#praying that anyone who sees this can take criticism better than me <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[kindlythevoid]

Me, upon receiving one (1) SORTA mean, maybe-off comment out of hundreds of super nice comments that I love, now staring for even MORE hours at the draft of the next chapter I need to write: Well, fuck. Now what? Also Me, .02 seconds later, gritting my teeth and strategizing: Well, I write this fanfic for me. This is my fanfic. People can think what they like. I will take this comment and use it to think of new ways to improve my writing, but I will not internalize it. I write this fanfic for me. This is my fanfic. People can think what they like. I will take this comment and use it to think of new ways to improve my writing, but I will not internalize it. I write this fanfic for ME. This is MY fanfic. People can think what they like--

[ashwhowrites]

Can you please write Older! Eddie x reader who is the daughter of Jason or Billy, and he has a lot of power in Hawkins, Reader hates how his dad is and she starts dating Eddie but her dad doesn't approve that, but she's older and she can decide for herself who to date? (Can you please do it angst to fluff?)

On my knees for older! Eddie fics. I hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it <3

I added a little bonus angst at the end but still a happy ending. Little bits of smut talk because I have no self control.

I'm writing this as my boyfriend watches Spencer Reid instead of me who's on face time (naked)

Trailer trash hero

⚠️mentions/action of abuse

Y/N hated that everyone in town associated her with her dad, Jason Carver. He was the mayor of Hawkins and Y/N did not fit the look that her family had.

She resented her father, he criticized everything she did and always demanded more from her. She was sick and tired of it. After one huge argument, she went out to the bar, her fake ID never failed her and she prayed it didn't fail her today. Even if it did, she knew the owner and could easily get herself in. She was almost twenty-one anyway. A few months barely made a difference. She was sick of living under her father's roof. She needed a drink to take off the edge.

She sat on the small stool and ordered a drink. She took her time to slip on it slowly as her eyes looked around the bar. Her eyes caught a pair of brown that were staring right at her.

That was the night she met Eddie Munson.

~~~

After that night, she couldn't stop thinking about the handsome older man who talked to her all night long. His strong jaw, aged eyes, and deep voice. She kept going back to that bar, praying he'd be there. And he always was.

It didn't take long for them to start flirting and going on dates. Texting through all hours of the night. He was older, and mature. She couldn't lie, it turned her on. She was tired of boys, but Eddie? He was a man. And he fucked her way better than she's ever had.

After a few months, it became more serious. She admitted she was only twenty and still lived at home, but he didn't care. They spent night after night at his house, rolling her eyes through the lecture of her parents when she came home the next morning. But nothing stopped her from doing it again and again.

"We've been going out for almost a year, don't you think I should meet your parents?" Eddie asked, his face nuzzled in her neck, his slight facial hair tickling her as he laid on her. Her hands played with his long hair and scratched his neck slightly.

"Eddie, I love you and I love everything about you. But they are going to hate you." She laughed, Eddie rolled his eyes and removed himself from her neck. Looking up at her with a small smile.

"Even if they do, at least I know I made the effort." He said, even though he was in his forties, he knew how to use his puppy eyes.

"I'm scared." She admitted quietly. Eddie turned his head confused, wrapping his arm around her.

"It's just, my dad...he has a lot of power in this shitty town and he could easily tear us apart. I love you and I don't want him to ruin this for us." She explained, Eddie watched as the tears welled in her eyes. He quickly sat up and took her head in his hands, pecking her lips softly.

"No one would ever keep me away from you. I love you and I'm not going to let anyone stop us, okay? Let's just try. And if it goes south, we don't worry about it. We'll do us."

Somehow Eddie convinced her and as she held his hand as they walked up to her front door, she regretted it.

"Hey, look at me. We'll do this together." He smiled, squeezing her hand as he knocked on the door.

"Just be polite." She warned.

As the door swung open, Eddie found himself looking in the past.

"Mom!" Y/N cheered, letting go of Eddie's hand as she wrapped her arms around her.

"Eddie!" Chrissy panicked, seeing the tall and older man over her daughter's shoulder.

"Chrissy, what a surprise," Eddie said, awkwardly scratching his head as he took her in. He was dating Chrissy's daughter, how the fuck did he get himself in this position.

"You know each other?" Y/N asked, looking between the two as they stared at each other.

"Yeah, he was a high school friend. What is he doing here?" Chrissy asked, praying he wasn't the guest Y/N asked to bring.

"He's my boyfriend, and he wanted to meet you guys," Y/N said, now feeling even more nervous about the situation. Her parents went to the same high school if Chrissy knew Eddie....her father did.

"I had no idea she was your daughter." Eddie clarified, holding his hands up in surrender as he cringed under Chrissy's familiar glare.

"He's going to murder you, Munson," Chrissy warned but welcomed him in. She always liked Eddie, but Jason was never a fan.

"Is he home yet?" Y/N asked, she knew this was a bad idea. Maybe they had time to run and hide.

"He's on his way. And he already is unhappy knowing you have a boyfriend that you spend the night with...and once he knows it's Eddie Munson that you are sleeping over with, he's going to flip. But I will try my best to keep him collected." Chrissy said. But she tried to treat him like he was just her daughter's boyfriend.

"Well I'll set up the table while you show Eddie around," Chrissy said, walking towards the kitchen. Smiling Eddie immediately reached for Y/N's hand as they began their tour of the house.

Y/N showed Eddie around, trying to cover the portraits of her on the wall.

"I am not surprised Chrissy put you in a beauty pageant, and I'm not surprised you won." Eddie laughed, looking at the small girl in the frame.

"Careful Eddie, that little girl is definitely underage." Y/N joked

"Yeah, but luckily this one isn't." He smirked, giving her ass a small smack when she turned. As they looked at more pictures and ended up in her bedroom, she was dying to ask.

"Did you get along with either of my parents?"

"Your mom was cool with me. But your dad hated me, and I'm sure that hasn't changed. He made my life hell." Eddie explained, and Y/N felt bad. She knew her father was a pain in the ass and it sucked to know he treated Eddie so poorly.

"Well, I hate him too. And honestly, I'm glad he's going to hate you. Because he'll forever have to live with the fact that his precious daughter is fucking the bad boy from his high school." Y/N smirked, crawling on his lap, her soft bed underneath them as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mhhm I agree," Eddie moaned as she sucked on his neck, "he's going to throw a little bitch fit. He thought I'd do nothing with my life. But seeing you with me, definitely proving him wrong."

"He's going to be rude and an ass. But don't let him get in your head. You're amazing, handsome, successful, and can achieve anything. Don't listen to him." She explained, moving away from his neck to kiss his lips.

"Definitely gonna listen to the one who will be sucking me off tonight." He smirked, his hand around her throat as he held her close to him. Kissing her hard as she moaned against him.

"Y/N!" Chrissy yelled from downstairs, Y/N pulled away from Eddie, kissing him softly, then moving off of his lap. She grabbed his hand and took a deep breath.

"Ready?" Eddie asked, kissing her forehead as she nodded.

"Mhhm, so is the hickey." She said smirking.

Y/N walked down the stairs, Eddie behind her as he followed close. The front door was empty so she walked into the kitchen. Her parents sat at the dining table as she walked up.

"Dad, this is Eddie. My boyfriend." She watched as her dad looked up, anger filling his eyes as he stood up.

"Jason, be nice," Chrissy warned but it was too late, Jason was already storming towards them. He harshly yanked Y/N away, her hand removed from Eddie's as she yelped. Eddie looked at her, but she nodded that she was fine. Her father's grip was tight on her wrist.

"Get the fuck out of my house, you freak," Jason growled, but Eddie stood his ground.

"Now Jason, is that any way to talk to a guest? Especially one that is your daughter's boyfriend?" Eddie teased, but his teasing only made Jason's grip become more bruising.

"You are not dating my daughter. I don't know what kind of sick game you are playing. But she isn't going to be your little game piece."

"I didn't even know she was your kid until I got here. This isn't some sick game of revenge. Y/N isn't a game piece. We are in a relationship, a committed and loving relationship. You aren't ruining this for us." Eddie explained, his eyes on Jason but flickering to his grip on Y/N.

"There isn't a relationship. She is never seeing you again. Y/N get upstairs, you are grounded." Jason barked, his eyes turning to her.

"Jason, calm down." Chrissy tried

"NO! I'm an adult and you can't ground me. I'm not breaking up with him!" Y/N argued, trying to yank her wrist away but his grip was too tight.

"YES YOU ARE! Get upstairs, NOW!" He screamed in her face. Eddie didn't like the way Y/N was shaking.

"Let go of her." Eddie barked, Jason's head snapped to him.

"You don't tell me what to do."

"You're hurting her, let her go," Eddie growled, moving closer slowly.

"DON'T COME NEAR US!" Jason's grip was somehow tightening.

"Dad, please. You're hurting me." Y/N pleaded, tears in her eyes as her wrist burned.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, his attention on her as he gripped her tighter. "I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! AND YOU NEVER RESPECT ME. YOU GO OUT TO BARS, SLEEPING WITH GOD KNOWS WHO. I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BE A SLUT!"

"I'M NOT! EDDIE IS THE ONLY GUY I'VE BEEN WITH SINCE HIGH SCHOOL!" she yelled back. Chrissy cried as she tried to scream for them to stop. She worriedly looked at Eddie, he was slowly moving closer.

"AND ONLY LOW-LIFE SLUTS HAVE EVER GONE OUT WITH TRAILER TRASH EDDIE MUNSON!"

"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM! HE ISN'T TRASH. HE'S A DAMN GOOD GUY, HE HAS HIS OWN COMPANY, AND HE HAS A BEAUTIFUL HOUSE. A HOUSE WHERE WE FUCK EVERYWHERE. HELL, WE EVEN FUCK IN PUB-"

The room fell silent when Jason's hand raised and went across Y/N's face. The loud smack echoed as Eddie raced to yank Jason away.

"NO DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE A DISRESPECTFUL SLUT! YOU DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT. AND YOU ARE BANNED FROM SEEING HIM! GET OFF OF ME!"

Y/N sobbed as she felt the heat on her cheek, embarrassed of the way her father reacted in front of her boyfriend. Chrissy raced to Eddie and Jason, trying to get them apart.

But Eddie wasn't calm, and he wasn't ever going to be calm around Jason. Eddie tackled Jason to the floor, his fist connecting with Jason's nose. Jason yelled in pain and punched Eddie back. The two were rolling around and landing punches on each other.

"JASON! STOP!" Chrissy begged, screaming as she tried to yank Jason's arm while he was on top of Eddie.

"Y/N HELP!" her mom screamed, Y/N quickly raced to them, and Jason tackled Eddie into the table, both crashing through the glass. Both groaned in pain, Y/N raced to Eddie's side, not caring about the glass as she kneeled right next to him.

His face was bloody, and bruising. She cupped his face as she ran her thumb over his skin. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." She sobbed, and Eddie groaned as he grabbed her hand.

"Baby, the glass. Careful." He moaned as he tried to shift. But his body ached everywhere.

Jason didn't take much of the fall since he landed on Eddie. Quickly rising to his feet he grabbed Y/N by her arm to drag her away. Her legs scraped against the class as she cried out in pain.

"I SAID DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!" Eddie screamed, all his adrenaline helping him race to his feet. Wrapping his arm around Jason's waist he threw them both to the ground. Eddie's hand wrapped around Jason's throat, squeezing as the anger rushed over his body.

"EDDIE! STOP!" Chrissy screamed, terrified as she shook but raced to Y/N. She carefully picked her up, but Y/N pushed her off. She used all her strength to race to Eddie.

"BABY! STOP! YOU'LL KILL HIM" she panicked. Eddie snapped his eyes to her, taking in her red cheek, with Jason's handprint, and her bloody legs as the cuts bled. It only angered him more.

"He hurt you" Eddie growled, squeezing Jason's neck harder as Jason clawed at his grip.

"I KNOW! I KNOW. BUT THINK! YOU'LL GET LOCKED UP IN PRISON!" Y/N tried to reason with him, slowly moving closer as she begged Eddie to let Jason go.

"Just like your dad" Jason choked out from under Eddie's grip. Eddie glared down at him but removed his hand. Jason gasped for air as he tried to shove Eddie off of him.

Eddie grabbed Jason by his shirt collar, nose to nose as he growled down at him. "I will never be like him. You are so lucky I love your daughter enough to not kill you right here, right now. If you ever touch her again, you won't be so lucky." Dropping Jason his head smacked against the floor, passing out.

Eddie stood up and Y/N raced into his arms. "I got you, baby" Eddie cooed as she sobbed into his chest. Her breathing was uneven as she panicked.

"I'm so sorry" Chrissy apologized, sobbing as she watched Eddie hold her daughter.

Eddie didn't say a word, carefully grabbing Y/N in his arms as he carried her to the door.

"EDDIE!" Chrissy yelled after them, but he kept going, opening the door as he carried her out. But Chrissy raced after them.

"PLEASE!" She screamed again. But Eddie ignored her, placing Y/N softly in his passenger seat. He buckled her and softly kissed her lips.

"Stay right here. I'm going to pack you a bag, we'll go to the hospital, and then we'll go to my house. Okay?" He said softly, she nodded as she rested her head against the seat.

Eddie shut the door and walked right into Chrissy. "Please, I just want to say goodbye." She begged.

"Did you let him do it before?" Eddie asked, his eyes dark as he looked down at her. Chrissy shook her head confused as she tried to look over his shoulder to see Y/N.

"Have you let him touch her before?" Eddie asked again, this time more demanding.

"No! He's never done that." Chrissy confirmed, Eddie sighed and let her go, racing into the house to pack Y/N's belongings. He grabbed everything he could, making sure he grabbed the things he heard her talk about the most and her favorite clothes.

By the time he made it out to his van, Chrissy was saying goodbye. Tears down her face as she kissed Y/N's head.

"I have to get her to the hospital," Eddie said as he threw the bags in the back. Chrissy nodded and stepped back, her hand grabbing Eddie's arm before he could leave.

"Take care of her, please."

"Always have and always will," Eddie promised, slamming the door shut. He started the van and took off towards the hospital.

"How are you feeling, baby?" He asked, looking over at her as she smiled at him.

"Told you it was a bad idea." She said, a teasing smile on her bruised face.

"...yeah. I should just always listen to you." He teased back, his soft hand landing on her thigh as he rubbed it softly.

"Listen to the one who's gonna suck you off." She repeated his words from earlier with a giggle.

"I love you." He said, smiling at her as he turned to get on the highway.

"I love you too, my hero." She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Eddie pulled up to the hospital, carrying her in as he explained the situation. The nurses and doctors worked on her as Eddie got checked out for his cuts and bruises. He waited impatiently until he was able to see her.

"You can see her now." Eddie raced into her room at the news, sitting beside her as he held her hand.

"I'm all good! A few stitches from the glass but otherwise we are good to go!" Eddie nodded and helped her stand up, making their way out to his van.

"Ready to go to my place?" He asked, opening the door as she slid in.

"Let's go home, Munson."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[trashyslashers]

Hey! I miss your writing! How are you doing??

Any way I can get Corey with a shy s/o? How would that start, with him being shy in the beginning of the movie??

Ahh this one was really cute to write, thank you!

As for your question, things have been very up and down lately, hence the slow release of writing. The death of one of my beloved pets, a health scare with a family member who was in extremely critical condition, recently adopting three new baby rats, issues at work, applying for new jobs, dealing with a lot of inner turmoil and, for lack of a better term, a major crisis in self identity and I guess a lot of questioning about my own personal beliefs, feelings about myself, my family, my life has.... left me feeling very beat down and just fucking exhausted lmao.

In better news, I'm really hoping to see Halloween Ends again here soon, so fingers crossed that it works out because I'm DYING to see Corey again, especially since I want to get a better grasp on him for writing as I still fear I write him OOC. But hey, he's new, I'm new to writing him, I'll get better with him.

Also I cannot remember what his bike looks like so pls pretend this would work even if it wouldn't </3

Thank you again! This came out a bit longer than intended.

Corey Cunningham x shy! s/o

You two are both shy - but in somewhat different ways, and it's honestly kind of cute how it worked out that way.

Much of Corey's shyness stems more so from how incredibly socially awkward he feels, at least initially. While after the babysitting incident he became incredibly anxious (sometimes bordering on fearful) when it came to interacting with the public due to the cruelty they'd often deal his way, a great deal of his shyness has more to do with him just not really being sure how to socialize with people without coming across as, what to him always felt, dorky.

Corey thinks your shyness is pretty damn adorable - which is funny because he thinks his own is unattractive. His own didn't actually bother him too much, at least not until you came along - y'know the saying "opposites attract", and he felt that he didn't have the charisma to attract you, or get you to open up beyond the timid waves or smiles you'd give his way whenever your eyes would meet briefly.

He's had his eye on you for awhile. Never, ever sure how to approach you given the fact that neither of you knew each other, and that he's typically so focused on his studies and educational goals that he'd worry you may not find much in common with him and, as a result of that as well as what he always viewed as his abysmal social skills and lack of charm, you'd end up losing any interest you may have had in him.

Truthfully, it takes until after that Halloween night for him to approach you, and it wasn't exactly something he planned. After what happened, he knew that you knew, and as a result he could only assume that like most others in Haddonfield, you wanted nothing to do with him, and he considered any potential for a relationship with you gone.

That was, until the day you were walking out of the same convenience store he was going in to. It was an incredibly brief, yet still so comically awkward encounter, that every night he spent thinking of it made his heart thump with both embarrassment but also a giddiness he hadn't felt before.

He, upon opening the door and realizing someone was heading out, kept his gaze mostly to the ground in the hopes that avoiding eye contact would save him any flak from anyone who recognized him as he held the door for whoever it was, praying that they'd just pass by and not give him any shit. He didn't even want a thanks - hell, he figured that if he didn't hold the door, it'd slam shut on whoever it was and then it was inevitable that they would say something to him.

"Thank y- " You'd started, and the moment he heard your voice his head shot up, and he couldn't determine if your words were cut short by his sudden movement or by the disgust you must've felt upon realizing it was him, of all people - yet that apprehension faded when you offered that sweet, timid smile that always made his heart flutter. "You're Corey, right? Thanks for the door - you didn't have to do that."

He spent weeks kicking himself over how terribly he stumbled over his attempt at saying both "You're welcome" and "It's no big deal" and instead said "You're no big deal". He was quick to correct himself, scoffing a painfully awkward chuckle and once again redirecting his eyes elsewhere "Shit, I meant... it's fine. You don't need to thank me, I wanted to. Yes, I'm Corey." And giving you your name in return to confirm that he did, in fact, know who you were too.

Much to both his relief but also embarrassment, you seemed to find his blunder more comical than you did anything else, and nodded. "Yeah, that's me." He could listen to that cute, quiet little laugh of yours for hours. You quickly excused yourself, wishing him a good night and a "see you around".

He wanted so desperately to believe that you were being genuine with your kindness, and he kept swearing to himself that he'd talk to you the next time he had the chance to. Opportunity after opportunity kept passing him by and he kept swearing that next time he'd do it, until one day when it was absolutely pouring rain, and apparently your usual method of transportation had fallen through and you had no choice but to walk in the downpour.

He was not about to let that happen, and taking the tiny surge of bravery he felt, he stopped his well-ridden bike close enough that you could hear him over the rain, but far enough that you, hopefully, didn't feel uncomfortable, and he offered you a ride.

It definitely was a spectacle - he didn't have his motorized bike yet, and his bike wasn't made for two people, so he had you take the seat, while he stood over the center bar to pedal. You had to place your hands on his sides to keep your balance, and had it not been for his concentration on getting you to your destination as quickly, yet as safely, as possible, he would've melted on the spot from your light touch.

The both of you actually laughed a bit over the ride to wherever it was you needed to go, and he felt a fair amount of any nervousness and shyness he felt around you melt off. The hard part, the how do I approach them without scaring them off? part was over with.

Once the two of you enter an established relationship, your shyness actually begins to bring out Corey's bolder, protective side. He'll speak up for you if you need him to (he absolutely will be the "excuse me, they asked for no pickles" one in the relationship if need be), he'll act as a literal barrier between you and someone if they're hassling you, he'll give you rides home if your shyness branches into the socially anxious territory (and even if it doesn't, he still prefers to give you rides home - the people in Haddonfield can be shitty and he does not trust many of them) - he can, and does, overcome his own struggles with shyness when it comes to you.

As things develop and he becomes bolder, and much more confident and charismatic, he absolutely loves to tease you a bit and get you a shy, flustered mess. Calling you goopy, silly pet names in private? Check. Wrapping an arm protectively around your shoulders in public? Done. Pressing quick kisses to your face in a crowded room when you think no one is looking? It's like a game to him.

Turn the tables on him a bit, if you're feeling playful. For awhile, even just calling him something like babe or honey is going to bring back that shy, at a loss for words, Corey that he was for the first initial few weeks of your relationship.

[alluringjae]

au cours de l’été - jjh

⤑ translation: over the summer

⤑ summary: this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 15.2k (so much for saying that i’ll be writing shorter stories)

⤑ genre: fluff, romance, smut | author!jaehyun, painter!reader, strangers to lovers!au, 50s-60s!au, summer love in france!au

⤑ warnings: me inserting some french phrases because I want to practice (feel free to correct me if I made mistakes, i’ll appreciate them), fictional interpretations of real-life people, explicit language, jaehyun being such a romantic pls im in tears, mentions and scenes of burnout (the worst)

⤑ playlist: everybody loves somebody by dean martin | c’est si bon by eartha kitt | it’s always you by chet baker | les yeux ouverts by emilie-claire barlow | a sunday kind of love by etta james | the most beautiful thing by bruno major | try again by jaehyun and d.ear (duh) | free love (dream edit) by honne | petite fleur by jill barber | plus je t’embrasse by blossom dearie | so this is love by ilene woods and mike douglas

⤑ author’s note: this was an idea that just came to me after pinterest kept recommending me poetic beauty/try again jaehyun, so here we are! i intended to write less than 5k words but sometimes plans don’t go as planned once you really invest in the story yet i’m really happy how this turned out!

the romantic exhilaration in my bones are off the charts because this is jaehyun we’re talking about lol enjoy!

⤑ masterlist

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism, or hellos!

3 juin 1957

The city life overstimulated your entire system, losing your brainpower and inspiration. Another exhibition that’ll feature your works with other influential painters was happening at the end of the year, and you had nothing prepared so far. You’ve crashed to the deep end of creative fatigue.

So you needed to get away again; somewhere quieter and surrounded by nature.

That’s why you ended up in the countryside down south, somewhere within Provence. It’s purely just for the summer, but extensions were okay as long you get back at least a month before the show. Filing that leave of absence at the studio you worked at was worth it.

You rented an apartment overlooking the marketplace, where the heart of the village was. After arranging things from your boxes and luggage the entire day, you found out that you lacked in the food department.  

So the succeeding day, the entire morning was spent on grocery shopping downstairs then stocking them inside your refrigerator, freezer, and pantry. Right after changing out of your pajamas into a flowy floral dress and sandals, you decided to bike to the bakery that locals suggested. A must-go place for newcomers, they all raved.

“Café des Étoiles Perdues.” (Café of Lost Stars.)

The clear chimes of the bell resounded through the small, cottage-like lobby as you entered inside. An old woman, whom you assumed was the owner, welcomed you openly.

“Oh la la, vous êtes belle! Vous vous appelez (Y/N), la nouvelle venue, n'est-ce pas?” (Oh la la, you’re beautiful. Your name is (Y/N), the newcomer, right?)

She complimented, making you shyly mutter your answer. Wiping off the flour from her apron, she introduced herself kindly.

“Je m’appelle Camille. Mes spécialités sont les macarons pisctaches et des croissants avec des amandes. Autre chose que tu aimes?” (I’m Camille. My specialties are the pistachio macarons and croissants with almonds. Is there anything else you like?)

“J'aime tout ce que vous suggères, Madame.” (I’d like anything that you suggest, Madame.)

A younger man, who went by Jaemin, was a part-timer barista who asked for your coffee order. As he directed you to the best seat of the café, which was outside overlooking the garden of blooming sunflowers, you pulled out your sketch pad so you could capture this dreamy view. It was nothing like you’ve ever seen in your life.

You’ve decided on a theme already for your exhibit thanks to your conversations with locals yesterday, which was related to freedom. After being chained to cities for so-called better living and financial standards, it’s actually how your inspiration to create squeezed the life out of you like a lemon. Although it was fun at first to see those tourist spots, it eventually got tiring.

Another matchstick to graze intensity through your bones was what you prayed for.

While you’re engaged in a rough sketch of the scenery, the dandy presence of a young man entered the café with his books. White shirt, red trousers with a matching beret, he sported freckles on his pale face. Despite visiting his favorite café numerously, Camille was overjoyed to see him and his serene smiles.

“Jaehyun! What brings you here?”

“Bonjour, Madame! I’m starving for your croissants because I ran out back home.”

“Not to worry! I’ll pack up some so you’re on your way.” She lightened him up like one of her kids, taking one of the bigger paper bags.

“No rush though, Madame. I’ll be reading and working here for a bit here.” Jaehyun affirmed, bringing it out his wallet and called out for Jaemin.

“Un café crème, s’il vous plait.” (One cup of cappuccino, please.)

Jaehyun’s usual chair was by the large window, overseeing the wide garden planted by the citizens of the village way before he was born. It was places like this he missed after moving to the city for his education and work’s sake. 

That’s the thing when you’re coming from a rich family; you don’t have much of say with what your parents order you to do. However, his recent request to stay in his childhood home (or mansion) again was fulfilled because he couldn’t search for what he needed in the cities anymore.

Jaehyun was a sucker for romance; an old romantic others would say. A lot of women mistook his kindness as flirting on many occasions, but ironically he just wasn’t looking for anyone yet. 

Starting as a novelist in the said genre based on real-life stories of people he met in Paris, Barcelona, London, and more, his stories were popular hits especially to young adults who aspire to find love one day.

However, traveling to the known places no longer felt fun as he got older. The stories he gathered were very similar, just in different languages. It took an enthusiastic dinner with his family, specifically his only older sister Krystal retelling fond stories from their younger years to get the idea of moving back for a bit. So consumed with the city life, he wanted to see things from another perspective.

What was the difference between a love story formed in the countryside than in the city?

It’s been a month since he arrived, but he didn’t hurry himself to do his research. He’s been reading books in his family library, revisiting monumental places, exploring around the village, and reconnecting with old friends as if he never left. 

Readjusting to his former life would make writing easier when he’s motivated enough to do it again. Besides, his books were profiting well enough to his taste; good enough for the next 10 years according to his personal accountant, Kim Jungwoo.

Jaehyun resumed reading this book his mother recommended him before he left. Entitled “Réessaye”, which was about a young man who reunites with his childhood sweetheart after his arranged marriage failed. After what she put her through, he’s hesitant whether to try again or let her go.

Jaehyun enjoyed reading books with realistic outlooks on love because he found them more meaningful, enlightening how exactly it makes you feel and do. Even if he enjoyed reading sappy, fairytale-like stories from time to time, he always returned to the real ones as they only displayed the truth.

That love isn’t always rainbows and sunshine, but something that can also break you especially if you go after the wrong person. This kind of mindset was how he toiled on his stories, which gained him a status outside of his unavoidable labels such as “the only striking son of the Jeong family” or “Valentine Boy”.

He diligently browsed through the climax, where the main male character confessed all his constrained emotions to his sweetheart. But it was until Jaemin pressed the bag of croissants in front of his face after placing down his childhood friend’s drink to disturb his peace.

“Reading again?” He taunted, snatching his book away and throwing the bag on Jaehyun’s lap. “When are you writing that book already? Everyone is practically dying for you to release something new again!”

Jaehyun flatly shook his head, drinking his coffee quietly. It’s not the first time anyone asked (or pressured) him about his next release, and it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “Not in the mood right now, Jaemin. Now off to work before Madame Camille scolds you again.”

“You’re just stalling because you have nothing to write, don’t you?” Jaemin cunningly expressed, raising a brow. He’s known to catch onto the people’s bs easily; the last person you’d want to say your secrets too and Jaehyun realized too late. Though lucky for him, Jaemin shut the topic down right away so he wouldn’t pop a vein.

“Sais-tu de la nouvelle venue dans le village, d'ailleurs?” (Do you know about the newcomer in the village, by the way?)

“Une nouvelle venue?” (A newcomer?)

Being stuck at his mansion recently, news about village affairs were now late to him. Jaemin’s finger discreetly pointed outside the window, pertaining to a young woman sat outside painting her view in front of her.

That would be you, shading all the flowers in bright colors.

Seeing a new face amazed Jaehyun, especially when she was almost someone right out of a book. In a neat bun with white daisies printed in her dress, she crossed her legs whilst continuing her movements. She bit her lower lip, frustrated over an accidental smudge she made and trying to fix it by blending it with another color. When she accomplished it, she swapped brushes. A thinner one, to outline the shapes of the flower. Her lips curved to a smile after finishing another one perfectly with the rest.

“Jaehyun?”

Jaemin snapped his fingers to his distracted friend, zoning out the window. Still something he hasn’t stop doing, he pondered. With a final snap, Jaehyun broke away from falling hard from his abstract. Jaemin calculated the problem so quickly, analyzing his friend breezily like his medical school requirements.

“Elle est splendide, n'est-ce pas?” (She’s gorgeous, right?)

“Elle ressemble à une personne décente.” (She looks like a decent person.)

Jaehyun pushed it aside, flipping back to the page where he stopped reading. Before Jaemin responded, the door chimed open again to alarm him that a new customer came in. He excused himself to his friend, warning him that this wasn’t the last time he’ll talk about the newcomer too.

Jaehyun nodded along, not taking his friend’s cheeky words so seriously. However, the final result you attempted to create tickled his curiosity, so he slyly peeked from his book to the window.

You’ve freed your hair down, victorious to have started your collection this early in your break. A fantastic start, you let the paint dry first and munch on the croissant that served as your reward. However, you ‘re quick to notice a manly figure glancing through the window. From the side, his brown eyes appeared lively even if his entire face was hidden by the book.

Réessaye by Mark Lee; he must be a romantic. Every person in your studio read it, excluding yourself. Painfully beautiful, they’d summarize it.

Daring to meet more people, you locked eye contact with him. He didn’t expect it, almost flipping from his chair. Bashfully, you waved him a hello to somewhat break the ice. However, it broke his composure, and suddenly, he scurried off with his things from the café.

Now, you got quite worried. You checked your tiny mirror if he saw anything unpleasant with you, but you’d say you look relatively fine. Oh, maybe you could redeem yourself the next time you saw him. After bidding goodbye to Camille and Jaemin, the latter chased after you when you prepared yourself on your bike.

“By any chance, did you say hi to a guy with brown eyes and a red beret?”

“Well, more like I waved at him, then he zoomed out. Did I do something wrong?” You questioned with concern, putting your hands on the handles.

“That’s my friend, who’s quite reserved with strangers. I’m sorry on his behalf.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You brushed it off politely. “See you again soon, Jaemin!”

Peddling away, letting the cool breeze fan you, your mind reverted its thoughts to that strange man. Maybe you’ll give it some time; you had a lot of it.

“Shucks, he was pretty cute.”

12 juin 1957

The world must really be on your side with these good decisions because you crossed paths with the strange man again in the café a week later. But instead of running away, he asked nicely if he could sit across your free chair in front of your table outside. It was a Saturday, and the place was packed.

“Joignez-moi, s’il vous plait.” (Join me, please.)

You insisted, giving yourself time to subtly observe his physique a lot more. Freckles dotted under his eyes like a constellation, bushy eyebrows, pink cheeks to match his pale complexion, and wearing a fuzzy knit sweater that meshed well with his green beret. He had some sort of necklace too; there was a heart pendant.

“Vous êtes une artiste.” (You’re an artist.) The small wooden palette of paint beside your small sketch pad was exposed, finding it as a great icebreaker.

“Une peintre, spécifiquement. Franchement, les visuels ici sont trés captivants qu'à Paris.” (A painter, to be specific. Frankly, the visuals here are more captivating than in Paris.)

“Je suis d’accord,” (I agree,) Jaehyun leaned against his chair, taking a better look at you with the remaining light from the descending sun.

“Oh, vous êtes comme moi. J’habite à Paris aussi.” (Oh, you’re like me. I live in Paris too.)

“Bon, je suis née à Londres. Puis, j’ai déménagé où je voulais en Europe depuis j'avais 18 ans. Mais oui, j’habite définitivement à Paris maintenant.” (Well, I was born in London then moved wherever I wanted in Europe for inspiration since I was 18. But yes, I live permanently in Paris now.)

You clarified, beginning to enjoy his comforting company. Initiating conversations with people you’re not acquainted with wasn’t in your range of skills, though he didn’t have an intimidating vibe. He looked too youthful to act like that.

“Je m’appelle (Y/N), d'ailleurs.” (I’m (Y/N), by the way.) You stuck out your hand as a sign of respect, which he enthusiastically obliged.

“Salut, (Y/N). Je m’appelle Jaehyun.” [Hi, (Y/N). I’m Jaehyun.]

He kissed it in a gentleman fashion, applying the manners he’s been taught since he was a child. Should you have been flustered, but no.  It’s been a long time since anyone greeted you like that, specifically back home.

Throughout your talk, you learned more about who he was, his job, and what his life in the countryside is like. He was an author of romance novels, yet you’ve never heard about him prior. Heavily prioritizing your work, you don’t keep up with the new releases or trends at all. Though after mentioning his last name, it piqued your interest.

“Jeong? As in the business, Jeong Tea Inc.?”

“Correct.”

His family was one of the most affluent families in Parisian society. Old money immigrants from South Korea, they brought their tea business to France and it boomed successfully. You’re quite sure you’ve seen his parents in past exhibits, but never did you approach them because you were a rookie then. But he reassured you that it was fine, and to just treat him like you’d treat your friends. Plus, it came to your knowledge that he was the same age as you too.

He opened up how this village was where he lived his childhood, so he asked his parents if he could hand over their mansion for a while for rest. It then shocked both of you at how identical your reasons were for staying in the countryside.

“I’m burnt out from the city, so I’m trying to regain my spirit here hopefully. Besides, I needed a change of scenery after living there for 3 years. My longest stay yet outside of London!”

“I need new ideas for my books. The cities don’t charm me anymore, so I returned here for peace and quiet. Maybe let these ideas come to me rather than me going after them.”

From a bigger lens, people would conclude your interaction as a sight of two artists who passionately talk about their art. But to you, you’d interpret it as two relaxed, young adults in their twenties who simply wanted to run away from the pressures of their art and enjoy the summer as every young adult should.

Not cooped up in the studio or office, but innocently waltzing around with your youth while it’s still there.

début de juillet 1957

“Dépêche-toi, (Y/N)!” [Hurry up, (Y/N)!]

Jaehyun yelled at your open balcony from downstairs, parking his mini car beside your bike. He planned on taking you somewhere a little farther this time; to absolutely feel like one of the locals.

The countryside urged you to wear more dresses and flat shoes, so you took out a turquoise dress with a white scarf to wrap on top of your head. Like your relaxed fit, your mindset too was calm. Upon meeting him, he wore his round spectacles with a red knit sweater over a white turtleneck long-sleeved top. His fingers were adorned with silver rings, then around his neck was a thin black ribbon. He curled some of his hair again, a style you really liked of his.

You can’t lie, but this man could pull any trend or style and still look extra pretty.

Out of all the locals you’ve befriended in your stay, Jaehyun was always your companion. He took you to varying places that those locals don’t visit nor tourists acknowledge in their reviews for the past few weeks. For someone who hasn’t been in the village for a long time, his memory didn’t disappoint. His childhood was only filled with cheerful moments.

Today, he was taking you to a peaceful district of shops in the farther part of the village. It’s where he’d buy sweets, journals, and accessories with his mother, Krystal, and one of his housemaids every other weekend.

All the stores there were currently bombarded with blooming flowers along their alley, bringing more enticement to those who were roaming around. There was so much life here; the head waiter of one restaurant smiling at every passing customer, one florist handing a free flower to anyone who asks, and a young lady showcasing her jewelry collection to a bunch of women who looked like tourists.

“Cette librairie vendent des livres enveloppés dans du papier. Ma mère m'a offerte l'un d'eux pour mon anniversaire tous les ans comme une surprise.” (This bookstore sells books wrapped in paper. My mother gifted me one of them on my birthday every year as a surprise.)

He trained his attention at a rustic shop with open wooden windows giving a glimpse of their shelves.

“Avez-vous fini les lisant?” (Have you finished reading them?)

“Du début à la fin.” (From cover to cover.)

He took you to this rooftop restaurant overlooking the entire plaza. Since he didn’t arrange a reservation yet didn’t get rejected, he must know the owner. Especially how a lot of the staff gave casual hellos and high fives.

Speaking of the owner, he walked out of his kitchen to introduce himself to you. He went by the name Moon Taeil, another one of Jaehyun’s childhood friends whom he used to play at his house whenever his parents came along.

Gobbling up in the appetizing food Taeil prepared beforehand, Jaehyun brought up your painting exhibition again. He loved hearing artists talk about their works, wanting to know more about their driven mindset and what their imagination is like. After all, it does vary for everyone.

“So far,” You poked your fork through the chicken, taking a bite of it. “I’ve produced 3 paintings. The garden of flowers outside Café des Étoiles Perdues, the kids playing hopscotch in the alley, and the peach tree outside your house.”

“Woah, you’re on a roll.” Jaehyun clapped across you, pouring you another glass of water. He recalled the nights you ranted not having any clue what to do for the exhibit. Then after taking you to more places, he’s rewarded to see you be creatively active again. “How many artworks do you left to make?”

“Around 3-4 left. I have ideas already, but I’m still brainstorming.” You internally rejoiced, loving how much progress you’ve made. “How about you, Jaehyun? How’s your progress?”

Unlike you, Jaehyun still felt stuck. Although he did find couples around the village, none of them intrigued him as much as his past stories. But he won’t give up easily; that’s not in his work ethic.

“Still searching, but I’ll get there.”

Recently, you got ahold of some of Jaehyun’s books from him personally since they weren’t sold in the village. You wanted to understand how he became so well known outside the labels people put him under. Reading his first novel entitled “Des Papillons” (Butterflies), it was about a couple separated during World War II without contact or knowledge about their well-being. Yet whenever they saw butterflies on the day they parted, they took it as a sign that the other was alive wherever they were.

You’re always hanging on the cliff when the scenes revert back and forth to the main male lead getting stuck in intense war scenarios, rooting for him to get out alive each time. In the end, it took 7 years before they were reunited and wed.

Jaehyun had a wonderful way with his words and descriptions, managing to enwrap you in as if you’re also a character in the book. Like how you rooted for that male lead, you’re rooting for him to find his spark again.

Following this uplifting conversation, Jaehyun finally took to your greatly anticipated spot. It was the main viewpoint of Gordes, one of the most beautiful hilltop villages in the country. The sunset was about to hit, and the lights from the city across you slowly turned on like a bunch of dominos.

As you marveled at its aesthetics, Jaehyun leaned against the hood of his car. He sensed how in awe you were, more than you ever were in the city he assumed. So used to the city that being surrounded with nature became foreign to you.

He took out his polaroid camera from his trunk and captured a photo of you from behind. The shutter sounds were obvious, turning your back at the commotion. Jaehyun fanned the freshly printed photo to dry, giving a mischievous smile.

“What can I say? While you’re fawning over the view, mine was more enamoring.”

Although Jaehyun felt overwhelmed the first time he locked eyes with you, he can’t resist the power of his developing feelings for you. The more time he took you around, the more his heart found different details about you to admire. After listening to all those love stories in the past, the people he spoke to shared how there will be some distinct moment where your heart decides who they’re longing for.

That exact view of you by the cliff, he already knew.

He’s infatuated by you.

“Tu es très ringard, Jaehyun.” (You’re so cheesy, Jaehyun.) You scoffed sassily, with a hand on your waist.

“Un gentleman ne ment jamais, (Y/N). Allez, il fait nuit maintenant.” [A gentleman never lies, (Y/N). Come on, it’s night already.]

He cleverly responded, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. The trip back to the village was energizing, putting down the roof of his car to relish the chill breeze of the night weather. You even raised your arms in the air, losing your scarf even from the speed Jaehyun went at!

The two of you belted along to the songs on the radio when the fields were the only ones surrounding you, no neighbors to shout at your rambunctiousness.

The late-night hours drew by so quickly almost like dinner with more of Jaehyun’s friends didn’t happen. Arriving at the front doors of your apartment complex, Jaehyun raced over to your side to open your door. Always maintained proper observation of manners, you appreciated that side of him. Rarely anyone in Paris that you’ve encountered treated you that way because you were a foreigner.

“Bonsoir, (Y/N).” [Goodnight, (Y/N).]

“Bonsoir, Jaehyun. Quand est-ce que je te revois?” (Goodnight, Jaehyun. When can I see you again?)

“Demain et après-demain. Appelle-moi quand tu es libre.” (Tomorrow, and the day after that. Just give me a call when you’re free.)

With a short wave, you entered your building and marched up to the stairs. A good day only meant being tired to the core, ready to crash and fall in your soft bed. Opening your wide windows to let more of the cool breeze in, your eyes easily caught Jaehyun’s classy car still there. As for the owner, he didn’t move an inch from his leaning position.

“Rentre à la maison, Jaehyun! C’est tard!” (Go home, Jaehyun! It’s late!) You shrieked, peeking side to side to make sure none of the neighbors scold you.

Jaehyun laughed wholeheartedly, not budging at all. “La nuit ne fait que commencer, ma chérie.” (The night has just begun, my darling.)

“Comment tu m'as appelé?” (What did you call me?)

Either your ears were fooling you or he addressed you by a divine pet name. The gasp you swallowed, as your entire body tingled with exhilaration. Your mind would simply disregard it like his former teasing words, but your heart begged to differ.

Rather than responding with words, Jaehyun’s voice serenaded you with a wondrous song, C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt, that played on the radio earlier. Out of the blue, a random guitar accompaniment followed his baritone vocals.

“En voyant notre mine ravie,”

Against the railing of your wired balcony, your body shifted forward to watch him better.

“Les passants dans la rue, nous envient,”

Your hand perched on your cheek, admiring his talent.

“C'est si bon de guetter dans ses yeux,”

It was like a lullaby, and here you were drowning in its peacefulness. Sensing the passion he gives off in his singing, your heart couldn’t refrain the strings inside from being swayed and tugged.

This was your moment of realization: that you too were smitten.

“Un espoir merveilleux, qui donne le frisson…”

À la mi-juillet de 1957

“Hello, nature!” You greeted brightly as your legs raced the huge garden in his manor. It was the first time he invited you over, too lazy to go out of the city. His social battery needed a recharge for the weekend, so a picnic within his home would do the trick. Additionally, it was an excuse to bring you over after the numerous times you’ve begged him to.

Jaehyun merely shook his head, enjoying the rush of childlike fun in your veins while you squealed and grazed your hands through the flowers.

He carried a wooden basket full of treats his family maids cooked, taking his time to venture through the rows of flowers. They were growing healthily and phenomenally these days, sometimes riding his bike to personally water them since he became busy with writing again. Lately, he found inspiration again, and so he wrote day and night to set them free.

“Voila!” You yanked out a sunflower, sniffing it a little. “Come on, Jaehyun! Pick up a few for our lunch!”

He followed your order, picking out some he found ideal. But just for fun, he put down the basket and carried you from behind out of the blue. You tried kicking him away, but his muscular arms can’t compete with your soft ones.

“What are you doing?”

“You said to pick up a flower, so I did. The prettiest of them all.”

His flirtatious words were never serious, yet you took it as a compliment. That’s how high your confidence is. Only we define our own worth, not others. The two of you chatted more about your lives until the first rain of the season poured down, chilling down from the raging heat. None of you had an umbrella; the weather was too unpredictable.

Deciding to just run for it, he gave you the wooden basket to protect yourself whilst he used the blanket you’ve sat on. Running with laughter to return to his mansion in the muddy dirt, the cool drops shivered your figure yet felt fantastic.

If you were in the city, you’d panic because it’d mess your appearance and your boss would be infuriated by your unprofessionalism. But in the countryside, it didn’t matter at all. The condition of the rain wasn’t budging to improve, getting stronger by the minute. His entire house even lost power, his housemaids having to bring candles to his bedroom and your assigned one once night dawned.

It was hopeless to return home for you, plus it’s dangerous to drive in in the dark, narrow streets too. Jaehyun handed you some of his fresh clothes so you’d be free from flinching from cold dress sticking to your body.

“Get dressed and some sleep, (Y/N).”

Nodding, you excused yourself to find the bathroom. You’d assume it’d be easy, but this was your first time in his house; a mansion even. Doors from left to right, long corridors that seemed never-ending, no maids were within the vicinity whom you can ask for guidance.

Resorting to return to Jaehyun’s chamber for help, you were taken aback by what your eyes laid on. In front of his full mirror, he discarded his now-dried shirt. Even with the dim lighting, you could make out that he was fit by the transparent view of his abdomen. Peeping like this was wrong, yet you couldn’t turn away just yet. The heat in your cheeks was inevitable, finding composure in such an unholy sight.

Though a gear in you suddenly twisted; a gear that straightened your nerves. You’re taking a bold move on the chessboard of your feelings. Wholly opening his bedroom door again, you leisurely sauntered inside without warning.

“Oh, (Y/N)! Ne peux pas trouver la salle de bain?” (Oh, (Y/N)! Can’t find the bathroom?)

Unbothered as he stood shirtless, you on the other hand silently dropped his clothes on the floor. Holding intense eye contact, your fingers graciously unzipped the side of your dress. Inch by inch, the tension built up like the strong tiny flames lit on the candles around you two. Joining the pile of clothes, all that remained were your white lace undergarments. Unplanned for the get-go, it’s the ideal set for your earlier outfit at the picnic.

“Je me suis perdue, mais je pense avoir trouvé quelque chose de mieux.” (I got lost, but I think I found something better.)

Your fingers grazed your arm up to your collarbones, faking your naivety. From your lust-filled stare, the glint in Jaehyun’s eyes darkened. He gulped at the revealing sight of you, brushing his hair back to restrain himself.

None of you could utter a single word, only the vivacious rain being the only sounds ringing around you. Thus, you allowed your actions to pursue precisely what you desired to do.

Taking baby steps towards him to test the waters, he met you right in the center and closed the leftover space. His hands cradled your face, whilst yours clung to his chest. His lips tasted like red wine, watching him pour in a glass for himself earlier. He did offer, yet you declined.

Your tongue darted his lower lip, gaining access after. Sensing the edge of his bed, you plopped yourself down the cushion. His knee urged your legs to widen, letting his body slide in. From your face, his fingers lowered to the back of your bra, snapping the clasps open.

“It takes skill to accomplish that in one try, Jaehyun.”

“I lived in Paris too, ma chérie. You out of all people would understand and have the experience.”

His palms massaged your freed breasts, throwing your head back even more to his pillows as his lips ravaged down from your stomach until the fabric of your not-so pure panties.

“Call me that again, please.”

“Ma chérie, seras-tu mienne?” (My darling, will you be mine?) He kissed and licked the tiny ribbon in front repeatedly, where your now-swollen clit laid. It electrified your bones, pulling on to his ruffled hair.

“Tu peux m'avoir.” (You can have me.)

Sex in the form of one-night stands were all you’ve invested; upcoming artists like you weren’t capable to maintain long-term relationships. Les plans à trois even if you’re extra freaky or drunk from the afterparties of your events. All that these occurrences had in common were not seeing those men ever again after sneaking out of their apartments in the morning.

This time, it’s different.

When they said that doing the deed with someone you’re romantically entangled with was more special, they didn’t bluff. You could plan bits of your life, but it can sometimes change aspects of it when you least expect it. Sometimes for the best or the worst, but right now, it went beyond your expectations.

It’s rewarding that the man you’ve slowly fallen for within your stay returned your affections.

Around late 3 am that night, your brain jolted with artistic ideas that awoken your sonorous rest. There are no hopes of sleeping them off because they tend to bother you for hours until you do something about it. But you’re already so cozy having Jaehyun’s arms around you, skin to skin under the duvet. His lips daunted right above your forehead, recalling his endless kisses there that helped you fall asleep.

Well, these ideas don’t work themselves unless you do. Untangling him tactfully, you stepped out of the blanket and wore one of his long white shirts he gave you earlier before pulling out your sketchpad and palette of oil paints.

Luckily, there was still one available candle to use as the rest have melted indefinitely. You slid the matchstick again to the sand surface, boring a flame from the friction which you placed on top of the wick.

All your ideas that night leaned towards one thing, or person rather: Jaehyun.

You spent a few minutes retracing how he vividly looked at the picnic, leaning back from the chair of his work desk. His outfit of a turquoise turtleneck underneath a white button-top with trousers matching the said turtleneck looked good together, how his ears tingled red after you complimented his newfound inspiration for his book, and the prominent veins in his arms when he rolled his sleeves due to the heat.

The thin brush you held defined the shape of his face, then paying attention to the messy strands of his hair. Stroking in a circular way to outline his eyelids, a hoarse grunt disturbed the peaceful silence.

“Get back in bed, ma chérie.” His eyes drowsily opened, lying on his side. The moment he no longer felt your warmth, he worried something happened. Instead, you’re working late at night after quite a rough yet romantic night.

“Shush,” You shunned him down with your index finger. “Give me a few more minutes.”

“Perhaps, are you painting me?” He hunched from the covers. “Your eyes looking back and forth would never lie to me, would they?”

“Maybe…” You teased, batting your eyes at him without any risky intentions. Or not?

He deeply chuckled, sluggishly removing himself under the covers. In his pure nudity, he advanced himself towards you. You shrieked, covering yourself with your free hand.

“Jaehyun, stay back! I told you I’ll be there soon!”

Not listening, he carried your bridal style, making you drop your precious palette to the fur rug. Laying you carefully, he popped each button open. By the sight of his cock hardening again, you knew you were in for another round with him.

“Wet again, ma chérie? Oh, this will be fun.”

Fin de juillet 1957

So this kind of summer romance concept that everyone fantasized about… it became your present.

Together you’d stroll in the smaller streets and immerse yourselves in the unique culture of the village. Whenever anyone saw you together, holding hands, biking, or what-not, they’d praise in the name of love for bringing you both together. A romance like yours in the countryside was a lively sight.

Remember how extensions were a possibility if your search for inspiration wasn’t found? Well, it’s not a question that you’d make one, except inspiration found you instead. And he had one arm around you as he slow danced with you in the open grounds of the village, listening to the live band covering song classics.

In particular, Chet Baker. He was Jaehyun’s favorite artist at the moment.

There was an ongoing week-long festival dedicated to summer, giving more plants their bloom and spreading gratitude to the hardworking people. Especially the students, off on their break.

The faint radiance from the post lights as Jaehyun swayed you around, making you laugh as he tried to mumble the lyrics of the song. All those glasses of wine he tried earlier with you from the bartender offering it for free had its effects, and you weren’t off the hook from them either.

Blisters started to form from your ankles, adjusting to the new pair of heels Jaehyun gave (or insisted to buy) you a while ago after staring at them like lasers. You’ve always provided things for yourself that being spoiled by someone else felt weird to you.

“If there’s anything you want me to buy for you, just tell me.”

“How can I buy you if you’re already mine?”

His smooth talk often made you punch his shoulder, but it’s just a mechanism to hide the exhilaration.

Under each other’s spells in your dance, you laid your head on Jaehyun’s chest. Feeling the strong beat of his heart, you were reminded of how much life he’s filled with. And you became a part of it, in the same way he crossed yours.

Jaehyun’s lips sank to the top of your head, pecking it affectionately. The first-ever summer where he wasn’t stuck at his desk working or drinking his life away with his rich friends in their Parisian homes, it couldn’t get better than this.

“Oiii! Flirtez ailleurs!” (Oiii! Flirt somewhere else!) The distinct voice of Jaemin, handing out pastries to passersby, shouted at the both of you, making you flip your middle finger at him.

“Trouve une copine d’abord, d’accord?!” (Find a girlfriend first, alright?!) You shouted back jokingly, almost falling due to the ache of your feet. Your immodest behavior was censored by Jaehyun’s large palms, not wanting the kids around to see it. Whispering closely to your ear,

“Tu es ivre. Laisse-moi te ramener chez toi.” (You’re drunk. Let me take you home.)

You changed back into your sandals as Jaehyun led you through the different alleys. Your vision was too hazy to navigate, so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulders. The weather grew cold too, shivering your bones so he draped you in his blazer.

“Wait,” You stopped, making him do the same. But before he could ask for your reason, your hands yanked him by his suspenders and your legs walked backward to reach the brick wall. Standing in his 5’11 glory, you were overpowered.

Yet your lips captured his effortlessly, raising to your toes to press yourself closer to him. He moved fast, one arm hugging your waist while the other hoisted your leg up. Tangling around his waist, the urge to move your hips against his crotch couldn’t be contained any longer.

Everyone was probably still out at this time or sleeping. The sloppy sounds you’ve produced were beyond suitable for any audience. Not to mention, the nasty words Jaehyun’s pretty mouth spoke in your ears desired you to fall to your knees.

“Not afraid of getting caught, ma chérie? You want me to ruin you right here, right now?”

“God, Jaehyun,” Your hands tugged his belt forward, the friction it gave to your core twitched the naughty side out of you. “Do it, please.”

The idea of public sex thrilled your mind into overdrive, yet you’ve never done it. In Paris, a city where several people started to know your name, you didn’t need a scandal to be plastered in your resume yet.

Jaehyun himself included, and still opted not to give it to you.

“Another time, ma chérie. Your apartment, now.”

The moment you unlocked your apartment door, Jaehyun was far from gentle like in the mansion. Ripping you out of your frilly dress didn’t take long, so was unbuttoning his trousers down to the floor.

On your knees, his hand gave you a makeshift ponytail as your tongue flicked the slit of his cock. Then slowly taking him inch by inch on your mouth, you’d let out a loud pop when you needed to breathe. Your hands fondling his balls, he groaned from the edge of your bed and tightened his hold on you. Tears formulated in your eyes as you got to swallow him whole, uncontrollably bobbing your head.

He felt like putty when he released, your throat taking the salty base. You hastily unhooked your bra in front of him when suddenly, his hand flicked on the fabric of your panties, cueing you to stop your motion.

“Keep them on when you ride me.”

Straddling on his lap, his head laid against the headboard of his bed. His arms roaming around your back to stabilize you, your fingers pushed your panties to the side as you pushed yourself down his protected length. Your moans became shaky. Up and down, you bounced while bracing on his shoulders.

Against his ear, your moans were harmonious. His hips moved against your beat, hitting your g-spot like the sexual ace he is. His thumb rubbing your clit, you shuttered your eyes at the impending high approaching you like a bus.

“I’m close.” You choked out, the overstimulation overwhelming your nerves.

“Fuck, me too.” He grunted, slapping your butt that made you shriek.

Soon enough, everything hit you both all at once. The knot snapped, and so did your body falling on his chest after a single scream. Panting, Jaehyun pecked on your temple as his cock softened up. Once you returned to your senses, you lifted yourself from his length, laying bare beside him.

His eyes started to fall, but before they did, he muttered huskily. “Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he’s said those words in the way they meant, and he’s more than certain that it’s what he felt with you. Sure, it started as mutual infatuation, but now, it can’t leave. Not on his watch.

Love was a concept unfamiliar to you, but Jaehyun slowly taught you what it was and how it felt like. Books and films may give sneak peeks, but to personally give and receive it back was made possible by him.

From this moment on, you could conclude that yes, you reciprocated it.

“Je t’aime aussi, Jaehyun.”

16 octobre 1957

Autumn made its way to the countryside.

The leaves switched into red-brown shades, the weather in the south was warmer, and the wine harvest was highly anticipated. Jaehyun’s camera was a common item in your outings, taking as many photos as he could so the two of you had something to look back on.

Planned and candid, his range was wide. These were moments that proved that your youth was as happy as you wished it to be. You wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

Painting in his mansion was a regular thing, having new canvases prepared at his patio. There were so many items that amused you there like you could base your entire collection on his home. It’s not like Jaehyun could argue; it meant more time with you whenever you came over.

“Jaehyun, if you smudge paint on me, so help me Go-” He refused to listen to your “threats”, smearing black paint on your cheek.

“You were saying?” He cockily pestered, showcasing his paint-filled fingers. You dipped one of your brushes into the new paint and chased after him without hesitation. The entire evening became a paint war, a laugh fit even after seeing your reflections in the mirror. But before you could clean yourself, Jaehyun’s camera was by your face and he pressed the button.

“Still breathtaking.”

But the middle of the season arrived, that’s where your planned extension you’ve reached its end. The exhibit was next month, getting calls from your boss regarding your return and the paintings you’ll present. You informed her that you already had them mailed to your studio way back, so there’s nothing much to worry about.

All your bags were packed in the private car Jaehyun rented. Here, you’re bidding your goodbyes to every friend you’ve made outside the doors of your apartment complex, saving your last words with Jaehyun.

The night before, he stayed over and helped you pack your last items in luggage bags. He even brought extra clothes for you so you wouldn’t work extra. You’ve talked it out the whole evening through what happens next to ease your worries. In your bed, he opened the wide windows and pulled you under the sheets.

“Write to me.”

“Call me when you’re free, or whenever you feel like it.”

Leaning against the railing of the stairs, watched the sorrow in your face over this parting. He sensed how bittersweet everything was, but he wouldn’t change anything about it. He’s positive that your story won’t end here, not right now.

Sauntering to him, you sighed whilst taking your bag he held the whole time from him. His touch was tighter as the two of you hugged tenderly, nuzzling his head on your shoulder. The scent of his citrus cologne that implanted in your brain felt comforting, despite the uncertainty of everything between you.

You hinted a minty taste from the menthol candies from his home as his lips brushed yours, colliding it timely. He waited when everyone left, relishing these last seconds.

Stepping inside the vehicle, you waved your summer love farewell one more time before the driver hit the pedal. Your eyes couldn’t stray away from looking back, the distance between him and your former apartment widening. Only when he was no longer in the frame, you shifted your focus back in front.

Your fingers fiddled with the charm bracelet he gifted you from the market. It was custom-made by a jeweler who was great friends with his mother in his younger years. There were two pendants chained on it: a paintbrush and the sun.

“A paintbrush to remind you of your passion, and the sun to remind you of the summer we first met.”

The man was like one of his romance books, in human form. He knew how to catch your breath effortlessly.

Your stay, for now, may have concluded, but there was always next summer. And the ones after that. The village felt like a second home, one you can’t neglect like the other places you’ve lived. Then having Jaehyun here, the more reasons to return.

Undoubtedly the best vacation you’ve ever been in your adult years, one that didn’t sacrifice for your art so you could compete with other artists. The weight on your chest poofed into thin air, and you felt ready for what the next steps as a painter were.

Appreciating the greenery you passed by, you peeked over the side mirror of the car only to find Jaehyun quickly biking in your direction.

Now, what was he up to?

You instantly requested the driver to slow down his pace, rolling down the window of the car. Not caring about the strong winds, “You fool, what are you doing?!”

Although he trusted your last words, he had the greed to see your face again. It would be a long time until he’ll see you in person again. So he pedaled as fast he could to still reach you. Oh, the things you do when you’re in love.

“Mon cœur bat la chamade pour toi, (Y/N)!” [My heart beats loudly for you, (Y/N)!]

You giggled at his silliness, throwing out flying kisses.

“Je reviendrai bientôt, Jaehyun!” (I’ll come back soon, Jaehyun!)

21 octobre 1957

Only your friends at the studio gave you a warm welcome back, receiving comments like “get back to work” from your first encounter with your boss. Popping a champagne glass open after work hours on the rooftop of your studio, they interrogated you with all the questions they could think of.

“So this village in Provence…. was it beautiful as the tourists said?” Ten, who moved from his home in Thailand to Paris at a young age, expressed his curiosity whilst leaning against the railing overlooking the Eiffel Tower.

“Beautiful is an understatement, Ten. I miss it dearly!” You heaved a sigh, twirling your glass.

“So this inspiration you were looking for…” Amélie, your dear friend since your university days, created some tension as she prolonged her last word. Playfulness twinkled in her eyes, crossing her legs. “Was a person involved by any chance?”

For a moment, your throat almost gagged on the sizzling alcohol going down.

“What do you mean?” You acted clueless, pouring your now empty glass with more booze. But the moment Ten gave you the troublesome look coordinating with Amélie, you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. These two were such gossips in and out of the studio.

Ten took the seat across you on the table and leaked all his pent-up information.

“So you know Seo Youngho, the only son of the Seo family. Rich, socialite, a total hotshot… yeah, all that jazz.” He dived in, seeing you nod over knowing that man. Someone in the past you’ve slept with, but that’s another story. “Well, Amelie and I attended one of his parties at his large penthouse. He had his usual crowd there; Kim Doyoung, Lee Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta, and Lee Minhyung. But fun fact: there’s another member in that friend group who doesn’t go to these kinds of events.”

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” Amélie excitedly took off like the pipelette (chatterbox) she is. “Youngho, who was talking to us for a bit, asked where you’ve run off. Poor him, he must’ve missed you in his bed but anyway! We told him that you went down south somewhere in Provence for a break. Oddly enough, he mentioned how the mentioned member moved back there for the same reason.”

Ten and Amélie gave each other another frisky look, merely to piss you off. So predictable of them.

“Get to the point please!” You screeched.

“Jeong Jaehyun, ever heard of him?” Amélie imitated your tone of voice. “I mean, you should since you made a whole painting of him.”

“H-How,” Speechless, that’s what you were. Ten went on a fit of giggles, signaling the build-up of his intoxication.

“Youngho visited the studio to find a specific painting for his home, and we helped him in choosing. Then when your deliveries of paintings arrived that day and were unwrapped, the look on his face when he saw Jaehyun’s painting was priceless. Things started to add up, especially when he told us that he called up Jaehyun prior, he said that Jaehyun was seeing a girl during his stay there.”

“A young, burnt-out painter from Paris, to be specific.”

They’ve put you on the edge of the cliff, and it was too close to call it a coincidence. Of all things to be revealed, this had to be the first.

“Well, I was waiting for another time to tell you guys about him though.”

Their gasps of joy could give you guys a noise complaint by the neighbors, telling all about your escapades of him and you. During it, the more you missed seeing him daily either on his bike or his car. It was stuck in your routine, but now it’s reverted to your old one.

Could the next summer come any faster?

14 février 1958

Perhaps your newest collection at the Louvre was your most successful one yet.

Entitled “Inspirez, Expirez” (Breathe In, Breathe Out), your sceneries during your stay in the village varied. An old couple slow dancing under the night sky, and the quiet district of shops Jaehyun took you, those were some of your last additions.

A multitude of positive reviews on the newspapers and art magazines came in, commending on taking on a fresher, brighter outlook for a change whilst finding your spark again. As fulfilling it was, what you longed the most was the one responsible for it.

Lately, it’s been tough to contact him. His maids always answered the calls, informing you that he was busy with work or family matters. It’s so rare for him to act like this. Whatever it was, it wasn’t grand or serious hopefully.

Back to your collection, tonight was the last night of it. Just in time for Valentine’s day, where numerous socialite lovers embarked on this event, but you’re more fixated that it was also Jaehyun’s birthday. A boy full of love born on the day dedicated for it, things made more sense. In case, you’ve sent your birthday wishes to him through letter and passing the message to one of his maids. Even on his special day, he hasn’t reached out to you.

But to momentarily forget about that, there was a closing ceremony held for this exhibit with the other artists involved, and it was your turn to give your final remarks. More esteemed socialites and journalists were present, which didn’t halt your nerves the slightest. You were a professional after all, holding pride in your craft as you stood in front of the microphone wearing your new favorite custom-made gown.

There are perks when you have close friends in the fashion industry, specifically Kim “Key” Kibum from the House of Key. After defending him from a disrespectful client when you were picking up a dress for your boss during your internship years, not only did you earn his respect, but an invite to his shows and first claiming of new items from his collections. Dining in expensive restaurants in the metro was a plus, catching up on your lives. Sometimes calling each other out for your sexcapades too.

Speaking of him, he was in the crowd that night, ordering every photographer to take photos of your gorgeous self in one of his dresses. Or in your opinion, bribing some by how he stuffed a few thick stacks of Euro bills down their pockets.

Only one of it ever made. A dark green satin v-neck off-the-shoulder gown, where diamonds adorned your neck and ears and white stilettos kept your perfect balance. Also courtesy of Key.

Because it’s the winter season, he gifted you a limited edition white fur coat every socialite tried getting their hands on. Your hair was styled in a bun, emphasizing your dark tinted lips from this new lipstick Amelie insisted you buy.

Most people would get the first impression that you were one of the socialites, a child from one of the affluent families even. But you were a lot more remarkable than that, having inborn talent in the arts that you specialized over your youth and rising to the top without any parental help.

“Thank you to everyone for their endless support towards the magnificent collections of each artist present. As for mine, I am grateful to rechannel my creative side by taking a break. Rather than romanticizing overworking our bones to the core, there’s nothing wrong with taking a step back from the pressure. Being alive is a blessing, realizing further how our youth won’t stay with us forever. Being away from the boisterous cities, I found relaxation in the countryside of Provence.”

Your lips quirked into a grin as every single memory during that time reeled in your head like a movie. “The beauty of Provence cannot be simply put in words. The muses I’ve encountered were more than lovely, especially the man behind the Poetic Rose. With that, I sincerely thank everyone from my bottom of my heart and I hope to continue to support me in the years to come.”

The applause roared once you stepped down the platform, shaking hands with every esteemed guest with more gratitude as they praised you. These days, socializing with them was a lot easier. You’ve even taken more initiative to greet people first before they do, conversing with them easily about anything.

Key definitely noticed that as you toured him around your section, holding his nth glass of wine for the night.

“You, Madame (Y/N), transformed into a social butterfly.” He nudged your shoulder, smirking once he got a better view of his favorite painting from you. “I guess that’s the thing when you’re in love.”

“I beg your pardon?”

With this free hand, he motioned it up and down at the painting in front of you. “The Poetic Rose is none other than the youngest son of the Jeong family, whom I’ve met through his older sister, Krystal.”

“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know him?!” You stressed, jokingly. Key was elated to capture you in his trap, the changes of your personality too evident in his eyes. Figuring it out that it was love took a while, but being acquainted with Krystal, she’s the one who told him that her younger brother was in love with a painter in Provence. Do the math.

“I’ve met him through his older sister, one of my highly favored clients. He’s not much of a socialite like her, so I don’t really blame you for that.”

Searching for a waiter to refill your wine glasses, a surprise emerged the both of you.

“Madame Krystal, you’re absolutely stunning.”  Key complimented her, giving the engaged heiress of Jeong Tea Inc. kisses on the cheek as respect. Her recent engagement to Kim Donghyun, her childhood sweetheart and also the heir of Kim Couture, was the talk of the town.

They arrived at the event together, drawing the attention of everyone in the room earlier. Now, he was speaking to a few influential socialites he made a deal with this week about the art collections present.

“Key, you never fail to look fantastic,” She remarked positively, poking his necktie before placing her undivided attention on you. “So you must be (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’re beyond bewildering in that gown.”

“Flattered to hear that, Madame Krystal. Such a pleasure to meet you.”

The three of you chatted as if you were the only people there. From art, passion, and love, pride filled in your chest when you toured your collection. It was like walking down memory lane for her, adding out how she used to climb the peach tree with her younger brother during their childhood. Once her eyes laid on Poetic Rose, she took her time admiring it.

“My younger brother grew up well. That’s all I could ever hope for as his only older sister.” She paused, noticing how silent you became when you stared at the painting along with her. She observed the passion lit in your eyes, yet there was longing behind it by the way your lips pouted briefly. “You must really love him, do you?”

“I do, truly. After meeting him, not only was I boosted with so much ideas, but my heart embraced him for what and who he is in this universe.” You professed confidently, earning an approving smile from Krystal.

“If that’s how you feel, why not tell him that yourself?”

Her fingers gestured you to turn around. Stood in a grey suit with his brown hair slicked back, it was like seeing a completely new person. A handsome one though. His fashion in the countryside heavily differed from his fashion in the cities. So sophisticated and refined, he looked like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

Your fairytale.

“Jaehyun.”

It’s like everything stopped once he sprinted towards you, pulling you off your feet for a snug hug. Your arms threw themselves on his neck by instinct, not wasting a single second in his grasp. Your nose inhaled the woody scent of his cologne, something more formal than his usual fruity scent.

The smell of aftershave in his jaw couldn’t go ignored either, assuming that he must have had plans to go out tonight. Nonetheless, you squealed as if you were back in Provence, giggling at his boldness. Once he put you down, neither of you could get your hands off each other.

“What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you’d be in Paris!” Clutching your waist, you gazed at him with doe-like eyes, instilling confusion.

“J’ai voulu te surprendre, my chérie.” (I wanted to surprise you, my darling.)

He chuckled, pushing some straying strands of your hair behind your ear. His eyes evoked so much endearment towards this elegant look you prepared, making his heart race as if he were in the gardens of his manor again.

Hearing his petname for you again attacked your heart every time no matter how much time passed, he lifted your chin high. Jaehyun urged himself to kiss you senseless right there, leaning lower. And yes, you anticipated it by how your eyes instantly closed.

Only if it weren’t for Krystal to clear her throat, obviously ruining the mood. Flinching away from your sensual lover, you rubbed the nape of your neck. Towards an heiress like her, it must’ve been unprofessional.

“Couldn’t you at least wait until I left, younger brother?” Her fingers flicked Jaehyun’s forehead, a teasing trick they used to do as kids. Even if she was a lot shorter now, it didn’t mean the impact was weak. He cursed under his breath, covering his forehead.

Stifling your laughter was a failure, crinkling your eyes to unleash your emotions. So this is what their sibling dynamic was like?

“Now excuse me, older sister. You didn’t tell me you were visiting the exhibit after my birthday dinner with our parents?” He crossed his arms, exchanging a judgmental look. For his sake, he wanted to maintain his pride. “All you said after dinner was that you were going straight home with your fiancé after all the alcohol mother gave you because it made you lightheaded.”

“Well, you know Key and his persuasiveness. He insisted I attend this event last minute because all the collections were amazing.” She explained, shedding a subtle glance at you. “Plus, it’s an excuse to finally meet this lovely girl you raved so much through your letters.”

Jaehyun kept his family life private, so this piece of information was new to you. The unpredicted way the fluttering feeling drew in your stomach, all you could do was smile from the flattery.

“He spoke about me to you?”

“More than speak, my dear. He practically professed his love for you, asking me advice on how to court a girl, make them smile, etcetera. You’re the first girl he’s been this affectionate with, and I completely understand now.” She patted your shoulder, hopeful. She had such a strong older sister vibe, reminding you of your older siblings back home. “You’re a clever, talented woman. I look forward to seeing you more often.”

As you nodded in approval, she turned towards her brother with her recurring teasing look. “Yah, Jaehyun. You better take care of her. If she ever sheds a tear because of you, I’m hunting you down in the gardens.”

“Harsh of you, Krystal.” He planted his hand on his chest, feigning pain. “But no worries. Having you and mother around me kept me well-mannered towards women growing up.”

Playfulness aside, Krystal felt honored towards her younger brother. Men these days maintained their sexist beliefs and rudeness, especially those who doubted her high position in the family business once her father stepped down. Nowadays, it’s men like Jaehyun who could really challenge the patriarchy and make women pursue a lot more than being limited as a housewife.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now please excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

Krystal waltzed her way out without tripping from her slight intoxication, which Jaehyun worried about earlier. But anyway, that left him alone with you. Filled with so many questions, you didn’t know where to start.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Paris? Why didn’t you acknowledge my birthday wishes to you? Why aren’t you answering my calls and letters?” You blurted without wasting a breath, weren’t trying to come off as needy, but it became peculiar when he was contacting you like usual.

You pushed off thinking of the worst scenarios, not wanting it to ruin your drive and your emotions either. Yet you trusted Jaehyun enough to know he wasn’t the type of person either.

“Okay slow down, ma chérie.” His hands maneuvered for you to stop for a bit. “Ask me one by one and I’ll give you a solid answer for each while we roam around.”

He arrived in Paris last week, which was initially for work. Then his birthday clashing was a coincidence. It would be too lonely to go home and celebrate his special day alone, so he extended. But again, it’s his work that caused his abrupt contact.

When you were too busy delving into the success of recovering your inspiration, he also found his spur to write again too. Day and night, his mind kept him tedious with an endless trail of thoughts and words. Overall, he finalized it then brought the end product to the same publishing house where his books in the past went through.

In fact, he decided to publish them specifically today on his birthday. The only day in his itinerary he planned, where after publishing, he’d hang out with his friends, have dinner with his family then run off to reunite with you.

“I didn’t intend to make you feel like a second choice, so please forgive me for that, ma chérie.”

“All is forgiven, Jaehyun.” You held both his hands, kissing them tenderly out of habit. “I’m overjoyed that you rekindled your creative side again.”

You were so understanding and empathetic, and Jaehyun aimed to act that way too. He learned so much from you as his friend before being his lover. Quickly enough, you’re both back to his portrait in the center. Like a critic, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose. Tapping his chin with his finger,

“This man in Poetic Rose, he’s quite dashing.” He commented with conceit, walking closer to it to view it better. “His freckles are on point, his dimples and dazzling eyes too. Why exactly is he described as a Poetic Rose?”

“Well sir,” You stood beside him, imitating his actions. “This man here always spoke so eloquently, like he had a very poetic approach on life. He reminded me also of a rose by his rosy tinted cheeks and his beauty. He was alluring inside and out.”

“Is he your favorite muse?”

“I never quoted him as a muse because he’s more than that. Muses can be replaced once they no longer serve purpose towards the artist. Though with him, he’s the never-ending flame that I want to keep for the rest of time."

You held on to his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. The apparent reddening of his ears proved that he was flustered, yet you spoke no lies.

“Joyeux anniversaire, ma flamme.” (Happy birthday, my flame.)

“Merci beaucoup, ma chérie.” (Thank you, my darling.)

Something about his new release piqued your attention so you brought it up again.

“So tell me about your new book.”

“Let me show you instead.” Inside the blazer, there was an inner pocket that sealed a small hardbound book. Taking it out, he handed it over to you. “This is your copy.”

The cover of the book had an illustration of two young adults running down the fields under the bright sun, with the title written in cursive and placed in the center.

“L’Été de 1957.” (The Summer of 1957.)

Like a child who received a new gift in the mail, you flipped the book open. Seeing the table of contents and credits to other important people involved in the process, there was a detailed dedication right before the starting chapter. It’s an unexpected page, noticing that he never put anything like this in his last works.

“Pour ma chérie, qui a peint les couleurs manquantes de ma vie.” (For my darling, who painted the missing colors of my life.)

Although Jaehyun planned to write about the couples he met in the countryside, he chose to change his perspective. Instead, he based this new book on your summer romance, installing more original characters who made your romance blossom more.

“I was once so engaged in listening to people’s love stories, hung up on what they felt.” He expounded, pacing around the floor whilst you skimmed through the pages. There were black and white photos from your adventures too to wrap the reader further in the story.

“While I was struggling to find the next story, I realized late that my story with you was a perfect choice. When I fell in love with you, it’s like I didn’t have to fret anymore about anything. Everything slowly yet surely aligned into place for me. Like how we found inspiration in each other.”

A poetic speaker meant having a poetic, wise mind. You kept an open mind whenever Jaehyun shared his thoughts on life with you, an intimate time that didn’t require using your bodies. Whether you were stargazing or drinking wine by his patio, his soulful personality never changed.

“So I recapped every single memory we had and compiled them,” He resumed, taking a closer step towards yours. His warm hands grasped your waist again, catching a glimpse of your astonished face. Mostly, towards your lips that he missed feeling against his.

“This book expressed my own take on love this time, the one I want to grow in.”

You’d care less if you dropped the book and your coat right there, your major desire to kiss him again was driving your senses to the edge of a cliff. Nothing could’ve braced yourself the second you fervently collided your lips with his. It didn’t feel like you were in this exhibit, but somewhere back in his mansion engulfed in each other’s presence.

Your legs almost melted by your daring move, if it weren’t for Jaehyun’s arm moving upwards to your back to stabilize you more. Your body tingled with goosebumps due to his relaxing fingers all over your body. His tongue caved in your lips, and you couldn’t ban its access.

Such an explicit sight, it felt forbidden as you were inches away from the public crowd. Yet it was the least of your worries if they made a big fuss over it. Jaehyun was here again with you, and that was more valuable to you. He savored every trace of your touches, taking his delicate time with you. No past birthday could defeat this, especially when it’s the first one to celebrate with you. The first of many.

As much you wanted to keep this up for hours, your lungs started feeling constricted of air so your lips timidly let go. Though your hands couldn’t, your overwhelmed eyes couldn’t shift away from the heart-stopping view of your lover. Wherein even after such a fearless session, his eyes fused with love and need with his plumper lips.

“Everything about Provence, especially you, that’s the life I want.” You confessed this concealed secret that’s revolved your head for a while now. Yet its certainty was true.

“Are you sure, ma chérie? What about work?” As an artist, he believed you should stay where everything is accessible. Yet as his woman, he wanted you to follow your heart. Jaehyun didn’t want you to choose or struggle.

“I’ve grown out from the idea that the city life was the only life meant of an artist like me.” You replied, confident enough to discuss it after deep thought. “Cities like Paris hold exciting, vigorous flames that will have you clinging on to them. But then, they’ll eventually die the longer you stay. You get burned in the process too. However, I stand by what I said earlier. I found an endless flame when I met and began loving you, Jaehyun. It doesn’t sting at all; it illuminates strongly every living day.”

Urging him to lower his stance with your fingers, you stated one last phrase. “Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”

“If that’s the case,” Jaehyun acknowledged, sticking his arm out for you. “Let’s get out of here.”

Astounded expressions crowded the socialites in the event as they watched the both of you exit together. If the news of Krystal and Donghyun weren’t crazy enough, some journalists figured the mysterious man behind The Poetic Rose and spread it like wildfire.

How was the youngest son of the Jeong family turned renowned romance novel author connected to the impressive, up-and-coming painter from London?

What really went down in Provence?

“How can you miss out on the signs? Did you not see them share a kiss earlier?” Key protested to those who weren’t approving whatever relationship you guys had. He loved his tea but hated those who simply were money hungry. Wanting a chance to be a part of the rich family, only to fish them out of their riches sooner or later.

Meanwhile, the winter season didn’t stop any of you from roaming the streets of Paris. Moments like these were a preview of the future you’ve envisioned with Jaehyun. Youthful, free, and fiery, a love between two artists created more magic not just in their crafts but to those around them.

Promenading a street overlooking the Seine River, Jaehyun took out a smaller instant camera from his pocket and took a candid shot of you. Stunned, you slapped his chest with your bag.

“Hey! Just how many more things are hidden in your blazer?”

“Just my wallet and a few condoms. Why’d you ask?” He raised a suggestive brow, feigning good intentions.

You hummed, faking your deep thought mindset. “At this rate, I don’t think we’ll make it back to my apartment alive.”

Jaehyun tugged you by your coat, his lips hovering your ear to whisper. “If we call a cab right now, I can finger you in the backseat.”

You chuckled at his vulgar idea, but it seemed ideal. You loved the thrill of getting caught or having someone overhearing you two, just like him. Besides, his fingers don’t match up to yours when you touch yourself alone in your apartment. You bat your eyelashes, giving in.

“Deal.”

6 ans plus tard (1964)

Summer returned, the sun strongly smiling down to the plentiful flowers at your family garden. By the patio of your home, your canvas was already laid by the easel stand. Shades of yellow were applied first to symbolize the brightness of the day, following the outline of your desired scenery for this piece.

Dipping the brush in water to change colors, you took another glance at the breezy sky. Light blue with clouds resembling soft pillows, you inhaled gently as your brush faintly stroked the canvas again.

Your hair was tied in a bun, meaning that you’re in for a busy session. But a more soothing one as the jazz music flowed from the vinyl player inside. Stress was the last thing you needed right now.

“What’s madame artiste up to right now?” Your husband piped in from behind, placing down a tray of tea and crackers. With some top buttons of his white top left unattended, you glimpsed on his toned chest when he leaned down. But you mustn’t pry whilst working, even when temptation was calling your name repeatedly.

“The summer sunshine healed me of my discomfort, so I think it’s about time I painted again.” You chewed on the snack, looking back and forth to the view. As enchanting as all the flowers you and him planted over the years grew, you’re more amused by a little boy strolling around it with his magnifying glass and tiny wooden basket with his furry puppy by his side.

His tiny legs often troubled the two of you because he enjoyed spending time with nature. Only God knows what he found in the garden this time.

“Adrien est explorer encore. Devrais-je lui dire qu’il change de place, ma chérie?” (Adrien is exploring again. Should I tell him to change places, my darling?) Jaehyun cautiously asked, not wanting his 3 year old son to impair your perspective.

“Non,” (No,) You held on to his hand, kissing it sweetly. Although you peeved any unnecessary details found in your scenery in the past, Adrien was an exception. As his mother, it’s hard to say no to him unless necessary.

“Il est un garçon curieux, alors il devrait explorer et flâner où il veut.” (He’s a curious boy, so he should explore and wander wherever he wants.)

Life ever since you returned to the countryside shifted into something more precious than you imagined. From moving places constantly, you found a home to settle in for good. A home with overflowing love and inspiration. A home within Jeong Jaehyun.

Recently, you halted your work-related activities in Paris and came home because you were heavily homesick. It even affected your health as a whole. So you made adjustments with your schedules, postponing appearances to events to next year.

On the plus side, you could be more active as a mother to Adrien. It felt like you burdened Jaehyun to take care of Adrien most of the time because he mainly worked from home, wherein important people who wanted to meet him would have to fly out to the countryside.

Back and forth to Paris, your presence towards Adrien often lacked. Here came your biggest fear, which was Adrien forgetting you. But Jaehyun told you over and over again that it wasn’t the case. As he listened to every wrenching thought you had, but he’d combat it with heartfelt words of reassurance so you wouldn’t overanalyze things.

He vowed to love and take care of you when times get hard, and he will continue doing so.

Remember when you said how his mansion felt too big?

It no longer did after getting married.

It gave more room to grow and breathe more life into it. When Adrien was born, he was the prime reflection of your and Jaehyun’s love. He mirrored his father’s physical traits but with a daring personality like yours. A perfect mixture, the world worked amazingly to bring a boy like him into your life.

“Maman! Papa!” Adrien bolted to where you and Jaehyun stood. From the clothes he wore, it’s very much clear that his father was in charge of it whilst you slept in the entire morning. Suspenders, capri shorts, a white shirt, and a red beret, he deserved his title as Jaehyun’s mini-me.

Jaehyun swelled with pride and love for his only son, peeking over what he brought to show and tell you both. “Oh Adrien, what do you have for us today?”

In his basket, there were 3 sunflowers stuck out from the edge. It’s been a while since you’ve seen some in full bloom, lowering your stance to get a more vivid view. He took them out to hand them to you and your husband.

One flower for Jaehyun and two for you. You let out a gasp, scrunching your brows to the center. He always gave one of each item to you and Jaehyun, never more or less.

“Ooh, deux fleurs pour Maman. Pourquoi, Rien?” (Ooh, two flowers for Mama. Why, Rien?) Jaehyun let his nickname out for his lips while you grasped his small hand.

“Well, I heard from Olivier next door that on his birthday, he gave extra flowers to his mother so he could have another sibling. And it worked!” He spoke so innocently, yet it hitched a choke from Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes widened from disbelief. The information he collected due to his curiosity, no boundaries truly.

“Le mois prochain, c’est mon anniversaire. Je me demandais si je peux avoir un frère ou sœur comme Olivier? Tu es toujours occupée, comme Papa. Je ne veux plus être seul, alors je veux une amie aussi.” (It’s my birthday next month, and I was wondering if I can have a sibling like Olivier? You are always busy, like Papa. I don’t want to be alone anymore, so I want a friend too.)

You exchanged looks with Jaehyun, not knowing how exactly to respond. Although you and Jaehyun did agree that you wanted more than one child when you were younger, neither of you brought it up again since your careers were always loaded with plans.

Adrien was a surprise child actually, conceived on the night where you and Jaehyun celebrated after L’Été de 1957 was announced to be the best-selling romance novel of the decade in the country.

In Paris at his family home, where his parents brought out all their prized liquor, the two of you drank the entire night away to the point Krystal and Donghyun had to push you away from each other from your public affections because their children were present.

But it didn’t stop you two once you reached his bedroom, far away from everything and everyone. And you’ll never change it.

“Oh, Rien,” You eased in, consoling him. “Je suis désolé. Mais c’est franchement une grande demande, n'est-ce pas?” (I am sorry. But that’s quite a big request, right?)

“Mom and I will think about it first, okay? Another kid is a big responsibility, and you’ll be their older brother. That’s another important job, can you do it well?”

“Yes, I can, Papa!” He beamed with glee, his covered head patted by his father after. As you placed the sunflowers beside your palette, Adrien then proceeded to ask you if he could paint with you like old times.

Never you refuse especially with his sparkling round eyes and chubby face that makes you want to squish every time.

As you lifted his light body to sit on your lap, you placed your brush between his stubby fingers and carefully aimed in whatever angle seemed fit so the painting process would run smoothly and perfectly. He let out sounds of amazement when the strokes get bigger, jumping slightly too because the picture became more vivid. You’d smile and coo at him, commending whenever he followed instructions well. As his mother, you only encouraged your child in whatever they want to excel in.

Adrien was the child of two artists, so it was only natural that he had an artistic side in his veins.

Too caught up in your fun, hearing the automatic shutter of the camera from your side was delayed. The source was none other than Jaehyun hiding behind his camera. Jaehyun’s heart soared at the heavenly view of the most important people in his life, wanting to treasure the moment as a lovely memory.

“Hey!” You shouted, placing down the messy brush by the palette. “Je suis très laid!” (I am very ugly!)

“Shh! Tu est rayonnant, ma chérie. Papa est juste, Rien?” (Shh! You are glowing, my darling. Papa is right, Rien?)

Jaehyun politely quizzed the peppy boy, nodding excitedly. His dimples deeply showed up, the main trait he claimed from his father.

“Oui, papa! Maman est toujours belle!” (Yes, papa! Mama is always beautiful!)

He exclaimed, pecking your cheek numerously. You squealed, attacking him with tickles and kisses back. His shouts of delight, then he was suddenly carried by your tall husband in the air like he was flying in the sky. Adrien enjoyed that motion highly, ending up on Jaehyun’s shoulders shortly after to play by the garden again.

“Go paint. I’ll take care of him now.” Jaehyun persuaded, roaming through the long rows of flowers in full bloom. Though seconds after adding some strokes to your piece, you let down your hair, put a hat and sandals on, and ran to the cute duo to join them.

And that’s how your family spent the entire afternoon. By the garden, running around and taking photos and short videos from Jaehyun’s camera. Freezing these valuable memories, this was truly the life you loved so much.

After your break, you could convince the company you worked at that you’d prefer fewer trips to Paris and stay in the countryside longer. How badly you’ve wanted to hold your exhibits here instead. Plus like Jaehyun, let influential people visit you. You’ve already made a big name for yourself now, so that should be valid enough.

Dinner time passed by quickly too, eventually putting Adrien to a smooth slumber as you massaged the roots of his soft hair while Jaehyun sang him a lullaby. This was your joint parenting technique with him since he was a newborn, and it worked quickly as lightning.

You redressed into your silk nightgown after bringing your canvas to the master bedroom, opening the balcony doors to invite the cool breeze in. You tweaked some bits of your painting, including a silhouette of your small family. Regarding where to place it, probably by the living room as it matched the theme.

“What a spectacular day, don’t you think, ma chérie?” Jaehyun conversed, admiring the calm movements of your brush. He noticed a quirky smile grace your lips.

“It’s been a long time since we had quality time like that with Rien. He’s a feisty ball of energy these days.” You replied with a nostalgic daze. “It’s so crazy how one day, he was still crawling to us. Now, he could outrun the both of us.”

“Comme le temps passe vite, hmm?” (How time flies fast, hmm?) Nodding, nothing braced for what your husband had in mind. You almost dropped your brush mid-way. Jaehyun’s lips impatiently devoured your neck, his huge hands fondling your breasts. Violently throwing your head back against his chest, a needy moan parted your lips.

“Jae-” His touches reaching south to where you desired him highly, dampening hastily as your legs naturally spread apart. Rushed exhales, “À quoi tu penses maintenant?” (What are you thinking about right now?)

“Rien se sent seul,” (Rien feels alone,) His hot breath whispered against your ear, his fingers dangerously trailing your thin panties up and down. With your hands tightly clutching on his bicep,

“Alors, donnons-lui une amie.” (We should give him a friend.)

Ever since Adrien mentioned such a daring topic, it hasn’t left Jaehyun’s mind the whole day. After seeing you in utter bliss with your son earlier, he found you so majestic and radiant. It’s a different kind of happiness, especially for parents.

Now you went on hiatus, he thought that it was the right time to have another. He enjoyed his younger years with Krystal, and he wanted Adrien to experience it too. 3 years was quite a wait, and it seemed ideal to try again.

From his nude chest, you flipped around to intensely clash his lips with yours. Draping your arms behind his neck, Jaehyun lifted your entire figure from the chair. His hands gripping on your butt, he delicately lowered you down your bed.

Drowning into his sensual kisses with his hands all over you, this could prolong for hours. Reddening love marks started to resurface whilst your fingers tugged on the drawstring of his pajama pants. Jaehyun’s fingers dove under the fabric of your panties, his index finger rubbing figure 8s the sensitive bundle of nerves.

You struggled to swallow your moans, not wanting Rien to hear it. You wouldn’t want to repeat history, covering it as Jaehyun massaging you after a hard day.

“I know you want one too, ma chérie.” His fingers began to drape down the straps of your gown, presenting your breasts in its full, perky view. But before his lips could suck on your erect nipples, you parted momentarily from him and got up on your feet. Pulling up your straps again, Jaehyun simply laid down but he wasn’t pleased from how you left him hanging.

“Où vas-tu, ma chérie?” (Where are you going, sweetheart?)

He was growing impatient. You were never to interrupt such a sexy atmosphere ever.

From one of your drawers in your vanity table, an important, half-opened envelope was hidden. You were supposed to give it tomorrow but now seemed like a perfect time. Reading it as soon one of the maids handed it to you gave you the jitters, but in a positive way. Sitting back down on the edge of your bed, you exhilaratingly passed it to your husband.

“Qu’est-ce que c’est?” (What is this?)

“Ouvre-le.” (Open it.)

Jaehyun slowly opened the edges and once he took out the contents. Reading it thoroughly, he couldn’t believe it as his jaw dropped, pacing from the letter and you back and forth.

“Vraiment, ma chérie?” (Really, my darling?)

It was from a doctor you visited in Paris a few days before you left, who confirmed just exactly what caused your health to go feeble suddenly. You already had one certain suspicion, which you addressed in your leave of absence letter. Amelié, who finally got the position as the head, couldn’t believe her ears and insisted you take all the time off you needed.

“On dirait que Adrien a reçu son cadeau d'anniversaire en avance.” (It looks like Adrien received his birthday gift early.)

Overall, it turned out the headaches and repeated vomiting you mistook as motion sickness from traveling was a surprise hello to your second child.

A girl specifically, thanks to the blood test she recommended.

“Je t’aime, (Y/N).”

“Montre moi combien tu m’aimes, Jaehyun.” (Show me how much you love me, Jaehyun.)

The whole night through, the two of you vigorously celebrated with the moonlight from the windows and a few scented candles set in the room. Wet kisses left on your collarbone, words of devotion exchanged, holding his hand as he groaned from heartily thrusting in you, the number of moans from your lips overlapped with the vinyl playing in the room. The intimacy between you two increased, almost as if you made love for the first time again all those years ago.

Excluding being drenched from the rain.

Once the two of you grew tired, Jaehyun lied down beside you. Wrapping one arm around, one hand trailed down your naked skin again. His wedding band flashed your eyes, reminding you of the commitment you promised each other. For better, and for worse.

Jaehyun promised to love you endlessly as a woman and his wife, and it didn’t cease when you became the mother of his children. He respected how strong you are, physically and mentally. He helped you in any way he could as you endured the struggling process.

At the end of the day, his family was his biggest priority. More than ever now, you needed him as you go through the pregnancy phases again. Specifically, his index finger lingered on your stomach. There was no bump or other signs of showing, except for that glow he complimented you earlier on.

“We met and fell in love over the summer, got married in summer, had Adrien mid-summer, and now found out about our daughter at the start of summer.” He smiled, blessed at all the good he’s received during this time.

“The summer gods must adore us.” Your vacant hand with your wedding band topped his. To love and to cherish. “Ils m'ont amené à toi.” (They brought me to you.)

His power on you was simply addicting, as if your early twenties revisited you. You straddled himself once again, your fingers caressing his face sweetly. When it reached his lips, he placed longing kisses there and pulled you closer again for another kiss on your lips. In between, you mumbled in a silvery tone,

“Then they led us to say I do. Pour toujours et à jamais.”

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

[persephones-wren]

Hi, so I had this idea for a Kaz Brekker x reader one shot were kaz is have trouble sleep and is becoming tired and grumpy during the day. So, the reader starts secretly putting lavender in his room and clothes (lavender is a good herb to aid sleeping). He starts sleeping better and doesn’t know why until he finds the reader in his room and then they can have a bit of fluff at the end of something. Idk hope you find this useful <3. Have a nice day/night!

Lavender (Kaz Brekker x Reader)

First request! Thank you for the idea anon <3 sorry this took a bit long, but I really enjoyed writing it and I think it turned out alright! I hope you like it as well :)

Warnings: spoilers for Kaz’s backstory

Genre: Angst to Fluff (?) 

Word Count: 2082

He thought he had outrun the nightmare of his past.

The gloves had protected him, becoming his weapon, and the reputation that followed him had been another impenetrable fortress. How ironic that the one who led him back to his past was himself.

...

It was on a mission gone wrong, where the only way of escape was down, back in the cold harbors of Ketterdam. The frigid waters had brought his brother’s bloated and ice-cold corpse underneath his hands, fighting to keep his vision from blurring, fighting to keep himself alive.

“...Kaz!” 

You were treading the water lightly, trying to stay afloat while supporting him. He tried to say something, anything, but he felt as if he were drowning as you half-hazardly pulled him onto the dock, your breath ragged and your shoulders sagging. He seemed to see right through you, and he was pale and shaking slightly, not just from the cold- something there had haunted him, though. It was obviously more than just the cool waters.

“Kaz, are you alright?” Your inquiry went unanswered, and you waited patiently, before he somewhat snapped to attention, roughly pushing himself off of you, probably bruising your shoulder as he stood and backed away furiously.

“Don’t touch me, get off of me-” he forced a shuddery breath in- “I’m fine.”

Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, and he cleared his throat and refused to look at you. He didn’t apologize, nothing of the sort, because Kaz Brekker never apologized, even rare and brief moments of weakness.

Kaz Rietveld might’ve apologized to you.

“Right, okay,” your voice was soft, but firm. “We should find the others, they’ll probably be at the meeting spot.”

You both got up slowly, muscles sore and stiff from hitting icy waters, but you swiftly and quietly towards the carriages Jesper had prepared. Neither of you said a word on the way back. Upon your arrival, both Inej and Jesper grew increasingly concerned at your condition.

“What the hell happened to you two?” Jesper had asked.

“Are you two alright?” Inej echoed.

“We survived,” you muttered, sparing a small glance at Kaz, who still wasn’t saying much. “It’s a long story.”

...

Long story indeed.

Kaz had presumed that you had told them what had happened, but he was almost praying to the Saints that you had left out the details of his condition. It wasn’t that he would necessarily be too ashamed to ever tell Jesper or Inej- but they needed him for his reliability, and any moment of weakness could be used against him, both by friends and enemies. He’d prefer that Jordie be kept with him only. After all, it only took a couple shots for Jesper to reveal almost anything.

He didn’t sleep well that night, hell, he didn’t think he’d sleep right for at least a month. His normal sleep schedule was one that could barely keep a normal person running, but with his brother lurking in every corner of his unconsciousness, it was better to stay awake, where he could be in control.

It was affecting his mood, he knew that. He had to heavily restrain himself not to snap at people, but even without snapping, his words were still scathing. He’d find more to criticize, more to hate, and he’d probably scolded every member of the Dregs in the last week. Everyone, except you. Whether it was because you were there with him or it was something more, that wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

Then suddenly, the insomnia stopped.

It had only been a week, before his sleeping schedule reverted back. Jordie was there, but it was more of what he could remember in life than death, smiles and sunshine rather than plague and death. It was a bittersweet sadness, but it had been one he’d grown used to, one he could get past quicker. He fixed himself back into his office, working on another plan rather than hovering over everyone just to find something to criticize. 

What had changed?

It might’ve been the light smell of herbs, was that lavender? that permeated his office now, but he’d never caught the culprit of who had done it. And despite his ability to find cracks in any facade, he had caught no lies in any members of the Dregs. 

His first thought had been you, admittedly. He knew you knew something the others didn’t, you saw him panic on the docks, and he knew you could act your way through nearly anything. It didn’t seem hard to put two and two together.

But you seemed honest enough, when he had asked you. Perhaps it was his like of you that clouded his judgement, but you genuinely didn’t seem to know anything.

…

“Stop that.”

“Huh?” you whirled around, and Kaz was there, cane in hand, glare piercing through you.

“Stop putting whatever herbs in my room.”

You stared at him, confused, before you burst out laughing. “Is someone putting herbs in your room? That’s why your office always smells like lavender now...I’m sorry, Kaz, but that isn’t me, although it would be funny if it was. Ha...I don’t think I could get away with sneaking in your office if I tried.”

“Any ideas who it could be, then?” He asked impatiently.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea. It could be anyone, really. Even though I-” was the one who saw you at the docks, the words hung unspoken, “um, yeah, everyone’s noticed you’ve been different. Truthfully though, I think they just think it’s because a mission went wrong.”

“Fine.” He nodded at you, and then he’d went to go find Jesper at the Crow Club.

It was a truth, in a way. You couldn’t go around sneaking herbs in his room. You weren’t silent enough for that, you were an actress, not a shadow. Inej, however, was the Wraith, and if anyone could get away with it, it’d be her. 

So you’d ask for her help, whether it was distracting him or asking her to put the herbs in herself.

And you’d both play dumb until he was back to the person you knew.

…

It had only been one unfortunate night, where you were finally caught putting the lavender on his desk.

You had gotten better at just sneaking in and doing it yourself without Inej’s help, as you’d successfully done it for at least three nights in the past month. Tonight, though, Inej had been running some other task, probably nightly reports for Kaz, and luck had finally run out without her assistance.

“Y/N.”

You froze, and a chill ran down your spine. Though Kaz Brekker was never exactly friendly by any means, the slight warmth of his tone towards you had withered into frost. You were completely fucked. If he was lucky, maybe he’d let you out of the Crows alive. He doesn’t think you’re the one putting lavender in this room- he probably thinks you’re a traitor. Have fun talking yourself out of this one without admitting to it, you berated yourself. Saints know you’ll need the luck.

“If you’re here to steal plans and distribute them, then it’s certainly a pity that I liked you,” he muttered. “And I suppose even more impressive that you had me fooled.” He advanced forward, and his slammed his cane into the ground next to you, making you flinch. “How did you do it, then?”

“I- um, well, it’s,” you tripped, frantically trying to find the words, “it’s nothing like that. I’m not taking your plans. They have no use to me. I dislike Pekka just as much as you do. Do you think missions I’ve done with you would’ve gone successfully if I was working with him?”

“If you aren’t, then why are you in my office?”

“I’m just trying to-” you cut yourself off and sighed. Help was not going to be a good word to use. Kaz didn’t need help, and he’d probably just be more furious it you stated it for how it was. “Lavender is good for sleeping.”

He had long forgotten that someone actually had to be putting the lavender there. It just showed up now, for a month. He’d just accepted it.

“So it’s you, then?”

“Yeah,” you say sheepishly. “I’m sorry I lied to you, earlier. I don’t like seeing you in pain, though. People rely on you, they need you, Kaz, and well, I thought- never mind what I thought. I just hoped you would rest better, after...”

“You didn’t tell them what happened?”

There’s an odd vulnerability in his words, but you don’t remark on them. “No.” A faint smile is etched on your lips at the thought of your lie. “I told them that you were upset that the mission had gone wrong, and that it was mostly my fault. You scolded me on the docks and gave me the silent treatment in the carriage, that’s all it was to them. If you want to talk- I mean- what happened there?”

You know you’re seconds away from breaking the ice you’d been treading on lightly, but curiosity takes the better of you for a second before you’re rapidly apologizing, getting ready to leave the office before he kills you.

He found you in his office, he thought you stole plans, and then you admit you’ve been there more than once because you’re the girl who put lavender in his room. You really need to think things through more. 

“Good that you didn’t tell them. Stop apologizing. Take a seat, for a second.”

You do so, keeping your questions to yourself. He stares at you for a long moment, conflicted, before he gathers himself again. “What happened at the harbors. I had a brother, Jordie Rietveld. He died during the plague. We both got thrown in the harbor. He was dead. I was alive, surrounded by death.” He’s quiet for a bit, but when he glances at your expression, there’s no pity, no horror on your face, you don’t believe he’s weak. You’re quietly waiting for him to continue. So he does. 

“I needed to get back onto land. I got there using my brother to hold onto.”

“You wear gloves because of that now,” you point out quietly. 

He takes a shuddering breath in. “Yes.”

“When we had to dive, it came back to you. Kaz,” you whisper, “thank you for telling me.”

 “Thank you,” he echoes your words. He’s shaking and vulnerable, even though he hasn’t said much. Even then, there’s no look of fear or judgement of anything he’s done in your expression. The respect he has worked to earn is still there, and he could sigh in relief.

He’s twisting at his hands, before you realize he’s slowly slipping off his gloves. Your voice cuts through the air, talking frantically again. “No, no- Kaz, we don’t have to do this. I don’t want you to do this if you’re not ready- you don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

His voice is quiet, but full of resolve.

“Okay.”

His hands are normal. They’re not ugly, or disfigured, or strange. They fit him.

“Your hands are pretty.” The words slip out of you before you realize.

He laughs, a little breathless, and the tension eases a little. “My hands are pretty?” 

“Yeah.”

You outstretch your hand, and he waits a couple of moments before slowly interlocking it with yours. It’s sickening and he has to will himself to hold on, but he does. He feels content, content that you’re here, content that you’re willing to help him.

“You can let go if you need to.” Your voice sounds far away.

“I’m alright.” He’s not, but you’re warm. You’re alive, you’re not Jordie. He’s in his office, with the girl who put lavender in his room, not in the cold harbor with death.

You both stay for a long while, before he lets go.

“Thank you,” he repeats, before he slips on his gloves again.

“It’s nothing,” you answer, but you both know it’s everything, everything to you, everything to him. 

You start to walk towards the door, before his voice calls out again. “Tomorrow. I can’t promise I’ll-” be a good person, be the person you want, be there for you-

“Tomorrow,” you agree. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The smell of lavender lingers in his room. He picks up the flower you had left on his desk, and an uncharacteristic smile blooms on his face.

Tomorrow.

[realcube]

ONCE YOU’RE GONE

rq ♥ hello!! can i please request miya twins, sakusa, suna, akaashi x fem!reader an angst one. like they got into a heated argument each other. reader just had enough, maybe take a stroll and got into a deadly accident that cost her life/ memory loss or something. and the hq char regrets it

tw ♥ angst, hurt/comfort, breakups, disappearances, very vague implications of kidnapping, memory loss & injury 

a/n ♥ sorry i couldn’t think of anything for suna </3 

ATSUMU MIYA

♡ he’s never really been an overly religious guy

♡ yet everyday, he finds himself praying that you’ll come back 

♡ and before now, he considered himself a rather patient person, but every second you were gone was filled with anguish

♡ mostly because he knew it was all his fault

♡ nobody blamed it on him though, which only made him feel more guilty

♡ it was late, so he decided to walk you home from his house. hardly with your safety in mind though, just because he wanted to spend more time with you

♡ that was his first mistake

♡ his second was getting so defensive over his volleyball team

♡ he was talking about their recent loss to karasuno high, and how they were all devastated since they had been training for ages

♡ yet instead of comforting him, you simply replied, “maybe you should do things besides volleyball, if you’re getting so worked up about it.”

♡ but all he heard was you being condescending (though that genuinely wasn’t your intention) and telling him to give up something he is passionate about because of one little defeat

♡ you tried to explain that you honestly meant no harm by your statement but atsumu argued that the damage had already been done, hence your apology meant nothing to him

♡ realising that atsumu was just being pissy and taking his frustration at the game out on you, you distanced yourself; walking a few paces in front of him and plugging in your earbuds to tune him out

♡ after marching behind you for a few more yards, atsumu eventually decided that he was finished 

♡ in one swift motion, he turned on his heels and stomped back his house, leaving you to walk the rest of the distance yourself; that was his third mistake

♡ however, after walking for about half a mile, he got a newsfeed notification on his phone titled, ‘four people reported missing in hyōgo prefecture, in the last week.’

♡ it only took one headline for all atsumu’s previous emotions to be swept away and replaced with one that left him motionless; guilt

♡ he continued walking back to his home, reasoning that you clearing didn’t want him near you — anyone could tell by the way you walked in front of him and ignored him— so he must’ve made the right choice to leave you, since it’s what you wanted, after all

♡ and it’s not like y’all broke up or anything, he still loves you and hopes you are safe and to prove that, he apologised and texted you first 

♡ ‘hey, i’m so sorry i was i bit of a jerk earlier.’

♡ followed by ‘text me once you’re home.’  

♡ no response, simply read at 21:45 

♡ that was a week ago, yet he still wholehearted believed that you were going to come back

♡ though, deep down he knew he was just feeding himself the same line over and over again, just so that he wouldn’t feel guilty, and so that the sight of a volleyball stopped making him feel so sick and distressed

OSAMU MIYA

♡ he’s never felt such a sea of emotions at once before

♡ on one hand, he was just happy to see you alive and well; isn’t that all a lover should want?

♡ however, he didn’t have the honour of calling himself your lover anymore

♡ you didn’t remember anything from before the crash, which initially brought him a small tinge of relief, since you wouldn’t blame him for what happened

♡ however, you didn’t remember him at all

♡ so when he knelt by your bed and started apologising profusely, all you did which raise a brow and turn to the nurse, quietly — yet not discreetly — asking who the guy by your bed was

♡ he felt his hear tear apart at such a simple inquiry 

♡ however, instead of explaining himself, he got up and left, “nobody.”

♡ wanting to get it all off of his chest, he told atsumu about what happened, as if he didn’t know that his brother had the biggest crush on you during your whole relationship with osamu 

♡ and of course, upon hearing the news, atsumu ‘snuck out’ later to go visit you in hospital and presumably try to win your heart 

♡ though, there was nothing ‘sneaky’ about the way he loudly fumbled around with the car keys, or the way he tended to slam the door behind him — atsumu knew exactly what his brother was trying to do and although it pained him to even think of losing you, he let his brother pursue you anyway 

♡ he tried to protect you once and it resulted in you losing your memory, so god knows what would happen if he tried again

♡ plus, you were no longer his to protect, or at least that is what he tried to convince himself

♡ after months of daily visits from atsumu —and none from osamu — you were somewhat starting to gain your memory back 

♡ atsumu just seemed so.. familiar, and that was the single best feeling when you are so isolated 

♡ though, there was something off about him that you couldn’t exactly put your finger on, but he reassured you that it was because ‘seeing you hurt changed him as a man’ so of course he’s different from the way you ‘remember’ him

♡ years passed, and you continued dating atsumu in blissful ignorance of the events that happened before the accident

♡ you feel deeper in love with the atsumu you thought you knew and were forced away from osamu (who chose to remain single, he claimed it was to focus on his studies but he truly couldn’t find a second soulmate)

♡ it was only at your own wedding day were you finally able to see osamu once more, though you didn’t really interact with him much..

♡ until he objected during your vows, then, it was pretty hard to ignore him, especially since he appeared sober yet was claiming that you are his one true love, and he regrets ever leaving you 

♡ needless to say, the rest of the wedding definitely did not go as planned

KIYOOMI SAKUSA 

♡ he loved you; and he wished he had showed it more, now that it’s too late

♡ “sakusa,” you cooed, resting your head on his shoulder and offering him a plate of apple slices you cut yourself, while browsing the shows on TV, “what shall we watch tonight?” you inquired, but mostly to yourself since dating sakusa nowadays was similar to dating a literal rock 

♡ no response, as per usual

♡ well, on the bright-side, that just meant you’d get to watch whatever you wanted, unless sakusa spoke up, which he most likely would not 

♡ scanning through all your options, you decided to select some teen romance, coming-of-age movie that you knew sakusa would most definitely not enjoy, hence forcing him to say thing 

♡ however, instead of him reacting in accordance to your plan, he simply got up and left without another word

♡ something about the sight of him with his back turned to you, headed out of your house and back home with even a goodbye cleared your fogged mind and left one fact undoubtedly clear; you didn’t want to be with him anymore 

♡ and although you didn’t want to make assumptions, you surmised that he felt the same way; it was almost a certainty considering how distant he acted 

♡ so of course you cut it off that same night; yet when you proposed the idea of breaking up, sakusa became surprisingly defensive

♡ it was as if all of a sudden he realised how shitty he had been acting this whole time, and how his actions had effected you 

♡ you both yelled over the phone for hours, though it was hardly an ‘argument’, more like sakusa apologising profusely and making — what you believed to be — false promises, while you explained that you had just had enough 

♡ it ended with him almost screaming ‘i love you’, but you hung up on him too soon 

♡ he would never admit it, but he cried himself to sleep that night

♡ there was a part of him saying that he was just being overdramatic and you were nothing more than another lover that will enter and exit his life with the wind, but four years later, he still found himself getting butterflies upon catching a glimpse of you in the stands at one of games 

♡ despite the fact you were cheering for opposite team 

KEIJI AKAASHI 

♡ you two were the perfect couple

♡ study dates, sliding notes to each other during class, midnight strolls, endless support, dancing in the rain; it was like you were both living in your very own slice-of-life romance movie

♡ however, as they say, all good things must come to an end

♡ but for akaashi, that ending came too quickly

♡ “you can do it, i know you can!” that must’ve been the tenth time you’ve said that today, it was like your own inspirational mantra, yet akaashi didn’t seem to be endeared by it 

♡ “no, (y/n).” he repeated with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he began to guide you to the door, “it’s a silly dream. i probably shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

♡ “it’s not silly!” you argued, throwing on your jacket as he made it increasingly clear that he didn’t want to continue this conversation, “it’s your dream! you can’t just keep complaining about school if you aren’t even going to try to pursue your passion.” 

♡ akaashi silently shook his head, “go.” it was harsh, but he could only deal with speaking about his work life for so long

♡ “you go.” you snapped, though knowing it wasn’t exactly the comeback of the century, but it summarised your feelings well enough, “i’ve honestly had enough of you. i hope--” 

♡ you cut yourself off at that; storming off before saying something you might regret 

♡ though furious, you really didn’t want things to end with him, you just hoped that maybe one day you’ll be able to have a civil conversation with him about what he wants to do in life 

♡ because he hides it well, but the more you got to know him, the more you noticed that he truly wasn’t happy in his studies, and you just wished he would do something about it or at the very least, let you help 

♡ and he knew this too; he knew it all too well yet still couldn’t bring himself to better his life, even once you were gone

♡ you were critically injured after the accident, and during your time in the hospital, you let akaashi see you once

♡ one visit was his chance to redeem himself, to apologise and help you both align your futures together 

♡ but all he could do was sit with you in radio silence

♡ thirty minutes passed and his mind was running on overdrive, yet he couldn’t think of anything to utter after ‘hello.’

♡ so he left 

♡ no apology, no redemption, to attempt, nothing.

♡ all he could say was that he left with a heavy heart, a heart filled with hope that one day he could return to you despite all the wrong he has done; though that seemed more unrealistic than his dream of playing profession volleyball

♡ he had truly lost his soulmate 

[tales-unique]

FAITH, LOST  IV

Oh honey she starts off so spicy! Hence why it's all under a Read More since I don't wanna get done for showing the nasty straight out the gate. Minors better beware! ;3

Tagging the boos, for obvs reasons @chelseareferenced @buckysbaby1 hope you all like it! 😘😘

Chapter 4

It begins as soon as your eyes flutter open. The darkness, familiar, like an old friend, coerces your senses into a heightened state. Exposed, your skin prickles at the coolness of the room, writhing against soft sheets. You exhale in exhilaration; you know what’s to come. It starts small, a low thrum of electricity in the air that tickles your bare flesh. Then it builds, tantalizingly slow, a measured surge of power that has you twisting yourself in knots. You want more. Only He can give you more. His arrival is heralded by the scent of oil and whiskey, leather and smoke. It caresses you, embraces you, and sends you into overdrive. It’s instinctual, a primal desire. It corrupts your mind, the sequence disjointing in its take over. Thick boots echo on a wooden floor, your mouth falling open with a heated breath. Your back arches when you feel his weight dip the bed, heat radiating from him. The contrast has you trembling, body wired. His hands, strong and calloused, grip the backs of your thighs easily. A simple tug and you’re at his mercy, legs parting easily in his strong grip. You moan, he growls. He likes what he can see, those beast eyes glowing a dangerous red in the blackness. Sharp indents form against delicate skin, his claws marking your inner thighs. His little lamb, so sweet and so ready for the slaughter. Then there’s movement, the shuffle of fabric, the chink of a belt buckle. You tense, but you’re ready. The air surges with the oncoming crescendo, the room spinning, or maybe it’s you? You’re not sure, preoccupied with the molten heat that pools suddenly between your legs. You feel his grin, all teeth and tongue helping to blot out the sharp stab of pain.      Forgive me Father, for I have sinned—

The sudden chaos of a burst steam pipe in the hallway outside your room abruptly shocks you from your slumber, a cacophony of sounds assaulting your sleep-hazed senses. You hear Heisenberg shouting, the scraping of metal being reshaped at will, the harsh hissing of escaping steam. Groaning at the rude awakening you flop back against the lumpy couch cushions, kicking off your blanket in protest. A light sheen of sweat covers your body, making your nightclothes stick to you in an uncomfortable way. As you stare up at the ceiling you try to decode the meaning behind your dream. You recall with an embarrassing amount of clarity just what it was you were doing and who you were enjoying it with. Humiliation blooms within you, coloring your cheeks a shade of scarlet. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t indulged in the past, you just never had desires so blatant before. Especially for someone who was your superior in every way. “Hey, you awake in there?” Heisenberg’s voice cuts your thoughts short. All the racket has stopped, there’s just the usual hum of the Factory. “Y-yes!” You squeak, stomach clenching uncharacteristically as you sit up, “I’m awake!” “Well get your ass up, we have work to do!” He claps his hands hard to exaggerate his point and you lament your new found torture as his footfalls recede down the corridor. Oh merciful Mother Miranda how were you supposed to face him anymore?

Heisenberg is, for lack of a better word, pissed. It surges through him and it shows in the haphazard, volatile approach he takes with his work. It isn’t rational, this level of response on his part, but he can’t help it. You’ve barely spoken a full sentence to him all day. Now, he’s under no illusions that you were going to become the best of friends. After all, you had been sent to him by Mother Bitch herself to be his servant and he knew that you were three sheets to the wind over this religious bullshit, but he’d thought that you’d been showing progress in becoming your own person. At least, you were , until that little incident where he had you pinned against his desk and decided to take his teasing to the next level. It isn’t often that Heisenberg considers that he may have gone too far with something, or someone , but he’s definitely considering the possibility now that you seem to be avoiding him wherever possible. You’d even brushed off his blatant last ditch attempt, an offer to accompany him to see his forge and the projects he’d been working on, in favour of praying to Mother Miranda. It’s the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen. You’d been so close to opening up, to no longer being a tool, but instead you’re become even more the meek little lamb of Miranda’s flock. Frustration bubbles within and his temper, short-fused as it already is, takes a critical hit. As a result everything he does has a sharp, volatile edge to it; even something as simple as opening a door is menacing in his current state. It serves to further deter you from him, giving you the space you so desperately desired. That is, until Heisenberg reaches his limit. “Just open up already! You can’t ignore me forever!” He thunders where he stands in the hallway, gritting his teeth in a vicious snarl. When he’s met with your persistent silence he howls in frustration, throwing his arms up in the air. The irony of him choosing to remain outside your door doesn’t go amiss, since it’s well known that he could easily rip the door from its hinges with the flick of his hand because of his nifty little ability to manipulate metal. Which, coincidentally, nearly everything in this Factory is made of in some form or another. But he doesn’t and you’re thankful for that, even if you still don’t want to face him. It continues on relentlessly, neither side backing down, and without realizing it, the whole thing becomes a game in its own right. One that pits you against one another to see who cracks first. So it’s a surprise when it’s Heisenberg that seeks you out first. It’s a situation of his own making, having followed you on the gritty live feed from his security cameras. With ease he catches you off guard on your way out of the elevator, taking your fright in his stride. “Easy now!” He exclaims, his hands raised in surrender. You’re cagey, looking for a way out. He isn’t going to give you one because he’s had about enough of you giving him the cold shoulder over a goddamn joke . You’ve pressed yourself tight against the wall, watching him like a hawk. He can hear the frantic flutter of your heart, the sharp intakes of breath, and his jaw tightens. He can’t get distracted now, he needs to focus — this was not the time to enjoy your distress. “Now I know that I can be a bit of a handful,” he starts, then falters, mouth working to try and word it just right, “but, really, hasn’t this gone on long enough? I didn’t mean any harm by it! Just a little teasing, you weren’t meant to get upset.” Oh, he thinks this is because of that time. You stare up at him in utter disbelief. You want to slap him. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt the innate burning desire to inflict bodily harm on anyone, but here you stand, about ready to knock those glasses right off his face. “You have literally no idea how you make me feel , do you?” You accuse him, incredulous, your posture straightening. Things might have slipped back to the way they were before all of this if he had just let you be, allowed you to warm back up to him, and maybe you might have been content with that. This was a turmoil of his own creation, after all, so why not let him stew in it a while. But now? Now you were at your limit. You’re tired of constantly tip-toeing around yourself because of him and his stupid games. If anything, you’re even more tentative to rekindle whatever this relationship is that you have with him, to throw in the towel and tell Mother Miranda she’d been wrong about you. It made you sour to think that what little progress you had made had been lost and it’s taken its toll on you. There’s a harsh look to you that has Heisenberg’s head spinning, apprehension gripping him. “H-Hold on a minute,” he attempts to defend himself, an uncomfortable blend of emotions sitting like a stone in his stomach. He’s conflicted over your new found confidence. You’re no longer the mild-mannered devotee that was wound around Mother Miranda’s finger, standing tall. You’re practically shining. It’s a good look on you, but he’s not exactly thrilled to be the one on the receiving end. “No!” You snap, squaring up to him. You see his brilliant eyes widen behind his circular glasses and for once in your life you feel powerful and in control . “I’ve done nothing but try my best here, trying to make something good out of this situation and you made me feel like a complete idiot !” The words feel heavy on your tongue, but you feel lighter now that they’re out in the open. Who knew that having your shame out in the open could feel so liberating. You take a deep breath when you feel the pinpricks of tears sting your eyes, trying to ground yourself. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him. Not in this lifetime, or the next. Heisenberg stares down at you with a look of realization on his face, now fully aware that there was more to this than your feelings of inadequacy, that you were little more than a joke to him. It’s always been there, in the way your heart races when he gets just that little bit too close or how your eyes soften when he’s agonizing over his work. He goes to speak this revelation but you shake your head, lower lip trembling. “I was just trying to help .” The way your voice breaks has him in a tailspin, the look of pure anguish in your eyes cutting him deep. This is in no way what he had envisioned when he spotted the chance to clear the air with you. “Oh come on, don’t cry!” It’s a desperate plea, something you never thought you would hear from him. “You’re making me feel really shitty here!” “That’s because you are!” You sob, unable to hold it back anymore. You feel like such a pathetic idiot. That overwhelming monster of self-degradation looms, fueling your misery. If only a dark abyss could just swallow you up and save you from this embarrassment, but you know that’s not going to happen. There’s only this awkward moment, lingering between you. You whimper, trying desperately to wipe away your tears. They stream down your cheeks, burning against your already flushed skin as you sniffle. Suddenly his hands are encasing your own in a firm grip. With a surprisingly gentle touch he tugs them down, exposing you. The whites of your eyes are marred with tiny lines of red and your long lashes clump together from your tears. You’re a mess, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he finds you oddly endearing in the moment. Swallowing, you try to understand what’s going on. Your hands are still held in his, the feel of soft leather almost comforting against your skin, and you wonder if you’re dreaming again. Something stirs in you, glowing embers kicking up from ashes, and you try to pull away. It’s an admirable attempt but Heisenberg easily catches you, holding you in a vice-like grip against him. You whine at the harshness of his grasp and he frowns, loosening his hold just enough to make it bearable. “I’m sorry, alright?” He mumbles, hesitating. It’s been so long, too long, since he’s been in such close proximity to someone who wasn’t prey. You aren’t fighting him, you aren’t trying your damnedest to get away. In fact, you look as though you’re captivated by him. It’s a side of him that no one has ever seen before, the dejection of a man twisted into being a monster. Something inside you breaks anew at how lost he looks, the last and most dangerous of the Lords at Mother Miranda’s disposal. He’s nothing more than a dog on a choke chain, to be used when it’s suited and then discarded afterwards. Just like you. “Heisenberg,” your voice is hushed, woeful. The words are so genuine and your heart isn’t yet made of stone to be immune to their plight. When you shift in his grasp there’s no resistance and you reach up to gently cup his cheeks in your hands. The stubble on his face tickles your palms and his skin is warm and smooth to the touch. You find you quite like it, the contrast of textures. He does little in the way to stop you. In fact, he encourages you. His hands find purchase on your hips, thumbs brushing the delicate spots just below your rib cage. It elicits a soft gasp from you, your body stiffening beneath him. Glistening eyes stare up at him, a swirling maelstrom threatening to drown him along with you. He’s curious whether or not you’re ready to commit to this. Heisenberg knows what you want, or better yet, what your body wants, but your mind eludes him. He waits with bated breath to see what path you will take, the uncomfortable feeling of anxiety creeping in his bones. It’s like poison, a crawling taint that threatens to take over him. What have you done to him? The exact same thing he did to you. It’s a disquieting notion, one that almost overtakes him, until it doesn’t. The doubts are suddenly banished and relief washes over him at the feel of your silken lips against his in a tender kiss. The chain breaks; you're both suddenly free, and it feels euphoric .

[cienie-isengardu]

Not only do I not regret asking you to "RELEASE THE RAMBLES!", I'm sending you requests for more. Below is a list of questions that I asked @bihansthot , and enjoyed their answers, but because you are so thorough, and answer in such depth, I'm re-asking them to you.

Brace yourself, it's a list. I didnt have time to sort thru them, I just copied and pasted, so if any are questions you already answered before, please feel free to include the links.

"LET US BEGIN!"

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In the spirit of potential future writing,  I'm trying to find a building that  would make a good substitution for Lin Kuei temple.

I've tried looking up ancient Chinese military barracks/forts, and have found some stuff,  but is all exterior.  Anyone know of any locations (or several I can cobble together) that would make good inspiration fodder?

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So, uhm, religion? What's the Lin Kuei's take on that one? I know they are aware of Gods, they team up with/ encounter Raiden all the time,  and have literally worked for/against Shinook, so I know they recognize higher powers... but I  guess the question is,  do they care?

Do they have a religion,  or spiritual practice that resembles religion? Or do they have a more practical approach "gods exist,  but we just consider them very strong people"?

Which segues into... do they recognize and participate in holidays, or things like birthdays? Or are all their celebrations work related (I.E. successful missions or levels of combat mastery)?

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Food.  What foods do they normally eat? What foods do they like?  What foods don't they like? What foods do they absolutely love so much they'll stop what they're doing to get it?

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If you had to match the Lin Kuei with a dynasty,  what one would it be? (I know the 2021 movie has the opening in the Ming dynasty, so the Lin Kuei is at least that old,  but given that movie Bi Han hasn't aged in 400 years, and was taken is a child,  its probably much older) (and also know the game probably cherry picked random Chinese things it liked).

What do you think the Lin Kuei's view on artistic culture (probably not the right word) is? I know they are heavily militaristic,  but in the game,  Kuai Liang offers Hanzo tea and he properly prepares it the Japanese way, that says they have something of an education other than just related to fighting?

Lastly,  in the movie,  everything Bi Han does is "for the Lin Kuei", but the Lin Kuei is on Earth (assumedly),  and he is working for a guy who wants to enslave Earth, so what do you think the deal is?

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Question about the Cryomancers. I know the game lore says that they are supposed to be rare, but I also know that the Lin Kuei have had at least 5 (grandpa, papa, older, and younger Sub Zero,  and Frost). 4 of which are part of 3 generations that inherited it even with mixed blood (I'm assuming Mama Sub Zero wasn't Cryomancer since they left her alone).

That's a lot of generations in a row for a rare trait... So do you think the Cryomancers as a group have figured out they're being hunted and have chosen to live in hiding?

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Lin Kuei society question? I like writing so I also like world building and I think about these things.

Is Lin Kuei society ever covered? I know there is a Grandmaster, a handful master assassins (Sub Zero's, Sektor, Cyrax, etc) and the  movies always have a bunch canon fodder lesser assassins.

And they live in the very isolated Lin Kuei Palace/Temple in Arktika (or wherever it used to be)

But is Lin Kuei (we'll call it "village") ever covered?   Do they have willing servants, kidnapped slaves, or a mix of both? Are there women (non fighter women,  I know there's Frost) or do they employ strictly male help? If there are women, what's their role, and are there children born there? What about Elderly? What about resources,  is everything (from food, clothes, weapons, and the raw materials to create them) grown or manufactured on sight by skilled laborers or do they import/interact with the outside world? How vicious or civil is this society, could you be killed for looking at Sektor wrong or do they value your services to a degree? What's the degree? This is obviously a combat culture,  but is everyone expected to know martial arts of some variety, is it optional, or do they prohibit it among the servants/slaves? How strict are they on things like clothing, food, alcohol,  drugs, "luxuries", or pleasures? Money? If they interact with the world do they recognize and use $$ currency, commodity currency, or a mixture? Internally are the Lin Kuei payed or just provided for? What about illness or injury,  if you're not a master and it a serious injury/illness are you taken care of or do they just give you a quick death?

Etc. That's all the questions I can think of,  but please feel free to answer questions I didn't ask,  if you think of anything else.

Thank you for this wonderful list to talk about! I’m gonna split the answer into smaller parts, for better focusing on each aspect but also so I don’t feel bad for keeping you waiting for ages, lol. For now let’s focus on asks about the religion!

So good questions! I do think they have some spiritual practice(s) because in martial arts the state of a mind is as important as the physical body and religion is one of many ways to shape someone’s mindset from a young age. I do, however, think that Lin Kuei does not worship the gods. They are aware that the gods exist (with Raiden as the thorn in the side) and may even respect their supernatural powers and battle skills but it never has stopped Lin Kuei from desecrating holy places, murdering people and stealing stuff for the best price. So, it seems to me that whatever religion the members of the clan follow, by nature it is rooted in nontheism.

Of course, there is also a chance that Lin Kuei worships some forgotten deity or deities (as a remnant of their ancient connections with Outworld / realms conquered and destroyed by Shao Kahn?) or may even practice ancestor worship which seems like a good way to uphold a widely understood tradition that plays an important role in the discussed community.

The closest thing to religious practice was seen in Mortal Kombat X, when Sub-Zero and his warriors seemed to pray together before statue of god / deity / ancestor / legendary warrior / personalized thing they value the most (sadly, my knowledge about Asian religious practices or faiths is very limited so I don’t have idea if the statue is supposed to represent any real god/religious symbol).

At the same time, it could be just a bluff since Grandmaster was aware of Cage’s team infiltrating the Lin Kuei territory and used this moment to lure them into a trap. Additionally, Mortal Kombat X comics presented once Kuai Liang sitting before the same statue albeit in a completely different (devoid of reverence?) position.

Of course, if we take into account Mortal Kombat Armageddon, the game states that Lin Kuei Temple placed in Arctika was actually once the Temple of Delia (the great sorceress & wife of god Argus) that at some point get abandoned and re-used by Sub-Zero’s clan.

(In the background, we can see a statue of Delia that Lin Kuei does not worship but did not remove for whatever reason. Mixing both old and new games, we can only wonder if MKX!statue is also the remnant of someone else's faith/religion?)

Beside that, Kuai Liang was pretty vocal about Lin Kuei not worshipping the Elder Gods, what was seen in MK11’s intro dialogue with Cetrion

Sub-Zero: The Lin Kuei do not worship the Elder Gods.

Cetrion: We seek gratitude, not worship.

Sub-Zero: I see no distinction.

and personally did not have any reason to pray to the goddess:

Sub-Zero: Why should I pray to you?

Cetrion: Why does a bird flap its wings?

Sub-Zero: I asked a simple question.

In all fairness, in MK11 Kuai Liang seems the most passive-aggressive toward the Elder God while Frost is focused on her ambitions and Noob!Bi-Han just wants to be left alone when bothered by Cetrion. Similar thing happens toward Raiden. Despite gratitude for saving him, Kuai Liang does not spare the god criticism (can’t serve both Elder Gods and Earthrealm, isn’t fit for his role of protector) and in MKX outright says he does not fear divine beings:

Raiden: Sub-Zero...

Sub-Zero: I fear no gods, Raiden.

Raiden': That's why you shall lose.

Surprisingly, Kuai Liang’s interaction with MK11!Fujin sounds less accusing than with Raiden and Cetrion and it is connected closely to their ties with Bi-Han. And maybe Kuai Liang did seek in the past Fujin and other elements to make a peace with them, like he planned to do so in Mortal Kombat 4 Limited comics?

"I came here to make peace with the gods of the elements that you fought [...]"

Anyway, the accusingly behaviour toward Raiden and Cetrion could be just Kuai Liang’s personal dislike for gods and serious authority issues, which makes sense considering how much he suffered because of their meddling and conflicts.

But honestly?

The available examples of Lin Kuei attitude toward gods, demigods and supernatural beings suggest how little the warriors - especially cryomancers - care for them.

Like, we have Bi-Han in Mythologies, who asked Quan Chi about details of mission:

Sub-Zero: If it's so precious, why don't you get it yourself?

Quan Chi: I cannot enter the temple until the four elements within its walls have been defeated. And I am not on the best of terms with the gods of your realm... especially your god of thunder.

Sub-Zero: Tell me about these elements.

Quan Chi outright said he and earthrealm gods weren’t friends and Bi-Han, reading between the lines, could get the idea that he may end on bad terms with Thunder God. Yet he was interested only in elements (lesser gods than protector of realm?) guarding the temple.

Then Bi-Han beat down four demigods and met a displeased Raiden after Quan Chi got the Shinnok Amulet. His reaction? No fear, like meeting an angry god was a normal occurrence.

Rayden: Do you realize what you've done??

Sub-Zero: I was just earning my living.

Rayden: Your clan's ignorance and greed will cost this entire realm. You must now set things straight.

Sub-Zero: Quan Chi could simply be a lunatic sorcerer. I've never heard of an elder god named Shinnok or of a place called the Netherrealm.

Rayden: Well, you'd better start believing in both, because you're going to the Netherrealm and you're going to bring the amulet back. We must act quickly. I have no dominion in the Netherrealm... You are reality's only hope.

Sub-Zero: I'll do it, Thunder God... but only because I have no choice.

And once he came back from Netherrealm, where he was fixing what he messed up in the first place on Raiden’s order, his abrasive attitude did not change much:

Sub-Zero: Here... the amulet.

Rayden: Impressive, Sub-Zero. Perhaps you will reconcile your reckless past after all.

Sub-Zero: That's it? Not even a thank you?

Of course, to some degree Raiden’s words did have an impact on Bi-Han but even the god’s warning about his soul tainted with evil did not stop him from coming back to Lin Kuei. Bi-Han’s attitude and/or approach to gods seems to change somehow once he was reborn as Noob, but that is a different matter for different times.

Anyway, Mythologies!Bi-Han and MK11!Noob act less aggressive toward gods than Kuai Liang. But then we have Sub-Zero from from the MK novel by Jeff Rovin, who not only is not afraid of gods but outright insult them:

“Wait! Be warned, Shang Tsung. He is cursed!”

“Cursed? By whom?”

Ruthay wailed, “By the immortal Yu.”

Shang Tsung felt cold spiders crawl up his spine. “The demigod Yu?”

“Yes… he who is said to dwell in the underground caverns of Horse Ear Mountain… which is sacred to the goddess Kuan Lin. He who protects the canals… and the tunnels… and looks after all who use them, human and animal.”

“What did our brash friend do to Yu?”

“He… killed a man,” said Ruthay.

“What man?”

“A toll-taker… one who had given up a life of crime… one who had been a partner of the man… you… seek.”

“And how did that crime come to the attention of the spirit of Yu?” Shang Tsung asked.

“The man was killed… slowly disemboweled with a sword… while accomplices forced his wife and his son to look on! After his murder… the man’s remains… were dumped into a canal!”

Shang Tsung raised an eyebrow. “Is that all? I was expecting something truly terrible!”

“It was!” Ruthay shrieked. “When he disposed of the body… in that way … he profaned one of the sacred waterways… of Yu!”

Shang Tsung smiled now. “Then he is definitely the man I want,” he said. “Anyone who is impudent enough to insult a demigod won’t be afraid to attack a member of the White Lotus Society, or the gods who watch after them. I will send Hamachi, Ruthay. When he nears his goal, see through his eyes and guide him!”

Book!Sub-Zero was impudent enough to insult a demigod which is why he was one of Shang Tsung’s favorites. And to be clear - book!Sub-Zero did not regret insulting the demigod at all. Even more! He found humor in it!:

He dwelt in a cave two hundred feet up the face of a cliff by the sea. The mouth of his home was barely wide enough to accommodate a slender adult, and was accessible only by climbing the sheer wall of rock, a feat that was impossible for most adults and daunting even to the few arachnids and marsupials that tried it.

Maybe some of them were even sent by Yu, he thought with a smirk, little assassins who would chastise me for having spilled blood in his precious canal.

The less abrasive attitude toward gods was shown by Cyrax, who talked a bit with Raiden over Bi-Han’s remains. He wasn’t outright antagonistic but wasn’t overall respectful either. He talked with Thunder God like he would talk with any other human being that wasn’t actually Scorpion. Frankly, from the named Lin Kuei only MK9!Smoke actually addressed Raiden in respectful manner, with proper bow and the name of lord

albeit did he do so because he respects the divine beings or just out of gratitude for saving him, hard to tell for sure.

So yeah, it seems like no matter what kind of timeline or age or medium of the story, Lin Kuei does not fear gods nor pray to them. And the clan has a long history of dealing with Raiden, so the Lin Kuei had first-hand experiences with supernatural beings. Somehow, cryomancers are the most impudent warriors when it comes to dealing with or criticizing the gods.

Interestingly, as much as Lin Kuei warriors don’t care for gods, most of the known to us named characters believe to have - and to care - for their own souls. Sektor and MK11!Frost embraced the Cyber Lin Kuei idea but Kuai Liang, Cyrax and Smoke were opposed to C.I. project out for concern for their souls among other things. Even Bi-Han, to some degree became concerned about his soul after trip to Netherrealm.

Believing in souls is usually a sign of belief in the afterlife, albeit after all of them went through (the change into cyborgs, death and change into Revenants) this is less a matter of faith (religion) and more first-hand experiences. And let's not forget that regularly dealing over the centuries with Shang Tsung who steals people's souls on a daily basis makes it really hard to not believe spirits are real.

Also, an interesting matter of Lin Kuei practices that could have a religious/spiritual ground and/or be an example of ancestor worship is the clan’s funeral rites. I don’t think we actually saw any Lin Kuei to bury their own (especially after warrior’s failure?) and for sure MK9!Cyrax and Sektor did not bother to take care of Bi-Han’s remains. However the sources provide examples of Lin Kuei keeping corpses, most likely of their own leaders or warriors.

And so, we could see human remains:

put in two coffins on each side of statue

hidden / kept in a block of ice(?) in chamber of Fallen Lin Kuei in which Frost’s frozen body was also laid, but on the altar

Cyrax’s cyber body was kept and guarded by Sub-Zero (and this is like the only thing that Kuai Liang and Cyber Sektor so far agreed on)

and even Cyber Sektor’s remains, even if just for pragmatic reasons, are kept in what seems to be respectful manner:

It could be just Kuai Liang’s good nature to honor fallen of his clan (I’m still not sure if Lin Kuei Palace is the new place for Sub-Zero’s clan or the ancient hideout) but even in MK Conquest TV series, after Grandmaster was killed by then-currently-Sub-Zero, there was the farewell ceremony with clothes on display (cause there was not much left of body after freezing and shattering) while new leader gave the speech promising to punish the guilty.

Which makes me think that Lin Kuei did honor their fallen warriors (especially those exceptional, deserving). Such custom and apparently common belief in soul could also support the ancestor worship - both as some ancient, mythical ancestor(s) connecting warriors into one clan (family) and tradition to follow in the footsteps of forefathers (Bi-Han taking place of his father [old timeline] or grandfather [current timeline] or Kuai Liang taking Bi-Han’s place as Sub-Zero).

My general conclusion about Lin Kuei is that its members believe in souls, have respect and use of spiritual matters (meditation?) and maybe ancestor worship. Whatever the religious / spiritual practices they have over the centuries, it is not something they will share, as the Lin Kuei by nature are secretive people who keep personal things mostly for themselves. The people that joined the clan (Cyrax and Smoke) maybe kept their old, eventual religious beliefs but overall, Lin Kuei warriors did not fear, care for nor pray to gods. They may respect god (Raiden, Fujin) as a person but not because of their divine nature. And even that would not stop them from criticizing said god. Which is pretty much how Kuai Liang and Raiden’s relationship looks like. Grandmaster is grateful to Thunder God for saving him but he won’t blindly follow his authority.

(Kuai Liang has serious authority issues, hasn't he?)

As for holidays, I can’t really see Lin Kuei to follow any specific religious (theistic) special day cause they don’t care much for gods in the first place. Unless they worked undercover and needed to act as normal human beings, religious holidays would mean nothing to them. The warriors may however celebrate their mission success, combat mastery or promotion between themselves or in secret, I think. Like, Lin Kuei did forbid friendship because it was considered warrior’s flaw yet we know some members either were blood-related (Kuai Liang, Bi-Han, previous Sub-Zero - father or grandfather, depending on which timeline is correct) or considered each other a family (Kuai Liang and Tomas Vrbada) and most named characters worked in duos so they have both opportunity and knowledge about each other to celebrate important matters. If they managed to remember anything from previous life, that is. Because from ancient to at least Great Kung Lao’s times most(?) adepts were kidnapped from biological families at a really young age (something around 6 years old). And Mythologies: Sub-Zero takes that even further:

Its warriors are chosen at birth to be raised apart from the workings of day to day civilization and are stripped of their former lives. Only the clan knows their existence. Each of them posses certain skills and abilities that set them apart from normal men. These abilities are passed on from generation to generation and honed throughout the experiences of life.

So, celebrating birthdays doesn’t sound like happening much, unless those with family around could allow themselves such luxury. The clan may however celebrate the day of becoming a fully trained and sworn warrior? Or the fallen warriors? Who knows.

Also, something worth thinking about: in Mortal Kombat Conquest TV series, when the Grandmaster presented newly appointed Sub-Zero to the rest of the clan, he “celebrated” the cryomancer's first official performance as the execution of two men who failed their mission. So, yeah, celebration of something special in (old) Lin Kuei does not necessarily mean anything nice.

(The next part of answer most likely will be focused either on food or architecture / origin of Lin Kuei. Let's hope I will get it written sooner than later)

<><> EDIT <><>

RELIGION <> ORIGINS / ARCHITECTURE <> FOOD <> FOR THE LIN KUEI <> ART <> CRYOMANCERS <> LIN KUEI SOCIETY <> MONEY & MATERIAL GOODS

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

So, I've gotten myself into a bit of a predicament. I ended up going to a church that a lot of people (many of whom are influential in my life) I know go to. I didn't realize until I was already sort of committed that they aren't affirming. I haven't really been interested in returning to my Christian roots until I started going there. So now, I'm stuck hiding portions of myself from everyone. The people I go to church with can't know I'm queer, and most of my queer friends are pretty darn judgemental about christianity. I'm not really sure if I can extract myself from this situation until I move in a few years. I've never felt more conflicted about my queerness vs my religion than I do now. I'm trying to do my own research, but somehow proving that it's ok just to myself doesn't feel like enough. I'm not really sure what the point of this ask is, but maybe you can think of some kind of advice, because I feel like I'm at an impasse with myself.

Aw anon, my heart goes out to you. What a painful situation to be in. You deserve a faith community that nourishes you in all that you are! But in this imperfect world, that can be hard to come by.

I'm not sure my input below is all that helpful. This is such a hard situation to be in, and what steps to take are so contextual, depending on the exact circumstances and your own personal experience of them. So if the following doesn't help at all, I do hope it brings you a little comfort to know that I'll be praying for you and wishing the best for you. <3

_______

Is the reason you can't extract yourself from the situation because you feel pressured by members/leaders to stay in this congregation? or because you actually enjoy going there and get spiritual fulfillment from it?

If the former, that's a really unhealthy environment to be in. My thought would be to try to get out of there if you can (big disclaimer there — you know the context better than i do; your safety is top priority if trying to leave would put you in physical, emotional, or financial danger). You may have to be really blunt and firm with people who try to get you to go to worship or events, which is never comfortable, but better than staying somewhere that is draining you. Saying you're trying out a new church community may help the ones who are influential in your life let go, because that might assuage any worry that you'll be "spiritually disconnected" if you go. If anyone has advice or resources for leaving a church that pressures you to stay, please share.

If it's the latter thing — there are LGBT/queer folk who attend non-affirming churches because they find some reason to stay there, whether it's the people they love in that church, nourishment they get from the worship or events, or something else. That's a rough road to travel, but you're not alone in it. I would advise you to ponder deeply whether you feel "more fed than failed" by this church, or "more failed than fed." It sounds like knowing this church you love is unaffirming is hurting your spirit. It is so hard to let go of a community you love, but if they are hurting you, starting the process of moving on may be what you have to do. One way to take that slowly is to keep attending this church while looking around for a new one (see this post for how to find an affirming church near you). For instance, one Sunday go to your current church, the next Sunday, visit a new one.

In the end, if you can't leave this church, it is good to know that there is an end in sight, even if it's a few years away. This is only one chapter of your life, and you can take what joy and growth you can from it while looking forward to the wider welcome and love waiting for you ahead.

______

As to friends who are judgmental about Christianity: ach, that's also such a rough situation to be in. I'm guessing you understand that they have reason to be critical; but that doesn't mean it's appropriate for them to always voice those criticisms around you — especially if they aren't only critical of Christianity, but judge you for your connection to it.

I've got a post with encouragement for LGBT/queer Christians struggling with criticism from LGBT/queer friends.

I've also got a post with some tips for responding to those friends. If they're truly friends, they will hopefully be responsive to having a courageous conversation about it so that you all can find a way to respect each other's beliefs and hurts, together.

_____

Wishing you well, anon. Please let me know if you come up with more questions or just need to vent as you continue through this rough part of your journey.

And if anyone else has advice or encouragement for anon, please share.

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x reader, Parker Holland x Charlotte Owens

-Warnings: Language, Blood, Death, Fighting

-Words: 3.6K

Author note: I really love this chapter. I love all the comments and would appreciate nice constructive criticism (please don't butcher my work lol) if you want. Feel free to leave in the comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter :))

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Word: 3.6K

“Haz are you okay mate?” Tom asked, seeing Haz freak out, they were about to land at Heathrow, on their way back from Dublin.

“No, I just heard from my neighbor that Henry never came home last night. With everything that happened yesterday, I’m just worried. I hope he is not lying in a ditch somewhere.” Harrison explained.

“He probably crashed at ours, everything will be ok.” You said as you comforted Haz. Oh boy, were you wrong.

Back at home, Parker awoke to his impending death once you and Tom, his parents’, find out what happened to their beautiful mansion. One party did all this damage. The curtains were torn down, there was red party cups everywhere and all the liquor bottles were displayed on the table. One amazingly epic party did all that.

“Bloody hell! That’s it I’m dead. I’m dead. I will never be allowed to leave this house ever again.” Parker said to himself. Picking up his phone he noticed 4 missed calls from you. Each one had a message and if there was one thing he knew about you is that you only left more harsh and frantic voice messages the more you called.

He only played the most recent one, you sounded really peeved “PARKER JACKSON HOLLAND! Please call me, I’m worried about you. I can’t get in touch with the staff either. I will be home in 20 mins, you better have a good fucking explanation for everything.” Parker’s eyes nearly flew out of his head when he saw that was sent 15 mins ago. Any moment now he would hear the Rolls pulling into the driveway.

The poor kid could only move so fast, he quickly gathered the liquor bottles and threw them into a plastic trash bag along with all the red solo cups that seem to be multiplying. All the meanwhile corralling all the squatters, from last night, who crashed there. He found some people by the pool and others passed out in the dining room. Running like a madman through the house, he caught a glimpse of what would be the reason for his demise. The door to Tom’s office was open. He swore to god he locked it, someone must’ve broken in. They could’ve taken anything, all the information about the mob was stored in that one tastefully decorated room. Parker quickly shut the door and hoped nothing would happen, he couldn’t live with himself if this one stupid party cost his family their livelihood.

“Rosie? Henry? Where are you guys? Mum and dad will be home any minute, I need your help.” Parker called out throughout the house. He didn’t expect Rosie to show up because of their fight last night, but where the fuck was Henry.

You and Tom pulled up along with Harrison in the black Rolls Royce, coming to a screeching halt. You all walked along the cobble stone path to the two large, intimidating front doors. You all simultaneously freaked out when you saw the door was ajar. Tom and Haz pulled out their guns and made it a priority to keep you safe by shoving you behind them. You all had no idea what you could be walking into.

Tom whispered to Haz to split up, Haz took the East Wing while Tom checked the main rooms. Rounding the corner he could her footsteps.

“Darling, stay behind me. I don’t want you getting hurt,” Tom whispered and you nodded in response.

“On the count of 3. 1, 2, 3,” Tom screamed as he jumped out, holding his gun straight ahead. He found his son disheveled, carrying grocery bags filled with empty beer cans and liquor bottles.

“DON’T SHOOT! DON’T SHOOT! Holy fuck! Dad is that you?” Parker screamed, dropping the bags to the ground, glass shattering and raising his hand up in innocence. Scared for his life her quickly caught his breath when he realized who it was.

“Parker, what the hell? Why the fuck was the door opened…. wait? Did you have a party!?!” Tom thundered as he realized what his son did. His voice gradually growing more furious. Parker just stood there with a shameful look on his face.

“Mum, dad. How was Dublin?” Parker sneaked to quickly change the subject.

“Don’t try to get out this, explain now!” You scolded, just as furious as Tom

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it, I just needed to blow off steam.” “What the fuck do you think a sorry is going to do? I run a fucking mob, Parker. Are you a fucking idiot? Parker, for fucks sake, anyone could have stolen some information from my office or gotten into the gun room. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m not that much of a div, I locked your office and I don’t know,” Parker explained.

“You’re not as dumb as I thought. Hope you were smart enough to lock the liquor cellar too,” Tom concluded.

“Yeah…about that,” Parker mumbled as Tom ran off to his liquor room. A loud clash and curse sounded throughout the house when he laid his eyes on his ransacked priceless collection.

“Mum, say something?” Parker pleaded with you as you just stood there in silence.

“2 months. You’re grounded for 2 months. No dates or parties, just school and home. I don’t think you understand how lucky you are that nothing serious happened here.” You said, your voice drenched with disappointment. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about what dad and you asked me and —” Parker whispered as he was soon cut off by Haz walking in.

“Did you find Henry?” Haz interrupted.

“No, I’m going to check upstairs. Will you check on Tom?” Harrison nodded as you ascended the staircase. Making your way through the halls, coming upon Rosie’s room.

“Roo, honey you awake?” You said walking into Rosie’s room

“AHHHH! Oh my fucking god! Rosie!” You screamed at the sight in front of you. Your sweet, slightly bad tempered daughter asleep with a boy in her bed.

“Darling? You alright?” Tom yelled from downstairs after hearing your scream.

“Mum, what are you doing here?” Rosie exclaimed frantically.

“Hi, Y/N.” Henry whispered, praying he wasn’t going to be berated. You were a mother figure to him after his own mother left his father and never looked back. “This is my house and hi Henry. What the fuck is Henry doing here in you bed? What the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned bouncing between the two of them to get some answers.

“I can explain. But, firstly are you gonna tell dad?” Rosie inquired.

“The fact that he is already fuming downstairs, no. Not right now. And please explain, you have 5 seconds, but first you need to get Henry out of here.”

“Thank you mom, I just don’t —.“

“Ehh, eh, eh! Shut it, I’ll deal with you later,” you barked.

“Henry, I suggest you take the window and your dad is looking for you,” you said.

“Shit! Thanks Y/N… I mean Mrs. Holland” Henry said as you shot him a glare.

The moment Henry was in the clear, Tom barged in with his gun in hand. Someone needs to tell this man to put it down. All morning he has been traumatically scarring his kids for life, first with Parker and now Rosie.

“What? Is everyone all right? I heard a scream.” Tom exclaimed out of breath.

“Umm, yeah. I just saw a spider.” You stuttered.

“Oh love, you can kill a man in cold blood but can’t handle an itty bitty spider,” Tom joked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“You're afraid of them too, Thomas.” You quipped with a side eye. If looks could kill, yours definitely would.

“And for you missy, you’re grounded along with your brother.” Tom said, looking down on Rosie. “Me? What did I do?” Rosie asked in a high pitched voice. “You attended this party correct? And since this is also your house, you threw it by association. Am I right?” Tom inquired.

“I guess so,” Rosie huffed.

The twin’s exile was worse than they prepared for. Not only were they responsible for cleaning up the entire mess but they were given a list of chores to complete. This was no ordinary list. It was devised by you and Tom along with inputs from the maids and capos.

On it read:

Wash the Rolls

Clean the guns

Reorganize the pantry

Mow the lawn

Re-order all stolen liquor and stock the liquor room

Drain the pool, clean the pool, fill the pool back up again…

The list was never-ending. Each task more pointless than the next. It went on forever. The household staff was happy for their load was to be lessen for a couple weeks, unlike the kids. Harrison even forced Henry to partake in the chores.

The kids were only a couple days into their quarantine and were already going stir crazy. Parker was having withdrawals from Charlotte, missing her even more. The boy was whipped for her, really smitten. They would talk the night away. Some nights never getting any shut eye as their conversations would prolong hours.

Parker couldn’t believe this was where he was now. One night of unadulterated juvenile fun equated to 2 months of misery. Today was Charlotte’s birthday and he was supposed to take her to the London Eye on a surprise birthday trip, but all his plans were ruined the moment his parents came home and grounded his sorry ass.

“I can’t believe your parents grounded you. Assholes.” Charlotte said over the phone, fuming he couldn’t celebrate with her.

“I can’t go babe. I really wish I could but I’m grounded for life remember.” Parker said, the cold shoulder Tom and you had been giving him was killing him.

“Parker its my birthday. You have to come,” Charlotte pleaded

“There’s no chance in hell I’m allowed to leave.”

“Geez you just threw a party, it’s not like you killed someone,” Charlotte added. He might as well have. If he killed someone he wouldn’t be burdened with this punishment, probably praised instead, carrying on the family tradition.

“Just sneak out. Come on, we are all going to this nightclub downtown. It’s gonna be awesome. And I’m such a good girlfriend, I can’t let you miss it.” Charlotte pleaded.

“Alright, Char you wore me down.”

“I knew it. Pick you up at 11 tonight.”

“Park around the block, I’m going to have to climb out my window. Remember my house is like a fortress.” Parker said. He wasn’t lying.

Meanwhile, Tom was in and out of meetings in his office all day. He received one odd phone call in particular from his dad, Dominic Holland. “Hi dad, how are you” Tom said as he picked up the phone.

“I’m fine son, so how did the talk with Parker go. I’m excited to teach him all my mobster tricks,” Dom exclaimed. “Actually dad, he reacted like I did.”

“Oh well, he will come around just like you did” Dom said encouragingly.

“I don’t know if he will. Anyway it wouldn’t be so bad if he had his own path in life.” Tom murmured trying to stick up for his son’s decision.

“Tom, you know what will happen to this family if that happens,” Dom yelled.

“I know dad. I just don’t want him to feel trapped, like you did to me,” Tom exclaimed growing more annoyed by the minute.

“What I did to you got you to where you are today. Your life is thanks to me son and don’t you forget it,” Dom said with a stern, menacing voice.

“Understood sir,” Tom quipped. “Maybe Parker needs a push, in the right direction.” “Dad, I swear to god, don’t fucking do anything. Y/N and I are handling this” Tom yelled. “We’ll see how that turns out” Dom ended the phone call. Leaving Tom frustrated that his father sees him as his own puppet.

The night soon fell and Parker’s plan had been put into motion. He bribed a few of the Tom’s men with his allowance to let him sneak past. He jumped out the window, carefully walked on the roof as to not slip and make any noise. Finally on the ground, he scaled the iron fence to be met with Charlotte’s ice blue eyes. She was dressed in a pink party dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

“Wow princess, you look *chef’s kiss. Happy birthday baby,” Parker said while making his way back to the ground.

“Thanks doll. Now come on, before someone catches us,” she yelled whilst hopping into her silver Mercedes.

Arriving at the nightclub, everything was in full swing for 11 o’clock at night. Parker, Charlotte and her other friends were treated like royalty the moment Parker let his name slip.

“Right this way Mr. Holland and I will have someone bring you a bottle of champagne, on the house of course,” the hostess said as she sat them at their table.

“Oooo fancy, you should drop your name more often,” Charlotte whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Oh it was nothing, love.” Parker said while pouring himself and Charlotte a glass of bubbly. “Seriously Parker, how’d you do this? If I didn’t know any better I’d say your dad owned the club or something,” Charlotte said dumbfounded, causing Parker to choke on his champagne at her remark.

It was amazing what power could do. Having enough power to make your enemies disappear was unimaginable. Parker knew what turning down his father meant. He would have the name and the look of a Holland, but he wouldn’t be one anymore.

How could he give all that up. He enjoyed his cushy lifestyle. Sure it was day after day of worrying about your image but, he felt as though he belonged in that world. How could he go on being a kid for two more years knowing there was a metaphorical expiration date on his life.

He desperately wanted to want to be like them, his family. You, his mother, are the strongest person he knows. Having you in his life keeps him grounded, literally at the moment. Also his dad, Tom is a very loving and amazing father. He was there at all the football games (English football) cheering him on and at the spelling bees, also when he felt his first heartbreak, Tom was there.

Family has been the one constant in his life. Now it was being eclipsed by power, a power that could ruin lives or affect change. Turning his back on his family means they would never get see his future.

No one would be there at his graduation from college or when he first child was born, only Charlotte would be there. The girl he hoped to marry and have his kids. He couldn’t give up his future with her, no way. Parker eyes glanced at her, mesmerized by her beauty. He thought to himself, “This was it. This, she is all I’ll ever need, my princess.”

Most of Parker’s pet names for Charlotte were derived from Tom. He had heard his dad refer to his mother as: princess, queen, doll, darling, love. The list goes on. As long as Parker had his princess he knew he would be ok.

They danced the night away. Song after song. Feeling like the only two people in the room. Getting more drunk as the night progressed and other guests started to fizzle out. Leaving Charlotte and Parker alone on the dance floor.

“Char, I think it’s about time we head home. We are the only people left,”

Parker chuckled.

“Just two more songs please,” she muttered with her head nuzzled by his neck.

“It’s two hours til sunrise!” Parker exclaimed.

“Just a little while longer, I don’t want this moment to end.” “Me neither baby, I want to stay in your arms forever” Parker said. In a moment of love, coupled with champagne and a few tequila shots, Parker whispered, “We should get married.”

“What? Are you serious? Do you mean now or in like 5 years?” Charlotte asked as her voice slowly diminished

“Umm… yes and now. I love you,” Parker murmured. “YES! I will marry you!” Charlotte exclaimed pulling her boyfriend into a deep, passionate kiss. Parker’s dream was coming true and all he had to do was leave his family.

Just then a group of tall, stocky men, all dressed in black, funneled through the door of the club. They didn’t bother with sitting down, they just stood there blocking the only exit.

One of the men spoke up, “Parker Holland? I have a message for you.”

“Can’t it wait til morning, just tell him I’m sorry and he can ground me even longer,” Parker replied thinking the message was from Tom.

“It’s not that kind of message,” all the noise drifted away as the other man drew his gun. Both Charlotte and Parker grew tense at the sight of his pistol.

“Charlotte, get behind me,” Parker whispered, scared for both their lives.

“Boy, it’s not from your daddy,” said the leader of the men. “Do you know who my father is? He will have all of your heads if you so as much lay a finger on me,” Parker responded

“So the girl is up for grabs?” “Charlotte, RUN!” Parker Screamed

“Eh, not so fast. I’m going to enjoy this one.” The guy said, seizing Charlotte in his grip and motioning for this associates to grab Parker. Two arms holding Parker back from protecting Charlotte.

“LET GO OF ME! CHARLOTTE!”

“Why you hanging out this rift raft? I’m sorry but he needs to atone for his mistakes.” “Parker..” Charlotte whimpered.

“Such a pretty girl and such a waste” the man snickered as he pressed the gun into her abdomen. Tears slipped down her face as she felt the cool metal against her.

BANG

It was the shot heard round the room. Everything stood quiet as Charlotte collapsed to the floor. The leader of the men shouted he need a drink. “NOOOOO! ” Parker screamed as he was let go and raced to Charlotte’s side

“Hey, hey, baby look at me. Look at me,” Parker said as tears flooded down his face.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve left.” Charlotte whispered with labored breaths while blood poured out of her wound. “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Parker cried while rubbing his thumb on her cheek. Blood pooled around them and he could only be focused on one thing, the love of his life dying in his arms. “Parker, it hurts so much,” Charlotte cried. The pain was mind-numbing. Threatening the life inside her.

“I know, love. Just keep your eyes on me love, keep’em open”

“I’m so tired Parker… I want my last words to you to be I love you. I love you ok? So much.” she whispered, then broke into a coughing fit. Blood filling her mouth and running down her chin, scaring Parker.

“Don’t, don’t fucking start that now you, hear me. You’re gonna be fine, we’re gonna get married and have kids and grow old together,” Parker exclaimed as her eyes threatened to shut.

“You said yes, Char. You have to be okay. You said yes. I asked you to marry me and you said yes.” Parker cried as tears refused to stop coming. Charlotte’s eyes growing more and more to a close.

“Please, don’t leave me baby. Charlotte don’t leave me. Don’t fucking close your eyes. You hear me. Don’t.” And with that, the hand Parker held so close to his heart was limp. Her eyes had closed and heart stopped beating. She was gone.

“No! No, no no, hey hey hey, come on, come on baby stay with me. Stay with me please.”

“Wake up, darling. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just come back to me baby. , I need you,” Parker whimpered. He burst into a fit of sobs and hugged her close to his body, not wanting to let her go because then it all became real.

The woman who changed his life, no longer walked this earth. The love of his life was gone. All the bubbling life inside of her, vanished like it had never existed in the first place. Parker’s demeanor flipped like a switch. His sadness became infused with anger, he was out for blood.

“You bastards! Why did you do that? She had nothing to do with this?” Parker thundered as blood coated his knuckles. “I’m sorry kid, but it had to be done” The leader spoke.

In a fit of rage, Parker grabbed the empty champagne bottle and smashed it over one of the guy’s heads, knocking the muscular guy unconscious.

“Big mistake, kid. Thought you were smarter than that.” The leader said as he stood in front of Parker and delivered him a swift punch to the jaw, flooring Parker.

“She really wasn’t enough of a message? Want her death to be in vain?” He spat as he kicked Parker in the stomach.

Several kicks followed, two more to the stomach, one to the groin and one final blow to the head, demobilizing Parker. He laid on the ground coughing up blood, trying to gather enough strength to get home.

He looked once more over to the girl he had loved, lifeless with a whole in stomach, knowing if it weren’t for him she would still be alive. Charlotte was the only thing on his mind as he succumbed to all the pain and everything faded to darkness.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort

[nolabballgirl]

Heyyy, I love the way you break down each clip and I thought of sharing my thoughts with you and your followers…

Here’s a controversial reflection on this season of wtfock:

As a Belgian Convert Muslim Woman with immigrant roots myself I really tried to understand the pov of yasmina throughout the series. At first I was mad we didn’t get enough information about yasmina’s relationship with faith, but then I remembered that this is not the same for everyone especially for belgian muslims, from what I’ve gathered from my muslim friends is that most follow islam because they were born into it without having a special reason for believing in it, least of all considering it when feeling distressed.

So then I understood what they were trying to portray. This is Yasmina’s story, she feels isolated and alone. So of course every clip is going to confirm that feeling. As much as it’s painful to watch, this is her reality and the reality of many belgian muslims with immigrant roots. I myself have experienced what it’s like to just apologise or ignore your feelings when your friends are being racists because you don’t want to be ostracised by your friends. See when yasmina realised that her friends didn’t understand her pov she felt like she ruined her friendship with them by ‘reacting’ to BA. That’s why she feels guilty, she feels guilty about speaking up, not because speaking up about racism is ‘bad’ but because speaking up caused her to lose her friends.

Now I feel like this is a very accurate portrayal of the slippery slope poc in Belgium go down to keep their friends. It’s not as simple as just drop your friends, find better friends,… . When this is all she’s known she will inevitably return to her oppressors while apologizing.

WTFock is not a documentary about teenage muslims or an attempt at a ideal world where every teenager respects each other fully. So I stopped expecting it to be just that. The reaction of her friends is realistic for the climate in Belgium. Maybe this was very intentional by the writers and their consultant Nora Dari?

Just a thought, what do you think?

as-salamu alaikum sister! thanks for your ask and your comments. so i appreciate your opinion, but i have a different take on the situation.

(1) problems w/ yasmina's POV - so we can't generalize as to the experience of all muslims, obviously. i was born into islam (my family emigrated to the US and i was born and raised here), but i spent many years in college/grad school questioning islam and reading and educating myself about the religion. so today i have a strong belief in the religion, and i'm not just a muslim because my parents are. i have friends and family around the world (both reverts and born into the religion) and each person has a different reason for why they identify as muslim, even if they grew up in the same country. and i find that even my friends who aren't particularly religious, still at times pray salah or seek comfort in qur'an/dua when times are tough (as seen very frequently in this last year with coronavirus related woes). so we can't generalize with all belgian muslims either.

so recognizing that yasmina is not the spokeswoman for all muslims, everywhere, one of my biggest criticisms of the season is that i don't understand how yasmina really feels about islam and her faith or where she fits on the spectrum i discussed above. if to your point that yasmina doesn't have a special reason for believing in islam, then why is she so upset about taking off her hijab? and what about her connection to younes? is it the fact that he's non-muslim that bothers her or the fact that she wants to give in to her physical desires? why don't we know? the fact that we are supposed to be in her POV, but we simply get clips of her reacting to situations without really delving beyond surface deep of what she thinks and feels is a major issue imo.

(2) take away message from the season - skam isn't a documentary as you so said. but there's a very specific history and reason behind why skam was created and the topics its chooses for its target audience. so what is the point of this season? are we telling belgian muslimahs or muslim girls in other similarly situated countries that it's more important to coddle the feelings of your non-muslim friends and downplay the racism that you feel? are we telling them that it's more important to keep toxic friendships than to call out your friends for their microaggressions? shouldn't we be telling our girls that they should stand up for themselves? i've had several experiences where people i thought were friends have made islamophobic or racist comments that made me feel so small, but i just laughed them off for the sake of friendship. and it sucks, and i wouldn't wish that for anyone.

in any case, it's 2021 and enough is enough. there's no reason to stay friends with people who treat you like garbage. why can't yasmina drop her friends and find better ones? aïcha is right there (for example), and if we are talking about staying true to life, my best friends are the ones i made in college, law school, and at my law firm - it's very natural to drift away from these types of fake friends, especially as you grow older.

(3) nora dari vs. muslim writers - it's so freaking unfair to the nora daris and hajar browns of the world, when showrunners trot them out as the muslim "representation" instead of having actual muslim writers as part of the writing room. if we learned anything from the #MeToo movement, it's the gross power imbalance especially between young actors just starting their careers and the older, more established showrunners, directors, and writers that can make or break their careers. so it's an injustice to put nora, hajar, and others in the position of having to defend any of the writing decisions for these seasons. no up and coming actor wants to have the notoriety of being difficult or stepping out of their lane.

so anyway, thank you for raising these salient topics, and here's my two cents on them.

[un-beel-ievable]

The demon brothers making plushies that look like MC 🧸

Author’s note: Please do not repost!! If you like my writing, please leave a like and a comment (and follow me to see similar content in the future :D)!

_____

Lucifer ☕:

• It's impeccable, as everything Lucifer does is. Lucifer's attention to detail is second to none.

• He tries to play the plushie off as no big deal, but literally everyone can see how much effort he's put into his handicraft. The eyes of the plushie are the exact same hue as yours are (Remember when Lucifer disappeared for a week and didn't tell anyone where he was going? I'll tell you now -he was wandering from craft shop to craft shop, trying to find thread that would reflect just how beautiful your eyes are.), and he's somehow managed to replicate a tiny version of your favourite graphic tee -down to the small imperfection on the printed design.

• Wherever he goes, the plushie follows. If he's taking a power nap, it sits on his pillow. If he's doing work at his table, it sits on his laptop, ready to help (however much a plushie can help, anyway). Even when he's in student council meetings, the plushie follows. (Diavolo thinks it's adorable, and has a miniature chair custom made for the "newest student council member". Lucifer can't decide on whether Diavolo is mocking him or not.)

Mammon 💳

• He tried his best, he really did. And I'm not saying that because the plushie he made was terrible, no, it was actually pretty decent!

• He doesn't have a clue on how plushies are made, but when he saw the plushie you made of him, he decided he wanted one too. But of you, of course. 

• He's too prideful (More like your big brother than you'd like to admit, huh, Mammon?) and embarrassed to admit to you that he has no idea what he's doing, so instead of asking you for help, he turns to YouTube videos and craft blogs to learn how to crochet. After restarting his 2nd row for the 76th time and having to untangle his ball of yarn for the 40th, he's almost ready to admit defeat.

• But then he imagines how happy you'd be when you laid eyes on the plushie he'd made of you (because "EVERYONE would want a plushie made by the GREAT Mammon, it's an honour to be chosen to be MY model." )...and suddenly he's crocheting like he's been practicing for years instead of hours, breezing through instructional videos and reading written patterns like a pro.

• His final product is slightly lopsided...but other than that it's really good!! Especially for someone who had never touched a crochet hook in his life before.

• Uses mini you to practice asking real you out.

Leviathan 🎮

• Is relatively decent at using a sewing machine. After all, he tailors his own cosplay. (And if a new season of 'Ruri-chan: Magical Girls Forever!' comes out and Ruri-chan happens to be wearing an outfit he particularly likes in it...sometimes he creates a tiny replica of it for his Ruri-chan nesoberi.)

• Ruri-chan has her own shrine in a corner of Levi's room...and now you do as well!

• Your "shrine" is basically a wooden shelf (painted in your favourite colour, of course) with a cork board mounted on the wall above it. Plushie you sits on a tiny throne on the shelf, with all the presents the real you has ever gifted him surrounding your cotton stuffed twin. The noticeboard holds a countless number of momentos -mostly photographs of the two of you and tickets from all the anime concerts and events you guys have been to.

• (The throne you sit on is a replica of the fairy queen's rose quartz throne in season 4, episode 19 of ‘Ruri-chan: Magical Girls Forever!' . Official merchandise, of course; there are only about 50 of the official ones left in existence. Ruri-chan had been perched on this very throne for over a decade, all of the other demon brothers were shocked when Levi dethroned Ruri-chan just for you.)

Satan 📚

• His plushie is perfect. Almost...too perfect.

• He's become an expert in plushie making after ploughing through an endless mountain of craft books and making his way through all the handicraft videos to ever exist. And his work shows the results of his diligent research...his final product looks machine made. Flawless. No one can fault him on technique...his work is outstanding. But somehow, something is still...off. It's too perfect, too lifeless. There's no personality to it whatsoever.

• So he spends the next week experimenting with different techniques and materials. He tries crocheting, knitting, making sock plushies...but somehow he still can't capture what makes you...you.

• Mammon notices Satan giving himself a brain aneurysm over this, and makes a comment on instead of trying to think his way through the situation like he always does, he should just "feel for it, you know? Put some heart into it."

• Mammon usually says some strange things...but this time Mammon's words actually seem to resonate with Satan. So he gives it a shot, and pours his entire heart and soul into the next plushie he makes. While the plushie looks virtually the same as all his other attempts, somehow this one feels different. 

• It feels right.

Asmodeus 👄

• Commissions someone to make the plushie of you for him

• Okay, so he doesn't make the plushie by himself (he doesn't want to break a nail). But he's incredibly involved in the designing process.

• Fusses over everything from the measurements to the exact colour (and I mean exact ) of thread they're gonna use to embroider on your eyes. Makes whoever he's commissioning do multiple samples throughout the process, and if he even finds 1 tiny fault with it he tells them to burn it and start over. His criticism is brutal, but if it isn't going to be perfect then what's the point?

• When a plushie is finally made to his satisfaction, he immediately gets down to the incredibly important task of creating a doll sized replica of your closet. He's incredibly through, there's even a tiny version of that one sock you have that's had a rip through the heel for years.

Beelzebub 🍔

• Poor Beel has no idea what he's doing...not even a little bit.

• He's watched the same crafting video so many times that half of that content creator's revenue is probably generated solely by Beelzebub himself.

• Where is he supposed to insert his crochet hook again? Oops...time to rewatch the video for the 286th time, I guess...

• His massive, beefy hands are just not made to do delicate handicrafts. He's already lost several sewing needles (pray to Simeon that no one steps on them) and his balls of yarn seem to be getting tangled up with each other just from him looking at them?? Oh, and he snapped a crochet hook clean in half just now, because he set it down on the table too hard. He's crying because all these things are happening and he has no idea why.

• Belphie walks in on the catastrophe and is pretty surprised to see his brother sobbing over a ball of yarn. Beel's never really been that into handicrafts. But when Belphie sees that Beel has actually set his snacks to the side just to concentrate on making this plushie of you...Belphie knows it's serious between the two of you.

• Belphie offers to help his twin out and between the 2 of them, they manage to finish the plushie within the next couple of days (instead of the next couple of years...which is how long it would take if Beel was left to his own devices).

• "Look!! I even attached a tag that says 'made by Belphie and Beel'!" :3

• (Please be proud of this wholesome boi.)

Belphegor 🛏

• Isn't that bad at handicrafts.

• He used to do them with Lilith, back before the war. She was amazing with her hands...much better than he was. She made him one of his cow plushies...he's always treasured it, but after she passed it became all the more precious to him. Her namesake now sits on the softest pillow he has in his bed...the cow plushie to lead all cow plushies.

• He's seen the way you've looked at Lilith (the cow plushie)...and knows while you don't hate her or it, it must be difficult to have a constant reminder of someone whose shadow you'll never know if you can step out of.

• So he decides to make a plushie of you. Not to replace Lilith (both the cow plushie and his actual sister), but as a symbol of his affection for you. To remind you that you're just as important to him as Lilith was (and maybe even more so).

• His plushie making process mostly goes off without a hitch; he doesn't encounter any major problems. He still remembers the basics, and unlike Beel he doesn't have the physical strength to snap his tools in half...he's too sleepy (All that potential nap time wasted on plushie making...).

• His finished product takes up a pride of place on his pillow beside Lilith (the cow plushie). Knowing that the 2 of you are watching over him while he sleeps makes him feel truly happy for the first time in years.

[devnicolee]

Into the Light (2)

Warnings: None yet but they are coming! 

[Chapter 1]

Word count: 4,134

Wesley’s eyes popped open to the semi-darkness of her bedroom, the lamp on her side table providing a soft glow to the space. However, the warm light did nothing to ease her thumping heart and shaky breathes. 

She wiped the thin layer of sweat off her forehead and pushed herself up into a seated position. Her head fell into her hands as she tried to slow down her breath and her racing heart. 

“When will these fucking nightmares end?” She whispered, exasperated at how her mind won’t let her just be free. All she saw was his face in the darkness haunting her night after night after night. 

Wesley checked her phone, which was face down on the coffee table and saw that it was just 2 a.m. She stood, stretching slightly, before shuffling to her personal balcony. 

The breeze hit her bare arms and legs immediately as she stepped outside, reminding her that she was still in her dress from dinner. She leaned against the railing, eyes closed as she breathed in and out deeply, calming her mind and soul. 

You are safe here. She repeated it over and over again through her inhales and exhales as if her words were the air that kept her breathing. It was a mantra she repeated to herself after every nightmare. Before the events of last week, she hadn’t had nightmares in months. But now they were plaguing her sleep again. She hadn’t gotten a good night’s rest in 8 days, which was no good since she had her first council meeting tomorrow. 

She gazed up at the sliver of the silver moon as she stood, avoiding going back to her bed where she knew her mind waited to torture her. And for a moment, on that terrace, she felt her troubles slip away momentarily. She finally understood it. Why Erik risked everything to get here. Here was breathtaking, here was magical and perfect, here was peace. 

She yawned quietly, realizing that she was not going to get any sleep now, not like this. She just wished her mind would stop terrorizing her like this, would let her officially escape. She was safe now, left her past on another continent. 

It should have been that easy… right?

***

Wesley never felt more out of place as she sat next to Shuri in the large circle formed by the leaders of Wakanda’s five tribes and the Royal Family. Half the circle were people she already knew, while the other half regarded her with evident disdain. 

“Thank you all for coming. First, I want to introduce Ms. Wesley Parker. She was instrumental in helping us launch the Outreach Center in Oakland, liaising with local officials and helping us make connections to better serve the community there. Now, as we take on more direct forms of aid and outreach in the United States and globally, we felt it was critical to have her perspective here so we can better understand the issues and historical policies at play so we can better map out our next steps. She will be particularly useful as we prepare for the UN meeting next month.”  

T’Challa offered her a reassuring and warm smile before continuing, “Ms. Parker, we are so pleased to have you here.” 

“T-Thank you, King T’Challa. I am honored to have the opportunity and excited to be here.” Her wide smile diminished a tad as she looked around to those she did not know, seeing her greeting was not taken well. An awkward silence ensued before an older woman, donned in black and gold, spoke. 

“Forgive me, my king. But are we sure this is wise? The last time an outsider came into our borders,” the pointed glance toward Erik did not go unnoticed by Wesley or anyone else. Erik shifted in his seat, his annoyance and lack of patience showing clearly as he listened to her. “He almost destroyed the country. And now you tell us that you have brought one of his former associates here too.” 

“I must agree with Elder Shani,” a man with scars, quite similar to Erik’s, around his face and a heavy blue and silver blanket wrapped around his arms interjected. “Offering aid to the outside world is one thing. But bringing them in here? It has only proven to be dangerous.” 

A course of “here, here’s” rang throughout three of the elders, all except a man whose lower lip was being held open by a lip plate and M’Baku.

“We cannot assume that Ms. Parker poses a threat to us simply because she was born on the other side of a border. We should give her a chance,” M’Baku offered, his voice and laidback posture giving off the air of boredom rather than genuine care for the situation. 

Wesley remained silent, eyes trained on Erik who offered her an apologetic shrug. Though this was unexpected, she understood their perspective. She could see, given the history, why they were distrustful of outsiders. However, that did not make it any less awkward to hear people questioning her motives to her face. 

“A chance,” Elder Shani scoffed. “A chance to overthrow our government again the moment the opportunity arises?” 

“See, now why you gotta bring up old shit?” Erik mumbled, not even attempting to whisper. Wesley stifled the laugh that rose to her lips as the Queen Mother, who sat next to Erik, pinched him on the arm to silence him. 

“N’Jadaka, enough. I appreciate all of your concerns. However, I have no concerns about Ms. Parker’s presence here as I have no concerns about my cousin’s presence or I would not have invited them. Every outsider is not a threat to us. They are an asset with perspective we desperately need. And they will be treated as such.”

That quickly ended all objections, as a King’s authority should, however, Wesley could tell his words did nothing to assuage their frustrations or concerns. 

She thought the hardest thing would be advising the King. It seemed the hardest thing would be winning over the hearts and minds of the people sitting around her. 

She remained silent for the rest of the meeting, partially listening to the Elders as they brought their tribal concerns before the King and partially decesending down a rabbit hole of insecurities. She wasn’t sure what she had expected. Not necessarily a warm welcome, but she also didn’t expect to be immediately and openly greeted with such disdain. 

She didn’t really pay much attention until the end of the meeting, when T’Challa directed her and Erik to sift through aid requests from other countries. It was time to determine where the next center would be located and that would be her first task and present their recommendation at the next council meeting in a week.

The meeting ended quickly after that, everyone filing out after T’Challa.

“Well that went… terrible,” Wesley moaned lightly as she trailed behind the rest of the group, hitting herself in the forehead and slumping against the wall behind her. 

“Don’t worry bout them, Parker. I got the same reception my first council meeting after everything,” Erik offered. 

“You mean the one after you staged a coup, killed the king, sent me and my mother into exile, and almost started World War 3? You were deeeeeeffffffinitely the victim there. How could anyone see any differences in your two situations?” Her voice filled with sarcasm and amusement. 

The pair dissolved into their usual playful bickering, bickering Wesley learned to tune out the day she met Shuri in Oakland because it happened so frequently. She barely listened to them as the words of the council tumbled through her mind, mixing and melting with the numerous insecurities that already lived there. 

You aren’t cut out for this. You never were. You were just kidding yourself back then, the negative orator in her head whispered. And now you are just going to prove all of them right. Prove him right.

“This was a bad idea,” she whispered to herself. “Why did I think I could do this? I am not cut out for this.”

“Hey, hey, Wes. Look at me.” 

Erik’s voice cut through the negative thoughts in her head, forcing her to look at him. His hand touched her arm, in an effort to get her attention. She flinched slightly, praying he didn’t not notice. But that was wishful thinking as she felt his hands still for a nanosecond before dropping to his side. Thankfully, he recovered quickly and moved the conversation forward. 

“You ain’t got nothing to worry about, Parker. You said the same thing when you started at the Center and we wouldn’t have gotten as far as we did that quickly without you. This is the same thing.” 

“Do not worry about it, Wesley. Truly,” Shuri chimed in. “The council is old school. They didn’t really agree with opening the borders to begin with so they take issue with any progress born out of that decision. They will warm up to you, as they did this one,” Shuri jerked her hand in Erik’s direction. “And, luckily for you, you haven’t murdered anyone. So you have far less ground to cover to gain their approval.” 

Wesley nodded, her arm running through her wash and go as she looked at them. She just felt so out of practice, so unsure of herself now. She hadn’t been this version of herself in so long and she was so different now… and not in any good ways. 

“You sure you good, Wes? Maybe all this was too soon after last we-“ 

“No, I’m good, Stevens. I-I just gotta get rid of these nerves. I feel so out of practice. I-I am gonna go catch up on some reading that T’Challa sent me. I will catch you both later?” 

She was desperate to escape Erik’s watchful eye. She knew there were still questions on the tip of his tongue, questions she was not in a headspace to answer.

She returned to her office, closing the door. She stared around for a minute before realizing that this was the first place Erik would think to come looking for her when he inevitably decided to finally get the answers he sought. She gazed out the window, the wild greenery of the palace gardens staring back at her. 

The gardens… as good a place as any, she thought. 

***

Wesley would not have looked too out of place as she sat, legs tucked underneath her in the palace gardens. She managed to snag a blanket, which was far more luxurious than any blanket she had ever seen. She almost felt bad about sitting on it on the ground but one of the maids assured her it wasn’t an issue. She was surrounded by books, her notebook, and her tablet as she read yet another brief about Wakandan’s internal social polities from T’Challa. 

She usually could read faster than this but she didn’t understand the history of anything she was reading, which required her to read through history books. And then, if something was important enough, she would write it down in her notebook. 

The melodic sounds of H.E.R rang through her AirPods as she listened, flipping seamlessly between all her materials. She knew it would have been better to do this in her office, but this was preferable. 

She liked this spot for it’s seclusion. It was far enough away from the palace doors so most people did not wander this far. And it was by a row of Wakandan roses… They grew in vibrant colors Wesley had never seen. Traditional red and white, yes. But there were bushes of red with yellow tips that looked like fire, purple, and midnight blue. She was sure it was the vibranium, which was infused in the soil - roses like that didn’t grow anywhere else in the world. When she first walked over, she noticed that a few at the bottom of the bush were starting to wilt, the natural process of dying as most of the sunlight didn’t reach them. And yet, despite their edges becoming wrinkly and beginning to decay, they still looked more beautiful than any roses she had ever seen.

Wesley immediately decided to settle in the small patch of green grass by the roses, deciding this was going to be her working spot. In fact, no one had disturbed her as she spent her afternoon sitting outside, until a hand touched her shoulder. 

Wesley halfway jumped out of her skin at the unexpected touch of a stranger. She stood up quickly, the tablet and open book tumbling onto the purple blanket she sat on, closing shut with a dull thud. Her heart rate increased to alarming speeds as she looked around as her body tensed up, only to find M’Baku standing behind her. 

He towered over her, blocking the bright sun that peered down at them, and casted a shadow of darkness over the small patch of grass she was working on. 

She watched as his face filled with surprise and concern at her reaction. She forced her lips to contort into a smile to put him and herself at ease. Though it was difficult, she imagined it came out as more of a grimace than anything else. 

“Apologies, Ms. Parker. I did not mean to startle you.” 

“No apologies necessary, Chief M’Baku. I-I am just easily startled.” She tried to say it in a joking tone but she could see it didn’t hit the mark… at all. 

He peered down at her, her assurances that she was fine clearly doing nothing to assuage the concern on his face. She felt like one of those wilting flowers around them as she waited for him to speak. She smoothed out the front of her grey skater dress nervously, still waiting for her heart to resume it’s resting rate again. 

You have got to relax. Nothing can hurt you here.

“Enjoying an afternoon walk?” She asked, trying to steer the conversation somewhere. 

“Yes. I do so every time I come here. I like to walk back here though. The palace gardens are the biggest in the country… most people do not venture all the way back here,” he remarked. “I like the solitude.”

Awkwardness spread through her as she listened to him, she felt almost like an intruder on his peaceful moment. She couldn’t tell if she heard annoyance in his tone or if those were just her insecurities flaring. That’s certainly what the council meeting reminded her this morning… that she was, among many other things, an intruder. Either way, she felt the strong desire not to push her luck with him, to simply get out of his way. 

You can enjoy the gardens another day.

“W-well, do not let me disturb you,” she said politely, eyes trained on the grass between their feet. “I should probably go back to my office anyway. Finish up there.” 

She mentally quickly resigned to working in her office from now on. They told her she had free reign of the palace and its gardens but it certainly didn’t feel that way. She returned to the blanket beneath him, gathering her scattered books and materials and stuffing them into her tote bag as quickly as her hands would allow but it still wasn’t fast enough for her liking. She felt his eyes on her as she folded the blanket and picked up her heavy bag. She slung the blanket over her arm and gave him a polite smile. 

“Good afternoon, Chief M’Baku.” 

She turned away from him only for him to call her name yet again. 

“I-I can walk you back, i-if you would like. I need to head back to my quarters anyway. Attend to some business in the mountains.” 

Wesley’s face scrunched up in confusion.

Once again, Wesley found that there was another person in this country that she couldn’t read… couldn’t figure out. His motives? His desires? She had no earthly idea. 

“U-um ok,” she answered quietly. 

He held out his hand, allowing her to walk ahead of him onto the winding stone path that would return them to the palace. 

“I should apologize for my fellow council members,” he offered, breaking the awkward silence between them. “They were rather harsh this morning.” 

Wesley shook her head, “Again, no need for apologies. Harsh, yes. But I understood the criticism and their concerns. They do not know me and after only a year of working with Erik, I cannot claim to know Wakanda. I am a woman of action. I will win their confidence by doing my job and doing it well.” 

She glanced to the side, finding him staring at her. Could she see admiration in his eyes? 

“That is quite good to hear. Most do not have the self awareness to take criticism with such grace.” 

“Thank you. That is why I was out here, anyway. Learning more about this place. Though I feel like I haven’t made a dent in it.” 

M’Baku’s boisterous laugh filled the area, causing her feet to stop. 

“What is so funny?” 

“You are not going to learn all about Wakanda in the pages of a book, Ms. Parker.” 

“Wesley… please,” she corrected him, already tired of the ‘Ms. Parkers.’ 

“You are not going to learn all about Wakanda in the pages of a book, Wesley. Or in these palace walls for that matter. You have to go explore, meet the people, experience our world for yourself.”

She shifted from side to side, taking in his words, “Nakia said the same thing.” 

He motioned for her to keep walking toward the palace. 

“Our future queen is as wise as she is beautiful. So why have you not heeded her advice? You continue to shell up here with your books.” 

Wesley bristled a bit at his words, suddenly feeling attacked. “Well, it has only been 24 hours. Shuri is already begging to take me to the markets on Monday and Erik has some places he would like to show me tomorrow.”

“Good, if you ever wish to see Jabariland, please let me know. I would be happy to escort you around.” 

“That would be nice.” 

At that, they finally reached the palace doors, the cool air feeling particularly delightful after sitting out in the sun. 

With the offices to the left and the private residences to the right, the two stopped walking, preparing to split off in their own directions. 

“I hope you have a great rest of your day, Ms. Par- Wesley. I will see you at dinner.” 

His smile was small but distinctive, making her return it with one of her own. “Thank you, same to you. Chief M’Baku.” 

“Since we are dropping the formalities, just M’Baku will do fine.” 

“Got it, M’Baku.”

The pair lingered longer than they needed to, staring at each other before he broke their eye contact and headed toward the right. She stood and watched as he glanced back at her a couple of times before heading to the left toward her new office. 

***

“M’Baku likes her.” 

Erik laughed, thinking about the mild flirting the pair carried on at dinner, the stroll in the gardens they had earlier, according to Okoye who heard it from another Dora. 

“Yea, he ain’t even trying to be discreet either. It would sure make our mad scientist happy. She was tryin’ set Wes up all year.” 

T’Challa rolled his eyes at his cousin’s nickname for his sister. 

“Okoye says they have a date tomorrow. A walk in the gardens. Though I am sure neither will call it that.” 

“They definitely won’t. But good. Wesley is a nun. Last boyfriend I ever heard about was 3 or 4 years ago? That girl needs someone besides me in her life.” 

You are protective of her.” 

Erik’s hands stilled as he shuffled through papers on his desk, only for a brief moment, as the words hit him. He didn’t look at his cousin, who sat across from him in his office. He originally thought T’Challa came in here to discuss their next mission to recover a Wakandan artifact that resurfaced in neighboring Canaan, which made extraction difficult. However, this had nothing to do with that at all. 

“You love her.” 

That statement caused him to finally still his movements completely and look up at his cousin with a look of confusion and annoyance. 

“I do not mean to say you are in love with her,” T’Challa clarified. “But you do love her.” 

As he thought about it, T’Challa was not wrong. He was just giving a voice to the things he never said out loud about anyone or to anyone. He shifted to lean forward on is desk. He scratched the back of his head before responding. 

“She is one of the few people who knew me before all the bullshit. She’s the only constant in my life I guess.” 

“And you never…” his voice trailed off but Erik knew exactly what he was implying. 

“Nah, nah.” The almost disgusted look on his face let T’Challa know he was telling the truth. “I love her like I love Shuri… or you when you ain’t acting aggy,” he muttered at the end. 

“That might be the nicest thing you have ever said to me.” 

“Don’t get used to it.” 

“She is a hard worker… I see how you two are friends. She is quite like you.” 

One of Erik’s eyebrow’s raised, “Nah, Wes ain’t nothing like me. And thank Bast for it.” 

T’Challa laughed, standing up and walking toward the tall stained window across Erik’s office. Erik’s office reflected his military training. It was cleaner than T’Challa’s himself; everything put neatly in its place every minute of the day. There also wasn’t much in the way of decorations or stuff. There were three framed photos in the whole room sitting on the large gold-trimmed desk: a photo of Erik and his father before he died, a photo of him and Wesley on Harvard’s campus in Boston, and a photo of T’Challa, Shuri, and Erik. Otherwise, everything in the office was there out of necessity, not decoration. 

Erik watched as T’Challa absentmindedly twisted his father’s ring on his finger, the same one Erik wore around his neck. T’Challa never realized it but he did that anytime he was deep in thought. Erik waited for him to continue speaking as he stared into the depths of the bustling Golden City. 

“Oh, she is more like you than either of you see. Brillant beyond belief like you. Desperate for love and belonging like you. Running from her past like you. She is you when you showed up at the border, just without the murderous tendencies.”

“You got all that from a dinner and a council meeting?” Erik set back in his high-backed chair, his boot resting on the edge of his desk as he watched his cousin.

“You seem to forget I have met Wesley several times before yesterday. You see what you want to see, N’Jadaka. Because you feel guilty, you overcompensate, as you have done with all of us. You protect her physically, no doubt, you help her revive her career. However, you ignore all the deep stuff… the ways in which she struggles. All the pain she carries around, visibly but tries to hide.” 

Erik sucked his teeth, ignoring the “overcompensating” piece because he didn’t have the energy to travel down an emotional road with this cousin today.  

“Why else would you take care of her that night? When she refuses to even tell you how or why that happened to her? When she refuses to tell you anything about her life before the day you ran into her in that coffee shop? And you refuse to investigate it for yourself?” 

“She was mugged, T… not much else to it.” 

“You truly believe that?” 

Silence. 

“Wesley doesn’t have a past to run from and no reason to lie to me,” Erik reasoned, trying a different route to prove his point… to be right about the woman he knew most of his life, someone his cousin only met a year ago. “Unlike me, she is a good person… If anything, she is like you - too good of a person, if you ask me.” 

T’Challa looked at him, a sad smile on his face. “Good people still have demons they are running from, N’Jadaka. I do not know what they are, they are not for me to know. But it certainly took more than a job for her to abandon her life within a week.”

The pair shared a pointed glance as T’Challa walked to the door, leaving his cousin with much to ponder for the rest of the night. 

“Good night, umzala.” 

****

@muse-of-mbaku​ @allinhishands​ @ms-reader​ @malasxlenguas @tchallasbabymama

A/N: Thanks for reading! Any theories on what Wesley’s hiding so far? Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

[fandomrewrites]

Chasing Butterflies: Earth Kills

Hello all! Here’s the third chapter of Chasing Butterflies. I hope you all like it and as always constructive criticism is appreciated. Make sure to let me know if you want to be added to any of my taglists!

Season 1; Episode 3: Earth Kills Pairings: OC x OC best friends, no love interests chosen yet Warnings: Mention of death Word Count: 2,214

Season 1 Masterlist

Elara and Clarke sat together working on Jasper, "His pulse is three eighty." Elara states.

Jasper's pained moans can be heard throughout the camp. "Quiet!" "Go back to sleep!" Delinquents yells at Jasper. 

"Don't listen to them. You're going to make it through this, okay? Promise." Clarke whispers to the boy.

"Can he just die already!" Someone yells up.

Nova abruptly stands up, "That's it! I'm going to kick all of their asses!"

"Nova no!" Elara exclaims. Nova turns around, fire in her eyes, "Please. Just get some clean water for us okay?"

Nova bites her lip but nods. She grabs the bowl from Elara's hands then turns to leave the dropship. 

Nova steps out of the dropship and takes a deep breath. She pauses when she hears a girl yelling, "No! No! No!"

She looks around and starts walking towards the noise. She lightly kicks the girl with her shoe, "Hey, wake up." When she doesn't Nova sighs and reaches down, "It's just a dream, wake up."

Finally the young girl's eyes snap open, "Nightmare? Wanna talk about it?"

The young girl looks at Nova with wide eyes but doesn't say anything. Nova sighs once more, "I'm Nova. What's your name?" She tries again.

"I- I know who you are. Everyone does." A small smile twitches onto Nova's face, the girl continues, embarrassed about what she just said, "I'm Charlotte."

"Well Charlotte, it was just a nightmare. They can't hurt you."

"It's my parents. They were floated and they... and I see it in my dreams and I just..."

"I understand. It's not an easy thing to go through. So how did you end up here?"

"Well... we were taking my parents' things to the redistribution center and... I kinda lost it. They said I assaulted a guard."

"Can't say I blame you. I've assaulted a guard before too. They usually deserve it." 

A brief moment of silence surrounds the two delinquents, "Do you have nightmares?" Charlotte hesitantly asks Nova.

Nova looks back at the girl, she bites her lips but decides to answer honestly, "Yeah. Almost every night."

"What do you do to stop them?"

"Honestly, I haven't figured out how yet. But when I do I'll be sure to let you know."

Charlotte smiles up at the older girl then lays back down trying to get to sleep.

 *_*_*_*_*_*_*

 The next morning, after some rest, Clarke and Elara are back with Jasper trying anything to help him. "The Grounders cauterized the wound. Saved his life." Clarke says.

"Saved his life so they could string him up for live bait. Garden of Eden this ain't." Finn replies.

"This is infected. He could be septic." Elara speaks, looking at the wound.

"Any progress on using the wristbands to contact the Ark? Monty?" Clarke asks.

"That would be a firm no." He replies, eyes still focused on the wristband in his hand.

"My mother would know what to do." Clarke mumbles. She pauses then looks at the others around Jasper, "Alright, hold him down."

Clarke starts to cut off the infected area as Finn, Wells, and Elara try to hold Jasper steady. He starts screaming causing all of the delinquents outside to look up at the drop ship. "Hold him still!" Clarke yells.

Octavia rushes in, Bellamy right behind her. "Stop it! You're killing him!" Octavia exclaims.

Elara immediately reaches out to stop Octavia from getting in the way, "She's trying to save him!"

"She can't." Bellamy states.

"We didn't drag him through miles of woods for him to die." Elara snaps, glaring at the older boy.

"Kid's a goner. If you can't see that, you're deluded. He's making people crazy."

"Sorry if Jasper's an inconvenience to you, but this isn't the Ark. Down here, every life matters." Clarke replies.

Bellamy shakes his head and starts going back down stairs, "Octavia, let's go."

"I'm staying here." She replies, eyes still trained on Jasper.

"Power-hungry, self-serving jackass. He doesn't care about anyone but himself." Monty grumbles once Bellamy is out of the room. He then looks at Octavia and continues, "No offense."

"Yeah, Bellamy is all that. But he also happens to be right." Finn replies.

Clarke starts playing with the red plant that the Grounders used as a poultice, "This stuff has to have had antibiotic properties."

"If we can find it and make it into a tea it would probably be more effective." Elara says, also looking at the substance.

Wells speaks up, "Let me see." Elara hands him some of the substance and watches as he looks at it. "It's seaweed."

"That means that there must be a water source nearby." Clarke says.

"It would have to be a slow current, lots of rocks. The water would probably be more red than green."

"I know just the place." Finn states.

Clarke stands up, "Great, let's go."

Finn and Clarke start to leave but Wells stops them, "Hey. I know what this stuff looks like. Do you?"

Elara quickly speaks before the three leave, "Be fast. I'll try and keep him stable."

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Nova has been trekking through the woods alone all morning. Not only was she looking for food but she was also trying to find Trina and Pascal. The two delinquents have been missing for a while now and are either lost somewhere in the woods or dead.

Nova pauses, listening to the woods around her. It is eerily silent, more silent than it should be. In the distance she can just make out the sound of a foghorn.

She looks down and notices hundreds of insects all running in one direction. When she looks back up she sees a mustard colored fog moving towards her. She instantly turns around and starts running. She remembers that she passed caves not too long ago and makes her way in that general direction. 

She prays to any God that will listen that she makes it on time. Not too long after she started running she could see the caves in the distance. She starts hearing someone yell, "Bellamy!"

The fog is now catching up to her, it touches her hand and she hisses in pain. She turns to enter the cave, nearly crashing into Bellamy. "Nova?" He questions, not waiting for an answer he moves around her to get out of the cave and help the delinquent that keeps calling his name.

"You'll die if you go out there." Nova says as she places a hand on his chest.

He steps away from the cave entrance and moves to the back, Nova following. For the first time since she entered the cave she realizes that the two weren't alone. "Charlotte? What the hell are you doing outside of the camp?"

Still slightly afraid of the girl, Charlotte is unsure how to answer, "She was with me." Bellamy answered.

Nova raises an eyebrow but doesn't question the older male.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 As night falls Bellamy, Nova, and Charlotte sit in the cave waiting for the fog to pass. Charlotte falls asleep, laying near the back wall of the cave. Bellamy and Nova sit on opposite walls. The two close their eyes, though neither sleep. 

"No!" Bellamy and Nova snap their eyes open at Charlotte's panicked scream.

Bellamy quickly shakes the young girl awake. Once she's up she instantly apologizes, looking at the two others in embarrassment.

"Does it happen often?" Bellamy asks Charlotte softly. Nova narrows her eyes at the boy, not used to him being so gentle.

Charlotte sighs and nods. Bellamy continues, "What are you scared of? You know what? It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you do about it."

"But... I'm asleep." The young girl answers, confusion laced in her voice.

"Fears are fears. Slay your demons when you're awake, they won't be there to get you when you sleep." Nova scoffs at his words, shaking her head.

Bellamy quickly glares and continues, distracting Charlotte from Nova, "You can't afford to be weak. Down here, weakness is death, fear is death. Let me see that knife I gave you."

Charlotte reaches into her pocket and pulls out the knife, handing it to Bellamy. He grips it tightly in his hand, "Now, when you feel afraid, you hold tight to that knife and you say, 'Screw you. I'm not afraid.'"

Bellamy hands Charlotte back the knife. The two older delinquents watch as she tightly grips it in her tiny hand, "Screw you, I'm not afraid." She quietly repeats.

Bellamy gives her a look that clearly says, 'you can do better than that'. "Screw you. I'm not afraid." She says once more, this time more firmly and louder. 

Bellamy smiles and lightly pats Charlotte on the arm, "Slay your demons, kid. Then you'll be able to sleep."

The two older delinquents watch as the young girl turns towards the wall and clutches the knife to her chest. After a few minutes soft snores start to leave her lips. 

The minute Bellamy realized that Charlotte was asleep once more he spoke to Nova, "What the hell is your problem?" He harshly whispered.

"What?" Nova glares at the boy.

"When I was trying to comfort Charlotte. Why'd you scoff?"

Nova hesitates, she looks down as she answers. Her voice coming out in a shaky whisper, "Because fighting your demons while you're awake does shit for when you're sleeping." She pauses then continues, even quieter than before. So quiet that Bellamy has to lean forward to hear her clearly, "I killed my demon and he still haunts my dreams."

A brief moment of silence hangs in the air, "That's why you got locked up? No one ever knew."

Nova nods, a distant look in her eyes. She turns her body away from the boy, effectively ending the conversation, unaware of Bellamy's lingering gaze.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 Elara and Octavia stayed by Jasper's side as Clarke, Finn, and Wells were out getting the seaweed. Night had fallen and the two lower floors of the drop ship were crowded with the delinquents taking shelter from the acid fog. 

Monty rushes up to the top floor, slamming the door shut. "Murphy's going to kill Jasper!" He exclaims. "The locks on the other side."

Elara rushes over to sit on the door with Monty as Octavia quickly searches the room for something to keep the door shut. "I'm gonna kill him, okay? Let me in, Monty!" Murphy yells from the other side of the door.

"No rush. We're fine here." Monty says, as Murphy continuously bangs on the door. 

Finally the pipe that Octavia was trying to get loose breaks off, "I got it! Move!"

"The three of you better open this hatch right now!" Murphy calls again. The three delinquents in the room with Jasper let out a sigh of relief when the pipe is firmly in place.

 *_*_*_*_*_*

 The next morning Bellamy, Nova, and Charlotte walk out of the cave to meet back up with the hunting party. "Anyone out here? Jones?"

Nova opens her mouth to scold him for calling attention to them when Grounders could be out there but stops as she hears Jones call back, "We're here!"

Once everyone is together, Jones and the others throw questioning glances at Nova but don't say anything. "Where'd you go? I lost you in the fog." Bellamy asks the group.

"We made it to a cave down there." Jones replies, gesturing in the general direction that they were.

We all hear a low moan, breaking the silence that followed Jones' words. "What was that?" Nova asks, head turning in the direction that the sound came from.

She pulls out an arrow, readying her bow, as she starts moving in the direction of the noise. 

Bellamy and the group silently follow, also keeping their hands on their weapons. Then a scream is heard, Charlotte's scream.

No longer moving slow, the group rushed to where the scream came from. Finally seeing Atom laying in the middle of the woods. He never made it to a cave and the acid fog burned him.

"Kill... me. Kill me." He whispers out. Bellamy kneels next to his head. Charlotte reaches into her pocket pulling out the knife to hand to Bellamy. 

"Don't be afraid." She says as Bellamy grabs the knife.

"Go back to camp. You too Charlotte." He says to the group. Everyone hurries to leave except for Nova.

Instead Nova kneels on Atom's other side. She sees movement in the corner of her eye and snaps her head up. Clarke runs into the clearing, "I heard screams."

"Charlotte found him. I sent her back to camp." Bellamy answers. 

Atom keeps whispering "Kill me."

Clarke looks him over then says, "Okay. I'm going to help you." She sits at Atom's head and gently runs her fingers through his hair and starts humming a song.

She goes to reach for the knife in Bellamy's hand seeing that he's struggling with killing the injured boy. She gets beat by Nova grabbing the knife though. Clarke looks at Nova in shock, "You've never killed before. Let me." Nova simply states.

She grips the knife then slowly stabs Atom in the neck, killing him.

[harrowscore]

Mikasa Ackermann, Levi Ackermann, Amane Misa, Aeron Greyjoy for the charactet ask :3

SOMEONE HEARD MY PRAYERS AND NOW MY TIME HAS COME, tysm!!!!! <3

okay, let's start with levi (my beloved):

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life (THEE little feral anime man after my heart)

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang (Dark, Tall and Snarky + piercing grey-blue eyes and chronic insomnia? clearly my type ❤)

hogwarts house: gryffindor (maybe....?) | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

ugh, the hp sorting house system is way too reductive. he has qualities of gryffindor, slytherin, and hufflepuff - brave, astute, loyal to a fault, etc. so it's a hard choice. but if i really have to choose, i'd go for gryffindor. i know that his Bad Boy facade shouts slytherin, but while he has larger goals (killing all the titans, then saving the world etc.), he's got no actual ambition for himself. hufflepuff would also be a good option.

daemon (from the his dark materials series): (because i've just decided that's just way more accurate than the hp method) some kind of big feline. maybe a panther - a black panther would be the ideal - aloof, predatory, dangerous, fiercely independent.

best quality: besides his obvious strenghts as a leader and warrior, the way he cares for his comrades-in-arms. it's very hard to gain his trust and respect, but once you have it, it's forever. he's pragmatic and ruthless, yes, but he also has a huge capacity for compassion and friendship. not that he would be effusive about his affections, of course.

worst quality: none, he's absolutely perfect ❤ jklsdfhjk jokes aside, he really struggles to open up (a serious understatement), idt he ever talked about his traumatic past with anyone. i mean, maybe he mentioned it to hange and erwin (erwin knew him when he was still an undergound thug, so...), but... he's not great with feelings. despite his apathetic, intimidating mask, he feels and cares deeply, but he has a long history with losing the people he loves, so he tries to not personally care about his squadmates, which can be both a strenght and a weakness. of course, he spectacularly fails at this.

ship them with: well, it's not a secret that i'm a huge rivamika fan, this ship is almost literally consuming my waking thoughts lmao. imo they're perfectly compatible: very similar personalities (stoic, the strongest warriors, absolutely terrifying on the battlefield but with a soft underbelly), very similar pasts/experiences, so many parallels that it's actually ridiculous, etc. i love how they're both each other's equals and likeness (yes, i took it from jane eyre. no, i don't regret anything lmao). a lot of tropes i love, too: Terrible First Impression (the Pride and Prejudice vibes are so strong with these two, you have no idea), Kindred Spirits/Mirror Images, Veteran/Young Prodigy, The Last of Their Kind, even Height Difference lmao. i could write a whole rivamika manifesto, but this is already too long. (maybe for some other time 👀) i would've loved for their dynamic to be more explored in canon but alas, isayama clearly didn't give a shit about the ackerman legacy, he just used it as a plot shortcut to give them conveniently unique powers, since they never really talked about it 🙄 (and before some troll comes into my askbox shouting "you iNcEsT fReAk!!!!1!!", they're only very distantly related. we know shit about the ackermans but we know for sure that they've got at least several generations between them. biologically their shared DNA is 0%, obviously they don't see each other as family, all the eldians have a dead ass common ancestor from 2000 years ago so they're all basically ⁓related anyway. if you really wanna scream about i.ncest, go watch got/dark/the borgias and shut the fuck up please. or alternatively go outside and touch some grass) sorry for the rant, uh. anyway, i can also see levi/erwin. idk if i'd ever care enough to read a fic about them (i'm usually a huge multishipper, but for some weird reason not when it comes to rivamika? same with braime and kastle tbh), but still, i can see it.

brotp them with: hange and erwin, obv. veteran trio >>> ema trio, sorry not sorry (at least h. and e. died before yams had the chance to ruin their character arcs)

needs to stay away from: ...uh, filth, i guess? lmao

misc. thoughts: besides the stupid teenage fangirl crush i have on him, i'm genuinely fascinated by the man himself. he's a huge mess of a contradictions, and yet somehow it works: he's violent and brash and kind of an asshole, but also has a strong moral code and integrity; he's obv very skilled at all the killing/torturing stuff and yet he has a huge respect for life; he's got a potty mouth to say the least, and yet some very aristocratic manners/tastes (the way he sits, his preference for tea and usually refined clothes); he comes from what's supposed to be an illustrous bloodline, he's methodical and very precise, and yet he was born and raised in the underground, he's been used to filth and blood and poverty since he was a child, kenny of all people was his father figure, and probably has known no other life than a perennial survival mode existence. he's "humanity's strongest soldier", but while well-built he's also small, the david to the titans' goliah, and probably not what people would assume a born warrior looks like. he's also one of the few characters who stayed true to himself and his original characterization until the end, bless you smol king ❤

(okay, this is getting long!)

mikasa:

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them (so much. she deserved better ❤️) | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! (stunning lady ❤) | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

this is actually easy: mikasa belongs to hufflepuff and no, i won't take criticism (just joking lol). enough with this "hufflepuffs are fluffy puppies/Cinnamon Rolls <3" thing: mikasa values loyalty and duty more than anything else. she's also hardworking... and fierce, strong, lethal. yes, hufflepuff and lethal are not mutually exclusive concepts.

daemon: (finally the better option) a she-wolf, fiercely protective of her pack.

best quality: loyal, brave, incredibly strong (alongside her more fragile qualities). practical and level-headed on the battlefield, at least when eren is not included in the picture.

worst quality: struggles to let go of the past (understandable, considering her trauma). tunnel-vision when it comes to eren, obv. extreme levels of delusions ("if only i spoke openly about my romantic feelings for him - as if i didn't made them abundantly clear in ⁓6 years - he wouldn't kill 80% of humanity :(((" lmao okay. just. okay), but that's more on the writing. she's sadly more static than any other main character throughtout the whole series.

ship them with: see above :) but recently i've also started to be intrigued by mikasa/annie and mikasa/sasha. also, i'm sympathetic to jeankasa fans, though i don't actually care for the ship.

brotp them with: EMA trio, especially armin+mikasa. their friendship is so beautiful and special. also sasha.

needs to stay away from: ...... eren, at least romantically. again, that's more on the writing than anything else, but e.remika unfortunately encompasses many tropes i loathe with all the strength of my old shriveled heart: childhood friends-to lovers where the (male) childhood friend doesn't acknolewdge/is completely indifferent to the other (female) friend's romantic feelings, she hopelessly pines for him for years without anything more than a cold shoulder... until in the last chapter it's revealed that he loved her all along and doesn't "want other men to have her!!! :((" (then why did you have no reaction whatsoever to jean's years-long crush on her while she was jealous of any vaguely female-shaped human being you were friendly to, including hange? are you that dumb, man?); the female character's development and entire arc 100% revolves around the male protagonist - she has no goals, no dreams of her own except staying with him forever and ever; the romance is based on an idealized childhood dream, therefore reaffirming those childish illusions would make the character regress, not actually grow up (and nope, epilogue!jk doesn’t count; that also lacks build-up - i would’ve said the same about rm as well, so it’s not about shipping, guys, it really isn’t - and mikasa needed an inner change; getting married to another man but still praying to eren’s shrine is not substitute to actual development lol). post-time skip she's never really frustrated/angry with him, they never get a confrontation about him becoming a, y'know, mass-murderer of gigantic (pun intended) proportions; she puts him on a pedestal, and never stops idealizing him/never sees him for what he actually is (the narrative framing him as some kind of tragic martyr/saint eren from paradis with zero agency and basically... no clear motivation for the abovementioned mass murder, and not the actual complex tragic anti-hero/villain motivated by revenge and righteous fury he deserved to be, does not help). it lacks a good or even decent build-up - it's basically all tell and not show. now, if they'd actually been childhood friends to enemies to lovers/mutually co-dependent... it could have been interesting. sadly, it's not my cup of tea. of course this is just my personal preference, no hard feelings to the shippers.

misc. thoughts: enormous potential. she's been my fav female character since s1 - and ah, i miss s1!mikasa, when she had actually other stuff to do besides mothering eren. i love that she's the strongest warrior (second only to levi, obv), that her skills are never called into questions despite her gender, i love how she stands up for herself and the people she loves, that she may seem cold and stoic and yet has a such a huge heart, that she's not perfect but also sometimes awe-inspiring. sadly, she never really gets out of eren's shadow; what she lacks is an arc focused on herself. that's why imo getting deeper into the ackerman lore would've helped (also, you cannot make the main female character and the most popular male character descend from the same Unique Bloodline or whatever, and never really make them acknowledge it out loud; as a writer, you just can't lol). my spite is so strong that i'm currently writing a ridiculously pretentious fic that's 70% development for her character, to give her a voice, and 30% ackerthirsting. (yes, that's the fic i'm always vagueblogging about lmao, rip @ my brain). if any other rivamika fan is interested… mind you, it’s in italian tho, and idt i have the skills to translate into english.

misa:

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

daemon: mmh, maybe some kind of butterfly? beautiful, colorful, and short-lived.

best quality: glorious fashion sense, more inventive and ingenious than fans actually give her credit for.

worst quality: shallow, impulsive, and obv her dependence on/obsession with light (which stems from trauma btw, but still… the very opposite of a relationship between equals).

ship them with: rem, kinda (monster/human ftw!). also weirdly enough mogi, a little bit? she deserves someone who actually respects her… though she’s far from being a perfect angel. she may actually be crazier than light on some aspects. but in this house we stan evil ladies anyway, so i have no problem with that <3

brotp them with: uh, idk, maybe matsuda?

needs to stay away from: obv light. also takada.

misc. thoughts: a tragic victim of sexist writing. she may be… unhinged to say the least, but she didn’t deserve the abuse she got from light (and from the fans). the female characters’ writing in dn is so bad that idk if it’s on purpose, to kinda mirror the reality of women in a patriarchal society (dependent on men, housewives whose life entirely revolves around their husband/boyfriend etc.), or just casual misogyny lol. it’s even more baffling since we don’t know the author’s gender (they may be a man, a woman, nb, anything really). i tend for the latter option tho.

aegon greyjoy (now, i wasn’t expecting him lol):

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life 

hotness level: get away from me | meh | neutral | theoretically hot but not my type | pretty hot | gorgeous! | 10/10 would bang

hogwarts house: gryffindor | slytherin | ravenclaw | hufflepuff

i’m so sorry, i haven’t the slightest idea lmao. maybe gryffindor? mind you, it’s been a long time since i’ve re-read the books, so i don’t have many thoughts about him.

daemon: maybe it’s cliché, but some kind of fish/squid lmao

best quality: ugh, i really can’t remember much from his chapters :(( he’s not a coward, i guess? (lame answer, sorry!)

worst quality: definitely his religious fanaticism.

ship them with: no one.

brotp them with: uh… his family, ig? except euron.

needs to stay away from: obv euron. brr ://

misc. thoughts: i genuinely like the greyjoys chapters, though i vastly prefer the martells (with the exception of theon and asha, bcs i love them). yes, they’re deranged. yes, victarion is… well, victarion lol. but the drowned god religion is actually interesting, grrm knows how to write trauma - every time aeron mentions euron and that freaking door i’m like… :// - and the tragedy of it all… just great writing all around.

okay, that’s the end lmao. thank you so much, love!!! ❤❤

[magnolia-penn]

A Helping Hand

Noriaki Kakyoin x Reader

A totally late self comfort fic that I wrote to help cope with terrible parents

WARNINGS: Just some Part 3 spoilers. Nothing that you wouldn't know after watching the fist few episodes. Other than that, there's none. Just self indulgent fluff.

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Dealing with Jotaro Kujo isn’t the easiest of tasks for anybody unless you’re his mother. He’s cold, abrasive, and a bit of dick. He detests people who can’t take care of themselves and hates covering anyone’s ass.

 

            Not a good situation for you.

           

            You had only developed your stand, Magenta Sunset, ten days ago. A week before your meeting with the StarDust Crusaders. It happened during a business trip to Cairo that you attended with your father.

 

            The night it manifested, you were approached by a man named DIO. He used sweet words and promises to help you better understand this strange new power you had received, as long as you helped him when he needed it.

 

            You naively agreed.

 

            He took your hand and whisked you across Cairo’s rooftops to his mansion, the wind and his deep voice almost drowning out the screams of your father.

 

            True to his word, he taught you about Stands and how to control yours, by inserting a flesh bud into your forehead and giving you your orders to eliminate the Joestars.

 

            You encountered the Crusaders in a small desert town, and you launched your attack. The battle only lasted about fifteen minutes, and you shouted your apologies the entire time.

 

            After being apprehended by purple and green tendrils, it was the redhead’s idea to have you join them, stating that your circumstances were no different from him. The old man agreed and ordered the teen dressed in all black to remove the flesh bud, and you were put under the care of the redhead, now known as Noriaki Kakyoin.

 

            It soon became glaringly apparent that without the flesh bud dictating your movement, you were at an infant level with your stand. After some deliberation, the old man, Joseph Joestar, and the Egyptian, Muhammud Avdol, chalked it up to inexperience. Everyone had theirs for quite possibly years, while you only had yours for a mere couple of days.

 

            With introductions and backstories out of the way, it was time to get back on the road. You took every opportunity to practice with your stand, and everyone agreed to help, except Jotaro, which was to be expected.

 

Kakyoin was your sparring partner more often than not. Under his guidance, you improved significantly, but you still faltered in defense. You always struggled to keep an eye on your surroundings and were slow to block. 

 

            The others would offer words of encouragement, but Jotaro would only scoff and throw an insult. His words hurt because you knew he was right. He was the strongest member of your team, and the team is only as strong as the weakest link. AKA, You. You started pushing yourself too far beyond your limits, to the point of exhaustion, and it was beginning to show. Your performance would drop, and Jotaro would degrade you more.

 

            Kakyoin was always quick to rub salve on the wound, though. Every word he spoke lifted your spirits and inspired you to keep pushing. This might sound cliche to say, but you thought you might be falling for him.

            Sadly, good things never last, and it all came crashing down after an actual battle. In a last-ditch effort, some C rated thug, who probably wasn’t even one of DIO's minions, launched a full-powered attack straight at you. Even the almighty Jotaro wasn’t prepared for it, and he just barely managed to pull you out of the way by the back of your shirt. He let you fall to the ground and quickly finished the thug off. He turned back to you and glared while looking you up and down. After a few tense seconds, he turned and walked away. He didn’t say anything. Not even a “Yare yare daze.”

That hurt worse than anything he could possibly say.

 

The other members of the group quickly came to your aid, gently pulling you to your feet and checking for injuries. You brushed them off with a smile and a wave. Kakyoin lingered longer than the rest, eyes filled with fear and pure relief at your safety. He embraced you in a giant hug, and you quickly returned it. Kakyoin pretended not to notice the way your body quaked in fear and how you clung to him like your life depended on it.

 

He knew Jotaro was harsh, but he didn’t expect it to affect you so severely. He worked with you every day, and none of his criticism ever got under your skin. But after seeing the sheer despair in your eyes after Jotaro turned his back to you solidified his belief that you cared about how Jotaro saw you. 

 

His mind was telling him that it was only logical that you wanted Jotaro’s approval. He was the strongest of the group, and Jotaro’s harshness was a way of showing he cared. Still, Kakyoin’s heart overrode the system, and he couldn’t help but get angered at Jotaro’s lack of sympathy for you.

 

Later, out of the prying eyes of anybody else, he talked to Jotaro. It took some will power to keep his voice even as he tried to explain your side of things. Eventually, Jotaro acquiesced, promising to apologize to you.

 

            That night, after everyone fell asleep, you snuck out over a sand dune to get some practice in. Every kick, every punch, every block seemed slow and sluggish as all of your pent up emotions chiseled away at the wall you put up. Letting out a frustrated groan, you dropped to your knees and cradled your head in your hands.

           

            Large tears threatened to spill as you tried to suppress a sniffle. You knew it was useless to cry, but that didn’t stop the tears from falling

            You were so wrapped up in your own emotions that you didn’t hear someone come up from behind and sit beside you.

 

            “Messed up that badly today, huh?”

 

            You jumped and quickly manifested your stand, ready to attack. Before you could, Emerald coils wrapped around your arms and pinned them to your sides.

 

            “Hey, hey. Calm down. It’s just me.”

 

            It was Kakyoin. Honestly, as much as you cared for him, he was the last person you wanted to see. He put too much time and effort into your training to see you on your knees, sobbing like a baby.

 

            “It is just you. What do you want?” You managed to push Hierophant's coils off and sat up, pulling your legs to your chest.

 

            “A reason to why you’re in the desert trying not to cry? A moment of your time? Penny for your thoughts?”

 

            You let out a half-hearted scoff and played with the hem of your shirt.

 

            Kakyoin chuckled. “A nickel?” No reaction. “A dime?”

 

            Your face broke out into a smile against your will. “How about a quarter?”

 

            Kakyoin rooted around in his pocket for a bit. “Aha! One quarter. You’re thoughts, M’Lady?”

 

            You took the quarter and sighed, setting it between you as a time filler as you figured out what to say. You always admired Kakyoin. His stand is well-rounded, and he was so strong. He never walked out into the desert to lose control of his emotions. You knew it would be hard to explain everything you felt in a way he would understand.

 

            “I’m weak.” You finally say after a long pause.

 

            Kakyoin blinked in surprise. “You’re not weak.”

 

            “Yes! I am! I can’t block attacks, and I’m painfully unaware of what’s happening around me! Anybody and their mother could sneak up on me! You did! I have to rely on everybody else to protect me, and there’s nothing I can do to get better!”

 

            You threw your arms around Kakyoin and buried your face into his chest to hide your shame. He sputtered on air, and he prayed that you couldn’t feel the way his heart sped up.

 

            He wrapped his arms around you and said, “That still doesn’t mean you’re weak.”

 

            “How so?” You asked teary-eyed.

 

            “Y/N. You are one of the strongest offense fighters on our team. Magenta Sunset might have lower defense, but you really make up for it in offense and improvisation. The others only wish they could come up with crazy ideas that just might work on the fly like you.”

 

            Your ears twinged pink at his kind words. “Even you?”

 

            “Especially me.” Kakyoin moved his hands to cup your face, forcing you to look at him. “ Look, you’d never be able to guess it, but Hierophant is actually kind of terrible at offense. Sure it has the Emerald Splash, but it works better out of the spotlight. And every time I see you and Sunset spring into the thrall without a moment’s hesitation, I get so jealous because I could never just jump in guns blazing. Hierophant works better in enclosed spaces, but Sunset works great just about anywhere.”

 

            Kakyoin suddenly caught himself.

           

            “Sorry. I was rambling again. But you get the idea, you are so amazing and so far from weak. I know I’ve only known you for a couple of days, but I really like  you, Y/N.” He accidentally confessed.

 

            Your eyes widened in surprise at the redhead’s words. You never imagined that anybody thought of you like that, not even Polnareff. When you didn’t respond, Kakyoin’s face lit up in a fiery scarlet.

 

            “I.. I mean-I mean! I look up t-”

 

            “I have an idea.” Your words cut off any excuses in his throat. “It’s crazy, but it just might work.”

           

“Yeah?”

 

            “Hierophant sucks at offense,” You said as you pulled yourself off of Kakyoin.

 

            “You don’t have to put it so bluntly.”

 

            “Sunset sucks at defense.” You twirled a lock of hair while deep in concentration.

           

            “I’m not sure where you’re going with this.” Kakyoin gently pulled his curl from your fingers.

 

            “We both like each other, and we will spend a lot of time together now, since you confessed,” You took his hand in yours.

 

            “Naturally. Wait, what?”

           

            “Why don’t we partner up and give each other a helping hand.”

 

            Kakyoin was going to ask about what you meant, but the realization of how great an idea that was hit Kakyoin like a truck. “Oh my God, that’s a great idea!”

 

            Kakyoin pulled you to your feet and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. He went on a tangent about how great of an idea that was, and you couldn’t help but to laugh and go along, shushing him to keep his voice down.

 

            As the two of you lost yourselves in tactics and techniques, you didn’t notice a tall figure stand some distance away.

 

            “Yare yare. I guess I’ll apologize tomorrow. Lovebirds are having too much fun.”