#or how i had a dream me and thousands of other people were traveling across a rundown highway trying to escape the police

[freakish-hazzard]

do you ever have a dream so strange, otherworldly, beautiful, vivid and enchanting, yet so so anxiety inducing and stressful to the point it hurt a bit DURING the DREAM, that when you wake up, you feel sad that its over and you wont always remember it? or that you feel like a new person with new and important experiences?

[poetryvampire]

The Song of Rolan

Dingdong! Horny Rolan posting hours again. I started writing head canons for how vocal our lovely wizard can get. It got a bit long so I turned it in a little fic. Also sorry for the name im a lit nerd

Words: 2,705

Rating: Explicit

Rolan x AFAB! Reader

Prompt: Rolan's voice drives you crazy. But he has a terrible habit of stifling all his pretty little noises in bed. You help him fix that.

Tags: teasing, pointy ear play, a touch of edging, dry humping, sloppy oral, p and v sex, bit of overstimulation, creampie, riding that tiefling straight to hell and back

It was an understatement to say you were proud of Rolan. He was an accomplished wizard, loving brother and - in your opinion-the perfect partner. One that you could see yourself spending the rest of your days with. That's not to say he didn't get on your nerves. Not only with his grumpy tendencies but more so with his habit of over working.  You adored his passion and drive to further his studies but it had led to more and more long lonely nights. Either from him traveling with colleagues or the tiefling locking himself in his study to work on a multitude of projects until morning light. 

He had returned home only yesterday having spent almost two full weeks away and yet he still seems dead set to spend all evening pouring over his notes. The Wizard's focus was getting worse by the day. Not that he hadn't been overjoyed to see you. He had practically knocked you off your feet with the intensity of his hug when he came striding through the door. You had spent hours locked in each other's arms in your large shared bed. Steadily he moved between tales of his journey and peppering your skin with feverish kisses.

Rolan had taken you greedily. Frantic, practically tripping over himself trying to touch all of you at once. He couldn't quite find a voice for his needs but you swayed to him happily, matching his clumsy passion. There was plenty of the time to truly savor each other. But still your patience was running thin.

Somehow you had once again found yourself in an empty bedroom starving for your partner. Last night had been a sweet reunion but it did little to quell the fire Rolan lad lit in you while he was away. He had only been gone a few days when a letter arrived that left you breathless. Deciding to skip over the details of his journey he focused instead on his longing for you.

'What little beauty there is to be had here is dwarfed a thousand times by the thought of you. I dream of you always. Of being wrapped in your divine cunt. Of feeling it pulse against my tongue. Gods, I am your slave. Use me only for your pleasure. Let me worship you, my heart.'

His words rang in your head even now, pooling that familiar heat down below. How you wanted him. Wanted to hear such words from his own lips. From the moment you met you’d been in love with the deep rumble of his voice. Nothing gave you such satisfaction as pulling music from Rolan’s lips as you made love. It wasn't easy. Even still he had trouble fully letting himself go. Often he would stifle his words and moans to your great dismay. You recall gazing up at him as you ran your tongue over his length to find his hand clamped tightly over his mouth muffling his cries. A senseless action as you two had been the only people home at the time.  

Swiftly you move to your wardrobe every drop of patience spent. You need him; to wring every moan, grunt and whimper out of that man or it would kill you. He deserves to relish in and express his pleasure freely. Perhaps he just needs a little push.

Much to your relief the tower was empty by this hour. You moved lightly through the halls wearing nothing but a sheer purple dressing gown.

You tap your knuckles against the hard oak door as you enter his study. He was exactly as you had pictured him, four open books across his desk and him writing furiously.

"Beloved!" He half glances at you as he takes a quick slip from his wine glass. "Now don't worry," he continues flipping pages. "I hadn't forgotten about you. This was intended to be a short little report but I just keep finding revisions that seem a shame not to add."

Going above and beyond as always. You can't help but smile as you watch him, those tantalizing eyes darting from paper to paper. Just the sight of him makes the warmth of excitement flare in you. You feel your nipples hardening against the thin fabric you wore. He's dressed down; the lacing on his ruffled white shirt undone to his mid chest and sleeves pushed up past the elbow. Such a small glimpse of extra skin makes your heart race. Hopefully you can rise the same reaction.

"You have such a way with words it would be rude not to." You purr, moving to his side.

"I'll be done soon, truly." He can hear the need in your voice. "Then I'm all yours."

You hum amused as you lift his glass to take a deep drink.

"You sound like you don't believe me." Rolan's hand passes through the space once hosting his glass. "Have I ever let you down in the-"

His eyes finally snap to you and his words catch sharply in his throat, blood rushing to his face. You laugh, finishing the glass.

" What's the matter, my love? You're usually so generous with your words."

"I- I-you," He stammers.

"I seem to remember such generosity in a letter you wrote."

You undo the gown. His eyes fix on you as you let it fall to the floor. As many times as he's seen it the sight of you in your full glory drives him wild. 

"Do you remember that letter?"

"Oh, of course." His voice is barely a whisper, his body tense as if ready to pounce on you.

To his surprise you straddle him and his hands fly to your hips drawing you closer. Both of you groan into a deep kiss as you grind yourself down against the quickly growing tent in his trousers.

"Do you want to please me?" You growl half into his mouth.

"More than anything." He gasps between kisses. 

You pull away, placing a finger over his lips. His beaming cheeks and  pleading eyes stoke your maddening hunger for him.

"Then let me please you. I need to feel it and hear it. Let me drown in you, Rolan."

"Gods above," He groans.

You can see he's already holding back. But you would have to help him along by targeting his weak points. You start with his neck, ghosting your lips over him, letting the tension build. Your hot breath sends a shiver down his spine as he grasps your thighs trying to push you on.

At last you press your lips to his skin earning a soft hiss. You try to go slow but make your need apparent with the ferocity of your mouth. A deep sigh escapes him as you attack his jawline, sucking and teasing as you go. Rolan bucks his hips suddenly, huffing. He's too shy to ask but he's dying for you to touch his ears.

A quick bite to the lobe earns another sharp gasp. You laugh knitting your fingers through his hair- Gods his sounds make your heart flutter.

"Oh? Did you like that, my love?" You coo into his neck. There's words on his lips but they melt away as your tongue slowly traces the shell of his ear right to the tip. "Hhm? What was that? Are you unsure? But you're usually so strong in your convictions."  You repeat the action making him squirm underneath you. You grind down on his bulge creating a delicious friction. "However can I know you're enjoying yourself if you don't tell me?"

"It's good." He chokes out at last, meeting the movements of your eager hips.

"What is? We can't all be scholars you know." You draw away from him slightly. "What do you want?"

He laughs as a devilish grin spreads across his parted lips.

"Everything. You're so, you're so- " his words falter. He still feels your breath on him but the lack of contact makes it clear you're waiting. It's only in times like this when Rolan has difficulty summoning words.

"I've never heard of a wizard so speechless." You goad him and start to move away. "Must want to get back to his dusty old books rather than-"

"No!" He cries, locking his arms around you keeping you in place. "Your mouth- your tongue feels so fucking good I can't stand it."

You lick a strip down his neck while bringing your hands to the sides of his head, making sure to brush your fingers across the points of his ears, pulling a low shudder from him.

"There's the man that wrote me such an inspiring letter. That made me plunge my fingers in myself and dream of his cock."

He swears through his teeth, his eyes sparkling with desire.

"And where do you want my mouth?" You continue practically able to feel the heat flash across his face. Your tongue slides across his clavicle  and then moves lower to lap at the ridges on his chest. "Here, then?"

'No,' he breathes.

You swear you can feel him twitch in his pants. Moving your mouth lower you open his shirt completely and do away with it. You stop at the sharp ridge above his stomach.

"Oh, here?"

He shakes his head, face now blazing hot.  Pained whines fall from him as your mouth climbs back up the path of his chest. It isn't until you graze his Adam's apple that he breaks.

"My cock! Fuck I need your mouth on my cock. I need it now, please." He pleads like his life is at stake.

Instantly you're on the floor in front of him pushing his legs apart. You let out a moan yourself once you've sprung him free. You admire just how heavy he is in your hands and run your fingers over the ridges you wish were currently pounding into you.

With a throaty gasp a few drops of precum spill from his head just as you flick your tongue over it. You don't make him wait long before you take him into your mouth.

His moans ring through the room; the music you've been dying to hear. You waste no time taking him apart. Your mouth runs up and down his full length as you hollow your cheeks.  With a loud pop you release him, a string of saliva still connecting you.

Rolan stairs transfixed, his exquisitely carved chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Like this?"

"Yes! Love, it's perfect. Keep sucking, just like that."

Before the words are past his lips you've swallowed him down again, your eyes never leaving his. Now comes your turn to rid the fears that hold you back. As you bob your head you make no mind of the symphony of wet, lewd noises filling the air.

The obscene display tears a guttural groan from him. Unable to hold off any longer move you press a hand to your wetness as you relish taking him like this. The feel, the sound, the smell. It was quite literally making your mouth water. You switch to running your tongue from base to tip stopping only to tease him with a few quick flicks at his head. Drunk on lust at the sounds of his grunts and murmurs you dip your fingers into your dripping hole. 

"Nine hells." He shakes out, breathing hard. "Tell me, what have I done to deserve such adoration?”

Rolan’s eye then focuses on your hands. One pleasuring yourself and the other roaming your own body. You throw your head back with a soft sigh, his unyielding gaze intensifying your pleasure.

"What a wanton little thing you are." Rolan licks his lips in awe.

You protest for a moment as he snatches your hand away from your sex but hum in approval as he licks them clean.

"You sweet thing.”He coos after slowly releasing your digits. “Let me take care of that."

The swift flourish of magic swirls pass and you scream as you find yourself tumbling back on the plush blankets of your bed. Somehow it still catches you off guard.

Rolan has your legs pushed apart in seconds, taking a moment to breathe you in before going to work. Gently pulling your folds open his expert fingers, his tongue ravished you with the same pace you had set. In moments he had your hips shaking involuntarily. Each painfully sweet lash on your clit making you chant his name.

Yet you still weren't sated in your need to watch your lover twist in ecstasy. Taking him by the horns you pull his mouth to yours, lapping at his lips to savor the taste of your sex.

"How can I be of service?" Rolan purrs, a wicked smile forming.

"Lay back.”

He complies and you straddle his hips once more. You drag your core against his agonizingly hard cock. Now you were free to delight in the bumps and ridges you so adored. Your slick coats you both allowing you to slide over him with ease.

Rolan tries to caress you but you pull his hands away and pin them to the bed making him shudder.

"No, love. Leave them here." You roll your hips slowly bearing down, pushing a sharp whimper from his throat. "You just focus on this." Another roll, another whine. As you move your hands away he digs his claws into the sheets to obey. His eyes rake over you, especially as your speed increases. The sight of your breasts bouncing never failed to make him feral with lust. 

Quickly the last of his composure is slipping away as you grind over him. His hair framing his face wildly, his body trembling with effort not to take control and plunge into you. He howls when his tip catches on your entrance.

"Oh is this what you want now? What a greedy thing you are."  You tease.

"Please, mercy." he rasps out as you lower yourself ever so slightly only to pull away. “Give it to me, please! Love, I need you.” 

“How do you need me?” you wiggle your hips, toying with him. 

“I need to be inside.” He breathes, his frustration palpable as his tail snaps against the mattress. 

With unsteady thighs you sink enough to just take in his tip before slowly drawing back.

“Fuck, I need you.” Rolan cries, his voice breaking “I need to stretch that perfect tight little cunt. To feel it cum all over my cock. Gods, please fuck me!” 

Unable to hold back any longer your body obeys and you take all of him at once. The sudden action rips a howl from you both. The slight pain and overwhelming pleasure of being so full does little to slow you down and you continue your animalistic pace. 

The song spilling from Rolan’s lips has you intoxicated utterly. It’s a lurid rumble of repeating ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘fuck me’ and words in his own native tongue. You ride his cock with all you have drinking in the sight of him. His claws deep in the mattress now, he’s writhing and wailing below you. 

Finally you pull his hands to your hips and his body jumps to match your rhythm. He’s practically sobbing now, eyes swimming with rapture and concentration as he drives himself into you. A spike of heat pulls at your core and with another desperate thrust you come undone, clenching uncontrollably around him. Another wave of unbearable pleasure hits you as your lover pulses and spills his hot load inside of you. He rides it out, ending his flurry of moans with a few deep ragged breaths. 

Rolan catches you in his arms before you even realize you’ve started to fall forward and presses you to his chest. You languish there enjoying the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

“I don’t deserve you.” he says, tangling his fingers in your hair. 

“You’re so dramatic” you sigh “I’ve just missed you. A lot.”   

“Well, with a greeting like that I have half a mind to leave you more often.” he smirks. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warn. 

“Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Rolan kisses the top of your head, holding you tightly to him until you both fall into slumber. 

Thanks for reading! 

Much love <3

[bestworstcase]

@based7100 this tag made me snicker so

#forbidden tdt lore!

forbidden tdt lore!

we are not going to get into the whole entire TDT Salem Backstory for spoiler reasons and also because my gods we’d be here all day. the salient piece with regard to her semblance is that through the vast majority of the epoch between the moonfall and humanity’s return salem was experiencing varying degrees of deep deep psychosis and still, to this day, doesn’t really know How Much of what happened during that time was real. once there were people again and she’d had a few centuries to feel mostly sure of this fact, her semblance crystallized from her determination to. uh. live in this world.

(blows a kiss to ice queendom for giving me a leg to stand on here with this being in scope of what semblances can do.)

the baseline ability lets her enter and arrange her own mind as a tangible, real physical place. she has constructs representing memories, feelings, ideas, beliefs, pathways and architecture that she’s built out over thousands of years to guide and contain her thinking within the bounds she finds comfortable. which all adds up to salem being very weird but cogent Most Of The Time and having things she can do to ground herself when it gets. bad again.

in a sense her semblance is itself a realm. not a very large one—back of napkin estimate it takes about two hours to walk across end to end and four top to bottom following the main thoroughfare. but akin to ozma’s reliquaries in that it’s a real place where, conceivably, anyone could go if she opened a door. the pool of grimm and the waters of life are both In There.

(<- i had all this sketched out pre-v9 which made the salem-wrote-it ever after theory VERY FUNNY. btw)

sustaining that requires a Tremendous Amount of aura obviously but salem has an infinite reserve and also has been at it for almost the entire history of humankind 2: electric boogaloo so She’s Fine. anyway

that’s the foundation. the fun thing about giving salem a semblance of course is her immortality. what happens if you take a semblance and give it thousands upon thousands of years to cook? (one of my reasons for devising hers this way was to impose some restriction on the answer; it projects inward, not outward, because it’s a staircase she had to build to find the outside world. it can’t go the other way.)

when it originally manifested, the one point of ingress was through her dreams. (although the dividing lines between dreaming and waking and lucid semblance dreams were… permeable.) then she figured out how to cast herself in and out while awake, and from there developed a technique for making doors, which correlated with the interior construct becoming more real and let her physically enter it from remnant.

later on she decided that, since she could open the door in her semblance from anywhere on remnant, that door should also be able to open anywhere on remnant she felt like from the inside, and i think she spent a Long Time trying to make that work before it occurred to her that she could just… make more doors. (from the inside, a door always opens to where it was last opened from without; she still has not cracked this. but she does have a set of doors that all lead to destinations she’s “saved.”)

so she can use her semblance to travel, central location style, across remnant.

the other big thing she’s figured out how to do is use her semblance on other people, projecting herself into constructs of their minds. these aren’t real in the same way, they’re very dreamlike and fade when she withdraws, and of course she won’t have absolute control in a spatial model of someone else’s mind, but as you can imagine few of the outcomes of having salem in your head are pleasant. among other things this is how she “teaches” people how to communicate with grimm.

[bunnidid-reviews]

DID Book Review

DID Book Review

Facts -

Book Title: Both of Me by Jonathan Friesen

Publication date: 2014

Fiction or Nonfiction: Fiction

Was there a diagnosis of DID? Yes

Was the person with DID presented as evil for having DID? Yes, in the twist ending

Major Trigger warning list:

Ableism all throughout (a lot of infantilism and the autistic savant trope, as well as generally written in a dehumanizing way)

 Incarceration

Infant and parental death

Threatening with a gun

Plane crashing in the twist ending

Neglect

Physical abuse played off as a joke(? ‘she smacked him upside the head/across the face’)

Attempted sexual assault played off as romantic (Making out with the hesitant Elias, it’s written very vaguely and confusingly but I came away feeling like he couldn’t fully consent even if he wanted it)

Forced integration/forcing him to face his memories to integrate

Kidnapping? (In general it doesn’t seem like Elias has the ability to consent to most things despite being 19. His general confusion triggered my childhood..something sorta like kidnapping experiences so I’m adding this)

Sneaky Christian Messages (main character starts praying to God)

 Subjective Review(this is how I felt about it) -

Personal triggering scale from 1 to 10 (1 being not triggering at all, 10 being a badly overwhelming experience that might cause personal harm): 5. It’s not explicit in any way but there were many points I just needed to put this down

Personal relatability scale from 1 to 10 (1 being unrelatable, 10 being OMG THAT’S ME!): 2

Personal avoidance scale from 1 to 10(1 being eager to get on with it, 10 being impossible to finish): 7

My interpretation of the media(Includes spoilers):

I think this book is garbage, let me tell you why.

The story follows our main character Clara, who after her mother’s death and her turning 18, fled her home in London to live an untethered life of travel. She left being Teeter and Marna(yes, those are their names) to live with their father, who had been incarcerated for the past ten years over an Incident that it only ever vaguely mentioned, and many times.

Clara is a stuck-up bitch. She’s written as if these are attractive and heroic traits, that she looks down on the people around her so much that she assigns them numbers instead of names, gets her fill of them, and flees to the next country. She’s evidently taken hundreds of trips around the world in the past year, funded entirely by scamming people into thinking they’re paying a charity to support the travels of other children of incarcerated parents. Not exactly a lie, but I found her scamming and making literally thousands like this to be disgusting. There’s only one person she ever trusts with the truth, and that’s her online friend, FFA

She’s going to New York.. Or Minneapolis. Actually I believe she’s on a flight from New York to Minneapolis when she meets Elias, an 18-19(?) year old boy who’s seated next to her in-flight. He’s handsome, but seems.. Off in a way. He’s huddled against the window sketching away, and she measures him up to be Dangerous To Her Personally because he seems.. Interesting. Someone she might be tangled with. Especially as he sketches away at a scene that must’ve been her own trauma.

After pestering him all flight, they part ways and he accidentally takes her identical-to-his bag. Clara has to track him down in Minneapolis(I believe) to retrieve it.

Elias lives in a big boarding house with his overprotective but also negligent mother, as well as a quirky cast of various old people who live there. The Elias Clara meets here is distinctly different from the Elias she met on the plane.. He’s.. Neurotypical and Nice.

She stays overnight and overhears the Quirky Cast Of Old People gambling on time to spend in Salem, Elias’ inner world. The way they do this I’m assuming is to trigger out the Savant Elias who talks about his Inner World while they hang out? Apparently, everyone can live their dream-lives there, like a couple who’s only married in Salem, or a couple of artists who are renowned in Salem. They’re explicitly using his DID for their own selfish reasons, and they’ve justified it with Well Everyones Happier In Salem! So they try to keep him in this ‘sick state’, trapped by his inability to care for himself in ways an adult should be able to(driving, being able to read, ect. Elias’ life doesn’t pass the burrito test)

To her credit, Clara thinks this is pretty fucked up and confronts Elias about it with a plan to force integration so he won’t have DID, and then no one can use him for Salem anymore. So she steals him away into the night after some weird exposition of… travelling into an active war zone and running into someone with leprosy…? (Forgive me, none of this makes any sense so it’s hard to remember.)

But she too has her own secret uses for Jason(This is the other side of Elias, he chose the name Jason. Even if Clara outright refuses to call him by his name, I will) She has to know how he Knows about the Terrible Thing She Did. Maybe she can force the truth out of him as well as force him to face all the trauma that split him in the first place. Even if Real Elias doesn’t seem entirely onboard, Jason declares Clara to be his guide, Clarita, and off they go.

Hijinks ensue. They have a big fight at a frat party. Clara forces her friend to sell her car to her with all the tens of thousands of dollars she scraped up with ‘charity’. They buy an airplane…? They go to all the towns named Salem. Clara has a moment of Clara-ty when FFA texts her to let her know that her siblings are ill and she needs to come home. She panics about being a bad person and using Elias and abandoning her family, and feels better about everything because she.. Slept in an old prison cell by choice. She makes up with Elias for abandoning him and urges him to get off his DID medication.

The next morning, Clara wakes up to find a gun to her head. It’s a girl named Izzy, who forces her way into their journey by threat. She’s going East like the rest of them. So theyyyy goooooo onnnn

They split up for a bit then come back together. It turns out all along FFA was her father! Clara has another spiral and lays in the road and I guess passes out. Izzy, who had taken the car (hooked up with the plane) came back for them and theyyy wentttt onnn theirrr way

Izzy comes to know Elias and actually doesn’t think of Jason as sub-human. She listens to all the heavy symbolism and substitute beliefs Jason has with Salem (They must stop the evil Lightkeeper to save the Queen and all of Salem) She offers her own input to help the journey along and speaks to him on the same level, compared to Clara, who’s been scoffing and making quips about how insane all this has been the whole time. It seems like Izzy really cares about both Elias and Jason compared to Clara(thE LOVE INTEREST), and she literally broke into all this by force and seemingly without a care for human life.

As they pull into the next Salem, the group decides to stay in a newly-bought house under the guise of all being siblings and moving in early for their father, in an attempt to fool the kind neighbors who let them in. I don’t really know why they made this up if they’re all adults anyway and had multiple chances to come clean about who they were, but they stuck to the sibling story, even when…

Clara lead “Her Elias(Real Elias)” upstairs to start making out with him. He.. Doesn’t seem like he wants to, is very polite and hesitant, and rather confused by the state of things. Even so, Clara… Pulls him into it…? It’s very vague and it doesn’t seem romantic to me in the least. Theres some entitlement from her because she ‘puts up with’ Jason and is endlessly thirsty for ~Her Elias~. They’re interrupted anyway by the neighbor coming upstairs and demanding what the fuck!! To which Clara says:

“But you don’t understand. He doesn’t even know what’s going on half the time. If he was normal, maybe, fine make your judgements, but he’s not. He’s no protector. He’s vulnerable.”

O_o Clara what the fuck, if that’s what you believe then what the fuck????

Elias is rightfully hurt!! So he switches out with Jason. For some reason, the neighbor trusts Clara of all people to ‘handle’ their own autistic son because… she… Deals.. With Elias. And they consider him a lost cause.

Lo and behold, the son is actually also a genius and was only Pretending to be disabled to hide the project he’s been working on: Digging through the old slave escape tunnels underneath the whole of Salem. The trio make their getaway and leave the son behind. Clara gives him a kiss and is offended that he doesn’t really like it as much as he likes Izzy

Following Izzy’s Greek myth analogy she shared to understand Jason’s POV, they end up going to an artists’ commune and staying there for an amount of time. Elias is avoidant of Clara and he surrounds himself with people who actually like him, along with Izzy. In a fit of jealousy, Clara goes up the mountain to pray each night because she comes to…realize…God…. No, ‘Ungod’, because she doesn’t believe in God, but this is still published by Blink, a Christian publisher, so they had to shoehorn in the obligatory turning to God makes everything right trope, even if the only thing she changes is just.. being away from Elias for a little bit.

During the time at the commune, Elias fixed the plane they were hauling around this whole time. As a reward for leaving him the fuck alone for a while, Clara gets to have a nice friendly moment where they fly the plane together. Izzy decides being at the commune is what’s doing her a lot of good, so she’s going to stay behind as Elias and Clara set off once again.

They go to the last Salem, which is in Maine. At some point along their journey, they figure out that the Lightkeeper’s tower they’re looking for is the substitute belief version of a certain lighthouse. The root of all the trauma happened there. As they grow nearer, both Elias and Jason are growing apprehensive. And Clara is pushing ahead harder than ever because she wants to be done with this all.

They have a spat. They pour soup on eachother and split up. It’s kind of a running theme that Clara often abandons Elias to go have her huffs, and they’re always justified. She figures hes helpless and can’t really leave where she puts him anyway, so she goes off with a strange man to this certain lighthouse

The man’s name is Salt, a lobster fisher of course(It’s Maine after all), who takes her to another lobster fisher named Atticus. It turns out that man knew Elias’ father, the root of all trauma.

Elias and his father would go to this lighthouse to watch the stars when he was young. The lighthouse was surrounded by steep, rigid rock, so it was difficult to get out there safely. Elias adored his father. Once night, when Atticus dropped him off at the lighthouse, the father and a strange woman emerged from the lighthouse, in attempt to hide their shame: the father was cheating on Elias’ mother. Clearly upset, Elias tried to flee from his father, shoving him off the edge, where he fell and cracked his skull, dying. Elias had killed his father, and that’s when he split.

That’s when Clara went oh my god, this whole time.. those sketches!! They were about ELIAS’ TRAUMA and not her own.

Clara’s secret trauma is that she had a baby brother with down syndrome. On the way home from a hospital visit, it was icy and snowy out. Clara was supposed to take her baby brother in, but he got dropped, cracked his head open also, and died. Then police came and arrested the father for this, and all this time Clara kept the truth a secret, keeping her father in prison for the past decade. And from then on, Clara was different too… Ableist 😔

Having discovered his trauma for him, Clara rushed back to find Elias. He’s understandably hurt because he’s facing all these memories and getting abandoned in a strange-but-familiar-place over and over again. But she shuts him up and tells him all about her own trauma, using it to force Elias to reconcile with his.

But Jason.. He already knew. And revealed that the death of his father was on purpose, and he came here to seek revenge and kill the woman who caused all this.(Which is kinda implied to be like a mermaid or something because she was already Never Seen Again) Because Jason… Is a Murderer Alter!

Clara, who cannot accept the dark side of having trauma, flees up a mountain and prays to God overnight, leaving Elias all alone, who was very very upset and dysregulated.

The next day, Clara can’t find Elias. She has her father contact the police to arrest him. As she and Salt search high and low, finally Atticus lets them know..

Elias is dead.

He flew the plane into the rocks at the base of the lighthouse, injuring himself badly, but had just enough life back in him to put up sketches of Elias and his father together.

“He didn’t draw, Salt.” I sniffed and pushed myself up. “My Elias didn’t draw. Only the…Only the Other One, and he wouldn’t have hung these. He hated the Keeper… He hated…his..dad. Unless, the two, in the end, unless the two became one.”

He did.

I stared up at Orion, and whispered. “We did it. Elias, you did it. In the end it was just you.”

HES DEAD, CLARA!!! WHO GIVES A RATS ASS IF HE FUSED IF HES DEAD!!!!

The end :>

I apologize both for spoiling the entire book and also putting you through that, as well as my haphazard way of writing. This is an extremely tiring book for only having 254 pages. So much happens, and yet it’s possibly the most boring book in the world to read.

The writing itself is vague and trying to be witty, so it’s actually extremely difficult to tell just what is going on, because it feels like there’s a lot that’s not clarified. I spared you the details about Elias’s theme park machine and giant..spoon…statue..? because it’s altogether nonsense and doesn’t add anything to the already nothingness story.

Yes, I’m being very harsh. This book is a huge insult to anyone who has any neurodivergency, particularly Autism and DID, which are both mentioned explicitly in the book.  The way the main character views the people around her is disgusting already, but the way she treats Elias is.. Very confusing. That’s your love interest? The one you have zero faith in, actively dislike half of and scoffs even at ‘Her Elias’ ideas. She’s mean, and it’s not reciprocated banter. She’s just a straight up bitch.

I thought maybe this nonsense world she crossed over into would make more sense if it turned out they were in Salem all along, maybe even if Clara had been the host and she’s actually coming to recognize her own DID. I kept hoping and wishing and that never came to fruition.

But no, Elias is just.. Like that. Treated both by the one who should love him and the narrative itself as something less than human, who doesn’t have choice or any impact on the world around him. And then he fused, and then he died. Because Clara’s journey of self-acceptance was over. Even the author admits he didn’t know what he was doing in the end. Oh sorry, that it ‘Came To Him’. Sure thing, buddy.

If this is your favorite book ever, I’m very sorry. But I’d also love to hear your point of view, so please do share.

What they got Right in my opinion:

The use of substitute beliefs felt slightly realistic, actually. The truth being smudged into something that looks slightly different. Like Salem being both Elias’ way of understanding the world, as well as his inner world. And the Keeper being a lighthouse keeper, his father. The use of stars and mythology coming from the stargazing days with his dad.

Since the split happened as a result of his father’s sexual affairs, it makes sense that Elias recoils from intimate touch. It seems very Trauma to me

What they got Wrong In my opinion:

Where do I even begin? It’s like Mr. Friesen picked up a list on how Not to write DID and followed it as his biblical guide, making sure that he hit every Wrong note.

The Autistic Savant trope is the trope of having the autistic person be both a genius in either a variety of skills or a specific skill, but also being unable to connect on even basic levels with people around them. (think of the movie Rain Man(1988), like being completely unable to understand danger or the world around them as not fitting in their rigid world view. Obviously autistic people with higher support needs do exist(I would love to see more of their stories told in a respectful manner), and a person can be very knowledgeable about their special interests, this  trope specifically is a commonly fetishized view of autism seen in media. Especially where the only ‘use’ an autistic person in this role would have is to benefit the (neurotypical) main character and push them towards growth. This is blatant with  Elias/Jason’s case.

I can’t find the exact age, but I believe Elias was on the tail end of the age of developing DID. I’m not going to say that he doesn’t have ‘enough trauma’, but DID has been directly correlated with unstable attachments with caregivers in early childhood. It doesn’t make a lot of sense for him to develop DID when he has this fairly secure attachment already with his parents, and even with autism, he would’ve been integrated at this point.

The complete blackout/timeloss with every switch trope. When Jason is there, Elias just is Not. There’s no attempt at recollection, even

DID-blocking medication, lmao

Salem being his inner world as well as.. everyone else’s? This was really vaguely explained in the book and I don’t fully understand how other people ‘have lives’ in his inner world unless he’s just sitting and telling them endlessly about his inner world.

The fact that everyone around him has full knowledge of his disorder when he just does not, it feels very.. Unsafe to me. Treating him like he’s old fashioned ‘insane’ is really… wrong. Even when this abuse of power is questioned, it just gets shut down and smoothed over anyway.

The DID killer trope :I I don’t think I have to explain why this is wrong

Elias is evidently going to a doctor regularly and it has officially been named Dissociative Identity Disorder by said doctor.. Why isn’t there any trauma therapy?

Not DID related, but my British fiancé wants everyone to know that the ‘fine English breakfast’ of sausage, bacon and rolls is just pathetic and this horrible British girl is written extremely clearly my an American.

If even people who call the disorder “Dissociative Personality Disease” feel like this is badly written, THEN ITS BADLY WRITTEN

There is probably more but I am exhausted and want to chuck this library book in the trash to spare anyone else from reading this. This review is 6 PAGES LONG

Would I recommend this to someone with DID to read?: NO!!!!!!!!!!!

[epicspheal]

Get Ready! Here I Come! A Wally Analysis

Oh Wally, one of my favorite rivals and Hoenn Characters! He's definitely one of the many characters from Hoenn that was definitely benefited by the ORAS storyline adding much needed character development and screen time.

Wally as a character broke a lot of molds for his introduction in gen 3. He's the first rival to not be the first battle or get one of the main starters! He's also the first rival to be a secondary rival (as Brendan/May are the first) but ultimately become the primary rival as Brendan/May pretty much give up on keeping up with the player by Lilycove.

Let's start with Wally's name, in English Wally is derived from "Wallflower" which is a term for people who may come off as either shy, awkward and/or introverted. In Japanese, his name is Mitsuru which can mean "to be frail" or a reference to the crane ("tsuru") which would then reference the thousand origami cranes that are often given to people who are seriously ill. Indeed a lot of the names he has across localizations seem to reference his him either being shy or frail.

Which makes sense given that when we first meet him he's is quite sickly and rather shy (the shyness is much more prominent in his animations in ORAS). Based on what we know about his condition (needing more fresh air and it improving as he was able to travel more) it's likely he had asthma, which can indeed improve as you grow older (provided it doesn't come back, like mine did). Wally's introduction being the catching tutorial is probably one of the best of the series simply because it involves the growth of a new character instead of just it showing the player (who most likely already knows how to catch Pokemon). It's really nice to see Wally so excited about catching his first Pokemon. This is magnified by the fact that when you look at his room it's filled with a lot of textbooks on how to catch Pokemon, showing this was a major dream for Wally for the longest time and now he's finally getting a chance to fulfill said dream. Wally's introduction is probably my favorite of any rival we've had in the series just because of how sweet it is and how creative they were by using his introduction as a tutorial.

Now let's step back for a second and look at Wally's team. His signature Pokemon is the Ralts line with him evolving the Ralts he caught in the capture tutorial into a Gardevoir in Ruby/Sapphire/Emerald and Gallade in Omega Ruby/Alpha Sapphire. Both Gardevoir and Gallade evoke guardian angel and knight vibes with their Pokedex entries and appearances. You would think this would mean that Wally is a guardian/protector…but really this involves Wally being the one needing protecting. Obviously as the trainer Wally does take care of his Pokemon, but given his sickness he relies on his Pokemon. IN the first match we have against him in Mauville City, his Ralts has Teleport, which is a great move to quickly get you back to the last Pokemon center. Perfect for someone who might get sick and need to leave an area immediately

Indeed Wally makes multiple mentions to relying on his Pokemon

"I'm always relying on Gallade. This is my chance to help him out for a change." <- Serena's Dessert Party Story Event "When I was younger, I wasn't able to get outside much… Spending time with Pokémon helped me get better." <- Random Conversation in Pokemon Center in Pokemon Masters Ex

It's really cool to see this play out with a major NPC as most oftentimes in the game we don't really seeing humans actively needing help from Pokemon unless they are minor NPCs

But then let's look at the rest of his team when he fights you at Victory Road. It consists of a Delcatty, Magneton, Roselia, Altaria and the Gallade(ORAS)/Gardevoir(RSE). What's interesting to note is that outside of his starter most of his Pokemon's base forms can be found near Verdanturf. Skitty can be found Route 116 (on the other side of Rusturf Tunnel which connects Rustboro and Verdanturf). Roselia is found on Route 117 (connecting Verdanturf to Mauville City. Magnemite can be found in New Mauville but also in horde battles on Hoenn Route 110 (which is just underneath Cycling Road which is near Mauville). Swablu is the mon that's found farthest away on Routes 114/115 which are close to Meteor Falls (easier to get to via Fallarbor Town but you can go up through Rustboro City).

This is interesting to note because it gives the impression that Wally stayed closed to his Uncle's House in Verdanturf when initially catching and training Pokemon. Presumably this is so one he can boost up his confidence and two to help build his stamina as the air there is a little cleaner and would help improve his respiratory condition. This is something I really like about Wally in the fact that he has far more humble beginnings compared to many rivals who often get traditional starters and come from rather privileged families. I feel like he's more emblematic of what the average trainer would go through normally in the Pokemon world, which makes his true strength later on that much more impressive.

Now we don't see Wally much in our Gen 3 playthroughs and some players express frustration about that because we're used to having rivals challenge us on a more constant basis. But actually makes sense given this line of dialogue

"I lost to you, , but I'm not feeling down anymore. Because I have a new purpose in life. Together with my Ralts, I'm going to challenge Pokémon Gyms and become a great Trainer. Please watch me, . I'm going to be stronger than you. When I do, I'm going to challenge you to another battle." -At his Aunt and Uncle's house in Verdanturf

He expresses the desire to challenge you again, but he wants to build up strength before hand. Again subverting the rivals before him (even Brendan/May in the same game until Lilycove where they give up) he doesn't see himself as better/more experienced. So his loss doesn't affect him the same way. He knows he has a ways to go and decides he wants to focus on building himself up before challenging you again. And going back to his team composition he really wants to be sure he's prepared so he sticks to a small region of traveling before branching out. Which no doubt helps him conquer the gyms at a blistering rate. You'll notice around through the game that if you check the gym statues his name actually appears first on gyms. Because like Blue and Silver he ends up outpacing you. In ORAS the News portion of the Pokenav actually comments on a trainer who is conquering the gyms at a blistering pace which we'll later find out is him

"Oh, ! I…I left my uncle's place in Verdanturf without telling anyone. I wonder if he's furious with me… , you understand how I feel, don't you?" <- Wally in Emerald on the Match Call after you beat Flannery

This is a line that stuck out to me even as a kid playing Emerald on GBA SP. He actually snuck out in order to continue training his Pokemon. But he feels bad for doing it because on some level he understands that his family is just trying to look out for his health. But also he still wants to make his dreams come true even if it upsets them. It's also really nice touch in Emerald when he does call you because it shows he really considers you to be a friend even though you guys don't see each other much (one of the many reasons I wish we would've gotten Delta Emerald just to keep the Match Calls because they provide a lot of insight to the Hoenn cast, among other things).

In ORAS at least it seems to be less of a sneak out thing as we do see him in Petalburg after defeating Norman and he does get his dad's encouragement to continue traveling, with both Norman and his dad remarking on our strength as we head on out.

We don't see Wally again until Victory Road where he surprises with a battle and in ORAS giving us one of the best themes of a Pokemon character EVER in my opinion. Since Hoenn was my introduction to the Pokemon main-series games and Wally was really my first true rival of the series hearing the epic music and seeing the visual was amazing. It brought a tear my eye, honestly. Also just seeing how his animation in ORAS changes where our first battle he has a very timid look, but on Victory Road he challenges us with a more confident stance showing how much he has grown. And when he loses he expresses frustration.

We see him again in ORAS in the Delta Episode being harassed by either Courtney or Matt for his Key Stone after he already had his stolen by Zinnia which he'll eventually get back. But when we see him at the Battle Resort we notice something a bit different about him. He seems to be a little bit more impatient, running so fast he knocks the Team Aqua/Magma admins aside. He does apologize to them afterwards, but it's definitely a change from what we've seen of him thus far. And then after defeating him the first time at the Battle Resort we get treated to this line"I knew my team makeup was still off. Then…I guess I need to take this guy out. No, if I do that, I'll be wide open for… Hmm… Then if I replace this move here… Yeah… Yeah, that should do it! Oh! Excuse me! I couldn't help myself! But you're just as brilliant in battle as ever, <player>! Still, don't you count on me just losing to you forever. I've met a lot of people who have helped me grow since coming to the Battle Resort, and it has reminded me all over again how much fun it is to really go all out in battle! Thanks again, <player>! Let's battle again sometime!"

This is a bit concerning. Now to be fair other trainers who swap out Pokemon. He's not the first or the last. But you can kind of tell how serious he's become about trying to win. When we battle him he drops his Delcatty and Altaria for Talonflame, Azumarill and Garchomp with rather strategic movesets.

And then we get to Pokemon Masters. Specifically the Melancholy Wally event where he's paired up with a shiny Gardevoir. He really wants to team up with Diantha who refuses because she says he "lacks something". Which he takes to mean as strength when she really meant how he and his partner shine with their bond. And as we see throughout the event he is actually really prioritizing winning and technical battle stuff over just bonding with his Gardevoir, causing it to disappear. Which makes him really upset leading to this heartbreaking line "Is it because I'm weak? Do you not like battling with me anymore?"

We see Wally does have a bit of a complex, no doubt influenced by him being a sick shy child who was a little overprotected by his family. But then when he sees Noland teaching others how to battle he remembers something… "Although he lost the battle...he looks so happy..."It's all coming back to me...I was once like him...And it was so much fun. But now, all I think about is winning or losing...And I'm not enjoying Pokémon battles like I used to... ... ... ...Now that I think about it, when was the last time I had fun with Gardevoir? I should apologize...I was horrible to Gardevoir!"

He realizes where's he gone wrong. He's too focused on the outcome of the battle and forgetting the most important thing is about maintaining your bond with your Pokemon. And this again goes back to that post-defeat quote at the Battle Resort. When he started to care more about winning and optimizing tactics over bonding with his Pokemon.

With the recent Galar Neo Champions promos people have been joking about how he was paired with the jerk rival Blue, Silver and Bede. When you look at the Melancholy Wally event and his dialogue at the Battle Resort, you realize this was intentional. Because while he may not tease or put down others, he is very much falling into the "jerk rival trap" of caring more about strength over just enjoying time with their Pokemon. Luckily on Pasio he seems to be just like Blue, Silver, and Bede, overcoming that pitfall. This is something I really appreciate about Wally because it's nice to see the friendly rivals fall into bad-Pokemon training habits. Just because you're not strutting around thinking that you're the best thing since slice bread doesn't mean you can't have nasty traits or habits that need to be broken and I kind of wish they did that more often because it's rare to see.

But yeah Wally's a super interesting character who proves you don't need to have a lot of screen time to make a big impact.

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 67

as I read live

Thank the gods. Even though they were the last beings Rowan wished to thank.

She rested a hand atop Goldryn's hilt, flame dancing at her fingers, seemingly into the red stone itself.

"It would take years," she observed, "to heal everyone infected by the Valg."

"Each of those soldiers has a family, friends who would want us to try."

"I know."

The chill wind whipped her hair across her face, blowing northward.

"Could Yrene heal them? Erawan and Maeve? I don't know why I didn't think of it."

"Is Erawan's body made by him, or stolen?

Is Maeve's?" Rowan shook his head. "They might be wholly different."

"I don't see how I can ask Yrene to do it.

Ask it of Chaol." Aelin swallowed. "To even put Yrene near Erawan or Maeve... I can't do it."

Rowan wouldn't be able to, either. Not for a thousand different reason.

"But is it a mistake to put Yrene's safety above that of this entire world?" Aelin mused, examining one of the enemy daggers she'd pilfered. An unusually fine blade, likely stolen in the first place.

"She's the greatest weapon we have, if the keys are not in play. Are we fools not to push to use it?"

It wasn't his choice, his call. But he could offer her a sounding board. "Will you be able to live with yourself if something happens to Yrene, to her unborn child?"

"No. But the rest of the world will live, at least. My guilt would be secondary to that."

"And if you don't push Yrene to try to destroy them, and Erawan or Maeve wins—what then?"

"There is still the Lock. There's still me."

Rowan swallowed. Saw the reason she'd needed to be away from the others, needed to walk.

"Yrene is a ray of hope for you. For us That you might not need to forge the Lock at all. You, or Dorian."

"The gods demand it."

"The gods can go to hell."

Aelin chucked away the dagger. "I hate this. I really do."

He slid an arm around her shoulders. It was all he could offer her.

Over—she'd said she wanted it to be over.

He'd do all he could to make it so.

Aelin leaned her head against his chest, and they stared across the cold lake in silence.

"Would you let me do it, if I were Yrene? If I were carrying our child?"

He failed to block out the image of that dream—of Aelin, heavily pregnant, their children around her. "I don't let you do anything."

She waved a hand. "You know what I mean."

He took a moment to answer. "No. Even if the world ended because of it, I couldn't bear it."

And with that Lock, he might very well have to make that decision, too.

Rowan ran his fingers over the claiming marks on her neck. "I told you that love was a weakness. It would be far easier if we all hated each other."

She snorted. "Give it a few weeks on the road with this army, in those mountains, and we might not be such pleasant allies anymore."

Rowan kissed the top of her head. "Gods help us."

Even with the hours of instruction on the journey back to this continent, Rowan and the others had not wholly mastered the language of the half-forgotten marks. But her mate remembered most—as if they'd been planted in his mind.

Aelin carefully studied the line of symbols across the page. Read through them a second time. "It's not what we're looking for." She pulled on her bottom lip. "It's a spell for opening a portal between locations-just in this world."

"Like what Maeve can do?" Borte asked.

Aelin shrugged. "Yes, but this is for close traveling. More like what Fenrys can do.

"Or had once been able to do, before Maeve had broken it from him.

Borte's mouth quirked to the side. "What's the point of it, then?"

"Entertaining people at parties?" Aelin handed the book back to Rowan.

Borte chuckled, and leaned back in her seat, toying with the end of a long braid. "Do you think the spell exists—to find an alternate way to seal the Wyrdgate?" The question was barely more than a whisper, and yet Rowan shot the girl a warning look. Borte just waved him off.

No. Elena would have told her, or Brannon,

if such a thing had existed Aelin ran a hand over the dry, ancient page, the symbols blurring. "It's worth a look, isn't it?"

Rowan indeed resumed his careful browsing and decoding. He'd sit here for hours, she knew. And if they found nothing, she knew he'd sit here and reread them all just to be sure.

A way out—an alternate path. For her, for Dorian. For whichever of them would pay the price to forge the Lock and seal the gate. A desperate, foolish hope.

Chaol found his father where he'd left him, seething in his study.

"You cannot give a single acre of this territory to the wild men," his father hissed as Chaol wheeled into the room and shut the door.

Chaol crossed his arms, not bothering took placating. "I can, and I will."

Chaol sighed, slumping back in his chair. A lifetime of this—that's what Dorian had laid upon him. As Hand, he'd have to deal with lords and rulers just like his father. If they survived. If Dorian survived, too. The thought was enough for Chaol to say, "Everyone in this war is making sacrifices. Most far, far greater than a few miles of land. Be grateful that's all we're asking of you."

"I hope Anielle burns to the ground. And you with it." A small, hateful smile. "That's all your brother said. My heir—that's how he feels about this place. If he will not protect Anielle, then what shall become of it without you?"

"She discovered the trunk. Right before we got word of Morath marching on us," his father said, his smile mocking and cold. "I should have burned them, of course, but something prompted me to save them instead. For this exact moment, I think."

The trunk was piled thick with letters. All written by his mother. To him. "How long," he said too quietly.

"From the day you left." His father's sneer lingered.

Years. Years of letters, from a mother he had not heard from, had believed hadn't wanted to speak to him, had yielded to his father's wishes.

"You let her believe I didn't write back," Chaol said, surprised to find his voice still calm "You never sent them, and let her believe I didn't write back."

"Watching you with that wife of yours only proves it. I'd think you'd bargain quite a bit to be able to read these letters."

Chaol only stared at him. Blinked once, as if it would quell the roaring in his head, his heart.

His mother had never forgotten him. Never.

Stopped writing to him.

Chaol smiled slightly.

"Keep the letters," he said, steering his chair back to the doors. "Now that she's left you, it might be your only way to remember her." He opened the study door and looked over his shoulder.

His father remained beside the trunk, stiff as a sword. "I don't make bargains with bastards, I’m certainly not starting with you."

Cain's people or they had been. Aelin decided not to mention him during their brief introduction. And Chaol, wisely, refrained from admitting that he'd killed the man.

Another lifetime. Another world.

Seated atop a fine Munigi horse Hasar had lent her, Aelin rode at the front of the company, as it marched from Anielle, Chaol on Farasha to her left, Rowan on his own Munigi horse to her right. Their companions were scattered behind, Lorcan healed enough to be riding, Elide beside him.

And behind them, snaking into the distance, the army of the khagan moved.

The khagan's armies had crossed every terrain, though. Mountains and deserts and seas.

They did not balk now.

So Aelin supposed she would not, either.

For whatever time she had left, until it was over.

This final push north, homeward

・・・

She smiled grimly at the looming mountains, at the army stretching away behind them

And just because she could, just because they were headed to Terrasen at last, Aelin unleashed a flicker of her power. Some of the standard-bearers behind them murmured in surprise, but Rowan only smiled.

Smiled with that fierce hope, that brutal determination that flared in her own heart, as she began to burn.

She let the flame encompass her, a golden glow that she knew could be spied even from the farthest lines of the army, from the city and keep they left behind. A beacon glowing bright in the shadows of the mountains, in the shadows of the forces that awaited them, Aelin lit the way north.

[lulamadison]

131 please!

Thank you for the prompt 😃

Well, I said I was going to write a Lawrusso comedy, but I'd had a stressful week and several vodkas, and out came this depressing little Butterfly Effect style time travel fic...

I've spent the rest of this weekend cleaning it up, and I was hesitant to post it because it is so miserable, but here goes anyway 😉

Prompt 131: I’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you

Warning: Major Character death

Johnny had lost count of how many times he'd tried to bring Daniel back.

He'd altered the timeline so many times that he could barely remember what was real and what wasn't, but every time he came back one thing remained unchanged – Daniel was still dead.

And it was ridiculous really; the amount of desperation he felt to bring him back when they'd only ever been on one date.

One date.

One perfect date, where they'd laughed and drank and Daniel had kissed him chastely at the end of the night as they said their goodbyes.

Johnny had gone back to the date and instead of leaving Daniel in the parking lot as he waited for his Uber, he told him he loved him and confessed everything.

Told him how he'd loved him since they were 17.

Told him he'd beat him half to death because he didn't know how to deal with his feelings.

Told him he was sorry for everything he'd done.

And yet it still didn't work.

Instead of dying in an empty parking lot, he'd slipped at home and banged his head.

He'd died on the floor of his own garage when he went out for more beers and didn't come back.

It seemed that Daniel was destined to die, no matter what Johnny did.

Johnny went back again.

This time to before the date, and when Daniel had kissed him in the dojo and confessed his feelings, Johnny feigned indifference.

He told him he wasn't interested.

He wasn't gay or bi or whatever.

He saw the hurt in Daniel's eyes as he apologised for misreading the signals.

Johnny could live with the pain if it meant that Daniel lived.

He could hide his feelings.

He could live with the constant longing.

He could ignore the awkwardness of their interactions as he watched Daniel try to treat their relationship as nothing more than friendship.

But it didn't change anything.

Daniel still died.

This time he was found dead in the pond at Miyagi-Do. Drowned in the water below the balance wheel. No one knew how it had happened. He was always so careful around the dojo.

Johnny went back further, to the moment they bowed to each other at the All Valley.

When Daniel bowed Johnny reached over, pulled him in by the shoulders and kissed him in front of all those people. He didn't care who knew that they were in love.

Daniel was found dead the next day. Beaten to death in the LaRusso Auto parking lot.

A hate crime the news called it.

Amanda blamed Johnny.

Johnny blamed himself too.

He went back again.

They were in Miyagi-Do and Daniel offered Johnny a bite of his food. Johnny shook his head.

“Nah, man. I'm not eating that crap,” he said, then he stood up and walked away.

Daniel died, choking on the food he'd offered to Johnny.

Johnny went back further.

Daniel was at his apartment. Johnny offered him ham.

Daniel said no, and took a drink of beer. He said they needed to tell the kids it wasn't going to work out.

“Nah, man,” Johnny replied. “We love each other. We need to figure it out.”

“You love me?” Daniel asked, his voice hesitant, like Johnny had just confirmed everything he'd ever dreamed of.

“I do,” Johnny said, as he leaned over and kissed him.

Daniel didn't pull back. He leaned into the kiss and let out a moan.

“I need…” Daniel said as he pulled back, his eyes showing that he reciprocated every stupid feeling Johnny had ever felt for him.

“I need…” Daniel said again.

“Just don't leave me,” Johnny replied, his fingers still trailing across Daniel's cheeks like the ghost that he was. “I've been trying for so long.”

“What do you mean?” Daniel asked.

“I've loved you for so long,” Johnny replied as he ran his fingertips down Daniel's neck. “Every time I tell you it means nothing.”

“You've never told me you loved me before,” Daniel said with a huff of laughter.

“I have, so many times,” Johnny said, as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Daniel's neck. “But it doesn't change anything. Every time I tell you it still ends the same way.”

“Then don't let me go tonight,” Daniel replied, holding Johnny's gaze, and pulling him closer.

“I won't,” Johnny said, as he ran his hand down Daniel's chest.

They touched each other in a way Johnny hadn't experienced in any other life time.

They made love, and after it was over he clung to Daniel knowing he'd made a difference.

Knowing this time was different.

Daniel would still be alive.

He could live in this lifetime with Daniel by his side, just as he hoped he would.

But it didn't happen.

They woke, all warm and cosy, wrapped together under scratchy blankets. Kissing each other gently as Johnny felt like all his dreams had finally come true.

Daniel went to work in his car and didn't come back.

A tragic accident, the news said.

Drunk driver, they said.

Side swiped Daniel's car on Ventura Boulevard while doing 90.

He didn't stand a chance, they said.

Missed by his wife and family, the funeral notices said.

Johnny attended Daniel's funeral for the hundredth time, hidden in the shadows.

Hiding behind the trees.

Looking over toward the plot where he was buried next to his Sensei, as always.

Johnny tried again.

“Still got those Golden locks,” Daniel said, with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, but you based your whole life on kicking me in the face, huh?” Johnny asked before the other LaRusso Auto assholes could come across.

Daniel laughed. “Maybe I did,” he said, as he gazed at Johnny in a way he hadn't seen this far back.

“Guess I made an impression on you?” Johnny said cockily, as he took a step closer.

Daniel swallowed, casting a glance towards Johnny's lips before flicking back up again. “Maybe you did.”

Daniel died that same day.

Taking someone for a test drive in a red Dodge Challenger that they smashed into oncoming traffic

Every time Johnny went back he felt it sapping the life out of him.

He knew each time he went back it was killing him and he didn't care.

He was dying and it didn't matter when Daniel wasn't by his side.

Every time he went back as he tried to put everything right was a moment he didn't get to spend with Daniel where he came from.

Every time he tried to change things he saw that he loved Daniel in every timeline.

He saw that Daniel loved him in every time line.

The next time he tried he grabbed Daniel by the shoulders.

He'd gone back so far that they'd never even met yet.

“I know you don't understand this, but I have to tell you,” Johnny said, as they stood on the beach. “I’ll spend a thousand lifetimes coming back to you, and it'll never be enough.”

“What?” Daniel asked. “I don't even know who you are.”

“I can't put it right,” Johnny said. “I've tried so many times, but I'll keep trying.”

“What do you mean?” Daniel asked.

“I've figured it all out now. This is all the time we have together,” Johnny said. “I'll keep going because it's worth it.”

“I don't know what you're talking about, man,” Daniel said with a nervous laugh.

“I kept thinking it wasn't important, all these moments I spend with you across a hundred different timelines,” Johnny said, as he took hold of Daniel's shoulders again. “I thought the only thing that mattered was the outcome. The only thing I cared about was spending the rest of my life with you, but I can still do that.”

Daniel pulled away from Johnny's grasp. “I don't know who the hell you are, but you need to back off right now!”

“It doesn't matter what we do,” Johnny said. “It always ends in the same way, with you dead.”

“Is that a threat?” Daniel asked raising his fists.

“It's just how it is,” Johnny said, his shoulders sinking. “I can't save you. You always die.”

“OK, now you're freaking me out, so if you don't leave me the hell alone I'm going to kick your ass,” Daniel replied angrily.

Johnny couldn't help but grin. “This is what I love the most about you. Hotheaded little asshole, always spoiling for a fight.”

“I'm spoiling for a fight now, yeah,” Daniel said, as he took a step back.

“You're still going to die,” Johnny said.

Daniel lashed out, hitting Johnny in the cheekbone, knocking him backwards, as he shouted, “Leave me alone, man!”

Johnny was rocked backwards, but he didn't fall. He raised a hand to his rapidly bruising face, running his fingertips across the reddened skin. Every punch from Daniel felt just as good as a kiss these days.

“I might not get to spend the rest of my life with you in my timeline,” Johnny said, still running his fingers of the bruise. “But I can spend the rest of my life in these moments with all the different versions of you.”

Johnny went back again.

Moving between the timelines, even though his nose started bleeding and the headaches were lasting longer each time.

He knew he was dying, slowly killing himself with each jump.

He never went back to his own world again. He knew Daniel would never be there.

He travelled the universe. A spiderweb of encounters written across the timeline.

If he ever crossed his own path the whole thing could come crashing down, but Johnny didn't care. Daniel was always destined to die and Johnny would always be cursed to stand by his graveside.

What did it matter if the universe ended? What was left for him beyond the stolen moments with all the different versions of Daniel?

He kept travelling.

He spent the day watching Daniel through the windows of the dealership, as he smiled brightly at customers and staff.

He spent a day at the All Valley tournament as they agreed to work together to defeat Cobra Kai.

His nose barely stopped bleeding now. Sneezing red spots into his hands. Pockets full of crusty blood stained tissues.

He spent the day getting ready for their first date.

“Are you OK?” Daniel asked, as he sat across from him in the booth.

“Huh?” Johnny asked.

“You keep kinda zoning out on me,” Daniel said with a grin.

Johnny smiled softly. “I was just wondering if it was appropriate to tell you that I love you on a first date.”

“Wow,” Daniel said, sitting back. He was quiet for a moment, then he shrugged his shoulders and said, “It must be fine, because I love you too.”

Johnny smiled to himself even though he felt like his skull was about to crack.

“You're amazing,” Johnny said. “And every single moment I've spent with every you has been worth it.”

Daniel's brow wrinkled in confusion for a second, then he smiled and said, “I think I'll take that as a compliment?”

Johnny smiled.

Right here and now was all that mattered anymore. All he had to do was keep travelling.

All he had to do was keep coming back to Daniel for the rest of his life.

[sasslett]

Find The Words

I got tagged by @ainyan, this is a fun one! The rules are to find each of the assigned words in your writing and share the passage they're found in. My given words were survive, machine, enchant and oblivious! Surprisingly tricky.

Survive

"I have an idea, if you would allow," Alisaie piped up, casting a glance aside to Varrus  before continuing. "I'm afraid it's not very good as ideas go - it's exceedingly reckless, in fact, and you may well come to despise me for ever having suggested it. Assuming we survive, that is."

Whatever she was getting at, Varrus wasn't sure he wanted any part in it - yet, somehow, he knew whatever she suggested would hinge on him regardless.

She looked at her companions as she added, "The question is… do you trust me?"

Varrus let out a sigh. "I trust you to follow your heart and do what's best, regardless of if it's actually a good or sane idea."

Machine

"A dragon of the first brood…" Varrus murmured in wonder. "A sister to Hraesvelgr and Nidhogg… Let us pray that she isn't as bloodthirsty as her fallen brother."

The two dragoons, accompanied by their tiny dragon friend, cautiously made their way forward, past several empty devices Jess only assumed had been used to conduct countless horrors upon the dragons. 

And then they saw it - a massive machine, towering over everything near it, with a fully-grown, great wyrm held inside. 

"Is it…?"

"Who cometh to this forsaken place and disturbeth my solitude?"

Well, that answered her question. The dragon was indeed alive - and Jess truly wished it hadn't been. Not for any reasons relating to being a dragoon, but, rather, because she couldn't even begin to imagine the agony of sitting, forgotten, for over five thousand years, yet somehow being kept alive. And the sorrow emitting from the dragon's voice was nearly enough to overwhelm her.

Enchant (er... penchant, as I didn't have a single instance of enchant in my entire 508k words)

"Then what are you waiting for?" Alphinaud asked, likely not intending to sound as rude as he came off. 

"The wherewithal to do it," Krile replied. "The fact is, my abilities aren't quite up to the task. Not in themselves, anyway. If I had Master Matoya's Crystal Eye, on the other hand…"

"Then let us call on her forthwith," the Miqo'te began walking towards the bridge out of town, not even waiting for a response. "I think it best that you explain your plan to her in person."

The group followed - all except Alphinaud, at least.

"Oh, who am I kidding," the boy slumped his shoulders, "it will be fortunate if she does not mistake me for my sister again."

"It'll be ok," Varrus gave the boy a pat on the head. "She just means to say that you're very pretty."

"Yes…" Jess muttered. "It does seem as though she has a penchant for young Elezen men…"

The man gave a snort, knowing exactly what she was referring to. Though why she'd sound jealous of Matoya, of all people… With a shake of his head, he hurried after Krile and Y'shtola, and the group traveled to Matoya's cave - without being assaulted by frog wizards this time.

Matoya didn't even look at them before giving a sigh. "Is that trouble I smell, or did you forget to wipe your boots on the way in?"

Oblivious

But forget how she felt - what about Varrus? It was his homeland, after all - he, who had suffered at the hands… claws?... of Nidhogg, and under the lies of the Holy See. She pulled her head back to look at him, finding him staring down at her with those beautiful golden eyes of his. And, like always, she was struck by just how handsome he was, even while panting for breath from their recent fight, his deep purple hair stuck to his face with sweat, dirt and blood smeared across his skin… Maybe there was something wrong with her, but somehow, all of that just made him even more attractive…

"We did it," he whispered, the feeling of his breath on her skin sending shivers down her spine. Slowly, as she'd dreamed about so, so often, he closed his eyes and began lowering his lips to meet hers…

"...Is it over, then?"

Only for the two to be rudely interrupted less than an ilm before their lips would touch, as Estinien came wandering into the chamber, completely oblivious to the moment he'd just ruined. 

Hastily, Varrus set Jess down on her feet and stepped back, clearing his throat as he turned to his cousin. Jess, meanwhile, shot the other Azure Dragoon a glare, though it didn't seem as though he'd noticed.

[mobolanz]

For the OC asks: 25, 11, 6 and 8! You may choose the characters! :D

When giving me a character choice, quite a guarantee I'm Going for all the three main girlies!:D

6. Which song off of your most recently played playlist are they?

Royal scandal my beloved<\3

Evelyn:

The night I met you was just like magic.

I fell in love.

Just that rendered all spells useless against me.

Wanting to dream for thousand and one nights, she escaped alone.

She smiled slightly when she saw my unfamiliar clothes and curious shoes.

Still, we were in fact prisoners. Our status and birth are too different. Those without authority cannot even be by your side. I’m not good enough.

Cecille:

「Ah, don’t stop loving me~」

Only just for this night,

may we have this pessimistic affair, The farewell starts to fade

after the two have their first cocktail drinks,

Like a virgin night, why don’t you choose your favourite colour for tonight?

But I guess if you don’t want to then that’s fine;

I’ll just cry alone.

Mia :

(quite literally her theme song heheu🥀 (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧)

A still beautiful woman's face

Reveals a wild beast's fangs

"This is how I will live"

I lean down to your unmoving throat

And take a bite

8. If they had the option to travel to the past and change one thing, would they? What would they change?

Evelyn: She would. But it's pointless to think about because it's never going to magically hapoen anyway like she'd have believed once. Just go back to any mistake she ever made and... pick the other option. The perfect one.

But then how would she truly grow smarter if listening to a random voice in her head to go the other direction... what's so certain about it being the right choice

Besides... would she still be as lovely as at least very few call her now if she took the other way?

Cecille: Making sure to never encounter a good chunk of people. That way their annoying faces, and words wouldn't randomly come across her mind. And wouldn't suffocate.

Mia: can't exactly think of anything. Probably whatever it must've been that got her to give up so soon...

11. What is their weapon of choice (literal or figurative)?

Evelyn: I suppose that'd be a pistol. Man once she actually gets to use it would be messed up 🥹

Cecille : Dagger that's thin as a needle in the edge.

Mia: Has her own rapier, her ring transforms into it classic dark magical girl style :3

25. Are they quick to anger? What is most likely to make them angry?

Evelyn: nope. At least again, she's extremely restraint in negative (albeit natural and valid ;-;) emotions. To a core of even being angry with herself to being "so easily" driven to that. Should she almost snap, she'd hold it in her throat and pause for a few good seconds, lowering her gaze. One example though would be open narrow-mindedness and lack of care and outright nasty attitude. With that in mind she keeps herself in check because... maybe the other person has their reasons to act like that?

Until one time she just doesn't care anymore.

Cecille: Very much making it so it's rare for her to get to a shouting level, but her patience despite her exterior cool and collected demeanour is paper thin. I'd say getting all clingy and following her around and also not ceasing to talk like a megaphone in her ear. Touchy subjects brought up randomly would touch a nerve for her too. (She'd straight up slam at the table if it gets them to shut the hell up)

Mia: Oh. VERY. Be it especially the same moral lecturing on doing all for the sake of others and putting her feelings and needs aside. When that's what she's been doing her whole life. Especially should it come from someone without a care in their world, getting all judgemental and assuming the worst without ever pondering into the bigger picture of the situation. To put shortly Ignorant righteousness. Three, two, one, she starts spitting venom.

Some OC Asks

[crimsonfic]

Kyojuro Rengoku-Delectable Fire

Foreign Chef Y/N

8 Chapters

Subjects: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Blood, Slight mention of abuse, Mature Language

Chapter One

Chapter Includes: Nothing special lol

6.2k words

You stood behind the counter, looking out the window at the empty road. Trees swaying in the breeze.

You sighed deeply as the minutes ticked by and no one came in.

Your mom and you traveled thousands of miles to Japan just for the adventure. This was your last stop on the journey. It was your moms dream to sell food in many different countries, so people would be able to experience the treasure that was her cooking. Her words, not yours. She was passionate about cooking.

She instilled all of her wisdom and skill into you. You've been cooking since you were 7. Small things, first of course, like creating doughs, baking, mixing, things that didn't require too much detail, up until you were around 10. That's when she started hammering everything she knew into your brain.

You were 13 when she decided to start the journey, and after 7 years, you've taken over. You didn't want to, but she insisted. With this being the place you would most likely live for the rest of your lives, she wanted to expand. You weren't making hardly any money here, so she wanted to go to another area of the state to see if you'd have more luck there. Well, after 7 months, nothing.

If you didn't start getting customers outside of your regulars, you would have to close and find other ways to make money. The thought made you sad. Your mom had been successful in the past but Japan was proving difficult. You had even learned to make the popular dishes here but you didn't have anyone to serve it to. Except your regulars, but they preferred your traditional home cooking. Thrilled to have experienced something different than what they were used to. They said it was like traveling, without actually having to. You're grateful to them, those regulars are the reasons you can keep the lights on.

Your thoughts were interrupted as your favorite regular stepped inside your small restaurant.

"Good afternoon Ms. L/N." He smiled brightly.

"Senjuro! We're like family." You smiled and playfully berated the young boy.

"Right, I'm sorry, y/n. Force of habit." He laughed although his cheeks warmed up, flushing pink.

This caused you to smile more. He was so proper and polite, always speaking to you formally despite how long he's been coming here and how much you know about each other. He felt like a little brother to you.

"No worries. How are you today?" You asked him watching as he took a seat at a table near the wall.

"I'm great. How are you? Have you heard from your mom since we last spoke?" He asked.

You walked over to the table, leaning against the table across from him.

"Yeah, she said her stall is doing good, she thinks people like the handheld things cause it's easy to eat. Said she'll be staying there to see if anything improves."

"That's great!" He smiled.

"Yeah it is."

"How is she doing? Is she safe?" He asked with a slight worry in his brow.

"You ask that a lot. She's safe. She actually wrote 'Tell Senjuro I am safe and well.' At the end of her letter." You laughed.

He always asked about her safety, but he never told you why when you asked. He would just say, "oh it's nothing, just making sure." Before your mom left, he did make her promise to mind her surroundings when closing at night, saying the town she was in just isn't as friendly as this one. That was the most we got from him, and we both figured it was because we're foreigners, so we let it be.

We're no strangers to people being mean and nasty just because we didn't look like or dress like them. Happened in every country we visited.

His cheeks reddened again. "Oh, tell her I don't mean to be a bother."

"You are not a bother. And tell her yourself? I know she would love to hear from you. Actually let me get the letters, she mentioned you in. I'll be right back." You told him before heading to the back, to go upstairs to your room.

At the time that your mom bought this building, you couldn't afford to find somewhere else to live, you got lucky that there was room spanning the size of the building, with a bathroom upstairs. Now that you were living alone because your mom relocated, the space felt empty and lonely. It didn't help that there were no windows up here.

You walked over to the desk and grabbed the letter your mom wrote, and blank paper for Senjuro.

When you got back Senjuro smiled.

"Thanks y/n." He said.

"No problem. So...what are you having?" You asked after you sat the papers and pen in front of him.

"Whatever the special is today, but I'm gonna wait until my brother gets here to actually order." He said.

You've heard nothing but good things about his brother. It was clear Senjoru admired him from the way he speaks about him and how his eyes brighten. You knew that he never came with Senjuro because he was a very busy guy, who works overnight.

"Oh really?" You asked in surprise.

"Yeah." Senjuro spoke his tone changing. "It was kind of a bad day yesterday, with our dad, so he asked what I would be doing today, and promised he would come meet me here. A-as a pick me up, since he wasn't there yesterday." He lowered his gaze, sadness in his eyes.

You sat down in the seat across from him. Crossing your arms on the table.

"Are you okay?" You ask quietly.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He replied. But you knew better. He wasn't. The very first time you met Senjuro he was here crying while he attempted to eat. You and your mom were so worried about the young boy you watched him carefully. He fell asleep at the table and was apologetic when he awoke, but you assured him it was okay and that he could sleep and sit there as long as he wanted. He came back everyday for a week, and by the end of the week, he told you a little bit about his dad's temperament. Quickly explaining that he was just sad inside.

Ever since then he's been coming to the restaurant as an escape when needed. Your mom adored him, and so did you. He became family fast. You never pried too hard into his life just accepting whatever he wanted to share. You still don't know for sure how things happen at home, but when he told you about his brother for the first time you felt much better. Thankful that he wasn't always alone and that he had someone while his dad was in his temporary but 'long term' state of grief.

It didn't make it okay, but you also tried not to pass judgement or speak too harshly about his father for his sake. You would always just settle for, 'you know if you ever need me, I'm here, and I can also be there if you need me to be too.' Reminding him that he never had to feel alone. Your mom would always tell Senjuro to give her the word and she would tell his Dad off so well, he'd quickly get his act together and be a good dad like he use to. Of course he'd never taken her up on her offer though. Also telling us that his dad was a powerful man.

Your mom did not care. And neither did you. Your mom had a way of cursing people out that you were so confident in, you knew she could set anybody straight. Especially after traveling for years and seeing up close and personal how huge men cowered away from your mother. She once even cussed out a King and he listened to her. You've never doubted her since.

"What do you want to drink?" You asked him changing the subject.

"Anything is fine." He answered looking relieved.

"Okay." You stood and walked into the kitchen. You grabbed everything you needed out of the cooler and cabinets. Humming a song to yourself as you made the drinks. You were making a creamy rice water drink, hoping Senjuro would like it.

When you finished, you poured some into two glasses, and made your way back to the table. You smiled as you sat down seeing that Senjuro had already filled up the front and back of a paper for your mom. As you pushed his cup over to him he smiled sheepishly.

"I kind of miss your mom."

"I know for a fact she misses you too. She's gonna be so excited when she sees you wrote to her." You laughed lightly imagining her face. She's going to cry. She thinks of Senjuro as her Japanese baby.

He took a sip of his drink, his eyes widening immediately after. "Whoa." He said before he took huge gulp. "Whoa." He replied again.

"So I guess you like it." You laughed playfully.

He nodded his head quickly, before finishing his cup.

"Let me get you some more." You said before you moved to get up.

"I'm sorry." He laughed. "You just sat down."

"Don't worry, it's fine I promise."

Once you stood grabbing his cup, the bell above the door rang.

"Brother!" Senjuro waved happily.

Your eyes lifted to the man walking over to you and it took everything in you not to drop the glass in your hand. It's just you and Senjuro here but his aura is demanding your full attention. You felt like you were in the presence of royalty or something. Someone deserving of the utmost respect.

"Hello Senjuro, I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." He replied, his tone jarring but pleasant.

"Of course not. Brother, this is y/n l/n. Y/n this is my brother Kyojuro." Senjuro smiled as he introduced you two.

Kyojuro reached the table and bowed in greeting to you.

"Hello y/n, nice to meet you."

You returned it. "You too." You said quietly. "I'll be right back." You turned quickly on your heel and went back into the kitchen. Your heart was beating rapidly, and you didn't know why. There was no reason for him to be making you nervous.

You filled two cups, one Senjuro's, and walked back out to the table.

You sat the cups in front of the brothers. You could see from Kyojuro's legs that there wouldn't be much space for you to sit back down. Not without bumping into him.

"What's this?" Kyojuro asked.

As you told him the name you watched as his eyes widened while drinking it.

"Delicious!" He said very enthusiastically.

You glanced at Senjuro, who looked slightly embarrassed but held a smile on his face anyway.

"What's that spice?"

"Cinnamon." You told him, your eyes now back on Kyojuro.

"That's the most delicious drink I've ever had. Do you have more?" He asked in his same shockingly urgent tone.

His eyes glanced at your full glass still sitting on the table, when Senjuro pushed his cup to him.

Kyojuro immediately accepted the cup and drank his.

"Delicious!" He said again.

Without a word you went back to the kitchen, and poured the rest from the pot into a pitcher. You brought the pitcher out and sat it on the table.

Senjuro handed you your cup, like he was protecting it for you.

"Thanks" you smiled.

"Yeah." He smiled back.

"So Kyojuro" you said, your eyes almost leaving his face when he set his intense gaze on you, holding yours in place. "Please do look over today's menu, and let me know what you would like." You told him gesturing to the middle of the table where the menu stood.

"Hm." He replied with a nod of his head. "Do tell me what you recommend brother." He said to Senjuro.

"Everything is really good honestly, but I am going to have todays special." He answered.

"Okay, I'll have the same." Kyojuro enthused.

You watched as Senjuro smiled wider.

How cute. You thought.

"Okay give me about 15 minutes. No more no less." You said before you turned away to the kitchen.

Inside, you grabbed your dough you prepped this morning and began warming up the meat you've already made.

As the meat warms, you sprinkle out some flour before placing your dough on the counter. You knead and work the dough the couple of minutes it takes you, before you warm up your oil. Once back at the counter you hear the bell, your eyes quickly flying up to see one of your usual customers. You smile at him as he walks to the counter in front.

"Hello maker of my day!" He smiles at you.

"Hello Yoshimatsu." You say in a sing song voice, giving him the same energy he gives you everytime he visits.

"You know that I want, whatever you're giving." He beams. His eyes bright with humor.

"You got it. You're right on time actually. I’ll have it to you in just a few minutes."

"Sounds good." He says before tapping the counter turning to take a seat.

You direct your attention back to your task as you hear him greet Senjuro. He greets his brother, and the tone of Kyojuro's voice makes you look up at him. It's the same volume as before but less cheery. You glance up to see that the smile he wore wasn't present. The sight making you smile. That's the face of a protective brother. You think to yourself.

Attention back to the most important task, you fill your dough with it's necessary contents, before closing them and then dropping them in the oil. You're back and forth, quickly moving to get your sides plated, which are always warm and ready to go.

Also making more of the creamy rice water drink from before.

In just a couple more minutes you are bringing plates out to the counter.

You take Senjuro and his brother their steaming plates, watching as they both smile, similar smiles. You grab the empty pitcher and return to the kitchen filling it, and grab a water pitcher before returning and placing them back at the table. Then you grab Yoshimatsu's from the counter, bringing to him his plate and a glass of water.

"Wowww." He sighs, as he takes in the aroma.

You smile at his reaction.

"This is new." He said looking up at you.

"Yea-"

"Scrumptious!"

You turn your head quickly to the booming voice from behind you. Yoshimatsu as well.

"This is incredible!" Kyojuro exclaims again.

You remember Senjuro telling you that Kyojuro was very unique with an even more distinctive relationship with food. This must be what he meant.

"Scrumptious!" He says again, taking another bite of his food.

You smile and turn your attention back to Yoshimatsu.

"Yeah, this is the first time making it here, we finally got the ingredients we needed in."

"Ohhh okay." He replied "your presentation in impeccable."

Your smile morphs into a sarcastic grin. "I just put it on the plate Yoshi."

"And it turns out like a work of art everytime." He grins back, playfully.

"Oh please." You laugh, "tell me what you think." You gesture to his plate.

You wait as he eats some of everything. His immediate reaction told you everything you needed to know, now you were just waiting on his verbal declaration.

"Amazing." He sighs when his mouth is clear. "You're an incredible chef."

"Thank you." You smile. "I'll leave you to it." You say before he nods and you walk away. You see that Kyojuro's plate is empty, and your eyes widen as you approached the table.

"That was fast." You said to him.

He laughed, loudly.

"Yes, it was simply incredible. Is there anymore?" He said his bright eyes on you.

"Yeah." You smile before taking his plate.

After getting more, you return to the table and set the newly filled dish in front of him.

"Thank you." He exclaims before immediately diving in.

"Tasty!" He exclaims.

You raise your eyebrows at the outburst, surprised he made it just seconds after a bite.

Senjuro let's out a quick laugh. "Ignore him, it's sort of an absentminded thing he does. Unless you manage to distract him."

You nod your head, an amused smile growing on your face. You look at Senjuro's plate. He's not even halfway done.

"How is it?" You ask him.

Another tasty exclamation comes from his brother, and you laugh at the timing.

"What he said." Senjuro smiled.

"Cool, I'll leave you to it." You say, your usual statement, before walking back to the kitchen. You straighten and clean up a bit as you listen to Kyojuro's outbursts.

When you're done, you stand behind the counter and talk with Yoshi. He tells you about what his night will look like, the jokes he's got planned, and the woman he's finally going to introduce himself to.

You banter back and forth until he leaves an hour and a half later. You clean and put away his dishes silently as you didn't want to be too noisy in the background of Senjuro's and Kyojuro's conversation.

When you finish you lean against the counter, internally sighing as no other customers have come by. Kyojuro's high energy voice pulls you out of your personal thoughts.

"Y/n, please, join us." He said, his eyes on you.

You smile and walk over to their table. "I didn't want to intrude." You say, glancing down at Kyojuro's legs like earlier. He honestly was in your way. Maybe not so much but you were worried about accidentally making contact with him, bumping into him as you moved into the bench.

"We're family remember? You don't have to worry about that." Senjuro smiled at you.

Your smile widened. "Yes, you're right." You glance at Kyojuro's legs once more, hesitant to sit. "Let me clear this for you first, do you need me to bring anything else back?" You grab their empty plates and cups and pitchers, balancing them carefully in your arms.

"No thank you." They both say in unison, causing them to laugh together.

"K." You say before you turn to walk away.

When you return Kyojuro is standing beside the table. He gestures for you to sit down first.

You semi nod in thanks, and then slide into the bench, sitting in front of Senjuro. Once Kyojuro sits back down Senjuro pulls the letters back out. He carefully slides them over to you.

"I hope your mom can smile from my letter. And thanks for letting me read hers." He says.

"Aw Senji, of course." You smile at the sweet young boy in front of you. You have no doubt his letter would bring joy to your mom.

"Your mom, where is she?" Kyojuro asks.

"3 towns over, testing the waters there."

"Ah, looking to expand?"

"Yes. We don't get enough customers here."

"Is that so? I can't believe it."

"Yeah, people just don't come in."

"Hmm." He said, his hand coming up to rest on his chin.

"It's a shame, they're missing out on really great food." Senji chimed in.

"They certainly are. Tell me y/n, how did you become a culinary expert?"

"Oh, I'm certainly no expert, but my mom taught me everything I know."

"I disagree. I've never tasted anything as pleasant as what you served us today. You deserve the highest title of recognition."

You smile shyly at the high praise he gave you. "I just follow my mom's recipe." You mumble.

"And you excel at executing it." His large bright eyes burning into your own, suddenly becoming way too much paired with the compliments. You look away, eyes on your fingers.

"Thank you." You reply.

"Yes." He nods.

After a few beats of silence you speak.

"So Kyojuro, Senji tells me you do really important work and are highly skilled at what you do too."

Kyojuro nods again, turning to look at his brother with a smile.

"Yes, I do my best. I'm pleased that it doesn't go unnoticed."

"What kind of work do you do?" You ask.

Senjuro gasps, his hands flying to his brother. "He's a fighter. Right Kyojuro." He looks at him with a worried look in his eyes.

You look between them both, seeing a silent interaction happening between them.

"Yes, I fight." Kyojuro said before his eyes land back on you.

That's vague, and maybe a little strange as far as occupations go, but seeing that non verbal exchange made you drop it.

"Oh okay, cool." You reply. Senji noticeably relaxed at your response.

"So y/n, where are you from?" Kyojuro changes the subject.

You tell him and he looks intrigued.

"What's it like there?"

"Mostly warm, sunny, beautiful. Some places are really sandy and dry, others are lush and green."

"Sounds beautiful." He replied.

You guys talked, getting to know each other, Senji offering random facts about each of you when it seemed as though you forgot to say them yourselves. While you were immersed in conversation it did not go unnoticed by you that still no one came in.

"I think I ought to get home, and check on father." Senji said after your conversation died down.

Kyojuro nodded to him before standing from the booth. "I'll walk you before I go on patrol."

You got up, bringing the letters with you, followed by Senji.

"It was most pleasurable to meet you." Kyojuro said smiling at you, his eyes closing with the action.

You found yourself blushing at the sincerity you felt radiating from him. He genuinely seemed pleased.

"It was, I hope to see you again." You replied, your own expression turning into a smile.

"You will indeed." He answered.

Senji held his money out to you. You were reluctant to take it, eyeing his hand momentarily. You remember him telling you that it was honorable for a man to pay for the services he received and that if you didn't accept his payment for his meals, it would reflect badly on him.

You held your laugh in when he said that, but you could see he really wasn't going to just eat for free. So you took it, but you do have all of his payments in a small box upstairs, ready to give back to him one day. You'd never tell him this though.

"Thank you." You told him to which he smiled brightly.

"Of course, see you soon." He said before he hugged you.

They turned to leave and you busied yourself with inventory and cleaning.

—————

Yesterday was awful in terms of business but no surprise there. Only one more of your regular customers came in after Senji and Kyojuro left. You were starting to think they only came in because they knew business was super slow

You were downstairs in the kitchen after having showered, making yourself breakfast because you could not sleep. Stress had kept you tossing and turning throughout the night. At the moment you were grinding your coffee beans when a light knock on the door caught your attention. Looking up you saw Kyojuro standing outside, his hand raised in a wave. You felt heat rise to your cheeks for forgetting to close your shades because you looked a mess.

You stopped your actions and walked to the door, unlocking it before letting him in.

"Hey Kyojuro." You smiled stepping back so he could walk in.

Once he stepped inside he closed the door and locked it.

You noticed he had a sword on his hip this time.

"Did you just get off work?" You asked him, eyeing his sword.

"Are you okay?" He asked you. Looking at you intently, his brows slightly furrowed and that smile that almost never left his face yesterday wasn't present.

"Yeah, is everything okay?" You responded, worry settling into your bones. What is going on, what's this sense of urgency?

"No." As soon as he spoke, you heard a noise upstairs, like a chair scraping across the floor.

You froze in place.

"There was no else here with you right?" Kyojuro asked, his hand moving to his sword.

You couldn't speak, you just shook your head no.

He turned around swiftly closing your curtains over the windows and the door.

There was another scratching noise upstairs, before a loud thud was heard. Something falling?

"Stay right here." He said before running upstairs.

You watched him go, your eyes wide with shock.

When he got upstairs you heard commotion before a glass shattered. A few seconds later you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. You were rooted in your spot, praying it was Kyojuro.

When you saw the yellow hair you sighed in relief. He closed the door to your room, turning to look at the back door.

"Do you have a handy man?" He called to you, his voice clear even though he was far away from you.

"No." You replied.

"You need one." He said.

"What's going on? Someone broke in?" You said, taking steps to bring you closer to him.

"Something." He said.

"Something?" You asked looking past him and seeing the door. The handle was broken.

"Yes, a demon." He replied turning to look at you.

You were still feeling uneasy so you stood staring at him for a few moments before what he said dawned on you.

"A demon?"

"Yes." He said.

"Wait.....you're just joking with me right?" You shifted awkwardly, scratching your arm absently.

"I am not. There was indeed a demon upstairs."

"A demon?" You asked again.

"Yes." This time, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he spoke.

There's no way he's saying what you think. They exist? Like tangibly? Not as metaphors?

"Ok, that's not funny Kyojuro."

"What ever do you mean? I don't intend to joke, I am not joking."

"Kyojuro, please, I'm serious." You whispered.

"I'm not joking."

"So you're telling me demons exist and one is in here without me knowing?"

"Was, not anymore, but yes. Are you feeling okay?" Kyojuro's tone turned from his calm to concerned.

"Mhm." You replied. Your heart was racing, palms clammy and an uncomfortable feeling was growing in your gut.

This news was unsettling, and your mind was having difficulty accepting it. It had to be a joke.

"Y/n?" Kyojuro’s voice called from far away.

————

Kyojuro's POV

I do hope she's okay. It's been a while.

Y/n had fainted downstairs, I think from shock. The news about a demon being here must've been too much.

I brought her upstairs to lay down comfortably and then I made sure to clear the evidence of her room having been occupied by such an unsightly creature.

Y/n finally moved. I leaned forward to get a look at her face. She was waking.

"Kyojuro." She said. Her eyes were still closed, her voice quiet.

"Yes?" I asked.

She was silent for a long while, I thought she had fallen asleep, until she sat up abruptly.

"Kyojuro...." She mused.

I had the feeling she wasn't actually calling out to me, so I remained silent.

"You're here.....so that means....I wasn't dreaming......." She trailed off.

She stood suddenly and started grabbing clothes out of her cabinet.

"Are you going somewhere?" I asked as I watched her quick movements.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

"To my mom."

"Right now?"

"Yes!"

"Okay." I replied, standing from my spot on the floor. I began walking out of her bedroom space.

"Wait, please." She said stopping her movements.

"Don't leave me in here." She said softly, fear evident in her eyes.

It made me feel sad to see such a look.

I stopped and stood beside her. Nodding my head.

She turned back around and continued packing things into her bag.

I could see that her hands were shaking, she was doing her best to keep it under control though.

"What do you usually do to relax?" I asked her.

"I....um, cook...or eat." She spoke.

"Hmm...would you like to try doing one of those things? We can go get food?"

She stood up from where she was kneeling in front of her cabinet, leaving her bag on the floor.

"Okay. I can cook." She replied. Her tone and her eyes aloof.

She absently played with her fingers as she walked past me, making her way to the stairs.

I followed closely behind her. Pausing when she did at the bottom of the stairs.

"Y/n?" I called from behind her.

"Hmm?"

I placed my hand on her shoulder, "you sure you can cook?"

"Yeah." She replied before continuing her walk to the  kitchen.

I stood in the doorway watching as she pulled ingredients out and washed her hands.

"Coffee?" She asked in that same far away tone.

"Sure." I answered. I didn't want her to do anymore work, but if it would calm her then I welcome it.

She began grinding the beans, before putting them into a small pot. I watched intrigued as she moved on to making food, I couldn't tell what she was making but I knew it would be grand. As she cooked and maneuvered through the kitchen I saw her become more relaxed, her hands no longer trembling. She was in her zone.

I noticed though that every so often she would look at me, as if checking that I was still standing in the doorway.

I smiled at her antics although I also felt sympathy for her.

A few minutes later and she handed me a hot cup of coffee.

I drank it immediately.

It was like a taste of joy. It was sweet and strong. Setting my senses on fire.

"Yum!" I said, needing to express the excitement coursing through me.

She smiled at me. "Not too hot?"

"No, not at all!" I told her.

"Interesting." She mused.

"How so?"

"Just is."

"Okay." I laughed.

"You can go have a seat. I'll bring the food out to you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She replied.

I walked out to the front and sat at the large table in front of the counter. I drank the rest of the yummy coffee she made me before setting my cup down. I'd need to send a message to Senjuro, he may be expecting me home, but I have no idea when I'll get there. She's doing better but for how long?

Y/n brought out the food and all my other thoughts ceased. When she sat down in front of me I dug in. I was aware of the surprised expression she wore at my outbursts but I didn't care much. This food was most delightful and I couldn't hide that.

Y/n picked over her food, worry on her face.

"You need to talk?" I asked her.

"I don't think it will help." She said.

"Want to try?"

She looked up at me, like she was deep in thought.

I held her gaze, holding my remarks as the taste of her food was still overwhelming my mind.

"Yeah." She replied finally.

"Okay. Unload your thoughts, and questions." I said.

"I.....I guess....I don't know where to begin."

I didn't respond. I just sat quietly, waiting for her to find the words, for her to find where she wanted to begin.

A minute later she spoke.

"So...demons...are evil...they want to hurt you right?"

"More than likely."

She looked fearful and surprised.

"There's speak of demons who don't harm humans, but if you see a demon....and it looks like a demon, it's best to run away and call for help."

"How do I know if one won't harm me?" She asked.

"You won't know. You can never be too sure, but demons who disguise themselves to blend in with humans may be the ones, but again, don't take that chance. Assume they all want to hurt you."

After a few beats of silence, "so the one that was here....would've killed me?"

"Yes." I told her truthfully.

I noticed she was trembling again.

"So how did you...kill it? And how did you know it was here?"

"I sensed him as I was in the area. And I beheaded him."

"You....weren't scared?" She asked.

My laugh left my throat before I had time to think about it.

"Of course not."

"Because you've known they existed?"

"That and because I'm a demon slayer. It's my duty to kill them."

"A demon slayer?" She seemed shocked.

"Yes, there are many of us. Not nationally known or recognized but we're a whole organization, my father was one as well, in fact I followed in his footsteps."

I continued to explain to her my position, my job, and the oath I set upon fulfilling.

"Wow." She answered wide eyed. Then, for the first time today she smiled. "I see why Senjuro didn't tell me what you really do, but shared his admiration for you and your father."

I smiled as well. Im delighted to know Senjuro is proud of me. Of his father, despite who he's become.

"Thank you Kyojuro, I'm indebted to you for saving my life today."

Her smile remained, her voice sincere.

"It is an honor to have removed the filth from your home and establishment. I would do it a million times over."

Her smile grew bigger. "You say the word, and anything I have to give you is yours."

"Really?" I beamed. I could already think of something only she can give me.

"Yes! Without a question."

"Yesterday, you made the most splendid of drinks....it would be such a gift to have again today."

"Say no more. Give me just a couple of minutes." She stood from her seat. Reaching for my now empty plate.

"Okay." I responded smiling at her before sitting back in my seat.

As she moved about the kitchen, I kept my eye on her. She was indeed doing better but I wanted to make sure. Just in case.

Our eyes met a couple times. I think she was checking to make sure I was still there. It was cute honestly because of the small embarrassed smile she gave me everytime.

When she brought me more food and a pitcher of the sweet drink from yesterday I thanked her.

"No problem." She smiled.

We were silent as I ate, except from my remarks of the quality of the food. I really couldn't help myself. Y/n only smiled at me when I made them.

"Where did you say your mom was located?" I asked her after I finished all of the deliciousness she provided me.

Retelling me, my eyes narrowed as I thought about how long her trip would be. It would take 8 hours for her to get there.

"By the time you get there it will be dark. The sun sets an hour earlier there." I said to her.

Her eyes widened briefly. "Oh yeah? I didn't think of that. But I'm sure I'll be fine."

I nodded. She would be fine. I'll make sure of it.

I helped her with her dishes much to her disdain, before accompanying her up stairs so she could get her bag and change her clothes.

She was wringing her fingers as we ascended the stairs, and she paused before stepping beyond the dividers to her sleeping space.

I could hear her rustling through her cabinets and chests before hearing the movement of her getting dressed.

"Kyojuro.." she called.

"I'm here." I replied.

She stepped back into the living space, a small smile on her lips.

"You're so quiet, I thought you disappeared."

"Sorry." I smiled.

I followed behind her down the stairs, admiring her outfit unabashedly. Her attire was indicative of her culture I believe, based off of the description she gave of the environment. She was wearing a wide brimmed hat, a flowy blouse that swayed and bounced with the movement, and a floor length skirt that flowed with her movement too. At her waist was a red sash with the most beautiful floral designs embroidered into it.

She turned and examined the back door, her mouth dropping open when she realized she couldn't close the door leading to her room. I had to tie the handles together so that no one could come in through the broken back door.

"Thank you Kyojuro." She said. "I didn't know what I was going to do."

"You are welcome." I stated simply.

I followed close by as she turned off the lights, and then headed to the front door.

As she locked the door I admired her attire further, as the breeze caught the fabric of her clothes.

When she turned around to face me I smiled.

"Thanks for everything Kyojuro." She said.

"Of course." I nodded. "Please be careful on your journey today."

"I will."

"Okay."

"Bye Kyojuro." She smiled.

"Goodbye Y/n." I smiled back. When she turned away I remained in my spot, I would watch until she was no longer in sight.

I began to worry after a few minutes when she hadn't turned back at all. Is she not aware of being watched? Can she not feel someone's gaze on her?

As if I had spoken directly to her, she turned around and waved at me. I would be lying if I said it didn't make me smile and feel warm inside. She was almost a mile away, but let me know she was aware of my presence.

Maybe she will be okay.

She will be okay.

******

Next

[jungkxook]

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre:��punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[alltoolewis]

WYD now?- Mason Mount

I have literally been obsessed with this song the past couple of weeks and thought it would make a really cute imagine with one of my favourite people to ever exist!!! I know I say this a lot lol but I think this is possibly one of my favourite things I have ever wrote!!! Hope you enjoy it!!! Warning... have tissues close by!!!

Listen to WYD now by Sadie Jean here!!!!

Summary: After (y/n) thinks she spots Mason at the back of her sold out show, her best friend convinces her to give her first love a call... but is too late to win the heart back of the first and only person to ever truly love her...

When people say that being in the public eye is a lonely place... they're not lying, if anything there undermarking just how isolating it can be! Every day travelling to a brand new city surrounded by strangers and people who expect you to be a perfect role model 24/7, never being able to make mistakes or mess up... everything had to be perfect! This was the true reality you dreamed of ever since you were a little girl, being able to travel to parts of the world you didn't even know existed! Inviting all your loved ones and fake friends to your sold-out shows... like tonight!

Tonight was possibly the biggest show of your career yet... performing at a sold-out arena in your hometown! And you did exactly what little (y/n) would have done... inviting every single person you grew up with allowing them to be a part of such a historic moment in your life. However one person was missing... the first-ever person to believe in your dreams, the person who pushed you to release your first ever single... your ex-boyfriend Mason! You and Mason were childhood sweethearts, being together for 4 years before calling it quits after he moved away from Portsmouth. You loved him more than anything in the world, and you knew deep down the feelings were mutual, he would do anything for you! And that's why you did it... that's why you let him go! It was better for the two of you if you let each other go, making a promise that you would remain friends but you have yet to see him since he boarded that train that day... He promised that day if you ever needed him, no matter how big or small the problem was, he would be there in flash... but after 2 years of needing him... he was yet to show!

"(y/n)… you ready?" your best friend asked, popping her into your room as she messed around with her VIP pass "Your on in 5!" You and Tara have been friends since you were 7! Living every high and low of life together... it was safe to say none of this would have happened if you didn't have her by your side.

Applying the final coat of lip gloss, you let go of the breath you didn't know you were holding... this was it... everything you dreamed of was finally coming true... everything but one thing! "I'm coming...!" you sighed, faking a smile as you followed Tara backstage having one last pep talk from your team before making your way on stage!

There was nothing like performing in your hometown, having thousands of people scream back the lyrics you have written with every emotion you have ever written! Glancing over to the VIP section you couldn't help but smile as you noticed your family singing and dancing along... but no smile could ever cover up the pain your heart felt as you pictured mason beside them, laughing at your dads poor jokes just like he did all those years ago or play fighting with your nieces and nephews...

"This next song is so special to me & a lot of you guys here tonight who has ever had to make a decision to let someone walk out your life despite all the consequences... this is let it go..."

As the first notes played, your tearful eyes gathered across the large hall, phone lights lighting up every corner of the arena allowing you to see every face you could in the crowd. But as your eyes gazed the back row, your eyes locked with a familiar pair...

'it can't be... surely not....' your mind flooded with negative thoughts... why would he be here? why now? Blinking a couple of times you took a double-take, heart breaking as you noticed his haunting figure had disappeared... did you really miss him that much?

“oh my goddd!” Tara screamed as you made your way off the stage, jumping in your arms as soon as you said your farewells to your other loved ones“you absolutely killed it sis!” No matter how hard you tried to listen to her your mind couldn’t help but flash back to him....

“He was here...” you whispered like you were afraid he could here you. Lifting her head up from your shoulder her eyebrows raised as she questioned “who was here...”

“Mason...” you breathed out, body tensing as if you had just seen a ghost... maybe you did! “He was here Tara... at the back... it was him!”

“(Y/n)...” Tara sighed, grabbing on to your clammy hand “y’know it wasn’t him sweetie...” she knew how much missed him, telling you everyday to give him a ring to tell him, but you never listened.. telling her that it was too far gone for him to care!

“It looked so much like him though... the eyes, the hair, his smile.... it was him!” Your eyes filled with tears as you doubted yourself “I promise you Tara... it was him... I know it was him...”

Pulling you into her chest, your tears soaked her shirt. Stroking your hair softly she sighed “I think it’s time called him hun... you need him”

Shaking your head quickly you sniffled “I can’t... it’s too late”

“What? No (y/n)! It’s not late.. you need him!”

“I don’t...I’m fine...”

“No your not...” Tara said sternly “do you think this is healthy huh? What you are doing to yourself? I’m not going to allow you to sit back (y/n) and let your past eat you alive! So it’s either you phone him of I do!”

“But what if it is too late? And he’s already with somebody...?” Sighing she wrapped your arms around you lifting your chin up as she spoke “if it’s too late... it’s to late but at least your giving yourself closure babe...” giving you one final smile she handed you your phone, his contact already gracing your screen “phone him (y/n)... please not only for you but for me... I can’t keep seeing you like this!” Making her out way out of the room she closed the door behind her, making sure you get some privacy as you debated doing the one thing you should of done years ago....

Holding your phone tight you finger hovered over the call button.. negative thoughts once again filling your head ‘what if he doesn’t answer? What if he doesn’t want to talk? what if it is in fact to late?’ Not being able to take much more you closed your eyes,pressing the button as the sound of rings filled the room. Your heart jumping as soon as they are replaced with what was once your favourite sound...

“(Y/n)..!”

Your whole world stopped as he spoke your name, your skin filling with goosebumps as panic washed over you... “(y/n)... is this you?”

“Urmm... yes... mason.. it’s me (y/n)”

“Are you okay?...” he asked, voice full of concern and worry as he questioned why you would be calling him now. “What are you doing now!?!” You blurted out, heat flushing to your cheeks as embarrassment embraced your body... ‘what sort of response is that you fool!...’ you thought mentally slapping yourself as his soft chuckles vibrated through your phone speaker.

“Urmm I’m watching Netflix ...” he chuckled “what are you doing...?”

“Well... I just finished my first headline show...”

“Oh my god congratulations (y/n)!” Pride written all over his voice, making your heart tighten even more “I always knew you could do it...” his words struck your heart like a bullet. Hearing him say the words that concluded all the late night talks about whether you would make it big in the industry or not... and no matter how many times you told him you wouldn’t he continue to remind you just how talented and unique you were ‘your talent is too special to not be global baby..’ His love struck words that one cold winter night, forever playing a huge role in every singing milestone you took. It was like he was always there with you, reminding you about your gift... and that’s when it hit you... Tara was right... you needed him...

“(Y/n)... you still there love?” Masons voice echoed through the room, slight panic hitching his voice as the silence continued to grow. “You oka-?”

“I need you...” you whimpered, eyes filling with tears as you finally said the words you were holding back for so many years “I miss you so much... and I know I shouldn’t.. not after years but I can’t help it... seeing your face plastered around every corner, hearing your name everywhere I go...”

“(Y/n)-“

“Memories of us flooding through my mind every time I open my mouth to sing..” you continued, tears spilling down your cheeks as you heard mason let out a sniffle, indicating that he was doing the exact same “I’m lost mase.... I thought I could do it... let you go, but I can’t... I miss you mason... so fucking much!”

“(Y/n) I mi-“ mason tried just to be interrupted by your broken words of self doubt!

“I’m sorry mason... I shouldn’t of called... I’m so stupid! I gotta go!” You cried, ignoring his pleads to not hang up as you pushed the little red button before flinging your phone across the room! Sliding down the wall frantically, you let out a frustrated groan, tears forming a puddle underneath you as come to terms with what you had just done...

‘Was that it??’ You thought ‘it’s over...’

An hour goes by and you remain where you were. Back against the cold door as you ignored the knocks of concerned tour crews... after a while they finally got the silent hint, leaving you alone for a while as you continued to cry in your own self pity...

just as you were about to stop a final knock vibrated it’s way through the thin walls causing you to let out a low frustrated groan. However after making them wait an hour to see you you finally thought it was time you faced the harsh reality!

Jumping up you ran to the door, wiping the mascara stains from your cheeks as you fake smiled. Whipping it open you put on a brave face “I’m so sorry for making you wait.. I promise I’m rea-“

Your eyes grew wide as they gazed at the figure in the doorway... tears glossing back over you eyes as you took in reflection....

“Mason... what are you...? Why are you....? What?!?”

“I made a promise to you (y/n)... no matter how much you need me, I’ll be here!” He couldn’t help but smile, as your eyes washed over with realisation “so here I am....”

[lokiondisneyplus]

'Loki' takes over: Tom Hiddleston on his new TV series and a decade in the MCU

Ten years after Hiddleston first chose chaos in Thor, Marvel’s fan favorite God of Mischief is going even bigger with his time-bending Disney+ show.

Tom Hiddleston is Loki, and he is burdened with glorious purpose: After playing Thor's puckish brother for over a decade in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, no one understands the mercurial Asgardian God of Mischief as well as the actor. He can teach an entire seminar on Loki if given the opportunity — which he actually did during pre-production on his forthcoming Disney+ show. In conversation, Hiddleston quotes lines from his MCU debut, 2011's Thor, almost verbatim, and will playfully correct you if you mistakenly refer to Asgard's Rainbow Bridge as the Bifrost, which is the portal that connects Loki and Thor's homeworld to the Nine Realms, including Midgard, a.k.a. Earth. "Well, the Bifrost technically is the energy that runs through the bridge," he says with a smile. "But nine points to Gryffindor!" And when he shows up to the photo shoot for this very digital cover, he hops on a call with our photo editor to pitch ways the concept could be even more Loki, like incorporating the flourish the trickster does whenever magically conjuring something. The lasting impression is that playing Loki isn't just a paycheck.

"Rather than ownership, it's a sense of responsibility I feel to give my best every time and do the best I can because I feel so grateful to be a part of what Marvel Studios has created," the 40-year-old Brit tells EW over Zoom a few days after the shoot and a week out from Thor's 10th anniversary. "I just want to make sure I've honored that responsibility with the best that I can give and the most care and thought and energy."

After appearing in three Thor movies and three Avengers, Hiddleston is bringing that passion to his first solo Marvel project, Loki, the House of Ideas' third Disney+ series following the sitcom pastiche WandaVision and the topical The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Led by head writer Michael Waldron (Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Heels), the six-episode drama sees Hiddleston's shapeshifting agent of chaos step out from behind his brother's shadow and into the spotlight for a timey-wimey, sci-fi adventure that aims to get to the bottom of who Loki really is. "I wanted to explore slightly more complex character questions," says Waldron. "It's not just good versus bad. Is anybody all good? Is anybody all bad? What makes a hero, a hero? A villain, a villain?"  

Even though Loki — who loves sowing mayhem with his illusion magic and shapeshifting, all with a major chip on his shoulder — has never been one for introspection, the idea of building an entire show around him was a no-brainer for Marvel. When asked why Loki was one of the studio's first Disney+ shows, Marvel president Kevin Feige replies matter-of-factly, "More Hiddleston, more Loki." First introduced as Thor's (Chris Hemsworth) envious brother in Kenneth Branagh's Thor, Loki went full Big Bad in 2012's The Avengers. That film cemented the impish rogue as one of the shared universe's fan favorites, thanks to Hiddleston's ability to make him deliciously villainous yet charismatic and, most importantly, empathetic. The character's popularity is one of the reasons he's managed to avoid death many times.

"He's been around for thousands of years. He had all sorts of adventures," says Feige. "Wanting to fill in the blanks and see much more of Loki's story [was] the initial desire [for the series]."

The Loki we meet on the show is not the one who fought the Avengers in 2012 and evolved into an antihero in Thor: The Dark World and Thor: Ragnarok before meeting his demise at the hands of the mad titan Thanos (Josh Brolin) in 2018's Avengers: Infinity War. Instead, we'll be following a Loki from a branched timeline (a variant, if you will) after he stole the Tesseract following his thwarted New York invasion and escaped S.H.I.E.L.D. custody during the time heist featured in Avengers: Endgame. In other words, this Loki hasn't gone through any sort of redemption arc. He's still the charming yet petulant god who firmly believes he's destined to rule and has never gotten his due.

Premiering June 9, Loki begins with the Time Variance Authority — a bureaucratic organization tasked with safeguarding the proper flow of time — arresting the Loki Variant seen in Endgame because they want his help fixing all of the timeline problems he caused while on the run with the Tesseract. So there will be time travel, and a lot more of it than in Endgame. As Loki makes his way through his own procedural, he'll match wits with new characters including Owen Wilson's Agent Mobius, a brilliant TVA analyst, and Gugu Mbatha-Raw's Judge Renslayer. The question in early episodes is whether Loki will help them or take over.

"One of the things Kevin Feige led on was, 'I think we should find a way of exploring the parts of Loki that are independent of his relationship with Thor,' or see him in a duality or in relationship with others, which I thought was very exciting," says Hiddleston, who also serves as an executive producer on the show. "So the Odinson saga, that trilogy of films, still has its integrity, and we don't have to reopen it and retell it."

Yet, in order to understand where Loki is going, it's important to see where he came from.

Hiddleston can't believe how long he and Loki have been connected. "I've been playing this character for 11 years," he says. "Which is the first time I have said that sentence, I realize, and it [blows] my mind. I don't know what percentage that is exactly of my 40 years of being alive, but it's substantial."

His time as Loki actually goes a bit further back, to 2009 — a year after Robert Downey Jr. big banged the MCU into existence with Iron Man — when he auditioned for Thor. It's no secret that Hiddleston initially went in for the role of the titular God of Thunder, but Feige and director Kenneth Branagh thought his natural charm and flexibility as an actor made him better suited for the movie's damaged antagonist. "Tom gave you an impression that he could be ready for anything, performance-wise," says Branagh, who had previously worked with him on a West End revival of Checkov's Ivanov and the BBC series Wallander. "Tom has a wild imagination, so does Loki. He's got a mischievous sense of humor and he was ready to play. It felt like he had a star personality, but he was a team player."

Hiddleston fully immersed himself in the character. Outside of studying Loki's history in the Marvel Comics, he also researched how Loki and the Trickster God archetype appeared across mythology and different cultures. "He understood that he was already in something special [and] it was a special character in a special part of that early moment in the life of the Marvel universe where [he] also needed to step up in other ways," says Branagh, who was impressed by the emotional depth Hiddleston brought to the part, especially when it came to how isolated Loki felt in the Asgardian royal family.  

There was a lot riding on that first Thor feature. For one, no one knew if audiences would immediately latch onto a Shakespearean superhero movie partially set on an alien planet populated by the Norse Gods of legend. Second, it was integral to Feige's plans for the shared universe. Loki was supposed to be the main villain in The Avengers, which would not only mirror how Earth's mightiest heroes joined forces in 1963's Avengers #1 but also give Thor a believable reason for teaming up with Iron Man, Captain America (Chris Evans), and the rest of the capes. Feige first clued Hiddleston into those larger plans when the actor was in L.A. before Thor started shooting.

"I was like, 'Excuse me?' Because he was already three, four steps ahead," says Hiddleston. "That took me a few minutes to process, because I didn't quite realize how it just suddenly had a scope. And being cast as Loki, I realized, was a very significant moment for me in my life, and was going to remain. The creative journey was going to be so exciting."

Hiddleston relished the opportunity to go full villain in Avengers, like in the scene where Loki ordered a crowd to kneel before him outside a German opera house: "It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation," says the Machiavellian god. "The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

"I just knew that in the structure of that film, I had to lean into his role as a pure antagonist," Hiddleston recalls. "What I always found curious and complex about the way Loki is written in Avengers, is that his status as an antagonist comes from the same well of not belonging and being marginalized and isolated in the first Thor film. Loki now knows he has no place in Asgard."

Loki did find a place within the audience's hearts, though. Feige was "all in" on Hiddleston as his Loki from the beginning, but even he couldn't predict how much fans would love him. Feige recalls the reaction at the 2013 San Diego Comic-Con: "Did we know that after he was the villain in two movies, he would be bringing thousands of people to their feet in Hall H, in costume, chanting his name? No, that was above and beyond the plan that we were hoping for and dreaming of." It was a dream Feige first got an inkling of a year earlier during the Avengers press tour when a Russian fan slipped past security, snuck into Mark Ruffalo's car, and asked the Hulk actor to give Hiddleston a piece of fan art she created. "That was one of the early signs there was much more happening with this quote-unquote villain."  

Despite that popularity, the plan was to kill Loki off in 2013's Thor: The Dark World, but the studio reversed course after test audiences refused to believe he actually died fighting the Dark Elves. Alas, he couldn't out-illusion death forever. After returning in Taika Waititi's colorful and idiosyncratic Thor: Ragnarok, Hiddleston's character perished for real in the opening moments of Infinity War. In typical Loki fashion, before Thanos crushed his windpipe, he delivered a defiant speech that indicated he'd finally made peace with the anger he felt toward his family.  

"It felt very, very final, and I thought, 'Okay, that's it. This is Loki's final bow and a conclusive end to the Odinson saga,'" says Hiddleston, who shot that well-earned death scene in 2017.  

But, though he didn't know it yet, the actor's MCU story was far from over.

Credit: Charlie Gray for EW

When Hiddleston returned to film two scenes in Avengers: Endgame in 2017, he had no idea where Loki portaled off to after snatching the Tesseract. "Where'd he go? When does he go? How does he get there? These are all questions I remember asking on the day, and then not being given any answers," Hiddleston recalls. To be fair, it's likely the Powers That Be didn't necessarily have answers then. While Feige can't exactly recall when the writers' room for Endgame first devised Loki's escape sequence, he does know that setting up a future show wasn't the primary goal — because a Loki series wasn't on the horizon just yet.

"[That scene] was really more of a wrinkle so that one of the missions that the Avengers went on in Endgame could get screwed up and not go well, which is what required Cap and Tony to go further back in time to the '70s," says Feige. Soon after that, though, former Disney CEO Bob Iger approached Feige about producing content for the studio's forthcoming streaming service. "I think the notion that we had left this hanging loose end with Loki gave us the in for what a Loki series could be. So by the time [Endgame] came out, we did know where it was going."

As for Hiddleston, he didn't find out about the plans for a Loki show until spring 2018, a few weeks before Infinity War hit theaters. "I probably should not have been surprised, but I was," says the actor. "But only because Infinity War had felt so final."

Nevertheless, Hiddleston was excited about returning for his show. He was eager to explore Loki's powers, especially the shapeshifting, and what it meant that this disruptive figure still managed to find a seat beside the gods in mythology. "I love this idea [of] Loki's chaotic energy somehow being something we need. Even though, for all sorts of reasons, you don't know whether you can trust him. You don't know whether he's going to betray you. You don't why he's doing what he's doing," says Hiddleston. "If he's shapeshifting so often, does he even know who he is? And is he even interested in understanding who he is? Underneath all those masks, underneath the charm and the wit, which is kind of a defense anyway, does Loki have an authentic self? Is he introspective enough or brave enough to find out? I think all of those ideas are all in the series — ideas about identity, ideas about self-knowledge, self-acceptance, and the difficulty of it."

“The series will explore Loki's powers in a way they have not yet been explored, which is very, very exciting.”

The thing that truly sold Hiddleston on the show was Marvel's decision to include the Time Variance Authority, a move he describes as "the best idea that anybody had pertaining to the series." Feige and Loki executive producer Stephen Broussard had hoped to find a place for the TVA — an organization that debuted in 1986's Thor #372 and has appeared in She-Hulk and Fantastic Four stories — in the MCU for years, but the right opportunity never presented itself until Loki came along. "Putting Loki into his own procedural series became the eureka moment for the show," says Feige.  

The TVA's perspective on time and reality also tied into the themes that Waldron, Loki's head writer, was hoping to explore. "Loki is a character that's always reckoning with his own identity, and the TVA, by virtue of what they do, is uniquely suited to hold up a mirror to Loki and make him really confront who he is and who he was supposed to be," says Waldron. Hiddleston adds: "[That] was very exciting because in the other films, there was always something about Loki that was very controlled. He seemed to know exactly what the cards in his hand were and how he was going to play them…. And Loki versus the TVA is Loki out of control immediately, and in an environment in which he's completely behind the pace, out of his comfort zone, destabilized, and acting out."

To truly dig into who Loki is, the creative team had to learn from the man who knows him best: Hiddleston. "I got him to do a thing called Loki School when we first started," says director Kate Herron. "I asked him to basically talk through his 10 years of the MCU — from costumes to stunts, to emotionally how he felt in each movie. It was fantastic."

Hiddleston got something out of the Loki school, too. Owen Wilson both attended the class and interviewed Hiddleston afterward so that he could better understand Loki, as his character Mobius is supposed to be an expert on him. During their conversation, Wilson pointedly asked Hiddleston what he loved about playing the character.

"And I said, 'I think it's because he has so much range,'" says Hiddleston. "I remember saying this to him: 'On the 88 keys on the piano, he can play the twinkly light keys at the top. He can keep it witty and light, and he's the God of Mischief, but he can also go down to the other side and play the heavy keys. And he can play some really profound chords down there, which are about grief and betrayal and loss and heartbreak and jealousy and pride.'" Hiddleston recalls Wilson being moved by the description: "He said, 'I think I might say that in the show.' And it was such a brilliant insight for me into how open Owen is as an artist and a performer.'"

Owen Wilson as Mobius and Tom Hiddleston as Loki in 'Loki.'| Credit: Chuck Zlotnick/Marvel Studios

Everyone involved is particularly excited for audiences to see Hiddleston and Wilson's on-screen chemistry. "Mobius is not unlike Owen Wilson in that he's sort of nonplussed by the MCU," says Feige. "[Loki] is used to getting a reaction out of people, whether it's his brother or his father, or the other Avengers. He likes to be very flamboyant and theatrical. Mobius doesn't give him the reaction he's looking for. That leads to a very unique relationship that Loki's not used to."

As for the rest of the series, we know that Loki will be jumping around time and reality, but the creative team isn't keen on revealing when and where. "Every episode, we tried to take inspiration from different things," says Waldron, citing Blade Runner's noir aesthetic as one example.

"Part of the fun of the multiverse and playing with time is seeing other versions of characters, and other versions of the titular character in particular," says Feige, who also declined to confirm if Loki ties into Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and/or other upcoming projects.

Making Loki was especially meaningful to Hiddleston because they shot most of it during the pandemic, in late 2020. "It will remain one of the absolute most intense, most rewarding experiences of my life," he says. "It's a series about time, and the value of time, and what time is worth, and I suppose what the experience of being alive is worth. And I don't quite know yet, and maybe I don't have perspective on it, if all the thinking and the reflecting that we did during the lockdown ended up in the series. But in some way, it must have because everything we make is a snapshot of where we were in our lives at that time."

While it remains to be seen what the future holds for Loki beyond this initial season, Hiddleston isn't preparing to put the character to bed yet. "I'm open to everything," he says. "I have said goodbye to the character. I've said hello to the character. I said goodbye to the character [again]. I've learned not to make assumptions, I suppose. I'm just grateful that I'm still here, and there are still new roads to explore."

[jaskiersvalley]

Witchers didn't have daemons, that was a known fact. They were terrifying in their solitude, unfeeling and unaffected. Monsters made to fight monsters, they didn't need part of their soul for that. What the general public didn't know though was that the daemons weren't imprisoned somewhere, nor were they dead. The mages had figured out a way to separate daemon from child and force it into the most unnatural of shapes, another human. It meant two Witchers from a single child and the best part was, neither child nor daemon felt any connection to their counterpart once the process of the trials was complete.

In an effort to make sure full separation was certain and not even a sentimental link remained, daemons and children were separated and trained in different schools. Lambert had arrived at Kaer Morhen, still tripping over unfamiliar human feet and seething at being separated from his human. Over the years he tried to remember his human but, like all Witchers, they were given new names when they got their medallions and Lambert didn't think Luca still went by that name, nor would he be the scrawny kid Lambert remembered him as.

Whenever Lambert met another Witcher, he couldn't help but wonder whether it was his Luca that he was meeting. Though he wanted to believe that there would be a spark some kind of recognition there. He had been a little relieved when he met Letho and there was nothing there between them.

Of course Geralt had to be the first one to find his daemon. The smug bastard had found a bard who told people his daemon was a flea which was just like him; unnoticeable until he causes a nuisance. Most pitied him but Geralt had seen through the charade. He watched the bard without a daemon, curiosity and caution allowed him to permit Jaskier to tag along. The story tumbled out eventually.

"My great grandparents bought me. I was some kind of freak novelty some merchants were selling."

That was all Geralt had needed to hear and he was all but dragging Jaskier back to Kaer Morhen in the winter. Nobody had expected Vesemir's face to close off completely.

"I remember you!" Jaskier said in way of greeting. "You were a dick."

"Julian." The reply was terse and tight.

Lambert got a front view seat to seeing Geralt's face flit through more emotions in one second than he usually did in a whole year. The embrace was tight, Geralt's nose buried in Jaskier's hair.

Jealousy trickled through Lambert's veins. For all he knew, his human was already a dead Witcher. There was no link between Witcher and daemon, the trials severed it all completely so when one died, the other didn't even notice, let alone die from it.

"Why isn't he a Witcher?" Eskel asked, eyes glued to the happy reunion.

"Kaer Morhen needed money. Your cohort, the daemons didn't become Witchers. We sold them to the highest bigger."

Lambert didn't expect Eskel to punch Vesemir across the jaw but he was sure as shit glad he saw it. It meant he didn't need to do it on behalf of Geralt and Eskel. For the first time though, Lambert had an optimistic thought.

"It might mean he's living a happy life somewhere. I mean, look at Jaskier. He's had it better than us."

That was a topic that came up repeatedly over the next few weeks. They dreamed up all sorts of fancy lives Eskel's daemon could have lived, the wonders he would have seen. Through it all, Lambert bitterly wished his daemon could have been anything but a Witcher. Alas, Vesemir rapidly disillusioned him from that idea.

"He's become a Witcher, probably dead by now. And if you met him, you'd probably wish he was."

"Is that so?" Lambert drawled, emptying his tankard with a disappointed sigh. He couldn't believe it was empty again.

"You suffered the same shit fate I did. Your human was trained by Cats. Guxart turned into an utter dick."

The words were muttered darkly and Lambert tried not to take it to heart how much hatred Vesemir oozed. It made him all that much more determined to not go the same way as the bitter old man. Instead, he turned to Geralt with a leer. "So, is it gay or is it masturbation to want to get off with your own daemon?"

To say the table erupted in uproar was an understatement. Geralt was scowling somewhat fierce, arms crossed over his chest in protest. It only egged Lambert on further.

"I think it's incest," he declared with a shit eating grin. "Technically it's part of your family because you have the same parents."

"It's masturbation at most." Geralt was growling and glowering. "Because the daemon was still part of you."

Through it all, Eskel stayed rather quiet. It was only when the other two looked to him for opinion that he leaned forward, propping himself up on the table with a serious crease to his brows.

"I think-" the words were low and measured, "-that as long as everyone involved consents, it's fucking hot is what it is."

"The only thing it is," Vesemir finally butted in, "is a disaster waiting to happen. You don't want to meet your counterparts. Trust me."

Except that only made Lambert all the more keen. He wanted to both prove Vesemir wrong and also have what Geralt and Jaskier seemed to be hurtling towards. So, come spring, he set out with the intent of fulfilling one contract only. It was one that he would pay himself for in emotional fulfilment. He was going to find every Cat he could until he found Luca.

He met Gaetan along his travels who laughed in his face and said he was much more into snakes than wolves. That was an encounter Lambert was more than eager to cut short because he did not want to think about how Letho and Gaetan were oddly complementary. It was also another jolt of bitter jealousy, another Witcher and daemon had been reunited while he was still out there looking for his own. Assuming Luca had survived.

Meeting Guxart was a bit of an accident and Lambert wished he'd not encountered the old Cat. He growled and hissed about his stupid daemon who would probably have turned into a useless pigeon if left alone. There was obviously no love lost between them and Lambert desperately hoped he wasn't going to have the same fate.

Third time lucky, as the saying went. Lambert had trailed the new Cat for a few days, learning his habits and watching him work. There was no ounce of recognition or familiarity. But then again, the last time Lambert saw Luca, they were being dragged away from each other, foreign hands on his rapidly shifting body so his eyes could barely adjust enough to see the screaming, tear filled face of his human. It was quite possibly the worst last image he could have had of Luca.

Satisfied that the Cat wasn't someone Lambert wouldn't want to associate with, he approached in the evening when the campfire was still bright but slowly settling.

"I was wondering when my shadow would make himself known," the Cat said easily enough, barely glancing up from where he was whittling something.

The last two times Lambert had tried to be careful with exploring the idea of the Cat Witcher being his human. He was tired and cut straight to the point.

"Luca?"

By the fire the man froze. It was only luck that meant Lambert could hear the shuddering exhales of someone trying to keep up the façade of calm and collected. Finally, the man set his carving aside and stood with an easy smile that felt like a thousand lies.

"I go by Aiden." It wasn't a reply and Lambert knew it.

"I don't remember my name," he admitted softly, desperately hoping he wasn't about to make an utter tit of himself. "People call me Lambert. But I'm looking for my Luca."

He didn't expect to suddenly have an armful of Witcher clinging to him like their very lives depended on it.

"It's really you!" Aiden sounded close to tears. "You never did have a single name, usually going by Idiot, Pain In The Butt, Menace and so many other equally flattering names."

"Guess that never changed," Lambert laughed wetly. He held Aiden close, wishing he could feel as he used to when they were connected. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

It was just that start of something Lambert never thought he'd have. Easy companionship, shared disdain for the whole Witcher thing, stories upon stories of contracts gone well, gone wrong, or just plain gone. By the time winter rolled round, Lambert was firmly of the opinion that he and Aiden would travel together, fuck the Path and all the teachings about it being lonely. If Geralt could have his bard then they sure as hell could have each other.

Getting to Kaer Morhen, Lambert gleefully had an arm slung around Aiden's shoulder, introducing him to the rest of his family. He especially delighted in the flaring of Vesemir's nostrils as he took in the situation.

"Cats and Wolves don't mix. You of all people should know that."

"And you should know it's my life's mission to prove you wrong, old man," Lambert shot back.

Perhaps the most curious part of the whole winter was that Geralt was already back with not one, but two guests. Jaskier was a known quantity and Lambert greeted him warmly. The other though was a near silent man who watched them through eyes that looked way too old for his body.

"This is Cahir," Geralt said when the man didn't even introduce himself. "We'd heard rumours of a Nilfgaardian without a daemon and went to investigate."

"Not a Nilfgaardian," Cahir grumbled with a half-hearted glare.

It took Lambert a moment to figure out just why Geralt would bring such a man back before his eyes widened in delighted realisation.

"You think that-"

"Mhm."

That was the extent of their conversation because Lambert was cackling in delight. He looked Cahir over with a newfound interest. Young, like Jaskier but so very different in behaviour. As much as they'd wondered about Eskel's daemon's fate, this wasn't one they'd predicted.

Three days later Eskel was leading Scorpion into Kaer Morhen's courtyard. Lambert and Aiden were all but bouncing with excitement, not wanting to miss the moment Eskel met his daemon. In their opinion Geralt was drawing things out and making it less fun by not having them all meet in the stables. Instead, Eskel was allowed to venture into the kitchen in the company of Lambert and Aiden who were vibrating in anticipation.

"Eskel," Geralt greeted him with a warm hug. Jaskier and Cahir were behind him, even Vesemir had ventured out to see what the outcome would be. "It's good to have you home. Allow me to introduce you to Cahir."

The two looked at each other with guarded gazes and Eskel gave a terse nod. It was as anticlimactic as fuck. No recognition, not interest, nothing. Just a slow once over which, if Lambert had thought about it, was pretty much a mirror image of each other, equally considering and closed off.

Despondent, he dragged Aiden off, helping lay the table for a shared meal. Vesemir was quick to follow, there was no way to tell whether he was disappointed or relieved by the lack of drama. Geralt and Jaskier wandered out, oddly deflated. Not two seconds later there was an almighty crash from the kitchen and they were all racing back. Only to turn right around and flee after a glimpse of Cahir pinning Eskel to a wall and kissing him like Eskel was the last gasp of air for a drowning man.

"So, are they?" Jaskier asked, glancing towards the kitchen. Something else crashed and thumped but it was best not to investigate.

After a moment it was Vesemir who tiredly said, "Does it matter? It doesn't seem like they much care."

All in all, Lambert didn't think he cared either. Cahir and Eskel seemed happy enough in their new acquaintanceship, trying to figure out their past could wait, if they even wanted to explore it. Though Lambert had a hard time imagining Cahir as a goat. Over the years he'd heard Eskel lament enough about how his daemon preferred to take the form of a goat.

Regret came the next morning at breakfast when Eskel and Cahir appeared at the table, seemingly indifferent. If the rest of them hadn't see the two almost violently making out in the kitchen before disappearing to a bedroom, they wouldn't have guessed anything had gone on between them.

"Hey Geralt," Eskel called, face passive. "You know the difference between a goldfish and a mountain goat?"

"A mountain goat could live in Kaer Morhen but a goldfish couldn't?"

Eskel rolled his eyes. "No, a goldfish mucks around a fountain."

"And a mountain goat fucks around a mountain," Cahir finished the joke. He and Eskel high fived without looking at each other. Lambert only smacked his head on the table when Cahir continued, "And I am no goldfish."

[sekceesimps]

The Adeptus’s Temptation (Xiao x reader oneshot)

summary: Xiao watches and reacts to his darling being flirted with by a certain Geo Archon.  angst (kinda) but ends with fluff.  

a/n Hey anon, I loved your requests so I decided to do both of them… hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the love and feel free to leave another request (that goes for all of you!) 

This is sort of a more in depth version of the Xiao part in the Genshin Jealousy HCs

Also sorry for the delays between publishing, Tea and I have been busy with our personal lives, but we’re trying to write more! 

Keep liking and following us, it genuinely motivates me to write. 

 Sincerely Coffee  

Who would have ever thought that the Conqueror of Demons, the Vigilant Yaksha, the great adeptus Xiao would ever have a significant other that was human. Certainly not you and definitely not him. 

Xiao is not someone who is easy to open up and be kind, but you managed to break through his cold and harsh demeanor. A surprise to the adeptus who had resigned himself to living his life alone and far from others. You are someone special to him in a world filled with incompetent and useless humans. 

It took some time for him to allow you to spend more days with him and even allow you to initiate physical affection. At first, it came as a relief when you were out doing commissions or just going out to work, he needed his space after all. He was worried about how fast he was falling for you and clung onto the hope that the space he left would allow him to protect himself. 

As your warmth and presence grew on him more, a part of him yearned to be at your side and let you closer to his heart. He had put up his icy walls to combat the heartbreak that comes after losing friend after friend, he was distraught with how quickly you broke through to him. He grumbled at your hand holding, but leaning into your touch nonetheless. 

Your dangerous commissions started to lessen as he refused to let you take on the most harmful of enemies without him. After all, he had no idea what he would do if he lost you. 

Xiao’s favorite thing to do with you is sit at the top of Wangshu Inn or even just the cliff sides of Liyue and bask in your attention and presence. He practically glowed under your loving gaze and from the light brushes of your hand against his. He had known the land for thousands of years and he had seen the most beautiful of landscapes in his time guarding it. He thought that he had seen every stunning thing in this world, that was at least until he met you. 

Your bravery, resilience, and overwhelming beauty had completely captured him, and as time went on he fell further and further for you. The life he envisioned the two of you to live together was a calm and peaceful one. He knew it probably wouldn’t be possible with the nature of both of your responsibilities and his own life span, but an adeptus could still dream.  

Now as much as Xiao wants to protect you, he can’t really leave Liyue. He’s able to help you when you’re here with him, but he’s essentially powerless when you go to Mondstadt. Of course, he’s entertained the thought of just leaving for a bit and staying by your side to protect you. In the end, he always lets you leave for work with a light kiss to your forehead and a heavy feeling in his heart. 

You had accustomed him to your soft affections and gentle mannerisms. He was always reluctant in letting you leave, but he trusted your abilities and simply had to stew in his reluctance when you were gone. He often told you to simply call out his name if you were in trouble and he’d be there in a moment. To this you would simply smile and reassure him with soft kisses to the top of his head. It was a miracle when he had managed to convince you to take on more commissions and bounties in the Liyue area. It made it easier for him to come to your side for aid and also to watch over you. It also allowed for more frequent dates, which made both of you incredibly happy. 

You always had the most interesting stories from your time adventuring. When you two were relaxing on loving moonlight nights, he looked forward to the smile on your face when you spoke in detail about your commissions. He was silent and let you speak, paying full attention to you. Xiao loved the silence and peace. He hated when humans would talk for hours on end, it was unnecessary and wasted his time. However, this sentiment didn’t carry on with you. 

He often urged you to talk about your day and the people you met. Xiao does everything he can to coax more of your sweet voice out. Your voice had always been like music to his ears. For you, he could bear not being alone. For you, he was carving out hours of his day to cuddle and listen to you speak. 

That was until everything changed with your adventuring routes. Previously, right after you switched from Mondstadt routes, the Guild had kept you near the Wangshu Inn and around the Qingce Village area. However, due to increased demand for your services, you had been moved South towards Liyue Harbor. The adventures you went on now were much simpler, but much more boring. You’d complain to your boyfriend about how you had to talk to too many people and how exhausting it was for you. Xiao would listen intently and offer a comforting embrace, silently happy that at least you weren’t out risking your life every day.  

His concern began when you moved on from random requests and commissions with different people to a more stable and consistent job. You had accepted a job from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor as a one time thing, but your skill and agreeability had earned you a more permanent position there. 

Your day to day job was to just assist and protect different members with finding and restoring relics across Liyue. However, it allowed you to move around more and actually engage in combat, a welcome change from before. You had helped the director herself, but your favourite employee to work with was Mr. Zhongli.  He was a tall and serious man, but he was powerful and amusing to talk to. 

The first adventure you had gone on with him, you couldn’t stop talking about it with Xiao when you came home that night. One adventure turned into ten quite quickly as the two of you made a habit of engaging in all your commissions with the parlor together. Zhongli as your companion in travel gave you a sense of stability and a feeling of safety when you were out in dangerous situations again. 

Every night you came back, you told Xiao about the mysterious and strong man’s aid to you. The passion you spoke of his power and of his intelligence in the culture of Liyue surprised him at first. As you kept talking about Zhongli, Xiao started to feel different. He was no longer eager to hear of your adventures because he felt something very strange now. 

Xiao has never felt afraid. At least, not truly. He is not afraid of death as he had accepted it long ago. Yet now you had given him something to live for and losing you would leave him back into a pit of despair, suffering, longing, and emptiness. Seeing you gush over the assistant to the funeral director filled him with a new unpleasant feeling. Heart numbing fear. 

He was careful to not let you know how he felt. He was nervous that you would view him as pitiful for what he truly felt in his heart. Bile would fill up in his throat when you talked about that man as he held your full attention. In response, Xiao would start to capture your mouth with a kiss if he sensed that you’d talk about Zhongli on your dates. It got you to shut up and restored his happiness for a moment. 

He felt guilty for interrupting you of course. Yet, he couldn’t muster up the courage to confront his own feelings of insecurity. The best he could do was try to prove to you how much he could offer. As his kisses began to get more heated, he found it fit to use his strength to carry you back to your shared bedroom. 

Out of curiosity, Xiao decided to actually look at this Mr. Zhongli one day. If he was feeling insecure before, oh man, any self confidence he had was now wrecked. The man was absolutely perfect with you. 

You were smiling and walking through the harbor-city side by side with the sharply dressed golden eyed man. The walk that the two of you had was powerful. The men and women of Liyue whispered behind you two about how cute the both of you were. Xiao silently watched as you two sat at the tea house and drank tea in silence. Zhongli had never taken his loving and intent gaze off of you. The Yaksha took in more of the man’s appearance. He was much taller than Xiao was and carried himself with a royal sort of dignity. As the two of you finished your tea, the man made a move to pay for your tea by charging it to the funeral parlor. He’s rich too, Xiao thinks sourly. What doesn’t he have? He has enough when Zhongli’s resoundingly deep voice tells you how well you fought today. If Xiao sounded like that he would never want to shut up.  

He goes back into his bad habits of distancing himself and retreating back into his own silence. His awful self loathing that you worked hard to remove has manifested itself again and begun lashing out on you. Brushing you off, short snappy responses, and hardly responding to anything. This results in you thinking you did something wrong. 

Oh how the adeptus breaks when he sees you try to make him Almond Tofu and various other small gifts to please him. He knows you didn’t do anything, but all he wants is you to free yourself from him and spend your life with someone who could provide so much more than he could. 

In your shared bedroom, he would be physically present, but he was silent and hardly even looked at you. He could hear your muffled tears at night when you thought he was asleep. It took everything within him to not turn to you and let you lay your head in his chest and leave kisses across your face after he dried away your tears. It hurt him again when he heard you asking Verr Goldet if she could help you plan a nice surprise for him. As he stayed to listen, he had to listen to the innkeeper give you kind words as you broke down explaining what it was for.

All your advances towards his forgiveness and love go rejected. He decides that it would be better for you in the long run if it was like this. He stays cold, at least until he sees something that pushes him back to your side. 

His pity party and moping is interrupted by the strangest feeling in his heart. Something painful crackles and burns inside of him. He’s not sure how he knows, but he feels that something is very wrong with you. 

Xiao was not called the adeptus of speed for no reason. The speed in which he reached you was one he had not used for hundreds of years. 

You weren’t in any life threatening danger, but the bond that you two shared was. He could see Zhongli gently move a strand of your hair behind your ear. You had a more nervous smile on your face. 

“How fascinating, Y/N” his voice breaks the silence, “Your abilities seem to get stronger every day,” he continues praising you.

Your face flushes a light pink and you look down, breaking the gaze between you two. “You’re too kind, Mr. Zhongli, but I wouldn’t have been able to grow so much without your guidance,”

The golden eyed man smiles at this as he leans in slightly closer to you, “In that case, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” 

Xiao clears his throat as he steps out from the bushes and stalks towards you with a glower on his face. You look at your lover in surprise, not seeing or hearing his voice in quite some time. 

“Actually, she’s already taken so you can take your leave now,” his words filled with venom. He doesn’t even try to be subtle as he holds his emerald spear by his side in warning to the man who tried to make a move on you. 

Zhongli nods, “I understand, sorry for intruding,” as he leaves. Xiao’s watchful gaze not leaving him until he’s far out of sight. Your adeptus moves to your side and engulfs you in a warm hug that he wishes to convey all of his feelings of love into. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that, it was unnecessary and you didn’t even do anything wrong. Give me a chance,” he seldom begs, “please,” he adds. His golden eyes piercing into your soul and displaying such regret. 

You don’t respond, but you lean closer to him and press your lips softly against his. He forgot how much he missed this. 

Oh how stupid he was for not letting you know how much he adored you known more. Well, now he had the time to make it up to you. He brings you towards the cliffside and the two of you sit down together once more, the bond shared between you too also renewed. 

As you look at him, he lets you lean on his shoulder and look at the sun’s light beginning to wane as the sky was touched with beautiful pastel pinks and purples. 

“I love you, Y/N” he whispers softly as he nuzzles his face into your H/C hair. 

“Hmm, I love you too, Xiao,” you respond sweetly and relax under his presence.

The brown haired Archon chuckled lightly as he watched his Adeptus gently place his arm around your waist. He was happy that the cold guardian had finally found someone to love and someone to take care of him in return. When the time was necessary, Morax was ready to bring a contract to let the two of you spend the rest of eternity together, as two soulmates should. 

a/n Hope you enjoyed it! Leave a like and some feedback, please.

[lovetorn]

in chains for you [dream]

Dream x Fem!Reader Criminals!AU

Summary: The Dream Team is an underground crime group that works for Techno Industries. But what happens when one of their most valuable members is taken for ransom by their enemy, Schlatt?

Warnings: Swearing & mean insults :(, kidnapping, death, violence, uhhh nothing else? message me if you see anything else!

Word Count: 8.1k+

A/N: I’m so sorry for any mistakes/plot holes, my adhd said no❤️ when i was editing :(

Note: Please remember these are all characters! Since I do not know any of these people in real life, I have created all aspects of their lives, personalities etc. and apologise for any OOC moments. I portrayed Schlatt as the villain purely from his role play in the Dream SMP, obviously, I do not believe him to be like this irl in any way. He is also written as much older than the Dream Team to enhance the villain-like characteristics. Remember, this is just fiction! Thanks! 

Night had fallen over California, and the icy breeze from the South blew through the city of Beverly Hills. The lights from several luxury hotels and displays lit up the streets and exposed the city. It was more alive than half the people that resided there. Here, people only cared about their money and their assets; barely any room left for emotions towards others that didn’t benefit them. 

“Hurry the fuck up, Sapnap!” 

The gravelly sound of Dream shouting prompted Y/n to run faster. Tensions were high as three criminals rushed to the dark SUV that sat running outside of the tall building. They clutched black duffle bags in both hands when the sound of familiar sirens cried a few blocks away. 

Unlocking the car, George threw open the back car door and launched his duffle bags onto the car seats before hopping in. Dream rounded the car and opened the door to the driver’s seat, Y/n doing the same for the passenger’s side. And whilst they were shoving the bags in, Sapnap came running out of the building, another duffle bag in his hand and a briefcase in the other. The ends of his white bandana flew around in the wind behind him as he missed a dip in the floor.

“What the fuck has he got now? We’ve gotta go!” George exclaimed, hurrying the boy by waving his hand. Dream put the car in drive as Sapnap slammed the door, “Go, go, go!”

The car squealed while Dream pulled off of the curb, the wheels screeching against the tar as he pressed his foot heavily on the accelerator. 40, 50, 70, 100, 130mph. The speedometer jumped by 10s and then by 40s as the car barrelled down the long strip of road, the wailings of sirens fading behind them. 

George, Y/n and Sapnap were laughing as they took their masks off. The sound pissed Dream off as he gripped the steering wheel harder; why is nobody taking this seriously? 

Ripping his white mask off his face and throwing it into his lap, Dream looked at Sapnap through the rearview mirror, “Why did you take so long? That could’ve fucked our whole plan!” 

“Jeez, chill out.”

Dream shot him a glare through the mirror as Sapnap put his hand up, “Schlatt said he had a briefcase full of Chick-Fil-A gift cards, so I grabbed the first one I saw.” 

George lolled his head to the side, mouth agape as he stared at him in disbelief. “Are you shitting me?” 

Sapnap shook his head, resting the case on his thighs and popping open the clasps. 

“Fuck yeah!” He cheered, turning the case around to show the rest of the car the bundles of hundreds of red and white cards that laid on a sheet of red velvet. Sapnap’s eyes remained as wide as saucers the entire time he tilted the case at different angles to ensure everybody saw. 

Y/n turned around in her seat to face the boys in the back and giggled. 

“Can I have one?” She asked, holding her hands up in a praying gesture. Sapnap laughed and nodded, “I’ve got enough for a whole country! And anything for you, Y/n.” Y/n smiled at him, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ before turning back around to face the road that was gone as quick as it came. 

The deep sigh that came from Dream in the driver’s seat caught the attention of everybody in the car. Sapnap rolled his eyes and shut the case. “Calm down, green boy. She’s all yours.” 

Arriving at the motel George had found, the four lugged the black duffle bags in the small room. Locking the room door, Dream spun around to see everybody sitting on one of the single beds. 

He eyed the black duffle bags in the corner with a frown, each one full to the brim with thousands of 100 dollar bills that they had to transfer back to base. George cleared his throat when he saw his friend looking at the bags and raised his eyebrows, “Dream?” The man turned at the sound of his name and nodded once. He had an odd feeling in his stomach but decided to ignore it and face the problem at hand first before anything else.

Dream sighed, “We did good tonight,” The three on the bed hollering softly, fist-bumping each other before Dream continued. 

“But...” Y/n, George and Sapnap all groaned, throwing their heads back at the oncoming disappointment that Dream was going to throw on them.

“Sapnap, what the fuck was that? You can’t go off on your own tangents during a plan this big! What would’ve happened if—”

Sapnap’s eyes widened when he realised Dream’s rage was aimed towards him. “Dream! It’s okay, bro. I’m right here, we’re all alive—”

“Don’t talk back to me.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Y/n avoided Dream’s gaze when it landed on her. She didn’t want him asking her to back him up; not tonight. 

“Anyway, I hope you all know what comes next.” The three nodded, heads down and eyes trained on the worn carpet. Sapnap and George stood up and went to different sides of the room, George to the bathroom and Sapnap to the desk where he pulled out his iPod and earphones. 

Dream watched as Y/n lifted her head back up, meeting his gaze. She gave him a soft smile and patted the space on the bed next to her. Dream ran a hand through his tangled blonde hair and walked over to her, sitting where her hand once was. 

“You okay?” She asked softly, placing her hand over his that sat in his lap. Dream nodded before huffing. “I just don’t know how successful this plan actually is. Something’s off.” He whispered, grabbing her hand. Y/n leaned forward to try and meet his green eyes; the ones that made her weak at the knees when he looked at her a certain way. But he didn’t need to know that considering they were just friends.  

“We did good today, look! We’re here, alive and well. And if something’s bothering you, just know that I’ll always be here to help you. Now, I need the bathroom.” She smiled, squeezing his hand before standing up. 

“George? When are you done?” She yelled at the bathroom door. Dream tilted his head to the side as he admired her, what would he do without her?

“Soon! Stop being annoying!” 

It had reached a point in the night where Dream couldn’t sleep. The single bed he laid in was uncomfortable, and the nagging feeling of doubt kept him awake. Something was wrong. 

He looked over a Y/n who laid in the other bed across from him. His top priority was to keep her safe; he had to. His eyes then travelled to his two other best friends—Sapnap in the desk chair and George on the brown couch. 

He smiled softly. Dream rarely got emotional, but seeing his friends and partners in crime—literally—so vulnerable, had his mind plagued with vicious scenarios that brought tears to his alarmingly vacant eyes. 

They weren’t always void, but seeing death as he did, had pushed the soul of nature out of his once striking eyes. He thought they looked dull now, matching the rest of his face, but Y/n always told him they were the prettiest she’d ever seen. He’d always flush when she said that which always elicited a poke in the ribs and a teasing comment from her. 

Dream forgot how long he’d been lying there, his mind drifting in and out of sleeping until a high-pitched squeak came from the main door. He reached for his knife that held a place under the pillow and sat up, holding his knife and facing the door. 

On the floor next to the door, sat an ominous black envelope. Dream chewed the inside of his lip, his heart beating rapidly with panic. How did they find them?

— 

“How the fuck did they find us?” George asked, his palms sweaty as he held the letter in his hands. The gold foiling around the letters was both alluring and terrifying. 

Palm Casino.  Wednesday Night. 12am.  Be there, or face death. 

Dream had rolled his eyes when he read the letter for the first time; Schlatt was so dramatic. And although fear and doubt had set in his stomach, he didn’t let his friends know. 

How did they find them? They had been careful with the robbery, getting everything they needed without leaving a trace, nothing out of place, except for—

Dream shoved his partners out of the way and leaned down to pick up the briefcase with the Chic-Fil-A gift cards. Sapnap went to interject, primarily to save his prized possession when Y/n grabbed his elbow and shook her head when he turned to her. 

Dream opened it then turned it upside down, emptying the cards onto the rotting carpet. 

“Dream—” 

“Shut up.” He then continued to rip the velvet from the inside of the case to reveal a small box with a red flashing light. Sapnap stopped his wriggling and stood staring at the device. 

“This is your fault, you dipshit.” 

Sapnap was silent. Y/n softened her grip to rub his elbow comfortingly instead, the action making Dream narrow his gaze. The girl rolled her eyes and spoke up, “How was he supposed to know it was in there, Dream? You can’t blame him for this at all.” 

Dream shook his head and dropped his gaze to the floor before huffing and scrunching his nose in a disgusted manner.

Midnight had arrived quickly, like a thief in the dark, and the crescent moon hung high in the sky. A light breeze swept into the city, making the palm trees sway in the delicate moonlight as a black SUV pulled up to the Palm Casino. 

“Okay, here we go. I want you all on your best behaviour,” Dream joked. And as his mask only hid half of his face, a lopsided grin graced his face as he popped the door open. Y/n knew that smile; it was one that was begging for chaos, but she knew it was just a deflection from his real emotions. 

Walking to the entrance, Y/n reached up and placed her hand on Dream’s shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Dream let out a laugh, “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

The boys sported black on black suits with matching Rolex watches, the gold of the timepieces shining in the low light. The only differences between them being Dream’s smiley mask, Sapnap’s white bandana in his hair, and George’s white glasses upon the top of his head. Y/n, on the other hand, wore a fitting dress with gold jewellery. She would’ve worn anything else, but considering the situation, she complied. 

As the waitress walked them over to the poker table, Y/n caught Dream’s hand in her own, squeezing it once before letting go. She knew he was worried and the action in itself was enough to calm Dream’s nerves for the time being, but as soon as he made eye contact with Schlatt, it all went away. 

“Boys! How are we doing?” The man yelled, throwing his arms up with a smile on his face. Dream nodded once and sat down at the table, Sapnap and George following. Y/n went to sit beside Sapnap but was cut off by Schlatt who took it upon himself to police the members at said table. 

“I’m sorry, gorgeous. I’m afraid this game is only for the men.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and clasped his hands on the table. Y/n narrowed her gaze at him before rolling her eyes and moving to stand behind Dream. 

Schlatt then stood and excused himself from the table, making George throw Dream a confused look before the man spoke up. He walked towards another room, guarded by velvet ropes, but not before shouting, “Let the games begin!” 

—  

Dream sat observing the last man in the game next to himself, ensuring he wouldn’t lose, not that he ever did. He had learnt from his father early on to read the expressions of the players around him and how to benefit from the folds and raises. People were shocked when they found out his age, bewildered that such a young man could earn numbers like that. 

Dream stared narrowly at the man; his eyebrows raised as he wore a sly smirk. The man in front of him was profusely sweating, his hand reaching to grasp a tissue from his pocket as the last community card was placed down. The surrounding men groaned; their expressions irritable as the Dream Team gained another win. Dream threw the cards onto the Poker table and stood up, offering his hand to the gentleman. He reluctantly accepted then hurried out of the room, four of his acquaintances following.  

Y/n watched as Dream swapped seats with Sapnap, allowing him his turn at the game. She then moved and leaned down to Dream’s ear, “This is bullshit, where’s Schlatt gone?”

Dream shook his head and shrugged quickly, “Fuck knows.”

“Let’s go, Sapnap,” A man they recognised as Fletcher spoke, sitting down in front of the young man as his buddies filed around the table to take their seats. Sapnap didn’t talk, he only glanced back at Dream who tilted his head, holding his forefinger up to indicate this would be their last round.  

Once Sapnap had collected his two starting cards, the game began. Dream watched as each of the men were eliminated through folds and how they apologised to Fletcher for letting him down. The man brushed them off, telling them to “watch how it’s done”. Dream, Sapnap and George stifled a laugh as they watched the second last man fold. Behind them, Y/n grew impatient and began mumbling to herself about how ridiculous it was.

“Excuse me? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a round? Get the fuck outta here.” Fletcher said, his voice harsh as Y/n’s eyebrows flew to her hairline. Dream went to interject before the man spoke again. 

“A scotch on the rocks.” He then said. 

“I’m not a waitress.” Y/n’s voice was monotone while the man waved her away. Y/n scoffed before she moved towards him. Dream’s hand flew out to catch her wrist, and Y/n rolled her eyes. As angry as Dream was, he wasn’t going to start something with Schlatt’s men before the meeting actually started. Sapnap didn’t pay any attention to the conversations around him, focusing only on winning.

Fletcher chuckled, holding his cards close to his chest, “you dumb kid”. Sapnap’s facial expression went from serious to amused, watching as the dealer placed down the final community card. Sapnap’s eyes flickered to Fletcher’s grey ones as he slammed his cards down on the table. Sapnap then reached to gather his winnings in chips, earning pats on the back from George and a gentle laugh and fist-bump from Dream. 

Fletcher sat in disbelief; he was sure he would win this one. Sapnap stood up and embraced George in a hug before moving to Dream as Fletcher circled around the table. 

“You cheating bastard!” Sapnap held his hands up in defence, clueless as to why this man was coming at him. 

“No cheating here, Fletch, just plain luck,” He grinned, clearly not fearful of him. 

“Dude just take the loss and move on, it’s not that deep,” Y/n said, catching the attention of Fletcher again. 

“Not now, you whore. The men are talking,” Fletcher glowered, looking intimidatingly down at the girl. 

Y/n, however, wasn’t fazed by his words, “Look, it’s not his fault that you lost. I guess you just suck at Poker.” Fletcher’s face went bright red, and Y/n swore she saw steam coming out of his ears. Her eyes widened as she took a step back slowly. George pushed her behind him despite her protests of being able to handle herself. 

“Come on Fletch, there’s no need to go after an innocent woman,” Dream asserted, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. He soon realised that his actions were a mistake as Fletcher spun around and threw his fist towards Dream’s nose. Dream’s mask had cracked slightly on impact, his green eyes widening in panic as he stumbled back slightly. 

Sapnap scanned the other men around them and calculated their next moves before he ducked a punch from a redhead. George’s hands gripped under Dream’s armpits as he pulled him up, dodging fists from the older men. Dream’s eyes were watering from the unexpected hit to the nose, and he could barely see.  

But what he did see was Y/n raising the metal drinks tray she found on the poker table next to them and slamming it down on the back of Fletcher’s bald head. Her eyes were wide as she stood behind his figure that was now on the floor, groaning. Her eyes met his and Dream felt his breath catch in his throat, but he couldn’t acknowledge it at the present time because there were five other guys to deal with. 

Dream regained his posture and cocked his head to the right, stretching his neck before standing off to the others. The men stood with their fists raised in front of their faces and their feet apart, ready to engage. George, Sapnap and Dream were just as confused as Y/n was, who was making sure Fletcher stayed down. 

“I really fucking hate you guys. Let’s get a move on with the meeting, shall we?” Y/n said lazily, she just wanted to get home. 

—

Dream sat in a large black chair, the lower half of his face covered in blood, the top half covered by his stained, cracked mask. Y/n had her legs crossed, with a stern expression, glaring at Schlatt as he rounded the table to sit at his obnoxiously large desk. 

Schlatt had demanded it only be Dream and Y/n in the office with him, making George and Sapnap wait outside. The two boys had angrily complained about it, but Dream assured them it would be fine, leaving them to sulk next to the heavy wooden door that led to Schlatt’s office. 

“You two make a good pair, eh?” Schlatt smirked, bringing his hands to interlock in front of him on the desk. Dream glanced at Y/n, who gave him a bored look. 

He then turned back to the front, “Why are we here, Schlatt?” 

“Oh, not very friendly,” He laughed, earning no responses from anyone in the room except for his assistant, Quackity, who stood in the corner. “That’s Quackity by the way.” 

Dream shrugged, uninterested with the introduction of his assistant and remained still until Schlatt continued.

“Now, tell me where the money is, Dream.” There it was—the literal million-dollar question.

The masked blonde didn’t react. Y/n cast her eyes towards him, seeing nothing but the white mask that covered his face. The smile on the front was a harsh contrast to the anger Dream felt. And when Schlatt huffed and wiggled his fingers at Quackity, then Dream perked up. 

Suddenly, Y/n wrists were being grabbed by Quackity, who had crossed the room in seconds. Dream immediately stood, only to be pushed back by Schlatt who had moved in front of him. 

Y/n opened her mouth object when Quackity whacked his free hand over her mouth. She let out a whimper at the smack, tears welling in her eyes in shock. Nonetheless, she continued to struggle against his harsh grip on her wrists. Y/n’s breathing became heavier, her thoughts clouded with fear of the unknown; what would Schlatt want with her?  

Quackity dragged the girl from the large chair towards the other side of the room, where another door lay, but he didn’t take her in yet. Dream’s gaze was locked on Y/n, everything else slipping away as he watched her thrash against her captor. 

“Let’s call it leverage?” Schlatt’s haunting voice echoed through the room, and he had an evil gleam in his eye. “You tell me where you hid the money, and I’ll let her go.” 

Dream’s head was on a swivel when he turned back to face Schlatt. Panic blossomed in his stomach; if he gave up the money, they’d all be dead. And as hard of a decision as it was, Dream knew what to do—he had his full faith in Y/n. He remembered what she had told him when they first started working together and drew in a breath. He nodded at Y/n once, receiving a pleading look in reply, and sighed.  

“Give ‘em hell, baby.” 

—

“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?” Sapnap spat as the three men got back into the SUV outside of the casino. George shook his head in the backseat, scoffing as Dream ignored their questions. 

Meanwhile, Dream drove in complete fury. He knew what he did was wrong and stupid, but Y/n once demanded he let her go if she was ever held for ransom. It was an odd request at the time. And this was an irrational move that could get her killed, but he had no choice—it was her or the whole operation, and Dream was loyal. 

“Hello? You fuckin’—” 

“Sapnap.” 

The youngest froze at Dream’s tone and sunk into his seat, choosing to look out of the window than at him. He flexed his hand against the steering wheel, refusing to meet their gazes.

“Y/n asked me before any of this started, that if she were to ever be held hostage, for ransom, whatever, to trust her and let them take her. I don’t know why I never asked her why, but we have to trust her, and you have to trust me for making this decision.”  

“Call Techno and tell him that Schlatt’s taken one of us for ransom.” Dream said to no one in particular. Sapnap scrambled to get his phone from his pocket and dial their boss’ number, but not before turning and facing Dream from the passenger’s seat. 

“I—we trust you, Dream. And we’ll be with you till the end, okay?” Sapnap mumbled, gesturing to George in the backseat.  

“She’ll be fine.” Dream had a hard time believing George, “We know Y/n, she’s a strong girl—a whole lot stronger than us—she’ll get through it.” 

The piercing sound of metal against metal made Y/n cringe, distracting her from the burning of the new rope bound around her wrists. Quackity’s heavy breathing almost made her laugh, they hadn’t even walked for that long.

He didn’t say anything to Y/n when he guided her inside a cell. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked around the dirty space, scrunching her nose in disgust as she noticed the damp walls and the stray cockroach that scurried across the floor. 

“I’m sorry about the state of this, we don’t have visitors often,” Quackity said, exhaling a scoff he let go of her arms. Y/n’s face dropped when she felt the rope loosen and fall off her wrists. She remained still as Quackity rummaged around behind her. 

The screech of the cell door closing startled Y/n—she thought she’d have more time to fight back. She heard Quackity shuffle away from the cell, and shortly after, the sound of dress shoes tapping on the concrete floor caught her attention. 

Y/n slowly turned around when someone cleared their throat behind her. She rolled her eyes as she came face to face with Schlatt. He stood with his hands behind his back in his usual arrogant suit and his deep red tie.

“Do you know why my tie is this red?” He asked, his head tilted to the side with a patronising smirk. It was an odd question, but Y/n could already guess the answer, she just didn’t want to hear it when she was this vulnerable. 

Schlatt leaned down and closer to the cell, his face fitting perfectly between the bars as his eyes glared into Y/n’s.  

“It’s so you can’t see the bloodstains.” He winked before sanding to his full height, his mood shifting entirely, “Anyways, I’m gonna keep this short. Get comfortable, Princess, you’ll be here awhile knowing Dream and his goons.” 

With a clap of his hands and a small chuckle, Schlatt left, his shoes clacking down the hallway and into the elevator at the end of the hallway. The machine dinged and then it was gone, leaving Y/n in a deafening silence. 

She sank to her knees, crestfallen, onto the concrete beneath her, still in her tight dress. As strong-minded as Y/n was, she couldn’t bring herself to give a witty remark. She was absolutely defeated. She knew Dream would get her out, eventually, but at what cost? Would Dream let everything the Dream Team has worked for in the past 3 years go to waste? For her? 

She didn’t let herself cry as she picked herself up, and hesitantly sat on the cot in the corner of the cell. Her dress was uncomfortable, and the feeling of satin against her skin irritated her immensely. 

Y/n had no idea how far underground she was; she sat in complete darkness and utter silence, nothing but the ringing of her ears and her screaming thoughts to keep her company. 

—

Dream paced the small space, tearing at his hair roots with his fists, his face red with panic and anger. He was so in his head; he couldn’t hear his two friends calling his name from 3 feet away. The thought of Y/n alone with Schlatt made him so infuriated he could punch a hole through the brick wall next to him. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and the stinging of his nails digging into his palms was numbing. 

Sapnap threw George a concerned glance, his brown eyes pleading George to do something to stop Dream from falling further into an endless loop of guilt and despair. 

“Dream!” The sound of George calling him in that tone caused him to pause his pacing. He turned to look at his English friend with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“You need to stop! Y/n wouldn’t want you having an existential crisis over her, she’d want you to hurry up and figure out a plan to get her back.”

Dream stood frozen for a moment; what would Y/n want? It was like a switch flipped inside Dream when he stood up straight, sending him into autopilot. All emotion wiped was from his face, leaving his eyes vacant and face blank. And as much as George hated to admit it, this cold version of his best friend knew what to do and how to do it efficiently. The sudden change shocked Sapnap slightly, leaving him frightened as he grabbed onto George’s sleeve. 

“Ok boys, let’s get to work.”

Emotion is a weakness, and they sure did not need that right now. 

Y/n had been suffering in the same tight dress and uncomfortable heels for a week; Schlatt’s lack of humanity and human decency (as well as kidnapping her in the first place), had put him in Y/n’s bad books.  

The only human interaction she had was Quackity bringing her meals twice a day and the small conversations they would have as she ate. He didn’t talk about his work much, only hinting at his eventual betrayal and escape from Schlatt. Although, he continually spoke of his family to her, telling Y/n that he was there against his will and was threatened with death if he left. She felt sympathy for the boy, he was so young. 

When Alex, as she now calls him, left her, Y/n was back with her mind. She had remained seemingly sane despite being in solitary confinement but was going insane without Dream. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his emerald ones gleaming at her through the darkness, their vibrance giving her shivers. 

She missed his touch: his cold hands in her’s, their knees brushing slightly when sitting on the motel bed, his hand on her thigh in the car, despite complaints from the boys. She cared deeply for him, and she knew he did too, but they were both too scared of rejection to get together. Sapnap always teased them for being ‘pussies’, and George would roll his eyes whenever they would flush at their closeness—god, she missed them too.

Biting her lip, Y/n tried her best to prevent tears from falling down her cheeks. But she hadn’t let them fall since being held ransom, fearing she would be seen as weak by Schlatt, and even Alex. The burning at the back of her throat was fiery as she let them out. She struggled to breathe, clawing at her throat when she felt her lungs tighten. Y/n tried to sit upright to calm herself down, but her pained cries filled the cold, concrete basement and rattled the cell bars. She sobbed for hours, only falling asleep when the last ones dried. 

—

As Dream put the car in park, he turned to face George in the passenger’s seat.

“You ready?” He asked. George exhaled and nodded, “Let’s get her back.” 

Dream smirked. His attitude had flipped entirely from last week, leaving him cocky and ready to fight the world. However, George saw through his best friend’s act. He heard Dream’s choked and ragged cries in the bathroom at 4 am, and noticed his red, puffy eyes at 7 am when they woke up. He saw the way his hands shook every time he drove, and he caught onto Dream’s routine of not eating until Sapnap would force him away from the table with the plans spread across it. 

George was concerned for his best friend, and Dream was oblivious. But despite everything, George knew he was determined to get Y/n back, above all else. Her life came before his own, and that scared George to his core, how far would Dream go to save Y/n?

“Ok, Geor—” The piercing screams of fire alarms made Dream jump as they echoed down the street. The two boys shared a surprised look before they hopped out of the SUV. They jogged down the road towards the Palm Casino with black duffle bags on their shoulders.  

Flames rose as high as the sky and embers rained on Dream and George as they ran through the smoke to the entrance. Employees darted out of the main doors, crashing into the boys as they continued to the central control room of the casino. George heaved the heavy door open before closing it firmly behind them. They dropped the bags and began drinking in the clean air as they set their eyes on Sapnap who sat behind a desk with his feet up on the table. 

“Well, boys, how did I do?” He said, arms out as he cocked his eyebrow up. George laughed in disbelief, “I can’t believe that worked.”  

Sapnap shook his head quickly, “You had no faith in me, did you?” He threw his hand on his chest and stood up from his spot. 

“Sap, you did great!” Dream exclaimed, walking over to slap the boy on the back. Sapnap’s pained expression turned into a smile as he watched George do the same. 

“Ok then, where’s the security office?”

—

“I can’t fit my fat ass through there, Sapnap.” Dream’s jaw dropped as he measured the gap with his hands, “There’s just no way!” 

George rolled his eyes and pushed Dream towards the duct, “Just go! Do you want Y/n back or not?” Dream’s face scrunched up, much like a child when having a tantrum, and whined. 

“Why don’t you just go? I simply just cannot fit! Here, you wanna see?” George and Sapnap nodded, amused looks on their faces as they watched him dive headfirst into the air duct. 

His body slipped in in such an elegant way that it made them burst out laughing. Dream, who couldn’t see his friends, exhaled deeply before he began crawling along. His movements heightened their laughter, seeing him wiggle through, but it only made Dream more determined to pursue the journey. 

“Oh yeah, you have such a fat ass, Dream! Throw it back for me, baddie!” Sapnap yelled after him, his giggles interrupting the sentence a few times. 

George and Sapnap’s antics were long gone, and all Dream could hear was the squeaking of an elevator and the creaking of the metal beneath him. He had memorised the layout of the ducts in his head and decided that this was the spot to drop down into.  

The first basement looked usual,  with a boiler in the corner and some filing cabinets lining the walls. Dream dropped from the ceiling with no sound, moving silently towards the elevator in the opposing corner of the large room. The sound of shoes slapping the hard ground paused Dream’s movements before he moved quickly behind a cabinet. 

“—He said not to go down there, Tubbo. What do you think he’s hiding?” 

Dream furrowed his eyebrows, were those kids? He adjusted his mark slightly before he peeked around the corner of the filing cabinet. Sure enough, Dream saw two teenage boys, one significantly taller than the other. But nonetheless, they were definitely very young. Why did Schlatt hire two British kids to guard his secret underground prison? Dream shook his head, glancing down at the floor as he crept out of his hiding spot. 

“Oi!” He heard. Dream looked up, seeing the taller boy stalk towards him. The blonde boy stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening as he looked back at the other boy. 

“Tubbo, do you know who this is?” The blonde asked in disbelief. The shorter one nodded, his expression lifting at the sight of Dream. Their jaws dropped as Dream exhaled deeply. 

“Dream? As in the Dream Team? As in Techno Industries?” Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask. He didn’t respond as the two boys inched closer to him. 

“Listen, I’ll give you a few bucks if you don’t mention this to Schlatt, got it?” Dream growled, shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling out a few hundred-dollar bills. The boys’ eyes shone, the shorter one reaching forward to accept the bribe before the blonde pushed him back. 

“That’s all? I was expecting at least a grand each from THE Dream.” He smirked. Dream remained expressionless and went to decline before the blonde continued. “It’s a grand each or I tell Schlatt you were snooping around his casino.” 

Dream shook his head and pulled another $600 from his pocket and shoved it into their hands, “Now shut the fuck up, or I’ll do it myself.” 

The taller one went to reply, but the other one pulled on his sleeve and shook his head. He rolled his eyes and mumbled a string of curse words before turning and stomping away. The other boy muttered a quick ‘thank you’ with a small smile on his face and hurried off in the direction of the staircase that went up to the casino’s main floor. Dream guessed that the fire had been taken care of by the way they fled carelessly up the stairs. 

Dream sighed and trod over to the elevator. He pressed the arrow to go down and groaned when the scanner next to it blinked red. 

He scrunched up his face when he glanced back towards the air duct. The only other option was to try and get down the air duct and into the rafters in the basement below. 

Dream had the urge to throw a temper tantrum at Sapnap’s shitty planning. He pulled himself back up into the duct and crawled towards the wall where the elevator was. Reaching a sharp drop, Dream looked over the edge, his eyes widening at the height. He grunted as he positioned himself above the fall; all he had to do was slide down. 

He could hardly see the bottom, but he knew if he slid down as planned, he would go straight through. So, instead, Dream slowly moved his arms and legs into the small space and gradually let himself down, inching closer to the bottom with every move.  

Sweat dripped down his temple, and his muscles ached as he went, his palms becoming slippery against the smooth and thin metal. He held his breath as he reached the bottom, scared any sound he made would attract unwanted attention from whoever could be in the vicinity.  

He let out a quiet, steady breath, and he returned to his hands and knees in the horizontal air duct. His original plan was irrelevant, so he didn’t know the map of the air ducts in the second basement, leaving him guessing. 

Once he thought the spot was right, he harshly pushed on a panel of the duct below him, hearing it clatter on the concrete as it hit the ground. He cringed at the sound and slowly lowered himself onto the beams that were directly below him. How convenient. 

The sharp sound of the panel dropping had caught the attention of several guards. On this level, there were actual security guards with weapons and not lippy teenagers. Dream made eye contact with one of them, scolding himself when the man scrambled for his walkie talkie as he spotted Dream on the beams above. 

Dream rolled his eyes and dropped from the ceiling, crouching as he landed before standing up. He brought his pointer finger to his lips before bringing his fist to his neck and dragging his thumb across the skin. The action itself made the security guard’s eyes widen and freeze his movements. Dream’s sadistic smile and seemingly wild nature made the guard move backwards into the wall as he passed. 

He went around another corner and was met with an entirely different area he wasn’t expecting. But, Dream was sure he was going to succeed in finding Y/n and escaping as soon as possible. And of course, the echo of a sinister whistle made him freeze. Fuck.

“Dream! Hey, buddy, how’s it going?” As Schlatt rounded the corner, a smirk spread across his smug face, Dream squeezed his eyes shut. 

“A little friend of mine told me you were here! Just thought I’d come and say hi,” He chuckled as Dream cracked his knuckles. Damn kids.

“Schlatt, where’s Y/n?” Dream demanded, cracking his neck when he jerked his head to the side. 

“Now, that’s not a nice way to greet a friend, is it, Dream?” 

Dream’s eyes widened behind his mask. He stood stunned, no words coming from his mouth. 

“Dream, she’s not yours. She never has been. So why do you think you have to save her?” Dream’s expression remained the same as Schlatt continued, “You’re too pussy to even ask her out, let alone be her boyfriend.” It was a ridiculous argument, Schlatt knew that, but he was positive he was going to get a rise out of Dream this way. 

He sneered at Dream’s silence, the deep rumble of his cackle rattling Dream’s bones. Suddenly, a scream added to the ominous atmosphere that Schlatt had created, and Dream jumped into action, launching himself at the older man. 

“Where is she?” His voice became raspy as he threw a punch at Schlatt’s temple. Schlatt growled at the attempt and hurled his arm back at Dream. He dodged it, barely, but stepped back and rushed towards the cell Y/n was in. 

“Y/n?” He shouted, ducking and searching for the girl through the bars of the numerous cells that lined the basement. 

“Here.” 

The sound of her broken voice snapped Dream into action. Sprinting down the hallway, he was met with Y/n’s grubby and exhausted body. His heart broke at the sight of her, and he gripped the bars, pulling and pushing them in an attempt to break them. 

Dream was so caught up in getting Y/n out, he didn’t notice Schlatt coming from his left. 

The impact of a fist colliding with his temple sent Dream stumbling to the right, his mask cracking slightly in the corner at the force. He grunted in pain before spinning to meet Schlatt again, who had his arm raised in its previous position. Dream tried to shake his head from his dazed state, the unexpected hit stunning his consciousness. 

Schlatt aimed once again and swung his fist to hit Dream in the face. But, Dream saw it coming and swivelled to the left to dodge the incoming punch. Schlatt let out a guttural sound, growing frustrated with his miss. The hit to his temple left Dream seeing stars; however, he managed to duck and strike Schlatt in his stomach, earning a deep groan. The older man recovered quickly, picking himself back up to his full height as he mumbled, “bastard.” 

Dream was losing shamefully, lazily avoiding punches and swaying lightly as Schlatt grinned at his anticipated win. 

Whilst Dream stumbled slightly, Schlatt snickered, his fist coming across to hit him again. This time, the punch followed through and cracked his ceramic mask fully, the object dropping to the ground and shattering on impact. Schlatt barked out a laugh as he watched the pieces scatter.  

“And here we have, the real Dream! You know, you’re not what I expected. Definitely uglier.” He cackled, doubling over in laughter as Dream watched. He blinked and was void of any emotion as Schlatt stood back up. 

“What? Can’t take a joke?” Dream clenched his jaw, and he lunged forwards, his hands coming to grip onto Schlatt’s shoulders and bringing his knee up to jab him in his stomach. He groaned out in pain as he doubled over, yet again, but this time not in joy. 

The back of Dream’s belt that held his handgun was screaming at him. So, reaching behind him, Dream revealed his firearm. The weapon had wiped Schlatt’s smug look off of his face, replacing it with one of fear. His expression mocked Dream, although he didn’t catch onto Schlatt’s taunting. 

“Dream, listen, buddy—” 

“Shut the fuck up, Schlatt.”

But, Dream’s face contorted to something of confusion and horror when Schlatt started chuckling. He pulled the side of his suit jacket to the side to reveal a similar Glock, making Dream freeze his once confident motions. 

“You see, I’m always 3 steps ahead of you, Dream,” Schlatt tormented, pulling the gun from its secure place in his jacket.  

“You’re fucked now.” Dream went to lunge at him again, but Schlatt stepped to the side and pushed him down.

Dream’s gun went sliding across the polished concrete and out of his reach. The blonde swore as he saw Schlatt stumbling towards his fallen body. He lifted himself off of the ground, panting heavily as he ducked another punch from the older man. Dream stepped back, balancing his weight on his right foot, and threw his fist out towards Schlatt’s cheek. The punch landed, and Schlatt staggered backwards slightly, blood dripping from his lips as he grinned. 

“I see how it’s gonna be,” He lifted his arm and aimed the gun towards Y/n, who stood in the cell behind him. Dream leaned to the side to catch Y/n’s pained gaze. 

“Please,” Dream’s strained voice was barely audible through Schlatt’s booming psychotic laughter. Clenching his fists, Dream glared at him, “Don’t do this, Schlatt.” 

“Oh, Dream, I could do this all day!—” A flat crack bounced off the concrete room and was soon followed by a heavy thud. Dream swallowed in shock as he watched deep red blood spill across the floor, oozing out of the fresh wound. He was frozen in his spot as he watched the body twitch and then loll, unmoving. 

“Dream?” Dream’s eyes flickered from Schlatt’s body to Y/n, who stood with his gun loosely in her hand. 

“Y/n?” His voice was weak as he struggled to stand. The clatter of the gun dropping on the hard surface didn’t come close to silence the thoughts running through his head.  

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m okay, I’m here. Dream?” Y/n cried, wrapping her arms around Dream’s stiff body. His hand came up to feel the wetness on his cheeks, and he pulled it away, seeing red smeared on his fingers. 

“He’s gone?” He whispered, earning a nod from Y/n, “It’s okay.”

“No, I know. It just shocked me, that’s all. I thought he killed you.” 

Y/n sighed, tightening her grip on him, pressing her face into his shoulder, “I’m right here, see. I’m not hurt, I’m fine, with you.”  

Dream turned his head towards her, an unsure expression on his face as he threw his arms around her. 

“Fuck, I thought—” 

“Dream. Deep breaths.” He nodded, following Y/n’s motions in breathing evenly. 

“Jesus, usually you’re the one helping me calm down from something like this,” Y/n giggled, her hand coming to run her fingers through his hair, not minding the dampness of drying blood. A smile broke out on Dream’s face before he noticed Y/n’s eyes widen and her head fly to the side to search for something. 

“What’s wrong?” Dream asked, seeing Y/n’s eyebrows crease, “Your mask.” She whispered, spotting the shattered ceramic feet away from where they sat. 

Dream breathed out a laugh, bringing her face back towards his, “My mask is the least of my worries right now.” 

“I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.” 

“Of course, you will.” 

“Y/n!” Sapnap yelled, running towards the girl as she pushed open the security office door. Y/n locked her arms around Sapnap’s shoulders as they embraced, the pair giggling in disbelief. 

“How have you guys not been kicked out yet? The fire’s out.” Dream said, closing the door behind them. George shrugged, “Paid ‘em off.” Dream snorted in response.

When Y/n pulled away from Spanap, she hugged George, who was eagerly waiting behind them. 

“Don’t do that ever again. You left me with two dumbasses for so long,” George mumbled. Y/n felt tears fill her eyes as she squeezed George tighter, “I missed you guys so much.”

And after a teary reunion, the group sat around the desk in the middle of the room. 

“Where’s the big man himself?” Sapnap nervously laughed, dread ate at his conscience at the thought of Schlatt coming after them again. 

“Schlatt’s dead.” The news had George raising his eyebrows and pushing his head forward, “Huh? Sorry? What?” 

“He’s dead, Y/n killed him.” Dream stated, earning a small smile from Sapnap that Y/n laughed at. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. Sapnap’s reaction made me giggle.” 

The group shared a collective rumble of laughter before Dream suggested they went back to the motel. 

“Hey,” Dream whispered at Y/n when she passed him, gently grasping her elbow. “You guys go ahead, I just need to speak with Y/n,” He continued, waving the boys in the direction of the car. George and Sapnap shared a knowing look and tried their best to conceal their cheeky smiles. 

“What’s up with them?” Y/n asked, throwing her thumb over her shoulder at the boys. Dream shook his head slightly, “No clue.” 

“Anyway, I just wanted to ask how you are. You know, after everything.”

Y/n nodded, “I’m okay, I think. I don’t think anything’s really hit me yet.” Dream sighed in response. 

Y/n sucked her lips between her teeth, throwing her arms around Dream’s neck in a hug. He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

“Thank you,” She whispered in his ear, her voice cracking with emotion. Dream’s heart clenched at the sound and tightened his grip around her. 

“You don’t have to thank me, baby. I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, you know that,” He murmured, hiding his reddening face in her neck. He flushed, even more, when he felt her lips against his neck, “I love you, so much, Dream.” 

Dream’s heart skipped a beat before he pulled his head from her neck. His green eyes looked into hers, the closeness of them making Y/n inhale sharply. 

“And I love you. Don’t forget that, okay?” He replied, his voice low. Y/n nodded shortly, inching her lips up to his. 

“Kiss me.” She muttered, nudging his nose with hers. Dream laughed breathy before leaning down and brushing his lips against hers. 

Their bodies had become flushed against one another, her hips against his as they shared a heated kiss. Dream pulled away first, his cheeks pink and his lips plump. Y/n whined silently, bouncing in her heels at the loss of his lips. 

Dream smiled widely at her, “I guess I want you more than I thought I did.” Y/n gasped, taking her hand from his neck to slap his chest, giggling like a schoolgirl at his teasing. 

“Shut up, you’ve wanted me since you met me,” She said to which Dream nodded. 

“You got that right, baby.” 

Feedback is greatly appreciated, always xoxo