#searching for people who haven’t yet fallen into their state of being

[cakeleighh]

Blue Beetle Doodle dump with an AU sprinkled in. If someone manages to understand the au, well done, you can understand the mess that is my mind.

[please forgive any grammatical/spelling mistakes, my brain has yet to come back after it left me to be with another]

[vivakitkt]

A place you only know

Synopsis: You watch as your Empire falls apart into ashes. But only one thing is on your mind. Your precious lover, the reason why you haven’t lost who you are yet. But the heavens gather his soul too soon. Any where he would be, you would as well. But this time it was a place they only knew.

Warnings: Cringe(?). Angst/no comfort, fem implied reader!(reader is suggested to be a princess of imperial blood), bad grammar/spelling, !not completely proofread!

A/n: this is a refined, improved version of other fix I wrote when I was starting this writing thing so I decided hey I’ve kinda improved? Let me try writing it again! So that is what we have here! With that being said(here’s the fic Heavens Promise)

Please enjoy!<3333

You ran to the burning enchanted forest at full speed. Ignoring the way that your feet hurt from being barefoot and the way the thorns tore at your dress. As you made your way over to the palace that was once your home now reduced to a giant fire. While covering your nose from all the smoke coming from the fire you frantically started searching around for a blue and sliver familiar uniform.

You tried yelling out their name hoping they would be able to hear you. Pleading that they weren’t dead just yet. Finally, you spot a glimpse of a glimmering sapphire gemstone immediately rushing towards it, jumping over the palace rubble and flaming pieces of wood from the villages nearby. Hardly anyone could tell that you were royalty by your disheveled look.

Huffing and running across the fallen trees and burning bushes as you make your way to them barely laying against a rock clutching their side. Not breathing.

please

No..

You pled to no one in particular but to yourself to ignore the creeping thoughts in your head.

Almost as if someone heard your call, your lover suddenly erupted in a unsettling cough

/name..do not grief for me please/ they said with the faintest smile on their face completely smoother by your beauty even in the state you were in. As they weakly attempted to raise their blood filled hands to your face to comfort you as they always had done.

/ I don’t wish this to be the last impressions of each other./ They grinned towards you, breath becoming more unstable by the second

You knew you couldn’t save them. But you were the goddam princess. The crown princess. From the earliest age you could remember, you were trained to one day become this empires empress. But look at you in this state. No future ruler should be sobbing on the floor, covered in blood, and clothes tattered. No ruler could display themselves in such a vulnerable state. But not in front of them. You no longer felt the heavy weight of the crown and suffocating glares from the other nobles. You had to grow up so quickly that you couldn’t savor the moment of weakness. Being a child. Being around your loved ones.

But now those memories were gone now. Burned away along with the rest of your family and nation you cared so deeply about. And now the person that got you this far, was about to leave.

/Do not be afraid my love/ they spoke with tenderness, clutching their hand on their heart

/We will be reunited once again and nothing shall stand in our path./ They said with one final breath and soon life fled out of their eyes. Slowly but surely, they were now gone. All was left was their empty body that once contained the most precious soul. Silence filled the air with the remains of the raging fire dying down due to your people coming close to you. But surrounding you felt nothing but your own domain of sorrow and grief.

You feel a burning sensation in your throat that just won’t go down no matter how hard you swallow. And a constricting feeling starts as you continue to struggle to breathe. That silence is not held any longer as a threatening scream is let into the cold air. Uncontrollable tears run down your face hitting the ground, leaving a small drop of tears that is soon joined by others rushing down.

You feel empty. But you have your soul. It was not taken by those above yet. But you lost your life. You feel hopeless and don’t bother to wipe the multiple streams of tears rolled off your cheek. Your eyes and nose starting to hurt from how hard you were sobbing. Your vision getting obscured from the tears that brimmed your eyes. You don’t stop for several more minutes.

The blurring of your vision clears a bit now so that you could see the glistening sun hitting your eyes and various people yelling your name in the back. The lilies that gone through the blazing fires, seemed to have survived somehow. By a sorcerer or perhaps by miracle, they started to sprout once more as if to grief your lost loved one with you. As you began to recover and stand back up, you looked down onto your hand, that had been covered in blood and dirt, and stared at the ring your loved gave you as a promise. You continued to look at it and gave it a quick peak, despite how dirty it was, turned once again to your beloveds body and gave it a warmth felt smile before moving to where the voices led.

——————————————————>

Thanks for reading (∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

[kinglyisms]

♚ — @mundanemiseries ;; Elijah & Raven. ❛  please don't go, i can't handle losing you too.  ❜

   Elijah had been fast asleep, and quite comfortable at that too, Raven held tightly in his arms and his face pressed down into the man’s hair. He had fallen asleep while gently running his fingers over Raven’s back, stroking the length of his skin with Elijah’s borrowed T-Shirt pushed up a bit. It was intimate, it was close, but it wasn’t anything that they haven’t done before. Raven prefers to spend most of his nights here, helping with Silas and in Elijah’s bed. He never questioned it, the other fit into their little world so comfortably. 

   This was the first night though where he’s been woken up by the other, his sensitive hearing picking up on the words that were being mumbled from his mouth. Elijah wasn’t far from him, he still had that tight hold around Raven’s body, yet the other still searched desperately as if he was halfway across the bed. He tried to clear the sleep from his own eyes, seeing those bright colored irises searching for him desperately, as if he was having a hard time seeing Elijah in the dark and he definitely doesn’t believe that’s the case. 

   He shifts a little bit on the bed and drags his right hand along Raven’s body, to the front where it finally left his skin just to catch his hand. Adjusting the other closer against him, bare chest pressing readily along Raven’s own shirt covered one, he brought the hand he was holding up to his mouth and gently started to place kisses along his fingers. It seems like such odd words to say, he wants to ask who else the other lost, but Raven doesn’t share much information with him and he doesn’t dare ask. He cares for and loves the person that he sees, the light that dances in his eyes and the smile that brightens when holding Silas. When watching Elijah and Silas together. 

   The little bubbles that they blow together, the dinners that are shared at night and the comfortable cuddling in one of the recliners. Those are the days he lives for and that is the person he adores. When Raven wanted to share more information, he would listen but it wouldn’t change anything. So the most he can do, the most he’ll let himself do, is simply hold the other in his arms and remind him with the solid weight of his body that Elijah was still right here. 

   That he hadn’t and wouldn’t go anywhere if the world would permit him. 

   “Do you want me to go get Silas?” He asked quietly, voice gravelly from his half woken state. Silas would be an additional weight, an added reminder that the people he has been spending time with and caring about were still right here with him. It wouldn’t wake the baby to be moved from one room to another. 

[tristaspoetry]

Echoes of Love and Madness

A masquerade of goonish thoughts floods the starry sky. It is merely a fallacy of what must be conducted under this orchestration of musical thoughts.

The sky was auburn red on this winter’s day. It was the day I met you, and it was the day I lost you. I was a poet, a revolutionary, and an anarchist, brimming with patriotism. You were my queen, a lone deserter from the back streets of some bar. You were nothing more than a beggar. Being the patriot I am, I gave you all my cash. You counted it and smiled gently. I felt like I amused you. You grabbed my hand and gently led me to your place. It was the most romantic night of my life. You did not know it at the time, but you were my first. Now everywhere I go, I see clones of you. Is it just my imagination, or are you everyone and no one?

I searched for you, I longed for you. I would even kill for you if I could find you, if I could see your smile. I would do anything for you. Yet, why do they arrest me? Why do they send me away to Alcatraz? I’m no Houdini, so there won’t be any escape. But why? Why must I be here? I’ve done nothing wrong. All I’ve done is love like no other. Is loving someone a crime in the eyes of society? Do they ridicule me? They must think of me as Humbert and you as Charlotte, yet that is far from the truth. I’m innocent. I tell you, all I’ve done is love and live like no other.

It’s been days since I’ve been in this prison. Now you’re but a speck of fragmented thoughts, swirling around my mind and ruminating in my heart. Were you a blonde Californian dancing to the peppers and drinking in the blues? Or were you a brunette from New York, drowning in snow and sipping powdered milk? You could be both, and you could be neither. You could have been a man for all I know. I don’t have the faintest clue. Who do you think I am? Scooby Doo?

Are you alive or dead? Should I be sending Holmes after you? In his opiate-dazed stupor. Yet, aren’t we all Holmes now, with the internet buried beneath an epidemic of false head musings? Do you miss me, my love? Those drowned-out guards in this impenetrable prison can’t keep us apart. I shall once again reign supreme in our mating ritual of souls.

My love, I’m remembering you less and less. I think the guards are putting poison in my food. My memory is becoming hazy, my body is weakening, and I feel my life draining. They’re giving me these pills, or candies as they call them. My love, what am I supposed to do? They say I need them to forget you, to forget my past. Why must I forget my past? Wasn’t I fit to be king? Wasn’t I a leader of men? Why must I forget you when your entire being is fully ingrained into who I am? Without you, there’s no me. Without me, there’s no world. Can’t these bumble-headed buffoons see that without me, the designer of life and purgatory, the god amongst men, this world will collapse into a state of nothingness?

I’ve been in this prison for months now, my love. The memories of you are becoming few and far between. It’s like a decathlon of mental gymnastics just to remember who you are, who I am. I remember the summer days when you would just lie in the park, listening to the mockingbirds sing. Mockingbirds? God damn it, haven’t these guards heard not to kill a mockingbird? I feel like Tom Robinson. My life is being robbed from me by the prejudiced gravediggers of society!

How the mighty have fallen! Once a mighty revolutionary, the people’s champion of hope and love. Now squabbling like the homeless denizens of downtown alleys. All I need is my medicine, my love. If I had this liquid gold, this elixir of life, I could break free from these chains that imprison me.

My beloved. My beloved? Who is my beloved? These guards here say I never had one. That’s mighty strange to think, but I don’t even know who I am. When I first came to this prison, it was dark with the sounds of torturous wails. Now it just looks like a hospital. Am I in a padded room? When I first came here, I was a revolutionary hero on the verge of a coup d’état. Now I don’t even know who I am. I only know I’m me.

What I do know now, my beloved, is that you were my burning blaze of glorious insanity. Isn’t that why they locked me up in this padded room, and I took this candy for you to disappear? Until we meet again, adieu.

My love, maybe I really am Humbert, and you are my Charlotte in this web of lies. Maybe I’m Bob Ewell instead of Tom Robinson. I’m not the mockingbird in this story. I may be nothing more than a slithering snake, but at least I was able to see Eden when I met you. Now, my dear audience of nosy gremlins who by now I assume want me hanged, think to yourself, aren’t you just as guilty as I am? You look at me from your pedestal of purity and holiness. Yet, is it not you who let this happen? Is it not you whose first instinct is to turn a blind eye if it doesn’t involve you? Is it not you who are only charitable because you fear hell? If you want monsters like me to stop, do not teach your children to judge. You know as much as I do. You want nothing to do with those you see below yourself. They’re heathens, they’re animals, you say to yourself. Isn’t that why you burned them at the stake? Is it not because they were different? Stories like mine will happen time and time again until we as a society learn to accept each other as humans and as equals, despite our differences.

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check out my blog here Shadows of Love and Madness: A Tale of Identity and Redemption — TristasPoetry

[rat-typewriter]

Do you think I can request a small fic where bakugo is with a s/o that also has a hard time talking about their feelings but one day bakugo sees that they're upset and refuses to talk so he keeps trying to pressure then to talk when his s/o suddenly breaks down crying (it's his first time seeing them cry)? Thank you in advance! 🖤❤

A/N: Aaaaaaaa sorry this is so late again!! Thank you for this request tho!! I hope it's ok - It's not my best but im still trying to get back into the swing of writing again :'')

Warnings: y’all are hella sad in this one - but its okaY IN THE END

Bakugou x gn!reader

Proofread?: well yes but actually no

Going To Be Okay.

Your time at UA had been tough - you had learnt so much and gotten so much stronger. Your dream of helping others and making a difference was closer than ever. Yet that never seemed to be enough for the voices of self-doubt in your head. They never really fully quietened, but - on some days it was impossible to focus through the heavy fog that seemed to settle over your mind.

Today was one of those days. The effort that it took to pull your stiff body from your bed left you exhausted. Trying to think clearly seemed to be a hopeless pursuit. Over the last few weeks - you had felt yourself slipping into this mind-numbing state, but today was worse.

Despite your head’s endless aching, you managed to make your way through all of the day’s training and classes; you even managed some light conversation with your classmates. They picked up on your sadness - but you brushed them off and reassured them that you were fine. You had mostly avoided Bakugou during training - you’d been dating a while, but you still didn’t like being seen like this. This was the first time that it had gotten this bad while you were at UA.

By the end of the day - you felt relieved to have finally made it through. You were walking back to your room; the halls were quiet - most people were still eating or training. Your hand had barely touched the door handle when you heard someone behind you.

“Hey.”

You froze, recognising Bakugou’s voice immediately. You paused for a moment - staring blankly at the door in front of you - trying to regather your thoughts.

“Y/N. I’m talking to you.” He said again. You turned to face him, but you didn’t look him in the eyes.

“Hi,” You replied, quickly rushing to explain yourself. “Sorry, I was just heading to bed early, I’m just really tired after today-”

“Y/N,” He said again - his tone still sharp.

You finally forced yourself to look him in the eyes. He had pretty eyes - you told him that once. He didn’t think so. But you disagreed, they were dark and warm and somewhat comforting. His eyes searched yours, solemnly. Your words seemed to catch in your throat.

“Where were you today?”

“What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,”He said simply. “If I’ve done something, then you can just tell me. You don’t have to pretend.”

“Oh, no! No - you haven’t done anything at all!” You spluttered, it was jarring to hear him speak like this. He seemed sheepish - even a little embarrassed. You quickly forced a smile onto your face, “It’s just been a bit of a tough day, that’s all,”

It was quiet. You tried desperately to gauge his reaction - you weren’t worried about his anger; you trusted him - you were more worried about his believing you. You wished you could explain - you felt like a liar, always telling him that you were fine; always laughing and smiling when he looked your way. Sometimes you wondered if he’d really fallen for you, or if he’d fallen for who you pretended to be.

The silence was thick - you couldn’t find words to fill it. His gaze was unreadable and unwavering. He glanced away, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked, his voice quiet. It had lost its normal roughness and instead had taken on a more hoarse softness. You stared at the blonde boy and he glanced back up at you. “I care about you. I don’t know what your life is like - but I care about you. I want to help; if you need me - I’m here.”

You could feel your heart thumping in your chest. He spoke so sincerely - you had fallen for Bakugou’s determination and fierce loyalty - but hearing the honesty and compassion in his voice, left you breathless all over again. You struggled to find words for what felt like the millionth time that day.

Feeling a lump forming in your throat, you covered your mouth and whispered. “I’m sorry.”

You stared downwards, ashamed as you felt hot tears spilling down your face. You felt stupid and worthless all over again.

You felt Bakugou move closer and wrap his arms around you - tucking your head beneath his chin. Your hands made fists in his shirt as you cried. His voice was low and soothing as he whispered into your hair.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“Take a deep breath for me.”

“I’ve got you.”

He rubbed you back as you shook gently. You weren’t sure how long you stood in the hallway - but you stayed wrapped in his arms, listening to the sound of his voice, until your tears had subsided.

Eventually he pulled back and looked down at you. “You never have to do this alone. If we’re going to make this work, then we’re going to get through this together.”

You smiled. “Thanks, ‘Suki,”

“And you’re strong as fuck, you could beat the shit out of your own bad days.”

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

I saw your prompt requests so can I... request no. 12 with GE / SE Saeran? It's hard for me to choose, so just pick what do you want, or it's okay if you want to write both😋

things you said when you thought I was asleep

SE Saeran x gender neutral reader | Words: 903 | prompt list

SE FLUFF SE FLUFF SE FLUFF

Something was oddly comforting about your sleeping figure in the grass.

He had sensed the Sun's warmth making you sleepy. Seen the slight droop of your eyelids and heard your occasional yawn as you softly twirled his fiery locks. Your gentle fingers had traced slow patterns between the freckles on his face as you had told him you were going to take a nap.

'Ok,' he'd said. You knew he would be there when you woke up.

He sat quietly. It somehow felt wrong to look down at you while you hadn't yet fallen asleep. Perhaps it was some internalised fear of being watched when he was most vulnerable; a feeling of dread that he may never wake up when he closed his eyes. He watched the clouds instead.

Saeran had a limited scope of the world but from all he'd experienced, it was hard not to believe that his suffering was all life had to offer, and he was far too tired to keep hoping and searching for anything more.

You, however, were a shining anomaly in what he'd accepted the world to be. One code he couldn't quite crack. (Oh, but you were so much more than that. You were a person. You brought change into his life that was frightening and beautiful. You were a Someone — not a something.) For a time, it had been frustrating, but now he found peace in the notion that you wouldn't easily unravel and shatter in his hands.

You were kind and honest. And always patient with him. You enquired but didn’t push. You could keep up with his sharp mouth but were never cruel. It was scary — being this attached to someone again (this fact alone had been a struggle to admit to himself). But you let him go at his own pace. Reminded him he had choices. With each fragment of the tumultuous storm that was revealed to you, you never saw him as any less of a person. When he spoke, you listened. You would thank him for trusting you. You would say you were proud of how far he’d come, even when he felt like it wasn’t much at all. You made him feel like slightly less of a monster with a Sidam touch who could only be burned by the light. You weren’t perfect but you were his.

Saeran picked a daisy from the ground in front of him. Spun the stem idly between his thumb and forefinger.

And he couldn't help it now: He took a peek in your direction. You looked comfortable (and rather breathtaking, in all honesty, with the sunlight bouncing off your features as your chest rose and fell slowly). Were you already asleep?

Tentatively, he reached towards you and tucked some loose strands of hair behind your ear. You didn’t stir; there was only the steady movement of your chest and the soft sound of your breathing.

He reached out to the little flowers around him one at a time, splitting the stems and weaving a chain of dainty blossoms with careful, skilled hands.

‘You’re so strange.’

The Sun moved slowly across the sky. A light breeze brought you gently from your slumber into a dreamy but comfortable, half-aware state. You felt too lethargic to move or speak, instead simply enjoying the warmth with your eyes closed.

Meanwhile, the young man sat cross-legged beside you, intently focused on the growing flower chain beginning to pool in his lap.

Saeran liked to feel in control of a situation. Your failure to comply with his expectations of people could be what made him uneasy at times and was likely the reason he felt reassured seeing you asleep peacefully on the ground. Still, he did not understand how you would continue to allow yourself to be so vulnerable around him, time and time again.

He began to think aloud as he worked. Old habits die hard, he figured.

‘I don’t know why you haven’t left yet…’

He stretched a bit to pluck another small flower that was just out of reach.

‘Everyone… Everyone who was this kind always hurt me or disappeared altogether.’ He frowned. He didn’t like to think about these things or recall these feelings. He didn’t want to entertain the idea that you would either leave or hurt him one day but it felt inevitable. He didn’t understand why you had stayed thus far. And yet he hoped you wouldn’t leave.

His task provided him an iota of distraction, at least. He connected the ends of the chain to form a loop roughly the circumference of your head.

‘But in the end, I’m no better than the ones that hurt me. You… are so warm and I… I wish I could be what you deserve. What you see in me.’

Saeran looked down at his hands and at the golden, imperfect halo he’d made for you.

Dandelions. Warm and yellow, with a few daisies in between.

Maybe… maybe it was okay to hope. Just a little.

You heard every word, fighting the urge to open your eyes wide and fling yourself into his arms and kiss the worries from his temples.

The clouds shifted and reformed. The grass rippled in the breeze. The Sun shone. And he, hesitant as he may be, loved you.

[soulmeshart]

Why Stolitz will be endgame

Since the latest episode of Helluva Boss dropped (episode 5) I’ve been seeing a lot of people simply pointing out that Stolitz is problematic and toxic and that it shouldn’t be shipped. However these people never really think about the fact that  a) this is only the fifth episode b) where the ship is heading So I’m here to talk about that. What we’ve seen in these first 5 episodes is simply a look at what the relationship between these two is and who they are individually. This episode in particular was great because it pointed out two important things to us: 1. Blitzo doesn’t hate Stolas’ and deep down probably craves some sort of romantic relationship between them 2. The core issues of their current relationship Let me elaborate both of these 1. So far we’ve had the impression that Stolas is simply a nuisance to Blitzo and that he is simply using him for the book. All of their interactions up until this episode we’re pretty negative and made it seem like their relationship is purely sexual and that it exists for business reasons only. Episode 2 let us know that Stolas wants to get Blitzo involved in his life outside of the whole “transactional fucking” thing and this episode let us know that, well, Blitzo really doesn’t mind that. Think back to the first scene in episode 5. If Blitzo only wanted a purely professional relationship with Stolas or even hated him(as some people believe for whatever reason), he wouldn’t have agreed to go to the Harvest Moon Festival. There was nothing for him to gain by going there and he agrees to the invite without any real hesitation. This let’s us know that Blitzo doesn’t hate Stolas and is fine with being involved with him outside of their deal. Now for the “craving for some sort of romantic relationship part”. There are 2 hints about this in the episode. The first one comes in the scene where Blitzo tries to explain his relationship with Stolas to Striker and gets really emberassed. Remember what Striker says: “So you even conned that ditzy blue blood into getting you to the surface.” If this was the case Blitzo probably would’ve been proud of himself and simply confirmed that what Striker just said was true. But that wasn’t what happened. He got flustered and started fumbling his words around. The second hint is in the scene when Blitzo finds out that Striker is planning to assassinate Stolas. Striker tries to get to Blitzo to get him to join his side. He keeps telling him things that clearly bother Blitzo. For example: how the system is rigged against him. In those things he also lists the fact that Blitzo is being treated by Stolas as a toy/plaything. Now, why would Blitzo be bothered by this if his and Stolas’ relationship really is purely transactional. If that were the case then they’re both just using eachother and that’s the end of that. Blitzo is using Stolas for the book and Stolas is using Blitzo for sexual favors. Now weather this is or isn’t the case isn’t important here, what’s important is the fact that Blitzo doesn’t want this to be the case. Aka he wants his relationship with Stolas to be something more.

2. Now let’s look at the core issues of their relationship which are all presented in this episode very nicely. Stolas does a lot of condescending things to Blitzo throughout the episode. He baby-talks to him twice, puts out a cigar on his horn (though we know fire doesn’t hurt imps, it’s still disrespectful), he shows him off in public like he’s some sort of thing, etc. Now let me clear this up first, Stolas’ intentions aren’t malicious. He loves and cares about Blitzo. When it comes to the show, we know this because a) If Stolas just wanted to fuck an imp, he could’ve gone to way less trouble to do so and wouldn’t have to lend out his book which is VERY important b) He wouldn’t try to get Blitzo involved with his personal life and the most important person in his life, his daughter. A parent introducing their SO to their child is a pretty big deal. Now Stolas should’ve considered both Blitzo’s and Octavia’s feelings before doing that however we know that he really isn’t experienced with healthy relationships with other people (romantic and platonic). If we’re talking outside of the show, there are official instagram accounts for all of the Helluva Boss characters. The two most active ones are actually Blitzo’s and Stolas’ (jeez i wonder why). Now these accounts we’re confirmed to not be a 100% canon in the sense that not everything that happens there happened in the actual universe of the show. However Viv has stated that these accounts are ran by people who know all of the characters PRETTY GOOD. And in case you haven’t seen these accounts, Blitzo and Stolas have a lot and i mean A LOT of very positive interactions there. Sure we will occasionally get a horny comment left by Stolas’ on one of Blitzo’s posts or even a horny post of his own regarding Blitzo. But what we see more is just genuine wholesome stuff between the two. For example: Stolas constantly leaving positive comments on Blitzo’s posts such as telling him to have fun when he goes to hang out with either Loona or M&M, him supporting Blitzo’s passion for art and horses, we also get to see him putting up missing posters and searching for Blitzo at one point when Blitzo get’s lost. We see him visiting Blitzo to take care of him when he’s sick,etc. The list goes on and on. Obviously most of this didn’t happen but what’s important is the fact that Stolas clearly cares about Blitzo, like, a lot actually. The show hasn’t gone to this point yet but this is clearly where it’s headed. Plus the official twitter account for Helluva Boss reposts a ton of Stolitz fanart and they don’t do this for other ships, except M&M.

Now back to the issues of the relationship. All of the things I’ve listed (the baby talk, the cigar thing,etc.) wouldn’t seem like much of an issue IF there clearly wasn’t a class difference between them. In this episode the show REALLY let’s us know how bad imps have it. It’s rare to see them start businesses, the system is rigged against them, Stolas is also kind of condescending to them in his speech (though it’s obvious he actually does like imps and he isn’t intentionally being like this. He even calls the Harvest Moon Festival “charming”). I don’t think he realizes how inappropriate his behavior is. I think future episodes will almost a 100% tackle the topic of Stolas’ realizing how different the lives of imps are from his. This will also let him have a better understanding of Blitzo. All of his actions towards Blitzo through the episode, even thought they’re made with good intent, to Blitzo it just seems like Stolas sees him as a toy (even thought this isn’t the case).

In short, on one side we have Blitzo who is craving a romantic relationship (specifically with Stolas) but believes that Stolas is simply using him for sexual reasons and deeply dislikes his unintentionally condescending attitude towards him, and on the other side we have Stolas, who had lead a loveless life for years and has finally fallen for someone but is too blinded by his infatuation for Blitzo and the thrill of love to consider how Blitzo is feeling and the difference between their positions.

Now, this ship is going to be an end game ship a 100%. What we’ve seen so far is only what the starting point of their relationship is. They’re both going to grow as the show goes on and so will their relationship. Stolas will learn to consider other peoples emotions (which isn’t only a problem specifically related to Blitzo but also his daughter), the struggles of imps and how to properly convey his emotions so that Blitzo doesn’t mistake them as purely sexual. And Blitzo will also need to learn how to open up his heart and to stop running away from others (which is something he does I’m assuming, it looks like he ran away from his relationship with Verosika and it seems like their relationship was p serious given the fact she has a tattoo with his name).

Also while I do think Striker and Blitzo have a fun dynamic, I don’t think this is even an option as an end game ship. The sexual tension was high but that’s about it. Plus Striker was trying to manipulate Blitzo which isn’t cool in my book. Not against the ship tho.

So yeah, gonna reblog this when these 2 idiots (stolas and blitzo) get together with a big “told ya so”.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Sand and Sea Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 砂海之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Warning: There are mentions of blood and self-injury! 

[ This date was released on 28 April 2021 ]

Legend tells of two lovers. Because of the pressures of their nations, they could not be together, and decided to drown themselves in a river for love.

Because of this, the River Goddess was enraged, and she cursed the land nourished by the river which was under her control.

Since that day, the Socya River gradually dried up.

The Goddess left an exhortation - when the fateful couple reappears on this land, the river will be surge once again...

-

The sand is boundless, and the sandy wind is bothersome. I walk in the desert, wiping off sweat. 

MC: After walking for such a long time, why haven’t I reached the Desert Kingdom? Did I get lost?

Retrieving a map from my waist, I’m just about to verify my direction when I suddenly see a camel continuously pacing around a small sand dune in front.

I walk over curiously. Using my hands to sweep away the sand, a wrinkled, dark red sleeve appears.

MC: There’s a person!

Quickly, I use both hands to dig into the sand dune, digging out a man who has been buried by the sand.

This person probably wasn’t unconscious for too long. His lips are dry and cracked, and his face is pale. Even so, one can tell that he’s handsome. 

I pat his face.

MC: Hey, wake up! Wake up-

After patting him numerous times, I still receive no response from him. I hastily hold him up, opening my waterskin and giving him a mouth of water.

[Note] A waterskin is a receptacle used to hold water!

After a very long time, he gradually regains some consciousness, opening his eyes to look at me.

His voice has not been fully restored, and his tone is cold.

?: ...who are you?

The expression in his eyes gives me a fright. Feeling as though my good intentions were for nothing, I purse my lips and respond.

MC: I’m the person who pulled you out of the sand dune. You were under the sun for too long. If it weren’t for me, I’m afraid you’d have turned into a meal for the golden eagles by night.

Hearing this, his brows furrow. He struggles to stand, but since he was unconscious for so long, he lacks strength, and his knuckles turn white from the effort.

I reach out to support him. The camel leans over, using its head to nuzzle the corner of his clothes affectionately.

When the person stands up, I realise that he’s much taller than me. Even though he’s in a weak state, there’s still a noble aura in his eyes.

He glances at me, his voice a little hoarse.

?: Thank you very much for saving me.

Just as I’m about to wave my hands and say that it was nothing, I watch as that man unties the bag at his waist, giving it to me.

?: The gems inside shall be treated as repayment for saving my life.

I open the bag, and the red gems that fill it dazzle me.

MC: ...

After selecting one piece, I return the bag to him.

MC: I saved you because I happened to pass by, and wasn’t seeking anything in return. You being safe is already the best thing.

The man lifts his head, giving me a serious look.

Being stared at like this makes me feel slightly embarrassed. I pat the travelling bag behind me, asking him in an amicable manner.

MC: Oh yes, I’m MC. What’s your name?

He leads the camel forward, his voice in the sandy wind indistinct and faraway.

?: Victor.

Although this person was overheated for such a long time, he’s as solemn as a mountain of ice. How strange.

Despite my unspoken criticism, I chase after him with good intentions.

MC: Hey, don’t underestimate me. It’d take several days to get out of here. If you didn’t bring water, you can’t last long alone. Since I’ve received your gem, let me be responsible for you.

Even though I just dug him out from the sand dune, his tone remains very calm.

Victor: There isn’t much water left in your waterskin, and it isn’t enough to sustain two people.

He pauses, then continues.

Victor: Don’t care about me. Take care of yourself.

I’m left dumbfounded. Even though this man called Victor doesn’t have a great personality, he’s pretty kind-hearted.

I take a large step forward, standing in front of him.

MC: Who says there isn’t enough water in the waterskin?

Grinning, I reach out to uncover the waterskin, pouring a few droplets of water into my palm.

Victor watches my every action quietly. After a moment, his eyes widen slightly.

Victor: You...

The water droplets in my palm seem to obtain some strength from my body. One droplet turns into countless droplets.

Then, it forms a spring, flowing into the waterskin.

MC: I'm not a typical traveller. If you follow me, you won’t lose out.

The sun is akin to a red wheel, hanging faraway in the sky. Even after walking for a very long time, it only shifts a little.

The travelling bag on my back feels heavier and heavier, and I haul it on my shoulders with effort.

Victor suddenly pauses in his steps, then reaches out to take my travelling bag.

He brings the camel to me, lifting his eyes to look at me.

Victor: If you can’t walk, you can ride on the camel.

After being stunned for a moment, I can’t help but smile while waving my hands.

MC: No need. It looks really weak, so I can’t bear to do that.

Victor doesn’t say anything else. I follow beside him, making bits of conversation with him.

MC: Victor, why did you faint in the desert? Since you’re so rich, did you meet a bandit? Are the bells on your camel’s neck made of gold? They’re so exquisite! Oh yes, are you going to the Desert Kingdom? I also wish to go there...

Victor stops abruptly.

Following behind him, my head unexpectedly bumps into his back.

MC: Sss... what happened?

Victor: We’ve arrived.

I stick out my head from behind him.

An oasis is encased amid the boundless sand, reminiscent of a dark green amber.

MC: The Desert Kingdom? We reached so quickly?

Victor glances at me, as though wanting to say something. But I suddenly feel unsteady on my feet, and my body sways.

My fingertips feel weak. Instantly, I realise what’s going on.

Having stayed in the desert for too long, I had used too much of my abilities and had forgotten about its side-effects.

My vision gradually turns blurry. My legs are no longer able to support me, and I feel like I’m about to fall.

The sound of frantic camel bells drift to my ear. In my daze, a steady embrace seems to surround me.

-

When I wake up, I’m no longer at the place where I fainted, but am in a palace.

Bright coloured gems are used as decorations, engraved into the walls. The curtain is blown up by the wind, and the air is filled with the fresh and sweet scent of orange blossom water.

MC: Where am I?

I peel open the blanket and rush outside. Victor is standing under a veranda, and the person beside him, who appears to be a physician, is talking to him about something.

Seeing that I’m here, he tilts his head slightly. The physician bows before withdrawing.

Victor walks over to me. The dazzling sunlight illuminates the corridor, mottled light falling on his tall frame, warm and brilliant.

Victor: You’re awake. How are you feeling?

Just as I’m about to ask him what this place is, I realise something after seeing his resplendent attire.

MC: You... Could you be the feudal lord of the Desert Kingdom?

He looks at me without responding, akin to a silent acknowledgement. I feel slightly surprised.

MC: In that case, you must definitely know about desert roses, right?! I heard that this flower is a secret that only the feudal lord of the Desert Kingdom knows about.

The rumoured desert roses are able to cure all the curses in the world.

MC: I came to the Desert Kingdom to collect these special roses. Since I’m considered your benefactor, and a droplet of water will be returned with a gushing spring, could you...

My hint is extremely obvious, but Victor narrows hie eyes at me.

Victor: When you fainted, I was the one who rescued you, sent you a doctor, and fed you medicine. I’ve already returned your droplet of water with a gushing spring.

I’m choked off for a moment, before speaking softly.

MC: ...in that case, what must I do before you’re willing to tell me?

Victor ponders slightly.

Victor: I want to make a deal with you. I’ve heard about what you mentioned, and I can you search for it. But in return, you have to help me with one thing. If you’re willing, no matter whether it’s desert roses or gems, I can give them to you once the matter is done.

MC: Sure.

Victor: ...I haven’t even mentioned what it is.

MC: I trust you. We walked out of the desert together, and I know what kind of a person you are.

It might have been a misperception, but Victor, who originally pulled a long face, suddenly lowers his eyes slightly, a hint of a smile flashing past them.

-

And just like that, I stay in Victor’s palace temporarily.

He mentioned that “the deal” was not yet prepared. Before that, I can recuperate peacefully in his palace.

It doesn’t matter to me. During my stay here, I often take strolls in the marketplace, and all use my abilities to help the poverty-stricken citizens who lack water.

The people are kind and honest, so I always fail to take note of how much I use my abilities.

But for some reason, each time my body reaches its limits and faints, I always happen to meet Victor.

-

Opening my eyes, I stare at the familiar gorgeous decorations on the ceiling, the tip of my nose detecting the sweet orange blossom scent floating in the air.

Victor is sitting by my side, eyes lowered as he looks at the topographical map in his hands.

The tips of his hair have fallen to the corners of his eyes, covering those somewhat stern eyes. But he appears much more amiable and approachable.

I know that I was once again rescued and brought back by Victor, so I crack a joke.

MC: Victor, why are you always able to bring me back each time I faint? Are you secretly following me every day?

Victor: ...

Victor places the topographical map at the side, facing me calmly.

Victor: I don’t wish to bring you back from the outside each time, but you clearly lack an awareness on how to use your abilities reasonably. Do you need me to teach you about this?

MC: It’s probably because I can skip and jump about after a few days of recuperating.

I add on softly in my heart: It’d be good if I could find the desert roses soon.

Victor: The fact that you’re able to skip and jump about is thanks to the exorbitant medicine you drink every day and the physician who specially takes care of you.

MC: ...thanks to them, I guess?

Victor is silent for a moment, choosing to put an end to this conversation. He gets up, carrying the medicine bowl as he leaves.

Seeing that I’ve gone too far with my jokes, I quickly get up, following behind Victor to salvage the situation.

MC: Victor, I was wrong. I won’t joke around with you anymore.

I follow after him blindly, and he suddenly stops outside the corridor.

Outside the corridor, there’s a small flower garden. Even though it’s a flower garden, there are only a few tiny crooked saplings in it.

The desert is scorching during all four seasons, and the oasis lacks a water source. During my time here, I haven’t seen a single flower in the city.

But Victor seems to really like this small flower garden. Whenever he has free time, he likes to stop at this veranda for a while.

Sometimes, I think that he doesn’t actually like this flower garden. When he stares at the small bare saplings, it’s as though he’s looking at this barren kingdom.

Even though such emotions are meant to be faraway for me, I can always capture them when I stand beside him.

After pondering for a while, I brisk walk into the flower garden. Uncovering my waterskin, the tip of my finger touches a water droplet.

A crystal clear spring suddenly appears, descending onto the bare branches of the saplings.

I turn my head towards Victor, tilting my chin in satisfaction.

MC: Don’t worry. With me around, your flower garden will definitely become full of vitality. Also, by the time they grow big, this land will definitely have even more sources of water.

Victor stands under the veranda, his gaze passing through the countless water droplets, landing on my face.

He doesn’t speak, but simply watches me quietly. When our eyes linger on each other, I feel my face burning up for some reason, and I avert my gaze frantically.

MC: [blushing] Why... why aren’t you saying anything?

Victor: Have I ever told you that this place didn’t always look like this?

I shake my head.

He suddenly smiles, then sits on a step of the veranda. He pats the empty space beside him, beckoning me to go over.

Victor: There’s a story. Want to hear it?

I immediately shuffle over, sitting beside him. The distance between us is very small. When I turn my head, I’m able to see his narrow, deep and serene eyes.

I hug my knees, preparing to listen to Victor’s story.

The setting sun brings with it an afterglow which seeps through the other side of the palace. The simple moonlight slowly reveals itself in the light greenish blue sky.

As though he’s about to tell a very long story, Victor sends a maidservant to bring over a jar of grape wine.

I take a sip, and the sweet scent of grapes rushes to my face along with the night breeze.

Victor’s tone is unhurried and gentle, mixing with the honeyed fruit wine, and flowing into my heart.

Victor: A long time ago before I was born, it was said that the upper and lower basins of the river belonged to two tribes. A pair of lovers surmounted the obstruction of the river and were in love. But this wasn’t allowed by their respective nations, which resulted in them drowning in a river for love. The River Goddess is responsible for water and life. She lamented these two people who died for love, and put a curse on the river.

MC: The people here mentioned this before! I heard that the river would only be restored when the fated couple reappears. I also heard that you abandoned the honour and glory of leading a comfortable life as a feudal lord... and led the king’s troops here, in order to find a way to resolve the issue of the dried river. Have you tried searching for the fated couple?

Victor: As compared to legends, I prefer believing in the power of humans. I spent a very long time to find this current spring, but I don’t want to stop here. I want to restore the river completely.

His voice is very deep, and it affects me subconsciously.

MC: The people here... including you, are all very kind, and treat me very well. If possible, I hope to witness the day the river is restored too.

Emotions I can’t comprehend gather in Victor’s eyes.

Victor: The current river was dug from quicksand a very long time ago when I led the troops. There isn’t much river water underneath quicksand, so this oasis doesn’t count as an actual oasis. The reason you... met me in the desert back then was because my my troops and I ran into a sandstorm while searching for other underground rivers. I was buried by sand, and only had a camel with me. It was considered a hopeless situation. But afterwards, you appeared before me.

He chuckles softly, his expression so tender that it’s akin to being able to pluck the moon from the sky with just a stretch of a hand.

Victor: Perhaps your appearance is something even the God of Fate couldn’t predict. Maybe with your abilities, the underground river could become a true river. MC, this is the deal I mentioned before. But now, as compared to a deal, this is more of a request. Will you agree?

This is the first time he’s using such a tone and looking at me with such a gaze. Pretending to be calm, I secretly take a deep breath before responding.

MC: Of course. This is something which can bring hope. Even though I’m just an ordinary person, I want to use my own strength to do something. At least... to be of help to you even by a little bit.

Victor pauses.

Victor: The desert roses you’re searching for are flowers that can only be produced by the Socya River. If the river can be restored, I promise you.

The dry breeze brushes my face, and I hear Victor’s soft and low voice, akin to a vow.

Victor: I’ll help you obtain everything you want. No matter... what you want.

I respond with a soft “mm”.

MC: I’ll wait for that day earnestly.

-

Not long after, Victor’s men dig into quicksand. Apparently, some river water flowed out.

Coincidentally, the grandest festival in the Desert Kingdom - the River Goddess’ ceremony, is about to begin. Victor and I decide to try restoring the river on that day.

But the night before the ceremony, I take my usual idle stroll along the streets, and darkness suddenly takes over my vision -

-

The cloth in front of my eyes is removed, and the harsh light of dancing flames enter my vision. Not yet adjusted to the surroundings, I squint while looking around.

A boundless desert is before me.

A few people dressed in attire from a foreign nation are whistling nearby, and a man who appears to be their leader is sitting next to the bonfire.

Seeing that I'm awake, he walks over.

Leader: We finally caught you, the “goddess” who can turn a droplet of water into a gushing spring.

MC: Mmff!

A ball of cloth is stuffed in my mouth. I struggle to speak, but a knife glinting with cold light is immediately pressed to my neck.

Leader: I’d advise you not to struggle or have the vain hope of Victor coming to rescue you. He’s currently leading troops in digging a river, and doesn’t have the time to bother about whether you’re dead or alive.

The blade shifts upwards, patting my cheek threateningly.

Leader: From now onwards, your abilities belong to our tribe. If you agree obediently, I’ll loosen the binds. How’s that? If you agree, blink your eyes.

I keep my eyes open wide, unwilling to let my abilities be used by people with ulterior motives.

Seeing my reaction, the leader laughs coldly, raising the knife in his hand.

Leader: Stubborn even at death’s door. Looks like you’ll have to suffer for a bit.

My heart grows heavy quickly.

While watching as the knife draws closer to me, I hear vibrations from afar which resemble thunder.

I immediately lift my eyes, and see a group of figures in black appearing from the horizon.

Those people are dressed in familiar attire, and the person in front has his usual stern expression, his lips pursed tightly.

The leader turns pale with fright, pulling me over as a hostage.

Victor brandishes his scimitar. The blade reflects the moonlight of the vast desert, outlining its sharp and beautiful shape.

The king’s troops are well-trained. In an instant, the people from the foreign nation are suppressed.

The bonfire seems to be burning out, and it has lost its brilliant flames. After a moment of silence, I watch as Victor’s eyes land on me fixedly. 

Victor: Release her.

Leader: Whether I release her will depend on the great feudal lord’s attitude.

Victor walks over from the crowd, then tosses his knife onto the floor, his gaze deep.

Victor: My sincerity is sufficient. Let her go, and I can guarantee that your nation will not be touched in the future. 

The leader hesitates for a while, but he suddenly speaks ferociously.

Leader: Looks like this “Living Spring” is very precious to you. In that case, there’s more reason not to let her go. Our small tribe has been oppressed by the Desert Kingdom for far too long. With her, we never have to be bullied again.

While threatening Victor, he holds me and inches backwards.

I watch as worry flashes in Victor’s eyes. But he very quickly regains his composure, stepping closer.

Victor: Looks like I’ve indulged your people for too long.

His voice brings with it a mighty pressure, stirring the frantic emotions of the leader.

Victor: So long that you dare to threaten me.

Accompanying his voice is something flashing past, piercing the wrist of the leader. With a shriek, the blade pressed against my neck falls to the ground.

No longer fettered, I fall forward.

Victor immediately reaches out, pulling me into his arms.

Before I can say anything, I hear the soldiers at the side exclaiming.

Soldiers: Not good. A sandstorm, a sandstorm is here!

Lifting my head, I see a billow of sand moving towards where we are.

The person next to me instantly presses me to his chest.

Victor: Grab my hand tightly.

The windstorm at my ear is reckless, and I’m unable to open my eyes. I can only cling to Victor’s chest.

After an unknown duration of time, the sandstorm finally passes. 

I immediately open my eyes, spitting out a large mouthful of sand.

MC: Cough cough... Victor, the sandstorm has passed!

Victor doesn’t speak, leaning against a stone. Lifting my head hastily, I see that his eyes are shut, and his fingers are ice-cold.

MC: Victor? Victor?!

I attempt to shake him awake, but when my hand accidentally touches his back, I feel something damp and sticky. Dumbfounded, I retract my hand -

Fresh blood.

Shifting my line of sight, I see that the sharp flying rocks have left a long gash on his back.

Earlier, he had left his wound exposed to the sandstorm, quietly protecting me in his arms.

My palm is dyed with his blood. I frantically tear off a patch of clothing and try to stop the bleeding, but to no avail.

MC: [crying] What should I do...

I carefully rest Victor’s head on my lap. The moonlight outlines his pale face, stern expression, and dry lips.

This is a sign of a severe lack of hydration.

However, I don’t have my waterskin with me. The only thing I can find is Victor’s knife, half-buried in the sand. 

After hesitating for a moment, I pick up the knife. Gritting my teeth, I slice my own palm.

Bringing my palm to Victor’s lips, fresh blood drips into his parted, parched lips, but nothing happens.

MC: No good, he still needs water...

At a loss, I lift my head. The desert before me is reminiscent of a gigantic beast in quiet hibernation.

The desert is a wasteland, without a single drop of water.

All of a sudden, a breeze rushes past, causing sand to be blown up. The camel at the side seems to sense something, and it tugs on my sleeve with its mouth, pulling me forward.

It tugs me forward for a short while, and my eyes widen.

Underneath the illumination of moonlight, a deep colour appears in the vast desert, which differs from the surrounding coarse sand.

MC: Quicksand? When there’s quicksand, there’s an underground river! As long as I can reach the underground river, I can let it flow... and there will be hope for Victor!

But what Victor once said comes to my mind -

Victor: The quicksands in the desert are extremely dangerous. It’s very easy for ordinary people to get swallowed up, which is why there’s a need to dig it slowly.

The camel whimpers softly, its bells tinkling along with its frantic movements.

Victor lies on the sand quietly, and it’s as though everything has returned to the beginning when we first met.

If possible, I’d really want to see the flourishing city at dusk with him again.

I pat the hair of the camel, speaking to it softly.

MC: Little Camel, even though I often pull out your hair in secret, since I fed you water...

I pause, swallowing some saliva.

 MC: If I don’t come back up later, find someone else to rescue Victor. Remember to run a little faster, got it?

After speaking to it, I take a deep breath, and try stepping into the quicksand.

A soft sensation is beneath my feet. I take a few more steps, and suddenly feel a powerful suction.

Almost instantly, everything beneath my waist sinks into the quicksand. I smell something moist, which differs from the dry sand. With difficulty, I reach out to feel for my surroundings.

The moon in the air is bright, clear, and cold. It observes my every action icily.

The sand beneath me flows continuously. Just as the sand is about to cover my mouth and nose, my wrist is suddenly gripped by someone. 

Victor: Who gave you the nerve to head down the quicksand on your own?

Victor’s face appears before my eyes. Supporting himself with a hand at the edge of the quicksand, the other hand grabs onto my wrist tightly, exerting the remnants of his energy.

MC: Victor, I’m helping you look for a water source. Let go!

Victor: I don’t need you to save me a second time.

He talks through clenched teeth, his wound reopening once again, crimson blood dripping into the sand.

Frantic, I extricate myself from his hand, and the suction from below causes me to sink even deeper, bit by bit.

The moist and fine sand climbs up my neck, gradually sealing up my mouth and nose.

I cough violently, my face red as I speak.

MC: Victor... did you forget what I told you before? I agreed to your request, and now I’m fulfilling my promise.

One side of Victor’s body has also been pulled into the quicksand. He gives me a deep stare, then suddenly releases the hand which supported him at the edge.

I stop breathing, watching blankly as the quicksand swallows Victor’s tall frame.

His gaze undulates like a tide, stirring with many emotions that I've never seen before.

Victor: Since you agreed to my request, you should know that my repayment wouldn’t be less than yours. No matter what awaits you, I’ll be with you.

His words are reminiscent of a vow, drifting to my ear. A thousand waves rise in my heart.

I recall the way he looked at me when I was held under duress. I recall the many moments that I didn’t take particular notice of.

In the many times that I fainted, I had felt someone holding me in his arms in my semi-conscious state.

That person walked very steadily, and I could hear the beating of his heart clearly, which covered all the ruckus in the surroundings.

My heart beats rapidly, and a certain answer is on the verge of surfacing. 

On that night when the arid summer breeze coursed past, he mentioned that it wasn’t a deal, but a request.

At this moment. I finally understand the difference between them -

A deal is a business transaction. But to Victor, a request has always been an exchange of feelings. 

...so this was what he meant.

I try my best to touch him, but even after exerting all my effort, I can only grip his pinky finger.

It turns out that no matter what the ending is, he’s willing to be with me.

Amid the darkness, a faraway sigh seems to drift from beneath the desert.

The quicksand, which was swallowing us like a tide, suddenly loses its oppressive strength.

At the lowest layer of the quicksand beneath our feet, there seems to be a near yet faraway sound of flowering water.

The sound of water grows increasingly louder and clearer. Victor and I look at each other, eyes brightening.

I struggle to reach out, letting the tips of my fingers feel for the water current.

A whooshing sound of wind and sand rises from the desert, reminiscent of blessings being murmured by a pair of lovers.

It’s vast and lonely.

The sound of gurgling water suddenly appears at my ear, and a surging tide bursts from the sand, sending Victor and I out of the quicksand and towards the tip of the current.

The water curling around my fingertips is both powerful and gentle as it surrounds us. I reach out tentatively, and the water follows, sliding from mid-air.

Surprised, I twist my head to look at Victor. In the mist, his expression is filled with gentleness.

The water surrounding us surges forward. Victor suddenly reaches out to pull me into his arms, carrying me out of the water before we tumble onto the riverbank.

After a long while, the gushing water gradually stops. A long, sparkling river appears beneath the moonlight, meandering and coursing faraway.

Several green seedlings appear along the riverbank, the tightly shut flower buds reflecting a little light.

MC: There are...

Victor: Desert roses.

He looks at me.

Victor: MC, the river has been restored.

-

On the eve of the ceremony, the meeting hall is filled with congratulatory gifts from the nobles.

[Note] The timing doesn’t make sense because the whole kidnapping thing happened the night before the ceremony, yet it’s somehow the day before the ceremony now?? I’ll just assume there was an error and the writers meant that it’s the day of the ceremony LOL

I’m hiding outside the main hall, peeking in secretly.

After the news of the river restoration reached the city, everyone was filled with cheer. The preparations for the ceremony this time have become even livelier.

But such a grand celebration doesn’t appear to have any relation to me.

My deal with Victor has been completed. I’ve obtained the desert roses, and have no other reason for staying here.

Still, I want to have one more look at Victor... before leaving.

Victor is sitting on a high seat and propping his head up with a hand, clearly uninterested in the praises and flattery from these nobles.

As though he senses something, he glances in my direction from afar.

I’m given a fright, turning around quickly and leaping down the stairs. But before I reach the halfway mark, someone suddenly grabs my wrist.

Victor: Where are you going?

I have no choice but to turn around and look at him.

MC: I’m leaving this place. Everything’s settled, and I’m bidding you farewell.

I avert my eyes guiltily, not having the guts to tell Victor that I plan to run away with his camel.

Victor: How did you know that everything’s settled?

MC: Huh?

I lift my head blankly. An incredibly small smile flashes in his eyes, and he speaks leisurely.

Victor: Back then, I made a promise to you. As long as you could help me restore the Socya River, all of the roses along the riverbank belong to you, as long as they are under my scope of control. You have to take them all away before the deal is considered complete.

My mouth is agape, filled with shock.

MC: But there are so many roses. How can I bring all of them back?

A scent sweeter than honey permeates the night. The moonlight illuminates the side of Victor’s cold face clearly. 

The instruments and drums in the hall play simple and unadorned music. Victor looks at me, his voice suddenly turning very, very soft.  

Victor: In that case, stay here. Stay by my side.

-

⚔️ MOMENTS ⚔️

Victor’s Post: A certain dummy displayed a row of desert roses on the balcony, but they aren’t roses.

MC: Huh? What!!!

Victor: Before you buy flowers next time, make sure to check their basic information.

-

Victor’s Post: A certain dummy displayed a row of desert roses on the balcony, but they aren’t roses.

MC: I was wondering why they looked so different from roses!

Victor: ...they don’t just look different.

-

Victor’s Post: A certain dummy displayed a row of desert roses on the balcony, but they aren’t roses.

MC: ...forget it, at least they can live longer.

Victor: Under your care, that’s not necessarily the case.

⚔️ Phone calls: First l Second

⚔️ Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[hxseok-honee]

atlas heart || part 37

a/n : uhm,,, so this was 20 pages long,,,, whoops -- hope you enjoy the pain!

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“Jimin… psst-- Jimin, wake up--”

“Wake up, motherfucker!” Jimin’s eyes fly open right before he’s shutting them again, unable to cover his face in time to block the throw pillow that’s being launched at him. It falls to his lap when he sits up, and Jungkook chuckles in the doorway.

“Y/n’s been in here for fifteen minutes, trying to be nice and soft about waking you up, but you sleep like the dead. We’re gonna miss our ride at this rate.” Jimin blinks the sleep from his eyes as he focuses in on the girl that’s kneeling next to him on the bed. She’s nodding along as Jungkook speaks, and even in his half-awake state, Jimin finds her insufferably cute. He also notices that she’s fully dressed and seemingly ready to leave, her backpack by the door.

“What time is it?” His voice is groggy, but the yell he lets out when Hoseok appears suddenly at the door, disheveled and angry, is crystal clear. It looks like the Slytherin’s also just woken up, which is bad news for someone who’s yet to see Hoseok’s infamous ‘morning temper’.

“It’s almost 4:30 in the fucking morning, that’s what time it is. Our ride gets here at 5 -- I’m leaving whether you’re ready or not.” He disappears then, dragging a fearful Jungkook with him back to their room to pack their bags. Y/n turns from the doorway, settling back on her heels as she chuckles awkwardly.

“He’s just really excited to see Yoongi…”

--

When a minivan fit for a soccer mom with 4 kids screeches to a halt in front of the house, Jimin has to rub at his eyes to make sure he’s seeing things correctly. At the wheel sits Jin, an alarming amount of excitement in his eyes as he chugs coffee from what’s less of a cup and more of a vase with a lid. In the passenger’s seat is Namjoon, clinging to his seatbelt for dear life, and behind him are Taehyung and Yoongi, the Slytherin scooting into the middle so Jungkook can pull the end seat down and squeeze into the back row.

He waves Y/n in, and she pulls a stunned Jimin into the back with them. When the end seat locks back into place, Hoseok is throwing himself into it, wrapping himself around Yoongi once the door is closed. His boyfriend smiles with contentment, and even half-asleep, Jimin can appreciate the quiet happiness they share.

Jin slams his concerningly large coffee cup, now empty, down into the middle console and lets out a roar of energy.

“Next stop, Quidditch World Cup!” Pressing down on the gas hard enough that Y/n actually feels the tires squeal against the pavement before starting to turn, Jin takes off, rounding the rest of the massive courtyard before flying back down the winding driveway. Her hand reaches for Jimin’s on instinct, and if she wasn’t squeezing so hard, he might have blushed.

“What’re the chances of us dying before we even get there?” Jimin chuckles at her question, cutting himself short when the car slides into traffic much too recklessly, so he just hums.

“Probably much higher than you want me to admit--”

“Hey, who has my road snacks? I’ve got such a hankering for one of those cinnamon roll thingies--” Jin reaches blindly back into the middle row, searching for the bag of food on Taehyung’s lap.

“Both hands on the wheel!” It seems the entire car’s in agreement, because Jin just returns to his previous position, a small whine leaving him.

“Alright, alright, you big babies. Namjoon -- feed me, buddy.” The Ravenclaw groans loudly, and for a moment Jimin can’t believe he’d missed all these idiots while he was away.

--

When Jin pulls into the campground for the World Cup, they’re all gasping as they take in the scene around them. The arena’s unbelievably massive, towering over them in the distance. The sea of people is endless, crowded beyond belief with spectators and traveling merchants preparing for tomorrow’s match. Following Yoongi’s directions until they manage to find the plot of land his parents had reserved for them, Jin pulls off into the treeline and puts the car in park.

The group stumbles from the vehicle, groaning and stretching, shaking off the anxiety of entrusting Jin with their lives for hours. It’s a little past 11am, enough time for them to set up before lunch. Y/n follows Jimin into the spacious area, admiring the excited chaos of the enormous campground around them. She can hear Jin mumbling a spell under his breath to shrink the car and put it in his pocket, followed almost immediately by Jungkook excitedly asking if he can 'do that with a house -- or Hogwarts!'

Jimin takes her hand, and for a second, she thinks that maybe he’s making a move on her, something that leaves her embarrassingly hopeful. But all he does is pull her close to him, pointing at Yoongi with his other hand. The Slytherin is pulling a tiny tent out of his own pocket and setting it on the ground in the middle of their plot of land. Y/n doesn’t even see Yoongi utter a spell before the tent is growing to full size, and she can only imagine that the inside has been bewitched to fit all 8 of them -- something else that Yoongi’s done without speaking.

“Nonverbal magic?” It slips out without her thinking, and Yoongi hears it, glancing at her and becoming visibly shy under her curious gaze. He nods, pointing back at Hoseok, whose attention is caught trying to convince Jungkook not to try shrinking himself with Jin’s spell.

“We both know it -- most Slytherins do, actually… should I call it a defense mechanism? We don’t like to let people know what we’re thinking.”

“It’s pretty fascinating, if you think about it.” It comes from Namjoon, where he and Tae are unpacking not too far away. “Even in class, Yoongi would always practice nonverbally -- he’d get in trouble for it, too.” The Slytherin shrugs as if performing nonverbal magic isn’t difficult for most people unless the caster is under incredible distress.

“What can I say? A habit’s a habit. I haven’t used verbal magic in years -- it’s just more comfortable this way.” He ducks into the tent then, poking his head out and waving them in once he’s checked the quality of his adjustments to their living space for the next couple days.

They all head inside, Y/n looking around in awe when she sees just how big it is. There’s a section of bunk beds on the far side of the room, and the rest is filled with endlessly cozy spaces -- couches and cushions, corners piled high with blankets and pillows. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner, which Jin makes a beeline for in order to 'preserve his perishables'. Jimin shakes his head at the scene, always amused by the depth of the Hufflepuff’s stomach.

Jungkook pulls Y/n to one of the couches, where they collapse on it in a sibling pile that Jimin’s gotten used to seeing over the last 24 hours. It doesn’t stop the rest of the group (sans Hoseok, of course) from gawking at the pair, everyone unused to seeing the dynamic that’s been essentially nonexistent at Hogwarts. They don’t even notice, Y/n looking up at Jungkook with emotional eyes.

“I can’t believe I have friends to share this with.” She doesn’t realize the group is listening, and they all feel simultaneously touched and saddened by her words. Jungkook only ruffles her hair fondly.

“Get used to it, kid -- things are looking up for us.” It’s then that Jungkook happens to glance up, catching Taehyung’s gaze and seeing glossy tears in the boy’s eyes. Looking around, he notes that everyone’s got a similar expression, and he wonders what they must think of Y/n -- of the girl they don’t know enough about to understand her sentiments. He also wonders why they seem so moved by her words.

The awkward moment’s cut short by Namjoon clearing his throat. He points toward Jin, who’s standing by the fridge.

“We have enough food in there to feed us for a week, but Jin said it’s all ‘snacks’, so it looks like we have to go buy lunch.” Everyone nods, accepting that Jin would probably bite them before letting them into the kitchenette, and they start heading back out into the campground.

--

By the time night’s fallen, they’re all exhausted and a bit giddy. It’s almost 10, the effects of waking up at 4am weighing down on the group as they sit together in front of their tent. Hoseok and Yoongi had set up a small fire for them to gather around, Jimin playing music quietly from the small speaker Tae had packed as they talk amongst themselves.

Namjoon leans against a decently sized pile of rocks, reading quietly with the light from the fire. Y/n suspects he’s not actually reading, having caught his smile every time someone had cracked a lame joke, but she doesn’t call him on it. He looks peaceful there, in his quiet corner. Yoongi and Hoseok sit together on one side of the fire, whispering to each other and smiling about things only they know. Jungkook, Tae, and Jin are huddled, having a small argument about some of the merchandise being sold by the traveling shops that are set up around the campground.

Y/n sits with Jimin, watching the group and jokingly judging Jimin’s music taste as he scrolls through his phone. They’re sitting awfully close together, and Jimin thinks in the back of his mind that they must look about as cozy as Yoongi and Hoseok do -- that thought brings him much more joy than it should.

Despite the endless chatter and liveliness of the campground, the night starts to wind down, the sky clouding over in a way that makes it seem darker than it already is. It’s a perfectly good time for everyone to head to bed, but the chaotic trio has apparently decided to escalate their quarrel, the three of them jumping up at the same time.

“We’re going to check out some stuff -- it’s important!” Jungkook calls out to the rest of the group right before disappearing into the crowd with Jin and Tae. Namjoon promptly shuts his book, standing with a groan and heading in the direction they’d just gone. He offers them a shrug as an explanation.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on them.” He’s gone soon, leaving Jimin and Y/n to make awkward eye contact with Hoseok and Yoongi. Y/n locks eyes with Hoseok, and Jimin gets the strange feeling, from the way Hoseok’s eyes widen and then narrow suspiciously, that they’re communicating telepathically. The Slytherin shakes his head subtly, and then again a little more forcefully, before sighing heavily and rising to his feet. Holding his hand out, he helps Yoongi -- who looks as confused as Jimin feels -- to his feet before pointing noncommittally in the same direction their friends had gone.

“Apparently, I’m hungry enough to go searching for a snack, even though we have snacks in the tent.” Yoongi smirks at the clear annoyance in Hoseok’s voice, tugging him toward the crowd.

“Come on -- let’s go find a tree to make out under.” Immediately, Hoseok’s gaze becomes one of mischievous excitement, and he practically skips after the shorter boy into the distance. Jimin makes a noise of disgust, mirrored by Y/n’s expression.

Jimin only properly registers that they’re alone when his phone automatically starts playing a slower song -- rather, he properly registers that Y/n had asked Hoseok to leave them alone. Turning to her suddenly as if for an explanation, he finds that she’s staring into the fire with the intensity of someone who’s very socially awkward. He can’t help the breath of laughter that leaves him, one that becomes real laughter when she glares at him.

“You look like you just realized the consequences of your actions.” Her jaw drops, and she pushes at his shoulder, affronted.

“Sue me for wanting to spend time alone with you!” Immediately, she’s hiding her face in her hands, groaning. She wonders if maybe -- if she wishes for it enough -- the ground will just open up around her and swallow her whole. Her ears feel like they’re being set on fire when she hears Jimin’s laughter ringing through the air, and she hates that she loves the sound anyway.

“When are you just going to admit that you’re in love with me, Y/n? I promise I won’t laugh.” She mumbles something into her hands, and it sounds suspiciously like ‘you’re already laughing’. Jimin tugs at her wrist, dragging her out from her hiding spot and forcing her to look at him.

“How about we make a deal?” Y/n sends him another glare, but it’s her pout that catches his attention and drives him to the brink of insanity. “We can say it together -- count to three and admit how crazy we are about each other at the same time.” Y/n rolls her eyes and snatches her wrist from his hold, turning back to the fire, which has basically died down completely by now.

“Stop messing around, you big dork.” Jimin holds his hand to his chest and gasps.

“I have never been so serious about something in my life as I am about this.” He keeps talking, a dramatic monologue about his integrity, but something triggers the alarm bells in the back of her head -- the same alarm bells that have kept her alive up to this point -- and she’s immediately distracted.

Glancing around, she finds that nothing’s changed in their surroundings -- families and groups of friends still celebrate the start of the World Cup, the chaos of thousands of people in one place never-ending. But there’s something in the air, something that sets her nerves on edge. Looking up, she realizes that it’s gotten exceptionally dark, the clouds concentrating into one dense curtain in the sky, removing any sign that the stars had been there in the first place.

“Jimin, wait… this doesn’t feel right.” Realizing, based on the pained expression that fills Jimin’s face when she interrupts his secretly heartfelt rant, that she’s said the wrong thing at the wrong time, Y/n shakes her head quickly, motioning out into the distance. “I’m talking about this -- something’s off.” She ignores Jimin’s lingering eyes on her when she stands from her spot on the ground, looking to the treeline and taking in their surroundings. He joins her when he gets a clear look at her face and sees how urgent her gaze is.

The breeze is gone, leaving her with the taste of stale smoke in her lungs, the air still foggy from the bonfire. It seems the sense of freedom had left with the boys, since all she can feel is an invisible weight coming down on her chest -- something coming for her.

And come it does, in Jimin’s frozen form and horrified gaze, staring straight over Y/n’s shoulder into the sky behind her. Whipping around, terrified about what she might find, she’s stepping backwards and colliding with Jimin’s chest before she can even register what she’s seeing. The clouds have darkened considerably and are moving of their own accord, twisting and turning as they take shape in the sky. Jimin begins to shake uncontrollably as the storm clouds become one, revealing the skull with the open jaw, a massive snake emerging from within and wrapping itself cleanly around the top.

“That’s-”

“Guys!”

“Jimin, Y/n-”

“We’re so fucked!” The rest of the group comes crashing into the space in panicked chaos, tearing through their campsite with thinly veiled terror. Taehyung and Namjoon make a beeline for their tent as the sounds of pained screams start to filter in, replacing the comfortable memories of the bonfire with something much darker. Yoongi stands near the fire pit, turning in circles and pulling at his hair desperately as he realizes where they are.

“This isn’t -- this tent, it’s in the middle of --” He stops, breathing hard, hands still buried in his hair as the thought finally hits. “My parents put us in the middle of Slytherin territory.”

Jin comes in behind everyone else, firing curses over his shoulder as he calls out to the group, scanning their faces and doing a mental headcount.

“We need to get out of here -- the muggleborns should go first.” He locks eyes with Namjoon as the older Ravenclaw exits the tent carrying a bag. Namjoon nods, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist and moving toward Y/n, who hasn’t left Jimin’s side.

“I grabbed everything important, so let’s just go.” He reaches for Y/n’s arm, triggering Jimin’s protectiveness. Jimin pulls her closer on instinct, and Namjoon sighs as he releases Taehyung in order to grab both of them. “We need to go.” He addresses Y/n under his breath. “You’re not safe here, either.” They keep eye contact for just a moment, but it’s enough that Y/n is left with the feeling of ice in her blood even after Namjoon’s turned back to the group.

How much… does he know?

Before she can question Jimin about Namjoon’s suspicious behavior, Jimin’s tugging her toward his friends as they move toward the edge of the forest. Pulling back and forcing Jimin to a stop, Y/n points at Jungkook, who has now flanked Jin and is defending one part of their campsite from the oncoming hoard of Slytherins.

“I’m not leaving without him.” The conflicted look that crosses Jimin’s face tears at Y/n’s heart, but she stands her ground, motioning back toward Jungkook. “I have to stay-”

“What? No, you have to go!” The call comes from behind her, and it’s only a matter of moments before Jungkook is by her side, shoving her into Jimin’s arms. “Take her with you! Don’t you ever let her out of your sight-”

“Jungkook, watch out-”

Taehyung yells out to him, just a moment too late. Y/n watches in horror as a red light appears just over Jungkook’s shoulder. It grows bigger and bigger as it flies toward them, accompanied by the disgusted shriek of “Blood Traitor!”, and all she can do is hug Jungkook to her as she waits for the curse to strike him in between his shoulder blades.

Pulling him close, she barely manages to catch the flash of silver that appears, encompassing them as another body slides into view and blocks out everything else. The shield charm is cast wordlessly and so powerfully that it knocks the Slytherin who’d attacked them clean off his feet. Thrown back at least ten feet, he’s left bewildered and sore.

Hoseok stands between Jungkook and the army of Slytherins, breathing heavily as the shield dissipates around them. He holds his head high as he stares down the group, resigning himself to the fact that, after years of hiding his true self from his housemates, his loyalties have been clearly defined in that moment.

The silence that follows is only broken by the soft fwip of a wand being slipped out of a pocket, and it’s as Hoseok is whipping his head around that another red light appears, its caster completely silent. The curse burns through the air, almost as if in slow motion, cutting through the space right under Hoseok’s ear with the sharp precision of a skilled marksman and meeting its target on the other side, searing the ends of Hoseok’s hair as it goes. The Slytherin who’d been poised to attack from the treeline is hurled backwards, disappearing into the forest as everyone watches him go, Yoongi’s wand still trained on the spot where he’d stood.

The cold fury that fills Yoongi’s eyes is replaced with concern as he lowers his wand and rushes to Hoseok’s side, giving him a once over before turning to face the growing crowd of Death Eaters in-training, aligning his loyalties just the same as Hoseok had. Y/n allows herself the small smile that arises when she sees the gaze that Hoseok casts upon Yoongi, filled with the kind of love she could only hope to have in her own life. The moment doesn’t last long.

The group of friends, realizing almost simultaneously that they’re being surrounded, forms a huddle facing outward, wands steady as they prepare for the attack.

“If we make it out of this shit alive, I’m going to throw the biggest fit of my life when I get home.” The mention of the Dark Lord’s most loyal Min family sets off the first wave of curses, their traitorous son the target.

One by one, the group takes down their attackers, tiring out but never giving up. Minimal injuries are sustained on their end, their will to survive too strong to forgive even the slightest mistake. Jimin keeps one hand on Y/n at all times, unwilling to lose track of her for even a moment, as if she’s not been stuck to his side all night.

Curses rain down on them from all sides, the Dark Mark in the sky peeking through the shower of red lights as they fight for their lives. Jimin feels Y/n stagger beside him, but she seems to be unharmed when he looks her over. Glancing in alarm at the moon, barely visible amongst all the smoke and mayhem, Jimin curses under his breath as he remembers the date -- and more importantly, that she hadn’t yet taken her dose for the night. He pours all his energy into his attacks from that moment on, everything suddenly becoming much more urgent.

Time passes so slowly that none of them are quite sure how long they’ve been there, fighting in a war they’d never asked for. Just when Y/n thinks they might be losing -- that they might be forced to pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord, or even killed where they stand -- there’s a loud pop and a gush of wind passes over all of them.

From within their circle comes the angered cry of Sirius Black, who manages to deflect a rather mean curse headed straight for Jin’s chest. He’s followed by James and Remus, the three of them throwing themselves into the mix so carelessly that it catches the Slytherins by surprise. James takes advantage of the delay, surging out of the circle toward the largest density of Slytherins and pointing his wand at the ground closest to them.

“Confringo!” The earth beneath their feet shudders under James’ command, collapsing in on itself before exploding outward, sending no less than 10 people flying through the air and creating a chaos too intense for the rest to handle. The world around them becomes fuzzy and confusing, and Y/n feels nothing except the hands that pull at her and urge her forward into the forest.

They all manage to stumble far enough away from the mess to gather their bearings, but the shouts of their enemies are not far off. As soon as they confirm that they’re all alive and relatively unscathed, Remus takes Y/n by the elbow and pulls her gently to him. Jimin is reluctant to let her go.

“I need to talk to you -- we have to go somewhere safe.” Sirius is collecting the rest of the group and giving them the location of a safe place to meet, a small cottage in the countryside where he and Remus had been living.

“You guys head there first, we’ll meet you.” He hands the keys to Jungkook, who nods in understanding as he sees that Remus has no intention to rejoin the group. Jimin starts to reach for Y/n, unhappy with their separation, but Hoseok speaks up from the back. He’s being half-carried by Yoongi, his leg having suffered a bit of damage from James’ blasting curse, but not so much that he couldn’t walk. Y/n bites back a smirk, suspecting that Hoseok had just been looking for an excuse to need Yoongi, who is absolute garbage at hiding how pleased he is.

“Make sure you come back soon. I trust you guys, and I know you need to talk in private, but I don’t like not having Y/n close in times like this.” Remus nods, acknowledging Jungkook as well, before leading Y/n away. The boys start to apparate away, James helping Hoseok and Yoongi get to the house safely before returning to join his friends. Remus has led Y/n a safe enough distance away that the Slytherins would have a hard time finding them and is explaining the gravity of the situation to her.

“-- to infiltrate a pack of werewolves living in the mountains. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, Y/n.” Y/n examines Remus’ face, noting the new scars and the exhaustion that lies heavy in his eyes. He looks nothing like the bright school boy from just a few months ago, and she knows he’s seen unimaginable things in the short time that he’s been working under Dumbledore. They all look drained and, frankly, terrified. The lives they’d been promised from a young age were fading away into this dreary nothingness, this thankless job where nothing is more uncertain than the future.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you? Just tell me you’ll be careful -- all of you.” Remus looks taken aback by her words, and Sirius can’t suppress the soft chuckle that escapes him, amazed at this girl standing before him, not nearly as reserved as they’d all thought her to be.

“Of course we’ll be careful, love. Don’t you trust us?” Y/n shakes her head, smiling despite her scoff.

“Trust you guys? I didn’t realize you were an aspiring comedian, Sirius.” They laugh openly now, thankful for even just this moment of reprieve from the hell they live in. Remus leans over, patting her adoringly on her head, as if they weren’t damn near the same age.

“Good, that’s good. Don’t trust anyone, Y/n, you hear me? Don’t trust anyone you wouldn’t die for. Can you do that for me?” Y/n nods, the picture of those boys in that cottage in the countryside coming to mind so easily.

“I know who my people are. There’s no one else besides them -- and you guys. So try your best not to get yourselves killed?” James salutes her once as Sirius nods. Remus moves to agree, but the sound of leaves crunching not too far away triggers an immediate response in him. Lunging forward and taking her into his arms, he throws Y/n over his shoulder and takes off running, knowing better than anyone else what it would mean if she were caught. Y/n watches with horror as two Death Eaters appear out of what looks like thin air, sending James and Sirius into action. She can do nothing but watch as they deflect curses while maintaining their ground.

Remus sets her down a long distance away, trying to warn her again, but her attention is on the action they’d just managed to escape. She tries to push past him to go help James and Sirius, but he grabs her by the shoulders quickly and forces her to look at him, shaking her roughly in the process.

“Listen to me, Y/n- listen to me!” She meets his eyes, alarmed by the frustration in his voice. “The public knows. They know now just to what extent the werewolf population is siding with Voldemort. Everything before this summer was just speculation -- of course the evil magical beasts should side with the Dark Lord, right? Well, the Minister of Magic just released a statement this morning. Everyone knows now. And it won’t matter how much we cry and beg and plead for our lives -- if they catch us, we’re dead. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Y/n can do no more than stare into Remus’ eyes, wishing this all away -- wishing that they could just be back in school, a bunch of kids with no worries about the war. But the longer she stares into his eyes, the longer she realizes that they don’t just have to worry about the war now. They’re part of it. Two werewolves with way too many people keeping their secret. James, Sirius, Peter, Jungkook, Hoseok, and now Jimin? And --

Does Namjoon know, too? Just who the hell else has to be put into danger because of what I am?

--

Y/n steps through the front gate of the cottage, having been dropped off by Remus -- she’s not of age yet to apparate alone -- before he disappeared again, presumably to help his friends escape. She’s barely within ten feet of the front door when it’s flying open, Jimin appearing before her with wild eyes. He rushes at her, taking her into his arms with a desperation he didn’t even know he felt. She pats at his back, unsure of what to say, still dazed from everything Remus had told her.

“I was only gone a few minutes…” Jimin pulls back, looking at her as if she’s insane.

“I don’t care. Those were the worst few minutes of my life. I hated not knowing if you were okay.” He looks her over, patting at her arms gently. “You are okay, right?” When she nods he sighs before glancing around them urgently as if realizing they’re out in the open. He tugs her inside, shutting the door tightly behind them. He’s about to motion her down the hallway into the living room, where the rest of their friends are regrouping, but she stops him. The look she gives him is suspicious, and he’s unsure why.

“Jimin, you told me you would never breathe a word of what I am to anyone…” He looks at her with alarm, shaking his head.

“I didn’t tell anyone anything -- why? What happened?” She examines him for a moment, seeing that Jimin’s as confused as she is. She proceeds with caution, realizing that if Jimin really hadn’t said anything, then this conversation is about to be very uncomfortable.

“I think… Namjoon might know something…” Jimin feels like he can’t breathe then, the air stopping short in his chest as his heart drops out from under him. He swears without thinking, the word slipping out as he processes what she’s saying.

“Fuck… shit… fuck…” Y/n squints at him, unsure of where his mind’s just gone. Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, another swear falling from his lips as guilt overcomes him. He opens his mouth to explain, but he can’t bring himself to look her in the eyes.

“Before I figured out… everything, I would talk to Joon about things that confused me… about you.” He opens his eyes just enough to glance at her before looking away, but he’s surprised that she isn’t fuming with anger. She’s only thinking carefully about his words.

“So, he probably put it together on his own.” She comes to the conclusion as she ponders, offering the reason for Namjoon’s comment to her earlier. Jimin lurches forward, taking her hand in both of his, eyes pleading.

“I swear to you, Y/n, I didn’t say a word of this to him after I figured it out. I completely dropped it, and when he asked me why, I just told him I was respecting your privacy by minding my own business -- I promise, I never said anything--”

“Jimin!” His name cuts through the air, and his mouth snaps shut immediately to give her room to talk. “I’m not mad at you. I’m more worried than anything… I wonder who else knows…”

“Uhm, actually--” The new voice has them both turning to look to the end of the hallway, where Tae’s standing awkwardly in the doorway to the living room. He’s flanked by Jin and Yoongi, Namjoon standing with Jungkook and Hoseok just inside the room.

“--I think we all know…” The blood drains from both Y/n and Jimin’s faces as Jungkook and Hoseok look to each other in alarm. Jin nods, Yoongi smiling awkwardly to confirm what Tae’s saying. The air in the house is cold, no one willing to break the tense silence while Y/n processes what she’s just heard. She meets Jungkook’s eyes then, his gaze betraying the immense fear that he’s feeling, much like the ice running through her veins.

None of them even notice the front door opening behind Jimin, the three Marauders stumbling into the house, disheveled but generally unscathed. They stop short at the scene before them, glancing amongst themselves before James is breaking the silence himself.

“Are we… interrupting something…?”

--

“Okay, someone start talking before I go insane.” They’re all crowded into the living room meant only for a few people, Y/n and Remus sitting together on a couch in the middle of the room, everyone else taking up the extra seats and floor space. It looks like a club meeting gone horribly wrong, if the discomfort in everyone’s eyes is anything to go by. Y/n looks around after demanding an explanation, finally looking to Namjoon, as he’s the only one she’d been aware of until a few minutes ago. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“After Jimin suddenly stopped all the obsessive theorizing and curiosities, I got suspicious… I had a feeling he’d put everything together, and I was worried that he was getting himself into some kind of trouble because that’s just the kind of nosy Ravenclaw he is. I just put it together myself so I could help him if I needed to…” Jimin grimaces at Namjoon’s words, knowing them to be true but disliking the description all the same.

The glare of irritation Jungkook’s been shooting him doesn’t help, but Hoseok pulls the Gryffindor’s attention away with a bump of his knee against Jungkook’s thigh. When Jungkook drags his burning gaze away from Jimin to look at Hoseok, Jimin’s shocked to see that Hoseok’s simply shaking his head at the Jeon heir, silently telling him to back off. Jimin’s eyes widen then, never having experienced such a sense of stunned relief as he feels in this moment with Hoseok’s quiet support.

Jungkook turns his annoyed gaze over to the spot where Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi sit. He locks eyes with his roommate of six years.

“Tae?” The boy in question looks down at his hands sheepishly, glancing at Y/n in a way that seems almost apologetic. When he lifts his head, he speaks directly to her, feeling that his explanation should be for her and her alone.

“Jimin’s my best friend… it would be weird if I wasn’t worried about him with him acting so strange. I didn’t really figure it out until the beginning of the summer, when I started spending more time with you -- I noticed how sick you’d get around the same time each month, and you’d always look so tired afterwards. I know we don’t know each other as well as Jimin knows you, but I was worried about you, so I… did my own digging and put the pieces together. It also explained a lot about all the times Jungkook would run out of our room in a panic in the middle of the night. There were just… a lot of things that made sense once I’d started to think about it.” Y/n keeps her eyes on him, trying to process the guilt in his eyes and wondering why he sounds so upset. “I know that you’re probably terrified of us knowing, but I promise I was just worried about you. I’m sorry I was snooping in your life…”

Y/n sees then that Taehyung feels the same kind of responsibility that Jimin had always carried in his eyes -- one of fear that his actions would bring her harm. He’d been sitting with that for the whole summer, quietly trying his best to keep her safe by pretending he knew nothing at all. She opens her mouth to tell him that he has nothing to feel bad about, but Jin’s clearing his throat.

“I, uh-- we--” He gestures to the space between himself and Yoongi, whose gaze is one of cautious observation as the conversation goes on around him. “We… were on our way back to Yoongi’s room and overheard you and Hoseok talking -- something about Jimin finding out… Hoseok was really upset, and he was kind of yelling. We didn’t mean to eavesdrop -- it’s just that we were right outside, and you were trying to calm him down, and he was just saying a lot of stuff that was confusing and weird, but it was obvious what was going on.” Jin glances over at Yoongi as if to confirm his story, and the Slytherin only nods. He turns back to Y/n, finishing his explanation. “We found out together--”

“Actually--” Everyone’s attention turns to Yoongi, who shifts uncomfortably under the weight of their gazes. He clears his throat, scratching at his neck while he finds his words. “Actually… I already knew by then. I think, based on what everyone’s been saying, that I probably knew before any of them…” He trails off, leaving the group to devolve into strained chaos.

“Wait, you knew?”

“How long have you known?!”

“When did you find out?” Ignoring the barrage of questions, Yoongi only looks to Hoseok, whose eyes tell how shocked he is. Flicking his gaze to Y/n, Yoongi continues.

“Do you remember when we first met? That night in the Hospital Wing -- it was before winter break.” Y/n’s jaw drops as her memories fly all the way back to December -- almost a year prior. “I went to visit you, originally because Hobi had mentioned something about going to visit a friend and I was looking for an excuse to see him.” Hoseok laughs under his breath, still stunned into disbelief about the situation, but Yoongi hasn’t stopped talking, almost rambling now.

“I had just found out that you guys were even friends -- it was really weird for me to think about, you know? Until then, he’d only ever been friends with Slytherins, and even then he seemed hesitant about getting close to them. I mean, I get it, that’s how I was, too. But to find out that my roommate since first year had a secret friend group with people that made no sense for him to know -- I was curious about you. I wanted to see what you were like. Especially because Jimin was, like, obsessed with you -- sorry, Jimin.” The Ravenclaw grimaces again, hating that he’s been described only as obsessive but knowing that that’s exactly what he’d been like.

“So… what does that have to do with finding out about me? How did you know?” Y/n leans forward, elbows on her knees as she looks intently at Yoongi. He sighs in response.

“Look. My entire life, I’ve been trying to separate myself from my name. My parents are objectively fucking insane, and I want nothing to do with them, especially now that they pulled that bullshit with the World Cup reservation. I can’t be like them, okay? I would rather die fighting on the right side of this war than ever pledge my allegiance to that nose-less freak. But that doesn’t change the fact that I still live at the Min Estate. And the Min Estate -- it’s like a beacon for the wicked and evil. I’ve seen every kind of creature walk through the doors of my house whenever my parents hold their Death Eater meetings. It’s like a monthly book club, but for murder. So I know what werewolves are like. I know the signs and the symptoms, and I know how cruel and vicious they can be.”

Y/n breaks her gaze then, staring down at her feet as he confirms every fear that she’s ever felt -- that she would be seen as a monster, an evil beast with only the instinct to kill. All the same, it hurts to hear him say it out loud.

“And that’s why I knew you were nothing like them.” Y/n’s head whips up, and she sees that Yoongi’s focused on conveying to her with his eyes that he means what he’s said. He doesn’t see the affection that fills Hoseok’s gaze, replacing the icy fear he’d been feeling the entire time Yoongi’s been talking.

“You’re nothing like them, Y/n. You’re kind and considerate, and you’re so shy around new people that even I’m in pain just watching you struggle to talk. You’re really fucking weird, and your sense of humor has been shaped by growing up with a crazy ass Gryffindor brother and this sarcastic asshole--” He points then to his boyfriend, finally feeling confident enough to look Hoseok in the eye as he cracks the joke before returning his attention to Y/n.

“So, yes, you’re a werewolf. But you’ve got nothing to worry about with me. Or any of us, to be honest.” The rest of the group nods then, and Y/n feels the air returning to her lungs after so long of holding her breath. It’s only when she looks to Remus, who still seems unsure, that she remembers how complicated their situation is.

“I appreciate that, I really do. You guys have no idea how scared I was that you’d find out… but it’s not as simple as you think -- not that any of this has been simple to begin with. It’s just… more complicated--”

“So, are we talking about Remus, or something else?” Taehyung speaks up, looking genuinely confused about what she’s alluding to. James and Sirius tense where they sit on either side of Remus, whose gaze has just become very guarded.

“I’m not sure what you mean--”

“The ‘you being a werewolf’ thing? Yeah, that wasn’t hard to figure out once I knew what to look for in Y/n.” It’s Jin who cuts him off, Yoongi and Namjoon nodding along. Jungkook throws his hands in the air, flopping back against the couch with an exasperated sigh.

“Just how bad are we at keeping things a secret around here?!” Remus groans in response, but James and Sirius seem to be taking the news in stride.

“Look on the bright side, Moony -- now we have an army of hooligans to keep you guys safe!” Remus rolls his eyes in irritation before looking to Y/n for help. She stares down at her hands, feeling more exhausted than she’s ever felt in her life -- and she experiences monthly painful transformations that leave her bedridden for days after.

“This isn’t a joke, James.” The Potter boy snaps his mouth shut when, for the first time since meeting her, Y/n’s voice carries an edge when she addresses him. “The number of people that are in danger now because of what we are has just doubled. And now there are muggleborns involved -- what’s going to happen if anyone gets wind that they know something about us? With what the Ministry’s just released… it’s too much. This is all too much.” Namjoon hums then, pulling Y/n out of the dangerously dark mental dive she was just about to take.

“I mean, we’re involved in this war whether we know about you guys or not. We’re already fighting for our lives -- what difference does it make if we know what you are? If anything, it gives us a reason to fight harder.” He gestures among all of them, all eleven of them in that room.

“We’re all we have left in this war -- why wouldn’t we do everything it takes to keep each other safe?”

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper - Part Twelve

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader Warnings: Mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of drug use, fluff, smidge of angst? Length: 1.7k Notes: Managed to whip up this bad boy during a quiet moment today and should probably make y’all wait for it but I don’t really do posting schedules (as you’ve noticed) so enjoy. Not beta’d, not proof read, I’ll die on this messy hill.

Series Masterlist

Surprisingly, life didn't change too much after that night. Frankie continued to run his acreage and oversee the making of this year's cider. With some encouragement and support from you, he was starting to expand the business and already had a few pubs in the closest city clamouring to have his product on tap.

Meanwhile, the improvements on the house were nearing an end, for the indoors list anyways. The first thing Frankie had helped you do was to install your new soaker tub, immediately followed by christening it by making soft, slow love to you inside of it.

There hadn't even been any water, your impatience to be close to each other wouldn't allow for that. You had just stripped out of your coveralls, convenient work-wear for people who fucked like rabbits you had to admit, and sat in his lap with your arms and legs wrapped around him. His hands guiding your hips in a slow rocking motion, breathing each other's air as your open mouths hovered in a not-quite kiss, only breaking eye contact when you threw your head back as you came.

Autumn passed quickly and Winter had gripped Vermont, cloaking the countryside in a heavy blanket of white. Christmas was a cozy affair, you and Frankie had been asked to join Jacquie and Mark in their family's merriment. It had stirred something inside of you, watching a functional family laugh, sing, argue, eat, and love with such abandon. 

It was everything you'd dreamt, initially, for your future with Brad. Now? Now you were starting to picture that future with Frankie's face as the patriarch, you just haven't built up the nerve to broach the subject yet. 

You'd started working at the bakery, enjoying the early mornings surrounded by rising dough and sculling back coffees with the adorable older ladies who ran the place. You'd also begun doing the books for Morales Acres and Catfish Brewery. Frankie was a veritable genius but he claimed he had no patience for keeping receipts and tracking numbers.

You had a sneaking suspicion he was playing dumb in an effort to give you more time together but you really didn't mind. Your break-of-dawn mornings at the bakery had you tired, but after a full day of renovating or bookkeeping, you were downright exhausted and ready for bed by eight pm. This, mixed with Frankie monitoring the brewing, bottling, and distribution of his cider and networking at bars and pubs throughout the state meant the two of you rarely saw each other.

All of your hard work in your own house had made you a popular friend to call when someone needed decorating advice, or a helping hand once they realized they couldn't tile their kitchen backsplash solo. You never charged for your time, although payment had initially been offered until work had got around that you preferred a good meal and conversation over money. I mean, sure, you could use the cash but it just didn't seem right. And you loved helping people and making deeper connections with the town you now truly felt you belonged in.

Tuesday evenings had become an unofficial date night for the two of you. The bakery was closed on Wednesdays and bar owners tended to be less interested in business halfway through the week, something to do with the rush of the previous weekend having worn off and the worry of setting up for another one starting to grow.

This meant you could stay up late, enjoy a proper homemade dinner, maybe even watch a movie or share a bottle of wine while soaking in your big ass tub. It usually ended as a sleepover, your house being the preferred location; Frankie's loft was perfectly fine but it did lack a certain homey appeal.

This pattern, this life, that you'd created for yourself was making you happier than you'd ever been in your entire life. You weren't one hundred percent content, not yet anyway, but the path to getting there was on a direct trajectory. You still wanted to finish your college degree, maybe switch it over to horticulture. Building a greenhouse and selling flowers was still a pipe dream but something your heart truly longed for, something that Frankie was constantly encouraging you to do.

"Look, hun," he had called out to you a few weeks ago while supposedly researching the new line of bottles. "There's an auction next county over and they have all this confiscated stuff from a grow op that got busted!"

"What?" You'd made a face and laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What on earth would you use from a pot farm?"

He just gave you a salacious wink as an answer.

Frankie had been open about his past drug abuse and while some recovering addicts may want all mention of it banned from a conversation, Frankie found levity in treating the topic like any other person would.

It had taken you a couple of hours to realize why he'd brought up the auction. It had hit you with a jolt, knowing that he’d remembered your rambling from on top of the Ferris wheel. You didn't realize he'd been listening when you'd told him about your idea of taking over the flower stand at the market once the current couple retired.

Your heart had swelled and there was a concerted effort to prevent the sudden onset of tears from running down your face. God, you loved this man, maybe one of these days you should tell him...

This particular routine was working well for the two of you. It gave each of you your own space to relax, destress, enjoy the shitty tv shows you were too embarrassed to watch in front of another living person. It also forced the two of you to take your relationship slowly, communication being a constant learning curve. You were both really good and telling each other when you needed time alone, when you were feeling stressed or sad. You each had learned the tells for when the other was angry or just hungry, if it was hormones or if there was something that was actually pissing you off.

The thing you each seemed to struggle with was expressing the softer side of the relationship. Neither of you appeared to have the Words of Affirmation love language skill, yet you both craved to hear it. You showed how much you cared for Frankie with your acts of service; helping him with the boring side of the business, baking, deep cleaning the loft, even scrubbing out the massive fermenter in the Catfish Cider warehouse.

Frankie, on the other hand, showed his love through physical touch. At first, you had assumed it was a staking-his-claim kind of thing but then you noticed how he'd do it all the time. A hand on your lower back while walking, caressing your hand with his thumb when driving in the truck, carding his fingers through your hair while you watched tv.

This week's date night found you at his place, relaxing in the loft after a busy workday. You were making dinner while he 'helped' by sneaking bites of the prepped ingredients, arm slung around you with a hand in your back pocket.

"What're you looking for?" He asked, taking advantage of your distracted searching through his cupboards to sneak a few more pinches of grated cheese.

"A can opener!" You replied, exasperation raising your voice an octave. "I could have sworn I saw a white one around here somewhere..."

“No, pretty sure that one's yours. I don't think I have one?"

"Frankie," you deadpanned "how did you survive as a bachelor without canned food?"

"I ate a lot of take-out?" He looked indignant at your laughter, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Can you stop judging me long enough to eat some burritos?"

Smoothing his playful scowl with a kiss, you sat down at the counter and enjoyed your first meal together of the week.

An idea was formulating in the back of your mind, though, and you barely tasted anything. As the evening progressed, the idea grew and you were liking it more and more. The final straw was you not having a toothbrush in his bathroom anymore, having forgotten that it had fallen off the counter and into the trashcan the last time you'd spent the night.

Using his, with a strange mixture of distaste and nonchalance, before making your way over to the bed, you began to plan how the conversation could go:

Hey Frankie, so you know how I have a big house all to myself? Yeah... And it had everything we need in it? Yeah... And there's more than enough room for two adults to store all of their things? Yeah... And I wouldn't have to use your toothbrush ever again? Yea- wait what? I think you should move in with me.

It wasn't very romantic but it was the most likely, considering your dynamic. Just as you were crawling into bed and snuggling under the arm he'd raised to allow you to get closer, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? - This is he. - Yeah, biological. - Oh god, when?"

The immediate change in his tone from questioning to horrified caught your attention, sitting up to face him you grabbed his free hand, silently letting him know you were there for support.

His eyes were out of focus and a panicked expression was slowly morphing his face as the conversation went on, but he gave your hand a squeeze back in acknowledgement.

"Yes, in Vermont. Do you have my address? - Okay, good, good...okay - When? - I'll have something ready. Umm... does she... does she remember me? - Oh. Okay, thank you."

Slowly lowering the phone from his ear, Frankie sat staring into nothingness for what felt like hours. His side of the conversation and the way he was reacting had you rattled. You could guess as to what was happening but weren't sure if now was the right time to pry.

"Babe? Is, is everything okay?"

Silence.

Gripping his hand tighter and rubbing his back you sat with him for a few more minutes before trying again. You didn’t want to push him but your heart was constricting in your chest from nervousness and concern for him.

"Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

His hand was now completely dead in yours; eventually, he turned his head towards you, eyes never fully focusing, and shook his head.

"I- she- fuck... I think you should go.”

Part Thirteen

[purpleyellow]

Hide & Seek

NCT 24th member / Dream 8th member

Bee’s Masterlist

“The two times Bee avoided Mark and the one she didn’t”

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open!💛

Growing up, in general, is a pain in the ass, and Bee isn't the happiest about having to deal with it. She doesn't know if it's because of how she was raised, or if it's just her personality, but the girl cannot see herself as an adult.

You see, adults are supposed to manage five different tasks, have most things thought out, and try to handle everything that comes their way. Bee, however, wants to lay in bed at every minor inconvenience and wishes she could freeze time so she can digest what's happening.

She can see herself as those five-year-olds who pout, cross their arms and look away when you tell them they can't have ice cream for dinner. Just like she can see Jeno as those parents who bribe their kids to eat vegetables with a false promise of going to the ice cream parlor on the next day.

"Why don't you want to talk to him?" Jeno whispers to Bee midst the chaos in the van. The first time she successfully avoids Mark is when the members are leaving SM after a long day of figuring out stuff for the comeback. Things were only starting to come together, and the boy knows that if Mark and the girl don't figure out everything soon it's not going to be a fun process.

"I don't have anything to say" She mumbles looking out of the window. Jeno turns her head back to him before continuing.

"Maybe Mark has something. Or maybe he has questions"

"Good for him" She simply states. "I already said everything, so I'm not helpful to talk to"

"And you stand by everything you said almost six months ago?" He asks while trying not to laugh "You didn't think about it anymore? There, you said it and moved on"

"Yes, I stand by everything" She lies. Bee has relived every single conversation she has had with or about Mark especially lately, cringing at some stuff she said, making up better answers, and overanalyzing every little word even if they don't mean a thing. Jeno probably knows she does that, yet she's not going to admit that easily, because admitting means confronting the situation.

"Just maybe think things are exponentially worst when you're trying to avoid the topic instead of solving it once and for all" The boy mumbles and she rolls her eyes. Mentally thanking the manager who happened to pull up next to their building

Trying to escape that conversation as fast as possible, Bee holds onto the back of the seat in front of her, accidentally hitting Jaemin in the head, and jumps past Jeno, who frows as he watches her bolt out of the vehicle.

The girl only stops as she reaches the elevator because of the light feeling on her hoodie pocket. She had left her phone behind, throwing away all the work she just put into getting to her room without speaking with anyone else.

Walking back to the van, Bee keeps her head down to avoid making eye contact and waves off Renjun after he shared a proverb about people skipping a step only to return two. Honestly, he might have said something different because the meaning flew right above her head.

The manager, who had also left the vehicle to check on something at their apartment, throws his keys for her to catch and tells her to be quick.

Bee goes straight to the seat she had occupied and starts searching through the openings where the phone might have fallen from, ultimately deciding it was somewhere on the floor. Patting away underneath hers and Jeno's seat, she finally moves on to the row in front of them, getting scared by a light and the muffled sound of her phone ringing.

Almost like a miracle, she was getting a call from someone who might have saved her a couple of seconds of searching. Reaching out for the device, her smug grin turns to a frown as the name "Minhyung from Canada" shines on her screen. A confused noise leaves her mouth while Bee gets up from the floor, though her debating over either answering or not doesn't go very far due to said Canadian standing at the door of the van.

"I thought if I helped out find it, you would finally listen to me," Mark says, ending the call. Though, it seems like that was the only line he had rehearsed because after it they both stay in awkward silence, making Bee look down at the device in her hands before raising an eyebrow.

"Well, my hand touched it before the call got connected?" She, not as confidently, lies again.

Mark shakes his head adamantly "No it didn't"

"Do you have eyes on the floor?" The girl frowns trying to make that topic last longer but he doesn't fall for it.

"Yunhee," He says in a disappointed tone which Bee copies by saying "Mark"

Mark raises one eyebrow feeling rather playfully. "Mark Oppa?" and she rolls her eyes while planing an escape route.

The boy seems to remember what he was there for and scratches his head, suddenly bringing back the awkward mood.

"We should clear everything up, you know" His tone is back to uncertain surprising her by the sudden change and Bee feels her hands clamming up. She knows he's waiting for her to show any kind of reaction but for some reason, she cannot have any.

"Guys, I have to get the car back to the building. You can keep the conversation going at either of your dorms" The manager pops his head through the driver’s seat before climbing it. Bee hands him the keys and both idols slowly step out of the vehicle. Her mind is still blankly looking for a way to avoid listening to whatever the older had to say when the man magically says something that fixes all of her problems. "Actually, Mark come here, it's about 127's schedule tomorrow, something came up"

And she doesn't stay to listen as she bolts to the elevator that's taking her to her safe and Mark-free bedroom.

☆☆☆

The second time Bee avoids him, or gets saved by another person, happened a few days after the van accident when she rapidly types on her phone while running to the end of the hallway where the SM elevators are.

The sound indicating the doors opening on her floor catches her attention and Bee doesn't have to fully look inside the place to see Mark standing on the edge, ready to walk out of it. Almost without thinking, her feet make her turn left into another hallway and she instinctively makes her way to the room she had visited many times before.

Bee knows for a fact Mark is supposed to go to the studio she had just left, so the fact she can hear him doing the same route she is, makes adrenaline pump inside of her and the girl starts sprinting as fast as she can.

She finds it stupid how her brain suddenly read that moment as her being chased by something dangerous, but there's not enough time to let her process the situation. Instead, Bee barges through the door of Kun's studio and throws herself onto the space between the empty couch and the wall.

Crouching so she's hidden by the armrest, Bee simply says "I'm not here" before staring at the floor in front of her, making the WayV leader question why he's even surprised at that point.

A series of three knocks on the door makes Kun get up and go greet whoever had the decency to announce themselves before interrupting his work like half of his groupmates usually do. Keeping the door half-opened, he's half surprised by Mark standing a little distance away while seemingly sorry to be in that position.

"Hyung, my bad for coming here. But I was wondering if I could talk to Bee" The boy says scratching his eyebrow.

"I mean, of course, you can" Kun starts making the girl's heart drop "I'm not sure why you're asking me, though. And next time you see her, let her know I also need to speak with her"

"Oh, yeah. Sure?" Mark says uncertainly tilting his head and closing his eyes. He stares inside the room through the small space Kun allowed and sighs defeated "Sorry about it, I'll just go"

Waving to the boy, Kun waits for him to walk a little before closing the door and turning to the hidden girl. "You know we could see the top of your head, right?"

"Wait, he saw me?" Bee asks with wide eyes, supporting her head on the armrest and the boy rolls his eyes "Probably yes. The kid is just too polite to say anything about it"

Standing up from the ground, the girl sits on the couch to wait for a little before leaving the room. Kun takes the opportunity to throw himself back on his chair and interrogates her.

"Why are you avoiding Mark?"

"I stole his charger so now he's mad" She pouts looking at the ground making the older scoff.

"I'm not buying anything that simple. Don't think I haven't noticed you've been almost daily in our dorm instead of hanging out with your unit. We like when you visit but it became a little weird when we're not even there yet you still go hide inside our apartment"

"It's too complicated" She sighs craning her neck to check the clock "And I'm actually late for something, so you'll have to deal with my stupid high school problems sometime later"

"They're only stupid because you thought over them a million times and began downplaying whatever they are. You can't do that forever and you know it"

"Confrontation makes me cry, so I'll try my best to keep pushing it away" Bee smiles like something uplifting was said and stands up "See you later"

"Sure, good luck with your date" Kun smirks turning back to the table and checking on his work. Noticing she hadn't actually left the door he lets out a chuckle "Chenle told me about it"

"It's not a date. Chenle was literally invited to tag along" Bee rolls her eyes and he shrugs despite not looking back at her.

"Sure, have fun"

☆☆☆

Ever since Mark first showed his confusion over how things were going, Bee tried really hard not to make the situation awkward for everyone. She didn't want them to be extra careful around her, nor feel like this big dramatic thing was going on between the group. And to lessen her worries, the dreamies seemed to act the same they had always been.

There is the fact she isn't talking to Mark, but much to her surprise, the girl realized she never really relied a lot on speaking to him. Pretending everything was fine became part of her routine for that two weeks.

But just like Kun caught onto her distancing herself, a bunch of staff members also did. The choreographer who first introduced them to the routine asked her a couple of times if everything was okay, and the producer noticed the idol was out of the room the time she was finished, not really mingling like the rest of the boys.

Those two didn't really say anything about it, since she was still getting work done. That isn't the same for the management team, who not only saw her change in behavior but feared how much of that would be noticeable in videos and the overall dynamic of what they had waiting for the comeback.

"Bee, can I talk to you for a second" One particular manager called for her as she was resting on the corner of the dance studio.

Bee gathered her things in a pile on the floor and got up to follow him out of the room. The man had worked with NCT for a really long time, but he wasn't the closest manager to her, nor had ever taken care of her individual schedules. She knew whatever he had to tell her wasn't going to be very good.

"We don't want to intrude on whatever is going on in your life. But the moment it affects the group I'm afraid somebody needs to step in" The man sighs walking slowly next to her "If you're not feeling well, or something happened to make you not want to be around the members you need to act on it, or tell somebody so no one gets suspicious of it"

"I'll make sure no one notices it" She mumbles playing with her ring and rolls her shoulders "It's not something to be worried about though. Nothing really happened"

"We'll some people started to point out on Jisung's graduation video that you're often really quiet. Considering your personality it's nothing out of the ordinary, but you can't afford it pilling up and fans talking about it. We're aware of what that saesang said last year and don't think the company forgets easily if more fans start thinking you don't want to be in the group or doesn't belong in it, it's going to be a big problem"

"More people are talking about it?" Bee glances once again to the ring Renjun made her wear.

"It's a small number so far, but there are those who think that by Mark coming back and you being a little quieter, your place might be in another unit," He notices her gaze turning down and places a hand on her shoulder"Don't stress over it right now, just dedicate yourself a little more to the group and show you have a place in it. It should pass after some time"

Patting her, he reminds her to 'go back to normal before heading back to his work. Bee feels a slight headache creeping in and sneaks into a smaller room dedicated to vocal training, where she drops her body on a chair and closes her eyes to either sleep or try to gather some courage and face everything she has avoided so far.

The girl ends up doing neither because a few seconds pass and Mark pushes his head inside the room.

"Can we talk now?" He asks and without any energy left, Bee nods to the chair next to her for him to sit.

[along-came-atsushi]

Parallels between 55 Minutes and Dead Apple

While reading 55 Minutes a while ago, I realized that its story and Dead Apple had some interesting parallels or shared the same ideas.

Looking at certain scenes in the Dead Apple novel, some parallels became even more apparent. Sometimes, even the same or similar words were used.

I don’t think there is a deeper meaning behind this honestly, but I find it interesting to point out nonetheless.

  [Side Note: 55 Minutes was released in 2016, while the novel for the Dead Apple movie was released in 2018. 55 Minutes was written by Asagiri Kafka, while he only collaborated with others for the story of Dead Apple. The novel itself was written by Hiro Iwahata.]

Beware: Major spoilers for 55 Minutes and Dead Apple!

  1.  Weapon or abilities described as red heat or red sphere

55 Minutes: The main threat is a weapon called “The Shell” that upon activating, covers Standard Island and Yokohama in a red heat wave, vaporizing all life:

The sky was dyed red. […] Red. Everything was red—the ocean, the island, even Yokohama at the other end of the horizon.

.

“That’s the Shell.” The terrorist briskly walked over to Atsushi. “The crimson celestial sphere of annihilation.”

.

The crimson dome burned like a small star that had fallen upon the earth with an extraordinary amount of heat locked inside. The fiery enclosure rapidly imploded. The heat rushing towards its core.

  Dead Apple: Abilities collected by Shibusawa are described as red crystals. Upon merging two abilities together by Dazai, they turn into a red apple/sphere:

The two lights melted into one and spun until they formed a single sphere. They had produced a single apple—a juicy, poisoned apple red as blood. […]

The apple swelled as it absorbed numerous crystals until the red light became hotter than the surface of hell.

.

A hellish red light radiated as a violent wind gusted from the giant sphere.

  -> After this Shibusawa gets “killed” by Fyodor, turns into a dragon and releases a red fog that is about to cover the whole earth and turn it into the so-called dead apple.

   2. Allusion to Odasaku and Ango

55 Minutes: It’s been revealed that the Colonel who wanted to activate The Shell was the former mentor of Gide, the leader of Mimic. By activating The Shell, he wanted to state an example and for the truth about Mimic to be revealed. He blames himself for not being able to stop his former subordinates back then. Dazai remembers the Mimic Incident and with it, of course, the painful memories of Odasaku and Ango:

“You won’t find anything,” Dazai suddenly said while turning his gaze out the window. “The Division made sure to completely cover it up. You won’t find any records of their [Mimic] deaths, nor will you even find a single photo accidentally taken of them […]. The Division is good at jobs like that, after all.” […]

But Dazai didn’t say a word as he stared at a point in the sky with an elbow resting on the table. It was as if his eyes weren’t focused on the scenery outside, but were watching vivid memories playing back in his mind.

“I feel bad for the colonel, but there’s no reason to dig up the past and disclose to the public what happened to them,” Dazai revealed in a flat voice. “They died satisfied. Now is their time to rest.”

  -> Even though Ango and Odasaku aren’t directly mentioned, it’s still clear from the context and Dazai’s reaction.

  Dead Apple: Dazai visits the Bar Lupin, the former usual meeting point of him and his two friends:

He was in his usual spot—the seat next to Odasaku’s—and he was talking to the empty space next to him as if Odasaku were still here.

“What’ll we toast to today?”

“You’re not gonna wait for Ango to get here?”

Dazai could practically hear his friend’s voice.

.

That used to be routine, but now it was all in the past—never to return.

“…Ango isn’t coming,” Dazai replied to Odasaku’s casual remark from years ago. So many things had changed since then. Odasaku was no longer by his side, and Ango didn’t come to this pub anymore. Dazai sat at the counter alone. He was waiting for no one.

  -> Apparently these memories are still so vivid to Dazai that he can play them like a movie in his head, as it is described in both scenes.

   3. Ability/Ability User that is able to absorb other abilities

55 Minutes: Verne’s ability “The Mysterious Island” is revealed to absorb every ability from all the people who have died there. After his own ability took over Verne and transformed into its own lifeform, Gab is still able to do the same:

It was an extremely rare skill. Its range extended across the island he claimed as his domain, and it absorbed all the skills of the people who died there.

.

Well’s skill wouldn’t allow the same person to return to the past more than once, but if Verne used his skill to keep stealing hers, he would always be using the skill for the first time.

  Dead Apple: Shibusawa collects user’s abilities, once they die in a fight against them, which is similar to absorbing abilities, even though the technique is a little bit different:

“Each one of these is a skill, huh?” Dazai muttered coldly as he looked at the wall. “That’s a huge collection you got yourself.”

.

The apple appeared in Dazai’s hand and gently rose to the ceiling before stopping. It birthed a skill—an extremely powerful one at that—the ability to absorb.

.

In other words, Shibusawa was finally able to obtain Dazai’s skill through killing him.

   4. Dazai gets stabbed from behind by the main antagonist

55 Minutes: Dazai gets stabbed by Gab:

Dazai froze as if the rest of his sentence had been plucked clean off. And the tip of a blade was now sticking out of his chest. […] Dazai tried to turn around, but whoever was behind him pushed the knife deeper inside him and twisted it. […] With his arm stuck out, he turned slightly to the side before folding and crumpling to the ground.

  Dead Apple: Dazai gets stabbed by Shibusawa:

Right as Dazai reached for the massive photosphere […] something struck him in the back. […] His eyes opened wide. He could feel a burning pin shoot through his chest. [...]

Standing behind him was Tatsuhiko Shibusawa, […] In his hand was a knife that glowed dully as it pierced Dazai’s back. […] Dazai then collapsed.

   5. Dazai as an obstacle for the main antagonist

55 Minutes: Gab needs to kill Dazai, so that he can’t nullify him with his skill:

Gab’s natural enemy—Dazai—worked at the detective agency. Dazai nullified all skills he touched. […] However, if Dazai was to touch flesh, he [Gab] would cease to exist. […]

For Gab, the threat of Dazai’s skill was equivalent to having a knife shoved into his throat. There was only one way to remove the threat—kill Dazai so that his skill wouldn’t activate.

  Dead Apple: Shibusawa kills Dazai not only to obtain his ability, but also because Dazai had been nullifying his fog:

“There is no next move. I already found the skill I was searching for.” Shibusawa lightly gestured to him with an open hand. “Yours.”

Shibusawa’s eyes gleefully lit up as he gazed down at Dazai on the floor. “From the very start. You were the only one I was after.”

.

Shibusawa’s fog had the power to separate skills from their owners. Up until now, Dazai’s skill had been nullifying its effect, but it stopped working the moment he died.

   6. Dazai sharing or revealing something about himself to Atsushi

55 Minutes: Dazai says why he wants to kill himself:

“Dazai,” Atsushi said from behind him, “why do you want to kill yourself?” Dazai turned around and looked at Atsushi. It was his usual smile − a cheerful smirk that made him impossible to read. Dazai slightly opened his eyes as if to say, “Oh yeah. I guess I haven’t told you yet.” He grinned and answered:

“Because I        .”

What did Dazai say that day? The more I try to remember, the further these distant memories sink into the glow of the evening sun.

  -> It’s unknown why Atsushi can’t remember Dazai’s answer. Maybe it was too shocking, maybe he simply just didn’t hear it properly. Maybe this whole conversation never happened and it was just a fever dream. For now, it is up to interpretation.

  Dead Apple: Dazai talks about Odasaku and admits he had killed during his mafia time:

“So…” Atsushi spoke up as Dazai idly daydreamed. “Was this someone you used to be in love with, or…?” […]

“…He was a friend of mine,” Dazai added quietly. […] “He’s the reason I quit the Port Mafia and joined the agency. I’d probably still be killing people for the mafia if it wasn’t for him.”

Atsushi was baffled. He had no idea whether that was true. What did Dazai mean by that? Curious, Atsushi turned around to face Dazai, but all he could see was his back.

  -> In both scenes it’s described as Atsushi standing behind Dazai or seeing his back, which could empathize that he can’t see through Dazai or be sure about his true feelings (and in addition every other character in-universe as well as the reader). Furthermore it could also symbolize that Dazai hides his true feelings. This is accompanied by an illustration in the novel. But there is also a scene in the manga where Atsushi thinks about the ADA members with Dazai’s back turned to him:

   7. Akutagawa as a guidance or motivator for Atsushi

55 Minutes: Atsushi and Akutagawa are both restrained by Gab’s ability and can’t move. Akutagawa already tried to break free, but his ability is physically too thin to cut through Gab’s.

Akutagawa then “kills” Atsushi in order to awaken his tiger power, since the latter doubts himself of being capable enough. Later he assists and assures Atsushi in defeating Gab:

“Tch. Akutagawa clicked his tongue. “Then it appears your fists are the only things that will work.”

He was right. Atsushi’s tiger fists would be big enough to land a blow. But as long as his arms were stuck… […] Atsushi used all the muscle he had to break free, but he still couldn’t pull his body out. He didn’t even budge.

.

“Do you understand that? There are things I can do that you cannot.” The wind howled. Akutagawa’s dark blade pierced Atsushi’s throat.

.

A tiger roared. Atsushi responded. […] His body went through an unworldly transformation. He had to move forward. If he didn’t understand, then he had to find out why. […]

“Good,” said a voice. “Now hurry. Do not waste my time, Man-Tiger.

.

But out of nowhere, a black fabric appeared underneath, stretching from the surface. It became a platform for him [Atsushi] to stand on and support his weight. Quietly looking up at Atsushi from the surface was Akutagawa. His gaze quietly said, “Finish it. Bring him peace.”

  Dead Apple: Akutagawa withholds information to Atsushi on purpose, about why he isn’t able to regain his ability despite having defeated it:

“You fool,” spewed Akutagawa. “Have you seriously not figured it out yet?!” […]

“Akutagawa!” Atsushi screamed in spite of himself. “What’s that supposed to mean?! Answer me!”

But Akutagawa didn’t look back. He simply disappeared into the fog as he headed toward the fortress.

Why…? Why…?! Why am I the only one who doesn’t get it?!

  -> Although it’s noteworthy that Kyouka does the same, with high probability for the same reasons (Atsushi having to figure it out by himself).

   8. Atsushi is forced to kill a dangerous, unnatural existence

This is very interesting in the way it’s been build up in both cases. First the antagonist is described as an existence that is not natural (1), then their motive gets explained (2), Atsushi shows up, saying why their actions are wrong or what he’s about to do (3), and then the deaths of the antagonists are described as some form of salvation (4):

55 Minutes:

(1) The island’s skill rid itself of Verne’s personality and robbed him of his flesh. That was when the living skill Gab was born.

.

(2) What made him different from Verne was his reason. The guardian of the island, Verne, wanted to save everyone. Gab, on the other hand, didn’t care whether people died.

.

(3) “But you can’t separate humans and their skills. The reason you want friends is nothing more than a reminder from when you once where human. […]”

.

(4) Right as his fist was about to connect…

------I owe ya one.

…he heard the young man’s [Verne] voice.

  -> The last stage (4) gets even more underlined with Akutagawa assuring Atsushi by saying “Bring him peace”, as cited above.

  Dead Apple:

(1) Tatsuhiko Shibusawa had been reborn as a skill-like life-form—a divine being that wielded the power of the dragon.

.

(2) But his wish was still the same. He wanted to drive Atsushi into a corner so he could experience even more pain and torture than he did six years ago. This was a natural conclusion for Shibusawa to reach, for he believed that life was at its strongest and most beautiful when it was being pushed over the edge.

.

(3) “Here to kill me again, Atsushi Nakajima?” asked Shibusawa. […]

“I’m just sending something back to where it belongs,” he replied.

.

(4) “…I understand everything now. I know why you’re here, why you appeared before me, and what his words truly meant. You are the angel who will save me…” 

  -> Even before turning into a dragon beast, Shibusawa was already an undead being, and thus an unnatural existence.

   9. Abilities are described as sentient beings or something that can turn against the user

55 Minutes: Gab separated himself from Verne and took over his body:

While traveling into the past, the skill got stronger, transformed, and eventually grew to have a will of its own.

.

However, Gab’s consciousness was less stable compared with humans.

  Dead Apple: Ability users have their abilities taken away and are forced to fight against them to get them back:

It was Kunikida’s skill, The Matchless Poet. […] He had a good idea how his skill was going to attack, seeing as it was part of him once. He also knew that, unlike his notebook, the phantom’s notebook had the word Compromise written on the cover. A copy of himself that didn’t follow ideals but made compromises was an abomination to Kunikida.

   Lastly, there is also the topic of Dazai set as a motivator for Atsushi and Akutagawa and their bickering about what is right or wrong in regards to him. But since that happens often between them, I didn’t include it here.

[what-the--curtains]

There Are No Wolves In the Desert

( Oberyn Martell x f!reader, Robb Stark x f!reader)

Part 1 - The Wolf and The Outsider

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Summary: The series of events that have lead to you being in Dorne and why you can never return home.

Authors notes: Oberyn is not in this chapter but he will be in all subsequent chapters! This part is mainly context corner to build up the character! The reader is a distant relative of the Targaryens but I only mention hair colour and eye colour everything else will remain non- descript! Let me know if you want to be tagged (or untagged) in this story 😊😊

Tw: Swearing, violence, mentions of and allusion to sex (none depicted), war, murder the usual GOT stuff, major character death (I wonder who it could be👀👀)

Word count: 5.7k

Tagged: @evyiione

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Kings landing

Cersei tilts her head, eyes thinning as she gazes out over kings landing, the moon illuminating the gold plated roofs of the upper class, the stench of the poor unable to reach her here. Jamie sits on the bed she had shared with her late husband, slowly re-donning the white armour of the king's guard. He turns watching as the summer breeze blows the ends of her golden hair. His shin guard is clipped into place just as three short knocks sound out against the wooden door, filling the quiet air of the night. Sighing loudly Jamie stands up to answer the door, a smile forming on Cersei’s lips as she trunks to greet the visitor.

“Littlefinger, to what do we owe the displeasure,” Jamie asks, sarcasm dripping off every word.

“Funny… I thought knights usually waited outside the bedchamber of those they swore a sacred oath to protect,” he queries smiling, the candlelight illuminating his prominent front teeth.

“Is it done,” Cersei asks through her teeth, tiring of the man’s desperate attempts to hold some semblance of power.

“Yes. Not a soul left alive that isn’t loyal to house Baratheon... or is Lannister perhaps more apt. The north is ours for the taking now the young wolf has fallen, and Sansa is under control here.”

“What of his wife?” she asks, walking towards a nearby table, decanting wine into a goblet turning with eyebrows raised. Littlefinger was not the only one in Kings landing with ears everywhere. She had heard a rumour, one she wished to squash as soon as she can.

“His widow, you mean,” Jamie states from the door frame, dissatisfied at being left out of the conversation.

“Gone, left in the wee hours of the morning from what I heard,” Cersei says, eyes staring into Littlefinger’s, locked in a strategic game of mental chess.

“So she’s alive, ” Jamie adds, despite his previous statement being ignored.

“Not for long,” Littlefinger states , brushing him off.

“Who saw her leave?” Cersei demands, a hint of concern slipping through as she swirls her wine around in the glass.

“No one left alive,” Littlefinger reassures

“So she's...” Cersei begins,

“She’s set to land in Dorne two days from now, she will be dealt with when she arrives. She is…inconsequential.” Littlefinger finishes.

“And so ends the reign of the wolves,” Jamie remarks, as Cersei raises her glass toasting the gods.

Dorne (2 days later)

You watch the docks appear along the horizon as the ship begins to reduce its speed. The sea spray from the trip spattered across your skin was yet to dry, cooling you off, as the southern sun bares down onto you. You lick your lips, the salty taste leaves you parched in a heat the likes of which you’d never known. You’d never been to Dorne, though you’d heard stories of it’s fair weather, people and architecture, and you were eager to see if they held true. You’d heard the wine here was the sweetest the world had to offer, you planned on returning home with some, even if Dorne was merely a stopover. It was not a honeymoon you were here for, no you were here to complete a task of utmost importance. You came in search of the so-called dragon queen at the behest of your husband. He wanted to see if the rumours were true and if they were he hoped to make an ally of her. He had sent you in hopes that your shared lineage, though distant, would work in his favour. The Targaryens held family in high regard, especially with so few of them remaining. You smile as the shore comes into view, the birds above singing to your arrival. The golden hues of the late afternoon sun paint the tents of the markets in the docks. A sense of bliss rolls over you as the crew ties the ship to the dock. It would be one of the last moments of peace you would know for some time. Your feet make contact with the ground, legs wobbling slightly at being back on solid ground. You stumble slightly and a man with a blue beard catches your elbow.

“Winter is coming,” he whispers and you look up as he discreetly passes you a note. You open it. The letter is long and the script rushed, but seven words stand out ‘the King in the North has fallen’ the sheet slips from your fingers and you drop to your knees. “Quick, we haven’t much time,” he says dragging you up, as the first arrow pierces the sky, hitting the captain of your ship in the neck.

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

Winterfell, 7 years prior (age 17)

You had always stood out in the north, a caveat of the family you were born into, all of you were outsiders here. Your grandfather was a Targaryen, second cousin to the mad king and when war broke out he led a small rebellion that tried to push back the Baratheon troops storming the capitol, but to no avail. Your father and his brothers were there that day, fighting alongside him, but they were outnumbered, and no amount of skill would keep the combined Starks and the Baratheon forces at bay. After the capitol was taken, your grandfather was hanged and your grandmother took your father and his brother and feld while Robert butchered any descendents of the Targaryen line that would weaken his claim to the throne. Your father had split from his family opting to head north, while they trekked south. He never saw them again. Upon his arrival in Winterfell he built a small homestead outside the city walls and sought work, thankfully the distinctive hair and eye colour had skipped him and he could blend in with the northerners. He found work as a stone mason, crafting formidable architecture admired and paid for by the nobility. The payments allowed him to move up the social ladder and while he remained in the forest he had gained the respect of the elite and was accepted as one of them. His hands soon grew tired of creating. They craved the weight of a sword and so he gave up masonry and offered his services to Ned Stark. Your father became a confidant to the King in the North as he moved up through the ranks. He ended up training many of the soldiers, and for a while, even Ned’s own sons. His proximity to the crown brought him into the path of your mother.

A ball was held in celebration of their eldest child's first name day and your mother was in attendance representing the Tyrells. He spotted her across the room, and to this day he swears the sun shone down on her despite being inside a hall. He approached her that night and they married during the long summer, your brother Illirion was born a year later, then a year after that it was your turn. Their final child, your youngest brother Rhaevar was born two years after you, thus completing your family unit. While the honeyed eyes and dark toned hair of the Tyrells presented well with your brothers, the Targaryen traits that had initially skipped your father came through in your genetic composition. Your hair was as white as the snow that came to the north during the winter, and your eyes a lilac similar to the foxgloves that grew in the spring. You attended a local school until you reached the age where girls were no longer allowed to study. Whilst there you heard whispers from the other children. Every now and then a comment of “murderer” or “traitor” would be shot your way, much to your confusion. It wouldn’t be until years later than your parents would tell you why such comments were made. After school ended officially you continued your education at home and studied the methods of healing that your mother had been trained in while in Highgarden.

Your father insisted all his children learn how to defend themselves, the north was a dangerous place after all, and the threat of war loomed large. The stability between kingdoms was teetering, it had been peaceful for too long, a storm was coming. You’d proven to be of high talent, had it not been for your eldest brother's size you would have been the strongest fighter in the family. Illirion married at 18 to a noble girl of high status, and it wasn't long after that you lost many of your friends to marriage. Some of the pairing were good, some bad and some even for love. Despite being propositioned a few times, you had no interest in being a bride.Your parents did not mind now that your brother had secured a wife and would be able to care for you once they passed. Your father also had it on good authority that you all were to be cared for so long as a Stark sat at Winterfell.

You were acquainted with the family since childhood, though outside of parties you rarely saw them. During the gatherings you and Sansa often gossiped together and Arya would sneak you into the courtyard and beg you to train her. The time spent with them was greatly cherished. Their brothers were often gone during such events, off showcasing their prowess to girls of higher status than you, women who would one day be their wives. Little did you know, Jon and Robb had been told to stay away from you so as not to ruin your reputation. That rule had been followed until one day when a particularly cruel comment from a noble girl sent Arya running directly into your path.

You were out tracking a wolf that had killed one of your family's horses. It wasn’t revenge you sought, but its attack on your homestead meant it was getting closer to town, and growing far too bold for your liking. You’d stopped your trek once you realized it was headed back towards the wall. Approaching your house you see Arya sitting on a log outside your house near the fire pit. Her feet swinging, intermittently kicking at the dirt below.

“Arya?” you question placing your gear down on the ground as she turns to face you, her nose running, eye slightly red.

“Is Rhaevar around? I wish to play” she demands, her childlike nature apparent now more than ever.

“I’m afraid he’s gone off in search of the children of the forest, but perhaps we can find something to do together?” you offer sitting beside her, she was upset, evidently so.

“I have no want to stitch,” she huffs, causing you to laugh at her attempt to insult you.

“Good neither do I. I’m no good at it anyways,” you admit and she looks up at you “Well what do you wish, Arya? Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

“I wish to know how to shoot my arrow so it hits the target every time. I don’t care what Robb says, Jon thinks I can do it so I want to try.”

“Well, I can help with that, come I’ll show you a trick. You’ll hit it every time. Prove your eldest brother wrong,” your comment earns a rare grin from the youngest Stark daughter. After a few goes she gets the hang of it, hitting your practice targets one after the other.

“By the gods,” you chuckle, you’d never seen such natural talents before. Caught up in your admiration of her gift you fail to catch her turning to aim at a farther target still. The arrow soars through the air as two horses approach your homestead, the arrow only just missing them.

“Arya!” you shout, grabbing her arm “You must be careful!” you exasperate as she looks up to you her mouth ajar. The sound of the horses fast approaching.

“Get behind me,” you murmur, pushing in front of her and aiming the bow true.

“It’s Robb!” she shouts, pushing against you attempting to make a run for it. Despite her efforts to throw you off balance you manage to grab her arm, dropping your weapons in the process.

“Why are you running?” you ask, not releasing your grip on her scrawny arm.

“Because I don’t fit in!” she finally admits.

“Well a secret Arya, no one fits in, we're all different, it's what keeps life interesting and what will keep you alive in your years to come,” you say watching as she stops struggling a softness suddenly coming over her features.

“She said I had a face like a dog,” she whispers, chewing on her lip, eyes down. The cruelty of children was always surprising to you.

“Well I’d find it hard to find someone who does not see the tenderness of a pup, or the strength and beauty of a dire wolf. Either way, You have talents, beyond what beauty can measure, ones that will never abandon you,” you reassure. She sniffs and looks up at you offering a rare smile. You see her shift back into her tough persona, the scowl returning to her face as she runs towards the horses belonging to her brother and who you assumed must be his ward Theon. You watch the eldest Stark, now two years your senior drop down allowing Theon to help Arya, as he strides towards you.

“We’d be lucky to have you in our ranks, if you can teach her to nearly take my head off from a mile away,” he laughs, easing your nervousness slightly, his northern accent heavier than you had remembered.

“I did remind your sister to be more careful lest she be tried for treason, or worse yet, get me tried for treason. As for my services, they are always at the will of the Starks, if you wish me to join the army who am I to refuse,” you say, tilting your head and offering him a smile.

“Women are not allowed in our ranks, lest of all those who look like you,” he charms, an unexpected compliment from a man you rarely got the opportunity to speak with.

“Not yet, but rules are meant to be broken after all my Lord.” You retort, eyes meeting his steel grey gaze causing an unexpected chill to run down your spine.

“Are they?” he laughs, the warmth of it causing a sudden heat to rise within you, counteracting his gaze.

“You should remind your mother of that when you return Arya to her,” you offer, as he hands you the arrow that almost took off his head.

“Thank you for returning my sister, wolves have been prowling about, heaven forbid they got to her before us,” he says, concern etched in his face.

“The wolves have moved north, I do not believe they will return this way, and Arya is stronger than you give her credit for,” you assure, his brows raising at your competence.

“I know, and I think she does too, I fear she’ll outlive us all,” he offers, rubbing the back of his neck, the two of you standing there for a moment, the smirk that usually danced replaced by a nervous grin. His head dips down before turning back to the horse, but he stops one last time swivelling round to face you.

“My lady,” he calls after you.

“Yes my lord,” you say, turning back to face him.

“I look forward to our next meeting,” he offers sincerely.

“As do I,” you say curtseying in such a way to make him smile before you both head back towards your respective homes.

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

2 years later (age 19)

“What is it?” you ask your father as you lay down your quiver and the pair of small pheasants you’d brought home for dinner. He takes a long drag of his pipe, gaze glued to the treeline. “Father tell me?” you stress, knowing he only ever smoked when bad news had arrived.

“Illirion, he’s...” He stammers and drops his head letting out a strangled sob. You shake your head at the suggestion. Your brother had gone down to kings landing a week ago to serve as a bodyguard to Ned Stark who had been summoned at the behest of King Robert Baratheon. Arya and Sansa had gone with them, leaving Catelyn and the boys in Winterfell, Robb currently ruling in his place.

“Ned Stark would never allow…” you begin, sure your father had once again fallen trap to the rumour mill.

“He’s dead, they’re all dead, all of them...” he whispers, dropping his head to his hands.

“What happened tell me everything,” you stress, pushing your own sentiments aside for the moment.

“Beheaded, Ned for treason, for the murder of Robert Baratheon, his greatest friend, unlikely story. They killed your brother as Ned’s head fell. Arya, is missing, presumed dead, Sansa is a prisoner, to be wedded to that horrible snot nosed inbred Joffrey.” He continues in fragmented sentences.

“Mother?” you question.

“She’s in bed still, hasn’t left, I dare not tell her the worst of it,” he admits tear streaked eyes meeting yours.

“What the worst of it?” you ask, unable to think what could possibly be worse. “Lean on me father, there is no else left for you to confide in, lend me some of the burden,” you stress rubbing his arm in encouragement.

“War is upon us and each family must provide a soldier. Since my knee… I am no longer able to fight, the Starks know this. So your youngest brother…” he starts, but a sob catches in his throat stopping him.

“He can’t go, he’s too…” you begin, swallowing as you try to think of the right word.

“Soft” your father offers.

“No, he’s just not skilled enough, at least not in the ways of the sword. Skilled as he is as a mason he wouldn’t last a minute on the battlefield,” you pause, only one path was clear to you “Let me go in his place,” You say, before you have time to process what you had just offered to do.

“No,” your father says without hesitation.

“Let me go and you may end this life with two of three children. If he goes, I will be the only one left and I could not bear it,” you say pushing back tears at the thought of losing another brother.

“Your mother...” he begins

“Knows I was the best fighter. I had the best teacher in all the seven kingdoms after all,” you say nudging him with your elbow. He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, before pulling you into a tight embrace.

“When do I leave?” you ask.

“Tonight. It’s a good thing your brother isn’t tall, his armour will fit you, take this helmet. Do not remove it, keep your hood up, any trouble and cut off their cocks, or else I will.”

“I'll see you again, I swear it,” you state, with every intent of keeping your promise.

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

The battle rages forward, men fall around you, but you refuse to meet a similar fate today. Your sword penetrates through the opening of a Lannister’s armour turning quickly to slice the backs of the knees of another soldier, both falling in tandem. You hear a horse whinny on your left and you turn to see Robb Stark fall from his horse becoming trapped beneath the dying creature. You weave throughout the battle towards him. Your blade intercepts the longsword of an enemy soldier just as it’s about to penetrate Robbs armour. You drop your shield to Robb and you push up against the attacker. Releasing your force he falls forward and Robb pushes the shield up hitting the man’s face swinging his head back. Grabbing the man by his hair you slit his throat. You drop your sword and pull Robb out from beneath the horse. He grabs your shoulders giving you nod before returning to the forefront of the battle. As the horn of retreat sounds you celebrate the victory with those around you, surviving the first of many attacks.

You're walking back to the tents when you hear a familiar voice call out to you.

“You, wait,” Robb demands, chuckling with those around him. You continue on your path hoping he was talking to someone else. “It is not wise to disobey your king.” He sounds out again, forcing you to turn towards him.

“Come now friend, we mean no harm. I wish to look upon the face of the man who saved me and invite him to ride alongside me.” he states.

“Perhaps he is too ugly to show his face, my lord,” one of his lieutenants states causing a laugh to erupt from the surrounding crowd of men except for Robb. Though a slight smile pulls at the corner of his mouth breaking the cold façade he’d donned since his father’s death. A moment passes then another until the silence is so prolonged you have no other option but to obey. Slowly you lift your helmet up your eyes meeting his for the first time in a year.

“A prize for the army, my lord?” one of the men questions, hungrily eyeing you up as he fervently steps towards you. Robb's arm stops him in his tracks and you draw your blade.

“Touch me and risk losing more than just your hand, I have fought alongside you. I am your equal. You will treat me as such,” you demand, your voice unwavering despite the uneasiness in your stomach.

“You have a cunt, you are not our equal, though perhaps in bed…” another from the crowd offers.

“Stop! Leave us” Robb orders, and the men retreat back towards the camp ground the sound of laughter and whistles picking up once out of range.

“I did tell you rules were meant to be broken,” you say, watching as he tries to suppress a smile.

“Well they certainly have been now” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you going to hang me, my lord? Or is it my King now?” you question, a bolder move than you should have felt comfortable making.

“To you it's Robb and no I am not going to hang you, but you are going to come with me,” he says offering you his arm which you brush by looking back at him to follow.

“How have you come to be here? Does your father know?” Catelyn stresses,eyes growing wide as she scans over you assessing the damage.

“My lady, yes, he does. You see when the war was announced and after my brother’s death, we knew someone from our family would have to fight. My father’s leg as you know isn’t... as it used to be, and my younger brother while talented in many ways, cannot hold a blade to save his life. My mother’s grief was already far too much for her to lose another child.” You say, eyes risking tears as she meets her gaze.

“So they sent you?” she explains to herself.

“Yes my lady I was the best fighter in the family, or the most skilled at least.”

“Well, we will not make your brother come to fight, but you cannot stay in the army,” she explains softly, hand running up and down your arms in reassurance.

“She saved my life today,” Robb interjects and Cat looks at you as you look at him.

“Then I am indebted to you.” She expresses.

“As am I,” Robb states the two of you not having dropped eye contact, much to the notice of Cat.

“Lady Catelyn, I am a capable fighter, but if you will not allow me to so, at least allow me to tend to the wounded or to serve you in some other manner. I am here after all, put me to use.” you say and she lets out a sigh.

“Well, if you believe yourself able to defend yourself, and if what my son says is true then I would be remiss to send you home, though you will not sleep out with the rest of the army, you will stay with me.” she says.

“And during the battle you will remain close to me,” Robb stresses “not for your protection, but for mine”

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

1 year later (Age 20)

Robb watches as you kill another soldier, the sight never failing to impress him. You had remained close over the past year, both in and out of the battlefield. He kept you close at all costs, your company bringing him some semblance of joy, even in his darkest moments. Rumours swirled amongst the men and the other kingdoms, though nothing between the two of you had come to fruition. Due to the colour of your hair, the enemy soldiers had dubbed you the white wolf, in an attempt to link the Starks with the treacherous Targaryens. While the insinuations at your extracurricular activities with Robb pushed the narrative that he was impure, that northerners were savages, who did not abide by the values of the seven kingdoms.

As you wipe the blood from your eyes, an arrow catches you in the shoulder, the force knowing you back into a tree. Robb is at your side in record time, his hand stopping yours from pulling the weapon out.

“Medic!” he shouts, eyes not leaving yours.

“Go! you need to lead your people, I will be fine,” you emphasize and he shakes his head “Robb, it is a shoulder, nothing of importance lives there.”

“No but it is attached to something of the utmost importance.”

“Go you have a war to win,” you state as the medic helps you to your feet and brings you back across the line.

You sit in Robbs tent, despite your insistence at being treated in the same manner as the other soldiers, he had demanded you be brought there instead. A skilled nurse had removed the arrow from your shoulder just as you heard the rambunctious cheers of the men outside, victory had been secured. Unsurprising considering Robbs keen strategic mind, he was smarter than you'd have accredited him for in your youth. He enters the tent blood spatter still on his face, seeing you alive and fine he takes the moment to remove his armour. He pulls his undershirt off and walks to the water basin wiping himself clean of the sweat and grim coating his skin. Your eyes watch his bare skin intently, studying every scar, every freckle. He grabs a fresh cloth dunking it the basin and wringing it out before heading over to you. He kneels before you, staring up at you eyes telling you to drop the blood soaked rag currently held to your wound, and you oblige.

“I must confess I long hoped to share an intimate moment with you, though these circumstances are not as I imagined,” he says, gently dabbing at your wound, you smile at his concentration.

“And under what circumstances would you have hoped to be intimate with me, my king? At one of your fancy parties, in the secrecy of a barn, somewhere no one would know you had been with a Targaryen girl.” You ask trying to keep your eyes forwards and not at his muscular physique.

“Every man in Winterfell had dreamed of sharing a moment like that with you, though none have found any luck,” he says, standing up and walking back over to the basin.

“I have no need for a husband nor do I have the want to be wife,” you say, watching the muscles of his arm flex as he wrigns out the rag.

“and what about a queen?” he queries, as his hand braces against your thigh, continuing to clean your wound, his eyes still focused on the gash.

“Do you ask all your foot soldiers such bold questions,” you quip, laughing at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

“Only the ones naked in my chambers,” he retorts, eyes darting up a grin plastered to his face.

“A bare shoulder is hardly naked in your chambers,” you state, and he raises his eyebrows mischievously.

“My fondness for you was never allowed,” he admits, dabbing the cloth into a salve and applying it to the wound.

“Oh wasn’t it,” you ask as he looks up to you

“No, my mother feared one of us would ruin you,”

“A Targaryen In the north, perhaps it was fear of you boys being ruined.” you laugh, but when you look at him the tone has shifted.

‘When that arrow hit you, my feelings were confirmed, I no longer wish to be more than a few feet from you at any given moment. I wish to marry you. If you'll allow me”

“Don’t be stupid my king, you’re to be married to a princess from what I understand.”

“I'll be married to whom I please” he assures.

“Robb is that wise?” you question, unfamiliar with the high stakes games played with marriage.

“The Frey’s will recover besides, we’ve crossed their bridge already, and I have no love for anyone but you.”

“Love? We barely know each other,” you say.

“Only our whole lives,” he reminds you.

“I fear you’ll wake up tomorrow and regret your words, so I will not answer you tonight.”

“Then I will return to these chambers tomorrow morning and restate my intentions to make you my wife.”

“What will they say if you allow me to take your bed for the night?” you ponder aloud.

“I guess we shall see” he states, slinging his bloodied shirt over his shoulder.

“Goodnight my King” you offer, watching in amusement as he attempts to find the tents exit without turning around.

“It’s Robb. For you, it's always just Robb”

True to his word he returned the next day and asked again, and this time you accepted. You married a few days later under an old willow tree, with Catelyn and a few others standing witness. The morning after your wedding you awake in his chambers, the sun yet to rise. Robb snores faintly beneath you, the warmth of the fire sending a chill up your skin that had become exposed in the night. You scan over his features, a peacefulness you hadn’t before on his face. You reach over brushing the white patch of hair amongst the mass of soft brown curls on his head. As you do his eyes open looking over to you propping himself up on his elbow and learning over to kiss your forehead.

“What is it my love?” you ask, kissing his cheek, then his lips .

“I need you to do something,” he says, serious as always.

“What we just did wasn't enough, my king? How else may I please you tonight,” you offer hands dancing across his chest, he grins shaking his head slightly.

“You have pleased me in every way imaginable for the past year, and even more tonight. This favour isn't a pleasure of the flesh however, I need you to complete a task. You’re the only one I can trust,” he states.

“You shift up to face him, the furs falling off you slightly, “find the Targaryen girl. I wish to make an ally of her, to destroy the Lannister once and for all. You are likely the only family she has left, she may listen to you.”

“I'll do what I can, and I'll do it fast, I do not wish to be parted from you for long.” you admit as his hand traces over your back.

“Take this with you, that way i'll be protecting you even while we are apart,” he leans over grabbing his dagger, the one made for him by his father, offering it to you.

“Robb I…” you begin.

“Will return it to me a fortnight from now when you come back. I suggest we make the most of tonight, so you have another reason to return to me,” he states

“I'll always return to you, even in death,” you reassure and he wraps the blanket back over you pulling you tightly to his chest. And so as Robb took his seat in the halls of Walder Frey to watch his supposed bride marry another man, you were catching a boat destined for Dorne.

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

Present day (Age 21)

“Come with me now Lady Stark, your life depends on it,” the stranger says, pulling you to your feet and shuffling you into a nearby tavern ushering you quickly up the stairs. You see a pile of clothes laid out on the bed and immediately strip, all notions of decency erased in favour of time.

“You must disappear, make them think you are dead,” he says, averting his eyes as you change into clothes typical of local mercenaries.

“Who killed him, what happened?” you ask, needing some kind of answers.

“There is no time, and it's safer if you do not know.” He says eyes darting from you to the door.

“I have a right to..”

“The Freys betrayed you, everyone at the wedding is dead, you have no claim to Winterfell. The Lannisters have taken the North”

“Everyone at the wedding..” you echo, sitting on the bed

“Stay here..” the blue bearded stranger says, returning a few moments later with a cloak, sword and black dye in hand, placing them down and grabbing for the clothes and the dagger on the floor, Robbs dagger.

“That stays” you stress grabbingthe dagger from his reach.

“It’s too…” he starts

“It stays, it's all I have left of him,” you whisper harsher than intended, fighting back tears. He nods and you take it from him. You grab the dye from his hand and rub it through your hair, staining it a deep ember.

“Keep your eyes down, they're the only thing we can’t disguise,” he states

“Who are you, why are you helping me?” you question memorizing the man's face.

“You share a common enemy with powerful people. You have allies here. Goodbye Lady Stark I hope we meet again,” he says, and with a swift turn he exits the tavern leaving you alone with your thoughts. You wait a moment before donning the cloak and pulling up your hood. You walk out the tavern, putting as much distance between you and the docks as possible. Keeping your eyes down as men scoured the streets for the person you once were

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Daring - Chapter 3

This is the last chapter for Daring! If you haven't, read part one and two first 💛 This is just a very fluffy chapter with vanilla smut at the end (with love for all of you who got whiplash from my last fic).

CW for alcohol consumption, language, talk of loss/trauma, sex and SPOILER WARNING for Guillermo del Toro's The Shape of Water. I will spoil the ending for the movie here so if you want to watch it first and haven't yet, now's the time! Honestly, it's an amazing movie and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so lmk if you have ~thoughts~

Chapter 3 - Home

The days until Thursday went just as excruciatingly slow as the days before your first date had. The only difference was that now you knew what to expect. Or did you? You knew she liked you, too. Wanted you, too. She had told you every night on the phone. Every day after you finished at work you waited patiently for Abby to get off her shift, too. She was on day shifts at the moment, usually from 6 am to 4 pm, but more often than not it took a few hours longer.

Abby was very kind with her patients, often taking people back home from the hospital or helping them get accommodated in their hospital rooms. It cost her a lot of time, but when she told you how grateful they all were you could hear how much she cared.

“I’m telling you Y/N, she actually cried in my arms. This poor old lady, I think she must have been over 80. She could barely raise her arms to put on the gown, the fall had stunned her pretty bad.”

You and Abby were cooking on FaceTime, or rather you were pouring yourself some cereal and Abby was making pasta with fresh tomatoes and herbs. You wished you were there.

“I hope she recovers fast,” you said, pouring in the milk. “It must be awful, being away from home in that state.”

“Yeah,” Abby sighed, “but she luckily didn’t break anything. It’s horrible though, the way elderly people bruise. She is going to have every single step of those stairs visible on her torso for at least a week.”

You took your phone and bowl, using your elbow to open the door to your room. Leah winked at you from the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth and water dripping from her hair. She was going out with Nora and Jordan, seeing some action movie.

“You’re incredible for taking the time to help her. Did she really have no one else?”

Abby sprinkled some basil into her pasta sauce.

“I don’t think so. She was pretty confused, but she said her daughter lives in New York and she didn’t want me to call her. I’m gonna check on her tomorrow when I have a minute between calls.”

“Oh speaking of…” You leaned back against your headboard and propped up your phone against your thigh, staring into your bowl. “Are we still on tomorrow?”

Abby laughed quietly.

“Baby, I’ve been counting the hours. I can’t wait.” You felt a pull in your stomach at the name. She had never called you baby before. Looking at her, you could see she was trying to hide her nervousness. You smiled at her.

“When can I come over?”

“I hope I get off at 5 and they don’t rope me into an emergency in the last minute of my shift. I’ll just call you as soon as I head out and you can come over straight away. I’ll buy all the groceries we need tonight.”

“Hey, I can -” you protested, but Abby cut you off.

“No, you just grace me with your presence, that’s enough. You don’t know the exact ingredients anyway.”

You smiled and finished your cereal. You couldn’t wait.

-

Abby called you at 6 pm, still sitting in the passenger seat of the ambulance.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t call sooner.” Little strands of hair had fallen out of her braid and framed her face, some of them looking damp with sweat. There was a flush on her face and dark circles loomed under her eyes. You felt just a little bit guilty, having stayed up with her on facetime until after midnight the night before.

“Don’t worry, I’m not the one working extra hours. How was your shift?”

“Honestly? Terrible.” You knew Abby was not one to complain, so that really had to mean something. You saw her sway in the seat as the ambulance pulled into the garage and finally came to a halt. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay? I’ll be home in half an hour, so just come over whenever you want. I’ll leave the front door unlocked in case I’m still in the shower.”

A prickle went over your skin at the thought, but you quickly pushed it away. Abby was obviously exhausted, this was not the time to imagine her and you in a shower.

“Are you sure you really want to cook? We could just order takeout and call it a night.”

Abby considered it for a moment. It had to have been the worst day. She quickly spoke to the person next to her in the driver’s seat, then you heard the car door being shut. Abby looked back at you.

“Abby. Let me take care of you.” Your voice was soft. You wished you could brush the loose strands of hair behind her ear. The blonde sighed and unfastened her seatbelt.

“Just come over, okay? We can decide then. I just want you with me.”

You jumped up and grabbed the bag you had already prepared for sleeping over, a bottle of Merlot on top of your clothes.

“I’m on my way. I can’t wait to see you,” you said as you struggled to put on your shoes with one hand.

“See you soon,” Abby smiled and ended the call.

You called out a goodbye to Leah and she yelled back “Go get her!” Smiling to yourself, you closed the door behind you and rushed to the train station.

Sitting in the uncomfortable plastic seat of the train, you couldn’t help but grow more and more nervous, just like the last time. But this time was different, you reminded yourself. This time you could make your way straight into Abby’s arms, straight to her lips. You secretly checked your breath in your hand. The train arrived both too quickly and not fast enough.

After knocking at the front door twice without any answer, you made your way inside the house. Abby had told you to just come in, but you felt like an intruder nonetheless. Where could you wait without taking up space that wasn’t hers?  You didn’t want to be sitting there like a movie villain when she came down. You called out but there was no answer, only the bass of a rock song playing upstairs and the sound of water rushing through pipes in the wall.

Deciding to make your presence as visible as possible, you dropped your bag on the stairs and took the bottle of the wine to the kitchen. Abby’s heavy paramedic jacket was thrown over a chair and her keys were on the table. An empty glass was standing next to them, water droplets running down on the outside and leaving a wet ring on the wooden surface. You picked it up and placed it in the sink, drying the spot with a tea towel. Then you took out two wine glasses from the cupboard you had put them into after cleaning up the last time and put them on the counter. You leaned against it, wondering what you should do now.

Thankfully, you heard the water shut off upstairs and a few seconds later there was the soft thump of naked heels on tile floor. You decided just to wait until Abby came down. It only took two minutes, then you heard her on the stairs. She slowed when she reached the bottom, probably noticing your bag.

“Y/N?” Her voice was light, but there was excitement in it, carefully restrained.

“I’m in the kitchen!” You suddenly didn’t know what to do with your hands and reached for the bottle, then realized you didn’t have an opener and you probably wouldn’t be able to use one either. You let your arms drop to your side and Abby entered the kitchen, stopping a few steps from you.

She looked beautiful. She was wearing a light grey cutoff shirt and dark navy sweatpants. Her hair was still wet and hung loosely over her shoulders, darkening the cotton where it touched the fabric. Her face was still tired and her shoulders slumped slightly, but her eyes had lit up at the sight of you.

“You’re here!” She held out her hands, still not moving from her spot.

You closed the distance and threw your arms around her, burying your face in her neck.

“I’m here,” you mumbled and Abby’s arms closed around you, encasing you completely. She smelled wonderful, moisture still evaporating from her skin and warmth spreading from her body to yours where you touched. Your excitement didn’t falter, but your nervousness did. A wave of calm came over you. You were here.

“I’m sorry your day was so terrible,” you murmured, lips brushing the skin of Abby’s throat just above the neckline of her shirt. “Wanna spend the rest of it on the couch?”

Her upper body fell forward into you and her forehead came to rest on your shoulder. She nodded and you gave her waist a gentle squeeze before drawing back, resting your foreheads together and cradling her cheek with your hand.

“Come on, then. Let’s order you some food. I brought wine as well if you want some.”

Abby sighed.

“I’d love some.”

You wanted to step aside and take the glasses to the living room but Abby’s arms around you tightened and the corner of her mouth lifted.

“You’re an angel,” she whispered. And then she kissed you.

It was sweet, gentle, and tired, her lips soft and warm. You melted into her, both of you clinging to each other for a moment until Abby pulled away smiling. She took the bottle of wine and rummaged through a drawer for the opener. You held the glasses and watched her open the bottle, brows knit together and her tongue peeking out between her lips. It was both adorable and incredibly hot. You sat down on the large sofa together and Abby poured both of you a generous amount, then you clinked glasses and the blonde stole another kiss.

“Alright,” you unlocked your phone, “what are you craving?”

Abby gave you an amused look before she let her head fall back on the sofa cushion and thought for a second.

“Do you like Mexican food? Burritos?”

“Love it,” you said, searching for the closest restaurant and checking their website for delivery service. Abby just hummed in approval when she saw which one you had picked out. You placed the order together, Abby’s right hand never releasing yours as she clumsily used her left to pick her food. When the order was sent, you threw your phone to the foot of the sofa.

“So,” you said, turning to your side in order to get a better look at the blonde. “Wanna tell me about work?”

Abby sighed and opened her arm for you to crawl into. You gladly scooted closer, resting your head on her shoulder and throwing an arm over her stomach. When she spoke, you could feel the thrum of her voice in her chest.

“I went in early to check on the old lady who fell yesterday and found out she’d fallen again last night. She hadn’t told anyone because she was embarrassed, but I could tell something was wrong. Turns out her arm was broken in three places. I had them call her daughter even though she begged me not to bother her. I don’t know what her daughter is like, but I hope she takes care of her.”

You hummed and pushed yourself even closer to Abby’s side.

“After that, we had a call because of a domestic violence case. The police were there already, it was horrible.”

She rubbed a hand over her face and you pressed a kiss to her collarbone.

“After that, we had to go straight to another family dispute that ended in someone being stabbed with a steak knife. We got them to the hospital fast enough and it all went well in the end but I just hate cases that revolve around psychological trauma as well. All those family issues… I hate it.”

You could only imagine how horrible this must be for her after what had happened to her dad. Though you still didn’t know the whole story and you could probably find out easily by googling her name, you didn’t want to feel like an intruder in her past. She would tell you when she was ready.

“I’m glad you’re telling me about it,” you said, trying to sound firm and gentle at the same time.

Abby let out a little huff that sounded slightly surprised.

“Yeah, I don’t usually do that. Normally I would have just shoved all that into the back of my mind and tried to make this evening go perfect. Not that I don’t want to put in the effort with you-”

“I know,” you interrupted her, raising your head to smile at her, noses brushing against each other. “I think this is perfect. You are.”

You moved in for a kiss and Abby placed a hand on the back of your head, holding you gently as your lips touched. She deepened the kiss soon, breath going a little faster as her arms pulled you even closer. You threw your leg over her thigh, half on top of her now. Her tongue was smooth and hot against yours and when her teeth scraped over your bottom lip, you let out a whimper that she caught in another kiss. Feeling bold, you finally moved on top of Abby, straddling her thigh and placing your hands left and right of her flushed face. You rolled your hips forward and she made a guttural sound, low and hungry.

Her hands were all over you, pressing between your shoulder blades, wrapping around your waist, grabbing your hips to make you grind forward again, then finally cupping your ass and digging her fingers into the muscle. You stopped trying to keep yourself from panting and leaned forward to kiss Abby’s jaw, then the soft spot beneath her earlobe. She drew up her leg behind you, pressing her thigh between your legs, and you whimpered into her ear.

“Abby,” you whispered, “what are you doing to me?”

“Anything you want,” she murmured against your cheek, “anything, baby.”

You could hear your pulse drumming in your ears as you kissed the blonde fiercely, then moved your lips over that chiseled jaw again before biting the delicate skin of her throat. You dragged your tongue over her pulse point, actually feeling the beat of her heart fluttering against your sensitive nerve endings. She smelled intoxicating, warm, and earthy, and it made you want to take her in completely, to drown in her and never come to the surface again.

Her hands were on your hips again, guiding them against hers as she let out another low moan, lips parted and pupils blown as she looked at you with a mixture of amazement and pure, burning desire. You let your hands wander down her torso, trailing your fingers along the hem of her shirt and slipping them underneath. Abby’s skin was radiating heat, her stomach flexing beneath your touch.

“May I?” You asked, your voice breathless. Abby just nodded, lifting her arms over her head and arching her back so you could push the fabric up, revealing her broad frame, toned abs, and a black sports bra. You threw the shirt to the side and fell back onto her, your chests pressing together as you enveloped her in another heated kiss. You ground down against her thigh, the seam of your jeans pressing against all the right places. Abby’s hands were on your back again, broad and warm and reassuring.

You stayed like that for a while, melting into each other, catching the other’s breath, and trying to move in ways that would get the other to moan even though you were both still shy and careful about making noise. Abby twisted her pelvis ever so slightly so you could keep riding her thigh and hit her hipbone at the front of every movement. You responded by pulling her damp hair and making her hiss before she pulled you in and kissed you fiercely.

“God, Abby…” Heat was pooling at the bottom of your stomach and there was a sudden, almost painful sensitivity to your core. Pleasure had sneaked up on you without you noticing, completely surprising you with its intensity as Abby rolled her hips upward and you had no choice but to cry out. There was a hunger in her eyes, a triumphant glint and she held your face gently with one hand while the other was tight around your hip, guiding your movements against her and pressing into your flesh.

“Fuck, Abby, fuck, I’m so -” She swallowed your whimpers with another searing kiss, her tongue pressing into your mouth and her thumb stroking your cheek.

“Come on, baby, you’re so good, so beautiful, baby,” Abby mumbled against your lips, followed by more sweet compliments and hot kisses, her eyes always on yours. You found the perfect angle at last and dug your fingers into her shoulder, your moans going high and fast as you pressed your forehead to hers. She placed a last gentle kiss on your lips and you came undone on top of her. Her hands caught you easily, stroking you through your high, her lips caressing every inch of your face. Her skin was warm beneath you and slightly sweaty. You licked a small stripe up the side of her throat and kissed her jaw.

Abby pulled back just an inch to get a better look at your face, running her hands through your hair and over your cheeks, then down your shoulders and coming to rest around your waist.

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known,” she said quietly and with a blissful smile. “An angel.”

Her gaze was so piercing, so raw and knowing that you suddenly had the urge to bury your face in your hands, to hide from this infinite feeling inside of you that you could see in Abby’s eyes as well. You forced yourself to hold her gaze and reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face.

“I’ve never… this has never happened to me before,” you confessed softly. “You are doing things to me I never even dreamed of.”

Abby chuckled at that and caught your hand, kissing every knuckle and then the inside of your palm.

“We fit well, don’t we?” It was cautious, a step forward with no weight on it yet, a hand on a door handle.

“We do.” You grinned at her, and maybe it was the rush of the high that still hadn’t faded or a rare wave of courage, but you decided to rip open that door from the other side. You sat up and placed a hand on her sternum, feeling her heart thrum beneath your palm.

“Abby, I want to be with you. I’ve wanted to for a long time. You don’t have to have an answer right now, but just know that I’m already yours, no matter what.”

For a moment, Abby didn’t seem to fully comprehend. Then she frowned, the smile not fully leaving her lips but turning bittersweet. You felt your stomach drop. Had you spoken too soon?

“Y/N.” Abby’s hand covered yours on her chest. “I’d love nothing more.” A weight fell off your shoulders. Abby wasn’t done talking yet.

“I’m a difficult person to… be with. I’ve really put in all I had with you so far, but there are times when I will be cold and closed off and I won’t be able to let you in, to let anyone in. I don’t know if I could hurt you like that.” She squeezed your hand now, her eyes glossy. “I’m not saying this because I’m scared or unsure, I’m saying this to give you an out. Or at least some more time to really get to know what it’s like with me in your life. I can be exhausting. At least that’s what I’m told.”

You felt something hot flare up in your throat. That was not fair.

“Who told you that?”

“Owen. I mean, he’s the only person who knows what it’s like being with me and he certainly didn’t like it very much.” Even with her broad shoulders, her set jaw, all her muscles, she looked strangely small now. You felt like you were going to burst with rage.

“Abby, do you honestly think an ex’s opinion of you counts? To me? I don’t give a shit what Owen thinks because I’m not him and this is not the same thing. I get to decide what it’s like and so far it’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” You placed both your hands on her cheeks and leaned forward. “Babe, stop trying to deny yourself happiness. You deserve to be happy. And if I make you happy, if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Abby sat up straight, her face now directly in front of yours, and wrapped her arms around you tightly. She blinked the tears away, a smile beginning to tug on her lips.

“You’re mine?”

“Only yours.”

She kissed you and you could feel her grin against your mouth, smooth teeth softly clicking against yours.

“Mine,” she mumbled and began trailing kisses down your throat, hands now wandering down your back and under your t-shirt where they immediately provoked goosebumps to spread over your entire body. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Both of you pulled back with surprised faces.

“The food!” you realized and you had to laugh as you scrambled to get up from the couch. You had almost forgotten how hungry you were. Abby quickly pulled on her shirt, grabbed her wallet, and opened the door, hair wild and her lips still red and swollen. You hovered in the background, probably looking just as disheveled, and tried not to giggle like an idiot.

The delivery guy took one look at you and just gave Abby an amused smirk as he handed her the food. She tipped him generously and thanked him before closing the door and turning to you, both of you frozen in your spots for a second. Then you both burst out in laughter. Abby was next to you in three strides and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before you let yourself flop down on the sofa together. Abby had ordered two large burritos, you had chosen a vegetarian taco bowl and a big bag of tortilla chips with salsa and guacamole. While you unpacked all the food and laid it out on the coffee table, Abby turned on the TV and scrolled through the movie options.

After some looking around, you decided to watch The Shape of Water, which you hadn’t seen yet despite being a big Guillermo del Toro fan. You ate in silence, letting the film pull you into a cold war era story of a mute woman, her gay best friend, and a strange fish-human being in the facility she was a cleaner at. You generally avoided watching more artistic, less Hollywood-typical movies with other people in fear of them constantly ridiculing the story to hide their own discomfort with monsters, but Abby was just as immersed in the story as you were. Sally Hawkins was a fantastic actress and the amphibian man was beautifully designed and a fascinating character. Del Toro’s handwriting was all over the film - beautiful colors and cinematography, fairytale monsters next to very human, real-life ones, the fear of the Other and the idea that maybe if one just dares to look beyond, the Other may have a story to tell and love to give.

When you had finished your food, you snuggled up to Abby, occasionally feeding her chips with guacamole and kissing the salt from her lips. During the final scenes when the shooting happened, Abby tensed up next to you. You hadn’t even thought about movies possibly triggering her or making her uncomfortable. Fuck, you should have looked it up beforehand. Now all you could do was press your temple to her collarbone and wrap your arms around her as tightly as possible.

“Do you want to turn it off?” You mumbled, your thumb drawing circles on her ribcage. You could feel Abby shake her head.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now. The movie is almost over anyway.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled you close. The ending was beautiful and heart-wrenching and you shed a few tears, staining Abby’s shirt. She just smiled and kissed the tears from your cheeks.

“Did you like it?” You asked tentatively, not sure if the shooting may have ruined it for Abby.

“I loved it.” Her expression was warm. “That scene in which she talks about the way he sees her without any of her flaws, just her, and how her fight for his life is what makes her human was beautiful.”

“And then in the end she wasn’t human after all,” you added, “I’ve never really seen it that way around. Usually, the beast turns into a prince at the end. I always hate that. Why can’t the monster stay a monster after having proven their love and their honor and whatever else is needed to redeem them, you know?”

Abby thought about that for a moment, her eyes going unfocused.

“That’s true. In so many stories, all the things that make the monster monstrous are stripped away as soon as they have proven their worth and found true love. It doesn’t work like that in real life. We all have things inside that could deem us monsters and it’s only when we hope to have found love that we can dare to reveal them and hope the other person loves us anyway.”

Something warm spread inside you, reaching out to every corner of your body, every toe and every fingertip. You leaned in and kissed her gently.

“The silver plate.”

Abby looked confused for a second, then she remembered the things she had said during your last date.

“Yeah, my own monstrous silver plate.” She smiled. “Scared?”

“Not at all,” you grinned and climbed on top of her. “I’ll devour you.”

You pressed your lips to hers her and it quickly turned into another heated makeout session. Your limbs were tangled together and her hands roamed your body as you kissed her neck and when she finally asked: “can I?” you almost knocked your head against her jaw trying to sit up so she could take off your shirt.

Sitting up on her hips, you dragged your nail from her ear to the hem of her shirt, scratching the skin and making her hiss, eyes burning.

“Want to show me your bedroom?” you asked, trying not to lose your focus at the feeling of her hands wandering up your thighs. You yelped as Abby sat and stood up in one swift motion, arms secure around your waist and thighs so you’d stay pressed to her chest. You wrapped your legs around her and laughed into her mouth before she kissed you again.

The tall blonde carried you up the stairs like it was nothing, making soft noises when you bit into the soft skin just below her jaw.

“Y/N…” She kicked open a door and didn’t give you any time to look around, crawling on the bed and trapping you under her large body, attacking you with kisses, all teeth and tongue. It was glorious.

You pulled on Abby’s shirt until she grunted and took it off herself, then her hands were trailing the skin above the waistband of your jeans. More, more, more.

“Can I take those off?” Abby asked, sitting back on her knees between your legs.

“Please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips for better access, but Abby had other plans. She let her hands wander over your upper body, her fingers teasing your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette, then softly tickling your stomach on their way down. Finally, she opened the button of your jeans and slowly opened the zipper, her eyes flickering up to your face and back down to her hands.

“Come ooon,” you begged, “please, Abby.”

There was the hint of a smirk on her lips, but she complied and pulled off your jeans, both of you laughing as they caught around your ankles and Abby had to wrestle them off. Then Abby’s hand was on your foot and she held it in place on her shoulder, slowly kissing her way up your leg. Your breath got faster with every inch she came closer to your heated center, that place that had gotten a taste of what was to come and wanted more. She dragged her lips over your clothed core and your legs trembled, a gasp escaping you.

Abby took her time with you, kissing your stomach and chest before taking off your bralette and teasing your nipples with a gentle tongue and fluttering fingers. You were squirming beneath her, a mess of pleasure and want for more, begging her to touch you. Finally, she sat back up and hooked her fingers under the waistband of your panties, keeping eye contact and pulling them down slowly. Her gaze was burning, pupils wide, lips hanging open and breath going in shallow pants.

Her tongue was heaven, it was heat and silk and everything at once, enveloping you in waves of ecstasy and making you moan and bury your hands in her hair. She was gentle, cleaning up the mess you had made earlier and the one just now, broad tongue and small circles sending your hips up to meet her, her fingers around your thighs too far away.

“Abby, please…” you gasped and she looked up to meet your gaze. You melted inside.

“What do you want, baby?” Her voice was deep and husked, lips shining with your juices.

“Your fingers.” You gave her hand a light push downward and with a smile, she complied.

If you had thought you had already reached the pinnacle of pleasure, the best there was, you had been oh so wrong. Abby’s fingers were magical, teasing you and filling you up, stroking against that tender spot inside you, then slowing down as her tongue made you see stars, complying when you begged her for more, faster, harder. Your legs hadn’t stopped shaking in what felt like forever, your fingers were cramped into Abby’s beautiful blonde mane and you were crying out her name over and over again as she brought you to your peak, guiding you through it and moaning along with you as your juices covered her fingers and her tongue.

When she finally crawled back up to meet you, her arms were shaking slightly and her face was flushed. You still felt like you were somewhere far away, but her smile pulled you back to the present. She kissed you, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. Slowly, you let your hand wander down and play with the seam of her sweatpants and the hem of her boxers peeking out underneath.

“Wanna take these off?” you mumbled in her ear and you could see she was trying to keep her composure as she tried to get out of her pants as fast as possible before coming back to you. She stopped and looked unsure suddenly.

“Is it okay if I keep these on for now?” She gestured to her sports bra and underwear.

“Of course, baby. Can I touch you?” You whispered, one hand on the back of her neck as the other wandered lower. Abby nodded and kissed you again.

“Yes, please,” she whispered back. You slid your hand into her boxers and were greeted by wet heat, desire practically pooling in your palm. Both of you gasped at the same time, eyes flying open to meet each other’s, bodies grinding together.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet,” you cooed and watched Abby dissolve in front of you, blood shooting into her cheeks before she buried her face in your neck and began leaving lovebites on your throat. You dragged your fingers between her folds, relishing in the tiny noises she made whenever you touched her clit or came near her entrance.

You put all your strength into throwing Abby to the side and rolling on top of her, hand never leaving her center. She laughed in surprise and grabbed the back of your neck to pull you in, and at that moment you slid a finger inside her. Her eyes went wide and the noise she made would visit your dreams for the rest of your days. You kept your lips wandering over her throat and back to her lips, pulling moan after moan from her with your fingers, gently pushing inside her and curling upward, your thumb drawing circles on her clit. After a while, you could see her abs flexing as her core convulsed rhythmically, her moans getting higher and breathless, her fingers digging into your waist.

“Will you come for me, Abby?” you whispered and kissed her again. Her hips bucked up into your hand and she made a strangled noise, then her legs clamped together around your fingers and she sighed, tongue darting out to brush against yours as you slowly pulled your hand from her sensitive core.

You threw your thigh over her hips and pressed your face into the crook of her neck, giving her time to breathe as you drew patterns on her bare stomach with your fingers.

“Baby…” she mumbled above you, voice vibrating through her chest. “That was… I don’t even have words.”

You grinned up at her and she brushed your hair behind your ear. Her gaze was full of love and adoration, like sunlight warming your skin, soft fingertips caressing your cheeks.

“I’ve never felt so safe,” you said, resting your head on her shoulder so you could look at her. “You’re so careful.”

Abby smiled and followed the path of your fingers with her eyes.

“I’ve had other experiences in the past that made me realize how important it is to always check on your partner.” She looked down at her clothed hips. “Thank you for… not making this weird. I’m just… one step at a time.”

“Of course, baby.” You moved your lips closer to her ear. “I think it’s really fucking hot, you between my legs in those boxers, all muscles and freckles. But then when I touch you, you’re so needy, just a wet mess, coming on my fingers in your underwear.”

Abby let out a shaky breath, chest trembling at your words. She laced her fingers between yours and pressed them to her sternum.

“You leave me speechless every time,” she said, voice quiet and content.

“I love it.” You pulled the blanket up with your foot and covered both of your bodies up to your hips, yawning into her shoulder. Abby chuckled quietly.

“Do you need to set an alarm for tomorrow?” She reached over to the bedside table, then let her arm drop. “Our phones are still downstairs.”

You groaned and rolled onto your back before blinking up at Abby innocently, hoping she would go and get them. She just laughed and got up, stretching her arms and making the muscles on her back dance beautifully.

“You need to go pee,” she said with raised eyebrows. You sighed and lazily rolled out of bed, pulling the blanket up around you.

Abby showed you the bathroom across the hall and made her way down the stairs, a bounce in her step. You could hear her clean up the takeout containers and throw away the trash in the kitchen. Suddenly there was a noise outside, a deep voice and the jingle of keys at the door. You froze with the towel in your hands. The front door opened and Manny tried to stay quiet in that completely ineffective way most men do, dropping his shoes with loud thumps and whispering into his phone so loudly you could hear every word.

“Hi, Manny,” Abby said in the hallway. Keys dropped to the floor with a clunk.

“Dios mio! What the hell are you doing sneaking around here, Abby? You just get back from the gym?” You could hear her laugh quietly as he tried to catch his breath.

“I could ask you the same. Weren’t you supposed to come back tomorrow?”

You snuck back into her bedroom on tiptoes, wrapping the blanket around you tightly and staying near the door to hear the conversation downstairs.

“Had to go early, my dad had a hot date tonight.” You could actually hear his grin.

“Yeah, well, me too.” Abby’s voice was dry, but you could tell she wasn’t actually annoyed.

“Really? Y/N? How'd it go?” A pause, then another loud whisper - “holy shit, she still here?

“Y/N, Manny’s home!” Abby’s raised voice rang through the house. You grinned. She knew you were listening.

“Hi, Manny!” You looked around for any clothes you could throw on quickly but came up empty. Sighing, you checked your blanket placement and went to the top of the stairs, looking down at Manny and Abby in the entrance hall.

Abby was still just in her sports bra and boxer shorts but didn’t seem to mind at all. Manny wore sweatpants and a green sweater, along with a hat that said women want me, fish fear me. Behind him were two large bags, one of them clearly full of fishing equipment. His smile lit the room.

“Hi Y/N, nice seeing you here. You two have a good night?”

You nodded and he made a knowing ah-ha sound. Abby elbowed him and red spots formed on her neck.

“Well, I’m gonna eat something and pass out. Breakfast tomorrow?” He threw a hopeful look in Abby’s direction. “When does your shift start?”

“Noon, I get late shift for the next two weeks. Y/N, what about you?” Both of them looked up at you and you shifted your weight, very aware of the way you looked right now.

“I just need to study, I can sleep in for once.”

Abby nodded and patted Manny’s shoulder.

“Breakfast at 10.”

She came up the stairs, taking two steps at a time and grinning from ear to ear. Manny vanished into the kitchen, continuing to scream-whisper into his phone. You made out the words “finally… girl is here” before Abby simply picked you up and carried you back to bed, kicking the door closed behind her.

You snuggled up together and Abby stroked your hair while she told you about her friendship with Manny and how glad she was to have him. He had been there for her through everything and he had wanted her to make a move and ask you out for weeks. You felt yourself drift away slowly.

“I’m so glad I’m here,” you mumbled, hand stroking Abby’s chest.

“Me too, baby. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine.” The bliss in her voice was the same you felt in your heart.

“Finally.” You craned your neck for a last kiss and melted beneath Abby’s soft lips and warm hands.

She held you wrapped tightly in her arms, almost as if she was scared you could vanish in the night. As if you'd ever leave her now. The last thing you thought before falling asleep was that you were finally home.

-

Author's note: Have you seen The Shape of Water? Did you like it? Let me know here 💌 If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here 🤎

[anauthore]

If the Rumours are True... (Kenny McCormick x Reader) {SERIES | Three}

Summary: The party at Wendy’s is more of a romp than you’re used to. The aftermath, also, is equally as unexpected.

Pairing: Kenny McCormick x Reader (she/her pronouns) - South Park

CW: implied sexual content / implied sexual content while intoxicated

NOTE: Every part of this series can be read as stand-alone, or as part of the series itself! If you don’t want to read each part on Tumblr, feel free to check out links to the work on the below websites:

Wattpad | Quotev | AO3

Fic Below the Cut | Previous Part | Next Part

South Park High, a school just as brutal (if not more) than any other high school peppered across the United States. There were cliques, clubs, boys, girls, and anything else you could imagine roaming the halls, ready to pounce.

You were luckier than most; you didn’t stand out at all. Sure, you had a small group of friends equally as normal as you, and sure, you turned in all of your assignments like a “goody-two-shoes”, but you blended in like camouflage in the forest.

At least, you did.

Your life has always been in the process of falling apart. You were used to the constant yelling and belittling of yourself, mostly from your parents. If anything, you’d used school- as hectic as it was- as an escape from all the shit in your day-to-day. You’d walk in, get noticed by no one, and stand in the corner, sit in your chair, get your work done, and leave. That’s how it’s always been, and the silence you’d brought along with you was always welcomed.

Today was different. Hell, last week was different. You weren’t one to go out and party, yet you took up the opportunity nearly as soon as it had fallen into your lap. You also didn’t ask for handouts or sleep in a stranger’s home, but when it was offered to you, you didn’t refuse. How could you? You needed help- Right?

You pushed open the double doors and breathed in the warmth from the heating system. You half-stomped, half-walked inside the building, getting extra snow from your boots before you found your usual waiting place; right around the corner of your class, conveniently in the front of the building just down the hall. You leant against the painted brick walls, trying to get your phone to connect to the school’s wifi before you gave up out of frustration- you understood why only teachers were allowed to connect, but that didn’t mean it didn’t piss you off some when you couldn't listen to music before class.

You took out your earbuds and wrapped the wire around your phone, shoving it into your pocket. You looked up just in time to make very brief eye contact with someone passing in the hall, and they snickered. Your brows furrowed, and you watched them slow down and whisper something to their partner before they pointed a thumb back in your direction. 

...What?

What could they possibly be talking about?

You didn’t do anything that would warrant gossip. You scoffed to yourself before a sinister thought crossed your mind: What did you do at the party? 

Anxiety built up in your chest as you racked your brain for any clue of something embarrassing you might’ve done. You just drank! You remembered playing beer pong, you remembered being really bad at it, but no instance of you completely embarrassing yourself came to mind.

You tapped your foot, waiting for the bell to ring and save you by ushering you and others to class. You wanted nothing more than to surround yourself in papers, work, and the silence that you’d grown to know as a friend, but you couldn’t. You, for the first time in a very long time, didn’t feel safe in the High School.

* * *

You sat in your seat- back corner, half-hidden by a structural mistake in the room that was a protruding wall. You leaned your head against your palm, leg bouncing as you tried not to stare at anyone that walked in after you. You heard mumbling and idle talk- it was Monday, and it’d been at least a few days before most people had had contact with their classmates. Greetings floated about before the teacher coughed and began his lesson.

You obediently pulled out a notebook and pencil, scribbling in the margins to distract yourself. You drew bottles and cigarettes, random circles, and a horrible rendition of a person. Before you knew it, class was over, and it was time to get up and leave.

You were the last one out of the room, and for good reason. The halls were crowded with people trying to get both here and there, but there was something else that you couldn’t put your finger on. You bumped elbows with some, and definitely were the subject for a group of laughing girls. Your blank expression didn’t change, but your pulse quickened, as did your pace. When you found a way out, you darted to your next class, ignoring anything and anyone that would possibly try and contact you.

It was like that for most of your day. Head down, dart to the next class. Do your work, turn it in, hide. You wanted nothing more than to be home right now- or at the very least, outside and away from everyone else. 

The period before lunch was the thing you were most looking forward to; Wendy Testaburger sat two seats down from you, and though you didn’t talk much with her, you knew she was at the party. You knew she had answers. She had to.

You left your stuff at your seat and waved to Wendy as she walked in. She smiled and waved back, as usual, but didn’t say anything important to you. You didn’t like to speak up when it was so quiet, but this was important.

“Hey, Wendy,” you called her quietly, hoping that she heard you.

She turned her head around and raised her eyebrows, letting you know that she heard you. “Yeah?”

“Uh, I need to talk to you. About the party. Did-” you quieted down some more, now that you knew she could hear you just fine, “did anything happen? Like, anything I should know about?”

She shook her head before she stopped herself, and started to laugh. “Well, actually, there are a few things you might not remember. Nothing bad though! I promise.” Her unfaltering smile calmed you some, but it could only give you so much comfort.

You nodded, waiting as she told you things you already knew. She told you just how much you sucked at beer pong, and how Stan- that was the black-haired boy’s name- made you drink every time you missed instead of every time you made a shot in. She laughed about how drunk you’d gotten, stumbling over and then nearly falling into Bebe when you realized you’d finally scored a point for them.

You nodded, but none of this helped. “So, I just got shitfaced and then went to sleep on your couch? That’s all that happened?”

She started to nod, but then stopped herself. “Well, no.”

When she didn’t elaborate, you pressed further. “Well, what? Seriously, Wendy, there are groups of girls I’ve never seen before laughing at me in the hallway. This is important.” You pled with your eyes and she bit her lip, giving in.

“Okay, but you didn’t hear this from me. Bebe didn’t want me to tell you. Girls’ oath, okay?” She stuck out her pinkie for you to take in a pinkie promise, and as childish as you thought it was, you humoured her and did as she asked.

When it was over, she nodded and leaned in, her voice now just a whisper. “Okay, so you already know you were very drunk. You had trouble walking up the stairs to go sit down and sober up, so I tried to help you but it wasn’t working out. Kenny- you know him, Stan’s friend who always wears orange?- Yeah, he took you upstairs and took care of you. He has more experience than anyone else in that matter, so it was better for him, you know?”

You blinked. Kenny helped you, again? You didn’t think he’d want anything else to do with you after you literally slept on his floor, but, as per usual, you were completely wrong in that regard.

“Wait, so Kenny ‘took care of me’? As in, gave me water and stuff, right?” Your intense gaze never once parted from hers, determined to scrounge up every piece of evidence you could on this case.

“Well, yeah. I don’t know exactly what he did, but I know he didn’t hurt you or anything. At least, not really.”

Confusion once again weighed on your eyebrows. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?”

She opened her mouth and then thought better of it, swallowing her words and looking to the side, as if she were being watched.

“Well, you know him. You know what he does.”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t know Kenny. You know him, and all of Cartman’s friends. I’ve only heard of him, and until the party, I haven’t really had anything to do with them!”

She seemed taken aback by your sudden outburst. “Jesus, (Y/n), you know what I meant. He’s a player. You know what they do- they sleep with girls and brag about it.”

Your stomach dropped and you could feel the butterflies of anxiety flutter through every part of you. “But he didn’t sleep with me.”

Wendy shrugged. “He didn’t have to. All he had to do was say he did.”

Your face scrunched up and you plopped back into your chair completely, Wendy turning back to face the front of the room. You had never been so angry, nor felt so used. You’d also never felt so forced out in the open.

Fuck it, you thought, endorsing your impulses for once, if he’s gonna push me out there, I might as well be out there.

* * *

The lunch bell rang and you practically leaped from your seat, fueled by anger and adrenaline. Maybe you were feeling excitement, too, but you couldn’t tell with the rising anxiety that accompanied your other feelings.

You walked past the lunch line and sat your bag down at your usual table, reserving your seat before you spun on your heel and searched for that orange wearing fucker. He was easy to spot, especially considering your town was small and the school even smaller. You stormed toward him, your feet flying across the cafeteria tile to meet him before he sat down.

Cartman was the first to notice you coming at them, his confused expression turning to one of annoyance before the others noticed you as well. You didn’t give anyone a chance to speak, however, before you opened your mouth and spat pure venom at your perpetrator. 

“What the fuck, McCormick?”

You grabbed his shoulder to make him look at you, but he must’ve sensed you coming because he was already staring you dead in the eye. He had one eyebrow raised, a dumb look on his face like he did nothing wrong at all.

“Hey, who the fuck are you calling McCormick?” Annoyance laced his words.

“You! You can’t just go around telling everyone we had sex! What kind of douchebag does that?”

Cartman snorted opposite you and Kenny looked at him for a brief moment before he turned his attention back on you. “Look, can we talk about this later? I-”

“No.” You interrupted him, tired of hearing his voice. Maybe he was right- everyone knows his name, everyone knows his game; everyone but you, apparently. “We didn’t sleep together. I’ve talked to you a total of two- two!- times, and you tell everyone we fucked? There’s gotta be something wrong with you in your head. Does your mom not give you enough attention?”

You could tell you struck a nerve with him, because his face got red and he clenched his fists under the table. At this point, the surrounding tables got quiet. No one was laughing now- just wide-eyed stares and confused glances from one friend to the other.

“Dude, don’t talk about his mom.” The ginger spoke up, his tone about as serious as the air in the room. Kenny didn’t even comment on his friend trying to back him- instead, he clenched his jaw to keep from saying something incredibly stupid.

“Maybe he should’ve thought about that before he spread rumours about me! Kenny-” you softened, suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion. Fuck, not now, please, you thought, damning your inner waterworks. “you let me stay at your house when my mom kicked me out. I don’t even know you, and you put me to bed so that no one else would take advantage of me when I was intoxicated! And- and now, come to find out, all you wanted to do was tell everyone you tricked another girl into giving you some pussy? What kind of fucked up person does that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes and you finally looked away from him. You sniffed, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands before anyone else could comment on them.

You were too late, though. Cartman piped up, as usual; “Fuck, no one cares, lady. So, you slept with Kenny, big deal. Don’t think you’ll get famous for it or anything. Jesus.”

You scoffed, shaking your head before muttering to Kenny, but mostly to yourself. “I thought you’d be better than this. I just- fuck, nevermind. Fuck you.”

You walked away, leaving him to do whatever he did while you had your back turned to him. You didn’t know, nor did you really care. You picked up your pack and rushed to the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall and crying as much as your body was able to. It wasn’t fair- life wasn’t fair. You knew that, but God you’d thought Kenny was a good guy. You thought maybe that deep down, he was just misunderstood. 

And your heart broke, because it was so obvious that you’d thought wrong.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s S2 R&S - A Gentleman’s Promise

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (君子一诺) which has not been released in EN! 🍒

Features S2 Shaw

In terms of sequencing, this is Shaw’s fourth S2 R&S!

[ Chapter One ]

The first time Teacher Zeng met Shaw was three or four years ago.

Back then, he was just a little over thirty, and was still at an age of surging vigour. Based on the results of his online searches, Teacher Zeng carried a bag, bringing along some tools, and came to this mine shaft alone.

Lifting a torchlight with a weak light, he carefully observed the surroundings, trying to search for the stone tablet with the symbol “8″. Despite walking quite far in, he had not been able to glean anything. It was most likely another instance of “mistaken information”.

But he had to admit - this mine shaft was built too loosely. As a graduate in archaeological studies with practical experience, Teacher Zeng guessed that there was sandy soil underneath. For safety reasons, he decided to leave this place first.

That was when the accident suddenly happened.

Teacher Zeng happened to walk into an exceptionally narrow space. Perhaps the mine shaft was too dark and there wasn’t any space for his feet. Just as he planned to turn around, Teacher Zeng felt the ground beneath his feet soften. Knowing that he had unfortunately stepped onto soil which was too loose, Teacher Zeng reacted quickly, attempting to lunge forward. However, the sinking sandy soil was even faster than his thoughts. He was about to fall -

Before he faced imminent peril, he felt an external force grabbing him suddenly!

In the next second, the sandy soil filled the air, collapsing from above. How could a person’s strength withstand the speed of the collapsing soil? Almost immediately, Teacher Zeng attempted to free himself from the other party’s grip, not wanting to become another person’s liability.

As though sensing Teacher Zeng’s intentions, the other party shouted in a muffled voice, “Hey, grab tight!”

All of a sudden, lightning as bright as daytime appeared out of thin air. In the next second, a loud crackling sound of electrical currents seemed to gather into a ball. Along with a few "boom” sounds, the sandy soil and the wall of the mine were instantly exploded open by lightning.

Taking in light and air once again, Teacher Zeng was still badly shaken up. He subconsciously looked at his “saviour”, who appeared to be a young man of around eighteen or nineteen years of age. His head of bluish purple hair was very striking despite the sand and soil that had fallen on it. And in his palm, there seemed to be some electrical currents releasing buzzing sounds.

Even though he’s an ordinary person, Teacher Zeng had seen enough over the years to guess that this young person was likely an Evolver with an ability related to thunder and lightning.

While a sizeable number of ordinary people had issues against Evolvers, Mr Zeng naturally felt very grateful that his life was saved. He panted loudly, thanking him repeatedly. “Little Bro, I’m truly grateful to you.”

“That’s enough. It wasn’t as exaggerated as you said.”

“But you should consider yourself lucky. Leaving someone in danger isn't my style.” The young man arched his brows while speaking, his tone sounding very flamboyant. He looked Teacher Zeng up and down, his gaze sweeping past his weak handheld torchlight and shovel. While brushing his hair lightly, he casually asked, ���You brought quite a number of tools. What are you doing here?”

At the same time, Teacher Zeng also noticed the other party’s protective equipment used in archaeology.

That mine shaft was definitely not a normal site for exploration. But according to Teacher Zeng’s knowledge, there were quite a number of people like him who were searching for the “historical ruins” represented by that special stone tablet. He might have the same goal.

Probably because the earlier rescue left a favourable impression on Teacher Zeng, he deliberated for a moment before testing the waters. “I heard there might be an unusual stone tablet in the vicinity. I came to have a look since I was curious. What about you?”

Hearing this, the man’s brows arched high. He patted the sandy soil off his body, standing up in an agile manner. Only then did Teacher Zeng notice that he was really tall.

Carrying a black bag, his lips hooked into a smile. “It’s good to be curious. Looks like we’re kindred spirits.”

Watching the man’s back as he left with large strides, Teacher Zeng couldn’t help but surmise where exactly he came from, and how he dared to take action alone at such a young age. However, when he thought about the other party’s skills, Teacher Zeng tossed aside the thoughts in his head: He should be concerned about himself first.

With this thought in mind, Teacher Zheng opened the notebook he brought along with him. Out of habit, he hastily made a brief record before preparing to leave.

It’s a pity that this was yet another futile exploration.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

The next time he met Shaw, several years had gone by.

A few years isn’t exactly long, but it was enough to gradually morph Teacher Zeng’s perseverance in the face of returning empty-handed again and again, into a state of giving up on exploration and finding historical ruins.

That morning, Teacher Zeng reached his work department: the Ancient Literature Society of Loveland City. After conducting the routine selection of a theme, he suddenly received a call from the front counter, telling him that someone was looking for him.

Right after stepping out of the elevator, he instantly noticed the especially striking head of bluish purple hair next to the pillar. Teacher Zeng subconsciously furrowed his brows, feeling as though he had seen such a conspicuous hair colour somewhere. Just then, the other party turned his face leisurely, meeting Teacher Zeng’s line of sight.

The young man narrowed his eyes slightly, giving him a contemplative glance from top to bottom, and an almost indiscernible interest appeared in his eyes. On the other hand, Teacher Zeng remained stunned in place, the memories from relatively far away stirring in his mind.

“You’re that...”

Before Teacher Zeng finished speaking, the young man arched his left slit eyebrow. “...it’s really you.” He swept a glance at the surroundings. “This place isn't convenient. Let’s chat somewhere else?”

The desolate flower nursery at a corner.

“The last time we met was an accident, and we didn't get to introduce ourselves.” The 10am sunlight filtered downwards through the clouds, providing a contrast to the glistening colours in the young man’s eyes. “I’m Shaw. The reason why I looked for you today...” 

“The reason why you looked for me today couldn’t be because of what happened a few years ago, right?”

Not expecting Teacher Zeng to be so direct, the corners of Shaw’s lips curled upwards. “Since you’ve already asked, I’ll get straight to the point.” While speaking, he retrieved a slightly yellowed old photograph, holding it before Teacher Zeng.

Once he saw the photo, Teacher Zeng lifted his head in surprise. “Why do you have this photograph?”

There were two people in this old photograph. One of them was an obviously younger version of Teacher Zeng, and the other was, astonishingly, Shaw’s mentor.

[Note] Shaw’s mentor is introduced in his 2020 birthday R&S!

Shaw raised the old photograph. “That old man standing next to you left this to me, and said I could look for a helper based on this photo if I ever needed it. I found it a while ago, and realised the person the old man let me look for was actually a ‘familiar person’.”

Teacher Zeng was stunned. So he’s...

Even though Shaw didn’t make it clear, Teacher Zeng already had an answer in his heart.

Shaw rolled his shoulders casually, then continued. “The old man said that you’re really skilful when it comes to online searches and exploration.”

“I’m not that good, maybe just a little faster in searching than ordinary people.” Suddenly hearing Shaw bringing up his mentor, nostalgia flashed across Teacher Zeng’s eyes. “Come to think of it, I just graduated back then, and many things were based on trial and error. Being guided by your mentor for a while was truly a huge fortune.”

“That old man...” Shaw couldn’t help but laugh, but he quickly returned to the earlier topic. “You should also know that we aren’t the only ones searching for the ruins.”

“The speed of one person is limited, so I’m looking for a ‘helper’. How is it? Are you interested in working together?”

After Shaw finished saying this, Teacher Zeng unexpectedly hesitated, growing quiet.

Along with Teacher Zeng’s silence, Shaw slowly retracted the smile in his eyes.

“Actually, in recent years, I haven’t continued in this matter...” A wave of perplexity appeared in Teacher Zeng’s eyes. “I’ve been disappointed too many times over the years. So many times that I’ve gradually lost my motivation despite being unwilling to.”

Shaw’s tone was very calm. “Anticipating failure is something archaeologists should have gotten used to since a long time ago.”

“You might say that, but what exactly is this so-called “ruins”? Whether or not it truly exists - even this answer is a blank space-”

“It doesn’t count as a blank space.” Shaw interrupted him. “Whether they are those picture scrolls kept by the old man, or the notes he left behind, all the records and markings are traces of the real existence of the ruins. As long as they’re around, it’s worth exploring.”

“The instincts of an archaeologist tells me that the secret hidden within it is definitely related to a certain mysterious civilisation. And we might just be missing that final push.”

Teacher Zeng was left in a daze, and he didn’t speak.

Hearing Shaw bringing up his mentor’s picture scrolls and notes, Teacher Zeng’s own notebook, which already had hairy edges, suddenly flashed in his eyes. Actually, there were many times when he wanted to store the notebook in the bottom of his box. But until now, the notebook remained at the top of his drawer even though he couldn't fathom why.

"Although there are times when I dislike how the old man goes on a wild goose chase,” Despite how Shaw said “dislike”, a small smile appeared in his eyes, “But he said something which was correct. As long as you persevere, there will come a day when the secrets within will be revealed. So, as long as there’s a shred of hope, it doesn’t count as a disappointment.”

After saying this, Shaw kept the photograph, then shrugged when he saw how Teacher Zheng remained stunned in place. “But people who are as stubborn as the old man are truly a rarity of rarities. If it’s too difficult, forget it. I’ve never forced anyone into doing anything.”

“All right, that’s all. I’m off.”

“Wait!”

Teacher Zeng called out to Shaw without realising it. His mouth hung open. For a moment, he had no idea what he wanted to say.

A person’s subconsciousness is always the most honest. It turned out that he had never completely let go of searching for the historical ruins. And what he needed was perhaps a person to give him another push.

With this thought in mind, Teacher Zeng met Shaw’s bright eyes. “If you really need it... I could try helping you out once or twice.”

-

[ Chapter Three ]

After agreeing to Shaw, Teacher Zheng spent the following week using codes and calculations to search almost every corner of the panoramic maps on the internet. He meticulously searched for new locations of the historical ruins, not expecting the progress to go even more smoothly than expected.

“With such speed, you truly live up to your reputation.”

Teacher Zeng sent the location to Shaw. “I’ve found two likely positions. One of them is this abandoned factory building which seems more plausible.” Shaw stared at it fixedly for a few seconds, then curled a corner of his mouth and said, “Okay, got it.”

Next to the railing on the roof, sunlight seemed to be even brighter than usual. Magnificent solar flares leapt in between Shaw’s bluish purple hair. He straightened up, his confident expression even more dazzling to the eyes than the sunlight in between his hair. Shaw kept his phone away. “Since I don't have anything on tomorrow, I might as well take a look first.”

Hearing Shaw saying this so lightly, Teacher Zeng instinctively wanted to give him a cautionary warning. However, since it was only their third meeting, he didn’t really know how to phrase it. 

Tidying the hair on his temples which were blown messy by the breeze, Teacher Zeng finally spoke. “I might be overthinking it, but I feel as though it’s been going too smoothly. In the past, I’ve always had to exert double the time to find hazy markings and traces. In short, be more careful tomorrow.”

Shaw arched his brows. “Got it.” Shaw lowered his head to check the time, then waved his hand. “I have class in the afternoon, so I’m heading off.”

-

That evening, Teacher Zeng slept without a peace of mind, and he woke up just as the sky started to brighten. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he subconsciously tapped open the address that he had discovered earlier, but realised that the markings he saw earlier had vanished!

Were the markings he saw earlier false information by someone on the internet?

Teacher Zeng was startled awake completely. After checking for the third time, he immediately contacted Shaw, but realised that he couldn’t get through no matter what. Feeling anxious, Teacher Zeng rushed to the abandoned building with his quickest speed. 

The moment he entered, he saw countless rusty iron sheets and iron pipes. He keenly detected a strange atmosphere: this place was abnormally quiet.

Just as this thought flashed in his mind, a deafening sound drifted from the building in the next second. Thinking of how he had not contacted Shaw yet, Teacher Zeng trembled with fear, sticking himself against the wall of the staircase, and running up quickly.

-

[ Chapter Four ]

“BOOM-!”

While Teacher Zeng was rushing up, Shaw was facing an unknown attack.

The attacker was hiding in a dark place, and was probably an Evolver who could control metal. The iron pipes in the surroundings were pulled mid-air in an astonishing angle, sent smashing in Shaw’s direction. The air was very quickly mixed with the muffled echos of metal.

Shaw’s eyes keenly swept towards the dark area. As though accurately predicting the other party’s thoughts, he unfurled his palm in contempt, sending crackling lightning towards the iron pipes which are not too far away. With a muffled thud, the attacker was struck down.

Perhaps the consecutive failures had left the attacker in a complete frenzy. In the next second, a loud sound of metal exploded in the air.

But Shaw’s reaction was even faster.

His fingertips instantly crackled with electricity. With a flick of his wrist and a stretch of his arm, along with a frigidly cold “hmph”, the loud sound of electrical currents followed the expanse of metal pipes, striking the attacker like a sharp blade.

Most likely sustaining heavy damage, the attacker no longer cared about anything else, fleeing by jumping from the window in a flurry.

In a single breath, Teacher Zeng ran to the roof of the building, but only made it in time to see the moment a hazy figure leapt out of the window.

Shaw furrowed his brows, lifting his hand in distaste as he wiped the rust off his face. “Tch, I actually let him get away.” He turned his head and saw Teacher Zeng who had suddenly appeared, then pursed his lips. “What are you doing here?”

Teacher Zeng explained softly. “I just found out that this could be a trap, but I couldn’t contact you, so I rushed here without thinking too much... it’s a good thing you’re skilled.”

Shaw casually tidied his drooping fringe, revealing his eyebrows, which were arched high. After all, they were “co-workers”. Hearing these words blurted out by Teacher Zeng, the initially sharp expression in Shaw’s eyes turned indiscernibly gentler.

While heading down with Shaw, Teacher Zeng released a sigh, then laughed bitterly. “It’s been so many years. From what I know, due to the lack of progress, people who were searching for the historical ruins like me, you, and your mentor, gave up in succession. I just never thought that aside from there being no progress, it actually became even more dangerous...”

“That’s enough. This matter had nothing to do with you. Searching for the ruins isn’t dangerous.” Hearing Teacher Zeng’s self-abasement and guilt, Shaw interrupted him. “In the process of searching, I accidentally made a few enemies. The one from today was probably just targeting me.”

While speaking, they walked out of the abandoned building.

Despite going through this shocking wrestle, it was only daybreak. The rosy dawn served as a foil to the rising sun, elegantly travelling thousands of miles in the sky, the rose red rays of light spilling across the overgrown land, spilling into Shaw’s serious eyes which refused to concede defeat.

“When it comes to things worth persisting in and challenging, I’ve long since mentally prepared myself for protracted warfare.”

Shaw’s lips hooked upwards, an earnest spirit leaping in his eyes. “They will definitely lose.”

Seeing the stubbornness and seriousness hidden in the depths of Shaw’s eyes, Teacher Zeng’s heart suddenly received a jolt.

At first glance, the young man in front of him looked youthful and flamboyant. But his tenacity and dedication far surpassed the imagination of most people, and made Teacher Zeng re-discover the surging emotions he once had in his earlier years.

He’s akin to a giant creature hiding in the deep sea. Once he bit onto a goal, he would never let go.

For some reason, Teacher Zeng found this emotion rather familiar. It’s as though time had flowed backwards to several years ago. Back then, under the guidance and assistance from Shaw’s mentor, he had once seen a similar expression and tone of voice in the other party.

When the faraway memories surged up, Teacher Zeng stopped breathing. What accompanied this was that smiling face reminiscent of a mischievous child, the web pages he found after days and nights of searching, and all the locations he had once explored without a regard for the results...

Emotions he had not felt for a long time suddenly surged in Teacher Zeng’s heart.

-

[ Chapter Five ]

The weather today is very humid, and there doesn’t seem to be a single gust of wind.

After lunch, Teacher Zeng heads to the grocery store to buy a box of cigarettes. Then, he makes his way to the small flower nursery at the corner. Just as he breathes a few mouthfuls of smoke, the sound of footsteps suddenly drifts from behind him.

Teacher Zeng bites on the cigarette bud and turns around: it’s Shaw.

“Good afternoon.” Shaw has a hand stuffed into his pocket, elongating his words teasingly. “Since you’re smoking to entertain yourself, looks like Teacher Zeng has been pretty bored lately.”

Teacher Zeng chuckles softly. “Why are you here today?”

Shaw purses his mouth. “This might sound baffling. This morning, someone dressed in black suddenly attacked my antique store, wanting to search for some leads...”

Teacher Zeng ponders on this.

Slightly irritated, Shaw kicks a pebble at his feet. “It isn’t that easy to defeat me. We have to find the starting point for the ruins first.”

He lifts his eyes and looks at Teacher Zeng, arching his brows. “If I remember correctly, you mentioned being able to help “once or twice” that day. I’m now asking for that second round of assistance.”

Ever since they parted ways the previous time, Teacher Zeng had been giving it much thought. Perhaps Shaw’s persistence moved him, or Shaw’s mentor made him feel sentimental for the past. Regardless, a certain thought in the depths of his heart is especially clear: Actually, he had never let go of searching for the historical ruins. Since that’s the case, he might as well be involved in it entirely, and it wouldn’t put the years of accumulated knowledge to waste. 

Teacher Zeng has a small smile as he speaks leisurely. “Helping out is definitely not a problem. I’ve already been searching for new leads over the past duration. But I’d like to change the conditions.”

Shaw shoots him in glance with deep interest.

Extinguishing the cigarette bud beneath his foot, Teacher Zeng turns his head and says, “If you face more problems, it’d no longer be ‘once or twice’. We’ll work together formally. Can you accept this condition?

Finally, the clouds on the horizon seem to be dispersed by the wind slightly, revealing rays of light.

Shaw arches his brows. “Deal.”

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