#one where he explains his plight and help break his curse

[ultimateinferno]

Will I ever expect Nintendo writing a Ganondorf who's trying to break the curse and end the cycle? No. I simply think their faithful adherence to the nature of fairytales about the knight rising up to face evil and save the princess is simply that strong. It's a classic (in the most literal sense cite Perseus and Andromeda). It's why I don't believe in a playable Zelda until I see it with my own eyes.

While the earnest nature of providing interesting spins on this millennia old formula is rather endearing, I would welcome earnest breaks in turn as well. Yet until I see it, I simply won't be holding my breath for when it comes.

[stiricidewrites]

The Damage You Do: ch 25, pt 13

May everyone have a lovely weekend~

This weekend I'm alone (if one can be alone when they have as many cats as me), but my mom is out of town and next weekend my partner comes to visit for a month and a half, so it's kinda a big time for me lol

See you Sunday!

Previously

~

“Uhm…” wwx’s mind rushed around him, his formerly, mostly relaxed state vanishing into the abyss of confused horniness. How in the world did you ask where the crouch of your pants had gone while not breaking a yoga inspired sex scene? “Is… is this part of our yoga routine?”

Behind him, lwj tsked quietly, the sound shuddering through wwx like the disapproval it was. “I thought wy asked that I help him relax, just as I did last time. Does wy no longer remember how I helped him relax last session?”

wwx internally cursed himself for thinking up that part of the story.

“Yoga is just so much more fun and easy with you. Especially… especially after that thing you did last time…”

He had been an idiot to phrase it that way, practically demanding lwj go along with his desire for sexy yoga while leaving the door open for his dom to control exactly what “that thing” had been. Stupid. He’d been too kind to the other man. Yes, he had been trying to be nice—to share the plot of whatever the fuck they were doing between them. He needed to share, especially since he wasn’t supposed to be the one in charge, but currently, all he wanted was to scratch at lwj’s control and demand to know what was happening.

“Ah… perhaps Lan-laoshi would once again explain the specific details and reasoning behind this technique?” he tried, praying that lwj would be nice in return, although he wasn’t particularly surprised when he wasn’t.

“No,” the other man said, laughter singing through his voice because of course the asshole wasn’t going to be nice or even have the decency to not find amusement in his poor, innocent, kind-hearted sub’s plight of ignorance! He didn’t know enough about sex in general to guess at what his dom was planning! It really was quite unfair.

“I explained the why and how of this… technique last time,” lwj told him, words slow and deliberate as his finger circled his hole. “If wy cannot remember, that is not my fault. I will not be repeating myself because of wy’s lack of respect for my words.”

[joyfulhopelox]

Board-shorts and Choppy Waves | KTH

╰►Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

╰►AU: summer love, meet cute, surf, s2l, i2l

Genre: fluff, with a tiny bit of angst

Rating: pg

╰►Word count: 17.6k

Warnings: mild swearing

╰►A/N: This is my contribution to the Summer of Love Collab, a collab i had not intended to be in but it just so happened that i fell in love with the story and i had to write it, the banner really did not come out as I'd planned but such is life! But be prepared for two idiots to fall in love. Where The Holiday (summer version) meets Gidget! I want to thank @notyouroppar for being not only the most amazing person for reading this over for me but also for fuelling my hype! secondly i want to thank everyone in this collab for being amazing and last but not least i want to thank @hobipaint and @yoonjinkooked for helping me get through this and for believing in this Taehyung!

Did I use Umji as inspiration for Ye Won? Yes. Is Taehyung’s surfer squad the almost complete real life Wooga Squad? Yes. That being said, enjoy! 💜

Copyrights for the story and banner @joyfulhopelox

╰►Summary: A city girl through and through, not used to anything but the hustling and bustling of the streets. From people with phones attached to their hands, the only accompanying noise you had on your way to work was the honking of angry drivers. However, even someone with a devil-may-care attitude can be fed up with such a life. In a desperate attempt to escape, you embark on a crazy adventure that leads you to Hawaii - on a surfboard! Living under someone else’s roof, you find that this may not have been the break that you strived for when the annoying brother comes into play. Riding a wave is like riding the subway, he told you, yet why did his hand holding yours feel like riding a rollercoaster?

Between a job that kept you tied to your desk, and a job that required you to run around town, trying to please everyone and their mother with your projects, you would’ve chosen the former. Correction, now you would choose the former one.

As a bright eyed child though, you’d chosen the latter. And somewhere in between trying to meet the producers– your hands overflowing with a stack of papers which balanced a precariously placed cup of coffee, and a video call with the actor’s managers– who had the audacity to request a jacuzzi on set, you were beginning to regret the decision.

“Yes, yes. I got it!” Weaving expertly through the hectic flow of people coming out from the subway, you tried to grip the phone tighter between your ear and shoulder. “No, no, unfortunately we cannot agree to those requests.” Humming in response, your ears painfully assaulted from the other end of the line, you apologised as your shoulder bumped into another and carried on without waiting for a response. As much as you wanted to stay and apologise, you didn’t have the time. If you learned one thing in this job, it was that lateness was not viewed nicely. As a newbie in the field, your punctuality has been subject to disapproval more than once.

“We shall see what we can do about that.” Not bothering to wait for the response on the other end of the line, you ended the conversation thankful for your balancing skills. Phone now added onto the pile, you continued weaving through the flow of people coming your way. Realising you hadn’t checked the time, you urged your legs to go faster, cursing that you decided to wear heels on a busy day like this. No matter how nice they made you feel, a day spent in pain whilst trying to be efficient was not worth it.

The building where your fate was sealed seemed to loom over you. Gazing up at it you swallowed, your throat dry. You knew without conviction you would get nowhere in the industry, and so with new resolve you made your way through the glass doors. Show time.

It only took a few hours for your blood pressure to rise to dangerous levels. Ever since walking through that door, it felt like nothing went the way you’d imagined it to. The meeting that was supposed to start on time was so delayed, you had to postpone the following meeting with the agent representing your newest addition to the cast. The rest tumbled down with the speed of an avalanche. Not having signed up to run around in heels for coffee, and especially not when you were one of the people meant to pitch the new series, your feet were throbbing and your patience wore thin.

The cherry on top of the cake was the call you received at the end of the day from your boss. It wasn’t an unexpected call, but dare you say, untimely. The call was short and sharp, delivering the blows that would ultimately lead to accepting your friends’ invite for a bar night.

The bar where you usually met your friends was surprisingly empty, though you suspected it was because it was the middle of the week. The few groups that littered the area made it easy for you to spot your obnoxious pair of friends. It seemed they were already on their second round of drinks, judging by the number of empty glasses and Georgie’s animated talk.

“I swear that’s what happened!” As you made your way towards the group, you heard Kate declare her ridiculousness with sincerity as the rest laughed at her. With a roll of your eyes, you slid in next to her.

“What did I miss?” You cheerfully interrupted their storytelling, sharing ‘hello’s’ with them and the obligatory catch up of mundane stories.

Taking a careful sip out of your drink you silently observed the ruckus they created around the table, their cheerful loud voices making you smile inwardly. You missed this.

“So, Y/N, how is that promotion going for you?” Georgie leaned over the table, seemingly to make herself heard over the loud music. Yet, by the suspicious raise of her eyebrows you were aware of what she had been implying. Your almost-fling with your boss.

“Georgie – no.” You shook your head, your attempt to shut down the conversation a poor one at best. “We are not going there.” Taking another sip of your drink you tried to come up with something to deter them from prodding further.

“Oh come on!” Kate insisted, her eyes wide. “You live like a prude married to their work most of the time,” She waved you away when you tried to poke her. “The one time you aren’t and you have a small chance at dating!” She exclaimed and you reached out to cover her mouth.

“Shush it, will you? Any louder and everyone in the bar will hear about my dating plight.” You argued back, frustrated with the situation you’d landed yourself in.

“-He’s my boss.” You countered, knowing full well that if you didn’t explain at least part of your reasoning, there was no way this would end. “Plus –“ you held out your hand to stop them from interrupting you. “He already has a girlfriend.” You took another long sip of your drink, satisfied with the way their faces dropped.

Georgie, to her credit, decided to keep her opinions to herself, occupying her time with swirling her own drink around. However, Kate, whom you’d known the longest, stared at you, eyes narrowed as if trying to figure you out.

“So what was that dinner about then?” She prodded further and you sighed, dramatically lowering your glass onto the table.

“Look, that dinner–“ You leaned forwards fixing them both with your gaze, a small smile forming on your face. “Was definitely about a promotion.” You said conspiratorially.

Unprepared for the joyful hoots from your friends, you leaned back as they both scrambled to hug you. They had been your best friends since college and they knew you better than anyone, especially the struggles you had to go through to even break into the film industry and get the position you were in now. Let alone a promotion.

By no means were you in a bad position, it definitely kept you in the city, and you could afford a good two bedroom apartment near Central London. but remembering the way you had to run around for coffee, not being able to refuse tasks left a bitter taste in your mouth. Definitely this promotion would not only open more doors for you, but also allow you to say no. The joy you felt as soon as you got the call earlier that evening washed away the pain of your blistered feet, and with a renewed spring in your step you had gone to the bar to share your good news with your friends.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Kate exclaimed, clapping her hands enthusiastically. “This is amazing, you definitely needed this! How soon will you be filling the new role?” She inquired and your mood dropped instantly, reality washing over you.

Disentangling yourself from her hug, you sighed. “It’s a possibility, it’s not yet certain.” Your voice sounded gloomy, knowing full well that a possibility was not a certainty. “I still have to see this project through.” Tapping your fingers to the side of your glass you continued. “It’s a long few months of waiting now. I have done my job, all that needs to happen now is for the rest of them to do their job.”

Georgie looked at you empathetically, she knew what you meant. She, herself, was in a similar position to you. The silence that followed between the three of you was not uncomfortable by any means. The bass of the music pounding around you kept you company, an unneeded headache. But worth it if it meant you got to talk to your friends.

“So…” She trailed off, her eyes scouring the fuller bar. “What will you be doing now?” Turning her attention back to you, she raised her eyebrows at you. “Date? Holiday?”

The question took you by complete surprise, drink still in your mouth in the midst of swallowing, you struggled to not choke. Kate patted your back, an almost sympathetic look crossed over her face, only to be quickly replaced by a smirk. “No but seriously, Y/N.” Glaring at the both of them for ganging up on you, you shrugged.

“I have no intentions to be dating, and you know that.” You pointed at them, eyes narrowed. “As for holiday…” You trailed off. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had a holiday. Sure, you took your required days off, but you never left your apartment during those days. And to be completely honest, you only used them to catch up on work you did not get to do during the week, respond to emails you didn’t get a chance to, and order the occasional takeaway with a film in the evenings. But even that could count more as work than relaxing. Being in the film industry, you rarely found yourself enjoying a production without thinking about the ins and outs that went on behind the scenes to put it all together. The thought of an actual holiday has never even crossed your mind.

“-I do take holidays.” You weakly argued, but when you met the girls’ eyes you shrugged noncommittally. “Look, I can’t afford to.” You simply provided. That reason seemed to be enough to quieten them both, until Kate jumped up.

“I know!” She exclaimed, her palm slapping the table hard. “How about a house exchange?”

You stared at her oddly, wondering how much she’d had to drink, but she didn’t seem flushed, nor to be staggering on her feet. Instead of insulting her with questions about her sobriety you waited for her to explain herself. “You know, like, the ones where you do it through an agency.” She supplied, but at your furrowed eyebrows she sighed. “Kind of like an AirBnB, but this one is about you contacting a person who is willing to exchange their horse for a short period of time, and you are providing them with yours as a payment.”

At her explanation, your eyes went wide with surprise, your mouth hanging open. “Wha-?” It baffled you, the idea that someone would willingly not only supply you with their house, their sanctuary, but also they would agree to come and live in a stranger’s house. “What sort of scam is this?” You finally settled.

“It’s not a scam!” Georgie jumped in, the tone of her voice betraying her excitement. “My friend did it, and she loved it!” You watched her with a careful eye, trying to decide if both of your friends had had too much to drink. At your unconvinced look, Georgie sighed.

“Look, it’s worth thinking about it, you get to see pictures of the house first, and also talk to the owner beforehand. It’s not like you have no contact with them before you even get there.” She stated, carefully watching your expression turn thoughtful. As much as you enjoyed the idea of being able to live in someone else’s house, without paying too much for it, you had trust issues. You couldn’t just let anyone in your own home, just like that.

“Is there insurance? What about a contract? Will I be able to go anywhere? What if they steal something?” Before you could continue with your incessant worries, Kate interrupted you, a hand on your arm.

“Of course, there is insurance. This is all done through an agency, it is not like you email a stranger out of the blue-” At your unconvinced expression she carried on. “And there is a contract, and background checks, and you do get to pick which place you want to choose.” She breathed a loud sigh. “Look, Y/N, this may be a good time for you to take a break.” She patted your arm as if that would have convinced you that what she was saying was true.

Well, it was true, but they both knew you were a workaholic. It would take more than that to get you to let go of your responsibilities and take care of yourself first. Georgie followed Kate’s suit, her words sealing your fate.

“And you don’t want to date, so this is the best way to make sure that you take care of your own needs first.” Your alarmed expression made her continue. “You need a break, you have nothing else to do but wait, all you will do is worry and fret.” She waved her hand around as if to disperse the worries and fears mentioned.

“And-” Georgie leaned forward as if to share a secret and you mirrored her movement. “Think about it this way, you’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii.” She smirked and you let your mouth drop, her idea already a seed in your mind.

She was right, Hawaii has always been a place you wanted to visit, never having the time or money to do so. This would be perfect for you. Still worried you nodded your head, enough for her to lean back a satisfied look on her face. She knew her job was done, but she couldn’t help but add. “And you never know, you may find your Surfer Charming there.” Georgie wiggled her eyebrows at you making Kate laugh and you narrowed your eyes at her, an offended look on your face.

“Georgie!” You then realised what she implied earlier. “Also, how does dating have anything to do with me taking a break?” You sounded indignant, and the three of you burst out laughing.

It took a few weeks for you to remember this conversation. They had been right, all you did during that period was fret, wait, and call people more than once trying to figure out if everything was going on as planned. These calls earned you more than a few groans and even some rejected your calls after the tenth time you tried to reach them within a day.

Deciding you’d had enough of your own brain, you chanced a look at the website Kate mentioned. The sight of all the reviews made you breathe out easier, of course you were going to head there first, the need to know how legit this whole business was too strong for you to get caught up in the lovely pictures littering the website. Once satisfied with the reviews you then let yourself fall into the hole, sinking in deep, and by the time dinner rolled round you had a few options you were considering as a potential. One in Europe, one in Asia, and one in Hawaii.

You bit your lip, this was one of the hardest decisions you had to make, the idea of doing this frightening. Needing more encouragement, you decided to call Kate once more to get her opinion on it, but before you could hit the dial, something caught your eye. The Hawaii exchange, the person in the bio stated they would prefer an exchange with someone from your own town, boring old London. Scrolling through the pictures once more, the airy feel of the house, along with the art that was tastefully decorating the space drew you in more and more. What sealed the deal in your eyes though, was the last picture, a view of a grand pool, the flowers that were scattered all around the garden giving you the feel of the paradise you craved. In the background the view of the ocean and the waves eased your worries and made your eyes glisten with hope. This was it.

Cursor over the email address, you read the name once more before you smiled to yourself.

‘Dear Ye Won,

I hope this email finds you well. I am writing in regards to the home exchange; I happened to come upon your one and I was instantly drawn to it….’

The morning came quicker than you expected, the sound of your alarm blaring throughout the airy beach house jolting you out of bed in an unpleasant manner. You cursed at the inanimate object for not only waking you up, but for being the reason you had to move out of your comfortable spot under the duvet to turn it off. Deciding your joints were not in pain today was an easy feat, you didn’t crumple to the ground like you had previously and you could turn your head without feeling like your head’s being pounded by a rock.

The flight over from London had not been a pleasant one, the crying child next to you hadn’t allowed you to close your eyes for a second. He was not at fault and you knew that, no one could last unscathed through an 18 hour flight; but, the throbbing headache you sported now was definitely blaming him. To make matters worse, the flight to Honolulu had been delayed enough that when you landed you had little to no time to spare before your flight over to Maui. You’d think that they would have more flights in a day towards such a popular destination, however, you were soon to find out that it was not the case.

Bags in hand, trying to multitask, desperately running towards what you assumed to be your gate, whilst checking the status of your flight as you passed by the information board– it was all a disaster waiting to happen. And when a disaster is waiting to happen, chances are it will. One moment you were skillfully dodging a passerby and the next you found yourself bumping into a solid chest, the wind knocked out of you. Derailed from your goal and with the pain of having bumped your nose into someone’s torso, it took you a good moment to realise what had happened.

“Tsk, look where you’re going.” The deep voice held the annoyance of someone who’d just been through a rough day, and normally you’d do your best to apologise. However, you’d had just as rough of a day and it was still not over, not to mention you were in a hurry. Pleasantries would have to wait.

“I’m late. And you could also look where you’re going.” You simply announced with a huff not bothering to look up, the tip of your nose still throbbing.

“Did I mention anything about your lateness, does it seem like I have time?” The man, judging by the voice, retaliated. You rubbed the tip of your nose to make sure that nothing was bruised before you glanced up, your eyes narrowed as the obvious rudeness of this person. The sight that greeted you was not what you’d expected, and once again, under normal circumstances you would have paused to gawk. He was beautiful, there was no other way to describe him. His light brown hair was quite shaggy, offering him an unkempt appearance, the bandana that tied around his head keeping his bangs from obstructing his eyes. And what eyes, his gaze locked onto yours, the ebony colour intensifying the coldness in them, you found yourself lost for words.

“Well, are you going to move out of the way?” He nodded his head impatiently as if that would simply remove you from his path. With those words, the bubble you were in completely dissipated, reality crashing down on you. You were still late. With a gasp, you didn’t bother responding to him; your grip tightened on your bag and you dashed around him, praying that those few minutes were not wasted and the flight hadn’t left without you.

Now, seated at the counter of the vast kitchen, a coffee cup in hand, you had time to think about the events from the airport. With a pained sigh you admitted to yourself you’d been the one in the wrong, not only having bumped into an innocent passerby, but also starting an argument with them instead of apologising and being on your merry way. You were certain that under normal circumstances you wouldn’t have reacted this way.

“Oh, well…” Muttering to yourself you took a last sip of your coffee thanking the stars the person who offered you the place had enough stocked to last you for a couple of days. Having arrived late last night, you hadn’t had the time to explore the area, let alone think about stocking up on food. To you, it felt like a holiday - and in a way you supposed it was, only you were without the ease of being in a hotel and having a restaurant at your doorstep.

The lack of traffic echoing in your ears felt unfamiliar, the stillness of the house reminding you of a horror film where the protagonist is only seconds away from being snatched. Only, you were not in an old abandoned house. One quick glance around told you a lot about the person that swapped homes with you. Their interest in art and interior design was clearly reflected in the way they had decorated the house. The rooms were wide and airy, yet the abundance of paintings and figurines scattered everywhere made it resemble an art gallery. Walking around trying to familiarise yourself with the house, you decided that this home would be your little piece of heaven for the next month. Especially when you reached the end of the house and stumbled upon a lovely back garden, the fence lined with palm trees and gardenias scattered all around a clear pool. Excitedly, you rushed back to your bedroom for your swimsuit. Exploring the area could wait a few more hours. You were on holiday, and what could be more holiday-esque than taking a dip in a pool, in Hawaii!

Deciding on the first suit that you came across, you debated whether or not you should cover yourself up until the pool, but before you could make a decision a loud thud coming from the front door jolted you.

With your heart pounding, you padded towards the corridor at the sound of a voice yelling “Ye Won! Open up!” as they kept pounding against the wooden door. Aware that it was not your house and afraid for the door’s hinges you ran to respond.

In a rush to get to the door before the person on the other end broke in, you had completely forgotten to cover yourself up. When the thought suddenly occurred to you, it was already too late. You had the front door wide open ready to greet whoever was one the other side.

“Thank God you responded I was ready to break the door- What the fu-” A deep voice greeted you and you couldn’t help but stare dumbfounded at the man standing in front of you. A very handsome man. His ebony eyes and light brown coloured hair looked too familiar for your liking.

“You- the airport- what?” He sputtered pointing at you, rubbing his eyes as if he was unable to believe the sight before him- and what a sight you were.

You felt as if the proverbial rug had been swept from under your feet. Once his words finally registered in your head you realised the promiscuous position you were in. Not only was the stranger you almost assaulted at the airport in front of you, but you were also standing there on display in a bikini. Your attempt to calm yourself down was futile, the adrenaline coursing through your veins giving way to your fight or flight reflexes. And you chose flight. With a shrill scream you didn’t think twice before slamming the door in his face, your heart threatening to pound out of your chest.

“Fuck.” What was he doing here?

You didn’t know how long you spent leaning on the door, heart in your throat, your mind devoid of any rational thought but when another pounding vibrated through you, it broke you out of your daze. Jumping up, you shook yourself off from any theories as to why the stranger you argued with in the airport could be there. Making sure you were presentable, with a trembling hand you reached for the door, hesitating.

“Open up!” With another loud pound against the wooden material that made you jolt away from the door, the man carried on yelling. “Open up or I am using the key, and I don’t care about whatever various states of undress you are in!” His voice turned dark towards the end, the huskiness in it making you shiver involuntarily. You weren’t a pushover, so with the intention to get him straight you swallowed your pride and opened the door abruptly, catching him mid knock.

“What do you want? Who are you and what are you doing here?” Tapping your foot impatiently, you resisted the urge to look at him more than necessary. Just like you did at the airport, you found him incredibly attractive. With his ruffled dark locks - this time tied in a bun at the top of his head, another bandana keeping the strays away from his face. His light coloured shirt contrasted greatly with his slightly tanned smooth skin and the boardshorts he was wearing were giving away a bit too much for your imagination to not run wild on you.

Mouth wide open, he didn’t offer you the same consideration, his eyes raking over your covered form, his intense dark gaze making you shift on spot. Arms crossed around your chest in an attempt to preserve your decency, you narrowed your eyes at him. “You come here, almost breaking the door down and don’t even have the decency to introduce yourself to the person living here?” You asked pointedly, your tone sharp, the annoyance clear in your voice.

“Just as you did when you bumped into me yesterday?” He was quick to retaliate, his stance mirroring yours. No one said anything for a few seconds, the air around you felt charged with electricity as you tried your hardest to not stray away from his dark brown eyes. You cocked an eyebrow mockingly, daring him to be the first one to break the staring match.

“Taehyung.” He conceded after a few more seconds, the weight of your stare too dangerous for his imagination. He had to admit you were beautiful, and the sight of your angered state made you even more attractive in his eyes. Deciding it was a biased opinion, he put it down to the fact that this is the only way he’s seen you up until then. The fiery glint in your eyes accentuated by rosy cheeks from the blood rushing to your face in anger.

Hearing his response and accepting it as defeat, you lowered your arms, a satisfied smirk on your face. But before you could loudly announce your win, he carried on, his response nailing you on the spot. “And this is my sister’s house.”

Eyes wide, you gaped at him. “This is what now?” You couldn’t believe your ears, his words ringing in your head as dread washed over you. “You mean to say, you live here?” You felt the telltale signs of anger readying a harsh email back towards the woman who exchanged houses with you.

Taehyung’s eyes widened, the preposterous idea making him guffaw. “What? No!” He was quick to refute. The clear panic in his voice at the thought was enough to make you sigh in relief, sending a mental apology towards Ye Won. “I’m here to see Ye Won, are you the maid?” He looked you up and down thoughtfully. “She did say she was going to get a maid, but if she’s not home I wouldn’t go around gallivanting–“ He pointed at the shift covering you, “up and down like this.”

With an indignant huff you wondered if Ye Won would be ok with you breaking her brother’s nose. Having exchanged emails with her for the better part of a month, you discovered she was not only a genuinely nice person but also considerate as she made sure to walk you through not only the house’s quirks, but also different customs in Hawaii and things to do to occupy your time. Though, you thought eyeing Taehyung with distrust, not that considerate.

“So–“ Taehyung glanced inside, his height making it easy for him to do so without struggling too much. “Where’s Ye Won?”

Scoffing at him you prepared to close the door in his face. “She’s not here, she’s in London.”

If you weren’t so annoyed at his earlier indiscretion you would’ve laughed at the way his face fell, mouth agape. “What do you mean she’s in London? Then why are you here?” He pointed at you accusingly.

“Look, it’s my first day here and I would like to spend it in a meaningful way.” You threw him a pointed look alluding to his behaviour from earlier. “If you want more details I am sure your sister can give them to you.” You placed a hand on his chest, pausing at the feel of muscle underneath your palm. Shaking yourself out of it, you reminded yourself you didn’t know this person, nor did you want to. “Now if you will excuse me.” You lightly pushed him out the doorway before shutting the door in his face.

“What a character.” You muttered, your thoughts completely taken over by the excitement awaiting you for the day.

“Kate, I’m telling you, it’s all fine. I have a long list Ye Won gave me of things to do.” Phone pressed to your ear, you reassured your friend on the other side of the ocean.

“And?” She inquired and paused hoping for more information from you. When the pregnant pause extended she sighed exasperated. “Y/N! Come on, you’re in Hawaii! What about any hot guys?”

You laughed at her, only for your thoughts to drift to the ponytailed devil you’ve met earlier. “Mnope.” You drawled, occupying yourself with the flowers in the garden. “Nothing worth mentioning.” At the whine on the other end, you felt the need to defend yourself. “Kate! I’ve only been here for a night! There is no way I could’ve met anyone in this amount of time. And also–“ you raised your voice trying to mask the blatant lie you just told her. “I am not here to meet anyone. I am here to relax.”

Kate snorted, the thought of you and relaxation in one sentence amusing to her. “You mean you will actually not think about work? Check emails? Fret about details?”

“Shhh, I know what you are trying to do.” You laughed at her ridiculousness. “Yes, I will rest. And no, I will not be hunting any men.” You added ending the call before she could speak her mind about your personal choice of staying single.

On second thought, you had absolutely no clue what you wanted to do. Going over the list Ye Won so kindly provided for you, you felt overwhelmed. It wasn’t that you weren’t any good with lists, you lived for them, your job relied on them more than you cared to admit. This list though, entailed you relaxing and having fun, two concepts which you’ve rarely experienced since leaving university.

“Not this,” your finger skimmed over the list, making a mental note to ask Ye Won what exactly did ‘going mental at the Sailor Jerry Festival’ meant. “Aha! Beach!” You exclaimed, face lighting up with excitement. “I know how to do that!” Glancing underneath the list of beaches your eyes caught her suggestion of what to do on said beaches. “Should I–?”

Smiling lightly to yourself, you nodded. Surfing. Look for Hyung Sik. Giddy at the thought of doing something out of the norm, you imagined what Katie and Georgie would say if they knew. Gathering your things you decided it was worth a try, if only to get yourself familiarised with the area and walk to the beach. Well, surf’s up I guess.

The road to the beach was littered with stalls ready to exhibit the best of what Hawaii had to offer, and you spent more than you had planned just in awe at the multitude of colours around you. The music and the atmosphere surrounded you fully, and you happily immersed yourself in the experience. For the first time in forever you felt free, the breeze coming from the ocean soothing your worries.

After a journey that took you an hour longer than intended, you reached the beach, your eyes scouring for the hut Ye Won mentioned. Past the showers, down towards the Surfer’s Den bar, you tried to remember the instructions written on the paper. Feet buried in the soft sand, your eyes wandered towards the way the soft waves broke as they reached their final destination, the music of the sea lulling you into a daydream.

“Yo-” The sound of someone yelling broke you out of your daze and you craned your neck to catch a glimpse of the source. “You’re gonna run into the tables.” Finally spotting the man waving at you, you stopped, your brain registering what he was trying to tell you. Looking around confusedly, you realised you were a few centimetres away from slamming into one of the tables that belonged to the bar.

“Oh,” squinting, you waved back to the man in thanks when your eyes caught the sign above his head. “Surf’s up.” You mumbled to yourself before your eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh! This is it!” You quickened your pace, hoping to reach the hut before you had the chance to change your mind. The man had his back towards you now, too preoccupied with a surfboard, the sheer size of it making you gulp.

“Uhm, excuse me.” You tried, your voice cracking. You didn’t know why you suddenly turned shy, you were used to talking to big names, people who could eat you for breakfast, you never faltered once. Why were you all of a sudden becoming a wallflower?

With new resolve, you tried again, your voice a notch higher. “Excuse me, are you Hyung Sik?” You asked as the man suddenly turned around, almost clocking you in the face with his elbow.

“Oh shit, I'm sorry.” He apologised, seeing your disgruntled expression. “No bubs, I’m not name’s Woo Sik.” Your heart sighed in relief at this, you could come another time, you promised yourself. But before you could turn around and run for the hills like you’d planned to, the man carried on, crushing your escape plan. “But he’s inside, I can bring him out for you.”

You wanted to tell him no and that it’s okay, but before you could utter a word he had already gone back inside, coming out with another person behind him. Wait. Another two people behind him. Were all the guys in Hawaii this hot? You questioned, the sight of their handsome faces making you freeze on spot.

“Here she is.” The man you spoke to before, Woo Sik, turned to one of the men following behind him. You assumed him to be Hyung Sik and you turned towards him, prepared to stick a hand out in greeting.

“Oh shit man, she is beautiful.” The man exclaimed and before you could decide whether you were flattered at the compliment or alienated by the thought of them talking about you behind your back, he rushed towards you, and pulled you into a friendly hug.

“Welcome to Surf’s up. I’m Hyung Sik, I’m assuming you are looking for a teacher?” He let go of you, hand still on your shoulder and you raised your eyebrow at him.

“What makes you think that, I could just be–“ you glanced at the sign behind him that read boards for hire. “Looking to hire a board...”

Hyung Sik looked you over for a second and you fought the urge to squirm under his gaze. “No offence bubs, but you look like a city person. We had one of them once,” he turned towards his friends and chuckled, “he’s a pro surfer now but, man, you city bros are so easy to read.”

The comical way in which he threw his hands up in mock frustration made you burst out laughing. You knew you should’ve taken offence at what he said, but you couldn’t find it in you. He seemed too genuine in his opinion for it to be an insult. And it’s not like he was wrong.

“Right, yes, I am looking for a teacher.” You nodded, sheepishly.

“Well bubs, I would love to be yours, I have a feeling you’re a cool one, but unfortunately I have some business I need to take care of.” He sighed dramatically.

“Oh don’t I know that.” You laughed, preparing yourself to leave once more, the hope in your heart rekindled. If he was busy you would definitely have to come again later. “Well– Ye Won’s suggestion will have to wait then.” You spoke to yourself.

“Ye Won.” The man whom you haven’t been introduced to spoke, eyes gleaming with surprise. Hyung Sik let out a loud laugh at his friend’s obvious behaviour. The man was handsome, his crooked smile and short hair giving him an air of youth that you deemed attractive. But judging by his reaction, he was already spoken for so with a shrug you nodded.

“Hush man,” Woo Sik laughed, slapping his friend over the back, the sound of it making you wince. “This lovesick fool is Seo Joon. He may be handsome, but he’s a tool.” He filled you in.

You laughed, your eyes tearing up. Between your pearls of laughter and the men’s bickering you missed the new addition to your group. “Don’t worry, I deal with tools more than I care to admit.” You winked in Seo Joon’s direction, your eyes catching sight of the man behind him. “Speaking of tools- Taehyung“ you muttered rolling your eyes. The men looked at you confusedly, before said man made his presence known.

“Y/N. You're stalking me?” He took a step towards you, the smirk on his face infuriated you.

“Perfect timing, Taehyung.” Hyung Sik wound his arm around Taehyung’s shoulders. “You got a new student.” He looked at his friend pointedly, and you had a feeling it was not a request as much as it was a command.

Taehyung prepared himself to object before you stepped in. “Oh no no, it’s ok. I can come back another time.” You tried to escape out of it, the prospect of having Taehyung as an instructor was not sitting well with you.

“Nonsense. He may be an ass, but he’s the best surfer we have.” Seo Joon smiled at you reassuringly before he lightly kicked his friend in the shin. “Stop staring.” He said amusedly, bringing your attention back to Taehyung.

“He may be a good surfer.” You said unconvincingly, “but that doesn’t make him a good teacher.” You shrugged at Taehyung’s now offended expression.

“Ohhhh I like her, can we keep her?” Woo Sik laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulders making you blush.

Taehyung looked pointedly at his friend’s arm around you before he grabbed your forearm and pulled you to him. “Fuck off Woo Sik. I’ll show you a good teacher.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you away, marching towards the side of the hut, you in tow. His friends’ laughter and teasing comments from behind were not lost to your ears. “Careful Taehyung, you may end up drowned in the ocean.”

“Right, first, you need to-” Taehyung started, only to realise he had been speaking into thin air, your form already ahead of him, ready to reach the water. “Oi!” He yelled after you, the panic settling into his heart. The waves were too dangerous for you to get in there straight away. Sprinting he ran as fast as he could, grabbing your shoulder right before you could reach the edge of the sand. “What do you think you are doing?” He huffed, trying to catch his breath.

Looking in between him and the water confusedly, you pointed at it as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m uh, taking a dip?” You stared at him, eyes narrowed. “What do you think you’re doing?” You pointed at him, his shirt having unbuttoned after his mad sprint. You would’ve lied if you said it wasn’t distracting, the sight of his collar bones drawing imagery in your head you didn’t wish to have.

“Hyung Sik gave me you as a student, and we are going to learn how to surf. And this” he pointed at you, giving you a chastising look as if you were a petulant child, “is not how you do it.”

“Did I agree with you being my teacher?” You huffed, the idea of being alone with him, in water not sitting well with you. “You can learn how to surf, I will just enjoy my time swimming until someone else is available to teach me.”

Taehyung stared at you, your stubbornness shocking him into silence. “Y/N, you’re a bore.” He shrugged and you gaped at him, offended by what he was implying.

“I am not!” You almost stomped your foot, only stopping yourself when you remembered you were a grown adult not a child. “I can have fun, thank you very much.” Taehyung cocked his eyebrow, the unconvinced expression on his face spurring you on in an attempt to defend yourself. “I once went rock climbing!” You proudly declared, hoping that this would be enough to redeem yourself. You didn’t know why you felt the need to prove him wrong, but the impulse had been there ever since you met him.

“Oh, right. And let me guess, you’ve never done it again after that?” He teased you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Feeling the need to defend yourself you almost lied, ready to tell him that you had done it multiple times after that, but in reality you knew it was not true. So with your head slightly lowered you mumbled a response.

“Ah, I knew it. Tell you what?” He proposed and you looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat. The way the morning sun caught his brown eyes, making them sparkle, made him look devilishly handsome in your eyes. If it was not for his attitude, you would have probably went for Georgie’s advice and tried to flirt, but this was a hopeless case. “I will make you lose that stuck up city shell in a couple of days.” He proposed, the smug smile on his face egging you on.

You didn’t know what possessed you to agree with it, it may have been your desire to prove him wrong, it may have been your guilty pleasure of being near him, but you readily grabbed his hand and shook it, sealing the deal.

“Fine. Now-” You looked at the ocean, the prospect of being on them on a plank making you gulp. “Where do we start?” You glanced at him, the defiance replaced with uncertainty. You were out of your element, and you were ready to admit that.

Taehyung stifled a laugh at your constipated expression, his heart warming at the thought of you placing his trust in him, regardless of your previous encounters. “Not here, City Girl.” He winked, his hand still in yours, he pulled you further in. “We need to get you used to being on the board first. And those waves will do nothing but swallow you whole.” He pulled you towards the sand, his board already placed on it in position.

“Oh so you are not putting me on a plank in the sea like pirates do huh?” You jokingly nudged him, shoulders more relaxed at the thought of being on land for the time being. Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh at your joke and as he motioned for you to stand on the board he added.

“Nah, we only make you walk the plank as an experienced surfer. For the moment you are a swabby.” He nudged you with his shoulder, making you lose your balance. “Oh lord, we need to work on that.” He sighed and you whined indignantly.

“I was not prepared! I swear my balance is better than that.” Trying to prove him wrong you went to get yourself back into position, only to miscalculate how soft the sand underneath your feet was. With a loud yelp you hurtled towards him, hand barely grazing his shoulder in a futile attempt to steady yourself, and you landed painfully on your knees. Mortified at having displayed such graceful behaviour in front of him you groaned.

“Told you.” Taehyung smiled at you and offered his hand to help you up. Pulling you back onto your feet, you steadied yourself and before the smell of him combined with the scent of the beach could throw you into a daze, you stepped away from him with an awkward cough.

“So what do I do?” You could have cursed yourself for sounding so shy, but the nerves that were piling ever since you arrived at the beach got the better of you. Smirking at you, Taehyung pulled you back onto the board.

“Well, now that I’ve witnessed you fall for me once, let’s work on your balance.” Gaping at his brazen attitude you bit back a snarky remark, settling for cursing him under your breath as you deliberately stepped on his feet.

The rest of the day, you spent in agonising pain, your feet on the board and the sun beating down on your back, your mind muddled with thoughts of the man who happened to have lost his shirt due to the heat, as he put it.

“So we are done?” You couldn’t help but blink at him in gleefulness. The prospect of being near him for longer than necessary made your heart beat out of your chest.

Taehyung laughed at your hopeful expression, undecided whether the small bursts of happiness he felt were because he was just about to burst your bubble or if it was something else.

“Oh no, this is not a one time lesson.” He picked up the surfboard, his warm hand on your naked lower back pushing you towards the ocean.

“We are going to be here for a while.” He smiled at you innocently, and your breath caught in your throat as he leaned down, his breath fanning over your face with a carefree expression. “Every day.” Oh shit.

The morning came too quickly, and you struggled to get yourself out of bed. The prospect of getting more bruised and battered than you were already was not an incentive. Thinking of the previous days of activities reminded you of the man that promised you a fun week. Taehyung drove you up the wall in more ways than one. Half the time you didn’t know whether you wanted to throttle him or kiss him; his demeanour giving you whiplash every time you argued with him. You couldn’t say you had a normal conversation with him since you’d met. First, the airport where he more than readily called you an asshole, then his first appearance at his sister’s house when he called you a maid. The tip of the iceberg were the surfing lessons he’d been roped into by his friends.

Lessons where he insulted you and your skills, whilst his hands were resting on your naked skin, as he tried to steady you on the board. Remembering how his slender hands held you by your naked waist as he barked at you to hold yourself up all but made you groan in frustration. How could such an attractive man have such a sour personality? You couldn’t explain it to yourself, especially when his friends seemed to be the nicest people you’d ever met.

Thinking about their interactions, the brotherly link between all of them, the way Taehyung interacted with them, his carefree attitude and boyish smirk as they teased each other about one thing or another - gave you even more of a headache. Seeing him like this made you realise that there was more underneath the front he put up when talking to you, and you would be lying to yourself if you said his blaise attitude towards life didn’t draw you in.

A knock at the door broke you out of your thoughts, and you scrambled to get out of bed, your foot getting caught. Stumbling, you didn’t think twice about the way you looked, or the fact that you had just woken up; you headed straight towards the front door, opening it.

“Are you going to make it a habit to present yourself in the worst ways possible?” Taehyung’s amused tone greeted you and you yelped, the urge to shut the door once more too strong. But before you could give into the impulse, his foot stuck through the doorway and he slipped inside before you could do anything.

Humming quietly to himself, he made his way towards the pool as if this was his own home. In a way you supposed it was. “Uh, want some coffee?” You offered and he waved you off, not bothering to answer as he slipped outside. You rolled your eyes at his behaviour and turned around towards the kitchen for a much needed coffee, but not before you made a beeline for the bathroom to make yourself presentable.

A few good minutes later, most of which was spent in the bathroom rearranging your hair, you made your way towards the back of the house towards the garden. The early morning air, spiced by the fresh smell of the ocean with floral hints from the gardenias in full bloom, made you smile. Your tense posture relaxed as you sipped your coffee. You took in the bright yellows reflecting in the sky, and the pool which housed a bare chested man.

Sputtering, you coughed out your mouthful of coffee, almost tempted to rub your eyes in case what you saw was a mirage made up by your tired brain. What was Taehyung doing in your pool? His back was towards you and you took the time to observe the way his muscles strained against his sun kissed skin. Mouth hanging open you gulped, the sight of his bare back too much for your brain to handle.

You glanced away before you cleared your throat loudly to get his attention. “Care to tell me what you are doing in the pool?” You questioned, your eyes observing the bushes of manfern. You waited for a full minute before you got a verbal reply, the splashing sounds coming from the side an indication of him approaching you.

“Care to tell me who you’re talking to?” He mocked, your stubbornness amusing him. Pushing himself out of the pool as you turned around to give him a piece of your mind was a disaster waiting to happen. Your words caught in your throat, the sight of his bare chest and water dripping down it reminding you of how lackluster your dating life had been until then.

“Fu- You of course.” You exclaimed, your brain struggling to form a full sentence without a swear word in between.

Taehyung enjoyed the way your cheeks flamed red, the sight of your flustered face made him as amused as it did aroused, with the knowledge that he had been the one to make you that way. “Then, is there a reason you are not looking at the person you are addressing?” He couldn’t help himself, the need to tease you further overweighing everything else. Your reactions were gold to him and he planned to make the most of it.

“Is there a reason you’re naked?” You shot back, your eyes narrowed.

“I went for a swim.” He replied calmly as if you were missing the obvious. “Plus I am not naked, I'm wearing shorts.” He motioned towards his lower half and you couldn’t help but follow his movements, your eyes stuck on his narrow waist and happy trail leading towards imagery you’d rather have not thought of. You redirected your gaze at him, his smirk making you want to clock him in the face.

“Amazing.” You muttered not sure exactly what you may have been referring to. “Now that you are out the pool, can you put a shirt on?” You made a point by grabbing the towel sitting innocently on the back of the lounge chair and throwing it at him. Desperate to change the subject you hurriedly added. “What are you doing here this early? I thought we were meeting at the beach.”

Taehyung struggled not to laugh at your plight and instead he shrugged nonchalantly. “We were, but the waves are wild today. There is no way it’s safe for any of us out there.” He toweled himself and you tried your hardest to keep your eyes trained on his face instead of his well defined abs. “Thought it would be best if we went rock climbing instead.”

His proposition was enough to make you forget his state of nakedness, and you gaped at him. “Definitely not!” You shook your head, arms crossed in defiance. “Nuh-uh, no way.”

“Why are you being such a sourpuss?” He demanded, hands crossed over his chest and you tried your hardest not to stare. The sunrise was casting its rays over the two of you, causing the sheen of sweat and water clinging to his tanned skin to glisten. His stance did nothing to help with your staring, or your desire to reach out and run your hands over his bicep, if only to prove whether or not his skin was as soft as it looked.

With a hard gulp, you forced your gaze away from his naked chest, praying that he hadn't noticed the way it lingered there for a second too long. Locking eyes with his amused ones, the tick at the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise and you felt yourself flush. Mortified at having been caught ogling at the person you’ve readily declared to dislike. His words barely registered in your head as you bristled, “I am not a sourpuss.” You declared, copying his stance, arms crossed over your chest a defiant glint in your eyes.

Taehyung wondered if you realised that your position accentuated your bikini clad upper body. His mouth suddenly became dry as he tried not to stare at the way your breasts pushed upwards, or think how much the blush still dusting your cheeks made him want to act on impulse and kiss you senseless. As rough and blunt as you’d been until then, he couldn’t deny his attraction towards you, your wit and honesty drawing him in.

“I am just cautious.” You were quick to defend yourself, interpreting his stare as his rebuttal towards what you’d just declared. “I don’t like heights.” You mumbled, your arms dropping to your side, turning your gaze towards your feet.

Taehyung’s gaze softened, a small smile flitting over his face before he straightened himself and with a hard tone he replied, “It’s not that high, and you literally decided to ride waves without a second thought. With this at least you have a harness and protection.” He motioned towards the angry wall of water, its height and aggressiveness the only reason why he decided to forego his lessons for the day. He looked at the waves wistfully; for him it would have been the perfect time to ride. Throwing a glance in your direction he shook the thoughts away. You weren’t ready for this, and if turning his back towards the session meant keeping you safe, then he would do it without a second thought. He wouldn’t let you know though, your clear distaste for anything remotely caring coming from him had been made clear earlier that week.

Sighing you nodded, he was right. Gathering your last bit of courage, you straightened yourself, shoulders square staring him straight in the eyes. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Taehyung nodded at you, the desire to take your hand to comfort you was strong, your quivering lip giving away the nervousness underneath the bravado. To prevent himself from further scaring you away, he stuffed his hands inside his pockets and motioned with his head towards his car. “Let’s go then.”

****

The sight of the tall wall in front of you made you gulp, rampant thoughts of how you were going to fall running through your head.

“You scared?” Taehyung asked, his eyes searching yours. At the discomfort he found in them he smiled ruefully. “You’re scared.” He declared and you huffed at him, puffing your cheeks.

“I am not!” You stomped your foot in discontent, closely resembling a child, and Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh. Realising what you’ve done you relaxed your stance before you slowly nodded. “I’m not good with heights.” You mumbled, admitting this to him made you feel ashamed and you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

Taehyung cleared his throat, berating himself for making you feel self conscious. His intention was to plan an activity that you would not only find fun, but also liberating, not to make you feel inadequate. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with not being good with heights!” He said but you still looked unconvinced. He stopped, his mind trying to find a way to make you feel better. “Ah, did you know I was terrified of water?” At your surprised stare it was his turn to blush. Sharing information not many people knew about him, not even his closest friends, made him nervous.

“You? No way?” Your mouth dropped incredulously. Having witnessed him in the water, you could have sworn he was born in it. “But...you’re so good!” At his sheepish nod you smiled at him, the thought of having knowledge about something so personal to him made you feel warm, a wave of affection washing over you.

“But don’t tell the guys, I’ll never hear the end of it.” He whined and you couldn’t help but laugh at him, the tense atmosphere disappearing into thin air.

“So how did the mighty Kim Taehyung end up loving the water?” You inquired, enjoying the conversation that ensued between the two of you. For the first time since having met him, you spent your time admiring the boyish grin and carefree attitude directed only towards you instead of afar.

****

“Oh my god Taehyung, stop!” You laughed, unable to control your amusement at his actions. Taehyung smiled softly to himself, your laughter echoed in his brain like a song on repeat. Turning towards you with a silly smile he motioned towards the front.

“You ready?” The queue was getting smaller and smaller and you were becoming more and more nervous. Your palms began sweating, and you were certain the feeling of stickiness running down your spine was not just the sun beating down onto your naked back. The encouraging chants in your head weren’t doing a good job of keeping your anxiety at bay anymore and the churning in your stomach was a telltale sign of nausea.

“Y/N, seriously, please stop.” Taehyung grabbed your hands, and you jolted not having realised the tight hold you had on the straps of your bag. Ignoring the warmth of his smooth long fingers prying yours away from each other, you bit your lip, the butterflies in your stomach kicking up a flurry. You could’ve sworn they weren’t there at the beginning, the churning in your stomach feeling different from before. Refusing to glance his way, you kept your eyes locked onto the wire that could be your potential demise. The sight of it combined with the shouts from the people going down was doing nothing to calm your nerves. You didn’t even notice when you allowed Taehyung to interlink your fingers together, or when you gripped his hand tightly in a desperate attempt to ground yourself– but he did.

Taehyung’s gaze flitted towards your hands, the feel of your tight hold on his hand drawing his attention. For a second he allowed himself the illusion of hope, but as soon as he saw the paleness of your skin he quickly acted, afraid you may end up puking before the fun had even begun.

“Come on, we can leave if you want to.” He pulled at your hand gently, the action making you aware of your own deathgrip on his. You let your hand drop, acting as if his touch has burnt you. It may just as well have, the feeling of his warm hand on yours persisted, even after you’d separated.

Chancing a look at the wire and attempting to calculate the distance between it and the ground you hesitated. Your body was screaming at you to turn around, your fear of heights making you tremble on spot. Yet your brain kept reminding you that Taehyung was there, and you wanted to look brave in front of him- if only to prove him wrong. You knew how to have fun.

Hesitating to look him in the eye, you shook your head hoping he wouldn’t be able to read your body language. The urge to grab his hand for comfort was strong, but instead you satisfied it by gripping your shorts tightly. The line moved slowly, and with each step you took closer towards the front you felt the intensity of your trembling knees. Your mouth felt stuffed with cotton balls, and you prayed that Taehyung couldn’t see the way your hands were shaking.

Taehyung observed you for a few seconds, his thoughts at war with each other. On one hand he wanted nothing more than to grab your hand and lend you his strength, on the other, he knew that you would not accept it. Your pride was too strong to accept any consolation from him. However, when he caught sight of your hands almost ripping the pockets of your shorts he made a quick decision to reach out for your hand once more, his strong grip not allowing you to pull away from him even if you wanted to.

Not like you wanted to, as soon as you felt his fingers intertwined with yours, you gulped. Your first reaction was to pull your hand away, but the way his thumb absentmindedly drew patterns on the inside of your wrist made you pause. Was your pulse raised because of your fear of heights, or was it something entirely different this time?

Your fretting thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a cheerfully familiar voice shouting both your names from across the road. “Yo! What are you doing ‘round these parts?” You turned around to face Seo Joon, surprised to discover the question was aimed at you instead of Taehyung. Confused as to why he’d address you first, you pointed to yourself questioningly.

“Yes, you.” Seo Joon laughed. “This loser’s quirks don’t phase me anymore.” He motioned with his thumb towards Taehyung, whose face resembled a perfect picture of a tomato.

Before an argument could break out between the two friends you readily replied, “I uh, Taehyung decided that the waves are too dangerous today, so he brought me here instead.” You shrugged, not meeting Seo Joon’s careful gaze. You didn’t know why, but the way he stared at you made you shy away. He was a handsome man, and you thought that from the beginning. Not like any of Taehyung’s squad was anything but handsome, but Seo Joon’s good looks paired with his wit made you think of him more than the rest.

Your attention focused on the tips of your shoes, you missed the way the two men glanced at each other. Seo Joon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Did he, now?” He wondered thoughtfully. “But the waves are perfect for a ride today, this sort of aggressiveness,” he stressed out the word and you looked up at him. “Is perfect for a surfer.”

With a cocked eyebrow in Taehyung’s direction, your lips curled into a smile as you turned back to reply to Seo Joon. “Oh, well, he clearly needed a break today then.” You wiggled your brows at him, mocking Taehyung’s habit of dipping out of training and his usual lateness. Leaning towards Seo Joon you whispered loudly, intended for Taehyung to hear. “Do you think he used me as an excuse to get out of it today?” You laughed when Taehyung sputtered in protest.

Seo Joon laughed along with you, the meaningful gaze towards his best friend not lost on you. “Ah, I don't think that is the case Y/N, late as he is, that boy lives riding those waves.” He pointed his thumb towards the ocean. “You should see him and how grumpy he is when we get choppy waves.” He laughed, this time it was his turn to wiggle his eyebrows at you. “I think he had something better in sight this time though.” He winked at you, and you felt the blush returning with furious vengeance. “I wouldn’t blame him.”

You knew what he wanted to imply, but the small glimmer of hope and warmth that took roots in your heart was quickly crushed by Taehyung’s rebuttal. “Don’t get ahead of yourself man, I may be able to ride the waves, but she can’t.” Before he could continue his phone beeped and he excused himself to take it.

You glanced after him, your wistful gaze making Seo Joon smirk as he elbowed you. “Don’t take him seriously, these waves are perfect for you to learn. He’s just a worrywart.”

And just like that, the warmth took hold of you once more, and you smiled hesitantly at him. “Well, if he is such a worrywart, why take me to this place knowing full well I have a fear of heights?” You shrugged, remembering where you were, the thought of hanging above ground only secured by a wire making you shudder with anxiety.

Seo Joon eyed you suspiciously and opened his mouth to say something else but before he could say anything, Taehyung clapped a hand on his back, phone in his other hand. “Ye Won asked about you.” He shrugged as if he was talking about the weather. However, the glint in his eyes and the way Seo Joon blushed made you think there was more to it that met the eye. Looking between the both of them questioningly, you decided to keep your opinions to yourself.

“Right,” Seo Joon awkwardly laughed, “it’s time for me to hit the waves.” Ducking away from Taehyung’s arm, he waved at you and did his signature handshake with Taehyung. “Oh–“ He turned to glance at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “To answer your question, maybe he just wanted to hold your hand and couldn’t find a better excuse.” He winked at you, disregarding the blush that took over your cheeks with a vengeance.

“Yo, what are you telling her?” Taehyung narrowed his eyes, prepared to clock his own friend if needed. He knew that Seo Joon had nothing but respect towards you, but the furious red that coloured the tip of your ears made him doubt the relationship the two of you had.

Seo Joon rolled his eyes at his friend’s possessiveness over you, and with a well placed slap landed on his back he loudly stated, “That you need to man up. Oh… and remember to tell her about the party Hyung Sik’s throwing tonight.”

“The what?” You glanced between the two, blush subsided, wondering what they had’t told you.

“Our monthly get together. Don’t worry.” He advised when he saw you bite your lip. “Woo Sik will pick you up if this one doesn’t grow a pair.” With that he disappeared as soon as he came, leaving you and Taehyung to deal with a load of unpacked baggage.

The two of you stared at each other in stupefied silence, thoughts running through your head.

“Uh–“ Taehyung mumbled, the panic of having been put on the spot by his friend rendering him speechless.

“Don’t worry, Woo Sik can come and get me.” You hurried, the heat from your blush refusing to go down. You ignored the way your heart constricted when he didn’t argue against it, and instead pulled you out of the line.

“Yeah, it’s late. Maybe we should call it a day, so you can get ready.” Taehyung didn’t know what possessed him, but hearing you accept his friend’s invite so readily made him feel bitter,

****

True to his word, Woo Sik came to pick you up, his dashing figure clad in a colourful shirt. The bright green contrasted greatly with his baby blue shorts, and you couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“What? Am I not a perfect summer vibes model?” He gestured to himself and you chuckled, shaking your head at him.

“Of course you are.” You stepped around him patting his shoulder as you went, only to come face to face with the man who occupied your thoughts earlier. “Oh–“

Taehyung smiled at you, “Hey.” He greeted with an awkward wave and you were almost tempted to pick on his lack of snark. But one look at his sheepish grin made you pause.

“Hi?” You returned the bashful grin, your heart pumping blood straight to your face, a flush making its way onto your cheeks.

“I uh, came to pick you up?” He motioned towards the car in the driveway. “Well, we did.” He added to your confused expression. “I don’t have a functioning car.” He clarified, hands running through his hair- a nervous tick you’d picked up on.

“He means to say, he totaled it earlier this month, so I'm the designated driver.” Woo Sik shook his head, turning around to walk to his car. “You coming lovebirds?” He added, smirking to himself as he heard the two of you sputter behind him. “I wanna get going before sunrise.”

****

The party involved a lot of dancing, drinking and avoiding each other. Either using a member of the squad or the toilet as an excuse, you managed to not see Taehyung for longer than a few seconds for most of the night.

Exiting through the back into the garden you took a deep breath in, the stifling atmosphere from inside felt too much to handle. The sound of crickets and birds drowned out the sound of the heavy bass coming from inside the house the further you walked away from it.

“Hey.” The sudden appearance of the man you had been avoiding the whole night made you jump and you couldn’t stop the loud curse that slipped past your lips.

“Shit, I'm sorry!” He apologised, his hand grazing yours. There was a brief awkward silence as you sat down on the bench next to him and gathered the courage to speak up.

“Thank you.” You whispered, your hand pulling at his colourful shirt. This time he chose to wear a pattern, foregoing the usual creams, and you were glad for that. Pretending to observe the swirls and shapes on his top you didn’t raise your eyes to meet his. “For earlier.”

Taehyung was silent for a moment, his eyes taking in the scenery. The sight of the unusually calm ocean, baby waves breaking onto the golden shore brought him a sense of peace. He was annoyed that the waves were choppy that day, however, he did it for a reason and that was enough for him. “It’s nothing.” He shrugged hoping he sounded impassive. “You paid for a lesson which I couldn't deliver, it would’ve been a waste of time to not do this.” He shifted in his seat, the drink in his hands suddenly becoming the most interesting thing he’s ever seen.

“O-oh right, yes of course.” He was right, and you knew it, but you couldn’t help the crestfallen look on your face as you toyed with your top.

You were a fool to think that he may have done it for you. How could he, the only reaction you’d shown him since you met was anger, annoyance, and very little interest. Your city girl, devil may care attitude making you act self sufficient. Never once have you considered that it may be a hindrance. The city was ruthless, you needed to be as strong as possible to survive in the midst of a dog eat dog world. Especially in your field. There was no place for weakness. But maybe this caused you to forget the simple joys of life.

However, since coming here a couple of weeks ago; living in paradise and having the chance to discover a life outside of pavements, and the rush of the 8am crowd trying to get to work, you visibly let down your guard. Meeting Taehyung, as much of a rocky start you two have had in the beginning, ended up being a blessing in disguise. Him and his squad showed you what living outside of your head and responsibilities meant - and you couldn’t be more grateful towards them. Especially the handsome man that decided to make it his personal mission to show you what ‘living life really meant’ - as he put it.

Truth was, despite your differences at the beginning, you knew you’d developed feelings for him. Seeing his affectionate side carefully chipped away at your perfectly crafted city girl tough act. Cautiously glancing at him, you took your time to commit to memory his calm and peaceful features, the ocean breeze blowing through his hair. And as you gazed at him, the shining dots from the city around you casting their glow over the both of you, you let yourself admit you were in love. In that moment nothing else mattered, not even the hefty amount of alcohol you drank. In retrospect, it should have been a warning sign, a signal for you to stop and think about your actions.

At the time, you didn’t care, the alcohol merely liquid courage for you to do what you had always wanted to. Carefully taking a step towards Taehyung, you reached for the hand closer to you, fingers brushing over his. As soon as he froze, you did too, your breath caught in your throat, scenarios of him walking away from you running through your head. It only took a second though, for him to alleviate your worries, his hand completing the journey of yours, fingers tightly woven together.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Taehyung breathed and you looked up at him in surprise. You didn’t know whether you said it out loud, or he was a mind reader, nor did you care. Those words were all you needed to hear. With a satisfied smile you bravely pulled yourself closer to him, head leaning on his shoulder.

****

The blissful feeling that wrapped itself around your whole being as you closed the door behind you, felt like a dream. Taehyung’s hand in yours, the two of you giggling like children as you drunkenly bumped into walls, you had never felt so carefree in your life, and you basked in the feeling, somehow aware, in the back of your mind that it may not last forever. But for that night, nothing else mattered but the two of you, and the summer evening was sweetened by the taste of alcohol on your lips.

“Shhh.” You loudly whispered bursting out into uncontrollable laughter when you realised the ridiculousness of the situation. Pulling him all the way into the garden, you settled for the bench behind the main palm tree. A bench where if you say you couldn’t see the sea, but if you dared look up, you could see the stars hanging above your head. Doing exactly that, your eyes narrowed, your whole attention onto the pitch black blanket littered by jewels.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung asked curiously, when you started counting the stars out loud.

“Counting stars.” You stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You should try it.” You turned around with a soft smile on your face as the moon and stars formed a halo around you, giving you an ethereal glow.

“I–“ he ran a hand through his unruly hair, the dark brown locks reminding you of deep rich chocolate. “You are leaving soon right?” He hesitated, the words bitter on his tongue. You couldn’t find the strength to reply, the words stuck in your throat so you settled for a light nod.

The silence that settled over the two of you felt uncomfortable and you shifted, the bench you two sat on making it difficult for you to not lean against him.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, feeling the beginning of a blush wash over you. He felt hot, the smell of sun and sea clinging onto his skin and you wanted nothing more but to bury yourself into his embrace.

Taehyung’s deep inhale brought you out of your own thoughts, finding the heat emanating off of him distracting. “I wish you wouldn’t leave so soon.” He whispered under his breath, making yours hitch in your throat. You glanced at him from under your lashes, only to discover that his whole attention was on the sky above your heads.

“What are you doing?” You blinked at him, throwing back at him his question from earlier. When he turned his attention back to you, the twinkle in his eyes seemed to shine as brightly as the lights above you.

“I’m wishing on a star.” He simply said, turning his attention back to the blanket of stars, completely oblivious to how his words had shifted your world.

****

Following your blissful few days with Taehyung, reality set in with a call that was enough to bring your world to a halt. Everything seemed to be sinking down into the ocean you had come to love. As you stared at your laptop screen, the words you wrote to Ye Won the day before about still sticking around in a hotel for another few weeks felt completely moot. The thought of having to not only say goodbye to her, but also her brother, the man who showed you that life was indeed more than pavements and pay raises, brought tears in your eyes.

It felt too good to be true, and maybe in a way, it was. You lived your summer of love, as brief as it had been, it was time to return to the real world. The words that kept ringing in your head after the call you had with your manager made you fall deeper and deeper into despair. You’re fired, the project fell through. No explanation as to why this would have been the reason to fire you, nor why they were not firing anyone else that had worked on that project, the call ended and left you empty and lifeless.

“Y/N.” Taehyung’s voice reverberated through the corridor as he made his way in and broke you out of your daze. With a sniffle, you wiped the stream of tears that continued to run down your face, but it was a futile attempt as not a second later he walked into the kitchen, catching you mid sob.

“Y/N.” Taehyung was not expecting to come in and find you looking so crestfallen, the dejected look on your face was a spear through his heart. Blissfully unaware of your situation he wondered what happened. “Are you...crying?” He cautiously approached you, not knowing what to do. His instincts telling him to comfort you, he tried to touch your trembling hand but you pulled away from him with such force he had to take a step back.

“I need to go.” You stood up from the counter, your eyes locked onto the clock ticking on the wall. A good reminder that time cannot stand still for you or your fancies. Taehyung’s pained expression did little to phase you, the panic in your heart, as reality began to set in, overriding any other thought or feeling. Despite the blissful weeks you’ve had with him, being accepted by the crew you knew it was time to wake up and realise this was not your reality.

“No.” Taehyung’s determined tone made you falter, and you looked at him eyes wide open in surprise.

“What do you mean no?” You questioned him, the weight of his words hitting you like a hammer to the head.

“You have been the better part of these past few weeks, I can’t let you go just like that. Not after that night. I don’t know what happened to make you change your mind, but it is fixable.” He explained, his hopeful expression making you resent him, and most importantly yourself. You fell into the trap of summer love, where emotions explode. But just like any other explosion, once the debris settles, there is only dust and ruin left. He had done nothing wrong, if there was one person to be blamed, it would be you. It hurt to know you were the one at fault, yet he would also be paying the price for your stupidity.

“Unfortunately my life doesn’t just revolve around you, or Hawaii, or this carefree attitude. I lost my job Taehyung.” You exclaimed, putting the necessary distance in between you and him, the distance that you should have made your heart set as well. “I have to find a job now, and all my life is back in London. This is borrowed time. Not my life.”

“Can you not see me as part of your life?” He pleaded, a last desperate attempt to grasp at smoke.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head, the heaviness that settled over your heart almost suffocating. In fact the sight of him did little to bring any good memories that you’ve had in this place, it only served as a reminder of what you couldn't have. Of what was not yours to take. “I’m sorry, I-” You paused wondering what you were doing, why were you bartering your heart like that. You cared for him, that much you knew yet, your mind knew it wasn’t enough for you to drop what you had known for a whole life.

“My flight is leaving soon.” You whispered, the silence that followed your earlier outburst too much for your guilt to be able to handle. You knew you were damaging a budding relationship, that you dared not think, may have been the best relationship you’ve ever had.

Taehyung didn’t dare utter another word. He couldn’t. He knew you needed to get away, he was more than aware that you needed space, even if that meant he had to watch you drag your suitcases out the door that shut right behind you, putting more and more distance between him and you.

****

“Georgie, no!” You shook your head vehemently at your friend, her pleading face doing nothing to soften your resolve. “I am not going to accept this.”

You quickly paced around the room as you hurriedly unpacked your bags from your trip doing your best to ignore the other person lounging like a cat on your sofa. You’d been away for a couple of days, the old city of Edinburgh being your destination. You may have enjoyed your time there a bit too much given the workload of your new job. So much that you barely had time to breathe. But this was what you needed. Time spent not at work meant time for your brain to start thinking about an island, and waves, and most importantly, surfers. Specifically one surfer.

“Come on, Y/N!” Georgie’s pout almost reached the floor yet you still wouldn’t budge. “It’s been a while since you’ve been on a date!” She tried to reason with you. Unbeknownst to her, this only served as fuel for your rising anger.

“Look Georgie, I have been on a date, and I did tell you about it.” You angrily slammed the dirty laundry in the basket. “And before you say anything, yes I did enjoy myself but–“ you paused, the strength you had earlier waning. Suddenly you felt tired, and with a sigh you let yourself fall onto the couch next to her. Rubbing your eyes, your mind once again invaded by sun kissed skin and the smell of salt, you tried your hardest to keep everything at bay.

“Oh love.” Georgie shifted on the couch, her warm hand enveloping yours in comfort. “I’m sorry, it’s just–“ she paused, offering your desperate look a rueful smile. “I just want to see you happy. You lost your job–“ you started to protest but she held her hand up to stop you. “As I was saying, you lost your job, and lost your heart, and all in the span of two months. And then you come back, get a new job within weeks and act like nothing has happened. I’m just worried about you.” She squeezed your hand and you felt your carefully crafted mask slip away. She was your best friend, if you couldn’t talk to her then who could you talk to?

“I just, I miss him.” The admittance tumbling out of your mouth made you feel so much lighter. Not better by any means, it just reiterated the feeling of hurt and hopelessness. You were more than aware it was your fault you’ve been feeling like this.

“It’s my fault.” You whispered, the desperation causing your voice to crack. Georgie sighed, and enveloped you into a hug, allowing you to hide your wayward tears into her top.

“It’s not your fault.” She argued, patting your back in a comforting way. “It isn’t.”

“But it is!” You sniffed, another sob wrecking through your body. “He confessed for God’s sake! And I left!” Not bothering to hide your sobs, you let yourself go, crying for what may have been, crying for Taehyung and his crestfallen expression when you announced you were leaving.

“Go back.” Georgie simply said and you pulled away from her, an incredulous look on your face.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t want to hear from me again.” You shook your head, your tears at bay for now. Sliding away from her, you put some distance between the two of you and you rubbed away the last stubborn tears. “It’s ok, I can do this. It’s just another hiccup.” You didn’t know where this strength was coming from, but you weren’t going to question it. You were not back in Hawaii anymore, no. You were in London. And you couldn't afford to live the same life you did in Hawaii. Emotions would have to wait.

“Right.” Georgie nodded at you unconvinced.

“Look–“ you sighed, “I will go on this blind date. If only to get used to being amongst Londoners again.” You laughed wryly, the feel of a new resolve making you hopeful. Yet, why did it feel like your heart was shattering even further?

When you agreed to go on a blind date you weren’t expecting to find yourself in front of the Tiki bar in the middle of the city, completely overdressed for the location. Glancing up at the colourful sign you sighed, trust Georgie to set you up with someone you would most likely not click with in the least.

Entering the bar, you tried to not get overwhelmed at the overly done decorations, tempted to stop a waiter, tell them how much you hated the place and leave. Had it been you before London, you may have even done that, but now you swallowed your words and instead approached them for a table.

“What name?” He inquired, tapping on his Ipad and you paused realising you had no name to give them.

“Uh, Y/N?” You tried, but when he shook his head your face fell. How were you meant to find the table without a name? You couldn’t just walk around the whole place asking people if they were waiting for their very late blind date.

“Excuse me, it’s Kim.” A deep voice spoke from behind you and you froze. Not only did you recognise the name, but also you recognised the voice better than your own. You dreamt of that voice. You didn’t dare turn around, not wanting to get your hopes up. Kim was a fairly common name, and London was big, maybe you were wrong.

Steeling your heart, hoping it didn’t jump out of your chest with how fast it was beating, you turned around.

“Hello, I'm Kim Taehyung, I believe I am your date for the evening?” Your mouth fell, eyes wide open and you seemed to have lost the ability to speak. Only when the waiter asked you to follow him did you move, your feet carrying you automatically as your mind was too busy trying to comprehend the situation.

“This place is all wrong.” You heard the mutter coming from behind you and you would have laughed had it not been for the rampant way your heart seemed to be racing. You wanted to turn around, to ask him what he thought he was doing there, but you didn’t have the courage to do so.

Brought to a table near the open windows, you chuckled at the discrepancy between the atmosphere inside the bar and the crisp air of nighttime London.

“It’s ridiculous isn’t it?” Taehyung joined you at the table, his hesitancy to pull the chair for you sorted by the waiter. Still chuckling, you glanced at him, the sparkle in his eyes making your breath catch. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t missed this, the glint in his eyes when his boxy wide smile took over. The mole on the tip of his nose, which you couldn’t see because of the lights in the bar but you knew it was there, having been close enough to him to observe it in detail.

“You’re not a Londoner.” You whispered to yourself and he laughed lightly, having heard you. “What–“ your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, clammy hands wiping themselves onto your skirt underneath the table. “What are you doing here?” You decided to take the bull by the horns, not wanting to waste another minute with mindless chat. The two of you have been through enough to skirt around sensitive topics.

Taehyung looked at you, the smile slipping off his face slowly, until it was gone, his expression becoming thoughtful. You had the urge to poke the crease between his furrowed eyebrows, loathing the knowledge he felt like this. But you chose to stay seated, hands gripping at your skirt, waiting for his response. You didn’t know when he became the one person who could make you or break you, but he did. The power this man had over you was absolutely impressive.

“I, uh–“ he rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish look on his face.

“Better yet, how did this,” you motioned between the two of you “–happen?” If you saw the flash of hurt cross Taehyung’s you didn’t mention it. Patiently waiting for him to answer, you knew you were putting him selfishly in a tight spot. He wasn’t the one who decided to give up on you. It was the other way round.

“Ye Won and your friend may have had something to do with it.” He sighed, his attention to the bypassers across the street. He tried hard to not look at you, he didn’t want to see once more the rejection in your eyes.

Waiting for him to turn around to face you, you stayed silent. You wanted to reach out across the table, his hand conveniently placed for you to grab it. But the knowledge of what he may be feeling stopped you, you had no right.

“But, why?” You stammered, your thoughts in disarray. There was so much you wanted to tell him, ask him, but you couldn’t get yourself to utter them outloud.

Taehyung turned his gaze back to you, the intensity with which his eyes bore through you made you shiver, your breath caught in your throat. It felt as if your soul lay naked before him, and as much as you wanted to look away you couldn’t. For a few seconds neither of you dared to break the silence that settled between the two of you.

“I promised–“ he paused to gather his thoughts, and you waited breath abated. “I promised I would always be there.” He admitted and you let out an involuntary whimper, his words piercing through your heart.

Taehyung gathered all his strength to carry on with his confession, the thought of you rejecting him once again weighing heavily on his mind. Last time he bit the bullet, diving in head on not considering what you may have been feeling, his own wishes overpowering any other considerations. “So I want to be there, regardless of how you want me to be there for you.”

He tried to be as nonchalant as possible, but the pleading look he offered you betrayed the emotional storm he felt inside. His words shifted something deep inside of you. As a city girl born and raised between pavements and tall buildings, you learnt that courage to stick up for yourself was an important survival trait. Hearing him confess his feelings not only once, but twice, made you realise that courage lies in more than one aspect. And you’ve been nothing but a coward.

“I’m in love with you.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. Eyes wide at your own admission you waited for him to say something.

“I–“ Taehyung felt disarmed. He had a long speech planned, he knew you’d not be easily swayed so he came with a foolproof plan, that not only Ye Won may have had a hand in but also your friends. To hear you say you were in love with him, as ecstatic as it made him feel, his brain struggled to catch up with what was happening.

“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. But I don’t think I would've been able to live with myself if I didn’t get this off my chest.” You reasoned. “I was stupid, and inconsiderate, and I’m sorry–“

The warmth of his hand enveloping yours made you freeze, your eyes locked onto the table, unable to meet his. Neither of you said a word for a while, the tropical music playing in the background making you feel uneasy.

“Where is the waiter?” You tried your hardest to change the subject, eyes scouring the place, doing your best to not glance at the dark haired man in front of you. The subtlety with which you tried to pull your hand away from him didn’t go unnoticed as Taehyung squeezed it, his attempt at keeping you there with him.

“Y/N.” The desperate plea in his voice stopped you dead in your tracks, your eyes now searching his instead of a place to escape to. The pain in his eyes made you realise he thought you were planning to reject him once more, completely oblivious to reality.

“You think I am going to leave you?” You breathed out, shocked. Taehyung didn’t reply but he didn’t need to, the frown marring his face was enough proof. You knew it wasn’t appropriate, but the ridiculousness of the situation made you burst out in laughter.

“I just told you I loved you, you idiot.” You huffed, Taehyung’s eyes widening at your obvious annoyance.

“But–“ He stammered, trying to make sense as to why you’d ask about the waiter.

“We should go.” You supplied shrugging while still looking around for the missing person. The relief Taehyung felt at your words could be easily read in the chuckle that escaped him. “I don’t know about you, but I'd rather not cause a scene here.” You finished, and when you still couldn’t locate the waiter you abruptly got up, pulling Taehyung along with you.

“Are you saying this is going to go down with a big emotional confession?” He couldn’t help himself as he teased you, the glimmer of mischievousness you found in his eyes making your heart beat faster.

“Oh shush you, otherwise I’ll leave you here.” You said as you navigated through the tables. There was nothing wrong with leaving before telling someone, but with his hand in yours, the lightness in your heart after your admittance made you feel like you were a teenager about to jump into the neighbour’s pool for a midnight swim.

“Can’t do that,” he teased as you both made your way outside into the chillier London air. Once out of view, he pulled you to him. “You just admitted you loved me.”

Hearing him say the words out loud made your breath catch in your throat. And without a second thought you stood on your tiptoes, your palms resting on his chest for stability. “Well loverboy, I can always take it back.” You whispered, your lips ghosting over his in a shy kiss.

In hindsight, you should have known not to tease him, as the force with which he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you to him, his lips searching for yours took you by surprise. The heat of his lips, slightly bruising, felt familiar, like home, and you soon lost yourself in it. A satisfied sigh escaped you and you let your hands wonder, as he coaxed your lips open, his tongue searching for yours.

The loud whistle from a taxi driving past you made you remember you were still in the middle of the city, out in the open for everyone to see.

“And we still managed to cause a scene.” You laughed pulling yourself away, his hand not leaving your midriff. “Let's go, where are you staying?” You asked, quickly realising you didn’t even know why he was there in the first place.

“The office.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t an important bit of information and you looked at him questioningly. “I uh–, came here for the opening of my new branch. My office decided to extend from the US to the UK which was the perfect opportunity .” The tone of his voice was so neutral you could’ve fooled yourself he was talking about the weather instead of important information which he ought to have shared a while ago.

“You–“ you stopped yourself from chastising him, he could fill you in on this later. For now you just wanted to enjoy your newfound summer love and hopefully help it grow into something more as time went by.

“You didn’t think I only surfed right?” He laughed, his fingers digging into your hip as he glanced down at you. Blushing at his softened gaze you shook your head and mumbled under your breath. “What was that?” He cocked his head to the side, his smile growing bigger.

“Doesn’t matter, you can tell me all this when we are on the tube.” You hurriedly supplied, before looking at him with an impish smile. “Or, we could–“ you stopped walking and turned around to face him. “Just do,” you placed a suggestive hand on his chest, your voice low, “other things on the tube.”

“The tube?” His eyes widened and you laughed reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss him again. Grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze you pulled away and winked at him.

“Don’t worry, it’s like riding a wave.”

main masterlist

[diredove]

Curious Fool

My first time attempting to write anything longer than headcanons, please note I’m going off of this AU! I’m in love with Crowley so I see this as an x reader story, but it can easily be interpreted as something else!

Warnings: Very Mild cursing, Crowley being scary (as in, threatening and a hand squeezing a throat), Me grasping at straws to make Potentially Evil!Dire make sense! Gender Neutral Reader as well!

You wondered about Dire Crowley more than you would like to admit. He was an enigma that your brain for some reason was terribly invested in solving. It started small, maybe because you were holding back your suspicion out of guilt, the man had given you a roof over your head and food to eat in this strange new world, surely he deserved better than you concocting conspiracy theories about him? But gratitude should not inspire stupidity in someone, and it didn't inspire in you.

Why exactly was he being so gracious? For all the pretty words he spoke to you, he certainly didn't act guilty. Every sympathy he offered to your plight felt like it was meant to silence you, "Shush, no more of that." he seemed to whisper between the lines. Yes, it was all too bad you were stuck in a world not your own and that poor, poor Crowley was working himself to the bone to find a way back for you to no avail, but what would you have him do? He's already being so kind.

And that was another thing, wasn't it? He wasn't all that kind at all, or if he was it was only in a backhanded way. Wasn't he just the sweetest thing alive for giving you a place to stay? As if you weren't breaking your damn back every single night sleeping on the couch of the teacher's lounge and waking to the racket of your dearest headmaster starting up that monstrous coffee maker at the crack of dawn each morning! Well, what about the food you were provided every single meal time? Quite generous, he'd say. And you would beg to differ because you had a diet of convenience store sandwiches and children's snacks and sodas! Everything you ate was from Sam's shop and didn't cost that old crow a dime!

And maybe, just maybe, you would have been more understanding and grateful for it given your circumstances, if Dire Crowley wasn't absolutely loaded. He could easily afford to buy you actual meals, put you up some place that wasn't a glorified common room, pay you! But for all his guilt and graciousness, he didn't. It felt like he was trying to trick into being grateful to him when he hadn't actually done anything for you to be grateful for, in the grand scheme of things.

But that's not all. If that had been it then you could have convinced yourself you were being dramatic and gone on with your topsy turvy little life. But no, Dire Crowley simply would not let you rest (on a proper bed or otherwise).

Why did he act like that? You were not someone to turn your nose up at an odd personality, considering how well you were handling being in a potential alternate universe, one might say you have one yourself. But there was just something... off about him. He always seemed a bit too happy, he laughed just a tad too hard, his stares were too intense, he went silent after whatever spiel he'd been on so quick you'd think he had a switch inside him. Alone, those were just the quirks of being human (though you didn't even know enough to call him that either), but they stacked up quickly.

And you had really fought with yourself on this, worried you were being prejudice against him out of paranoia, but then you saw him get angry.

Everyone gets angry, everyone yells sometimes, it's a fact of life and you're an adult who can accept that. But seeing the headmaster shift from harmless eccentric man to inflicting backbreaking labor on teenagers who didn't get to explain themselves at all was rather... jarring to say the least. He yelled in his oddly charming accent and his mask hid whatever anger would have shown on his face, and maybe you were being overprotective of the young ones and forgetting that that type of punishment was far more manageable in a world of magic. But you couldn't shake the feeling that he was holding back, like he was seconds away from sounding like a different person beneath the quirky act. Like a parent putting on a goofy voice to scold their child to keep themselves from letting their frustration show.

But, and maybe you're just dense from here on, all that did was make you squint a little. There was just as much of a chance of him putting up a front as there was of you misunderstanding things and reaching too far. But the seed had been planted, and now you were curious.

So, instead of coming up with crazy ideas you had no backing for, you thought: "Let's just ask."

Not Dire, of course, as if he would tell you the truth or appreciate you prodding him. Thankfully though, there were people close to him that you could interrogate instead.

And then you started hitting walls, thick ones.

"What's Dire's deal?" Seemed like a pretty clear question, so why was every single answer you got so convoluted?

Sam had tried to act unbothered, but you saw how his hand froze as he stocked the shelves of the Mystery Shop. He looked at you with his bright smile and waved his free had dismissively.

"He's something alright, I'll give him that! He's an odd one, I guess you could say! What's with the interest, Starlight?" He answered, though a question for a question hardly satisfied you.

Crewel had outright ignored you, even after you had repeated your question several times he kept maneuvering around you and acting like he was busy. He absolutely wasn't, he had moved the same four beakers back and forth between lab tables three times. Once he realized you weren't going to take his hint and scram, he looked down his nose at you as if you had ruined his entire week.

"You know, puppies that never stop yapping are troublesome. But do you know what's even more troublesome, Little Scamp? Puppies that sniff around where they don't belong. You'd do well to train yourself out of that habit, and quickly." He'd told you coldly, which shocked you into a stupor because you had thought him overzealous but friendly just moments before.

You had hoped Trein, with his unflappability and no nonsense policy, wouldn't beat around the bush and would be the one to change your luck so far. Instead, he averted his eyes and cleared his throat uncomfortably. He seemed to be taking extra care to choose his words, as though they were fragile as glass slippers. Even Lucius looked still in his arms.

"He is a man, as am I, nothing more and nothing less. It is best to leave it at that, My Dear." He implored you gently, you couldn't help but feel this was as close to a plea as the stoic man would ever get. Lucius stared at you unblinkingly, as if trying to determine your answer through your eyes alone.

You hoped the cat couldn't actually tell, because your answer was no.

You still had one more shot. Vargas was loud and a bit much at times, but his love of his own voice would work in your favor. However, you had learned from your mistakes and decided getting straight to the point wasn't in your best interest. If everyone wanted to play with you, it was only right to join the game.

"Please, tell me more about your school days, Ashton! Were you really the star of the Magic Shift team?" You asked in an awed tone, eyes wide.

The coach was eating it up like it was his last meal, you had been stroking the man's ego for over two hours already and if he tells you about the goal that turned the playoffs around one more time you think you'll snap. But his defenses are down, and his lips are loose, so you'll grin and bare just a little longer.

"That's right! I was king of NRC, undisputed! There wasn't a soul on campus who didn't want to be mine!" The man boasted, "Well, except for Beth. She wasn't all there though, not that I cared! She wasn't all that, I'm not bitter about it!"

He's definitely bitter about it, but you don't have time to unpack that when your opening is right in front of you.

"Right right, I totally get it. Hey, speaking of the past, when did you meet Crowley?"

Okay, you lied. There wasn't an opening at all, you burst in with a sledgehammer. But your cutesy act was getting hard to keep up!

Vargas takes the sloppy bait though, " Oh, that guy? He just kinda popped up and offered me a job to be honest. The pays good, so I deal with the old coot being a weirdo."

You have to stop yourself from lighting up, "Weirdo?" You question dumbly, finger on your chin and all.

Vargas looks both ways and then gestures for you to come closer, you can't tell if he's being playful or not with that glint in his eyes.

"Look, don't tell anyone I told you this, okay Dolly? Crowley's got some crazy going on around here, I swear. I don't know details but I've got suspicions." The coach whispers, you nod eagerly for him to continue.

"There's this... room. I don't know what's in it, it's always locked and not even the staff master key opens it. He goes in there every Friday, and I don't see him come out, he just appears again Monday morning. There's this bright light that shines under the door whenever he goes in, and after a few seconds, it stops." Ashton explains, and it's more than you had hoped for.

Creepy locked room, disappearing act, unexplained happenings? This is exactly the dirt you've been looking for!

"He thinks he's being sneaky about it, but I caught on, see? I was following him to ask about a some paperwork and I saw it. I know somethings up, Crowley is up to no good and I don't care how crazy I sound." Ashton stresses, as he goes on he seems more serious, you can't take time to be happy about your findings because he looks so pale.

"Vargas, are you oka-"

"Listen Dolly, I know you're curious, but you don't want nothing to do with this and neither do I. Freaky shit is going down, and if you're smart like me you'll act like you don't know a thing."

You stare at him. H-Had he been on to you the whole time?

"I'm trying to help you, stay away from the west wing and don't-" He stops. His eyes are on something behind you.

"V-Vargas?" You call, shakily.

"I've said enough. Stay outta the west wing, Doll. For your own good."

You don't stay out of the west wing.

In fact, you deliberately seek it out. Ace gives you a funny look when you ask him, but he points you in the right direction anyway. You wish you were more embarrassed about being a member of staff asking students for directions, but you've got bigger fish to fry.

You know this isn't smart, no matter how harmless the headmaster may seem, no one likes being found out. But your life is in his golden-clawed hands and you'd feel even less smart following him blindly and hoping you're safe with him.

The west wing isn't what you expected (though to be fair you had been expecting a torture chamber), it's an entirely normal hall like all the others in school. It's so mundane your face falls. There's also no way to tell if anything is amiss from a glance alone, so you'll have to use less tact than you were hoping to. Making your way down the hall you turn each knob one by one to see which won't turn.

After about twenty or so doors, curse the long hallways in this college, you see one that's quite out of place. It's at the very end of the hall, how cliché, and while it is the same size and color as all the others, it's surrounded with a ridiculous number of portraits. There are big ones above the doorframe and little ones squeezed into the narrow spaces along the sides of it, and if that wasn't enough, the ones that wouldn't fit in either spot were enchanted to float nearby. And the portraits themselves are nothing like the silly but sweet ones that gossip as they watch over everyone who passes in the main building, these are painted with snarls and angered eyes. Both human and nonhuman beings are depicted, each one staring straight at whomever would stand in front of the door. Their eyes seem to be looking in every direction at once even though their pupils are painted straight ahead, it feels like they can see everything without shifting their gaze. You can't even tell if they're alive like the others, they're so... cold.

You take a deep breath, that must be it. You've come to this far, and you'd planned everything so carefully there was no reason to be afraid. The students were having Magift practice today, so that meant Vargas was busy, but it also meant that Crowley was doing his rounds and would stop to "give the players some good old fashioned encouragement ". He would go on forever, there was plenty of time for you to investigate and cover your tracks before he ever even wondered where you were.

You could admit the only person you were convincing was yourself, but it helped you forced your legs to move toward the end of the hall. Even as you walked closer, you knew you shouldn't, the air around you seemed like it was trying to force you back, oppressively pushing you with every step you took towards that door. You wouldn't be able to open it, Ashton had told you already, what exactly were you gaining, being stared down by the lifelike yet lifeless portraits as you neared the door? Nothing, and yet your hand grabbed the knob impulsively, you hadn't realized you'd been holding your breath until it left your lungs in a rush at the touch of icy cold iron in your clammy grip.

You shouldn't have touched it, you shouldn't have, now what? Your plan was to turn back after your curiosity was sated, but you couldn't. The force that was pushing back against you before was now pulling you forward, beckoning you. The portraits no longer looked like a warning, but an invitation. You've come so far, now come a little closer, something that wasn't a voice nor a thought breathed around you.

You twist the doorknob, like a fool.

It turns.

Your heart leaps with excitement and fear, and you feel a surge of adrenaline run through your body. You can go in, you can go farther!

You feel yourself smiling widely even though you're sure you're not happy, you go to push the door open just a little further.

You stop as four pinpricks upon your throat flare with pain, your eyes go wide like a deer and you freeze.

"Crewel was right, you're truly nothing but trouble."

The voice sounds familiar, and yet nothing like the person it belongs to. But you'd know those gold-tipped fingers anywhere.

"I really am getting on in years, to make such a mistake." Dire sighs, his voice does not lilt and his tone is low. He sounds like an actor who's given up on staying in character.

You catch a whimper in your throat when the hand upon it slides up the front of your neck to grip under your chin and rear you head back at a terrible angle. You meet the dead-eyed gaze of Crowley's mask as he looks straight down at you.

"But you've made an even bigger mistake, Youngling, by testing me."

You want to apologize, or plead for your safety, because the man looming over you is not the one you've grown reluctantly fond of. But because we have established that you are a fool, you say instead:

"Your vest is a mistake. There's sequins on it." You snark weakly, you sound pathetic, half because of the grade school insult and half because you're gasping for breath.

Dire stares down at you blankly. Then he grins, not his usual one full of jolly cheer, but a wide toothy one that is just a few degrees off from a sneer.

"Oh, you really think you're just the cutest little thing under the sun, don't you?" He asks, he chuckles halfway through but it's dry and dark.

Why are you so foolish, why do you speak?

Abruptly, the pressure points on your neck are released and you fall to your knees, gulping sweet sweet air.

"Well you're right! You're just adorable, thinking you could catch me out!" Dire shouts cheerfully, hands on his hips and accent back in full swing. His façade is back in place like it was never gone.

You stare in disbelief.

"You know, anyone else would have to be put under a curse of eternal silence for snooping around like you did." He continues, "But I am so very kind, I'm going to let you walk out of here without laying a finger on you."

You shakily get to your feet, leaning against the wall for support and as something to curl in on to cower from the overly happy man before you.

He stares at you smiling for many moments too long, you know he's trying to scare you and you're angry at yourself for being so. Abruptly, he nods.

"I'll be off then, I'm sure you get the message? Of course you do! Make your way back to your room then, off you get! Goodbye!"

The man walks away quickly, waving his hand in farewell.

He left you without a fight, with the door left unlocked and you still in position to reveal what was on the other side. You balk at the obvious show of his power over you.

He knew you were too terrified now, he knew you would obey him like a dog told to stay, the smug bastard.

You bite your lip in frustration and confused tears fill your eyes. You just want to know what's going on, you just want to go home! Nothing makes sense.

You look at the door that's slightly ajar.

Then at the exit of the west wing across the long hall.

You can no longer hear Crowley's footsteps.

And because you are a fool, and because you are defiant, and because you want some semblance of control, you make a mad dash through the door before you can change your mind.

[sammyboiocs]

forget-me-nots, wilting in my garden

A writing piece from an alternate reality where my eah fankid Benicio figured out the way to stop the curse on Verona would require a sacrifice, and gave himself away for the lives of his loved ones. This was a prompt passed around between I and other R&J fankids, and I’ve only just realised I never uploaded my piece :]

This is what he wanted, exactly what he was looking for. Through years of searching and desperation, combing through tombs and sneaking through archives. No scolding nor slap dissuaded him from his efforts. The school librarians' side eyes or prying professors couldn’t convince him. Not the countless paper cuts winding his fingers or the cool ingrained press of an old key in his palm.

He found the answer, the cure, the saviour to his loved ones' plights. Laying in a small casement at his fingertips, stolen away under his careful grasp with little thought to the consequences. It wouldn’t matter once he’s done what he has too, no punishment will ever reach him for the theft. Even still he would gladly take on any repercussion for them, any one of them.

He hopes they will live with his passing, surely they understand the death of one to break the cycle is ever worth it. Malvolia will move on, forever gifted with the years to love Venetta, and her in turn. Marcello will have support from the Capulets no doubt, and he hopes Mal will have it in her to offer him her own as well. They are more alike than they could realise, and he knows they would get along if only given the chance. Lucio will get his time, he will heal eventually. Not taken so soon as his brother. That’s all Benicio can hope for him, all he can hope to give to the young Escalus. He hopes he will accept the gift, if it's the only thing he can offer anymore.

They will have their deserved time. For all her help he hopes Florencia isn’t too upset he didn’t share his final findings with her. It wasn’t a risk he could take, her getting her hands on this ending. He feels guilt for overlooking her before, and really maybe he deserves this. He gave himself so entirely to his story and yet Florencia never got anything but hardship from him, he’s sure. He does not wish for her forgiveness, only her own resolve. 

No more will have to suffer. The only burden he carries is that of his father, who he leaves knowing loss and anger he had only learned before from his own father. He only hopes with his death that his family sees peace, an end to the generations of bloodshed they’ve been forced to witness.

He will be found surrounded by his research, all neatly stacked and organised in walled pillars around him. Sorted between library and archive tombs, old scrolls and his own pile of notetaking. A key rests amongst it all, a small note in hopes Flo or his father will share what it means. Ever organised is it all, helping to clean up his mess even after he’s gone. The broken feather and ink soaked blood are the only regrettable cleanup he dares leave behind.. The bags under his eyes thankful for their eternal sleep.

He did not give an explanation, no goodbyes or warning. He caused no fear in his farewells and left all the clues to explain his doing. Sat cleanly apart from him the journal kept close to his chest. Marcello, Malvolia, and Venetta paint the pages in broad strokes of  joyful memory. Records of fights, and shopping, and sparring, and homework warming the pages so kindly. Ever fleeting are mentions of Sabre and Lucio, of avoidance and subsequent respect of that boundary. Not until the pages of hurried writing of every conceivable memory comprising hallway glances and childhood games scrawled in tears marked in late October. 

By the end it is so clear what Bennie had thought of the world. His friends are where his world starts and stops. For every move they make, Benicio’s world revolves. 

He saw Malvolia in the earth itself, his cousin, his friend. The surety in her stance and the winning draw of her bowstring before the cheering grew wild. He hopes she knows how sorry he is for his selfish abandonment. Bennie has always cared for her, even when trying desperately not to. 

He saw Marcello in the ocean, his roommate, the altering of his worldview. His temperament and more importantly the size of his heart. Benicio hopes he understands the potential he has, even if not now. Bennie has always believed in him.

He saw Venetta in the flora, a beautiful concept, a second hand affection. The cadence of her voice and the excitement of a shopping mall. He wishes he had more time for her, had got to know her better sooner. He hopes it was enough for her to know he would have had her blessing with Malvolia-- as if ever there was a question of it.

He saw Lucio in the stone, a bygone moment, his regret. Distance memories of a boy far too young overshadowed by the nausea of who came before. He wishes he could have given him more, he deserved so much more from Benicio. Both Escalus’ did. 

He saw Florencia in the air, overlooked and vital to it all. A confidant in his final moments, rushing together towards an answer she never got to consider. He hopes she is happy, that for all the years he passed her by and for how hard they pushed together without a glance, a lifetime with her loved ones is enough repentance. 

With every page one could be assured they knew the people carved with the words. Too clear the intentions were, to not leave as a single person forgotten in their finality. 

So fully where these people cherished and realised in this journal that it comes as a surprise- with all his records the one person Benicio failed to remember was himself..

[whump-town]

A Cumbersome And Heavy Body

Chapter One: Tired Of This Body

Summary: Stubborn until the very end, Aaron Hotchner isn't going to go down without a fight. It's just getting hard to tell the difference between fighting them and fighting the cancer.

Word count: 7,883

Author’s Note: ugh... well, here it is. Don’t be afraid to send me hate mail or leave a comment. I love it when I make you guys sad (in a loving way of course) :)) good luck you little shits and may the odds be ever in your favor (FYI, they’re not)

Warning: the subject of this fic is cancer and it’s treatment, cursing, maybe out of character (idk, man. hotch is weird)

I've grown tired of this body Cumbersome and heavy Tired of this body Fall apart without me

“I understand you’re here with concerns of a mass you found—”

He was shaving. The mirror fogged from his shower and the room heavy with steam. Leisurely, he’d wasted time getting ready. That particular morning, he’d gotten up before his alarm and he was happy for the distraction of the near-boiling water pouring over his back while the cold tile bites into his shoulder. An easy stress-reliever before the day fully starts.

Dragging a cool rag over his face he’d caught sight of a slightly swollen place on his chest. He’d dropped the rag in the sink and gently probed the area. He’d expected the sting of a bruise, not a knot of hard lumps.

It wasn’t a bruise.

“I regret to inform you—”

He hadn’t even known there were lymph nodes in the chest.

“Can you take your shirt off for me, sir?”

There’s a whole staff of people fluttering and dodging his eyes. A blur of motion as they work around him. Of them all, Hotch has already developed a soft spot for. Dr. Fitz and the glasses that are too big for his face despite his attempts to make them fit his face. There are rubber bands wrapped around the earpieces to push them tighter around his head and a piece of tape holding one of the lenses in. It’s strangely endearing.

No matter how many times Hotch tells Dr. Fitz that Aaron works just fine, he still nervously throws in the courtesy. He’s just like Reid and it’s that thought that makes him both comfortable and so unbearably alone.

With a nod, Hotch tugs his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his pants. The cold air hits his bare chest and he holds his breath for a moment, shivering slightly before he takes control once again. Foyet’s scars are on broad display for the whole room but, to their credit, none of them blink. They’re not here to dissect the scars covering his body or take stock of the weight he’s put on.

He just goes where he’s pulled. If he flinches when they touch him, no one comments. It’s for the better, mostly.

“The tattoo is going to guide the external beam radiation at your tumor,” Dr. Fitz explains once again. His hands tremble slightly as they hold the little needle in his hands. “It’s just three dots.”

Hotch nods, his mouth a little too dry. This whole process a little too much. He nods his understanding, fists clenched at his side to force himself to show no outward reaction. It doesn’t bother him as much as it should those dots are going to be with him forever. His first and last tattoo.

Forcing a steadying breath, he glues his eyes to the ceiling. It stings but it’s not unbearable. The needle digs into his chest, pushing the ink in. It’s the second and third dot that get him. His skin is getting hot, sore enough to make him gunt as the last one is placed.

“Not nearly as fun as a normal tattoo,” one of the other doctor’s observes. Hotch, blinking back tears, looks over at his other doctor. A woman whom he’d never have figured the “tattoo” type. His brain is a little preoccupied, worn down. He’ll get over not profiling her very well, he just might not forgive himself for the slip-up.

Hotch just… grunts. Not a real answer but the easiest.

He’s offered a hand up but he doesn’t take it. Shoulders sore and arms weak, he pushes himself up. Leaning to the side when his head starts to pound, his mouth really, really dry.

“Alright—” a cold gloved finds his shoulder. “You’re just panicking,” he’s reassured. “You need to breathe. In through your nose and out through your mouth.” The hand squeezes his shoulder but he keeps his eyes squeezed shut. It feels like he’s going to pass out. But… he doesn’t. He breathes as instructed and slowly, the room calms back down.

As he peels his eyes open, chest tight and hands trembling, he finds the room still every bit as busy as it was before his little fit. The world really doesn’t stop.

“Are you sure—,” Dr. Fitz twists and worries his hands. Obviously, he’s worked himself up too. Probably blaming himself for Hotch’s reaction. He should have let him take a break or warned him a little better. “Most people find it helpful to have someone here,” Dr. Fitz observes. “Do you— Do you want to call someone?”

His eyes drop to the floor, his mind-- Haley. She would be here. Cracking jokes and poking at his side. Things used to be so much easier with her around. There was this magic about her, a drug her presence doped him up. She would light the room up and hold his hand. She’s not here, though. She’s dead and he’s having a hard time convincing himself this isn’t some sort of penance.

Snuffing out a light like her, it was bound to have its consequences.

They’ve marked him and with his advanced stage, he’s got an aggressive treatment plan, and the radiation starts tomorrow. So, no. No, he doesn't want to call anyone. He just wants to serve his time. Besides, who would he call?

JJ? With two children of her own and a painfully busy schedule.

Reid? His mother occupies his mind as is.

Morgan? He’s grappling with a relationship with Savannah, attempting to salvage all of the complex things life has thrown at him.

Dave? Hasn’t he already lost a child? The last thing he needs is to sit here for any given amount of time and watch this.

And he’d never, never put Garcia through this.

“No,” he rasps, laying back down. “I’m okay.”

He closes his eyes and when a single hot tear runs down his cheek, he doesn’t wipe it away. I’m okay.

I’m okay.

There aren't immediate side effects and he’s not sure if that’s a relief or worse. He’s anxious, nearly sick with nerves. Would it not be simpler to just get sick already? To throw up or get sore or just— anything.

The machine hurts his ears. Fifteen minutes of lying perfectly still gets hard after about two minutes. The whole process exacerbated by the way the low hum of the machine makes his head feel like someone’s digging at his skull with an icepick through his ear.

He’s assured he shouldn’t start feeling any symptoms for a few days. Likely not until the second week of treatments.

It takes five days for a stitch in his side to take his breath for a moment, doubling over as he struggles to breathe for a moment. Chest tight and head fogged. They just add another pill bottle to the other whole collection he’s accumulated on his nightstand.

It feels like there’s an elephant sitting on his chest. A hand gripping a fist full of his hair and dunking his head back under the water. Ties binding his wrist to the bed. A knife buried in his side.

It feels like the ground he’s standing on is rumbling, shifting beneath his feet and at any given moment it’s going to pitch him forward. A free fall and he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to land on his feet.

He’s staring at the ceiling. Fists gripping the sheets as his stomach twists and churns. Swallowing around the uncomfortable burn in his throat, he turns his head to the side. Watching the movements just outside his bedroom window. Jack’s outside, kicking his soccer ball, and waiting for Daddy to come to join him. Hotch, will have to join him sooner rather than later. Even with the yard fenced in, anything could happen out there.

Funny. Just a few weeks ago, anything could have been blown under the rug with “at least it’s not cancer”. Now he’s plotting his will out in his head, making sure he covers every little thing. Who will lead the team? Where will Jack go? Can Jessica handle arrangements and should he start preparing the comfort letters now?

In the face of it all, he’d thought he could accept this. Life goes on. Things happen. He doesn’t want to die. All of those poems, the books, and the lies. “Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep.” Well, that’s right shit, in his opinion. What comes next? Not light. Not hope. His body will succumb to cancer leaving behind the carnage of his actions.

Hodgkin's Lymphoma…

He’d known, in that morbid way his thoughts tend to twist, that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. That it would be silly for the doctor to smile, sympathetic to his plight, and advise him to talk to his therapist about this new progression of paranoia. For a pat on the back. Instead, he got the cold examination table under his back, and the nurse giving his trembling hand a squeeze as the needle had plunged into his chest.

It’s all been a haze since that phone call. Since the confirmation. Now he’s got more blood tests scheduled for Monday. That’s what his life is now. Radiation for fifteen minutes for four days a week. On the fifth day, he gets blood work drawn. They check for enzymes and cells. He doesn’t really care to understand.

He should. Don’t mistake the careless, numb ache thinking about all this gives him for complete inattention to detail. It’s just a little much for one person.

Hotch finds himself wondering what Reid would tell him about the whole process. Statics that would knock the wind from his lungs and odds that would make him feel just a little better. That he’s too old and too stressed out. That radiation aimed at his chest can harden his arteries and increase his already high chances of a heart attack. That he should have seen this coming-- his father died at 47. Lung cancer. A heart attack.

He should have seen it coming.

“Daddy?”

He has to lean into his nightstand as the ground warps beneath his feet. “I’m coming,” he manages, closing his eyes and blindly hoping that his door is shut and Jack can’t see him. He wishes he’d smoked more. Indulged in Dave��s cigars. Gone drinking with Derek. Danced like Penelope. Fuck, smiled more.

He didn’t even know there were lymph nodes in the chest. He’d gone to law school. Spent his early adulthood learning to read complex course material and how to cry softly in a room with another person less than five feet from him. Maybe he should have studied Biology… but then he’d just have to come to terms with the fact that this whole mess was bound to happen. Predisposed. Genetic and environmental.

His fault.

--------------------------------

Six in the morning is not a typical time to be fielding calls from concerned police officials. “He—Hello?”  Which, now that phone is tucked under his chin, and the call answered, he realizes that he should have checked the caller ID. As stated, is it six in the morning and he doubts anyone too important is calling him at this hour.

Unless, of course, his luck has finally run out and yet another political disaster has occurred. Leaving him to clean the wreck.

The other end makes a strange noise before he’s greeted with, “--finally! I was almost worried you wouldn’t answer!”

Oh.

Emily.

“Morning,” he greets, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He’s a little too grumpy for this right now but she’s obviously called for a reason, her happiness seeping into tone, and he’s not going to purposely ruin that. How many hours ahead is London, again? Why is she awake?

“I was worried,” she admits. He can hear her working, the drag of her pen across paper, and the shift of the leather chair she’s sitting in. Even her keyboard clicking away as she multi-tasks. “Your last letter was nearly two weeks ago. Is everything good at home?”

Home. He smirks, she’s been overseas now for several years. Yet, she still refers to Virginia as home. The thought makes him shake his head. He’d never draw the conclusion out loud to her but he can imagine that little slip-up is one of the reasons that her on-again-off-again boyfriend Michael grows frustrated with her. It’s not her fault. It’s an understandable mistake but it certainly reflects a certain tone for her affections of London.

Her preferences.

“They’re fine,” he answers, evenly. “Jack’s doing well in school. Dave’s stopped hounding me about potential love suitors.” He pauses to splash water across his mouth, preparing to wash his face. “Garcia enjoyed last month’s tea flavor, what was it-- raspberry?”

He places his phone on speaker and sets it on the shelf above his sink. Ducking his head, he listens to her while he washes his face. Going about the habitual process of shaving. A comforting thing he’s always done. He’s got no preference when it comes to facial hair. A beard is just as easy as a clean face. It’s about shaving. It’s soothing. It’s one of the few things that’s remained constant in his life.

She’s talking-- he thinks about how the weather in London has hit a point in the season that she doesn’t particularly like. Raining and cold. That she wants to come home but she isn’t sure she should. Will she really be able to tear herself away from the Virginia weather? From them?

He’s half-way done shaving when his eyes drift to his shirtless chest.

He wonders how many times he shaved, how many mornings did he wake up before he realized-- before he saw the tumor or the lump or mass or whatever the hell the medical term is. He lowers his head, sighing in defeat but mostly anger. How’d he let it get to this?

“Anyways,” she sighs. Sounding every bit as tired as he feels. “How is home? How are you?”

He looks at himself in the mirror. His head is absent of reason. No logic or forethought.

“I have cancer.”

-------------------------------- Everything about Aaron Hotchner is traditional and simplistic. It’s not a bad thing. In the years that she's known him, she’s grown fond of that. It makes him predictable and reliable. Something that happens infrequently in people the older that she gets. A part of her does feel wrong for clinging to that, to him, but she cherishes his friendship. Through the ups and downs.

Their means of communication are letters. Once a week she can expect to find two to three pages of neatly written updates on her family across the pond. He’ll ramble about anything in those letters and that’s what she enjoys about them the most. There is no hesitation to tell her what he thinks. In those letters, she can find Aaron. Incredible soft, thoughtful Aaron.

It’s been two weeks since he’s sent a letter. Not to sound clingy but she’s kind of hurt. More so, she’s nervous to find out what’s taking up so much of his time. He’s routine with his responses. Almost every Thursday night she can curl up with his newest letter and a glass of wine and read about the BAUs newest adventure. It’s always a bonus when throws in his subtle little “I” statements. I miss you’s come rare but when they do happen it’s nice.

Sighing, she caves. It’s Friday, she hasn’t heard from him in two weeks, and she misses him. By the time she has his contact picture pulled up and the ring tone dialing-- his goofy picture from his badge grinning at her-- she realizes that her eleven am is his six am. Just as she’s starting to think he won’t answer it goes through.

“H--Hello?” he sounds like shit. Over the course of the last year, she’s managed to forget what he sounds like. His voice is startlingly deep which does surprise her just a little.

“Finally!” she mumbles. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer!”

He yawns and it makes her smile. “Morning,” he grumbles and she can hear him scratching tiredly at his face. She feels guilty for waking him up for only a moment. That is until she remembers he gets up at six. So it’s likely she called right after his alarm clock went off.

Tucking her phone between chin and shoulder, she turns her computer on. Settling in behind her desk and getting to work. “I was worried,” she tells him. Not sure if she’s meaning to sound mad at him for not sending his “everyone’s alive and well” letter or mad that she doesn’t know how he is. He’s thrown her off her routine. “Your last letter was nearly two weeks ago. Is everything good at home?”

Her worry bleeds into the statement but he’s too tired to feed it or make fun of it.

She can hear him huff softly, an almost laugh.

“They’re fine,” he answers softly. His voice is drowsy, “Jack’s doing well in school. Dave’s stopped hounding me about potential love suitors.” She hears the tap run, he pauses, and she can hear him splashing water on his face. “Garcia enjoyed last month’s tea flavor, what was it-- raspberry?”

She smirks, it was raspberry. Although, she doubts Garcia liked it as much as he says. She’s not a huge raspberry fan. Besides, Emily had sent that tea with one specific tea drinker in mind: him. The thing about Hotch is, he’s traditional, but he’s also complicated. That’s just Hotch for “I enjoyed the tea you sent”.

Really, she’d just wanted him to be introduced to more teas than his just his simple black tea. Be more creative. Have some fun.

“I’m glad Garcia liked the tea,” she says with a smirk. “She’s been texting me all week.” Pictures, texts, and a few Snapchat. Emily doesn’t entirely know how to use Snapchat yet but she’s getting the hang of it. “You guys being grounded is relaxing, I’m sure, but that woman’s got way too much time on her hands.” Emily shakes her head at the thought. Lovingly, of course.

“Anyways,” she runs a hand over her face and she lets out a sigh. “How is home? How are you?”

There’s a long pause on his end. All his busy movements coming to a halt. It makes her heart pick up its pace, her gut twisting. Suddenly, that knee-jerk thought, that stupid thought that something might be wrong feels true. She’s just about to say his name when his voice cuts through.

“I have cancer.”

Her first reaction is oh. At least she was right.

That is immediately followed by-- oh fuck.

“Are you…” she swallows thickly, work forgotten. “Have--” Where does she even begin?

He clears his throat, “Hodgkin's Lymphoma.” He answers without her actually having to ask. It feels to get it off his chest, literally. To tell someone. “I guess--” he makes a choked sound like the shock of this news is setting in again. “They have to put, uhm, ink to locate the right place. So, I… I have a tattoo of sorts now.”

She laughs a half-pained sound. “I’m sure Morgan doesn’t consider it to be a tattoo,” she manages around the tightness of her throat. She cringes at the thought, ink and a needle just digging into his flesh. Cancer invading his body.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment but when he does, she understands the silence.

“I haven’t told them.”

As much as she wants to be mad at him, she shouldn’t really expect anything different. He’s painfully shy and private. God knows if she hadn’t found him half-dead in the hospital after Foyet, he’d have gone as long as possible without telling them. He certainly wouldn’t have told them while still hospitalized.

It’s the same lack of forethought that goes through them, a moment of blindness. He’d felt the weight of restraints pulling his limbs down when the admissions had left his lips. She feels only conviction, “I’m coming home.”

It catches him entirely off guard.

She winces when he starts coughing. His first symptom since starting radiation. It’s a horrible sounding dry cough that makes her lungs ache just to hear.

The coughs fold him over, the force at which they leave his mouth is painful. What is it that makes coughing so painful? That’s never made much sense. It’s just air, right?

“Hotch?”

He rubs at his sternum, trying to externally soothe the muscles. “I’m okay,” he chokes. Shakily, his right-hand bears his weight as his left turns the faucet on. With his palm, he manages to sip a few mouthfuls of water. It just doesn’t stop the coughing. “I’m okay.”

She highly doubts that. There’s not a single thing about what she just heard that sounds “okay” by anyone standards-- certainly not his. “Are you going to work like this?” she asks. It’s hard to believe he’d allow himself to be seen in any state that isn’t tip-top shape. On that note, she also knows that way too good at putting on a show, and, for profilers, the team sucks at making that distinction.

The anger that evokes in him is undue. Admittedly, he overreacts. “I said I’m fine,” he barks. “I don’t need you checking in on me, Prentiss. I don’t need you here, too!” To watch. It’s bad enough, okay? That he’s going to have to tell his six-year-old son that he’s dying. Each morning a little more than the last and some days feel like he’s already half-lowered into the ground.

And the others. Reid and those sad eyes. The way Morgan won’t be able to look at him, just avert his gaze and storm out of the room. Dave’s crushing hug and JJ’s silent tears. Garcia… He can only imagine the raging in-betweens of what the news will do to her. Stress baking cookies he won’t be able to stomach. Knitting him hats, sweaters, and blankets with feverish vigor that he won’t be able to escape.

He could use one of Garcia’s love knitted blankets right about now.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he relaxes his tight grip on the sink. Knuckles paled and fingers aching.

“Sorry,” Emily finally manages after the long moments of silence.

Hotch hangs his head, biting his lip hard to stop the flow of emotions trying to work their way up. “No,” he rasps, thickly. He sniffles, scoffing when he rubs his eyes with the back of his wrist, finding tears. “That was… inexcusable. I’m so sorry,” he leans down, body in half as he rests his forehead against the cool porcelain of the sink.

This doesn’t even feel like his body anymore.

“Aaron?”

There are tears streaming down his face, he’s too tired to fight them off. “Hmm?”

“I’ll see you soon.”

He hums in agreeance, unable to trust his voice.

“Take it easy, okay? I love you.”

The line dies before he can hasten out a reply.

--------------------------------

She’s been waiting on a reason to leave London for longer than she’s willing to admit.

Her dying friend proves to be reason enough.

Clyde has obvious mixed feelings but he can’t hold her back. He and Hotch had gotten set on the wrong foot. The rivalry between the two men is childish but endearing. Almost nothing has made her feel as loved as the proud smiles they both wear when she greets them. Clyde overwhelmingly pleased he’d won her back to London and Hotch smug she’ll travel hours to come to see him (she hadn’t done that for Clyde).

Almost nothing beats that.

“Emily!”

Her eyes are scanning the crowd before her, searching for her mismatched ragtag family. Sore thumbs, bobbing up and down in the crowd, they wave her to them. She notices he’s not there immediately.

“Princess,” Morgan sighs her name into her hair and she turns her face into his shoulder. Drawing in the strength she can feel wavering with a new wave of anxiety washing over her. It helps that they’re here. Derek’s arms wrapped around her after what feels like a lifetime away.

It’s only taken her three decades but she’s found her family and she’s not letting anything drag her away this time.

Garcia pushes at Morgan, causing a choked laugh out of them all. “Stop hogging all the Emily-lovings!”

Morgan smirks, trying to hide the relief swelling in his eyes like tears. He gets one more good look of her, eyes combing over her before parting with a sad smile. Relieved.

There’s a blur of motion. She’s pulled to each of them.

Garcia hugs like she’s trying to crush ribs and Emily lets her.

Hugging Dave brings tears to her eyes. Fuck, she’s missed them.

“Don’t make me chase you,” Emily threatens when she spots Reid near the edge. Pulling him close she rests her head against his shoulder, happy when he squeezes her back. ���I’ve missed you, boy wonder.” Her genius. Just as scrawny as when she left him. She doesn’t want to do that again anytime soon.

Dave claps his hands together, grabbing one of the three bags she’d dropped. “Let’s get lunch, kiddos. We can talk about London.” He winks at Emily and she knows that this is going to spin into a conversation about potential love interests. She hasn’t had love on the brain in a while.

London… not everything she wishes it was. Cold and rainy. Relentlessly.

For the first month, she was over there, all she wanted was to come home. She just kept waiting for the rain to ease up. Then there should be that wet, hot humidity that clings to everything. She’d hated that before but now she’d just give anything to have it. For Reid to drag her out for coffee and the sun to bring out the chipper inflection in Garcia’s voice.

How the sun looked on Jack and Henry’s little head when she’d run around the park with them.

Fuck London, she’s just glad to be home.

“So,” she’s allowed them their fill of questions. Things about INTERPOL and if she’s still leaning heavily on take out food or if she’s managed even the faintest bit of finesse concerning cooking (she hasn’t). Leaning onto her elbows, she asks the question that’s been bugging her for hours. “Where’s Hotch?”

Dave leans back in his chair and JJ’s the first to crack. Of course, her poker face just isn’t that great. Her eyes move to Dave, concern written across her face. They might not know but it’s not that hard to figure out they know something isn’t right.

Reid shifts uncomfortably, averting his eyes, and focus.

“Your guess is as good as ours,” Dave informs her. He settles back in his chair, arms crossing on his chest. “He’s…” he sighs tiredly. For a moment he just shakes his head. Rubbing a hand over the coarse hair on his face and then rubbing at his eyes. “He’s Aaron,” Dave mumbles. “Complicated and… reserved.” He looks at her now, zeroed in on just her. Just them.

Her heart races at just the thought of them knowing.

JJ clears her throat. She distracts her worry with rubbing her nail at the glass. “He says he’s at meetings,” she tells Emily. “Says--” she shakes her head, flustered. Upset. Pulling in a breath, she shakes softly as it comes in. “Every day, he sends me an update email. Just a list of things he expects to get done for the day or places he might be.” JJ tucks a strand of her hair back from her face. “Our jobs circle around each other, a lot. It makes my life easier if I can find him without running all over the place.”

Morgan turns his head, away from the conversation. Wishing to be uninvolved but unable to escape.

“He’s lying,” JJ concludes. She worries her lip with her teeth. “His lists are…” her eyebrows furrow as she struggles to say exactly what she means. “Last week,” she says with a nod, having come up with her perfect example. “He said he’d be in a meeting. Didn’t tell me where, he always tells me where.” Her eyes scan over the table, looking for more. “Something’s wrong and he won’t tell us.”

Morgan huffs, shifted now so that his arms are wrapped tightly around himself. His legs crossed, even. Distant. “I don’t see why we don’t just let him be.” His tone betrays what he’s really feeling. That anger and the vulnerability. His words are reflexive. He’s always pushed away when things get tough.

Emily wants to rise to his defense or to say anything but she can’t.

“Reid went into his office yesterday--”

Reid flinches. The memory or the feeling, he draws himself in. Shielding himself from whatever is being said.

Garcia looks down at her lap.

“He was asleep at his desk,” Dave finishes, despite seeing just how uncomfortable Garcia and Reid look. “Out like a-- Asleep like he hadn’t rested in a while. It took-- I had to shake him awake. He was warm to the touch and shaking.” Dave looks down to the table. “Shaking. He was weak and I’d known,” he looks up, frowning sadly. “I’d known something was wrong before but whatever is, we’ve got to get to the bottom of it.”

The bottom of it… God, they’re going to be devastated.

Lunch brightens. It’s forced to when the conversation shifts to the children. To Henry starting fourth grade and Jack’s in middle school now. Since when did those babies grow up?

Sooner than maybe she’s ready for it, she has to leave them. She’s too tired, too jet-lagged.

And maybe… Maybe she’s ready to bother Hotch. To reacquaint herself with his grumpy, silent nature. Isn’t it silly to think she’d hated him once?

Now she knows where his house keys are hidden.

The key hits the lock and she realizes how this might not be as great of a plan as she had planned it to be. “Hotch,” she calls into the dark. She peaks around, hoping if he’s home he’s not on edge. She’s seen him hypervigilant, she knows this is an awful plan. Even calling ahead might not have been enough. So, it’s more than brave for her to just come barging in.

She puts her back near the coat rack, still hunched into herself in case he comes barreling around the corner. He doesn’t. “Aaron?” His car is out front, despite the darkness of the room suggesting the house is empty. The blinds are drawn shut, blocking all-natural light into the house. The air is cool. “Aaron if you’re here please, please don’t shoot me.”

Shutting the door behind her, she progresses into the living room. The creaking of floorboards draws her attention to the other side of the house and she spots him.

He comes around the corner of the hall, from the direction of his room. Tired eyes move up to find her, his lip quirks into half a smile. “Emily,” he greets under his breath. He’d heard the door open but the binds weighing his wrist and ankles to the bed had been too much for him to lift. Pained and slowed, he’d made his way to figure out who was home.

Certain it’s not Jack, he should have had a little more trepidation about coming out here to investigate.

She approaches him slowly, soaking in every line and angle of his body. The way he’s favoring his right side is a new thing but the crescent moons under his eyes are a comforting familiarity. Pulling in a breath, she drags her eyes all the way up to him. He’s lost some weight and it just makes his cheekbones that much more hauntingly sharp. It draws attention to the scars on his face, thin and aged.

With a smile, she shakes her head at him. “Just as ugly as when I left,” she informs him.

He smiles tiredly, sighing at her playful taunt. It makes the hug she pulls him into relieving. The aches and chills he’s felt all day lessen as she wraps her arms around him. Something about the way her hand cups the back of his neck while the other rubs his up along his spine.

She’s standing on the tips of her toes, stretching to get to him. He leans down into her, closing his eyes. She just holds him that much closer. Against her, she can feel the beating of his heart. The way his nerves had amped his heart rate up and now, as the beat slows, the way he calms under her touch.

“How are you?” she asks quietly. They pull apart and she feels the absence of his warmth immediately.

He pulls in a weak breath, one he lets out a strangled cough. Shakes his head and offers a shrug. “I’m okay,” he assures her.

She doesn’t fail to notice how his right hand shakily reaches out to steady him against the wall. They’ve never agreed on the definition of okay and, so, it’s not that surprising they wouldn’t now.

Burying a cough into the elbow of his arm, he starts to tremble. His breathing takes a heavy quality as he stands there. It takes only a moment for him to draw himself up to his full height,  swallowing down against the pain and forcing his body to bend to his will. If she didn’t know better, nothing would look wrong at all.

“Can I get you anything,” he asks, clenching his teeth to keep steady despite how exhausted he feels. “How long are you staying?” He knows she won’t actually answer that first question, so he steps by her and lets her follow him into the kitchen. Hyper-aware of the way he moves his body. Trying to look normal instead of stiff.

She follows him, watching for clues in the slips of his armor. One of the many benefits of having known him so long and knowing him well is that he can’t get much past her. “I’m staying for as long as I’m welcome,” she replies. It’s better than the truth, that she’s staying until he’s better.

He appreciates her choice of wording even if the truth is still there underneath it all. Leaving him the burden of the situation, which is considerably worse.

He sticks with a simple hum of understanding, knowing she’ll understand it as such. “Staying where,” he asks. Suspecting he already knows the answer. “Here?” He fills two glasses with water, desperate to soothe his dry mouth. Turning to her, he offers the first glass.

She accepts the glass without comment. “I didn’t think about where,” she lies, smirking over the glass rim at him. He shakes his head but doesn't comment. “Here would be good though.” She looks up at him and he shakes his head with a smile. “It would!” she defends. “I know you miss me and I could help around with Jack. If you won’t admit to it, I know he will.” Her smile twists mischievously, “besides, he’s my favorite Hotchner and I’ll make time to spend with him regardless of where I stay.”

He shakes his head but he’s already formulating how to move the guest room around to accommodate her. There’s not much in there. A bed with some regular looking sheets and two or three boxes of random things.

Putting her glass down on the counter she sighs. “We don’t need to worry about that right now.” Nodding her head back towards the hall she says, “you look miserable. Go to bed.”

He realizes that while she was talking he’s slowly started leaning more and more on the counter. Accumulating a lean to ease the aches wracking his body. She’s right. He looks miserable because he is. He’s exhausted.

“Do you need to take any medication?”

He shakes his head, not letting it bother him when she tucks herself against his side. Allowing him to lean into her. He doesn't but the warmth her body brings is pleasant enough to keep him going. 

He took everything he needed this morning. The medicine for the radiation rash he’s developed across his chest, the preventative pills for the fibrosis that might build in his lungs because of the radiation, and a whole other list of things he can’t really remember. He just has the bottles on his nightstand and knows that most require two dosages.

His bed is warm and soft, his eyes closing against his will. Logically, he knows he shouldn’t let her see him like this. This is his battle and he doesn’t want to burden anyone else with it. There’s a comfort in sharing, though. Rather it be the brush of her fingers on his forehead, pushing back his crazy or the kiss she presses to his temple before whispering “get some sleep, Hotch”.

And, honestly, he’s tired of being alone.

“Emily?”

She turns in the doorway.

“Thank you.”

Someone has to be here. She wants to be here. “You’d do the same for me.”

--------------------------------

Legs crossed, hair pulled into a half-assed knot atop her head she watches him curiously. He’s up an hour later than she’d expected. No coffee to go along with the egg he has for breakfast. Between them, they have an entire morning spent without nearly a word. Just a simple, “do you want an egg?”

He gets ready but not for work.

“What’re you doing?”

She gets ready too. For what, she’s not sure, but she’s interested none-the-less. Even if she thinks she knows the answer. It’s very interesting, she thinks, to step into the living room and find him staring dumbly back at her. No, not interesting. It’s fun.

Stepping around him, she pulls her coat off the rack. “Isn’t it obvious,” she asks, slipping her feet into the boots. “I’m coming with you.”

Flannel and jeans aren’t his typical go to but it’s a relaxed look. One she finds she doesn't hate.

He crosses his arms on his chest, eyebrows furrowed and a stern frown in place. Startlingly in control for a man she watched choke down half an egg before calling it quits. He hadn’t even had coffee. Now he shifts his weight, left to right. “Emily this isn’t--” he just stands with his mouth open. After a moment he shakes his head. “You don’t want to come.”

So it is treatment.

She pulls her jacket tight around her shoulders and without comment pulls his down too, offering it to him.

He takes it with a sigh, shaking his head, but pulling the sleeves over his flannel. With a sigh, he grabs his keys off the counter. He points a finger at her, looking every bit the father scolding a troublemaking child. “You’re not coming inside the hospital. It’ll be an hour. You’ll drive someplace else. I’ll text you when it’s done.”

She smirks, pleased she’s won this round. Placing two fingers to her temple, she gives him a mocking salute. “Aye-aye captain!” Today, she won’t push. He’s come this far, weeks into his therapy. If he needs some time, then he needs time. Just so long as he knows she’s here now.

Leaving him is harder than she anticipated.

She takes his seat, half-listening as he stands at the door.

“There an outlet about five minutes North,” he says. He watches her move the seat around. Trying to drag the seat closer to the steering wheel so she can actually reach the pedals. “It’ll give you something to do. There’s a bookshop up there too. I-- I take Jack there.” He runs a hand over his hair. “A coffee shop and a smoothie stand and--”

She catches sight of the grey through his hair. Looking away, she clenches her jaw. Worry the edge of the steering wheel. “Aaron,” she finally stops him. “I can take care of myself for an hour. I’m a big girl.”

He shakes his head, ducking to so she can’t see the blush creep up his cheek. “Right,” he manages. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

She nods, “an hour.” She waits until she can’t see him. Those doors closing behind him. Swallowing him whole. It’s just an hour.

She was gone for an entire year. More than that really. Years. What are years to a single hour?

The coffee shop is quant. She can imagine him here. Tucked away within the stacks of books. Reid would like it here. The covers are old but, she thinks with a smile, he’d find something, not to date. Seeking a classic and turning away when it’s not in its original translation. That’s where Garcia has always been his balance. She’d pull him from a rant and sit him down with a cup of tea.

How had Emily ever left them?

Her hands tremble as she runs a finger over those old book backs. Mostly, she wonders what Hotch must be thinking. Heaven or hell. If all the work they’ve put into this job will account for anything at all in the end.

If it’ll hurt.

Her phone goes off. Done. Simple enough.

“I brought you a smoothie!” She’s got his sunglasses on when she pulls up. Not even offering to get out of the driver’s side.

He’s hurting more than he cares to admit. Tired and the rash on his chest burns. Seeing her pull up, he’s glad she doesn’t do more than hook her finger into the sunglasses and peer over their edge at him. Climbing into the car he takes one look at the smoothie and shakes his head. It’s dark green and even if he were hungry he’s sure that isn’t very good. “No thank you,” he mumbles, leaning back into the seat. He tilts his head against the rest.

She’s not really in the mood for arguments. More so, he’s just gotten out of treatment and all he’s had is an egg. “You’ll drink it,” she informs him, putting the car in drive. “Maybe not now but eventually.”

He grunts. Doubt that. If he’s going to manage to stomach anything, it’s not going to be that. Besides, he’d got plans: take a nap. That slowly goes down the drain.

Emily turns up the radio, humming along to a song he doesn’t recognize.

Turning his head, he watches her drive. He hasn’t told her yet but he’s very thankful she’s come back. Even if he’s slightly tainted the return with… She’s here taking over his life. Worming her way into his spare bedroom. Force-feeding him weird green smoothies. He doubts she’ll stop there.

“Hotch?” He doesn’t wake up when she shuts the car off. From there on, she’s gentle. Careful as she extracts herself from the car. “Aaron,” she rubs his shoulder.

He pulls in a small breath, turning slowly to her. Half-lidded eyes find her, confused.

When they left the house he’d looked better. Better than now. Not so exhausted.

“You fell asleep,” she informs him, backing up as he sits up. He has to use the seat to get there but he makes it happen. She waits back for him, letting him take his time getting out of the car. All while holding that damn smoothie she’s convinced she’s going to make him drink.

He’s rubbing the sleep from his eyes when his phone goes off in his pocket. She turns at the door, waiting. He motions her on with a wave, taking the call. “Agent Hotchner speaking.”

She stops for a moment to watch him pull in the whole persona. Not Aaron who just fell asleep in the car but Hotch the rock. It’s sad, really, how quickly the one consumes the other.

She’s reading on the couch when he comes in.

He doesn’t say anything as he slips past, going back towards his room. He comes right back out. The loosely buttoned flannel is forgotten, replaced by a suit across his thin shoulders. Once, those suits had pronounced the sharpness of his body. The way his shoulders sit strong and straight. Now, that jacket doesn’t even look like it belongs to him.

“Where are you going?”

He only glances at her, ducking his head back to the task at hand-- putting on shoes.

She gets up off the couch, flipping the book text down. “Aaron,” she comes around the side. “You can’t go out there.” To work. It’s not healthy to go out there. He had fallen asleep on the ride home, not even twenty minutes ago. He won’t manage out there.

He turns to her as she steps into the room, scowl in place and a look of indifference pulled between them. All the protection he can garner for himself. “It’s not up for debate,” he replies. As if this is out of his control. He just can’t help but think it would be easier this way. It would hurt less, dying out there. A coherent death. He’d feel it. Quick and overwhelming.

But coherent. He’d know.

Not in a hospital. More machine than man. Unable to speak or too weak to think.

It would be better to die a hero.

“Aaron,” she calls, he’s just walking away. “You’re being unreasonable.” She wants to scream. To shout at him or grab him the collar of that oversized dress shirt and shake him. Force him to realize that he’s being stupid. Does he think she’s stupid? They both know this is self-destruction. Skipping treatment. Going into the field. All for this stupid image that he’s convinced himself is necessary. For who? Huh?

It’s better to suffer around people you love than to have them bury you. The only burden is the weight of your casket across their shoulders.

He turns, teeth clenched. Jaw set. “Am I?” he asks. His face has darkened, his cheekbones drawing his cheeks in. “I’m going,” he informs her, “regardless of whatever it is you have to say.”

He won’t look at her. That’s how she knows that no matter how illogical he’s being, he knows exactly what he’s doing. Back turned to her, he stops for just a moment. He knows this isn’t what he should. That this is neither his best option nor the right choice. Still, he opens the door. Stepping out he turns his head, eyes cast to the side. “I--” he shakes his head, he doesn’t know.

Before he can shut the door she calls his name out, fear overriding the anger. “Aaron,” she clenches her fists at her side. “Please be safe.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows thickly. Glancing at her, he nods his head. At least he has the decency not to lie to her. To pretend this is anything but foolish and a death wish. He shuts the door behind himself without another word.

Leaving her standing there.

Waiting.

She’ll still be waiting that night when Reid calls her. Incoherent.

“I-- I don’t know what’s wrong Emily! He won’t-- He’s bleeding and I--I… He said to call you.”

She shouldn’t have let him leave.

@laiba-the-person, @emily-hottie-prentiss, @unionjackpillow, @clockedstar, @baumarvel, @blakeprentiss, @qvid-pro-qvo, @aaron-hotchner187, @ssalavellan

[starrysupercell]

Brawl Fantasy AU Part Four!

Max is a rapid-fire fairy. It's difficult trying to keep up with her through the streets of the Kingdom. Especially since Shelly wants to look around. She was so curious! Ash was steadfast focused on not losing track of the Fae.

Before too long, the Trio make it to the castle where they're greeted personally by (Lunar) Princess Piper De Prim. (She's a Sylph!)

She thanks them for finally arriving. She had expected correspondence, but perhaps their messenger bird had gotten lost along the way?

Shelly and Ash exchange looks. What? Was she expecting them-?

Piper continues. Nevertheless, the De La Prim Kingdom gives its heartfelt thanks as a whole. Taking a quick look over the two, she asks if they would like... showers, and then a late lunch to discuss the urgent matter at hand?

Ash accepts for the both of them quickly, because he feels very displeased with his current VERY unclean state. Plus it'd be rude to refuse an offer.

Shelly is about to complain, because they were rushed here and now it's suddenly not that big a deal anymore, but shrugs. I'm tired of cold river water and bland fish. Gimme that tub and fancy food.

They're shown to their very ornate rooms, and are greeted by the very enthusiastic Princess Colette, who Max sticks to most of the time.

Colette very often forgets to be ~regal~ most of the time and has to be reminded by Piper.

After her shower and getting half-dressed, Shelly accidentially falls asleep because she's so exhausted.

She's awoken by Ash suddenly. He tells her to get it together!! They're guests with an urgent warning, and Shelly is keeping the acting Royal waiting!! It's evening now! (Piper had been lenient, but Ash decided to steal away and wake Shelly.)

"I was sleepy," Shelly grumbles to defend herself but Ash has a point. The princess hastily gets ready and then heads down, joined by the knight.

Barley, Max and Colette are there. It's only this handful of folks, since it's a vital discussion. Colette is sat beside Piper. And the Knights stand/hover by the Royals. Max is at human-size now.

Shelly begins to apologize as they take their seats, but Piper waves it away. "It's time to talk about what you two came here for..."

Shelly nods. "The Dragon Attack," she confirms.

"About the Curse." Piper states at the same time.

Wait.

Piper puts down her glass and speaks first. "Pardon. You aren't here because I sent away for aid from the Vandete Kingdom?"

'-'

"No," Shelly said, feeling uneasy.

Colette and Max are puzzled. Barley simply thinks, '...Oh.' hides his relief.

After bracing herself, Shelly continues. "We trekked here because.. Dragons have attacked our Kingdom. We didn't get your message because there was no way for us to get it. But I'm sure that if we had gotten it, the Vandete Kingdom wouldn't have hesitated in supporting you."

Piper sighs. Still very displeased, but she finds reason in what Shelly is saying. Still. The fact that the message is still out there can lead to trouble if another Kingdom finds it.

Plus, she had just been told one of their strongest Allies have fallen. This couldn't have just been coincidence. This had to be sabatoge. or karma.

But as she's done often lately, she kept up her grace. "We appreciate your words. You seek advice on Dragons, is that right? What do you wish to know?"

The attacks are discussed, which Piper finds odd. Dragons are territorial, but never attack unprovoked. Most types also don't have a pack-mentality, unless still in Family Broods. Did somebody in the Kingdom wrong a pack of them?

No. This was countless Dragons. Different kinds. They wouldn't stop attacking. We didn't catch the end, but our kingdom was rubble.

"Oh, dear." Barley spoke up. Both he and Piper realized the situation. Colette looked just as confused as Shelly and Ash.

Piper looked concerned. "I'm afraid we cannot aid you. You see, what you just described are the signs of an attack led by an Overseer Dragon. That requires more resources to take care of than what our Kingdom can give in our current state.”

Ash is taken aback. He didn't expect that answer.

Shelly asks what exactly is the current state?

Without skipping a beat, Piper answers that it's none of Shelly's concern. Very professionally.

Shelly: We're the same class.

Piper: From manners alone, it's hard to tell.

Shelly: Excuse me Princess, We've done our fair share of travel to get here. We told you that our Kingdom lies in ruins which puts us at risk. You don't want to help us, and now you refuse your own show of faith and insult me. How is that for manners!?

Piper exhales very slowly. She repeats calmly that there’s no benefit to explaining herself. For this kingdom’s sake, it’s safer to keep their situation well-guarded until it’s guaranteed it can be fixed. It isn’t meant to be taken personally. She then adds an offer in the chance to stay as long as they want. For their troubles.

Shelly firmly states that they’ll take their leave in the morning.

Piper: ..Oh. I see. Nonetheless, the De La Prim Kingdom will always be open to you. U.U

Dinner is dismissed.

~

Much later that night, Shelly opens her door to roam castle when she’s stopped by Ash.

Ash: what d’ya think yer doin’ up, lassie!? ye can’t travel on a drop o’ sleep, can ya!? 

Shelly: What about you!? have you even slept at all!?

Ash defends themselves by declaring it’s her job as a knight, and it isn’t like there’s anyone else sworn to protect Shelly.

Shelly: well i don’t know why you’re still here. your stupid princess just cost us this kingdom’s good graces.

Ash hesitates at telling it how it is, but eh. screw it.  if she insists!

"Yeah, ye were dafty. we’re out o' shelter, and despite what the actin' royal says, I wouldn’t trust the promise o' being welcome. all this because YOU couldn’t keep yer pettiness in check."

gee, thanks. Shelly isn’t proud of herself atm already, and that definitely helped.

"...but i’d be fibbin' if I said I wouldn’t do the same. if i had a death wish, that’s the way i’d go, wipin' the floor clean with that sickeningly sweet look of hers! ...but ye didn’t hear that from me, Princess."

shelly and ash laugh over the thought, and shelly is like. well, you are right though. I guess i should go to sleep to leave in a few hours. but you should try to get some rest too.

Ash is about to answer when a third voice interjects.

“Aww! you know you guys don’t have to go in the morning!”

and a fourth.

“and at this rate, nobody in the castle will get any sleep, chatter-bugs!”

Colette and Max are there, giggling. Max is back to mini sized. (it’s her preferred form, but they were keeping guard earlier.)

Shelly and Ash are a little nervous because how much did she hear?

the younger princess handwaves it off. “Don’t worry about it. I... uh, I know how it looks like with Pi- with my sister, but please don’t be mad at her. she’s just really, really stressed."

"The truth is, somebody cursed the king and queen. they’re in a deep sleep, and we can’t find a way to break it. we have no leads and we don’t want to cause mayhem or attention to our plight.”

shelly and ash are suspicious. “and you’re telling us, because...?”

Max explains that she can sense emotions, so she knew that they were telling the truth.

Colette’s theory is that the Dragon attack and the Curse may have something in common.

The curse seems to have been done by a powerful Wizard, and the Kingdom attack could have been planned. If someone wants to take over, it seems like they're getting started.

so, if you solve one, you can solve the other.

Shelly and Ash are listening carefully.

"Obviously, I'm not allowed to leave. So... would you guys mind poking around for me based on that?? That would be REALLY helpful."

They.. agree, with some reluctance because of Piper. But if it is to stop someone from ruining more kingdoms, they're all for it.

"Great!! ....I have.. a theory. There's a kingdom that is stellar in um, wizards and magic stuff. I really think that's where you should go. Have you heard about the Grailams Kingdom?"

Shelly confirms it. Aside from the Ranger in the forest, she's heard countless tales of sorcery when she was growing up.

Colette gives them funds to travel comfortably. She also urges them to take Max along with them. Fairies are super helpful in many ways! And Max is the cream of the crop! Take her!

Shelly shrugs. "I guess. Won't they notice your Knight is missing?"

"It'll be fine!" Colette says dismissively. "Now I gotta go. Good night!!"

And she slinks away, stumbling a bit in her dress. How... weird.

Max smiles at them. "So! When are we heading out? Morning time right? I guess there's still time to kill. I'm just going to take a quick power nap." She darts into Shelly's room before she could be stopped.

"..."

Well, it makes sense why they're friends.

Shelly and Ash do settle in again for the night. They have a journey to continue tomorrow.

[ka-za-ri]

Descent Pt. 9

Y’ALL THOUGHT I WAS JOKING WHEN I SAID “ I JUST WANT TO SEE SIMEON [REDACTED] AND [REDACTED] WHILE [REDACTED] AND [REDACTED] ALL THE WHILE MC AND LUCIFER [REDACTED] UNTIL SIMEON IS [REDACTED] OUT OF HIS MIND” I wasn’t.

I’m so, so, so, sorry that this chapter took so long to come out. (シ_ _)シ There was a lot of self-doubt when it came to writing it so it took a little more time before I realized my original plan was the right way to go. I’ve been really excited to write this, so I hope it translated well. Hope y’all enjoy!

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10] 

Pairing: Simeon x Lucifer x Reader, Lucifer x Simeon Genre: REALLY filthy smut Wordcount: 7,400 ish   Tags: Threesome F/M/M, Spitroasting, Pegging, rough sex, overstimulation, chastity devices Summary: Desperate for release, Simeon's willing to give you everything, including his body. It's just a shame he's too prideful to do it alone and once again needs to call in a favor. 

Plunge

Your kisses were hot enough to brand his skin. Lips, breath, scent, all of it cloyingly sweet and heady. He reached out to brush your hair from your face just so he could kiss you without abandon. Simeon whined when you pulled away from him. He reached out to you but you pushed him back onto the soft covers of his bed. “No.” you told him firmly and placed a finger onto his lips. He kissed the digit reverently before you slid your finger away, traces of his saliva leaving a glistening trail down his chin.

Your fingers found his nipples and pinched them, hard. He cried out in pain, but there was no question that the pain only turned into pleasure as you ground against his throbbing member. He called for you, his throat parched and hoarse from screaming in pleasure. You only giggled and watched him writhe under you. “No.” you reiterated. “Be a good boy.”

And what could he do but obey you? Listen to your every command as you made his body sing and reach highs he had never achieved before. His cock throbbed, aching to be buried within you, he would do anything for that moment to have you fall into his embrace and make sweet love to you. You were heaven on earth and he was so, so close to salvation.

Your hot mouth wrapped around the tip of his length while your hands kept his legs spread wide. He could feel every one of your taste buds as your tongue swirled around the tip of his cock. He clutched onto the sheets below him, his knuckles turned white from the sheer force of his grip. Simeon keened, begged and pleaded for mercy, yet he knew he would get none. Not while you were in control. No, he knew you would pull everything out of him before he got his release, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He felt you hum while you sucked him off, drawing him closer and closer to his climax. Just when he couldn’t take it anymore, you pulled away and waited for him to stop heaving for air. You had the grace within you to let him breathe for a moment before the tell tale buzz of a vibrator was turned on and pressed firmly against his aching cock.

“Good boy.” You purred and grinned gleefully as his screams echoed in the room. “Cum nice and hard for me now. If you do, I’ll let you fuck me.” Your words were more than temptation, they were pure sin and he didn’t give a damn if he fell, just as long as he was with you. His reward was within reach, and the pleasure building within him reached a breaking point.

As pure euphoria washed over his body, Simeon awoke, panting covered in sweat and dizzy from his dream. His fingers were sore from clinging onto the sheets and there was a distinctive sticky wetness that came from his leaking cock that strained against the cage you had placed onto him. He sighed, tugging at it, hoping that it would give him some relief but it only made the throbbing worse. Simeon took deep breaths, trying to focus on something, anything, to get his mind off of the erotic dream he had. With how often he awoke like this since that night, it was almost routine for him to take a cold shower to wash away the sinful thoughts that invaded his subconscious. Most days it worked, but with how intense his nightly visions were becoming, even that tried and true remedy wasn’t enough.

After seeing you so wantonly taken by Lucifer not once, but twice now, the dreams had started to come in. At first, he didn’t think too much about them, after all it wasn’t the first time he ever had an erotic dream. But, when it involved you and what he now knew you could do for him, his nightly visions  became extreme. It was all he could think about. Sometimes, the dreams involved Lucifer as well, goading the two of you on he couldn’t hold back anymore and was ready to fuck you out of your mind. However, even in his dreams, he was denied the ability to take what he wanted as his body always jolted him awake the moment he was just about to enter you.

It had been a full week of this torment. Simeon expected to be used to it. The weight of the cage on his cock reminded him of that fateful night and everything you and Lucifer did to him. Never had he ever been so pampered and spoiled, yet left hungry for so much more. It never failed to get his member straining against its confines.

The memory permeated his regular thoughts and crept up on him whenever he least expected it to. He wasn’t even granted the privilege to rub one out when the thoughts became too much anymore. He was cursed to be stuck with the discomfort of not being able to find release. Somehow, after such a blissful night, his life was an eternal hell of constant arousal and frustration. The inability to find any sort of relief only caused him to stress and be more on edge. He was being driven mad with a need and a desire to defile someone he swore he wouldn’t do.

Something needed to be done.

Simeon hated calling in favors, especially when he just finished paying one back. Still, he didn’t know who else to turn to and his fingers once again dialed the number to his old friend.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t expect to hear from you again so soon.” Lucifer’s drawl was as smug as ever when he finally picked up after several rings. “How has your week been?”

Simeon only sighed, he was sure Lucifer knew exactly how his week has been. “I need help.” he deadpanned, unable to deal with Lucifer’s pompous tone more than he absolutely had to.

“So soon? Are you writing a new novel? I must say, I was rather enamored with how you wrote the last few chapters of your book. I could tell exactly what parts you took---”

“I’m not writing a new book.” Simeon cut in, huffing in frustration. “I need help… With… Well…”

“Well?”

“The cage you put on me...” He finished his sentence with a fair bit of shame, hating that he had to admit to Lucifer of all people that he was having problems with being too over aroused all the time. “I… I can’t cum with it on.”

“Oh, don’t you know? That’s the point.” Lucifer’s chuckle incited a fair bit of anger within Simeon, but he managed to keep a level head somehow. “Come on now, surely you didn’t think it was just for show...”

“Lucifer, I haven’t been able to sleep properly for a week.” Simeon hissed. “I need to do something about this before I snap and do something I regret.”

Lucifer hummed, completely seemingly nonplussed about his friend’s reaction. “Hmm, well, that would be a shame wouldn’t it.” Simeon could hear Lucifer shrugging to his phone. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I don’t know, take it off? You have a spare key, right?”

“Oh no, the one key that exists belongs to your dear friend. Last time I talked to her, she told me the only way she’s going to take that off of you is if you promise to take her.”

There was a fair amount of silence on Simeon’s end. Lucifer wondered if the call had been disconnected and was almost ready to hang up before he heard his friend speak again. “I can’t do that.”

“But it’s what you want, is it not?”

“It’s not about what I want. You know as well as I do that this isn’t something I can do.”

Lucifer sighed, almost pitying how Simeon was fighting his urges. “Is your divinity really that important to you?”

“I… I cannot take what is not meant to be mine.”

“Then, if you cannot take, what can you give?”

Simeon blinked, confused at Lucifer’s cryptic words. He knew Lucifer had something planned, as always; and he had to tread carefully to avoid his fall. Still, Lucifer offered him a sliver of hope, and he would be lying if he said his curiosity wasn’t piqued. “What are you suggesting, Lucifer?”

“Oh? I thought you’d never ask...”

He was only two steps away from falling. Though Lucifer couldn’t take those steps for him, he could at least offer a little push in the right direction.

~~

You laid your head on counter of the bar, the cool wood gave your burning cheeks a little reprieve. Most of the night had been spend nursing mixed drink after mixed drink. With one final rather stiff order, you finally felt sufficiently drunk to the point where you didn’t worry about Simeon or what he thought about your relationship with him.

You hadn’t seen him in a week. He hadn’t said a damn thing since everything that happened at Lucifer’s penthouse and you were beginning to believe it was all a fever dream. Lucifer had been right about one thing, Simeon wasn’t the kind of person to tell you what he wanted. It was a constant guessing game and you were tired of giving the wrong things to him. No matter what, he remained steadfast in his promise to not fuck you.

You groaned, sipping your drink and looked over at the bartender. “What do I do.” you whined, hoping to get some advice.

“Ah? What’s this? Relationship troubles?” he asked softly while carefully drying a glass. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to explain your plight.

“How did you know?”

“Well, judging by your demeanor and how often you’ve come in the last week, clearly something is bothering you. When you complain about your job, you ask for beer. This whole week though, you’ve requested mixed drinks, I can only assume that what worries you is a little more ah… personal.”

“Asmo, you are too good at your job.”

He giggled softly, putting the glass in its place and picking up a new one. “Well, I wouldn’t still be working here if I wasn’t good at what I do.”

“This is very true.” You nodded, once again taking another drink. “I don’t know what to do… I really like this guy, but I can’t tell if he’s invested in me the same way I am for with him.”

“Well, now that really is quite worrisome, isn’t it?” Asmo stopped you from answering while he fulfilled an order. He chatted merrily with the customer but he did keep an eye on you to make sure you weren’t too far gone. After all, you had offered him a rather juicy tidbit, he was rather invested now in your story. He wandered back to where you sat at the bar and returned to cleaning glasses now that the patron had their drink. “Sorry about that. Why don’t you tell me more about what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Venting your frustrations out to someone who was basically a stranger was oddly cathartic. You started from the beginning, keeping some details vague just to protect Simeon’s public reputation. Even if your story was for Asmo, you never knew who could be eavesdropping. Your tale was interrupted a few times by customers, but luckily it was getting late and most of them were just getting one last drink in before heading home for the night. The interruptions became less frequent and you were able to eventually finish your story along with your drink.

“So yeah… I came up with the idea of putting him in a chastity belt, and now he hasn’t talked to me for like a week and a half.” You pouted and slouched over the bar. “Do you think I went too far?”

Asmo hummed, wiping down his workspace and mulled over your story. It was just as juicy as he thought it would be. Some of the details you mentioned had him getting rather excited, and he was glad for the tall counter hiding his growing arousal. “Well, all things considered, I think you’ve given him as many hints as possible. If he can’t tell what you want at this point, then that’s on him.”

“But how can I tell if that’s what he wants? He won’t tell me anything.”

“Ah, you see, you’re giving him yet another chance.” Asmo chided. He took your empty glass from you and slid over a new drink. “On the house.” He declared with a bit of a wink. “You’ve given me a good story to listen to, it’s only fair that I compensate you properly for it.”

“Thank you...” You looked at the concoction and took a sip. A myriad of flavors and sensations flooded your tongue and you took a moment to savor his creation. The warm burn of alcohol rested at your chest and you mulled over the bartender’s cryptic words. “So, are you saying I should stop giving him chances? What should I do?”

“I’m saying maybe, you should take a chance this time around instead.” He smiled sweetly at you and continued to calmly clean his space.

“Huh…” you mused. His words still confused you, but they did get your mind thinking about how else to perhaps coax him to tell you what he truly wanted.

As if on cue, your phone lit up and a message appeared. You had to rub your eyes and make sure you weren’t dreaming; the alcohol running through your system sure made things seem rather surreal from time to time. When you were sure that the message hadn’t disappeared, you picked your phone up to read what the contents were.

[SMS: cAN YOU cOME OVER NEXT wEEK??? i NEED TO tALK TO YOU??? ]

Seeing Simeon had taken the initiative to finally text you sent an exciting thrill through you. You had seriously thought about drunkenly texting him and demanding answers, but this was much better than your poorly thought out plan. His inability to text was still as bad as ever and you giggled at how silly the serious message seemed with the mismatched capitalization.

“Hm? Now that’s a lovely sound I didn’t expect to hear. Did something good happen?” Asmo leaned over the counter when he noticed the change in your demeanor. It was as if the heavens had heard your thoughts and prayers, hoping he would contact you first. After having poured your heart out to the bartender, there was no way you weren’t going to listen to his advice.

This was your chance and you were going to take it.

“Yeah. He wants to meet up next week. I guess it’s time to take your advice to heart, huh.”

“Indeed. I hope it works out for you.”

“Oh, I have a feeling it will.”

~~

It didn’t feel like the week could go by fast enough. You finally had a reason to visit Simeon again. It was odd how quickly you missed him when you didn’t have a purpose to go to his place. Before, you could excuse your weekly visits as work. Now that his book was complete, you couldn’t find an excuse to see him unless he invited you over. To say you were excited to see his text was an understatement. You had hastily written a reply in your drunken state. The typos made you cringe when you looked at it the next day, but your meeting with him was still confirmed.

Your mind was mostly preoccupied with your visit. The work of your new clients piled up as you spent hours on end staring into space and imagining what you could do to him next. You had pushed him so far the last time you were with Lucifer, you had been sure he would be ready to break and just ask to take you, but that moment never happened.

You might have replayed the events of that night over and over again, trying to figure out where you went wrong. Eventually, you just became frustrated about things you couldn’t change and focused on anything but your upcoming meeting with Simeon. Work was a great distraction and you found you were able to at least throw yourself into that until your appointed day came.

There was no reason to be nervous. You had been to his home multiple times, and with the things that had happened within those walls, you should have been completely shameless. You had an idea of what to propose to Simeon, should he be willing. It was a risk, but one that you were willing to take. It had taken a while for you to come to terms with the fact that there would come a time where you needed to just do things yourself if they were at a standstill.

Regardless of what convictions you had, your resolve wavered when you saw Lucifer open the door. For a moment a bit of anger flared within you. You despised how you were relying so much on this mysterious man to push your relationship with Simeon forward. Though you were grateful for everything he had done for the book as well as the amazing night he orchestrated as a celebration, you couldn’t help but feel a little bitter when you saw him greet you yet again. Simeon hadn’t mentioned Lucifer being present in his text to you and seeing the man threw your confidence off kilter, to say the least.

“Why the long face? Am I poorly dressed?” He raised an amused brow at your involuntary pout.

“I uh… I just didn’t expect you here is all.” You shrugged, trying to brush off the bitterness you felt and walked passed him to get inside. “I wasn’t aware that Simeon invited you as well.”

Lucifer chuckled, already entertained by the energy in the room already. “Well, he asked me for a favor, and it’s very hard for me to resist helping him.”

“Great. That’s lovely.” You deadpanned, taking off your shoes and walking into the common room. You blinked in confusion when you didn’t see Simeon sitting at his usual spot on the couch. “Simeon?” you called out, wondering where he could have gone.

“He’s not over there.” Lucifer leaned against a wall, waiting for you to get your bearings before he finally guided you in the right direction. “Come, follow me.”

He lead you up the stairs and down a hallway to a room you had never been allowed to be in before. Lucifer opened the door and ushered you into the dimly lit room. You let your eyes adjust to the darkness before a rustling noise on the bed in the corner of the room caught your attention. You could hardly believe your eyes at the vision before you.

“He’s lovely no matter what he wears, isn’t he?” Lucifer whispered into your ear, coming into the room behind you and quietly closing the door.

“Y...yeah...”

Simeon squirmed. He disliked having so much attention aimed his way, especially if that attention was while he was dressed so scantily. Lucifer had once again outdone himself in setting up the scene. The sheer lacy lingerie clung to him like a second skin. The thigh high stockings held up by an elaborate garter belt only accentuated his assets. The sheer chiffon thong he wore hid nothing from your sight and you had a front row seat to his cock straining against the cage you put on him weeks ago. When he shifted, you noticed a glittering plug fit snugly into his ass. He was breathtaking in his get up and you could feel your cheeks burning from witnessing such a beautifully debauched scene.

“You see, he’s been excited to show you this little getup this all week long. But he still needed a little help getting the last few details right.” Lucifer explained before he sauntered across the room and put the final touches onto the ensemble.

Simeon shifted to get on his knees if only to make it easier for Lucifer to place the bejeweled leather collar on his neck. The glittering lead dangled in front of him tantalizingly once the collar was securely on. He looked over at you expectantly, his eyes wide with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.  “Do… do you like it?”

You nodded dumbly, stepping forward when Lucifer wordlessly coaxed you forward and offered the lead to the collar. It was surprisingly heavy, looking down, you noticed that it sparkled in the dim light due to all the crystals embedded in it. Your eyes followed the lead until you locked gazes with Simeon. He had the most beautiful pout on his face, his eyes wide and his lower lip stuck out, begging for you to kiss it.

You gave the lead an experimental little tug. As soon as he felt it, Simeon obediently got up and trotted over to where you stood. The immense amount of control you had over him was absolutely mind blowing. “I’ve been wanting… to do something like this for a while now.” he admitted bashfully and turned his face to the side unable to keep eye contact any longer.

Taking his chin gently in your free hand, you shifted his gaze back to you. Hearing he wanted something like this to happen only made you more excited. Hopefully it meant that he was willing to open up a little more. It almost made up for the anger you felt at Lucifer’s presence. Though it was upsetting that you couldn’t coax his desires out of him on your own, you were glad he had reached this point at least. “Tell me what else you want out of this.” You commanded, your thumb gently brushed against his cheek as if it could draw the answer out of his lips.

“I want...” He paused, lowering his gaze but your grip on his chin remained firm and he was looking at you once more with a little jerk of your hand. “I want…” Simeon couldn’t seem to finish his sentence and he stuttered once again.

“I can’t give you what you want if you won’t tell me.” You chided softly, tightening your grip on the lead and pulling him down until he was on his knees. Your hand on his chin moved to his hair, gently petting his soft locks before grabbing a fistful and making him wince a bit. “You’ll be a good boy and tell me, right?” You gave the lead a forceful tug, causing his neck to strain and he let out a stuttering breath.

“Y-yes… I’ll be good.”

Your grip loosened enough to give him some reprieve. “And what is it that my precious angel wants?”

“I want you to… I want… Iwantyoutofuckmeplease.” His request came out in a rushed, run-on whisper. Once you pieced together what he said, your cheeks warmed at his candidness. You cleared your throat, trying to reassert the dominance you had acquired. From the corner of your eye, you could see Lucifer had made himself at home on Simeon’s bed. He lounged against the headboard, ready to step in if you needed him. For the time being, he was happy to take a back seat to the depravity Simeon was about to subject himself to.

“Is that what you want...” You mused, pretending to be calm, though your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. Truth be told, you had considered doing something like this after Asmo’s advice, but you never thought Simeon would offer such a thing to you. Well, might as well take what’s given…

You gently pat his head and you swore he let out a quiet coo of content at the affection, though you couldn’t be sure. Lucifer watching everything was distracting you from Simeon’s request. Admitting that you would have never gotten to this point without Lucifer’s help frustrated you and it took away from the potential closeness of the moment if it had only been you and Simeon.

As if he could sense your unease, Simeon spoke up. “I asked him to be here… I trust him as much as I trust you.” He leaned his head into your hand, encouraging you to keep petting him. “Please, use him as you wish.”

You turned to Lucifer and raised a brow, surprised that the CEO of Akuzon would ever agree to be submissive to anyone. The man on the bed only shrugged in reply. “He asked for a favor, how could I say no. Have you seen the way he pouts? But it is as he says, I am at your command tonight.”

The shift in power had your head spinning. Both the men in the room were at your beck and call for the night. The final goal being fucking Simeon until he couldn’t see straight. You pulled Simeon back on his feet and ran your hand down his abdomen to tease the cage that kept his cock bound. He whimpered, bit his lower lip and heaved a heavy sigh. He hoped you would be merciful if he pouted and showed you how needy he was; but it looked like you had no intentions of releasing his cock from its confines anytime soon. Then again, he didn’t think he deserve that sort of sympathy from you, not after what he put you through.

“Well, I suppose I should get to work then, shouldn’t I?” you purred. Having so much authority made you feel drunk and made your mind race all the ways you could take the beautiful man before you. You pulled him back up to his feet and pulled him into a quick kiss, careful to only give him a hint of the passion and love you had for him. “I think I have too many clothes on for what you want, so why don’t you be a good little angel and help me out of them?”

Simeon was more than eager to comply. His fingers quickly flying to your blouse and worked the buttons off. His eyes burned with the same concentration he had whenever he was in the middle of writing an intense scene. He moved like a man on a mission and you were left in nothing but your undergarments quite quickly. “Good boy.” You praised, giving him another brief kiss and lead him back to the bed. “Now, are you sure about this? I don’t want to hurt you if it’s not what you want.”

He nodded vigorously. “I want this… more than anything. I want to give you everything that I have… please take me.”

Your heart fluttered at his admission and your dominance faltered for a moment. “Well, if that’s what you want, how could I ever deny you.” you purred once you had a moment to regain your composure. You looked over at Lucifer who was very clearly in on Simeon’s plan. “Something tells me that know what to do next.”

“I thought you’d never call on me.” He got up from his place on the bed and walked over to a drawer. Once he retrieved what he needed, he beckoned you over and you complied after putting the lead to Simeon’s collar down.

From there, Lucifer helped you get fitted with the harness and made sure everything was on securely for you. He worked methodically, fully invested in making sure you were outfitted properly. When he was done, you needed a moment to get accustomed to the rather sizable strap-on you now sported. The heavy weight of the phallic object felt foreign to you and you half wondered how either of the men in the room dealt with something like this on a daily basis.

The straps of the harness hugged your thighs and your hips, keeping everything in its place so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything slipping when you properly got things going. Idly, you reached down and stroked the silicone dildo hanging between your legs which elicited an amused chuckle from Lucifer. “Who knew my cock would look just as good on you as it does in you.”

You sputtered; honestly, you didn’t know why you were even surprised. Of course he would have done something like this. Looking over to Simeon, you stalled for another moment, still hesitant on whether or not this was something he wanted. But, when he called for you with a needy little whine, you were reassured that this was exactly what he wanted.

“You. Strip. In case I need you later.” You commanded to Lucifer before walking towards Simeon who was waiting so patiently for you.

Giving something for Lucifer to do meant you could focus solely on Simeon. “Come on, hands and knees now, love.” you urged, tugging on the tether to bring Simeon into the proper position. As if he could read your mind, Lucifer tossed you the bottle of lube and you fumbled to catch it.

Now that what he fantasized about was actually happening Simeon was more than eager to show you just how needy he was. His ass swayed gently from side to side as you floundered around with the bottle. It was the first time in weeks he had been touched by another person and everything you teased him with only added to his arousal. Precum oozed out of the tip of the cage, dribbling onto the sheets below. You hoped by the end of the night there would be a veritable puddle of his essence on the bed.

The thong he wore really wasn’t holding anything up. It was a pretty, lacy thing, but utterly useless in practicality. It was easy to just undo the ties that held it up at his sides and toss the thing across the room. Now that you had better access to him, you assessed the glittering plug in his ass. “Did someone spend all week getting ready for this?” you crooned softly, tugging at it gently and drawing out a loud whine from as his tight hole was stimulated.

“Y-yes… I want… I want….” He whimpered, falling to his elbows. He had dreamed about this moment for days on end, now that he was experiencing it, his mind was reeling from all the sensations.

“So greedy.” you chided, tugging at the plug harder and watched as his hole spread and stretch to make room for the toy you were slowly extracting from him.

Lucifer returned to the other side of the bed, fully nude and half hard. He laid back, not even a little bit shameful about how much he was enjoying the scene before him. His friend was so close to falling and accepting his fate, yet he was struggling with every fiber of being. It truly was endearing just how hard Simeon was trying to cling to his divinity all the while being so obscene. The human realm’s temptations were truly marvelous.

The plug released from his ass in a satisfying ‘pop’ and Simeon sighed in content, knowing what was to come soon. You marveled at the impressive girth of the plug before also tossing it to the side. It had served its use as preparation for the main event of the night.

You poured a generous amount of lube down his ass crack, ensuring that he was well covered with the slick substance before you entered him. Just as an extra precaution, you gingerly fingered his hole, slipping you fingers into him to test just how ready he was. He let out a long whine that turned into a moan as your fingers explored him. “Please… don’t tease me...”

“Aww, she’s just making sure you don’t get hurt.” Lucifer reassured, stroking his friend’s hair. He had taken a hold of the leash, keeping Simeon’s head up so he could see every change of his friend’s expression all the while you drove him mad with just your fingers.

“I won’t, I’ve prepared all week for--- ahhhh” His indignant quip was quickly silenced as you pressed the well lubed head of the dildo into him. No amount of preparation could have made him ready for the feeling of being stretched and filled by something so large.

You took it slow, still unsure of whether or not you were hurting him. While it was mesmerizing to see the dildo slowly disappear inch by inch into Simeon, you still worried that it could be too much. You could see Simeon clawing at the sheets below him as he accepted every inch of the phallic toy inside of him. It was so much more than a plug. It filled him in a way he never thought was possible and he nearly forgot to breathe if it weren’t for Lucifer quietly reminding him to relax and take a breath from time to time.

It took a small eternity, but you eventually fit the whole toy inside of him. When you finally bottomed out, he heaved an earth shattering sigh and his shoulders visibly slouched for a moment before Lucifer once again brought his head upright. “Good boy.” You praised, patting his ass cheek lovingly before placing your hands firmly on his hips to keep him in place. He visibly shivered as your hips flexed and gave him an experimental thrust. “You took that so well.”

Simeon only whimpered underneath you, pressing his ass back towards you, urging you to continue. You smirked, unable to get over just how much power you had over him. To know you were drawing these sorts of sounds and reactions from him only added to the high you were experiencing and  served to fuel your building arousal. As soon as you started a steady pace, you were quickly entranced at how readily his body was accepting the toy.

It felt amazing to dedicate his body to you. To give everything he had to the pleasure you could draw out of him. The moment you settled on a rhythmic thrusting pattern, he saw you as he knew you owned him as his master, his lover and his god all at once. There was no greater bliss than feeling the toy slide in and out of him, undoing him in spades as it rubbed against his prostate and made him sing.

Simeon keened and wailed, meeting every one of your thrusts by pushing his ass back against the toy. The cum dripping out from the tip of the cage soon flowed freely. He was sure he would have cum by now, but due to the restraints, he didn’t know where his release began or ended. You became bolder with your strokes, fucking him harder with longer, deeper thrusts, making his moans fill the room and bounced off the walls.

“Oh my… so loud...” You mused before slamming your hips into him and making him properly scream. “Lucifer, be a dear and help me gag him, please. It would be a shame if the neighbors heard how dreadfully lewd he’s being.”

Lucifer sat up straight, a smirk spread on his face when he was at last being used for the explicit purpose to further Simeon’s pleasure. He got to his knees and used the lead to bring Simeon’s face to the same level as his cock. “With pleasure.” He said, stroking Simeon’s hair. “Come now, you know what to do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

Simeon was beyond feeling shame. The lust coursing through his veins overran any sense of embarrassment he might have felt. His mouth eagerly opened to accept Lucifer’s cock, lapping at the tip before wrapping his lips around it.

Lucifer groaned, his long lashes fluttering from finally getting a little bit of stimulation. The slack on the lead disappeared as he pulled on the collar harshly. The rough motion allowed his cock to slip all the way to the back of Simeon’s throat, effectively gagging him as you had requested. Hearing his newly muffled moans sounded like music to your ears.

Sensing that he was struggling to take so much all at once, you stopped what you were doing for Lucifer to get comfortable fucking Simeon’s mouth. Once you noticed his body relax and no longer tremble from being so overwhelmed, you went right back to fucking him until he was too exhausted to take anymore.

You got your wish. By the time he couldn’t take anymore, there was a sizable pool of his cum on the sheets and yet his cock still leaked his essence. It looked painful straining against the cage, yet you looked at your handiwork with a sense of pride. Despite all the ecstasy he had felt, he still wasn’t allowed a true climax. Until he said he wanted to put his dick in your cunt, you wouldn’t give him the privilege of release. Glancing over at his face, you saw a mixture of Lucifer’s cum and drool dribbling down Simeon’s chin. The sloppy mess on his face glistened in the dim light of the room. You couldn’t deny, even in this defiled and debauched state, he was beautiful.

You were careful when you finally pulled the strap-on out of his ass, making sure to take your time and memorized every muffled whimper and moan that came from his occupied lips. Lucifer only extracted his cock from Simeon’s mouth when you gave him the permission to do so with a curt nod. He lovingly stroked his friend’s hair, smiling softly. He knew just how close Simeon was to falling, he could feel it. It would only take one last gentle push in the right direction.

Simeon gasped for air, remembering to roll over and avoid the mess he made. He sprawled on the sheets, staring at the ceiling and reeling in the sensations he just experienced. His whole body was sore, it felt like he had gone through a multitudes of highs with no end. He never reached the intense peak of a true climax, but with how much cum was on the sheets, he at least felt some sort of release from what you and Lucifer did. His asshole, though thoroughly abused by the extended fuck session still craved for more.  

Even though he had given it all to you, it still didn’t feel like it was enough to satiate his needs.

He had thought he would be free from his desires once he gave everything he had to you; but there was still a hollow ache of hunger that wasn’t satisfied.

“You did so well. That was amazing.” you purred, crawling over to where Simeon laid and kissing him deeply. Your tongue swiped across his swollen lips tasting him and traces of Lucifer before delving into the caverns of his mouth to get more. Your hand felt around for the lead to his collar and tugged slightly on it once you found it. His reacted immediately, intensifying the kiss and tilting his head to give you a better angle. Exhausted as he was, he was still willing to give you what you wanted. “What an obedient angel I have...” You breathed once the kiss was finally broken. “My precious angel behaves so well.”

He stood at the point of no return. He was so close to crossing the line and all he needed was a little push.

“Ah, an angel he might be, you’re still unsatisfied, aren’t you?” Lucifer commented, his voice syrupy sweet as he slipped behind you and took both of your breasts in his hands. You gasped in surprise, having nearly forgotten he was even there while you focused on taking care of Simeon. While you were still gathering your composure, Lucifer swiftly undid the straps to the harness. In no time at all, it fell to the bed with a dull ‘thud’ before he unceremoniously shoved his fingers into your sopping wet heat.

Simeon’s eyes widened, barely believing what he was seeing. He had been so enraptured by his own pleasure he had forgotten about your own. The shame of not pleasing you washed over him and whatever bliss he felt was dashed away as he watched you writhe under Lucifer’s grasp. With how drained his body was, he didn’t have the strength to do anything but hopelessly watch as once again Lucifer was the one who could draw out true pleasure from you.

He regretted asking for help. He regretted trusting Lucifer. He regretted everything as he was forced to watch you moan and whimper for someone that wasn’t him. Even if you owned him and everything that he was, that didn’t mean he had a place in your heart.

Hot tears pricked his eyes as he was witnessed Lucifer’s cock disappear over and over again into your pussy. Your pleasured moans would be branded into his memory. The bliss that was plastered all over your face was something he could never draw out of you. He could feel what trust he had in Lucifer crack and break with every thrust you eagerly accepted. The way you clung desperately to Lucifer as he railed you and the way your moans sounded was so much more raw than anything he could ever elicit from you. As he watched you cry out for a man not him, he felt a burning ember of rage grow within him. He would never be enough, no matter how much he gave.

His cock was prisoner to your whims and your rules. The one tenet he refused to break was what barred him from reaching paradise. The divine celestials seemed droll compared to the temptations you provided him every time he fell into bed with you.

No, no. Stop. She’s mine. She’s MINE. Stop. Please stop.

The hold you had on his lead fell when you came around Lucifer’s cock. He never ceased to bring you to a violent orgasm with how he played your body like an instrument. You couldn’t stay angry with him when he so easily turned you into a moaning mess with little to no effort. For as much as you craved Simeon, he offered an allure that was irresistible. Like a devil seducing you away from your goal, he shook your conviction and made you doubt if Simeon could ever be this good.

“Oh, fuck… Lucifer.” you groaned, shuddering as your body was overtaken by your orgasm. You lifelessly fell forward, your whole body limp and used after such a good fuck. Lucifer wasn’t too far behind and with a few more frantic thrusts, emptied himself within you. The envy Simeon felt when he saw cum that wasn’t his own flood your pussy was absolutely indescribable. How unfair was it for you to own every bit of him, yet he could not stake his claim on you.

The rage within him boiled under his skin and he weakly reached out for you to cradle your listless body while you rode out your high. He glared at Lucifer who only smirked in return. Simeon protectively curled himself around you, holding you close. You let out a whine of protest when you felt your leg brush against the puddle of cold cum on the sheets, but quickly settled into his embrace. He wouldn’t let the devil take you away, no matter how much he tempted you. No, he would do everything to guard you from that sin. Feeling you nest comfortably in his arms, he felt the anger within him subside, if only for a little bit.

Lucifer knew how to read the room and took the hint that he wasn’t wanted, nor needed anymore. As far as he was concerned, his goal had been accomplished. He looked forward to the result of his goading in the upcoming days. All he had to do now was make a graceful exit. Luckily, being the busy man that he was, it was easy to pretend that he received an urgent text from his assistant as an excuse to leave the two of you alone. “It’s been a pleasure, as always.” he said before taking his leave.

You waited until you heard the front door close before you let your body fully relax into Simeon’s arms. “So, was that what you wanted?”

“Yes, all that and more.” he lied softly, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck before the two of you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He was a step away from the edge and a this point, he was more than ready to take the fall.

[drarryhadmeatpotter]

Lying with the Savior, Sleeping Alone

It starts the moment he walks in, like storm clouds in the distance, electric currents rolling in, felt by anyone he’s slept with. Though the club is dark and packed, they can feel his presence nearing, catching on their breath, condensation dewing on their drinks.

Ginny and Draco catch each other’s eyes, comprehension flicking sharply; after all this time they wish they could have learned to calm their pulses. Their reactions are sharp as ever, not one ounce diminished since their last chance encounter. And, while realizing he still has this hold leaves them feeling disappointed, they can’t deny they also feel absolute exhilaration. Harry’s impending proximity still sends shockwaves through their systems, and while a breather would be nice, they’re not sure they’d trade it either. They are painfully aware he is getting ever nearer, this subgroup of his friends he inexplicitly brought closer. Draco and Ginny stay frozen in their booth, the “have hooked up” gang Harry had cast; the only ones who knew, commiserated in this shared experience, that they could never explain to the rest.  Seamus, Dean and Luna, completely unaffected, carry on their conversation, wondering as to when the “one more” would be present.

It isn’t usually this poignant, seeing Harry in the world, attending holidays at the Burrow, passing at Hogwarts, popping in, when the setting is light and bright it’s easier to cast the thoughts away, shove it all down deep inside, and ignore these stirrings that he brings. But here in this club, where the only glow is neon, where the pulsing beat is deafening in their ears, it is difficult not to flash back to their different yet identical affairs; it is impossible to prevent their thoughts from sliding back to the best lay they’d ever had.

A rough hand trailed up his ribcage as he’d been backed against the wall, chapping his lips raw as they worked against his own.

Stubble scratched along her chest, leaving heat where it had brushed, as firm confident arms wrapped around her waist to lift her up.

Every kiss, every lick, every touch, and every thrust, dizzying sensations of every want and need getting struck, without ask, without question, unrelenting pleasure trembling deep within their core, satiated and gratified, but forever left wanting more.

He sees them from the dancefloor, green eyes lighting up the room, a smile drawing to his face as they’d come into view. He bounds up the steps that separate the seating from the pit, clapping Seamus on the back, “Alright, fam?” greets the jolly, oblivious git.

There is some cheerful chitchat, bashing Harry for finally making it out, but excited the bastard had joined them for a round. Normally the workaholic turned down these such invitations, so often enthralled in his research that he barely made it home, let alone out for a night at their favorite city spot. Sometimes he hit the pub, just along his way, but with how much he enjoyed dancing it isn’t quite the same. Soon a round of fire whisky and butterbeers come about, the two joined in, wishing “Cheers!” and swig the shots down their mouths. Then they all start making their way out to the floor to dance, except Draco and Ginny who stay where they are sat, desperately trying to quiet the desperation that they have, for the boy who is their friend, though sitting back and watching does not help them clear their heads.

 Harry is in true form when he is moving with his instincts, whether that’s in fighting, dancing, or having sex, there really is no distinction. He easily catches the beat, and spirit of those around him, which feeds into his vigor, and elevates all involved.

Draco gripped a handful of wild raven locks, as he moaned from Harry’s thrust, breaking from their snog as Harry’s lips pulled to a smirk. He’d yanked back Harry’s head to see the blaze searing in his eyes. He felt ever single inch inside as Harry toyed with his withdrawal, changing up his rhythm, holding out collapse until Draco had his all.

Ginny had known before the end that she’d be sore by the next day, though honestly, she preferred that anyway. She could feel the muscles of Harry’s forearm engaged against her neck, keeping her close with that large hand tangled in her hair, propped against the wardrobe, her legs wrapped around him in a vice, his other hand firm on her bum, supporting as he moved. He’d left a trail of love bites from her tit up to her ear, and as she was pushed over his lips crashed to hers again.

Draco and Ginny sit dazed, well aware in the silence what is playing through their minds. They had both crossed that line with Harry, knowing from the get-go that it would only be a single time, just filling each other’s needs in a moment with no alternative in sight. They’d entered into it thinking surely they’d still feel the same in their relationship as friends, just a bit more satiated once on the other end. And yes, their urges were met, but that night will forever be in their minds, that endless pull from knowing cannot be left behind.

They swill the bottoms of their butterbeers, trying their best not to look sour. They’ll get up in a moment and join their friends and dance all night, but they need every second to firm up their walls, to steel their resolve against their plight.  

Their one-night stands with Harry had been the worst thing they’d ever done, cursed forever as friends not lovers, no intimacy shared as he’d left right after they were spent. Fucking a friend had made them come undone, lying with the Savior, sleeping alone.

[project-ohagi]

Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Trigger Warnings: Mention of Death, Depression.

-----

Immortality - the reality of your life, but hardly grandiose. It slowly became more akin to a curse. The disillusion presented itself, drenched in both fury and sorrow, when you watched your first lover die. 'Cardiac Arrest', they said. 'For no-one's sake but your own, you must move on', they said. But between the rush of blood howling in your ears, and the untamed stream of tears dripping down your cheeks, you hadn't heard them. Had you even wished to? Perhaps it all just pained you so, that the ignorance had been subconscious, yet...somehow still intentional? You couldn't bear to hurt, or simply to feel...even think! So maybe you had shut out the help, the advice, because it was much easier to pretend - pretend that your soulmate, the one with whom you could have happily shared the universe, had breathed his very last.

Death wasn't uncommon, and even to the end, he hadn't feared it. The icy grip coiled around his neck, choking any remaining semblance of life. And for a fleeting moment, you thought you saw the marks. Five fingers. Five stages of grief. You succumbed to despair in a hasty fashion, but you were never able to accept.

You couldn't let go; you refused to lose his memory. So, for a heart-breaking while, you continued as per routine - cooking meals for two, fluffing up both sets of pillows in the evening, making one-sided small talk, or pursuing even deeper conversations about love and marriage. You would recite your dreams (night terrors, to be more accurate), tell him that you worried for his safety, lovingly whisper "goodbye" and "welcome home" as his work schedule dictated. You still included him in debates concerning your favourite shows. You still let him know that you would always, always give him the world. You still rubbed your stomach, wondering how the future would look.

You pushed everyone aside, until no-one was in your corner. No-one except him. No-one except a ghost, a shadow looming over your shoulder, a gentle endearment on the wind. It was merely survival.

And then...deep-seated anger started to fester. Why? Why had he deemed it necessary to leave? And when would he return? Had his love ever been genuine, or just a forgery? Why did he go? Where did he go? And why...why wasn't he saved? Someone should have saved him, right? Right...? A doctor, a hero? Someone?...Anyone?!

"I should never have given you my heart."

Bargaining followed shortly thereafter, and then depression, which lingered.

It lingered...and it pierced. Your heart was the victim, and your veins the conduits, transporting the blades. They stabbed and they splintered. It was physical, emotional, mental agony. You remembered every small detail, intricately. You never let a single thing escape your mind. From those adorably pointy, elf-like ears, to the shyness you found sad yet so endearing...you vowed never to forget anything. You couldn't move on. You couldn't reclaim your life. Perhaps he had taken your soul as a companion, and it now lay beside him, buried beneath the earth.

"All I ever asked for was a lifetime with you."

And a lifetime you may yet receive. You contemplated many...sacrilegious things whilst in the throes of despair and depression, and for not acting upon them, a reward was surely deserved? The universe listened to your plight, sometimes silent, sometimes violent, and decided that the torment was far too severe. Despite the immortality, your soul was young, and your heart pure. Your frustrations originated from loss. You weren't angry with the world. You were angry with quirks, with doctors and heroes, and with your own life.

But, a new era would herald change.

It would herald the reunion of two long-lost lovers, of a girl who scorned the very fabric of society for failing her dearest, and a boy consumed by anxiety.

It began, strangely enough, with the 3rd Year UA Sports Festival. It was by chance that you happened upon the coverage. You half-watched, noting the quirks as mediocre, uninteresting. The heroics students seemed to lead almost immediately, or so the commentator announced. You didn't really know, or care. To you, it was nothing but background noise. There was an untouched cup of coffee on the table, growing colder by the minute. You could have reached it...maybe. You didn't want to try. It wouldn't have been kind to your tongue.

Just as you sighed, the man behind the microphone yelled, "...And that's Tamaki Amajiki of Class 3-A! It seems he's...falling back? He was a favourite to win, this year. Maybe the pressure is catching up with him?"

Tamaki...Amajiki...

It was far from a familiar name, and as the painful years had dulled your eyes, which once sparkled with passion and curiosity, you were slow to notice...perhaps even hesitant. But when you did...it felt as though the hourglass-sand had frozen mid-drain. The rhythm of your heart gradually became more and more erratic, until you keeled over, clutching your chest. It was...fear, maybe? Disbelief? The memories of your time together, and of the time separated by a torturous death...everything crowded your mind in an instant. You stayed a woman of your word, never once forgetting him. But now...all the good, all the bad...they merged, and...you weren't sure how you were supposed to feel. How were you meant to react? This boy...this UA student, an aspiring hero...was he truly...?

Since when had the doctrine of reincarnation been anything but speculative...a concept created by religion, by people like you...people who just couldn't let go...?

But...your eyes certainly weren't deceptive. In all his elven glory, this boy...he was (M/n). Right...? He had to be! The similarities...they were uncanny. Those pointed ears, the ones you used to delight in teasing with both finger and tongue...the way he worried, about himself and others (this was shown as he helped another student during the obstacle race)...

Obviously, you didn't recognise the whole - just parts. But...once you calmed enough to judge with rationality, you were certain. Tamaki Amajiki...he was (M/n). It could hardly be explained - the fierce connection you felt, even through the screen. The devotion that still ignited your heart...and eventually, the joyful tears that spilled forth from your eyes. You never, ever expected this. It was...unheard of, surely? Still, it was reality - your reality. In that moment, you desired simply to break down the door of that arena and snatch up your beloved. You wanted to talk, you wanted to scream, to cry, to hug and kiss him...

He...he probably wouldn't appreciate a stranger doing such things, however. As a reincarnation, not the original...a copy, who looked similar, but not identical...he wouldn't have his former memories. He wouldn't know you. He might not experience that spark, the overwhelming confusion, the happiness...

And, what if he had...already found someone? Someone to cherish, to love and support? Someone whose curse wasn't perennial life? That would definitely be the final nail in the coffin. If he was spoken for, or you met and he felt nothing besides discomfort...then, and only then, would you give up. For this boy - he was Tamaki now, not (M/n) - you were willing to risk it all.

Finally, finally...you would accept (M/n)'s untimely fate. Tamaki was yours, he was (M/n) - you acknowledged this, with all your heart. But...he was allowed to be himself. Just...Tamaki. He was the same, yet completely different.

Well...perhaps your long-lost love wasn't quite so lost, after all.

[Word Count: 1240]

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

Ladyhawke: Genre and Themes

Castles?  Check.

Knights in armor?  Check.

Damsel in distress?  Check.

Magical curse?  Check.

A love fraught with obstacles?  Check.

Must be a fantasy romance, right?

At first glance, it does seem like Ladyhawke would certainly fit the description of being a fantasy romance film.  Navarre’s heroics and deep connection to his beloved Isabeau are aspects that wouldn’t be out of place in a story like Beauty and the Beast or other fairy-tales.  After all, their love is what drives the story, right?  It’s the main focus.  And as for fantasy, well, isn’t it obvious?  Knights on quests and evil curses?  Couldn’t be anything but fantasy.  

As I’ve said before, genre, the categorization of a film, is determined by more than the setting. It’s what goes on within the setting.  The style of story and progression of events have as much to say about the genre as where and when it takes place.  Our mission: take a look at what goes on in the film and deduce what genres it is, and what it is not.  (Mild spoilers below!)

At first, it may seem rather easy to figure out.  There’s curse-breaking and sword fights and castles and shape-changing.  There’s also an underlying theme of the value of true love, and a couple who never gives up on each other.

And yet, if you look this film up, the genre is listed as fantasy/adventure, with no sign of romance.

How can that be, when one of the major elements of the story is romance? It’s not like it’s a minor sub-plot. Navarre and Isabeau’s relationship is hugely important.  It’s the cause of their plight, and their end goal is, of course, to break the curse so they can be together.  So how, then, has the ‘main conflict’ been pushed to the sidelines in favor of the ‘adventure’ portion?

Well, I believe the answer for that is relatively simple.

The genre of the film depends on more than what happens within the film itself.  A film can include funny moments, or scary scenes, without turning them into a comedy or horror movie.  There can be a fight scene without the film becoming an action film, and a quiet moment does not a drama make.  So what makes the difference?

The difference is found in the focus of the story, more specifically, the main character.  And that’s the problem with categorizing Ladyhawke.

In The Wizard of Oz, the main character and the person who drives the plot is the same person: Dorothy Gale. In The Princess Bride, Buttercup and Wesley’s love is what pushes the story forward, and they are our main characters.  In Ladyhawke?

Navarre and Isabeau’s relationship drives the plot all right, but they aren’t the main focus.  Oddly enough, the character with the least involvement in the story is the main focus: Phillipe Gaston.  And that is where we get our classification.  It is his story, even if it might seem like he’s hijacking it from what appears to be the main focus, and in his relationship with the existing elements of the film, we find our genres.

Let’s start with the easy one: Fantasy.

At the beginning of the film, Phillipe’s journey is small-scale. It’s an escape from prison that gets accidently tangled in the journey of another character: Etienne Navarre. While Navarre is clearly a protagonist from a Heroic Fantasy story, he is not the main character in this one, yet it is his adventure that Phillipe ends up stuck in.  Drug from his little tale into a greater, grander one, Phillipe scrambles to keep up alongside a character from sword-and-sorcery tales. So although he doesn’t begin the story involved with fantasy, he ends up there.

A large portion of the movie shows Phillipe slowly becoming aware of the existence of magic, (rare as it is in this world) and figuring out what to do once he does find out.  In this, Ladyhawke is a bit of a departure from traditional fantasy films, as it is rather grounded in the real world.  The fighting is rough and tumble, the characters react and behave in realistic ways, and the use of magic is treated as something very rare, something that the Bishop has dredged up from a world beyond ours. Despite this different take on both the protagonist and the medieval, magical worlds commonly seen in films at the time, I believe Ladyhawke is exactly what is says it is: a fantasy.

See, the more involved Phillipe becomes in the story, the more the story itself becomes a Medieval European Fantasy.  As he is hauled along on Navarre’s quest, he’s exposed to the more ‘fantastical’ elements, such as the curse, and all of a sudden, Phillipe becomes involved of his own accord.  The film makes its full switch to Heroic Fantasy the moment the monk Imperius explains the curse to Phillipe, because Phillipe becomes officially involved with the fantastic situation.

At the same time, the further the story goes, the closer Phillipe becomes to a traditional fantasy protagonist.  While he begins the movie a self-concerned thief, he ends it…..well, still a thief, but a more selfless one.  More Robin Hood, less Marion Krane.  He doesn’t exactly follow the Hero’s Journey, but he does learn and grow closer to having similar ideals to more traditional characters of the style of story.

As for the other genres?

What I said before, about this film not being considered a ‘romance’? There’s a very simple explanation for that.  Phillipe isn’t part of the romance.

At the point in which Phillipe joins the actual action of the adventure, Navarre and Isabeau have been in love for years.  They don’t really need any help from him on that front. His job is to help them break the curse so that they can continue the romance. Since he’s not involved with that storyline, and since he is our main character, the romance isn’t the main focus of the story.  The adventure is.

The adventure aspect goes hand-in-hand with the fantasy, and takes center stage more than the love story does.  There are a handful of action-oriented scenes, but the main reason for its categorization here is the main thrust of the story: the Quest.

A large number of fantasy stories do, in fact, have a Quest, whether it’s saving a princess, reclaiming the throne, offing whichever Big Bad is oppressing the people, but in Ladyhawke, again, a familiar element is used in a slightly unusual way.  The Quest to kill the Bishop isn’t to free a people or right an injustice, it’s a tale of revenge, cold, calculating revenge. Navarre wants the Bishop to get what’s coming to him as payback for the curse.  Once again, in the same vein as the fantasy story, Phillipe is pulled in, and ends up contributing as much to coming to the end of the adventure as he does trying to deal with the curse.

So, how do we categorize Ladyhawke?

Magical Elements + Quest = Fantasy/Adventure.

Phillipe Gaston is a thief pulled into a fantasy adventure, along for the ride as he helps Navarre and Isabeau on their quest, and in so doing, is the main focus.  As a result, Ladyhawke reflects that, being a down-to-earth, semi-realistic take on a fantastical genre, combining the elements of adventure and magic together perfectly to create a surprising and refreshing twist on a story easily turned clichéd.  With that in mind, it’s kind of easy to see why this movie has endeared itself to such devoted fans after its less-than-stellar release.

What was different and a little tame in an era of big and loud sword-and-sorcery movies has become a fan-favorite exactly for those reasons.  Ladyhawke took a chance with its own spin on fantasy stories and genres, telling a grounded fairy-tale from a different perspective, creating a memorable movie experience that has garnered more appreciation in the years since its release, and will likely continue to gain praise as time goes on.

Join us in the next article, where we’ll be taking an in-depth look at the characters of Ladyhawke! If you enjoyed this, or have something you’d like to say, the ask box is always open.  Thanks so much for reading, and I hope to see you all in the next article!

[skaliciascribbles]

The Birth of a Demon

So I’ve been watching the Moon Blossom au and this week they gave a list of prompts, so of course this is my excuse to do nothing but write a bunch of content for it.

I may have zoned out for a while and gone a bit overboard...

Anyway, here’s Moon Blossom week - Bewitched Moon Blossom au belongs to @somebodyalreadytookthis2

Some would say he was possessed, but Sans was pretty sure he was still as clear-minded as before this all started. It wasn’t his research into “evil things” that was having a toll on his mental health. If anything, it was the bullying. Well, that and the passing of his brother which he suspected might’ve been caused by the very same person who led the bullying against him. There wasn’t much he could do with being one of the few monsters in this small village, and it was far enough away from the castle and its influence that anyone upset about something the royals were doing might seek to lash out at him simply for sharing an appearance with the princes.

His current obsession, and the reason people were beginning to avoid him more, was a demon. Demons were always said to be awful creatures, and yet he’d been seeing one regularly for months now. It wasn’t his fault he wanted answers, he was sure any sane individual would want to know more about the demon that appeared in their room at night with sweet-sounding offers. While the whole demon appearing to offer something enticing sounded about right for demons, it would always leave for the night with a small bow and a “call for your king if you change your mind” if he respectfully declined.

Any text about demons was something he did his best to get his hands on. Digging through the small library in the house of the village head to try and find anything that might help him or explain things to him. It was frustrating to him that all the books just talked about demons in broad strokes and referred to them all as volatile, bloodthirsty beasts that took pleasure in toying with mortals. Even the latest book he’d discovered which was supposedly about summoning the things. Not once was there a mention of demons going so out of their way to offer things to a mortal, nor a demon as polite as the one he’d met.

Closing his eyes, he could still picture the first night he’d met the demon with surprising clarity. It’d been after a particularly rough day. He’d broken down crying in a secluded corner of the village as the grief of his brother’s passing overwhelmed him, only to be found by his tormentors who’d lashed out at him worse than they’d ever done before that. After a day like that, a stranger in his bedroom hadn’t gotten much of a reaction out of him. In fact, the demon looked somewhat beautiful with the light of the full moon highlighting its inky form. The glowing blue eye was like a second moon as the two had watched each other. He could have gotten lost in that solitary eye, and probably would have, if it weren’t for the movement of the demon twirling what appeared to be a black rose in its fingers as it held the flower close to its chest.

“I know your plight,” the demon had said, “and I can offer you the power to oppose your oppressors. You’ll never have to live in fear again.” The voice had been deeper than he’d expected from the other, but it was a pleasant pitch that felt like it resonated within his chest.

He wasn’t sure how he’d ever found it in himself to speak, much less deny the demon. Though the denial was after a moment of hesitation he still felt bad for having. “I’m sorry, but I must decline. Accepting feels like admitting defeat, and I don’t want to let them win.” His voice had been even and calm, something he was even less sure of how he managed than his ability to speak at all.

“Very well.” The demon had nodded, then it gave a short bow to him that felt like something reserved for only those of higher class rather than something that should be aimed at a peasant such as himself. “Should you change your mind, simply call for your king.” With that, the demon had vanished in a blink. Gone into the shadows it appeared to be made of.

After that night, the demon would appear at seemingly random, though always after a bad day, to make the offer again. The exchange between the two of them felt almost routine at this point. Sans found himself finding some strange comfort in it whenever it happened. Any moment in the demon’s presence was comforting, but he couldn’t find it in him to break their exchanges to offer to let it stay. Not like he knew if it would accept a snack or drink, or if it even wanted to be around him beyond trying to get him to agree.

Sighing and opening his eyes, he looked towards the window. It was getting late out, so he’d have to end his search for the day. The book he was holding snapped shut and gently pushed back into place. It looked as though it’d be no use, but he kept a mental note of where about he’d been just in case. With a forlorn expression, he just rested his fingers along the book’s spine for a moment.

Footsteps quickly took off from just outside the door to the room making him cringe slightly. He hated how familiar he was with the gait of the villager head’s brat child. It was useful if he could catch it before it got to close as it usually meant trouble was coming as they led the torment against him. He had no doubt they were looking for some excuse for another reason to go after him, as they and their gaggle of mindless yes men friends had been quiet lately.

The walk had been blessedly quiet until his house was in sight. Just as he turned the corner to see it, the brat and their ‘friends’ were also suddenly right in his face. His next step was hesitant as he tried to think of a way out of the impending confrontation, but it was too late. “There’s the demon worshiper!” the brat yelled. Sans’s mind stuttered as he stopped in place while others from the village began to look over at the accusation. It was a weighty claim and not something you called somebody lightly.

Of course, that left the skeleton with only one way to reply. “What?” He couldn’t rid the dumbfounded tone from his voice as he watched the brat grin faintly as they stared back at him through a mop of neatly kept brown hair.

“He’s been reading books on demons for months, and today I saw him with a book on how to summon them! He clearly plans on cursing us all!” Sans didn’t know how to refute their claim. It was true that he’d been reading the books, but that was to research the demon that had been visiting him unprompted. Though saying such things while trying to deny the claims wouldn’t make him look any better. The fact that he’d met a demon face to face and was still alive would probably convince the people that he was some sort of demon worshiper.

Words failed him as the brat began to stalk towards him, calling at the villagers that they had to act now to rid their village of evil. Sans threw his hands up placatingly, trying to come up with anything to calm the quickly turning minds of those he’d grown up around as he backed up. At most he hated the village brat and perhaps their friends, but he didn’t hate the village as a whole. He’d never dream of cursing the only place he’d ever known.

A mob was slowly forming and they were driving him away from the safety his home could have temporarily offered. Panic was beginning to seep through his bones as frightened whispers mixed with jeers over the quick acceptance of the accusation. It didn’t take him long to realize what was happening. The brat saying to get rid of the evil was meant to spur the others towards the usual punishment for demon worships. He was going to die.

Hands grabbed at him, tugging him towards the village square. He struggled, pleading with those around him to stop. He wasn’t what they thought he was! He didn’t want to die!

As he was being drowned in a sea of chanting that had begun, calling for the demon worshiper to be purged, that the demon’s offer echoed in his head. If he did nothing, he would die. He’d rather admit defeat to the brat than die. He didn’t know what to say beyond the vague instructions to call for his king. Still, he took a deep breath.

“My king!” he shouted. “My king, I’ve changed my mind!” Despite his shouting, his voice was still lost among the crowd. He could only hope the demon somehow knew he was calling for it.

The shadows of the evening seemed to grow longer at his calling, growing a mind of their own as they began to twist. Startled cries began at the edges of the crowd as people stumbled over nothing and others caught sight of the strange phenomena. People both surging closer to the group for help, or scattering away to try and escape whatever was happening. Despite the noise, deep chuckling could still be heard rising above it all despite how low and calm it was.

“It’s a demon!” somebody cried in terror. “He’s already doomed us all!!” That had the crowd falling apart more as people hoped to escape what a demon might do to them. Sans was dropped in the chaos. He curled up on the ground, in hopes to avoid too much damage from being trampled.

Nothing touched him, despite the loud hysteria, and that caused him to slowly peak out of his protective position. Shadows swirled around him and would leap from the ground to lash out at anyone who grew near to his prone figure. Unthinking, he reached out a hand towards the darkness. It reached out back at him and twined harmlessly around his fingers. The cool touch oddly soothing, almost like it was eating away his fear and panic to leave only a gentle calm.

He looked up when the familiar voice of the demon spoke to him. “You chose an interesting moment to finally admit that defeat you’ve been avoiding.” A single glowing eye stared at him from the condensed darkness beside a nearby building. “However, I will not let you deny me now just because you’re safe.”

A quiet laugh left Sans. “Even if you left, they would just come back for me again.”

That appeared to satisfy the demon. It nodded before stepping from the shadows with a paper in its hands. “Gather the items on this list and return to your home. Only the foolish will dare approach you with the intent to lay hands upon you. Any that do shall be made forfeit.”

“I’ll be as fast as possible,” Sans said as he took the paper with care. Just a brief glance showed a list with the more uncommon items crossed out, and the remaining items were things he should be able to find quickly. He was pretty sure he had some of them at his home already.

Standing, he realized the demon had vanished. He supposed he better gather the items quickly so as to not upset the demon. Plus doing a short grocery run for a demon was a small price to pay for not dying.

Arms full of the seemingly miscellaneous items the demon had asked of him, Sans entered the small bedroom off of the main room of his home after the sun had already dipped below the horizon. The demon was already inside of it doing something on the ground. He made sure to carefully dance around whatever it was doing to place the items upon the bed. Shadows ate up the items he’d dropped off. Candles were arranged around the floor sporadically and lit the whole wooden surface which lit the room oddly, though part of that could be the seemingly sentient shadows moving about as well.

“Is that all?” he asked the demon as he turned to inspect what it was doing to his floor. Dark markings streaked about with strange runes he couldn’t read scrolling off in odd angles. It was beautiful if a bit strange.

The demon didn’t spare him a glance. “Stand in the middle,” it directed as it flipped a page of a thick aged tome. Not seeing the harm in a simple action, Sans followed orders and stepped carefully into the spot where the patterns seemed to flow towards. A brief glance and nod was his only assurance that he was right in his guess.

Unsure of what else to do, he simply watched the demon work as silence fell between the two of them. The movements it made were transfixing, but the demon’s familiar flower wasn’t in its hands. If it weren’t for the candlelight, he probably would have missed the fact that it was gently tucked into the sharp crown that sat upon the demon’s head. It was almost cute in how it reminded him of the frazzled old human who kept inventory tucking their writing utensil behind their ear only to forget where it was later. He only said almost because calling a demon cute seemed like a bad idea. Especially when he had no idea what the demon was doing.

Eventually, the demon stood. It held out its hand and Sans took the quiet message and held out his hands in return. Confusion pinched at his brow when soft black petals fell into his palm. “Place them in your mouth.” Sans wasn’t sure it was safe, but from his research on demons, he knew that the demon wouldn’t attempt to kill him until it gave him what it had promised him. With that to comfort him, he complied. The petals were strangely sweet in his mouth.

With the old tome in its hands, the demon began to speak in a language foreign to the monster. As he spoke, the sweetness in Sans’s mouth strengthened. The lines upon the ground had the colour of the demon’s eye begin to race through them, starting at the edges and working in towards him. He forced himself to watch as he repeated that the demon wouldn’t kill in his mind.

One of the demon’s hands reached out as it continued to speak. That same blue colour filling the lines began to overtake the white glow of what had been removed from him. Strangely enough, he could feel a cold discomfort as the colour and shape of whatever it was changed. His head was also feeling light and strange as if somebody was actively shoving cotton into it.

Wavering on his feet, Sans closed his eyes.

The newly born demon opened his eyes slowly. Fingers twitched as he looked slowly at the one who’d changed him. The other was watching him with a wide grin. “It’s just occurred to me that I never asked before now for the name of my new servant.”

Despite having all the memories of his past life, the new demon felt its old name was not enough for what it’d become. “You may call me… Killer, my liege.” The other nodded.

“Very well Killer, I have given you power. All I ask in return is you offer your services to me. I have grand plans, and they would do well with you to aid me.” The request was simple as far as the now named Killer believed. While he’d been blind before, he knew now that this was the king of demons himself.

He gave a low bow. “It would be an honour to serve you, my king. If I might be selfish enough to request one more thing? I’d like to use my power for the reason you gave it to me”

The king was silent for a moment. “If it would entertain you, my new demon lord.” Killer grinned. A village to torment as it had tormented his past self and being gifted a position as one of the lords of the demon king’s court? Truly today was the best he’d ever experience.

[gogoseabrook]

Zeddison - Hello kisses: After long periods apart, these can include A picking up B and spinning them around. Fingers pressing into cheeks, palms cupping necks, and breathless laughs when they finally come up for air.

Kisses Prompts

1. The first was winter.

The Wells family reunion took place across state lines, and as much as Addison had begged and pleaded, there was nothing she could do.

They were left with nothing but skype and texts for three full weeks.

Until that day.

Zed waited at the airport, bouquet of white roses, pink tulips and dandelions in hand, hopping from foot to foot waiting for the arrivals. It didn’t take long to spot his girl, wheeling her pink suitcase ahead of her family, frown in place as she stomped off unabashedly even with her parents hissing and whispers.

Her frown didn’t last long once he called her name. The clatter of her falling luggage was lost to the hubbub of the airport as she sprinted across the tiled floor, beaming smile growing with every step until they crashed together, Zed’s arms open long before she reached him. Picking her up and spinning her around, the lost pieces of his heart knitted themselves back into place, face buried in her neck.

They pulled apart, only for Addison to loop her arms around his neck, tugging him down until their lips met.

The people filling the airport faded to static in the back, and even the threat of Addison’s parents approaching didn’t deter them from winding around each other, their ever growing smiles the only thing threatening to break them apart, locked together in the middle of the arrivals lounge.

It was good to be home.

2. Spring drew them apart and brought them together once again.

This time, Zed was pulled away. His mother’s side of the family had never been convinced by the monster laws, sliding beyond the state lines to seek a better life. And with the new restrictions lifted, they hadn’t taken long to insist they join them after so long apart.

Addison had encouraged them to go. They’d still be together once term started again. It was only a week, after all.

They could handle a week.

Except Zed’s family didn’t live among people. They didn’t trust them. Not after everything. Not after what they’d done to them, after suffering and enduring all they had done.

She’d survived 14 years without him before.

It took a week to see why it wasn’t really living at all.

The day school began anew, she’d been quietly pinning more photos up in her locker, tracing his features. The day at the beach, both soaking after he’d tossed her into the clear waters. The lake, and their afternoon learning to skip stones. At home, cuddled up with him fast asleep and more beautiful than she’d ever seen him before.

He’d called her name in his dreams.

The memory echoed down the hallway, and it took a while for Addison to look away from her love. Only to see her happiest memories reflected back as he stood, tall and perfect as always, eyes glowing in a way photos would never fully replicate.

Home.

She wasn’t sure who took off first, but they collided in the middle of the corridor, unashamedly jumping into his arms, Zed catching her with such confidence she couldn’t help but swoon as they crashed together, laughing raucously, heads thrown back in unadulterated joy until he pulled her down for a kiss. His arm kept her secure around him, even as his fingers reached to cradle her cheek, pressing oh-so lightly into her skin in time to whispered declarations of love against each other’s lips, swearing silent secrets only they could understand.

Nothing could ever compare.

3. The third time was summer break.

Summer camps were in full swing. Zed had been snatched up for a college football program only a fool would turn down, meanwhile Addison was off doubling up with her own college programs and the strict Mighty Shrimp schedule (Bucky’s ‘no days off’ mentality refusing holiday exceptions of any kind). It had been weeks since they’d been able to be together beyond collapsing on the sofa and napping until they had to answer the door for their takeout.

Until that day. The weather was horrendous. Torrential rain, thunder, lightning, the works. Zed had been halfway home when the heavens opened, coming across Chief Wells by sheer coincidence as the skies darkened and thunder ripped through the too-still air. Soaked to the skin, it hadn’t taken long for the Chief to take pity and insist he hole up at their home for the night, regardless of the hissed argument he’d had with his wife for a solid 30 minutes on their arrival.

So that’s why they were there, rain hammering on the windows outside as Zed crept upstairs, pushing open the door to find Addison, fast asleep by the light of a single lamp. Her lashes had fluttered open the second he perched on the bed, and it hadn’t taken much persuasion for Zed to lean down and bring her into a lingering kiss.

Every missed hour and agonizing second apart was poured into that single touch. Unlike before, the moment lingered soft over their skin, blanketing them as he perched beside the woman he loved, Addison pushing up onto her elbows as they deepened their embrace, fingers curling around his hair and dragging herself up, his hand in the small of her back guiding her the rest of the way as he cradled her cheek.

Maybe hours passed, lost to the crack of thunder and the flare of the lightning. Maybe moments, the power blinking out the second Zed had arrived in the house. Perhaps eons passed, condensed into seconds of eternity. All they needed was each other, and the knowledge that after so long, they were finally holding each other the way they were always meant to.

Their shadows melted into one across the walls, breaking down the barriers in the gaps between darkness and light.

4. Fall brought a season of closeness they’d been missing earlier in the year.

Study dates for the upcoming exam season meant cuddles in the library, sprawling across the floor together trying to grapple with history or maths or some other subject they weren’t completely sold on, but worked hard to understand regardless.

It meant long walks through cold evenings, purple and pink clouds streaked overhead in the dying sunlight, golden light drifting through leaves of fire as they burned and fell to earth in warning of the winter to come. They huddled into parkas, sharing mittens and kicking through piles of leaves, readying for the season of witches and monsters through planned movie marathons and haunted houses that had them gasping with laughter and shrieking with delight as they barrelled through on a rare day off.

Until flu season reared its head.

Addison was the first to succumb (zombie genes coming in handy for immunity in general), and her parents all but quarantined her, secluding her from the world until she was safe. Dale had told Zed when he stopped by about the worries her hair meant she might suffer worse than others, whispered worries of her suffering keeping Zed from her side, instead passing on flowers and well wishes through her parents (although at least Dale seemed to be growing to appreciate him, even if his wife was a lot more reluctant. He’d take what he could get.)

Two torturous weeks apart filled his time. Walks in the park were bleak; brown leaves crunching underfoot as he kicked his way through un-raked paths, the chill of the air leaving his breath misting. Headaches from studies and aching muscles from football didn’t ease, instead lingering just beneath his skin as he tried to push through his subjects as best he could. Zed was ready to toss his books at the wall when his salvation lit up the night:

My window’s open. Get over here before I lose my mind.

He wasn’t sure how he made it to her house so fast, but he was halfway through her window before he knew any time had passed. Addison was already waiting for him, coughing a little as he pulled himself into her room, sliding it closed with a gentle click.

She wasn’t looking well, a pale cast to her skin and dark circles under her eyes as she coughed, sniffling before bundling herself into his arms. She shivered as he wrapped himself around her, breathing in her presence. To just be, even for a moment, was enough.

“I missed you.” She was croaky, but sounded better than she had over the phone a few days ago. He kissed the top of her head.

“I missed you too. More than anything.” He brushed her hair away from where it clung to her forehead. “How’re you feeling?”

Her touch burned as she rested her palm on his neck. “Better now you’re here.” He was already leaning in, but for the first time she pulled back. “I’m all gross.”

“Never.” He held her closer still. “You’re always perfect.” Her eyes engulfed him as he leant back in, Addison melting into his touch as their lips pressed together, soft and tender. They stayed like that, never deepening it, but revelling in the emotions that twined them together, the forever they couldn’t explain to anyone, but knew would always be there between them.

Sometimes, that alone made being apart worth it.

5. Winter burned.

Addison couldn’t make it through the crowds fast enough. Not for the first time, she cursed her own diminutive height, pushing and shoving through the crowds of bodies pressing against her.

No. No. Nononono.

No one stopped her, falling to elbows and hands that clawed and ripped away every barrier and boundary, crashing through trembling forms and blowing them down.

She choked on her breath, heart swallowing her from the inside until she was forced to the floor by her own hectic plight. The scrape against her knees meant nothing as her eyes turned skywards.

The smoke was barely visible against the black of the night, blotting out the stars and moon altogether.

It took a second for her to realise she was the one screaming, raw anguish pulling at her chest, leaving her to surge forwards towards burning heat and blinding light.

She’d never seen a fire that big before. It wasn’t what she’d expected.

There were no artful flames lighting up the windows, carefully burning up the building in a brilliant golden halo. Nothing to silhouette figures against, amber and crimson spreading to gold and pure white in the blaze. No, the real thing was dark and murky, the brilliance of the flames suffocated by pungent smoke, smelling only of burning plastic and wood and all other things; acrid and stinging her eyes, leaving her coughing and spluttering through her screams.

Arms tackled her to the ground before she could reach the Necrodopolis house. Addison thrashed, clawing at the hands that pet her hair and tried to soothe her. It wasn’t enough. She needed to find him. She needed him. It was too much.

She wondered dimly how it looked; the blaze climbing with each passing second, good Samaritans throwing water on it to stem the blaze as best they could. They had access to services now, but it wasn’t like they’d ever prioritise a zombie call.

Not even on a quiet night.

All that she could do was scream and cry, hearing the pop and snap of wood collapsing in, memories burned to charred ashes on the wind.

The arms around her were ripped away, fingers curling under her chin to force her away from the blaze.

Desperate dark eyes filled her vision, green hair sweaty and stuck to his forehead, black soot on one cheek and his sleeve ripped off, bandages in its place.

That was all she could comprehend before tackling the love of her life with a strangled cry, knocking them to the cobbles in front of the blaze. His arms were crushing against her, nails digging into her scalp as they kissed, desperate and hungry and too full to let any one emotion define it, crashing against each other with so much inside their hearts.

The roof caved in across the street.

She could taste the salt of his tears, feel her own still falling thick and fast, neither able to deepen it any further for the sobs straining to escape their chest.

“I-I thought…”

“I know.” He pulled her closer still until it felt like her ribs were going to break.

The sensation was nothing short of heaven.

“I was so scared I’d never see you again.” He whispered the words like a prayer. “I- I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“I- I had to...I knew you weren’t, but I had to-!” She cradled his face, dragging him forwards. “You’re everything to me.”

It wasn’t certain when dawn would kiss the evening sky, or if they’d ever see it. If they’d find their way out of the dark to a new morning. It wasn’t sure if the sun would rise with its warmth and promise of the future, or what would be left to bear witness when it did. But against the choking smoke, the guttering amber flaring bright with golden pain, they’d still found each other.

It was all they needed, whatever came next.

[wackygoofball]

Moodboard: Jaime x Brienne - The Host AU

Jaime knows his days are counted when he is brought into one of those white-tiled rooms at the enemy’s HQ.

The Souls be damned.

At least the others escaped, he saw to that when the Souls stopped them on a mission. Tyrion and Davos will have taken Arya, Pod and the rest back to the hideout by now, so at the very least the rebellion can continue without him.

While not surprised, Jaime is still less than pleased to meet Stannis Baratheon, one of those bastards who decided to side with this alien race that invaded Planetos and takes over people’s bodies as they please to assume leadership over the world as they know it. Stannis let a Soul willingly take over, a Soul known as Melisandre, or as the rebellion calls her, “the boss bitch”. While Melisandre leaves him more or less in control over his actions, Stannis is just like them, and that means to Jaime that he has to go like every other bloody Soul.

Though sadly, that will soon include himself, as Stannis informs him. They will make him a Host as well. Jaime fights against the procedure as best as he can – because sure as hell will he go down fighting – but as he finds the Soul they brought in manifest itself inside him, he suddenly hears a none too kindly voice cursing him to stop the folly.

Listen. If you let me in, I will get you out of here, the voice tells him. But of course, Jaime doesn’t buy into that cheap kind of trick.

Because that’s some bullshit, lady.

You must understand this one thing: They will have a Soul inhabit your body no matter what you do. The only choice you can currently make is to let me in or wait for someone who does not ask first. I understand that you have no reason to trust me. And I don’t ask you to. I am asking for a truce.

How would I have a truce with some alien I don’t even know?

The name is Brienne and I am trying to help you – but all of that will be over soon if you don’t do anything. You can’t withstand much longer.

I am strong enough.

Right now you are not. I can ensure that you will remain conscious, just inside your own head, but I have to take over or they will realize the ruse. That’s all I have to offer, but I can promise you that I will bring you back home, even if it kills me.

Well, funny enough that will kill me as well, so I don’t fancy that alternative much.

Jaime, well aware that he is out of alternatives, lets “Brienne” take control, which puts him into the “backseat” of his own mind while Brienne calls the shots, telling a very pleased Melisandre and Stannis that she completed the mission and awaits new instructions.

“I am glad to see that you finally prove to be the god soldier you are supposed to be, Brienne, one who knows her place.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Though actually, not so much. Brienne stands true to her word and flees from the HQ the first opportunity she gets. And contrary to what Jaime feared, his mind remains alive, as Brienne did not seek full control over his mind and body, even though he will make sure to use any opportunity to be an ass about it.

And so, the long walk back home begins. In the middle of the Dornish desert, the rebellion built an underground haven to live and plan future strikes against the Souls taking over.

Though I still don’t understand why you are helping us.

Haven’t you heard? I am more of a rebel myself.

How comes?

Disagreements with the management.

Just that? Really?

I wasn’t the only one. We rebelled against Melisandre. She betrayed all ideals us Wanderers used to stand for.

Wanderers?

That was what we were before she made us nothing but Souls. We wandered across galaxies and tried to save life as we knew it.

By playing puppet master with people?

By learning what it takes to be human.

Jaime cautions Brienne that she won’t have an easy welcome, granted that they even make it to the desert without being caught – or nature killing them before they reach the hideout. He tells her that they have better chances by not telling the rest of the team that he is still in there but instead inform them that she took a hold of his body and that his consciousness supposedly faded in the process but that she wants to join their side and help them take down the HQ. As things currently stand, Jaime can’t take possession of his own body again, and until he can – which is a big what if – they’d do best not to upset the others any more than they will be anyway.

After all, Souls are not to be trusted.

On the verge of dehydration, the two reach the hideout. Though there is, as expected, no warm welcome, even less so when Arya decides to knock them in the back of the head when she catches the silver circle in Jaime’s eyes, which is a sure sign that a Soul took possession of a Host. Davos tells her to leave him and bring him to the hideout instead. As expected, Brienne is the hideout’s most wanted, and not in a good way.

Arya is perhaps most against them. As Jaime explains to Brienne, the reason why she has even more misgiving for the Souls than most others is that they killed nearly all of her family, safe for her “stupid sister” who joined Stannis for all they know.

As the two try to make a plan for how to go about their new situation, Brienne makes a point that they won’t ever trust her intentions to actually start a revolution amongst her own kind if she doesn’t do anything to prove her loyalty to their cause. Jaime is at a loss, but Brienne eventually comes to the conclusion that Sansa may be the key. She saw Sansa at the HQ and hopes that maybe they can convince her to come back with them. She may have important intel and it would help them to get Arya onboard.

Maybe.

You don’t know how to inspire confidence, you know?

I am just not fond of lying.

Which explains why you are so piss-poor at it.

While the mission proves more than dangerous, they eventually succeed in bringing Sansa Stark back home. And along the way, the two have to realize that they fight much better together than apart, even though it demands of Jaime to adapt his ways of fighting and support rather than lead.

Arya actually starts to trust Brienne thereafter, if cautiously so, even though things are tensed between the sisters even after the reunion. And while those two work through their issues, Jaime demands some hard truths from Brienne at last, as she tends to evade questions about who she truly is and what this is all about. In the end, Brienne has to give in.

We were very much like you. A humanoid race from a faraway planet, trying its best to live our lives.

Wait, you had an actual body before? You weren’t always those white, glowing parasites?!

While I tend to disagree with the description, yes, we weren’t always like that.

Then why did you all decide it was time for a makeover?

Not all of us took on this shape. We were selected few. The Wanderer Program was founded to save our world from extinction. Fewer and fewer children were born in every generation until we reached the breaking point. Our race grew sterile, if you will. And life as we knew it was on the verge of destruction. The Wanderers were meant to travel to faraway galaxies and find species like us, analyze their physiologies and social interactions and find out how they manage to battle global sterility. For such travel, we had to give up our bodies. They couldn’t possibly survive such a long trip across worlds. We wanted to find life again. Or so we thought… because some of us had a different idea. They wanted power. They wanted to exploit life. And they realized that the Wanderer Program, which succeeded to alter DNA in such a way that the soul could transcend the body, were the means of gaining control.

Power is a bitch.

I believed in the program, in what we did. Until I saw what they did to Renly.

Renly Baratheon?

Yes, he was my Host before we two… teamed up involuntarily.

To put it mildly. What of Renly, then?

He was no part of the rebellion, you may know. Yet, he was against Stannis and his practices. Through Renly, I learned more and more about what was behind the program I once joined in an effort to preserve life, not destroy it. Other Souls of the program formed a group, but one of them reported us… and as a result, the Hosts were all brutally murdered while we were still connected.

So you… witnessed Renly’s death as your own.

Yes. He died because of me. And after that, they put me in detention, telling me that I’d only ever get out if I learned my place. Until the day I met you. And that changed everything.

So what’s the goal for you now? Once we take on the HQ? What’s the next step?

Go back home and fix our problems. Pick up with where we left off with our mission. I found such goodness in people. I saw human compassion, friendship, love. And that is what I’d want to take home, even if I failed to find a solution to my race’s plight.

You are definitely the strangest Soul I ever met.

And you are the strangest Host I ever met.

Perhaps a truce is possible after all.

Only time will show.

And while Jaime and Brienne continue to bond, crisis is underway when Brienne learns of Tyrion’s “experiments” to separate Host and Soul, killing both in the process. Brienne is absolutely mortified, as Jaime knew about this, but didn’t ever tell her.

Though they soon have to leave that aside as well as the rebellion’s next strike is moving forward fast. Along the way, they learn some shocking news that may transform the very nature of their mission to a full-fledged rescue mission of a kind no one ever thought would happen as Souls have to fight for Hosts and Hosts for Souls.

Brienne and Tyrion form a fragile peace, though she leaves Tyrion with a baffling message before she heads out:

“I can help you complete your research, but only to my conditions. Once it’s all done.”

Though only time will show if she can reveal that information to him and if, indeed, the soul can transcend the body.

Or rather, if love can.

[esonetwork]

Timestamp #214: The Vampires of Venice

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/timestamp-214-the-vampires-of-venice/

Timestamp #214: The Vampires of Venice

Doctor Who: The Vampires of Venice (1 episode, s05e06, 2010)

There’s something fishy in the waters of Venice.

Meanwhile in the TARDIS, Part II

The Doctor gets Amy back into the TARDIS where she continues trying to seduce him. While he tries to work the console, proclaiming to be a mix between Gandalf and Yoda, Amy points out just how much a a typical guy he is.

The Doctor tells her that he just can’t see it anymore. He’s lost the wonder. Everything is just… stuff. He wants Amy to help open his eyes to the wonders again.

Amy takes this as a clue that she’s not the first companion. When she asks how many of them were girls, the Doctor dances around the question, so Amy brings up the visual records with a little trick. The TARDIS obliges, showing her only the women who have traveled with the Doctor.

The Doctor decides to go find Rory, who is at his bachelor party.

The Vampires of Venice

In Venice, 1580, Guido presents his teenage daughter Isabella to Rosanna Calvierri and her son, Francesco. Isabella is seeking entrance to Rosanna’s school, and when it is granted, Rosanna takes the young woman promptly.

As Guido leaves the room, Isabella is inspected before Francesco reveals himself as a vampire.

Four centuries in the future, Rory is enjoying his bachelor party until the Doctor pops out of a cake instead of the expected stripper. The Doctor reveals that Amy tried to kiss him, but it’s okay because she is a great kisser.

It sounded better in his head, you know.

Some time later, the Doctor is working on the TARDIS console as he offers relationship advice to the young couple. He also offers to take them to any location so they can get away together. He decides on Venice, a bit perturbed that Rory understands the “bigger on the inside” concept.

He goes on for a spell about the founding and history of Venice, including a note to avoid Casanova, before running into a guard who asks for traveling credentials in an attempt to stop the plague. The travelers use the psychic paper to bypass the checkpoint – Rory is apparently the Doctor’s eunuch – before running into Guido and learning about Isabella’s plight.

In the school’s courtyard, Francesco tries to convince his mother that they have more than enough converts, but she’s not convinced at all. He later trawls the streets looking for another victim. The subsequent screams draw Amy and Rory. After spotting the vampire fangs, Amy gives chase.

The Doctor breaks into the school and encounters a group of female vampires, impressed by their lack of reflections. They ask who he is and he shows them a library card, so they vamp out to chase him away. He runs into Amy and Rory. Amy and the Doctor are excited about the vampires, but Rory is appalled.

Amy and the Doctor strategize with Guido on how to get into the school undercover. The Doctor and Rory argue that Amy shouldn’t be the one to go in, but she spins an elaborate cover story. Rory does not like the idea of the Doctor posing as her fiancé, so Amy and Rory pose as siblings to gain Rosanna’s favor. One flash of the psychic paper later and Amy’s matriculated.

She soon finds Isabella and learns about being strapped to a chair for a procedure that she cannot remember. All she knows is that the sunlight now burns her skin. As Amy looks for a way in for her traveling companions, Guido (in Rory’s stag party shirt) takes the Doctor and an apprehensive Rory to meet her.

They talk about Amy’s relationship with the Doctor while the Time Lord shows off his huge UV light. Rory challenges the Doctor about his attitude that makes people take risks to impress him. They also discover a corpse that it completely drained of all fluids before being ambushed.

Amy gets captured and taken to Rosanna where she is confronted about the psychic paper. Amy is strapped down and bitten by Rosanna. The headmistress explains that they drink the girls dry and replace their blood with that of their own kind. Amy kicks Rosanna, exposing a perception filter and the vampire’s true nature.

Yep, they’re aliens.

Isabella rescues Amy and the travelers escape into the sunlight. The Doctor tries to go back for Isabella but is attacked by an electric shock. As the morning continues on, Isabella is forced into the canal behind the school where she is eaten alive by the males of the species who are hiding beneath the water’s surface.

Rosanna returns to her throne room to find the Doctor waiting for her. He has deduced she is from Saturnyne. She’s using a perception filter to appear human and they share a common identity as alien refugees. Rosanna’s planet was consumed by the cracks in time, and while fleeing the Silence, they ended up on Earth. Rosanna asks for the Doctor’s help in rebuilding her species, but he only wants to know what happened to Isabella. Rosanna disavows Isabella, remarking only that all traitors must be killed. As the Time Lord is escorted out, he shouts that he will stop her. If only because she didn’t know Isabella’s name.

With a malfunctioning perception filter, Rosanna assembles her girls in the courtyard and prepares to wage war. Meanwhile, the Doctor reunites with Guido and his traveling companions and hashes out Rosanna’s plan. He deduces that she plans to sink Venice and give rise to a new Saturnyne.

The “vampires” pick that moment to assault Guido’s home, forcing the heroes to flee. Guido commandeers the UV light and locks himself inside, luring the girls to his gunpowder stash which he uses to destroy the invaders at the expense of his own life.

As Rosanna begins her plan, the Doctor forces Amy to return to the TARDIS. Rory thanks the Doctor and pursues her as the Time Lord returns to the school and tries to stop Rosanna’s machine. He finds it deadlock sealed, but even the news that her daughters are dead doesn’t dissuade the headmistress.

Rory and Amy find a detour in Francesco. Rory fights him while Amy uses her compact mirror to disintegrate the alien in a burst of sunlight. Amy kisses Rory in celebration before they both rush off to help the Doctor.

The Time Lord is miffed about Rory’s change of heart, but he soon leaves them in charge of dismantling the throne as he ascends the bell tower after Rosanna. He ascends to the spire and stops the weather machine before finding Rosanna on the canal’s edge.

The matriarch’s perception filter has failed, locking her in her human form. She prepares to dive to her death, and as the Doctor rushes to stop her, she tells him that he’ll have to live with the death of her species on his conscience. She then jumps into the water and is consumed.

The Doctor, Amy, and Rory return to the TARDIS. Seeing Amy’s excitement and her apprehension about the wedding, Rory offers to break off their engagement. Amy replies that he should travel with them, and the Doctor agrees.

As they are about to leave, silence falls around the Doctor, an omen of the darkness still surrounding them.

This is a tough story to consider. On the one hand, the story is quite average with a small connection to the ongoing thread about the Doctor being the last of his kind. This story would have played well in the Tennant era which leaned heavily on the Doctor pledging to prevent another such genocide. It also plays well here, both as a counterbalance to Matt Smith’s portrayal of a younger, hip, almost laissez-faire Doctor and as a fulfillment of his promise to never be cowardly or cruel, and to never give up or give in.

On the other hand, we have some great (and tough to handle) character development with this twisted triangle. As much as I despise the attempted seduction of the Doctor by Amy, it opens the door to some dramatic friction. Amy’s attracted to the Doctor, but the Doctor isn’t interested in her. Rory loves Amy and she seems to love him, but she’s not quite ready to settle down. The Doctor’s interests reside with unraveling the mysteries surrounding these two while helping them to find each other.

But the biggest source of friction is how poorly Amy treats Rory. She seems irritated that the Doctor brought him in, but seems excited to be with Rory on a wedding-gift vacation. It all comes back to the Doctor, however, because they are there purely because of time travel and Amy immediately gravitates back to the adventure instead of guiding and mentoring her future husband.

Let’s be frank: Rory needs reassurance about their relationship and Amy is either ignorant or reluctant to provide it. She’s not holding up her end of the Pond-Williams team and effectively leaving Rory alone in the storm roiling around them.

I wish that she would treat Rory better because I really love the chemistry between Karen Gillan and Matt Smith, but that amazing connectivity is blunted by Amy’s disregard for Rory, who seems to be a really sharp and grounded character.

I loved a lot of the mythology touches throughout the episode, from the First Doctor library card to the Doctor’s continued fear of heights. A closer look at the library card reveals that it was issued to “Dr. J. Smith”, continuing the John Smith alias into the Hartnell era, and was registered to 76 Totter’s Lane in Shoreditch, London. The story also swerved into meta territory with the jokes about Casanova, which touches on both David Tennant and guest star Helen McCrory.

We also cannot forget that the Doctor has plenty of experience with vampires and blood-drinkers, including State of Decay, The Curse of Fenric, and Smith and Jones.

I bounced back and forth for a while on the score for this one, but finally settled on my modus operandi of rounding up.

Rating: 4/5 – “Would you care for a jelly baby?”

UP NEXT – Doctor Who: Amy’s Choice

The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.

[captainillogical]

Devil’s Ballroom ch.2

A year after the events from the earth’s final attack, Little Homeworld is finally complete, and there’s a new jazz bar where gems and humans mingle and drink. - As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.

Spinel/Reader

collab with wife @firstofficertightpants

The place actually happened to be like, right on the edge of Little Homeworld. Outside had full glass windows, tall, that reached the ceiling. Inside the lighting was dim, and a bit smokey. You figured it looked alright enough to head in, and gave the bouncer your ID. He nodded and you walked in. It smelt of cigars, and of cinnamon, and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. A pretty woman in a low-cut red dress was playing the piano on the stage, and it was some contemporary jazz piece. The low murmur of people talking filled the air in between the swells of music, and the place actually seemed busy with people and even gems enjoying themselves. You liked the vibe. It was.. comfortable. At ease. You looked over at the bar, rather than any of the tables, and saw a spot near the end. Perfect. Right by the bathroom. You headed over and plopped down on the stool. There were three empty at the end, so you took the one in the middle, which had the best view of the stage from back here.

While waiting for the bartender to come back down this side, you took the chance to look  at the people around you. A couple familiar faces.. small town you know? And some new ones. New gems too. You can see Mr. Fryman sitting at a table with Kofi and Nanefua, and they look like they’re playing poker. You try not to snicker since Kofi looks absolutely blasted, and Mr. Fryman is cursing up a storm because Nanefua is clearly winning. You see her wink at Mr. Fryman. You suspect a rigged game.

Your phone chimes a couple times. You pull it out of your bag, and check to see who’s bothering you. Ah. The group chat.

    Alex: ughhh you guys my gmas killing me

    Alex: no seriously mexico fucking blows rn 

    Alex: i cant step outside without feeling like my balls are melting off my body

    Alex: and my brother won’t stop listening to the book of mormon soundtrack

    Alex: im going insane

Your friends are so melodramatic. You type out a couple of replies.

    Y/N: You should be used to mexican summers by now, you go every year.

    Y/N: And for the record, your brother is valid. Book of Mormon slaps.

    Alex: what the fuck youre supposed to be on my side u ass

    Alex: i thought our special thing was wicked. OUR SPECIAL THING, Y/N

    Y/N: I’m allowed to like multiple things. Including musicals. 

    Alex: never. fuck you. also what are you even doing rn come play minecraft with me

    Y/N: Yeah as much as I’d like to, I can’t.

“Y/N! So you finally came to see what this place is all about! What can I get ya?” you hear a familiar voice ask. Turning around to face the voice, you see Bismuth wearing her usual overalls and a rather nice looking bow tie. 

“Hey Bis, how’s it going? I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s nice. And uh, I’ll just take a hard cider for now.” You smile at her and set your phone down for a minute.

“Thank you! After we finished Little Homeworld, I had to find something else to focus on in my down time.” She explains while grabbing your drink from the fridge under her side of the bar, and opens it. “So tell me,” She sits the drink in front of you and leans on the counter. “What brings you out here today?”

You take a rather long sip from your drink before meeting the large gems eyes. On the stage, a tall, beardy man replaces the woman that just finished her piece. He immediately starts this jaunty, irish tune. He’s singing loudly, and it’s not bad. A couple of people are clapping to the tune.

“I just really needed to get out.” You replied, taking another sip from your drink. “I was kinda hoping I’d meet someone new, maybe get another friend to hang out with, since my friends wanted to ditch me this summer.” As you’re saying this, more people join the clapping. It’s getting a bit rowdy. “Or maybe at least get drunk enough to forget how lonely I feel.” You add, shrugging. 

“Well, I can supply the drinks, and at least a bit of company.” Bismuth winks, and turns to the patron 6 seats up waving her over. 

You check your phone again, and there’s more from Alex. AND Harper? She must still have phone service wherever she’s at.     Alex: what are u fuckin doin that so important that u cant play minecraft with ur best friend

    Harper: yeah, Y/N. the heck. Also alex, get lost, she’s MY best friend bitch

    Alex: u had ur chances but u left us so we’re a duo now. u can go

    Harper: excuse me!? I WILL end you.

    Y/N: Oh my god, chill. I’m just out right now, so I can’t okay? 

    Y/N: And nice of you to join us, Harper.

    Harper: fuck you I miss you okay. And I miss constant wifi :(

    Alex: OUT!? What do you mean OUT. its night. u play games with ME during this time

    Alex: for real what the fuck are you doing

    Harper: yeah, you don’t go out without us. Wtf are you doing?

    Y/N: I’m at a bar!!     Alex: WHAT

    Alex: dont tell me its the one place that just opened

    Alex: Y/N do NOT betray me you TOLD ME you were gonna go with me!!

    Y/N: I was. But I was also bored and you’re both gone, soooo. 

    Alex: wow

    Alex: i cant believe youve done this to me

    Harper: hmmm. ;)

    Harper: hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ;)

    Y/N: What.

    Harper: you tryin to find girls again? 

    Harper: like that one time you went to empire city just to peruse the mall?

    Alex: LMAOOOOO

    Y/N: No.

    Alex: LMAOOOO Y/N GOOD LUCK TRYING TO FIND A GF LOLL

    Y/N: I’m not trying to find a girlfriend you fucks. Christ.

    Y/N: Also Alex, you’re one to talk. You can’t KEEP a girlfriend.

    Alex: ur just mad i have a passionate and intimate relationship w/ my hand

    Y/N: And it will probably stay that way. 

    Y/N: Besides, so far, no one cute here. So it’s a bust.

    Harper: a bust. Lmfao u just outed yourself :)

    Y/N: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

You put your phone down before seeing whatever Alex attempts to reply back with. It sounds like the current boisterous song is coming to a close, and really, most of the people here are clapping along with this guy. It’s fun. And despite the playful ribbing from your shit-talking friends, you’re starting to have a nice time. You finish your drink, and nod over to Bismuth who catches your eye and nods back. You look over onto the stage, the man having cleared the piano, and see Lapis wiping down the piano and seat. Guess he spilled his drink while playing. Lapis, unlike Bismuth, actually dressed up a bit for the job. Her hair was pulled in a cute, small bun, and she was wearing what looks like a tailored tux with no jacket. The vest fit her quite well. She seemed.. happy. Good for her.

No one had taken up the stage again yet, but the place was still lively with chatter. You see someone out of the corner of your eye move towards the stage, but Bismuth comes over again so you tear your gaze away. 

“Another cider? Or do you want something else this time, Y/N? She asks, cleaning a glass with a rag, and moves on to the next one. 

“Ehh, yeah, give me another cider.” You say as you pull out your phone again. Bismuth sets down the drink in front of you.

    Harper: what a goddamn disaster. she got that from me i think

    Alex: no, youre both disasters separately

    Y/N: Fuck you guys. Give me a break.

You hear the piano start to play again, and someone pulling the mic forward. You look up to see pink hair.. And someone kind of familiar. She’s wearing black slacks, a white collared shirt, and suspenders. The shirt is partially open, and you see part of a pink gem showing through on her chest. It looks like she’s got mascara running down her face. 

And then.. she starts to sing. 

It’s lovely. It’s slow and a bit sad, but she seems to be enjoying herself. She’s definitely done this before. Quite a few of the people around quiet down some, so you can hear her pretty clearly. You drink some, and text your friends.

    Y/N: Guys, I lied. There’s a cute gem here who can sing.

    Alex: holy fuk

    Alex: what

    Y/N: She looks kind of familiar though? I can’t quite place it though.

    Harper: dude theres like near 100 gems now in little homeworld lol

    Harper: you’ve probs seen most in passing? :P

    Alex: are you serious Y/N? cant flirt with human women so u turn to aliens? lmfao

    Y/N: Ohhhhh my god. Die.

The gem on stage sings the chorus with gusto - man she’s really getting into this. You’re kind of taken a bit with her performance. It just pulls you. But also.. She really seems familiar now and it’s bothering you.

    Y/N: No I’m serious she seems really familiar and not in that In Passing kind of way.

    Harper: what does she look like?

    Alex: yeah a description would be nice 

    Harper: TAKE A PIC

    Alex: holy shit YES 

    Y/N: I can’t take a pic. She’s too far away, it’ll be blurry.

    Alex: literally just zoom in lord almighty

    Y/N: Okay. Hold on a sec.

You turn on your camera app, and face the stage. Looks like the gem is actually finishing up her song. Perfect, you’ll snap a pic once she stands up. She finishes, and most of the people are clapping for her. You zoom in, and it’s grainy, but decent enough to make out most of her. You snap the pic.

The flash was on.

A couple people turn to look at you, and you try turning away quickly, horrified, and see the gem looking in your direction before walking off into the crowd of people. You cannot imagine a worse scenario. 

    Y/N: FUCK FUCCCCKKKKKK.

    Y/N: (image sent)

    Y/N: I GOT YOUR FUCKING PIC BUT THE FLASH IS ON.

    Y/N: I’M PRETTY SURE SHE SAW THAT IT WAS ME THAT TOOK THE PIC.

With shaking hands, you take another sip of your drink and wait for a reply. Why is life like this.

    Harper: uh.

    Harper: ummm.

    Alex: wait

    Alex: one fucking second

    Y/N: WHY ARE NONE OF YOU CARING ABOUT MY PLIGHT. 

    Y/N: I’M TRYING NOT TO COMBUST ON THE SPOT HERE.

    Alex: shut up for one second

    Alex: harper isnt that

    Harper: uhh. yeah i think so.

    Y/N: WHAT!? WHO IS IT. WHY DOES THAT MATTER AT THIS POINT.

    Alex: lmao i cant believe i have to tell u this

    Alex: bitch do u remember that shit that happened last summer

    Alex: where half the town almost died from that gem shit

    Alex: that’s her     Alex: that’s the bitch who almost killed like, the entire planet

    Harper: you know that night your dad almost died??

As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.