#not so patiently waiting for another chapter of blind spot

[im-not-a-l0ser]

I'm on my period and therefore essentially chair ridden at work so long as I'm able. But I'm bored.

Someone publish something michie or kase so I have something to read. Or Marliver. The world needs more marliver.

[todomochi-uwu]

Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. ��I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

______________________________________________________________

Tag list:

@tunaasan @scuzmunkie

[arcane-apathy]

Chapter 10

Prologue | Previous | Next

AN: No you are not dreaming, I'm actually posting another chapter. Thank you all for being so patient with me this past year. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. 🌻

Warning(s): Brief talk of self-mutilation

It only took a week for Talnir to lay down the first layer of snow. The tan of the dying grass was sprinkled with snow and frost. Only to be turned into mud beneath people’s feet that same day. Despite being from a considerably warmer climate, the horde was not deterred. They donned extra layers without being told and helped the rest of the camp as they prepared for winter. The beginning of the winter rush was nothing new to you. And like most years you busied yourself with making tinctures, salves, and medicines. Making sure to use all ingredients you know would spoil if not used soon. 

  While you were busy preparing for a winter full of illness, Kurakh started a project of his own. He would leave once his food was devoured every morning and wouldn't return to your shared quarters until the last meal. You barely saw him around camp, nor did either of you speak unless necessary. It took five days for you to lose your mind because of the silence. Opting to work in the main hall with other camp members who wanted to hide away from the harsh wind.

  The main hall always brought a small smile to your face. The rebel's and the horde's children play together in the middle of the room. An Orcish woman helping braid the tail of an older Centaur. The Dwarves assess broken blades of all kinds. An Elven man was teaching a group of teenagers how to build arrows. Everyone sat in groups, no matter their race. Across the hall, you could see Schelura doing the hair of a younger Orc woman. The intricate style was already full of beads by the time you made your way over. 

  “Oh hello,” Schelura smiles and motions to an empty spot on the table, “have a seat.” You set your tools on the table and sit down, openly staring at Schelura’s handiwork. “Do you want to be next?” 

  “It’s tempting, although that’s a lot of beads…” 

  “She’s trying to catch a young warrior’s eye… Maybe you need this style too,” she teases. 

  “You’re ridiculous,” you roll your eyes. 

  “And you’re blind,” Schelura scoffs. “This is a more traditional plait since his parents are more set in the old ways. I’d give you something different… What do normal Vorren women do with their hair?” 

  "We usually just weave ribbon into our braids. Our hair is usually covered because you're clergy, or due to the cold."

  "Such practical people."  You roll your eyes at her comment and begin measuring out your ingredients. Schelura and the girl start to gossip while you ignore them to focus on the task at hand. "And Kurakh is away checking and setting up traps all day. I wonder what he's trying to catch, he comes back nearly every night looking frustrated." 

"Wait that's why he's gone all day," you look up from your herbs. 

The younger girl turns her head as much as Schelura would allow, "you didn't know?" 

Schelura laughs, "somebody might be getting a gift soon" 

"A courting gift, now that's romantic," the younger orc swoons. 

"Oh I don-" 

"He hasn't told you about it, he's gone all day, and he's constantly frustrated things aren't going as planned. If it isn't a courting gift, I permit you to cut off my hand," Schelura deadpans. 

 "You know I wouldn't do that unless it was at serious risk of infection or severely mangled ." 

  "Maid, that is not the point I am trying to make," she scoffs at your logic. You didn't even get to properly glare before she scolded you, "don't even look at me like that! Kurakh is one of the easiest men to read, like a warg pup."

"I don't even know what a warg pup looks like Schelura," an exasperated sigh leaves your lips.

"Cuter than you'd expect," the younger girl smiles while Schelura repositions her head. "I also heard he threatened a Tiefling in the courtyard yesterday for disrespecting you." 

  "That sounds likely,” Schelura smirks. 

  "You've made your point very clear Schelura," you roll your eyes and refocus on your craft. 

  "Then you should make sure Kurakh is aware that you know. He needs to know if you reciprocate or not. Not knowing is currently driving him crazy. And if you don’t want his advances he should know before he goes too far.”

  “And how do I do that?” 

  Schelura smirks, “you can start by letting me do your hair.” 

  "I'd rather not think of my hair, it has been so long since I washed it last. " 

  "You haven't gone to the hot springs yet?" 

  "And have strangers see me bare," you flush at the thought. 

  "The girls and I could go with you, and if we go in the evening there shouldn’t be that many people." 

  "I would appreciate the company," a rare smile graces your lips. 

  "We'll go tonight, I've been dying to wash off with something other than cold water." That evening you dropped Mazna off with Roldza, luckily without much fuss. And you left a note for Kurakh since he had yet to return. With your only clean change of clothes and bath oil in hand, you meet the girls in the hall. Maaga and Galta were both equally excited to relax in the warm waters that lie further within the former mine. Like Schelura said there was hardly a soul in the springs. Only a few elven girls sat in one of the smaller pools, applying oils to their hair. 

  With the safety of only being surrounded by women making you more confident you begin to undress. Schelura was the first one in, with a massive smile on her face, "definitely better than cold water and a bucket." You slowly follow in behind her, minding your steps on the slippery rocks beneath you. The water was certainly warmer than any water you bathed with before. After waiting a few minutes, thankfully there was nothing within the water that would irritate your wound. You take the chance to properly inspect it, not having to hide in the shadows from Kurakh. 

  "Is it still bothering you," Maaga asks concerned. 

  "Not as much as it used to, it'll be an awful scar." 

  "There is no such thing as awful scars in our culture," Galta chuckles. "I mean just look at Kurakh. Blind in one eye from one and littered with dozens smaller than that. And Orkisch women swoon over him every day... Well, the ones who don't know him like we do."   

  "Men can be scarred all they want in my culture, but for women it's unsightly."

  "The more I learn about your culture the more it pisses me off," Maaga groans. 

  "How do you think I feel," you scoff and sit on a rock in the water. The warm, mineral-rich water goes up to your shoulders. Galta dunks herself beneath the water with a smile. The whispers of the Elven girls were welcomed in comparison to the noise of the main hall, or Mazna throwing a fit. You slowly sink below the surface after getting more accustomed to the water temperature. The voices above you became louder, and you could practically feel the grime melt away.

  The light burn in your lungs prompted you to stand again. The water trickled down your back as you wiped your face. The cold air of the cavern causes goosebumps to bud across your skin. Once the water was out of your eyes you refocused on the rocks ahead. Trying not to stare at anyone in particular. Schelura scoffs and moves beside you, trying to run her fingers through your soaked hair. "This won't do... Don't worry I brought tools for this." She reaches for her comb and motions for you to sit on the rocks again. 

  "I can brush my hair." 

  "I'm aware, but I need to prep it for braiding tomorrow." 

  "Fine," you sigh and try to relax as she works the comb through the ends of your hair. Luckily it felt much better than Mazna playing with your hair at night. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Schelura reach for the pool edge again, followed by a light herbal smell. "What's that?" 

  "A hair oil," she hums as her hands gently massage your scalp. "Your hair is damaged from the fabric of your headcover. It is too rough... I might need to make you something stronger. You also need a trim; your ends are a mess." 

  "I get it, my hair is awful." 

  "It just needs more than a hairbrush," Schelura chuckles. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," she emphasizes by massaging the back of your neck. You couldn't help but hum in relief, fighting not to melt into her touch. "your muscles are just as stiff as the warriors. You know, for a healer you are terrible at taking care of yourself." 

  An ache settled in your stomach. Schelura was one of many people to point it out to you. Usually, you'd be able to blame it on your duty. The life of a Maid of Eia was busy, even before the King declared war. Maaga seemed to sense this ache, moving closer to the two of you, "so how long until we have snow up to our knees?" 

  You smile softly as you welcome the distraction, "I'd say another month. It's supposed to be a late winter this year. Or as we say in the clergy, Talnir is lazy this year." 

  "Talnir?" 

  "The Spirit of Winter, son of Sokastr and Sala." 

  Galta laughs, "because that explains so much." 

  "The number of deities your people have is ridiculous," Maaga chuckles before dipping her head below water. 

  "It's a lot to remember," you sigh as Schelura's hands leave your scalp. "Honestly I forget most of it now. Just the stories we were told as kids. And the weird stuff you can't forget how much you try." 

  "How weird," Maaga looked apprehensive to ask. 

  "Eia's parents are aunt and nephew." 

  "That's not too bad," Galta relaxes against the pool's edge with her eyes closed. 

  "When creating their children, the elder gods forgot about procreation. So, the new gods had to create their genitalia. Eia took it upon herself to create the females by cutting herself open. Using her muscles to create a womb, and cutting between her legs. Hence the monthly cycle and the pain of childbirth." Galta and Maaga wince, and Schelura groans. "Want to know how Lantes created male gen-" 

  "Absolutely not."

  "Don't even dare." 

  "I'm close enough to push you underwater." Despite the threats you all laugh. A rare deep belly laugh escapes you. It has been so long since you've laughed like that it almost scared you. The good mood carried through as the four of you finished bathing. You felt the most relaxed and clean you've been in ages.  The clean change of clothes felt heavenly against your skin. Per Schelura's orders, your damp hair flowed down your back as it air-dried. The only bad thing was that you now needed to launder your only other set of clothes. 

  You returned to your quarters with your things in your arms, greeted by the smell of food cooking. Kurakh looks up from the pot but doesn't say anything. His good eye was looking you up and down. His silence was killing you, “is something wrong?” 

  “The scouts spotted a battalion just north of us. We'll ride out before dawn to intercept them." 

  "I should probably pack my supplies-" 

  "You're staying here." 

  "Kurakh, I can be careful." 

  "You are what they want. It would be surrender if you came with." You knew this tone well, Kurakh's words were final. And you didn't want to ruin your evening by wasting your breath. "That was easier than I expected," he smirks.

  "I don't feel like ruining my good mood," you set the dirty clothes in the corner. Hopefully, you won't forget them come morning. Kurakh doesn't say anything, choosing to stare at your hair instead. "Will you at least wake me up before you leave?" 

  "Of course, Odmili," he motions for you to sit. "The stew is almost ready." 

  "Rabbit?" 

  "They are plentiful here." 

  "I fear you will run out of recipes before you run out of rabbits," you sit cross-legged beside him on the bedroll. He breathes out a laugh while handing you a bowl. A plate of Freronbrod on the ground beside the two of you.

  "Your kingdom will run out of rabbits before the horde is full." 

  "Your fault for coming in the winter," you snicker as you dip your bread in the stew. Kurakh elbows you in the rib playfully, his worried expression having finally worn away. You smack him in the chest as retaliation, a challenging look in your eyes. For once you didn't recognize the expression on his face. He looked conflicted like something was holding him back. His eye goes back to your hair, nose twitching. "What?" 

  "It's nothing."

"Considering the face you're making; I highly doubt that. Is it my hair?" 

   "Not necessarily... What oil did they put in your hair?" 

  "I don’t know. Schelura only scolded me for how unhealthy my hair is." 

  "That makes sense. I think Schelura is trying to make a fool of you." 

  "What do you mean?" 

  Kurakh sighs, "Orcs have a stronger sense of smell. Because of that, hair and body oils tend to have different meanings. And the one Schelura used on you… Well, it’s supposed to be seductive." 

  Immediately blood rushes to your cheeks, “you can’t be serious.” 

  “I wish I weren’t,” his lips parted as he tried breathing more through his mouth. 

  “I can go sleep with the girls tonight, considering they’re the ones who got me into this mess.” 

  “No,” Kurakh said rather quickly, “I can handle it.” He smiles sheepishly and continues to eat his soup. You decided not to press any further and do the same. Once the two of you finished eating you took it upon yourself to clear up the dishes. 

  “Do you have anything that needs to be laundered? I’ll be cleaning my spare clothes tomorrow.” 

  “I’ll leave a few things on the pile you’ve made. I know Mazna has a few tunics as well.” There was a quiet hiss of a blade leaving its sheath from behind you, soon followed by it scrapping the whetstone. “Do you not have any more clothes?” 

  You glance over your shoulder, hands still in the tub of cold soapy water used for cleaning, “I do not.” Stew was easy to clean off the wooden bowls, you hardly needed to look at what you were doing. “Clergy life is not as luxurious as people think. I had my own room, but it was tiny and drafty. The library barely had anything other than medical tomes. Three flavorless meals a day. We had no days off because ailments and childbirth don’t care for the calendar. And I would be lucky to get a new apron for my birthday.”  

  “Just enough to keep you from complaining about working for no pay I presume?” 

  “A twenty-pence on high holidays, which there are five of in a year,” anger made itself known in your gut. Stomach turning as you tried to ignore it, “it would take me three years to make enough for taxes. Luckily I don’t have to pay taxes. But I do have to catch a deadly disease, get robbed while traveling from town to town, never see my family again, or get captured by the enemy in a pointless war!” The scraping of the blade stops and so do you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” 

  Kurakh motions for you to return to the bed roll. Patiently waiting as you dump the dirty water into the floor drain. “I wish you would stop apologizing for being your true self.” You pause and open your mouth to rebut, yet nothing comes out. “It is as if you are playing a character,” he gently takes your hand to pull you closer. “When I see that fire in your eyes, I’m reassured that there is a real person hidden within. You need to break free.” 

  “Kurakh, I hardly know how,” the words barely above a whisper. 

  “We can teach you. Remember you are one with the horde now, and we take care of our own.” 

[instarsandcrime]

Returning the Favor (1/4)

Well well well, look who compromised with my current schedule by doing this story in little chunks! Thank you again to everyone who voted in the poll, and I hope Sick!Husk and Caretaker...everyone? was worth the wait, even if it's going to be spaced out in chapters. First up is Charlie and Vaggie!

I hope you enjoy! 😊

“ET’CHHHH’uh!”

“Bless you again!”

“HET’SHHHH’huh!”

“And again…”

“HET’SCHHHH! HEP’SHHHHUH!”

“Oh dear, that sounded–”

“HEP’CHHHOO!”

“--bad.”

A volley of honking nose blows echoed off slings and shooters as Husk fought another nagging itch, ignoring the way his boss leaned across the mahogany counter, thick brows tied in a worried knot. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you? Some medicine? Or blankets? I-I can make you tea–!”

“No need.” Husk interrupted, crumpling his well-worn tissue into a nearby waste bin, “I’ve got– snfff! Ugh, two hours’ve overtime left.”

“Two hours?!” Charlie yelped, pointed ears flattening in return. She quickly slapped a hand over her mouth, “S-sorry! Sorry, it’s just. Your schedule didn’t show– it wasn’t exactly brought to my attention–” she took a deep breath, flattening her palms together as if she were praying to God for patience. “that issss…a lot of time.”

“I can handle it.” Her bartender waved a paw, ignoring the way he wobbled as he reached for a clean rag.

“Oh, of course, of course! I have every bit of faith in you!” Painted lips upturned, grin so artificially sweet that sugar laced Husk's tongue. He raised a brow, counting down the seconds for what would inevitably come next.

Three.

“You know your limits, obviously!” Her black fingernails fiddled with a sleeve cuff.

Two.

“A-and really, there’s nothing to worry about! You’re one tough cookie!” They moved to her hair, twirling a blonde lock.

One.

“It’s just,” there it is, “as your manager I can give you some time off for tonight instead? That way you get some rest?”

“That’s a real nice offer you’re giving me, Princess. Tempting, even. But uh. I’m still supposed to be on the clock.” Husk elaborated, scratching the back of his neck.

“But I never ordered you to–”

“No. You didn’t.” Golden eyes flicked to a spot in the corner, at a dusty old radio surrounded by its immaculately cleaned resting place. Untouched, unbothered, unsettling.

“...Oh.” Charlie breathed. Melancholy mood immediately shattered when more gasping hitches filled the air.

“HUP’SHHUH!” A flurry of feathers snapped wide, flapping to keep any semblance of balance. Fangs sucking in a sharp hiss of air when dagger-sharp claws dug into the shiny countertop he just cleaned, neon lights accenting a sparkling mist of contagion.

“Oh! Oh! Maybe we can pass the time until a customer comes in!” It only took a second for his stubborn caretaker to shake off the outburst, patient suppressing a miserable groan in return.

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like sleep? It’s been a long day.”

“Well yeah, but um. I’ve been practicing a magic trick and I thought you might want to see it?” Despite his better efforts Husk’s ear flicked curiously and, out of pure spite, he wiped and re-wiped and re-wiped the countertop until it was a mirror of its former self. 

Nope. Ignore her. Do not look.

“I’m busy.” He said to the near empty lobby.

“It’ll just take a moment! Please?”

You know what’s gonna happen when you look.

“C’mon Husk! I super duper promise that I’ll do it once! That’s it!”

Not if you paid him for the rest of his fucking afterlife.

“Come on, it’ll take five seconds and then you can go back to work like nothing happened!”

Biting the bullet he turned around and– 

–fought the urge to take off his hat and let loose a blood-curdling scream. He blamed it on the exhaustion that plagued him and definitely not the doe eyes that nearly blinded him with angelic light.

“Fine.” He growled, rounding the corner to pull up a stool. “But I’m givin’ you my spare pack. It's kinda dinky lookin', but it does its job well.”

Charlie wasn’t listening. Charlie was too busy vibrating excitedly, carefully cradling the beat up box like she was handling the deed to Hell. 

“Okay! Get ready…” Sticking out her tongue, she concentrated as she worked her magic. Magic being a loose, loose description considering the fact that she was stuck on the shuffling phase. Well, less of a shuffle and more like a mutation of a shuffle and a card flick. It was almost impressive– a magician’s trick that doubled as a natural force of chaos.

“Whoops!” Her hand scattered, and she hurriedly scooped them up from all corners of the carpet.

“Let me just–” Somehow defying gravity, they flew up into the air and fluttered down like snowflakes. 

“One more time!” The four of spades smacked her square in the face. Peeling the card off to shoot it a sour look, she turned to see her only audience member hunched over the bar, paws locked tight against his muzzle. Heart leaping in her chest, Charlie quickly abandoned her act, rushing over. Her hands hovered above his trembling frame like she was trying to find the right angle to lift a burning box.

“O-oh gosh, are you okay? Do you need to throw up? I could get a trash can but–”

All worries screeched to a grinding halt as loud, raspy laughter echoed through the lobby. Husk slapped a paw on the counter, letting out an exasperated whoop. “You– pff! Ahahaha! Y-you really know how to entertain a guy– kaff kAFF–!” Hysterics spiraled into hacking coughs, feeling comforting circles rub his back.

“You feel warm.” Charlie whispered, but her bartender quickly shook his head, reaching for a tissue to wipe at his nose.

“I’ll live. Now pass me the damb-- snff! Damn cards, I’ll show you how it’s done.” Husk smirked.

Charlie couldn’t help but soften, surrendering her cards to the expert. She watched as he cracked his knuckles. Flexed his claws. Took a deep breath.

“I haven’t seen you like this before. Not since Extermination Day, anyway.” Charlie hummed.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” Husk shot back a rusty grin.

“You're having fun! I'm so happy for you!”

The other froze mid-stretch, eyes widening. Shit.

“I’m just showin’ you how to do a damn magic trick. Don’t read too much into it.” He grumbled, tucking his tail between his legs before it could wag. He took the pack in one heart-shaped paw pad, testing the bend before it leapt to the other side in a blaze of red, black, and gold glory.

Or at least, that was supposed to happen. Instead, a strong tickle feathered his nose. It twitched wildly until–

“ET’CHOO! EP’TSHHOO! HEP’TCCCHH!” An encore of snow fluttered to the ground. He blinked once. Twice. Before Charlie’s wind-chime giggles filled the air. 

“One more time.” Husk said with untapped determination as he plucked the deck one card at a time, unable to swallow the spark of joy that came with it.

But he knows what Charlie is doing. What they’re about to do. 

He won’t let them win.

“Ugh.” Vaggie scoffed.

“Ugh.” Husk echoed the sentiment, shaking his wings free of the storm around them.

It wasn’t too bad of a job. A resident was struggling with their move, and prompted by an exercise to make more friends– aka unstick herself from Charlie’s side– the hotel's guardian offered to help. It was a nice thought…until she saw how many moving vans had piled on the roadside. And with more on the way, Husk was good muscle in any weather, rain or shine.

Because of course he was.

“ESHHHUH! ETCHHH’HUH! Son of a bitch.”

“I think you have a fever–”

“I’m fine. It's just a cold.” Husk snapped, prying Vaggie’s wrist from his forehead. He got an eyeroll for his efforts, and the ex-soldier stared into the horizon with a scowl, watching the downpour that fell from the Heavens. Ignoring the violent shivering and soaked fur that clung to the other like an icy blanket. Husk glanced her way once, twice– betrayed again by the flick of an ear.

“How come you’re not fuckin’ freezing out here?”

At that Vaggie’s hardened glare turned bashful. She scratched her arm, suddenly finding her muddy shoes very interesting. “Angel’s blood, uh, runs a little warmer. Because we live– or I used to– live so high up in the air–”

“HEP’SHHUH!” She jumped, clutching her chest as Husk let loose another near-deafening sneeze. She could almost mistake it for thunder if she wasn’t careful.

“Oh. Uh, bless–”

“HET’CHHH’CHEW!”

“Ble–”

“HET’CHH! HET’tshh! ‘Tshhh! ‘Tchh! ‘Tch! Tch’hhhiew!” His fit spiraled until all that was left were weak, squeaky kitten sneezes. He slapped a paw against his muzzle as he stifled, desperate to get his aching nose under control. “Heh’ntshh! Nt’tchh! ‘Nnt! ‘Nt! Hnt’chxt’hiew! Ghh– goddamnihhHH-! Het’SHHH’HUH!...hHH– HET’SCHHHHHOO! …Guh...” 

Sniffling thickly, Husk felt the nagging itch slow to a stop in time with the storm. Blinking moisture from his eyes, the sickly demon looked up to see a silvery wing hovering over his head, granting him a small, cozy sanctuary.  The fallen angel merely shrugged her free shoulder nonchalantly, “What? I talk your ear off at the bar. Might as well return the favor.”

And, completely unprompted and wholly against his will, another spark of happiness warmed his chest. He threw up his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, I get it! You assholes want me to rest? Fine! I’m resting!” 

He marched off, ignoring the small smile that he left behind. 

“I didn’t say anything.” Vaggie retorted.

“Fuck you.” His angry growls were anything but, and he resisted the urge to throw his hat into a puddle.

So he caved under the pressure a little. Not his fault he's surrounded by demons dedicating their miserable lives to redemption. 

They’re too good at their job.

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.12<< >>Ch.14

Chapter 13: Every Time I Look into Your Eyes, I See It...

Word count: 4.9K

Miguel was always in his element. Handling anomalies, keeping the other spiders from straying off a beaten path, and having everything follow on that continuous track.

His operation of guarding the multiverse was priority number one.

However, that has slipped off the radar by a notch or two.

Now it was you.

You managed to wiggle your way to the top spots, and he would turn a slight blind eye to his work. You just happened to be as important to him.

You were the undisturbed composure he didn't know he truly wanted. No matter how bad the day was going or has gone, you would be there with that gentle, patient smile. This domestic lifestyle you present and bless him with.

It still baffles him that you chose to be with him among all people. That a person who is the elation of life and a soothing paradise picked someone who is as grim and disparaging as him.

You were someone who loved him.

A sentiment he hasn't encountered in any capacity since Gabriella. He replays the moment he finally found the courage to ask you about how you drowsily revealed that you loved him.

Miguel lied on your couch, listening to the sounds of your humming and clanking from pots and utensils. His mind was floating back to that night. Those three little words clung to him, daring not to evacuate.

“You know, I've been thinking of getting a pet. Maybe a cat or a parakeet will make the place a bit more lively. Do you think you're more of a cat or bird person? Well, you strike me as a cat, but a bird could also suit you.” 

He didn't catch anything that was said; he was still stuck on that confession.

Confused, you turned your attention to him when he didn't respond.

You eventually caught on that he was in an inattentive state, and you knew that once that mindset settled within him, you could only wait until he left the realm he succumbed himself to.

Piling his plate with risotto, you tip-toed by him and slid the food on the coffee table in front. You were cautious about not wanting to disturb him when, suddenly, his hand wrapped around yours.

His claws were drawn back, and those usual heavily bagged, fatigued red-brown eyes had an extra layer of passing curiosity. You stepped over until you were in front, pulling both hands in yours and loosely lacing your fingers in his.

“Did you mean it?” Miguel curled his down, fully interlocking them together.

“Did I mean what? Getting a pet companion?”

“No, no, when you said you…”

You blinked several times, staying hushed. Miguel veered his eyes away from yours but placed them back, wanting that gentleness.

“When you said you loved me, did you mean it? Or was it sleepiness? It must have been, right? I've been telling myself that the night you uttered that phrase, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Surely it was the tiredness; it had to be! My brain is convincing me that's the reason, but another part is saying that it's not–”

Thud.

Miguel stiffened at your display of affection. You moved his hands to your hips and yours to his shoulders.

Your comforting gaze melted away his spew instantly. Your nose rubbed against his—that beautiful smile he adored being blessed with seeing.

“Yes. I meant every word, Miguel. I know it's such a strong thing to say, but I feel that bond whenever I'm around you, mi Estrella. That love, that bliss, that safety, and so much more that you give. I always wonder to myself how I got so lucky to have someone like you in my life.”

Miguel gave a tilted smile. “That's what I should be saying about you. How did I get you?”

You both share a quick laugh, dwindling it faster than it began.

“Miguel, with all my heart, you mean everything to me, and if you also allow it, I want to be with you until the end of our olden days. Even when those marigolds and lavenders have bloomed, I will want to trek onward, finding more flowers just like them with you. Maybe even growing our own.”

“I-I…” Without fail, you made him speechless.

“And I will say this, I love you so much, truly, but you don't have to say it back if you're not comfortable. It is a terrifying yet amazing thing, so I understand if you don't. But I do know that what you've shown me and continue to do is enough for me.”

You moved your forehead and replaced it with your lips, grasping onto this for as long as you possibly could before moving away.

He could only gawk. Not a single sound left him, but you didn't mind.

“I love you, mi Estrella. Don't ever forget that.” You whispered and gave one more kiss to his lips. “Now, let's eat this risotto before it gets- Miguel!”

The next thing you knew, your back was on the sofa cushions. Miguel, with no hesitation, hungrily snatched off your pants and tore your white shirt to pieces.

“I think I'm craving something else. Something sweeter, something that brings sensations in more ways than she can count, mi Luna.” His hot breath pricked shudders from your head to your toes.

That night, you learned that it was possible for a couch and wooden floors to squeak and creak when exerted with too much pressure.

That, and you had downstairs neighbors to apologize to.

A complacent grin snuck its way on Miguel as he remembered every scream and cry of his name from your pretty little lips.

Shaking his head clear from those heavenly thoughts, he trailed his mind, wondering what the other yous were like in the multiverse. Was each one as sweet and compassionate as you? Silly and full of that lively energy?

Did they love him just as much as this one did? He would check on that soon enough.

Glancing over to check the time, he realized his 'mandatory break’ (a break he rarely even acknowledged until you) was creeping up.

“I can take it now.” 

He leapt off the platform and strided towards the exit of his office, debating whether he should surprise you at work. Would you enjoy that? You've dropped hints that you fancied when he makes random visits and how it brightens up your day.

He could make the trip and back before anyone noticed.

Passing by the many caged anomalies that've been accumulated, it was distressing how many have started appearing more frequently, but he calculated it up to a new wave of spiders being made within the multiverse, especially with the new rounds of drafted ones.

Stepping fully out of his domain, he didn’t take into account how crowded it was today. He had to be creative with stealthy sneaking out, but he would make it work. Determining which route to ensue, he made a sharp left, recalling that there were back rooms located behind a sector where the cameras were scarce so that anyone with vital awareness could know their locations.

And he was the one to have that necessary information.

Avoiding all sorts of traffic and calls for his attention, he took a quick glance behind, ready to disappear into the next section, when two certain voices made their unwelcoming appearance.

“So I finished that book you wanted me to read. I did skim through towards the end because it got too intense, and that’s saying a lot.”

“The intense parts are the ones that speak the most truth and show the true nature behind it all, Gwendy. It’s good to have the requisite facts; you don’t want Big Brother to know all that goes on behind. And speak of the main man himself.”

Miguel came to a halt, an immediate scowl on his face as Hobie placed his hands in his vest pockets and Gwen folded her arms.

“What are you two doing in this area?” He hissed at them, gaining no reaction from Hobie but an eye-roll from Gwen.

“If it’s allowed to the public, then there is nothing stopping us from exploring what goes on deep in this establishment.” Hobie retorted.

“This place is off-limits.”

“Since when?” Gwen raised her brow in a quizzical manner.

“Since now.” Miguel snapped back.

"Nah, mate, being a bit dodgy with that.” The Camden punk leaned against a nearby wall, entrapping Miguel from moving forward. “Where you headed in such a rush?”

“Don’t worry about it. Don’t you two have anything important to tend to?” Miguel casually side-stepped towards the walkway, eyeing his escape.

“Aren’t you the main one to, you know, give out the tasks at hand?” Gwen blocked him as well, unknowingly making Miguel’s left eye twitch. He was fighting everything in his power from violently raving.

“Yes, but right now I’m on my break, so you can communicate with either Lyla or Jess.”

“You take breaks? Well, from how Jess complains, I think you indulge in one too many.” Gwen mumbled under her breath, making Miguel give a hostile leer at the disinterested teen.

Didn’t he resolve that issue with Jess? All the reports were caught up, and most of the anomaly tracking was redirected to him 95 percent of the time. There was no reason for her to still be dissatisfied after all that they'd caught up on. He mentally pinned it so they could discuss what could be the problem now.

“Look, go find something to keep yourself busy, or just stay out of the way.” 

“We weren't in the way. We just happened to stroll out of the same place you are going, so shouldn't it be the other way around?” Hobie probed at his ‘leader,’ gaining a balled-up fist from him.

“Hobie.” Gwen elbowed him, shooting a grave look. A warning to quit while he was ahead.

“I’m just curious why he’s attacking us for just scouting the building he enforces us to know. Ya know what I mean? If it were off limits, wouldn’t there have been a sign up to direct us away from this particular area?” He poked the lion in his absurd, pseudo-dependent den, not caring about the aftermath that could potentially follow.

“If I said it’s off limits, it’s off limits. End. Of. Discussion.” 

“Hobie, please.” Gwen’s voice increased, only to fall flat.

“Why so sudden is what gets me. Just because you think you’re the ‘big boss,’ you believe that you can switch and swindle the rules around whenever they're applicable to you. So what are you trying to hide?”

 

WHAM.

 

Gwen flinched and silently sighed out as Miguel’s curled fist slammed against one of the support beams, leaving an indent on it. His breathing was uneven as he calmed himself.

“In. Out. In. Out…”

Gwen's face creased, and Hobie was stolid, though marginally baffled at the display in front. Miguel was crossed. His dreary eyes glazed over as he removed his fist to his side, still inhaling and exhaling sporadically.

“Can we leave? Please?” Gwen nudged Hobie, making him bow his head.

“Yeah.” 

And with that, they pivoted forward into the depths of the HQ, leaving the internally exhausted, battered man to himself.

“Was that really necessary?” Gwen furtively murmured to her friend.

“Yes. There’s something going on, whether he knows it or not. Only time will tell. I’m just giving it a kickstart.”

She could only groan at her instigator of a ‘mate’ and began to swing away, with him close behind.

He couldn’t understand why they couldn't leave him alone. Why couldn’t he just do the things they do on a daily basis? Why couldn’t he leave this hellhole of a life and go to someone who wants to participate in normal activities such as listening to records from decades ago or eating cheesy pizza while watching a cheesy film?

Why is that too much to ask for? Was it too much to ask?

Not seeking to remain any longer or allow that punk to get under his skin anymore than he already has, he headed towards the secret doorway, even more primed to spend the entirety of his break with you.

You bustled back and forth, arranging new clothing and novelty goodies all over the shop. It’s been extra busy, and it’s been taking a toll on your body. 

Ever since Jax and Freya, your other two co-workers, decided to simultaneously take a week and a half off, you had to pick up the extra hours to fulfill their duties.

“I swear they are fucking on the side, because this is ridiculous! Whatever you stack up is coming right out of their paycheck.” Ronnie nearly slammed a box of fragile ornaments on the counter before you rapidly caught her. “This is what happens when you hire lazy ass part-timers!”

“Ronnie! I’m upset too, but don’t take it out on the items, please.” You removed the package from her shaky hands into your still ones.

“Ronnie nearly breaking something? Sounds on par with her.”

Whipping your heads toward the voice. Miguel waved at the two, causing you to nearly drop the box on your foot until Ronnie took it back.

“Oh haha. You think you’re so funny. Where have you been these last few days? We could use the extra hands, you fuckfa-”

“Ronnie! Go in the back and take a breather; I can handle the register for a bit.” 

You patted the counter to alert her to leave the knickknacks, which she happily followed. Without saying another word, she stomped to her office and closed the door behind.

“I have never seen her that cynical and furious.” Miguel leaned against the wooden surface, planting a kiss on your forehead. “And why are you working again today? Aren't Thursdays your off days?”

“Two other employees dipped on us at the exact same time, and it’s been crazy busy, so the stress has been catching up to both of us.”

Miguel peered into your eyes and noticed how weary and depleted you were. You only told him that work had more customers than usual, and you would leave it there. 

It did make more sense now that he had context, as you were too tired to hang out or even stay on the phone because you would randomly pass out during the middle of a sentence.

“Ay Luna mía, ¿por qué no me dijiste que te estabas agobiando así? I would’ve come by and helped you relax these past few days. That explains why you told me not to come last night.” Miguel brushed your hair with his palms, making you shake your head.

“I didn't want you worrying. You already deal with so much; I don’t want you piling on more things, especially revolving around me.”

“Oye, no, no. You deserve to be worried about. I’m not going to have mi Luna beat and tire herself down. We can only have one of us doing that.” You and Miguel snorted at that before laying your foreheads on one another.

“I don’t want you doing that either, mi Estrella.” Your thumb caressed his sharp jawline.

Miguel planted a kiss on it. “Let me treat you, mi corazón.” 

There was no hesitation in that. He peeled his shades off and set them on the table. You timidly tilted your head, holding that adorable confusion that nearly broke him. 

“Treat me? No, you have to treat you! You go through more than me.”

“I’ve already made up my mind. This Saturday night, I’m taking you on a proper date. We haven’t really had one since the garden, so let me tend to you. Allow me to spoil one of the very few things that brightens up my life and sky.”

Now it was your turn to be left speechless. “But, but, I can’t leave Ronnie by herself.”

“If you don’t say yes to that date, I will take it for you!” Ronnie pulled her dull ginger hair into a messy bun, accentuating her gray, baggy eyes and square face.

“Besides, I’m closing the shop up early to go clubbing that day anyway. You can’t be the only one with eye candy all over you. So go.” She cheekily wiggled her eyebrows; that smug grin sat too comfortably on her face.

Miguel sauntered behind the counter and carefully squished your cheeks together.

“Por favor, mi corazón, permíteme hacer esto por ti. Por esta única noche. Déjame tratar mi cautivadora y brillante Luna."

“I-I took French…” You were greatly bashful.

“Just say yes, my girl!” Ronnie smacked a bare display model.

“Si, mi Estrella.” Your voice was hushed, but enough to be heard by him.

Two more broke on the floor.

His lips found yours for a brief second, until a rubber band was launched between you two.

“¡Oye! Sé que eres mezquino, ¡pero vamos!” Miguel growled at the owner, only receiving her tongue sticking out.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. No snogging in my store! If I can’t do it, neither can you two, so break it up. So nasty!”

Ronnie and Miguel went back and forth as you rubbed your lips with a coy smile dancing across them. Your brain was in space as you gleamed upon the one you were deeply in love with. He would always surround you in the galaxy, no matter what. That you were so lucky to have him.

That you two were lucky to have each other.

You regained your bearings when Ronnie began threatening Miguel over something nonsensical. You ended up separating the two when Ronnie plucked the undraped dress-form mannequin, nearly whacking him with it, as Miguel’s feet were planted proudly, ready for the strike.

You humorously scold the two, bossing Ronnie to take her break early.

“Fine! Not because you told me too.” She gathered her windbreaker and purse from behind the register.

“And no fucking in my store!” She snapped her fingers before darting fully when she was halfway out of the building.

Appalled by that declaration, Miguel shouted, and you eyed the register, intrigued if it could knock you out in one fell swoop. 

“Ay coño, I swear she is like a more vulgar version of Peter!” Miguel grumbled and rubbed his temples in a discontented way.

“Maybe I should meet Peter. Balance each other out.”

He scoffed at that. “And have you succumbed to that faith? No way, mi Luna, you are not suffering more than you already are.”

You blew a raspberry at him and knocked your hips into his. 

“I could handle one at a time, just not in the same vicinity.” You examined the fine figures after releasing them from their boxy prison.

“Now that I’ve witnessed Ronnie’s… tumultuous tendencies and principles, I wouldn't have them in the same proximity.” You and Miguel winced simultaneously.

You bantered back and forth, Miguel periodically slipping into the back when you had to handle a customer, appreciating the hoarded collections accumulated over the decades. Though he would get an occasional distraction when a shopper would flirt or chat with him, only to struggle when they were faced with an agitated frown or an empty glare and darkly tinted sunglasses.

When confronted or questioned about that ‘daunting, behemoth of a man’ in the back, you defended him by stating he isn’t much of a people person, and he prefers to be by himself. The few shrugged it off, refusing to go deeper, but one or two jostled, nearly causing a commotion, only to scurry when Miguel spooked them away.

How thankful you were for him.

“My break is nearly up; as much as I don’t want to leave, I have to before Jess comes at me.” Miguel checked his watch and tutted in resentment. “Will you be okay, mi corazón?”

Sprawling your arms, you dangle them off the edge of the counter.

“Nothing I can’t manage. I’ve been doing this for almost four years and I have the bat, remember? And besides, Ronnie will be back soon, so yes, I will survive!” You copied along to the song blasting overhead, tossing one arm in the air, and receiving a chesty laugh from him.

“Fair. That is fair, mi corazón.” He lifted both of your hands near his lips, grazing against them. “Saturday. I will pick you up around seven, and I will use the door.”

“Oh, you’re going to use the door? This is how I know it’ll be very romantic.” You both beamed and moved into your affectionate stance. “I’m excited to know what you’ll have up your sleeves, or should I say suit?” 

Miguel stole a kiss from your lips, triggering you to mildly quake your head back and forth on his forehead, getting him to grin even harder. “Mi Estrella, I love you so dearly. You be safe, okay?”

“You know I will, mi Luna. Now, tomorrow I’ll text you the details on what to expect without going too much into detail, got it?”

“Sir, yes, sir.” You saluted, earning a grunt from the spider.

“Mm–right. Saturday at seven, I’ll talk to you soon. Te adoro, mi Luna.” 

And with a wave and a blow of a kiss, Miguel was traversing back to his wretched domain. The spot where he isn’t warmly welcomed. Only dreaded or inwardly and outwardly met with snide remarks. Harassed constantly for tediously, miniscule activities.

He already missed you.

Friday managed to approach faster than he expected, as monitors surrounded him as he requested (mostly demanded) Lyla to search for fancy restaurants or romantic spots.

“Okay, this restaurant has four stars and serves Mediterr-"

“Too low! Higher, Lyla, she deserves only the best!” Miguel distraughtly swiped one screen away to the next.

“I found over fifty places, and you turned down each and everyone! I’m done, Miguel!”

“Maybe if you found better picks, I wouldn’t have to do that.” He snarked back at the A.I. companion.

She gave a dismissive scoff and tossed the tiny screens around her in an animated trash can.

“You know what? I am done with this. Good luck, boss. You are definitely going to need it.”

“Wait, where are you going?!” Miguel drove his talons down into a screen, creating spider-web cracks in it.

“All the luck!” She finger-gunned at her creator and blipped away back into her cyberhome.

Miguel hardened for several seconds and launched the screen he was holding at another one. It was nearly midnight, and for the past hour and a half, he scrambled to locate the perfect destination for the upcoming date.

And so far, luck has refused to be on his side.

Unleashing a cultivating yell, footsteps caught the rest in his throat.

“You know, I really have to stop coming in when something is going down with you. Or maybe it’s a sign that I have to be in here when you’re distressed in a high capacity.” Peter flung himself up to Miguel and scanned the iridescent PC displays.

Various restaurants, dinner cruises, and wineries with high ratings were showcased throughout. “Ah, doing something intimate with her. That’s why your suit is all up in a bunch. When’s the date?”

“Tomorrow, and I still haven’t found the right one for her.” Miguel mumbled behind his clawed hands.

“She doesn’t strike me as one who cares for lavish things. She definitely gives off those down-to-earth vibes, that no matter where you take her, she’ll be fine with it as long as you’re together.”

“But that’s why she should only get the best. She does so much and–wait. What did you just say?” Miguel whirled his neck in Peter’s direction. He didn’t discern himself from Miguel’s wary eyes as his brown eyes continued staring ahead.

“She wouldn’t care where you brought her. You all of the spiders should know, even with or without spidey senses.” He scrolled down some, clicking random tabs.

“And how would you know that?” Miguel’s fangs bared as his claws uncomfortably sank in and out.

Peter slumped his head, wishing Mayday was here to help with this blowout. “I accidentally met her at the job she works at.”

Miguel’s jaw dropped before his face twisted in outrage. “¡¿Por qué estabas en su trabajo?! ¡¿Estás acechando a mi paraeja?!”

He shriveled at his leader's vexing response. “No, I'm not stalking your girlfriend. Every time you would bring in those boxes with the goobers, I would always catch the name on them. So, I decided to go check it out. That's how I saw her. Now here, let me help you find something.”

That didn't sway Miguel's seething mood at all, as Peter sulked back from the monitors. He then tried to deliberately pull his puppy-dog eyes on the scorching, taut red ones before him, but that changed nothing.

Without even needing to utter a single phrase, Peter took the hint.

“Fine, the full story. Look, you live in the future, and where I'm from, antique shops are common. During my break today, I moseyed on down, curious if any items we had were considered ‘ancient’ here, right?”

Miguel crossed his arms, his brow jutting up, suggesting Peter keep talking.

“And as I was there peeking, I saw her in the back labeling, and then something in my brain went off! I remembered this girl, and I couldn't figure out why.”

He knocked on the side of his head. “I had to jog my memory on why she was so familiar when, I guess, she caught me staring and asked if everything was okay. I mean, everything was okay; I told her I was just browsing; I didn't want to come off as the weird guy–”

“Get to the point, Peter!” Miguel pounded his work desk after each word.

“Hold on! I'm getting there! So, after that, she gave a thumbs-up, and that's when it came all rushing back. I recalled her picture icon from your messages! She seemed shocked at first, and we awkwardly shuffled to the front. I still don't know how we exactly ended up there, but, yadda yadda, things in-between, I dropped your name, and she caught on to who I was!”

Peter's arms were outstretched after performing a one-man show replicating the events he experienced earlier. Miguel's shoulders collapse as he is suddenly overfilled with lethargy. He pinched the bridge of his nose, Spanish trickling down faster than Peter could translate, as the fuzzy-robe-wearing spider fidgeted with a loose string.

“Ay, Peter, I pray you didn't harass her. Please tell me she had a pleasant time.”

“We did! And she loved Mayday! Also, I'm actually talked about outside of work? I knew you were secretly fond of me.” Peter lifted a leg, his eyes twinkling, and clasped his hands together.

Miguel's body twitched.

“You took May with you?”

“Sure did! And she played with her so much while we all talked. She seems to know a thing or two about kids—well, enough to keep them entertained.”

His mind raced to you cuddling May, her big smiles as you cooed and giggled with the baby. Your gentle hold, letting May look at the wonders that held so many memories as you would lightly bounce her on your hip, taking the time to give a story behind each trinket, acting it out in an engaging manner as May would squeal with delight at the cute, dramatized acting.

Then his mind meandered to his kids. That same enthusiasm you’ll share with them as you unveil the phenomenon behind the world's creations. From a plain, shiny stone to a prehistoric fossil or an old CD player to a turntable. 

The smiles and giddy glee, the exhilarating hops, and the glinting awe they'll have with his red eyes.

A string lies snapped.

He tuned Peter back in, catching whatever he was rambling on in mid-sentence.

“And that Ronnie person—she reminds me of someone. I can't put a finger on who exactly, but man, she's a rambunctious individual. The amount of times we had to catch her from letting some non-PG things slip was astounding!”

Peter flailed his hands in exaggeration before being face-to-face with Miguel's withdrawn gaze. The usual fierce, no-nonsense commander appeared as a beaten and lost puppy.

Peter's nose flared, and he snatched up one of the monitors, typing away at the screen.

“Look, Miguel, you don't need to stress over this. She will still love you no matter what, you know.”

His ears perked at that. “She told you she loves me?”

“Yes! When I said the first syllable of your name, her face lit up as if millions of fireworks went off at once! She spoke fondly of you. Saying that there was this devotion that drifted whenever your name wormed its way into the conversation, words cannot describe. It was staggering to witness that glow whenever it happened! It reminds me of when Mary and I rekindle that flame.”

His lips quivered upward, then he shoved the screen in Miguel's face. “But, enough about that. If you're so keen on impressing her somehow more than before, then take a look at that.”

An unsure stare ran across Miguel, tearing away to look at what Peter had searched for.

A jazz lounge.

A lounge complete with multiple performances from singers and musicians, a sensual and inviting aura, comfy furniture, and savory cuisines. Just an overall quintessential venue.

It was perfect.

“From what I picked up, this seems to be up her alley. Take her there. I'm sure this would be a great time for you two. So no more worrying, please. I beg you! You over-thinker.”

“Peter, I don't know how to thank you."

“Thank me by going out and having fun.”

Another snapped string.

The spider companion nudged his shoulders with his as he viewed Miguel making reservations to it.

This was going to be a night you would never forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@prozacgooble @ella-janehaven @sanguwuxyoonbummy

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 18/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

King of Prussia, PA

He wakes to find Diana curled up beside him, her head on his chest. A surge of relief and love swell in him, and he pulls her closer, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. She stirs, tilting her face up to his and giving him a sleepy smile. 

“Morning,” she croaks, the smell of her breath familiar, if not pleasant. 

“Good morning,” he says back.

She accepts his kiss and then burrows back into his chest as though she intends to go back to sleep. After a moment, her hand slides down his belly and she begins to play at the elastic on his boxers, bringing his morning erection back to life. 

“I was thinking,” she says carefully, “about what you said. What you’ve been saying about your life. Our life.” He waits, and she runs her thumb back and forth just under the waist of his boxers, her fingernail lighting up a path across his skin. “I know that we never planned on having children, but I understand that it’s something you’ve had some second thoughts about.”

“Okay,” he says, just so she knows he’s listening. He’s not entirely sure where this is going. Certainly not where he thinks…right?

“I’ve given it a lot of thought,” she says, her palm now sliding under the fabric, her fingers combing through his pubic hair. “And I think that…I’m willing to try.”

“Try?...” he asks in a request for clarification. This is not something he should be making assumptions on. 

She tilts her face back up to look at him. Her eyes scatter over his face, and she purses her lips slightly before whispering, “To have a baby.”

He’s shocked. Not for too entirely long, though, as she wraps him up tightly in her fist. He responds viscerally, his hands sliding up under her nightgown as he scrambles to get closer to her. He doesn’t ask for details, doesn’t question the why, or even the how given that he understands her current form of birth control to be semi-permanent. He accepts this gift at face value, so grateful for another chance. At their marriage, at fatherhood, at a life that feels worth waking up to each day. 

Maybe this is his path to starting again. 

-

He arrives at his office feeling a renewed sense of purpose, looking forward to his 10 am appointment with a new client. 

There is so much hope, so much possibility, in a new client: the chance to change a life, to help someone find the blind corner that will lead them to better days. But it had all become so rote that the significance was lost on him, just another repeat of the same old same old. He feels as though he’s seeing the world with fresh eyes, and when he hears the doorbell that signals someone is waiting in the lobby, he springs out of his chair, excited to get started. 

The man on the other side of the door looks to be in his fifties, with a crown of gray hair around his head and a generous bald spot up top. Deep lines across his forehead and at the corners of his eyes tell the story of a life well lived, though in joy or struggle he does not yet know. 

“You must be Jack,” he says, offering his hand. “I’m Jeff, come on in.”

Jack shakes his hand, a slightly perplexed look on his face. 

“Have we met before?” he asks.

“I don’t believe so,” Jeff says, ushering him inside.

The two men take seats across from one another, and Jack curiously surveys the contents of the bookshelves, as new patients often do. 

“So, what brings you in today, Jack?” Jeff asks, a clipboard with a client intake form affixed to it resting against his knee. 

“Well,” Jack says with a resigned sigh, “a midlife crisis, I suppose.”

Jeff nods, waiting for him to continue. 

“I recently got divorced, and even though we weren’t married for all that long, I guess I’m feeling…a bit lost, you might say.”

“In what respect are you feeling lost?” Jeff asks, making a quick note. “Personally, professionally?”

Jack heaves another sigh. 

“Both, I’d say.”

“Is there any background information you think might be helpful for me, perhaps regarding your marriage? You don’t need to share your life story, unless that feels relevant, but a bit of a foundation would be helpful,” Jeff prompts him. 

“Well, I used to work in law enforcement until a couple years ago. I had a case that really put me through the ringer, shook up the whole town. It was the final straw, I suppose, because I packed up and moved to Costa Rica about six months later. Quit my job, sold my house, the whole shebang.”

Jeff nods along, bouncing a pen between his thumb and forefinger. 

“That’s where I met my wife, Yvette. It was a whirlwind romance, movie stuff.” Jack pauses, a soft, reminiscent look in his eye. His expression slowly falls, memories crossing over his face like a mask. “But, uh, it didn’t work out. I just moved back to the States a month ago and I’m trying to pick up the pieces. But I guess I feel like my life is over, in a way. I’m too old for fresh starts.”

“What makes you feel that you’re too old? What did you hope or expect your life to look like at this point?” Jeff asks. 

Jack considers him for a moment. 

“Sorry for taking us off topic, Jeff, but are you sure we’ve never met?” he asks.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Jeff answers. 

“You’re not from coastal Maine, are ya?” Jack clarifies. 

“No, I grew up on Martha’s Vineyard and I’ve lived in a handful of cities in the New England area, but never Maine,” he answers. “I want to be mindful of the time, Jack, so perhaps we can get back on topic.”

“Of course, I apologize,” Jack says with a wave of his hand. “I suppose I always saw myself married and settled by now. Leaving Ammas Beach was a big life change for me, and I thought Costa Rica was it. I thought that’s where I’d spend the rest of my life. But after I split from Yvette, it was just too hard to stick around.”

“And what is it that makes marriage and ‘settling down’ feel unattainable to you now?”

“You know what, I know where I know you from,” Jack says, pointing at him. “You look just exactly like this man from the FBI I met right before I left Ammas Beach.”

“The FBI?” Jeff asks, furrowing his eyebrows. “I actually did work for the FBI, very briefly. But that was a very long time ago, in the 80’s.”

“No,” Jack says, shaking his head. “This was in ‘98. That case I told you about, the one that shook up the town? There was this FBI agent named Dana Scully that helped me out with the investigation. I met up with her and her partner shortly before leaving for Costa Rica, and he was the spittin’ image of you. His last name was Mulder, and that’s what she called him. I never did catch his first name.”

Jeff stares at him, the rush of the air conditioning roaring in his ears. Mulder. That name again. And Dana, like the woman at the coffee shop. What are the odds?

“The female agent, Dana,” he says, clearing his throat. “What did she look like?”

“Real pretty,” Jack says emphatically. “Petite, short red hair, blue eyes. She was a real pistol. She wanted to give me some wacky UFO poster, so we met up for coffee down in DC where they worked, and she brought her partner along. I swear, you could be his twin.”

Jeff gathers additional details, which Jack seems happy to supply. The agents worked out of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Dana had been traveling through Maine on vacation when she and Jack crossed paths. She had called her partner, Mulder, several times each day while they investigated a strange and unexplainable case. Something about a living doll that Jeff doesn’t bother digging into. Then their time is up, and he has to prepare for his next client. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t take full advantage of our session today, Jack. I won’t be billing your insurance for it,” he says contritely as they part ways at his office door. 

“Don’t worry about it. Do you think you know the guy then? This Mulder?”

“Uh, I’m not sure,” Jeff answers honestly. His mind is a jumble of disparate facts that he has absolutely no idea how to make sense of. 

They make another appointment for the following week, and the day marches forward even as his mind remains stuck in one place. 

-

“This is going to sound bizarre,” Jeff says, running the pad of his middle finger around the lip of his beer bottle. 

“You have my attention,” Frank says, setting his cards on the table face down. 

“So the other day I was at a coffee shop, and this woman approached me,” he begins.

“Eh! Eh! Eh! Eh!” Simon screeches, mimicking an alarm. “Danger, Jeff Spender.”

Jeff rolls his eyes and continues. 

“She thought she knew me, and she called me ‘Mulder’. She seemed really upset when I didn’t recognize her. So that was a little odd, but then today, I had a new patient appointment and he told me that I reminded him of a man he met a couple years ago, also named ‘Mulder’.”

Mike gives him a doubtful look. 

“Who the fuck is Mulder?” he asks. 

“I have no idea,” Jeff says. “I’ve never heard the name before. But here’s where it gets freaky: the new client told me that this ‘Mulder’ he met worked with a woman named Dana, which was the name of the woman who approached me at the coffee shop.”

Simon starts humming the tune to The Twilight Zone.

“There’s more,” Jeff says, and the three other men lean in, waiting. “The client said that the woman, Dana, and the man, Mulder, worked for the FBI.”

“What the fuck, man,” Mike says, clearly disturbed. “You got a doppelganger out there living an alternate life?”

“Hold on, let’s access the power of the World Wide Web,” Frank says, standing. 

They follow him to a desktop computer, then wait several minutes while he boots it up and connects to the internet. He navigates to Yahoo and readies his cursor in the search bar. 

“How do you spell Mulder?” he asks, and the men all look at each other. 

They try several variations, none of them producing helpful results. Mulder FBI. Mulder Washington DC. Moulder, Molder, Mulder. Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

“Try searching ‘Dana Scully’,” Jeff suggests. 

Frank enters ‘Dana Skully’ and hits enter. There are a handful of white page listings, but not much else. 

“Try it with a ‘c’ instead of a ‘k’,” Simon says.

More white page listings, plus a scanned copy of the commencement program for the 1990 graduating class of Stanford University.

“Try that,” Jeff says, pointing to the screen.

It’s a multi page document containing lists of names as well as degrees conferred, some accompanied by bios. Frank scrolls slowly as they all scan over the small, grainy print on the image, working through the schools of Education, Humanities, and Law. When they come to the final pages that cover the School of Medicine, Jeff sees a familiar image and clamps his hand down on Frank’s shoulder.  

Dana Scully - Doctor of Medicine - Annapolis, MD 

Beside her name is a black and white photograph, though he doesn’t need to see her red hair and blue eyes to recognize her. It’s her, the woman from the coffee shop. There isn’t a doubt in his mind. 

They try a handful of other searches. Dana Scully, MD. Dana Scully, FBI. Dana Scully, Ellicott City. Nothing comes up. 

“Do you know anything else about her?” Frank asks. 

“No,” Jeff huffs, running his hand through his hair. “Just her first name, that she lives in Ellicott City, and that she has a husband. That’s it.”

“Well, and that two years ago she worked at the FBI with your long lost twin,” Mike jokes. 

Jeff paces the room, frustration coming off him in waves. 

“What do you think it means?” Simon asks warily. 

“I don’t know!” Jeff shouts, then pauses to compose himself. “I don’t know what it means, but it obviously means something.”

He stalks out of the room, grabbing his wallet, keys, and cell phone off the dining room table. His friends follow behind, watching him with some concern. 

“You leaving?” Frank asks, though it’s obvious that he is. 

“I need to call my mom,” he says, then pulls the door closed behind him. 

Tagging @today-in-fic

[saph-writes]

When He Sees Me - Chapter 3

ao3 link:

Words: 2375

Chapter: 1, 2

*Note, this work is now discontinued and thus this will be the final chapter. For further explanation, I did add my reasoning in the author notes of Ch. 3 on ao3.

As a kid, Rin loved ice cream. He loved them even more when Sae brought it for him.

He always knew which flavors Rin loved, his favorites, the ones they always got after they have practiced on the football field and were sweaty and exhausted. And if on a particular day Rin was craving a different flavor, Sae would've already known and gotten it for him. Almost like he was a mind reader or something.

Rin asked him that one time. Sae shrugged and said it was obvious. It was painted all over his face.

Rin would smile and look back on his ice cream.

Because the truth was, Rin didn't have a favorite. He loved any flavor Sae got him. They always tasted better than usual, sweet and light and airy and with a special underlying tinge to every single one. Like the universe knew that Sae had gotten this just for him.

Mom and Dad were always busy. So Sae would always take Rin out to walk after practice.

Their favorite spot was on top of a wall, one that overlooked a sea. At least that was how it looked like. A sea that stretched out for miles and miles. When the sun sinked into the horizon, it looked like it was going back home into the water. Its orange and yellow rays tapped the tops of the water's still laps while it waved goodbye.

As they settled down, Rin continued eating his ice cream. Sae's laid unopened beside him. He leaned back to rest both his arms out on the ground behind him, positioned so his head was tilted upwards a bit to look at the sky. Rin did the same. One hand was still in front of him though, holding his ice cream. Rin couldn't have been more than 8 years old at the time.

"Rin."

"Hm?" Rin mumbled. His mouth was still half-full. He swallowed the ice cream chunk quickly, ignoring how cold it made his throat feel. Sae continued to look at the sky. "What is it, Nii-chan?"

"...The sun's setting," Sae said.

Rin looked back. Sure enough, the sun had begun its departure. Like magic, the water opened up for it, and had begun to wait slowly and patiently for the blinding light to fall down beneath it. No matter how long the sun took, it waited and waited. Rin watched its slow descent, so slow that he could only tell it was moving by how much of it was disappearing. Both the shape and the light.

He knew that this meant they had to go home soon. Rin took another bite of his ice cream and chewed it slowly.

Occasionally, he sneaked a peak at Sae. He'd been weirdly quiet. Both while they sat and when they were walking. Sometimes Rin caught him staring off when he thought he wasn't looking. It made Rin nervous.

Sae turned his head and Rin jumped.

He stared and stared and to his surprise, Sae didn't say anything. It looked like he was thinking, contemplating about something. Sae looked back up at the clouds to think. Rin watched him closely, confused, and licked off the bits of ice cream left on his stick. A loose breeze flew by.

"Mom and Dad told me they'll be out for a while," Sae said finally.

Rin bit the ice cream stick with his teeth and hummed in reply. The stick balanced on his mouth and he struggled to make sure it didn't fall down into the water. Sae kept talking.

"So it will be just the two of us for bit."

"That's nothing new though, Nii-chan." He chewed on the stick (it said loser) and then realized. "Does that mean we'll be able to play football everyday?" His chest grew excited. Playing football with Sae was always the best. Especially without Mom and Dad cutting them off for food or sleep. They could play, sun up till sun down, until the sky turns dark and then they can play some more.

Sae nodded. Then, he turned and smiled (He rarely ever did). "All day, Rin." He looked back up.

"Let's go, it's getting late."

He was right. The sun was gone and the sky had turned into a dark dark blue, so dark Rin almost mistaken it for being pitch black. But it wasn't, because he could still see Sae clearly in the little light left. Little bits of orange bounced off of his silhouette, and Rin knew that where they were wasn't all just shadow, that maybe the sun hadn't completely deserted them. In fact, it was almost like it never left.

Rin nodded happily and threw away his stick into the water. He watched how it sank all the way to the bottom and turned around, only to find that Sae had already begun walking away. Rin rushed to catch up with him. When he did, they continued at a brisk pace. Rin licked his sticky fingers; Sae kept staring forward.

For that entire time, Sae hadn't touch his ice cream once.

~

It was pitch-black out when Rin finished his practice. And that was by the old man's command, his usual aloof and stern demeanor taking a shift, his words coming out strict and harsh.

"You're kicking the ball around all silly and your forehead looks like a vein gonna pop out. No good practicing like that. Go home."

"..it's fine... I'm gonna keep going," Rin breathed. Sweat trinkled under his chin. "Just lay the keys over there, I'll finish soon." He wasn't going to, but anything to keep the annoying old bastard from holding him up. The ball creaked in from of him and Rin kicked it violently. Shooting forward, the ball hurled into the fence. A metal screech erupted from the impact and Rin felt like screaming alongside it. If only his insides didn't hurt as much as they did.

The man clicked his tongue. "Not today, its near damn freezing. I'm leaving for the night and I ain't leaving you out here alone. Put the ball away over there at the 3rd rack today, c'mon." He turned on his heel and headed towards the door, muttering the words "you young folk and your damn stubbornness" in a low exasperated tone.

Rin huffed, both annoyed and irritated at being interrupted, but even more so at how he couldn't poke any flaws at the man's argument. How right he was.

He bit his tongue, but complied nonetheless. The ball sat by the fence, settled peacefully on the ground just a few feet away. He dragged in his feet and picked the ball up to hold it on his hip. He didn't bother putting away the soccer net. No one else would be using this area anyway.

The two exited the building. The man waved him off. "Get some rest. I'll be closed tomorrow."

Rin ignored him. He walked off into the opposite direction, to the way of the sidewalk where there were no streetlights in sight and it stayed as pitch black as everything else. The man went his own way, into a path where only just a single streetlight could be seen, so far off into the distance, one can almost overlook it. The man didn't say anything more.

As Rin walked into the dark deserted street with his shitty phone flashlight, the idea of going home grew a bitterness between his teeth. Not only was it far, but Sae would surely be up still. The bastard has a bed time he sticks by no matter what, and it was early. Rin kept walking, but tension followed each step. If a ball were in front of him of now, he would've punt it into the shadowy mist if only to calm the stiffness in his chest.

Which is why when he arrived at the intersection--just a few blocks away from their house--he went left instead.

There were streetlights, but they were few and far between, as the road ended and the concrete of the sidewalk continued into the grassy plains. Rin kept his phone in hand, but directed the light towards his feet. Cicadas hummed in the emptiness and within the silence, leaves of sprinkled bushes and trees rustled with the breeze. The cold wind made Rin bring his bag closer to his hip, and his chin down into his jacket. But still, he kept moving.

After what felt like a few minutes of walking (maybe hours), the concrete of the sidewalk came to end. It ended near the shore of vast and open waters, where the moon had been hiding to shine its light over the tops. A wall came up to border the edge with a half-hearted fence set in front of it. The landscape looked oddly familiar..

Taking careful steps, Rin dropped his bag and came up to the fence. He pressed a hand against it. Smooth yet cold it felt beneath his fingertips.

Feeling another breeze wash through, before he knew what he was doing, he was bringing one leg forward, up to step on the horizontal poles.

He hesitated, trying to remember how the movement went, but it wasn't long before his body caught up before him. He pushed all his weight to jump up and whip his other leg over the top, and settled the other leg to the floor once they both got across. He stood on the edge. On this side, up close, the sea stretched so far out.

Rin took the sight in, and sat.

For how long, he didn't know.

He sat and watched. Watched how the waters lapped and blew across the winds, watched the moon and felt it rise and fall then rise again, (though maybe it only rose once), watched as in the dark dark pits of voids all above him, a speck of white slowly appeared, then another, then another. He didn't know how much of the scene was in his head and how much of it was truly real, but every one of them he fel with his every nerve. Like it was sparking something electric in his brain. Like he was a child, experiencing the world again for the very first time.

Which is why for a brief moment, when Rin heard footsteps pass by and stop behind him, he hardly paid it any mind. He was already lost. Lost in the nostalgic sky.

It was only later that he recalled the sound and turned his head, but by then the footsteps were far far gone, and Rin came to the conclusion he'd imagined it. He turned back around and the stars were all gone.

No wonder. He'd imagined that too.

Rin sat back so more and watched the moon glimmer.

His phone buzzed. A notification, on the weather for tomorrow, a warning for freezing temperatures. Like it wasn't already cold enough. Rin glanced over it. 8:52.

Rin sat for another minute, and slowly pushed himself up. His feet were barely an inch away from the edge, something Sae would've scolded him for so many years ago. The thought prompted Rin to stick a foot out over the empty space above the waters.

He went back to jump back over the fence and grab his bag.

Not sparing it another glance, he walked away from the terrible place, letting the cold bite into the skin.

By the time he got home, it was 9:15.

Empty silence greeted him at the door.

~

It's so fucking late, Isagi cursed under his breath.

Shit, shit, shit.

When he said he'd be with a friend for the afternoon, his parents just told him to come home before dinner. Now instead of being home for dinner, he'd be lucky if he got there before they went to sleep.

Isagi picked up the pace. But no matter what the freezing cold made him shiver with every step. His wrapped jacket and scarf weren't doing much. Damn useless. It didn't help that it was incredibly dark. So instead of keeping his hands warm in his pockets, one had to be out to shine a flashlight at where he walked. He'd rather not trip on his own feet. And go home covered in mud.

Luckily, once he got to the walkway overlooking the ocean, he was able to put the light away. The moon was lying low on the horizon, shining light onto the landscape, and a few streetlights were actually present here and there. His hands tucked into his pocket.

Isagi breathed, letting out a foggy cool mist, and decided to sprint ever so carefully. Enough so that he was making distance, but slowly to not make the icy winds unbearable, or make his lungs freeze.

But just as Isagi thought of how he was going to apologize when he got home, something crossed his vision. He slowed down.

A head of short black hair, sitting behind the fence (at least, he thinks it's black), tilted upwards to look at the sky. Both of their hands were behind their back to rest against the concrete ground, and their legs were swung over wall.

Isagi ignored them at first, thinking it was just some crazy person sitting out to freeze their ass off. That was until he noticed a bag laying not too far behind the figure, in front of the fence drawn across the walkway.

It looked like Rin's.

He stopped, and glanced back over at the figure. Despite Isagi not being quiet whatsoever, the person didn't pay him any mind. In fact, they hadn't move an inch, still staring at something far away in front of them. Like they were lost in something he couldn't see.

Was that him...?

Isagi shook his head again, immediately dispelling the thought. He sprint forwards and passed the figure quickly.

It probably wasn't. That bag brand was extremely popular; it could be anyone's. And Rin's insane for training in the cold, but he's not crazy enough to be out in below-freezing temperatures. At least, he hope he wasn't.

Isagi ran around the block before realizing he went the wrong way. When he went back to that location, the person was gone. The wall where they sat stayed as silent as it was before, still overlooking the moon that had risen up and up. And right there in the sky, so small that Isagi would have to squint to see, a singular dot of light emerged, the first star of the night. Isagi noticed it as he ran into the distance. Maybe that was what the person was searching for.

The icy, cold winds blew across their empty spot.

[baron-a-w-k]

Here is a deleted chapter for you all to enjoy, as there is no room for it in book two. Please leave a review and a like, if you enjoyed it...

In a darkened room, two candles sit on either side of a wooden table. Andros sits there, contemplating the chess board before him, with its unique chess pieces. The white pieces, placed across from him for his opponent, have golden sparkles embedded in them, while the black pieces are coated with glowing white stars. Leaning back in red Chesterfield chair, he places his right hand on the arm rest. Tapping his index finger in time with the clunking of a grandfather clock behind him, he stares at the empty chair opposite, waiting patiently, with an impassive expression on his face. As the clock begins to chime midnight, the flames from the candles flicker, but with no sound of a door being opened or light shining in. A dark-haired man wearing a white suit slowly walks towards the table, standing there observing Andros. Andros stares at him, with an expression of curiosity. Then he stops the tapping and sits up, focusing on his opponent’s eyes.

“Shall we begin?” Andros asks.

The visitor sits down in the opposite chair, while viewing the chessboard in front of him. For a brief moment, he thinks and then moves a pawn two squares forward.

Andros does the same with one of his own pawns so that the two pieces now face each other.

“You murdered someone with the explicit intent of giving them a message to pass on to me, to be in this place at this time. Why?” the visitor demands.

“Because of who you are, Lucifer Morningstar.” Andros explains, moving his knight. “I always wanted a match with you, and a chat.”

“Oh Andros, I’m very touched at what you have done for our meeting, even for laying out this game for me.” Lucifer moves his Bishop.

Andros smiles. “So, tell me this, Lucifer. If I were to challenge you to combat, who would come out victorious?” He moves another pawn, this time just one space.

“I think it would be a draw, as your powers against mine would be an even match.” Lucifer responds, moving another piece. “However, your brother…”

Andros stares at him with scorn.

“He would disintegrate me on the spot without hesitation, as he has no rival in power level.”

“How well do you know my brother?” Andros asks, moving a chess piece.

“Well, Andros,” Lucifer replies, “I know quite a lot about your brother – and your kind in general.”

“I see. Why hasn’t your kind challenged us yet?”

“Because it would end in a draw. I am aware you are not with your people anymore.”

“Well, they are blind in sticking to the Guziluman code of conduct. What a bunch of fools they truly are.”

“Are you aware of who created your kind,” Lucifer continues, “and why they were put here in the first place?”

“I know some vague details, however, please elaborate.”

“What do you know about me, and my history?”

“Not as much as you apparently know about mine!”

Lucifer grins and explains “Long ago, when humanity wasn’t aware of my kind, I rebelled. The war had spread down to Earth, with battles being fought through various locations. It looked like it would never end, until my side started gaining the advantage. On the 8th day, the battle was in a large valley. In the middle of it all, I was just about to charge the other leader when two figures appeared literally out of nowhere between us, stopping us in our tracks. Both of them were transparent, as if made of glass, until one of them transformed its appearance. It morphed into a man wearing a pin-stripe suit and a bowler hat, while holding an umbrella with a handle carved into the shape of mallard.

“Both my opponent and I were so surprised we cried out loud, drawing the attention of those closest to us, who also stopped fighting. As the area of non-fighting spread, the pin-striped figure spoke. In an upper-class English accent, he said ‘Good day gentlemen, we have come here looking for a group cave dwellers, as we want to talk to one of them about becoming a volunteer for us in the Guziluman Experiment.’ We all looked at them, wondering what was going on.”

Andros smiles trying not to laugh.

“We all looked dumbfounded, until one of the soldiers pointed in the direction where they needed to go. They thanked us and introduced themselves as Sikan and Dinon, before walking off, Sikan complaining ‘We’ve landed in the wrong area again. At least it’s not the wrong era this time.’ We all watched them disappear over the horizon, then the battle continued, until I got hit over the head and knocked out.”

Andros bursts out with laughter at what he just heard, as Lucifer looks displeased.

“Did you meet them again?”

“Of course, as I was very fascinated with them, as they were not part of creation. I found them and learned quite a lot about them and where they were from.”

“Please elaborate.”

Lucifer describes to Andros everything about Sikan and Dinon in detail and what their purpose is. Andros beams even more, as he now knows the truth about the Guziluman race. The game continues until it eventually ends in a stalemate.

The two look at each other with respect, and Lucifer sits back into his chair.

“I guess we could play another game, however, it would end with the same result.”

“Indeed Lucifer, we are too evenly matched.”

“Tell me this Andros. Your plans for the human race - how far would you go?”

“Very far, because after what I saw in relation to the Messiah, - how he was treated, and even killed, just for his message - I realised that Humanity still needs to be taught a lesson about what they have done, so they can progress to actually leaving this world in a more pristine state.”

“Well, I could help you in your goal. However, upstairs would be very upset. The Mighty One would start the war all over again. But with your kind being here, they would put a stop to it instantly.”

“Yes, and that would bring more inference from the creators, which I would rather avoid.”

“Well, I wish you luck and if you ever decide to pop down for a visit, I will make your trip an interesting one.”

Andros nods in thanks.

“Now, what is your deal with the witch?”

“Oh her. She is part of my plans. However, she remains in this dagger,” Andros explains as produces it in front of him, “until I am ready for her. Then she will be released.”

Lucifer stares at it, as gets up from his chair, ready to leave.

“Well, at least you have her contained. Anyway, before I go, I want to see your true eyes. Please show me them.”

“As you wish.” Andros replies, he closes them for a brief moment. As the room shakes a little. Then opening them slowly, revealing blue vertical blue slits with silver pupils at the centre. He stares straight at Lucifer, like a predator staking its prey.

“Remarkable,” as Lucifer looks amazed. “Eyes like a cat, but very out of this world.”

“Why thank you Lucifer, it took a lot of work in the past to achieve this form you see before you. However, my Guzilkion abilities have stretched far beyond what you see now.”

“I kinda guessed that, as both realms felt the battle between you and your brother.

“And how did it feel?”

“Terrifying!”

“Well, I’m glad you know the true power of my kind. So, are you still certain a fight between us would end in a draw?”

“Okay, you got me. I wouldn’t win, because you stretching you powers beyond its limits, with no stopping point, would be unbeatable. That really scares me – in fact it scares us all.”

Andros grins, at that. Then he sobers, realising that the day he faces his brother again may decide the fate of the cosmos, with Hawken having the power to destroy it accidentally.

Lucifer takes a bow and disappears, leaving Andros alone. Holding the blade of the dagger in his right hand, he stares at the blood red jewel. “I hope you enjoy watching the match,” he murmurs to it, “but remember the day I choose to release you will be the day my plans have become reality.” He throws the dagger as the door, getting up from his chair. He takes a one last look at the chess board, “If I challenge him to another game, it will be Hungry Hippos!”

Andros walks towards the door and grabs the dagger embedded in it, before he opens the door. He takes one last look at the room, as is begins to fade from existence. Opening the door he walks out with a smile on his face, looking pleased at the information he has acquired…

[silver-rings-and-rabbits]

Open Heart 2 - Chapter 4

Blind Spot

Another long week passed before an all-hands staff meeting was called in the conference room, a full month after Ethan had told Matthew to keep the budget crisis a secret. He hadn’t been in here since his ethics hearing last year and, as he sidled up to Bryce and Jackie, he realised just how small the podium was from the back row.

“They’re running a skeleton staff to get everyone here,” Jackie grunted as they shuffled down the line to make way for yet more doctors. “Must be important.”

Matthew hummed in agreement but didn’t say anything else. He had a pretty good guess what it might be.

Indeed, Naveen stepped up to the podium and announced that, despite Governor Rivera’s glowing remarks about Edenbrook, the state budget would be eliminating most of the subsidiaries that the hospital relied on.

“That’s not good,” Bryce said, his eyes wide as nervous whispering filled the auditorium. Jackie frowned, listening hard as Naveen explained changes to insurances policies and payroll. Matthew pushed his hair back.

“As for residents, second-years will stay on their intern salaries for the time being,” Naveen spoke, and then there was outcry.

“We’re not getting our raises?! They can’t do that!” Jackie gasped.

“We have to do our part Jackie…”

She whirled on him.

“Matthew, we do our part! We work eighty hours a week to save lives and, not only do they not even pay us enough to live in the city, they wait until the last possible moment to tell us!”

Matthew couldn’t argue with that as Jackie turned to the front and shouted: “Stop trying to screw over the lowest paid people and cut the senior staff’s salaries!”

This was met with a lot of agreement noise, even some applause. Naveen waited patiently for it to die down before explaining that changes would be made amongst the senior staff as well. Matthew kept quiet, feeling suitably told off. Jackie hadn’t been wrong, and he knew that the hospital had been sitting on this for a month.

“Man,” Bryce murmured. “How long have they been sitting on this bombshell?”

“Didn’t you guys on the diagnostics team know anything?”

The two of them turned to look at him. Matthew hesitated for a split second before deciding he was no longer obligated to keep it a secret.

“I heard from Dr Ramsey nearly a month ago,” he admitted, and he watched their faces fall. “I’m so sorry you guys, Dr Ramsey told me not to say anything.”

“Of course he did,” Jackie sighed. She nodded at Matthew and Bryce patted his shoulder reassuringly. Matthew relaxed a little.

Naveen continued to field questions from concerned doctors as Matthew felt his pager vibrating in his pocket. He whispered a goodbye to his friends and quietly made his way out of the auditorium and into the hallway where the man himself stood waiting.

“Thank you, Dr Valentine,” Ethan said as they walked down the hall. “I know keeping the news to yourself for so long wasn’t easy.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to last much longer,” Matthew warned. Ethan nodded.

“The important thing is that now everyone knows and we can focus on our patients properly.”

Ethan took Matthew up to the seventh floor where the diagnostic patients room was occupied by Baz, June, and a middle-aged woman with curly grey hair. June introduced her as Evelyn De La Vega and, when Ethan and Matthew greeted her, her head turned towards them but her eyes continued to search the room. It had been a sudden onset of total vision loss.

“It happened two days ago,” Evelyn said. “I woke up and thought it was still dead of night. And if it doesn’t clear up soon, I’m going to miss my first gallery exhibition.”

“Evelyn here is a painter,” Baz explained. Matthew’s attention caught.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “It’s an awful thing to happen but when your life’s work is all about sight…”

“Almost poetic, isn’t it?” Evelyn said, with a dry smile. “I’ll find a way, somehow. Life is all about perspective.”

Matthew prepared to start a closer eye examination when June said: “I’ve heard you’re something of an artist, Matthew.”

Matthew flushed. “Oh…well…”

“Really?” Evelyn’s eyes hovered in the direction of his voice. “What kind of art?”

Matthew ducked his head, even though Evelyn couldn’t see him. “I just like to draw,” he explained. “I used to go out and draw from nature, but these days I just refer to photos. It’s always been a small hobby though, being a doctor doesn’t leave room for much else.”

Matthew fondly remembered his art teacher and his visible disappointment when Matthew told him he was dropping art to pursue medicine, and he’d begged Matthew not to give up completely. And he hadn’t; it had always helped him unwind. He’d done a coloured sketch of a group photo last year, that had been framed and put up in their living room…and then re-drew it to replace Landry with Aurora. But now that he thought about it, he hadn’t drawn anything in a while.

“Could I perhaps see some of it when I get better, Dr Valentine? If that’s alright with you.”

“Sure.”

The examination showed a negative for the common conditions, including opacification and hypertension.

“Any pre-existing conditions not on your chart?” Ethan asked.

“I’m pretty healthy for a sixty-year-old,” Evelyn shrugged. “Leg cramps, I guess, from standing at a canvas all day long.”

“Did you have chicken pox as a kid?” Matthew asked.

“Who didn’t?”

“Hmm…could be V2V coming back after dormancy in the nerves.”

Ethan told Matthew to run a test and report back with the results. As the doctors filed out, Evelyn told Matthew she owed him a portrait when she got better.

****

Leaving the test sample in the lab for the results, Matthew paged Esme to brief her on some new cases.

“…And here’s Mr Daniels in room 403.”

Esme scanned the chart.

“Looks to me like heart failure exacerbation.”

“Agreed. Are you all set? I gotta run and put five hours in at the clinic.”

“That sounds awful,” Esme smirked as she gathered her charts. Matthew snorted.

“Laugh it up now, but it will be you next year!”

Matthew was shown into his clinic examination room where he logged onto the computer and called on his first patient: a six-year-old boy and his exhausted mother.

“Id’s stuck!” the boy announced, thickly. Whatever it was, he was proud of it.

“Will put a lego guy’s head up his nose and I can’t get the darned thing out,” his mother explained, wearily.

“What did the lego guy do to deserve this?” Matthew asked, helping Will up onto the exam bed.

“He wuntd to explore!”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Matthew murmured, as he shone a pen light up the boys nose. The lego head wasn’t too far in. “My trusty sucker hasn’t let me down yet.”

Countless smear tests, blood tests, x-rays, eye, ear, nose and throat exams later, and Matthew’s five hours were up. He rewarded himself with a mug of coffee and as he was filling his cup, a familiar voice called out to him.

“Matthew!”

“Kyra!” Matthew almost spilled coffee as she bounded over to give him a hug. She was still bald from her chemo treatments, but her eyes were bright and her smile was as dazzling as ever. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I hear you’re married to the job these days,” Kyra said, and Matthew winced. “But don’t sweat it, we can hang out now.”

Matthew paid for his coffee and they sat down at an empty table.

“Are you here for treatment?” Matthew asked.

“Actually…I’m here for a job interview!”

“No way!”

“Edenbrook’s looking for an administrative assistant. It’s a temp job, but I have an accounting degree and a whole load of medical bills!” She laughed nervously.

“Go for it, why not?” Matthew said. “Except…do you think you’re up to working in your condition?” He didn’t want to discourage her, but he had seen how exhausted cancer patients could get…not to mention his poor sister, lying on the sofa and barely able to lift her head sometimes. However, Kyra seemed non-plussed.

“The chemo isn’t leaving me as wrecked as it used to and my oncologist thinks it’s OK. I put her down as one of my references, actually. Listen, Matthew,” she added, when he didn’t look convinced. “I really want this job. I’m so sick of being the cancer girl.”

“No one sees you as—”

“My other friends and family do! All they talk about is how brave I am. It’s like being wrapped in cotton wool.” She rolled her eyes. “Weird how my doctor friends are the ones who can make me feel the most normal.”

“We like to help however we can,” Matthew smiled. “Though I was gonna ask how your chemo is going…”

“Bah. Same old, same old. Nauseous, puking all over the shop, mood swings, weight swings, but it turns out I look great bald.”

“You’d look great in any style.”

“Thanks. But the main thing is, the doctors think things are going well. And since they told me that, I’ve actually started picturing a future. Like, I could go back to school and do a masters. I never considered that before. But…it scares me.”

Her fingers clenched, and Matthew gently covered her hand.

“The future is scary,” he agreed. “Especially with all the turmoil you’ve faced. But I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. Just remember to take it one day at a time and it’s less overwhelming that way.”

Kyra took a deep breath and her confident smile returned.

“OK. As long as you’re hanging around, you’ve got a deal. Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take the first step towards the rest of my life!”

Matthew didn’t see Kyra for the rest of his shift. He felt slightly nervous as he sat in a Donahue’s booth with the gang, and jumped up when Kyra eventually walked through the door.

“Matthew told us about your interview!” Elijah said. “How was it?”

“I was so nervous that I called Doctors Philips and Wilcock Wilips and Philcock, so that was a good start,” Kyra said. “But I guilted them with the cancer thing a little, and they were kind of desperate so…they hired me!”

The group gave a big cheer, raising their glasses. Bryce bought Kyra a Shirley Temple.

“When do you start?” he asked.

“I started this afternoon actually. They wanted me moving the budget around as soon as possible.” Kyra’s smile drooped. She couldn’t hide the reality of the situation. “It’s…not great, you guys.”

There was a pause as the gang felt the weight of this statement.

“What are the worst parts?” Matthew asked, bracing himself.

“The clinic and the diagnostics team are probably the most expensive to run…”

“Hang on, the diagnostics team has a national profile!” Elijah said. “They must bring tons of patients to Edenbrook.”

“We take cases based on merit,” Matthew explained. “Patients pay what they can afford. Most of them end up pro bono.”

“Time to start praying for some billionaires to get seriously sick,” Bryce said, with a wicked grin.

“Way ahead of you.” Jackie’s grin was equally wicked and Matthew narrowed his eyes at the two of them.

“There’s some truth in that, actually…taking on more rich patients could off-set the pro-bono patients,” Kyra said, thoughtfully.

Sienna had been quiet, her chin propped on her hand, her gaze distant, but now she suddenly snapped to attention.

“Ooh! Gwyneth Monroe!”

“Who?”

Sienna grabbed her phone and showed Matthew a video of a beautiful young woman, sobbing as she explained about her mystery weight loss and how every doctor she’d seen had been unbearably dismissive.

“Why do people think that’s OK?” Matthew growled. “Doctor’s shouldn’t be dismissing anyone.”

“Agreed,” Sienna said. “But if you invite her to Edenbrook, she could probably pay a good amount. She has a huge following on social media…excuse me…” she added, around a yawn. “…and she has a make-up line, and a fashion line, and released a book last year. I think a second book is in the works too.”

“The problem is, Ethan’s adamant that the diagnostics team never invites patients. They have to come to us.”

“No offence Matthew, but I’m not sure now is the best time to be listening to Ramsey,” Jackie said. And once again, she made a valid point.

****

Back at the apartment, Matthew was researching ocular disorders when a knock at the door roused him. It turned out to be their landlord, Farley.

“Your check bounced!” Farley started as soon as Matthew had opened the door. “I swear, if this is some ‘tenants rights’ crap…” He continued ranting for a few minutes. Matthew had to shout to get his attention.

“FARLEY. My check hasn’t bounced. What are you talking about?”

Farley blinked and seemed to finally register that it was Matthew who stood in front of him.

“Yours is fine,” he said, gruffly. “It’s the other one that’s the problem. The Indian girl with all the leather.”

Farley continued to complain about bounced checks until Matthew placated him with a promise that it would be cleared soon. He closed the door on Farley and turned back to the living room. Jackie was already stood there, her eyes wet.

“Sorry about that,” she said, uncharacteristically quiet. Matthew waited a few minutes for her to speak, but she was avoiding his gaze.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” he said, gently. She rolled her eyes.

“Stop thinking you can fix everything, Matthew. Because you can’t. This is my problem.”

She slumped down on the couch, and Matthew cautiously sat beside her.

“I’m broke, Matthew,” she eventually admitted. “I thought I could manage…I’m paying off all the tuition interest. If we got our raises I’d be OK, but now…” her sentence trailed off and she stared at the ceiling, blinking hard.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“What would you have done? You’re all poor too, except maybe Aurora. Not that it matters, since I won’t take anything from anyone.”

Matthew frowned, and then reached for his laptop and opened up a new search tab; there had to be some kind of side gig available. Jackie looked sceptical as they scrolled through the results, until Matthew found one that sounded promising.

“A babysitting gig in our building! Jackpot!”

“But I’ve never babysat before…”

“It’ll be a piece of cake. I’ve babysat before and I was a teenager. You just put on a movie, make them something to eat, and then the kid goes to bed.”

Jackie groaned loudly and hid her face in the sofa cushions…but her need was too high and she agreed on the grounds that Matthew would come with her, at least for the first time.

The first time ended up being that night as Jackie ended up being the last hope for two harried parents, anxious about making it to an important work dinner. They fell on Jackie and Matthew with almost too much gratitude and left warning them that Lulu was complicated, but they had the power, and all the phone numbers they could possibly need were on the fridge.

“That was weird,” Matthew muttered, as the parents left. Jackie shrugged and knocked on the door to Lulu’s bedroom, where she was lying on the floor with a colouring book. She had a sweet face when she looked up at them.

“Hi Lulu, I’m Jackie and this is—”

“Why does your face look like that?”

Neither of them expected that. Jackie steeled herself.

“Like what?” The arched eyebrow was back.

Lulu propped herself on her elbows and looked at Jackie.

“You look sad and old,” she said. “Are you sad and old?”

“No, I’m annoyed and young,” Jackie said smoothly, as Matthew looked between them nervously.

“What’s your excuse?”

Matthew jumped as Lulu turned on him.

“For what??”

“Your eyes. You’ve got bags bigger than my backpack under them. And they’re dark, like you’ve been punched in the face loads.”

Matthew spluttered as Jackie gave him a silent but very pointed look. She knew he didn’t sleep when he was upset.

“I got a really good night’s sleep last night,” he protested, weakly.

“Tell that to the cave system on your face,” Lulu said, and Jackie sniggered.

“Sorry,” she said, when Matthew glared at her. “I can’t help it. This kid talks serious smack. Alright, you little monster,” she added to Lulu. “Let’s get you some dinner before we see the hangry version of this.”

Lulu lay back down on the floor.

“Or what, you’ll yell at me?”

“No, I’ll leave you here and go back to my apartment.”

Matthew couldn’t tell if Jackie was bluffing. Maybe babysitting had been a bad idea. Genuine fear was creeping into Lulu’s eyes, though she was trying not to show it.

“You can’t do that,” she said, uncertainly. “I’m not allowed to be left alone.”

Jackie shrugged.

“Kid, the only consequences of me leaving you alone would be not having to babysit again, oh no.” She crouched down in front of Lulu to meet her at eye level. “So how far do you wanna go?”

Lulu suddenly looked awed. Most babysitters tried to be sweet, which resulted in her being treated like a toddler, but Jackie wasn’t taking any prisoners.

“OK…what’s for dinner?”

Lulu’s parents probably would have preferred if she ate something nutritious, with plenty of vegetables, but when Lulu requested mac and cheese, Matthew decided it was not a battle worth fighting and found a box of it in the cupboard. Meanwhile, Jackie entertained Lulu with talk of med school, which Lulu found endlessly fascinating. She seemed to have decided that Jackie was the coolest grown-up she knew.

“So you’ve seen a dead person?” she gasped.

“Hundreds. We used the cut them open for surgical rotation at med school.”

“Did you see their organs?”

“Yeah, that’s what surgery is. I once saw a liver that had fully rotted inside someone. It was all slimy and disgusting.”

Matthew chuckled to himself as he turned off the stove, then he had a bright idea and searched the cupboards for food colouring. He found a bottle of red with the baking supplies and added a few drops into the pan before separating the mac and cheese into three bowls.

“Come and get your hot brains!” he called. Lulu raced over to stare at the goopy pink cheese.

“I hope you picked a smart cadaver,” Jackie grinned. “I won’t be eating moron brains.”

“Don’t worry, I checked the SAT records. This cadaver’s a bona fide genius,” Matthew said, as they took their bowls over to the table.

Lulu wolfed down her mac and cheese, as the doctors continued to regale her with med school stories, and within an hour she was showered and tucked up in bed, fast asleep. Matthew and Jackie flopped onto the couch with well-deserved coffees.

“You sure you should be drinking that, Cave System?” Jackie teased, but her smile faded when Matthew didn’t react. “I’m serious, Matthew, you need to relax a bit. When was the last time you got laid?”

Matthew spluttered.

“I am most certainly not going to answer that right now!” he hissed.

“Don’t worry, Lulu’s asleep.” Jackie nudged him with her leg. “C’mon, if a nine-year-old can tell you’re not sleeping, the situation’s not great. Have you thought about just hooking up? Bryce might be up for it—”

“I’m shutting down this conversation.”

Matthew picked up a book and tried to look dignified, which would have been much easier if he weren’t reading something called ‘The Diaries of the Rainbow Princesses’.

When Lulu’s parents came home another hour later, they were absolutely thrilled with how the evening had gone. Lulu’s father pressed $500 into Jackie’s hand.

“Please, this is way too much—”

“Consider it a down payment! It’s been so long since we’ve been able to go out! Please say we can call you again?”

“Sure. I mean, I can’t guarantee what my shifts will be like, but I’m sure we can sort something out. Lulu’s actually a pretty cool kid.”

Jackie tried to give Matthew half the money on the way back downstairs, but he refused. Jackie had charmed Lulu without his help. He just wanted her to promise that she would let him know if she ever got stuck for money again.

****

The next day didn’t start so promising, with Matthew’s pitch to reach out to wealthy patients immediately getting shut down. Ethan’s refusal was on moral grounds: the team was never about money, it was always the person in need, and he wouldn’t let them stray from that philosophy. This was then followed by pages of negative test results, which meant Evelyn would unfortunately miss her first exhibition after all.

“’The Way I Saw The World’,” she explained to them. “After so many years, people are finally paying attention. And I won’t be there to see it.”

Ethan looked thoughtful as they filed out the room.

“’The Way I Saw The World’…” he mused. “I wonder if that might actually tell us something…is anyone available tonight?”

Matthew had no plans so volunteered to go to the art gallery, and Baz said he would join him. Matthew was very impressed at Baz’s vintage mini, which was apparently named ‘Helen’ as they drove to a small art gallery in the North End. The room was full of suited waiters offering cheese and wine, art connoisseurs peering intently at various canvases, and members of the public milled around, discussing the paintings they liked. Evelyn would be thrilled to hear she had a full house.

“Good turnout,” Baz said, biting a cube of cheese off a stick. “I have to admit I don’t know much about art, though my ex-girlfriend once dabbled in sculptures.”

“What kind?”

“Pottery. She got a thing about making and painting vases to sell. And she was pretty good. I’ve still got one in my apartment.”

“How long were you together?”

“Not long, to be fair. It was during our residency that we started dating, but the relationship ran it’s course. You know how it is.” Baz shrugged cheerfully. “We’re still friends though. A bunch of us met up last summer for a reunion.”

“Too bad there aren’t any sculptures here,” Matthew said, looking at a landscape of a farm. It featured a rolling hill teeming with crops, surveyed by a barn. Evelyn’s use of colours and shadows suggested she had painted at sunrise. Matthew suddenly wanted to have another go at drawing natural landscapes.

“I miss drawing,” he said to Baz. “It was such a good stress relief.”

“Was?”

“I haven’t found the time. And I’m kind of lacking inspiration these days. Cityscape gets a bit repetitive after a while.”

“Maybe you could take a weekend vacation.”

The next painting was a portrait of a fisherman; according to the placard next it, Evelyn liked to paint people of notable professions.

“We’d make a great addition to her series, don’t you think?” Baz said. He stood next to the canvas and pulled a face like the fisherman. Matthew rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

“You wouldn’t be able to keep serious for long enough. This guy seems to have a lot of frown lines.”

“He looks a bit like my old science teacher, who had a secret soft side. I bet this guy’s not so bad.”

Matthew always liked how people could interpret art in different ways, and how it had always been that way and would continue to be so.

“Were you a class clown at all, Baz?”

“No, I was a good boy! Mostly. Maybe some teachers thought I was annoying but I’d call it passionate about a subject.”

“And nothing has changed.”

“I’m pleased to hear that!”

“Where did you study?”

“I studied at Dartmouth for undergrad and postgrad, then did my residency at New York Presbyterian. Stayed there until I transferred around two years ago.”

Matthew was starting to relax and properly enjoy the gallery now. He was losing himself in Evelyn’s world, and nearly forgot he was supposed to be there for work.

And then his eyes landed on a particular painting that featured a flowing river in the foreground and rows of houses in the background. A sidewalk along the river was lit up with streetlights. And right under the streetlight was the silhouette of a dancing couple.

Sharp pain closed Matthew’s throat. His eyes burned with memories of Rafael’s grandmother’s cosy living room, a plate of brigadeiros, Rafael’s happy smile as Matthew charmed his grandmother. How he had laughed when he taught Matthew to Samba dance in the middle of the street.

Something’s on your mind, I can tell. What is it?

Matthew stormed away from the painting to the other end of the gallery. His chest ached, a bruise as fresh as the day it was punched when Rafael broke up with him. It felt like a ridiculous joke when he thought about how happy he had been this time last year. Unlike Baz, who had laid his romance to rest and continued as friends, here he was in as much pain as he’d been in three months ago.

In his desperate search for distraction, he found a painting of a lighthouse…but he stared more seriously when he realised something was missing from it.

“Are you alright? You disappeared so quickly, I thought you might be ill…what are you looking at?” Baz had found him.

“I’ve seen that lighthouse before somewhere and I’m sure something’s missing…oh!” Matthew remembered. “There were bits of old shipwreck in that bottom left corner. I remember, I saw the lighthouse last year and couldn’t figure out if the lighthouse was bad at its job or if it was why they built the thing.”

“Huh. What do you know…”

Matthew got his phone out of his pocket and started looking up the landscapes referenced in Evelyn’s paintings. The first thing that came up was the farm: a stable was missing in the same corner as the wreck.

The two of them took their time, going through the gallery and comparing the missing landscape details. The blind spot seemed to get slightly bigger on the more recent ones.

“It’s a scotoma,” Matthew finally said, as if admitting a painful truth. “A blind spot.”

“Sudden vision loss wasn’t sudden at all,” Baz said, equally pained. “It must have come on so gradually that her mind filled in the blanks. I wonder what caused…ah. She told us. Remember she said she got leg cramps from standing all day?”

Matthew thought back on the many, many medications he had learned.

“Quinine,” he said. “Quinine toxicity causing a scotoma, leading to total loss of vision.”

“It stopped being recommended about ten years ago,” Baz said. “But I suppose old habits die hard. And if she’d already been taking it for a long time, she probably had no reason to believe she should stop.”

Matthew looked sadly at a small painting that featured a blue butterfly on a yellow sunflower.

“It’s not reversible,” he said softly.

“It’s not.”

Baz laid a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it provided just a tiny bit of comfort.

****

It broke Matthew’s heart when Evelyn heard the news. She put on a brave face and reassured them that she was prepared for this possibility, but tears had pooled in her unseeing eyes and Matthew heard her crying when they left the room.

He checked in on her at the end of his shift. She was hooked up to a hemoperfusion machine, their last hope of regaining any kind of sight.

“I’m so sorry we couldn’t do anything more for you,” he said.

“Oh, stop.” Evelyn shook her head. “I know a thing or two about failure, and you only fail when you quit. You and your team never quit.”

She held out a hand. Matthew took it.

“Dr Valentine, I know you said you don’t have much time to draw anymore, but please promise me you’ll never quit.”

“I promise,” Matthew said, squeezing her hand. “I went to your exhibition,” he added.

“Oh really? Dare I ask how it went?”

“Evelyn…people loved how you saw the world.”

Evelyn’s mouth opened and closed in surprise. Then, with happy tears this time, she smiled. “I…I’m so pleased.”

Matthew patted Evelyn’s hand as she pulled herself under control and cleared her throat.

“I actually have a present for you. My daughter – she’s been helping me – said it’s on the chair by the window.”

The chair had been placed with its back to the doorway, and when Matthew turned it back around, he found a small canvas filled with blossoming colours of beautiful deep reds and oranges, sweet yellows, calming blues, and shining flecks of gold.

“I said I owed you a portrait,” Evelyn said with a smile. “It’s how you’ve appeared to me. How your spirit appears to me. My daughter’s very patient, she picked out the colours.”

“Oh, Evelyn…it’s beautiful.” Matthew wiped his eyes.

“People always told me I was stubborn, and stubborn people find a way. Even if they’re blind as a bat.”

Matthew hugged his portrait to his chest.

“It’s like you said. You’ll get by one way or another. There’s more than one way to see.”

For once, Matthew had a smile on his face all the way home. He went straight into his room and rested the painting safely against the wall, making a note to buy a hook the first chance he got. He felt he should dig out his sketch book and find something to draw, but Aurora called him into the living room for a group meeting.

“It’s not a chore chart is it?” Elijah groaned as he rolled into the living room.

“No. But that’s a good idea,” Aurora said. Elijah’s face paled.

Aurora was trying to play it cool, but she could barely contain her smile and Matthew realised what she wanted to talk about.

“I’ve been offered the chance to transfer my residency to Mass Kenmore…and I’ve accepted.”

“Oh my god…” Sienna breathed.

“Is…is this a prank?” Elijah asked, doubtfully.

“You called that guy from the diner!” Matthew said.

“Who?”

Aurora filled the group in on the details of her quick diagnosis that day and they looked on, impressed.

“Badass!” Elijah complimented. Aurora laughed.

“Have you told your aunt yet?”

“No, I’m trying to work out how,” Aurora said. “She’s just gonna have to deal with it. Oh, and I’m not planning to move out in case you were wondering,” she added, to Sienna’s relief.

“Well, you do you,” Jackie said. “But, why Kenmore?”

“Because I need to be somewhere where I won’t just be ‘Harper Emery’s niece. Dr Carrick didn’t know who I was when he gave me his card. It’s time for me to carve a new path.”

Although it was a little sad that they wouldn’t be working together anymore, none of them could fault her for wanting a fresh start and proudly wished her luck in her new role.

Aurora’s words played on Matthew’s mind all evening, and he decided to carve his own path before he went to bed. He opened up Gwyneth Monroe’s channel and sent her a message explaining who he was, the goal of the diagnostics team and invited her to come down to Boston for a consultation.

A/N: Baz deserved more <3 Tags: @sazanes @rafasgirl23415 @ceruleansnake0

[m5ria]

Chapter 9: The Ring

The next morning, I wake up and soon start to plan the rest of the day.

I realize I missed dinner yesterday and I hope there won’t be any questions asked. I barely had time to admire my new room before falling on the bed and asleep. 

Now, I have the time to marvel at the amazing landscape my window gives. My room is perhaps the one under the Hazbin Hotel sign, giving me a full sight of Pentagram City. Somewhere far away from here, I spot my blue forest. It looks just like Angel implied: empty, alone, isolated. 

However, that’s what I look for anywhere.

My room is bigger than the one I had before. The bed can sleep at least three people. The closet is rather a room by itself in which my two-three outfits hang there sadly. The bathroom has a long bath, almost like a jacuzzi. I decide to test it. I still have to get rid of whatever smell of blood that’s still impregnated in my skin.

After this, I dress like yesterday and grab my hellphone. Today, I need to return to my burnt house, gather the only things that survived, including my hidden bow and arrows, and dig up some of my treasures in the forest. I can’t keep on living with only two choices of clothes and a hellphone.

I climb down the long stairs as a means of warming up. I realize that yesterday would have been kind of hard to climb them up, being so exhausted, but today I jump two of them at a time. 

In the welcoming area, I spy if there’s anyone I should be polite to, but the only one that seems to be present at the moment is the Husk bartender. I think I can escape without any words.

Wandering the streets of Hell, I find myself quite relaxed. It can be beautiful to stroll around the City if there’s no disturbance. And, as far as I can tell, no one today is looking for trouble with me.

One hour later, I reach my familiar streets. I expected them to feel somewhat welcoming, being familiar and all. However, it’s the exact opposite. I get a vibe of hauntedness as if in the one day I was gone, the streets lost some light.

I decide against going first to my house and just enter the blue woods. Based on a puzzle I developed some months ago, I soon reach a normal-looking tree. I start digging with my claws, wondering if I should have gotten a shovel. Or if I should have improvised one.

Under the roots of the tree, my claws hit the box I buried five months ago, right before Extermination Day. I grab it and open it. Some cash lies in it, sufficient for another month, perhaps two, if I am thorough. The free rent is the best thing the Princess could have offered me. Maybe there are good demons down here after all.

I decide on leaving the other treasures, hoping I would quickly earn some money hunting.

Which leaves me with the second reason why I came here: my burnt house.

I soon face the mountain of ash. It’s darker than it was yesterday, which makes me quite suspicious. Am I suffering some consequences from the shadow world, or am I imagining things?

The bow and arrows wait for me patiently under some dirt. My most precious things. I am glad I grabbed them. Then, I start looking through the ash to find anything solid. Other than some hunting knives and my moon ring, I don’t find anything else.

I look at my moon ring, as it is my only gem. It’s a reminder of the moonstone necklace I used to wear when I was alive. The one I lost forever, it seems.

I used to wear the ring when I first got it, but it is quite irritating while hunting. I gave up on it, keeping it more as a memory. But now, when I see it sparkling on my finger, I realize that it’s as special as the moonstone necklace. It survived that wicked fire. I should cherish it.

The crescent moon is the only thing that shines in this darkness. It brings me some lifetime memories of me hunting in the moonlight, of me and... 

Nevermind.

The memory of him only brings me hatred. The boy I used to love back when I was a stupid teenager. The boy that played me.

My hand clutches and fury blinds me. I look around and see that everything is darker. I’m sure it’s not my imagination now. 

“Mind your business, Alastor!”

The shadows twitch for a second, but other than that, there’s no confirmation of my suspicions. I grab my stuff and leave the mountain of ash.

I feel Alastor. There's no way I can explain it, but from the moment the first black streak snaked its way toward me, I realized that there is a way of identifying each demon. Anyone leaves a trail behind them. Even me.

I curse myself for going so fast to my burnt house. Whether it’s truly Alastor or someone else, they know about it now. If they followed me in the woods as well, they would only know about one tree, luckily.

Regardless, if Alastor indeed spied on me today, he might guess the true reason why I came to the hotel. He can tell Charlie. Charlie can kick me out.

So what?

It’s not like I have to live at the hotel. I can manage just fine anywhere I go. After all, how else have I survived in Hell this year? So I lose an opportunity. I won’t die. I’ll survive, whatever it means.

My fury still sticks to me, however hard I try to calm myself. I concede I have to channel it to something remotely useful. And I have my bow and arrows.

Great! I might return to the hotel not empty-handed!

I dive into the blue woods. I walk silently, feeling unusually watched at all times. These trees were so familiar to me only two days ago. Now, I feel like I’m Snow White running from the hunter.

But I am the hunter...

My supernatural smell drove me all this time. I’ve soon picked a strong sweet-sour scent and, when I follow it silently, I come across a purple deer. I smile triumphantly. They are so rare to glimpse in these woods... And it's rarer to put them down. They are fast and witty. They can hear you when you’re half a mile away. 

Somehow, it didn’t hear me.

I stand fifty feet away from it, smoothly grabbing my bow and arrow. I tense the bowstring and take my time to focus. Only when the time is right, do I release the arrow.

The deer had time only to turn its head to the furious arrow before it hits the neck. I grin diabolically as I hear the thump. I wait for a sign, anything that would tell me he watched it too. 

There’s only silence.

He’s good at playing. I give him that.

But so am I.

☽

It’s evening when I return to the hotel. I spent lots of time in the woods and I managed to kill another two rabbits and one squirrel. I sold them quite well and quickly, but I kept the deer. I know I could have gotten so much money on it, but I wanted to bring it to the hotel. As a means of saying thank you and fuck off. 

Nevertheless, it was hard to drag it through the entire City. The deer was quite heavy and I still had my bow, arrows, daggers, and money to carry too. When I finally step through the hotel’s doorway, I let the animal slide from my shoulders. The thump of its body echoes through the corridor and, in response, a frightened scream reflects through the walls.

I finally peek at Charlie and Vaggie on the couch, together... in an embrace. I start feeling extremely awkward. But then I think What the hell? It’s the freakin’ reception! Where was I supposed to go in??

“What the fuck is that?” Vaggie yells at me.

“Uhm, a deer?” I answer clumsily. “Charlie said that I could hunt, and I wanted to bring this to you for dinner.”

“That’s...” Charlie stands up, hesitating, “really nice of you, Diana!” 

“No worries.”

“Let me help you with that!”

With a snap of her hands, the deer disappears, and so is its blood on the carpets. I feel a twinge of envy, watching her simply use this power. It looks like only she and Alastor can do it. Wait, no! Angel can summon a sniper from his belly or something. Is it the same? 

“Where did it appear?” I ask her.

“In the kitchen,” she smiles reassuringly.

“And about that,” Vaggie cuts in. “Could you please leave your animals in the kitchen from now on? We don’t want any... Jump scares.”

“Of course,” I agree with her. “Only if... Someone would tell me where the kitchen is.”

“Oh, my Satan, sorry!” Charlie jumps from the couch and runs to me, quite flustered. “I forgot to give you a tour of the hotel yesterday!”

“Not a problem!” I try to soothe her. 

“Come this way!” she urges me energetically.

I follow her throughout the corridor. Vaggie seems torn between staying comfortable on the couch and following us too. She soon decides on the latter one, following us with her only eye narrowed... at me.

Charlie guides me to a door that is symmetrical to the one leading to the staircase. When we go inside, there’s a big dining room with a long table. There are eight chairs in total. I suppose there are a total of eight residents here. Not too bad.

Charlie seems to think the same because she asks me: “Why didn’t you join us for dinner yesterday?”

“I was... Very tired from all the shopping,” I half-lie. “I immediately fell asleep.”

“Did you manage to find your room?” she asks worriedly. “I forgot to tell you, you have to...”

“Listen to the key, I know,” I smile. “I love your idea. With the seven virtues. Quite authentic.”

She beams with pleasure. I look at Vaggie and she is smiling as well. I guess she’s so happy her girlfriend is happy, she forgot to be weary of me. 

“Thank you, Diana! No one’s said that so far.”

“Well, not everyone can appreciate original ideas. Especially down here.”

“You must join us for dinner today!” she invites me.

I am flustered. I tried to avoid this. To no use, apparently. 

The truth is that I haven’t dined with anyone since... I was seventeen years old. It’s one of the most crucial moments of the day. The time when I relish eating what I hunted and ponder. A time when I focus on listening to Tv news or the radio or reading newspapers, searching for familiar names that still haunt me. Dead or alive.

I knew this was coming, the moment Angel told me about dinners. I still can’t figure out how I can avoid it. It’s not like I can pretend to fall asleep at seven each day. 

“Uhm... I wouldn’t want to... Disturb anyone...” I foolishly try.

“Nonsense!” she exclaims. “You’re not disturbing anyone. Alas, I think you’ll be more well-behaved than these crows!”

“Babe!” Vaggie cries out offended.

Charlie turns to Vaggie and tells her: “Isn’t it true, tho? Every dinner, you take part in another fight!”

“With reasons!” Vaggie defends herself.

“With everyone!” Charlie points out.

“Not everyone!” Vaggie interlocks her hand with Charlie’s. This display of affection makes me uncomfortable. I get why Angel dreads dinners.

“That’s because I don’t want to,” Charlie says sweetly, closing her fingers around Vaggie’s.

I can’t look at them anymore. I look at the far-away corner of the dining room, which I presume is the entrance to the kitchen. I start walking towards it.

“Yes,” Charlie catches up to me, “that’s the kitchen. And there’s an entrance to the kitchen from outside.”

She opens the door for me and I get to see a big kitchen, too big for the number of residents here. It has everything you need to cook whatever you desire. Not that I am too experienced in cooking.

Charlie gestures to the outside door and I nod. 

“Do you have a chef?” I ask her.

“Not really,” she admits. “We take turns. Almost each of us loves cooking, so each day someone bakes a different cuisine. For instance, Alastor cooks lots of kinds of meat, while Angel likes Italian food, and Vaggie Hispanic dishes.”

“Are you Spanish?” I ask Vaggie curiously.

“No, I was Salvadoran,” she reluctantly says.

“Oh.”

“And you’re from Britain,” she guesses

“You’ve got that from my accent,” I affirm.

She nods.

Charlie probably felt left out, because she suddenly says: “Oh, how I wish I was from Earth too! It’s quite entertaining to hear all the stories from there! All the inventions, the wars, the making of new countries and all!”

“Don’t be too excited, Charlie,” I say. “Earth it’s a lot like Hell, but bluer. Maybe that’s why it gets so overpopulated here.”

Charlie visibly deflates.

“That’s why I started this project in the first place,” she states. “I don’t think it’s fair for sinners to vanish forever! Their souls are lost forever!”

“That’s how it’s on Earth too if you’re not famous for something,” I shrug. “You disappear from history.”

“I hardly think that’s ok,” she vigorously fends her argument.

“I suppose,” I give up. There’s no way I’m arguing with the Princess of Hell on something I barely have an opinion on. I walk to my deer on the counter and look at its dead eyes. Why are there animals in Hell? Are they human souls that weren’t bad enough to be given a more demonic body? Or is it Lucifer’s gift for a resemblance of living life?

“Why do you hunt?” Charlie comes behind me. It’s meant as a curiosity question, but it's not welcomed. I control myself from stiffening and tell her plainly: “It’s what I was good at while living.”

“You know you don’t have to,” she puts a hand on my shoulder. My whole body wants to jerk from her touch, but I stay still. Until I know more about her, about myself, I can’t reveal too much.

“I do it because I like it,” I underline. My voice is blunt, and no emotion is disclosed. She relievingly takes her hand back. I feel the air charged with doubt. I ignore it. 

Then, the Princess of Hell says: “In that case, thank you! We’ll have a wonderful dinner indeed!”

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

[aneenasevla]

Devil's Food - Chapter 5

MasterList /Ayami’s Profile/Previous

Chapter 5 - Coward Mouse

The day itself had arrived. Hollis, who was apparently the acting leader there, spoke to her:

“We’ll leave the place isolated, so you can talk to him without problems.”

“Okay,” she sighed, walking into the meeting room, watching. At the time it was dismantled, the place now looked like just a large living room a few meters square with a small kotatsu-like table in the center, without the blanket underneath, and since it was summer, there was no need for a heater or brazier. A few bookcases and other decorations filled the spaces, a potted plant in one corner, and that was all.

“If you need anything, you can call us too” Hollis hands a beep to Ayami “just press that button.”

“I don't know if it's necessary, but thanks” she smiles a little, with a little bow “see you later” and she closes the door. She turns and sighs, looking at the scene with a little more zeal. There was a door on the other side where she supposed he would appear, so she decided to look for a book and distract herself while she waited. She saw several titles, but stopped when she found something that interested her. A kind of detective novel, a la sherlock. She took the book and sat down at the table, opening it and starting to read.

The story was interesting, so it wasn't a problem to wait. She was talking about several serial killer crime cases and how the detective had noticed the tiniest detail about a watch. The problem was that she read too fast, and the book was finished before it even arrived.

She looked at the time. She's been waiting there for two hours... could it be that Mr.Raian had encountered a setback? Maybe he was also so uninterested that she didn't bother showing up, at least according to his family. Of course, it's not like she's a princess or a world leader, to matter to him. She was, in more archaic terms, the daughter of a greedy merchant who tried to play with demons and paid with her daughter's life. At the very least she was perhaps a creature to be pitied, for someone said to be the "strongest of the clan". It was understandable even. Maybe, if she thought about it rationally, it was more a matter of level.

What a shame. A guy described as having such arrogance could only judge someone like that on looks and status, not what she could offer useful. A fool in that category would only have to lose.

She looked at the weather, and a light rain was falling outside.

Thunder in the distance. It would be the harbinger of a summer storm.

Ayami got up and stretched her legs, to go see the landscape through a crack in the sliding door. With the exception of the streetlights outside, no one was on the streets, and it was mostly silent. She sighed.

“I understand” Ayami said, finally going back inside “I think he doesn't want to show up…”

"Alright...", she thought, "I have other books on the shelf."

…

She stroked a lock of her long dark brown hair away from her eyes, eyes big and round and dark brown too, like a gazelle's. Her face was round, matching the rest of her body, which was made up of mostly curves, covered by a long flowy skirt and dress shirt. Her movements were simple, smooth, cautious, almost calculated even. As if they wanted to make the least but most efficient effort for something. She'd gone to the bookshelf and returned a book she'd just read, then running the short fingers of her small hand to look for and grab another two. Detective literature, eh? 

Interesting.

She sat down at the table and went back to her reading, waiting patiently and docilely for someone who would probably never come…

Pathetic. 

Fat, innocent, nerdy and pathetic. Perfect.

He heard a giggle coming from her. She flipped the pages and shook her head absently, a smile on her lips. So she was having fun, even in that situation.

Interesting.

He approached, his steps light, naturally taking care not to show any sign of shadow, walking in her blind spot. He made a very subtle signal to alert her, behind her, and no reaction came from her.

He grimaced. Too inattentive. If she was a victim, he would have killed her on at least five occasions. Or ten, if he had ever acted since he arrived. And all that time, she didn't even beep to speak with Hollis, was she really feeling safe?

Fat, innocent, nerdy, pathetic and now stupid. It was almost hilarious.

But this waiting game was already starting to get boring, so he circled the table and sat across from her, as silently as possible, resting a hand on his chin and elbow on the table, watching her. She finally seemed to notice his presence.

Hallelujah, she wasn't blind, at least.

 “Oh, so you showed up.” She immediately closes the book, placing a bookmark. Her voice was soft and delicate, contrasting with her slightly…heavy appearance. “Good Evening”

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. And she seemed to be watching him. Very well, she may watch, because of course she had to know who her future tormentor looked like.

…

As he didn't answer, Ayami took the opportunity to observe him more. He was staring at her steadily, unblinking. The silver eyes like the other Kure, dark sclera but a neon blue glow near the pupils, framed by a chin as if sculpted by a self-taught artist - well done at least, but there was still a lot to learn - and separated by a straight nose. His hair was blond, short, cropped but half-grown, he had a scar on one side of his forehead, which made a prominent gap, almost like a triangle…or a horn.

This creature was definitely made for combat - broad shoulders and chest, the neck looking like it was made of steel cables, she could draw every single one of them there. And the rest below was hidden by clothing, but she knew there wasn't an underdeveloped muscle there. She stopped looking, more than that wouldn't be appropriate.

“You must be Kure Raian…” she turned her head a little to the side “I didn't know you were blonde. It's natural?”

He continued to stare, unblinking, saying nothing. Oh, either he was the type who didn't talk, or he was playing the silent one. Fine then. She could play that game.

“What an awkward situation, isn't it?” She supports her hands in her lap, maintaining the posture “I imagine so. I was told you weren't interested in it, and that's fine with me. I would hate to force you into such a serious thing.”

She let the sentence sink in, and continued after a few moments, "If you don't want that, I totally understand, Mr. Raian” and looked him in the eyes. Those eyes… by this point in her stay in the village, she was used to them, coming from his relatives, but…

Those eyes… they were icy, chilling. He was intimidating and knew it. She had to really make an effort to keep them in focus.

Finally he seemed to move after a few minutes. Thank God, she couldn't bear to face him like that anymore. He crossed his arms on the table. Interestingly, he closed his guard, but was still facing her bent over, intimidating but attentive. She had said something that interested him or that was consistent with his interests.

Now it was just a case of figuring out what.

According to the information she had, he was arrogant, so she tried “I mean, you must have your stuff, your life, your job, you don't have time to think about it... yet.”

He didn't change his expression, a positive sign. Next topic.

“Or at least, you didn’t want someone like me…”

Still staring at her.

“Or maybe… it's the part that they put you in this situ-?”

"I preferred when you were quiet," he finally spoke, his voice was soft, but husky. She blinked in surprise, but then smiled faintly.

“Good, you can speak… So were you bored? It would be less boring if you had answered earlier.”

He continued to stare, but this time he straightened his posture, still with his arms crossed, and closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. Hallelujah, a blink!

“Then. Are you interested in this contract or not, Mr. Kure?” she joins her fingers, elbows on the table. “If not, then I don't think you want to waste any more time here, do you?”

“You're weird” he finally says, speaking slowly “you came here on your own, even with good will, even made friends with the village… but, just in the moment you face me, you want to give up?” a hint of a smile forms on his face “what kind of cowardly rat are you?”

Oh, there he was. The man they so often described to her.

They weren't exaggerating. Arrogant, rude and calculating, like a devil...

Lucky for her, the law firm where she worked was full of them.

“As far as I know, the only one who was throwing a tantrum, shaking at the base, was you.” She raises an eyebrow. Probably he had done it, it was stamped on his forehead “I came on my own because I knew it could go very wrong, and the more I heard about you, the more I was sure of it. So I suggested ending it, because it makes your life easier, and mine in the process.”

He opened his eyes wider, the pupils seemed to constrict. Anger contained. Bingo.

“So, Mr. Kure Raian” she insisted on saying his full name “what will it be? The cowardly rat, or the spoiled brat?”

She didn't have time to react, one second she was sitting in front of him, the next, his hand was on her neck, and her back had collided with the floor, knocking the air out of her lungs, making her gasp to keep from losing consciousness. She felt pain in the back of her head, but thanks to the padded tatami floor, not much. She opened her eyes, and saw him kneeling over her, his free hand clenched into a fist, his silver eyes staring at her blankly. Her hands went to his neck, trying in vain to get him out of there. He wasn't squeezing too hard, so she could breathe, but God, she sure as hell was pinned to the ground. She gasped, adrenaline rushing up her spine, chilling her. She heard a low growl, almost like a beast.

“You really have no idea, do you?” he says, his voice had become lower in the midst of hoarseness “You don't have the slightest idea what I can do, do you, you bitch? Did you know I could have killed you since I arrived? A neck like that, easily broken by my hand? Do you know who you're messing with?!”

She looked back at him. Calm down, he can't kill her… can he? Had this all been a plan to find a pretext to kill her? Would they be able to deceive her like that? Had all the effort not to be a bad impression had been in vain, and everyone knew?

"Wow, you're a cutie, if Raian doesn't want you, I do!"

Fusui's voice echoed in her mind. And that discrepancy with the intrusive thoughts was enough for her to regain her strength. She took a deep breath, as best she could because of his grip, and she dropped her hands, leaving them limp at her sides.

“Well… I know” she says, in the calmest voice she could manage “but… what credit do you have killing me? What will you gain from this, if not disappointment from everyone else in the clan? Just personal satisfaction. If that's enough, go ahead. Twist your hand, finish me off.”

She knew he could do this. She knew he would be delighted to do so, to hear the sound of her bones creaking and her eyes lose their life and color.

But he just stared at her, his free hand in a fist even itching, opening and closing. Then he frowned, and his brows practically buried between his eyes as he gritted his teeth, trembling, and let out a growl, opened his mouth, and the growl turned into a snarl, squeezing her neck one last time, before let go and get up for good, getting off her. He strode out of the room, slamming the sliding door shut, the paper fibers trembling.

Ayami coughed, breathing as if she had emerged from a deep dive, clutching the tatami floor as if it were a lifesaver. She was shaking badly, the adrenaline rush slowly fading, making her feel weak.

God in heaven, that was very, veeeery close.

He really, definitely wasn't called the Devil for nothing.

Next Chapter Here

[thran-duils]

Lost In Your Current (P.4)

Title: Lost In Your Current (Part Four) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. After the snap, the team realizes that certain males were given Alpha status and certain females were assigned as Omegas, all across the galaxy, as a way to control procreation. Only Omega can give birth now. Both are marked and their DNA is tied through their marks. Tony lost Pepper and fell into depression after being rescued by Carol. Even the information that he could have happiness again could not pull him out. Until the loneliness and his new Alpha gene got to be too much. When Steve contacts him that his Omega had been found, Tony cannot resist to collect her. Words: 3,057 Warnings (for the whole fic): Dub-con, a/b/o elements, smut, forced mating, 18+ as always Warnings for this chapter: Controlling behavior

Part Three || Part Five || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You ventured out of the closet timidly as the smell of fresh food being cooked downstairs hit your nostrils. Your stomach was rumbling loudly, and you grabbed the throw blanket off the end of the guest bed to wrap yourself up in. You were still bare and even though there was slim chance anyone would be looking through the window, you still felt better with it on.

Sitting down at the table, you watched Tony work. He had sent a glance your way when you padded in, the blanket dragging along the ground as you walked.

It was quiet as he worked, and you sat patiently.

When he put the plate in front of you, your mouth practically watered. Grabbing the fork, you thanked him as you were already bringing a forkful up to your mouth. He took his plate and sat next to you. You slowed down, embarrassed about how much food you had already put away before he even had sat down.

“I’ll get you set up on the streaming accounts so you can watch things,” he started to say. “And if you tell me what books you want, I can have them ordered and delivered here.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, in between bites. You were just going to let him talk; you did not want to ask any questions just yet. You were still feeling him out; you had only been around him for a handful of days before you had fallen into your heat. There was still much to know about his personality, what was expected of you.

He saw you were almost finished, and he picked up his pace to finish his plate with you. As soon as the two of you were finished, he picked up the plates. In the process, his hand brushed over yours and your hair stood on end. There was a fleeting smirk from him – he had done it on purpose, testing you. He was scenting you again and seeing how you would react and you just stared at him, still, waiting to see if he was going to do it again. He gestured for you to give him the fork and you had barely noticed you were still holding it. You held it out and his fingers brushed yours again and you bit at your cheeks.

Tony was proving to also be testing the boundaries with you.

Dropping the plates in the sink, he turned back to you, “You need to shower. So do I. Come.”

You got up obediently, holding the blanket still tight around you. You followed him upstairs into the master bathroom and your eyes widened at the large tub. There was a waterfall shower in the corner, complete with what looked like jets for a massage, and a detachable shower head too.

Tony called out as he went to one of the tall cabinets, “FRIDAY, run the jacuzzi.”

The water in the tub began running, startling you. What the hell was FRIDAY? You should not be surprised about the technology in this cabin though, it was Tony’s after all.

Tony came back with body gel, shampoo, and conditioner, a brand you did not recognize. He placed them besides the tub as you asked, “Who’s FRIDAY?”

“The AI system that runs the house,” he answered. “I need to program her to respond to simple commands from you. Lights on, lights off, run the shower, you know, simple.”

His hands were on you as you stood staring at the bath filling up. He pulled the blanket from you, tossing it onto the floor a bit away. With you bare again, his hands fell to your sides, and your breath quickened. His fingers were gentle as they traced over your skin, dipping as your body curved. His bare chest pressed against your back, and you barely held back a soft moan. His scent was clouding you and you were acutely aware you were slipping under its influence. You tried to move away as it became too much but he stopped you firmly.

“Omega, I told you that you need to shower.”

“T-that’s a bath,” you pointed out weakly.

“That it is. Fine, you need to bathe. Is that better, love?”

“But—”

“Quiet, Omega,” Tony cut in impatiently and you felt compelled to follow his order, despite the anxiousness he was igniting with all his touching. He meant to bathe with you. And you were still coming down from your heat. He could stoke the fire again and maybe that is what he wanted to do. Alphas you had heard were notorious for squeezing as much out of an Omega during their heats. “Get into the tub. Leave me room.”

Sinking into the water, you held yourself close as the water turned off, the tub full. Tony pulled his boxers off and followed you in, settling down behind you.

He was gentle, using his hands to rub away at your shoulders and down your chest. You felt calmed with him washing away the remnants of the last few days away from you. Alpha was taking care of you like he should. And you could not deny a good scalp massage was sorely needed, further relaxing you.

Tony pulled you in between his legs and you leaned back against his chest. His fingers trailed down your stomach and to the apex of your sex. Relaxation dissolving in a moment, you clenched tight, and he sensed your tension. He only slipped a single finger in between your folds instead of the two that had been sliding down. You mewled and he kissed softly at your ear. The one finger circling your clit.

“Knees up, precious,” he ordered. You did as he asked, and he added a second finger, delving deeper.

Your pussy was sensitive after the last few days, but his touch set you alight, and you shuddered against his touch. Tony hummed in approval, caressing at your nub. You began rocking your hips, trying to increase the contact. Tony tsked you, nipping at your ear and you let out a disappointed whine. He was working you back up and you were just focused on getting more. You wanted him inside you.

“There are gonna be rules and you just need to follow them. You get to stay here. With me. Safe. Loved.” His free hand came up to touch your stomach. “Hopefully become round sooner rather than later…”

“Alpha…” the thought of that sending you even further down the spiral.

His fingers entered you and he kissed at your cheek, vowing in a whisper, “I’ll keep you safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

<><><>

The front porch creaked, and you thumbed the page of your book, calm, thinking it was Tony coming back inside. But then there were a second pair of footsteps and hushed tones. You froze. There was a loud knock on the front door, and you sat up in alarm. Your book dropped to the floor as you got up quickly. Who was here? No one had come here in the weeks you had been here. And Tony had not told you anyone was coming. The hair on your arms was on end at potential danger.

Thankfully, the blinds were drawn on the living room window. You could not go up the stairs though because that was by the front door and the person – whoever they were – would most certainly see you since the door was open, letting the fresh air come through the screen. Tony was outside getting the boat prepped. He was going to take you out on the lake with him while he fished.

Another loud knock came, and you hesitated. The cabin was out in the middle of nowhere. And if someone was knocking… that was a good sign, right? If someone meant harm, they would not take the time to knock.

Tony had told you specifically to not answer the door though.

But… you were curious. You had not seen anyone else for weeks. Your bond tugged at you, jostling deep inside as you turned back towards the door, considering to ignore your Alpha’s direct order. The bond was warning you to be good. But…

<><><>

Outside the cabin, Carol peered in through the window, scanning the front room.

She shrugged, looking back at Natasha. “There’s no one inside that I can see from this window.”

“Well, he’s obviously here if the door is open and his car is here.”

“Maybe they’re upstairs…?” Carol said, hinting at the bedroom activities they were sure Tony would be engaging Y/N in if he had not already.

Natasha exhaled sharply, turning from the door, and going back towards the stairs. She spotted the boat house and also the large shop on the property. He could be in there as well. She sure as hell was not going to be entering his cabin without his permission for fear he had not mated Y/N yet. Or if he had mated her and Y/N was pregnant. Even if she was Beta, he would be threatened by her presence, especially without being invited.

Just as she stepped onto the gravel, she heard Carol behind her say, “Oh, Y/N. Hey.” Natasha stopped on a dime and whirled around on her heel. “Remember me?”

There she was behind the screen door. She looked healthy enough, like she had been eating and drinking enough. But she was timid, not opening the screen door. She still wanted that barrier between her and Carol.

Y/N must have answered Carol, but so quiet Natasha could not hear as she approached because Carol asked, “That’s good. I hope I’m not forgettable. Where’s Tony?”

<><><>

You eyed Natasha as she came back up onto the wrap around porch and looked back at Carol, answering, “In the boathouse. He was getting it ready to take it out for lunch.”

Noticing that both of them had stolen a glance at your exposed shoulder, you shifted uncomfortably. You knew they had been seeing if you had been mated. That was apparent in your tank top; there was no hiding the mark at the base of your neck.

They both acted unperturbed by it though, carrying on with pleasantries.

“Tony fishing. That’s something I wouldn’t expect to be happening,” Natasha chimed in, giving a small smile. “But times have changed.” She looked over her shoulder towards the boat house and she asked you, “Mind if we go out there to talk to him?”

She was… asking you for permission?

You shrugged in response, “Yeah, that’s okay.”

“You wanna come with us?” Carol offered. She was trying really hard to be friendly and gentle, and you appreciated it.

But you shook your head immediately, “I’m not allowed outside without Alpha.” You had already broken one of his rules by answering the door, there was no need to press your luck.

“Even on your own property?” Natasha asked before she could stop herself it seemed.

Carol gave her a vexed look, chastising her with her eyes. Natasha cleared her throat sheepishly before tossing another look to the boathouse. You knew it was silly and what she said was right. You wanted to go outside on your own, lay down in the grass. But Tony did not completely trust you on your own yet; you feared he never would, especially if you were pregnant. That would make him all the more overprotective.

“Well, looks like I won’t have to stretch my legs,” Natasha commented, and you peered between the pair of them trying to follow her gaze. “He’s coming to us.”

You could not see him, but you could sense him, the irritation rattling your bond. He was displeased and you could think of a handful of reasons why. You had hoped they would have gone to find him before he realized they were here but there were a lot of windows on the boathouse that had a clear view of the front porch.

“Tony,” Carol called out in greeting about the time you were able to see him coming up the path.

As he came up the stairs, Tony was staring you down and you sunk back into yourself.

Natasha and Carol could sense the tension and they both took a step back away from the door and subsequently away from you. The movement did not go unnoticed by him, his eyes following their shift.

“Tony, afternoon. We were just checking in to see how it was going. You know we have to,” Natasha told him calmly.

Tony’s stare was piercing you, and you averted your eyes, not wanting to challenge him with direct eye contact. “Well, it’s apparently not going without bumps. Y/N, I told you specifically to not answer the damn door!”

“I’m sorry,” you said timidly, flinching at him swearing at you.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. You’re supposed to do what you’re told!” He snapped his fingers, pointing back behind you and ordered, “Go make lunch. Now!”

You refrained from mentioning that you had already done that, wanting to be ready whenever he came to fetch you to go out on the water. You left the door and decided you might as well make extra sandwiches for the two women to busy yourself and be hospitable.

<><><>

When Tony turned his attention back to Natasha and Carol after Y/N had retreated back into the cabin from view, he was met with a dispassionate look from Carol but Natasha on the other hand, she looked miffed.

“Can I help you with something?” Tony asked dryly.

“We’re here to check up.”

“And?”

“And… discuss something.”

Tony wagged his finger, “There’s always a catch. Well, lay it on me. And do it quick. Y/N and I are going out on the lake for lunch.”

Carol cut right to the chase, “There’s talk about either taking samples from Omega—” That already was setting Tony on edge, that was clear as day in his expression and tense body. “To try to figure out if there can be a cure given to people who should be able to have children and can’t.”

“Absolutely not,” Tony said immediately. His tone was firm.

“Or,” Carol continued ignoring his outburst. “They want to use Omegas as surrogates.”

A muscle in Tony’s jaw twitched at that, his eyes hard.

“There’s talk of it. High up in the government,” Natasha added. “Thought we would come talk to you about it.”

“For?” Tony spat. His brow pinched a split second before he gave them a belittling laugh. “Wait, did you two think I was going to agree to this? That’s what you wanted to come ‘talk to’ me about? Giving Y/N up to the government?”

“You won’t be giving her up—”

Tony cut in forcibly, “This is not even a conversation. I don’t know what two think you’re playing at.”

Natasha countered quickly, “You always were advocating for protecting Earth.”

“And it is protected. What’s not protected here?”

“Tony.”

“What? We took a stance and we got royally railed. Bent all the way over the table. I almost died in space. Did you forget that?”

“No, I didn’t for—”

“So many people died. Just… disappeared out of existence! Blink of an eye. Well, Thanos got what he wanted and he’s dead now! Earth is going on and there are no more threats from up above. Everyone’s too busy reeling with what happened themselves on their own planets to even care about trying to come here. No, we’re doing fine. I mean, maybe the US government isn’t doing fine which is no new news there. But we are fine”

Carol tried to persuade him now, “We aren’t fine. People are grieving everywhere, and people want to be able to have children again to bring some sense of happiness into their lives and they can’t. So—"

“You’re not taking her,” Tony spat defensively.

“I’m not asking to do that,” Carol said, standing her ground despite Tony’s aggressive stance and the wild look in his eyes.

“Then what is it you’re asking?” Tony asked, his tone dripping with condescension. “Cause that’s sure as hell what it sounds like.”

“I’m asking you to consider the possibility in the future—”

“And I’m telling you, not gonna happen,” Tony declared, cutting her off.

“I thought you were insufferable before,” Natasha scoffed, completely done with how quickly he had become pugnacious at the mere mention of anyone else laying a finger on Y/N.

Tony fixated his death glare on her now and sneered, “I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Carol cleared her throat and said, “Fine, we’ll leave.” She almost turned but implored him once more, “Just keep that on your mind that it’s being spoken about in the government.”

“So, maybe you should do it on your own accord, Tony, before someone forces you to. Because I know how much you love being told what to do,” Natasha quipped coldly as she did begin to walk off. Carol followed her.

“Tell me. Did Cap agree to it?” Tony called out after them, taunting. Natasha and Carol both refused to answer which was answer enough and Tony let out a wry laugh. “That’s what I thought. You two are nuts.”

Natasha slammed the car door so hard, Carol was worried it was going to fall off when she tried to open it to get out. Natasha glared at Tony through the windshield. He was still standing on the porch, pacing slowly, eyes right back on her. He was making sure they were really going to leave.

Shaking her head, Carol turned the car on and said disappointed, “I thought this would be easier.”

“I didn’t. I expected to want to knock his head off his shoulders. Just like Steve. And any other Alpha we are going to talk to about it. It’s going to be futile to convince any of them to let their Omega carry another person’s child.”

“Well, let’s hope we find others that are more open. Because I don’t want this becoming a mandated thing from the government. Things will really get ugly then. I’ve read Handmaid’s Tale,” Carol sighed as she backed out of the driveway.

Tony and Natasha kept eyes on each other until Carol turned the car around and started driving back down the long driveway towards the main road.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

[blue-pastel-cat]

Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation

Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).

I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”

1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)

In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.

If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.

Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″

Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)

For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.

So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?

---

Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.

Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.

Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie) 

A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?

Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”

trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO

4. Find a place to call it home  by yamajiroo 

Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...

Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.

“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”

Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.

5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver  

When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.

Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD

6. new world, same me, same bullshit  by  bobamilkteas (Wes)

At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.

Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.

7. misplaced heart of mine by  inkburn           

“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.

“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”

“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”

Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”

(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)

Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;

8.  Blossom of Grace  by birdpriestess  

One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.

Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.

9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced               

“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”

“I—”

“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”

“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”

Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”

Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.

10. Ephemeral by criedprinz        

“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.

Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”

He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.

“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”

When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..

Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA

11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth

Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.

But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.

There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.

Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.

That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3

[thong-in-the-twist]

Chapter: Gwangju

//Gong Yoo (Kim Shin) x you

Summary: To atone for his sins he is forced to wander the Earth searching for her before it’s too late.

Prologue: Silla Goryeo Joseon Tamna March 1st

It's been three years since I updated this last. Exactly three years and 9 days, and I'm glad to be posting it. God it’s been so long I no longer remember how I used to format my entries. I don’t even remember my tagging system. A word of warning: modern Korean history is heavily marked with suffering and for the purposes of this story I needed "her" to go through... A lot. But there is only one chapter left, so hopefully, we won't be suffering a lot longer.

***

It was obvious to him that she was going to be reborn immediately. It worked like that for centuries, why this time it would have been different? So he started searching for her immediately, anxious. His land was crying, his people were suffering.

Forests were being cut down to fuel the new age, the industrialization age. Instead, the land was being converted into fields: rice, cereals, cotton. Colonizers were laying new roads, tarmac was flowing down the peninsula so similarly to cold mountain streams. All to fuel the new age, all to feed the great Japanese Empire.

Mines on the peninsula were running day and night, long shafts filled with exploited bodies. Names were being changed to Japanese sounding ones, men were forced to cut their hair, celibate Buddhist monks were forced to marry, kids were banned from learning Korean in schools, papers were censored, farmers forced out of their lands, his people were forced to worship Shinto, and to see the Emperor as a god.

Shamanistic rituals were even scarcer than during the reign of the Lee dynasty. People were no longer openly calling for him, but their thoughts thrown into the ether were reaching him. Pleas and begging, prayers and threats, all were filling his mind and heart. The burden was heavy. Not too heavy to carry, but it seemed harder than the sword he was carrying in his heart. It seemed heavier than the last memories of his other life, than the image of red on white stone.

She found her. Young girl in the seaside village, barely 20 kilometers north from the village where she was born as Binna, centuries ago. The village tree was still alive even if the village itself didn’t exist anymore. Kim Shin didn’t know what happened to it after he saw her sacrifice herself back then. Were it pirates, or wars, or famine that drew people out? There was no way of knowing it.

She was four when he found her. Back in Joseon she would have been found just in time, he’d have two years to convince her parents not to give her away. And then 11 years until she had to be wed. Her village was far off the beaten path. It was far from the capital and far from Japanese shores. People were hardened and down-to-earth but it was a tightly knit community. It was as safe as it could have been in that age and time.

Kim Shin spent his days under the Holy Tree, now surrounded by forest. He remembered the village square and colorful ribbons. He remembered tax collectors and their cart. He remembered Binna’s clothes and hair, and sword splitting her throat open.

Kim Shin visited her house by night. He hid in the shadows, not ready to be seen by her nor her parents. He watched her as she slept in the same room as the rest of her family. He watched her wondering what woman she would grow up to be. He hoped that he’d be able to shield her from any hardship that she was destined to face in her life.

While watching her sleep, he was reminiscing about her previous lives. Her bravery, her tenacity, her pride and her selflessness. The lives that were lived and ended for his people, the lives that were ended for him, the ones that were ended because of him.

Kim Shin was restless. He was used to waiting. He learnt to be patient after centuries of waiting and slowly working towards his goal. And yet, he was restless. Sitting by the Holy Tree he was restless and anxious. Her last life was sacrificed for the country. For this land, and for the people. And here he was waiting idly for her to grow up. She was safe.

The Holy Tree was old but strong, with new springs and bright green leaves. It was magnificent even without ribbons and paper talismans. It was safe, far off the beaten path.

Their people were not.

And yet, he was idly waiting for her to grow up and take away his burden, while sitting under the Holy Tree.

While their people were desperately begging for help.

She was safe. And he had time. He had enough time to present her the liberation of their people as a wedding gift.

And thus, Kim Shin was off once more.

*

Koreans were fighting on the peninsula, yes, but there were fighting abroad as well. Kim Shin supported the Provisional  Government of Republic of Korea in Shanghai, and aided students in Japan. When the empire invaded Manchuria, he was there fighting them off. He pleaded and negotiated with Chinese diplomats for them to move against the assailant before it was too late.

But the Central Kingdom waited too long, they were undecided way beyond what was safe. And thus, the Japanese attacked first.

The war that broke out drained the Korean peninsula even more. They were the ones to bear the brunt of feeding and supplying soldiers. And then, when Kim Shin was sure it couldn’t be worse, European war came to their lands, merging with the already raging Sino-Japanese conflict and bringing more players, more arms and more death into the equation. His people were forced into the Japanese army, forced to fight far away from their home – living and dying in China, Indonesia, Philippines.

He went where they were. It wasn’t their fight. They were farmers, artisans, teachers, workers – they weren’t warriors. He was. Kim Shin was back in the field, once more fighting for his homeland. Once more he took upon himself to be the most faithful agent of death. Immortal and determined, with unfamiliar weapon in his hand, but oh so familiar scent of blood, tears and fear clinging to him. The art of war changed through centuries but principles reminded the same.

But now it was harder to understand the purpose. It was harder to face dying foes. Every soul in his wake had hopes, and dreams, and dedication, and destiny – and yet he was invading the realm of the Divine, deciding who was to live and who was to day. What he did was to slaughter.

 But he was also fighting for his compatriots, forced to lay their lives for the occupant. He fought to save them and to bring them back to their land. He helped them escape, he cleared camps, he dealt with Japanese officers.

Japanese defeat was what they were hoping for anyway.

It was in Perek that faced his hardest encampment. It was in Perek that among Japanese officers and soldiers, and his people forced into ranks, he found others. It was in Perek that among male voices he heard female pleas.

It was in broad daylight that he marched through the camp, taking in the tents and appraising layouts and main locations. Where to get food, where to get supplies, where were the blind spots. It was in broad daylight that he heard a plea so similar to one he heard centuries ago in the Song Dynasty’s capital. So earnest and so broken plea of death.

After the first one came another, hurried and repeated like a mantra, like a prayer. And another, and another.

And another.

So familiar. So heartbreaking.

Here, so far from his homeland, he heard her begging for death. For an escape.

But she was safe. She was safe back in her village, on the shores of Eastern Seas. She was safe back in her village, so close to the Holy Tree.

And yet, it was her voice, strung thin and wavering, but unmistakably hers.

A taste of bile invaded his throat as he zeroed on a dilapidated building. Better than a shack only in the name, with dark walls and dirty windows barely containing the horrors inside. His surroundings seemed to disappear, sounds of the encampment dying out, the building his focal point.

He took his time. Waiting itself was horrible, pleas constant, it would have been so easy to just end it. End all of it, all of them, all of the oppressors, just raze the  camp to the ground. But he was afraid. Afraid of going inside and seeing that was happening, how they lived. It was easy to guess, and hard to understand. Justified rage was clawing his insides, not only for her, but for all of them. It wasn’t human to do, not that the occupant was ever human.

His fear was their prolonged suffering.

He fulfilled every one of their pleas. Every single one. Some wished for death, some wished for death for their oppressors. Some wished for health, some wished to never remember. Some wished for another chance in life, some wished for one last meeting with assailants and sharp object to meet them with. He did it all.

She wanted a knife. Sharp, and easy to conceal. She found it with glee and fervor. She wanted for her doors to be open and for night to be dark. She wished for rain, heavy and obscuring. She wished for that man to fall. To suffer. To know. To fear. To never forget.

Kim Shin watched her as she sneaked out of her room. He watched her back as she sneaked through the building, chastising himself for ever believing she was safe. It wasn’t even 15 years since he saw her last. He watched her as she found her prey. He watched her as she made sure that man would never do the same thing to another woman ever again.

His screams were muffled by a gag she made out of her sad excuse of a blanket. His blood was mixing with the falling rain, that matted her hair to her face. Her skin was ghostly, blush and looked paper-thin.

Once again he watched her as she raised her blade against herself. She was sure and focused,  and emanating finally found peace. She was quick and efficient, and he barely had time to catch her before she fell down. She was smiling when her head hit the cradle of his head and her open eyes were staring lifelessly at the rainy clouds.

Kim Shin sat there in the rain, holding her body, obvious to now quiet whimpers coming from the man laying a few steps away from him. Once more her life was filled with suffering. Was her childhood good? How did she grow up? How long was she here?

He didn’t cry – feeling like he did not deserve to. She wasn’t the only one of his people that went through this, and something was telling him that there were countless more suffering now.

*

Finding her was important, but making sure that the world she was being born into was better became urgent. Kim Shin knew he couldn’t deal with her suffering. All recent lives he witnessed ended in a tragedy. Queen trying to protect freedom, young girl fighting for it, and the one that saw it in death.

She deserved freedom, all of his people did.

And freedom came with pain, tears and even more death. Foreign powers fought over his land, influencing its growth and stagnation once again. His land was sold and divided even after its occupant lost the war. Both red and blue powers abhorred giving Koreans back their land and their freedoms, forcing their ideologies upon them.

And thus the greatest conflict shook the land once more. June 25th, the day when brother went against his brother. Three years. Three years of fights, civil war raging on the peninsula destroying what was left after 35 years of the occupation.

And even that conflict ended because outside powers decided so. Every death, every lost soul – it was all because foreigners decided to settle their differences right there on Korean soil. The wound left by the war was painful and still suppurating. Peninsula was divided into two, one nation was split and the border between them became a wall that separated families and broke people’s spirit.

He saw fourteen hundred years of conflicts and changes, and ups and downs, but the last hundred years were far the worst he had seen. For the first time in his long life he wasn’t sure how to go about finding her. If he even should. Every time he found her, he lost her just as quickly. She suffered so much.

But if he didn’t search for her, he was sure that the Divine would find another way to punish them. Like giving her knowledge of his existence and urging her to wait for him.

By now Divine schemes were somewhat readable. He’d find her where he’d least expect her – where she was supposedly the safest, yet in the biggest danger. People in the south were struggling, famine and corruption was rampant. North was getting help from other communist states and plotting expansion. And he couldn’t find her.

Just like when he found her on Tamna, she wasn’t here. She wasn’t within the borders of both Korean states. And that’s what horrified him. He looked in China, so many of his compatriots lived there. He looked in Japan among those who stayed after occupation. He searched in South East Asia among those who stayed after the second world war. He visited the United States of America, hoping to find her there. And yet, as if the Divine was shielding her from him, he couldn’t find her.

In Germany he saw the Wall. The Berlin Wall dividing one nation into two. The blue state and red state, just like his homeland, was divided. The Wall was fresh and imposing, newly built. A palpable sign of schism. A knife in a wound, cutting it more open with every breath. It wasn’t as protected as the inter-Korean border was but it served as a reminder of similarly painful division.

As Kim Shin walked by the Wall, on the western side of the border, he heard a cautious ask. Barely audible, fleeting.

The person was asking for a haircut. If he wasn’t over fourteen hundred years old, he’d dismiss it as an auditory illusion. What would be a Korean doing behind the Iron Curtain – asking for a haircut?

Kim Shin knew better. Kim Shin knew: she was there.

*

Finding his way into the USSR was easier than he thought it to be. As a citizen of the communist, neighboring nation, he was more than welcome. He travelled from Korea, surprised by the sheer numbers of Koreans on the USSR's eastern lands. But the closer he got to Europe the fewer they got. By the time he left Moscow, his head was clear and free of usual prayers. It was in Poland that he heard one more plea – a different voice, exactly the same ask.

Children. Who Kim Shin found were children. From 5 years old to 16. War orphans being cared for by people so vastly different from them.

She was among them, one of the oldest kids, happily chatting in weirdly hard language.

It took him quite long to understand why all the kids kept praying for a haircut. Their hair was neatly kept, just like their clothes, their rooms. There was something of military efficiency in the way they were being brought up, and Kim Shin understood that it was due to a few Korean supervisors that came here with kids.

Kids were cared for, but not exactly loved. That’s why they thought so fondly of getting haircuts. Hairdressers would pat and massage their heads – that was an extent of warmth they were getting.

*

She and the rest of the kids were sent back to Korea a few months later. She drowned in a river when she tried to escape back to her European orphanage for the third time. Yalu River was her undoing, just like those centuries ago cold waters of the sea took her away.

So much death. So much suffering. What for?

As the North's situation was getting worse, the South started fighting for its economy. Authoritarian governments in both Koreas were similar in goals but different in execution, and slowly their fates were changing. South Korea was coming out of poverty, just as North Korea started spiraling into it.

With newly found resources South Koreans were finally able to think and want – and what they wanted was freedom. Freedom through free choice and democracy. Assassination of general Park, southern dictator, seemed like a perfect opportunity – but before democratic movement could raise its momentum it was brutally squashed.

***

“If we all go, they won’t be able to hold him! We need to get him out!”

Every frantic sentence is met with loud approval. You weren’t surprised when they formed a new government without looking back at people. You weren’t surprised when Chun Doohwan took over KCIA while still holding his position in the Korean Army. Of course he would. Even martial law wasn’t a surprise. But a few hours ago you heard that they arrested Kim Daejung.

Kim was an oppositionist. He was fighting for democracy in your country, and what was more important he was from your region. Rumors said that he was being held on charges of instigating demonstrations.

What a bull…

You were there all because you wanted to be there, and wanted better for your country.

“They are closing the university!” The shout could be heard above the other voices. Suddenly the thirty of you fell silent. You focused on the man that shouted it. You knew his face, you might have seen him once or twice in the library.

“What…?”

“Chun declared universities to be dangerous to society!” The roar that follows is deafening. There is no more “inciting”, all of you immediately walk to the university, gathering other students while marching.

The road leading to the main entrance is long, which gives you a perfect view of army vehicles parked in front of it. Soldiers organizing were also visible, moving with purpose or watching you with caution.  Your group wasn’t big. Maybe two hundred souls. You weren’t sure what was the plan – but the goal was clear – to show that you wouldn’t take it lying down. They couldn’t take it all. Freedom, Kim Daejung, universities.

You weren’t sure who threw the first stone. It was all a blur. There was shouting, screams and orders, flying stones and falling batons. The students’ group dispersed only to form back, and to scatter once more but this time closer to the Provincial Office.

This time soldiers were wearing riot gear.

*

“You know well that I am going back out there!”

Your mother's eyes are filled with tension. The same tension pushes her lips into a thin line drawing her wrinkles out. She won’t back down, but neither will your brother and you.

“Mom, it’s what we have to do. They killed Gyeongcheol,” says Chanhwan. He is a high school senior and his goal was to get into your university.

“His poor mother,” whispers your mother as if against herself. That was something she said every time this was mentioned. Soldiers in riot gear killed Kim Gyeongcheol as he was passing by protesters. It infuriated the city and their protest was gathering momentum, but every person counted.

They needed to pay. For Gyeongcheol and for those who were killed yesterday.

What you wouldn’t tell your mother is the fact that you got guns. Yesterday you raided one of the military warehouses. It wasn’t an usual protest anymore, it was an uprising. Chanhwan told you that he heard that folks were talking about liberating Gwangju and making it into a free city. An official request for help was being drafted to be sent to the US Embassy. A country so enamored with freedom would for sure help you.

Freedom.

That’s what you longed for.

A horn outside let you know that your transport was there. Chanhwan was already out the doors, you stalled a second to grab your mother’s hand.

“Believe in us, mom. We will be back, victorious,” you said with emphasis. The world was yours to take and you wouldn’t hesitate. You run outside, not waiting for her to answer, and jump into the waiting taxi.

What an odd vehicle to be driving to a fight.

*

City was cordoned off and outside communications were cut. It didn’t scare you off. Nothing could, really.

Taxi was slowly rolling down the street, Chanhwan laying low in the driver's seat. He knew that as soon as he raised his head, he’d be dead. You knew that there were forces on the other end of the street aiming at you with their guns, hidden behind covers.

You and Chanhwan’s friend Sunwoo were slowly creeping along the car, using it as a moving shield. You could see a body that you were tasked with retrieving. You hoped the girl was alive. You all knew that not moving after being shot increased your chances of surviving if you couldn’t move on your own.

Suddenly you heard a loud bang and sounds of automatic fire.

“Run!” yelled Chanhwan and you didn’t need to be told twice. With Sunwoo you lurched forward trying to match Chanhwan’s accelerations. You kept your head low as smoke filled the street. Sunwoo was the first to reach the body.

Dead.

Boy opened back doors and together you pushed the lifeless body inside – not caring for decency you jumped inside as Sunwoo closed doors behind you. You heard him get in and Chanhwan was speeding off.

Girl’s hair smelt of flowers.

*

A helicopter was flying overhead. You’ve never would have guessed that you’d learn how to make Molotov’s cocktail. But there you were pushing a rag into a bottle. Sunwoo was in the field hospital, chances of saving his leg quite high. Which was more than could be said about many of your friends.

Casualties were high, but you weren’t ready to give up. The uprising cost the city too many lives to be so easily abandoned.

How could your government do that? You didn’t know. But you hoped for those soldiers to spend the rest of their lives knowing that they killed their own.

Chanhwan was on the other side of the street, giving you signs. You focused on him and he started slowly counting down with his fingers. As soon as you saw him countdown to zero, you threw your bottle.

There was an explosion and a sudden yell. You didn’t stay put to see the effect, you needed to escape as fast as possible. On your left you could see a group of fifteen or so students running the other way. There were fires and smoke and it could be hard to realize what was happening.

You lost your footing as you realized that Chanhwan was not running parallel to you. It seemed like eternity as you looked back to see him lying on the corner of the street. You could see his dark uniform jacket slowly dampening with even darker liquid.

It wasn’t conscious. Nor your scream, nor your leap.

The first bullet going through your arm was more surprising than painful. Second one caught your leg, tripping you down, the third one pierced through your clavicle as you fell. You saw smoke, and soldiers moving forward with riot shields, and your brother laying on the street, and an abandoned taxi. You saw another group of students running somewhere to your right.

Pavement was hot from the sun as you fell down. It didn’t hurt, or maybe it was so painful that you couldn’t feel it.

You saw a blue butterfly flying away.

***

Kim Shin forced his way into the fighting city. Through fields and through the army, he walked into the fray. No one knew. A village ten kilometers away? No one knew what was happening in the city. There were rumors, but not one could have prepared him for the riots he saw.

He saw students organizing, he saw local militias forming, he saw field hospitals being erected, he saw taxi and bus drivers using their vehicles to help the cause.

Had he done everything he could? No. Was it resignation? Maybe.

How many times had he seen her fighting? Why every time he saw her she was either suffering or leading a good fight. Why was she always selfless, and always right in the center of a turmoil ailing his nation. Just once couldn’t she be selfish and live?

Seeing her protest against authoritarian government barely half a century after she did the same against occupation filled him with unfamiliar annoyance. Rage. Why her. What did she do to be always reincarnated into such circumstances.

Was it even worth pursuing her?

Was it his atonement for not killing his king eons ago, even when she sacrificed herself. Was she destined to be laying her life for a cause while he watched her do it?

Defiance. That was what stopped him from acting. He could have gone on a rampage. Just like when he was a general, fighting with Gaya’s warriors. It wouldn’t have been hard, decimating troops. Those already stationed in the city, and those that would undoubtedly come to reinforce them.

He felt old. He was old. Looking at the fighting city he felt like it wasn’t his fight.

In the city he saw a foreigner. A foreigner with a camera. Documenting what was happening, what atrocities were committed on Gwangju’s streets.

Instead of watching her die once again he decided to protect the foreigner. To make sure that his recordings would be seen by the world.

As Kim Shin protected the foreigner, he didn’t realize that he could no longer hear prayers.

[maatryoshkaa]

young god | epilogue

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | epilogue

word count: 4.4k

description: it’s been five years since the Miroh Heights murder cases came to a close — and five long, bittersweet years since you’d caught a glimpse of Han Jisung. Things in Miroh Heights have changed drastically since then — but when Felix sets you up on another blind date in an attempt to help you move on from the past, you realise that, once again, you’ve signed up for much more than you bargained for.

masterlist

recommended listening: stray kids - “sunshine”

epilogue.

“See ya, Miss l/n!”

You turned to wave back at the little girl who had called your name, her round eyes visibly bright from the waiting room of your clinic. Seven years old, front teeth just beginning to come in. One of her hands clutched a half-unwrapped lollipop as her mother held onto the other. 

The first time you had seen them, the child had been unwilling to speak — bullied relentlessly at school, her mother had informed you through a veil of desperate tears — but now, her laughter filled the warm air, traumas that had once been etched into a too-young face already beginning to heal and fade.

Evening sunshine warmed your cheeks the moment you stepped out of the building’s doors, a light breeze rustling the papers in your hand as you quickly tucked them into your bag. “Five years of graduate school hasn’t made you more organised,” Felix often teased you, and you would smack his shoulder in retaliation.

Five years hadn’t changed your friendship in the slightest, either—and you had to admit you were beyond grateful for that.

As always, the city around you was humming with life: evening rush hour, with people darting here and there, frantically flagging down taxis and catching their buses. Usually, on days like these, you should have been hopping into the first cab home and collapsing like a corpse as soon as you reached your apartment. But today, you remembered with a sigh, was not going to be one of those days. 

“Hey, Doctor l/n!”

You whipped your head towards the voice, a smile spreading across your tired features as you saw who it belonged to. In a slightly jaded Mini Cooper—second hand, of course, but worked just like new — Yang Jeongin waved at you from the driver’s seat.  

“I’m not a doctor, ‘innie,” you reminded him playfully as he unlocked the passenger door and let you climb in.

“Not a doctor yet,” he corrected you, grinning. “Besides, ‘child therapist’ doesn’t have as much of a ring to it.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing, and waved at another one of your patients as Jeongin started the engine. “You really didn’t have to offer to drive me, you know — the streets are a nightmare during this hour.”

“It’s not that far,” Jeongin protested, “Plus, I barely get to see you now, you’re so busy.” You didn’t have the heart to argue. The kid loved being behind the wheel so much, he made it seem like you were doing him a favour.

You watched Jeongin turn onto the main road, squeezing the car in between a van and a motorcyclist. He really had grown up over the last few years — his hair was darker now, remarkably sharp cheekbones overtaking his once-rounded cherub cheeks — but in some ways, nothing had changed at all. He still had that natural knack of brightening whatever room he stepped in — the Yang Jeongin effect, Hyunjin called it. And his heart was still too big for his own good: you remembered how he had adamantly refused to take the money Jisung kept offering him after the case had finally closed, and when Hyunjin had asked him why, Jeongin had simply replied, “After everything that’s happened, it doesn’t feel like he’s the one who owes me.”

On the other hand, Jeongin had been more than happy to take Prosecutor Kang’s compensation money instead, and had finally visited a car dealership with you and Hyunjin. 

The moment he had seen the Mini-Cooper — a beat-up thing from the 90s that you were amazed was still running — the younger boy’s eyes had lit up. “It’s just...it looks like the one our family used to have, before...the incident,” he had explained sheepishly, making you and Hyunjin exchange a look. And so, after a fiery back-and-forth between you and the salesman—not to mention a few sleepless nights at the mechanic’s — the rest was history.

The light turned green, and you spotted a photograph wobbling on the dashboard — a laughing child you recognised immediately as Jeongin. Behind him, a woman with a familiar wide smile had her arms around a man with eyes resembling a fox’s, with none of the slyness. “How’s your dad these days?”

“Mostly stays at home taking care of my mum, but he swears he wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jeongin turned his head to you excitedly, as if a thought just hit him. “She got out of bed a couple days ago, you know? The first time ever since my dad left.”

Your mouth fell open in a surprised smile, and Jeongin continued, “He’s real excited he got to teach me how to drive, too. I think he feels like he missed out on a lot of things, like...walking me home from school. Teaching me how to ride a bike. Graduation.” He shrugged. His words might have sounded sad at first, but you could see the way the lines of Jeongin’s face were more relaxed now, at peace. 

“Mind if I make a quick stop?” Jeongin asked abruptly, and you checked your watch before shaking your head lightly.

“I’m still about twenty minutes early. We’ve got plenty of time.”

He turned onto a familiar street, and you rolled down the window as Glow Cafe slowly came into view. It was just as busy as it had ever been — even the cars were stalling by the curb — but Hwang Hyunjin spotted you almost immediately, waving through the glass window. Quickly hopping out, Jeongin popped the trunk open, and you watched him haul two crates of coffee beans into the bustling cafe. The once-famed “delivery boy” of Miroh Heights only really did deliveries for Glow Cafe now, after Hyunjin had offered Jeongin a position as a barista until he graduated—and although he wasn’t the best with his hands (or his memory, for that matter), Hyunjin didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Him being here is more than enough for business. You should see the students flock in here every morning just to catch a glimpse of him.” The former barista snorted. “What’d I tell you? They’re eating him right up.”

They waved at Jeongin now as he jogged obliviously out of the cafe, Hyunjin’s laughs muted by the glass as he threw you a knowing wink. He had graduated himself, two years ago, officially inheriting the business after his grandmother had passed away. Glow Cafe had since come a long way, with Hyunjin always at the forefront of new design ideas and enthusiastically telling you about his plans to expand even more in the future.           

“Get this: ‘CEO Hwang, the most eligible bachelor of Miroh Heights,’” Felix held up his hands as if picturing a giant headline, giving his signature wolf whistle as you burst into laughter and Hyunjin kicked the blond man in the shin. “Ow!”

“How did you even get into the press with those cheesy titles?” Hyunjin  groaned.

“Not just ‘get into the press’, ‘jinnie,” you reminded him, giggling, “he’s the head journalist now!”

It was true—with his impeccable wit and seamless way with words, it came to nobody’s surprise when Felix maneuvered his way to the top of the local press in a matter of years. The head of the press still loathed him with a biting passion— “I can feel her glares all the way from her office,” Felix retorted — and rumour had it that the two seemed to fire shots at each other all day long. The image of a powder-faced, middle-aged woman bickering with your notoriously insufferable best friend made you laugh, but you also knew deep down that Felix always took his job more seriously than he let on. His eloquent articles had gotten his name out across the city in no time,  and so you took comfort in knowing that — no matter how hard the head of the press bared her teeth—nobody could touch Lee Felix now. 

Five years, you thought to yourself wistfully, eyes catching a familiar detective’s office as Jeongin drove past. What a trip down memory lane. You’d seldom come by this part of town since then, and seeing the familiar buildings sent a flood of memories and mixed feelings stirring in your chest. 

The well-loved Detective Bang, much to the disappointment of adoring students and professors alike, had moved abroad to a bigger city—whether he had been taken by a new precinct, or a new big case, you couldn’t be sure. “Rumour has it he’s doing undercover work now,” Seungmin had mentioned to you once in passing, “We haven’t heard from him in a while, but he’s making a big name for himself out there, that’s for sure.”

The District Nine police station whizzed by you in a blur, and more of the prosecutor’s words rang through your head.

“Meanwhile, the chief of police keeps insisting he’s glad to be rid of him, but we all know he secretly misses Chan.” Seungmin had shaken his head, and you had smiled at the image of the stoic police captain—chief, now—grudgingly sulking over the loss of his best friend.   

Jeongin made one last turn, and the narrow buildings opened up into the heart of Miroh Heights—the oldest part of town, where the roller rink, record shop, and the diner were. The sight of Mia’s Diner made you sink down instinctively in the passenger seat, and you couldn’t keep the raw dread out of your voice as you let out a long sigh. 

Jeongin gave you sympathetic look. “For someone who’s going on a blind date, you don’t sound too happy.”

“That’s because I’m not, Jeongin. I don’t even know why Felix keeps insisting on these. The last time I agreed to one was—” you broke off before you could finish what you were saying, the unspoken words echoing in your mind. The last time I agreed to one was when I met Jisung.

That’s right—the last official blind date you had been on, you had met Han Jisung — and he had turned your entire world upside down. For years afterwards, you had told yourself that you wouldn’t take that day back for the entire world, but now...now, you weren’t so sure.

After all, how could you be sure of someone you hadn’t heard from in over five years?

The rehabilitation centre didn’t allow letters in or out— you had learned that the hard way after your first letters had been sent directly back to your doorstep. Usually, they had told you, if things went well, patients could start correspondence again after a year or so—but you had gotten absolutely nothing. Not a single word. 

Five years—he should have been out by now. He could have been anywhere, doing anything—but he certainly hadn’t remembered to write or even call you. 

Had he really forgotten about you?

“Five years is a long time, y/n,” Felix told you gently, after you had adamantly refused the blind date he kept insisting on. “People...change, and maybe he’s—moved on.”

Moved on. 

You didn’t know how to tell Felix how much the thought of that hurt more than you were willing to admit, how this was the sole reason why you hadn’t been able to go on a single date for the past five years. You didn’t know how to tell him that Jisung hadn’t left your mind since the moment he had disappeared from your sight, five years ago, in the corridor of that courthouse. 

“I’ll be waiting,” Jisung had said.  And yet he was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, Felix wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“You’re in your mid-twenties now, y/n. Loosen up a little, yeah? You’re allowed to go on dates, for goodness’ sake.”

“I’m hopeless, ‘lix. I’m pretty sure the stray dog on the street has a more interesting love life than me.”

“Maybe,” Felix mused, “I think I saw it running around with a litter of puppies the other da—ow!”

“You okay? You look kind of sick,” Jeongin remarked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Got everything you need?”

You resisted the urge to laugh. If only Jeongin knew how you had prepared for this date—by mapping out all the ways you were going to end it as quickly as possible. Faking food poisoning? Check. Arrange a time for a friend to call you and pretend an emergency came up? Check— although Hyunjin had had a strange glint in his eyes when he had agreed to it. Worst comes to worst? Pepper spray, check. You let out a slow exhale. “Sure. All set.”

You thanked Jeongin with a hug and hopped out of the car. Just as you began walking towards the diner, you heard him call out behind you.

“Oh, yeah, Felix told me pass on a message — from him to you.” You turned back, and Jeongin gave a boyish grin that was half apologetic, half laughing. “‘Go get ‘em, tiger!’”

You gave an exasperated cry and yanked open the diner door.

━━━━━━━━

You were beginning to wonder if you’d been stood up.

Mia’s Diner was usually busy, bustling with students and townspeople alike, and tonight it truly was: booths packed with couples both old and new, laughter and the smell of food wafting through the warm air as friends and families celebrated the start of summer. The jukebox was on and playing an old disco song you liked but didn’t know the name of, the checkered floor tiles clicking with the sounds of brisk waitresses’ heels and dancing feet.

You didn’t know why Felix had insisted on coming here, of all places, what with the mixed emotions and memories you had tied to it, but you had to admit that the jovial atmosphere of Mia’s Diner on a Friday night never really disappointed. You found yourself relaxing slightly—just slightly, bobbing your head lightly to the music.

“Mia’s Diner?” You repeated incredulously. “Seriously, Felix, do you only know one date location? For the so-called ‘Matchmaker of Miroh Heights’, you’re sure lacking in the variety department.”

“Easy, tiger. Just trust me on this one, okay? You’re gonna owe me one.”

“I’m not—” you began indignantly, but Felix continued.

“Plus, the poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either. You both need this.”

“Years? Are you setting me up with a hermit?” 

“Oh, yeah. A big-time loser, seriously— but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”

And so, for the second time, Felix’s schemes and pleading puppy eyes had gotten you here—sitting at an empty booth, waiting for a blind date. He hadn’t even bothered to show you a picture of the man in question. You couldn’t help the smile from slowly slipping from your face as each minute passed, and you nibbled your lip anxiously.

Your date was thirty minutes late.

You peered out the window, at the lights of the town glowing a faint neon  against the clear evening skies. Each time a car filled in a parking space, you sat up, craning your neck to see if it was him—before slumping back down in disappointment. Five years, you thought to yourself glumly. Five years, and you still had no luck with dates. Maybe you just had no luck with love, you thought dryly. You imagined Felix laughing later when you told him about it and sighed, a twinge of worry replacing the dread in your gut.

Had something gone wrong?

After turning the waitress away for the eighth time, you fished out your phone from your pocket, tapping on the foreign number Felix had given you. Zero new messages, zero missed calls. At least I can tell Felix I tried, you thought glumly. Maybe I should just call Jeongin again, and ask him to pick me up. And then you could drop by Glow Cafe for a bit, before trudging back to your apartment like a fallen soldier.

Just as you were punching in Jeongin’s name, feeling a sense of guilty relief wash over you, you vaguely registered the diner door swinging open beneath the lively music, and a pair of footsteps trying to shuffle past the dancing couples.

For a split second, you thought you saw a pair of tattered black Converse—laces untied, soles worn—but the mirage disappeared, and was replaced by a pair of dress shoes that eventually came to a stop at your booth. You sighed, fighting back the tears that had suddenly threatened to well in your eyes. Shit. This is not the time to be thinking about him. Why were you still thinking about him? And why on earth had you agreed to this? 

You lifted your gaze, trying to muster up a smile, hoping your disappointment didn’t show on your face— 

And immediately froze.

“Hello.”

Standing before you, looking almost like an apparition — a golden silhouette against the backdrop of the dim diner — was Han Jisung.

You had to blink several times to realise you weren’t hallucinating again. He looked...different, and yet in some ways, he looked entirely the same: his hair was shorter, but tousled as it had always been, cheeks flushed and breathless as if—as if he’d been running through a storm.

You felt your body moving before any intelligible thoughts could form in your head, pulling you forwards like a magnet until you were standing face-to-face, your shaky eyes darting across his features, not daring to believe what you were seeing.

All of a sudden, the glint in Hyunjin and Jeongin’s eyes made sense, Felix’s words replaying in your head as overwhelmed tears began welling in your eyes without warning.

“The poor guy in question hasn’t been on a date in years, either.”

“A big-time loser, seriously — but don’t tell him I said that. Just — indulge him a bit, okay, y/n? I promise you won’t regret it.”  

“Y-you—are such a dork,” you stammered out, one hand weakly hitting Jisung’s chest as you felt the tears finally spill down your face. “Han Jisung, you are such a d—” 

Your words were cut off when Jisung pulled you into his arms, his head falling to rest in the crook of your neck. Your shoulders shook with muffled sobs as you buried your face in his chest, memorising everything about this feeling, not wanting to take a single second for granted, memorising everything about him. Jisung no longer carried with him that scent of gasoline and fire — instead, he smelled faintly of lemongrass, and a hint of warm, fresh laundry.

“I missed you,” you finally whispered hoarsely, “I just—missed you, so much.”

He chuckled in your ear, the low, familiar hum stirring faint, faraway memories in your head, and you gripped onto his shirt harder, as if he would disappear completely if you didn’t hold on tight enough.

Jisung had found you in the crowded diner before you had seen him — just like the first time he had met you. And just like the first time, he had felt his breath hitch in his throat, hands hesitating on the door, wondering if he should turn back instead. He had watched you bob your head gently to the music, a small, tentative smile on your face.

You looked good — no, amazing. Different, and yet entirely the same. Kind, worried eyes catching him completely off guard, like the flash of a camera.

Just as bright.

Just as brilliant.

The truth was, there hadn’t been a single day where he hadn’t thought of you — of your voice, your touch, your laugh. Jisung had asked Felix for help the moment he had gotten released, but what he hadn’t forseen was your reaction.

“She won’t go on a blind date, mate,” Felix had informed him exasperatedly, “Took weeks of convincing. Good news, though — she finally caved. You sneaky, hopeless romantic bastard.”

She might have forgotten me, Jisung had thought. And even if you hadn’t, you might not even welcome the sight of him—after all, he hadn’t been in touch since he had left, all those years ago. But in the end, the inexplicable pull in his chest had grown unbearable, and he found himself walking towards you, wading through the crowd, feeling the ache in his heart softening with each step he took. All the way back to you.

You pulled away slowly, vision blurry as Jisung lifted a hand to cup your face, never taking eyes off yours. He had grown in the time you had been apart—he was taller, his once-lean frame stronger—and, most of all, there was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured softly, and you laughed in disbelief, “I think you’re my blind date.” 

“How—w-why—”

“I told you I wanted to do this all over again, didn’t I? And I promised that I would try to do it right this time.” Jisung smiled apologetically, wiping your tear stained cheeks with his thumb. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

You shook your head, eyes widening when you saw what he had been carefully clutching in his other hand: a small bouquet of sunflowers, their golden yellow petals as tousled as Jisung’s own blond locks. 

“Apparently they symbolise new beginnings,” Jisung said, pulling a stray petal from your hair and chuckling, “Keeping promises. Eternal happiness. That kind of thing.”

“Why didn’t you write?” You whispered, as Jisung tucked the bouquet into your hands. 

“I wanted to...to heal. In every sense of the word. I didn’t want to show you, until I...knew I was really better. Believe me, I wanted to.” Jisung’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were fighting back tears. “I wanted to, so, so badly.”

You shook your head, mumbling something about how much of a stubborn idiot he was, and Jisung’s laugh made a hesitant smile tug at your lips. As if sensing the lightening atmosphere, the waitress had promptly appeared behind Jisung and meekly cleared her throat, setting down the menu. Jisung turned back to look at you, his grin growing playful.

“I hope you’re hungry?”

The diner seemed to come back to you all at once in a flood of senses, the music and murmur of restaurant goers sending a pleasant hum through your veins as you and Jisung sat down. The night went by in a warm blur, Jisung telling you about his life at the institute, the unlikely friends he had made, the dreams he hadn’t realised he had. 

“I’m going to go back to school,” he admitted, one hand rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “I’ll be a bit behind, but...I want to study something I actually like this time.”

You had told him about how you had been working in a child therapy ward ever since you had graduated, about all the children you had met and loved and cared for. As you talked about them, you saw a wistful look in Jisung’s eyes, and a thought crossed your mind. “Have you heard anything from—from Minho?” 

He gave a small smile, but shook his head. “Rarely. It hasn’t been long since he was released, but he said he was planning on going abroad. Doing some travelling. I think...he’ll reach out when he’s ready.” He then added, as an afterthought, “And if he doesn’t, I wouldn’t blame him.”

The sad simplicity of Jisung’s words stirred a strange feeling you couldn’t quite place in your chest, and your mind flashed back to the cold-eyed coroner and his stiff smiles; then, to the raw pain that had cracked through his strained features the last time you had caught a glimpse of him. Maybe you would meet again one day, or maybe that truly would be the last you ever heard of him.

Healing of the mind, you knew, was a strange process—one that always took much longer than you would expect. There were always scars that reopened along the way, old hidden wounds that surfaced right when you least expected them. There would always be answers you might never find, you mused sadly, closure you might never get.

But sometimes, you thought as you listened to Jisung talk, memorizing the feeling of his fingers interlaced with yours, sometimes we can only hope to hold onto what we already have. 

The end of the night drew closer, and when Jisung and you had stepped outside the diner, the city was swimming in the dark ochre of the setting sun. Eventually, the two of you ended up back in the wide garden behind the hospital, your laughs and giddy conversation slowly hushing into softer murmurs. In the distance, the rush of cars on the main road grew sparser, the windows of the buildings around you flickering to life one by one like young stars. Here, though, as you rested your head on Jisung’s shoulder beneath a willow tree, the world seemed to stand still, and all was quiet.

You heard Jisung yelp suddenly and looked down to see a familiar dog pattering around your feet—a stray, with scraggly fur like an overgrown teddy bear that had been through the wash one too many times. It immediately pounced onto Jisung, beginning to lick your boyfriend’s face like no tomorrow.

“Oof! Hey there, old buddy.”

You laughed, scooping the dog off—only after it had gotten a few slobbery licks in—and shivered slightly as a cool night wind swept past you. Noticing, Jisung shrugged off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders as you raised a teasing eyebrow at the cliche move.

“It looks good on you,” Jisung insisted, and you laughed incredulously.

“Your jacket?” You asked, ruffling the dog’s ears as it curled up at your feet.

At that, Jisung looked back up at you—seeing the faint outline of your smile in the dark, your eyes sparkling as you looked back at him expectantly, obliviously—and in that moment, Jisung wondered what he had ever done to deserve someone as perfect as you. 

After a beat, he replied, “Happiness. Happy looks good on you, love.”

Your mouth parted in surprise—both at his words, and at the unexpected name—and Jisung took the chance to lean in and kiss you, pressing his soft lips to yours. Gently, at first — carefully, but as you began to kiss him back, you felt Jisung slowly relax. You kissed him the way you had wanted to for so long, feeling the years of distance, of heartache, of endless waiting finally unravel beneath your lips. His hands reached up to gingerly cup your face, pulling you closer into him as if he never intended to let go. 

Happy looks good on you, too, Han Jisung, you wanted to say once you pulled away, forehead still lightly pressed to his. And you deserve it, more than anything. You watched Jisung’s features come back into focus beneath the dim moonlight. His gaze was fixed on yours, filled with nothing but pure adoration, and you felt a sudden surge of warmth coursing through your chest. 

I love you, you wanted to tell him, more than you could ever know — but something in the warm yet playful look in Jisung’s eyes told you that he was already thinking the exact same thing.

So you just smiled, and leaned in to kiss him again.

                                                YOUNG GOD | END

ryu says: to you — yes, you, who has reached the end of this series! this epilogue is my way of saying a big thank you to those who stayed along for the entire wild ride that was young god. thank you for loving the characters, the world of miroh heights, and of course, the story! there are easter eggs and full-circle moments all throughout this epilogue, so i hope you enjoy and have fun finding them all ^^

disclaimer: in my opinion, all epilogues are open to interpretation: i’ve left some characters’ stories untold, some loose ends untied for this exact reason. miroh heights’ story has finally come to a close here, but what happens to the characters from this moment on continues in the reader’s mind now. 

all that cheesy, pretentious stuff aside, i hope to see you in the next story!

[seriouslysnape]

First your writing is amazing! Second if you’re willing to write for young Snape will you consider writing him with a fellow classmate (Slytherin)? They’re best friends and there’s been mutual pining but neither of them recognize it, even though her other friends have tried to convince her that Snape is into her. And eventually he’s the one to finally confess and as he anxiously rambles on, she interrupts him by kissing him.

No worries if you don’t want to write it!

SO CUTE. THESE ARE THE BEST IDEAS. This one is stupid cheesy and fluffy. 

(Below the cut ofc) :)

__

Taking Chances

Young Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,355

“Doesn’t it just take your breath away?”

__

“He’s looking at you again.” Your friend whispered from where she sat across from you.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the familiar Slytherin boy that you had become so acquainted with over the years. He was sitting by himself at one of the tables in the Hogwarts library, an overly large Advanced Potions book open in front of him. His black hair was unkempt and had grown well past his ears, his slender frame hunched over his study material as he quickly averted your gaze once you gave him a friendly smile.

You turned your attention back to your friend who was looking at you with a knowing smirk. You raised a brow.

“What?” You questioned.

“He likes you.” She stated quietly so no one else could hear.

You gave her a heavy sigh in response. Not this again.

“We’ve been over this. Severus doesn’t like me like that. We’re just friends.” You explained, hiding the disappointment in your voice.

“Friends who spend every day together and very clearly have a thing for each other.” She argued back, tapping her quill on her parchment.

It was common knowledge within the Slytherin House that you and Severus Snape were the unofficial couple of all the sixth years. The two of you had grown extremely close during your time at Hogwarts, and there weren’t many things that the two of you didn’t know about each other. You tended to be so close that you were blind to the fact that you both were crazy about each other.

“Is it so wrong for me to have a close friend who happens to be a boy?” You asked, feeling Severus’ stare on you again.

She shrugged, completely forgetting about the assignment she had been working on. Your other friends had been telling you for years that he admired you. They noticed the way he hid his face behind his hair when you complimented him or said something kind. Or the way he squirmed in his seat whenever you entered a room and sat next to him. The only time he ever really seemed to smile or have any sense of happiness at all was when you were around.

Other students always gave him such a hard time. He was a shy, quiet kid with not a lot of backbone to defend himself. He let other kids toss him around and walk all over him. You had always felt sorry for him. Any initial encounter you had with him had been nothing but pleasant. You were a popular Slytherin girl, boys and girls alike of all Houses were constantly feigning for your attention.

Severus was the only one who you had ever had any interest in.

He had a pure heart, which was more than you could say for anyone else who had ever tried to win you over. He was just a little different was all. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. You steadily began to build a beautiful friendship, and you saw a side of Severus that you were sure no one else would ever witness. He quickly became your best and most trusted friend.

You didn’t expect to fall in love with him though.

“Not at all. I’m just saying that it’s clear that you’re dancing around one another.” She pointed out, briefly looking at Severus and then back to you.

You didn’t offer any kind of response, hoping she’d drop the conversation. You were sure that she, along with the rest of your friends, were horribly wrong. You didn’t believe that Severus had feelings for you, no matter how badly you wanted it to be true.

She leaned in even closer, her voice even quieter than before.

“You know, [Y/N]...there’s no shame in making the first move.” She advised.

You snorted, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, and be horribly rejected and humiliated? No thanks.” You replied curtly.

She shot you a doubtful look.

“Come on. Severus would never embarrass you. The worst that could happen is that he says no to a date,” She said, trying her hardest to persuade you; “Just take a chance. You never know what might happen.”

You rolled your eyes again, packing up your stuff. You were done with this conversation.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to spend my time with someone less pushy.” You insulted your fellow Slytherin friend.

She didn’t take that personally. She brushed it off, knowing you were just frustrated. You moved yourself and your belongings to the table where Severus was sitting.

“Can I sit here?” You asked him sweetly, knowing he wouldn’t mind.

He nodded in response, acting as if he hadn’t just been staring at you for the last half hour. A hot blush crept onto his pale cheeks so he shook his head slightly to push his hair in front of his face to hide it.

“How is your Potions homework going? I haven’t done mine yet.” You asked, eyeing the book he had been reading from.

“Rather well. I can help you with yours, if you want.” He said.

Your chest fluttered gratefully at his offer. Severus was exceptional when it came to Potions. It wasn’t a shocker that he had chosen to take Advanced Potions this year. You were decent enough at it to qualify for the advanced class, but you still struggled with some concepts. Severus, on the other hand, completely aced it.

“That’d be great. This chapter has been hard for me.” You admitted, reaching into your bag to retrieve your less impressive Potions textbook.

He began to walk you through the homework, pointing out what each section required you to do. You had placed yourself next to him, watching as he scribbled the names of ingredients and amounts of each on the parchment. You watched how his focus trained in on what he was doing, and how he carefully explained certain concepts to you.

He was so cute when he was confident.

“You try this last one. It lists the ingredients and you have to figure out what potion the question is asking for.” He said, handing your quill back to you.

When you took it from his grip, your fingers brushed against his for a moment. His skin was surprisingly supple, yet calloused in some areas on his hand.. He spent a lot of time brewing potions, so you expected him to have some wear on them. Your eyes met his for a moment, looking stunned that your hands had just touched.

You quickly zoned back into your work, ignoring the flushing feeling you felt in your legs. He patiently waited for you to read the ingredients listed. He noted how your brows furrowed in concentration while you racked your brain of all the possible answers. You were dedicated to your work and education. You were motivated to be a successful witch after you graduated next year. He admired your work ethic and determination. He was so fond of the way you went out of your way to make him feel seen. You genuinely cared for him and made him happy.

“I think it’s...Everlasting Elixir?”” You said, half content with your answer.

“Exactly,” Severus confirmed; “You’re better at Potions than you give yourself credit for.”

You swallowed hard at his compliment, but gave him a kind smile. He really could be so charming...even if it was unintentional.

“Thanks, S. You’ve been a huge help.” You returned the compliment.

He gave a rare, but cute smile in return. He was more than willing to help you. A silence grew between the two of you. Suddenly, neither of you could think of what to say. You thought about what your friend had been saying. Maybe you should make a move. It wasn’t like it would kill you if you did. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship by any means, but you were afraid you’d regret it if you let this go undiscussed.

“Do you want to meet me in the courtyard later? The sunset is always so pretty this time of year and I hate watching it alone.” You said, deciding you needed more time if you were going to do this.

Sunset watching? Severus thought about that idea for a second or so. You hadn’t ever done that together. Wasn’t that something that couples did?

“Yes. I’d like that.” He accepted.

You sheepishly laughed, nodding excitedly.

“I’ll see you then.” You said, getting up from your seat and dashing out of the library.

You had to prepare yourself for any outcome. At least now you wouldn’t spend the rest of your life wondering what could’ve been.

__

Dusk came quickly over Hogwarts castle, faster than you wanted it to. The sky blended into a beautiful canvas of orange, purple, and red. You were sitting on a concrete ledge, your feet swinging over the side. You had been building this moment up in your head all day. You still didn’t even know what you were going to say. How would he react? What if it totally destroyed your friendship?

There were too many unknowns that you just didn’t want to deal with if you didn’t have to.

The courtyard was surprisingly quiet for a Friday evening. Usually there were all kinds of students spread out around it. You took that as a blessing though. At least now there wasn’t anyone around to witness your possible rejection. Soon after, you spotted Severus entering the courtyard. He was walking with his head lowered slightly, per usual. However, he seemed to be standing a little taller than he usually did.

“Hi, Severus.” You greeted.

He was lovestruck at how beautiful you looked in the golden hour lighting. Your skin glowed and your eyes sparkled with perfection. He just couldn’t understand how anyone could feel this strongly about someone. He often wished that you were trained in Legilimency so you could read his mind every time you saw him.

That way you’d know how he felt about you. He thought that he made his feelings clear over the last few years. He was obviously interested when he had conversations with you or even when he was in your presence. You were the only person he helped with Potions or any class for that matter. He had laid his feelings out on the table in the only way he knew how. Couldn’t you see how his heart yearned for you?

“You look wonderful.” He said as boldly as he could, taking a spot next to you.

You smiled for the thousandth time that day, thanking him graciously. You  looked to the sky, mesmerized by the pretty swirls of color.

“Doesn’t it just take your breath away?” You asked, sighing contently.

Severus replied, but his eyes weren’t on the sky. But you didn’t notice.

“Yes. Every time.” He confessed, his black eyes on you.

He continued on.

“I wasn’t aware that you watch the sunset often.” He stated.

You shrugged.

“I don’t do it every day. Just when I have time for it.” You explained, gaze still fixed on the sky.

He nodded in understanding. He thought about how you were a lot like a sunset. Beautiful, comforting, calm, consistent. He knew he could always count on you to show up for him. He loved that. He was close enough to you that your shoulders were almost touching. If he paid attention, he could feel body heat radiate off of you.

“Did you have a nice rest of your day?” He questioned.

He was always so curious to hear about your day. Every aspect of your life fascinated him. You liked that he always cared about the seemingly small things.

“I did. I managed to finish all my homework. I’m tired of having weekend work.” You laughed.

He laughed as well, a soft, calculated sound bubbling out of him. You felt your nerves begin to rise back in your belly. You had to do this while the moment was right. You had to get on with it. Just ask him how he felt...or rather confess your own feelings. You had put this off for far too long.

Take a chance. Just take a chance.

You took a breath to speak, ready to bite the bullet, but he beat you to the punch.

“[Y/N], can I tell you something?” He asked, forcing his hands to stop shaking.

You were stunned for a split second, but recovered rapidly.

“Of course. Anything.” You prompted him to go on.

He looked to his feet, his shyness shining through. He gulped and anxiously pushed his hair behind his face.

“I really like you.” He confessed through a tight breath.

Your brain short circuited. No way. The tables had surely turned. A million emotions crashed over you like a giant, ocean wave. You were flooded with excitement, relief, happiness, and love all at once. Severus went on.

“Uhm a-and not just as a friend. I lov- I like you a lot more than that,” He announced; “I d-don’t want you to be mad at me now, but-”

And then you kissed him, gently and sweetly.

It caught him off guard at first, not expecting that reaction. He took it as a good sign, kissing back before it was too late to do so. He never saw this moment coming, but he was so glad that it did. He had never had a girlfriend before, but he was pretty sure he was going to like it.

You pulled back to look at Severus, who was wildly blushing now.

“I’m definitely not mad.” You smirked.

He smiled softly and contently.

“You like me too?” He asked, wanting to be absolutely sure.

“Yes. I absolutely do.” You nodded happily.

He exhaled with relief. This was more than either of you could’ve ever dreamed of. It was something you had wanted for long that it almost didn’t feel real. He kissed you this time, adoring the feel of you against him. For a moment, your mind went to the conversation you had earlier. You knew one thing for sure.

You would definitely take chances more often.