#please blow this up id be so honored

[lununnunna]

i tried my hand at an expression meme, i hope yall like it <33

[wherenymphsroam]

don’t say it’s unholy, if I let you come hold me (pt 1)

⟡ -- leon finds you drowning your grief in the back of a bar just outside of town. but don't worry, he won't blow your cover.

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: themes of coping with grief and depression, implied underage drinking and unhealthy coping mechanisms, vendetta leon, leon is just a wee bit morally grey here just due to the point in his life this is staged during, no sex but explicit language, leon is readers dad's coworker/friend, angst - eventual sex

a/n: okay, I've been sitting on this baby for a hot minute just because of how self indulgent it is iaqhdsiuwsjih. I wanted to make this longer before I released it, but I think I'm going to just continue this in parts (and even then, don't hold me to that lol judgwiuhd !!). again, please heed warnings, and if you are uncomfortable with any themes presented, please just don't read!

playlist: unholy (hey violet), disconnect (she wants revenge), discipline (nine inch nails), paralyzer (finger eleven)

You shouldn’t be here.

By all legal and ethical means, morality aside, you should be at the library, studying for a final you know damn well you won’t be passing. Or better yet, at home. Maybe poured over a mug of tea, that blend your mom has made you since you were a kid. Some shitty romcom playing in the background, ignored as you doze off surrounded by papers, scattered around the dining table like any other honorable, dutiful college student. Not some… dingy, shithole bar outside the parameters of your hometown.

(One you know your dad doesn’t frequent with colleagues. One you know is just outside the radius of people that would see you here, know you enough to know you shouldn’t be here.)

Maybe you would be back home right now, studying until you felt like your brain was going to melt out of your ears, if not for what happened. The “would’ve” “could’ve” and “should’ve”s are stacked high in your brain, like a mountain of now unattainable possibilities laid bare, slain by the events of recent nights. Something so chilling, so bone shattering and brain dissolving you just can’t manage to wrap your head around it. 

‘Shock’, right? 

That was the operative term for the numbness that has recently buzzed dully in your limbs, the heaviness of your own weight whenever you roll out of bed every day. The term itself is thrown around so flippantly, so easily outside the walls of a hospital, a clinic. General medical common knowledge be damned, everyone knows what shock is.

'Shock' is being betrayed by your child who marries someone of the same gender, rendering you and your paper thin beliefs meaningless. Generations passed down worth of indoctrination gone moot by one, unholy union. It’s coming home and finding your husband in bed with another woman, that blonde bitch at his front desk. The one he told you not to worry about? Yeah, that one. 

It’s the unspeakable, the unimaginable striking. It’s blinding, horrid in how it leaves you.. Empty. You’re compelled to apologize for its effects on your nervous system.

Sorry guys, I promise I’m sad. I know I don’t look it, I’m taking it out on all this- shit lying around. I’ve been meaning to throw this out for ages you know. Guess I finally have a reason now, huh? No, I don’t know how much sleep I’ve gotten the past week, it’s probably fine. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. That’ll make me feel worse. Now, if you would, let me go finish my manic episode in peace, will you-?

Could you blame this too as to why you finally dug out that fake ID your friends coerced you into agreeing to?

This wasn’t like you, not one bit. I mean, really, sitting in the back of some gnarly bar, surrounded with the sorts of people Daddy always warned you about? The sorts of people that only came out after dark, that hung around till dawn when they would then go back to dwell in whatever crevice of the city they called home until dusk? Maybe this was moms genes catching up with you – the predisposed ones you always knew would come to bite you in the ass. Maybe you should go check your eyes, don’t people's pupils dilate when they’re manic? “Crazy eyes'' those people on Tiktok would call them, right? 

“Unwidin’, huh?”

His voice calls through the air between you like he might’ve well been standing yards away. It takes you a moment longer than maybe appropriate to track his distance, his place at your side at the bartop. Glancing over, you first get a look at his hand, gesturing to the drink in front of you, the cigarette dangling between your fingers. The one that was currently beginning to slip in your weakened grip, speaking of. 

They’re long, nimble. Broad hands, worn at the tips, smooth along the meat of his palms. Even under the hazy atmosphere surrounding you, you can make out the glint of the watch up his sleeve – probably expensive, if the quality of the leather of his jacket sleeve has anything to say about it. Look at you. Even buzzed like this, you were spotting the finer details. A daddy’s girl with daddy’s tolerance.

Despite yourself, you nod numbly, head heavy on the bracket of your neck. A sign directly arguing with the idea of your tolerance – or rather, lack thereof – but it can't be as noticeable as your brain is attempting to trick you into believing, right?

Leon settles into the stool next to you, and you don’t so much as cast him a proper glance. Maybe that’s why he finds himself sitting down. You looked out of place, like a damn kicked puppy with your head drowning in a few shots worth in the back of this bar. It was a wonder no one else had approached you up till this point, especially given the time of night. It was hard not to feel like your guardian angel. 

“We both know this ain’t the healthiest way to do it.” He says as he flags the bartender down.

Touche, mystery man. 

Well, alright. Technically you knew the guy. You vaguely recognized him as one of Dad’s colleagues through the haze of your buzz. It was too sweet to interrupt, you find yourself completely unfazed in the face of the inevitable consequences that would come from your fathers colleague finding you here.

If anything, you couldn’t complain.

His voice was nice. Beyond “nice” actually. If you were any more wasted, you’d take him for a certain type of actor. More specifically, the ones you listen to late at night. The ones that speak to you behind pseudonyms and expensive microphones, nestled into crevices of the internet any mentally stable person wouldn’t dream of wandering into.  

You know better than to entertain that thought for more than a few seconds, even despite the dregs of nicotine floating through your blood coaxing you towards such a mental image. 

Finally, you brave a glance over your shoulder at him. He’s pretty. Real pretty. How are you only just noticing how sharp his eyes are? They look darker under this bar's lighting, that typically professional, almost playful glint in his gaze nowhere to be found. It had been a few years since you’d last seen him… maybe it was age finally starting to jade him.

Not that you knew the specifics. He was easily older than you by a decade and some change. And clearly all too happy to bypass all niceties in this situation. Damn. Did you look that bad? He was pretty enough to be an angel, but that didn’t mean he had to act like one. Maybe he felt bad for you. Maybe he had a better head sitting on his shoulders than a better half of the people in here. 

A huff of soft breath leaves through your nose, tendrils of smoke swirling out of your system with the action. Shaking your head, you dip it, taking another long drag from your quickly burning cigarette, an excuse to try and string together some sort of response that won’t make an ass out of you. Or actually, anything that didn’t scream “you’re hot and I don’t know how to conduct myself around good natured, attractive men” would do just fine. Those damn eyes of his… it was a mistake, letting your gazes lock. His eyes alone were enough to make your stomach flip. 

“Well,” you mutter, not daring to look back at him. “This is better than my plan b for the night.” 

You don’t so much as flinch when the bartender comes over, taking an order he murmurs in a tone you want spoken against the shell of your ear from behind. Your periphery catches the actions of the bartender pouring his order into a short glass, bronze in color.

Whiskey. Of course.

Reaching for the middle of the table, you stub your cigarette in a conveniently placed ashtray. Sure, you were a little fucked up in a way you’ve never been before tonight, but you had manners. 

Meanwhile, Leon is doing what he does best. Observing. He tries his best not to make it obvious how he watches your hand wobbles when you lift it. He watched the subtle change in your expression when he called to you, how your head bobbed when he sat down. Anyone else would be paying attention to how quickly you recoiled with the action, as if self conscious of your dragged reaction time. However, he had spotted the tension in your slouched shoulders. A reaction rooted in self preservation, a fear of judgment. It was enough to tell him just how many shots you probably had in your system. 

He was no stranger to girls like you, ‘situations’ such as the one he was currently sitting next to.

It was a familiar, cliche dance – the unspoken, drowning struggles of a near stranger on display, insecurities risen to the surface like hemorrhaged blood under thinned skin. It was written all over you. You were scrappy, worn paper, and he was the storm settling overhead. Baring your weariness and struggle and strife to his blind eye, painting you transparent. He could see right through you. You were running from something. Likely attempting to drown, bury it somewhere deep if not for just a night or so. 

“‘Plan B’?” he questions, tone calm, even almost lighthearted. It betrays his sharp gaze, perceptive and on guard as ever. As if he were approaching an injured doe in the wild. Not that he’s done much hunting lately. He’s found that meat off the streets bleeds more freely than the skin of doe’s and rabbits does in present times. 

A wry smile tugs at your lips, almost as if you figured he’d press the topic. It was already too much to ask that he didn’t mention your connection to his coworker, how Leon knew you were definitely not supposed to be somewhere like this, and he had managed to uphold that silent prayer.

Maybe your otherwise handicapped condition was blurring whatever lines that stood between you right now, the lines that constructed what he should be doing, finding you here without a legitimate ID.  He should be outing you to the bartender, dragging you out of this place by the scruff of your neck with your dad dialed into his phone.

He shouldn’t be… entertaining you, right? Could you go so far as to call his complacent presence.. Encouragement?

Taking a seat beside you, joining you in your mission to drown your ache, your pain. Keeping you calm under his gaze, as if a sedative rolled off him in gentle waves. His throat bobs around his sip of whiskey, and you can’t help how your gaze lingers on the action. 

“Plan B consisted of finding someone to fuck me into next week,” you mutter dryly, as if the admission of your half hearted ‘plans’ for tonight left a sour taste in even your mouth. It wasn’t who you were. This wasn’t what you did. For fucks sake, you weren’t even supposed to have gotten this far, knee deep in an actively self destructive decision. But life sure did have one hell of a way of knocking you one hundred eighty degrees in the other direction, didn’t it?

No. That’s an excuse. A shitty one, at that. It's an excuse you've heard your dad mutter under his breath when he slouches into the couch with a beer in hand.

This is a poor choice, and you knew this was a poor choice. And yet, that didn’t stop you from walking your happy ass into this bar, nose up and full of talked up confidence you poured into yourself in the parking lot. No amount of tugging and pulling and pleading your guilty conscience did on your brain would stop you, not this time. You knew that getting into an Uber to haul you outside the lines of town would seal your fate to the whims of this bar. How classy. 

If Leon was a worse man, he’d take your words at face value. (Or maybe he’s just damned with all that thorough training he’s been rung through. It’s practically impossible not to read people nowadays. Even alcohol has ceased to debilitate him of this begrudgingly equipped set of skills that was all but pummeled into him.) 

His gaze wavers. Flickers, almost with a wash of amusement for a moment. You were trying oh so hard, taking that clipped, short tone with him, all but puffing your chest with this aura of  mental toughness you likely wanted to think you had. It was cute, really. But oh, the lacing of desperation in your tone... The sweet vulnerability in your breath… every hairline fracture your already cracking front is bleeding. 

He doesn’t have to be a bloodhound to want to dig for more. He just can’t help himself. 

thank you for reading! I have emergency commissions open, so if you enjoyed this piece, please consider taking a look at my menu or rb’ing :^)

[dflogerzi]

I must have lost my mind... my comprehension... or priorities.

I am truly reeling. Fully, and by all sides of the arguments over a photo. There has not been so much of a bruhaha since the hordes of humanity were storming stores in search of toilet paper. It truly is blowing my mind.

Okay trying this again after once before as a Reblog to another today. But I have a few things to say and then I am going to leave this lay. I have NO idea if this will be long or short. But I am dang well hoping I feel better afterwards.

So there I was this afternoon, early, the phone rings. And it is my daughter-in-law whom has not called me since the second week of November. I see her name on the caller id, take a deep breath, and... she wants to talk about Catherine. What???? How about home, hearth, family, and the state of relationships? But okay. I went with it.

I am going to start this, what I hope is a mini-vent off with what I think of the photo submitted first. There is NO doubt it was a huge blunder. The week proceeding was already a fire storm demanding proof of life, relationship, and just about everything else you could throw into the mess. This was no time to release anything touched up whatsoever, and even for myself who loves and supports this wonderful person... the lack of wearing at the least her wedding band was just not a good look to send out worldwide. I do not care WHEN she wears or does not her dang rings privately. But now was not the time. I do believe she had good intentions and was just being naive. But she has been around the block for over two decades and firmly involved and in the trenches to what amounts to a modern-day War of the Roses.

Someone did not have her back.

Now to my main points, real concerns, and what are the TRUE problems, according to just little me, sitting in my cheap director's chair and calling out the scenes currently playing on the world stage.

People. This is going to pass. This is just the latest in the drama and the saga since Meghan Markle hit the royal family. The real danger from my view is not the photo or Catherine's intentions. The escalation and apparent hysteria of what could be real danger is truthfully what is my focus. When news agencies are checking the place of origin, metadata, timestamps, editing, and making judgements on integrity and the future of the monarchy based on a simple photo for Mother's Day... we have a HUGE issue. It is now far past time for the Wales family to be better secured, the British government to step in and take care of the obvious dangers that are growing exponentially, and priorities addressed as to the future.

I am FAR more concerned about William and his family at this point being safe, secure in where they are living, and the future of each of them an absolute priority. It is time for all involved with their protection and well-being to deal with what is so obviously happening. And I feel for William who most likely has the world, literally, on his shoulders. But it is for him to take the first stand.

This is not about a photo. This is a shot over the bow on the global stage.

Catherine dearest. Just heal please. Take care of you first. I will continue to keep you close in thought. You have given everything in honor, love, and duty for over 20 years. You take the time you need.

Going to publish this bad attempt at writing I suppose. Hope the madness ends soon. And I do not mean about a simple picture meant as a greeting to Mother's around the world...

[begaydodrughailsaten]

Every time a new ep comes out i always post a hundred things as i listen to it so this time im gonna put them all in 1 large post :)

(Teen facts)

JIMMY MY BELOVED!!!

Taylors SO stupid god I love him so much

Mat stop stalling

brunch boy is my new favorite gay slur/j

Will is being milked

FREDDIE ACCIDENTALLY DOING THE PORNHUB INTRO

JODIE NOOOO WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS HE GETS WORSE EVERY EPISODE

"THIS PAGE IS A LITTLE STICKY" JIMMY WHY

Anthony is a feminist 😌

I NEED THAT TEESHIRT HOLY SHIT I LOVE THAT

(Ep start)

LINK IS FUCKING 12?? WHAT LINK 14?? EXUSE ME MAT LINK IS 16

Poor norm😢

LINK MY BABY BOY

LINK THANK FUCK FOR LOVE THEN FEAR HELL YEAH!!

Why are they talking about cum so much this ep?

SCARY MY POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU I WILL NEVER HATE YOU

Taylor i love you but please shut up

Armless loser nick

Funky buttloven???

Nick screen time??? 👀👀

i NEED to give norm a hug or i will explode

LINK MY SWEET BABY BOY SJFBAUFKANFIABDU

HEROS THE FUCKING CHOSEN ONE OMFG NORMAL MY POOR BABY BOY LET ME FUCKING HOLD HIM PLEASE

HOLY SHIT LINK

Hermie my boy hes back<3

OH NO HES UPSETTY SPAGHETTI

NATTY 1 NORM NO

"As a family"👀

god the close foster swfit unworthy family are all so cringe fail omg

your honor they are brothers (jodie and glenn)

LINK!!!

This podcast is the 3 saddest teens ever and Taylor

FUCK YEAH KICK JODIE IN THE NUTS link derives to go ape shit <3

Jodie shut the fuck uppppp

NICKY!!!

Damn jodie thats mean

MORGAN MY BELOVED!!!

LMFAO GLENN AND JODIE

Id listen to a entire podcast of just glenn and jodie being dumbasses

HERMIE KNOWS HOW TO GET TO THE GOOF RELME??? I WANNA GO TO THE GOOFS!!!

God nick is hot (i remember that he has horns)

I HATE jodie /pos

Jodie is such a shit dad omfg

Poor hermie:,( hes angy poor baby

Holy shit Rebecca is a badass

IS HERO WITH WILLY??

"Your dads" ?? Rebecca??

Rebecca the conspiracy theories my beloved <333

"Your gonna go to the bathroom by yourself?" Link what???

Link doesn't wash his hands?

Link what are you talking about

Hell yeah willys blood<3

HE HAS NICKS HAND? FUCK YOU

Honk shoo honk shoo

Link ik your in the right but without an explanation its kinda creepy man

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU WILLY FUCK YOU

NO SCARY HES NOT LETTING YOU TALK TO THE DOODLER BECAUSE HE TRUSTS YOU ITS BECAUSE HES TOO SCARD TO DO IT

WILLY YOU MOTHERFUCKER LEAVE MY GIRL ALONE SCARY NO PLEASE IM SORRY I LOVE YOU PLEASE SCARY I LOVE YOU

Pissfoot gumtoucher i love you <3

HERMIE ALSO KNOWS HOW TO GET TO GOOFS ASK HIM PLEASE

SCARY SHUT UP DONT TALK SHIT ABOUT MY SWEET BABY BOY LINCOLN

Loving Link and Scary is so hard i love them both so much

WOMEN CAN VOTE

SCARY MY POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW NOOOO

NICKY!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH NICKY MY BELOVED!!

Normal making the guy whos ON FIRE go to the most burnabul room ever

Taylor has his body back<3

Awww father son bonding<333

NICK WHAT THE FUCK NO WE ARE NOT KILLING SCARY WHAT THE FUCK NO SHES ONLY A KID

Are we going to goofs??? PLEASEEEEE I WANNA GO TO GOOFS IM BEGGING YOU!!!

ARE WE TRAPPING SCARY ON THE ISS?? PLEASE THIS IS SO FUNNY

Ewww norm thats grossss

PISS BOY PISS BOY PISS BOY PISS BOY

"Im glad you went to the bathroom, i pissed myself" link is everything to me

HES ONLY IN A SHIRT NOW

Link is SO CRINGE FAIL I LOVE him!!

"You wanna blow this popsicles salesmen?" Nick what??

NICK WHAT??

Nick keeps losing more body parts every ep

WAIT IS NICK ALIVE?? IS NICK FUCKING DEAD??

NOOOOO I LOVE SCARY AND LINK SO MUCH STOP FIGHTINGGGGG

[mobtism]

ID: A reddit post in the subreddit "unpopular opinion" by user "NoahTheLevel" that reads:

Having to call a judge "your honor" is so cringey and dumb

"Your Honor*. I mean gimmie a fuckin' break, dude. What else do you want me to call you? Your highness? Do you want me to fondle your nuts while I blow you, too?

I've seriously seen courtrooms where they'll say "Sir" and the judge will be like "It's "Your Honor" young man!!"

Fuck off. How much of an egotist you gotta be to care about some medieval-ass title? Use "Sir" like everybody else.

It's some LARPING I'd expect kids to do. "Oh Billy you have to call me supreme ruler snorlax the magical wizard!!1!"

Shut up.

EDIT: I'm literally 22 and have never been in front of a judge, y'all, please relax and slow down with the theory crafting/ story writing.

EDIT 2: A lot of people are saying "it's just a title, like Doctor!". Judges have a title like "Doctor" it's called "Judge" - Doctors don't expect us to call them "Thy Healer" or some crap like that. End ID.

this is my all time favourite post I've ever seen on reddit everyone read it please

[nicomrade]

🎶✨️when you get this, put 5 songs you actually listen to, then publish. Send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨️

ooh let me find u the ones ive been obsessed with lately

Man Man - Loot My Body

Will your friends come along & say "Oh, I knew him before he was a puddle In hindsight I dig him this way In this format as a puddle"

the comedic timing on the 'as a puddle' running gag always tickles me, im not as big on the bridge but its fine. all the verses are genuinely so iconic to me. well, have you learned nothing at all?

Iyo Matsumoto - ラブ・ミー・テンダー [love me tender]

not going to quote lyrics cause i dont wanna type more katakana and the whole songs a banger honestly i love it a lot

Nine Inch Nails - SIN

Did you think I wouldn't recognize this compromise? Am I just too stupid to realize? Stale incense, old sweat And lies, lies, lies It comes down to this: Your kiss- Your fist-

i just did a the fragile relisten today but siiiighs the hold that SIN has on me is unreal... sorry mister fraggle.... it really DOES come down to this.

The Fratellis - Desperate Guy

Pleased to meet you, baby, I'm your fool!

im a huge fan of a lot of tracks off this album- the sort of titular medusa in chains also has an incredible hold on me but desperate guy can get the spotlight today. possibly my favorite opener to a song. well, pleased to meet YOU !

Interpol - Something Changed

I waited through shame for this- Are you there? / I don't like these open endings- Are you there? I forgive you but there's no pretending- Are you there?

i cant do a music list without including interpol i think id blow up heres one out of the handful that i always have playing in my head

ok let me honorable mention JAWNY - Trigger of Love to break up the genres a bit thats all bye

[xbunny-k]

The Actor & I: PART ONE – First Day

This is part one of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022). It’s my first time writing fic, so apologies if it’s not the best!  In first person perspective! Character’s name is Anastasia (goes by Ana) and is starting a new job at Warner Brothers the same time Austin Butler is cast in Elvis! 

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts! 

Warnings: Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), mild language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy! xx

It’s the first day of my new job and I woke up late. Great…just great. Thankfully, I laid out my outfit late before going to sleep after going through hundreds of options. I have never showered, blow dried my hair, applied mascara, lotion, perfume, and blush and gotten dressed so quickly. I definitely put too much lotion on as I almost slip out of my shoes. Breathe Ana, breathe.

After I pour two travel iced coffees, I pack up my laptop and charger and look over my outfit in the mirror one last time. My fitted black skirt with my white button-down tucked in looks great along with some black heels and the various gold jewelry I always accessorize with. I’m pretty short right at five foot, but the outfit with my shoes has elongated my body the best I could hope for. Mentally going through my checklist, I definitely have everything I need for my first day. I grab my phone, purse and keys and head out the door.

As I’m driving and listening to a daily news podcast, I spot a flower vendor on the Burham exit outside of Burbank and stop to grab some flowers quickly. These would be a nice touch to the dull meeting room I know we’ll be in for most of the day.

As I pull into the gates of Warner Brothers, I immediately start to panic I may have pulled in the wrong entrance. I have my ID badge out ready to go…Anastasia van der Woodsen, Production Assistant, Warner Brothers Studios.  As the car ahead of me is driving through the gate, I stop at the security guard and shakingly hold up my badge to scan to open the gate. The security guard chuckles and asks, “First day?” I bashfully respond with a quiet, “Yes, sir.” He smiles and responds, “Don’t worry, it’s more intimidating to look at the studio lot than it is to be working in it. You’ll be fine.”  I breathe an immediate sigh of relief. Someone nice is what I needed. “Thank you….I needed that.” He tips his hat and signals me to drive forward. Now to just find the correct office on the lot…

I pull into the office outside of Stage 19 on the Warner Brothers lot, I immediately finish the second of the iced coffees I brought, grab my bags and exit my blue Ford Bronco. I double check the parking placard is hanging from my window before heading into the office. Once I walk in the office, I greet the receptionist and let her know I’m there for a 9 AM meeting for the new Baz Luhrmann project. She lets me know I’m the first to arrive and I can wait in the meeting room.

When I walk into the meeting room, I take the opportunity to freshen up the room a bit. I put the flowers in a vase from my car on the table. I know three executives from Warner Brothers are attending with Baz, so I set up four seats for them on one side of the table with water glasses, notepads and pens. As I’m setting up the other side of the table for the actor and his team, my new boss, Alison, appears with the head of Warner Brothers Studio, Toby Emmerich. I knew the meeting was important, but the president of the studio attending had me regretting my second iced coffee before 9 AM as my jitters went into overdrive.

“Anastasia, the room looks great. This is Toby Emmerich, the..” Alison starts and I immediately shake Toby’s outreached hand. “Mr. Emmerich, such an honor to meet you. I’m Ana, a PA under Alison.” Hoping I made a decent impression, I make eye contact with him, and his stern façade breaks and he smiles. “Wonderful to meet you, Ana. Excited to have you here from the start. These flowers are great, were they here when you arrived? Very nice touch.” I smile thinking job well done to myself and let them know I brought them and just wanted to lighten up the room a bit. I continue to set up the table for the actor’s team as more Warner Brothers executives arrive.

Baz, the director of the film I’ll be working on, makes his way into the room and I hide my excitement. Moulin Rouge! and Romeo + Juliet were very important movies to me growing up and I’m a bit starstruck seeing Baz in person. “Big day, big day,” Baz says as he looks out the window in the back of room before taking a seat at the table. Toby and another Warner Brothers exec begin talking to him about how excited they are to nail down the role of Elvis in their newest project, a biopic film about Elvis Presley.

I smile to myself excited this is going to be such an exciting film to be a part of. Baz Luhrmann? Filming in Australia? Tom Hanks? ...and me?? Sure, I’m just a production assistant so I’ll be running errands, following people around to give them water or just any random task needed, but being on the set of a huge film by a filmmaker I admire means so much to me. I’d do anything to be on a film set like this; I’m so lucky for this opportunity.

It also doesn’t hurt the lead actor being offered the role is pretty handsome. While he is not my type at all, you can’t deny he’s good looking. Austin Butler, who I have not really seen in much, is being brought into today to officially be offered the role of Elvis. After months of audition processes with various actors such as Harry Styles and Miles Teller, Baz and the studio were confident they officially found their Elvis in Austin Butler. While I was not working here during the audition process, I heard Austin’s initial audition tape sealed the deal. Just as I’m thinking about this, the door opens and in walks Austin with his team…and wow, pretty handsome was an understatement.

[kids-from-yesterday]

In honor of the Ides of March, here is my courtroom drama I wrote for my Roman History course last semester putting Marcus Brutus on trial for the murder of Julius Caesar.

The People of Rome v. Marcus Brutus

Judge: This is a criminal case brought by the people of Rome against Marcus Brutus for murder in the first degree.

Baliff: Will the jury please rise and raise your right hand. Indicate your agreement to the following statement by saying “I do”. Do you swear to affirm you will base your decision solely on the evidence presented in this case, not allowing any class loyalties, outside pressures, or personal biases to affect your final decision?

Jury: I do

Judge: Be seated. The burden of proof in this case is on the prosecutor to prove the defendant’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. The case will now proceed. Begin opening remarks.

Prosecutor: The defendant, Marcus Brutus admits that he stabbed Julius Caesar on March 15, 44 BC. The prosecution will be producing a corroborating witness to this act that was part of this conspiracy. The people will also be producing documents that Caesar received before he even set foot in the Senate detailing the conspiracy. We intend to prove to you beyond a reasonable doubt that Marcus Brutus’ act was not one of justifiable homicide as he is now claiming, but one of murder. Thank you.

Defense Attorney: My client, as he will later tell you on the stand, was simply defending the republic and the people that lived in it from a perceived threat. He felt threatened and as a result of that, banded together with other people who felt the same way in order to defend Rome. Now, none of those other people are on trial today, so why is my client the only one being charged? He allegedly landed the last blow. Over the course of this trial, I intend to prove that Marcus Brutus is not the only reason that Julius Caesar is dead and therefore is not guilty of his murder.

Judge: Prosecution, you may call your first witness.

Prosecutor: The People call Decimus Brutus Albinus to the stand.

Bailiff: Please rise. Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

Albinus: I do

Bailiff: You may be seated.

Prosecutor: Mr. Albinus, you were present in the room on March 15, 44 BC, correct?

Albinus: Yes I was.

Prosecutor: Can you please tell the jury what the nature of your relationship with the defendant is?

Albinus: I joined into a conspiracy with the defendant to murder Julius Caesar in the Senate on March 15, 44 BC , the ides of March. He was the leader. The plan worked so well because I had already gained Caser’s trust so he didn’t suspect anything. We had planned numerous different ways to kill Caesar before ultimately settling on stabbing him at the Senate meeting. My duty was to ensure that Caesar went to the Senate and didn’t put it off again or send someone else, like Antony. I often told him that he was “stirring up resentment among the senators” and made sure to discredit soothsayers as much as possible.

Prosecutor: People’s exhibit 1, Your Honor. This is a document given to Julius Caesar before he went to the Senate that day. It was unfurled. Can you please read the highlighted portion?

Albinus: “Caesar, beware of Brutus. Watch Cassius. Don’t go near Casca. Keep an eye on Cinna. Don’t trust Trebonius. Pay attention to Metellus Cimber. Decius Brutus doesn’t love you. You’ve wronged Caius Ligarius. These men all have one intention, and it’s directed against Caesar. If you aren’t immortal, watch those around you. A sense of security opens the door to conspiracy.”

Prosecutor: If Caesar were to have read this letter, what would result from that?

Defense Attorney: Objection, speculation.

Prosecutor: Withdrawn. One more question. What caused Caesar’s death?

Albinus: There were a lot of people stabbing Caesar but ultimately the defendant landed the final deadly blow. Caesar even said “Et tu,Brute” as his final words.

Defense Attorney: Objection, hearsay.

Judge: Overruled.

Prosecutor: Thank you, Your Honor. Mr. Albinus, can you please tell the jury what “Et tu Brute” means?

Albinus: It means “Even you Brutus”

Prosecutor: Thank you, the People rest.

Defense Attorney: Mr. Albinus, can you please tell the court what you are receiving in exchange for your testimony here today?

Albinus: I received a deal for immunity.

Defense Attorney: So seeing as you can never be charged for the murder of Julius Caesar, how is the jury to know that you are telling the truth here today?

Prosecutor: Objection, argumentative.

Judge: Sustained, the jury will disregard the last question.

Defense Attorney: Isn’t it correct that you weren’t in the room when the attack occurred, but were in fact engaged in conversation with Antony outside the Senate?

Prosecutor: Objection, unsubstantiated.

Judge: Overruled. You may answer

Albinus: *sigh* I was. But --

Defense Attorney: If you were engaged in conversation outside the Senate, how can you know that it was my client that landed the final blow or what his final words are? How are we to know that his final words weren’t in reference to you, Decimus Brutus Albinus, someone that he trusted.

Prosecutor: Objection - 

Defense Attorney: Withdrawn. No further questions. The defense calls Marcus Brutus to the stand. 

Bailiff: Please rise. Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

Brutus: I do.

Bailiff: Please be seated.

Defense Attorney: Mr. Brutus, thank you for agreeing to testify today. To start, I would like to clear up some statements made from the previous witness for the jury. Was Decimus Brutus Albinus in the Senate on March 15, 44 BC?

Brutus: No he was not. He was outside engaged in conversation with Antony. He had already fulfilled his obligation to get Caesar to the Senate and was carrying out the rest of his duty, because he was trusted. 

Defense Attorney: What was the reasoning behind the formation of this conspiracy?

Brutus: I felt that the Republic of Rome was being threatened by Caesar. He had been awarded the title dictator for life and people began putting crowns on his head and we weren’t very comfortable with this.

Defense Attorney: Could you clarify your last statement for the jury; what weren’t you comfortable with and who is “we”.

Brutus: “We” refers to the 60 or so senators disturbed by the direction that Caesar was heading. Rome’s last king before becoming a republic declared himself dictator and ousted senators that had dissenting opinions. He also added a lot of territory through what most people would consider unprovoked attacks.

Defense Attorney: Do you think that Julius Caesar’s campaigns were unprovoked?

Prosecutor: Objection, questions state of mind.

Judge: Sustained.

Defense Attorney: No further questions.

Prosecutor: Mr.Brutus, were the events on March 15, 44 BC planned?

Brutus: Some of them, but he --

Prosecutor: Julius Caesar is not on trial today, sir, you are. What exactly was planned? 

Brutus: Ensuring that Caesar made it to the Senate.

Prosecutor: Is that all? I’ll remind you that you are under oath.

Brutus: Yes

Prosecutor: So it’s a normal occurrence for senators to carry knives to the senate?

Defense Attorney: Objection, badgering.

Prosecutor: Withdrawn. What about all of the positive changes that Caesar instilled in the Republic, such as granting clemency whenever possible and enacting laws that benefited the common Romans? Were these a threat to the Republic?

Defense Attorney: Objection, prosecution just said Julius Caesar isn’t on trial.

Prosecutor: The witness opened the door when he said Julius Caesar was a threat to the Republic. I am asking what specifically made him a threat to the Republic.

Judge: I’ll allow, witness may answer.

Brutus: No, those weren’t a threat to the Republic. His new title made him a threat.

Prosecutor: So you only saw a threat in what he was being called and not in what he was doing?

Brutus: Yeah…

Prosecutor: People rest.

Defense Attorney: Defense rests.

Judge: You may start your closing arguments.

Prosecutor: Imagine you are at work when suddenly you are surrounded by your coworkers, they brandish knives, and they stab you 23 times. This is what happened on March 15, 44 BC to Julius Caesar. The defendant entered into a conspiracy, where he was a leader, with upwards of 60 people and knowingly planned to kill Julius Caesar. You have heard testimony that the conspirators not only planned to kill him, but they had a brainstorming session about where and when to do it. The defendant himself has even clarified that the only threat he perceived was Caesar’s new title. I implore the people of the jury to return a guilty verdict because with the evidence presented today, there is no doubt that there was intent to kill.

Defense Attorney: My client, Marcus Brutus, cares deeply for the Republic of Rome. When he perceived a threat to its existence that harkened back to historical accounts of Rome’s last king, he talked to other people who felt the same way. There were 60 senators involved in this conspiracy but my client is the only one on trial. He wasn’t the only conspirator, not even the only leader. You heard from another leader that received immunity in exchange for their testimony. What does that tell you?

Judge: The jury will now deliberate on the verdict.

Judge: Have you reached a verdict?

Jury: We have Your Honor. On the sole count of the indictment, murder in the first degree. We find the defendant, Marcus Brutus, guilty.

Judge: May I ask how you reached your verdict?

Jury: There was an overwhelming amount of intent. The defendant lied about what exactly was planned and the perceived threat was not enough to justify homicide.

Judge: Thank you.

[aciid-eater]

“Oh Tanjiro” Tanjiro Kamado x reader

Sweet. The air smelled so sweet. Which was uncharacteristic for a forest such as this. The smell was faint, but growing closer as they walked.

The trees swayed softly, the rustling leaves the only thing filling Zenitsu’s listening ears was he tip toed up the path. On the other side of Tanjiro, Inoske walking boastingly at his side. For just a bit, it was ordinarily unordinarily.

Then he heard it, a small voice.

Then suddenly a body wizzed past, a body with that same sweet smell. The group’s head’s turned with ferocity as the small body hit a tree with a hard oof. The red head’s eyes widened as he watched the frail girl cough up blood onto the ground. The side of her kimono was heavily stained with blood, and her arms were shakingly holding a shiny katana.

The girl slumped to the ground, clutching her side. Before she could even stagger to her feet, something large stomped into the clearing after her. Her eyes lifted, finally reaching those of the swordsmen across the path. Her pupils, what should have been filled with fear, were full of determination, and a feeling he couldn’t smell or place.

“You’re hurting.” The girl mumbled, picking her katana up and pointing at the beast’s neck.

“Your hurting, I know it.”

The demon didn’t reply. Only stalking towards her menacingly. Before either of the guys could jump in and guard her, she hopped up, still clutching her side.

“Crystal stitch” She mumbled, jumping upwards and flicking the blade of her katana narrowly towards the demon. It stumbled back a bit, hitting its back against a tree. But it was too late to dodge the quarts material that glued its fists to the ground.

“You’re a Demon, and I want to save you. May you and the souls you killed rest peacefully.” She mumbled, mid air as her katana found the slick flesh of the demon’s neck. The blow was quick an ultimately painless, but her decent to the ground was not.

The nimble girl fell to the forest floor, rolling over as she coughed harshly. Immediately Tanjiro was at her side, despite the protest of his companions. Kneeling down next to her, he held his hand to her wound, wincing as she hissed in pain.

“Stay with me, stay awake please.” He mumbled his tone just a bit desperate as he tried to stabilize her.

“I’m right here, I’m here...” she mumbled back, her vision bluring as her eyes glossed over. But before Tanjiro could give any more instructions, she was out cold.

___________

“Did you see here Tanjiro?! She was beautiful!!” Zenitsu exclaimed, holding a basket in shaking hands.

“Calm down, you’ll scare her.” Tanjiro smiled, stepping over a loose root. In his hand he held bundles of sewing thread. They were on the way back to the little area where they set up in the forest. They hadn’t been gone for long, but he didn’t want to leave the girl all by herself when she was so gravely injured.

“But she is cute right?!”

“Shut up. You’re annoying.” Inoske growled. Tanjiro’s reply was caught in his throat when he heard a soft voice among the trees.

“So he was cute? I knew he’d be.” It was her, they all could tell.

“He voice is so pretty!” Zenitsu whispered to himself, tugging on Tanjiro’s sleeve. Again the red head didn’t reply, he only began walking once again, ready to formally greet the girl he saved.

Just from around a bush, he emerged slowly. And suddenly his eyes were stuck in the deep pools of her own. She elegant, her kimono long gone, leaving only her under wrapping. There were small scars on her arms and her legs from what he could tell, but what really drew his attention was the large open wound on her side that had yet to heal. Just under her chin, there was a long white snake wrapped loosely around her neck and around her arms.

“Are you...?” Her delicate voice fell off.

“I-I’m Tanjiro Kamada, a swordsman like yourself.” He stated, getting down on his knees to level himself with her.

“Tanjiro.... my name is y/n l/n. I must thank you Tanjiro, you really saved my life.” She said, giving the sweetest smile. The smell of her greatfulness was not one he noticed often.

Y/n slowly reached her hand out toward his, the snake in her shoulders coiling down her arm and following. Tanjiro was hesitant for a moment.

“She won’t bite, this is my familiar, Nola.” Y/n introduced. With a curt nod, Tanjiro grabbed her hand, letting Nola slither up his arm and over his shoulders.

“She likes you.” Y/n giggled. Tanjiro smiled, letting his eyes trail down to the gash on her side.

“I should stich that up, so you can heal” he stated, pulling out his thread.

“Stitch? Like with a needle?” Y/n asked wearily.

“Of course, what else?” Y/n whimpered, her knees moving in for purchase at her chest.

“Are.... you afraid of needles?” It was her shy nod that made him melt. He nodded in return, turning his head as Zenitsu finally joined the two.

“Well I’ll tell you what, you can hold onto me while Zenitsu here stitches you up?” Tanjiro smiled.

“WHAT?? THATS NOT FAIR!! YOU ALWAYS CUDDLE YOURSELF UP WITH THE PRETTY—“ Zenitsu trailed off at the sight of y/n softly holding her ears.

“I’m Zenitsu!” He said suddenly, holding a hand out to her. She gingerly took it, shaking it gently.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Y/n” she mumbled.

“Can you stitch my wound please Zenitsu, id be lying if I said it didn’t hurt still.” The blonde all but fought back a large blush, a smile spreading on his face.

“I’d he honored to” he replied goofily. Y/n smiled greatfully, reaching out to grasp Tanjiro’s hand in her own.

The two watched as Nola slid from Tanjiro’s shoulders into y/n’s lap, setting there. And the snake didn’t move when y/n reached over to wrap her arms around his neck while Zenitsu rubbed some of the ointment over her gash.

“It’s okay, don’t over think it.” The red head mumbled, one of his large hands ran up and down her back. He could feel her breath hitch against his neck, making him run his free hand over the back of her neck.

When the needle hit her skin for the first time, she wimpered pitifully. The swordsman’s hands tightened around her, stroking her back as comfortingly as possible.

“You’re doing great, I’m so proud of you.” He mumbled in her ear, watching as Zenitsu finally closed the wound and cut the thread.

“You’re all done.” Zenitsu stated proudly.

“Thank you.” Y/n smiled greatfully. Her gaze drifted to the folding fabric at the boys’ sides.

“Is that my kimono?” She asked.

“Yep, I went and cleaned it for you y/n Chan!” Zenitsu yelled happily.

“Thank you, you’re very sweet.” She smiled.

[oikawaplssteponme]

Willow’s 800 Followers Event

before you order: hello!! words cannot even begin to describe how thankful i am for 800 of you! that is truly amazing and you all have a very special place in my heart! thank you for allowing me to be creative and share my writing, it means more than you know.

so for this event, you all will be doing the writing! you’ll be creating your perfect boba drink with as many (or as little) ingredients as you’d like! let’s check out the menu, shall we?

pick your base (fandom)

1.) milk tea

•this is a Haikyuu fic ! write about your favorite volleyball players !

2.) fruit tea

•this is a My Hero Academia fic ! write about your favorite students, teachers, pro heroes, or villains !

pick your flavor (prompt)

1.) strawberry

• keep things classic and write about a first date ! include something about the outdoors or nature. maybe you’re visiting a farmers market, going strawberry picking, or a sunset hike !

2.) mango

• a perfect tropical destination ! write about visiting the beach or a vacation with your chosen character ! make sure to pack some sunglasses !

3.) passion fruit

• be passionate ! write about a confession ! whether it’s a love confession at just the right time or one that changes everything...

4.) coconut

• just like the coconut shreds, shred our hearts with a breakup story ! it can start sweet and hit us with that tough flavor unexpectedly! or one that you know won’t have a happy ending

5.) green tea

• not feeling any of the flavors above? no worries ! write whatever you’d like ! be creative ! this unique flavor will be perfect for your unique writing !

6.) honeydew (can be paired with one of the flavors above)

•pick whatever AU you’d like ! high school AU, college AU, coffee shop AU, fantasy AU, you name it !

pick your boba (pairing)

1.) classic tapioca pearls

•this will be a character x reader fic ! you may choose any kind of reader you’d like (fem! , masc!, gender neutral!) it’s up to you !

2.) popping boba

•this will be an character x oc fic ! use one of your very own characters and create a story for them with a character of your chosen fandom !

3.) fruit jellies

•this will be a self ship fic ! now is your chance to write whatever self-indulgent work you’d like ! make your dreams come true !

*all pairings must be LEGAL

pick your size (genre)

1.) small

•fluff, fluff, fluff! keep us smiling from ear to ear with some tooth-rotting fluff !

2.) medium

•angst and nothing but angst! break our hearts into a million pieces. please, it would be an honor

3.) large

•your fic has room for everything ? no problem ! pick a variety of genres to make your drink so good that you can’t put it down !

now that you’ve created the perfect boba, you’ll need to check out!

before checking out:

•this event is SFW. many of my followers are minors so when i try (reblog) your drinks (fics), i dont want them to come across any NSFW content. however, suggestive themes are allowed (but you should know where to draw the line)

•please do not use these ingredients to create dark content for this event

•please give a description of your drink. that must include your ingredients from above (genre, prompt, fandom, pairing, etc.)

•please state any allergens that your drink could contain. you must include a ratings/warnings section on your fic

•general guidelines still apply (same with off limit characters) check them here

•make sure to grab two straws ! (please tag me @/oikawaplssteponme so i don’t miss them)

•also ask for a receipt ! (tag your delicious creations under the tag #willow’s boba shop.🌸)

•i will be making a signature menu of all your drinks ! (i will make a rec list of all your fics. if you would prefer to not be on that list, just let me know !)

check out:

•this event will last from April 3rd to April 30th

•there is no word count minimum or maximum :)) but if your fics are longer than 500 words, please add the :readmore: tab

•know someone who might like some boba as well? wonderful! anyone and everyone is welcome to stop by the shop and create something magical !

•please let me know if you are planning to participate either with a reblog+a comment or send an ask :))

•never tried boba before? no worries! this event is a perfect opportunity to try out writing. you don’t have to be amazing at writing, as long as you enjoy it and have an idea or two, it’s worth trying! you might even like it :))

•couldn’t decide between a milk tea and a fruit tea? or you wanted to try one of everything? go right ahead! feel free to make multiple drinks :)) do what makes you happy !!

final thoughts before leaving the shop:

•once again, thank you so so much for 800, it’s truly mind blowing

•im really excited for this event so please please participate! id hate for this to flop :((

•i can’t wait to try all your wonderful drinks <3 ! love you all and thank you again !

Once again, this event will last from April 3rd to April 30th

[justasparkwritings]

Peace: Would It Be Enough?

Previous: In Secret 

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Smut/ Angst / Slice of Life

Rating: NC17

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, P-V Sex, Consensual Sex, Making Love, Forgiveness, Redemption, Vaginal Fingering 

Summary: The morning after. 

Listening: peace by Taylor Swift 

Peace Master List

          There’s a moment when you first wake up when the weight of the world, the weight of the day, doesn’t overwhelm you. Your to-do list waits, your mind is slowly waking itself and remembering whatever nightmare you’ve left for yourself to deal with. But you know it’s coming. As you woke up that morning, that sinking feeling engulfed you before you opened your eyes. Jack Antonoff was right, but your dread wasn’t waiting by your bed, it was thriving within you.

          Rolling over, you checked the clock. 10AM on a Saturday is a fine time to wake up, but as you do, the flood of thoughts crashed over you. The dryness of your skin from the salty tears made you wince, and as you padded to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, you’re confronted with three realities, and leaning against your kitchen counter, you recount them to yourself.

·      First, you told him you couldn’t look at him anymore.

·      Second, he was verbally harassed last night, and you did nothing

·      Third, you’re not enough

·      You’re not enough to handle this

·      You’re not enough to be by his side

·      You’re just…

The third sent you reeling, but the second kept nagging at you like a mosquito bite in the middle of your back. It’s persistent itch slowly driving you mad.

           You walked yourself through the events of the night, through Jungkook’s response, through your own. You yelled, you fucking hated yelling, it had no place in your relationship… The guys had been there, they’d tried to ration… Jungkook tried to… But he didn’t… You didn’t … It’s all coming back, the bits and pieces of the hurt you hurled at him, your Jungkook, your love, the man you’d give every wild you had to… the father of your child… And here you were, sipping coffee, trying to organize your thoughts into something cohesive to make up or make sense of the hurt you hurled at him.

           You took to your phone to open Spotify and saw his plentiful texts, sent throughout the night… single lines of longing trying to reach you.

Jagi, I’m just checking in. I love you.

Baby, I hope you get some sleep. I love you.

I love you.

Our love isn’t for show… please

Love you, so much

           You stared, your thoughts being overwhelmed by the profound sadness you felt towards him, because of him. With tears in your eyes, you moved to your bathroom, hot water scalding your skin as it came cascading down around you.

           Jungkook awoke, but if he was honest, he didn’t really sleep. Wedged between a wall and Ho-Seok, having not planned to stay with the members at all, he found himself uncomfortable, his mind stuck on the image of you, telling him you couldn’t look at him. You, walking away from him, telling him not to follow you or talk to you. You… The texts he sent left unanswered. His pleas to you to talk to him, to say anything, to say that you loved him too… unreciprocated.

           He carefully climbed out of bed around 9AM, tiptoeing into the gym, trying to work out his frustration on the treadmill.

One mile.

Two miles.

Three miles.

          As he ran, he replayed the events in his head. He went to the bathroom, leaving you with a guard nearby and taking one with him. He came back and saw that man circling you, a vulture preying on a seemingly isolated fledgling. Jungkook approached, he watched the man attack, trying to get anything from you, and you, stunning in your skintight black jeans, moto jacket draping over your shoulders, studded booties protecting your feet… Jungkook tried to protect you. You, the object of his desires, you, your dazzling smile and friendly demeanor, a mere kill to that man. But the man wasn’t after you, he was after Jungkook. If one prey was left alone, the herd was nearby, and Jungkook was proof of that.His eyes became bugged as he watched Jungkook step in front of you, Jungkook, nearly six feet and pure muscle, shirt unbuttoned dangerously low, chest seemingly smooth. Jungkook, tattooed covered hand, rings absently adorning digits, undercut fresh, hair slightly pulled back, glowering over him.

          Jungkook was the vulture, and weak prey does what it can to escape the predator, it distracts and deflects.

          Jungkook wanted to be the threat, he wanted to use his height and physique as a way to protect you from that man. But what you hadn’t accounted for was the man’s mouth, his beliefs, his disgust that you would be dating someone so, Asian. It didn’t matter if Jungkook could beat the shit out of him, it didn’t matter that he could grind seeds in his palms or use his falsetto after dancing nonstop for three minutes. It didn’t matter, because in that moment, when the man realized that you belonged to Jungkook, his xenophobia and ignorance raged more powerfully than Jungkook’s fists ever could. Jungkook knew it, as the man’s eyes drifted between you… He knew it would come to blows.

          Stepping off the treadmill, sweat soaking his clothing, he picked up his phone. No calls. No texts. No Instagram updates. No tweets. You’d gone to ground, and he was desperate to hear from you. He dialed, knowing full well you wouldn’t answer. You never spoke before you were ready, you never made a decision that wasn’t thought out… He knew you well enough to know you’d be processing, but he needed you to know he was still there, he was still so close… A call, a text, and he’d be at your door.

          You sat still as your phone rang, his name and ID flashing… A photo Taehyung had taken on your last trip to Korea... A rainy day spent in sweats and watching your favorite movies, trying to show them films that were important to you. Subtitles on, and when the situation called for it, Namjoon translating. Jungkook had fallen asleep, his head resting on a pillow in your lap, fingers intertwined with yours. You sat slowly raking your fingers through his hair, smiling as you watched the film. The moment was too cute to pass up, and Taehyung snapped the pic. You watched it fade to black, and he listened as it rang and rang.

          “Noona, please, please talk to me. I love you; I love you so much and I, just please call me.”

          He picked up the weights, heavier than he needed, hand still hurting from the punch, and became determined to burn himself out before he could dare to think about your accusations.

          You’ve sat with him in the trenches, been there for his biggest hits and greatest wins. But you weren’t convinced he’d stand by your side. You didn’t believe he’d die for you, you didn’t believe that he’d take a bullet for you, to protect your honor, to defend his own he’d… He’d die for you, on the front page, on national television. He’d give you anything you wanted, everything you wanted, but would it be enough?

          Dropping the weights, mind spent, Jungkook ambled throughout the Airbnb, showering, forcing himself to eat, his bandmates asking if he was okay.

          “I still haven’t heard from her,” He whispered.

          “She’s safe, she’s at home,” Namjoon said, watching his maknae with sympathetic eyes.

          “I know,” He responded, eyes trained on the counter. He felt uncomfortable standing with his brothers in the spot where she had walked out on him, where she’d lay bare her fears and insecurities. It felt wrong, like the place should be torn down, burned, never to be built upon again. Anything to erase the memory.

          “She hasn’t said anything to us either,” Taehyung added, wrapping an arm around Jungkook.

          “Is that supposed to make him feel better?” Yoongi asked, making his way through the kitchen to grab an apple.

          “She isn’t just icing him out,” Taehyung clarified.

          “What are you going to say to her?” Yoongi questioned.

          “I don’t really want to talk about this,” Jungkook said, eyes finally moving to look at his bandmates. “I just, I just want to talk to her.” He stood, tears starting to form again and moved towards the backyard. As he pressed into the grass, his phone buzzed.

Come over please

           Jungkook bounded from the car to your front door, knocking frantically, enthusiastically, begging for entrance into your home. You approached slowly, a deep breath being drawn as you unlocked the door and stepped back, letting Jungkook slowly step over the threshold.

           “Baby, I-” He was cut off by your lips, hands reaching to pull him too you, your lips meeting in the middle. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His wet hair brushed your cheeks as you moved your arms to wrap around his neck, fingers instinctively playing with the hair at the nape. He growled lightly, bottom lip between his teeth, and started to move you, slowly, through the living room and down the hallway of your bungalow to your bedroom. Your hands moved down his clothed shoulders before slowly reaching up underneath his sweatshirt to rest on his bare chest, and as you pulled away for air, he deftly slid it over his head and tossed into a pile.

           “I want you,” You whispered, his hands gripping your hips, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed. You slowly opened your eyes, looking through your lashes at him.

           “I need you,” He whispered, the intensity in your gaze doubling as he stared. “Always, you.”

           You brought him onto the bed swiftly, lips connecting as he nestled himself between your thighs.

           “I love you,” You said as his hands began to tug at your shirt, carefully guiding it off your frame. “So much.”

           “I love you,” Jungkook said, his gaze staying with yours as he slipped his hand down the front of your leggings, splitting your lips open and taking a tentative stroke.

           “Take them off,” You said, arm covering your eyes, giving into the feeling of him, Jungkook, Golden Maknae, lover.

           He did as instructed, slowly spreading your legs, revealing yourself to him, your arousal clear and glistening, beckoning him to it. He wasted no time, no build up, no longing strokes or languid caresses. He wanted you, and he wanted you now.

           Wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud, he began to suck, alternating slow gentle pulls with sharper, harsher puckers. He held your thighs down, strong hands splaying across the fat of your thighs, his favorite thighs, keeping you firmly pressed into the mattress.

           Having sex with Jungkook was either one of three things:

1.     Slow and passionate

2.     Rough and overwhelming

3.     Gentle and giving

           It had taken you two a while to find your stride, sexually. One of you was experienced, the other lacking, and finding a common ground was challenging, except for the fact that you both so desperately wanted one another. You’d waited a decent amount of time, in your opinion, before having sex. You’d been burned before, and sex was something you wanted to share with someone you cared about, who was invested in whatever you were building together. Jungkook had understood and felt similarly. Your aligning star signs, and a particularly tight pair of jeans and a too low-cut top had pushed things over the edge, and you’d consummated your relationship in your house, first in the bedroom, then in the kitchen, and finally, the floor in front of the fireplace.

           Jungkook continued to attend to your clit, and when he felt you getting close, slipped two fingers inside, coaxing your walls to embrace him. The stretch, unwelcome at first, was exactly what you needed. Your orgasm crashed down, overwhelming you as a new batch of tears started to fall. You tried to maintain composure, the pleasure outweighing the guilt and pain. If not for yourself, for Jungkook. He noticed your change in demeanor, and slowly kissed up your body, straddling your waist and moving your hands from your eyes.

           “Hey, noona,” He whispered, lowering his lips to kiss your tears. You turned your head, catching his lips as your hand slipped between you, palming his member through his sweats. He moaned greedily, hips involuntarily rutting at your touch.

           “Jungkook,” You whispered against his lips. He slid off of you and stood, tossing his sweats and briefs into the same pile of clothes he’d tossed his sweatshirt.

           “How do you-

           “Just, like this,” You said, propped up on your elbows, staring at his naked form. You wanted to feel close, a part of him, like you’d felt the last time you’d made love. Yes, made love was the term Jungkook preferred. Sex could be, impersonal, emotionless, but making love… a phrase perfectly depicting what it was: love shared. You could tell from the glint in his eyes, the tears still spilling from your eyes, that the love making would be gentle and passionate, your favorite kind.

           Jungkook nodded, moving back between your open and willing legs, hand stroking himself once, twice, before he angled his hips and gently pressed into you. Moans swirled as the sound of his flesh against yours echoed off the walls, your tears mixing with sweat as he slowly thrust in and out of you. Your eyes locked on his as he slid a hand between you, teasing you towards your second orgasm as he edged closer and closer to his first.

           You wished it could be like this forever. The passion and heat between you hadn’t lessened in the years you’d been together, distance hadn’t made your wanting disappear, it only intensified. As you came down from your respective highs, Jungkook nipped at the skin on your shoulder, leaving a small love bite.

          “I love you,” you whispered, eyes closed tight, unwilling to look at him.

          “I know, noona, I know,” He whispered, eyes trained on your face. “Look at me,” His voice was gentle, an ask, not a demand.

          You opened your eyes, tears slipping down your temples, soaking your hair and absorbing into the pillows. Silently, Jungkook pressed his lips to yours before rising. He disappeared into the kitchen, washing his hands before bringing you a glass of water, waiting patiently for you to return from the bathroom before handing it to you. Sipping silently, you pulled him into the bathroom and into the shower.

          You’d both showered independently that morning, washing away your transgressions and anxieties from the night before. In the afternoon sunlight, the water brought you two together. As you washed each other, silence sitting in the atmosphere like low clouds, ridding themselves of the last few drops from the storm that had just raged.

          Slipping into clean clothes, pulling him to you again, you tumbled into your bed, limbs intertwined as your head rested on his chest, rising slowly with his breathing. The exhaustion from the fight, the anger, the fear, coupled with the exhaustion of making love, and the comfort of a lovers embrace lulled you both to sleep, only awakening when Jungkook’s phone rang.

          Groggily he answered, speaking swiftly in Korean.

          “The guys want to know if we want to go to dinner with them,” He said, glancing down at your still form.

          “Can we just stay in?” You asked, sleep still heavy in your body.

          “Of course we can,” He said standing. He stepped into the hallway; his voice still hushed as he spoke to whomever called him. You tried to open your eyes, to will the drowsiness away, and slowly it did. You opened your eyes to a setting sun, and Jungkook leaning against the doorframe, sweats low on his hips, back bare.

          Somewhere in his conversation he became animated, and you knew he could paint dreamscapes if he wanted.

          “Jungkook?” You said, pulling his attention from his phone call. He looked at you and smiled softly before saying his goodbyes.

          “Yes love?”

          “I, I’m sorry,” You said, fidgeting with the skin on your thumb.

          “I’m sorry too,” He offered, sitting on the bed, staring at you.

          “I’m so sorry for everything, for yelling at you, for being so harsh and cold, and, and”  

          His tattooed hand reached out to grab yours, a willing peace offering.

          “I’m sorry I minimized your pain,” You looked at him. “I, I ignored it. I latched onto the one thing I could control, and that was what the world could see of me. I couldn’t register your hurt because I don’t know how to fix it or make it better or make people less hateful... so I got angry because our privacy is something I can navigate. I can manage if someone sees us together, or Instagram posts or twitter comments. That I can do, but last night,” You shook your head, trying to block the memories from invading. “I shut out your feelings, Jungkook, I didn’t acknowledge what you were going through, and I’m so so sorry,” Your voice cracked as you uttered your apology. Jungkook was quick to move to you, pulling you against him, your fresh tears falling on his bare chest.

          “I don’t know what it’s like to experience that level of racism and hatred. I know microaggressions, I’ve fielded a million. I know in America we put Asian Americans in internment camps, we passed laws that literally wouldn’t allow them to become citizens, or enter our country, we blamed them for COVID and our stock market tanking... We fetishize and demean and make light of thousands of years of abuse. I’ve experienced my own racism, and colorism, but I’ve never ... I hate that you were hurt. I hate that someone could spew that vile, repugnant bull shit at you. I hate that I couldn’t do anything to protect you. I hate that I was so insensitive. I love you, Jungkook. I’ll give you a son, I’ll give you my best, I’ll die for you in secret, in public, I don’t care… But Jungkook, I don’t know if it will be enough?”

          Your eyebrows knitted together as you stared at him. Him, the Golden Maknae, the love of your life, the man of your dreams.

          “I love you,” Jungkook said, holding your gaze. “I love you. I want you… So, what if you can’t bring me peace? What does that even mean? Of course, you are enough because I say you are, because you say you are. You are enough and so much more,” Jungkook broke as your joined vulnerability tore down any remaining emotional walls or self-preservation you’d put up.

          You’d had a fight, a really-bad-could-end-everything fight. Neither of you were sure what would happen, what Bang and Big Hit would want from you, whether or not swinging for the fences was going to result in a low batting average or the record for homers in a relationships timeline. Neither of you cared. The ever-present question of whether either of you was enough for the other would eat away at you, dissipating only when lips touched, I love you’s exchanged, promises of forever etched on your hearts. You could be enough for one another… until he breaks into a million pieces and the shattered edges glisten with blood… then what?

Next: Clowns to the West

[jungcity]

love, eternal. | iv

genre: reincarnation!au, fallen angel!au

[supernatural-ish, angst, use of blunts and intoxicants, extra asshole jaehyun, smut, vulgar words]

pairing: jung jaehyun x reader

words: 9k

notes: it’s been really hard for me to write these past few days. i don’t know if i’m writing sense into this fic. but i do hope that you enjoy this chapter! please leave some feedbacks (bad or good is appreciated! :) ) it would really mean a lot to me! thank you so much! also, this chapter is unedited, so forgive the errors xx

part i | part ii | part iii | part v

“There is a halo in your mouth

and I like how it burns.”

— Sincerely, Joanna

You lay in bed awake, the kiss you shared with Jaehyun occupying almost all the space in your brain. Tugging on your hair, you forced yourself to sleep and not let yourself drown into the feeling— for the kiss still lingers on your lips, making your chest swell in unbelievable happiness.

The dinged of your phone pulled you out of your fantasy, you grabbed it from the nightstand and saw Soojin’s name displayed on the notification panel.

[Are u ok? R u home?]

You typed in your answer, squinting from the brightness of the screen.

[Yes. I’m home. U?]

But before you decided to keep your phone, Yuta’s caller ID flashed on the screen. A frown slid past your lips, then you slide the red button. You currently do not have the energy to deal with anyone. But you at least owe Soojin a message to let her know that you’re home safe.

You stare at the ceiling, the image of Jaehyun flashing into the white color above. Jaehyun’s lips tasted of tequila and mint— so soft against yours. Out of all the boys that you’ve kissed in your lifetime, the one you shared with Jaehyun stood amongst others. Yes, you’ve kissed boys when you were drunk or sober, but none of their kisses made you feel light yet heavy— like you were flying and drowning at the same time. It thrilled you to the bones. You subconsciously touched your lips just to feel it one last time, and just to prove yourself that it happened. Jaehyun kissed you, and you kissed him back.

The realization of how happy you were of the experience blows your mind, and that how the touch of his lips felt like a distant memory. The caress of his lips, so familiar you started to wonder if you’d ever kiss him before.

But that’s impossible, right?

Dreaming again? The voice inside you asked.

You stare at the queen size four poster bed. Roaming your eyes around the room, you saw a vanity resting at the corner in front of the gothic-styled windows, and a dresser probably bigger than the bathroom you have home is located on the side.

The thick red curtains drapes down, their edges touching the tiled floor. You spotted a vintage hand mirror on the nightstand, the glass reflecting that of a moonstone you wonder if it’s used to mirror things or just a mere display. Shrugging, you placed it back and sat on the bed.

Your butt slightly sunk into the soft mattress, allowing a soft gasp to escape your lips. The mattress was so inviting, you laid on the pillows, and the same happened to your head— it also sunk in the cushion. You could sleep forever if you wished to. For there was no one in the whole room but you.

A sudden tardiness hugged your body whole as you lay still, your mind blank from everything. Not even the kiss you shared with Jaehyun could make you think of something other than the comfort of the room. You wonder who could be the owner of such a classic and magnificent room. He or she must be sophisticated to have owned such grandiose space. Despite the somnolence, you compelled yourself to stand. The room felt suddenly eerie because of its vastness. You would’ve shivered if not for the sunlight that’s infiltrating it through the glass windows.

Roaming your eyes for the second time around, your vision caught sight of the small veranda attached to the room, making you realized that it must be located on the top floors of a house. You pulled yourself up, the cold tiled floor biting on your soles. Barefooted, you walked to the veranda, night dress swaying in every step.

Vast green fields greeted you as you pushed the door open. Tall trees standing here and there with thick foliages. There was one who bends on the veranda: making everything looked like a Romeo and Juliet’s scene.

There was an easel supporting a finished canvas. Paintbrushes and different oil pigments sat atop a table beside it. A separate table with teacups and spoons resides in the nearest corner with two chairs around it.

Everything seems like a fairytale. The whole place felt so removed from the loudness of the society. A dream you once had as a child; serenity, with only your canvas, paintbrushes and pigments beside you. Now here it is, and it felt so real, kindling an ember inside you it could start a fire. You inhaled.

You stepped closer to the canvas. The hues of it being illuminated by the sunlight made everything so marvelous. It was bright, it was alive, and it feels like your own.

“Fallen angel,” you breathed.

It was an angel, falling from the heavens. Wings splayed, like he forgot how to use them and blend with the wind. The artwork gave the impression of an unending fall. His eyes had that horror of being banished, yet when you look at the wholeness of his face, you saw the fury that lies within.

“It is indeed a fallen angel,”

You jumped and turned around to greet the voice. Heart hammering against your chest, you saw a pretty woman standing behind you. Hair black as the night, eyes as the blue of the skies— she’s the one you saw in your reflection in the mirror. How?

“I am Aurora,” She extended her hands. You looked at her outstretched hands before reluctantly taking it with your hands and shaking it. It was so soft. No callouses could be felt.

“I am… Y/N.”

Aurora smiled. You’ve never seen someone as beautiful except for Jaehyun. She looked like a goddess ready to bring peace in to the Earth. Her smooth steps enthralled you, every move of her feet towards the canvas is like a silent wave of the waters in the ocean.

“This is unfinished.”

Her voice. It could lull any crying children to sleep; so soft, so serene.

“Really? What could be missing?”

You both stare at it and you noticed that your dresses are similar to each other.

“A tear.” She smiled at you. “Will you do the honors of completing it for me?”

Even if you don’t understand a single thing, specially her favor, you nodded. What could possibly be the reason of her asking for you if she could paint it on her own? And as if she heard the voices in your mind, she turned to you.

“I… don’t have the ability to finish it anymore.”

There was sadness in her eyes which quickly reflected on you. Almost like you feel what she currently feels. So you grab the paintbrush and started to dip it on the pigments. With Aurora guiding you, she pointed where exactly to put the tear. You oblige and started painting it.

“It’s don…e.”

Where is Aurora? You searched for her with your keen eyes, but there wasn’t any trace to tell you where did she possibly go. The door is silent, a proof that no one pushed it. All that you could hear is the rustling of winds against the leaves.

You longed to touch the canvas, to feel the bumpiness of the paint against it. Hair’s breadth away, you suddenly curled your finger. It was so perfect that you’d feel ashamed to taint it with your hands, even though you touched it with brushes, it feels wrong to let your hand feel it. So you look and look at it until you drank all the details in, with a promise to recreate it once you wake up.

Three knocks, those were the sounds that woke you up out of slumber. You heard the muffled voice of your sister against the door that’s separating you from the life outside.

“There’s a delivery for you,” said she, voice a bit louder for you to hear. You told her you’re awake, and that you’d just compose yourself so she should entertain the delivery personnel for a minute.

Delivery? You rack your brain of anything, thinking of the last thing you purchased online. And that is a new drawer to keep your art materials in place.

With a creased brow, you swiftly tied your hair while still thinking of what could the delivery be. Then the realization slowly hit you, your eyes widened and you ran outside, abandoning your hair half tied into a bun.

“Good morning, miss.” The delivery boy greeted, a soft smile on his lips.

“G-good morning,” You stuttered, heart rumbling.

“We’re here to deliver the painting purchased by Mr. Jung. Is he around?” He was still smiling, eyes roaming around the living room, searching for a man who isn’t there.

You composed yourself by breathing in and out, silently wishing that Jaehyun has already handled the shipping fee.

“He’s not around. But can I… can I receive the parcel for him?” You asked, surprised that you’ve said the sentence without stuttering.

It would cause a lot of trouble if you tell them that you mistyped the address on the mail you sent their company, so it’s best that you accept the package instead of asking them to deliver it to Jaehyun’s house. And you’re certain Jaehyun would kill you one or another.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. But yes you can, Ma’am. Just show us your valid ID so we can tell Mr. Jung that one of his relatives accepted the parcel,”

You nodded at him and walked back to your room to gather your ID. He must’ve thought that Jung Jaehyun is living in this small apartment and that you’re one of his family members. The thought almost made you laugh and you scoff. Relative? I’m not even a friend, you mumbled.

You handed him the ID then he wrote your name on some paper and on the horizontal line at the end of a separate paper he’s laid on the table. He handed you the pen, then you wrote your signature above the name. He tipped his cap, walked back to the delivery vehicle and when he came back, he’s carrying an average sized parcel. By the looks of it, you bet the canvas is of the standard size. You guided him towards the sofa, where he laid the parcel carefully.

“Thank you,” You smiled, which he answered with the same gesture, tipping his cap again and bidding his goodbyes.

“What is that?” Yuqi asked, scrutinizing the parcel with a mug of hot chocolate on one hand. Sighing, you slumped in one of the sofas, covering your face with your hands.

“I’m seriously fucked up,” You told her.

“Why? What happened?”

“That is the parcel which was supposed to be delivered to Jung Jaehyun’s. Not here. I mistyped the address because of my agitation by Yuta’s arrival,”

“That jerk really couldn’t do anything right, could he?”

Yuqi was still a baby teen when she met Yuta, but her blood did not settle good in him. She warned you about her gut feelings towards him— that he’s bad news who’d shatter your heart in pieces. Guess what, in her young age, she was right.

“He even punched Jaehyun,”

“Wow! The audacity! Jaehyun could literally throttle him,” Yuqi stated, a scoff leaving her lips.

“Jaehyun did not fight back. Brawling with Yuta must’ve seemed so pathetic to him.”

“I guess so. Rich bachelors like him does not indulge themselves to useless—”

Your phone rang all the way to the room, making you jump in your seat and literally dive for it in your drawers. Jaehyun is calling. You gulped and pray before sliding the green button.

“The fuck is this, Y/N?! One job! You had one job! And you couldn’t even do it right!”

By his shouting, you pulled your phone away from your ear. You could see the veins in his forehead protrude in your mind, adding more to your anxiety.

“I’m—”

He breathed, “I don’t need your apology.” Then paused, “Deliver that here in thirty-minutes, or else…” He breathed again, and you swear your knees started to wobble. “You know what’d happen,”

Then he hang up. You hugged your phone to your chest, recollecting the sanity Jaehyun kicked out of your body. He couldn’t expect you to arrive in his penthouse in thirty-minutes when it’s literally one hour away from your house. But he’s Jung Jaehyun, and he always gets what he wants. It doesn’t matter how you get there, you just need to get there. Thirty-minutes, you dashed for the bathroom. Half an hour isn’t even enough to scrub your body clean. Dissatisfied from the five-minute bath, you rapidly put things in your bag and settled for a hoodie and pants.

Nice, twenty-minutes left. You didn’t even have any time to dry your hair, so you comb it on the way to the bus stop with the parcel tucked in your arms. It wasn’t as heavy as you’d expected it would be, but nonetheless, it was tiring to carry it all the way to the bus stop. Luckily, there’s already a bus waiting when you get there. You climbed on to the vehicle and made yourself comfortable by listening to some music.

It’s impossible to reach his place in less than twenty-minutes. So you disregard his death threats and think about something else. And that something else is the kiss you shared. Your heart suddenly made a jump, realizing that you’re going to Jaehyun’s house. The awkwardness settled in your bones, and the fact that you’ve never been there made you wary. You have no idea what to expect; a model walking out of his house?

Jaehyun doesn’t seem really interested in the opposite sex, but then he kissed you, ravenously. You blushed at the memory of him trying to suck the breath out of you.

The hotel where his penthouse is located loomed over you. You gasped while trying to see the peak of it, so high it made your nape hurt a little. And you frowned by the realization that you need to carry the parcel all the way to the top where his penthouse is located. Blowing out air from your mouth, you walked inside the hotel.

You stare at the canvas resting beside you while you stand in the elevator, wondering what kind of art it is. You’ve never taken Jaehyun to be fond of the arts, but here he is, proving your impressions wrong again. Coincidentally, you’ve also dreamed about a painting. Its memory already printed in your mind that your finger itch to start drawing it.

You stepped outside once the elevator door dinged, carrying the parcel in your hand. There was a single door at the end of the hallway. You have no idea how to tell Jaehyun that you’re already outside, and you don’t want to risk pushing the buttons and scanners in his door, so you sent him a text message instead, hoping that he wasn’t too busy to glance at it.

The door opened, but there was no one who greeted you. Automatic doors? Can’t relate, you whispered to yourself. You pushed the door wider, peeking your head on to the space. The whole house is as silent as a mausoleum. One word to describe the interiors? Magnificent. An expensive looking bachelor pad for a bachelor such as Jung Jaehyun. Everything in sight seems so modernized yet minimal. The hues of the furnitures blends in well with the color of the floor and walls. The ceiling is also high, and of course, a floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

You stepped your foot inside, expecting Jaehyun to appear in the corner to throttle you of your incompetence. Shaking the bad thoughts away, you completely entered the penthouse.

“Sir?” You called against the emptiness of it.

“Jaehyun! Faster!”

Chills ran down your whole body as you heard something erotic. It isn’t what you think it is, right? But the scattered clothes splayed on the sofas and floors told you that it is indeed what you think it is. Another grunt echoed of the whole floor, then a scream followed it. You couldn’t move your body. Maybe you wanted to run, or you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Because, Jesus Christ, you couldn’t stand and watch a live porn!

The moans and the grunts halted. And you still stood there, palms sweating with your forehead despite the ventilations.

“You’re here,”

“Holy mother of rectangles!” You jumped, your hand flying to your chest.

“I said thirty minutes,” Jung Jaehyun stated while leaning on the door frame with a glass of liquor in hand. He’s wearing a thin white long-sleeves, its fabric clinging on to his sweat beaded body, accentuating his chest and muscles. You thank God that he’s wearing pajamas, because let’s be honest, you’re not ready to see a limp dick today. God really do have mercy.

A girl slid her hands around Jaehyun’s chest. Despite her bedraggled hair, she is much fully clothed— maybe the clothes on the floors all belongs to Jaehyun. But you’re sure you’ve seen a female underwear— so the girl is not wearing her panties inside that body-fitted dress? You gulped down the thoughts. People could be really wild sometimes.

Wet, sloppy kisses filled the whole floor. You could only assume that the girl was giving open-mouthed kisses to Jaehyun’s back.

“Until next time baby,” She cooed, grabbing his crotch— grabbing his crotch?!— in front of you. She made it seem like there’s nobody standing there with them. You wanted to gag, but there was something in Jaehyun’s eyes as he looked at you while the girl literally shoved her hand inside his pajamas, doing God-knows-what with his penis.

The intensity of his stare suddenly makes it harder for you to breath. You felt something in your stomach uncurl as Jaehyun’s mouth slightly parted by the pleasure he’s currently feeling. Run, damn it. But your body felt leaden and you couldn’t move your feet. As much as you wanted to deny it, Jaehyun’s pleasured face made you feel hot all over. To your face down and in between your legs.

If the girl doesn’t stop giving Jaehyun a handjob, and if Jaehyun, himself, wouldn’t stop staring at you with that gaze, your knees would absolutely collapse any time soon. And as if Jaehyun saw your predicament, he pushed the girl away.

“See you soon,” Jaehyun muttered. Then the girl leaned forward, giving his neck a sloppy kiss.

You tucked the strands of you hair behind your ear, suddenly embarrassed of letting yourself watch the little scene that unfolded before you. The sound of heels echoed everywhere when the girl walked past, completely ignoring your whole existence. Like you didn’t just see her give your boss a handjob.

Jaehyun walked towards you while drinking the liquor in one go. Eyebrow already raised as he stood face to face with you. You didn’t meet his gaze, for the fear that he might see how flustered you were right now. And you didn’t want to give him any satisfaction of knowing that you were affected of his little foreplay exhibit.

You cleared your throat then offered him the parcel, “Here.”

He pointed the sofa with his lips. You have no other choice but to oblige. Heaviness tried to pull on your feet as you walked to the sofa, your nerves still in a frenzy as you lay the parcel above the cushion.

Jaehyun was still standing behind you, watching you like a prey he’s not sure whether to kill or to let go. Either way, you forced your feet to move, and walked past him. You have no more business to do for him, and you badly wanted to go home. The scene the two of them made in front of you is enough to knock your consciousness and put you in a coma. And maybe you’d need a dextrose full of holy water to cleanse your body.

He stopped you by holding your arm, “Where are you going?”

You deadpanned, “Home.”

“The kitchen is there. Make me something to eat,” He pointed with his finger, with the hand still holding the empty glass.

You stared at him, not believing his words. He didn’t just order you to make him food when he literally made some random girl give him a handjob while you’re watching, right? What kind of drug is he inhaling? You badly want to try some. Just to become as detached as him.

“It’s Sunday, Jaehyun.” You reminded him, dropping all the professionalism to make him remember that he couldn’t boss you around outside of work. And that he should probably head inside a church and cleanse his soul of anything ungodly lurking within. But of course, you didn’t say that.

“Don’t make me repeat it again.” He warned, then walked back to his room, leaving you irritated. To do what, you have no idea— maybe he’ll jer— okay, calm down Y/N.

There’s no point making sense with Jung Jaehyun. The man thinks he owns everything and everyone around him. He’s standing on a pedestal higher than your own height. You know you can’t argue with people like that. So you trekked the direction Jaehyun motioned earlier, and then you found the kitchen. It’s a U-shaped kitchen with an island on the center. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the tall buildings outside.

You placed your bag above the island, then you sauntered up to the two-door refrigerator. Of course, even his refrigerator screams ‘rich’, full of goods you bet he doesn’t even try to cook nor eat. You grabbed something that is easy to cook— eggs. Maybe you’ll make a soufflé egg, or a pancake— or maybe a meal that he could eat until dinner. Then you shook your head and reminded yourself not to be frustrated over what he wants. He’s a grown ass man, he could take care of himself.

Yes, he’s a grown ass man who could definitely take care of himself. But here you are, cooking soy garlic chicken for him. Jaehyun was still nowhere to be found, giving your head at least the peacefulness it deserves.

You pondered about what happened earlier. A girl moaning inside his room, then that girl giving him a handjob in front of you. The realization of him kissing another girl after he kissed you hit home. It shouldn’t even hurt you, but it did. Does he badly wants to rub your kiss off his lips? Of course it was a mistake, you know that. But it didn’t feel wrong to you.

What is wrong with me?

You calmed yourself by drinking a glass of cold water, forcing to forget everything like how you forced to swallow the cold liquid. But you know that’s impossible. You couldn’t just forget a kiss like that.

To keep your mind off things, you decided to make a coffee for Jaehyun. The chicken is all ready, but he still locked up on his room. He should really give you a large bonus for your effort of dressing his breakfast plate. You laid all the food in the dining table: soufflé eggs, vegetable salad, hotdogs, soy garlic chicken, rice, and his coffee.

Jaehyun showed up the same moment you gathered your bag to go. He’s wearing fresh clothes on: black shirt with a new and clean sweatpants, hair still wet and his face looking refreshed. Obvious that he just got out of shower. You stopped yourself from asking what could be his skincare routine when you remembered that rich people like him doesn’t need one.

He eyed the foods laid on his dinner table, you’re sure it’s his first time seeing that many dishes for his breakfast. Did you overdo it? The sudden thought of making an effort for him made you blush. You’ve never cooked food for someone other than your mother and Yuqi before. The reality of doing it for the first time for someone— let alone a man— flustered you.

“I left some of the chicken in the oven, you can heat it up later for dinner. Eat well.” You started to walked away, but he grabbed you again when you trudge past him.

You inhaled, closing your eyes. What is it again? Somehow, being this close to him made you feel lightheaded. Because of what? You don’t know and you don’t want to know. The mere touch of his fingers could send electric bolts in your whole body and you didn’t like the way he makes you nervous just by being near.

“What more do you want, Jaehyun?” You snapped.

He doesn’t let go of your hand when he said, “Aside from sipping a nice and warm coffee, maybe I want you to bend over this very table so I can fuck you raw,”

Jesus Christ. The next thing you heard was a loud slap of skin to skin. You stare at him, dumbfounded with a stinging palm. His cheeks turned ruddy by the contact.

His head was still in a sideway position when he smirked. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears, so loud and so frantic you thought you’d go deaf.

“Do you… do you really want a lawsuit filed against you, Jaehyun?” Surprisingly, your voice box is still working on your throat.

If Jaehyun could laugh because of your statement, he would. But he only stared at you as if you’re the whole circus.

“I’d like to see you try, chérie.”

The caress of his voice made your skin prickle. You dared stare at his eyes, into those dark orbs no one could ever read. Hatred that no one could quenched stared back at you, with the intensity of the storm that lies within fueling it. Convoluted as it was, the hatred isn’t meant for you. It’s more like a tattoo, permanent in his eyes. But hatred isn’t the only thing that was reflected in those eyes— there was something else: desire. You shivered. In defiance of the hate that’s showing vehemently on his irises, you couldn’t deny that Jaehyun’s beauty is not of this world. With his face looking ethereal like that, he could be a deity.

“I’m… going.” You gulped down saliva, trying to salve your thundering heart. He did not say anything, not a word when you turned your back on him and walked away.

But you could swear you felt him looking at your retreating back all the way to the door.

—

Jaehyun stared at the foods lay before him on the table. Unable to process why did you cook so many. He palmed his cheek before sitting, feeling like a thousand ant is crawling on his skin, the others biting. It was well-deserved though, for being so callous of his words. Yet the words that came out of his mouth was not a joke, just ended up lecherous. And the emotion on your face while you watch Mina giving him a handjob flashed in his mind without warning.

There and there, in your spot, with your innocent doe eyes trying not to run from the scene made something in him twitch. But your expression was so priceless— forcing yourself to not give up any emotion as you watch them. It made him feel hotter, hornier even. That if he could pushed Mina away and grabbed you just to kiss you as he did in your living room yesterday night, he would. Yet a force inside him locked him in place, reminding him that the kiss you shared was nothing but the result of his impulsive ass.

He tried to erase it, you know. He tried to erase your soft lips— tasting of everything sweet against the cruelty etched in his— but he couldn’t. The way you kissed him back made him mad— mad at himself for enjoying it, mad at his heart for feeling something familiar. A familiarity he buried together with Aurora.  

He tried to shake it off by grabbing the hips of the unfamiliar girl underneath him, sure it’s going to leave bruises. Her fake squealing and moaning filled the whole house, but it didn’t even reach the emptiness inside him. So unlike the brief kiss you shared that sparked the fire long smoldered in his system.

He fucked her ‘til you arrived, just to let you know that what you shared was wrong. Not because he didn’t want it— heck, if he could claim you here and there, he would— but because he couldn’t taint another human being with the evil inside him. And he couldn’t afford to go down the path of trying to be good, just to be reminded that he’s not. And never will be.

What he felt for you, he couldn’t quite understand. When he sees you, he feels excited— alive even. And he’s certain Aurora would’ve cried of happiness if she knew he’s feeling something towards another girl again, after so many fucking years. After all, it was her wish before she blew out her last breath. For him to never forget love, instead cherish it. Hold on to it. Because it was salvation, she said. Yet Jaehyun couldn’t still believe it, if it was salvation, why does it feel punishment? Because it is a punishment, you fool, he whispered to himself.

He thanked his phone ringing of saving him into his thoughts. The name Johnny Seo displayed in the screen. He slide the green button, turning it on speakers.

“Bastard,”

“Puppy,” He reared back. Johnny is an alpha, and calling him puppy always raged him. Which is why Jaehyun branded him the name, to piss him off.

“I fucking hate you, you know that?” The wolf retaliated. Jaehyun nodded, taking a bite of his food.

“Anyways, you do know that my birthday is in four days, right? Or you don’t?”

Jaehyun could even see Johnny’s brow rising.

“I don’t. Birthdays are dramatic,” He prattled.

“Yes, because you don’t have one dickhead.” Johnny laughed.

If Jaehyun was an emotional wreck of an angel, he would’ve been hurt. But it’s the truth. He doesn’t celebrate birthdays because he doesn’t have one. He came into this world without going through the process of a mother’s pregnancy. But Johnny, and his whole pack of wolf has, being that they were all human once. Chaelin is the only one who shares the same struggle as him.

When Jaehyun didn’t bother to say anything, Johnny continued his sentence. “I’m celebrating it here, of course, in London.”

So the bastard is in London, Jaehyun whispered in his mind.

“You better go or else I’m pulling out my share in your company.” Johnny threatened. He would’ve laugh. Jaehyun is richer than all of Johnny and his pack of wolf’s riches combined. But he’s already planning to go to London for business, and he thought seeing how his comrades are faring with life every now and then isn’t a bad idea.

“I’m coming,”

“Come in my stomach then,” Johnny laughed.

It took Jaehyun a second to realize the joke. “Damn you, Seo.”

Johnny continued to laugh. Jaehyun attempted to pressed the red button when Johnny said something that perked his ear.

“Bring Y/N. Everyone will go. Including Taeyong’s clan and Doyoung’s group of warlocks.” — He said your name like you’re a friend— “Say I’m inviting her. I’ll handle her ticket, I know it’d hurt your ego to handle a pretty lady’s fare.”

“Shut the fuck up Seo, she’s not coming with me.” Jaehyun stated in a clipped tone. The thought of you meeting Johnny’s pack and Taeyong’s clan made his temper boil. At least you’re safe with Doyoung and the other warlocks if ever.

“Shall I call her myself then? She does not need to fly with you. She could arrive first, your choice.”

Jaehyun knows Johnny has his ways to contact you despite not knowing your number. And he couldn’t think straight of the possibility of you flying alone to London. Without him by your side.

“No, she’s my secretary. It’s just right that she flies with me.”

“You’re one hell of a complicated douchebag, Jung J—”

Jaehyun pressed the red button, not letting Johnny finish his sentence. Then he continued to eat, the thought of you going to London with him making him zestful than usual.

Then he remembered the forgotten canvas lying on his sofa. He stood up immediately and dashed to the living room only to slow down when he’s near. Heart thudding against his chest, a reminder that Aurora still have a part of him wrapped around her fingers.

He sat and stare at the parcel for a whole five-minutes. Readying himself to see the canvas inside that he knows too well— like the back of his hand. He grabbed it and slowly tear the thick carton wrapped in it.

Every inch of color sending bolts in his body. The familiar feeling of the canvas in his palms taking the breath out of him. He continued to tear the carton until nothing is left wrapped up around the art.

There it is. Aurora’s painting. In his hands. After so many years, he finally found the courage to stare at it. And the feeling is overwhelming. It’s overwhelming to see his own self, painted in the canvas made by the girl he loved more than life itself.

Of course Aurora knew.

Of course she knew that he was The Fallen.

And she never once judged him. Unlike all the people in the world, Aurora never turned her back on him despite knowing the truth.

That’s why his world crumbled for the second time when she died,— the only person who understood that Lucifer, himself, also needed love— slipping away from his fingers.

The art was wonderfully preserved, with only little to no dents. The pigments weren’t as bright as he remembers, but it’s the art of Aurora nonetheless.

His wings, the glowing of it intelligently captured by her. It made his lips slightly bend into a smile. But it quickly receded when he noticed something on the face. A detail he doesn’t remember noticing when he first saw the canvas one hundred years ago. A… tear?

It was so small, but it’s surely not a dent. For when he looked at it, the pigment stared right back at him.

—

You feel like shit when you came back home. It felt like you trekked a whole mountain from the unrest that you feel inside. Your bones feel heavy, your eyes too. And you blame Jaehyun and that girl for it. Her face, and her lips pressed into Jaehyun’s skin made you unexpectedly irritated. The mere thought of her sleeping on his bed made everything worse than it is.

Sure, she’s maybe a supermodel, or an actress, or an influential person and you’re just a secretary barely hanging on to life— but you could feel that the bond you have with Jaehyun is more meaningful than what they possibly have. Hearing yourself prattle about your vexation towards the girl and your boss, you tugged on your hair. You’re saying nonsense, Y/N. Of course, you and Jaehyun do not have any ‘bond’ to begin with and—

“Are you okay?” Yuqi looked up from her notes to you.

At her words, you realized that you’re already standing in the living room.

“Of-of course,” You blinked.

Yuqi shook her head, “Yes, Jaehyun and you do not have any bond. What else?” She teased.

Oh, so you said the words aloud. Your cheeks heated by Yuqi’s teasing. She’s just caught you thinking about your boss, and heard you blathering nonsense in the air.

Frustrated by everything, you decided to just paint something. The canvas from your dream begging to be recreated. You changed your clothes and readied your materials. Luckily, there’s a remaining canvas resting at the corner of your room, slightly smaller than the one in your dream but that could do.

You tied your hair in a messy bun before securing your canvas on to the easel, placing it facing the only window you have in your room. Light filters through, but not hot enough to make you wince. The weather is perfect with the sun hiding in the thick clouds.

Making yourself comfortable on the stool, you grabbed the canvas again. Hugging it onto the crook of your arm and tracing lines here and there to make the shape of the falling angel. The passion burning in your fingers prevented you from taking a rest, albeit your neck is starting to freeze and cramp.

Craning your neck left to right, you stare at the sketch. You couldn’t proclaim that it’s the same as your dream for the lack of colors it has, so you started to mixed oil pigments, with the hues of the painting from your dreams being your guide. You mixed blues for the skies, whites for the angel’s silk robe wrapped in his waist, blacks, reds, and oranges for the smoldering wings. But the one color you’ve had a hard time figuring out is the iridescence coating his wings. You needed your phone to search how to mix colors that’d look gleaming against the canvas. In the midst of your search, you’ve found out knowledge beyond what you expected.

Lucifer was God’s favorite angel. You could see it in his wings— for it glows unlike any other angels.

So, the painting must be an interpretation of Lucifer? You wondered.

Shiver like no other covered your body, the divine knowledge sipping in your mind. Because of that, you became more eager to finish the canvas. After mixing a lot of pigments and trying it to different papers, you’ve finally succeeded in making a glowing color. You laid the small jar on your study table, careful not to spill a drop, and continued to paint all around the sketch.

Yuqi called for you to dinner, the only time you allowed yourself to rest. You straightened your back and massaged your palms, numb from all the drawings and paintings you did. Before departing your room, you stare at the canvas. It’s not even halfway through, so you couldn’t make out the result in your head yet. You supposed you can continue painting it once you have the time, since it’s obvious that you wouldn’t be able to finish it today despite wanting to.

“What’s that you’re working on? Commission?” Yuqi asked as she swallowed a spoonful of ramen soup.

“Nope. Just… had an idea.”

Still, you remained quiet about your dreams. Not that anyone could understand them. You couldn’t decipher them yourself. And you know it’s best to keep them a secret for now.

Your phone lit up in the corner of the table, a text had just arrived. While munching on your food, you slid it open.

[We’re heading to London in three days. Send me your infos. Got it covered. Don’t ask too much questions.]

You forcefully swallowed your food, not wanting your mouth to spit it. Throat tightening, you drank a glass of water.

“What is it?” Yuqi asked, patting your back and peeking on the screen. “London?!” She exclaimed upon reading the message. You could only nod.

Jaehyun told you to book him a flight to London. It never occurred to you that he needed you to accompany him. The thought of flying to London with him gave you the good kind of goosebumps. But you didn’t allow your emotions to get the best of you. You typed in a reply.

[Okay, Sir. E-mailing it to you now.] But you really wanted to type in all-caps and make sure that you’re really coming with him.

You’re not certain you could get enough sleep tonight.

—

Days went on in a blur, and now you find yourself seated across Jaehyun in a first class plane. You decided not to move much, for you don’t have any idea how should you act around. Jaehyun does not spare you any glance at all. He’s reading a book for an hour now, completely ignoring your presence.

But before you got on the plane, he told you the real reason of bringing you with him after days of not telling you. Johnny’s birthday is tomorrow, and he invited you. The mere thought of him remembering you as you are and not as Jaehyun’s secretary warmed your heart. Unfortunately, you couldn’t buy an expensive watch or necktie for him so you sticked to what you do best— drawing. You drew him for days, leaving the other canvas you’re working on in the corner of your room. You could only hope that Johnny would like the gift.

Many things agitated you the whole hours that you’re sitting or leaning on your seat. Like, what would you wear? It’s not like you could wear your uniform in there. And you have no money to buy a dress. The money you have in your wallet is only enough to buy you, Yuqi, and Soojin souvenirs. As for Yuta, after days of trying to contact you and bombarding your phone with text messages, he finally gave up. You still haven’t had the guts to talk to him about his and Jaehyun’s brawl. Jaehyun never opened the conversation to you, too.

There’s many things that he does not try to address to you; the kiss, the little scene he made on his own house, and his comment about your soy garlic chicken. Yes, you bloody want him to say at least something about the food you prepared. But days had passed, no words came out of his mouth. He’s back to being the most cold-hearted man yet again.

You shifted on your seat, trying to rest your eyes. Jaehyun said there’s still three hours remaining before you land— the only thing he’s said to you. Clearing your mind off your thoughts, you close your eyes. This time, there’s no dream that accompanied the void in you.

You felt a nudge in your arm, Jaehyun’s voice looming around you, waking you up. The sting in your eyes hit the moment you opened them, squinting against the light around you. You noticed a small blanket wrapped around you, not remembering the moment you wrapped yourself in it.

“That… is the attendant’s doing.” Jaehyun pointed out, staring at you. And honestly? He didn’t need to do that. You know his personality too well to even assume that he’s the one who did it.

“We’re landing in five minutes,”

—

You arrived in Ridgemount Hotel after a hectic ride on a limo rented by Jaehyun, himself. Hectic because none of you uttered a word, your mouth has gone dry and jetlag kicked it the moment you stepped inside. You couldn’t even bring yourself to read something for the pulsating ache in your head.

Jaehyun’s hotel room is located across from you. Of course, he would prefer to spend a lot of money that to be wise and stay with you to the same room. Not that it matters to you, anyway. You’re definitely alright being your own specie in your room.

You have no idea how long did you sleep the jetlag away. There were no messages from Jaehyun when you opened your phone. You guessed he’s also getting some rest for the party tomorrow now that will be celebrated at Guildhall. The moment Jaehyun told you the venue, your eyes almost fell from its sockets. You only see Guildhall when you browse the web for medieval halls in London, and now you’ll get there tomorrow evening. The excitement is unbearable. You could literally jump from happiness. But a loud knock on the door stopped you from flinging yourself on the soft mattress.

“Hi!”

“Ms. Chaelin?”

The woman is smiling at you, wearing a white cardigan with a large belt wrapped around her waist. What is she doing here?

“Come in!” You said, letting her precede you to the door.

“Oh, your room is so cozy.”

She scanned the room with interest before sitting on the bed and looking at you.

“You’re probably wondering why I am here bothering your beauty rest,” She laughed. “But I’m just wondering if we could, you know, have some fun before Johnny’s birthday.”

“I— I’m afraid I don’t have…” Your voice faded, the sudden embarrassment coating you. But Chaelin only smiled at you, her face gave up the notion of telling you not to worry about a penny.

“Don’t worry about it! Everything is on me.”

“I can’t possibly accept that, Miss.”

“Just call me Chaelin. Please let me treat you. I wanna make up to the last time we’ve met. I know it wasn’t pleasant.” She wheedled.

She’s talking about your first week at Jung’s Fiscals. You waved your hands to tell her not to worry about it.

“It’s okay… you don’t need to. If there’s a person who should be doing that, it’s Jaehyun.” You told her.

“Yes! That’s right. Jaehyun told me— oh, nevermind. Do you have anything to wear?”

Jaehyun told her what? You shrugged off the curiosity. By her question, you slowly shake your head. That’s a problem you’ve been pondering on for hours now.

“Then all the reason for me to treat you!” Chaelin wrapped her arms around yours, not giving you any chance to argue.

You changed into comfortable clothes, fit for hours of shopping you assumed would take place. Chaelin waited for you, scrolling through her phone the whole time. According to her, all of Johnny’s friends will attend the anticipated party of the year. Not to jump into prejudice, you assumed Johnny is the kind of guy who throws absolutely crazy parties by the way Chaelin anticipates the event.

Knowing about the attendance of Johnny’s friends is the sole reason why you’re trudging the shiny floors and garish interior of a famous boutique near the hotel you’re staying in. You sent a simple message to Jaehyun, informing him that you went outside with Chaelin. As usual, he did not bother to reply.

You and Chaelin had fun. She literally made you her own personal doll, pulling you in and out of boutiques to dig every clothes there is that would fit you. You let her do her fairy-godmother work, being that you are lacking knowledge when it comes to the matter of class and magnificence. And you trust her taste enough to let her on her mission of finding the best dress for you.

Every now and then, she tells you about her friendship with Jaehyun. Not that you ask, but it made you curious nonetheless. According to her, they’ve been friends for a really long time now. It made you think that maybe they’d met in their elementary school. But Chaelin did not give you any specific date of their first meeting.

The day went on, and now you find yourself staring at the dress and stiletto Chaelin bought you. A promise to pay her was answered with a scrunch of her nose, telling you not to worry about the money and that she gave you the things wholeheartedly, not expecting any payment. It didn’t make you feel comfortable, but at least you relaxed by the assurance of wearing something decent tomorrow.

The door suddenly clicked open, and you jumped by seeing Jaehyun. He stares at you for a minute, obviously wanted to say something, but he rubbed his nape and closed the door again.

What was that?

You shrugged but after a second, the door opened again, revealing your boss with his back straightened, ready to give orders.

“Eat with me,”

Jaehyun did not wait for you to answer, giving you no chance to change your clothes. You supposed your current attire was enough, so you trudge outside and followed him to the hotel’s hall.

He sat, food in his plate. You followed after mere minutes of filling yours with delicacies you don’t know the name and haven’t tasted yet in your whole life. Jaehyun said nothing, just silently bite and munch his food. This is your first time eating with him, and you noticed that he’s feminine when he eats. There’s nothing wrong about it though, you just found the way he dabs the napkin on his mouth and the way he munches food so quietly, fascinating.

A glut of silence enwrapped the air around you. It could literally suffocate you, so with all your might, you tried to talk to him.

“Why did you let me come with you?” You have no idea why did you ask such questions, but Jaehyun only looked at you as if he’s had any choice.

“Johnny requested,” His curt answer.

“Johnny’s birthday must be so special. You even took your time to celebrate it with him.” When he does not answer, you continued your talking, “How about you? When’s your birthday?”

By your question, Jaehyun dropped his fork on his plate, creating a loud clatter to make the other hotel guests turn on the both of you. But he quickly regained his composure, giving a curt nod to everyone as a way of excuse.

“I don’t— it’s next month. 14th.” His laconic response.

“Okay…” You said, wary of his sudden lack of control.

“Excuse me,” He said, pushing his chair with the back of his knees. You nodded at him. But even after finishing your meal, Jaehyun did not go back to finish his.

You went back on your room calculating if you’d said something to irk Jaehyun. He wasn’t exactly annoyed, just taken aback? Nevertheless, you’ve gathered one information about him, and that’s his birthday. You no longer want to vex yourself by his constant berating, you thought knowing something about him would help pave the way of your bond.

While thinking about what could you give Jaehyun on his birthday, you wrapped the canvas you’d give Johnny tomorrow. After ten-minutes of cutting and ribbon-tying, you changed into new clothes and slept, a smile creeping up your face as you think about the event tomorrow.

—

Spectacular is an understatement to describe the Guildhall. Its chandelier hang high in the ceilings, with curtains draping down around them and with lights illuminating their color against the columns standing as posts of the whole hall.

Tables are decorated with a sophisticated yet manly touch. You assumed Johnny requested for a medieval touch to adorn the venue, which the organizers did an absolutely amazing job on. You feel like you were back the past. The period movies you’ve seen and books you’ve read all coming back to you— every scene and every word you thought won’t come to life is here, in front of you. The overwhelming happiness sits on your stomach, waiting to be unleashed.

“Y/N!” Chaelin waved, then she walked towards you with a wine glass in one hand. Jaehyun excused himself the moment Chaelin arrived beside you. He walked towards a pool of boys gathering around Johnny. Someone clapped his back, a man his age. But the younger ones nodded at him, reverence clear in their faces.

“You look stunning, Chaelin.” You greeted. The woman is wearing a velvet dress, hugging her curves, with a fur scarf wrapped around her arms.

“No, you look magnificent, love!” She cheered, pulling your hand and swirling you playfully, both your laughs joining together.

You’re wearing a tulle long dress, a mixture of champagne and blue fabrics adorning it. The stiletto you wear goes with the same hue as the dress. To be honest, you felt slightly out of place when you arrived, for the people around you wears monotone colors only. And you obviously stand out. But now Chaelin is here, you felt the pressure being lifted off of you.

The event started when Johnny went on to the platform, thanking each and everyone of the guess for joining him on his day. The bellows and laughters of his friends stood out among the crowd, their cheers slightly distracting Johnny. Your eyes automatically searched for Jaehyun, despite not screaming with the other boys, he has an unusual and once in a lifetime smile on his lips which made him more handsome that he already is.

He wears a simple black tuxedo, with his hair neatly parted and brushed up, a cowlick straying on his forehead. The color of his suit accentuated his pale features, making him ethereal in your eyes once again. He shifted, and met your eyes in the crowd.

His beauty locked you in your place with a heart thudding as you continued staring at him. He lifted his glass with a curt nod, a silent sign for you to enjoy the night. The small gesture made your heart swell in happiness even more, so you smiled at him. And he smiled back.

The evening moved on. You remained in your location, Chaelin giving you company. Johnny’s still walking around the venue, greeting acquaintances. And Jaehyun, he’s still talking with his friends.

“Aren’t you friends with them?” You suddenly asked Chaelin. She whirled at you before taking a sip of her drinks. Then she looked at the men surrounding Jaehyun in a sideway glance.

“Oh yes. Been friends with them for a really long time now. I’ve seen some of them grow up into the man they are today.” There was passion and love in her voice that you didn’t expect to hear. “That boy is Jeno,” She pointed at a boy with the warmest eyesmile, “We’re probably the closest, aside from Jaehyun. I adore that pup, quiet but knows when to enjoy.” She has that certain smile with her now, her eyes twinkling. Then she pulled you towards the boys suddenly.

“Let’s meet them!” She cheered. Although you were nervous in every step that you took, you let her sway you towards the men. Jaehyun met your eyes the moment you stood in front of them.

“Who’s this pretty lady?” A tall guy emerged from nowhere, bright smile directed at you. He was nudged by a smaller man.

“Jaehyun’s date,”— then he whirled towards you, offering his hands for a handshake— “I’m Ten.” You took his hand, expecting for a handshake, but instead he kissed it. Loud cheers emerged from the group, making you blush.

All of them shook your hands then, and you noticed they were glancing at Jaehyun as they did so, like they’re waiting for his permission.

“You must be Y/N?” The guy with a red hair emerged from nowhere. You slightly jump from his appearance; red hair, pale features, and his eyes, there’s a little red in his irises. Jesus Christ, he was beautiful.

“I’m Taeyong,” He offered his hand, then you shook it, still mesmerized by his exquisiteness. Taeyong, then, started to entertain you with his stories, never leaving your side until people started to slow dance in the middle of the hall. He excused himself then walked towards a pretty woman. You watched as almost everyone danced. Chaelin was with a boy you remembered named Doyoung. Seeing everyone enjoying themselves, it felt lonely suddenly. Out of place, even.

Then for the third time that night, Jaehyun met your eyes across the room. He’s got a wine glass in his hand while looking at you. Then seconds later, he drank all the contents, leaving the glass to the care of the waitress. Jaehyun walked towards you, every step making your heart beat louder, faster. He walked the earth like he’s a king. His mere steps could make the world stop on its spinning.

Then he’s standing before you, offering you his hand.

“Are you gonna dance with me or…?” He asked, the baritone of his voice sending you shivers. You locked eyes with him then took his hand. His eyes, never leaving yours too.

The slow music lulls the whole place with its softness. Jaehyun held your hip in one hand, and your hand in the other. Your heart maybe thundering, but deep in it, you know you’re in the safe place. You’ve never felt like this your whole life— like you’re becoming something other than the girl you are. There’s an ember inside you as you looked at Jaehyun’s eyes. A small fire waiting to be ignited. His familiar scent whiffed your nose as he spins you away and towards him. The familiarity of his face is staggering, yet you blame your dreams for it.

Your faces were too close, so close in the edge of the music. One push, and you’ll kiss in front of the people. One push it all it takes— then the music stopped. You held on to each other for a bit longer before Jaehyun guided you towards your table.

“I’ll get us drinks,” He whispered.

Your head was still swimming with the feel of dancing of Jaehyun when Johnny approached you, eyes bright. He automatically has his hand lifted for a high-five.

“Hey!” He called out.

“Happy birthday, Mr. Seo!”

“Please, just Johnny Y/N.”

You practiced the name with your mind before saying it out loud, “Happy birthday, Johnny!”

“There! Better!” He laughed but stopped when he saw the wrapped gift above your table, “Is that for me?”

“Uh, yes. I’m sorry this is all I could afford.”

“No, no, Y/N! Whatever is this, I’ll cherish it.” He smiled at you, “What is it by the way? You know, I really get too giddy whenever I receive gifts.”

“Oh, a portrait of you.”

His mouth formed a big ‘O’, asking for permission to open the gift, you told him yes since it’s his now. Johnny’s eyes bore an amazement that made you flustered. He stared and stared at the portrait.

“Wow, I am really touched, Y/N. Thank you for this.” Said he. You waved your hand to tell him it’s alright.

But then his eyebrows creased, his face shows an expression that of remembering something. Then he put his finger on his lips, contemplating the portrait.

“I know someone who had a similar art style as you,”

“Really? Who is he?”

You waited for Johnny to answer, an unfamiliar agitation rests in your bones by every second that passes of not knowing who the person might be. Then he snapped his fingers, creating a sound.

“Yes! I remember now! You have the same style as Aurora!”

If Johnny could clap, he absolutely would. You sat there, speechless. His other compliments were drowned by your screaming thoughts.

Aurora.

He said your art style is similar to Aurora’s.

Whoever she might really be, the mention of her name— specially in real life— never failed to send shivers down your spine.

You gulped and asked Johnny, “Who is Aurora?”

“None of your business,” The man behind you answered. Jaehyun.

You wanted to tell him she’s not ‘none of your business’. She was a product of your imagination, she was. And now the people around you knows her name. Johnny knows her. Jaehyun calls out for her name in your dreams. Your intuition tells you something is going on. But your throat has gone dry. No matter how much you wanted to tell Jaehyun that you dreamed about Aurora often, no words came out of your mouth. Your body feels heavy. And you know, you’re scared. Scared of the answers once you ask.

Aside from night black hair and blue eyes, who really are you, Aurora?

—

[saturnsstufff]

Yo so on youtube you can search up like tarot readings so I searched up tarot reader will I me famous cause you know why not??? And the fact that I got attacked so badly the first video like I didn't need to watch anymore tha video just set in stone my whole future like it said everything I've ever like thought about like it says ill blow up quickly but you'll get burnt out but like thats fine I'm always burnt out and then it went on to say that I should have like a back up career and like I've thought about this??? And they also said that I will help people with whatever I do and that makes me really happy also I kinda wanna like honor greek gods like not worship or anything just have like a altar cause I think they're cool I wanna have athena and nike and this works well cause like they're best friends,,, and like nike is the goddess of victory in war a competitive stuff so she can guide me and like athena is really intelligent and stuff so yeah

-♦️

Idk why but i never thought much on the yt tarot readings. If i want a reading usally I'll just pull my cards out and do one. Idk alot about the yt ones but I know you have to have your energy and intentions within them (if im wrong someone please correct me).

Idk, id say try youtube/being a cc. Your very passionate about it and i have hope you will get big.

But it is good to have a backup career

[missjosie27]

Prompt Response #40- Ethren Whitecross

“Would it really be a crime to let yourself have some fun once in a while?”

The first in the responses for the prompts. I will say in advance that not all of this may make sense or appear ‘canon’. It’s also a sequel to ‘The Other World’ a story I wrote awhile back in honor of Ethren Whitecross. What first started out as a fun concept between two MCs, I turned into this for better or worse. And it was tough at times emotionally. But I poured my heart and soul into it. It is also non-canon and completely AU. That being said, I do love the multiverse and this was a great way to explore that.

@hogwartsmysterystory​ My friend. This is for you. And for Ethren. I hope you like it.

It had taken many moons for David Grant to achieve what was previously thought to impossible: the ability to hop dimensions at will. Since the end of the war and his mind blowing foray into the universe that housed another curse breaker, the twenty five year old not only joined the Department of Mysteries part time in addition to being reinstated as an Auror but began exploring the power of the veil for more timelines.

It was partially due to self interest, which his boss Croaker didn’t need to know about. Happy to further the Department’s investigations of the unknown magical branches, the experience of visiting another world had touched him so deeply David resolved to do more investigating: specifically if there were any other scenarios involving Ethren Whitecross in which he did not die. Despite technically never meeting the American, he already felt a sense of kinship with him, a kind of surreal connection one couldn’t explain in so many words.

He deserved better...so much better

Many months passed, but at last David was able to tinker with the magical properties of the veil so that it revealed a wondrous discovery: the cosmos was damn well infinite. Billions of people making billions of choices creating infinite earths. And it didn’t take long for him to discover a timeline in which Ethren was still alive and in Hogwarts.

“Hang on, mate. I’m coming,” he said as he stepped through, making sure his protections were sufficient to protect him from the other realm the veil lead to: death.

Of course, David had never actually met Ethren for obvious reasons and so had no idea what to expect from him. The only aspects of his life he knew for certain were that he was American, died in the war, engaged in a relationship with Merula and unknowingly had a son in the process. The other timeline’s Merula had given him more grisly details, but nothing so specific as to his personality, likes, dislikes, or anything else.

As it turned out, much to his chagrin, Ethren Whitecross was a bit sour to say the least.

He was short for a male, only 5’6 but with intense, clear blue eyes to go along with caramel brown hair and conventionally attractive features. He wasn’t terribly athletic but could swing a beater’s bat well enough. Similar to himself however, Ethren was a top notch dueler and excelled in the subjects he genuinely enjoyed, but struggling in those he did not care for. However, his less than sunny disposition was certainly off putting and it didn’t take long to figure out why.

“So let me get this straight,” Ethren said skeptically as they lay on the shores of the lake at Hogwarts. “You’re from another universe where my family never existed and in my universe your family never existed. Like me, you’re an amateur cursebreaker, date Merula, and apparently need to warn me about my impending death? Do I have everything correctly?”

“Uh, yeah that pretty much sums it up,” came the response.

Unfortunately for David, he had stumbled into a timeline where Ethren was completing his 7th year at Hogwarts as opposed to being a full grown adult. But it was just as well, finding Ethren was easy given his reputation. Getting him to believe his story was quite another debacle altogether.

“Well, guess what, you’re a bit too late. I already know I’m dying from my blood malediction and that R still wants to kill me. By the way, thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. A paper cut with lemon juice would have sufficed.”

He got up to leave but David moved to stop him.

“Wait, wait, hear me out. I can explain everything in a bit more detail.”

“Or I could go back to the library and read.”

David scoffed.

“More like you would brood all day.”

Ethren flushed from indignation.

“And how would you know that?”

“Believe me, I know enough...look I’m just trying to help.”

“My cranky on and off girlfriend is a bigger help than you’re being right now and that’s saying something.”

David took a breath of the evening Scotland air and breathed out. He should have known it wouldn’t be this easy, but that last statement left an uneasy sensation in his stomach. He remembered vividly a drunken twenty six year old Merula wanted by the law while drowning herself in vodka tonics and narcissistic self loathing. He was beginning to see just how much of an emotional toll she was taking on the poor lad. So he decided to switch gears.

“Look, I have an idea. Classes are done for the day right, you’re a legal wizarding adult...come hang out with me for a couple hours.”

“I can’t leave Hogwarts,” Ethren shot back.

“Right, since when did Dumbledore’s rules ever stop us from leaving whenever we wanted?”

“Point taken but still no.”

“By God, Would it really be a crime to let yourself have fun once in a while?” David half laughed in amazement. “Trust me, let’s go have a good time and I’ll explain everything afterwards, alright?”

He didn’t think it would work given the clear suspicion still lurking in those blue eyes but to his surprise, Ethren relented and nodded.

“Fine.”

“You can apparate right?”

“Yes and I can also blow you to smithereens if you try anything funny.”

“You know part of me does want to know what would happen if we ever dueled,” David grinned. “However, I went through a war mate. Got a bit of a head start on ya.”

“Fantastic.”

“And here I thought we Brits were the uptight and sarcastic ones. Aren’t Yanks supposed to be expressive?”

Ethren simply snorted and walked past him into the open field.

“Be thankful I’m saying anything at all.”

The two young men walked until they reached the boundaries of the school just beyond the entrance, David leading the way.

“Follow my lead,” he said. “Unless you can’t keep up,” he added teasingly.

“Just go,” came the grumpy response.

Bollocks, this is going to be harder than I thought David mused to himself with exasperation

And with a loud *pop they apparated into the sunset.

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

It didn’t take long for the two to land in random cobblestone street with Ethren keeling over, grimacing severely.

“Yeah I hate apparation too,” David said, pulling out a flask and taking a sip. “You get used to it.”

“I only recently passed.”

“Fair. Which is why where I’m taking you next will simultaneously relieve that discomfort and get you to loosen up.”

Ethren looked up and saw a wooden sign in maroon lettering which read the words ‘The Mayfair.’

“A bar?”

“Never underestimate the value of a pub,” David told him sagely. And before the younger lad could object he pushed him inside the door.

Inside was a setting not altogether spectacular. There was a small dining area, a large bar that spanned about fifty feet with two bulky TVs that currently were playing the latest football matches. However there was also a small staging area that contained a microphone with another TV sitting overhead. A sizable crowd graced its floors- a hodgepodge of young professionals, crusty regulars, football fans, and those who were just looking for a good time. Which was precisely why they were there.

In his time after Hogwarts and during the war David found that muggle bars offered a lot more in terms of entertainment and alcohol: a primary factor in why he chose a casual London pub as opposed to a place like the Leaky Cauldron. Muggles also tended to write better music which was also key to this night.

“It’s a good thing we aren’t in robes,” Ethren said above the general chatter of the pub.

“I made sure your classes were over before we came here,” David replied. His own dress was unremarkable: brown leather boots, jeans, jacket, and a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt (they were the most popular band in the world in the late eighties/early nineties after all). They fit right in.

David dragged Ethren over to the counter and caught the attention of the barkeep, knowing full well that in England you never got carded for ID as they did in America.

“Two Guinnesses please.”

“You got it.”

He flipped a couple of pounds and soon enough was presented with two full tankards of the dark stout.

“Cheers, mate,” David told him, clinking his glass with Ethren’s.

The twenty five year old relished the taste but clearly his counterpart did not, grimacing as though he had swallowed stinksap.

“Dear God that’s awful. Why do you drink this stuff?”

“Keep sipping and you’ll find out,” came the cheeky reply.

Ethren merely shrugged and did his best to keep drinking. David peered around and saw the exact person he wanted to see: the DJ.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

For his part, Ethren Whitecross was highly confused by this whole affair. He still wasn’t sure he believed that this person, whoever they were, was supposedly a dimension traveler who’d apparently met another version of himself by accident. It was just too insane to believe. And yet somehow he knew details about his life that no one else popping up like that could know.

And now he wants to just drink our night away at a bar? What is this guy about?

Indeed, that appeared to be the most intriguing aspect of this. David Grant apparently not only came back to warn him but to spend time together as if they were old friends. Ethren wasn’t sure how he felt about that just yet given that R was still after him however this fellow didn’t appear to be unseemly...yet anyway. For now, he decided to keep drinking the beer, which oddly enough began to make him feel a bit warm and fuzzy in the head.

Soon enough David returned a big grin on his face.

“Finish that up soon. We’re on next.”

“Next for what?” Ethren asked, utterly nonplussed.

“My friend you are about to experience the wonders of karaoke.”

“Kara-what?”

David laughed, deep and true then drained his beer in one gulp.

“You’re about to find out.”

Ethren found himself dragged away to the staging area where they were handed two microphones and a pair of spotlights shone down on them.

“Should have asked this beforehand but how familiar are you with muggle music?”

“Umm not very?” came the unenthusiastic answer.

“Do you know ‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel?”

Ethren nodded. His father kept a collection of old muggle records at home and that was a song played quite frequently sometimes to his chagrin.

“Yeah, I know that one.”

“Smashing. We’ll be just fine.”

The crowd started to cheer as the opening piano chords began to play. Ethren squirmed uncomfortably but David put a strong hand around his shoulder and began to sing in earnest. There was no backing out now.

“It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday

The regular crowd shuffles in

There’s an old man sitting next to me

Making love to his tonic and gin”

Ethren had to admit that this stranger sang well, but he wasn’t so much of a musician himself. But he had no choice as the microphone was pressed into his face.

“He said son can you play me a melody

I’m not really sure how it goes

But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete

When I wore a younger man’s clothes”

The young Gryffindor understood better why the beer was necessary. One drink already had him buzzing but it sure loosened inhibitions. Slowly he began to enjoy himself as he belted the chorus alongside David.

“Sing us the the song, you’re the piano man

Sing us the song, tonight

Well we’re all in the mood for a melody

And you got us feeling alright”

To Ethren’s amazement the crowd began cheering despite the fact his pitch was probably way off. Apparently it didn't matter how good or bad you were at actualling singing, enthusiasm for the song and the camaraderie of the patrons was enough to send everyone into a frenzy. Feeding off that energy, the two young men sang into the Scotland night, following the lyrics with gusto.

“Sing us the song, you’re the piano man

Sing us the song, tonight

Well we’re all in the mood for a melody

And you got us feeling alright”

The last of the harmonica sounded off into the exit riff of the piano and the song was over. Ethren could hardly believe it ended so fast, but the cheers of the crowd were practically deafening. Indeed the feeling was so exhilarating, he almost didn’t notice the shadowed face of his counterpart, lines of worry practically melting off his face.

Perhaps he wasn’t the only cursebreaker that had problems.

Afterwards, the two sat down and drank a few more beers, which were on the house due to their riveting performance. Several regulars gave them cheers and pats on the back. The two chatted about a number of things, but it wasn’t until they stepped outside for a breath of fresh air that the conversation turned honest and even somber.

David lit a cigarette and took a long inhale before issuing smoke.

“Told ya I knew how to have fun.”

“Maybe I wasn’t the only one in need of it,” Ethren observed astutely.

The older man shrugged but tried to play it cool.

“I’ve been through…a lot,” he said simply. “Moments like the one in the bar are the kind that kept me going over the years. It’s what makes life so wonderful even when it’s not.”

Ethren paused before asking.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty five to be exact. Twenty six in four months.”

“You look five years beyond that.”

It was blunt but David knew by now Ethren didn’t pull punches. He could relate to that. Neither did he.

“I didn’t come back merely to warn you about your malediction, Ethren,” he said quietly. “You beat that.”

“So...I die another way?”

David swallowed, feeling a lump pop up in his throat. Now was not the time to get super emotional. He needed to tell the truth.

“You have a relationship with Merula just as I do, yeah?”

“I do. Though I can’t say it’s always a happy one. We either bicker or just end up making out half the time.”

The older man chuckled sardonically, knowing full well what his wife was like when she was sixteen.

“Sounds about right. Believe me, I know how she is sometimes.”

“You’re at least eight years older than I am right now….what happened with you and her?”

David knew this was the moment he came back for. The essence of his visit.

“We married after Hogwarts. During the war, she was kidnapped by her parents and placed under the imperius curse. I was able to free her during the Battle of Hogwarts.”

Ethren’s eyes were practically popping out of their sockets.

“Wait, wait back up. There’s a war? Merula becomes a Death Eater?”

“Let me explain,” David said, raising his hands in the air whilst also flicking his cigarette. “Yes, You Know Who will return in four years time and begin a new war against the Ministry. And no, my wife did not become a Death Eater. She was shanghaied against her will. At that point in her life, she wanted nothing to do with her parents. Can you say the same for yours?”

Ethren’s head was practically spinning at this newfound revelation. He felt a desperate need to sit down but remained standing, running a hand through his caramel locks.

“She...she would never.”

“If you believe that, you’re wrong. If Merula doesn’t break off her toxic relationship with her parents, she’ll go right back to them once they’re freed from Azkaban.”

Denial morphed into pain as the younger man shook his head.

“Why...why would she do that?”

“You know as well as I do how badly she wants their approval and how it affects her judgement. My Merula made the right choice, but I also helped her to see what kind of path she was heading in. You must do the same.”

“And what happens if I don’t?”

In a reversal of moods, David’s hazel blue eyes bore into Ethren’s crystal blue ones, hardening with each passing second, though there was still tremendous sympathy.

“I will not lie, however the answer will be difficult for you to hear. You will each find yourself on the opposite side of the coming conflict and Merula will realize her error far too late. In the end, you will sacrifice your life for hers during a great battle. And as a result, a son will never know his father.”

Tears were forming into Ethren’s eyes and David was trying his best not to do the same though it was becoming increasingly difficult.

“W-what...what should I do?”

“Guide her,” David responded softly. “Show her that there is a better way to happiness than simply attaining power. Help her to see that she can trust people unconditionally and that those people are not her parents….especially her mother,” he added with a heavy hint of disgust.

“I don’t know if I can,” the teenage Gryffindor said, his voice still wavering. “She won’t listen to me. She never has.”

“She will. I guarantee it.”

David stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Ethren, embracing him in a hug while silent tears fell from his eyes.

“You can do it, Ethren. I’ve seen war, I’ve seen death, and I’ve seen a world where a family was ended before it began. Trust me when I say this, you and Merula Snyde are meant for each other for better or worse. And if I can do my part to ensure you end up happy instead of six feet under, I damn well won’t hesitate.”

They broke apart with both men wiping their eyes.

“Bloody alcohol,” David joked.

“I think I’ll hold off on any more beers.”

The older man placed a hand on Ethren’s shoulder though this time he did not hug him but instead gave a final guiding message.

“I made a promise to thank you for what you did for my wife and to honor your memory. This way, I can do both. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Now go break your malediction, defeat R, and live the life you deserve.”

Ethren nodded, finally gaining back control of his emotions but also feeling a deeper sense of purpose as well as gratitude to this stranger.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” he said somewhat lamely, cursing his lack of ability to express his feelings properly.

“You’ll never have to,” David responded kindly. “Consider it a favor from one friend to another.”

He released Ethren’s shoulder and nodded with a smile.

“Now let’s get you back to Hogwarts. If memory serves, I believe curfew should be soon. Don’t want Snape catching you out of bed.”

Ethren gave a smile of his own.

“Since when has Dumbledore’s rules stopped us?”

David laughed one more time before they disapparated with a small *pop.

“Never.”

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

Merula Snyde did not like feeling guilty. It was a useless emotion better left for fools who believed in sentimentality and other such nonsense. But when it came to one special boy, her heart could not help serve as a constant reminder of how much she mistreated him. Such as their fight from earlier that morning.

Working late into the night in the library, the ambitious Slytherin had poured through book after book and page after page in order to see if there was anything about maledictions they hadn’t already discovered or knew about thus far. In a sense, it was her attachment to Whitecross and their past experiences together that drove her to do as she did. There was no need to say that you cared, that’s what saving him from his blood curse was for. Even so, the young Slytherin couldn’t avoid the guilt or her memories.

“Why do you do this?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Whitecross. Spit it out.”

The Gryffindor clenched his fists but then let out a sigh and then unclenched them as they stood outside in the corridor near Charms.

“You claim you’re on my side but not once do you ever take responsibility for your own shortcomings. Nothing is ever your fault or a bad idea. Is it your job in life to torture me?”

Merula snorted as she dismissed him yet again.

“You torture yourself enough all on your own. If there was a shred of common sense in that empty head of yours, you’d acknowledge that you don’t have the bollocks to take out R same as it was with Rakepick. I’m not going to apologize for speaking the truth.”

Ethren usually swept aside her barbs no problem but this one appeared to hit home in a way her usual ones did not. He took her hand in his.

“Merula, I don’t know that I can call you my girlfriend anymore...I’m not sure what we are. But...those feelings we have won’t just go away. Why can’t you just at least pretend you care about me?”

But his appeal to her better senses fell flat as she withdrew her hand and gave a hard stare with her vivid, violet eyes.

“If you want a hug, Whitecross go to Haywood. Don’t waste my time.”

And without another word, she spun around in her combat boots and walked off not bothering to see the pained reaction on his face.

Merula clenched her jaw as the remorse became almost overwhelming. Why? Why was she like this? It wouldn’t kill her to throw the poor blighter a bone now and then, right?

“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered aloud.

A second voice entered her mind, one that was hauntingly familiar.

You should know better. There are no such things as happy endings. The only person anyone can rely on is themselves….

The voice became disturbingly soothing.

You’re special my little blackbird. I will always love you

Merula resisted the urge to cry as she planted her face on one of the many books layed out in front of her. She did not care if Madam Pince yelled at her for staying too late. Wallowing within her inner demons outweighed any potential punishment.

“I never realized the true depth of your self loathing narcissism until much later in life,” spoke a voice. It frightened her so much, that she jumped at least a foot in the air and wheeled around, wand in hand.

Standing by the window of the library was a young man, light beard, longish brown hair, tall, wearing a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, brown boots, and a dark cloak. He wore his hoodie up and so could not see the face clearly. Nevertheless, she kept her wand trained on him.

“Who are you and what do you want? I promise I’m the last witch you want to mess with,” she snarled.

“My identity is inconsequential. As for what I want, I only wish to impart a gift.”

Merula did not believe a word of what this stranger said and had half a mind to hex him if it wasn’t for the fact that damaging the library in such a manner was a bannable offense.

“Whatever the intentions, you picked a really bad spot. Don’t you know where you are? Madam Pince will disembowel anyone who mucks about in here...of course she won’t have the honor of doing so before I do.”

A condescending chuckle emanated from underneath the hood.

“I have a silencing charm and a protective ward around this area. We won’t be interrupted I assure you. In any case, what I have planned isn’t going to take long.”

The teenage Slytherin silently checked the magical energies around her and realized he was right. Those kinds of wards were only the kind powerful Aurors knew or worse. All of a sudden, real fear entered Merula’s bones though she did her best to hide it.

“W-What are you going to do? What is this?”

The figure did not move, only uttering a single sentence.

“The day you finally understand.”

He was too quick for her to react properly, so fast was the draw of his wand. There was an incantation she didn’t recognize and a jet of white light that struck her in the forehead.

A swarm of images flashed through Merula’s mind and she was forced to witness every single one of them: two teenagers triumphing over an evil organization, an emotional breakup, darkness arising in the British wizarding world, an escape from Azkaban, a young woman kneeling before the Dark Lord, a night of raw passion, the birth of a child, and finally the scene of a young man with an arrow lodged in his chest, a despondent woman in Death Eater robes sobbing over the lifeless body.

‘Ethren! Ethren! ETHREN! PLEASE! DON’T GO!!!’

Then just as quickly as they came the images were gone and so was the unknown figure. Only a reeling and emotionally fragile young woman who had only one thought on her mind.

“Ethren,” she breathed out.

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

The young Gryffindor teen was slightly annoyed as Jae told him someone was waiting outside the tower for him. Who on earth was so desperate to talk to him this late at night? Did they not have the password or some other such nonsense? He wasn’t in the mood for a prank.

As he stepped past the portrait of the Fat Lady, however, his questions were answered right away as a mess of brown hair with an orange tuft slammed into him.

“What the- Merula?”

“Ethren,” she whispered as she clung to him for dear life. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

Utterly shocked, Ethren separated himself ever so slightly, still holding her in arms and looked into beautiful, violet eyes; eyes that were swimming with tears.

“Sorry? For what?”

“For everything...I didn’t realize...I didn’t know…”

Words failed her as she pressed her lips against his. Ethren didn’t hold back, returning the passionate kiss, long and deep. Fireworks were exploding in his mind.

When they broke apart, he saw she was still crying but there was also the same determination that sparkled in the orbs he’d come to love for better or worse.

“Things are going to be different from now on...I promise. I love you,” she said.

Ethren traced a finger along her soft, porcelain cheek, taking in the small freckles that dotted her adorable nose. He’d never felt so amazing, so enamored with the girl in front of him.

“I love you, too.”

As they embraced once more, Ethren Whitecross couldn’t help but think of the man who’d changed his life in one fell swoop. The one who’d gotten him to simultaneously sing karaoke and drink Guinness on the most memorable night of his young life. He smiled as he took in the scent of cloves, nail polish...and something elusive.

Thank you, David Grant

[huntsman-ash]

RWBY V8E4 LiveThoughts

And were back at it again, this week with turkey and Italian preserved sausage as a snack! Lets see what RT has for us this week.

Oh, 20 minutes. Are they normally this long?

Oh, wait, the openings almost 2 minutes long. Thats more like it.

And now to Robyn and Qrow. Seems Robyns actually liking Qrow a little bit now. 

Guess the cells aren’t secured if a fly got into Schnee’s. This a “Fly on Mike Pence’s face” reference?

Qrow sounds more growly again. Did he get smacked back two seasons by Clover dying?

If by “darkness” you mean “Tyrian” then, yes. Also dude, its Clover. He was shit anyway. All the Aces are shit. Dont feel too bad about him.

And he’s got a point too. If Clover had thought with his head instead of his dick (yes, Im sure they were gonna fuck, Fair Games totally a thing), he probably wouldnt be dead now, and Tyrian would be the one with the sword through his chest.

But of course this is RWBY and V7/8 so things cant go their ways.

Ouch. Deep thoughts of Qrow. And some interesting stuff from Robyn too. I still think I’d prefer hopeandharmonizing’s Briar, though.

Marrows glare gives me life. Hare’s just a moron right now though, but thats no real surprise. She’s immature emotionally.  Honestly, shes...kind of like a less bad version of our current President. Always has to be the best at everything, fastest, leader, whatever.

Thats probably why this is grating on her so much. Even though shes TECHNICALLY the Ace’s leader now (I think? Seemed like she was Clovers lieutenant, so by rate of succession she’s in command now)

A glance at the little floating control pad... “Clerance access only”. Okay, that...seems weird. Shouldnt it say something like authorized personell only? Maybe it means access by clerance only or something.

Then Robyn’s name, and then process ID 4591-27. No idea what thats useful for but its there.

Also Marrow seems to be the only competent member of the Aces rn. 

Ah now we get to see some of the hills around Atlas. For those of you who have seen my headcanons on the Hunter-Killers and their base of operations, Fortress Academy, its out in these hills somewhere.

The music sounds like a boss fight.

The screen on Ren’s hoverbike reads “HVB Rhino” and “HD5800″ I can only assume HVB stands for “hoverbike” and Rhino must be its name, like how the dropships are Mantas. No clue what the number is. 

Also apparently the cold in Solitas is so bad it corrupts machinery?

Ahh, good, some action. Lets see what we get now. Ohh, teamwork. And again, signs that aura allows you to move faster and farther than a normal human

Heh, it really is like a boss fight, like the chase scene at the end of the first Viking level in For Honor.

Oh, and it can call for reenforcements literally out of nowhere? Or is the whole tundra of Solitas just CRAWLING with Grimm?

Yes, yes it did just call for backup, Yang. Maybe these are all forward scouts and ambush units from the Grimmstorm. They did say its the biggest...

Another banger from Casey Lee Williams...

What the hell happened in Solitas to cause this geography? Seriously, its a line of bridges over a gap in two cliffs...that cant be natrual, not that equal in distance.

Man, those bikes didnt even last half an episode...I guess thats fair, they are facing obsurd odds. Or maybe they just want Yang to be the only one with a bike.

And there goes the dropwall. Woops.

Also you can just kinda see it but they bounce off the rock and thats why they slow down. Useful.

Also this part with them falling off the edge reminds me of the ending cutscene of Halo 4s Forerunner level, where Chief flies out of a portal and almost goes sailing off a cliff in a Ghost.  Except here, the bike stays on the land and THEY go off the cliff.

I paused at just the right time cause YANGS FACE XD

Holy shit what are Ren’s weapons cables MADE OF? The one atop him is holding him AND the weight of his two teammates. And the one below has both Jaune and Yang. No sign of slippage or breackage at all. 

Ahhh there’s the whaleship (Monstra? Fuck it Im gonna keep calling it the whaleship). So yeah my headcanon now is the mountain its right next too is Menachite, where Fortress is. 

Oh hey back to the Schnee manor of all things! Does...this mean military invasion of the Schnee grounds. Hey Whitley. Lesbians are here. 

Someone make a video cut of Weiss banging on the door to the “Knock knock open up the door its real!” part of that one song.

Hehehehhe. Nice Weiss.

Also convenient about the house staff. Good thing RT doesnt need to animate them or Willow now...

I hope the staff took some of the silverware and some paintings on the way out.

Why is MAY the one carrying Nora.

Ah so now they’re stuck out there with no cell service. Hehe.

Ah okay so the cold in Solitas DOES eat aura. Good, my headcanon still kind of stands. 

I wonder, does wearing proper cold weather clothing (like bundled up stuff) help? Or does it cut right through...

Why is JAUNE the one hauling the bike? Isnt Yang the strongest? Or maybe they take turns.

Ahhh inter-team talking. Also, outpost. Hmm. Atlas one? Overrun if I had to guess. Unless he saw Fortress. Which I doubt.

I do love the circling shot here, with the light on Yang’s hair and the shadows on Ren. Its...really artistic and emotional. GREAT WORK RT. 

Rens got points. And hes saying stuff I myself have been saying for ages, which is good. I wonder why this is how Ren is now...working with the Ace Ops? Being afraid of loosing Nora? No one tell him what happened last episode.

Also, Jaune’s hair seems to have gotten less crazy in recent episodes. It looks less like a banana and more like a close tactical cut.

Yangs got a point.

Ahhh and now we get to see the inside of the whale. 

SALEM FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP SHOWING THE FUCK OFF. SERIOUSLY. WE GET IT. 

...this is gonna be a really criingy torture section, isnt it.

Someones gonna take that “hound didnt break you” line in the WRONG direction 

It is amusing the only thing holding Oscar down is the Hound actually. 

Ah so they’re still searching the remains of Beacon.

Also I like how Salem calls them “her forces” as if its anything but a random bunch of expendable monsters. Like, bruh, you cant search anything with THAT.

Ignoring the boring chat between these two, notice how the Hound’s shoulder literally flexes and shifts when Salem touched it. I dont think this thing is solid at all aside from the head and the bone claws...the whole thing is just amorphous Grimm material that can adapt to whatever situation it requires. A specialist unit. A...Hunter hunter.

Yo what the fuck was that. Magic? Huh. Did we actually SEE magic for once in the show? Only took us 8 FUCKING SEASONS...

Doesnt seem to be anything but an energy blast/pain never firing though. I assume his auras still gone, cause its completely singed his shirt, but it didnt do much else.

...Im not impressed.

She really needs to stop touching his face, its creeping me out.

HAHA SHE CANT DO IT HERSELF SHE HAS TO RELY ON HAZEL BEATING THE SHIT OUT OF HIM. I think we know where she stands now, doesnt she...say what you will about her letting Hazel have his vengeance (which is very valid, even he admits hit), but me? I think she A) cant actually beat up on Ozma herself because she still cares and B) shes almost out of magic too. Its weakened as the Gods have been gone and shes been forced to rely on the Grimm and on pawns. Basically, once she and Oz are both gone? That’s it for magic. Remnant will belong to the Grimm...and to technology. 

At which point without Oz around to hold them back Atlas is going to go fucking BONKERS and basically ensure the Grimm get pushed back into a corner and then finally permenantly STAMPED OUT.

More Whale insides. Seems like most of its empty grandious spaces. Or possibly muscle? Hard to tell. Either way theres a lot of open air in there...with tight corridors. If you fired a thermobaric warehead into one of the chambers the resulting blastc could possibly blow the doors off and send a raging fireball through the entire thing...Hmm. Filing that away for later.

NEO IS SO SHORT ITS FUNNY TO ME. I know its just positioning BUT SHE LOOKS EVEN SHORTER IN THIS SHOT THAN USUAL.

More note on the Hound; the “flesh” around its right shoulder spike actually sinks down when it stops moving. Its neck shifts and moves too, like the material isnt solid, but recirculating.

I also dont see any eyes. And it looks like it has some kind of...forehead mouth? Def looks like teeth down the ridge of its spine.

Oh boy yeah that...whole thing is basically melting in on itself.

I wont lie; hearing Cinder get berated by CORTANA (and yes, I still hear Cortana in Salem, espeically now that the two characters are kind of one and the same, both megalomaniacal leaders of giant armies, bar the fact that one of them is about a TRILLION times more dangerous than the other because one of them has access to Guardian Custodies and the other one is...well kind of lame and has to have beefy dudes beat up on small children etc) is pleasing to me. 

Get fucked, Cinder.

And THERE is Cortana again too.

Neo Marry Popins’s Ya’lling is fucking CUTE. And I love her little smirk.

Wait the whale’s that close?

..oh my...hold on.

...thats it. THATS ATLAS’S AIR FLEET!?!

12 AIRSHIPS? 12? EXCUSE ME!?

ARE YOU LEGITAMETLY TELLING ME THE BIGGEST MILITARY ON REMNANT HAS FEWER AIRSHIPS THAN THE SMALLEST NAVY ON EARTH HAS FRIGATES? YOUR FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT? THERE HAS TO BE MORE SOMEWHERE. THIS IS A JOKE, A STRAIGHT UP FUCKING JOKE.

...

No, thats...thats it. Thats Atlas’s airfleet. 12 tiny vessels. I swear it was bigger last season...

...HA! HAHA! HA! Oh, Ironwood, and Atlas as a whole...you deserve everything your about to get. I hope you die SCREAMING, and that when your bodies fall bleeding and shattered to Mantle, the people down there will realize that, no. You cant just assume Hunters will do all the work for you

THIS IS REMNANT. ITS KILL OR BE KILLED. YOU EITHER MAKE A FORCE POWERFUL ENOUGH THAT THE GRIMM RUN FROM YOU  OR YOU DIE INSTEAD. ATLAS FAILED. NOW THEY SUFFER.

Emerald stop simpin.

Also that is...the SHITTEST outpost...I have ever seen in my life. My overall thought process of Atlas is...sinking even LOWER than before. 

Though it seems more like a waystation. Bed, Dust, some dudes coat on it. Dead heater. Its probably a rest spot for Specialists out in the tundra.

Ren does the emo sit. Lol. Yang even says it. Brood himself to death.

Alright whats this now...something forcing itself out of the tundra?

And thats it for today! Cool ass concept art at the end there too. 

[thatringboy]

Good Deeds, Bad Feelings (Chpt 1)

Chapter one of my Vil/Idia fic is here for all of you to read! I hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think of it in the comments!

Chapter: 1/???

Words: 1,000

Summary: Life at NRC is about as calm as it can get. Azul Ashengrotto is carrying on about his day when the boyfriend of his best friend offers him an indecent proposal.

TW: Sex mentions, MLM Pairings, Cursing, Teen Angst

Ships: Vil x Idia

      The soft twinkle of the piano and the careful steps of the dancer were the only sounds in the studio. Vil took two quick steps and went up on his toes, balancing carefully. He raised his arms above his head and lowered them with grace. He spun three times and leaped. As soon as he landed, Vil knew something was wrong.

       Vil practically collapsed onto the ground with a quiet thud. He sat up and examined his left ankle, which now throbbed horribly. He attempted to stand back up, but stopped and winced. The classical music in the background continued while the queen of Pomfiore examined his current situation. He could either slide himself across the floor to his work out bag and grab his phone to call for help, or he could attempt to stand up again and hobble to the Nurse's Office. Either way, Vil's dignity would take a blow. He remembered that he hadn't shut the door to the dance studio all the way, meaning that someone could walk in and see him sprawled out on the floor.

       Vil went with the first option. He dug his palms into the wood and slid himself to his purple duffel bag and grabbed his phone. He stopped the music and looked through his contacts for someone who could discreetly take him to get help.

       "Vil-Senpai, is that you?" A melodic voice called from the door. Vil dropped his phone and spun his head around. Azul, the second year dorm head of Octavinelle, stood in the doorway with a concerned expression.

       "It's nothing." Vil flashed a smile. "Just taking a small break, that's all."

      "A break that caused you to drag yourself across the floor?" Azul leaned against the door frame. If he was in his dorm uniform, Vil had no doubt that he would have tipped his hat and chuckled. Azul stepped into the room and made his way to Vil, kneeling before his upperclassman. "Are you in need of assistance, Senpai?"

       Vil shook his head and made a move to stand up, but the throbbing in his ankle worsened. He grimaced and sat back down on the floor. "A word about this and I can ruin you, Ashengrotto."

       Azul smiled and held up his right hand. "Merman's honor."

      He slid off Vil's ballet slipper and examined the now swollen joint. "Tsk tsk tsk. I'm not a dancer, but I believe I can see what happened here. May I?"

       He lifted Vil's leg and gently pressed his thumbs into Vil's ankle. The third year raised his eyebrows. "How do you know how to do that? Rook is professionally trained and he takes a while to find the cause of the swelling."

       "I had to learn." Azul continued to massage Vil's ankle. "When I first came above water, I twisted my ankle every which way. I didn't have the natural grace that you do, Senpai. To make up for it, I taught myself how to massage the various joints on human legs. It's very useful when Floyd hurts himself when he dances or when Jade falls off a broom."

      Vil nodded. This was something new to him, why would a merman know how to massage legs? Vil supposed that the Octavinelle leaders would always keep him on his toes, pun intended. Vil's phone rang, an ID by the name of "Fire Hose" flashed across the screen. Azul saw the contact name and snorted, almost dropping Vil's foot.

       "Forgive me, Senpai, but do you have Idia-Senpai saved on your phone as 'Fire Hose'?" Azul pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

       Vil answered the call with a frown. "Yes, Idia?"

       Azul continued to work on Vil's ankle while the blonde man chatted away about homework.

       "Yes, I got the papers."

       "Yes, Idia, I will drop them off."

       "No, I didn't get the extra credit work. Why would I do that?"

       "No, Idia, you don't need to send a drone to get the papers, you dolt."

       "I'm sorry for calling you a dolt, I didn't mean it."

      Azul hummed to himself as he finished. "There you go, Vil-Senpai. Put some ice on it and the swelling should be down by your last class of the day. If I may recommend, you can stop by the Lounge later today to get a nice relaxing drink to sooth any pain you may feel."

       He helped Vil to his feet as he hung up on Idia. "Thank you, Azul, I must have a way to repay you."

       Azul thought for a second. He opened his mouth, but not before Vil stopped him. "No deals."

       "Alright then, how about I ask why you are dropping off Idia's homework in person?" His eyes had a devilish look.

       Vil huffed and put his weight on his good foot to pick up his bag. "Isn't that what friends do?"

      "Well seeing that I'm Idia's best friend, I do find this a bit peculiar. It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that Idia recently told me that he's ready to come out of the closet."

      The upperclassman's cheeks were tinted pink as he began to leave the dance studio. "That's none of your business, Azul." He said proudly. "Besides, I'm sure that you're already aware of the situation."

      Yes, Azul did know of Vil and Idia's relationship. The two third years had been together for a little over a year now, but it was probably one of the largest secrets at Night Raven College. Idia's infamous insecurities and Vil's iconic vanity didn't go together when you added on the fact that while Vil was openly Pansexual, Idia was so deep in the closet that he was in Narnia. And yet, to the surprise of the few who knew of this secret, they managed to stay together. If Azul was one for irony, he'd call it a magic miracle.

       Of course, irony always seemed to bite Azul in the ass in the worst possible ways.