#so i feel like listing out who and why is just such a messy ordeal

[chirpsythismorning]

1 member of each group (the kids, the teens, the adults) has to bite the dust in s5, no way around it. who are you choosing?

I refuse to answer this I'm sorry! Get somebody else to do it!

[bountyhaunter]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Daiyu's house PARTIES: Alistair @deathsplaything, Emilio @mortemoppetere, Vic @natusvincere, Zane & Daiyu @bountyhaunter SUMMARY: A conspiracy meets to plan an ambush. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A

She had never had this many people in her house. Scratch that: Daiyu had never had people in her house, ever. Not this one, anyway, this small cabin that she’d been able to rent through hunter connections and had been living in for about half a year. It was kind of overwhelming, if she was honest, but she never was to herself and so she didn’t pay it any mind. 

She returned to the living room with a stack of mismatched cups and a bottle of soda, placing them on the table where a few other key ingredients for a strategy meeting already resided. A package of grocery store chocolate chip cookies and a bowl of potato chips, for one, and then all the bits and bobs of paper like the blueprints and guard schedules Alistair had provided. She looked around the strange combination of people — from Emilio to Vic (who she’d just thought a very sweet suburban mom up until recently) to a guy named Zane (whoever that was) to Alistair. Brutus and Nugget were hopefully entertaining each other in corner. She’d be very sad if they didn’t get on.

“Alright,” she said, ignoring the cups and soda now that she’d placed them on the table. These people were capable of pouring themselves a drink and she wasn’t very good at hosting, anyway. To the dismay of her father — but well, that wouldn’t be the main thing that’d bother him about this ordeal. “Where were we? Us …” She gestured at Alistair and herself. “On the inside. We’ll make sure there’s not a lot of peeps on schedule.” Daiyu tucked her legs underneath herself as she got comfortable on the floor. She didn’t have enough chairs. She barely had enough forks for one person. “Whatever. Getting in’s not the issue.” She was down to brush over those details, because something else was nagging at her. Daiyu wasn’t very good at boring planning details. She pulled a messy list of captives toward her. She’d worked on that over the past week. “What do we do about the people?”

—

Tension turned his body into a coiled spring, ready to leap up at the slightest irritation. Emilio stood in the kitchen with his back against the wall, eyes darting periodically between Alistair and the woman he didn’t know with the occasional uncertain glance towards Daiyu. The only person in this room he trusted fully was the one he’d brought himself, and he was already feeling a little guilty for dragging Zane along. 

He looked to the table, to the blueprints and papers and things he probably wouldn’t understand. This level of planning was new to Emilio. Most of the time, his plans consisted of ‘go in, kill what needs killing, try not to die.’ (Except for the ones that omitted the last point — he tried not to let himself think of those for the moment.) This kind of strategizing was foreign to him. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here. Part of him wanted to protest, wanted to point out that it wasn’t necessary for the blade to know what the hand was planning. Point him in the direction where he needed to slice, and he’d do it. Everything else seemed wasted on him. 

But… he wasn’t sure he trusted any of them, even Daiyu, enough not to know the plan. If he was going to put Zane’s stupid life on the line, he was going to make sure the plan was a decent one. He owed the vampire that, at least. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a flask and took a swig, ignoring the soda and snacks Daiyu had set out. This was more his style. “Case by case, I think,” he piped in, glancing at the list Daiyu had provided. “Some of them might not be the kind we want to put back into the world.” But Emilio wouldn’t leave anyone locked up. A quick death was kinder, he thought; he’d give them that. It was what he’d want for himself, when the time came. “Okay. So, we need to… look into this. Right? See why they were brought in, decide what to do with who. We don’t want to send serial killers loose on the town.”

—

It had taken a lot from Alistair to leave Tommy at the apartment to come to this meeting. The two had become dependent on each other since the loss of Melody and both of their worlds crumbled from under them. The only thing that propelled Alistair forward on this mission was that his life was on the line, and there was no way they would leave Tommy alone. They owed everything they could to make this out alive. And if that meant going against The Good Neighbors and Winnifred herself? Then so be it. Brutus had been playing with Nugget in the corner, but Alistair gave the command, and Brutus ceased his playtime and made his way over to his owner, eager to work. 

A case-by-case basis was necessary. Alistair remembered a lot of the names that went into those cages and remembered the atrocities that were committed. “Winnifred has a better-kept log that has names, dates of imprisonment, and reasoning,” Alistair spoke up, arms crossed over their chest as they stared blankly forward. “Daiyu and I could call her to the keep to discuss overcrowding,” Alistair suggested, knowing that the keep was getting seriously overcrowded. It was something they’d have to talk about eventually, whether Winnifred wanted to or not. “She’d bring her book with her and make decisions for ‘the good of the town.’ or whatever she tells herself.” 

“Listen, this mission is not going to be easy,” Alistair warned, hand gripping around the hold of Brutus’s harness. “People are going to get hurt, people are going to die. Not everyone you release will be happy to see you.” Alistair knew from experience how wily they could be. They knew they had to prepare for the worst, a spell that they’d already begun to prepare for. Alistair was going to die there, they knew they were. But they didn’t want anyone else to get killed along with them. If they could warn them of the dangers, they’d at least have done their part.

__

Vic had turned back home three times before she finally convinced herself to join this meeting.  This was why she’d joined the Good Neighbors in the first place, right?  To protect the vampires she’d suspected were being targeted and start the path toward righting the wrongs of her past.  Sure, she may have gotten a little distracted by the delicious little taste of neighborhood power joining the group had provided her (she’d made more citizen’s arrests in the last month than probably her entire time in Wicked’s Rest, but littering was down a good 10%). But after finally overhearing the truth from Alistair and Daiyu a few days ago, it felt like something substantial was finally about to happen.

As she sat straight-backed in the chair that had been offered to her, pursing her lips at the menu offered to them, a punch of guilt invaded her stomach, scolding her for even thinking of freeing monsters from their cages.  She had known for nearly 300 years that they deserved to die, and if she were in this meeting three years earlier, she would have elected to kill them all on sight.  What kind of world was she leaving for Rosie-... for humanity… if she let monsters like herself walk free?  But then her mind flipped again, to all the work she’d done to be better, to all the ‘monsters’ that had proved her wrong… Why couldn’t this have been easier?

“Why do we get to decide which of them deserves death?” Vic chirped from her corner, the first thing she’d uttered the whole meeting.  “Is that not just as reprehensible as what Winnifred is doing?  Who’s deciding morality here?”

__

Zane had rarely felt as out of place as he did here, working very hard to piece together the bits of information Emilio had provided with the people in the room and the words they were exchanging. It probably didn’t help that he’d chosen to stand, wanting to fade into the background with his ill-defined role here but realizing it probably made him look like Emilio’s bodyguard or something equally silly. How the slayer would have seethed at that notion. Moving to sit now seemed worse but he did uncross his arms, trying to match names and what they were to the faces in the room. 

It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn grim - who gets to live. He’d had this conversation with Emilio, about how locking up things like Zane wasn’t a viable option. Not humane, either, especially for something that would practically live forever. It still made his skin crawl but the naivety he’d possessed last year existed no more, gone up in flames when that barn did. “Someone has to do it,” he found himself speaking up, not sure how much of it was his own opinion and how much was simply support for Emilio, which seemed his only true role here. “At least this way it’s… informed.” Was he even supposed to take part in the conversation? Well, too late now. 

—

This was why she shouldn’t get caught up in affairs. Not human affairs, not supernatural affairs — none. Daiyu functioned best on her own. If she had never joined up, she would have never known about this and she would have been able to spend this night watching Buffy. But here she was. Hosting the revolution for a place that should perhaps not be overthrown, hearing people talk about what she preferred to avoid. Morals. She tended to let herself be led by the bounty board, not by what felt good.

She started stuffing a cookie into her mouth so she had an excuse not to talk (which was nonsensical, considering she talked with a full mouth all the time) and felt herself grow agitated. “Yeah, we could totally get the book off her, no doubt,” she said, “Whatever, but — even those are — you know.” Vic was making good points. All of them were. She wanted to slam her head into the table.

“Way I see it, Winnifred isn’t … she’s just a human. Trying to do what she reckons is best, but she doesn’t … she’s clueless, yeah?” She glanced at Emilio. “Cortez and I, we’re hunters. We know this shit. We’ve been raised for this. We know what’s a risk, what’s not.  What beast to take out in the woods and which to let run its course, ya know? So it’s the same as that. Just … more …” She wiped a crumb off the table. “Premeditated. Whatever. Most important is that it ends here. And yeah, for many that’s gonna mean it ends-ends.” Daiyu’s job was to figure out who in town should be targeted, hadn’t it? She knew in some cases why some of the prisoners had been put there. She’d made that judgment. None of them were innocent. (None of them at this table were either. Well, maybe Zane and Vic, she wasn’t sure.) “I’ll make sure there’s plenty of weapons around for when push comes to shove.”

—

Zane had his back, though Emilio wondered how much of what he was saying was what he really believed and how much came from his perception that he still owed Emilio for what happened in that barn a year ago now. He didn’t bring Zane along to have a yes man in his corner, didn’t want someone who would agree with everything he said. He needed Zane for the same reason he needed Teddy, or Wynne, or Xó: because sometimes, Emilio led with something that wasn’t his head. Sometimes, the past got muddled in with the present, and nothing was quite right. If he was making the wrong choice here, he needed someone to tell him that. He needed it to be someone he trusted, someone who understood him. He had to hope that Zane was speaking his mind and not saying what he thought Emilio wanted to hear. He spared the vampire a quick glance, hoping to communicate all of this in a simple look. It was a lot of pressure to put on an expression that really wasn’t much different than his usual.

He glanced to the necromancer, scoffing quietly. “I don’t think anyone here walked in that door thinking this would be easy,” he replied flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. “If it were easy, we wouldn’t need this meeting.” This was going to be rough. It was going to be hard and it was going to be dangerous and people were probably going to die. People at this table were probably going to die. Emilio felt a surge of guilt for the fact that he hadn’t shared his plan to participate in this with any of the important people in his life. If he died doing this, none of them would know until after. They’d probably be upset about that. 

He nodded as Daiyu spoke, glancing around the table. “Look, I think… These people got into this shit thinking they were doing something good.” He let his eyes go from Daiyu to the clean-cut looking woman beside her to the necromancer. Maybe all of them had gotten into the Good Neighbors with good intentions, and maybe they hadn’t. Emilio wasn’t sure it mattered. What mattered more was their intentions now. “Some of the people locked up there are bad. There’s no denying that. But some of them aren’t. Some of them are just people who have made mistakes, maybe, and they can learn from this. And the ones who can’t…” He trailed off, clenching his jaw. “I would rather die,” he said simply. “If I had to choose between being locked away for as long as these people live or dying for what I’ve done, I would rather die. It’s better. It’s faster for them. It’s safer for everyone else. It’s better. So this is what I’m doing. If someone has a problem with it, you can try to stop me, but something tells me we’re all here because we’re on the same page, yes? So we figure out who gets what, and we figure out how to give it to them. That’s what we do. Anyone who wants to leave can leave, but I’m all in.”

—

When it came to killing, Alistair was no saint. They’d done it before, they’d probably do it again. They’d done it for the sake of saving Tommy, they’d done it to save countless others. But they’d never killed someone without someone else benefitting from it. They’d never killed on a scale such as this. And that’s what they were doing, wasn’t it? All those people who couldn’t be set free were going to die. It caused Alistair to shift their weight from foot to foot, head downcast as they thought about the implications of taking more lives. They wanted no part of it anymore. Still, if it had to be done to keep people safe, then the benefits outweighed the costs in their minds. 

“There are alarms.” Alistair piped up, looking through Brutus’s eyes to point in the correct placements. “Once when the front gate is breached, once when the button on the cages is hit.” Alistair pointed to the center control panel with a frown. “If you want to set them all free, that’s where you want to go.” He tapped his finger against the paper before removing it.

Alistair pulled out a set of keys that Daiyu had. “This one opens cages.” They explained, pulling out a rather large key and laying it on the table, then pulling out a passkey. “That’ll get you in the building without detection. We’ve made sure that security is lighter that day by putting ourselves on duty.” Alistair put the pass key down on the table alongside the large ring of keys. “Daiyu and I will stick together, so we don’t need both of us to have this on us.” 

“As for who lives and who dies, we’ll deal with that when the time comes when we have that book from Winnifred. What are we going to do about her?” They implored, knowing that Winnifred would go down kicking and screaming if it came to it. “She’s a human, but she’s a human that thinks what she’s doing is justified and within reason.” 

__

Vic had known some of them were hunters before she arrived.  Of course there’d be hunters in a situation like this.  For years, hunters were probably the people she felt most comfortable with, as long as her bracelet was functioning properly.  She was practically surrounded by them, whether at her old bartending job where they frequented or her more nefarious meetings where she was trading information about vampires for cash.  But now, with everything between Rosie and her change of heart, she found herself actively avoiding them.  She felt herself toying with the cloaking bracelet as they argued.  

As Emilio spoke, Vic couldn’t deny the familiar feeling that fluttered through her stomach, the one she felt after she was presumably betrayed by her first love, and again after she was sired.  “I’m still not comfortable with us being so egotistical as to think we get to be the deciding factor, but…”  People were still important.  Humanity was still important, as much as it sucked.  There had to be a nuance between the belief that all vampires were monsters and all vampires were saints.  Her sire was no saint.  Neither was she.  She sighed before she continued.  “It seems with the time crunch, it’s our only option.”  She wasn’t happy with it, because morality in general felt so gray these days, but she couldn’t sit by and watch them all be prisoners.  Not with everything she knew now.

The group that they had gathered seemed valuable, and willing to work together, and for a moment, she doubted her place amongst them.  Would she be much help?  “There won’t be much use in us trying to get through to her”, Vic said.  She was the newest member of the group, the one who knew Winnifred the least, but she knew more than her fair share about having the wrong idea about supernaturals and using it to try to rid them of the world.  “Perhaps she needs a taste of her own medicine.  At least until we figure out what to do with the others.”

__

It would be even more difficult when the time came. This discussion was one thing, even looking over names on paper might be easy but when the time came… Zane wondered briefly if rehabilitation was an option. Where was the line? For humans, those who would eventually perish during a life sentence, there were cases of atrocities bad enough that redemption wasn’t in the cards, would never be on the cards. Was this scenario that much different? They did lack a judge and jury but if murder, especially repeat offenses, meant a life sentence, wasn’t that what they were executing in a way? At least for the ones like him, hadn’t they already used up all their allotted time and simply cheated death? The brief ethics course in nursing school hadn’t exactly prepared him for this. 

Emilio was staring him down, face unreadable as always. Did he not want him to talk? Or maybe not agree? Who knew, honestly. At least it seemed settled that not everyone would be released into the wild from their prison, the older man with the dog moving on to plans that made Zane feel eerily like this was a heist movie. The odds for an end scene showing how they pulled everything off smoothly with no casualties didn’t feel great, though. “What are we dealing with in terms of the people… running this? Are they all… human?” Zane found himself asking as they discussed the fate of the ring leader - it was hypocritical in some ways but the idea of harming humans didn’t sit well with him at all. It had been over a year but he still felt more of a kinship with them than his fellow undead. 

—

All of this went against all Daiyu had made herself know for the past years. She was a bounty hunter, plain and simple. The Good Neighbors had been a gig, a lucrative one at that — but she’d joined with that stupid notion of doing something good and it seemed she hadn’t given up on that. “We don’t touch that button, then. The one that opens everything at once. That’s disaster.” She looked at the keys, then at the would-be intruders. “Just get in with those, don’t raise any fucking alarms, and the first bit should be smooth. It’s when start opening the cages that we should be more alert.”

She took her list back. It had names, species, some transgressions on it. It wasn’t Winnifred’s color coded book, but it was something. “Let’s get through some, at fucking least. We’re here now.” She didn’t want many more of these meetings. Daiyu splayed it on the table, pointed at the name Mack Ross. “Like, I can tell you now what and how. She killed a buncha people, isn’t in control, which is …” She made a motion. “Ludacris, ‘cause it’s Mack fucking Ross. Then, Johnny no surname, he’s a vampire. You know, I think he’s alright, he loves Snicker Snackers, he could totally do an animal based diet, maybe.” She pointed to another name, “Svetlana, serial student killer. Stake.” Daiyu motioned staking a vampire, wooshing sound and all. She pointed at another name. “Chang, dunno his first name. Kept the bones of all his kills after he ate ‘em whole. Probs best to not release him into the world again.”

To speak about killing undead and shapeshifters was something she did with an eerie ease, as it was who she was brought up to be. Later that night, she’d reflect on her lackadaisical attitude with distaste, but for now it was something to hold onto. She felt something stir in her stomach at the mention of Winnifred, though, and her eyes moved to Emilio. Hunters were supposed to protect humans. Winnifred had tried to do the same, foolishly and cruelly, but she had. “We destroy the keep. We make sure they don’t make one again. And yeah, all human. Or like, human with some zest, like Al and I.” She wasn’t going to kill them. “So yeah. We destroy their means and that’s that.”

—

“Agreed,” Emilio said, nodding towards Daiyu. “Setting everyone free at once would be a bloodbath.” The more violent offenders would kill each other, the ones offended by the time they’d lost behind bars would kill anyone who got close. And that was to say nothing of the ones who might just be hungry. That wasn’t the sort of chaos any of them could afford. They needed to do it slowly. It would be risky, sure, but… less risky than setting loose a whole slew of problems. “Whose cage gets opened first, then?” The ones with the best shot of actually getting out would be the ones freed in the very beginning. But beyond that… “Any prisoners who might help us out? Without killing any of us, ideally.” His eyes darted towards Alistair and Daiyu, who’d both had some kind of a hand in the… acquisitions. 

Daiyu, at least, seemed to be on the same page. She was already pointing to her book, and Emilio felt a little uneasy at the first name she pointed out. Mack Ross. Kaden and Monty were both fond of her, weren’t they? “We should spring her early on.” He pointed to Mack’s name. “At the beginning.” He offered no explanation as to why. “Johnny no-name, too. Get the ones out who we think will need the… least amount of help staying honest. The ones we know we’re going to kill, we should get to last. That way if something happens and we can’t get to everyone…” At least they could free the ones who needed freeing before going out in a blaze of glory. He let the thought hang unfinished. Looking at the list, he pointed at another name. “That’s my client’s friend. We free her early, too.” After all, that was why he’d gotten dragged into this whole mess to begin with.

Winnifred, though… That was more complicated. He met Daiyu’s eye, then glanced to Zane. Did it matter if a human didn’t think they were doing harm, as long as harm was done? How much did good intentions matter, in a case like this? Emilio had to believe they meant something. After all the bad shit he’d done with good intentions, he wasn’t sure he was the best one to judge. “We don’t have to kill any of them.” But would he stop any of the prisoners, if they tried? He wasn’t sure. “We destroy the place,” he agreed. “How… detailed are their records? We should destroy those, too. Make it impossible for them to start up again next week or something.”

—

Staying silent as the others deliberated who lived and who died, it was like he was healing people all over again. The wellbeing and life for one, was the only way to help another. Some of the people who were locked up in those cages were less monsters than Alistair was, and they knew it. They stayed silent as they deliberated, then perked up at the name of Mack Ross. “Yes, definitely free Mack,” Alistair spoke up finally, knowing that she was a sweet girl who had already been through enough. What she did to land her in the Good Neighbor’s in the first place be damned. They, like Emilio, also offered no further comment. 

“I’m all for destroying the place.” They muttered, knowing that their opinion on matters held little sway. “Winnifred will fight for this place, it’s her baby, it’s been her sole purpose for so long,” Alistair explained, tapping a finger against their other arm as they thought. “The records are kept here,” Alistair spoke, tapping the map to a back room. “It’s got fireproofing, so you’ll need to go in there first.” Alistair frowned, realizing the problem with that. “Only Winnifred has access to that room, not even I can get in there.” 

Winnifred had good intentions, but she didn’t know what the real world was really like. She saw what she wanted to see, and turned a blind eye to all the rest that made the rosy picture anything else. They’d learned that after being close to her after all these years. “There will be after-effects of this we should think about as well. Just because the keep is gone doesn’t mean they won’t try to reform somehow. People will always find a way. The top hitters are the ones you’ll want to keep an eye on, like Winnifred if you decide to leave her in the ruins of her keep.”

__

Vic shifted in her seat, uncomfortable as the names down the list were being read.  None of them sounded familiar, even the first one that Daiyu seemed to imply would be well known, but the talk surrounding them didn’t make her any less uncomfortable.  What had kept her from the same fate as these vampires?  What if they were freshly sired, or hadn’t had a chance to learn yet?  What if an old, grumpy bitch of a vampire had betrayed her own kind and caused them on a path of destruction, somehow?  She stood up from her chair suddenly, crossing her arms over her chest.  “You don’t have to speak of this so crassly.  It’s almost as if you’ll enjoy killing them.  If that’s the case, you’re no better than them.”

She was no better than her old self, if she was allowing this to happen.  Perhaps she could find a way to rescue those they were intending to harm.  She could buy a property in the outskirts of town, far away from Rosie, and teach them to be less monstrous, somehow.  It felt wholly cruel to take someone’s second chance away.  What would these people say about her if she had found herself in the keep? Their words sounded muffled around her as she concocted it. Victoria Larsson, reformed vampire hater and only feeds from what she calls ‘ethically sourced’.  Currently brainwashing a slayer child.  Monster. Stake. 

She sat back down with a huff.  “So our moral code includes deciding that some prisoners die for their crimes, but all of the people who locked them up just get to roam free with some property damage?  Alistair is right.  They’re just going to find a way to do this again.  Maybe with more permanent consequences, as a backlash to our success.  Letting them walk without consequence would be as foolish as not doing anything at all.

__

The one with the notes, Daiyu, started moving down the list in a way that so clearly established her as a hunter. It was crass but not necessarily… wrong. There seemed to be a distinction made between pure malevolence and mistakes, a lack of control. Zane felt relief, realized that if his own transgressions were being judged, he would have stood a chance at this proposed reform. “Is it safe to assume no one’s been… feeding them?” he wondered as Emilio suggested letting the previously captive help. “Because I can… provide blood.” He didn’t offer any explanation as to how - skimming from the hospital seemed like a necessary evil in this scenario. 

—--

Daiyu felt her stomach sink as Vic chastised her, eyes blazing as she looked at her, “You don’t know shit about shit, lady,” she bit, before trying to turn to other matters. A headache was forming behind her eyes and she looked at the list before pulling it towards her again. With a pen she found somewhere on the table she added some asterisks next to names they’d discussed and X’s next to others. “This isn’t about being better or worse than ‘em, it’s about ending it. So. What the fuck do you suggest we do about the rest of the good neighbors? Should we punish ‘em all? Hang ‘em from their thumbs or something? What about you? Me? Alistair? Should we throw ourselves under the rubble to repent?” She was mostly talking to Vic now, even if she spoke to all of them. They were humans. Daiyu might not really keep to a code, but hurting humans? You didn’t do that. That was the main hunter rule. 

She tried to refocus. “The cages are split in different rooms. We can make a plan, an order of operations. I can … Alistair and I can list who seem aggressive.” Daiyu considered suggesting they just kill them all, but that was too crass, even for her. “We just light all the shit on fire. Getting a flamethrower shouldn’t be hard.” She would like to have one on hand, anyway, for totally legal reasons. 

She glanced at Zane. “Sometimes. When there’s stuff. I give them some of the … leftovers from my regular hunts sometimes. But if you’ve got proper shit, sure. Smuggling stuff in isn’t too hard.” Getting it out was what was harder. “Might be better if the vamps aren’t starved. Can you get brains too?”

—

“I don’t think trying to keep serial killers off the streets makes us shitty people,” Emilio added, nostrils flaring with brief irritation. “We’re not talking about killing the people who were tossed in cages for fucking up. We’re talking about the ones who carve people’s fucking hearts out for fun. You really want people like that running around this town?” The thing was, he understood where the Good Neighbors must have been coming from, in the beginning. Their philosophy wasn’t that far off his own. The only real difference was that Emilio killed the people he deemed worthy of his judgment, while the Good Neighbors locked theirs away. In Emilio’s opinion, killing was kinder. In the opinion of others… Well. There were different schools of thought.

He glanced to Daiyu, nodding his head. “Good idea,” he agreed. “Go in with a plan for the order, get it done as quick as possible. And destroy everything we can. Maybe they try to pick up again later,” he looked to Vic, acknowledging her concern, “but it won’t be easy. We take away their base. We show them that their plans can go wrong. We put the fear in them. If they’re smart, they go underground, try to put distance between themselves and the people they locked up. If they’re not smart…” He trailed off, letting it hang. Odds were, they wouldn’t have to kill any of the people involved with the Good Neighbors. If they didn’t disappear… someone else would take care of that part. Emilio found he didn’t have any real desire to stop that. He wondered if he ought to feel guilty.

He nodded at Zane’s question, looking at Daiyu again. Her smuggling shit in was part of what had clued him in that she might be willing to join his side of this shit. “They’re probably not well fed,” he replied, “so more blood is better. I… might know someone who can get us brains.” He grimaced, unsure he wanted to ask Monty for a favor. But if the zombie was really as into peace as he claimed, he’d probably be on board. And Emilio figured he owed it to him to let him know what was going on with Mack, anyway. He’d want someone to tell him, if it were Nora or Wynne. 

—

For a while, Alistair stayed silent, listening as people listed off what to do, about what they would do with what. For a moment, they found themselves completely detaching from the conversation, dissociating as they thought about the very real possibility of dying here. Some people were locked up who wanted them dead, they’d been too close to Winnifred for too long. They were responsible for their cellmates disappearing and never returning. If anything, Alistair was just as much a monster as those who were locked behind those cell doors. It’s something they’d been wrestling with for quite some time, but now? Now they had to finally address it. 

They couldn’t let themselves simply die, they had to continue preparing for the worst-case scenario. While everyone else planned who to set free and what to do, Alistair was making a mental checklist of what they needed to gather for a spell. “There’s no world where Winnifred wouldn’t come after us if she was allowed to walk away unscathed.” They finally spoke up after some time, still distant, still somewhere else in their mind. 

“I say we let the prisoners deal with her.” It was harsh, it was crass, but it’s what they thought. “I’m sure the prisoners will take care of Daiyu and me if we’re not careful,” Alistair added, crossing their arms over their chest. “We’ve been to the keep countless times, they know our faces.” They spoke to Daiyu, though they didn’t look over to her. “It’s something to keep in mind, that’s all.” They nervously scratched at the side of their nose, knowing that they were opening a can of worms with their words.

__

Vic felt her grip tighten around the arm of the chair, staring Daiyu in the eyes as her sharp words echoed around the room.  For her part, her expression remained stoic and still, but inside, she was seething.  “Those who wish to take down positions of power inherently have to be better.  It’s the whole goddamn point of what we’re doing.”  This was a bad idea, she should have never agreed to join this overtaking- never eavesdropped on Daiyu and Alistair in the first place.  “I suggest that we do anything other than stick our thumbs up our asses and hope for the best.”  Perhaps she should be one of the ones to be punished.  Not for crimes involving the Good Neighbors, but for all she’d done to vampires for centuries.   

But Emilio had a point.  Some of the people in the cages were bad.  That was the long and short of it.  The problem, to her, came with who got to decide what bad was.  “No”, she said quietly, and she stood up again, walking to the other side of the room in a huff.  She wasn’t used to having to work with people, or having to compromise on her beliefs to make  someone else’s plan work for someone else.  But she wasn’t naive to the fact that she was the newbie in all of this, and that everyone here thought they were doing the right thing.  No matter how ignorant some of them sounded.

She glanced at Emilio, then at Daiyu, and then at the others, feeling calmer than she had a moment ago.  “Then I think it’s worth discussing continuing to meet up after everything.  Periodically, to make sure she doesn’t try this again.”

She raised her eyebrows at Alistair’s suggestion, not hating it in the slightest.  It would be the truest justice to let those that were scorned by Winnifred be the ones to decide her fate.  Even if it were just the supposed ‘good’ ones.  She looked between the rest of the group, eager to hear their thoughts.

__

All of the arguing wasn’t exactly inspiring hope. This was a group of people clearly not accustomed to working in a team, basically a bunch of Emilios struggling to find ways to make this collaboration work. Zane wondered if he was the only one in here with actual experience of working in a team - granted, a team focused on saving lives and not… whatever this was. “We’re not gonna get far if the four of you tear each other’s heads off, first,” he muttered, finally moving from the perceived safety of his position backed against the wall. “It’s a shit situation and there’s obviously not going to be a conclusion everyone is comfortable with. So we’re all going to be uncomfortable and really morally compromised and we either deal with it or actual, good people are going to continue to rot away in cells.” It had come out a bit more… scolding than intended and he backed down again, arms once more crossing over his chest. “Up to you, I guess,” he added, withdrawn and hoping he hadn’t overstepped any boundaries as the ‘random fifth addition’. 

Maybe all of this would work. Maybe it wouldn’t. Honestly, it probably wouldn’t and something would go wrong. Zane thought about the last ‘jail break’ he’d been a part of. It had definitely gone wrong but… overall, it had been worth it. All he could hope was that this would be worth it, too. And he needed to remember to ask Emilio later where in the world he was procuring brains from.

—

It was easy to keep looking at Vic. To stare her down and take her words and consider throwing the soda bottle at her head. “Then you can fuck off if you want. There’s no better. There’s just ending it. And we are better, for ending their suffering, rather than keeping them there to rot.” Daiyu’s eyes glared darkly at Zane, another person she barely knew who was suddenly mounting a moral high horse as if there was any morality to be found here. Violence begot violence. This would ripple out. It was just another punch thrown in a never ending brawl. “Fine.”

Speaking of brawls, she’d prefer one of those rather than planning this. “M’fine with meeting up after this.” Then, to Alistair: “She can try to come after me. I wish her a ton of luck fighting her hired muscle.” Daiyu didn’t think herself above harm, but there was no way that Winnifred would win in a fight against her. “Best to keep her away from the Keep when we destroy it, if you ask me. Not alert her and all that shit. Just more trouble.” She rubbed her forehead. “And yeah, people will be pissed. I can deal. I’ve dealt with pissed off supernaturals before.” Kind of part of the job description. “Will watch your back though.” 

She wanted to beckon Nugget over and bury her face in his fur before rushing out and going for a run (where she punched trees). In stead she exhaled. “Alright. Emilio and Zane, blood and brains duty. Alistair, spells. Me? Weapons.” She glared at Vic. “Explosives?” 

—

“If the people she’s fucked over want to go after her, that’s between her and them. I’m not risking my ass to save her from shit she brought onto herself,” Emilio added, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t kill Winnifred, but he wouldn’t stop anyone she’d wronged from doing so if they chose to. After all, he’d hope that anyone who came across him on his never ending quest for vengeance would offer the same courtesy. People got what they deserved, sometimes; Emilio had no intention of standing in the way of that. “If you two want to get out before we start freeing the ones who might be a little angrier at you than others, that’s fine, too,” he added, looking to Alistair and Daiyu. The latter, he figured, would turn down the offer. The former was more likely to take it.

Zane spoke up, and Emilio was reminded why he brought him in the first place. Having someone he knew he could trust was good, but having someone he knew he could trust who could also wrangle people in a way Emilio himself was incapable of? It was a good thing. It made Zane kind of perfect for this shit. He offered the vampire a curt nod. To the rest of the group, he said, “We shouldn’t wait long. They’re likely to figure out someone’s planning something soon. We need to act before then. Catch them off guard. If everyone knows what they’re doing… I say we move in sooner than later. Good with everyone?”

—

The slayer was giving Alistair an out, an out that they very well thought about taking before frowning and shaking their head. “I’m seeing this through.” They spoke, voice harsh and determined. There was so much that they still had to get done, and now was the time to expedite everything they’d worked so hard to accomplish. They were going to do this. They were doing it for Tommy, no one else. Not even themselves.  The plan was set into motion, and there was nothing to do but go ahead with it. From helping to create the Keep and the Good Neighbors to taking it down, Alistair knew they were nothing more than a hypocrite and a traitor. But if this is what it took to keep themselves alive, then so be it. They gripped Brutus’s lead tightly, then nodded their head. “Then so be it. As soon as we’re ready to go, we go. Not a moment later.” Alistair waved a hand, and the papers in the middle of the table began to move around until they were in a neat pile. “Then next we meet, we burn it all to the ground.”

[aliensunflower-fics]

‘Akumatized Marinette’ A funny prompt!

So ive seen a few different fics and posts where Lila convinces the class that Marinette is in fact Mayura and/or is working in some way for Hawkmoth, using such evidence as ‘Marinette’s never been akumatized’ and citing how sometimes Marinette’s attempts to be helpful or friendly or yes her mistakes have resulted in an akuma going after her classmates. Also other evidence like how many akumas the class has had total. But what if Lila could not convince class that Marinette was working with Hawkmoth, desperate to connect Marinette to the supervillain in hopes of plummeting her reputation Lila claims that Marinette is in fact AKUMATIZED hence her villainous actions towards Lila!

Now just follow me here:

What if the class don't believe Lila THAT MUCH. Sure Lila has them convinced that she’s a diplomats daughter and that shes got a million illnesses and physical problems and yes she even has everyone believing that she’s famous and that her and Adrien are a secret item [how scandalous!]. But no one in the class will for a SECOND believe that Marinette is working with Hawkmoth. Lila has tried broaching the subject several times, shes tried leaving ‘hints’ and pointing things out that seem ‘incriminating’ but each and every time she does the class scoff and each of them begin listing a 100 reasons why Marinette is definitely NOT a fan of Hawkmoth and would never work with him.

Frustrated but determined to connect the super villain to Marinette and alienate the girl further Lila seethes and plots. Getting more frustrated each failed attempt and trying to chew off her own sausage hair when people talk about how Marinette would definitely kick Hawkmoth’s ass. Then one day Marinette walks in with a totally new look, she’s cut her hair into a messy pixie cut and is going for a pink punk look. The look gets everyone's attention and the day is spent with everyone complimenting the baker girl [she even gets asked out by a few of the guys in the other classes] frustrated that everyone is paying attention to Marinette instead of herself Lila cant help but make up some big lie about how Marinette assaulted her and stole her money.

The class is justifiably shocked! They have been especially protective of Marinette and her reputation ever since she was expelled and nearly akumatized so more then a few of them start yelling at Lila even Alya who normally sides with Lila due to her belief that her designer friend is jealous is furious at Lila for making an accusation like that! Desperate to recover from the poorly timed and worded lie she’s made Lila thinks fast and comes up with a scheme just crazy enough to work! She claims that obviously it wasn’t ACTUALLY Marinette, no it was the horrible akuma MARIONETTE! The class blinks taken aback but they can’t help but ask what Lila is talking about.

The italian smirks feeling sinister pleasure course through her. She begins weaving her sob story tale! About how Marinette had snuck into one of Adrien and Lila’s photoshoots! Where the poor baker girl saw them *gasp* KISSING! Poor Marinette heartbroken and distraught was akumatized into the horrible monster Marionette! Who stalked Lila home and attacked her! She goes on to claim that the Marinette who was in class today was NOT in fact their good friend rocking a new style and haircut but was instead a vicious akuma after all why do you think Lila was keeping so far away from Marinette all day? She’s TRAUMATIZED after her ordeal and now Marionette the akuma is attending class as if she were Marinette! How terrible could Hawkmoth be to be using their heartbroken friend like this!

The class doesn’t want to believe it, but it makes such perfect sense Marinette WOULD be heartbroken by seeing Adrien the ‘love of her life’ kissing Lila her main rival! And just yesterday Marinette looked completely normal with her cute little pigtails and her signature outfit! She never told any of them she was even GOING to get a haircut! And surely if Marinette was going to make such a big change in her appearance she would have told her bestie Alya right?

But now what is the class to do? Poor Marinette is akumatized and they have no idea what to do or what her object could possibly be! Max, always the logical one concludes that they should simply contact Ladybug and have her help poor Marinette! Lila quickly jumps in claiming she already tried contacting Ladybug OBVIOUSLY since the pair are besties! But that Marionette tricked Ladybug into believing she wasn’t akumatized at all! “No!” Lila laments, “were going to need to take care of this ourselves!”

The class is resolute determined to help poor Marinette without the help of Ladybug who has fallen for Hawkmoth’s most clever trick yet. But Lila is quick to warn them that they MUST be careful after all Marionette is a VERY powerful akuma, they cant know for sure the true extent of her terrible powers or when or WHO she might attack next! Lila fears that it will be poor Adrien or perhaps herself again! Insert fake sobs here. The class vow to protect Lila and Adrien from Marionette, and Alya who believes she’s best equipped for this situation since she IS Rena Rouge takes charge of the situation, they decide that no one is allowed to be alone with Marionette and NONE of them are to let the akuma know that they are on to her! They need to play the long game and figure out what her akumatized object is so that they can snatch it and free Marinette from Hawkmoth’s dastardly clutches!

Lila rejoices believing that she’s finally achieved victory, the class now think that Marinette is a dangerous monster and will isolate her, not to mention Lila now believes she can make up any lie she wants about Marinette and that the class will unquestioningly believe her! She goes home with a pep in her step eagerly plotting for all the lies and perks she can get from this newest lie and decides to eat a whole tub of ice cream to celebrate her cleverness, unaware that she’s just signed the ticket for her defeat.

You see the class LOVE Marinette, she’s their friend, and ‘learning’ that she’s been turned into some sort of monstrous extremely clever akuma is both a suprise and none at all. Later on as they all chat in the newly made text group Max points out how it was obvious that Marinette would become the most dangerous and clever akuma shes the smartest person in class besides himself and extremely creative and resourceful. Rose laments about how hurt Marinette must be and how they simply MUST save her as soon as possible. Alix curses Hawkmoth out and claims that the sick freak was probably TARGETING Marinette for awhile now because of how awesome she is. Nino and Kim cry about how their childhood bff needs them now more then ever! And Alya tells them to get ready because they cant abandon Marinette now that she needs them most!

The next day Lila comes to class ready to spin another tale about how the vicious akuma Marionette destroyed her room last night! And while the class do listen and tell Lila that it sucks that happened they seem noticeably... Distracted. When Marinette walks into the room the class practically explodes, Rose and Juleka INSIST that Marinette sit behind them so they can talk! Everyone has some sweet compliment to give to the baker reminding her about how wonderful she is! Lila’s jaw drops open as her classmates practically rush to hug and touch and talk to what they believe is a horrible monstrous Akuma! And it doesnt end their.

Lila asks Alya to hang out at the mall? She cant her and Nino are going to be on ‘Marionette’ surveillance tracking the akuma to see what shes up to and if she might show her akumatized object! Lila decides to try woo Mylene and Ivan into letting her handle their charities ‘finances’? Mylene starts crying about how the charity was Marinette’s idea before she got akumatized and now she might not even remember how amazing it was when shes eventually de-akumatized Lila cant stand hearing them talk about her enemy and gives up her pursuit of the funds. Lila decides to hang out with Kitty Section? They invited Marionette to every show hoping Luka would notice that she’s an akuma and use his amazing intuition to help free poor poor Marinette!

Instead of ostracizing the girl Marinette is now invited to every big event, and is constantly being showered with compliments and love as if the class believes that just loving Marinette enough will be the thing that ‘de-akumatizes’ her. “At least they wont let her anywhere near myself or Adrien.” Lila thinks bitterly as she gets her 5th warning that day that Lila might want to sit out the class going to the movies together with MARIONETTE.

During this time the class has been pulling off various ‘heists’ slowly going through each and every one of Marinette’s belongings to check if its the akumatized object. And I do mean every single belonging. Her sketchbook was ruled out within the first few days same with her signature earrings it was Kim who checked those and it involved a complicated plan involving taking Marinette swimming and having Kim fake a drowning in order to get close enough to ‘Marionette’ to check the studs. Luckily for Tikki, Ondine who was also at the pool decided to save Kim instead and the poor jock got quite flustered when the swimmer performed CPR on him.

Nino and the rest of the boys are the ones tasked with breaking into Marinette’s room while the girl is away on a sleepover with the girls. In order to ‘test’ each object in her room for the source of the akuma. They got a bit too loud and had to make a last minute escape when they heard Tom and Sabine going into fight mode. Poor Nino wasn’t fast enough and was forced to lie through his teeth that he’d been trying to surprise Marinette with a hangout like when they were little kids. [poor kid ended up drinking hot cocoa with Tom and Sabine as they showed off embarrassing baby pictures of Nino and Marinette together]

After about a month or so of shenanigans including a very embarrassing incident involving the entire class accidentally spying on Marinette’s first big date with Luka/Kagami/Felix/Damian [just pick one they are all great ships] and them getting caught red handed thanks to Alix and Kim roughhousing and making a scene at the nice restaurant. And another incident that Alya refers to only as the ‘duck incident’ [Nino can no longer be around birds or feathers] the class is no closer to learning where Marionette’s akumatized object is. And Lila Rossi who thought she’d be bathing in her victory is on the verge of screaming if one more person ignores her!

How does it end? Well maybe the class stage an intervention hoping they can free Marinette with the power of love only for Marinette to fall off of something laughing when she learns what Lila’s big lie was. Maybe Lila finally snaps and screams when she hears the class lament about POOR Marinette for the billionth time. Maybe the class try breaking absolutely everything Marinette owns, Maybe Juleka points out that its kind of weird that Marionette the akuma doesn’t really do... anything? And can change clothes? Can akuma’s do that? No right??? Aren’t their clothes like melded to their body??? Maybe the class finally get Adrien thinking he can ‘fix’ Marinette only for him to very confusedly tell them hes not dating Lila and has never kissed her and what Marinette akumatized??? Maybe The class recruit Luka and Kagami, Marinette’s other friends only for them to have a great laugh at the class before pointing out the literal mountain of things wrong with everything they just said.

Just fun shenanigans and ‘akumatized’ Marinette.

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[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni)

Warnings: dramatics, gaslighting, pining pining pining, drinking, attempted drugging, blacking out, vomiting, Nile and Hitch hook up, did I mention pining, one Greek word (thank you again, @cynnyc .)

It’s nearly ten PM as you climb the steps to the PKA house. The brisk October air makes you pull your jacket tighter around yourself and move toward the door faster. You probably should’ve texted your target first, checked to see if he’s even here, but you’re not about to stand outside and wait for a reply, not when you can just knock and ask a living soul.

 It’s Reiner who answers, looking extremely tired with dark circles under his eyes. You idly wonder if he and the other new kids are being kept awake as another stupid fucking hazing ritual, but you don’t really have the time for small talk. 

 “Erwin here?”

 The blond nods and steps out of the way. “His room. Might already be asleep.”

 Shrugging, you walk inside, mumbling, “Just gonna have to wake his ass up then.”

 Which you do, climbing up to the third story after Reiner tells you which room he’s in now. You knock on the door a couple times and almost feel bad when Erwin answers, clearly rumpled in pajama pants and bedhead. 

 He squints at you, and you snort. “Sleep before ten? You some kinda nerd or somethin’?”

 “What do you want?” He gruffs, voice a little scratchy. 

 You can see part of the room behind him, looks pretty similar to the one from last year. That had been the only time you’d really gotten a close look into his space, and it had not ended well. You hope this time will be different. 

 “I needed to talk to you about something.”

 Erwin scrubs a hand down his face then rests his head against his doorframe. “I’ll take a wild guess and say this is about Mike.”

 You push your lips out in a pout and respond, “Maybe.”

 He lets you into his room, catches you off guard when he asks, “Door open or closed?” 

 “Depends. You gonna come onto me again?”

 He chuckles and shakes his head. “I learned my lesson last time.”

 “You can shut it then.”

 Taking up the chair at his desk, you watch as Erwin just crawls back under his covers and fixes cerulean eyes on you. 

 “Why haven’t you been talking to him?”

 Something in your stomach flips, eyes growing as you splutter, “I haven’t been talking to him? He hasn’t been talking to me!” 

 Erwin frowns. “What? He’s been bitching to me incessantly.”

 “And, I’ve been bitching to Hitch incessantly.”

 Groaning into his pillow, Erwin holds out his hand, and you hear a muffled command, “Give me your phone.”

 You do without hesitation, rattle off the passcode then sit and wait as Erwin scrolls through what you assume to be your settings or contacts. The thought that you should be a little scared crosses your mind—you do have some compromising photos in an unlocked folder—but judging by Erwin’s current mood, he doesn’t seem interested in anything except sleeping. 

 “That motherfucker,” he grunts.

 “What?”

 “You blocked his number.”

 “What?” This time is much louder and panicked. “No, I didn’t! I swear I didn’t.”

 He tosses you the device back and gestures in a ‘see for yourself’ manner. “Someone did.”

 Your blood begins to boil as you stare down at your short list of blocked contacts, Mike’s name right on top.

 “Are you fucking kidding me?” You quickly tap to remedy the problem, hands beginning to shake. “I don’t even know how—”

 “My money’s on the shitty boyfriend,” Erwin mumbles.

 You want to text Mike, but you have no idea what to say. Sorry we haven’t talked in over a month. Zeke figured out my phone password and blocked your number haha. You doubt that would fly.

 If you had just come to Erwin sooner, most of this could have been avoided. You don’t know if you’re more upset at Zeke or at yourself.

 Zeke. Definitely Zeke. That is some wildly possessive behavior. That’s isolation. The idea makes you nauseous. This is just another instance of him showing what you believe to be his true self. Between all the fighting and grudges, you’re at your wit’s end. Just the other day, the two of you had gotten into yet another argument when you happened to get a glance at the Tinder icon in his app list. 

 “Why do you still have that?” You’d asked with a frown. You really hadn’t planned on it turning into an ordeal. 

 “Have what?”

 “Tinder.”

 “What are you talking about?”

 Then, right in front of your eyes, he had deleted the app. You saw it, but that didn’t stop Zeke from looking at you with a straight face and telling you, “I think you’re just confused, babe.”

 That’s when it turned into an ordeal. That’s when you got defensive and incredulous. That’s when he just kept telling you that you were wrong, that you were just seeing things, and after a good thirty minutes once you were nice and high strung, he actually had you halfway convinced. 

 Because he always sounds so sure of himself, always makes it so that his word is law. You had doubted yourself—you’re still doubting yourself. 

 “Jesus, I can’t believe this,” you breathe, leaning back in the rolling chair and staring up at the ceiling. You can believe it, actually, you just hadn’t expected him to sink that low. “What do I even say to Mike?”

 Erwin finally pushes himself into a sitting position and stretches. Seems like he’s just resigning himself to being awake. “Whatever it is, you should probably talk it out in person.”

 “Probably.”

 “Might be a little difficult now, though.”

 Heaving a sigh, you mutter, “Yeah, I assume he's pretty pissed at me.”

 Erwin hums, but his voice comes out a little unsure when he says, “Well, that, but also…”

 You're suddenly sitting straight up. “Also what?”

 Making a face, the man across from you enlightens you to the fact that, “Mike is kind of seeing someone. I think.”

 You blink at him, trying to process what he’s telling you. Mike is… With someone? You feel sick.

 But, you shouldn’t because he’s allowed to branch out. You surely did, and you hurt him in the process. 

 “It, uh… It gets worse.”

 Swallowing, you try to hide the lump in your throat when you rasp, “How?”

 Don’t cry. Do not cry. You have no right to cry. 

 “I’m about ninety-nine percent positive it’s Zeke’s ex.”

 Every muscle in your face suddenly relaxes, but it isn’t in a good way. Instead of frowning, your brow softens into its normal position. You release the tension in your jaw, the teeth that were just clenched falling away from each other as your lips part. Erwin moves in and out of focus as your gaze becomes blurry, hot tears gathering at your waterline, and now you don’t even try to stop them from falling. 

 Fucking Rhi. She had been nothing more than an annoyance before, a peppy little annoyance trying to grab your boyfriend’s attention. But, now… Now, you’re ready to fight. Parking lot brawl, throwing fists and pulling hair, and screeching—you want to destroy her. 

 “Oh.” You sniffle then wipe your nose with the back of your hand. “That’s good. I mean—” a quiet cough, “—that’s good for him. I’m glad.”

 Erwin snorts. “No, you’re not,” his volume rises a bit. “So, don’t pretend like you are. God, why are you guys so bad at this?”

 You let out a humorless laugh and shrug. “‘Cause I have shitty timing, I guess.” You bite your lip and look back to the ceiling, trying not to weep too openly, but your lungs are burning, preventing you from breathing, and your heart is bruising your ribcage, and you think your bones just might shatter inside of your chest. 

 There’s a rustling on the bed, and when you look back at Erwin, you find him laying down again but holding the blankets up in front of him. 

 “Come on.”

 “W-what? Erwin, that is literally the last thing we—”

 “I’m not trying to fuck,” he says, eyes heavy as he stares at you. “You need to relax, and I need to sleep, so just come on."

 You consider for a while, looking from Erwin to the mattress. You’re really not that close, would barely even call him your friend, but you did come to him tonight. You had chosen to confide in him. He makes some pretty questionable decisions sometimes, but you still believe that ultimately he’s a good person. 

 “Fine, but put a shirt on.”

 “Then, grab one. Second drawer. Make sure it’s soft.”

 You roll your eyes but do as you're told, running your hands over a few t-shirts until you find one that he should be pleased enough with. He tugs it on then collapses back on the bed, and you kick your shoes off then slip out of your jacket and under the covers.

 You’re facing him, trying to keep a few inches between yourself and his chest, but as you think about the position you’re in—why you’re in it, the tears start flowing freely again, and you’re holding back little whimpers, shoulders shaking at the effort. Erwin breathes in deeply then uses the arm he isn’t laying on to pull you to him, shushing you as he rubs the space between your shoulder blades with a warm hand. 

 “We’ll get it sorted out,” he promises, voice quiet as he starts to doze. 

 It’s not how you expected to end the night, but you suppose there are worse ways.

*

 Mike learns a lot of information in a very short amount of time. Nile meets him outside of the fitness center to give him the scoop, trying to look casual as he walks, but Mike can tell he's nervous. 

 He starts by asking if Mike has talked to you at all recently, and no, he has not. So, Nile tells him that you broke things off with Zeke and apparently it got messy. 

 "Something about him being a manipulative bastard," Nile waves a hand. 

 "Doesn’t surprise me. Took her long enough."

 You've been hanging around the Pike house again, sometimes by yourself and sometimes with Hitch—"Who's really fucking cute, by the way." Obviously Nile and Marie are in the 'off' portion of their relationship cycle. "And, you would know all this if you would just start coming around again. It's stupid to pay dues and not actually engage with the frat, dude."

 "I've just been busy with school," Mike tells him. It's only a half lie. His senior courses are kind of kicking his ass, but he's also been busying himself with Rhi who is… tolerable. 

 "Whatever. Halloween party is in, like, a week. If you don't show up, I'm gonna be real pissed."

 "I'll be there, Nile."

 "Okay, then lemme prepare you for one more thing."

 Mike stops walking and looks at the smaller man who inhales deeply then blows air out through his teeth. 

 "So, uh, she's hanging around again, right? And, you're not there, so it seems like she's sort of, uh, latched onto…" He makes a face, and Mike leans back. 

 "Don't fucking tell me."

 Nile cringes. "Yeah. I don't think they're fucking or anything. I haven't heard them in his room like I used to hear the two of you."

 "She goes into his room?" Mike has to flex his hand by his side, but the brick wall of the library they've stopped in front of is looking mighty nice. Break a few bones, bleed a little, it'll feel good. 

 "Yeah, but, like, they're nowhere near as close as you and her."

 "How close we used to be. It's been so fucking long since we've even talked, dude. And, any time I try to catch her on campus, the dickbag is with her—"

 "Well, at least you don't have to worry about that anymore."

 "Yeah, now I just have to worry about her fucking my best friend. Fuck, she just—" Mike growls in his throat, contemplates turning to go back to the gym because he needs to get this energy out somehow. "She drives me fucking crazy."

 "Yeah, I know, man. I just didn't want you to be surprised at the party when you see 'em all buddy-buddy."

 "I'm gonna punch him," Mike states. "Just lay him out in front of everyone."

 "Please don't," Nile sounds genuinely worried. "Maybe use the party as a way to, I don't know, talk to your girl? Like an adult?" 

 "Obviously not my girl, and I've been screwing around with Rhi anyway. Maybe it's just time we went our separate ways or whatever." 

 It physically hurts to even suggest, but he's trying to put on a brave face for his friend—act annoyed rather than fucking crushed, but god, he is aching. His stomach has opened up into nothing, his chest feels void of everything that was once inside, and he knows he's being dramatic, but fuck fuck fuck, first Zeke and now Erwin? What is it that Mike doesn't have? What can't he provide you with that they can? Just tell him, and he'll fucking fix it. 

 "Yeah, I think we both know that's not gonna happen. Plus, you do realize Rhi is probably just using you to make Zeke jealous."

 "I'm not fucking stupid, Nile, of course I know that." But, Mike is really tired of his love life revolving around that asshole, like he has to wait for Zeke to call all the shots. "I'm using her as much as she's using me, so—"

 "As a distraction?" 

 Mike lets his head loll to the side, peering down at Nile from the corner of his eyes. "What do you think?" 

 The other man gives him a light punch to the shoulder and once again suggests, "Talk things out. Just pull her aside at the party." 

 It's easier said than done. When Halloween rolls around, it's a little insane. It's too big and too loud with a flashing strobe that hurts Mike’s eyes. There are all sorts of costumes, making it hard to recognize anyone. The jungle juice is a mystery, one Mike doesn't plan on touching but that many people will. He has a feeling that more than a few party-goers are gonna end up sick, probably passing out in various locations of the house. 

 Mike has opted for an easy costume, the tacky tourist complete with his pink Hawaiian shirt, a straw hat, sunglasses, and a fanny pack. It's so awful, it actually made him laugh, but Rhi, clad in a spandex tiger suit, is not nearly as amused. She probably wanted him to go the sexy cop route or something equally as cringey, but Mike just doesn't have it in him tonight. 

 Nile is a shirtless cowboy, Hitch is a Catholic schoolgirl, Gelgar is Freddy Krueger with a pompadour, Reiner is a werewolf, the list goes on and on. Sexy, bloody nurses, superheroes, Harry Potter, and so on. 

 When his eyes land on you for the first time that night, Mike comes close to drooling his drink. Lola Bunny in her skimpy basketball uniform and a rabbit ear headband. Your face is painted, and you're carrying around one of those foam balls kids use to dunk into Fisher Price hoops, and he has no doubt the prop will be lost by the end of the party. 

 Mike thinks back to Spring Break, to you wincing at his movie choice then trying to sleep through it. You had woken up to him flipping through the photo album, then chose to finally open up to him. 

 So, why this costume? Why "torture" yourself like this? 

 And, speaking of torture, you're sticking to Erwin just like Nile said you would. The blond is in a tailored suit, his face painted like a skull. It's both classy and creepy, and Mike hates him for it. In fact, it calls for another drink. 

 Rhi finds him in the kitchen after making her rounds, taking up her former place on Mike's arm as he uses the counter to pop the lid off a fresh bottle. They watch the game of beer pong playing out in front of them, but Rhi doesn't seem content to just sit. 

 She has to stand on her tip-toes and shout into his ear, "Wanna walk around some?" 

 No. He really doesn't, but he can placate her, especially if it means getting laid later tonight. 

 They trek back to the main room, observing the debauchery taking place. People are grinding and stripping to Monster Mash. Several couples are spread out in the chairs or up against the wall getting pretty close to full on exhibitionism. 

 They stop to talk to "Officer" Marie for a while then move on to Nile and Hitch to whom Rhi spills everything she just heard from the busty redhead. They joke with Gelgar and his catch of the day, some of the pledges—Jean, Reiner, and Eren—who are just trying to survive, and then at last… you and Erwin. 

 Mike sees the way your chest rises with a deep breath, how your fingers tighten around the little basketball. Your eyes flit from Rhi to Mike, flashing when Rhi greets you. 

 Oh, you don't like her. 

 "Love the costume," she tells you. "Who are you supposed to be again?" 

 Mike chokes on his drink, and you suck your teeth before replying, "Lola Bunny. The Loony Toon."

 "Oh, is that, like, Bugs Bunny's girlfriend?"

 "Kind of?" You try. 

 Rhi looks to Erwin who visibly cringes when she asks, "Why aren't you dressed as Bugs then?" 

 Mike wants to turn around, to put as much distance between all of you as possible. 

 Erwin clears his throat. "Because that would be a couple's costume, and we're not…"

 Mike knows his expression is skeptical, cold even, and when he settles it on you, you give him a little shake of your head that he doesn't really believe. 

 "Oh, alright," Rhi concedes only to chime, "'Cause I heard—"

 "Wrong," Erwin cuts her off. "You heard wrong, Rhi." A hard, blue stare lands on Mike, unforgiving when he tells him, "I think it's time you two talked."

 "I don't think that's really—"

 "Oh, fuck," your swear gets everyone's attention, and Mike takes in the shock written all over your face then follows your line of sight to the entry way where Zeke god damn Jaeger is making his way through the crowd. 

 "What the hell is he doing here?" Erwin spits. 

 "You and Nile decided this should be an open party, dumbass," Mike reminds him with a roll of his eyes. 

 "Oh, so we're name-calling now? Jesus Mike, grow up. You're just assuming shit!" As he rants, Erwin takes hold of one of your arms and pulls you behind him, snatching the furry headband from you so the ears don't stick out. 

 For a split second, Mike thinks he's trying to protect you from him, but then he nods to bring Mike's attention to the approaching figure behind him, and Mike understands. 

 He turns his body to face Zeke who's walking over, fragmented by the strobe, his icy eyes piercing straight through his glasses. Mike, despite his anger toward you, feels the primal urge to protect you. 

 "The fuck do you want, Jaeger?" 

 "Woah, calm down, bud. Just looking for a brat—about yea high, spreads her legs for any athlete she comes in contact with. You guys seen her?" 

 Mike steps toward him, but he's stopped by a hand that fists in the back of his shirt. 

 "Ah, there she is," Zeke smirks, and Mike looks over his shoulder to see you now in front of Erwin with your fingers clutching the pink material across his back. 

 "He's not worth it, Mike."

 Mike thinks he is, though. He feels like he keeps getting whiplash, going back and forth between who he wants to hit at any given moment because it seems to change by the second.

 He's just been so incredibly frustrated for the past few months. Lacrosse doesn't help, and  the gym doesn't help, and fucking Rhi doesn't help. Mike has just been stewing, letting everything fester during the radio silence between the two of you. He's mad at so many people including himself, and all he wants to do is shove his way out of this stupid fucking party and take off his stupid fucking fanny pack and be alone in his apartment under his dumb fairy lights. 

 He shrugs out of your grip, figures the best thing he can do right now is get away from all of you. Zeke stumbles when Mike shoulders into him forcefully. He's not even a little surprised when Rhi doesn't follow him, choosing to vie for Zeke's attention instead. 

 It doesn't matter. All that matters is that Mike gets another drink in him. 

 He tries not to watch the way the heated conversation turns out, the way you bow up to Zeke and Erwin has to once again put himself in between you and the other blond. He tries not to smile at the fire in your eyes, that blaze he's seen so many times (usually when you're annoyed at him), and yes, there's that pain again, barely overshadowing Mike's anger. 

 You yell something at Zeke. He yells back. Erwin feels the need to add his own opinion, but the music is too loud for Mike to be able to make any of it out. Whatever is shouted makes Zeke huff and walk away. Rhi prances after him, and Mike resigns himself to the fact that he probably will not be fucking her after this shit show. He could always find someone else, but that takes effort (not much, but still), and then they usually get clingy afterward, and he just can't be bothered with all that right now. Mike can't be bothered with anything right now. 

 So he drinks. 

 He keeps an eye on Zeke who doesn't actually leave the party, and he drinks. He stares at you from across the room, bunny ears back in place, and he drinks. Somewhere between Boom and Beer Pong, he loses the fanny pack, looks down at some point and finds that it's just no longer there. All he had in there was a lighter and a couple condoms, so he isn't too broken up about it, but he does wonder—

 Mike isn't sure what makes him look over at the counter where all the different drinks are set out, but he does, and it's just in time to see Eren hunching over the bowl of jungle juice like some shady motherfucker, and when Mike makes his way over, world spinning just a little bit, he sees the younger Jaeger brother emptying a little plastic bag of green pills into the punch. 

 "What the fu—" Mike has him by the collar before he can even finish his own question, tosses the kid away from the counter so that he actually falls to the floor. It causes a few people to hop out of the way, their drinks sloshing and spilling on the tile. "What the fuck are you doing?" 

 Eren looks up at Mike with wide, panicked eyes, like he's scared and waiting for someone to save him. 

 "I—I don't know what you think you saw, man—"

 "I know exactly what I saw, you little creep!" 

 Everyone in the kitchen is looking at the two of them as more people trickle in. 

 "What even was that? You trying to roofie the whole fucking party or something?" 

 "No!" 

 "Just one person, then? That one special girl," Mike hisses.

 He walks back to the counter and grabs the large bowl of juice, carrying it over to Eren who's still on the ground. The kid covers his face just in time for Mike to empty the contents over his head, drenching him so that red drips from his hair and trickles down his arms. 

 "Drink up, bitch," Mike snarls before throwing the bowl so that it bounces off Eren's head. 

 Naturally, a bigger crowd has gathered, and Nile shoves his way through, shouting over the music, "What is happening?" 

 Mike leans over to yell in his ear, "Saw him pouring pills into the punch."

 "Are you serious?" 

 Mike nods but steps away when Eren pushes himself off the wet floor and nearly throws himself at Nile. 

 "I didn't do it! I don't know what the fuck he's talking about!" 

 Nile arm-bars Mike when he tries to move toward the little twerp, lips pulling back from his teeth because it has been a shitty night. A shitty week. Shitty month. And, now his fury has shifted yet again. 

 "Did anyone else see it, Mike?" Nile asks. 

 "Probably not since everyone is fucked up—"

 "Including you."

 Mike looks over at his friend in genuine surprise because it's starting to sound like Nile doesn't believe him. 

 "Why the fuck would I lie about something like this?" 

 "Maybe because he's Zeke's brother," Nile suggests. 

 Mike is heated. He can feel the blood underneath his skin cooking his god damn insides, frying his brain so that all he can think about is throwing a punch or two (or twenty). 

 Jaw sliding, Mike shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath to steady himself, to stop his hands from shaking as he tries to figure out when his friends started looking at him as some unhinged freak. 

 "What are you doing—the fu—dude, stop!"

 Opening his eyes again, Mike sees that Gelgar has inserted himself into the situation and has Eren pinned against the counter as he shoves his hands in every one of his pockets. He's growling something at the younger man, keeps shoving his face down against the linoleum any time Eren squirms, and after about a minute of people watching and gasping and making crude remarks about the position the two are in, Gelgar straightens up with a plastic bag identical to the one Mike saw Eren emptying into the jungle juice. 

 "It's just Adderall, I swear!"

 Gelgar scoffs. "This is definitely not Adderall. Believe me, I'd know." He tosses the pills to Nile who takes a long look at them before glaring at Eren. 

 "Get the fuck out before I call the cops."

 He should call them anyway, Mike thinks, but he understands Nile's hesitance. There's a lot going on at the party—underage drinking, party drugs in various rooms, etc. Eren wouldn't be the only one taken into custody if the police showed up. 

 Another voice rings out, asking the same question everyone else has, "What the hell is going on?" and Mike comes close to hurling the closest bottle at Zeke as he makes his way to his brother. "Why are you…" He gestures nebulously as his eyebrows pull together. Rhi is close behind him, and further still, you and Erwin are peeking into the kitchen. 

 "They think I drugged the jungle juice!" Eren looks at Zeke with puppy eyes that probably worked when he was a kid, might still work judging by the way the blond whirls around to face Mike and Nile. 

 "Have any proof, or are you just trying to—"

 "Pipe down, Jaeger," Nile cuts him off, holding up the bag and explaining, "Mike saw him dropping these in the punch."

 Zeke is silent for a few solid seconds before rounding on his brother again and grabbing him by the shirt right where Mike had previously held him, and everyone watches in rapt attention as he steers Eren through the crowd, shouting at him the entire time. 

 Having both of them leave is a relief, but Mike is a little disappointed that he didn't get to fight either of them. It would have been nice to feel a nose break under his fist, but he supposed it's better this way. 

 "Hey, thanks for catching that, dude," Nile says, slapping Mike's back. 

 It doesn't make him feel good. If anything, it pisses him off. Mike would understand if his friend had been skeptical of one of the pledges or second years making the accusation he had, but Nile is one of his best friends. They were inducted at the same time, were hazed side by side. Mike never would have thought Nile had such a low opinion of him, that he’d believe Mike’s little broken heart would cloud his judgement to the point of slandering someone without cause. 

 "Whatever," he shrugs before grabbing another drink. 

 He should just go back home. He isn't having a good time. He's angry at just about everyone he looks at. When Rhi decides he's worth her time again, Mike actually tells her to fuck off. He's lost the accessories to his costume, and he's about to lose his mind. 

 It's getting late. Mike isn't sure how late because as the night progresses, he gets steadily inebriated. He tries to avoid anyone and everyone in his fraternity, hanging out with people he knows from lacrosse or his classes instead. They play a few drinking games, take body shots off some sorority girls (or maybe it's the same one, he can't tell anymore). The music becomes bearable, and the strobe light stops hurting his head, and eventually, Mike just… forgets. 

 He forgets about Nile's lack of faith. He forgets about the fuckhead Jaeger brothers. He forgets about you and Erwin walking around and laughing together oh, ha ha we're so close now. He is finally spared from all of his negative thoughts. 

 Mostly because somewhere between shot number seven and beer number who knows what, Mike pukes into a plant (maybe?) and blacks out.

 *

 "God dammit. Erwin," you tug on his jacket sleeve and point to the corner that is home to a fake ficus that Mike is currently throwing up in. 

 Erwin groans, "Oh, Jesus Christ," and starts making his way over with you hot on his heels. 

 A few people are making faces as they glance at Mike, moving away as he coughs, straightens, then bends over again. 

 "Mike, come on, buddy," Erwin pats his back, waiting for Mike to pause in his retching so that he can duck under his arm and support him. "Gotta get you to a bathroom."

 "No bath," Mike snorts. "No green there, no…"

 You take a place on his other side, not that you can help much in getting him down the hall and in one of the downstairs restrooms, but you at least support his other arm and steer him in the right direction. 

 "Why is he talking about green?" Erwin grumbles as you both lower Mike to the tiled floor in front of the toilet where he promptly pukes again. 

 "The leaves maybe? I don't know, dude. Just…" You cringe as you notice the way Mike's shaggy hair hangs down into the toilet bowl, subject to all kinds of splash back. "Do you have a hair tie on you?" 

 "Literally why in the fuck would I have a hair tie on me?" Erwin asks incredulously, and you laugh because a couple weeks ago, he never would have used that word in this context since it's wrong, but the more you spend time with him, the more he picks up on your vernacular, and that really doesn't matter right now because—

 "Water," Mike croaks, voice echoing off the ceramic. 

 "I don't think you'll be able to drink any right this second, man," Erwin tells him, squatting beside him. 

 Mike shakes his head. "Wanna feel—feel water. Cold."

 "He sounds like a fucking caveman," you snicker. 

 You're really just trying to stay calm, masking the sick feeling in your stomach with amusement, but you've been watching Mike all night as he downed beer after beer, mixing various liquors as he took shots and licked salt off some chick's stomach. You figured he would get sick, but there wasn't really much you could do about it. He had made it pretty clear he isn’t interested in speaking to you. Still, you had purposely remained mostly sober just in case something like this happened (also because you make bad decisions when you get fucked up at frat parties).

 "Yeah, he definitely won't remember any of this."

 "Waterrr," Mike tries again, and you look at the way his arm is dangling over the side of the tub, the faucet on the opposite side, and glance at Erwin at a loss. 

 He shrugs, eyes darting around until he sees the plastic cup upside down on the shower rack. He grabs it, turns the water on and fills the cup, then dumps it over Mike's hand. 

 Mike groans, slowly wriggles his fingers under the stream, and drawls, "Thaaaank."

 You shake your head and motion for the cup, talk loud enough to be heard over the faucet, "I can handle this. You go back outside."

 "What? No."

 "There's no reason both of us have to be in here. He's just gonna puke his guts out for a few hours and then pass out." 

 Erwin doesn't seem sold on the idea. 

 "Come on. You've gotta go back. You're vice president or whatever."

 "So?" 

 "Erwin."

 He stares at you for a while then deflates. "Fine. Do you have your phone on you?" 

 "Always." You gesture to the elastic waistband of your shorts, phone pressed to your hip as it hangs on the inside of the material.

 "Text me if you need help, alright?" 

 "You got it, boss."

 He leaves just in time for Mike to violently retch into the toilet, one hand clutching the bowl as his spine curves. You fill the cup back up, pour it over his hand once again, and repeat the action over… and over… and over.

 His face and hair are gonna be a mess, probably his shirt too which is actually a blessing because you'll finally have a legitimate reason to burn it. Pepto Bismol pink and sketched palm trees stare at you as you sit on the edge of the tub, and all you can think of is the first time you saw Mike wearing the terrible shirt, how that had ended up, how you left with it the following morning. 

 How had the two of you gone from that to this? Sure, you weren't super fond of him at the beginning of it all, but he grew on you. A lot. He's your best fucking friend. Through the last couple months, through this weird fight you're having, he is your best friend. It's why you're here right now taking care of his drunk ass. 

 It'll pass. This phase will pass, and you'll make up, and you'll get your chance to be honest with him, to tell him how you feel about him. It may have taken you a little too long to arrive at your destination, so to speak, but better late than never. Soon, you'll both be able to look back on this and laugh. 

 People knock on the door here and there, and you scream at them to go away, eventually getting tired of it and just clicking the lock into place. 

 Any time you stop pouring water over his hand, Mike whines and attempts to say something, choppy words that don't make a ton of sense. You wonder if you need to call an ambulance, look for the signs of alcohol poisoning, but he doesn't feel cold, his breathing is even between bouts of vomiting, and his arms aren't curling in that tell-tale way. 

 More than likely, he just made himself sick. He knows better, too. He's been partying for a long enough time to be well aware of the mixing rules. Beer before liquor and all that shit. He may have just not cared tonight, though. From what Erwin has told you, Mike has just been in a generally bad mood for a while now (and Erwin has not tried to be subtle about why). He's barely around the Pike house anymore, he keeps getting called for personal fouls in lacrosse, and he's sleeping with Rhi which is nobody's business but is also strange considering her history—some kind of mutualistic symbiotic relationship that nobody is a real fan of. 

 Not my circus, not my monkeys, you think to yourself, emptying another cup from your place on the floor now. The ceramic was starting to hurt your ass, and you know your arm will probably be a little sore tomorrow, or later today since it's nearing three. 

 Fatigue is beginning to set in, and you know Mike is exhausted because he keeps dozing off on the toilet seat so that you have to nudge him back awake. Until he can speak in mostly coherent sentences, he's not allowed to sleep. 

 Sitting in the bathroom gives you ample amount of time to think. You go over some mental flashcards for a while, notes you took with the help of Mike's magic textbook. Then you think about going to your mom's for Thanksgiving and how much you aren't looking forward to it. Then you think about Zeke showing up only to have to escort his shady brother from the house. God, you had not been happy to see him. You'd been a little afraid, if you're being honest. 

 After figuring out that he had, in fact, blocked Mike's number on your phone, you had stomped into his apartment and initiated a screaming match. You got loud, he got louder, called you a stupid bitch and punched a hole in the drywall. You had decided that was a pretty good time to leave, both the apartment and the relationship. He's been lurking on campus around your most frequented spots—the science building, the library, but you've been doing a good job of camouflaging yourself in groups of other students. Even if he can see you, he can't do much about it. 

 You've thought about reporting him to campus police, but you know nothing will come of it. The golden boy can do no wrong. It's why you've been spending so much time at the PKA house again. You know most of them have your back, and you are absolutely not above asking any of them to walk somewhere with you to fend off your angry ex. 

 You can't wrap your head around what his fucking deal is. Surely he didn't treat Rhi like this after they split. There's no way she would still be so infatuated with him if he had. Is it just because you're the one who dumped him? He had to have seen it coming once you started putting the pieces together, the way he constantly tried to make you feel guilty, isolating you from your friends, invading the privacy of your phone to not only block Mike but also to turn your fucking location on so he could track you (you had found that out after that first trip back to the frat house to talk with Erwin. It had not been pretty).

 It's hard to believe you put up with it for as long as you did. It was only five months, but that's still five months too long. 

 Mike is quiet for several minutes, and you sigh when you see that his eyes are closed once again. He makes a noise of displeasure when you use your foot to gently shake him, grumbling, "Sto-o-op."

 "Nope. Gotta stay awake, Miche. Can't have you fallin' into a coma or something'."

 "Nooo. No Miche."

 "Yes, Miche," you laugh. 

 He scrunches his face up, shakes his head, but the motion seems to make him sick again. 

 When he finishes gagging into the toilet, he lets out a deep, "Gu-uuh," then sniffs. "No Miche. Jus' she—she—...Jus' her."

 You can figure out the rest, but you can't decide if you want to smile or cry. Only you can call him that. Well, you and his mom. You miss her. And his dad. And Scout. You hope to see them again. 

 "Okay. Just Mike then."

 He hums in confirmation then shakes his hand in the tub so that you'll douse it once again. 

 "You're a needy drunk, you know that?" 

 Mike doesn't respond to that, just takes a few deep breaths as his eyes close yet again. 

 "Sleep now," he mumbles. 

 "No, no sleep now."

 "Sleep now."

 "Oh my fucking god."

 His mouth drops open a little, and the first thing you think to do is splash him in the face with the cup of water. 

 He spits and splutters but doesn't shift much, still wrapped around the toilet. You try not to look inside when you stand and reach to flush what's already gathered, trying to shield some of Mike's face from any flying droplets. Then you wash your hands and sit back down. You figure you'll be here for at least another couple of hours. The sun will be coming up soon. Thank god it's a Saturday. 

 Both Erwin and Nile knock on the door for an update, and you yell that you're okay. Mike isn't throwing up as often, and when he does, nothing is coming up anymore. He's gonna be in a world of pain when he returns to his normal self. 

 So fucking stupid. He's so fucking stupid. 

 He mutters nonsense on and off. Sometimes you can translate what he's trying to say, but other times not so much. 

 "President… dumb boyyy."

 "Hy-poc-risy an' jealous… Hypocrite… I…"

 "Hand… wanna hold…" but when you grab it, he just gurgles, "Waterrr." 

 There's really no pleasing him. 

 "Why-y-y… dick… Erwin."

 "Volcano books… n' space jam… come an' sam… an'... to the jam."

 You laugh too loudly, and Mike cringes at the noise, but the corner of his mouth still lifts. You don't think he knows what he's doing or saying yet—isn't downloading any new memories—it doesn't matter because you will remember this for the both of you. 

 "You're fucking ridiculous."

 Mike pushes himself back from the toilet to sit against the wall, hissing and clumsily rubbing his chest. His shirt is wet and disgusting, and he must know on some level because he says, "Shower," and starts pulling himself over the tub. 

 "Jesus Christ, Mike."

 He's too tall, dangling an arm and a leg over the side and sinking lower. 

 "Water, pleeeease."

 He apparently isn't aware of the faucet that is still on. Whoever has to pay these bills… You feel sorry for them. 

 "No, dude. I am not letting you drown."

 Mike fucking giggles, "Lifeguard," then tries to take his shirt off. He doesn't have the motor skills to handle buttons and looks to be confused by them anyway, so his next solution is to just rip the material down the middle. 

 "Yeah, okay, I guess that works."

 The showerhead is turned on, and you sit on the edge of the tub again, shivering when the cool spray blows toward you while keeping an eye on Mike. Reaching over, you turn the temperature up a little, knowing that the alcohol has dropped his body temperature some. You're almost tempted to slide under the water with him, but there's no room, and you're not about to just make yourself comfortable on top of him.

 So, you just sit and stare and think about how tired you are. Physically and mentally and spiritually tired. You just need some time to not exist—just a few days. It feels like this semester has been nothing but drama so far, and it is exhausting. Maybe that's why Mike did this to himself. Maybe he just needed to not exist. 

 He starts to sit up a little in the tub, but his hand falters and sends him sliding back down. "Fuck."

 Not caring about getting wet at this point, you simply stand up between his spread legs, the shower drenching you immediately, and grab his hands to tug him upright. 

 "ευχαριστώ."

 "Come again?"

 "Means thanks," he mumbles, slumping forward. 

 You think of his family again, how he and his mother had just fallen into Greek as soon as you'd stepped into the house, leaving you surprised and impressed and warm in several different ways. 

 Squatting, you tilt your head to catch his half-lidded gaze. 

 "You back with me yet?" It's been nearly four hours—Fuck, why is there music playing still—but he might need more time. 

 "Dunno."

 "Can you tell who I am?" 

 Mike does his best to roll his eyes. "'m drunk, not a amnes—amnesic—"

 "Amnesiac," you supply with a smirk. Smartass.

 "That," he nods, pointing at you with a finger gun. 

 He can actually understand you now, so that's good, don't have to worry about him dying anymore since he's making progress. 

 Opening his mouth, Mike catches some water in it, swishes and spits. You expect him to tell you that you can leave. He can take care of himself, doesn't want to see you, all manner of hurtful things he has every reason to feel. 

 Instead, he blinks at you, extends his arms, and makes grabby hands. 

 "Can I help you?" 

 He doesn't say anything, just keeps reaching for you. He could grab you without issue. His fingers are already brushing your knees, but he either doesn't notice or wants to wait for you. 

 "Mike, I can't get any closer," you laugh. 

 Switching tactics, he pats his chest. 

 "Oh, no. I am but about to put myself in the line of vom just 'cause you wanna cuddle or some shit."

 Truthfully, you would also like to cuddle, to feel Mike's body against yours again, trace your fingers over his skin and listen to his heartbeat, but…

 Not like this. 

 "Please. No more vom. Promise."

 "I don't think you're in a state to make promises like that."

 He says your name followed by one more, "Please," and you give in, letting out a long breath and grunting as you find a way to lay between his legs with your head on the lower part of his sternum. You're curled a little awkwardly, one foot up against the ceramic while the other is curled beneath you. It is not by any means a comfortable position, but it's what Mike wants. 

 A few months ago, laying like this would inevitably lead to other things. Talking and joking would lead to giggling, maybe some well aimed prods to your ribs. You would bite in retaliation, his shoulder or, if the angle was right, his nipple, until he pulled you up further to sit in his lap, hot mouth finding yours, and so on and so forth. 

 This is different on every possible level. Neither of you are speaking. Your hands are unmoving on each other's bodies. There's no heat save for the water that's pouring down on both of you, plastering your silky costume to your skin. 

 Still, it's enough to lull you into a drowsy state, the ache in your eyes urging you to close them, but as soon as you do, Mike speaks. 

 "'m mad at you."

 Your stomach drops. His words don't come as a surprise, but they still sting. 

 "I know," you sigh. "I'm mad at me too."

 Your head moves with his chest, a gentle up and down that could—and has—put you to sleep. 

 "Still love you."

 You bite your lip, fingers lightly digging into Mike's warm skin as you remind yourself that he's drunk, and he hates you, and he probably won't remember any of this when he wakes up anyway. There's no reason to get emotional over it. No reason. 

 "I love you too, Miche."

 Silence closes in around you once more. You drift in and out for about half an hour until a loud knock jolts you awake. 

 You scramble off of Mike and hop to the door, leaving puddles and drops behind you. Both Nile and Erwin look panicked in the hallway, the shorter man nearly shouting, "Is he fucking dead in there?" 

 "Not deeeead," Mike calls from the tub. 

 Erwin peers over your shoulder at him, then at you, then takes on a disappointed expression. "You didn't. Come on, he's so drunk."

 "What do you—" You frown as you piece together his implication, then squawk and shove Erwin with two wet hands. "I didn't fuck him, you perv! What is wrong with you?" 

 He chuckles and bats away your hands. "I never know with you two! You can't blame me!" 

 "You're disgusting."

 "Look who's talking. Have you seen yourself in the mirror?" Erwin raises his eyebrows. "Less bunny and more… I don't know, ghoul?"

 God, you had completely forgotten about the face paint. 

 "Shut up, yours isn't much better." His black and white paint is smeared in several places like someone ran their fingers through it. The collar of his shirt is stained, and his hair is tousled. You can't tell if it's the result of getting frisky or falling asleep. 

 "Stop flirting in front of meeee," Mike whines loudly, sitting up and pushing the shower knob a little too hard to shut the water off. 

 "We're not—" You and Erwin start at the same time.

 Nile interrupts with a drawn out, unconvinced little note and informs both of you, "You guys get a little flirty sometimes. Sorry to break it to you."

 You frown at the blond and he frowns back, then you both frown at Nile who shrugs. "I'm just saying. There's a reason people are thinking things."

 It's not important, and you'd rather not dwell on it because you know the truth, and Erwin knows the truth, and Mike will if he'll just fucking listen, but he's fucked up right now, so that's a problem for another day. 

 "Whatever, we'll work on it, but for now…" You watch as Mike tries and fails to pull himself out of the tub. 

 "He looks like the girl from The Ring," Erwin snorts. 

 "Yeah, if she was giant. And, a guy," you add. 

 Wet hair is hanging over Mike's eyes, still sopping wet and dripping. He's all awkward angles as he hoists himself up, kicking a leg over and swearing. 

 "We should probably help him," Nile says, fighting his own smile. 

 "Probably."

 Between the three of you, you manage to transport Mike from the bathroom to Erwin's room on the third fucking floor which is no easy feat. Nile waits for his friend to be dumped onto the mattress, then announces that Hitch is waiting for him to come back to bed. You don't know how long that will last, but your friend falling into the same frat boy trap you did is mildly hilarious. 

 It leaves you and Erwin to make Mike comfortable. You wrap his head in a towel you found poking out of the hamper, murmur, "Hope this doesn't have anything gross on it," to which Erwin responds with an unamused look. 

 You peel the ruined, tacky shirt from Mike’s shoulders and toss it into a corner but you let Erwin take care of the rest. You've seen everything Mike has to offer, but that doesn't stop you from feeling weird about seeing his dick when he can't really stop you. So, like Mike did last year when he spilled water on your shirt, you turn your back to allow him some privacy. 

 There's some rustling and grunting, but when Erwin tells you it's safe, you look to find Mike in a pair of gym shorts, hair still wrapped, looking more disgruntled than you've ever seen him. 

 "'m still wet."

 "You sure are, big guy," Erwin agrees, slowly guiding him to lay down on his side and explaining, "You need to sleep like this, alright? Otherwise you might choke and die."

 "Erwin!" You throw your hands up in the air. "Why would you even—?"

 "Know how it works, dumb… butt."

 "Oh, dumb butt. That's a good one," Erwin grins. "Very creative."

 "Don't panotrize me!" 

 You have to cover your mouth to keep from cackling, and Erwin shakes his head, corrects, "Patronize, Mike. Patronize."

 "That's what I said!" 

 It takes a while to get him relaxed again. Apparently, Mike's favorite thing to do while drunk is run his mouth to Erwin, so while he's busy dealing with that, you raid Erwin's closet for a shirt and then his dresser for boxers. Once you are mostly dry, you snatch the towel from Mike's hair to wipe your face and toss it away, then step up onto the bed near the pillows, urging Mike to shift so that you can sit against the headboard. 

 He immediately rests his stubbled cheek on one of your thighs, then wraps both arms around the other, his fingers melting into the fat just below your ass as he grunts, "Mine."

 "All yours, buddy," Erwin assures with a grin before glancing at you. "I'm gonna pass out in the chair—" he gestures to the one in the corner of the room, "—if you need me for anything, just wake me up, okay?" 

 "Yeah, thanks." Then, "Hey, Erwin?" He hums in response. "Don't tell him about tonight, like, me staying with him."

 "Why?" 

 "I don't want him to stress out about what he may have said or done. 'Cause I know he will."

 "Whatever you say," Erwin shrugs, collapsing in the chair without even changing or washing his face. All three of you are gonna look like characters from a horror movie whenever you wake up, and the thought makes you smirk as you card your fingers through Mike's damp hair. 

 It's getting longer. He could probably put it up if he wanted to. He's been letting his beard grow a little too. You aren't sure if it's laziness or just trying a slightly different look, but whatever the case, it's hot. 

 He keeps your leg clutched tightly to him like some kind of stuffed animal until he drifts off to sleep. It's nearing five, and you know you probably won't get any quality rest while you're here, so you figure you'll just doze for a while until you can safely extract yourself from Mike's grip. He probably won't appreciate waking up like this anyway. No matter what he's said to you and Erwin—declarations and staked claims—it'll all be worthless in just a few hours. 

 A symphony of snores plays through the room, Erwin splayed out in his chair like he's passed out in a cheap Vegas hotel while Mike drools on your thigh, and if it was anyone else, you'd be disgusted and shove him away, but since it’s Mike, it’s weirdly endearing. He can slobber on you all he wants, it won’t bother you in the slightest. 

 Eventually, the sun shining through the window becomes too bright for you to even fall into a light sleep, so just as you planned, you gently untangle yourself from Mike, pausing when he grunts and frowns, but when he doesn’t stir any more than that, you manage to slip out of the bed. 

 Grabbing your phone and costume, still a little wet and cold because of it, you leave as quietly as you can. Your shoes are still in the downstairs bathroom along with Mike’s shirt, and you have a legitimate mental debate over whether you really should just toss it, but as much as you hate it, you decide against it. 

 You have to step over several bodies to get to the front door, more than usual which is concerning since the punch Eren spiked was thrown out (or really, thrown all over him), but you’re able to make it out without tripping.

 The drive to your dorm feels too long, sun beaming right into your itchy eyes the entire way. You nearly cry in relief when you finally fall onto your mattress, already well aware that most, if not all, of your day will be spent under the covers. You’re more than fine with it, allowing yourself to just not exist for several hours exactly how you wanted to.

[jaeminscoffee]

Enough. (m.)

Pairing- Jung Jaehyun x reader

Genre- Smut, Fluff towards the end.

Word count - 3k

Warnings- Harddom!Jaehyun, Sub!reader,Rough sex (are we shocked), manhandling, degradation, choking, overstimulation, strong language, hair pulling, spanking, slight size kink, dirty talking, Jaehyun is pissed.

(just realised this is the longest warning list I've made so like, buckle up, you're up for a really messy long ass ride)

Summary- Jaehyun had had enough of your behavior.

(Minors kindly try not to interact with my blogs!)

Jaehyun's life has been going at a very fast pace with the ongoing promotion of an ordeal according to you. 

Don't take it the wrong way, you were extremely happy that your boyfriend's getting promoted, but he's so caught up with it that you get the minimal attention from his side. Or so you think. 

Jaehyun is an extremely kind lad, but is an extreme disciplinarian. He is also highly patient, which you take a little too much advantage of. 

Take for example this one time the past week, Jaehyun had left early for a really important meeting when you'd decided to spam him with pictures, well not so moral. He wouldn't have minded if it was when he was in his cabin, but thinking it would've been something important seeing how many messages he was getting, he opened your texts, a picture of you in his favourite pair of lingerie took up it's place on his screen, and his fucking colleague got a glimpse of it. 

Strike one. 

Then came this time when he was busy completing a very crucial project, you texted him in bold "I'm in trouble' making Jaehyun's heart jump right up his throat. When he'd called you the very second, all he heard right after you had picked up the call was you whimpering, gasping his name slowly. You were touching yourself without his permission. 

Strike two. 

He could deal with all of that, stuffing the madness deep within him to not give you what you want, wanting to show you that your petty ways of grabbing his attention won't work on him. That just riled you up more. It got you even worked up seeing him walk in and out of the house with nothing but content on his face, no matter what you'd do. Want to scream at him? Well go ahead, Hm, silent treatment? Nah. Nagging should do the work, right? Wrong.

It's when he arrived home, all happy with the news he'd received at work when you decided to act up. 

"I'm home!" Jaehyun screamed from the entrance, loosening his tie, making his way towards where you were, the bedroom. 

"Babe! I've got good news--!" he got cut off, by you slamming yourself right onto him, holding him by the wall beside your bedroom door. 

"Have you been ignoring me?" you ask, voice gruff. Jaehyun's face seemed to contort, pondering when he'd done so. 

"No?" He answered, mostly questioning himself. You huff out, turning towards the side as the neediness from being lonely and untouched for over weeks got the best of you. You look at him, dead in the eyes, "Yes you did. You picked up none of my calls.-" he cut you off with his reasoning "I was in a meeting baby-" you cut him off this time, "And you ignored each one of my texts. You saw them, but didn't bother replying." 

Jaehyun let his eyes roam around your figure, draped in his black shirt, hair left free, face red from anger, chest heaving. He smiled knowingly. 

"I was busy, now would you be an absolute sweetheart and make me something while I go freshen up?" he ended with a hum, bending down to place a peck on your lips. 

"No." you reply, backing away from his body, walking backwards as you grip at the hem of your shirt, "No?" Jaehyun replied, now standing comfortably by the wall you'd shoved him onto with his arms folded over his chest. 

"No." you confirm, "Alright suit yourself." he shrugged, still standing there to see what you've got up your sleeves as you proceed to walk backwards in the direction of your closet. 

"I'm going over to Johnny's. At least he'd pay me more attention." you mumbled the last part, wantedly a little louder for him to hear. 

Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows, he'd just gotten home. "And why would you do that?" he asked, stepping away from the wall, taking one small step towards you. "Because he knows how to give me attention and when." you reply loud and clear. Jaehyun visibly stiffened. 

You and Johnny had a history, you met Jaehyun through him, in fact. You guys were what your friends called friends with benefits. You'd cut off those ties and resorted to being best friends after getting into a relationship, of course. But Jaehyun always seemed hesitant to let you be alone with Johnny, but still gave you the freedom to do so. 

"What did you just say?" his voice gravelly as he took another step towards you. Jaehyun's sudden shift of demeanor makes you flinch the slightest. "I said, he knows how to give me attention and when, better than you for that matter."

Now that was strike three. 

Jaehyun's eyes darkened, as his built figure took long, fast strides towards you, scaring you a little, knowing you'd crossed the line. He stopped just an inch in front of you making you crane your neck to look at him, him lowering himself to be eye level with you. 

"What are you trying to get on, Y/n." Jaehyun asked, the pent up frustration of over time finally getting to him, gripping your shoulders in a tight hold making you hiss under your breath. 

Clearing your throat, you look down, then back up to his eyes, "Literally nothing. All I said was I'm going out to Johnnys" you stare at him with the same intensity his gaze held. Jaehyun's eyes narrowed, "Give me the exact reason." he asked, voice multiple octaves low. "Exact reason?" he hummed, "Well because my boyfriend won't fucking touch me so i have to seek help from my fuck buddy. There, happy?" 

You blink and next second you feel yourself being thrown down onto the sheets, earning a short gasp from your mouth. "Starting to whore around again, huh?" he spoke through gritted teeth, stripping out of his work suit, his biceps bulging as he removed his tie, his wrist watch, discarding only the watch by the side table, tie still in hand. 

"Well, whores get treated like whores." Jaehyun looked at you the way one would look at their prey. You whimper, his words, his aura, his voice all going straight to your core, sending shocks all throughout your body. "Strip." he ordered, standing tall, tie wrapped around his palm, arms folded over his chest, shifting his weight from one leg to another, body still adorning his white formal shirt and the black office pants, shirt tucked in making him look ethereal. 

You immediately comply, having waited for this all about the week, the only real material to remove being his shirt that had lifted up your thigh from how he'd thrown you onto the bed. 

You sit on your knees waiting for his next command. Jaehyun let out a throaty chuckle at your innocent gaze. He walked over towards the edge of the bed, gesturing with his hands for you to come over. You crawl over to him, sitting on your knees once again. You see him unwrap the tie and hold it in one hand, the other reaching out, "Give me your hands." he said in a throaty voice. You hesitate to do so, not wanting to be snatched of your freedom to touch him. 

You look at him with the most appealing, seductive look you could muster, trying to change his mind, all Jaehyun did was stare at you, boredom visible in his eyes. He waited, raising his eyebrows as you looked down at your hands that were resting on the bare flesh of your thigh. Jaehyun clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed, he took hold of your hands in a tight grip, "I don't like repeating myself, baby" he fumed, placing the silk clothing around your wrist, wrapping it multiple time before tying a knot tight enough to leave a bruise, making you wince, "And you know that." with one last tug at the knot, he backed away. 

Jaehyun removed his shirt, ripping it basically and all you could do was stare at him with lust oozing out of your eyes. At the sight of your boyfriends toned torso, you let out a silent moan, reaching your hands down between your thighs with your now tied up wrist, trying to soothe the aching. "Touch yourself and you won't even be allowed to fucking come." He growled, discarding the belt and his shirt, the only clothing on his body being his pants. You flinch at the tone of his voice, subtly brushing the tip of your finger on your clit, removing it immediately at his words. 

"Good. At least you know who does what here." Jaehyun exclaimed with voice dripping dominance, walking towards the bed once again and onto the bed, sitting the same way as you, still being taller. He trailed his hands up from your stomach, through the valley of your chest, and towards your neck, wrapping the elegant digits around the muscle, applying pressure, pushing you down onto the mattress. 

You look at him eyes wide, as the pressure increases, "Tell me, princess. Why have you been acting up lately?" Jaehyun inquired, hovering over your body, his broad shoulders covering you almost fully, the feeling of being powerless making your essence drip down onto the sheets 

"Answer me, bitch." he raised his voice, grip tightening around your neck, "J-jae-" you tap his hands, trying to let him know the pressure was too much. He didn't seem bothered though, until you frantically tried your hardest to gather as much oxygen as you could, he loosened just the slightest. 

"I-i'm sorry.. " was all you could get out, his eyes roaming all over your face before leaning down and capturing your lips in a rough kiss. Finally having some sort of your skinship with your boyfriend making you feel ecstatic as you allow yourself to slip into your subspace. Jaehyun swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, then biting it hard enough to draw a small amount of blood, making you gasp out loud, him taking advantage of your open mouth, slipping his tongue in. 

The exact moment, without you noticing, his hands had trailed down your body, towards your throbbing core, cupping the heat before shoving two digits straight into your wetness. 

You scream into the kiss, Jaehyun gulping down the sound, pulling away to hear your moans that were so addicting to his ears, the only thing keeping you attached being a string of saliva. 

Jaehyun didn't like it slow, his pace inhumanly fast in thrusting in and out of you, drawing moans after moans from you. 

"Look at you squirming already, tsk." He laughed, looking down at where his fingers disappeared in you, essence splattering each time he pulsed in. 

"J-Jae!" you tug at your wrist, wanting something to hold onto as he kept going, fingers curling in you making you jerk as you feel the tip of his fingers brush against your soft spot. 

With the actions of his skilled fingers, his gaze and the constant taunts, you felt yourself being dragged towards your high, expecting Jaehyun to slow down at the feeling of your wall clenching around his fingers, but all he did was smirk at you, moving downwards and increased the speed of his arms, the other wrapping around your middle to keep you in place as you thrash around, feeling your orgasm rip out of you. 

Jaehyun gave you one last smug look, before lowering himself, capturing your bundle of nerves in his mouth, fingers still going on about wanting to force another orgasm out of you.

You try closing your legs, the action making Jaehyun graze his teeth on your clit, removing his mouth from it right after, only to give your core a slightly rough smack, "Keep it open, baby. You wanted this." he mumbled against your core, vibrations of his voice travelling up your stomach, making your nipples painfully perk up, then resumed sucking and tugging on the sensitive bud. 

"jesus, fuck!" you cry out, not being given the chance to come down from your high, making you shut your eyes tight. 

Jaehyun dragged his fingers out slow, shoving it in with full force, watching you lift your back off the sheets, making the boy chuckle. His fingers fastened, if that was possible, tongue circling the clit, as you feel yourself near your second orgasm. 

"Ah, you're close again. Good, good." he spoke against your south lip, the feeling drawing you straight towards your high, as you feel a tear slip out of your eyes. 

Jaehyun immediately removed his fingers, lapping up the juices sprawling out of you, watching you twitch from being overstimulated. Eating you up clean, he backed away from your burning body, quickly discarding his pants alongside his boxer, chucking it somewhere behind him as you turned towards your side from the slight pain in your abdomen. 

Jaehyun looked at you, all fucked out, boosting his ego up further, as you desperately tried catching your breath. Futile. 

He let himself crawl back up your body, his hands removing the stray hair falling on your face, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair as you let yourself melt at his soft action. Funny, because the next moment, he gripped your roots, pulling you back onto your back making your breath hitch. "I had you come twice in less than 10 minutes, princess. You think Johnny could've done that?" he grunted, his painfully hardened dick now aligned by your entrance, making you squirm away as much as you could, Jaehyun keeping you in place with his hands tangled in your hair.

"Why the fuck are you silent now? Huh? Finally feeling bad for your sorry ass?" he tugged at the roots once again, making you shut your eyes tight at the pain, wanting freedom to move your hands however you want, being restrained by his necktie around your wrist.

Jaehyun dragged his length over your wetness, lubricating it before shoving it in completely, "Good, b-because i rather prefer you moan than use that annoying voice t-to talk about another guy" he grunted, the wetness and your tight walls feeling pleasurable on his member. 

You let out choked moans, letting Jaehyun ram himself inside you, tears continuously flowing down your cheeks. Jaehyun removed his hand from your hair, placing it beside your head instead to balance himself over you as he set a fast pace in going in and out. 

Jaehyun groaned, letting all his anger out by torturing your core, "Ja-jae slow down, I'm sensi-t-tive" you blurt out, mouth wide open. You hear him growl, pulling out of you, instead of saying anything, he flipped you onto your stomach, lifting your hips up in the air, before shoving his length back in. You let out a loud enough scream, clenching around his member, "That h-hurts.. " you cry out, keeping yourself up the best you could with your tied hands. "It should. With how you've been acting, you fucking deserve it." Jaehyun spoke, moving his hips against yours once again. In all honesty, you didn't want him to slow down, the pain not too unbearable, just perfect enough to be extremely pleasurable. 

Busy trying to focus on the feeling of his member moving in and out of your numb walls and trying to control your breath, you fail to notice one of his hands leave your waist, rubbing the flesh of your ass in a circular motion, lifting it up and bringing it down with full force, making you yelp at the sudden contact, "That's for being a fucking slut the entire week" his hands came down again, smacking the exact same spot, "That's for distracting me during work" you moan out, feeling your climax come closer with each smack, "That's for touching yourself." he groaned. 

He rubbed the reddening skin, bringing it back down with all his power, "That's for thinking about Johnny when I'm your fucking boyfriend" he finished, feeling you clench around his member as you reach your high. 

"And now she's coming again, fucking pathetic." he swore, your wetness producing squelching noises each time he pushed in, your overly dripping cunt now simply aching, unable to feel pleasure anymore. 

"J-jae i can't.." you say out in a strained voice, arms giving out as you lean your upper body down onto the mattress completely. "You can take a little more, and you will." he replied, going faster as he felt himself nearing the edge. Thrusts sloppier, Jaehyun reached out forward, gripping your hair once again, making you arch your back in a painful angle, as he held you there. His other hand reached out around your body, rubbing your clit in fast, circular motion, wanting you to come along with him. 

You tug at your wrist again, feeling the material pierce through your skin, making you cry out loud with pain both in your core and your wrist. 

You bite down your lips, feeling Jaehyun halt his hips, seeds coating your wall, the feeling having you experience an intense orgasm. 

He pulled out after emptying himself in you, your cries getting muffled, you feel both your juices drip down your thighs as Jaehyun gently lay you down. 

He took a hold of your hands, removing the tie, wincing at the red bruises, placing soft pecks all over the bruised area, he mumbled out a sorry, to which you just nodded your head. 

Jaehyun moved his body to sleep beside you, placing a kiss on your forehead as he ran his hands up and down your back in a comforting manner, making you calm down, "You okay?" he asked softly, you murmur out a faint yes, snuggling up his chest. 

After minutes of silence, the pain finally reducing the slightest, you ask Jaehyun, "you said something about having a good news..?" you whisper out loud enough for him to hear, eyelids growing heavier. He laughed out at your question, looking down at you, placing his chin on top of your head.

"Oh yeah, i got promoted."

[yejiroh]

Runaway Bride

Yandere! Chrollo x Fem! Reader

Part 3

Authors note: Hello everyone! Thank you for being here for the (most likely) final part of the Runaway Bride story!

Tag list: @yanderes-are-the-best @ejeeart @misskuudere-chan @fatherrrora

***

It was a race against time. As the news reported false information, Chrollo and his subordinates continued to search for the Nen user they needed. Meanwhile, Y/n continued to change her appearance, running farther and farther away. 

A rough hand slammed against the table, a chewed bullet resting beside it.

Gripping his hair, Uvo screamed in frustration as they had lost another person. It was amazing how many people had such a good sense of smell, yet died the second they smelled Y/n’s belongings. 

“How many does that make?”

“I think that was the 19th person. “

“You’re kidding.”

“Uvo, there’s literally bodies behind your chair. “

Kortopi walked in, messy hair hiding his face like usual. He did not say anything, but a curt nod to the two made them stand up and follow him out of the hotel room. 

Feitan stood in the hallway, knife in hand.

“Anything new?”

Shalnark shook his head ‘no’ with a sigh.

“The boss isn’t going to like this…”

Scratching his chin, Uvo pondered aloud “Why doesn’t he just take their Nen and use that? Doesn’t he take Nen abilities that he likes?”

“Doesn’t work like that, and Uvo, how come you’re the one coming up with all the ideas?”

‘I’m not sure. All I did was drink a case of beer this morning.”

“What are we gonna tell the boss? It’s already been some time- oh god, what if Y/n, you know- committed-”

“She wouldn’t do that unless it would be fun. It’s not fun when you’re scared.”

“Maybe she’s not scared? Huh, what about then, Uvo?”

“Would you two please shut u-”

“WAIT WAIT WAIT!”

“Hm?”

“Call the boss now, I just figured it out! Ooh, Y/n is smart!”

“No shit Shalnark.”

“Just call Chrollo.”

***

Dark eyes stared back at each other, the only thing separating the pur reflection was the spider web cracks of the glass mirror. Phone ringing, a gloved hand went to pick it it up, pressing the speaker icon.

“Any new-”

“BOSS! IT’S INTOXICATION! EVERYONE’S DYING BECAUSE OF INTOXICATION-”

“Explain Shalnark.”

A deep breath was heard in the other side of the phone, and the younger man began to speak rapidly.

“Okay, so basically, everyone- besides us, or people who have generally been close to Y/n for a while, are either passing out or dropping dead like flies right? It’s her! A part of her Nen- I think. Some sort of precaution since she was always on the move, ya know?”

“How does that help us find her?”

“Well, we just need someone who can sniff her out without any damage- so back to our original idea, we just need to smell her out! We had the wrong scent cause we were tracking her by her stuff, not her!”

Chrollo looked at himself, mouth slightly open. Of course! How had he not seen it before? Hadn’t Y/n mentioned something like that before? Smacking his head, he began to laugh, a wicked smile plastered on his face.

“Oh god, thank you Shalnark, I can do this on my own now- let everyone know to return to the hotel, and clean up the mess. My runaway bride is coming  back.”

“Understood.”

Hanging up, the man hurried out of the bathroom, grabbing a black bag, laughing maniacally. 

Now all Chrollo had to do was get ready.

***

Sweat dripped down the side of her nose, hitting the countertop. It was to be expected that running from Chrollo of all people would be difficult. Y/n shook her head, refusing to think of why it was a bad idea to run. The bastard had too much control over her already. A hand in her hair, Y/n looked up, having forgotten that she had cut quite a bit off earlier. Eyes on her hair, Y/n inhaled deeply, calming herself as she tried to stop the tears before they could come.

Gray eyes shone like jewels, boring into her own, soft strands of ebony hair framed his face beautifully as he looked down on Y/n, arms around her, a smile on his face.

“You’re so beautiful love, smile for me?”

“Chrollo, I’m nothing special- we both know that.”

“Ah, but you are; to me, you always look like you’ve just fallen from the heavens, just for me!”

A playful chuckle from Chrollo as he blushed. It was a cold night, and the secret visits he would make just for Y/n were treasured. Holding her closer, he moved a stray strand of hair from her face, pecking Y/n’s nose. Ticklish as it was, she let out a giggle.

“Will you stay? At least until I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you love.”

“WHAT THE HELL! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE ASSHOLE!”

Y/n hit the table, grabbing her keys. If she was going to dream about the man, it wasn't going to be now.

***

Various parts of red roses lay scattered on the floor thorns, petals, leaves, and if you looked very closely, pollen.  Various gifts lined the walls, all wrapped up nicely. Soon, guests would be filling the seats, and Chrollo would once again stand at the altar, and once again he would expect Y/n too walk out those doors oh so bashfully. But this time he would take her hands into his own, tell her how utterly beautiful she looked, and skip the vows- the faster, the better. 

Why was he even going through with marriage if he already had Y/n tightly wrapped around his finger, under lock and key? It’s not like they pay taxes, and he never wanted to marry- and Y/n didn’t care for it. 

‘Because it’s poetic you fool.’

This whole ordeal, just to add another story to his vast collection? Chrollo let out a laugh; to think that he had wasted precious months for the sake of poetry amused him. 

Sliding off one of the silver bands off his ring finger, he set it on the pedestal, messing up his silky black hair. 

“Why waste time slicking your hair back if you have such pretty locks?” Y/n looked up, eyes wide as her hands raked through his just washed hair.

“Gets in my face too much. And it gives me a cool vibe when I slick it back.”

Y/n stopped, bursting into laughter as she uncoiled the hair dryer’s wire. Plugging it in, she sat on the couch, grabbing a comb.

“Let me dry it properly- you're gonna get sick!”

“If you insist- there’s no need to though.”

“Sure there is! Now come on, sit here.” 

Between her legs, Chrollo hummed in content as the hair dryer blew hot air all around and the comb’s teeth raked through all the little knots. 

“I seriously can’t believe you're this pretty, Chrollo. I feel like seeing you like this is illegal!”

“Well, thank you.”

Chrollo leaned back, head hitting the couch cushion. Grabbing Y/n’s thighs, he lifted her legs onto his shoulders, basking in the soft warmth.

Heaving a sigh, Chrollo adjusted his tie, and headed out to retrieve his bride.

***

The T.V. blared as the flashy icon of the station appeared, the host and hostess of the night smiling proudly as they set their papers down on the prop desk. 

“It’s 10 o’clock, do you know where your children are?”

“Hello everyone, I’m Raiyah Ourani,”

“And I’m Bobby McOkazawoo.”

“It has now been 4 months since the disappearance of Y/n L/n. In that time authorities have been conducting investigation after investigation, but no new news has yet to be released. However, the Grungingham Ball House assures the people of Yorknew that their organization is completely safe, and for any future customers to not be shy as they have updated the security, granting the safety they desire as well as the fun time they want.”

“Coming up: Are DonaldMc’s really everywhere within 5 miles? Now, a word from our sponsors.”

“NEW! Scrubbing bubbles foam tastic-super mega ultra is THE cleaning solution to all of your dirty needs! Skin safe to use as a lubricant, and a natural cleanser! You can use it on windows, counters, and so much more!”

Y/n turned the T.V. off, rubbing her temples. Looking at the clock on the wall, it was now 0:45 p.m. Who knew so much time would pass by just from a commercial? About to grab her phone, Y/n suddenly froze; her phone was on, a text notification on the screen. 

‘Where are you, darling?’

A hand on her mouth, she quickly grabbed her jacket. There was no time, she'd have to leave everything behind now or never. It’d be too risky to go out the door- there could well be innocents or perhaps Chrollo himself.

“Please tell me he sent Uvo…”

After the first escape, she couldn’t possibly go out the window; they’d expect that. The door, or  the window?

She looked around the room: too big to go into the vents, too risky to go out the window or door. So how do you escape?

Another ping from the phone, but Y/n didn’t dare look at it. Paranoid, she steadied her breathing; can’t have them sniff her out too easily. 

But…

If Chrollo wasn’t at the door, then she could use her Nen...everyone would either die or pass out, but it would be a better fate then having to deal with Chrollo’s or any of the spider’s blood lust.

A deep breath,  she released her ability, and opened the door, running as fast as she could, not bothering to see who would have been near the door.  She could hear laughter, crunches, dancing feet- all innocents, but there had to be someone, anyone. There was no way Chrollo wouldn’t have sent someone. 

‘It’s like last time…’

Pulling her hoodie over her face, she scanned the crowd before turning around. About to scream, she covered her mouth, looking up at the man who she had bumped into.

Chrollo smiled kindly.

“Nice hair. Where have you been?”

"Chrollo, please n-"

With a flick of his wrist, he had knocked his former fiance unconscious, putting her on his back as if she had just fallen asleep- not like the locals would know. It wouldn’t matter anyways. 

He had gotten his runaway bride back, and this time, he would have his wedding and poem complete.

[melatovnik]

ok ur top faves wangxian fics go

hey yati! 🥰️

alright, so first things first, here’s a big wangxian fic rec list i made a while ago, if you wanna check that one out too! consider the list below part 2. these are all my faves so far since my last rec list (as you'll quickly see, i have a LOT of faves).

and just a fyi/psa/disclaimer for anyone reading this: some of these fics have disturbing themes and/or kinky/freaky sex! make sure to check the authors’ tags and notes before reading. also, much like my first rec list, there’s going to be a mix of mdzs and cql canon, characterizations, dynamics, etc., so bear that in mind.

....ok GO

live from new york by varnes | rated E | 87K words | THE snl au fic!!!! yes, by snl i mean saturday night live. this is perhaps the best and funniest story i've ever read, period. varnes is a fucking genius. read this fic.

Wei Ying lets out a long, ugly groan. “I am fine, Lan Zhan. Everybody is overreacting, it’s so embarrassing for all of you.”

“You had undiagnosed pneumonia, which you walked around with for weeks until you passed out during dress,” Lan Wangji corrects him. “It got a big laugh, until everyone thought you were dead.”

He keeps his voice even and does not tell Wei Ying that it had been Lan Wangji who caught him, who called the ambulance, and who rode with him to the hospital, where he was yelled at by nurses who wanted to know why he hadn’t noticed that Wei Ying couldn’t stop shivering or string proper sentences together.

“Rumors of my demise have been vastly overstated,” Wei Ying says. “Anyway, I’m already feeling much better. Basically fine. Really almost completely back to normal, so stop babying me and tell me why the fuck you let your stupid brother hire the worst man in the world to host our show.”

-

OR: the one where they all work at SNL, Yanli's ex-boyfriend is hosting, and that's just the beginning of everybody's problems.

swiss cheese theory by varnes | rated M | 19K words | sequel to snl au fic!!!!!! another must-read.

The Swiss Cheese model of accident causation likens human system defences to a series of slices of randomly-holed Swiss Cheese arranged vertically and parallel to each other with gaps in-between each slice. Defences against failure are modelled as a series of barriers, represented as slices of the cheese. The holes in the cheese slices represent individual weaknesses in individual parts of the system. The system as a whole produces failures when holes in all of the slices momentarily align, permitting "a trajectory of accident opportunity," so that a hazard passes through holes in all of the defences, leading to an accident.

OR: Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian go to the courthouse.

OR: “Sweethearts,” the city clerk had said, very gently, “you’re already married.”

best friends forever by varnes | rated T | 17K words | alright, so like, strictly speaking, wangxian isn't the focus of this fic, BUT. this fic is so good!! it is seriously so good, and it made me fall in love with jin ling/lan jingyi. also, it's varnes, so read it!

It happened like this: Jin Ling was a sect leader now, which was, and Jingyi really meant this, fucking hilarious. There were few things funnier, in his honest opinion.

Because he was young, and inexperienced, and also — it had to be said — a real shithead, there was apparently some belief amongst his advisors that the best way forward, to promote the picture of a stable, mature sect leader who absolutely did not cry at the drop of a hat, was for Jin Ling to get married.

-

OR: Jin Ling and Jingyi get engaged.

Things spiral from there.

For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm | rated E | 171K words

The picture is of Wei Ying, that much is clear. It’s of a lot more of Wei Ying than Lan Zhan is used to seeing. He supposes that, technically, Wei Ying is dressed. It’s a bare technicality, since one of Wei Ying’s hands has rucked up his black tank top practically to his collarbone, showing a long expanse of abdomen and one nipple. Sweat beads on his sternum, catching the light like jewels. His other hand is--Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen, as though unable to look away from a train wreck--on his hip, one thumb tugging down the waistband of a pair of red briefs. Wei Ying is biting his lower lip and looking directly into the camera, sultry, his eyes dark and inviting. His erection is obvious, outlined against the red of the briefs and framed carefully with the hand on his hip. Lan Zhan’s brain goes wildly, screamingly blank.

Or: Lan Zhan accidentally finds his best friend's OnlyFans account and has an ongoing emotional crisis.

love, in fire and blood by cicer | rated E | 360K words | i actually haven't finished this one since i was reading it when it was a WIP, i need to reread it and catch up fjdskl;fjsd, but i love it very much!!!!!! oh my god he wanted to look nice for his husband..... 🙃 [screams with mouth closed]

"You want Wen Ruohan dead," the Patriarch continued idly. "You want his corpse puppets eliminated. You want his halls burned to the ground and his soldiers disemboweled and begging for mercy. Have I about covered it?"

He gave another knife-edged smile.

"But what will you give me in return?"

"We would be willing to offer quite a bit in return for Wen Ruohan's defeat," Lan Xichen admitted. "But I'm afraid we don't know what an immortal such as yourself desires. Please advise us."

The Patriarch waved at hand at the front of the tent. "I want Second Young Master Lan."

(In which the Sunshot Campaign ends through an arranged marriage to the Yiling Patriarch, and Lan Wangji suffers the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with his own husband.)

how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat) by bwyn & Yuisaki | rated T | 55K words

A new plan hatches in Wei Wuxian’s head. If this nocturnal, bottom-feeding, slimy, invasive mudcat posing as a beautiful actor thinks he can sway Wei Wuxian with animal pictures and a sob story and an unbelievably stilted way of texting with still no dick pictures in the first five minutes of conversation, he has another thing coming. Wei Wuxian’s got it, alright, he has this in the fucking bag.

~

Wei Wuxian plots to expose a catfish using strategic memes and turtle pictures while wiggling his way out of family dinner. Lan Wangji just wants companions.

there’s no promised goodbye here by Yuisaki | rated T | 54K words

Jiang Cheng stares at him. “Didn’t you say you broke up five months ago?”

“Yeah.”

“So why do you have a picture of you two kissing taped to your fridge?”

“Because we’re too broke for magnets,” Wei Wuxian explains, then considers that statement. “Well, I’m too broke for magnets. Lan Zhan probably refuses to buy them because he’s trying to have lofty ideas about the moral failings of materialism.”

~

Wei Wuxian navigates the trials of living with his ex-boyfriend in apartment 1301.

paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 | rated E | 54K words

To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

He comes close, though.

By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.

(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

a paper friend by sunzu | rated G | 5K words

Lan Wangji finds a paperman far from its body and helps get it home.

-Or-

Lan Wangji unknowingly meets Wei Wuxian for the first time.

All Caught Up by brooklinegirl | rated E | 37K words

"Betrothed," Wei Ying says indignantly.

Lan Wangji can't stop his gaze from darting up to him. Wei Ying understands. Wei Ying is looking at him, wide-eyed and upset on his behalf.

"And you don't even like her," Wei Ying says.

"I don't even know her," Lan Wangji says quietly.

"But even if you did—" Wei Ying starts.

"I wouldn't want this," Lan Wangji finishes.

Lead Me On Through by mrsronweasley | rated E | 55K words | oh look another canon-era practice kissing fic fjdskfl;ds

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

I Started From the Bottom/And Now I'm Rich by x_los | rated E | 58K words | ok so i know that in my spiel above i said to mind the tags, etc., but actually pay no mind to the first two relationship tags for this fic. i PROMISE that this isn't that sort of dead dove fic fjdksl;fjs;lifkj. i. it. it's wangxian. don't sweat it. don't even trip. just—this fic fucking rules. it's completely insane and it slaps. wei ying is a girlboss and a bitch and i like her So Much

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

rather cruelly used and rather reserved by x_los | rated M | 14K words

In the month between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian leaving Yi City and their attending the cultivation conference in Lanling, Wei Wuxian discovers a locked room in the Jingshi. It is a mystery that clever and curious Wei Wuxian is doing everything in his power to avoid solving.

But the rose was awake all night for your sake/Knowing your promise to me by x_los | rated E | 8K words | resentment tenties~

The resentful energy occupying Wei Wuxian's body like an enemy army is very interested in giving him Lan Wangji, tied up with a bow.

Wei Wuxian is hoping that Lan Wangji (who is far too noble and very keen to save Wei Wuxian's misguided soul) doesn't find out about any aspect of that.

Mo Money, Mo Problems by x_los | rated M | 3K words

After the Mo family perishes in distressing and mysterious circumstances, Wei Wuxian, still reeling from his reincarnation, tries to dip back into their manor for a little travelling money. (Forward planning! What a concept!) Lan Wangji catches him immediately, and is highly unimpressed (read: furious) with Wei Wuxian’s decision to run away from him in the first place.

Standing Engagement by x_los | rated M | 18K words

Lan Wangji believes he and Wei Wuxian are essentially engaged. While they search for his missing betrothed, he accidentally reveals as much to Jiang Wanyin. Now everyone in the cultivation world knows about the imminent marriage, except for Wei Wuxian himself.

Coming Back to Yourself by acernor | rated E | 22K words | genital swapping for fun and nonprofit!

Lan Wangji gets cursed with a ~woman's body~ and has to orgasm to go back. Since he's 1) a virgin 2) super repressed and 3) SUPER gay, he has no idea what to do.

If only he had a super nosy friend who's read lots of erotic novels who could help him figure out what to do... hm...

Save a Sword by etymologyplayground | rated E | 5K words | a fic inspired by the above fic!

Lan WangJi presses a kiss into his throat, which draws a shivering whine from him. "Like this," he agrees, his voice so low. Then he slides one warm elegant hand down Wei WuXian's chest to his belly, and then to his — to his —

--

fan ending for acernor's fabulous masterpiece "coming back to yourself" because i'm a huge goofball and that fic fucks

Our Eyes on the Road by etymologyplayground | rated E | 23K words | brought to you by lore (the author) and Orville Peck's hit song Drive Me, Crazy

Lan Zhan is silent for a long moment, and the van's speakers quietly pipe the second song on the album into the empty space between them. Then Lan Zhan shifts his hand a little on Wei Ying's leg, presses his fingers once into the meat of his thigh. "Alright," he says.

"Alright," Wei Ying echoes in a wheeze.

"Is that better?" Lan Zhan checks, because he is a good boy. Then he spreads his fingers out a little wider, because he is evil and must be stopped.

-

Lan Zhan is driving to Chicago. Wei Ying tags along.

Worship you till morning comes by feyburner | rated E | 7K words

A meet-cute, a first date, a sleepover.

Let's take a ride round the curves of desire by feyburner | rated E | 6K words | yeah........... uhh, yeah.

Wei Ying was sprawled on the floor in front of the oscillating fan when Lan Zhan got home from work.

The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart | rated E | 105K words | a beautifully crafted, emotionally harrowing fic. i should warn you (since it's not quite tagged as such) that while wangxian is endgame, the overall story doesn't have the sort of happily-ever-after ending you might expect. i’ve seen it described as open-ended but hopeful and cathartic, which i find to be a pretty accurate assessment

Sometimes Lan Zhan doesn’t work through lunch. Sometimes he makes conversation with coworkers in the halls. Sometimes he goes home instead of spending the last hour trawling through Grindr. But mostly, that’s exactly what he does. The sameness is comforting. His life spools out in easily measured increments: capsule collections, yards of hand dyed textiles, ninety day lead times, sell through figures, cost of goods sold.

Every date in manufacturing can be calculated backwards and forward from a single horizon point: the date that the goods must arrive into the country where they'll be sold. Other than that, nothing else really matters.

总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie | rated E | 76K words | i can't recall a fic ever affecting me as much as this one did. one of the best stories i've ever read. so, so, so crushingly beautiful. it's viscerally distressing/upsetting at times, especially at the start, so please heed the tags and author's note (they provide a way to skip the beginning scene if needed)!

That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Wei Ying feels nothing. He doesn’t feel anything, and this emptiness should scare him. He knows he should be scared. He wants to be scared. He isn’t. Fear itself is never scary; fear is just a response. It means that your body wants you alive. It’s the absence of terror that scares him.

请兔子吃晚饭; treating a bunny to dinner by yiqie | rated T | 3K words | read this one to recover from the above fic

It’s not really about the food. Being able to share it in the same space is its own kind of magic.

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie | rated E | 69K words | and then read this one to feel harrowed again, this time in canon-verse!

Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.

在此恭迎夷陵老祖; to yiling laozu, the great and venerable by yiqie | rated M | 7K words | read this one to recover from the above fic (this time in canon-verse)

“You don’t know? In Yiling, there’s a tree at the edge of town, one that stands at the fringes of where the city ends and the Burial Mounds begin, called the Lover’s Tree. They say if you write a letter and nail it to its branches, Yiling Laozu will receive it, and he’ll reply.”

你的阳光下; wanna hide in your light by yiqie | rated T | 2K words | :')

Lan Zhan shuts off the water before it can start getting cold, because Wei Ying still needs to take one. Any other day, Wei Ying would have slunk in, pretending to be annoyed that Lan Zhan started without him, and neither of them would have want for hot water, but Wei Ying is still asleep.

From my heart's ground. by orange_crushed | rated E | 38K words | get (orange) CRUSHED!!!!!!!

After a while he can feel a palm against his face, gentle fingers soft and soothing. It’s not real, not exactly: he can tell the difference between a ghost’s touch and a living person’s, between a spirit-vision and an overactive imagination. His education has been thorough. But the beating has also been thorough, so for now he forgets what he knows and leans into it, into the hand cupping his cheek. It’s soft and dry as those forgotten petals, as the touch of a pillow. He can smell wildflowers, can taste blood and dirt. My baby, his mother says, and he closes his eyes. My treasure. He barely remembers the sound of her voice, but the feeling of it is just the same. Just the same as ever.

[In which Lan Wangji loses almost everything, plants a garden, and grows a second chance.]

Pentimento. by orange_crushed | rated E | 73K words | this fic briefly gave me a serious case of career envy :/ ......but seriously, this is an absolute must-read!!!

When Wangji was eighteen he’d walked into the first class of his fall semester painting module and there’d been a boy in a hilariously ugly floppy knit hat sitting cross-legged on the floor at the front of the room. He’d had a sheet of canvas paper taped to his board and his board clamped between his legs and a tackle box of brushes and tubes—a real fishing tackle box, with a fish-shaped logo on it that said BASS, not one of the nice art supply storage boxes they sold in the campus bookstore, like the one Wangji was carrying—open beside him. Everyone else had settled into the rows of stools and easels, but that boy had stayed on the floor for the whole two hour and thirty minute studio. Wangji had looked at him and thought, that idiot’s back is going to hurt.

[Former best friends Lan Wangji, paintings conservator, and Wei Wuxian, art handler, meet again and realize... neither of them were actually in unrequited love.]

Many happy returns. by orange_crushed | rated E | 25K words

His fingers are still clasped between Wangji's. In the mirror Wangji watches him tuck his coat between his thighs so that he can fuss with the tucked-in hem of his shirt, tousle up the side of his hair, all one-handed. "I hope what I'm wearing is okay."

"It's good," Wangji says. "You look good."

"I guess I must," Wei Ying says, and then he smiles and bites his teeth into his bottom lip for a second, devastatingly, and before Wangji can drop dead the doors to the elevator slide open, and the hostess station appears.

[In which lonely businessman Lan Wangji meets the right wrong person and changes the course of his life.]

The dreamers. by orange_crushed | rated E | 17K words

“Stop mothering me,” Wei Ying protests. “Why don’t you ever listen?” He scowls at Wangji, but then the lure of the clean water is too much; he sits grumbling and strips off his vambraces and loosens the collar of his robes and wipes himself down in the steam. Wangji sits on a stool and watches him, and after a while Wei Ying slaps the rag into the bowl and glares back. “Are you going to sit and stare the whole time?” he demands. “You want to see me strip naked and give my filthy evil self a good scrubbing, huh?”

Yes, Wangji thinks.

[This is a story about a horrible war and a beautiful dream; about grabbing happiness where you can find it, and not letting go.]

mercy, tear it down. by orange_crushed | rated E | 31K words

“You want me to call you good?” Wangji says. “To make you feel good?” Wei Ying makes a wretched, soft, surprised sound in the back of his throat. “Then will you be good?”

“Uh,” Wei Ying says. His lashes flick down again, nervously. “Good how?”

Wangji hasn’t quite thought that far ahead.

Kingfisher Feathers by Anonymous | rated E | 83K words | WIP (7/10 chapters, last updated 4/13/21) | omg omegaverse!!!! @/ this anon author... keep up the great work! also i have feelings for u

With an almost trance-like detachment, Wei Wuxian touched his own neck, his fingers skimming over the fresh mark. The bite wound had stopped bleeding, although he had no doubts it would open again if agitated.

Bonded.

He was bonded for life.

"Shit," he whispered. He looked over at the sleeping form of Lan Wangji—the Second Prince of Gusu and, until his brother was found, the sole heir to the throne. "Oh, shit. Lan Qiren is going to kill me."

----------

Lan Wangji goes into a fevered rut and accidentally bonds with Wei Wuxian. When they next meet, he remembers none of it, and Wei Wuxian is determined to keep the bond a secret—even when he's sent to the Cloud Recesses to be a consort in Lan Wangji's harem.

(tl;dr concubine!wwx is already married to emperor!lwj, who has no idea. drama ensues.)

Pull out game weak by 74243 | rated E | 23K words | featuring the hottest meanest dom top lesbian lwj of your wildest dreams. i hope ao3 user 74243 is having an amazing day

Wei Ying swipes right.

Extra Time by Anonymous | rated E | 28K words | fic inspired by the above fic! seriously good

How Wei Ying learned to stop worrying and love the strap (an AU of 74243's Pull out game weak)

Superfan by 74243 | rated E | 19K words | ao3 user 74243 writing banger after banger as per usual

“I’m not going to apologize for my job,” Wei Ying said, “so if you want to give me some kind of lecture--”

“No,” Lan Zhan said. “You misunderstood. I am...” she paused, as if considering the best way to put it. “I’m a fan.”

Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes by 74243 | rated E | 7K works | i'm just going to list all of ao3 user 74243's fics, ok? that's what's gonna happen here

Wei Wuxian was a little surprised herself, although she felt bad for being surprised. Of course it didn’t really mean anything about you, how you presented, Wei Wuxian knew that better than anyone, but all the same it was hard to reconcile Lan Zhan as an omega.

(wwx makes an error of judgment)

If the shoe fits by 74243 | rated E | 8K words

Wei Ying loses a bet.

the And they were roommates series by 74243 | rated E | 19K words total

That was the other thing, when Wei Ying had moved in. She’d scented Lan Zhan immediately, the sandalwood and smoke rising off her, almost before she’d taken in Lan Zhan’s straight posture, her narrowed eyes. She’d known that Lan Zhan could tell, too. At the end, when they’d talked about the rent and Lan Zhan’s nearly finished PhD and Wei Ying’s working hours, Wei Ying had said, casual and effortless, “And you don’t mind that I’m an omega.”

“No,” Lan Zhan said.

Chef's kiss by 74243 | rated E | 7K words

Wei Ying said, “You know, in some ways I’m kind of depressed. I took your biggest dick on my first try. Now I don’t have anything to build up to.”

“There are bigger ones available,” Lan Zhan said lazily. “I can pay for express shipping.”

(Lan Zhan works the late shift.)

Gold-palmed Warrior Quest! by 74243 | rated E | 13K words

When Lan Wangji suggested that they camp along the way to the Unclean Realm, rather than staying at inns, Wei Wuxian had been sceptical.

Dway! by 74243 | rated E | 6K words

“Hm,” Wei Ying said. “You like it rough, though, right? You seem like that kind of alpha.” When she saw Lan Zhan’s expression she raised an eyebrow. “What? Was I wrong? Are you tender and sweet? Do you cry?”

“You were not wrong,” Lan Zhan said. “I do not cry. Do you?”

tgif by 74243 | rated E | 17K words

Today Lan Zhan says that if Wei Ying cannot control her mouth then she will have to tape it shut.

On the ground by 74243 | rated E | 5K words

“I think you will like it,” Lan Zhan said.

Does your mother know by 74243 | rated E | 5K words | editing this rec list on a monday morning to add this brand new fic fresh off the presses. thank u ao3 user 74243 for feeding us so well 🙏

“Lan Zhan is such a well-behaved girl,” Madam Yu said.

all that and more by Euphorion | rated E | 20K words

Wei Wuxian locks his phone and puts it down, blinks at his ceiling, and picks it up again. The pictures are still there.

His first thought is that Lan Zhan meant them for someone else. That he just woke up at—he checks the timestamp—6:30 am on a Sunday and decided to go absolute full nuclear seduction option on some poor boy he met on Grindr, who would now be missing out on the best thing to ever happen to him because Wei Wuxian had a bad habit of distracting—of—oh.

Pieces of last night start to resurface and paste themselves together in his head. He winces.

The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones | rated E | 77K words | of my faves, this is one of my favorite... faves. top faves. incredibly fun and silly and hot. just... oh my GOD, wei YING!

“I know! Why don’t you try it? Let me go and I’ll lend it to you!” Wei Wuxian bribed hysterically, desperate to escape from this encounter by any means necessary. And then, his eyes blew wide, realizing what he just said. ‘Wait— just what am I offering Lan Zhan?!’ he thought. How was he so stupid, how did he just offer that without thinking—

“You want me...to use it… after you?” Lan Zhan asked, his voice unusually faint.

~*~

Wei Wuxian's test of mysterious, literally magical sex toy goes awry when Lan Wangji finds him in the woods 'experimenting' with it and it ends up in Lan Wangji's possession.

Unfortunately, neither of them is aware that the toy is anchored to Wei Wuxian's body. Too bad Wei Wuxian invited him to try it.

Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers | rated E | 60K words | !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is a really good fic

Lan Zhan stands there in his immaculate, cloud-patterned Lan robes, watching him calmly, one fist tucked up against his back. “I am betrothed.”

Wei Wuxian blinks. “Are you…” He tries to laugh. Again, it sounds inhuman. “Is this about last night? Are you mad at me? I only remember some of it, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sure whatever I did I was just—” He gestures uselessly. He remembers being warm in Lan Zhan’s lap. He remembers fitting snugly in Lan Zhan’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. Nosing at his jaw. “…playing around.”

“This has nothing to do with you, Wei Wuxian.”

none in the forest so bright as these by saltyfeathers | rated E | 6K words

Wei Wuxian puts a hand to his head, brain lost in fog. “Lan Zhan,” he pants. “Why are we here? Are we on a hunt?”

As Lan Zhan tries to remember, his brow furrows. He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.”

“This is bad,” Wei Wuxian says. When Lan Zhan cups his cheek again, sparks burst behind Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Or maybe it’s not,” he says unthinkingly. Sighs, almost. Lan Zhan looks at his own arm like it's betrayed him. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and presses his face into Lan Zhan’s palm. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he murmurs. “What’s happening to us?”

out in the garden, there’s things you hid away by saltyfeathers | rated E | 121K words | oww oww oww 😣😣😣💘

There is a man with empty eye sockets and tears of fire in Wei Wuxian’s dreams. Tendrils of smoke curl around him in sleep, pressing at his most vulnerable spots, seeking entrance, slipping between his ribs.

When he ignores Lan Zhan's offers of help, he declines rapidly. He will die. Or, he should. Anyone else would.

Instead, he flees. And transforms.

crawling through your door by saltyfeathers | rated E | 12K words

Lan Wangji kisses him. When he pulls away, he speaks into the silence between them, because when he is with Wei Ying, he so rarely considers. “Why don’t you touch me anymore?”

Lan Zhan Works for the Historical Society by saltyfeathers | rated E | 7K words | some real real good lesbian action up in here

Pretty Lan Zhan. Beautiful Lan Zhan. Ice queen Lan Zhan. So intimidating and femme and coldly polite in public, yet meaner than a man in the bedroom. Wei Ying has slept with men before and none of them were mean-nice to her like Lan Zhan.

threadfic by saltyfeathers | not rated (each chapter rated/tagged individually) | 34K+ words | WIP (11/? chapters, last updated 3/15/21), but it’s a collection of stand-alone oneshots

semi cleaned-up wangxian twitter threadfic.

【已經打動我的心】So Sing To Me All Night by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | arrow writes wei ying so exquisitely well. i was weepy the whole time read this fic. for the best experience, i recommend following along with the accompanying spotify playlist.

No one listens to the radio in this day and age, but somehow from a bunch of left clicking and right clicking, through Facebook and Twitter and Youtube, Wei Ying finds himself on the WQHS homepage—the UPenn student radio station, promising eclectic tastes from a variety of hosts. Wei Ying can't remember giving a shit about his old college's student radio before he dropped out, but it's eleven at night and he has nothing else better to do. He clicks on the button that says Listen Here! and waits to be impressed.

get wild by aroceu | rated E | 24K words | 🔥🏀🔥 BASKETBALL FIC 🔥🏀🔥

He was looking for a specific reaction—to get Lan Zhan to lash out. All hard edges and demanding, the same way during the first scrim, Lan Zhan's dark voice had made him loose and obedient, itching to both rebel and obey at the same time.

It's them, whatever it is, but it doesn't belong on the basketball court.

~

Wei Ying didn't expect to enter a weird... something-with-benefits-plus-power-play with the captain of the Gusu basketball team. He's not sure if it's worth it.

without a warning by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | 🥺️🥺️🥺️

“Blegh,” Wei Ying says. “I hate being sick, Lan Zhan… my throat is so sore… why do I talk so much?”

“Stop talking then,” Lan Zhan says.

“You don’t mean that,” Wei Ying says, in his half-asleep daze. “I know you’ll never admit it, Lan Zhan, but you like it when I talk.”

your honor i’m a freak bitch by aroceu | rated E | 6K words

Wei Ying gestures to his outfit. His hands are buried deep within the hoodie; he’s mostly gesturing with the sleeves. “Well, it works with the whole get up, you see?”

“The…” Lan Zhan looks down at where his fingers are toying with the top of Wei Ying’s thigh highs. Wei Ying pretends he is not shivering. “…skirt. And these stockings.”

“Thigh highs, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, batting at him with the end of a sleeve.

Play It By Ear by aroceu | rated T | 7K words | MY HEART !!!

In the virtual airplane flying over the island, appropriately called Yiling, Lan Zhan watches as bits and pieces of the island load in. There are many Statues of David, a gothic teacup ride, and, from what Lan Zhan can see, an entire field of spoiled turnips.

hanguang-jun @/hanguangjun Do you need turnips to sell?

timmy and tommy in a trenchcoat @/yilinglaozu oh! no haha! 😅 those are from a while ago but my brother insists i keep them there

for the ~aesthetic~

the key that our souls were singing by aroceu | rated M | 5K words

“I haven’t seen you since—Gusu, was it?” Wei Ying says. “Oh my god, it’s been so long. I didn’t even know you were LGBT! Unless you’re here as an ally, which is also totally cool—”

“No, I.” Lan Zhan coughs. Her throat feels dry. “I am a lesbian.”

abort retry fail by aroceu | rated E | 21K words

Lan Wangji must miss his husband over this amnesiac of a man Wei Wuxian has turned into. Well, Wei Wuxian will show him! He'll be even better—or at least, try to be just as good of a husband as he would be, without his memory loss.

Blackout If You Were Mine by aroceu | rated E | 9K words

Wei Ying likes to wear chokers a lot. So Lan Zhan buys some for him. Then, testing their limits, collars.

Wei Ying wears those, too.

-

Or, the one where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan accidentally stumble into a BDSM relationship.

eleven thousand meters & airborne by aroceu | rated E | 5K words | 😎✈️😎

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying join the mile high club.

many fox given by defractum | rated E | 24K words | can't go wrong with foxxian and dragonji content 🦊🐉

Lan Zhan is glaring at him. That's probably fair.

The last time they'd seen each other, Wei Ying had been digging through Lan Zhan's garbage. They'd made eye contact over the shredded bags, the week's trash scattered around him like stinky, oversized Lego.

Lan Zhan's eyes had been wide with horror, and Wei Ying's had been equally wide with feigned innocence. He'd reached out slowly, maintaining the eye contact, and then flipped over the food waste bin full of onion peel and carrot skin as a distraction and slunk off into the night. Probably not his finest moment.

-

Modern AU dragon!LWJ meets fox!WWX.

the tamed by defractum | rated E | 12K words

If the Second Jade of Lan insists on bringing the Yiling Patriarch as his guest to the next Cultivation Conference, he must first demonstrate a control over the Yiling Patriarch and his unnatural abilities.

The letter lies on their desk for days.

-

Post-canon, Wei Ying is invited, sort of, to a Discussion Conference.

us in a king-size, keep it a secret (say i'm your queen, i don't wanna leave this) by matcha_ado | rated E | 3K words

People always said Wei Ying was a royal pain in the ass. They were absolutely right, of course, just not in the way they thought.

it is wednesday my dudes by jelenedra | rated M | 4K words

Wednesday nights at Cloud Recesses strip club are always a little weird, but usually they're not this horny. Whatever Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get up to, Mianmian is not going to be the one to clean it up.

i'm the one for your fire by occultings | rated E | 43K words | cherry magic au! love it

Wei Ying, virgin and noted heterosexual, gets hit with a curse of an unusual nature on his 30th birthday — through physical contact, he can read the minds of others around him.

Enter Lan Zhan, hot former rival and current coworker, whose true thoughts about Wei Ying are nothing like he expects. (A loose Cherry Magic AU)

a thousand teeth, yours among them by darkredloveknot | rated E | 11K words

A one night stand in the time of zombies.

hoe to housewife pipeline by lanzhancore | rated E | 5K words

“You type fast,” Wei Ying murmurs, making a futile attempt at conversation while he waits for him to be done with… whatever. “Not to be pushy, but do you plan on fucking my ass anytime soon?”

or: wei ying has been thirsting after lan zhan for three slutty slutty years

can you feel it by lanzhancore | rated E | an instant classic

“What’s wrong?” Wei Ying asks finally, eyebrows drawn together. “Is everything okay?”

Thumbs stroking circles into his skin as if to comfort him, Lan Zhan says, “Don’t panic.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, sitting up on his elbows. “What did you do to my ass?”

“Nothing,” Lan Zhan says, convincing nobody. “But we need to go to the hospital.”

or: wei ying really should have sprung for the model with the flared base. he learns this lesson the hard way.

because you're mine (i walk the line) by lanzhancore | rated E | 8K words

Wei Ying is freshly cream-pied and still trying to remember where his legs are when Lan Zhan outlaws masturbation.

or: wei ying fucks around and finds out

payload by lanzhancore | rated M | 3K words | babysitter wwx + dilfji, what more could you need

Wei Ying has a whole five hours and thirty-six minutes to calm down but when he hears Lan Zhan’s key turning in the front door lock later that evening he has to cling to the couch cushions to keep from marching into the laundry room to retrieve the briefs so he can wave them in Lan Zhan’s face and demand to know who owns them.

or: lan zhan's self-restraint is not limitless

the to the brim series by verseau | rated E | 14K words total

Wei Ying wants to rob him, but it wouldn’t even be satisfying, since this guy is just—giving away money. With his nice fingers. Maybe Wei Ying will just bite his fingers, and that will give the same endorphin rush as robbing him. / a day told across five parts.

get that message home by verseau | rated G | 2K words | ohhhhhhhhh myyyyy godddddd 😭

Sizhui's father cannot haggle. It is a shame on Sizhui’s honor to have such an honest father.

Author's note [i'm including it here because it's golden]:

there is a scene in arrested development where lucille, who is on the opposite spectrum of humanity as lan zhan, asks, "it's a banana, michael. how much could one cost? ten dollars?" there are no bananas in this story.

dreaming and getting a glimmer by verseau | rated E | 27K words | a particular favorite of mine 🔥🍆💦🕳🔥

Wei Ying discovers himself.

trust your fingertips by plonk | not rated (but really rated E) | 15K word | 🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️ plonk you’ve done it again!

Lan Wangji must suppress a shiver at every brush and press of Wei Wuxian’s fingers.

Under different circumstances - less public ones - he would welcome touch, given that his body is in such an aroused state.

Alas, his circumstances are these: sitting quietly while Wei Wuxian, the famous (infamous) Doctor of Yunmeng, digs his fingertips into Lan Wangji’s shoulders and chest and sides and hums thoughtfully.

Doctor, Doctor by YunmengLotus | rated E | 4K words | mmmmhmm!

Wei Ying needs to get a prostate exam. How ever will he deal when the world's hottest doctor walks through the exam room door and tells him to bend over?

TAKOYAKI by ariskamalt | rated E | 3K words | lan zhan gets jealous of his own damn appendages. meanwhile, wei ying is just having a good time.

Lan Zhan…cannot always feel or tell what his tentacles will do.

His free hand curls into a fist. Underneath his skin, the tentacles give a little squirm, as if aware of the challenge he has just issued them. No touching Wei Ying unless he says so, because he wants to touch Wei Ying first. They squirm again, as if to say, Tentacles: 1, Lan Zhan: 0.

That will just have to be remedied.

Or, as phnelt first described: Tentacle-ji with the semi autonomous tentacles getting jealous of his tenties for touching Wei Ying in places he hasn't yet

Outage by SugarMilkTea | rated E | 3K words | [cough] 😳😳😳

The power goes out in Lan Zhan and Wei Ying's rural home in the countryside. Lan Zhan takes advantage of the darkness to give in to one of his baser urges, and Wei Ying's first rural power outage experience is about to get a lot more interesting.

big hands (i know you’re the one) by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 8K words | NICE. 🔥🔥🔥

“Not a big talker, hm?” Wei Ying tilts his head to one side. “That’s okay, I’ve been told I’m a good enough conversationalist for three. My tongue is multi-talented and—”

He has just enough time to feel her palm on the back of his neck and think, oh, her hands are so big, before his words are being stolen into her mouth.

darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 7K words

“Are you done playing around?”

Knowing that’s not what either of them actually wants, Wei Wuxian reaches up to tickle under Lan Wangji’s chin. Soft little scritches, coaxing motions—Lan Wangji is weak to all of them.

“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”

(or: five times Lan Wangji paid special attention to Wei Wuxian’s interest in being his gege.)

put him on his knees, give him something to believe in by dustyloves | rated E | 2K words | if the title is quoting WAP, then you should know by now it’s gonna be some of that good filth

The next time Wei Ying kisses him, Lan Zhan is careful again. Wei Ying seems determined to make it very difficult.

the hard way by dustyloves | rated E | 9K words

"Anyway, you make it sound like something lewd is going on," Wei Ying complains. "It's all totally above board. She's just being a nice person. It's just one kind alpha grad student offering one room of her huge house to one beta undergrad in need, what could be more appropriate than that?"

// Wei Ying makes a mistake and finds out the hard way.

Exhibition by sevenless | rated E | 5K words

“Oh?” Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow. “The forbidden section, Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.”

“You’re not afraid of being heard?” Wei Wuxian thinks aloud. A smirk creeps onto his face, eyes glinting. “Or could it be that Lan-er-gongzi actually wants to be heard? Seen? Caught?” He skips in front of him, blocking his way. "Disciplined?”

Lan Wangji’s ears, as always, betray him.

a history of the body by northofallmusic | rated E | 14K words

Wei Ying's body hurts sometimes; she lets Lan Zhan help her.

A fic about the complicated nature of having a body, and also the versatility of sex toys.

(our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering | rated E | 36K words

The reboot completes, and Wei Ying’s brain smashes this information together into two mind-shattering thoughts. Number one, he knew very well already, and is now further seared by defined muscles and a mouth-watering tattoo into his every waking moment: Lan Zhan is the hottest fucking person on the planet.

Number two: that guy wasn’t visiting Lan Zhan’s neighbour, he was visiting Lan Zhan, which means:

Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks.

;

Lan Zhan has been Wei Ying's best friend for years. Literally, years. How did he not already know? How has he missed this most important of facts? And more importantly, how is he ever going to get over it?

watching my heart go round by typefortydeductions | rated E | 38K+ words | WIP (2/4 chapters, last updated 5/2/21) | lan zhan i love you baby 💞

Lan Zhan falls apart. As it turns out, that's not the end.

~

oh man this list is so long sd;jfkdsjfhhh

yati, i hope you find some stuff in this pile here that you’ll enjoy! it's not an exhaustive list, so check out the authors’ other works and bookmarks for more goods, if you feel so inclined 😙💕

[garrettandoscargirlsblog]

Going Home Chapter 5

Summary: After a pregnancy scare.Apple tries to Santi about it,but he put his foot in his mouth. this chapter is a long one!! hope yall enjoy it.

Warning: fighting and pregnancy scare

Weekend is finally here. Time for resting up from the hectic work week. Not the case for Santi and Apple. She has to work at the ER tonight,and won't be home till the early morning. Santi is babysitting his goddaughter, Mia . For a five month old she is full of energy. He is nervous to no end. Afraid he might hurt her or even give her the wrong food. Frankie gave him a list of things she likes,and what time to feed her. Not to mention her baby food. Also her blanket she sleeps with,and the baby monitor. Santi keeps telling himself” I can do this . no problem. Only two days of this. Apple would be there to help me. “ Speaking of his darling . Who has been working hard. She volunteered to work in the ER since there was a nurse due to the stomach flu. She told him that she would text him from time to time. Before the baby gets here. Went to find his guitar . Just in case he has to sing her to sleep. Or to entertain her while she is in the playpen.

Franke yells for Santi to help him with all of the baby stuff. He needs this time away. Even if it was to teach young army recruits to learn the fine art of flying. Good opportunity for his wife to have a break. Randi comes in with the little baby. Still in her carriage. Sits it on the couch. Looks so cute when she is asleep. Frankie tells Santi,” She will be fine. She just had her bottle. If she cries. Just sing something sweet can't have her grow up listening to metallica.” Santi moans,” aww come on man!! She wants to have a hip uncle.” Frankie just rolled his eyes. Before leaving. Frankie leans down to place a kiss on his daughter’s head,and tells Santi,” Thank you for doing this man. Means a lot. Tell apple jacks hope she does not work too hard.” Santi nods and closes the door very softly so it won't wake her up. He goes over to sit next to the baby. Watching her sleeping so peacefully. Thinking how lucky Frankie is. To have a child. A family. Maybe one day him and Apple can have that as well.

Apple hated lying to her love. How can she tell him that she thought she was pregnant. Took a test that did not seem right. As a nurse. She knows something is not right. Before going to work. She went to her doctor to find out what was going on.According to her doctor’s findings that Apple had a false positive. That made her feel really sad. Thought it would be a nice surprise to tell Santi that he was gonna be a daddy. Since Santi has been spending time with his goddaughter, it's natural for him to have those kinds of thoughts. As soon as she got home. She is gonna tell Santi her sad news. In hopes he does not get mad at her.

On the homefront. Santi is having baby problems. Mia was due for her evening feeding. After giving her a bottle. Santi was burping her,and she spit up on his shirt. Which took him by surprise,” Okay little one. You just made a mess on your uncle. Hope you know that I will be smelling like your dinner. Muchas gracias, little one.” After discarding his messy tee,tries to change her diaper. Thinking he got it round her small body. Picks her up,and the diaper falls down. Mia starts to pee! Poor uncle Santiago, not having a good day. Apple watched that ordeal. Puts a strain on her heart. Seeing him with her broke her heart into millions of pieces. Quietly went upstairs to their room and cried.

After giving the little one a bath.Santi looked out the window to see Apple’s jeep under the carport. That puzzled him.She always calls out to him when she comes home. Something is not right. Soon he puts Mia in her bed,and turns on the monitor, goes into their room to see his darling. Curled up into a ball.Sobbing into her pillow. He lays down behind her,” Hay mi amor, what is the matter? Hard day? Want me to get you something to eat.” She wipes her eyes,” No Santi, Not hungry”Santi brushes a few strands of hair from her face,” Don't shut me out honey. Whatever it is. We can work it out.” She sat up so she could lay her head on his chest. Take a breath,” Before work, I felt like I was gonna puke. Thinking I was pregnant . Took a test. The results were not right. Sooo.. I went to the doctor,and found out it was a false positive!! “ Santi didn't know what to feel right now. Sad that he is not gonna be a dad or she didn't let him go to the appointment with her, Lets out a sigh,” baby, why didnt you fucking tell me about this earlier! Though we were done keeping secrets! “ Apple sits up, starts to pace the floor,” You think it was hard not telling you! I was scared Shooter!! Seeing you with Mia made me think about our future. Feel that we might not have that kind of a miracle!” Santi walks over to her, pulls her into his arms.Let her cry.All he could do is hold her tight. He led her back to bed so he could comfort her. Softly sings to her so she could calm down. While rubbing her shoulder,and placing kisses there,” Apple, thought it was a sign that it is not the time for us to be parents. So don't worry about it so much. We have a little one in the other room we can practice on till then. Won't hurt to keep trying to make a baby.” Apple tried not to get mad,” Santi! You sound like it is your mission to make a baby!! Maybe I don't want to try to get pregnant right after the most sad event of our lives!!” He really put his foot in his mouth again.Caused Apple to get up and go outside so she could be by herself.

After the loud outbursts from the adults. Mia started to cry. Like a flash . Santi rushes over to her, picks her up. Rocking her as he walked around the room looking out the window sees his other baby. Sitting under the huge oak tree. How could he say that to her? All he wanted to do is to make her laugh.Not to make her mad. That thought was dashed when Mia started to cry again,” Guess I just screwed up yet again little one. I love your aunt so much. She is the one for me. Always have been. Not ready to be alone again. Afraid she might leave me. “ She reached to touch his rough cheek. That made him tear up. Soon as he puts the little one back to bed. He calls the one person he could trust.

Apple was not doing better either. So many emotions to deal with.Sad about the test results, mad about Santi’s bad choice of words about making babies. Maybe she is not ready for that. Hoping he would understand if they took a break from having sex. Too many things to think about. So she takes out her phone,and calls Lizzy. After a couple of rings,” Omg! What did Doc Bailey say? Are you or are you not pregnant? “ Apple sobs,” It's a false positive! Told Santi about it. He was so hurt about the news ,and pissed that I didn't let him go to the appointment. Then he had the audacity to say that he wants to keep trying to have a baby! After what I went through. Maybe I don't want to rush that just yet.Lizzy sighs,” Honey, have you two ever talked about having a baby? If not? No time like the present to do this. He loves you so much girl! “ Apple took her friend’s advice to heart. Looked up to see Santi watching her from the upstairs window.

Santi was on the phone with Frankie. Pacing around like a caged animal. He is beyond scared. Frankie said,” Dude! Number one you really put your size 10 foot in your mouth. Sometimes you need to see this situation through her perspective. Apple jacks is scared. Just love her Santi, just love her. Show her that there is more to your relationship that just sex. I know that is not the case.I forgot. We are coming home early. Weather is going to be bad tomorrow. “ Santi sighs,” Are y'all in town?” Frankie says,” we are at the diner. Why don't you bring Mia with you. So we can have a family dinner. Might do you some good.” Soon as he got off the phone with Frankie. Packed up a sleeping Mia,and put her in her carrier. Little does that he know. Apple is gonna join them too. Randi just got off the phone with Apple. Both of them are about to walk into an ambush.

Soon as he got Mia all situated in his truck. Noticed Apple’s jeep is gone. Pays no mind to it. Thinking she might have gone out to get something. While driving. He was thinking about the time they spent together. Got him to tear up again,” Come on Santi! Focus! Do what Fish said “think about her feelings . then sees Apple’s jeep! Thinking she is there to get some take out. No! Sees her with both Randi and Frankie! Broke his heart to see her leaning on Frankie’s shoulder . Crying. Santi takes a breath, goes inside, takes a seat behind them. Frankie nudges his wife for her to look behind her,'' See you made it safely. Give me my baby! OH have I missed you! Wearing a small Metallica tee? Santi really.” Apple looked up from Frankie’s shoulder. Caused her to bail. Santi punched his friend’s shoulder,” This was a setup!! What is the deal! “ Randi speaks up,” Call what you want. You two have an issue that needs to be dealt with! So go!” Santi went outside to catch up with Apple. As soon she gets inside of her jeep. Santi knocks on the window,” sweetheart, I want to tell you that I'm a dick about your feelings. Never wanted to hurt you. Talking to our friends made me realize that. Yes, being with Mia made me think about us having a family. Something we never had the chance to discuss. So let's do that okay? Come out so we can figure out what to do.``Apple got out of the jeep,and Santi pulls her close.Rocking her back and forth. After a few moments, she finally calms down. He kissed her tears that fell onto her cheeks. Apple whispers” Glad that you finally see what my mind was going through. Yes, we have never discussed the family thing,I want the same thing,but lets not try to make it the reason for us to have sex Santi. Give me time to process this. Then we could start again. Can you do that for me Santi? Can you wait?” Santi placed both of his hands on her cheeks,” Of course mi amor anything you want. Was afraid that you would leave me! Could bare the thought of that tore me up. “ she kissed his lips, tasted the salty tear,” Why would I do that? We had another fight. So what! Couples fight. So let me get through your thick head Mr. Garcia. I'm not going nowhere!” He pulls her towards the diner and sees Frankie giving him a thumbs up sign.

[wardens-stew]

The Mask Falling Hints MASTERPOST

Clearly I have wayyy too much time on my hands! 

I have compiled a list of information Samantha Shannon has divulged on social media about The Mask Falling, mostly paraphrased from her Tumblr and Twitter. Some of it dates back as far as 2016, so it’s not certain that all of it will happen - I’ve included an asterisk for the tidbits in which Samantha explicitly mentioned that it was pre-editing. I didn’t include a link to the original source because that would be too much work, but if anyone has questions I can probably find it pretty easily! The recent ARC reviews also include some hints, but I haven’t included them because that would be a crap-ton of text. Feel free to add anything I missed! Anyway enjoy the fruits of my obsession! 

Hints:

We will find out how badly Warden was affected by Paige’s torture - there’s a lot about the effects of her torture in the book 

The non-binary character is a free-world spy, pretending to be French 

Paige has issues with drinking water and showering 

Paige will make another valiant effort to get Warden to talk about his feelings 

Paige’s demisexuality is clarified -  she reflects on the way she wants in comparison to the way the allosexual Nick and Eliza do

Paige gets slammed into the wall by someone, but not Terebell (also not Warden, because then she would be very dead) 

The grey market storyline continues

Etymological connection of Arcturus meaning bear-guard and Mahoney meaning descendant of the bear is worked into the books 

Paige cries

Paige’s PTSD is a thread throughout the book 

Paige has mental and physical difficulties following her torture 

“The scope of everything gets bigger, there's more focus on the free world and how it interacts with Scion, and you'll find out more about Rephaite history and the origin of clairvoyance.”

You may figure out what happened to Procyon

Warden’s aura type is mentioned*

Paige starts calling Warden Arcturus. They have a discussion about it. But she keeps calling him Warden in front of other people. 

The prologue begins about an hour after The Song Rising 

Warden asks Paige to teach him Irish

Contains clues as to the big secret at the heart of the series 

Warden does a few very sweet things

We’ll find out a reason why Nashira considers Warden a possession rather than a partner*

Paige is at her most fragile

One of the characters eats an orange

There is a distinct Priory parallel in one section of the story

Paige asks Warden if Rephaim can get drunk 

We will find out if Rephaim can get physically ill

We’ll get a piece of information that may help us understand the Rephaite logic behind Warden feeding on Paige’s aura 

More about the golden cord

Paige’s feelings with her father will be explored 

We will find out why it was common knowledge amongst Rephaim that Terebell and Warden were once mated 

Warden might tell us what would happen if he tried to eat

More about voyant-amaurotic sex will be explained 

We will learn more about the Rephaim’s internal politics and conflicts 

We get to see Paige’s birthday

We we’ll find out how Warden knows how to develop Paige’s gift*

Paige and Warden butt heads over right and wrong 

We’ll find out why Warden said that Sargas are the only Rephs who choose their mates

We’ll find out more about the half-urge

We’ll find out more about the complicated history between Warden and Terebell

Warden is planning to learn Gaelic (pre-editing)

We’ll find out two of the reasons why Warden hates Nashira so much*

We’ll find out about the promise Warden made to Nashira that she alludes to before the Bicentary

Warden says something with an exclamation mark

Warden will tell us more about the memory of Terebell, and how it was a prelude to one of the defining moments of his existence 

Paige visits Warden’s dreamscape a few times, but we only see it once

Paige addresses the author directly 

Nick isn’t in the book at all

The plot takes place only in Paris

Paige dies her hair red

A character Samantha did not originally plan to be in TBS4 now is

There’s a big scene in the Sainte-Chapellle in Paris

The book is shaping up to be the darkest book in the series, but also contains the most jokes 

Paige feels really ill for most of the book 

Samantha starts hinting at the Grand Backstory of the series 

Paige is under strict orders to stay inside for a month, but she breaks the rules to explore Paris 

The main antagonist was born in “the burning summer of 2019”

We’ll find out about two of Warden’s past relationships 

Paige and Warden have to get food deliveries from a guy called Albéric because they’re not allowed to go outside 

There’s espionage 

Warden uses the super unnecessary word “sennight”

A lot of the book takes place underground

We learn if a non-polyglot could ever learn Gloss 

There is a Very Awkward Conversation*

There is a time skip between the fourth and fifth books

Warden smiles a lot… with his eyes

The ending will change everything 

Scion must change its public face due to an event that happens at the end

People who liked The Mime Order will love it

TBS4 picks up when Paige is resting.

It will go into more detail about how Rephaim emerge

It marks the beginning of Beautiful Dresses in The Bone Season 

It introduces a Rephaite character Samantha absolutely loves, with her favorite Rephaite name 

There’s a scene Samantha has wanted to write for years 

The ending is very dark 

There’s a cute priory reference 

There’s a character Samantha loves - “she’s so cool that I don’t know how a nerd like me invented her”

“The relationship between Warden and Paige gets deeper and more complicated in this one, and you get to know Warden a little better.”

“[Paige and Warden] are together a lot in this book, as they’re sharing a safe house in Paris. It’s the first time they’ve spent a significant amount of time with one another since they escaped Sheol I.  You’ll actually glimpse the ways they both react to being stuck inside in The Mask Falling, as they’re meant to stay hidden in a safe house for a month so Paige can start to recover from her ordeal.”

“It’s a love song to Paris in the way The Mime Order was a love song to London.”

“[Paige and Warden do have some happy calm moments.] Although there’s a lot of action in the book, there’s also quite a lot of downtime. Paige is still recovering from her ordeal in the Archon, so she can’t always be out in the world kicking ass. She’s resting as well, trying to get her strength back.”

“I won’t lie, The Mask Falling is a book to fear . . . but there are some nice bits. Including some coffee-drinking.”

“[Paige and Warden] do so much in this book. So much.”

“Most of the characters who didn’t go to Paris are absent from TBS4.”

“Paige and Warden do so much in this book, I just couldn’t cram any other storylines in. However, several old friends do turn up in it, as well as a bunch of new characters I hope you’ll love as much as I do.”

“Paige [experiences the messiest-most-intense emotion in TBS4]. She goes through the emotional wringer in this one.”

“The second ‘arc’ has the same main characters and the same antagonist. The difference has more to do with the setting, the scope of the narrative, and the type of battle being fought against Scion. You’ll have a better idea of what I mean when you read the end of TBS4.”

“This book puts both [Paige and Warden] through the emotional wringer, but there are lighter parts as well.” “Nick meets an old friend while he’s in Sweden and Paige and Warden will be staying in central Paris, on Rue Gît-le-Cœur. You can see some of the locations from Book 4 here: [x]”

“TBS4 is basically just a long Hurt/Comfort piece with occasional and reluctant splashes of Action/Adventure”

“THE MASK FALLING leans a little more Adult than the other BONE SEASON books. The whole series is officially classified as Adult, but the first three aren't far off YA in terms of sexual content, violence etc. THE MASK FALLING is . . . maybe a tiny bit sexier.”

“Doing my final reread of THE MASK FALLING and naturally I've noticed a recurring phrase that I have used no less than thirty times in the manuscript.”

“It blows the world of The Bone Season right open. It’s where everything changes. It takes place in a brand-new setting and forms the bridge between the two ‘arcs’ of the series. I hope the ending will show readers get why I really do need seven instalments to tell this story.”

“Books 1-4 is what I call the “Scion arc”, but Scion is still a threat in Books 5-7. Book 4 is kind of in the middle, with more of a focus on Rephaim than there currently is in Book 3.”

“He’s in Book 4, he’s French, he’s voyant, and I’m writing his introduction scene now. I think I love him?”

“The draft is about 140 000 words long – a little shorter than The Mime Order – with a veritable tonne of action, espionage, international politics, eerie catacombs, old enemies, new friends, and messy, intense emotions packed into that word count.” 

“This one combines my favourite elements of The Bone Season (Warden and Paige chats), The Mime Order (syndicate weirdness) and The Song Rising (heists and angst)”

“The fourth Bone Season book is well underway, and things are about to take a very dark turn for Paige.”

“It’s mostly focused on Paris, but you’ll find out bits and pieces about what’s happening in both England and Europe.”

“She’s suffering from PTSD and aquaphobia following her water torture in The Song Rising, so she’s pretty much in the ringer for the whole book. There are a few light moments, but she’s under a lot of stress from the start.”

“While I wouldn't call it spy fiction, TBS4 is delving into espionage territory as Warden and Paige, still exhausted from their tremendous efforts against Scion in The Song Rising, attempt to navigate the convoluted political and criminal networks of Scion Paris.”

“Book 4 is a touch more political, laced with subterfuge”

Lists:

Things you’ll see:

The carrières of Paris

A masquerade (ofc)

A mysterious character you haven’t seen in a long while

Arcturus Mesarthim saying ‘hm’ about 18 times

Five words:

Revelations

Politics

Water

Heartache

War

Three adjectives:

Macabre

Emotional

Seismic

There is a lot of:

Warden and Paige

Rain

Classy interior decor

Angst

New characters include:

A spy so fashionable and icy cool I’m unsure of how a nerd like me created her

A tall, irritable Frenchman with a bit of a God complex

A terrifying new Rephaite with an uncomfortably sexy voice

It has:

A Parisian underworld 

A demisexual MC 

A masquerade ball 

Catacombs 

Forbidden, angst-stricken desire 

Verbal consent 

Acknowledgement of periods 

I can promise:

Parisian buildings TOURISTS LOVE. Notre-Dame? It's there, there's a masquerade INSIDE IT. Sainte-Chapelle? Oui. Versailles? Naturally. The Eiffel Tower? Oh, we're climbing it 

Getting DOWN and DIRTY. (By which I mean literally, down, into the catacombs.)

People who arrive in Paris SPEAKING FRENCH because they have been given a job for which they have the correct SKILLSET *bangs table* 

No crêpes (#OhCrepe), but CHAUSSONS AUX POMMES 

ROOFTOP PICNIC 

Not everyone is STRAIGHT 

Chic OUTFITS, all quite filthy by the end

Locations: 

The beautiful Sainte-Chapelle, my favourite place on Earth. 

Rue Gît-le-Cœur, a major location in the book and previously home to the Beat Hotel.

The famous doorway in the Paris Catacombs. The inscription translates to 'Stop! This is the Empire of Death.' 

Rue Montmartre, where we may or may not encounter an old face. 

Preview in gifs:

Originally posted by cinemagraphs

Originally posted by queeniegoldtsein

Originally posted by cumlelerinruhu

Snippets:

Out-of-context chapter title: Chapter 3: Gloomy Coffee

Part names*: 

1. To Pay Thee Free

2. Turn the Anchor

3. Eurydice

Quotes:

“What the fuck is that?” she whispered to me. “Looks like a frozen rainbow.”

“The horizon was as red as if the fire still burned. I watched the sunrise from the roof. Fog breathed into every nook and alcove of Paris, laced over the dark crests of the river, blanched the skin to the pink of salmon. I was sure the air was still spiced with the tang of smoke.”

“So,” he said, “we are choosing larceny.” “Always so surprised when his criminal friend commits crimes.”

“I wouldn’t usually care who you’re riding at any given time”

“I sensed all of this was very important, but I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about”

“I picked up the floundering ribbons of my dignity and started over”

“His home was in decay, and mine lay in the shadow of the anchor. Scion had made wanderers of us.”

Current opening line (circa Dec 18, 2018): “The sun had been climbing over the cliffs when our ship had pared away from Dover.”

“Someone who had heard of me and whose first response had not been to try to kill me. What a treat.”

“A hollow ache stretched out within me. It started in the chambers of my heart, in a place that reached eternally for Ireland.”

“‘I promised you we would stay together,’ he said. ‘In the absence of other options, I will follow your lead on this matter.’”

“‘I’m fine.’ ‘Your attempt to mask the darkness under your eyes serves as compelling evidence of that. As does the full bowl of coffee.’ I cocked my head. ‘Did you just master sarcasm?’ ‘Paige.’ ‘It’s a cup of coffee. With… no handle.’”

“‘There’s no fireplace,’ I stated. ‘No.’ ‘But how are you-‘ A wild laugh was bubbling up. ‘How are you going to cope without one?’ ‘Cope,’ Warden repeated.  ‘You need one. To stare into, pensively. Did you know,’ I said to him, ‘that you do that a lot?’ He tilted his head, which only set off a fit of silent laughter. My ribs ached in protest.”

‘I mustered all the breath I had left and screamed, until I folded on myself and my voice burned to nothing.’

‘Who can break you now, Black Moth, now there is nothing left to break?’

[chappedandfadedvds]

Nov 4th, Wednesday 18:42

„Looks like we’ve got all of the important issues covered for today. This would be the very last paper for you to sign. Right...eh down here.“ 

Jens got handed another document, that looked like the dozens that came before it. The pen still in hand, he nodded and put his signature on the line at the very bottom.

„I know this is a lot, but trust me, Jens, you definitely want it all to be handled before it will become necessary and be hurried over last minute.“ 

He put the pen down, taking his copy to keep upstairs in his room, as the lawyer proceeded to begin to fill his briefcase with a thick binder. A white sticker on it reading:

2020 Stoffels, Helena & Jens

„Thank you so much, Alex, honestly, for everything.“ His mother said, sitting under a blanket on the sofa, while Jens and their lawyer Alexander De Waele sat on the floor across the low couch table.

Jens felt drained, his brain was done for, he was sure of it. One more page to read and he’d be ready to kill himself, right there and then. They had signed documents over documents at the bank and now with Alex even tenfold. Luckily he was an old schoolmate of his mom’s, so he really took his time and had the patience of an angel to go through every little detail for the still seventeen year old teen.

„Definitely, thank you!“ Jens agreed, stretching his arms up into the air, shaking of the light cramp in his right hand.

„Nonesense. I’m glad I could do something for you.“ He said smiling at them before he finished the last bit of coffee in his cup. He had his dress shirt cuffed at both wrists and the first two bottoms had been opened for comfort. They had spend the last 4 hours on this whole ordeal. Alex looked up from his cup, over towards Jens, he seemed to regard him in contemplation for a moment.

„So it is settled then. From friday on, whenever the time will come, this is gonna be yours. The house, the car and everything in it. As well as all rsponsibilities that are coming with, like bills and repairs. Are you sure you want this, Jens? First thing tomorrow morning on my agenda will be sending off these documents, so now would be the time to rip it all up or throw it into a fire if you would want to.“ Alex suggested in seriousness, as Jens looked back at him, in fact giving it consideration. What a momentary relief it would be, until of course he would see his mom, so he did and looked at her tired face, the dark circles under her eyes, the woman thin as a stick. Barely able to follow the ongoing conversation in front of her. So Jens wouldn’t do it. He shook his head determined.

„No, I’ve had four month to think it over. I have my grandmothers support, It’s decided. We have the personal directive handled, the will, all bank accounts have been transfered under my name by the bank today. I’ve called the incurance companies regarding the car, the houshold and liability. I’m probably missing some things I signed today, but this is about it, right.“

„Very much so, yes. You should definitely talk to your school again as well, letting them know about it, in case of an emergency. Obviously no one wishes for that to happen. But should you be hindered to attend classes, especially it being your graduation this summer, you need any help you can get for your future.“

„I know“ Jens replied as he watched his mother falling asleep, having lied down on the sofa, now that everything was sorted. It had been a long day for her, especially being out for hours. She wore the lovely rosegolden headscarf, he found absolutely pretty on her, and she adroed so much. Jens remembered how long his mom had stood infront of her mirror this morning, asking if she looked well enough to face the world. He had assured her she did, despite her complexion saying otherwise. She looked so vulnerable right now, it physically hurt Jens to watch her from across.

„Do you need help to get her to bed?“ Alex asked just as emotionally exhausted as Jens felt it appeared. This wasn’t really easy for anyone involved.

„No, I got it. Happens every other day.“ It didn’t sound as unconcerning as Jens had hoped it would, once spoken out loud. It was true nonetheless. It felt like yesterday was ages ago, worrying over a kiss and a crush on a boy, skating with his friends. Filming a youtube video for god’s sake. 

They probably all wondered where he was, as he had only replied in the group around noon, to tell them that he wasn’t feeling like attending classes today. Moyo and Luca joining him apparently, as they seconded it. Much to Yasmina’s frustration, as she tried to get them to actually care for their education. 

Jens had stopped reading at that point. Since then his phone was turned off and left in his jacket.

„There is one more issue, that we definitely need to handle soon.“ The insecurity in Alex’s voice made Jens uneasy. He was convinced to have settled everything and being able to concentrate on his daily life, that it threw him off for a minute. He clearly was loosing the control of his breathing again. Jens felt it.

„Hey, Jens?“ Alex put his hand on the teens shoulder, his thumb strocking over the fabric of his shoulder, it calmed him down at least enough to listen further: „Don’t panic, we are not doing that today. We’ll get another date ready, alright? Nonetheless we have to make a desicion there as well, one that might be the hardest for you to do.“ Jens looked up at the laywer next to him, nodding. „What do you want to do regarding Lotte?“ 

Jens evidently wasn’t prepared for that question, as it took him a solid minute to process what Alex implied. It didn’t even cross his mind that Lotte may be taken away from him.

„Okay, so here is the thing. The court will quite likely consider your father first, then your grandparents and then your bigger sister Lies. And given your family situation, none of these options are ideal. As if all of them involve Lotte being taken out of her house and school and even the only place she ever lived in. If your family members can’t take Lotte in, as I’d assume. Or she simply doesn’t want to leave, the court will have to involve child protection services. No one wants that, Jens.“ 

The blood was loudly rushing through his body, he could hear it clearly over the words that left Alex’s mouth. Jens was positive that this would devestate him. He loved his sister so much, he couldn’t give her up.

„This is the most likely path we are on right now. Unless! And that’s what I was going to ask you about. Unless you are, as you’ll be turning eighteen this friday, are filing for guardianship over your sister. And I want you to be very clear about what that entails. If we do this, I’d recommend getting a letter of your father and grandparents rejecting their position of choice as the legal guardian to Lotte. I’d also advise you to have witnesses able to argue your case on why Lotte is best kept under your care. And last, a strategy on a stable income. Luck is really on your side, as you’ll actually own a house in your name and the car’s lease is payed off by april next year, so you have no outstanding loans. Which is perfect. But still that is no constant income. So if your plan was to take a gap year or go to university while working two days a week to get by, that’s not gonna do it. If you can’t find a well paying half time job, to allow for attending university half time, you better take it out of your agenda for your future.“

Listening to Alex felt overwhelming. Sure he had taken care of her for the last couple of month. Bought her to school, picked her up, cooked for her, washed her clothes and on the list went. 

What Jens would need to agree to though, was doing exactly that for the next ten years of his life. And he needed to do it at eighteen. The realisation hit him, that he would then spent all of of his twenties taking care of his sister. 

Instead of university parties, trying out directions in life, and falling from one messy relationship into the next, he’d try to handle a teenager, while working a job. Damn.

„This is a lot to ask of you. That’s why I wanted to bring it up today, so you’ll have some time to think it through, say by mid december? This is a big sacrifice on your end and I think you should also talk to Lotte about it. Openly and honest, see what she thinks, what she would like for herself. She is a child, but like in any cutody case, the child’s opinion is just as important to take into consideration.“ Alex got up on his feet, his things collected and blazer and coat back on, as he spoke, with Jens following him towards the door. It was almost eight, so Olivia’s dad should be here any moment to bring Lotte home.

„You have my number, please call me once you are ready to talk it over in a meeting, yes?“

„Yes. Thank you again. Really. And I’ll talk to you soon, I suppose.“ Jens said attempting to smile at the kind man, who hugged him with a sad expression drawn across his face. He left the house, briefcase in hand and down the street towards his parked black car.

As the door fell close behind him, Jens stood in the hallway, thinking the whole day over and over again. Until he sort of didn’t think at all any longer. Blankly staring into nothingness.

The all encompassing numbness felt welcoming.

And then the door bell rang. Lotte was home.

[bastillewolf]

The Grand Tranquility Hotel (XV)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: An eccentric hotel owner and an inquisitive writer find solace in each other when they both seemed to be at the edge of rock bottom.

Notes: Sorry this chapter took so long. I must have rewritten it about 5 times before I felt completely satisfied with it. Furthermore, thank you for all of your wonderful birthday wishes, it gave me a lot of joy reading them during times like these. I hope you’re all doing well and I hope to keep you entertained with more Alex Turner content in the (very) near future.

I’d advise you to listen to ‘The Linden Tree’ from the Grand Budapest Hotel soundtrack for the final ‘scene’. It somehow felt very fitting to me, as I’ve used most of this soundtrack while writing this story. The movie had lightly inspired me to make it.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

@edgythought​ @iwannabemorethanme​ @he4rtbre4khotel​ @juga-42​ @alexbandguy86​​ @imagine-that-505​

Chapter XV - Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino (Pt. III)

“You’re both idiots,” she huffed under her breath, as she rinsed the bloodied washcloth in the previously stark white sink. She didn’t bother to wipe away the splatters, since she’d had to rinse it ten times before that because Matt’s nose wouldn’t stop bleeding.

They had taken their mess to the kitchens, away from prying eyes, when a picture had almost been taken by one of the paparazzi that had been sneakily investigating them. Word must have gotten around that the writer of The Grand Tranquility Hotel was visiting the new estate and seen with the owner himself.

As she cleaned the remaining grime off of Matt’s cheeks and chin, she wasn’t being as careful as she usually would be. She was pissed off, and all the men did was cast their eyes downwards and shoot her regretful looks from time to time. Even if they did still feel resentment towards each other, they were very careful not to show it in her presence.

“You know, it’s not just your reputation you’re damaging,” she added, walking over towards the hotel owner’s messy features, “I’m an accomplished writer now. If you can’t behave properly, I’ll have to write another book and lie myself out of this. I’d rather not write a fake autobiography.”

“You mean an addition to the already existing one?” Alex muttered.

She raised a brow, the washcloth momentarily wavering over the bruised cheek she’d been tending to. The injuries to his face were less severe, and she was very much considering making them worse.

“You better watch your mouth, mate,” Matt growled.

“Or what? Are you going to hit me again?” Alex challenged.

Jamie was quick to hold Matt back when he tried to get out of his chair, while Nick took a hesitant step towards Alex, in case he was about to try something. But the hotel owner remained seated on the kitchen countertop, rubbing his temples tiredly.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” she sighed, “And I advise you to double check the personnel you’ve hired, as they clearly can’t keep their mouths shut.”

“It’s the paparazzi; they’re always here, even when we do keep an eye out for them. And my clerk is very trustworthy, he just needs some more training,” Alex told her defiantly.

“Just some training?! He was drawing squiggles in your guest book when we arrived, Al!”

“Matt, I do need you to shut up,” she snapped, “You’re letting your anger make you as spiteful as a ten-year-old. Go cool off.”

The man in question huffed, shaking Jamie’s hand off of his shoulder before making his way towards the door.

“Yes, go cool off, Matt, lest you try to beat someone up again.”

Her eyes met his in a desperate attempt to ask him to let it go, which wouldn’t have worked had it been the Matt from when they left the hotel together. The Matt now, however, was more calculated and reserved; though his tendency to use his fists as the main solution still lingers there. She had thought it gone by now, yet the circumstances had indefinitely proven her wrong.

The door slammed behind him with a finality, and she returned her annoyed gaze to Alex, clearly disappointed with the way he’s treating her best friend. Nick left shortly after, mumbling about what idiots they were being, to go search for Matt. Jamie didn’t stick around for too long either, evidently feeling awkward staying in the brooding tension that hung around them.

She silently continued to care for his split lip, peering up at his eyes ever so often, which seemed darker and more distant than usual.

“What did you mean by that?” she murmured.

“Mean by what?” he asked.

“You know what.”

He gave her a look, “You mean your fake tales about my perfect hotel?”

“I never wrote anything but the truth, Alex. I simply left out the lesser parts.”

He hummed, clearly not persuaded by her words. He was being stubborn, and he was very aware of it, yet she decided it would be better to continue the conversation rather than let unspoken words hang in the air for the remainder of her stay.

She fumbled with the stained cloth in her hands. “Did you read it?”

He met her eyes with a lifted brow, as if trying to decide whether or not to respond. “Of course, I read it,” he eventually admitted.

“Then you should know I didn’t fabricate anything. It wasn’t some publicity stunt I was trying to pull off, Alex. Naturally, I wanted to give your hotel the credit it deserved, but I wasn’t going to lie while doing so. That’s not who I wish to be.”

“Yet you left out all that I did to you. You could have ruined me. Why didn’t you?” He sounded almost desperate, now.

“I think you know why.”

She felt his hot breath waft over her lips. His face was suddenly so much closer to hers, making her inhale sharply. He smelled just as she remembered, like expensive cologne and cigarettes. He’d been smoking more.

“It’s not right, Alex.”

“Why not?” he whispered. His orbs had dilated significantly, and only wavered from hers to look at her licking her lips.

“Because you still despise me for what I’ve done.”

She ran her hand over his cheek, before stepping out of his embrace. She left the room without sparing him another glance, leaving him to his never-ending train of thoughts.

 Nick hadn’t been able to get much out of Matt, and saying it disappointed him was the understatement of the century. He had chased him around the hotel for a bit until they reached the doors to the gardens, where Matt was now taking photographs with his aged camera. Nick knew he needed to give Matt more time, yet his patience was running low. He had played the waiting game for long enough.

So, when Miles had arrived at the front desk asking for Alex, he had given him a relentless glare that made the mayor’s eyebrows shoot up so far they were almost closing in on his hairline. Only he could make this look as comical, and Nick felt his steadfastness waver around his friend. “Alex is a bit busy at the moment, I’m sure he’ll seek you out once he has the time.”

It was a lazy lie, which Miles obviously saw through, because all he replied with was an “ah” while his curious eyes trailed towards the guest book and skimmed over a familiar set of names. “I see,” he continued, “Very busy indeed…”

Before the clerk could say any more, the mayor was already trailing off towards the elevator, appearing deep in thought.

“I’ve always found the mayor such an odd man,” said the young man next to him.

Nick sighed. “Shut up, Mark.”

 She was surprised to hear a knock on her door. Not because she was deathly scared of knocks on doors, but because she wasn’t really sure who was still on speaking terms with her right now. If anything, she had expected to have been left alone for quite a while, with Matt needing time to brood and sulk and the others to decide whether to finally kick her out or not.

She hadn’t been sure what to expect when she opened the door, but it most certainly hadn’t been Miles Kane’s warm smile.

 He really didn’t want to have this conversation. And he’d really rather be anywhere else. Yet, here he was, in the gardens of his own hotel – if he could even call it a garden compared to his other property; the city didn’t allow much room for greenery – seeking out the man who had beat him up not hours before.

“Come to take another blow at me, then?” Matt asked. He had his camera raised; his right eye squinted shut to take a good look inside the lens. He stood facing the small pond that was outside; one of the very few hidden gems of the hotel.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty face any more than I already did,” Alex tried.

Matt huffed in response. They were both testing the waters here. “As if. You barely touched me last time.”

“Oh, really? You want to swap jumpers and make another move? I recall your timing being off. Those drumming classes haven’t done much for you, have they?”

They both snickered, a sense of familiarity washing over them like they were back in old Sheffield, when they had nothing more to worry about than homework and bickering over how to snog a girl.

“Not much to see around here, eh?” Matt asked, lowering his camera to run his eyes over the rest of the reasonably-sized plot.

“We were more concerned about the interior of the hotel.” Alex had his brow raised.

“Real shame. Not much space to keep horses and such.”

The inquiry was there, and Alex quickly picked up on it. “Mardy is being properly looked after, Matt. She’s doing fine.”

The man grumbled a bit under his breath about how ‘fine’ wasn’t good enough which the hotel owner decidedly ignored.

“I’m not here to bestow any more grief upon you, Matt. I’m here because we have a shared interest that I wanted to talk to you about.”

“A shared interest?” Matt repeated blankly.

“I…” Alex exhaled sharply. “I hope you’re happy together. I really do. And that’s all I’ve ever wanted for both of you in the end; happiness. I’m glad you’ve found it together.”

Matt’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Alex, we’re not together.”

“... You’re not?”

“Is that what that whole ordeal was about?”

Alex had a difficult time processing this new information being thrown at him, and could barely hide the glee that was bubbling up in his chest. He was interrupted, however, by Nick running towards them. He couldn’t recall him ever running so fast for anything in his life.

“I think we have a problem,” Nick gasped, “Miles is here.”

 “I’m happy to hear you didn’t lose your job,” she gave him a genuine smile as he poured her a fresh cup of tea and added in some milk.

“Me too, if I’m honest. Spending so much time on the hotel made me realize how much I actually liked doing it and how much I was missing it. I can only be glad people were still willing to vote for me. Guess my good looks pay off after all.” He winked at her, making her roll her eyes.

“I’m sure they voted for you because they were reminded of the goodness in you when you made that apology on the tele.”

“You watched that?” He asked.

“Of course, I did. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

The twinkle in his eyes seemed to diminish as he cast them downwards. He fumbled with the cup, his fingers making circular motions over the ceramic. “I’m not really sure I’m all that deserving of their praise. Not to mention, yours.”

“Miles-“

“I’m really sorry for what I did. I never meant to cause any of this. I really wanted to do right by Alex, because he’d been hurt by so many people before and I didn’t want to see it happen again and yet… When I showed him that notebook I think I only really did more harm than good. I know those words were never meant to be read by anyone else and that Alex would have been doing so much better had I just…” He let go of a shuddering breath.

She moved her hand to rest on his forearm in comfort, unable to bring about any form of resentment for the man. She met his eyes. “I know. You were only ever trying to protect him. I can only thank you for that. What happened between me and Alex would have happened either way, whether or not you showed him what I wrote. Neither of us were in the right state of mind back then.”

He gave her a watery yet relieved look, and nodded in understanding. He wrapped his arms around her. “I just hope he’ll get it into that stubborn noggin of his soon that he’s never going to find anyone better than you.”

She laughed against his shoulder quietly, “Me too.”

 When Miles finally left the room, it was nearing dinner time, so he was planning on heading straight down to the hall. He didn’t get much further than the lobby, though.

“Relax, Al,” he told the frantic hotel owner, “All we did was talk it out. Seems like you took the more violent approach.” Miles eyed his injuries carefully, as Alex avoided his gaze.

“Where is she?” Matt asked.

“In her room, last I checked. Why?”

“Alex has another stupid idea.”

 She was about ready to head downstairs for dinner when Matt burst through the door. He gave her a quick look up and down, shaking his head in disapproval as he did so. “Oh no, you’re not wearing that. Put on something fancy.”

“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously, placing her hands on her hips.

“You heard me,” he said, “I’m taking you to dinner. Now come on, hurry up.”

She wasn’t able to protest as he’d already disappeared back out the door. “This day just won’t end, will it?” she muttered.

 Now her mother should have seen her. Though perhaps all she would’ve done is complain about how she wasn’t married yet instead of taking a look at her state of dress. She was honestly quite proud of the work she’d put up, even going as far as to wear heels with it.

She took a gamble that she was supposed to meet Matt in the lobby when he didn’t appear to be waiting in the hallway outside, and a part of her expected him to already be sitting in the hall eating his fill of chicken wings. But he was nowhere to be found, not even at their usual table.

“Miss,” a voice stopped her as she was about to sit. It was Nick. “I’ve reserved a different table for you tonight. If you’ll follow me, please.”

“No.”

Nick gave her an annoyed look.

“Stop being difficult.”

“You like it when I’m difficult.”

 The first thing that filled her senses were the bright rays of lights hanging around the garden, and only when she’d taken in the starry night’s sky was when she noticed a record playing softly in the distance. Nick led her to a clearing near a pond hid behind a few bulky bushes, where she found a table and two seats waiting for her.

“Please, don’t be too difficult on him,” Nick whispered, before taking off again.

His footsteps on the soft grass made her turn back around.

God, he was wearing that same suit from all those years ago. And he still looked damn good in it.

“Would you care to join me for dinner?”

She blinked at him.

“You actually want me to?”

“Yes,” he said, and she could tell he meant it.

 He was busy pulling out her chair for her when someone rounded the corner.

“You’re still not ready?” Matt asked, his arms carrying what appeared to be a set of menus slumping against his chest in annoyance. “I’m never doing this again.”

“I recall you volunteering to be our waiter this time, Matthew. This was of your own volition.”

“Wait a minute,” she turned to glance back at the man in question, “You volunteered to be our waiter? What happened? I wasn’t absent for too long, last I checked.”

Matt rolled his eyes, before gesturing towards Alex. “You think I was just going to leave you alone with him? We compromised.”

“You suggested it,” Alex said.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Are you ready to order now, or should I take my outstanding services elsewhere?”

 “Why did you set all of this up?” she couldn’t help but ask. After Matt had run off to escape their incessant teasing about him maybe actually enjoying waitering, they had only managed to make some small talk. But of course, ‘how are you’s and ‘fine’s aren’t enough to form an entire conversation during dinner.

He gazed up at her, and he looked tired. No longer did she feel captivated by the boyish charm in his gaze; this time, she was completely entranced by the mature and graceful man that sat before her.

“I don’t despise you for what you did, love,” he murmured. “I did when it happened, but the moment you left, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake in the entire world.”

Of course, he’d made the biggest mistake. She felt her heart drop to her stomach.

He had realized that he should have rid of her long before that. That she was nothing but a bother in his perfect grandeur life.

“I never should have let you go.”

She was awaiting his rage, thinking this was the calm before the storm. That he would snap at her or insult her again. But, he didn’t.

For once in his life, Alexander Turner didn’t get defensive. He didn’t storm off, nor make a scene. He simply started talking, like it was the most regular thing for him to do. As if he had always done it, as unnatural as it may have seemed.

Her bottom lip started trembling, her exhaustion fuelling her already tensed emotions. “Then why did you never call? Why did you never pick up the phone? You said you always would if I called you.”

“I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again after all the things I said to you, after how I lashed out on you.”

“But you could’ve at least tried,” she reasoned.

He nodded, running a tired hand through his hair before it landed on hers and squeezed it lightly. “I didn’t try because I knew you’d be better off without any of this.”

He gestured vaguely towards the looming hotel behind them. “This hotel… It was out of the money from the back of my pocket. The risk was far higher than I thought it would be, and as we were signing the official papers, all I could hear were your warnings being whispered in my ear over and over again.

The opening didn’t go without loss. We barely got any visitors in the first few months, and I was certain that that was going to be it. That it was all over. All I’d worked for, down the drain, because I’d taken one last pathetic gamble to get to the place I’d always wanted to be.

And then you came, a bright light shining over all that was bad, publishing a book about the grandeur Tranquility Hotel, with nothing but praise and comforting words.”

He narrowed his eyes at her for a fraction. “Of course, I read your book. And I only felt the guilt and shame that had been haunting me during all that time you were gone.

You deserve so much more than what I can give you, writer. You have talent, a big heart and the stubbornness of a swine and I love that. You’ve proven more than enough times that you can take care of yourself. It made me realize how much I was holding you back from your full potential after you left.”

“Alex-“

“I was not in the right set of mind, and I can’t say I am now. I’m not very patient, I have a bad temper and I can be cruel when I want to be. You saw the way I reacted when I came to the conclusion you and Matt were a thing. I haven’t changed. Not one bit. Me wanting you to be my girl again is the most selfish thing I could ask for, which is why I won’t.”

Her vision was blurry, and a lump had formed in her throat that felt so heavy it could drop back down to crush her heart in a beat. “You’re not selfish, Alex. I wrote that book for you. It was my last attempt to find some solace after all that had happened. I’m only glad to hear it worked out so well for you and the business, I would’ve hated to see your legacy go to waste.”

But if that’s how you feel, I’m asking you- I’m begging you, be selfish. Be selfish for and with me, because I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A tear solemnly ran down the length of her cheek, which was swept away by Alex’ gentle caress. He captured her lips with his, and took her chin in between her fingers. It was soft and sweet; though felt as dramatic as the finale of an Italian opera, for his decision was made.

He loved her, and she loved him, and all was right in the world.

 She ran her thumb over his straining knuckles. “And please don’t worry about any of the boys, Al. They love you and care for you, even Matt. Even when you don’t make the best decisions, they’re there for you, because that’s what family does.”

“Family that needs to sock you in the jaw from time to time,” Matt himself added, as he set their plates of food in front of them.

Alex clasped his shoulder, a brotherly look exchanged between them once more.

 And so, the rest of the night was spent exchanging long awaited kisses and glances, until the plates were licked clean, wine glasses empty, and clothes strewn across the grassy yard behind conveniently placed bushes under the night’s sky.

The end.

 ?

[bxcketbarnes]

Second Chances

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Ex-Henderson!Reader

Words: 2200+

Author’s Note: I’ve been in such a Steve Harrington kick that I just want to write him. I apologize to those who don’t care in advance, but hey, the heart wants what it wants. Here’s a bit of an angsty/fluffy fic. I wanted to play with an ex situation and this is what my friend Audrey and I came up with! I hope you all like it xoxo

Seeing my little brother hang out with the guy who shattered my heart to pieces is a difficult sight to see. It's not Dusty's fault. He doesn't know it was Steve who broke my heart, but it's still strange to see the tall-haired man come around the house.

"D'ya wanna come hang out with us, Y/N?" Dustin asks as he stands in the doorway of your bedroom.

It's been weeks since the whole thing with Hawkins Lab went down. Literally the most terrifying thing I have ever had to deal with. Also seeing Steve almost get eaten by demo-dogs was hard, even though he was a jerk to me.

"Who all is going and what are you doing?" I ask him and take a quick glance at him. My little brother moves to sit on the end of my bed, listing off the name of his friends… including Steve. "Sorry, dude, I would love too, but I have to start looking for colleges now that I've graduated. Next time?"

Dustin frowns a bit and nods his head. I lean forward and shuffle his hair, motioning him to come closer to me. I bring him into a tight hug, feeling his arms wrapping around me.

"I'll see you later, okay?" He tells me and I nod my head, telling him to stay safe.

I'd love to hang out with him and his friends, they're super dorky and so am I, which is why we get along so well, plus the shared trauma we've experienced. I just… can't see Steve right now. I'm too vulnerable.

The phone rings and I pick it up immediately as I've been waiting for my best friend, Audrey, to call me.

"Hello?" I answer, pressing it against my shoulder as I continue to go over the pros and cons of the colleges in Hawkins, which isn't many.

"Hey! How's it going?" She asks me and I let out a sigh, setting down the paper before grabbing the phone. "That bad?"

"It's just Dustin wants me to hang out with him and his friends, but Steve is always with them. I can't look at him and not think about the time he just dumped me in front of the entire cafeteria, loudly," I tell her as the tears came to my eyes. "I've done so much to avoid him and being with him during the whole ordeal with the lab just brought up unwanted memories."

Aud lets out an mhm, listening to my whole rant before she chimes in. "Does Dustin know it was him?"

"...No. I didn't tell him, because I didn't want him to worry about me. He leaves for camp in a couple weeks and I've barely spent time with him," I mention while twirling the phone cord around my fingers.

"I know this isn't gonna be what you wanna hear but, what if you hang out with them and just ignore Steve? Just stick close by Dustin or even the girls," she informs me and I think about it for a couple minutes.

"I-I could do that, yeah. It would make him happy, that's for sure," I mutter and look towards the clock to see the time. "I know where they'll be so I'll head their way. Thanks, Audrey, don't know what I'd do without you."

Both of us chuckle as I move to sit on the edge of my bed. "You'd be in your room twenty-four/seven and we'd never see you," she says jokingly and we laugh once more before bidding each other goodbye.

I hung up the phone and lets out a deep sigh as I slip on my tennis shoes before grabbing a sweater, getting up to leave the house.

-

My heart pounds in my chest as Steve's place comes into view, my stomach churning. Is this a good idea? I park my car behind his, noticing his parents aren't home as I can hear the screams of the kids coming from the backyard.

After turning off my vehicle and getting out, I jog up his steps before pressing the doorbell. I wait for a few seconds, rocking on the heels of my feet as I heard Steve yelling that he's coming.

I gulped slightly, mentally preparing myself as the door opened. My breath hitched in my throat as Steve stood on the other side of the door, shirtless and in his swim trunks.

"Y/N? Hey," he mutters and I give him a small wave.

"Y/N?!" I heard Dusty's voice call out and I tilt to the side a bit, looking past Steve to see my little brother standing at the back door, a large grin on his face. "You came!" He runs towards me, the older teen yelling at him to be careful as Dustin's arms wrap around my waist.

I was through the house and into the backyard, seeing El sitting on one of the lounge chairs as her eyes are trained on Mike who was dunking Lucas. I shove my hands into my pockets as Dustin runs to jump into the pool, going back to playing with his friends.

"Do you plan to go in?" Steve asks from beside me and I jump a bit.

"I-Uh, no. I didn't bring a swimsuit," I mutter to him coldly, not even looking at him. I heard him let out a sigh and a quiet okay as I sit on a chair beside El.

"Y/N, did you bring a suit?" Dustin asks as he swims to the edge, leaning on it.

A chuckle leaves my lips as I rest my elbows against my knees. "Sorry, bub. I didn't," I tell him and he looks towards Steve. No, no, Dustin just leave it.

"Steve does your mom have an extra suit she could wear?"

He nods his head and I look towards Steve to see him motion for me to follow him. I let out a quiet sigh, getting up from the lounge chair. I keep my arms crossed over my chest as I follow him up the stairs and into his parent's room.

"How long are you gonna keep ignoring me?" He asks as he searches the dresser, hoping not to find something absolutely repulsive.

"Who says I'm ignoring you?"

Steve lets out a dry laugh, pulling the black bikini out of the drawer. "Really? Do you think I'm that oblivious? Ever since the lab, you haven't hung out with Dustin and his friends and that's not like you. It doesn't take a scientist to put two pieces of the puzzle together, Y/N."

"If you know then why ask?" I mumble bitterly while taking the swimsuit from his hand.

"Well, don't you think it's a bit childish?" He asks and I scoff, shaking my head.

I leave the bedroom, heading towards the bathroom to change as I heard him follow me. "You try having your heart shattered by someone you truly liked because you weren't ‘popular’ enough in front of a shit ton of students and then tell me it's childish to ignore them because it physically and mentally hurt to be around them," I practically growl, narrowing my eyes at Steve as his eyes saddened a bit before slamming the door.

I leaned my back against the wooden door, closing my eyes as I take deep breaths, trying not to cry. "Steve?" My brother calls out and my breath hitches, hoping he didn't hear what happened. "What's she talking about?"

I listen closely setting the bikini on the counter as Steve stutters over his words. "I-She hasn't told you?"

I quickly open the door before he can say anything else. Both boys' head turns towards me as I keep my eyes on my little brother. "What was it you didn't tell me?" Dustin asks and I take a deep breath.

"Steve and I went out for over a month, but according to him I wasn't cool enough to be his girlfriend so he dumped me in front of all his friends and our classmates, essentially breaking my heart and embarrassing me all in one."

"You what?!" Dustin spits, turning his attention back to Steve. "You were the one that caused my sister to question herself if she was good enough, cool enough for someone to go out with?! She spent weeks in her room, crying over you?!"

"Dustin…" I trail off, stepping towards him as he was sending daggers at Steve.

"I-I-" the older teen stutters, trying to come up with some sort of excuse.

Dustin doesn't even let him finish as he walks out the sliding door. I can see him gathering his stuff, his friends looking at him with curious looks as he walks back towards me. "C'mon, Y/N. I wanna go home," he mutters and I nod, the two of us walking out of Harrington's house.

I noticed Steve standing at his door, feeling his eyes on me as I started my car before pulling out of his driveway, can't help but noticing the hurt look on his face as we drove away.

-

"How come you never told me what happened?" Dustin asks as I was sitting on my bed.

"I didn't want you to worry or snap at him like you did earlier. I know you and Steve were close after everything that happened and I didn't wanna ruin that," I tell him as I cross my legs.

"You're my sister, of course I'd do that. I love you and don't wanna see you like that, ever," he pauses and lets out a sigh, "although you should know that he's not like that anymore, ever since Nancy practically ripped his heart out. Guess he got a taste of what you felt."

I press my lips together, looking down at my hands as Dustin stood up. "Goodnight, buddy," I mumbled to him as he walks out of my room, closing the door behind him.

"Love you!" He calls out and I can't help but laugh lightly.

I lift myself off the bed, gathering my nightclothes and changing quickly. A tap on my window makes me snap my head towards it, furrowing my eyebrows. I ignore it, putting my hair up in a messy bun. Another tap is heard as I start heading towards my bed.

"What the fu-" I start but cuts myself off as I notice a figure crouched outside my window. I swallow thickly as I slowly moved towards it, moving the curtain out of the way to see Steve sitting outside my window. "Jesus, what are you doing here?" I ask him after I open the window.

Steve falls into the room and quickly gets up. "I-I'm sorry about Junior year," he mutters quickly while looking down at me. I start to speak when he puts his hand up. "I realized after you left earlier how much of a dick I was but you gotta know that… that I'm not like that anymore. I don't hang out with Tommy H or Carol anymore. I-I didn't realize how much you liked me and I'm sorry I broke your heart."

"I know you're not like that anymore. Dustin told me you changed after Nancy dumped you," I mention and cross my arms. "And even if you weren’t like that anymore you should've realized that that's not how you break up with someone. You really hurt me, Steve."

His Adam's apple bobs in his throat as he reaches for my hand. "I know that now. I… Is there anything I can do to make it up to you? Would you believe me if I said I made a mistake now that I've had time to think about it?" Steve asks me as I allow him to grab my hand, feeling his thumb rub the back of my hand.

"I-I don't know, Steve," I barely whispered, looking down at our hands. "If you remember my all-time favorite date idea, I'll let you take me out and I'll decide whether or not you get a second chance."

"You said you wanted to go to an arcade after having dinner at Enzo's since you've never been there before," he tells me and I couldn't help but blush a bit. Steve brings his free hand up to my cheek, stroking my skin gently. "Did I hit the nail on the head?"

I scoff, a chuckle leaving my lips. A laugh comes from his lips as well, a sigh leaving my lips. "Yeah. I can't believe you remembered that. You were borderline drunk that night," I bite my lip and look up at him.

"Well, believe it or not, you were pretty special. You were so innocent and sweet, I just… didn't want you around my friends. I knew they didn't like you and if I could go back I would've done things differently," Steve confesses and my heart skips a beat.

"God. I hate that I can't hate you and I hate that you're so cute, especially your friendship with Dustin," I tell him and place my hand behind his neck, my fingers combing through the hair on his neck. His eyes move down to my lips for a quick second, slowly leaning in as I feel his nose brush against mine. Just before our lips could meet I pull away, pressing my index finger against his full lips. "Take me on that date first… then you can kiss me."

"Tomorrow night? Seven o'clock?" He asks as I pull my finger away and I nod my head.

I lean on my toes to press a kiss to his cheek, smiling softly at the boy. "It's a date, Harrington. Don't fuck it up."

-

Stranger Things Taglist: @whiitee--sxxl @joyfullyswimmingface @lovefilledtragedy @morningfears @adumbledoreable @vanitysfairr @lay-all-on-me @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @fangirlinganditswonders @ria132love @hhal0 @rissa067

[namjoonchronicles]

million dollar houses | nj, yg

↳ pairing namjoon, you, yoongi

↳ genre drama, fluff, angst, romance, crime

↳ words 6.5k

↳ warnings strong language, description of murder, mentions of prostitution, findom, eloping

↳ notes this was in the wips for about two years before i muster up all courage to have it finished. to me it was the sexiest story i’ve written of namjoon because he has tattoos and whatnot, but the reason why it took as long as it did, was i lacked faith in my writings. when i find a wimp of confidence, i went on and finished it, so here it is, pls enjoy them

↳ summary weeks before the wedding, lawyer min yoongi, your fiance had met up with a client who was charged with a homicide case. seems bleak and unimportant, until you saw this handsome client whom you recognize as your ex-boyfriend with a non-violent history, namjoon. armed with a messy break-up and lingering feelings, will you choose your past with namjoon or will you go forward with yoongi?

One look in my eyes and you should know the truth.

Fumbling with his keys, Yoongi was holding the car keys in between his lips, struggling to shove the key into the keyhole of your apartment. It was not even 7AM and he is already suffering. He had at least three paper bags in one arm and coffee in another and it forced out of him a small strange groan as he managed to twist the keys to open.

"Done," he exasperated. As if it were quite the hassle.

Upon the sounds of the door opening, you winced in bed, but not quite wanting to open your eyes though you hear him affectionately call you, "...babe, I'm home!"

A few things dropped while he walked in and the door slammed shut behind him.

"Fuck, crap," he cursed and set the things on the table except one paper bag that he brought to you in your bedroom.

He simply pushed the door and placed the bag on the empty space of your bed and crawled on all fours with a cheeky over-energized grin plastered on his baby face. The bed dips as his weight begins to settle on it, his body heat radiates to you and it makes you frown.

"You didn't sleep well after I told you the confirmation date, did you?"

He lowers himself to kiss your shoulder and trail them along your neck and jawline until finally your lips, where he lingered longer than the others. He giggles low and brush his lips to the helix of your ear, whispering hotly, "Brought you coffee."

Sliding your hand up his shoulder with your eyes closed still, you circled your arm around his neck and pulled him for a peck with a small suggestive moan, "Tell me all the things I want to hear...you know the way to my heart, mister..." you scrunch your face, and let out a question in a feigned manner, "...who are you again?"

Yoongi bit his lips, and hummed, "Oh dearie, you shouldn't be in my bed if you don't remember my name. And I'm pretty sure it was the only name you chanted a few days ago. This is unfair," he pouted.

"What's unfair?" You peeked at him through one eye. "...I know what your name is, but you don't remember mine..." he murmured, "I'm disappointed, Mrs. Min."

You pinched his chin and shaked it lightly, "Soon. Eager are we."

Yoongi handed you your coffee while you're still seated in bed. He took the paper bag earlier and folded one leg underneath him, "Look what I got from Innisfree."

You took a mouthful gulp of coffee and shook your head out to feigned disapproval.

"...a 100 more days set for a bride-to-be!" Yoongi rejoiced.

"I know, I'm the best fiance there is," Yoongi boasted and had to gulp down the drink in a hurry.

"I didn't know they have these..." You gasped, eyes crinkling at the corners in graceful excitement and collected the box in your hand, gingerly, carefully and so appreciatively. Someone would get you something as expensive and as thoughtful as these. Coming from a male perspective, Yoongi is highly unusual. Be it his love towards Holly, the house dog, and children.

"And, the invitation cards are ready. So we are going to the print shop to fetch it. And then we have food tasting next week," Yoongi listed, "I've emptied my schedule for the whole week. So you don't have to worry about that."

You leaned your head on his shoulder, sitting face to face, "Oh thank goodness for your existence. I have Hoseok's birthday to worry about and I'm about to go insane, and then there's yours too...holy fuck."

Piling yourself with a humanly impossible task is never the plan. The wedding had to be around May this year, and you have been planning it for at least a year. The invitation cards are ready and it feels so real now that Yoongi brought you the things you needed to organize the wedding.

Sometimes things get too difficult too handle that you almost give up. Thankfully, Yoongi understood the pressure of a wedding and so he catches everything that falls out of your hand, metaphorically speaking. Yoongi too is as busy as you are, he had just started his own firm and under the guidance of your father, he was able to organize a few things on his own. 

Sometimes, you worry that you're taking up his time by being an emotional wreck especially at the eve of wedding planning, but Yoongi proved to you that it was nothing more than just a mood swing--something he had been effortlessly finding his way about. He was needless to say, impressive in his way of dealing with ordeals that you find meticulous. A God-sent lovable creature who fills your hole in the most enchanting way he could. Although sometimes he struggles with fitting his own time. Like right now, when you sit next to him in the car and he is fumbling on his phone with an unsettling frown on his face. You knew instantly that he was trapped in between something.

"What's wrong honey?" You asked. He hisses before answering, "I forgot that I promised a client to meet today."

"Can't it be postponed until tomorrow?" "The client specifically said today so I don't think he's going to be here tomorrow, what do we do? This case is big, and if I win it, I can give the firm a new recognition and it will be a good start for the firm."

Yoongi chewed his lips. You fished out your phone to call the printing company and tell them that you can't take the printed invitation cards today. The smile on Yoongi's face was indescribable. Although it was brief, you could feel the sincerity.

"What's the case about?" You watched him as he drives. His cream coloured turtle neck covers up until underneath his jaw and his black long coat made his eyes look striking brown. He's breathtakingly beautiful, this lawyer who stole your heart.

"...It's a homicide." He flipped the cars' blinkers to the right and turned the wheel with the heels of his palm, while grumbling low, trying to remember the details of the case.

"My client pleads not guilty to a murder of a man in cement tank...remember that body that came in the news? When you stayed over at my place?"

You blinked a few times, trying to remember.

That night? You had spicy rice cakes and Yoongi's kimchi fried rice. It was extra delicious and he allowed you to stay overnight when he was preparing an argument draft in his legal pad, watching Law & Order Season 8. When he took a phone call and walked to his study room, he left a file open on the dining table. Your fingers were curious about it and so you took time to read what's written on the reports. There were several pictures of gang tattoos and one very disturbing picture of a dead body, found in a hardened cement. And just then, the midnight news covered the story. Your eyes darted to the large screen and you stepped away from the table to watch. Yoongi joined you after a bit.

"A body of a man found in the hardened cement tank a few days ago had been confirmed to be a twenty-two year old young men name, Park Jihoon, who was a Seoul University's dropout. Park was an Advanced Chemistry student who obtained a scholarship from the nation's education bank due to his impressive scores in the last exam held by the International Chemistry Olympiad, it brought pride to the nation."

Your hand dropped to Yoongi's knees as he sat next to you on the couch. "Park's death had been ruled as homicide and investigations are still ongoing. In other news..."

The value of a human is ridiculed nowadays. The strong feeds on the poor down to their dying days. You remembered, feeling repulsive on the thought. Who would want to kill such an aspiring child? He was going to be someone important.

"Yes I remembered that." Yoongi tutted his tongue at your response.

"My client is the one who was accused of killing the boy. He's a gangster." Your eyes bored into Yoongi's unaffected side profile.

Although there was a tinge of guilt in the way his eyes flickered, you knew he wasn't telling you a hundred percent. Yoongi isn't the kind to hide things from you.

"So you're defending this client." Your voice died.

Yoongi puckered his lower lips over the top one and stuck his eyes on the view ahead, "Innocent until proven guilty, remember? If I win this case, my firm will soar."

Blinking away, you stared at the trees on the side of the streets. Things always look different from a moving car. Perceptions. What people choose to see and what is the real truth, Yoongi's job often put him in between good and evil. They say, lawyers have one feet in hell, the other in heaven. And it seemed that he understood your silence.

"I know what you're thinking. But beggars can't be choosers. My clients pay me. And it isn't always about the money, I know. There's always two sides of the story. This case is important to me as how important it is to my firm..." Yoongi persuaded you with his soft tone.

"Ilsan Brotherhood," you shot and Yoongi intercepted, "How did you know?"

You stared at the pavements where people were walking on.

"I read about it, in one of my father's files. They are not to be toyed around with, Yoongi. They are out for blood and most of the time, they will come home with one."

You warned him. "Whatever you have against them, it will not change my mind about taking this case, I'm sure my client is innocent. You haven't heard his side of the story." Yoongi is stubborn. He lets the idea of how winning this case will bring him pride and joy when you feared for his life.

Ilsan Brotherhood was not a stranger to you. They are the most active syndicate since the 2000s up until now. Even your little brother have heard of it.

"Can I come with you?" You unfastened your seatbelt. "Stay in the car." Yoongi shot.

He shut the car door that is parked by the large road, opposed to a bathhouse. You know this bathhouse, it has a Japanese restaurant link to it. Maybe you can't go in the bathhouse, but you can see that the restaurant’s bathroom is connected.. You exited the car and followed after Yoongi's footsteps but instead of entering the bathhouse where he is, you walked into the Japanese restaurant.

"A table for one, in a private room please?" You smiled. And she directed you to the room. They only have a wall made out of bamboo sticks and after the waitress left, you sneaked out of that room and sneak your way through the bathhouse. Until you heard Yoongi's voice coming from the end of the hallway.

"Fuck, he's in the restaurant..." You cursed in your head and scrambled to enter another private room that was thankfully empty but strangely had the lights on.

"...Meticulous, but we can find another loophole in the matter if we look close enough to the witness account," Yoongi commented and is walking in the room where you were.

"So this is the private room of the restaurant that conveniently is connected to the bathhouse?" Yoongi asked and you panic because you hear his footsteps coming nearer and nearer to the sliding door. That's when you crawled into an empty cupboard that was there, fit yourself in the lowest compartment and folded your legs in as small as you can be, leaving a tiny gap open, just large enough for your eyes to see and listen.

"Yoongi is going to kill me..." you thought to yourself but you were honestly not scared. 

You only feared getting caught. 

Yoongi folded his legs underneath and that's when the Japanese sliding door opened to reveal a tattooed young man with the clear words in big blocks of Old English font: Sinner; on his back. You held your breath and widened your eyes. This man, gangster, who was putting on his Japanese robe, had striking blonde hair and undercut on the sides. His brows strong and purposeful in one glimpse, charismatic in another. You knew that this man was a leader with many loyal followers.

Yoongi was incredibly relaxed and you could tell that it was not his first time meeting this man. He was also cautious enough not to let you know.

"I'm sorry I almost forgot about today," Yoongi started to explain himself and next to Yoongi was another men with long earrings, chirpy and far too smiley to be in a gang, but he oozes an aura of loyalty. It's really difficult to see who else was there but you held on to listen more.

"The boss had been enduring several sleepless nights because he had been getting some unwanted calls from the authorities and wondering if there's anyway you could, pardon the harshness of my words, shut them up..." The young man had a high-pitched voice.

"I know, I've been pulling some strings as well, but it will take time. I want to talk to Namjoon...Jimin, alone." Yoongi dropped his gaze on the table and Namjoon eyed Jimin to leave. 

"...I will have to know what happened that night Namjoon," Yoongi explained, "I can't help you if you don't tell me a hundred percent."

Namjoon was visibly obedient by the request. He nodded twice and inhale then exhale, "I will give you all the information needed. I'm not exactly a clean slate to begin with," His voice was an octave lower than Yoongi's. More stories about to be unfold, once Namjoon fixed an appointment to meet Yoongi again, at a later and a more convenient time.

Yoongi excused himself and left Namjoon alone. You watched him sat there, hanging his head low before straightening up in his seat to nip another roll of sushi in his mouth. You were absolutely unafraid.

Yoongi returns to an empty car. He spun around to search for you. "Where the hell did she go?"

Pushing the sliding door open slowly, Namjoon froze in his seat, reaching for a blade underneath his cushion. He softens when he saw a drape of long hair falling on each side of your shoulder. Crawling on all four, you grunted out of your hiding place. And Namjoon began to chew slowly as if it didn't bother him.

"Didn't think I'd meet you this way," he grumbled.

"How much do I need to pay you to not bother Yoongi?" You spat.

And Namjoon answered that with a low chuckle. "...you think you can afford me?" He smiled to his food.

"I'm not playing Namjoon. He's not one of you." You warned, standing up.

"Because he graduates from law school and is from a good family? Congratulations," he was bemused by it.

You rolled your eyes to the side. Namjoon shoved another sheet of dried laver into his mouth. Unaffected by your childish play, he stares back at you like an audience to a performer. He was rather enjoying this.

"You didn't see me here today," you warned him, feet halfway out of the room when you heard Namjoon say, "No reunion kiss?"

Growling inwardly, you left the room undetected at came out of the Japanese Restaurant.

"Where were you?" Yoongi asked from a distance.

"I went to the bathroom, I was about to pee in my pants!" You jogged to him, crossing the empty street. "Hurry, we can still catch up if we go right now. The printing shop is still open."

You sat in the car while Yoongi settled the bills in the printing shop. Your phone dings a message from an unknown number. It said only one thing,

"Pandora, @ 1am."

Of course he'll have your number. Namjoon is capable of anything, including murder. 

The faceless and nameless man is Kim Namjoon. Watching Yoongi walked back into the car with two bags full of printed invitations card, you felt your heart tug. 

You were certain that this meeting needed to be done so he knows where you stand. You have a life now, and you're determined to keep it. That's why you're here in Pandora at 1 AM as instructed.

Namjoon stood by the handrails, overlooking the night sky, in a grey tuxedo and black dress shirt that compliments his blonde hairdo. His long arm stretch along one side while the other is holding a glass. Musky scent filled the open air on the verandah, in contrast of the hyped clubbing floor just underneath. The smell of cigarettes was still lingering around your nose making you appreciate Namjoon's cologne. Hearing the sound of your sneakers on the wooden surface of the veranda, Namjoon tipped his head up to the night sky, downing a glass of bourbon in his hand.

"Cancer sky's out here tonight to mock me, despicable stars," he rolled his head around, still giving you his back, "Funny how I almost thought you wouldn't come," he added a dry chuckle.

"I came to tell you that it's finally over," you sounded determined. Namjoon hung his head low then throw his head back, in a manner that a broken man should behave.

"He's treating you well?" he paused, smiling at the sky and biting his lips, "...With his expensive Rolex and Gucci ties, his Rolls Royce and wit? You like how he treats you?" He tries to edge you, he turns around to face you, leaning his back to the rails and watch the drink in his swirl with a tut of his tongue, his lips parted a little.

His elbow is on the handrail, as he took another sip, "You've always liked men in high places. Always falling for a fool with great brains," he said in a mocking tone. You marched straight at him and gritting your teeth while he fixes his stance, you growled, "...At least I was not starving."

His personal space was invaded and it was nothing foreign to him, "...I'll give him credit for that." He cocked his eyebrow, gliding his eyes away from you, challenging.

"It's always been about the money isn't it?" You heard him say, pulling his gaze back to you and you stepped back when he took a step forward, downing another painful gulp of strong alcohol into his throat. But the burns he felt in his systems is not as horrific as the wounds you left on him.

You spun around, throwing your hands in your hair before you turn to him and shove him back once, twice.

"I fucking loved you Namjoon. Very much," you growled in his face and stepped away, facing away from him.

"Yeah, but not enough to stay..." Namjoon taunted you while he tailed you.

You faced him one more time. Tears brimming, glassy eyes and pained.

"I would have died for you..." you choked, and, "...I would have fucking died for you."

You pushed banged his chest with your fist and gradually, you weakened as the tears spills.

"You know what we had, it was real..." your lips quivered, your eyes pleading at him to understand.

But his gaze remains hard and unaffected. Those eyes used to be so soft on you. Those hands only held yours and those arms were your home. Those lips belong to you and they say all the things you want to hear. Those intense gaze was yours to take.

Namjoon was yours, all yours.

In a small apartment in the outskirts of town, not more than five years ago, with broken windows and one bedroom, you were so in love. It was your little paradise where Namjoon is a troubled boy everyone stayed away from. Who gave you a peek of his sentimental side and made you fall for his dimpled smile, Namjoon was stained soul with untainted heart. But his appearance made people stay away from him. He couldn't find a job because people don't want to employ a young adult with a mistake he made in his teens. You were his only support system. With no job that pays enough, you were the one sacrificing your time to work in two places. You tutored in the day and worked in a convenience store at night. He walked you to work and back. And even when he smiles, you know he was upset.

"What's wrong baby?" You asked, curling your arm around his waist as you walked. Some people passes you by.

He dropped his gaze to the floor, "...I know what impressions I gave out. I see them giving me 'the eye'. I know I'm a piece of trash, they don't need to be loud about it. The car wash center fired me today, and no pay..." He chuckled dryly and you stopped in your tracks.

Namjoon continued walking but halted after a bit, turning his side at you.

"Come on, I want to be home," he waved his hand, coaxing you to come to him, "The rent is due this week and I have no idea how to pay that," he mumbled.

You put money into an envelope and slid them in the drawer when Namjoon showered. You were prepared. You always put money aside in case shit happened. He slid into the single bed with you, smelling like soap. The bed is so small, your legs overlapped his just to give him more space. Laying on top of him will provide both of you enough space to wriggle about, so it has been a common practice. You lay your head next to his chest where you could hear his heartbeat while his hand will find their way on the small of your back, rubbing them in meaningless circle, thumbing your flesh to soothe you. His touches are always entrancing, gentle and tender. Unlike anything his tattoos represent. He called your name when you're half awake, in whispers, and,

"Do you ever feel like leaving me?" He asked in a small gritty voice, "...you can have a better life without me, you know..." He blinked at the ceiling and inhaled.

That's when you gaze up to him in a newfound consciousness and gave him a peck on the lips, "...Don't say things like that, you know I would never survive a day without you."

He switches on his side and make you lay on your side as well. You lay face to face, while his arm draped lazily over your thin waist. Nose clashing with each other as he sighed,

"I only want what's best for you. I cannot promise you things I want to give you. I want to give you so much...I don't deserve you," his eyes were frightened so they glided away from you.

You look at him with certainty and affections, "...Hey, look at me."

They trail up to you, slowly, almost hesitantly, "...You will find another job. And they'll pay better. And don't worry about the rent, I got you," You patted his chest gently, twice, and an assured smile. He thumbed your chin and then let his thumb ran along the length of your lower lip. His eyes were fixated on it and slowly, he placed them in between his very own, and began to suckle them softly.

"What are we doing baby?" You sighed when he dove his face in your neck, and you feel his lips on that small patch of skin that's known to drive you over the edge without him doing much.

"...The only way I know now that will make you instantly happy," he grazed his teeth on that same spot, pulling you closer than you already are, his voice already throwing your conscience out the window. You don't have to tell him where to caress. Namjoon knows every little spot that would make you weak, like it was in the back of his hand. Guaranteed to make you a writhing mess underneath him.

Making love in small tight places. The fact that you can't make noises makes it even better and rewarding.

When it's good, it’s going great.

But desperation could drive any sane man to become what he's not. Namjoon was going to make money, and he didn't care how.

He didn't like to see you working two jobs and the household is doing things the other way around. You were earning money and raising him. It scarred his pride. So he resorted to the one place you told him not to go, the club. He was quickly and most frequently booked by many wealthy females.

Most of them were lonely widows and secret mistresses of powerful men, who paid Namjoon a remarkable amount of money for his time and a little fun. All the while he was beginning to create his rapport, he had money stacked in one bank account. No longer were you starving to pay the rent and even though he sometimes disappeared into thin air when you search for him, being able to afford things was becoming more important than the reason behind his frequent absence. He was extremely generous in bed and he got better with his words and brought himself with more confidence than before, it was a very good change.

He brought you out of that shitty apartment to a better one.

You have more space but you felt him drifting away. And you don’t know why. 

Walking home from work, alone is your everyday now. Namjoon traded his casuals to tuxedos and sandals to leather shoes. He began to bring home many colognes and tell you that it was a gift from the marketing team. One night you found a pink vibrant G-string in his black pants, while doing the laundry. Unable to wait for him to leave the tub, you stormed into the bathroom and threw them in his face. Disappointment. Betrayal.

Namjoon grabbed his robe and went after you, chanting, "Baby, I can explain! Its yours. I got it for you..." A stinging slap went across his face.

"You think I didn't know..." you tipped your head to one side, quizzically, grumbling back at him with glassy eyes, "I know you're fucking around with the widows in this city Namjoon. And wealthy women, you like money that much that you sold your dignity?" You cocked your head to one side, your voice clipped. You grabbed his wallet and took out all the cards he had.

"Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun after a long time." "Namjoon, I look forward to our next meeting." "I'm all yours Mr. Kim."

You scoffed. "You create quite a stir now ha... tattooed good-looking man with incredible proportions, you loved the attention? How dare you come home and kiss me with those filthy lips of yours."

"You wanted money. We wanted money." "Gained the right way!" You raised your voice at him. "Well the right way is taking too long!" And he roared just as loud.

You turned away from him, "...Unbelievable."

Namjoon shook his head, pinching his temples between two hands, "...Let's talk about it in the morning," he reaches for your arm and you yanked them away at once.

"Get your hands off of me," You grumbled. He clenched his jaws.

You grabbed your jacket and put on your jeans while he sat on the edge of the bed, covering his face and exhaling.

"Where are you going...it's 3AM," He sighed, "You're giving me a hard time right now. I did what I needed to do," he watched you shove some clothes in a backpack.

You added a chuckle, "My ass. If I was selling myself, we would make more than you ever did."

Zipping them up angrily, "Have fun fucking girls while I'm gone. I'm never coming back. You can give them my clothes," You yanked the door open and stormed out.

“I gave you everything you wanted… a better house, pretty clothes, good food, how dare you do this to me…” he growled, holding the door shut as you struggle to leave.

“That was what you wanted!” you roared in his face, and he visibly froze. You softened,

“I only wanted you,” your voice cracked, brittle and hushed.

It was obvious that he didn’t want the same thing. He was blinded by wealth. And he got comfortable standing on the middle ground at the cost of his soul.

Namjoon's performance dwindled down. He began losing clients, one by one. And although he had more than enough to maintain his lifestyle, he can never fill the hole you left. You cut too deep and he didn't intend to have your replacement anytime soon. His heart was a fool for you and only you.

You were gone for weeks. Jumping to one bathhouse to another with some money you saved from having two jobs. Namjoon knew where you worked so you decided to leave that job and find another. You took wages in doing small sewing jobs just to keep up with yourself. And one night, your free-lance job brought you back to Namjoon's place. You wondered from outside his windows why it's still on. Sitting at the curb to watch some more, you had clothes barely enough to keep you warm, gazing up at the level of his apartment. His extravagant penthouse.

"...Are you sleeping well without me?" You whispered to him as if he was there next to you. You fold your arms and rested them on your knees before laying your head on top of it. I’m not sleeping at all, you whispered in your heart.

Namjoon on your side of the bed. His eyes were unforgiving and he didn't allow himself to sleep since you left. He was going insane on his own that he began to speak to you as if you're in the same room.

"I left the door unlocked, and there's keys under the mat," he said. He sets two plates on the table when he eats while even without you. Bought your favourite chocolate bars that you two used to share. He sat in the walk-in wardrobe and took one of your clothes before sniffing them, inhaling your scent because he misses you so much he could barely think.

"Please come back... please." He prayed. It's just not the same without you.

You remember it all. How he stood by the lamp post with his flyers promoting jobs in his worn out shoes and foolish smile to every stranger that passes him by. Those flyers get stepped on, thrown away and torn. You remember how you gave up half of your instant noodles, so he could have more. Money pinching life, but the happiest you had ever been in your entire existence. It didn’t matter if it was raining and he’s drenched, giving out flyers, it didn’t matter if your back is sore from washing dishes in a nearby diner and finger calloused from days on end using detergents, it didn’t matter that it was a hard life to live because Namjoon was there to help you go on. You had Namjoon, 

and that was enough.

Just weeks to spare until the wedding. Invitation cards stack on the corner of your shared room. You shouldn’t be thinking about another man in the bed you shared with your fiance. You shouldn’t be thinking about his smile, or his laugh, or the way he looked at you. You shouldn’t be able to word every touch and every moment you spent with him. You shouldn’t be able to make of the shape of his face, the sound of his voice when he is angry, when he is happy or when he is sad, or remember with utmost precision where all his birthmarks are and you shouldn’t have remembered where your favorite one is, the one that’s on his upper right thigh. You shouldn’t be able to point the scars on his right knee and how long it was. You remembered him details. You remembered Namjoon in details. And it’s a wretched thing to do for a bride-to-be.

Tears streamed across your nose bridge, as you lay on the side, boring into the view of an opaque translucent curtain, moving softly. You wipe the tears harshly, with the back of your hand, along with the thoughts of Namjoon and that’s when you hear Yoongi coming in.

“Why are you’re up so late?” he crawled into bed, holding the blankets up, simultaneously, pressing his lips on your shoulder, draping his arm around your waist, inhaling your scent. Thunder crackling in the black sky, flickering lightning behind thick puffs of clouds, and then,

The rain pours. Just like that night.

Dusk until dawn, you promised me. 

Not even the rain could stop you two from wanting to dance in the streets. Your skin is wet from sweat and it washed down from the heavy rain. Big smiles on both of your faces, he twirls you around and you go on your tippy toes feeling absolutely safe even when the lightning strikes. Sharing one cup of noodles in the convenient store because that was all you could afford to not go starving for the night. You sewing up his only dress shirt’s button on while he stares down fondly at you, holding up the flashing lights because the room you both rented had the electricity cut off from outstanding bills. You both had nothing, and yet, everything.

You promised that I won’t be alone, and when things go wrong, you’d still be here. You promised. You lied.

You were a fool in love. You gave up your family for that boy. And where else could you have gone, if not back to your family? They built you up from scrap, had you meet the man you’re with today. The wind strikes your face the same way it did with Namjoon, but with feigned calamity. A false security and deceitful smile. Are you convincing yourself that you’re okay with the man you’ve promised to marry? Or are you deceiving yourself into believing that he was right to marry? Especially when you saw his greed to defend someone in the wrong? Just for the sake of his firm?

An unfinished business. A lingering string of thoughts. It buzzes through Namjoon’s mind as he sat in his leather chair, swirling his glass of wine. Scents of Mahogany strikes up his nostril, drilling through his thoughts at the possibility of jail time should he be proven guilty. The boy. Right, the college Chemistry boy.

He threatens the market. It was the only market that feeds Namjoon of his lavish expenses,his uncontrollable urge to possess everything he only dreamt of.

“It was the words that came out of that boy that made me feel he shouldn’t be alive,” Namjoon arched an eyebrow and Yoongi visibly stiffened. Tactless, and merciless--was the way he said it. Namjoon really did sell his soul to the devil. And he proceed to gorily describe how he killed the boy.

“He regurgitates, sputtering blood all over the cord I wrapped around his Adam’s apple, and I dragged his pulsating body through the dirt and put his face into the liquid cement that hasn’t dried. Then I put his entire body inside…” Namjoon’s dark gaze lifts up to meet Yoongi’s and he did the unthinkable,

He smiled.

Without remorse.

“D’you know what he said?” Namjoon rests his elbows on the edge of the table, “Called me a beggar. The nerve of that boy.” He chuckled. But Yoongi didn’t join.

Namjoon downed a mouthful of wine and left his chair. Army of loyal followers waiting for him outside. The police are at the door, with handcuffs. They have him remanded until trials began. Will he remains his stance as not guilty? It is hardly so, now that Yoongi had known the truth. The prosecution's will soon find out what other crimes he did. And he will be in jail for good. While he got remanded, he received a visitor.

“Does your fiance know, you’re here?” he asked, with that boyish grin you were familiar with.

“He won’t, if you don’t tell,” you snapped.

You took one long look to his figure, his face, the features that stood out, the tattoos that boldly peek through his neck hole and syncopate on his skin, his forearms and knuckles.

“Do they make you stronger? Those drawings on your skin?” you asked, through your lashes and your eyes tips up to meet his.

“The pain that comes while I’m getting them, does. It made me feel something after you were gone,” he shrugs his shoulders, sitting slouched in his chair.

“I’m getting married, Namjoon,” not wishing to beat around the bush anymore, you shot, “I’m really getting married…”

Namjoon jutted his chin out, hollowed his cheeks and somberly nodded. His gaze cast down to his lap, “I know…I’ll be in jail.”

You don’t love him, you pitied him. At least, that’s what you told yourself, forcing your eyes stay open and it stings, till tears fall to your cheek.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, even though he wasn’t even looking at you, he knew, and, “You should be happy, Yoongi’s a great person. You’ll be very happy. Even within this thick walls, I still make you cry…”

“Don’t tell me what to do…” you grumbled. Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you grab your purse and took out a bank account book he had shipped to your home address, “I can’t accept this.”

Along with the handwritten letters that came with it.

The chair scratched against the concrete floor, and Namjoon stared at the bank account book while you exited the room. His lips hung open and he blew hot air to his forehead as the door slammed shut behind you.

The crowds begin to cheer as you walk into the aisle, hand-in-hand with your father. He had a vibrant smile on, to match your subtle ones. And at the end of the aisle was Min Yoongi, your soon-to-be husband. And with every step approaching him, you leave Namjoon and his words behind.

This bank account I started when we rented a room in that run-down apartment.

Veils covered your face. Forward.

I made a vow that I’ll give them to you once the money inside is enough for a decent wedding.

Heart thumps. You tighten your grip around your father’s arm. Forward.

Of many promises that went unfulfilled,

Your knees feel loose but you held on. Forward. Forward.

At least I could fulfill these.

One last row and Yoongi is within reach. Forward.

I wish you happiness, even without me.

Namjoon basks in the sun in his prison attire, by the monkey bars, pondering about the love he had once received, and now lost. 

The cost of a million dollar house is his soul, his future and his past.

.

.

.

.

End.

[mattyfm]

new york’s very own matthew oliver was spotted on broadway street in converse . your resemblance to luke hemmings is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-fourth birthday bash . while living in nyc ,  you’ve been labeled as being temperamental , but also benevolent . i guess being a gemini explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be bubbly laughter, the smell of fresh coffee, & long drives to watch the sunset  .  ( cis male & he/him  )  +  ( monique , 20 , she/her , pst . )

my name is monique i’m both the baddest and saddest bitch you’ll ever meet and i have NEVER written a concise intro in my life, so be prepared for a lot of jumping around, incomplete thoughts, and information you didn’t ask for. without further ado let me introduce you to my angel boy matthew oliver.

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐬

full name. samuel matthew oliver.

nicknames. sam, sammy, matt, & matty (preferred name and most commonly refereed to as).

age. twenty-four.

date of birth. june 17th.

occupation. actor. (i might give him another job eventually but don’t hold me to that)

sexual / romantic orientation. bisexual & biromantic.

birthplace. asbury park, new jersey.

zodiac. gemini.

spoken languages. english.

𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

samuel mattew oliver was born to two extremely loving parents jeremy and elizabeth marie oliver, arguably one of the most influential celebrity couples known to man, at least that’s what it felt like growing up in the household, everyone was talking about the oliver’s and when they weren’t...well that never happened

as a middle child, preceded by his older brother mason, and succeeded by his younger sister cassandra, naturally he was born with a crave for validation, anything that separated him for his siblings

but naturally in his need to be different he found his closest allies, more so mason than cassie, but eventually she grew on him, and was most certainly not forced upon the dynamic duo of brother by their parents, but believe me he grew to adore her!

childhood was seemingly normal minus the bombarding questions from nosy students who wanted to know what it was like to have celebrity parents or be rich or live in a house with more bedrooms than necessary 

unlike his siblings however matty reveled in the attention way more than he let on, it was nice to be noticed for something, even if it wasn’t quite what he’d been hoping to be noticed for

but by no means was he stupid! he wouldn’t allow anyone to take advantage of him and had an unusual talent for knowing when people only wanted to use his friendship as some sort of gain for himself, and extended this talent to his sister cass, because boy oh boy did she need it

their dad who i forgot to mention was a professor at juiliard, his alma matter, caused a constant bouncing back and forth between their coastal home in new jersey and their urban townhouse in new york

both places felt like home to the trio! they made so many good memories, however matty was extremely preferential to the coast, and to this day maintains a beach boy vibe, swears everything is just better by the beach

going back to his upbringing for a minute high school rolled around for him and mason and he just became even more extremely protective of cassie, he went through things extremely unknown to his family

on the outside he was the model person and student, honor roll, a long glowing list of extracurriculars including sports, even holding down a normal job like everyone else at his high school, and not a single blemish in his criminal record, the squeaky clean olivers remained squeaky cleans

HOWEVER there was some shady stuff going on behind the scenes my guy, nothing too terrible, just the usual teenager with loving parents who raise a troubled teen, not because of any past trauma but a need to feel seen

DRUGS & ALCOHOL TW got into a lot of fight but always told them they had to fight after school, he got into drugs, nothing too hardcore, just weed (is that a weed i’m calling the police vibes).....at first.....but that’s a different story so moving on! he of course drank with his buddies at high school parties, honestly just vibing my guys, just straight vibes always

secret!!!!

CAR ACCIDENT TW & ALCOHOL TW & DEATH TW one day he’s vibing, it’s the summer they’re celebrating another school year complete, and by the end of the night nearly black out drunk at this point, he knows he can’t go home so he decides to get a ride home with a buddy he worked with, tell his parents that said buddy took him home after work, they worked on homework and fell asleep. and honestly had he had a little less to drink, he would’ve realized that his friend was just as drunk as he was, but they drove anyways. this lead to a drunken car accident, that ended in the death of a pedestrian. thankfully his friend’s dad was a lawyer, and they covered that shit up immediately.

after this whole ordeal choose an accelerated course of study to pursue his acting career, finally something people would talk about that would be solely his, like not really, but let him have his moment alright, he was desperate 

lowkey feels guilty about being a hypocrite towards cassie because he’s telling her not to do any of the thing 

ADDICTION TW he almost kicked his habit but getting back into acting and the guilt of having blood on his hands, was too much for matty, and he developed a drug / alcohol dependency, which he recognized was extremely harmful! he went to rehab! and has been very vocal about his struggle with addiction ever since

had an on set romance with a costar that crashed and burned, quite publicly, and was just not good for his mental health one bit! def didn’t help with his constantly teetering sobriety but he managed to get through it with the help of his family and his friends

acting wise he’s starred in a bunch of movies but his baby is the netflix show that he’s been working on, i would like to think it’s kind of a sitcom esque show mixed with the same comedic timing of the office, parks n rec, those kinda self-aware humor vibes

ADDICTION TW he plays one of the main character, and his dipped his toes into directing and writing a couple of episodes, the show truly gives me one day at a time vibes, just brings light to mental health, addiction, important issues you don’t normally see portrayed on tv, and he def plays schneider, the bumbling rich boy who does and says what he’s told, struggles with addiction, has a super childish nature, and just a hint of self-awareness but just a hint as a little treat

this is so ooc but i’m realizing he’s quite literally schneider from one day at a time

MENTAL HEALTH TW & ANXIETY TW has receded from that cool kid persona he once held back in what i refer to as his ‘glory days’ and is now extremely vulnerable to everything and everyone, will literally cry if you even look at him the wrong way. struggles with really bad anxiety, among other mental health issues (which is why his netflix show and he advocate so heavily for mental health!) but is quite literally one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, softness runs in the oliver family ig.

IS LITERALLY SO CHILDISH....where was once extremely mature for his age....he now copes with his trauma by just acting like a toddler, literally mixes chocolate milk IN HIS MOUTH like a heathen, but that still doesn’t stop him from being fiercely protective of cassie, and will fight anyone for her

currently vibing! filming, being his best(?) self, and making trips to the nj coast

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

positive traits. accommodating, adaptable, affable, affectionate, agreeable, altruistic, amiable, attentive, caring, cheerful, communicative, compassionate, considerate, courteous, creative, dependable, easy-going, empathetic, exuberant, friendly, fun-loving, generous, gentle, genuine, gregarious, helpful, honest, humane, humble, joyful, kind, lively, loyal, loving, optimistic, outgoing, passionate, playful, reliable, resilient, romantic, sincere, sociable, tender, trustworthy, thoughtful, understanding, and warm-hearted.

negative traits. anxious, amenable, avoidant, awkward, critical, defensive, disorganized, dogmatic, (over)emotional, evasive, foolish, forgetful, forgiving, gullible, headstrong, hopeless, idealistic, impatient, impulsive, irrational, messy, moody, oblivious, (over)protective, sensitive, shy, thoughtless, and weak-willed.

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

here’s some basic plot ideas but we can always brainstorm smth! friends, frenemies, enemies, friends to lovers, childhood friends, ex best friend, costars, unrequited crush, bad influence, exes, one night stand, roommates! i have

[incorrect-strq-quotes]

Rosebird Week 2019

Day 3: Mother AU

@rose-bird-week Day 3 takes place in a sort of modern AU where Raven and Summer are both single mothers, and Raven and Yang move in next door to Summer and Ruby (feel free to ask for some more details about this AU, I’ve been sitting on it for a little while). This is pretty much 100% fluff, don’t worry.

Enjoy :)

—

Ruby ran over the short, patchy dirt path that connected her front door to the next house over. She was only five years old, and her short legs could only carry her so fast, but she was familiar with the route; one of the pairs of feet responsible for wearing it into the grass belonged to her, after all.

The smallest porch chair was sitting where it always sat, up against the house and right under the doorbell. Ruby was still short, shortest in all her class, and needed the extra step. She scrambled on top of it like she had done a hundred times before and pressed the doorbell with all the eagerness she could possibly fit in her tiny body.

It was a deceivingly large amount.

The lock clicked and the door swung open. Ruby spread her arms and cheered, “it’s Friday!”

Yang’s Momma didn't really look anything like Yang, but Ruby still liked her a lot. She didn’t smile very much, and couldn’t make cookies anything like Mommy did, but she was good at telling stories, and let her stay up way past her bedtime when she spent the night. “Yang’s in her room,” Raven said with an almost-smile that was as familiar to Ruby as the path to Yang’s bedroom.

“Thank you!” Ruby squealed, right now ‘loud’ and ‘excited’ her only two settings. There wasn't much of a difference between the two, really. She jumped off of the porch chair and darted inside past Raven’s legs.

Through the living room, past the kitchen, Ruby burst through the second door on the left. “Sleepover night!” she said as loud as she could, barreling into Yang and throwing them both on the floor.

Yang and her Momma had moved in next door just before Ruby started kindergarten. Yang was a whole two years older than her and the coolest person that Ruby knew. She was in second grade.

“I already have my bag packed!” Yang laughed, squeezing Ruby in a tight hug like they hadn’t seen each other just that morning when Mommy drove them to school. “You have to let me up to get it though.”

Ruby scrambled off of her and bounced in place as patiently as she could. “Hurry!”

Yang darted over to her closet and pulled out a bright yellow backpack, zippers almost bursting. “Your house isn’t going anywhere, silly,” she laughed.

“It’s a sleepover,” Ruby emphasized, because obviously Yang wasn’t getting it.

Yang laughed again as she looped her bag’s straps over her shoulders. ‘Okay, okay! I’m ready!”

They barreled through the house towards the front door, and were not expecting their parents to be standing right in the middle of the entrance way.

“Mommy!” Ruby said in surprise, though it was Raven she skidded into. She wrapped her arms around one of Raven’s legs and stuck her tongue out at Yang. “I win!”

Yang had a bit more time to stop herself. “I didn’t know we were having a race,” she said back, though she didn't look too put out; Ruby always won their races.

Summer laughed and hugged Yang to her side. “Are you girls ready for your sleepover?”

“Yeah!” Yang cheered, while Ruby bounced up and down, still hugging Raven’s leg.

“You’re coming too, right?” she asked, staring up at her.

“Oh. Uh-” Raven looked away from Ruby, up at Summer.

“I made more than enough for dinner,” Summer supplied.

This was one of those moments when Ruby could see exactly how much alike Yang’s Momma and Yang really were. Her happy smile completely changed her face, and Ruby knew Mommy always brought out Raven’s happy smile.

“Well in that case, how can I resist?”

The truth was, there was no way in hell Raven could resist. Summer’s smile turned dazzling at her words, and there was nothing that Raven wouldn’t do to have that look directed at her for as long as possible.

She was in so much trouble.

Ruby, who finally let go of her leg, and Yang bounced ahead and led the way nextdoor. The smell of spaghetti and garlic bread hit them like a wall as soon as they entered the house. Summer’s cooking was definitely up there on the list of Raven’s favorite things. “It smells delicious,” she breathed, “now I’m really glad I said yes.”

Summer shot her a smirk that Raven would have described as flirty if she didn’t know any better. Except the lines around them were getting so blurred lately that she didn’t actually know if she did know any better at this point. “Oh I see, you only like me for my cooking.”

“There’s a lot of reasons I like you,” Raven purred in response.

And that was usually where their banter ended, with the flush that colored Summer’s cheeks and made Raven’s heart skip. Except for tonight -except, except, except.

Tonight, with a red-face and brilliant smile, Summer winked at her. An honest to god wink, playful and teasing. Raven wasn’t one to exaggerate, but she swore she was going to die.

“Alright, girls,” Summer turned around like Raven wasn’t having an internal crisis right in front of her, “the pillows and blankets should already be set up in the living room. Why don’t we wash our hands and set the table for dinner?”

Raven had to give herself a minute to control her pounding heart before she joined them, because something was different. She wasn’t used to not being in the know, but if anyone could throw her off her game it would definitely be Summer. Since day one, almost a year ago, she had never been able to get a read on the other woman. She had surprised herself when she decided that she wanted to get close enough to try.

Now they were close. Getting closer. Raven was at a loss about where to go from here.

Dinner with both Yang and Ruby at the table was always an ordeal. Especially with something as messy as spaghetti. Raven was glad they only lived next door because Yang needed new clothes twice. And luckily Ruby lived here because she needed to change clothes three times.

“I don’t know how you always end up so messy,” Summer was laughing as she led her daughter back out to the living room. “Now you girls pick a movie to play while Momma and I clean up the table.”

Raven paused in picking up the dishes from the table, chewing on Summer’s words. She supposed that it wasn’t that odd for Summer to refer to her as Momma. It’s what Yang called her, after all. She heard that more times in a day than her real name. So why did it feel different?

“You okay?”

Raven picked up the last of the plates, spurred into motion at Summer’s words. “Yeah. I'm pretty sure we’re going to have to take the table out back and hose it down.”

Summer laughed, which was Raven’s goal. “That bad?”

Raven set the dirty plates in the sink. “Apocalyptic,” she replied flatly.

Summer wiped the table down -without the use of the garden hose -while Raven grabbed the last of the utensils. They met back at the sink, like they’ve done so many times before this.

“I’m really glad you decided to come over,” Summer told her as she started running the water. She said it like this one night was different than any of the other nights she’s been over since they met.

Raven was flooded with a sense of relief that she wasn’t just imagining things. “And miss your cooking?” she teased, sure that that relief was seeping into her tone, pouring out through her words, “un-fucking-likely.”

Summer handed her a now-clean plate to dry, directing the full effect of the smirk that danced on her lips at Raven. “And here I thought you just enjoyed my company.”

Raven knew she was being teased, knew that her words were meant to be taken as a joke, but she had accepted a while ago that she was weak when it came to anything that had to do with Summer. “I do,” she said, staring down at the plate she was drying like it needed all her attention. “You-” she started, stopped, started again. “I like spending time with you.”

Summer bumped her with her hip, drawing Raven’s attention back to her face. Not really a difficult feat. “Well that’s good.” She handed her another plate as soon as she set down the first. “I like spending time with you, too. You and Yang have become such a big part of our lives, I-” It was Summer’s turn to turn away, drop her gaze to whatever her hands were doing. “I really like you, Raven,” she said. “And Ruby really likes you, and-” Summer looked back up at her, and Raven wasn’t sure if she could handle the full force of her eyes staring into her soul. Wanted nothing more than to drown in the feeling. “I’m just really glad you decided to come over.”

Raven really, really hoped she wasn't reading the situation wrong. She didn’t want to mess anything up, but she had always been one to take exactly what she wanted and worry about the consequences later. “Sum,” she murmured, setting down her towel and turning fully towards Summer.

“Hm?” Summer hummed, and Raven waited until she looked up. Waited until whatever Sumer saw in her eyes caused her hands to freeze on the plate she was scrubbing.

Not wasting any time with theatrics, she kissed her.

It was nothing like any other kiss Raven’s given, because Summer was nothing like any other person she’s known. Soft, tender, warm. All the feelings Raven never could see herself on the receiving end of in this life.

Summer dropped the plate she had been holding in the sink, and the resulting plop splashed flecks of soapy water onto Raven’s face. She’s never smiled this much all at once, never ruined a kiss with one, and the gentle laugh that Summer gave as she used her thumb to wipe away the soap suds made her chest ache in a wonderfully unfamiliar way.

Raven caught Summer’s lips with her own again, chasing that feeling. All of them. She’s never felt so much. Summer leaned into her chest, hands still wet. Raven couldn’t care any less at this moment.

The second kiss lasted a little longer than the first, but it was just as chaste. Their daughters were only in the next room over, and were masters of sneaking up on you when you’d rather they didn’t.

“I, um,” Summer stammered when they broke apart, faces still very close together.

‘I’m really glad I decided to come over,” Raven offered breathlessly.

“Yeah. That.”

They stared at each other in silence for far longer than necessary. Raven knew that she had to have some kind of dumb smile on her face, but she found that she didn't care. Let her see what I’m thinking, she said to herself, let her see everything I have.

“Mommy!” one of the girls called from the living room, Raven wasn’t paying attention to who it was. “The DVD won't work.”

Summer took a deep breath, smile shifting to something impossibly softer. “I’m coming, sweetheart,” she called back.

“I’ll take care of the rest of the dishes,” Raven told her.

“You sure?”

I’d do anything for you. “Yeah. You go relax.”

Raven’s words earned her a peck on the lips, the action so automatic and natural it felt like something they choreographed years ago instead of seconds. It still sent a thrill of excitement through her core, and it was probably good that the feeling had her rooted to the spot or Summer may not have been able to escape the kitchen after all.

When the dishes were finally clean, Raven joined Summer and the girls in the living room. She didn't pay much attention to whatever was on the tv -some animated movie with an excess of musical numbers that seemed to be Ruby’s favorite genre at the moment. She was far too preoccupied with replaying everything that had happened in the kitchen over and over in her head.

Too distracted by Summer moving to sit as close to her as possible on the couch, not leaving a single breath of space between them.

Is this okay, silver eyes asked silently as they stared up at her.

Raven carefully wrapped an arm over Summer’s shoulders so she could settle more comfortably against her side. This was more than okay, more than she ever thought to ask for, but she didn't trust her mouth to be able to convey any of that. Not with Summer snuggling against her side like she was, with one arm thrown easily across her stomach and her breath warm against Raven’s skin even through her night shirt.

Ruby and Yang both burst into a fit of giggles at whatever was just said in the movie. Raven smiled.

“I’d climb a mountain for you if you ever went crazy,” Ruby said matter of factly to Yang.

Yang gave her a push onto the cushions next to her. “You’re the crazy one,” she giggled.

Raven looked at the TV. They were watching Frozen. Again. Of course.

Ruby rolled over until she was laying on top of Yang. “I’d do anything for my crazy sister,” she sighed, full of her usual dramatics.

“Looks like I’ll have to teach my crazy sister a lesson.” Yang dug her fingers against Ruby’s sides, causing her to jump off of her with a shriek of laughter.

Against Raven’s side, Summer started a bit at the noise. She had been drifting off to sleep and hadn’t even heard the words that made Raven’s heart race.

Sister, huh?

“They’re just playing,” she murmured against the top of Summer’s head.

Summer hummed in acknowledgement, an adorably sleepy look on her face as she looked up at her.

It was purely uncontrollable impulse that led to Raven placing a careful kiss on Summer’s forehead.

“Waiting until I’m half asleep to be affectionate is so unfair,” Summer complained quietly, either too tired or too content to move.

The warm atmosphere was making them both bold. Raven realized -let herself entertain the thought -that everything she could possibly want was in the room with her right now. Oh how quickly everything can change. “Not my fault you’re falling asleep at eight o’clock.”

Summer frowned, pouted. Closed her eyes and snuggled tighter against Raven’s side. She didn't think she could get any closer. “You’re comfy,” she sighed quietly. “I can’t help it.”

Whatever this was, Raven didn’t want it to end. “Well lucky for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

Summer smiled. “Good.”

Summer woke up slowly, languidly. She didn’t remember falling asleep. Didn’t remember a time when she was ever this content. Warm. She idly entertained the idea of just not moving for the rest of the day, but knew before the notion had even fully formed that it couldn’t last very long.

“Mommy,” a small voice whispered, right on cue.

Summer opened her eyes to find Ruby’s chubby face mere inches from hers. “Morning monkey,” she murmured blearily. It’s been a while since she’s slept this hard. “What’s up?”

Awareness trickled back to her mind slowly. They were still in the living room, she realized, but her couch wasn’t usually so comfortable.

“It’s breakfast time!” Yang piped up from behind Ruby, not doing quite as good of a job at keeping her voice down.

Summer looked at the clock by the TV, blinking the morning grogginess out of her eyes. 7:47. A bit later than she normally started her day. “Yes, breakfast. Of course.” She tried to sit up, and a soft smile overtook her face when the arms around her waist tightened their hold. It wasn’t her couch that was comfortable at all. “Why don’t you two go sit at the table? I’ll make pancakes.”

Yang and Ruby cheered and raced off towards the kitchen, leaving Summer to relax back down against Raven, melt against her, and wish that she didn’t have to move ever again.

She was laying completely on top of Raven, head resting on her chest, legs settled between hers. Raven didn’t seem to mind, judging by the death grip she had around her waist, the leg bent at the knee caging her against the back of the couch. Summer didn’t remember laying down. The last thing she did remember was curling up against Raven's side, soft lips pressed against her face. But, well… it’s not like she was going to complain about it.

Gently, Summer brushed Raven’s hair off of her forehead, ran her fingers through the soft strands until crimson eyes opened in tired slits. “Rae, baby,” the endearment slipped easily off her tongue, sending a thrill to the pit of her stomach. “The kids are up.”

The displeased noise that Raven made only widened Summer’s smile. Still, the arms holding her captive loosened their grip, legs stretched and untangled, allowing Summer to get up. Even if it was the last thing she wanted to do. “Go back to sleep,” she told Raven quietly. “I can handle breakfast.” The look on Raven’s face was warmer than her usual mask, open and vulnerable. Summer’s heart clenched with a longing to start all her mornings like this.

“M’sure?” Raven rasped, the hold that sleep still had on her evident in her voice.

Summer leaned down to kiss her on the corner of her mouth. “I got them. You need the sleep.”

Raven smiled, even half asleep managing to make it look like an alluring smirk. But her eyes were already closing again, her breathing evening out.

“Alright,” Summer said to Ruby and Yang as she stood up and made her way to the kitchen. “What kind of pancakes do we want?”

“Chocolate chip!” Ruby cheered immediately.

Summer dropped a kiss on the top of both their heads. “Chocolate chip pancakes sound good, Yang?” she asked as she turned on the coffee maker.

Yang beamed up at her. “Yeah!”

Summer gathered the ingredients as Yang started telling them all about her new friends in her class.

“I already made a ton of friends.” Ruby was a rapt audience, hanging on her every word. “But Blake’s my best friend. She was super quiet when I first said hi to her, but yesterday she picked me to be her partner in gym!”

“I don’t have friends in school,” Ruby supplied matter-of-factly. Summer frowned, but Ruby kept going. “Except- except I got a sister now and that’s better!”

There was so much excitement in her voice, so much innocent joy that Summer let it go. Didn’t comment on anything her daughter said as the girls continued talking and she mixed the batter and heated up the skillet.

She thought about it, though. Thought about it longer and deeper than she probably should. Ruby was too young to understand the implications of what she had said, but the thought of her and Ruby with Raven and Yang… a family. The idea of it filled Summer with a tender joy that she wasn’t sure she could stop herself from embracing.

The first two pancakes were finished and put on plates for the girls. Ruby’s cut up and drenched in syrup, Yang’s still whole because she was a big girl now and claimed weeks ago that she was old enough to cut her own food. “Eat up,” Summer said when she put their plates on the table, “I put extra chocolate chips in them this time.”

Yang and Ruby dug in, appreciative “thank you”s given through full mouths.

Summer finished up the pancakes, left them under a towel to keep them warm, and poured herself a cup of coffee before joining Yang and Ruby at the table. She was more than content to soak in the lazy morning atmosphere, watch Ruby get syrup all over her face, Yang insist on trying to cut her pancakes with the side of her fork like she’s seen the grown ups do. It was nice, and Summer found herself already used to it.

Used to all of it.

“You could have slept more,” she said quietly when a familiar pair of arms wrapped themselves over her shoulders. She couldn’t have prevented the soft smile that spread across her face if her life depended on it.

Raven’s breath ghosted across her neck and cheek, nose brushing her ear. “I smelled coffee.” Soft lips pressed the shapes of the words against her skin.

It was all innocent enough, but Summer still glanced over at the two pairs of wide eyes watching their every move. “Rae,” she murmured. A temporary warning, not a rejection. A what are we going to tell them? kind of thing. She cared for Raven, alot, but what the girls thought mattered too. Ruby’s words earlier weren’t exactly a confirmation that she would be okay with- …whatever they were going to call this.

Raven lifted her head to look across the table, her thumb slowly stroking over the soft skin left exposed by the loose neckline of Summer’s worn nightshirt. Like she couldn’t stop herself from touching some part of her. Goosebumps erupted down Summer’s spine but she wasn’t ready to tell her to stop.

She couldn’t see Raven’s face, but the lazy smile was clear in her voice. “Do you care if I kiss Mommy?”

Summer knew Raven had intended the question for Ruby, just by the way she froze when the choroused giggles of “nope!” from both girls answered her. Summer tried not to laugh, but she was too full of happiness to hold anything back.

Raven shifted a bit stiffly at the sound of her laughter. Leaned down, thrown entirely off her game now, to probably place a kiss against Summer’s cheek.

Raven being so unbalanced by something as simple as Yang thinking of Summer as her mom -her other mom -was endearing. Tough, confident Raven stumbling through her actions was not something Summer was used to, so she figured that no one could really blame her for turning her head and catching Raven’s lips with her own.

The kiss was clumsy, off center, broken by grins and too much emotion. Raven relaxed into it, whatever storm that had entered her heart calmed back down to gentle waves. Ruby and Yang laughed through complaints of “eww” and “yuck!” that weren’t meant at all.

“Are you always this affectionate in the morning?” Summer asked, hoping for a yes. Hoping for an always.

Raven caught her gaze, something flashing in her eyes too elusive to name. “I guess you’ll just have to find out,” she answered, her words sounding a lot like a promise.

[aetherical-cosmos]

The Horrors We Bear: Part 2

(⚠ Trigger warning! Death, autopsy procedures, possible post-gore)

I felt I was at a complete loss.

I performed her autopsy, only to find that her lungs were full of water that was not native to Ul'dah but to the western Thanalan area, Vesper Bay to be precise. The silt and clay-like sediment there was slightly caked around her bronchioli and I couldn't really see any other cause of death but drowning. There was only a slight bit of blood in her lungs, possibly from vessels bursting as she inhaled so much water and the over-contracting of her lungs to dispel it. I chalked it up to a classic case of someone drowning her and left it at that.

Who would've done this to someone so young and full of life? Her name was Serena Torwyn. She belonged to a family who loved her. She had friends who were now mourning her loss. A wealthy merchant's daughter, she was in the prime of her life enjoying privileged luxuries but also made her mark in the world as a philanthropist and charitable towards those less fortunate. She was also engaged. However, what didn't escape me before learning this knowledge was the absence of said ring though it was obvious it was something she wore daily by the intention left upon her skin. Nothing of her past suggested anything but an honest, hard work, eager student to learn her family's craft in the jewel trade in order to see it succeed for her own goals. To have that all cut so short so senselessly began to make my blood boil.

My assistant Sera had been taking my notes as I guide her through the entire exam. I checked her eyes, they were milky white with the luster of death. I also checked her body for any other possible wounds, anything that would lead me in a possible direction for better evidence. Nothing. Defeated about this whole ordeal, I sent my entire lab staff home to be with their families so that I might have a bit more peace and quiet to concentrate on this case. All of the signs pointed to a malicious drowning; this was an angry death. I felt it in my bones as I started to cover her back up and place her body back within to cold storage.

The only way I'll know about the actual death is to retrieve some kind of evidence from the bay. Damn my lack of learning how to swim! Dad, Uncle Ivar, Uncle Reese? My brothers? I'm sure they'd be willing to lend a hand.

After such a long morning of trying to figure out what was to come of Serena's case the very next day, I felt I was at a complete loss.

As I sit here at my desk as I mentally prepare for the Torwyn autopsy, I just stare at the blank parchment in which I would start the preliminary findings of my report.

Vesper Bay in Thanalan is quite deep, despite how tranquil and inviting the surface of the water looks, and what evidence I've been able to gather from Serena's autopsy gave me samples of plant life and silt and debris that are not common to Horizon or even outside of Ul'dah. When running the samples that came from her lungs with local bodies of water, Vesper Bay was the closest match. Dad and Uncle Ivar braved early morning fog in order to get to the bottom of the bay and retrieve some samples of the mud and silt.

We had an absolute match.

So, what happened?

I start the autopsy with eagerness to retrieve the evidence needed; my findings collaborate that she was alive when she went into the water, as a fine white foam was found in her airways; the water that had eventually resurfaced and was churned while in the process of trying to be exuded from the body. This happens shortly after death, when the brain is still providing electrical impulses to the rest of the body as it struggles to stay alive without support from the heart or other vital organs.

I make a small incision with my scalpel at the lower area of her left lung, taking care that it doesn't collapse while I hold my finger over the cut to place a small glass tube into it to filter out the contents within. A collapsed lung was messy business and would disrupt whatever evidence may still be in her lungs in order to properly diagnose a CoD and retrieve evidence. The silty liquid within would filter out into a small bucket at the side of the table I kept her on. I'd do the same with the other lung once I gently pushed upon it to make certain that all of the liquid was expelled before I could perform the procedure.

I begin to cut through the layers of her skin and lungs to find that her bronchioli are covered and surrounded with tiny spores, speckles of mud and mold here and there, and lots of silt. He must've had her at close to the bottom when she took her last breath, whether it was shallow or deep water...the silt was the same throughout the bay floor. There is a larger amount of blood in her lungs, moreso than what would normally be found from a drowning. I follow the path through her nose and lower throat to the lungs and see nothing out of the ordinary.

Her lower throat was quite swollen from asphyxiation. I found it curious that a piece of that thick bay kelp was sitting around her throat when her body was brought back to the lab. Could the drowning have resulted from that?

My assistant, Sera Kierney, documents my findings as she remains with me. She's probably one of the few people in this office that has legible handwriting aside from myself and often I have her write out the obituaries for the deceased as she delivers them to the various city-state news criers for me. She's a very special girl, near and dear to my heart as her kindness towards her fellow man just completely astounds me. She sees me smile at her, she remains a safe distance away from me to protect herself from injury or infection.

"Is something wrong, Dr. Nicholaides?" She could always read my concerns like she had a sixth sense for it.

"Honestly, this death...it was angry, violent. I can't help but feel a screaming at the back of my mind that is nagging me forward to discover more about what had happened to her. Listen, Sera, the Sultansworn are requesting this report personally because they believe that the current investigation of certain Syndicate members could be partially related to this case. Whatever findings we come across will be presented to the Sultansworn as evidence. Don't say anything, this particular case has to be 'by the book' politically and if they're involved, this will be one way to find out."

Sera nodded. I could hear her continuing to scrawl out the dictation from me. I could trust her to know that everything I said would be recorded verbatum. "Dr. Nicholaides, this is technically my first time recording a drowning. Would we need to take any special care to the terminology that we use so that way it's easily understood by the officers reading the report?"

Gods, Sera. This is why I chose you.

"Yes. We need to make this as layman as possible for them to understand. Not everyone is familiar with our vocabulary. Medical definitions probably won't be as easily understood by the law enforcement officials as they are for the medical community. So, let's begin with proper, basic procedure about how to diagnose a CoD properly."

I take a deep breath, still inspecting Serena's inner organs for any other clues.

"Alright, let's start with the given obvious:

Drowning: suffocation due to immersion of the nostrils and mouth in a liquid.

Qualifications of Drowning:

• the mechanism of death is complex and varies somewhat with circumstances. It is not simply an asphyxiation due to suffocation in a liquid.

• immersion of the nostrils and mouth is the minimal requirement, typically the entire body is submerged in the liquid.

• the liquid is most commonly water but drowning can occur in any liquid e.g. beer, wine, or some other chemical solution.

Mechinism of Death:

Drowning in the aspirated water is rapidly absorbed from the alveoli into the circulation producing an expansion of blood volume, haemodilution and haemolysis. Within three minutes of submersion is circulatory overload, hyponatraemia and sodium/potassium imbalance together with myocardial hypoxia resulted in a dramatic collapse of systolic pressure quickly followed in the majority of cases by ventricular fibrillation.

In the case of Serena Torwyn, there is terminal pulmonary oedema:

Phases of Drowning:

1. Submersion is followed by struggle which subsides with exhaustion and drowning begins.

2. Breath holding lasts until carbon dioxide accumulation stimulates respiration resulting in inhalation of water.

3. Gulping of water coughing and vomiting is rapidly followed by loss of consciousness.

4. Profound unconsciousness and convulsions are associated with involuntary respiratory movements and the aspiration of water. Respiratory failure precedes heart failure in one-third of cases it is coincident in one-third and follows it in the other third.

5. Death occurs within 2 to 3 minutes. Death is almost invariable when the period of submersion exceeds 10 minutes.

Pathological findings thus far:

Foam in the airways;

Emphysema aquosum - The lungs are voluminous/bulky/ballooned. The pleural surface has a marbled appearance with grey-blue to dark red areas interspersed with pink and yellow-grey zones of more aerated tissue. They feel doughy and pit on pressure. On sectioning there is a flow of watery material. The appearances reflect active inspiration of air and water and cannot be reproduced by the passive flooding of the lungs with water.

Foreign material in airways, lungs and stomach - sand, kelp and silt are found in all airways;

Middle ear and mastoid air cell hemorrhage;

Along with the above listed, she was asphyxiated with the assailant behind her and pulling his force backward with an unidentified object's impression left against the skin of her throat and causing massive contusions from the collarbone to jawline areas."

Sera nodded as soon as I had finished speaking. "That sounds very thorough, Dr. Nicholaides. Is there anything else you'd like to add before I start to close this documentation?"

I had to stop and think about it for a moment. I shook my head. "No, none that I can think of, sweeting. I very much appreciate your diligence in making sure the wording is correct."

It was odd that all I could think of was the vision I received when I retrieved her body the night before as I began to close the chest cavity, weaving a fine twine in and out of her flesh as I tried to mend it together as best I could. Once I was done with that, to prevent what bleeding the body had left to do as it wasn't going to mend from the surgery, I peeled off my gloves and pulled out a large, thick, padded gauze to wrap Serena's cold body within to soak up any possible blood that would've leaked. It would've made for bad form if, during the funeral, blood started seeping through her clothes. I couldn't have a poor grieving family seeing such a gruesome sight after the traumatic loss of a loved one.

My assistant pulled out the appendage extensions, sliding them from underneath the main table as we propped Serena's arms upon them. I'd double check them to make sure there wasn't anything I didn't take note of. From there, Sera pulled her arms out, streamlining them above her head as we began rolling her torso, rotating her entire body so that it was a decent wrap. Once we felt content that we had used enough gauze, I used a bonding agent against some parchment paper to seal the gauze against her body to seal in any moisture.

Once I was finished with my work, I was exhausted. The intricate networks of nerves, tendons, and connective tissues are a map of frustration. Sera and I pushed the appendage extensions back underneath the main of the table, picking up her body, putting back on the gurney and wheeling it back to the cold storage. We pulled the metal pull-out ledge out just enough to place her body back upon it as carefully as possible. 1...2...3...we picked her body up via bedsheet and placed her back flatly upon it. Sera was tender in the handling of this young woman's body, being the utmost respectful as she wrapped the sheet back around Serena as if she was tucking her into bed. We pushed the metal ledge back into the cold storage door, Serena's body vaulted within.

I looked down at my clothes, thin cotton tunic and loose color-matching pants. I took off the layer above that as it had a few tiny amounts of blood on it. Instead of sending it to the laundry I just simply discarded it as I began to wash my hands, my thoughts drifting to how we were going to retrieve more evidence I needed from the bay. All I could think about was the cold water to running over the skin of my fingers as I tried to clear my mind. I looked down at my right index finger for a moment, thinking in parallel about where Serena's had cut off at the top digit. I shivered and shut the water off, flinging the water from my hands into the basin as I looked about for a towel. The soft cotton against my skin gave me a sort of odd comfort for a moment.

I walked back to my office and pulled my white lab coat around me. I had several, but this one was my particular favorite as it had "Zarabeth Corynne Nicholaides, Physician/Medical Examiner" monogrammed upon the area between my shoulder and breast. It also carried a few pins: my graduate pin from the academy labeling me a doctor, my honors pin from the place within my class I had graduated, and a commendation from the various city-states in Aldenard for my dedication to my job. One last one was there as it was an amethyst in a gold setting, heart-shaped and engraved "With Love, Daddy and Momma". I looked at it a moment and smiled, I hoped that I had reached that point in my life where they both had finally accepted my path of choice...I at least knew Daddy had. He's already once seen me hard at work, especially while I was comforting a grieving family.

Sera insisted on remaining to clean up the surgery theater. I couldn't help but smile. She knew that I had wanted to get out as soon as I could to take my first breather of the day though the sun was completely set. "Go on, I got this", she'd reassure me. I nodded, "You know how to get a hold of me if you need me for anything. As always, thank you so very much for all of your hard work Sera...it's very highly appreciated."

I walked out, locking her in as I always did. I nodded to the two Flames guarding the office door and took the short route to Iria's office in the Lavender Beds.

I had a sneaking suspicion that this particular case was going to be a difficult obstacle to overcome in the weeks and months ahead and I had to do everything I could to prepare myself mentally for it. I had mental endurance for days but, unlike the typical cases I usually handled on a day to day basis, this one was, I knew for a fact, going to be far more complex than anything that was routine for me. I could only hope that the mental acumen and investigative practices the law enforcement officials of the realm could meet the expectations and succeed the faith the public places into them to find the guilty party and bring them to justice. Time would only tell what was in store for me as the investigation started to unfold. My question wasn't one of whether or not I was prepared, but moreso of what would linger with me in the coming days ahead. It was an obvious given that this case would be a memorable one whether I chose to commit it to memory or not.

Someone would eventually be brought to justice with blood on their hands, and I would eagerly await the opportunity to learn of whom was the guilty party.