dream of getting you ill.  You’re a thousand times worse than Prompto.”

The adviser chuckled as the prince seemed to consider this, finally nodding in agreement. “You’re right. I’m definitely worse.”

The second time Ignis was able to pull away from the meeting long enough to glance at his phone, another hour had gone by. In that time, Prompto had managed to send him seven links to songs he’d apparently listened to and wished to share, a rambling text about how much he ‘lurvd’ the adviser, and an article about how ginger ale could, in fact, settle one’s stomach.

Rolling his eyes, Ignis sent off a sweet text, wishing his boyfriend well and promising he’d be home as soon as possible. With real medicine.

By the time Ignis was finally able to go home, it was three hours and zero texts later.  This was a little disconcerting, so he placed a call to Prompto’s phone as he headed for the garage.  Receiving no answer, he waited for the cheery greeting to end and left a message.

“Darling, I am on my way home.  I need to stop by the pharmacy to collect your medications.  I’ll be there soon, though.  Love you.”

He slipped his phone back in his pocket and hurried his step. He didn’t like being away from Prompto for this long when the freckled youth was sick or otherwise incapacitated.  Ignis learned early on in their relationship that Prompto never wanted to ‘be a bother’, and would instead try to soldier on as if nothing were wrong. He could have a high fever and a sprained ankle, and he’d still insist on going on his morning run and completing his chores around their small house.

Ignis loved him endlessly, but there were times in which he would like to throttle the boy. Prompto’s self-deprecating/self-destructive streak could be rather irksome at times.

He stopped at the usual pharmacy and picked up cold medicine and a few other necessities, doing his best not to tap his foot impatiently as he stood in line. It would still be at least thirty minutes before he’d actually get home.

Though he’d been the one to insist that they get a place near the outskirts of the city, he did find himself regretting it from time to time, if only in instances such as this. But, he’d wanted to give Prompto something beautiful. The boy had been raised in the city, and though they could not move outside the Wall due to Ignis’ duties, the adviser could give him new scenery to explore. So, he’d found a small rental property situated on its own acre of land, nestled in among the rolling hills near the wall. Sure, it was a longer commute, but they spent it together most days which made it bearable.

He enjoyed their late afternoons in their little home; Prompto would wander the hills and the thicket of woods at the back of the property, taking photos while Ignis prepared dinner. They were even considering getting a dog, though Ignis himself would prefer a cat.

He was not going for Prompto’s ‘compromise’ of getting both.

As he turned onto the three mile stretch of gravel road that led to their little home, Ignis pressed the button on his dash to connect the Bluetooth, hoping Prompto would pick up this time. He had several bags and was hoping the other man could unlock the door for him.

He breathed a quiet relieved sigh when the phone was answered.  Prompto sounded awful, not even able to make intelligible sounds on his end.

“I’m almost home, darling.” He said when Prompto gave up talking in favor of hacking up a lung.  “I know you’re not feeling well, but could you—“

Prompto gasped into the phone, his voice ragged. “Iggy.  Ig. S’hot.  I dunno—“

Ignis swallowed hard. It sounded like Prompto had only gotten worse in their hours apart. “I know, darling, I know. It’s probably just because of your fever—“’

Prompto hissed through the line, whining little when he couldn’t stop another string of coughs.  “Nooo Iggyyy.  S’hot. I…the sto..the soup…” he trailed off as he wheezed desperately. “S..ss..smoke.”

With that last sibilant word, Ignis pressed his foot firmly on the gas pedal, his tires spinning in the gravel before gaining purchase, spitting rocks as he sped down the road. “Are you saying there’s a fire, Prompto?  Prom? Can you get out of the house?”

But there’s only coughing and a small thump quickly followed by a larger one from the other end, and Ignis’ stomach tightens considerably.  He brakes only slightly when their driveway comes into sight, the end of his town car fishtailing as he swerved into it. He shut the engine off and snatched the keys from the ignition before stumbling from the car and bounding up the porch stairs.

Smoke was indeed beginning to rise from the small building, and his hands shook as he shoved his key into the door, unlocking it and rushing inside.

Luckily for him, the living room was mostly clear of smoke, though it was heavy in the hall leading to the kitchen. Ignis called Prompto’s name before covering his mouth with his shirt and plunging into the haze.

He tried calling Prompto’s name, but quickly gave up as the smoke penetrated his lungs. His first stop was the kitchen, where he could barely make out the fire was licking up the cabinets above the stove and across the counter for all the smoke. Luckily he was able to spot a flash of Prompto’s bright blue pajama pants on the floor behind the dining table before he moved on in his search.  

Of course he would be as close to the fire as he could possibly get. He would not be Prompto, otherwise.

Ignis shoved this thought aside as he lept into action, kicking a flaming chair out of his way as he rushed towards Prompto. He crouched down, gripped Prompto under his arms and dragged him from the room.

Once far enough from the flames, Ignis scooped the boy up in his trembling arms and strode back out into the early evening air.  He laid Prompto in the grass and crouched down again, this time checking his breathing and pulse.

Thankfully, both were there and at near-normal levels, all things considered. He quickly checked the blond over for more injuries, finding some small burns on his arms and hands and a growing lump on his head where it had presumably struck the floor when he fell. The adviser fished his phone from his pocket and quickly dialed for emergency services before planting himself down on the ground next to his lover, pulling the other’s small frame into his lap.

His throat tightened as he gazed up at their perfect little house while it spat flames into the darkening sky. Ignis swallowed down his panic as he pressed gentle kisses to Prompto’s slack brow, running his free hand in circles on the smaller man’s chest as he rocked them both.

“Just stay out of the kitchen, Prompto.” Ignis said from the doorway as the freckled youth headed inside.  It had been three days since the fire, and they were just now being allowed to come back in and collect anything that may be salvageable.

“I know, I know.” Prompto’s voice was still rough; not only from the cold, but also from the smoke inhalation. He stepped lightly through the living room, heading for the hall.

Ignis followed, taking the same path; both men giving the kitchen a wide berth. Prompto was heading towards their bedroom, finding it mostly intact; just light soot stains covering everything. The adviser pulled out a notebook and began making a list of everything they would need to have packed up and delivered to their storage unit while Prompto began gathering the things they needed right then.

It was a short trip; they collected a few bags of clothing and some of Ignis’ important files. Most of the trunk was filled with Prompto’s camera equipment and various other electronics. While the blond carried the last of their things out to the car, Ignis found himself wandering towards the kitchen, though he was careful to remain outside the room.

He couldn’t help the sadness that swept over him. They’d spent so many mornings in this room, talking softly over breakfast. This was actually the first room they’d made love in when they had moved in. Now, the room was riddled with half-burnt debris and there was a clear spot outlined in soot where Prompto had been laying while fire raged all around him.

What remained of the interior was mostly black, but great chunks of the outside wall were missing and daylight shone through in cheerful juxtaposition to the destruction it illuminated. The fire had began due to a faulty light on the stove; it had not come on to indicate that it was heating when Prompto had put the soup on, and in his sickly stupor, he simply gave up--leaving it on as he went back to bed, believing the stove to be broken. After a few hours, the soup had cooked down and began to burn; the inspector reasoned that the curtains above the stove had probably been the first thing to actually catch fire and it had quickly spread from there.

He supposed he’d been lost in his melancholy longer than necessary, for he was startled out of his thoughts by a hesitant arm encircling his waist.

He wrapped his own arm around Prompto’s shoulders, pulling him closer, smiling a little at the warmth that rose in his chest when the smaller man leaned bodily into him.  

“I’m so sorry, Iggy.” Prompto ground out, rubbing his face into Ignis’ side. “Looks like all your stuff is ruined. Kinda unfair that my stuff’s ok, but you couldn’t save anything of yours.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Ignis squeezed Prompto’s shoulder and dropped a kiss into his hair.  “I saved you, didn’t I? You’re all the ‘stuff’ I need.”

Prompto chuckled, poking Ignis in the side playfully. “The only kind of ‘stuff’ I am is hot stuff.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at the adviser, who groaned and rolled his eyes in response.

“I love you dearly, but please save the puns for me.” He laughed a little louder, a little more freely, as Prompto pulled him towards the door.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t own puns, Igs.” Prompto quelled any further argument by pulling Ignis down into a passionate kiss.

It was a cheap way to win the impending playful exchange, but Ignis couldn’t bring himself to mind.

[maizeofloverp]

Full name: Trent Martin

Age: 42

Birth date: April 23, 1976

Gender & pronouns: Cismale, he/him

Affiliation: Civilian

Occupation: Owner of Starlight Cinema

Faceclaim: Jensen Ackles

B i o g r a p h y »

Trent Martin likely would’ve been happier with fewer siblings. He can hardly remember a time when he didn’t have younger siblings, but at first there were just a couple and that wasn’t too bad. He still got to be special because he was the oldest, still got lots of attention and praise. By the time his sister was born, however, he was 12 and had had quite enough of all of this. His parents were tired and busy so it fell to Trent to help take care of the younger ones out of necessity. With so much going on in the Martin household, Trent felt like he got a little lost in the shuffle, looked at as the much needed extra helping hand instead of the oldest boy who was, at the heart of it, still a boy. A seed of resentment against his siblings built up in him because of that. He loved them, it was hard not to when he was around them so much, but he wished there were less of them so he could still enjoy being treated like a kid. Without really meaning or wanting to, as he became a teenager, he became a bit of an authority in the house since their parents were caught up in work. Trent stayed home and babysat instead of going out with his friends a lot (though his parents did recognize this and sometimes insisted he go out, trying to let him be as free as they could) and the resentment only deepened. When his siblings got competitive, Trent would often sort out the arguments or proclaim the winner. He was the strongest, at least for a while anyway, and that earned him some level of respect though he could be drawn into the horseplay. He developed a sort of dry, sarcastic humor because of that and spent a lot of time being concerned with his family and less time figuring out what he wanted to do with his life.

High school graduation came and went and Trent realised he had no real plans. He didn’t necessarily want to stay on at the garage, which there was no pressure to do, but his mom seemed vaguely disappointed that there was no plan and his dad kept trying to find things to engage him in. Trent drifted in Muddy for a few years, still helping with the younger ones and working part time at the garage, before he decided he needed to figure out just what the hell he wanted to do with his life so he left. Trent didn’t just go to Chicago, either. He went to New York because if there was a place to figure yourself out, surely that was it, at least that’s what the movies always seemed to say. One of the things he’d managed to have and keep an interest in was music and he’d had a guitar since he was young and thought he wasn’t half bad at it. Soon enough he’d joined a band and gotten a job as a bartender which went well for a couple of years. They were moderately successful and toured a little. As he got more involved in the music scene, Trent quit bartending and started producing, working at a recording studio. He still got to play his own gigs and make a little more money besides and overall, Trent was happy. At least he was doing what he wanted to do and while he missed his family, it was nice being on his own.

In his later twenties, when he’d worked his way up to assistant manager of the studio, he met and fell in love with Cassandra Beaumont. She worked at a tech company and seemed a bit severe and controlling but liked the fact that he was a musician who also had a steady job. Where he was goofy and sometimes irrational, she was steady and serious but had a more refined sense of humor. They seemed to balance each other out and had a lot of fun together so it didn’t surprise anyone when they got married. Trent was 29 and had only been married for a year when his daughter was born. All those instincts and strategies he’d used to take care of his siblings reawakened when he became a father and it was a role he took to eagerly. Trent wanted to give his daughter, Olivia, the best that he could which included not saddling her with a bunch of other siblings. Cassandra seemed content to just have the one child and, for a while, they were a happy family.

Trent still played when he could but more and more his time was taken up with parenting and moving up in the recording studio. He eventually became a co-owner which made things that much busier. Cassandra’s career, too, was flourishing as she climbed the corporate ladder and it seemed they saw each other less and less. Trent was determined to always make time for Olivia and given his somewhat more flexible hours (it was a modest recording studio) he became Olivia’s primary, and sometimes it felt like only, caregiver. He saw Cassandra less and less and started to feel like a single parent. It was hard to remember how much fun they used to have together and while he still loved her, his frustrations with her continued to grow. Soon enough, every time they saw each other they were arguing and it was hard for Trent to manage that, his job, and full time parenting. He started drinking more than he should, which became another point of contention, and the woman he’d thought he would grow old with started to become someone he couldn’t stand to be around.

Divorce proceedings were inevitable. Cassandra’s severe nature had only gotten worse, more ruthless, and she tried to lash out at him through their lawyers. It took two tense, horrible years to sort everything out, and Trent hit the bottle harder during those years, feeling like he needed the crutch to try and keep things together for Olivia. The one thing they didn’t actually fight over was custody since Cassandra didn’t even seem to want it, though she certainly tried to hit him everywhere else that would hurt and Trent fought back in kind. By the end of it all, Trent had Olivia and not much else and felt like he’d aged ten years. For a while, he tried to go back to business as usual, getting a new, smaller place and trying to go back to work. The drinking was a real problem though and he felt like a husk of himself. The city with all the crazy energy he’d once enjoyed was sapping the life out of him now. Trent decided he needed a change and a big one. There was one place he knew that was quieter, that only had one bar (so as to limit his temptation of the vice he was trying to get rid of), and where he still had some family; Muddy Waters. After having been gone for a long time except for some occasional, brief visits around the holidays, Trent, in an impulsive decision, decided to go home.

Back in Muddy for a handful of months, Trent used the money he got from his partner buying out his half of the recording studio to buy Starlight Cinema. It seemed fitting somehow, let him indulge in his love of old movies, and turned a decent profit. Thirteen-year-old Olivia was not impressed with the move from New York City to some backwater town in Illinois and Trent’s working on trying to get her to forgive him for it as well as get the rest of his life back on track.

P e r s o n a l i t y »

Trent feels like a failure. While he stands by his decision to come back to Muddy, knowing it’s better for him, it also feels like he’s returned with his tail between his legs and that’s a hard pill for him to swallow. His humor was always a bit dry and sarcastic but it’s turned more self-deprecating recently. While he still puts on a good show of being friendly and even charming, he feels like he’s taken an emotional beating and is still recovering from it. He’s not exactly an upbeat or incredibly positive person, in fact he’s a bit of a cynic, but he tries to mask that and put a somewhat better spin on things if only for Olivia’s sake. Trent can be impulsive and irrational, more sensitive than he at first appears, and even a little broody. On the flip side, he’s supportive and loyal, protective of those he cares about, and generally fairly dependable. His temper can flare up quickly but cools just as fast and he’s more than a little stubborn. Trent has trouble asking for help and unfairly blames himself for a lot of things. He does his absolute best to be a good father even if he’s a little at a loss sometimes now that Olivia’s a teenager. Struggling to pull himself out of a bad emotional place, he’s doing his best but, at this point, doesn’t feel like its good enough.

Played by Sam

[back-alley-magic]

"Earth laughs in flowers, to see her boastful boys Earth-proud, proud of the earth which is not theirs; Who steer the plough, but cannot steer their feet Clear of the grave." -"Hamatreya", by Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Homeless Dryad

Powers: Feeds off of plant energy, and can induce plant growth at unnatural speeds. Vinelike hair can be manipulated. Can release poisons (both temporarily paralytic and deadly). Can communicate with plants, though these communications are more like emotional reactions. Is at the peak of their powers during the day. Lost their forest due to human expansion, and while they are usually calm and peaceful, they can become quite spiteful and vicious towards people who show disrespect for nature.

Faction: Fae

FC: Blanca Padilla

Name: Verdínqa

Any other titles, nicknames, or epithets: La que Pertenece a la Selva, or or The One that Belongs to the Rainforest. Alternatively, she is La Madre de la Selva or La Madre de la Tierra; the Mother of the Rainforest and the Mother of the Earth, respectively. Those titles commonly get shortened to La Madre Verde (the green mother) or simply La Madre. In English-speaking countries, she is sometimes referred to as Mother Nature or Mother Earth (this is a /very/ flattering title, since Verdínqa only has domain over the Amazon Rainforest. But still). She was Pachamama to the Incans. Goes by Vera, nowadays.

Age: As old as the Amazon Rainforest itself-which would be around 50 million years. Verdínqa only clearly remembers a couple thousand or so of those years, though, starting from when the first human civilizations began developing in the region

Personality: Verdínqa, more commonly known as La Madre de la Tierra or La Madre Verde, comes off as a quirky, whimsical woman who may be just /slightly/ off her rocker. She is full of sweet smiles and melancholy eyes and flowing satin skirts, and she abhors violence and destruction. Verdínqa likes to wear flowers in her hair and dance to invisible music, and she flits about the world like a bird, full of dreamy nonsense and endearing eccentricities. Gentle and free-spirited, Verdínqa has a profound appreciation for the natural world (she is, after all, a being of the natural world) and all it has to offer. She is rather emotional, thinking with her heart more than with her head (so to speak), and can be prone to irrational flights of fancy as a result of her age and general personality. Verdínqa is perceptive and keenly aware of other people's emotions, despite her tendency to stare off into space with a dreamy expression on her face. Underneath her flower crowns and tangled hair, however, Verdínqa is distant and fragile. She misses her rainforest; she misses the cawing birds and swishing leaves and chirping insects. She misses the vibrant flowers and dark soil and towering trees. She misses the very /air/ of her rainforest; the lush smell of life and the sweet smell of fruit and flowers. She misses the lazy sloths and bright frogs and mischievous monkeys; the tireless ants and proud parrots and graceful jaguars. She misses them all, and sometimes, all she can do is stare out at the twisting skyscrapers and grey streets of Morrow and wonder what the city would look like swallowed up by verdant greenery. Verdínqa may be physically present in Morrow, but in her head, she is far, far away, thousands of years in the past, before the humans began poisoning her beloved rainforest. Verdínqa herself is very gentle and kind; she would never hurt a fly. But sometimes, she gets so /angry/ at the way that humans have treated the Earth-and it's all she can do to keep herself from replacing the steel jungle that is her new home with vines and trees; from reaching deep down below the ground to every little root and every little sapling that has somehow survived in this world of car exhaust and industrial toxins, and telling them to /grow/. Grow, she wants to say, and take back the land that is yours. Grow, and reclaim the world as your own, she longs to tell them. You belong with the sun and sky and sea, she wants to say, not buried under asphalt roads and twisting metal. But Verdínqa is frightened-she does not want to take any human lives, for only a small percentage of humans are responsible for the blatant destruction and degradation of the Earth and the wonders that it has to offer. So she retreats within herself, and tries to remember a time when humans lived in harmony with the land. It gets harder and harder with each passing day. Verdínqa, La que Pertenece a la Selva, La Madre de la Selva, was supposed to protect her rainforest. Was that not why she was created-to safeguard her home? But how can she do that if the humans fill her veins with lead and mercury from their paints and pipes, if they fill her lungs with carbon monoxide and sulfur dioxide from their cars and coal? It's poison to her, just as it's poison to the air and water and trees. Verdínqa wants to be violent and destructive-she wants to burn their homes to the ground and let trees and flowers grow from the ruins; she wants to level cities and factories and highways and give her precious plants the clean air and fresh water they need to flourish. But how could she be so cruel? How could she be so cruel to those families who only cut down her trees so that they can have a fire to cook their food with? How could she be so heartless as to reduce their shacks and hovels to ash? So Verdínqa does nothing. She sits back and watches tides of destruction wash over the world in the form of slash-and-burn agriculture, in the form of bulldozing forests for farmland, in the form of blowing up mountains to mine coal that supply impoverished families with electricity. What /can/ she do, without hurting the innocent? She does her best to protect her plants, but she is weak without her rainforest, surrounded by smoke and smog. All she wants is to go back to a time when humans and nature lived in harmony. Is that /really/ so much to ask? +Kind +Gentle +Peaceful +Caring +Diplomatic +Calm +Nurturing +Slow to anger +Empathetic -/+Non-confrontational -/+Emotional -/+Whimsical -/+Dreamy -/+Sees all humans as inherently good -/+Wistful -/+Melancholy -Vicious and vengeful, when provoked -Passive -Eccentric -Slightly (okay, maybe more than /slightly/) off her rocker -Absentminded -Reclusive

Powers, weapons, and skills:

*Verdínqa draws strength from plants. This is both a strength and a weakness, in the sense that before nations began industrializing, the ecosystem was (relatively) healthy, so Verdínqa was more easily able to feed off of the plants' energy. Nowadays, though, it's hard to find plants that haven't been touched by pollutants added to the environment by humans. *Verdínqa is more resilient than one might think. The Earth will endure-it /has/ endured-and so will she. *Can cause plants to grow at greatly increased speeds; is capable of transforming mere saplings into towering trees within seconds, for example. *Can "manipulate" plants in the sense that she can communicate with them, more so through feelings and instincts than coherent thoughts. *Can transform her hair into vine-like tendrils at will. These vines are surprisingly nimble and dexterous, acting as a cross between a lasso or a whip and an extra set of hands or arms. *Fluent in English (as a necessity), Spanish (again, as a necessity), and various indigenous languages that have been all but lost to time (Quechua, the language of the Incan Empire, among them). Knows a smattering of various European and Asian languages as well, mostly from observing immigrants to the nations of South America. *Decent at embroidery, if you're interested in the kind from Europe during the Age of Exploration. *Pretty good with floral arrangements and gardening, as well. Has a soft spot for botany.

Weaknesses:

*Exposure to iron and silver leaves her dizzy and fatigued. In addition, direct contact with either substance burns her.

*Verdínqa's powers are weaker after sunset. They are also weaker when she is isolated from plant life or around iron or silver. *Anything that has a detrimental effect on plants will affect Verdínqa as well. Even indirect factors take their toll; greenhouse gases that cause the warming of the Earth's climate don't /directly/ harm plant life, but the changes brought about by this phenomenon have already greatly decreased biodiversity and the overall well-being of many ecosystems, which has weakned Verdínqa. *Comes off as a bit batty, and unknowingly switches languages quite often. These traits, as you can imagine, are not exactly great for making first impressions. *Verdínqa's aversion to violence makes her quite passive and indecisive when she sees people ruining the Earth. It also makes her more likely to run away from a fight than to face it head-on, though if she gets angry enough- -well. Let's just leave it at that.

Likes:  flora and fauna of any kind (though she is especially partial to those species native to the Amazon Rainforest), the Amazon Rainforest, guavas, coconuts, pineapple, tropical fruit in general, the indigenous peoples of South America (though some of them had very /questionable/ practices), flower crowns, lace (especially of the fourteenth- and fifteenth-century Spanish variety), long, flowing dresses and skirts, cotton sundresses and gauzy wraps, rural areas with picturesque farms and gently rolling hills, the sights and smells of a tropical rainforest, the emerging concern for the environment in certain human circles (though she fears that it is too little, too late), sunny meadows, snowy mountaintops, windswept plains, dry savannas, arid deserts, dense forests, environmental documentaries, books that raise awareness about the environment, the ideas of nineteenth-century "transcendentalists" regarding nature (though she couldn't care less about what they thought of "God"), rain, hail, sunshine, fog, thunderstorms, blizzards, calm spring days with not a cloud in sight, sunrises and sunsets, geologists and environmental scientists/activists, rainbows, stiff white blouses, the phenomenon of life, "La Vorágine" by José Eustasio Rivera, folk music (of any sort)

Dislikes:  wanton destruction and/or degradation of the environment, the conquistadors of Spain's colonial period, the Spanish colonial period in general, pollutants of any sort that cannot be naturally filtered out of the Earth's living systems at a reasonable rate, seeing all the areas of the world that humans have already destroyed, being reminded of how she allowed humans to exploit the Amazon Rainforest's resources, bullsh.t like sharkfin soup and modern-day meat packaging plants, powerful corporations who show no respect for the environment or their workers, sweatshops that are harmful to both humans and the environment, large-scale mining projects, nuclear power plants (despite their relatively low amounts of carbon emitted to the atmosphere), CFCs, DDT and other harmful pesticides, climate-change deniers, people who show no regard for the environment as a whole, Witches who compel her to go against her morals for their own gain, trashy rap music

Short bio: 

In a time before human beings-in a time before love and desire and wealth and sadness, in a time ruled by the basic, primal instinct to survive-Verdínqa was created.

The Eocene Epoch: the second epoch of the Paleogene Period in the Cenozoic Era. It began over fifty million years ago. It ended over /thirty/ million years ago.

That was when Verdínqa was created.

Born, created, put on this earth, whatever you want to call it; as far as anybody knows, Verdínqa, La Madre Verde, La que Pertenece a la Selva, Mother Nature-she came to be millions and millions of years ago.

Verdínqa doesn't recall much from her early days. Sometimes, hazy, half-remembered memories float through her dreams; she sees rushing rivers and sun-speckled tree trunks and animals both strange and beautiful that went extinct thousands upon thousands of years ago. She sees chaos and harmony; turmoil and peace.

According to modern-day scientists, the Amazon Rainforest formed after tropical temperatures dropped when the Atlantic Ocean had expanded enough to bring a warm, moist climate to the Amazon basin. And with the extinction of animals that people now call the pterodactyl and the T-rex, Verdínqa's domain expanded even further. In the subsequent millennia, Verdínqa's home underwent innumerable changes, yet it was always /hers/. Verdínqa was one with the rainforest and the rainforest was one with her.

Then the humans came.

Homo sapiens, as they are now known. They now dominate the Earth. They create and destroy; they build and burn. They love and cry and laugh and scream, and Verdínqa does not know if she will ever understand them. Even now, at over fifty million years old, she cannot decide what she truly thinks of humans.

At first, though, it was much simpler. The humans were only another animal living both with and against nature, just like the parrot or the boa constrictor or the poison-dart frog. If a snake killed mice and ate it, did that mean that the snake was evil? No; it was only trying to survive. So when the humans began developing weapons and taking Verdínqa's trees to cook their food, Verdínqa did nothing. All they were doing was surviving.

When they began killing other animals, Verdínqa did nothing. When they began killing /each other/, again, she did nothing. That was not Verdínqa's domain; her domain was the flowers and soil and water of the rainforest. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then the humans began to write. They began to speak, to communicate, to think. They began to see life as more than simply surviving. And Verdínqa did nothing, because in the end, they were animals, and all animals deserved her respect and protection. Animals and plants were two cogs of the same well-oiled machine. Animals could not survive without plants, and plants could not survive without animals. And humans, at their core, were still just /animals/.

They call themselves mammals now, Verdínqa knows. Yet, they view themselves as somehow "above" other animals. It is pure hypocrisy, if you ask her. But nobody has ever bothered, so Verdínqa has never offered her opinion.

She learned their languages, their arts, their way of life. Though some spread to parts of her rainforest, Verdínqa did nothing. The heart of her rainforest remained untouched, unsullied by the wholly human concept of "greed".

Fast forward a couple thousand years. It is sometime in the fifteenth-century; the Incan Empire, which has some territory within or on the edges of Verdínqa's domain, is at the height of its power. Meanwhile, the Icamiaba dominate the banks of the Amazon River. And then comes a plague that has spread from Hispaniola and modern-day Mexico to South America, decimating the Incan population. Dead bodies are strewn in the soil and rivers of the Andes, some with sores oozing pus and blood.

As if that wasn't enough, Francisco Pizarro lands on the coasts of what is now called Peru, and he wreaks havoc on Incan society. Verdínqa almost /does/ do something, this time; she senses his greed and lust for power from hundreds of miles away.

But she doesn't. Pizarro, too, is human, and therefore an animal, and therefore a being that deserved Verdínqa's respect and protection. Not long after PIzarro's arrival (a mere blink of an eye, to Verdínqa), Francisco de Orellana embarked on an expedition to explore the entire length of the Amazon River, cutting straight across the South American continent. And again, Verdínqa does nothing, even as smallpox follows in his footsteps, devastating the Icamiaba like it devastated the Incas.

That was right around (or perhaps it was a little bit after? Verdínqa's memory gets a little fuzzy sometimes) when Verdínqa was summoned for the first time. Someone on de Orellana's expedition recognized her for what she was, apparently. A Spanish witch, his mind clouded by dreams of god and gold and glory, summons her. She appears to him in the form of a woman, with caramel skin and chocolate-colored hair and deep brown eyes. He dresses her in expensive silver shackles that burn like ice and fine lace that conceals her true identity and enlists her help in stealing the treasures of the Earth for the Spanish Crown. And Verdínqa has no choice but to obey.

Potosí, the silver capital of the colonial world. Huancavelica, where poisonous mercury was mined to refine the silver ore of Potosí. These are only two of the mines that Verdínqa has found. And these are only two of the mines where Verdínqa has seen indigenous laborers being driven to exhaustion, dying in droves from starvation, cave-ins, or both.

She hated the Spanish. She hated the Spanish witch, the one who forced her to find these mines through her connection with plants, the one who only cared about his precious gold and his deluded glory and his pretender god. This time, Verdínqa only does nothing for a decade. And then she retaliates, choking the Spanish witch to death with her vine-like hair, plant roots and tree trunks exploding from the ground as Verdínqa is blinded by her white-hot rage.

She keeps the lace he was so fond of, though. She doesn't know why-she doesn't know if it's a reminder of her guilt or of her power. Perhaps it is both.

The next few centuries would have been nothing more than a blur, if not for the humans. Verdínqa watched as they built contraptions and machines powered by steam and coal; she watched as they cut down her trees and contaminated her river. She watched bloody revolutions bring more dead bodies to her soil, she watched rubber plantations and banana plantations and even acaí berry plantations begin to develop. She tried to stop it, sometimes, but the rubber plantations provided people with the money they needed to survive and the people were cutting down her trees for farmland so that they, too, could have a soft bed and a full belly. Who was she to deny that to them?

Sometimes, Verdínqa regrets her inaction. Because she was too gentle (or was she too cowardly?), the humans have now destroyed a considerable part of her home, wiping out dozens of critical species in a single blow. Because she was too indecisive, her river and her water and her soil has been poisoned with toxic industrial products that, by all rights, should never have existed. DDT is killing her birds. Excess phosphorus is killing her fish. And /everything/ is killing her plants.

Verdínqa fled for Morrow, because the human poisons were causing her power to wane. She fled for Morrow to escape the wanton destruction of everything that she held dear. She thought that, maybe, in this magical crossroads, she would find an answer to her dilemma. None have presented themselves to her yet.

In a time before human beings-in a time before love and desire and wealth and sadness, in a time ruled by the basic, primal instinct to survive-Verdínqa was created.

But this is a vastly different time. This is the time /of/ human beings, of love and desire and wealth and sadness, of greed and avarice and lust and gluttony.

It will not always be the time of the man, though. Verdínqa has seen millions of species flourish. She has seen millions of species die. Perhaps the better question is-

-will the humans leave anything behind besides a barren, lifeless Earth?

Well. Not if Verdínqa has anything to say about it.

Life in Morrow: Verdínqa lives in a tiny shack near Morrow's outskirts. She has no electricity or running water, and the inside of her "home" is overgrown with vines and branches. She lives near the water, and she hates leaving the vicinity of it. She hates the steel jungle that humans call a "city". Verdínqa is not formally employed, but she frequently speaks with environmental science majors from the nearby university about her knowledge. She doesn't know if any of them take her seriously, but it's good to have someone who is at least /pretending/ to listen to her. The Winter King, she finds, has no time for her eccentricities, and she avoids witches like the plague.  

Why do they want the Stone? Verdínqa isn't exactly sure how she would go about doing this, but she wants the Stone in order to somehow fix the mess that humans have made of the planet. And she would not be opposed to freeing herself of the Witches, too, as some of them have forced her to go against her beliefs and morals in the past.

Greatest wish? For humans to finally get their sh.t together and realize that they are destroying their planet. Alternatively, to return to her true home-the Amazon Rainforest.

Greatest fear? That it's too late to stop anthropogenic environmental changes from completely destroying nature.

What 5 items would you put in a pentagram to summon them? *A bouquet of flowers, of any variety naturally found in the Amazon Rainforest. Preferably the entire flower, roots and all, though picked flowers and flower petals can work as well. Varieties not found in the Amazon but found in other tropical rainforests can be used too, to a lesser extent. *A handful of soil from the Amazon Rainforest (or, again, any other rainforest, to a lesser extent)-thin and poor in nutrients, yes, but this soil is Verdínqa's life blood. *Fresh, uncontaminated water from any natural source, untouched by society and civilization and all the pollutants that come with it. Harder to find than you would think. *A fresh pineapple, the freshest that you can find. There's no profound reason for this, really. Verdínqa just happens to love pineapple. *A piece of fine Spanish lace, dating back to their colonial period. Alternatively, any sort of critter from the Amazon Rainforest that you can get your hands on, be it a sloth or a panther or a frog.