#sometimes i remember when we left. and it was abrupt and scary and something was wrong. and we didnt see someone for a very long time.

[prowl-autism-extraordinaire]

when i was a child i remember vividly the dread every time i looked down the stairs. i could walk down them and it was fine, but i had to keep my eyes on my feet. if i looked at the bottom of the stairs, i was gripped with a horror and a compulsion to run down as fast as i could, to hurl myself if running didnt seem fast enough. and years later mom asked if i remembered when i found my little brother at the bottom of the stairs, with a cracked skull and blood on the floor. i didnt. still dont. but i remember looking down the stairs and knowing in my bones i had to get to the bottom before it was too late

[angeart]

...I forget how evil you can be with cliffhangers sometimes D: You can't just leave it like that! What was next?? (yes I could guess but I'd rather have an Ange ramble :3 )

-🎀

oh wow i really left you hanging on that one, oopsie <3

after the Original Raven died, rei's soul... just... dragged another raven in. because he couldn't bear it. he couldn't, not with that, not like that.

this meant another twin bond had to snap so that our rei's could be patched up. for that, to at least somehow maintain things, a bunch of things needed to be... erased.

the new raven came in as a blank slate. no attachments! no memories.

the memory of original raven's death was also erased.

now this set off a whole different chain of events. rei never experienced that horrible traumatic event of being on that cliffside and seeing crying raven topple. he never had to be haunted by the words i need you being raven's last.

he never got to learn from that, in a way.

this new raven was clueless. didn't recognise anyone! so this started a whole spiral, and a family crisis. the abrupt amnesia was suddenly on the table, without anyone knowing the cause. they started rebuilding raven's foundations, and... raven remained the center of attention.

rei was even more invisible than before.

his pain was not important in any of this. not anymore. not ever raven could pay attention to that at this point.

but here's the thing. this raven didn't belong here. in this reality. in this world.

so the reality rejected him. slowly at first, and then all at once.

it got rid of him.

this means another raven has died.

and rei's bond, frayed and agonised, still couldn't allow raven to go.

so another raven came in!! (cue carousel music)

blank, again. no memory. the family had to deal with another amnesia out of the blue. nobody remembered the deaths. they thought this is still the same person.

and. it kept happening.

at some point, their dad left the picture.

their mom is doing her best. but she's so, so exhausted. working impossibly long hours on top of everything. and so a lot of the pressure was delegated to rei. look after your brother. make sure he's safe. make sure he knows how to get home. make sure he knows who we are.

all of that.

and rei wasn't meant to be the responsible one. he wasn't meant to be trusted with fragile things.

he doesn't know how to reconcile himself with this and still keep a semblance of his own life. it all just boils. he continues hurtling down bad paths.

well, he tried, at first. but eventually, the cycle became fatiguing and, honesly, hopeless. pointless, almost. so he started doing the bare minimum.

rei's current go-to strategy is to just orient raven enough and then promptly tell him to stay away and leave him be, because rei's the bad one between the two of them. he explains to him, in no uncertain terms, that he doesn't care. that raven doesn't want to be near him.

(and he does care. he still cares so damn much.)

(he just can't do this.)

eventually, the reality decided enough's enough. time to change something up, because this clearly isn't working.

this is where our raven enters.

our raven comes from a world where rei doesn't exist. he never had a sibling. there's no bond that needs to be erased for this to go smoothly.

so he's just yanked, and thrown in. all of him intact, including his memories.

which means he's different. he no longer follows the script rei has so meticulously written.

it also means that he's much more acutely aware that he doesn't belong here. he's much more susceptible to those reality glitches and the growing, impeding rejection. the shadows, the voices, the funky mirrors. all of it just building up around him into one big nightmare.

and i do have fun bits about all of this!! let's rewind slightly back and talk about our raven crossing over into this world!

as i said before, when raven first crosses realities, he's in a scary place for a little bit. that's an in-between world of sorts. there's a guide, and he instantly starts rambling off that this is a place for lost souls—and then he cuts off. "oh, it's you, raven."

he knows him.

he knows raven, because he's seen countless iterations of him pass through.

as they walk across this realm, they come across another person. and that person tells raven, who asks what does a world for lost souls even mean, that he isn't lost. which irks our guide! even though he knows it's true in this case.

and they sort of. argue! throwing in fun little foreshadowings like, do you really want to watch the same thing happen again for the hundreth time? and this is how things work and no they DON'T work, that's the whole point!

they also say,

"he's destroying his world!"

"it isn't his."

"goddammit, he's destroying SOMEONE'S world!"

"worlds."

"worlds!!"

"it's not his fault."

anyway, no, raven doesn't bother paying attention to them, too distracted by an inner pull towards an alleyway with an old, broken mirror.

the world transforms into a maze around him in a blink, and then opens up into an expanse of water that keeps rising. the guide ís back next to him, insisting that raven should be the one to control what's around them. telling raven to change it up. to make it safer.

but then the guide corrects himself, realising that it's not in raven's control. it's in theirs. all the other ravens.

it's all the trauma and misery that seeps in and dictates the shape of this place now.

raven and the guide proceed to have a stressed-out back-and-forth, where the guide doesn't provide any useful answers. he says he's the guide for lost souls, but raven isn't lost, so he can't really guide him. but! he can give him a piece of advice.

the advice is, your other self will show you the way. and to trust him.

of course raven just rolls his eyes because what the fuck.

the back of raven's neck tingles as if he was watched, and when he looks over, there's a mirror labyrinth. and he feels drawn in, as the water keeps incessantly rising, now swallowing up his legs.

before he can go, the guide stops him with a pensive, "he was right, you know." (he, as in, that other person the guide was arguing with before.) and he says, quietly, urgently, uneasily: "what do you think happens to people who succumb to the pull of that part of their soul that never belonged to them in the first place? to people who inadvertently step into an empty space just to fill it?" a short pause, and then a heavy finish: "... to people like you?"

raven doesn't get more than this.

the next thing he knows, the guide is gone, and the mirror maze is here, right around him.

the water never goes away. it keeps rushing in around him.

the mirror images are... disturbing, to say the least. ravens, countless of them, but not him. there's panic, there's blood, there is despair.

he doesn't really want to see it.

he keeps moving—swimming, now, his clothes dragging him down—realising that this maze might not have an end. that there might not be an exit. that he can't get out.

it's once the water rises far enough for him to realise that there is a ceiling that the panic truly sets in. he's swallowed up, caught, and no matter how much he screams, nobody is helping. (the mirror ravens now all watch him, drawn to his desperation like moths to a flame. looking on with sympathy, uncertainty, fear.)

despodently, he remembers the guide's words.

your other self will show you the way.

he's out of options. he takes his last breath and goes under, searching.

there is a mirror right in front of him.

the raven on the other side is water-drenched, but standing on dry land. he stares back with an indecipherable grief. drops trail down his cheeks.

he says, "i know how it feels." and then, quieter: "i'm sorry."

raven's lungs burn. his mind is filled with indescribable panic. darkness swims across his vision.

his mirror self half-whispers, brokenly: "this wasn't meant to happen."

it's at this point that raven blacks out.

there's a fuzzy sense of sinking, deeper and deeper into an endless ocean. the water is calm, heavy, pressing at him from every side. it all feels sleepy, slow motion. it feels like the end.

he's awoken sharply, his head ringing with words without a voice:

this world does not belong to you.

he wakes up in an unfamiliar bed.

<3

[vampiremonday]

Loosening tethers - personal stuff/thoughts since Thanksgiving

mentions of past death and other stuff

One of the first posts I remember making on this iteration of my tumblr was about my dad being in the hospital. It was 2019, and it was really scary. There was something life-threatening wrong with him, and I'd had plans to go see a friend of mine while she was visiting Gatlinburg with her family. I had to make a decision of whether or not to go, even though by the time I left, it seemed he would recover well.

I'd been coordinating with my mother over the phone. Even at the best of times, my mom wasn't really able to do errands that involved long-distance walking without something like a shopping cart to lean into.

I remember thinking that my dad really needed to make it through this. Without him, my mom wouldn't have had any quality of life whatsoever, due to the nature of her disability and access to any kind of financial help.

What I didn't know at the time was that my mom's body was probably already betraying her, more than she felt her lifelong disability already had. My dad did make it for the rest of her life, not even two years later.

It seems like longer than two years, because time in my life is divided into jobs and terms more than years and months.

I was in the process of emailing with the job I got in Japan, trying to find slightly more stable employment and realizing I had heard back from them but it got lost in the chaos when my dad was hurt.

When I was in Japan, my dad had to sometimes remind me to call my mom, too. I loved her, but for some reason I found it easier to talk to him. I didn't know there wouldn't be more time. We never do, do we?

I heard about what COVID was probably going to end up becoming in December 2019. I had already made the decision not to renew the Japan job for now, even though they asked us to. I needed to, for licensure reasons, find a teaching job in the US For a couple more full-years. I didn't know that COVID was really going to take a full year away.

I also didn't know that I'd be grateful, because it was her last year.

My mom died in December 2020.

I got a job in August 2021. I got another job in August 2022. Finally had the experience taken care of when I finished the school year in May 2023.

Two years went by fast. For the first school year, my dad and I talked a lot. The other person I had communication with from home was, occasionally, Jeff our neighbor. He's my dad's friend, probably his best and most like-minded friend. Even now, I feel like I would consider him more like a step-parent than my actual step-mother.

My dad got remarried in November 2022. He had been spending time with the woman who'd become my stepmother since early 2022. They knew each other before, and she'd attended his church at least since the death of her own husband before my mom's passing. I know I'd met her before her previous husband died. I remember their names but less their faces from years ago.

The thing is, despite it probably not seeming abrupt or sudden to my dad, I was home the first full week of October 2022. I only just got the sense that my dad and my future step-mother were considering each other romantically because she'd started buying dog-shirts for Charlie.

They got married on November 2nd or 3rd.

This meant that I went from having the relationship I'd had with my dad for years (both before and after my mom's death) in October to having this totally new, weirdly filtered thing at the end of November with scarcely a week's notice before they got married in a small two-witness, one-officiant ceremony at the church.

Ever since then, each time I have been back to my home area, it has been one performance after another. My stepmother makes overtures toward friendliness, but they are almost always couched in trying to confer with me about how to buy something my dad might like. Neither my dad nor I care that much about that kind of thing. She also bought me some pearl jewelry that first trip home. I do make it a point to wear them on special occasions. They were thoughtful and they're Actually Nice whereas most my jewelry on-hand is costumey. Fine.

But every. single. time. I have been home with the exception of when I had to come right after their first anniversary as a result of getting into a car accident and needing to shop for a new car, my stepmother has found some reason to get angry or ~hurt~ about something pertaining to me. Either it is directly related to my behavior or it is related to my dad spending too long one-on-one with me and leaving her out of something without a play-by-play often enough. Every. Time.

It's weird and uncomfortable. It's a kind of jealousy that is entirely inappropriate to have about a father and daughter.

And really, what it has done is completely take my sense of "home" away from me.

My dad still owns the house my parents bought in 2009. It's been a long and arduous process to empty it of anything we want to keep so it can have an estate sale and then a sale of the house itself. Sometime back in the warmer months, I was there and went by to get something. I started crying and couldn't stop for over an hour as we were leaving. I realized that something was over in that moment that hadn't been before that moment. Or, at least, it hadn't sunk in.

For some reason, my stepmother wanted me there when they were looking at houses to finally buy one together after they sold her old one. I don't even know why, now. Something bothers her every time I'm there.

And the fact is, my stepmother is carrying around a ton of damage and trauma from both her childhood and her past adult life. She also has a child she has a strained relationship with, and I'm sure she's jealous and it bothers her that, for the most part, my dad and I actually like each other.

But it doesn't seem to matter anymore.

My dad is doing his best. He tries to call her out on her bullshit when she's being unfair. And it is acute instances. The problem is that the acute instances that she would like to sweep under the rug and pretend never happened happen each time I come up there. It's just exhausting, and whether she does it by intention or not, it feels like ultimately, she's going to "win." I'll just stop coming. Just stop intruding.

And it breaks my heart, because my relationship with my dad isn't at that point. However, he is determined to stay married to her and determined to do the best he can with me. I just think that this might mean that it's finally time to accept the life that many adults have with their parents they still talk to. Seeing him a week a year, if that. Trying to have my own life, separate and detached.

I haven't ever been able to do that.

When my mom died, on top of all of the grief, there was the sudden freedom that I was no longer expected to settle down in a 30 mile radius so as to avoid breaking her heart. When I got a job six hours away, my dad and I cried a little but it wasn't the end of the world.

But now, it doesn't matter than I live only three hours away. If I need him to, they'll make the trip to the halfway point to meet me for this or that, but everything includes her now, and if she feels left out for a few hours, it's something for her to hold ever him even though he doesn't take it or let it go, and it's just... crap.

It doesn't matter, though. I can't be responsible for his relationship with her. The problem, then, is that I don't know how to maintain our relationship anymore. I want to, and so I know that if and when I make an adjustment to only being able to be in his presence for a few days a year, it'll break something between us and for him. But I feel like he, unintentionally, broke it first.

I got an email about a job in Japan. It might be a good thing. It would mean seeing him in person significantly less. I am hoping and praying that the chips will fall where they should, but if they fall toward me going to Japan, it's going to suck to tell him.

Before, I would have told him already, but now... I don't want him to borrow grief for something that isn't happening, but I have to grieve something that is.

[retrievablememories]

the second time around | jaehyun

title: the second time around pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: fluff, some angst request: “Hi! Here’s a suggestion for a story or add-on to another story you wrote. I really liked moonlight w/ jaehyun! Could you do a follow up with him not seeing her for awhile and him (and her secretly) being pissed about it but wants to reconnect with her but outside of being a customer. Ty and keep up the good work with your writing.” word count: 2.9k warnings: a couple mentions of sex a/n: hmm...the sequel to moonlight...sequels are scary to write but here we are lol. this could’ve been posted last sunday really but i’ve been stalling oof

Despite getting Jaehyun’s number after that night at the strip club, you’ve seen and heard a lot less of him than you’d like. On his end, Jaehyun isn’t so pleased about losing touch either, but you wouldn’t know that with the lack of communication.

Both of you are ultimately busy with your own lives, and it’s not like he can just drop in whenever he wants to visit you. Not just because he’s busy, but also because of where you work. The men keep their visits to the club on a once-a-month basis for a reason—to avoid tipping off any stalkers who’d find out and leak their whereabouts.

You’ve texted each other a few times since your first meeting, and you enjoyed the conversations you got to have within that timespan, but the time between responses kept getting longer—on both of your ends—until things eventually dropped off.

You were unhappy about this, though you tried not to be so obvious about it to the other girls. Getting attached to customers was not a good look. Even if they were handsome and nice and had good dick.

However, Anya was the first to notice your slightly sour mood despite your best efforts to project an unphased demeanor. And, being her usual nosy self, she managed to pry it out of you before you could even think about denying it.

“Don’t stress about it,” she’d told you on the night you finally spilled the beans. She’d wrapped her arms around your shoulders and tipped your chin up, making you hold your head up higher and look at yourself in the mirror reflection facing you. “There will be many more men where he came from. And if you don’t wanna deal with any more men right now, that’s fine too. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, anyway.”

“I’m not stressing over it,” you’d argued, sighing. “We don’t stress over men who aren’t boyfriends, remember?”

Anya grinned then, though you could tell it was the kind of smile you give when a friend is doing something they shouldn’t be—or indulging in something they think is good for them when it’s not. “Duh. But you might wanna start following your own advice if you’re gonna be dishing it out!” And then she’d gone off to do her own thing, probably to finish getting ready for her set later that night or to go bother one of her favorite bartenders.

You’d looked at yourself in the mirror more closely, frowning at the truthfulness of her statement and wishing you had not been quite so easy to read. You’d had a show right after that, which allowed you to take your mind off the mess for at least a few hours. But in the small moments when you weren’t thinking about work or school or anything else you had to do, Jaehyun crept back into your mind like a specter, wanting you to acknowledge him even though you weren’t getting the same.

When you head out to the parking lot after a particularly long night, you slow your steps when you see a man leaning against his car, his cap pulled over his eyes and his head low. In any other scenario, you probably would’ve alerted one of the bouncers, thinking he was some creep waiting until after your stage to try to corner you in a shady area. However, you hold off on calling anybody because you can clearly recognize him even if he thinks he’s being inconspicuous—it’s Jaehyun.

He lifts his head when he hears your shoes on the ground, and his lips turn up into something of a smile.

“If you wanted another dance, you’re a bit late. We just closed,” you say jokingly, raising an eyebrow at him. Jaehyun shakes his head.

“Tempting idea, but that’s not what I came here for.” He turns to face you fully now, observing you in your casual, after-work clothes. In the back of your mind, you realize this is the first time he’s seen you outside the context of performing. Then he sighs. “It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

“I know.” Your familiar irritation rises again. Sure, maybe him coming to see you or you going to see him more often isn’t feasible. A text or a call, though...would be decidedly less effort, and not difficult to do. You’re not sure whether to be more irritated with him or yourself about not trying to reach out again, though you decide to aim your annoyance at him just because you can.

Jaehyun nods to your agreement. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine,” you say. “Work is...work. It has its ups and downs. How are you? Busy with the idol life?”

Jaehyun sighs. “Yeah...it just gets…stressful sometimes.” He bites his lip and shakes his head, seeming bothered about whatever’s going on with his job but not wanting to say much more about it.

“I’m sure,” you respond, and you don’t really know what to say afterwards. It’s been a while since either of you talked, and it’s strangely hard to try to pick up where you left off as if nothing happened. Jaehyun realizes this, too, and appears distressed at not knowing how to keep the conversation going with you—and possibly wasting your time.

You nod to yourself and shift on your feet. “Well, the Uber will probably be here soon, so—”

“I don’t know what things will look like between us, but I don’t want us to fall out of contact again,” Jaehyun blurts out, then winces. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just...don’t want either of us to leave before we...sort this out, I guess.”

You think to yourself, wondering if this is really worth trying to pursue. You’ve yet to deal with a man with the level of fame that Jaehyun has, yet with such a strict image to keep, which makes things exponentially more complicated. But despite your apprehension, you still want to know where this could lead. After a moment, you say, “Well, if you’re willing...I’d like the same.”

Jaehyun nods and stands up a little straighter, like that response just gave him the energy he needed. “Do you wanna….go somewhere? Just to like, hang out.” His proposition is abrupt, and you didn’t expect it. 

“Now?” You check your phone, and it’s 18 minutes past 2 a.m. There aren’t too many places that will still be open at this hour, other than establishments similar to your line of work, but you aren’t in the mood for any more of that tonight. Your driver, too, is only a few minutes away, but you already find yourself with your finger hovering over the Cancel button. “We could.”

Jaehyun goes around to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for you. You get into his car, noting its sleek interior. Once he gets in, he asks you what you want to hear, and you notice he’s looking through his Spotify. You shrug.

“I don’t know. Show me something you like,” you say. You cringe at sounding so disinterested, which makes you realize you might just be a little more upset about being ghosted than you thought you were. You almost want to curse at how this dude is taking you off your usual game. “I mean, I like hearing new music anyway, so…”

Jaehyun starts the car and grins slightly. “Alright, then let me show you the best of the best…” You both end up listening and vibing to a playlist he’s made, which is good. Not that you didn’t expect it to be, but you end up liking most of the songs he shows you, which usually doesn’t happen with other people’s playlists.

Jaehyun ends up taking you to an ice cream place that’s still open this late, to your surprise. The sitting area inside the store is closed, though they’ve kept the drive-thru open for late-night travelers like yourselves who want a quick treat. You don’t question it, though; you definitely won’t pass up a chance for some ice cream.

You end up eating the ice cream while sitting in his car and listening to the rest of his playlist. Neither of you say much other than commenting on the songs or talking about your favorite ice cream flavors or making other non-committal small talk. You kind of prefer it this way, at least for the moment—just listening to the music and watching the headlights and taillights of cars that pass by.

You and Jaehyun ride around the city for a while longer after finishing the ice cream, not intending to go anywhere in particular but just coasting on the highways. It might be an excuse to keep listening to this new playlist he’s put on, or maybe more reason to pretend that awkward period between you never happened. Acknowledging it in a way, but not speaking any life into it. 

Eventually, though, it has to arise back to the surface. Jaehyun taps his fingers against the steering wheel at a red light, like he’s impatient to get somewhere, and you wonder what he’s feeling until he comes out and says,

“I think it was...ultimately my fault for not contacting you more. Or not trying to stay in contact.”

The words hang in the air for a moment. “Well, I won’t argue with that,” you finally respond.

“It’s just hard to get close to anyone and be an idol at the same time. Sometimes I sabotage myself when I shouldn’t, and…” He trails off, though you don’t know whether he’s searching for the words or has decided to leave his sentence at that.

“You’d rather not be embarrassed by dating a stripper, or something along those lines?” Your tone is nonchalant, though you’re a little bothered by saying it. He wouldn’t be the first or the last person to feel some type of way about your job, though you’ve mostly gotten used to the judgment at this point.

Jaehyun seems a bit startled by the statement. “If you like doing it, then I don’t care what you do. You should live your life however you want to.”

“I see,” you say slowly. “Most men I meet outside of the club are not receptive to it, so you ain’t gotta lie if you feel some other way about it, seriously...”

“I’m serious,” he insists. “You told me that day that you liked it, and I believed you. I just think...we should all be able to do things we enjoy without worrying about what others think of it.”

Jaehyun turns to look at you for a moment, and his features are lit up by the street light as it turns green. His face, which is simultaneously painted with shadows and glowing with light, appears to be just as genuine as he sounds. Or maybe this late-night atmosphere just has you feeling more receptive and sentimental than usual. Then he broaches the next subject carefully, steering you back to where the conversation began. “You didn’t text me anymore, either.”

“I figured you’d moved on or something, maybe started talking to someone else…” you reply. “And, you know, if that was the case...so be it. There wouldn’t be a point to chasing someone who wasn’t interested anymore.”

“I am interested.” Jaehyun rushes the words out, like he’s eager to dispel the uncertainty before you get the wrong idea; not that that hasn’t already happened, but still. It isn’t too late to change your mind. “I want to like, know you as a person...not just while being a customer at the club, or something like that.”

You nod, looking at your hands and considering his words. “We can do that...yeah, we can.” Then you hold your hand out to him, a grin playing on your lips. “Nice to meet you, then. I’m Y/N.”

He smiles too, and takes your hand in one of his. “I’m Jaehyun.”

The conversation after that seems to reach a turning point, like somehow you’ve broken the ice and can finally talk to each other on a deeper level without worrying about the issue that’s been lingering over your heads all night. You think you could talk to him like this for hours if you wanted to, if there was enough time in the world for it. 

Unfortunately, though, you don’t have as much time as you’d like, and once it starts edging on 4 AM, you both decide it’s probably best to call it a night. Jaehyun takes you back to your apartment after you tell him where it is.

He parks in front of the apartment complex, and you’re prepared to thank him for the night and get out, but he insists on walking you up to your apartment—something about it being too dangerous for women to walk alone at night.

“It’s not that far.” You laugh, but you aren’t going to argue about it if it means getting a few more moments with him.

Jaehyun follows you up the steps after you both get out of the car. You walk a little slower to prolong the moment, but eventually you have to get up to your apartment door. You also take your time with taking your keys out of your bag and putting them in the lock. And maybe you’re not as slick as you thought, because Jaehyun notices. He laughs quietly behind you, but the sound isn’t low enough to escape your hearing.

You turn around to look at him, your hand on the doorknob. “Well, I guess that’s it. Thanks for the ride...and for the ice cream, you know.”

He nods, and one of his dimples pokes out. “You didn’t have to entertain me tonight, but I’m glad you did...so, thanks.”

Both of you linger in your doorway for a few more moments. Jaehyun wants to come in, and you know it, but you also know he probably won’t say it because he technically shouldn’t. His members are expecting him back at the dorm. He doesn’t want to impose, and he didn’t even bring any extra clothes. But you know he wants to come in, and you want it, too.

You tilt your head to the side. “Would it be bad if I asked you to stay?” you say tentatively.

A slow smile spreads on his face. “No, it wouldn’t.”

You open the door wider so he can step inside and take his shoes off at the entrance. You lead him to your living room by the hand. “What do you wanna do?” you ask, looking at him imploringly. You want to be sure you’re both on the same page concerning your intentions.

“Whatever you wanna do,” he echoes, holding your hand a bit tighter. You expect to see lust or some similar desire in his expression and had already figured you might end up having sex again tonight, but his eyes expect nothing from you. He only smiles in the dim light of your apartment and waits for you to make the next move.

You laugh, and it comes out as an airy chuckle. “Well, then...I want to lay down. It’s been a long day.” From your tone, Jaehyun understands that you really just want to lie down and not think about much of anything else right now. He follows you when you lead him into your bedroom and sits patiently on your bed while you go to the bathroom to change into your night clothes. You’re thankful you already took a shower at the club, because you’re not sure you’d have the energy to do all that now.

He’s taken his jeans off when you come back into the room, though he still keeps his shirt on. You get onto the bed and lean over him, hooking your finger into the collar of his shirt, and he looks up at you. “You can take this off if you want, I don’t care.”

“Is this you saying you want to see me shirtless?” He grins, though he readily takes the invitation and pulls his shirt off, placing it to the side along with his pants.

You shake your head good-naturedly, a smile on your face. “I promise it’s innocent…but the view never hurts.”

You peel the sheets back and you both climb underneath them, lying across from each other and looking at each other like you want to say something more but aren’t sure what. There isn’t much light in the room except for the street lights coming from your bedroom window, muted slightly by the blinds.

Jaehyun laughs suddenly, breaking the silence, and you do the same. You’re not sure why either of you are laughing, but you do so anyway, simply enjoying the moment for what it is. After your laughter dies down, he takes your hand from where it’s resting on the pillow and slips his pinky around yours. “I’ll try not to lose you this time.”

You lean a little closer to his face so you can plant a kiss on his lips—just a short and soft touch. He tastes like ice cream, and somehow you know there will be many more kisses like this in the future. “You better not.”

[archaneanscribe]

Big Girls Cry

I wanted some MinPalla childhood sweethearts, inspired by their mini-alts in FEH. Part of the Archanea Chronicles.

When their mother died, Palla did not cry.

Est was one, but due to their mother’s illness she had seen more of the local midwife and her sisters than she ever did of their mother, so only cried as much as a baby normally cries.

Catria was five, and she cried a whole, whole lot. She gripped Palla’s skirt and wailed, snot and tears dripping down her face. She woke up and cried, and went to sleep crying.

When you’re eight like Palla, you’re a big girl- so that means no more crying. That’s what she reminded herself over and over when the tears threatened, anyway.  She knew Mother wouldn’t agree, would tell her that it’s okay for big girls to cry, that it’s okay for anyone to cry.

But Mother was gone. They had lost Father only a year ago, and now she was gone too.

It was just the three of them.

So she was going to be the best big sister ever, and be super tough. If she cried, they would know that there was a chance things wouldn’t be okay. She was going to work to be so strong that nothing could ever hurt her little sisters ever again.

The captain of the pegasus division of the Macedonian army, Mylla, had always told her she was too young to follow in her mother’s footsteps, that she had a few more years to grow.

But the day after the funeral, her mind had changed. 

First thing in the morning, training lance gripped in hand, Palla approached her again, mouth knit into a tight, determined frown.

“Lass, look-” the older woman began, as always, but now she paused, expression stricken with an emotion that Palla couldn’t yet decipher, “That’s quite the face you're making. Not the face of a young girl anymore.”

Her grip tightened.

Sighing, the captain’s shoulders slumped, “If you’re so determined, you can train with the Princess. Normally only the royal family start this young, but I suppose she wouldn’t mind a sparring partner her own age. Follow me.”

Her face perked up at the mention of Princess Minerva, “Oh, thank you!”

Of course, she had known about the first princess for some time. Her mother had been the queen’s personal vassal before both their deaths, so Palla had been told from a young age she would likely inherit a similar duty. She followed close at Mylla’s heels, into the castle walls. Another place she had visited briefly with her mother, but she had never gone through this way, into the royal guard’s training area.

When they arrived, they found a girl who couldn’t be any older than she was having her footing be critiqued by an older man.

“Oi, Odger!” Mylla called out to catch his attention. He turned to look at them, his grizzled but not unfriendly face reminding Palla of her father in many ways. The girl, who she realized must be Princess Minerva, looked at her with curiosity. Maybe she didn’t get to see a lot of other kids?

The man named Odger relaxed his posture, gesturing to Palla, who was overcome with a sudden wave of shyness and hid behind the Captain, “What’ve you got there? New recruit for the guard? A little young, ain’t she?”

Mylla stepped aside and gave the young girl a gentle push, sending her stumbling forward into focus. Mustering her courage, she stood up straight, holding her lance in the way she remembered seeing her mother do when speaking to the late queen, deferential yet confident, “I’m Palla, sir. Atheleys daughter. I want to become a pegasus knight like my mother was.”

He gazed at her impassively, “What if I said you’re not old enough? Isn’t that what Mylla has been telling ‘ya?”

She knew that she shouldn’t say what she was about to, that with the strict way the Macedonian military operated, she could ruin her chances of ever getting a position in the corps, but the repressed feelings from her mother’s passing bubbled to the surface as she replied, heatedly, “I would say that I am old enough. I watched my Mother my whole life. Give me time and I’ll surpass everyone!”

For a moment following their outburst, there was silence, but it was quickly followed by raucous laughter from Odger, who pat his belly jovially, “Careful talking to yer superiors like that, little lady! If I was anyone but a retired knight turned combat instructor, there'd be some real consequences,” he calmed down, settling his face into a soft smile, “I see you’re truly serious. It won’t be easy, and you won’t get any special treatment- just like this one here doesn’t.”

The Princess nodded gravely.

“Show up tomorrow at sun up, and be ready. I won’t be teaching you the basics.”

“Thank you, sir! I’ll do my best!”

---

He was serious when he said it wouldn’t be easy. Every evening when she came home to her sisters, it was in a state of exhaustion and ache, every muscle complaining at once.

That doesn’t mean she wasn’t enjoying herself.

Every lance swing, every knee scrape, made her feel closer to her mother, which in turn made her stomach churn less when Est looked up at her and called her “Mama!” before being corrected,

And, of course, there was her training partner.

Princess Minerva was a serious girl, in much the same way Catria seemed poised to become. There was a look on her face that Palla knew meant she planned to be a fighter her whole life, and that this training was not just exercise- but might one day keep her alive. 

But if you got her talking about her brother, baby sister, or the pegasus she had been working with, it was an entirely different story. Her eyes would light up and she would laugh and swing her arms around recounting the story of the way her little sibling finally said her name for the first time.

“She can only call me ‘Min’ right now,” she recounted as they took a break to eat some lunch, smiling as she wiped some crumbs off her face, “But the nursemaid told me that in a few months she will likely be able to say my full name.”

“I remember when Catria used to call me ‘Pal’,” Palla replied, swallowing her bite of bread, “Its’ nice that you’re a big sister too. I get lonely sometimes when I only get to see my sisters.”

Minerva nodded, “I understand. I love my brother and my sister, but I enjoy speaking to someone close to my own age. Father said it would be good for me. He wants me to be strong, but,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “He’s actually nice. Him and my brother can be scary, but they’re both very kind.”

Palla giggled, “My mother was the same way. Everyone said she was so serious, but she always played with me and read me lots of stories.”

“...do you miss your mother very much?”

Her head snapped up at this abrupt question to look at Minerva, who was turned away to hide her face, “I miss my mother.”

She sometimes forgot that the Princess had lost a parent as well, “...Yes. I miss her a whole lot. But,” she reached out to pat her companion’s knee, “I’m doing just fine! I’m going to be just as strong as she was. So you don’t have to worry about me!”

Because she was a big girl! Big girls didn’t think about their mother and cry into their pillows, or want to scream whenever they saw someone holding their mother’s hand!

Minerva moved to face her now, face twisted in confusion, looking like she had something to say but just didn’t know the right words, “Palla, I-”

“Times up, kiddos!” Odger’s voice shattered the tense atmosphere between them. So the conversation was left behind- but not forgotten.

---

It was many months later, nearing Palla’s tenth birthday, that Minerva stopped her before she headed home. The sun was setting and it’s final rays were streaming into the open area of the royal training area. Odger had already left, so it was only the two of them.

“Palla.”

“Yes, Lady Minerva?”

Minerva’s hand was on her wrist, holding her in place for the ensuing silence, before the Princess finally gathered her courage, “I was thinking about... when we get older.”

“When we get older?”

“Yes,” she took a deep breath, and spoke in that serious, assured tone she always did, “We should get married. That way, I can always make sure you’re not lonely or sad.”

Palla’s eyes widened, cheeks reddened, and jaw dropped, “Married!?”

Minerva’s face twisted like it had that day nearly a year ago, but this time, she was able to voice her thoughts, “When you leave, my heart hurts, because I know that you are sad- you always smile when you come here, but there are times I see you nearly in tears. The thought of you being lonely makes me quite angry. I want to make sure you’re always actually happy. Marriage seemed like the easiest way to do that.”

This never happened in any of her mother’s storybooks. There was usually an epic adventure and love story before the princess decided she was to defy her station and be with the knight she loved. 

And they usually weren’t nine years old, either.

However, the offer made Palla’s stomach warm. Minerva was strong, and reliable. She never expected Palla to be more than she was- just a girl her own age, a peer, a friend. Sometimes she even thought that it might be okay to share how she really feels to her, to open up, to... to cry. Even though she was a big girl. 

She thought that maybe, she didn’t have to be a big girl around Minerva.

“You mean it?”

“Yes. I want to make you happy.”

The tears started coming down, and big girl Palla was gone. All that was left was Palla- a not-quite-ten year old child who missed her mother, and just wanted to be a kid. The quiet crying quickly became hiccuping sobs, dragging her forearm across her eyes to dry the deluge as it came.

“I’m,” she sniffed loudly, “I’m lonely! I love my sisters, but I want my mother! I want my father! I want someone to take care of me sometimes too!”

In a flash, she felt a pair of arms around her, and realized slowly that she was being hugged by the taller girl. It was an awkward, unpracticed hug, but it was the first time she had been hugged by someone bigger than her in nearly a year. It wasn’t Catria or Est hugging her leg before they scurried off to play, it was a warm, enveloping hug that made her feel safe.

“I will take care of you. We can be together always. Father tells me that one day I shall get to be in charge of my own unit, and you can be in it. And we can get married. That way you’ll always know I will be there for you.”

Sniffling weakly now, she squeezed back tightly, “Thank you. I’ll do my best to get as strong as you so I can stay by your side.”

They stayed like that for a moment, the setting sun now having almost fully retreated, casting them in the cool darkness of the early night. In the back of her mind, Palla knew that Minerva was probably beholden to whatever marriage promises her father makes for her, but she couldn’t get herself to care.

Not when she could finally, finally, be herself.

---

It was thirteen years later when they were actually wed.

Of course Palla’s doubts had been correct at the time. The king had just laughed at his daughter, pat her head, and sent her on her way. He had several marriage contracts in talks with other kingdoms even at that time, so as much as he loved his daughter, one freedom he hadn’t planned to allow her was romance.

But, of course, before any of them could come to fruition, his life was snuffed out by his own son.

Over the years, Palla kept her promise, and was the first pegasus knight assigned to Minerva’s unit, later followed dutifully by her younger sisters and becoming the Whitewings that were known far and wide. Together, the two women had fought two wars, overcome adversity in all its forms, and a childhood friendship became... more.

So when Minerva renounced her claim to the throne, and wandered the land helping the war restitution with her own two hands, Palla followed suit. Their marriage was a small affair, done in the halls of Lena’s convent by the woman herself. It wasn’t for the public’s eye- it was just for them.

That night, as they curled together in bed feeling a peace that had been out of reach for months, Palla remembered her wife’s first proposal.

“You were ready to marry me at nine years old,” she reminiscenced fondly, enjoying the brief embarrassed tense up from Minerva, “I don’t think I could ever forget.”

“That seemed to me to be the only solution at the time,” she pulled Palla closer, “Everyone was always discussing marriage around me, so I believed it to be the solution to every ‘adult’ problem.”

“You turned out to be right, all these years later. I’m happily married to you, and I never feel lonely when you’re around.”

Minerva placed a kiss on her wife’s forehead, who hummed appreciatively at the gesture, “I did think about asking you again, many times, as we grew up, but by that point I had learned what it truly meant. And glad I am that I waited. I want to give you a peaceful, happy life.”

“And I want the same for you,” Palla replied, more certain than she had ever felt before. Happy tears welled in her eyes, just like they had when they exchanged vows.

And she let them fall.•

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!seonghwa (part 26)

word count: 5k

angst, fluff, smut

(part 25) (series masterlist)

you had spent the first half of the night crying. full on ugly crying, tears streaming down your cheeks and your sobs muffled into whichever boy was comforting you at the time.

mingi had proved to be the rational one. still sweet and gentle in the way he comforted you but also trying to get some coherent words and thoughts out of you. "you need to talk to us so we can help you, y/n. you'll feel better then."

but yunho understands that sometimes, crying it all out helps. that getting all of your hurt and anguish out in the form of sobbing is sometimes the way. thought his heart does hurt thinking about how much you've cried these past months, surprised that you have any tears left in you.

though how can you not?

with seonghwa's brokenness and dejected spirit in your mind. the way he drank himself into his most vulnerable state and confessed to how lonely he's been these past months.

with the way yeosang had acted so defensively and didn't seem to trust you. how neither of you contacted each other and now left you with the feeling that everything might be over.

for your own self, how you feel so much guilt and sadness for both of the boys. how the pit in your stomach is only grower larger and larger, feeling like after all of this time, you still haven't made a choice.

the choice you thought you made the second you decided to date yeosang, if the way you were just a second away from telling the boy you loved him was any indication. but now the way he reacted hurt you, him throwing your obvious confusion and past mistakes in your face so easily.

because while you don't believe kissing either of them was a mistake, being more open and honest in the first place might've saved everyone a little bit of trouble. the trouble that now you can't help but feel responsible for.

"it wasn't only you," mingi's quick to say, his large hands dabbing at your wet cheeks. "yeosang knew of seonghwa's feelings and seonghwa came on way too strong the second he met you."

it's words you've heard the boy say multiple times and usually, they slightly comforted you. but now it only makes your heart tug at the awfully messy situation this all had become. you think the worst part is that it could've destroyed a friendship, had yeosang and seonghwa not already been through so much together.

your tears finally stop after a few more softly spoken words from mingi but eventually his blunt and abrupt "enough fucking crying, y/n," snapping you out of your pity and shameful breakdown.

yunho eyes snap to the boy, his face twisting into one of shock. "mingi..." the boy says lowly, his eyes softening as he looks at the boy in disapproval.

"i'm not being a dick, y/n," he says, wiping at your wet cheeks one more time before taking your hand in his. "i'm just so sick of seeing you cry over this."

"and you think i'm not?" you whisper-yell, trying to keep your voice down to not alert your parents. "i don't know wh-what to do. i still don't know what to do, mingi. i've had fucking months to get it together and i'm still sitting here crying like an idiot. i'm toying with both of them like a selfish bitch and both of them are gonna tell me-"

"stop," yunho says, his deep, commanding voice causing your eyes widen; you've never heard him talk like that. he rises from your chair in the corner and sits on the other side of you, placing his arm around you and tugging you into his broad chest.

"listen to me. you're not gonna call yourself that again. we're gonna talk everything out even if it means staying up all night to get your head on straight again. okay?" he eyes mingi who's watching both of them carefully, smiling softly at the boy as if to say that's how you approach a crying teenage girl.

the three of you talk until your throat is raw, explaining to them how much it hurt you to see seonghwa like that. how you couldn't physically leave him at a bar drunk and upset when you knew you were to blame; and even if you weren't to blame, you couldn't allow that.

"but like i told yeosang, i would've done that for anyone. like if it was one of you, obviously. so i don't know why he had to throw that in my face!"

mingi and yunho smile softly at you, one of their large hands coming up to pat down your messy hair.

"i know, sweetling. he knows that too," yunho tells you, "he probably just felt threatened and scared."

"but why?" you cry out, looking at the boys with a baffled expression. "i was literally about to tell him i love him and now he's upset that i went to pick up our fri-"

"wait, what?" they both blurt out, yunho's eyes lit up with happiness and surprise as mingi's mouth is dropped into an o shape.

"yeah," you say, nodding your head a shy smile makes it way on your face; you suppose you'd never said that out loud before. "i really felt like i was ready to say it, especially on our trip together. but now with this, i don't-"

"one fight doesn't mean you don't love him anymore," mingi says, "you either love him or you don't."

you take a moment to think about his words, remembering all your good moments with yeosang. from both ski trips and your time at school and on all of your dates and times at his house.

and you think, even given the way you guys first met an were with each other, that the good outweigh the bad. he brings out a spark in you that you were always too scared and timid to show. he pushes you to go out of your comfort zone and will tell you things you need to hear even if they're harsh.

"i-i do," you eventually find yourself saying, a happy feeling fluttering in your stomach as you admit it aloud.

because when it comes down to it, if you guys broke up over this, you'd be devastated. if you guys broke up at all, you couldn't imagine seeing him and being okay with not talking to him, not going home without him and never being able to laugh with him on his couch.

"okay, good," yunho says with a smile. "that was one of the two things we have to settle." the blonde looks at mingi with a leading look, the redhead rolling his eyes slightly at his....friend.

"why do you make me say the hard stuff," mingi growls.

"because you're the mean one. i'm the nice, soft spoken one."

you giggle when see mingi's eyes narrow at him, affection and care even obvious in his 'angry' expression.

you know tonight is a time for you to get your shit together, so everyone can move on from this and maybe every interaction won't be these two boys comforting you. but you can't wait for the moment you can finally ask them what's been going on between them.

because you know it's something.

"whatever," mingi says, the growl in his voice not all that biting or scary before he turns to look at you. you see his eyes soften as he looks over your face, bringing his hand down to rest atop yours again.

"but then we have to ask, what about seonghwa? do you love him too?"

you lick at your lips anxiously, almost wanting to laugh at this. because you're just a group of teenagers sitting in your bedroom at 2 am, crying and talking about love like you guys know anything at all. but it truly feels like everything is so intense and serious; because what love is more passionate than those of naive high schoolers?

your mind wracks over the not so simple question for a few minutes. you think about your memories with seonghwa and the pang in your heart tells you you care deeply for the boy and the memories he's given you. you love that he was there for you and helped you and was kind to you.

but that might be the difference. the cliche, well-known idea of loving someone versus being in love with someone. but that feels like the only way to describe yourself in this situation. describe why not a single part of you wants to hurt seonghwa, why you've maybe been dragging your feet through all of this and finding it so incredibly hard to deal with.

because even after tonight, you don't wanna make the choice. consider what seems like the most obvious choice in the universe but knowing that's not what you want. because who wouldn't pick seonghwa? it seems as if right now, you should be leaning towards him.

but the way your eyes well up with tears is the first indication to everyone in the room that, while you might love him, it's not the way you love someone else.

so the second half of the night is spent coming to terms with his decision, laying right in the middle of yunho and mingi as you tell them about the first time you met seonghwa and how much he helped you in 4th period. how pretty much before you could defend yourself or say something back he was always there. how gentle and delicate and soft he always was with you.

the stories are such sharp contrasts to your beginning ones with yeosang that it should place some doubt in your mind.

but when your eyes are finally threatening to shut, your mind fogging with sleep and drowsiness, your last remaining thought is you hope you wake up to a message from your boyfriend.

and just a few hours later, that's exactly what happens.

the second your eyes snap open, you sit up slowly, yunho's heavy arm around your waist holding you down, before you reach out and grab your phone. it's barely eight in the morning but you already have two messages from yeosang and one from seonghwa, your heart falling into your stomach at the sight.

because both of the boys had said the same thing.

seonghwa:

-> i'm sorry.

yeosang:

-> i'm sorry, baby.

-> can we talk?

you let out a shaky breath, rising out of bed quietly as you pad over to your chair in the corner and decide how to respond. a quiet, almost pained groan leaves mingi's mouth when you click into your messages with seonghwa, looking at the boy with your eyebrows furrowed.

and then your heart nearly explodes when you watch yunho reach out in his sleep, his hand stretching out until it finds mingi's. you can't seem to look away as yunho's thumb unconsciously calms the boy, soft gentle strokes that causes mingi to roll over and move himself closer to him.

it's all so natural and instinctual, you can't stop the tears from pricking your eyes. you're even half tempted to snap a photo but decide against it, wanting to talk to the boy's first before you start taking their photos with the sole purpose of seeing them blush and hide into one another.

you look down at your phone and swallow the lump in your throat, your thumbs twiddling over the screen.

you don't know if he remembers anything he even said, if he only woke to san's concerned gaze who told him a...minute version of what happened. it's why you only respond that it's okay; you wanna say so much more, apologize yourself and assure him that he didn't do anything wrong, but you know now isn't the time.

seonghwa needs time to himself and you need time to talk with yeosang. which is why you respond to his message with a short "yes," his immediate text back asking if he could pick you up.

you text yunho and mingi in your group chat that you went to yeosang's and that your parents still know they're there (you made sure to tell your mom in the event that she walked into your room and saw the two large boys spooning on your bed).

yeosang's familiar car pulls up in front of your house as you sit on the couch with luna, stroking her white fur while trying to consider why you never thought to blame her. because if it hadn't been for her antics, you would've never wound up in seonghwa's backyard. but then she purrs on you and it's all over, petting her neck one more time before shooting up and out your door.

any hesitance and nervousness you feel when you sit down in yeosang's car vanishes the second you close the door. because when you turn around, he pulls you into his arms. it's a slightly awkward hug, given the console in the middle of you, but he couldn't wait any longer after the nightmare that was the past ten hours.

"i'm sorry," you hear his deep voice say quietly, "i'm so sorry for what i said. i was a fucking asshole and i didn't mean any of it."

tears prick at your eyes because of all the scenarios you thought of happening, this was the best possible case. knowing you guys still had things to talk about and feelings to confess but getting apologies and regrets out of the way immediately. not holding on to any anger or animosity.

"i'm sorry, too," you mumble into his neck. "i-it wasn't fair of me to say that and not listen to yo-"

"you don't have to listen to me, you can make your own decisions," he says as he pulls back, taking your face in his hands and running them over your cheeks. "i was just being a fucking pussy and thought you...wanted to be with seonghwa."

your lips can't help but quirk into a smirk at his vulgarity, shaking your head as your gaze meets his head on. he's looking at you so intently, eyes boring right into yours as they hold all the emotion and stress from the long night, even with you now in front of him.

"no," you say softly, shaking your head as you take his hand in yours. "i care about seonghwa but i..." the words are right on the tip of your tongue but you don't think this is the right place to say it. in the car, two seconds after making up from a fight. "i wanna be with you."

he tightens his hold on your hand, bringing it to his mouth to place a chaste kiss on. the smile he gives you makes your stomach flutter and swoop, no hint of the painful knot that was torturing it all night.

"thank god," he sighs out, "i thought...i wanted to..." you watch him struggle with the words and don't know it's for the very same reasons you were just struggling with. "just...thank god."

you smile and lean over to place a peck on his cheek, pulling back and immediately flushing when the low growl of your stomach erupts in the car. he raises his eyebrow playfully at you, your lowly spoken "shut up," causing him to smile.

"how 'bout we get breakfast?"

your breakfast date was fun and relaxed, given the circumstances. he drank half of your juice and you accidentally doused his waffles with too much syrup, both of you swatting playfully at the other. but the second you get to his house and take a seat on his sofa, you know the talk isn't over yet.

because when things are said like that in the moment, it's important to know if those are hidden thoughts that you've been keeping from each other. it's why you're the first to prompt the question and start the conversation, even though you just wanna bury yourself in his chest and take a well-deserved nap.

"does...the fact that i kissed seonghwa still bother you?"

he isn't even thrown off by the question, the sharp inhale he takes more at the reminder he spit that out in a fit of rage. it was that comment that made his blood boil, not at the fact he had to remember that fact, he remembers it everyday because of the impact it once had on you and him and his best friend.

it was more so that he used it against you, knew how much it upset you and how much you struggled with it but still decided to throw in your face. and for that, he's always gonna feel like an asshole.

"no, baby," he says, voice soft and sincere. he sees you give him an unconvinced look, your head cocked to the side with your eyebrow raised. "i'm serious," he continues, "i knew back then that...that was a possibility. in case you forgot, i used to have to watch you and him be all over each other."

your head falls to your chest despite his teasing tone, a tiny sigh leaving your mouth causing him to frown. he places his under your chin to lift your head, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

"i was kidding, love. i promise, though, it doesn't bother me. i...only said that to be a dick. because i was feeling threatened and scared."

"like a pussy," you mumble lowly, not being able to control the smirk pulling at your lips. he snorts as he shakes his head, squeezing your face ever so slightly as he does so.

"like a pussy," he agrees, the chuckle that bubbles out of his mouth contagious. but then the laughter stops and his eyes soften, remembering the comeback you said that gave him a hard, aching blow to the heart.

"in case you forgot, he was saving me from you. because you were always the one being an asshole to me and making me cry."

because he couldn't even deny this part of it. he was an asshole and he did make you cry and seonghwa did save you from him every single time. in the library and on the ski trip and even on new years when he fucked up again.

which is why it's baffling to him why you're choosing him. why you're still with him when it's obvious seonghwa should be the one you're with.

"y/n," his deep voice utters quietly, knowing he was gonna speak by the way his eyes were currently roaming your face.

"what?" you squeak, the constant change of the mood today nearly giving you whiplash.

"i'm sorry i was such an asshole to you, in the beginning," he says. because while you guys joke that he's an asshole now, he knows he was an honest to god, true asshole. mean and conniving for no other reason than that that's how he was fighting his feelings for you.

and it's such lousy, juvenile excuse. but it's the truth nonetheless.

"i hate that i've made you cry so much," he hums, trailing his finger across your face gently. you swallow at the delicacy of his touch, warm and familiar and so gentle like he thinks you're gonna break at any moment.

"it's okay, yeosang," you mumble, your glossy eyes meeting his as you feel your throat grown thick with emotion. "i-i know you had your reasons."

a humorless laugh leaves his mouth as he shakes his head at you, feeling his heart pang again because "no reason would justify it, y/n. i was a dick and you shouldn't let me off the hook so easily."

you narrow your eyes at him, turning your head to the side as you take in his words. "what should i do then?" you eventually ask, "dump you? never forgive you?"

"yeah," he mumbles lowly, feeling in his heart and soul that's what he deserves. he shouldn't get to have you when you have other..suitable options. he shouldn't allow himself to accept your kindness and graciousness and affection. he should tell you to leave him and never look back but, because he's not a suitable option, he's too selfish to say that. "something like that."

"well i don't want to," you say firmly, knowing in that obnoxious little of head of his he's probably making up excuses as to why you should want to. that the way he's treated you should outweigh how is he now and probably some other nonsense about how he shouldn't accept your love. because that's what it is.

"because i love you. and i'd be really sad if you made me break up with you just because you're deciding to be a-"

"what?" he asks, his heart stilling and body freezing at what he thinks he just heard.

"what?" you parrot, trying so hard to contain the smile threatening to pull at your lips. but you can't help it, the look of absolute shock and disbelief on his face is far too funny.

"what did you just say?"

"that i don't want too?" you ask, met with a firm shake of the head.

your eyebrow raises in mock confusion. "that i'd be really sad if you made me-"

"y/n," he says warningly, very much on the verge of passing out or exploding.

your small, teasing giggle rings through the pool house and he'd wanna reprimand you if he wasn't in such a flustered state. because there's no way you said that. he had to have misheard, just hearing what he wants to instead of a very obvious-

"i love you," you repeat, the words still foreign and weird on your tongue. but it feels good to finally say it to him, a sad, sick part of your brain wondering when the last time he heard that was.

"why?" he asks, his mouth slightly agape as he eyes you warily. warily like someone trying to protect themselves, save themselves from being hurt by something that could potentially make them crumble and really break into pieces.

but you have no intention of doing that.

"because i do," you tell him, scooting closer to him to straddle his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders. "so don't tell me to break up with you again or not forgive you," you warn, "because i won't listen and you're not the-"

his lips crashing on yours stops the words from leaving your mouth, smiling into the kiss as you pull yourself closer to him. the kiss itself says everything he hasn't yet, his hands coming up to your cheeks and pulling your faces impossibly closer.

you guys have kissed a lot and this is probably the most passionate. no dominating tongues or threats to make you shut up or an underlying notion to tease the other. just your lips connecting and fitting together like it was meant to happen, your giddy smiles and giggles against one another lips eventually being the thing that makes you pull apart.

"i love you, too," he says, his forehead leaning against yours as he tries to catch his breath. "i don't know why you love me but i know for sure that i fucking love you."

your cheeks warm at his words, your stomach and heart fluttering as you bury your face shyly in his neck. because you hadn't thought about how'd you feel hearing the confession back and it's made you a whole lot more flustered than you thought.

"all the things we've done on this couch and that's what it takes to get you shy?" he laughs against your head. you poke at his stomach harshly and he narrows his eyes, pushing you down quickly as a surprised squeal leaves your mouth.

he's hovering above you for a few seconds before your lips collide again, his tongue teasing to slip inside your mouth that you eagerly open for him. your hands travel up to his hair and you pull him closer by the strands, his small groan vibrating against your mouth before he pulls back.

his eyes roam over your red lips and flushed cheeks, your wide eyes looking up at him with such happiness and love he still can't grasp the fact that this his life. can't grasp that fact that someone like you would want, love, someone like him.

"i love you," he blurts out again, your smile widening at his deep voice uttering that word again.

"i love you," you say back, feeling yourself grow shy again. but it only causes him to laugh, his hand reaching out so his finger can graze across your pink cheek.

"i can't believe you said it first," he says in disbelief, feeling confident just yesterday that he was gonna be the one to crack.

"i can't believe you tried to get me to break up with you a second before," you retort, narrowing your eyes at him in disbelief. his hand gently trails along your jaw, running along your parted lips before he taps you on the nose.

"i still wouldn't blame you if you-"

"shut. up." you say, his eyes widening and a smirk on his face at the aggressive way you say. but it's not as aggressive as the way you sit up, push him back and jump right on top of him. he lets out a strangled groan at your weight on him and you can't help but giggle, placing a peck to his lips before you ask if you can take a nap now.

and that's how the rest of the day goes. your body on top of yeosang's, head on his chest while your legs lay between his, as the both of you sleep soundly. you both needed it after the restless night of sleep you'd gotten, far too concerned about fixing your issues and getting back to this very spot.

it's why when you guys wake up hours later, the winter sun already long gone, he asks you to sleepover.

"please, baby," he whines, his voice still deep from sleep and rendering you completely unable to say no. "i need you, tonight. i wanna wake up to you."

you bite your lip at his uncharacteristically sweet words, smiling as you place a peck on his cheek. "you said the l word five hours ago and you've turned into a sap," you tease.

and any other day, he wouldn't allow you to get away with that. but he's feeling far too lucky and sentimental tonight, still half convinced you're gonna turn around and say never mind.

but of course, you don't. instead you agree to sleep over and wiggle excitedly, jumping up to see if he has any popcorn for a movie marathon you guys just have to have.

and at a new personal record, it takes you both until twenty minutes into the third movie to completely abandon it in exchange for a heated make out. you're laid out below him in just his t-shirt, moaning at the feeling of him kissing down your neck and rubbing at your exposed thighs. you push him backwards when it takes him too long to touch you where you want him to, straddling him with ease before you, without hesitance, pull his shirt over your head.

his eyes widen for a second, thrown by the action, before you press your lips back on his. you both are eventually only in underwear, his hardness right under your soaked thong as you rub against him purposefully.

"i-i'm ready, yeosang."

the boy's eyes widen at your words, immediately shooting up like you aren't riding over his leaking cock and making his body pulse with arousal.

"what?" he asks breathlessly, looking over your flushed body and messy hair. "are-are you sure?"

"yes," you tell him eagerly, "i promise."

"baby, if this is because we said i love you it doesn't mean we-"

"it's because i want you to fuck me, yeosang," you tell him, hazy eyes looking right at him as you do so. and that's all he needs to shut off the tv and throw you over his shoulder.

you giggle and smack his back until he throws you down on the bed, pulling at his boxers until his cock springs out of them and his body hovers over yours. he presses a deep kiss to your mouth before he trails down to your hickie-covered neck, licking over each and every one before he latches on to your nipple.

you cry out at the feeling, more wetness pooling between your thighs as you whine his name.

"gotta wait, baby," he says, moving to the other and causing you to throw your head back with a loud moan. "we're gonna do this slow." and slow it was, his lips inching himself further and further down your body until he was finally face to face with your core.

he rubbed his finger over the wet patch, humming in satisfaction when he hears your breathy sigh and quickly takes the waistband between his fingers. you feel yourself exposed to the cold air before his mouth attaches to your clit, your cries and moans of his name only getting louder the more he eats you out.

he sticks a finger in you to stretch you before adding another one, curling them just moments before the flicking and lapping of his tongue makes you scream out as an orgasm rips through your body.

he gives you a second to catch your breath before he's hovering over you again, taking you by the wrists and putting your hands above your head. "are you sure you wanna do this?" he asks gently, bending down to kiss you again. "we don't have to."

"i'm sure," you say, nodding your head with your flushed face and glossy eyes. you can still feel how wet and ready you are for him. "please."

you remember him taking your hands in his and intertwining your fingers as he entered you, the slight sting causing you tighten your hold on him. but then the pain passes and you're whining out again, getting off solely on the feel of him stretching you and his loud grunts echoing through the bedroom.

neither of you hear how the headboard starts smacking against the wall nor the way your moans and grunts and groans get louder and louder as the smacks get more persistent.

you only remember crying each others names at the same time, the feeling of him releasing inside of you the final straw in causing your eyes to roll back into your head. you're slightly aware of him pulling out of you and pressing a kiss to your forehead, leaving the bedroom to get a wet cloth and a glass of water.

"are you hurt, love?" you hear him ask, wincing only at the surprise of the warm towel between your thighs.

"no," you tiredly mumble, "good. re-really good." you smile lazily when you hear his laugh bounce off the walls, the bed dipping before his arms wrap around your waist.

"you're right," he mumbles into your skin, loud smacks of his lips kissing you causing you to laugh softly. "really good."

you turn in his hold and smile up at him, mumbling your last "i love you" before your face falls into his chest and sleep finally takes over your body. he mumbles his response over and over again, even when you're sleeping and completely unaware of it.

because he loves you and you love him and it's the first night he's peacefully fallen asleep, with a smile on his face, in this usually very cold, very dark bedroom.

(part 27)

[come-on-shitty-boys]

// the king. oikawa tooru //

Warnings: mentions of death

Word Count: 1.9K

Notes: This is the final installment of the mini-series “Soldier, Poet, King” influenced by the song of the same name by The Oh Hellos.  I might make a second part to this or maybe just do a little drabble to finish it off?? i have to add the header later because my dumbass F O R G O T to make one and i wanna sleep ;-;

“You’re a monster.”

“I don’t care if you’re my husband.  I want nothing to do with you.”

“I refuse to sleep in the same bed as you.”

“You’re just like your father, only caring when it benefits you.”

Each hateful comment that you threw at him pulled the air from his lungs.  He’d never been talked to in such a way, but now, hearing those words drip like poison from the lips of his own wife was like a punch to the stomach.  Tooru knew going into the marriage that things were going to be rocky, but he didn’t expect it to be this bad.  He thought that given a few weeks, he’d be able to win you over with his charming personality and the two of you could enjoy a happy life together, ruling over one of the most powerful nations.

But, that was so far from the truth.  Any attempts at physical contact were shoved away.  Conversation was cut short by a snide remark from you, leaving the young king to sit with all of the gnawing guilt in his chest.  Because, every word that you uttered, he believed to be true.  He was a monster.  Well, maybe not him specifically, but his family was a completely different story.

There was a reason that the Oikawa family was the head of such an immense kingdom, one that stretched farther than one could ever fathom.  A feared kingdom and one with riches beyond your wildest dreams.  An intimidating military with ranks upon ranks of well-equipped soldiers.  Yes, that was the Riviere Kingdom, a kingdom that burned fear into its people and a king to match that scary demeanor.  The king that had worn the crown before Tooru, his father, was as ruthless as they come, building the once small kingdom into the powerhouse that it is today.  Smaller surrounding nations were on their knees, begging to be spared, but they were only swallowed by the overwhelming military force before there was even a chance to protest.  And that was the game for years.  Smaller nations were taken in, allowing the nation to swell in size and power, allowing it to move on to even bigger targets.  It was monstrous.  

But, it wasn’t like Tooru could do anything about it now.  What did you want him to do?  Give everyone their land back and let them break off into their own countries again?  They would starve and die.  People had become reliant on the aid of the kingdom, so who was he to just whisk that all away from them?  Everything was years in the past, he had barely been born when his father's rampage had reached its peak and he was only seven when the final obstacle was conquered, too young to think any ill of his father’s ways.

The Gledria Kingdom had been the goal from the very beginning.  It was the biggest and best, but late King Oikawa couldn’t have that, could he?  Tooru could remember that overwhelming swell of pride that his father carried as the royal family of the newly-fallen kingdom knelt before the king in defeat.  A king with weary eyes, dark circles and heavy wrinkles from years of stress, a queen with gentle features and lips that probably had the potential to carry the sweetest smile, and between them knelt a young girl, likely no older than the young prince himself.  Her eyes were puffy and there was a glisten of snot streaming from her nose, the fear evident in her body as she knelt there trembling.  

“I’d like to make a deal,” the fallen king states simply, his voice as commanding, steady, as if he was the one in charge.  “Your son, is he betrothed already?”

Tooru’s cheeks turned hot, the attention suddenly being turned to him.  “He’s not.”

“Then I would like to offer my daughter’s hand.  Before you refuse, I want you to think about what this could mean for you.  You are free of the burden of an even grander kingdom by letting us walk free and rebuild our home.  Not only that, we are now aligned with you, your majesty.  Our children will act as the peace treaty between our two kingdoms.”

It had been a tempting offer, one that was not refused.  And for ten years, the deal remained in tact.  The two lived in harmony, only engaging with one another when it was necessary.  But, things got boring and the death of King Oikawa was coming sooner rather than later.  It was his last mission.  Put an end to the Gledria Kingdom.

Tooru could still remember the look on your face when you were dragged into the castle on that fateful day.  You had been so eerily easy.  There were no tears, no pain, just emptiness hidden behind those deep eyes.  Your dress had been tattered, hair had been matted and tangled.  You looked like some kind of creature that Prince Tooru had only read about.  He could do nothing but watch as the handmaids took you away to clean the blood of your people off of your shell of a body.

Even now, years after the fall of your home, there was still hate and bitterness, but Tooru couldn’t even blame you.  On the night of your wedding, you had refused to speak to him, let alone consummate your marriage.  Shortly following the death of his father, when Prince Tooru was given his new title of King and you were crowned as his queen, there was nothing.  No words of celebration, no smiles were shared.  The tension in the air surrounding the young pair never dropped.  If you ever looked at him, it was only through narrowed eyes.  If you ever spoke to him, your words stung like a thousand wasps.  You were cold to him, refusing to even give him a chance, refusing to believe that he was not his father, refusing to believe that they were anything but the same.

The people noticed it in only a matter of months.  It was like the clouds had opened up and the sun was finally able to shine through.  After years of war, there was peace in the kingdom once again.  Aid was given to those who had lost everything and King Tooru was adament on purchasing his silks and fabrics from within the Riveire Kingdom to help support his people in an effort to get them back on their feet.  Festivals that had long since stopped from fear of the late king’s wrath, now filled the squares all over again.  From within the castle, there were nights where the merry cheers and laughter of people down in the village carried on the summer air as they rejoiced in a new sense of freedom that they hadn’t felt in a long time.  

And it was those nights that he was able to feel closest to you.  It wasn’t much, but every night that the music could be heard, he could find you on the balcony that extended from the bedroom that the two of you were meant to share.  Your hair would sway gently in the warm breeze, face aglow with moonlight, letting the night consume you in all of its beauty.  If he listened closely, he could hear you humming along to the tune of some song that he had heard you hum a million times, but would never tell him the name of.  Some nights, if he watched you long enough, Tooru could watch you slowly start to sway as you get lost in the song that echoed in your head.  

“We should go,” was all he had said to you.

It caught you off guard.  There was a sudden abruptness to his words, but the gentle tone that he always used when talking to you never left.  “What are you talking about?”

“A festival.  We should go sometime.  It could be fun, don’t you think?  Mother would never let me go when I was younger.  She thought commoners were filthy and when my father started his reign of terror, the festivals and parties stopped all together.”  Tooru leaned on the rail of the balcony a few feet away from you, giving you your space, while still being near you.  The fact that you didn’t immediately move away felt like a win in his book.  “Have you ever been to one?”

You simply nod.  You’re silent for a long time, he thinks the conversation is over until he sees your mouth open.  “We used to go all of the time.  If my father knew there was going to be a festival, he would take me.  We would dance and he’d lift me up and spin me around.  He would buy food and drinks for everyone there, so every single person could have a good time and not have to worry about expenditures.”  Tooru looked over at you as your words trailed off.  A soft smile graced your features.  It was the very first smile that he had ever seen from you, but it fell quickly.  “But that was before-”

“Yeah.  I know.”

“I really don’t think you do.  Do you really understand what your father did to us?  To every single kingdom that fell on their knees before him?  My people were slaughtered, Tooru.  I watched my parents die because your father betrayed them and you stand here and genuinely expect me to see you in a different light.  You may not be your father, but you’re still an Oikawa.  You carry all of that bloodshed on your shoulders now.  You could be the kindest king in the world, but nothing is going to reverse the past.”

“You’re right and I wish that there was something that I could do to fix everything.  If I could go back and stop him from doing what he did to your kingdom, I would do it in a heartbeat, but we didn’t know that it was coming either.  But, Y/N, we can’t keep living like this.  If you don’t want to love me, I can live with that, but I beg that you let me show you that I am more than just my father’s son.  I’m an Oikawa and that’s something that I can’t change, but I can change the feelings that come with hearing that name.  I wish nothing but the best for my people, our people, but that has to start here.”

“What are you saying?”

“Let me take you to one festival.  We can dance until your feet tire so much that I have to carry you home.  I’ll spin you around until you’re so dizzy that you can’t see straight.  We can eat and drink and laugh until your stomach hurts.  You don’t have to say yes, but I want to show you that I am King Oikawa Tooru and I am not the same person that my father was.  So, what do you say?  Will you do me the honor of being my dance partner for just one festival?”

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Cobalt Short Story

The Checkered Half of Edward Baxter’s Life

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Raw || Index

He met him for the first time when attending a boarding school in Switzerland.

He had no plans for homecoming even as summer vacation came about. It was better to stay in Switzerland as things were noisy at home, his father had told him on the phone, and he was not a fourteen-year-old innocent enough not to catch onto the meaning of “I’ll have to look after you if you come back and this would reduce the time I have for my research” that lay underneath.

There was no helping it, so he secluded himself in the library. However, the library was full of children like him, with no place to return to. He gradually started feeling depressed.

Switzerland, which Queen Elizabeth also loved, had many picturesque tourist attractions. There was no lack of places to have a fun time from dawn to dusk and a pipe organ concert was being held at a church in town, which was quite close to the school, so he imprudently thought that it would be safe even at night.

Since he had an unnecessarily exemplary daily conduct, it was easy to earn permission for exiting the campus. The question of where he was going was disregarded, and it was hard for him when a nuance drifted about, saying that he should go play around a little, if anything. He already knew by then that he was most likely a child who did not specialize much at behaving like a child.

The summer city was brimming with sightseers. Made of brown bricks, the cityscape that looked like those from fairy tales was decorated everywhere with pink and white potted flowers. The city seemed to have many watersides, with restaurants lined up by the river shores, a big black dog that was probably someone’s pet dragging its leash around and waggling, looking like it wanted him to play with it. Just when he thought of playing a little, its owner apparently called for it from afar, so the dog turned its body around and rushed away.

The city was fun at night. Being able to get the feeling that he was with someone even without being accompanied was just what he needed.

He only realized that he was lost long after he had started losing his way. He was certain there was a church in that area where a concert was taking place, but while roaming around, what came into his field of vision was nothing but apartment complexes, garbage dumps and tunnels with no signs of life. He had apparently entered a residential area where the public order was not too good, but did not know how to get out. As he decided to just go back the way he had come from, there were people standing behind him once he turned on his heels.

“Yo.”

He was able to tell right away that they were around seventeen to eighteen years old because the boys were wearing parkas and baseball caps. With such looks that one would not see so often in a waterside of bustling terrace cafés, they spoke while chewing gums. Just as an earl would sometimes do, he pretended not to have heard them.

“Shortie, what’cha doin’ out here? Where yer papa and mama?”

“They not around? You alone?”

“Then don’tcha have a wallet with ya?”

“You’re as pretty as a doll, huh. Can’t talk?”

“Young Master, could you please spare us a blessing?”

Cold sweat beaded on his back as he wondered what would happen if he refused. He had begun having boxing lessons, but the classes were strictly separated by age and body weight, so he could not think of it as training for fighting opponents who were clearly older than him.

Just when unpleasant memories started whirling in his head as he pondered what he should do, what he had to do, what he was supposed to do to cut his way through a time like this all by himself, someone most certainly grabbed his arm from the side.

“Hey, Edward! Edward, isn’t that you?”

For a second, he did not know who the owner of that familiar voice was.

Brownish blond hair and light blue eyes, a knit vest and black slacks. Shiny leather shoes and an armor-like smile.

“Je... Jay!”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s me, Jay. I’m happy you remembered.”

The one who went around the boy from behind and hugged him from the shoulder was his cousin, Jeffrey, who was two years older than him. Even as the boy stared at him with eyes that asked why he was in a place like this and how he had gotten here, Jeffrey maintained the same-old theatrical face that he pulled off so well and hid behind his back the one who had the status of a younger brother to him.

“What’re you doing in this place? You’ll be late for the meeting if you don’t hurry. Won’t your uncle be mad if you make him wait any longer? He’s a really scary person.”

“I-I’m sorry. I will be going right away.”

“That’s it, so bye!”

Tightly hugging the shoulder of the one that he was supposed to protect, Jeffrey left the scene. Perhaps due to him handling the matter with such a lighthearted and loud voice, there were no signs of the two chasing after them.

“That was terrifying.”

“We’re leaving this place.”

“All right.”

Jeffrey walked in long strides from the semi-darkness where a fishy smell drifted about to the main street lined with the glow of light poles. The boy walked keeping his body close to Jeffrey’s, as it did not seem like the latter intended to let go of the shoulder that he was firmly holding onto otherwise.

“Honestly, good thing I was around.”

“How...?”

“‘How’, you ask? I’m your super hero, so isn’t it obvious that I’d rush to you when you’re in trouble?”

“Not that; what is the truth?”

“I meant it as the truth, though... Kidding. It was just a coincidence. If I’m not wrong, today’s the day that summer vacation started for you, right? My school was a bit faster to give us leisure time, so I planned to ambush you and make a surprise. But when I visited your school, they said you’d gone out all by yourself, so I was the surprised one,” the older cousin said cheerfully.

He was a man with a big heart, the kind that constantly changed his voice tone and facial expression as he spoke, who was always smiling and accepted first-thing the evaluation that he was charismatic yet shady. Moreover, he continuously took his little brother, who had been born to free-spirited parents and was younger than him, under his feathers. For the boy, his existence was much more than that of an older brother.

At the words “I’m the only one here”, the boy realized that he was relieved. The earl and the even older cousin from whom he would have to conceal this were not there.

“You okay?”

“Yes, but the earl and Brother Henry are not here.”

“Father was in Cannes, I guess. Henry is following him to make appearances. Looks like it’s a busy season for the high society.”

“How awful.”

“I wonder if they’re getting caught up with playing around. Aah, but Henry is a serious guy. Piano practice might be more fun to him than a casino.”

“I think I understand how he feels.”

“That’s right. Let’s go to Cannes with him someday too. Let’s live it up in a casino or something.”

“If I become penniless from buying too many books by then, what will we do?”

“Leave it to me. I might be like this, but I’m hoping to enter the financial business. I’ll lend you as much money as you want. With damn high interest.”

“You little—”

They shoved each other around as if to hug one another, and by the time they had all but arrived at the main street, filled as it was with human presence, the boy finally released a sigh. That was dreadful. He was not very used to being threatened. At school, he had already grown somewhat used to having his appearance mocked or people using the words “I’ll throw the trash away for you” as an excuse to touch his body, and had come up with countermeasures to some extent, but troubles outside the school were always beyond hypothesis.

As he gave an abrupt shudder upon recalling being sandwiched from front and back by two older boys, something landed on top of his head with a tap. It was Jeffrey’s hand.

Patting his golden-haired head in light rolls with the palm of his hand, the boy who was two years older grinned at him. “Well, first things first, you should start with not getting lost.”

“You were watching me?”

“I wasn’t. I ran around here and there because of that. It had me out of breath, but I was a prize-worthy elite actor for not letting it show, huh? I want a trophy.”

“Then how did you know I was lost?”

“You’re not the kind of kid who’d go to a place like that on purpose, Ricky.”

At that moment, the boy had the sudden realization that his cousin was a child merely two years above him, and so he was supposed to be protected, not to be protecting someone else. Fearing kidnappings, everyone in the earl’s estate had an enormous amount of money on insurance payouts. The fact that he would rather be someone who had next to no worries in going outside of school than have the presence of the bodyguards who would be tagging along with him in normal circumstances made the boy shiver again.

“Hum... Jeff, is everything all right for you? My apologies for that. Your guards—”

“You’re still on about that? Y’know, you could just leave it as ‘that was terrifying’. I lost my guards. I mean, it’s no fun with them. I think I’ll get a call from Father lecturing me again, but isn’t it kinda disturbing to have two old men in suits clinging to my back even when I go see my dear little brother’s face?”

He had probably taken that measure due to foreseeing that the bodyguards would scary his cousin, the boy realized. Before he sank into an apologetic sea once more, Jeffrey found a random shop at the side of the road and took a seat in the quiet interior. He ordered two lemonades. As he was striking a lighthearted talk about how they were perfect for Switzerland in the summer...

“Hum.”

“What?”

“Who was that Edward from just now?”

“Uh? Aah, no one. I let it out of my mouth without much thought.”

Jeffrey did not say, “It’s because they might memorize your name if I were so stupidly honest to call you Richard”. His consideration from not wanting to say it and expressly scare his cousin, as well as his carefreeness of not deeming it necessary to be said, were comfortable for the boy.

Edward, Edward, he repeated in his heart the unfamiliar name, and after drinking just a little bit of the lemonade, the boy whispered intermittently, “It’d be good if you had a name like that too.”

“Uh?”

As he said, “Like Edward”, Jeffrey laughed.

“Isn’t that ‘Jay’?”

“That was just because I didn’t manage to say ‘Jeffrey’...”

“Hmm,” Jeffrey interjected with an indifferent attitude, sucking onto the straw of his lemonade.

Aah, it’s the face of someone who’s planning something fun, the boy noted, and as he laughed a little, his older cousin showed a smile three times happier than that.

“Then give me one.”

“Uh?”

“You can give me a name like that too. Let’s make them secret names between us.”

“For Brother Henry too?”

“Keep it a secret from Henry.”

The smile of his cousin, who laughed without any maliciousness, was as sweet as nectar. The boy displayed a facial expression of sincere reassurance, then began turning over the name dictionary inside his head with “not this, not that either”. No matter what, his favorite names either were related to individuals from classic literature or leaned towards Japanese people, but none of them suited Jeffrey’s face.

The boy made up his mind about the fact that a basic name would be best and raised his head, peeking at his cousin’s eyes. “James.”

“‘James’?”

“James.”

“Huhu, roger that, Edward. I’m James, yeah? Aah, what’s my family name? Anything but ‘Bones’, ‘kay? I don’t like martini that much.”

“Jeff, you already drink?”

“We’re talking about James now and Jeff has nothing to do with it.”

While he jokingly raised the lemonade’s straw, spinning it in twirls like a magic wand, the boy observed him as if looking at a gemstone that emanated a dazzling shine. He was a wonderful person who could do anything and who showed concern for the boy – more than that, the boy considered him someone special and could not come home to anyone else in the world, no matter where he searched. He was a treasure that the boy most definitely could not exchange for anything, not even if an ancient king came up to him with an elephant loaded to the brim with pearls, rubies and emeralds on its back, and whenever the boy was in bad health, he would always think that, if they were ever pulled apart to places where they could never see each other again, he would cry profusely.

He was the one who promptly contacted the boy whenever anything happened in general, driving away the latter’s nightmares, so the honor of granting a name to someone like that gradual and silently filled the boy’s heart, turned into a word and overflowed, “Ya’aburnee.”

“Hm?”

As Jeffrey had apparently not heard it well, the boy repeated the word for him, “Ya’aburnee. The word is cut between the ‘ya’ and the ‘aburnee’. The accent is on the first vowel.”

“‘Ya’aburnee’, huh? It’s pretty yet has a mysterious ring to it.”

“It is Arabic.”

“Learned a new word again, huh, you damn prodigy?”

“I am no prodigy.”

“I meant an ‘effort prodigy’. ‘Cause you’re a hardworker. Okay, my secret name is James Ya’aburnee. Edward, what about you?”

“Uh?”

“What’s Edward’s family name?”

Taken aback, the boy hung his head after a moment of indecision, looking depressed. When Jeffrey asked what happened, the boy timidly raised his face. “Hum... The two are real brothers, so they have the same family name.”

As he said so with a voice that sounded like it was fading, Jeffrey’s eyes widened just slightly, and after nodding with a “hun-hun”, he grinned. That smile of Jeffrey’s was even now said to be difficult for his parents to distinguish whether it was fake or not, but the boy was able to tell the difference. If a dimple appeared on his left cheek, it was not a fake smile. Jeffrey himself had told him that.

There was a dimple on his elder cousin’s left cheek.

“Heeh~! That so?”

“It is so.”

“Then James and Edward are really just like us.”

“Uh?”

“I mean, we’re real brothers, right? That’s how I think.”

As Jeffrey ill-manneredly drank the remaining part of his lemonade in slurps, the clerk made a disgusted face at him. The headline on the magazine that she had in hands read, “How to Date Rich Men”, and so the boy felt like saying something rude to her, such as, “I think the person you just glared at is probably richer than the ones in that magazine”. It felt like he could do anything that the boy usually was unable to. He was cheerful, bright and warm at heart.

As he sat quietly without saying anything, Jeffrey smiled subtly and gently rested his hand on the boy’s golden-haired head. “Wanna go back to school? Or not?”

“I want to be together for a bit longer.”

“Okay. Then let’s do that.”

Holding hands with his “little brother” of two years bellow him, Jeffrey escorted him to a hotel near his dormitory, converting into a parent and calling the boy’s school to request permission for him to spend the night out, and after checking into one of those cheap inns that was would be crammed with skiers in the winter, the two immersed themselves in conversation on their bed the all night long.

Jeffrey talked about their homes and families. About his friends. About financing, which he was studying. About drama theory. About how he felt like throwing up from agony when preparing for an assignment where he completely slipped into the role of a prime minister who had only managed to rescue 150 civilians alive out of 300 that had been taken hostage by terrorists. About how he cracked up when he was told, “Everyone will stop trusting you” after he showed off too much the chameleon acting that he had mastered in drama class.

Jeffrey’s talks were not tiring – all topics were interesting, adding gemstones of lustrous gleam to the boy’s heart one after another. In return, the boy talked about the satisfying life he led in at the Swiss lodging house. About the bright sunlight, the climate that was warmer than England’s, the ever-white snowy peaks overlooked in the distance, the lively teachers who were like sportsmen. About how he not have many friends, but believed that it was due to him not conducting himself like a child, so there was no helping it, and how he would not mind it much if he did not have anyone, as long as he had Jeffrey.

As he was sprawled on the bed while resting his cheek on one hand, Jeffrey tipped Richard’s head back down. “You shouldn’t please me so much. Or else we won’t be able to stay away from each other.”

“What is so bad about that?”

“When you start hating me, I don’t want you to think, ‘I hate him but I can’t let go of him’.”

“I believe something like that will never happen. So that is okay.”

“There you go again saying something that makes me happy... Y’know, Ricky, people have this thing called a ‘rebellious phase’.”

“It seems I do not.”

“Plus, it’s pretty scary afterwards; I read a paper that said reactions also happen.”

“I do not have that, but thanks.”

After rubbing each other’s heads into a mess, they resumed the talk about Edward and James. Where the two of them lived, if their relationship was a favorable one, if they had any other acquaintances and what they usually did to pass the time. Dreams and jokes mixed up with the human drama built up amidst their sleepiness, and so they became yakuza, lived in Japan and fought over whether or not to put wasabi on sushi, but were the good-natured kind of duo that would always make up immediately. They did not endeavor illegal activities and instead were yakuza who respected the old-fashioned thinking of “humanity and justice”, of lending a helping hand to people in trouble, and did not bear tattoos as they were a little scary. Amongst the yakuza, there was a pledge called sworn siblinghood, but since they were blood-related siblings, so there was no need for such a thing.

By the time they had started to doze off, the boy woke up with a start. Jeffrey was not making a drowsy face. His bottomless eyes, which appeared to be looking into somewhere far away, even so maintained their focus immersed on Richard’s face.

“Hey, Ricky, what’s the continuation to that story?”

“Hueh?”

“What happens to Edward and James in the distant future?”

Amidst the sensation that he seemed to be airily drifting towards the world of dreams, the boy tilted his neck. He had no idea why Jeffrey was asking something so obvious. His mouth moved in a natural manner, “They continue getting along forever.”

“I see. Go rest already,” Jeffrey said, getting up from the single-person bed, giving him a pillow and putting a blanket over him, then tucked himself into his own bed and attempted to sleep.

He did try to fall into slumber, but upon noticing his small cousin staring at him with eyes that seemed to be imploring for something, he took his pillow and went back to the boy’s side. Like two hatchlings huddling their feathers onto each other, the two children slept while dreaming about the future.

The next morning, Jeffrey took a still sleepy-looking Richard back to school, scattering an amiable “I’m leaving him in your care” all over the place, shaking people’s hands here and there and returning to his angry-faced bodyguards’ side. Gossip ran about like gale amongst students with time to spare, saying that the second son of an earldom – a brilliant honors student even within a famous public school from England – had apparently come to see a sibling of his who was in this school, which became a rumor in the whole school at one point, but said rumor, like a mirage faintly surfacing over a lake in the summer, was gone before autumn came around.

“Let’s decide on your name.”

“Eh?”

“Calling you ‘Seigi’ would have a bad effect in a situation where there are only enemies. If I call you by a completely different name, there is the possibility that you would not be able to react, so I believe a name somewhat similar to your own is safer.”

“Then, ‘Seigi’, ‘Seigi’, ‘Seigi’... Make it ‘Seiji’.”

“Too close. Some people might mishear it as ‘Seigi’ instead. Think of a surname. I will call you by that.”

Richard had started saying odd things about perhaps having to throw fists at an accessories shop that was disseminating fake turquoises. For me to come up with a fake name. Indeed, revealing our true names even if by accident could be a dangerous situation.

I squeezed up a knowledge that I didn’t have, deep in thought. Something that sounded kind of similar to my real name. Yet was a different name. Hmm.

“‘Nakata’, ‘Nakata’, ‘Nakata’... ‘Yamada’, Yamada? No, ‘Tanaka’ is also... Ah~, I wonder which. Yamada or Tanaka?”

“Then let’s make it Yamada. Yamada Seiji-san. I will be counting on you. I am Edward Baxter.”

“Where’s ‘Richard’ as the base for that?”

“I will be in your care.”

“My pleasu~re.”

Wearing a red open-necked shirt that looked like it could show up in contests for rare clothing articles, I sat on the Jaguar’s passenger seat. However, in terms of outfit eccentricity, I didn’t feel like I could beat the man sitting next to me. White, white, white. It was thoroughly white from top to bottom, the hairstyle pulled all the way back. It was a bit of an underground person look.

“I’m checking just in case, but what kind of setting is this Edward Baxter-sensei from?”

“A messenger from the Great Universe who miraculously predicts fortunes and foresees the fate of gems.”

“Uh. Got it. I’ll do my best not to laugh.”

“Obviously. Laughing at a messenger of the Great Universe is insolence.”

“Hahaa~”

The Jaguar sped up like always. If this car had a voice, it felt like it would frantically cause a stir, asking, “Mister, aren’t you too different from usual?” but the Jaguar was reticent and loyal.

As the vehicle kept running, my nervousness increased a little. I wanted to say something, but Richard’s profile was rock-hard. It would feel awkward if I discussed about tea and snacks that had nothing to do with it here and now. But I wanted to talk. I was able to come up with just one thing when wondering what I should say.

“Is there... a family in the setting of that Baxter-sensei? Or does he not have any, since he’s a messenger of the Great Universe? Sorry. You didn’t think that far, did you?”

When I asked that, Richard briefly made a strange face. Unlike his usual refreshing smile, that expression could only be described as a “suggestive grin”, with a gaze that didn’t appear to be looking at me but at something in the distance.

Then he stated, “He has no relatives whosoever.”

“Roger that.”

And so, the two of us headed to the shop of shady history. Edward Baxter-shi, who claimed to have not a single relative, seemed to be making a just slightly sad-looking face within the glass of the windshield. However, Yamada Seiji courteously pretended that he was not at all seeing the weakness of a messenger of the Great Universe.

He had no idea what Nakata Seigi made of it, though.

[sonderthroughthestreets]

Moon Jellies

For anon, a sobbe aquarium first date fic (I’m so sorry this is late!)

Also I’ve never been to an aquarium, much less on a date in one, so sorry if this sucks. Also sorry for any mistakes. 

Any more prompts are welcome!

Robbe was a nervous wreck. His palms were sweaty, his head was racing, and his heart was beating a million miles per minute as he stared at himself in the mirror. He smelled his wrists to check the cologne and then shook them out to relieve a bit of the nerves. He blew out a breath as he ran his fingers through his hair one last time, trying to get all the curls and spikes just right. This is ridiculous, he thought. It’s just a date. No. It was actually more than that. It was his first date with Sander. Something he couldn’t have ever dreamed of actually happening a week ago.

Just last week, they had been laying on Robbe’s bed, ankles and heads at opposite ends of each other, talking about school, assignments, friends, places and somehow they’d ended up on the topic of sea creatures and aquariums.

“Do you know that jellyfish don’t have a brain?” Sander asked. There was a twinkle in his eye and a mischievous smile forming across his mouth. Robbe looked at him.

“You don’t have a brain,” he playfully and lightly kicked his shoulder, a smile playing on his lips too.

“Ok, but seriously, they don’t have a nervous system, like people don’t even know how they move!” he continued.

Robbe shrugged. “They are beautiful though,” he said, looking up at the ceiling.

Sander sat up, now fully engaged in the conversation, his thoughts running.

“They have four feeding tentacles, they can sting you so bad, they have five stomachs and they’re 97% water. Is that not impressive?” he asked.

“I guess,” Robbe smiled at his enthusiasm.

“You guess?” Sander scoffed, tilting his head. “So what impresses you, Ijzermans?”

Robbe tried to ignore how his tone made his heart flip in dizzying cartwheels. Tried to not let the sound of his last name coming from him drown him. Tried not to say, you.

“Not much. Right now they sound like the kind of thing I’d be reading about in my biology textbook,” he shifted his legs and slumped further into the bed.

“But you like reading your biology textbook,” Sander smirked.

“I don’t know, they sound kind of scary. Whimsical little things at the bottom of the ocean that we don’t know much about. Like you said, we don’t even know how they move.”

He could feel Sander’s eyes on him, wholly green, sparkling with intent. Robbe couldn’t take it anymore and finally looked at him questioningly as if to say, what?

“They drift through the current” he finally said. “That doesn’t mean they know where they’re going but...” he kept his eyes on him. “Do you wanna go see them?”

“What?”

“There’s an exhibit at the aquarium that I really wanted to see and they’ve got- well you- I mean - we don’t have to-“

“We?”

Robbe couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes we. If you want to that is” Sander smiled. He was suddenly kind of sheepish, but his eyes never left Robbe’s. And Robbe in his abrupt state of confusion could never have imagined Sander like this, all nervous and anxious. He and Sander had been spending a lot of time together over the past few months and he could never tell when his energy changed if it was because he was Sander or if it was because of an effect Robbe had on him. He couldn’t even imagine that he could ever have any sort of effect on him at all. He realized it had been a while and he needed to respond.

“Yeah,” he grinned, nodding his head. “Yeah, I want to.”

“It’s a date, then,” he reached over for his phone, scrolling through his calendar. “We could go Wednesday after school. Half day, right?”

As Sander tapped to go to the aquarium’s website to buy tickets, Robbe stared at him. His eyes shifted over his bleached hair, his endearing eyes, his black Bowie shirt, and the way he looked so nonchalant now, seconds after being anything but calm. And Robbe didn’t know where his courage came from but he wanted to take advantage of his last sentence to say,

“When you say date, do you mean like a date date?” he asked.

Sander froze. He slowly looked up from his phone, licked his lips and asked, “Do you want it to be a date date?”

Robbe breathed in. There was no turning back now.

“Yeah. Do you?”

“Yeah,” Sander’s lips curved upwards.

And now Robbe was standing in front of the mirror feeling very self-conscious and not at all like the Robbe that asked him out. Or was it Sander that asked him? He couldn’t tell but he’d be here very soon and all he could think about was what do you even wear to an aquarium? He opted to wear his dark green hoodie and jeans. This was casual anyways and he didn’t really feel like a dress shirt would be appropriate for the occasion and just when he felt like maybe he could change, he heard the doorbell ring. Shaking his hair one last time and grabbing his phone off the counter he went to greet Sander.

“Hey,” said a smiling Sander.

“Hi,” said a smiling Robbe.

“You look good,” Sander’s eyes drifted down. It vanished Robbe’s doubts and he looked at Sander too, in his white shirt and black leather jacket.

“So do you.”

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

They started with the sea turtles and then would make their way to the stingrays. Sander had said they’d go through the whole aquarium and he was saving the best one, the jellyfish of course, for last.

He was so excited, he was practically vibrating at the front doors. There weren’t as many people inside since it was a weekday and Robbe figured that probably made Sander beam even more whenever he looked at him.

As they walked around each exhibit, Robbe felt like he’d never seen such beauty and iridescence. Seeing how the lights made all the creatures glimmer in the water and how the curves of the glass above them engulfed them into the sea made Robbe feel the strangest sense of calm. He watched in their respective exhibits as stingrays and sea turtles and beluga whales swam by, their slow movements synchronizing with his heartbeat. It felt as if time stopped and when Sander grabbed his hand, he looked to see him staring at him with such sincerity, the crinkles in his eyes prominent from his smile. Robbe sighed.

“I can see you like it,” he felt Sander’s breath on his cheek.

“Yeah, it’s really great.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“The jellyfish?”

“Mmmmhh,” Sander hummed in agreement. “But first, lets check out that one,” he nodded to another area in the corner, a more hands-on and interactive exhibit.

Robbe and Sander stood near the tank in front of them inspecting the oddly shaped starfish. Sander nudged Robbe.

“Touch it.”

“No.”

“Touch it.”

“No.”

“Touch it.”

“No! You touch it!” Robbe giggled and shoved him lightly. Sander reached out and ran his fingers over one of its arms.

“It’s soft,” he said. Then suddenly, “Ahh!” as he pulled his hand out of the water. His finger had bumped a sharp rock and he shook the water off his hand as he inspected it. “Can you kiss it better?” he asked Robbe.

Robbe shook his head, chuckling as he lifted his hand to his lips and kissed it lightly.

“Actually my lips hurt, can you kiss them better too?” Sander smirked.

“I don’t kiss on the first date,” Robbe wrapped his arms around him.

“Mmmmh, maybe on the next one then.”

And then finally, finally, they made it to the jellyfish exhibit. Sander’s pace picked up faster than Robbe’s as he let go of his fingers to run up to the glass. Robbe followed, watching. He looked up to the bioluminescent creatures, neon colours of pinks, purples, blues and yellows, and stared in awe. Seeing them in his textbook was one thing, but seeing them in person, right in front of you, floating around like some strange, other-worldly thing? It wasn’t scary, it was...breathtaking.

“Aurelia aurita,” Sander broke his trance. “Or more commonly known as moon jellyfish or the common jellyfish, moon jellies if you will,” he made a face, laughing. “They’re found in most oceans but mostly the Atlantic. No nervous system, no muscles, they feed on plankton. They live a simple life” he finished. It sounded exactly like what Robbe had read in his textbook. He thought he was the science nerd here and he wasn’t expecting Sander to be so knowledgeable in all this.

“So,” his lips etched up. “Why jellyfish?” Robbe asked. Sander took a moment to watch the creatures slowly float by.

“My mom said I used to draw them all the time when I was a kid. Then I got obsessed with them and as I learned more about them, I think I got really interested in the fact that they don’t have brains. At least not in a complicated way like some animals and humans do.”

He looked lost in the water, eyes in a daze and Robbe almost regretted asking the question. Sander took a seat on the empty bench placed for viewing the fish. Robbe followed.

“Do you remember how I told you about my thoughts? And how they don’t stop sometimes?”

Robbe nodded. They’d gotten quite close the last few months.

“Well, I think I like jellyfish bc they don’t have brains to have any thoughts. They can just drift wherever the current takes them,” he said. “But sometimes they can sting you and I- I don’t want to do that.”

Robbe thought back to their conversation a week ago and how he had called jellyfish scary. He had no idea Sander felt like that. He didn’t know if Sander even meant it like this when they were talking then. He thought it was just about the sea creatures. And maybe it had been in the beginning.

“Sander,” Robbe immediately took his hands in his, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. “You’re not a jellyfish. You’re you.” He shifted closer, touching his knees to his. “And I really like you.”

“I really like you, too,” Sander touched his forehead to Robbe’s. After a long moment of just sitting still like that, Robbe whispered,

“Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you didn’t kiss on first dates,” Sander chuckled softly. “Yes.”

Robbe softly pressed his lips to his. Though the exhibit was practically empty, he was thankful to keep it short and sweet, still basking in the taste, lightheaded from the fact that he was here with Sander. And as their date came to an end, Robbe left feeling content and grateful that he agreed to come to the aquarium with him. And the best part was Sander holding his hand throughout it all, excited and giddy to look at all the sea animals. Once they walked back to Robbe’s door, Sander felt reluctant to let go of his hand.

“I had a great time today,” Robbe said.

“Me too.”

And before Sander knew it, Robbe was pulling him in for another longer kiss, kissing him in ways he couldn’t at the aquarium.

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Sander lingered a bit longer until he let go and headed out.

“Remember!” Robbe shouted as Sander turned back. “You’re not a jellyfish!”

“I could be! Am I not pretty enough?”

“Beautiful!”

Sander gave him one last smile before he disappeared around the corner. Robbe finally closed the door and his cheeks hurt from grinning so widely. Today didn’t feel real but he was so glad Sander let him into his world. One thing that he knew for sure was that this was the best first date ever and that he couldn’t wait until the next one.

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.1

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader (i don’t know if this will have ships or just friendship or what I am just letting it run its course) Genres: friendship, drama, romance Rating: All Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 2k 

[Part 2]  [Tag Yourself Here]

The announcement lit up everyone’s phones at once the chimes and vibrations alerting everyone within the dance studio to the emergency update. Your brother looked horrified up at you as he read the text you couldn’t speak Korean or read it well enough to understand but he left to his office. You followed his footsteps and caught his office door before it could shut. 

Switching the tv on he nervously tapped the remote in his hand listening to the people in the news station talk while bright red banners at the top and bottom of the screen relayed the emergency message repeatedly. 

“What is happening?” “Everyone is to stay indoors, they are closing down the streets and disinfecting everything if you step outside you will be shot, detained or poisoned by the chemicals, they said there are no more flights in or out of South Korea” 

Running his hand through his dark brown hair which had once been what some might call a dishevelled design and now was a nest. His tone was clipped as he told you to stay in the office, he left the room his jacket disappearing as the door shut with a small click. The ticking of the clock was so loud or perhaps that was the fierce beating of your heart thrumming against your eardrums and shaking your vestibular system. Bladder feeling tight as the rush of adrenaline caused your kidneys to work double time. Lunging at the door and chasing after your brother, Where had he gone? Opening doors left and right down the hallway calling his name. 

Trying to catch a single glimpse of the tails of his coat, before you busted open more doors filled with back up dancers all looking equally nervous. Turning the corner you started a new hallway throwing open every door you could get your hands on, your chest grew tight. Falling through the door and into a room you called for your brother trying to see through your tears. 

“Where did you go?” You sobbed, falling to your knees you were gasping for air.  “The virus?” One of the boys pointed at your collapsed figure in the doorway he had a very unique face, he had a strong jawline and high cheekbones his nose was super cute like a pixie slightly turned up and gave him a mischievous nature, his lips were turned in concern and the cupids bow was well defined and overall he had a lanky figure. You knew what he said as you had heard this word spoken repeatedly since you had been notified of the Coronavirus.

“Y/n” The familiar voice pulled you back to reality, “hey Woah it’s okay breath, it’s just an alert” There was a familiar rattling sound of a shaking canister and the plastic pressed to your lips brought back memories. You instinctively took a deep breath. “She is fine, she just gets panic attacks”

“You left me” wiping your eyes “You are okay, we all got tested on the way in remember, we are all healthy we have food and water and supplies to last a long time, and I am not leaving you alone okay” Laying your head back against the wall calming down enough to know you had walked into the office of the most famous K-pop boy band.

“I am sorry boys for my sister barging in” “No, it’s okay really,” This man said softly his voice was deep and he spoke English with clarity. He didn’t have a typical Korean boy band face but it was exotic and charming. He was very tall and slim. His full lips curved up into a smile and he handed over a blanket. Wrapping it around your shoulders, his large hands and long forearms had a few prominent veins that seemed to make you lose your breath in a totally unrelated way. “you must have been so scared, it’s okay?”

“I am sorry” “You can stay if you would like?” This voice was sweet and gentle speaking slowly in English. And yet the man behind the voice was truly a god sent the first thing you noticed were his large eyes which had sharp edges slightly turned up like a cat. Next, you noticed his smooth skin and prince charming demeanour. His lips were like soft pink pillows that made you wonder what it would be like to just gently bite. He stood up and walked closer kneeling in front of you, your eyes scanning his form he had shoulders like he was hiding football armour under his sweater. A part of you wanted to reach out and squeeze them gently.

“it is scary being on your own and my handsome face will make you feel better” he winked and you bit down on your lips before you said anything embarrassing. “No, we should leave you to it, come on, let’s not bother them anymore” With his arm under yours and across your back your brother helped guide you back to his small office. He was a choreographer and managed a few dance groups for BigHit, not at the level of BTS but bigger than a high school dance team. He laid you on the small couch and got you a glass of water. “Sleep I will email mum and dad”

He circled the floor his footsteps soundless on the plush carpet. You heard the tapping of a keyboard and faint sounds of what were either you dreaming or talking. It was like everything was happening at once and it felt like you had shut your eyes for a mere second, however, when you opened them the light was off and it was dark outside. The tapping of the keyboard and the talking had come to an abrupt stop. The silence was so loud.

He was gone. Throwing yourself upright you almost fell off the tiny couch only to be caught by a pair of hands. “your brother went to get some food but he was worried you would wake up, I was the only one who willingly stayed behind”

“Who are you?” “Kim Seokjin, but you call me Jin, You know” Eyes adjusting to the darkness you saw you were in the arms of the broad-shouldered gentleman. He sat you back onto the couch. You tried to discreetly touch his shoulders, you squeezed the area curiously, he looked down at your hand.

“I am sorry, it’s just you looked like you were wearing football armour, I thought your shoulders were fake but they aren’t, that is crazy” “Yes, they are real, so is my handsome face, you know, you may touch” he laughed grabbing your hands trying to bring them to his face, you shook your head before your stomach started growling. He pushed up onto his feet pulling you to yours as his hands were still gripping yours in a firm and yet gentle grip. “Okay, we go to eat”

He went to leave holding your hand but you moved it from his and linked your arm around his gently holding onto his bicep for support. He treated you like a gentleman and even helped you get a tray of food and carried them across the cafeteria. It was a set meal and Seokjin lead you to his table, you couldn’t spot your brother so you followed the broad-shouldered young man like he was parting the sea. 

“Ya Jiiiin” they shouted all talking as Jin placed your meal across from him. “Miss y/l/n, This is Kim Namjoon our leader and Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi, Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Taehyung” They greeted you with a small hello bow or wave while eating and you lowered your head giving your name back before continuing to eat in silence. 

You made a face at the strong smell of kimchi. Gently lifting the small metal circle off your tray and pushed it to the centre of the table. Your stomach couldn’t handle the strong fermented taste of Kimchi. “Where do we sleep?” You piped up when they had finally stopped talking to eat their meals, your question had some of them freezing as they looked down at their plates.

“There is one room of beds but I don’t think we will get them, the CEO's get priority” they nodded at the words and you hummed looking around.  “What about all the couches? Are they foldout beds?” Pushing your empty tray forward to rest your hand on the table.  “I don’t think so?” Namjoon hummed “perhaps we should invest”

Once dinner was over you searched the building for anything remotely useful for a bed and you came across an old storeroom, that had obviously accumulated props, broken furniture and lost and found items. Among the broken chairs and ripped curtains. You found a queen-sized futon in a packet it looked like a promotional item, the plastic cover was dusty and you found three sleeping bags. Taking the service elevator you brought the items upstairs and as quick as you could to your brother’s small office. 

You passed the boys communal meeting room and froze you didn’t need all these items. Knocking on the door you waited patiently. They opened the door and you stepped inside and shut the door, “I found a futon and some sleeping bags and I know there isn’t enough for everyone but I only need for my brother and I and thought maybe you might like something, as a thank you for being kind, You can probably fit three or four on the futon so you should have it”

“You found it so you should have it?” Namjoon said softly and you blushed you hadn’t expected all their attention on you like this. It made it hard to think of what to say. “Where did you find it?” Jungkook asked “There is a storage room in the basement full of broken furniture”

“Look Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook and I have Futon’s cause sometimes we fall asleep here when we are working you should keep whatever you want and we will take any extra’s” “Well, um if five of you have futons, then the other two can share the queen futon, and my brother and I will have sleeping bags, do you know if there is anyone else who needs something to sleep on?”

“Uh yes actually our manager in the office to the left,” Jimin said walking forward. The room seemed to get hotter with every elegant and precise step he took. Feet crossing one over the other his leg extending gracefully his steps looked light as a feather and didn’t leave a hint of a sound. He looked like you could bump him and he could go flying away. Yet the muscles contracting visibly against the dark fabric of his pants proved he wasn’t as feeble as you thought, he was compact and strong.

“Do you have a preference in which sleeping bags you would like?” “Uh..” Mind blank as you were frozen in place by his piercing eyes, they were a smouldering dark reddish-brown. You blinked cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink and started inspecting the three sleeping bags in your arms, you checked the size and made sure they were all cleaned and didn’t have any odd lingering smells. They were all in excellent condition so you chose the smallest. “I assume I am the smallest so your manager can have one of the taller ones”

“You’re cute, let’s go” He grinned taking one and patting your head, you followed him out watching his tight pants move with every step. You noticed his shoulders dip with each step and that he was leading with his hips. You ducked past him as he knocked on his manager’s office door. “Ah, goodnight dream about me”

You froze eyes blowing wide and your cheeks going bright red, his laugh made him look like an innocent schoolboy and he almost toppled over in amusement. You scurried off into the office trying to regain any semblance of composure, leaning against the door taking deep breathes the laughter echoing in your head “Where did you go?” “I got sleeping bags from an old storage room in the basement”

That night you couldn’t sleep to busy thinking about the handsome young men who were a few rooms down, you had met them all but only a few of them you had the chance to inspect closely.

[Part 2] [Tag Yourself Here]

[princesstutufandemonium]

Rapsblüte no Yoru (Princess Tutu epilogue skit) and my thoughts

Or: Why a bitch is still salty after 9 years

So, as previously mentioned on this blog, there was a skit presented at a Princess Tutu convention in 2004 by series creator Ikuko Itoh and chief director Junichi Sato called “Rapsblüte no Yoru.” It takes place about a year after the anime’s ending and serves to wrap up some loose ends about the characters and their feelings - particularly Ahiru and Mytho.

So I’ve talked about it before, but now more time has passed, so I thought I’d let the raging monster out of its slumber to REALLY address the epilogue and my own uncensored thoughts and feelings about it. Half of this ended up reading like a rant, really, but I just had to get it all out there. 

Here is the skit, as recited by Japanese blogger Goma and translated by LiveJournal user csakuras, along with my reactions and thoughts, which are indicated by the blockquotes.

"Quaack.." Ahiru seems to be swimming on the river during a night with a beautiful moon It's been a while since then, and every day I'm happy. It's fun talking with my bird friends, and Madam Pelican is a little noisy, but...it's fun. And besides......whenever I look up, Fakir is always there.

So Ahiru has returned to life as a bird and has settled in well. Good for her.

Ahiru: "I've come all the way to Gold Crown Academy....somehow I feel like dancing." Saying that, Ahiru climbs onto the bank and is surprised to find the whole surface covered with rape blossoms. Ahiru: "Gwak!!" Autor: "Oh? What's this?" It seems he stepped on Ahiru.. Ahiru: "Gwakgwak!!" Ahiru protests. Autor: "Oh it's you, Ahiru-kun...isn't Fakir with you?" Autor backs away as Ahiru tries to talk to him. Autor: "Sorry, but could you not get so close? I'll start sneezing from my bird allergies." (The mystery of his dislike of birds is solved.) Ahiru: "Charon-san and Raetsel-san had a child so Fakir went to the celebration."

The idea of this seems to negate all of Raetsel’s development, but okay then.

Autor: "I see....by the way, did you come to see the Night of Rapsblüte too?" Ahiru: "Rap..Rapsblüte?" Ahiru asks curiously. Ahiru: "Rapsblüte are rape blossoms, right?" Here, Autor goes Hnph! with his nose as if making fun of her. Autor: "The Night of Rapsblüte is when once every 50 years, all the rape blossoms bloom simultaneously on a night of the full moon. According to what I've researched in the library, in the records of a student from 50 years ago, there is an eye-witness account." Ahiru heaves a sigh (lol) Autor: "And tonight, the weather, the date, everything matches with the past data!" Autor is full of confidence. "Besides that, you're in the music department so maybe you should be studying piano instead..." Ahiru mutters. Autor: "Did you say something?" Ahiru: "Huh? Autor can understand me." Hnph, he laughs at her with his nose again. Autor: "Anything can happen tonight and it wouldn't be strange." Ahiru: "The moon is so pretty..." (Here, a man wearing a mask of the moon appears from behind..it's a great hit in the assembly) Autor: "What's that? An onion?" Ahiru: "!!" Uzura: "Ho~ Ahiru zura~" *Tototon* (her drum) Ahiru: "Uzura-chan!!" Ahiru: "Uzura-chan! Where were you?" Uzura: "I've been wandering the interval of time with the old man zura."

WHAT does that even mean?! What is the interval of time?! Considering Uzura’s previous life as Edel, it’s surprising that Uzura chooses to stick with Drosselmeyer. He’s the one who put her Ahiru and Fakir through so much trouble, after all. Then again, Uzura is a child and probably has no memory or idea of the role Drosselmeyer played and the evil things he did. Uzura also isn’t human, so maybe human morals don’t bother her as much.

Ahiru: "By the old man do you mean Drosselmyer-san? Then where's Drosselmyer-san?" "Drosselmyer?!!" <--(Autor's switch is on) Uzura: "The old man is busy with updating the site zura, sorry he's so irresponsible zura." (Here, Director Satou is rolling with laughter.) Autor: "Why didn't you bring him with you?!" Clearly, his Drosselmyer otaku switch is on lol

I hate you, Autor. I try not to but I do.

Uzura: "One more is coming zura." Autor: "One more?" Mytho: ".......Tutu." Ahiru: "Mytho!!" (I can never forget Ahiru's sad voice here)

Ah, and here it is. The agony.

You know, I could possibly stomach the whole damn ending of the show if the epilogue doesn’t go on to make it entirely clear how heartbroken Ahiru still is. I mean, if Ahiru is actually happy, there’s nothing more you can want for her. But this here kind of ruins it. Like, why?! How am I supposed to be content with her situation when she’s sad at the mere sight of Mytho?!

Mytho: "It's been a while...." Uzura: "He was dancing on the balcony so I brought him zura." (....At your own pace as usual, Prince.) Autor: "Prince Siegfried from the story!! Myu...Mytho-san." (He sounds as emotional as if he were meeting Drosselmyer.) Mytho: "Are you Fakir's friend...?" Autor: "I'm Autor!" Mytho: "You were the one who helped Fakir? Thank you..." (How does he know..)

How DOES he know? Well, there was a tiny time skip between the defeat of the Raven and Mytho and Rue’s departure to the story. Perhaps things were explained a little during then.

Autor: "No! It was an honor." (only dimly remember) Mytho: "If I remember correctly, during our ballet lessons you were asked by Neko-sensei to accompany us on piano." Autor: "Yes, I was asked to accompany you on piano by Neko-sensei 11 times, and I passed by you with Neko-sensei in the hall 27 times." (Jeez, Autor's in high spirits (lol)) Mytho: "Fakir sometimes sees cows and alligators flying in the sky, so I'm worried. Could you take care of Fakir?"

 Mytho seems to naturally be a little bit of an airhead. It’s funny to see that qualities of him that we saw in the anime can be attributed not to his lack of a heart and common sense, but just to how his personality really is. Cute.

Autor: "Yes!! Mytho-san, please leave him to me." (He's been left to him without having a say, Fakir's in a pinch (lol)) Ahiru: "Mytho? How is Rue-chan?" Mytho: "Rue is doing well." Mytho: "It seems Rue is good at singing too and she's a popular princess among the people." Autor: "Rue-san?"

So Rue is a true lady of the arts, not good only at dancing but at singing too. Interesting that she’s so popular, considering that she honestly doesn’t seem to be the most sociable person. Polite, but not going out of her way to be friendly. Perhaps her time in the story with Mytho has defrosted her even more. What is the new Rue like, I wonder?

Uzura: "Mytho is rabu-rabu with Rue zura~" Autor: "Could you be quiet for a while..." His voice is lacking energy and sounds like he might cry (He knows they're rivals in love..is that okay?)

WHY is Autor so torn up over Rue still?! He never even really spent time with her. Foolish kids, I tell you. She was hardly more than a pretty face to him.

Ahiru: "Thank goodness... Mytho. "The Concluding Volume of The Prince and the Raven" got published. It's not a story without an end anymore." Ahiru: "And also, soon Fakir's going to dance an all-male version of La Sylphide with Matthew Bourne-sensei's choreography!"

Soooo this part is confusing. The concluding volume… So The Prince and the Raven was a story published in installments? The show made it look like it was just a single novel. Unless they mean that they simply published an official ending… But if the story was given an ending, wouldn’t that affect the storybook world? And who wrote the ending and got it published, Fakir? A couple of questions that remain here.

Mytho: "Fakir....I always feel like I'm connected with Fakir..the more my country becomes peaceful, I can feel him close by." (It's...mostly dim recollection. Just the nuance of it.)

Yeah, don’t act like you didn’t just up and leave him AND Ahiru once your business was finished, Mytho. Anyways, skipping the salt, does this mean that Fakir’s conclusion to the novel made things more peaceful in the story world? That’s what it sounds like to me.

Actually, isn’t it kind of scary that Fakir can still wield influence over Mytho’s world? What if he got pissed off at him? yikes

Ahiru: "Mytho...." "You should meet Fakir! He's coming back tomorrow..so then.." Mytho: "I can't..I can only come here because the interval of time is connected tonight..see, the moon is already sinking this much." (The man playing the moon sinks down (lol) The assembly bursts into laughter again) "I see..."

WHAT is with this ‘interval of time’ nonsense again! Someone explain it to me!

Also, fuck Fakir, apparently.

Mytho: "Princess Tutu.....thanks to you, I can be like this. Thank you." Ahiru: "I wanted to see you smile, so my wish is already granted." (only dimly remember)

 AND THERE IT FINALLY IS!!!

“Thank you, Tutu, for risking your life to save mine and restore my happiness and holding your tongue about your feelings for me so I could do nothing for you in return and leave hours later.”

No, I’m not salty. Anyways, the abrupt ending to the show without much dialogue was due to time constraints, not necessarily a true display of Mytho’s character, which I guess this epilogue was partly written to fix. It does seem pretty heartless when you watch the anime, though.

Mytho: "Princess Tutu, I wanted to be with you longer. I wanted to talk with you like this longer....to me, you are the light....because you are someone very special..." (?? Mytho/Ahiru?)

See, this is why I just can’t do it. Like, Mytho, are you fucking kidding?! You leave her alone as a duck and now you want to sweet-talk her?!

But actually, all bitterness aside, this is really sad. They obviously care for each other, but because of circumstances and plot, never once did they have the time to really just… talk.

And he still sees her as the light. I saw some people kind of making fun of this, but of COURSE he does. There was a considerable period of time when she was the only person vouching for him, keeping him safe, acting as his voice… and ultimately saving him in every way. He can only be a real person again because of her, and she never faltered in her mission. That’s INCREDIBLE. Of course he would hold her in high regard.

Mytho: "But, I have to protect Rue. Rue needs me...." (I'm sorry, it's completely out of memory...because I was so overwhelmed..(lol) I should take my reeling in moderation)

And here’s the dagger. After talking about how highly he thinks of Ahiru/Tutu… he backtracks by saying Rue needs him.

And you know why this is REALLY fucking sad? He doesn’t say that “But, I really enjoy being with Rue” or “But, I love Rue.”

He says he has to PROTECT Rue. Rue NEEDS him.

I don’t think I need to dive too deep into the implications of his wording to spell out why this is upsetting, but I’ll sum it up quick. Instead of saying he likes being with Rue, he says Rue needs me. That’s the first thing that comes to mind.

And if it means what I think it means, that’s just fucking harsh. That’s not fair for Rue. That’s not fair for Ahiru. That’s not fair for Mytho.

I mean, we all know the prince has a savior-complex, but the implication that he chose Rue because he feels a sense of duty to protect her instead of romantic affection is kind of… tragic. That’s not a happy ending at all, really. Does Rue have any idea?

I think this is why I have an issue with Ruetho, because no matter what you can’t escape the fact that Mytho will always view her through the lens of what she suffered. It’s just in his personality as a heroic, selfless prince. Doesn’t Rue deserve someone who sees her as… more than someone to protect?

Whatever, can’t be changed now.

Mytho: "Tutu...you have done so much for me, but I couldn't do anything for you." "Is there something I can do for you, Tutu?"

WHAT on Earth could he possibly expect to be able to do for her?! I mean, short of turning her human again, but I’m guessing that’s out of the scope of his abilities. Don’t be so bait-y.

Ahiru: "......Mytho! I.........." "No, nevermind..." (Ahiru sounds incredibly sad)

AUGHHHHHHHH

What was she going to say? You know what, probably doesn’t matter anyway. We know what she wants… she can’t have it, though.

Mytho: "It's almost time..." "See you again....Tutu...." (Jeez..I don't remember any of it) Ahiru: "Can we meet again?" Mytho: "Surely we will meet again..." Mytho (or is it Yanagi-san? lol): "We can meet again, when Sakurai-kun is here." (The assembly explodes with laughter)

NOOOOOOOO

No no no

No, do NOT meet again. This is just asking for trouble. Ahiru clearly isn’t over Mytho, and Mytho… clearly does not have his priorities straightened out. If they keep meeting like this…

Well, as the anime shows, it wouldn’t be the first time they put themselves through the wringer for love. Mytho recites something in German. "Waaao!!" <--(Uzura)

What did he say? I’m curious.

Here, Mytho says his never-ending feelings for Tutu (if someone remembers this part please tell me~) And at the end, Mytho: ".......Ahiru."

 ……..Yeahhh, probably not a good idea to meet again.

Like, I get that this epilogue is to ‘tie up loose ends’ including the torched remnants of Mythiru that were dropped so abruptly at the end, but...

Why, oh why, Mytho, did you choose Rue if you’re still hung up on Tutu?

Additionally, we see that Mytho DOES now know that Tutu is Ahiru. That’s bittersweet too, but in more of a good way. He finally knows that the little passionate goofball was the princess all along. I wonder who told him, or how he found out. Did he just figure it out on his own? Like, the duck that was once Princess Tutu must be Ahiru because Ahiru = duck? Maybe Uzura told him? I doubt Fakir would’ve, simply because once she was back to being a duck again permanently, there was really no reason to tell Mytho. Couldn’t much matter anymore, right?

Ahiru: "I get the feeling I heard Mytho's voice at the end." I am a duck....I can't wear toe shoes, I can't dance.. (I'm sorry, I don't remember) But inside my chest there is a sparkling gem that will never be broken. The end.

And that’s it.

Sooo a lot of conflicted feelings coming at me from this, if you couldn’t tell. I guess first is the question of whether or not this could be considered canon.

Honestly? I think so. Both Ikuko Itoh and Junichi Sato, the people behind Princess Tutu, worked on this and presented it. They even had some of the Japanese VAs present to act it out. Additionally, as I’d mentioned previously, it addresses some questions that were left open due to the somewhat rushed ending of the anime’s finale. And nothing presented in this skit goes against the show’s canon or really comes out of left field (aside Charon and Raetsel man tf). It’s short and sweet.

Moving on, the first time I read this I was really happy, simply because it makes it clear that YES, Mytho does return Ahiru’s feelings. Which I guess was clear in the anime too, but this skit makes it undeniable. It’s nice to feel validated.

But as time goes on and I’ve had the chance to chew over and really digest it… It’s kind of a really crappy situation for our heroine and hero. Like, so they are in love, and they want to continue seeing each other… but Mytho is SUPPOSED to be spoken for with Rue, and Ahiru is a duck. Not to mention that Ahiru is Rue’s FRIEND. C’mon girl, chicks before dicks. Of course, they could still interact platonically, but the confession from Mytho in this skit kind of shot that possibility dead. And what about Fakir in this mess? Granted, Fakir isn’t stupid – he’s known that Ahiru loves Mytho from the beginning, and it’s not exactly like he can be in a relationship with a duck. But still.

Maybe I’m just looking too far into things, but with a piece this short and direct, I don’t know how deep you can really dive.

Anyways, my final thoughts are: Mythiru is canon but in the most tragic way possible, Rue deserves better, annnnnnd I’m still left unsatisfied.

[yutaone]

yunho imagine

[ zero calls ]

a long sigh left your mouth as you stared at your phone for the thirtieth time. you thought to yourself : there was no reason to call, it would only make you weaker. it had been two whole days since the intimacy you shared with him. you’d gotten second hand embarrassment when the thought of the way you rushed home came to you. it was too unplanned , too quick, and too much to handle. the thought of calling him burned so deeply in your mind, wanting to see him again and talk normally with him. he must feel upset, as if he had done something wrong. all you wanted to do was diminish that idea from his head and walk with him along the streets once more. but something in you would not pick up the phone, it was reminding you of the scrambled thought in your mind that you didn’t know what to say to him. you placed a hand on your lips, feeling the nonexistent tingle of his lips when they kissed you in the street, right before you ran away from him. you wished so desperately to go back to that moment, to regain your confidence and let him make you as happy as you were. looking at the clock, you knew he would be practicing at this time. the thought of seeing him again made your heart race and your pulse leap.

with an abrupt jump from your seat, you set out to go visit his practice room. as scary as it sounded to you, nothing would stop you from seeing yunho. you dressed yourself simply and headed for the door. with a yank of the doorknob the door swinged open, to reveal him on the other side. he stood tall and handsome, his hand in position to knock on your door. he held an awkward grin, perhaps matching your surprised expression. he took a step back and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“i.. um... sorry, you look to be in a rush. i didn’t mean to interrupt your mission. is this a bad time?” he spoke, making you remember how much you’d missed him talk.

“no! i was just.. i don’t actually know what i was doing” you said, failing to tell him you were planning to see him.

“well, i just wanted to talk if you have any time. i could come back sometime- “ he began, you quickly spoke.

“nonsense, come in” you said to him, turning back around so that he followed you. he closed the door whilst silence filled the room, when you turned back to him, he looked at you with sincerity.

“yunho... before you say anything. i just wanted to.. apologize” you said to him, his hand waved it away.

“you don’t have to, I know you must have felt rushed” he said, diminishing the fear of embarrassment you had.

“just a little..” you admitted to him, he nodded.

“i vow to not do it again, to not let myself get carried away like that for your comfort. because i do care about you” yunho spoke. the statement only making you realize how much you also cared about him. the feeling of him vowing to never kiss you again didn’t relieve you as he thought, but saddened you with loneliness.

“but, I’d wished that we could initiate that moment once more, or perhaps many times as I feel most comfortable now than ever” you replied, eyes never leaving his wide ones. the confidence that you held before opening the door came back once more. his astoundment never left as he came closer to you, grabbing you by the hand so that your eye contact became more intimate. his face was so close to yours, causing your heart to speed back up.

“that is.. music to my ears sweetheart” he replied

his lips once again colliding with yours as it did once before, but much more comfortably. the night falling with many intimate shared kisses.

the end .

[antihero-writings]

The Fall and the Fury

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Fic Summary: Hiccup knew it was better to send the dragons away...but he may never fully recover from losing Toothless. The nights come with a fury unlike anything he knew before.

Notes: 

This fic actually has a story behind it, but it’s long and kinda spoils what happens in the fic, so check my reblog for that!!

I’d absolutely love to write more for this franchise, though, so if you’ve got any prompts, send ‘em over!! I just don’t know what to write on my own XD

Also * A group of dragons is called a "thunder." (Just learned that, and I love it XD)

I’d really really appreciate if you could leave a comment!!! They really do make my week, and motivate me to keep writing!!

The Fall and the Fury

“There were dragons, when I was a boy.” Hiccup tells his children dramatically.

“There were great, grim, sky dragons that nested on the cliff-tops like gigantic, scary birds.” He stands up holding his arm up high. “Little brown, scuttly dragons”—he scuttled his fingers along their legs, making them laugh—“that hunted down the mice and rats in well-organized packs.”—He mimicked a dragon chomping down on a mouse, by tickling their stomachs—“Preposterously huge sea dragons that were twenty times as big as the big blue whale.” He held his hands far apart.

“Did you have a dragon, daddy?” Nuffink asks softly.

He grins at the question. “Yes, I did.”—And behind the words is a joy unlike anything they’ve seen in their father before before—“He was the rarest of all. He was a Night Fury.” As the words rang, the wind seemed a little louder outside. “I called him—”

******

Everything is blue; deep and navy, almost black; the sky, dotted with sparks, the waves below bouncing moonlight back up to them.

The wind plays with his hair, and it seems the man in the moon is laughing. Hiccup lays on the dragon’s back, breathing out, staring up at the stars, and for a moment he is…perfectly happy.

But that’s the thing about moments, about happiness.

His breath is snatched from somewhere deep in his gut.

The fall. Abrupt, and unending. Navy and white flashing by, and the dizziness is not from the spinning, but the fact that somehow, his best friend isn’t there to catch him.

And as his dragon shrieks, looking, panicked, down at him, trying to catch up to him and, for once, failing… the two getting further and further away, until the dragon is but a black speck in the distance…it feels like Hiccup’s very heart is what’s being pulled from him. The strings between them unraveling, and they’ll surely sever.

And somehow he knows he’ll never see him again.

When he wakes up it is in a sweat that is somehow cold, and that breath that he couldn’t find seconds ago is back with a fervor. And for a brief second he… wishes it wasn’t. That he wasn’t breathing, wasn’t here, wasn’t now.

“You have the heart of a chief, and the soul of a dragon.”

That’s what his mother told him. One day. So long ago now.

There were dragons when he was a boy, but dragons…they’re not around anymore.

What is he now? The last of the dragons, left alone in this winter, unable to breathe the fire that will keep the cold at bay. It’s so very cold within this skin.

He wishes he could be there, with him.

He thought he was human. Once. Bred to kill dragons, when all this started, so long ago; on that night, when he shot down the most prized dragon of them all. That boy, all scrawny and weak, shaking as he held that knife, thought he was a killer. The thought is laughable now.

Though perhaps it is less laughable than the truth.

He thought he was human. He was wrong.

Maybe that’s what brought them together, what saved them both—(and perhaps it was what became their downfall too? Just how much he loved them, loved him—too much…)

He never thought their adventures would end. He didn’t think Neverland would come crashing down. …He was so young then.

Their lives were built around dragons. Killing them, then caring for them, befriending them, riding them. Without them their foundation cracked, their lives came crashing down. And he’s left here alone with a dragon’s soul, crying out for for his lost species. His thunder* left him here alone. The last of his kind.

And he wishes with everything inside him, that he could be human, for just one single day. Because it isn’t worth the way his soul burns.

“Sometimes I think I can hear him,” he says to his children, with a far-off look in his eye—which he casts out the window and into the night, hoping he’ll reel something in—telling them fairytales and ghost stories in tandem before bed. He hopes they don’t hear the pain lurking behind those words, the desperate longing fused to his irises.

He wants to introduce them to the dragons more than anything. He wanted them to grow up befriending the stars, and unafraid of the fall, too. This is perhaps the greatest tragedy of all; not what he lost, but what they never had.

Sometimes he thinks he can hear that fire and lightning, building power, violet in his throat, until it explodes. Sometimes he thinks he can hear that in the middle of the night.

Once it was such a terrifying sound; the sound of their doom, of houses exploding, of men and woman running for their lives, because this one wouldn’t come for the sheep…it would just shoot its blasts, and knock their world down, and glide away with the wind. Like the wrath of the gods. The fury of the night.

That sound became so comforting it makes his chest hurt to think of now. That longing becoming daggers through him.

So each time he hears it, he shoots up in bed, calling his name, only to find that it’s nothing. Just a figment of his yearning imagination.

Of course it’s nothing.

Sometimes he thinks he can feel it too—feel that fire burning in his own throat.

Until he realizes that’s just his own voice, burning out from screaming so long. And that his breath can create no more fire than words.

And make no mistake, words can be more flammable than a spark in a dry forest.

Sometimes he thinks he can feel him underneath him. His wings around him. Wind and fire and awestruck power. Chasing the daylight.

And everything is perfectly alright.

Until he falls. And falls, and falls. He falls a long time—and surely he will catch me, he always does… before he realizes…he’s not there. So he wakes up, trying to ignore the sting in his eyes, the tracks that have surely stained his cheeks after so many of these nights.

That’s how all his dreams end now: falling.

He never feared that before. With the dragon by your side, there isn’t much to fear. Falling was once exhilarating—at least it is when you know you have someone to catch you. Now he knows what it is to really fall.

And he wishes the dragon was still right there in front of him, to comfort him, nudge him out of his sadness. Make him laugh, no matter how sad he is. Wishes he would wake up to see him laying on that rock he would light up with his breath so it would be warm. Wish upon the stars that can’t surround him anymore. To say it was all a nightmare and they never left.

Is this what growing up is? Is childhood but a dream, to be so harshly severed by the sunrise?

Then he looks down at his leg, like he did the first day they made a difference. The part of himself that’s gone. And it reminds him of too much. Of how they broke each other—(after all, they were supposed to be enemies)—and fixed each other all the same—(but they knew they didn’t have to be).

But he can’t fashion the missing piece of himself out of metal and good intentions this time.

(Now he’d sacrifice the rest of his limbs, if only he could get back his wings.)

Some nights it’s too much to bear, and as the memories tear him up from the inside out, he holds tight to the empty sheets, and finally whispers aloud, to the tempo of hollow heartbeats, and the name he gave him;

“Toothless….Toothless…Toothless…”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Bard's Run for Life (Jaskier x reader, Part 2.)

Description: Geralt of Rivia isn’t always there to watch over Jaskier, his best, yet incapable bard friend. Sometimes, when the Witcher knows that there is bad blood between the bard and someone else, he writes a contract and offers a job - silently watching over Jaskier traveling the roads.

Part Summary: Just as you schemed your grand plan to save the bard from being killed, you wanted to execute it. And Jaskier had the time of his life during it. 

Warnings: A lot of whores. Also, I already mentioned that the reader is bi, so don't be surprised. There will be something happening. Also, I am going with the book Foltest since the series one sucked shit and wasn't accurate at all.

Word count: Not counted for now

Tagging: @nemodoren​ @marioverthere

Series master list: The Incapable Bard’s Contract

The morning was slowly creeping behind the windows, making the birds sing and woods darken. You were sitting at the window, watching the quiet space in front of the door. This day was different from the previous one - instead of the sun, there were dark clouds with a storm coming your way from the north and instead of dust, there was mud all over the ground. You inhaled another smoke from your tobacco pipe, slowly let it out to crawl on the contours of your face. 

The whole night was a nightmare for you since you couldn't fall asleep, and when you almost did, simple screeching could wake you up. If you wanted to leave the inn, and at the moment, you were ready, you could - you packed all your clothes into one of the leather bags, Jaskiers to his. Today, it was an all-black day - you didn't want to wear anything colorful as you sat there in a black cloak and smoked. Anyone came in or out in the last few hours, it was clean outside. Time to leave. Time to disappear like a cloud of smoke.

Carefully, with the tip of your boot, you kicked the bard into the hip almost playfully, watching him gasping for air in the next second. You probably kicked something important, but you didn't care. The theatrics he pretended took a while, but after that, you gave him an unamused look. 

“Wake the fuck up, sleepyhead. There's a big day in front of us. Better move.” - You stood up and hammered the tobacco into the burning fireplace as the ashes fell onto the warmed up stone. You weren't the one leaving clues behind you.

“Calm down, woman. It's barely seven in the morning and I don't wake up until ten.” - Jaskier growled from under the blanket and turned on the other side. You took a small rock and threw it next to his head, yet you missed on purpose. You could hit his right eye without trying to, even from that angle. A loud bang made him jump. But it was enough to wake him up. Where did that rock even come from? Did you want to know?

“Did I stutter, bard? Wake up, stand up on your feet and let's go. We don't have enough time and we are already late.” - You said coldly and hooked the leather bag over your shoulder. Jaskier abruptly stood up and looked at you. - “Did you even slept through the whole night? You, you scary woman, are bloody crazy!”

“Do you want to find out how crazy I am? I didn't sleep the whole night, so I'm deprived, I'm grumpy, hungry, my muscles hurt like a living fuck, whatever you want to say - but just do whatever I want to do and we won't have a problem.” - The coldness in your voice was a thing Jaskier could almost touch. The daggers on your back were uncomfortably pressed into the small of it through the leather straps. Jaskier was a mister in abrupt dressing up, as you noticed. Slowly, he drank the rest of the glass of wine, following you. 

He tried the tactics he started yesterday - asking a question after a question, slowly climbing up on your nerves. When you were about to take a dagger out, you just calmed yourself down with thinking about what could happen to the man if you would just tie him up to the tree and leave him just there at the spot. 

An hour passed by from the moment you've left the inn, but you finally stood in front of the grand city of Vizima. It looked just breathtaking with its hundreds of towers rising up to the iron dark clouds. There were only two legal ways to get to the city leading on two bridges - but you weren't dumb. You knew you will have to take a little detour if you wanted to smuggle Jaskier to the city without being seen.

"You're from here, fair lady? That's where you've been born? I've been to Vizima once or twice, but that's long gone to even remember." - Jaskier looked at you, sincerely smiling at remembering something. You didn't answer or asked for details, you just hummed grumpily and dragged Jaskier to a path seemingly going around Vizima; but when you knew its secrets, you could get into the city without guards noticing you. It was fairly soon in the morning, which was only playing into your hands. You could ace it.

You lead Jaskier through the city's sewers which you knew by heart. You were leaving the city with this exit many, many times before - you had the whole Vizima map on the back of your head. That was also the soldier reminding you that you still had it inside. Instincts and intuition. You knew the city.

You climbed the iron bars leading you behind the city's walls. You climbed after Jaskier and with all his stuff in your hands since he wasn't exactly the best at physical activities. The only thing you could say was that you looked exactly like Saint Nicholass bringing some gifts to the children. From there, it was rather simple for you to go off the main roads leading to places like market and school - it was only hard for Jaskier to shut his damn mouth. So you took the cloth of his shirt and slammed his back to the wooden building behind him.

"One more word and they're after us, do you understand? We need to be quiet as a shadow." - A low growl of your angry voice could be heard as you pressed him to the wall. You’ve been barely hissing and Jaskier truly had the feeling that you will most probably chop his head or other body parts.

Just as you wanted to tell him other, more terrifying scenarios and consequences you could construct at the spot, you heard a sound known to so well, that you got goosebumps. Two soldiers, clapping of steel on their bodies, going in your direction. You knew the men, just because you were doing that work for a few years. Good armor, yet the men could barely run in that thing. 

You could run away, yes, but just as you knew the soldiers and their duties, you knew Vizima. Also, that would catch too much-unwanted attention. Quickly, you glanced over Jaskier's outfit, looking as fancy as it did yesterday. Just as great Vizima was, so it had its darker side full of alcohol, drug usage, promiscuity, and whores. And since you worked like a guard and a soldier in Vizima for your fair amount of time, you were aware of some... Back doors in the law. 

When you looked wealthy and fancy, and Jaskier surely fulfilled both of the categories, the guards were able to close their eyes a tiny bit. Without giving it too many second thoughts, you got on your knees and tugged the bards pants a bit lower, nodding at him, yet not revealing nothing. Jaskier, as proven the day before, was a good actor, playing along with your scenario. His palms gently tugged your hair, but the expression of his face was far from comfortable. Will you just bite his weenie off if he's going to upset you? He truly didn't want to test that theory out at that moment.

Sure, the guards glimpsed over the two of you for a while, laughed a bit, but then, they turned around and continued with their duties. You exhaled out loud and pushed yourself off of Jaskier, standing up. 

“That was somehow weirdly attractive and almost too risky for me to believe that it will ever work out. You must know this place, don't you, scary lady?” - Jaskier asked again after a short moment, letting his mouth loose again. Your head slowly turned to the bard and you gave him an ice-cold gaze. Jaskier just nodded with an unsure expression, his eyes quickly took their look off of you. You almost chuckled when you saw the man covering his junk with palm nervously. 

The rest of the way was quiet and swift, as you dragged Jaskier to the other end of the town, knowing exactly where you’ve been the whole time. That was when you’ve seen it for the first time in a long time - a house on a hill, always brewing with life, alcohol, and sex. The Vizimian Whorehouse, known also as The Pit of Passion, was standing out in the city - it was made of fancy, dark wood with pink stained glass windows where you could see the courtesan’s and naked women's silhouettes. You smiled. This place almost felt like a second home to you. The passionate music and chattering could be heard from where you've been standing, the house never slept.

Jaskier surely was fascinated with your choice of a spot to take hideout at. No, he was more excited than that. And dear God, when you took him in, he was in heaven. Beautiful women, a lot of fine wine, music, laughter, moaning - that was all fulfilling the essence of the house. 

A moment after you took the cloak of your face, not one, but two women ran to you, hugging you with a giggle before giving you a kiss. Both of them circled their arms around your sides under the cloak and lead you to the counter. Jaskier couldn't process that information for a full minute, seeing as you turned from I Hate Everyone on the Whole Fucking World to I Love Chatting, Women and Laughter in a second. Could that mean that you were...

Sure, Jaskier didn't have anything against women loving women or men loving men, but he thought that the rough treatment you were giving him was maybe a really weird way to flirt. Geralt, even if he wasn't flirting with Jaskier, was giving him the same treatment which Jaskier called tough love - Geralt acted like if Jaskier was a pain in his ass, but he secretly took the bard as his best friend. And he thought that maybe you are a similar case since liking Jaskier was not a simple thing to do. 

Obviously, he was wrong. 

As you chat with the two girls, leading all of you to the counter, where a lady in her best years stood, curly hair falling down onto her left shoulder as she gave you a rather seductive look. Jaskier was still in shock and to his own surprise, he was attracted to your behavior around women. But he went with being silent, instead of telling you he smiled at the woman behind the counter.

“Ma’am Rosmerta.” - You greeted the older woman, watching the two girls running off with giggles. You gave her a small bow with a wink, leaning even closer to her. - “Haven't seen you in a while and it is rather pleasant to see you again.”

“My dearest soldier, Y/N, my love. I thought you’ve forgotten about my house and about all of us. You haven't shown in a while, nor you sent a message about your well-being. I was worried.” - The woman walked from behind the counter to give you a long, proper hug. She liked you - you were a woman who was visiting her house recently on the days while you were serving king Foltest and you always showed respect for her and her girls, always leaving a good coin behind you. 

“Long travels away from Temeria, dear Rosmerta. A lot of contracts leading me all over the Continent. You know the rest probably.” - You laughed it off, but Jaskier's mind stopped over a minute ago when Rosmerta called you a soldier. A soldier serving to who exactly? To an enemy or a friend? Should he be worried? Yet, he didn't ask about any of that, listening to your dialogue to know even more things about you.

“How may I help you and this fine young man today, Y/N? I owe you a lot of favors. Just tell me.” - Rosmerta kissed your cheek nonchalantly and you laughed quietly, letting go off her waist. 

“Exactly, that's why I am here. I need a favor from you and your girls. If you want, I will pay you.” - You gave her a smile, whispering every word. Rosmerta nodded and looked around, wawing her palm at you. Both of you followed Rosmerta to her room when you could talk properly in private. 

“Tell me, love, what do you need from me and my lovely whores?” - Rosmerta chcukled ironically. She showed you the room and Jaskier must've said that it was a nice room full of sin. There were pillows covered in satin, aromatic candles, a few bottles of good Temerian wine and a huge bed. Rosmerta wasn't shying away at all. And when she saw Jaskier looking around the room, she even showed a bit more of her cleavage when she sat down in one of the big, plush chairs.

“Are you still sending your girls to the castle on a wagon? You know, that old deal with Foltest - he pays for the girls so his men wouldn't run from the castle to get laid?” - You asked just straight to the point, closing the curtains. The glass was stained and pink, but you didn't want even your silhouettes to be visible.

“I almost forgot that you know everything about the king. You two were a particularly good strategist together, at least before you left. His current ones suck shit if you ask me.” - Rosmerta lightened up a tobacco pipe and laughed coldly. The whores had a particular power in politics - since Rosmerta’s house was the only one in the city, most of the politicians and visitors went there to have fun. Rosmerta knew almost everything about what was happening in the background of the ruling of King Foltest. - “Yes, I still send my girls to the castle and for a good coin and special leniency from the king.” 

Jaskier was invested in the dialogue even if he wasn't talking at all. You were Foltest’s soldier - or at least before you left. That was at least explaining how were you able to snap someone's neck and end it with an elegant roll. Obviously, you've already retired from your service to the king of Temeria.

“Great. I need to speak to Foltest, the faster, the better. He is probably the only one who can help me now.” - You sighed and sat down to the chair opposite of Rosmerta. She offered you her pipe while she took your knee to her palm. Jaskier looked away and took a deep, but a quiet breath in. The situation was just exciting him in all wrong ways. - “What happened, Y/N? You know you can talk to me, love.”

“Someone’s after this idiot. Whoever’s people it is, they're not shying away from the dirtiest assassination methods I've seen in a long time.” - The pipe was on your lips as you slowly inhaled the smoke in. Jaskier also watcher as you lowered your palm on Rosmerta’s, smoothing it probably without even realizing any of it. - “They’ve sent seven men after him. All of them are most probably dead now, but... I feel like this was only the beginning. These weren't the last nor the best one that the someone behind all of this has.”

“I hear you, love.” - Rosmerta kissed your knuckles and nodded, standing up. She trusted you since you knew each other for probably more than five years. You had never lied to her about anything. - “I will send Foltest a letter beforehand so he knew that he should expect both of you with the evening wagon. Until then, one corner on the second floor is all yours, no coin charged for you or your friend the whole day. I will tell Tomira that you're here. Best wine and food on my good behalf.”

With that, the older woman left, still smoking on her pipe with a thoughtful face. Jaskier sat to the chair where she was sitting before a few seconds ago. He looked at you with a furrow, so you gave an annoyed look back. 

“What?” - You mouthed, watching his expression and widened watery eyes.

“You were Foltest’s soldier? You are a woman.” - Jaskier told you and you thought about punching him in his nose. - “Should I be shocked? Wait? Should I check on my pants if I still have a vagina? What the fuck do you want from me, idiot?” - You asked with a cold voice. 

“I didn't mean it like that, and you know it. You women are bloody crazy! You don't even let me talk properly and jump straight to conclusions! Bloody hell!” - Jaskier stood up and threw his hands in the air. As you watched him, something seemed seriously funny about that, so you started to laugh as a lunatic. For a while, Jaskier looked at you, but then he started to laugh as well.

“All right, bard. Maybe, I will tell you something about what you've heard once I take a bath, eat and rest.” - You stood up, ready to leave the room. Oh dear God, you’ve been looking forward to seeing Tomira after such a long time. She looked like a Rusalka - fair skin, hair reaching her waist and huge blue eyes. And you wanted her to bathe you so much it was almost hurting you. But before that, you turned to Jaskier with a slight smile. - “You're doing pretty good. I thought that get to this house will bring far more trouble than it did. Good job.” 

Jaskier watched the door closing behind you. You smiled at him. And praised him for doing the best he could. You were... Maybe even proud? No, you were just glad that you didn't have your ass jailed. That was it. No matter what lead you to praise him, it made him smile.

As Rosmerta told you, the girls truly took good care for the both of you, since you were her guests of honor. She let you take the promised corner on the second floor, gave you the best pillows, fresh grapes and baked chicken from the market along with ale, wine and some girls for both you and Jaskier. Even if you had a girl on your lap, he wasn't able to exactly give his full attention to any of the girls that were trying to occupy him.

You looked like a siren, maybe even something more seductive. You were sitting on one of the pillows in a fresh black shirt and pants with wet hair and burning cheeks. The bard tried desperately not to look at you as the girl fed you with grapes and laughed at your adventurous stories. But when it just wasn't possible to get a hold on anymore, he stood up and started to play loudly. 

At the first moment, it almost looked like you'll stand up and tell him something bad again, which he would greet with grace, but then you looked back at Tomira and let him play. He could yell Toss a Coin to Your Witcher of The Fishmonger’s Daughter for all he wanted and you let him, drowning in the sight of your Rusalka. It got weirdly personal for Jaskier when she leaned to kiss you before leaving to take another plate of grapes. 

“He's sweet. What's his name? Don't you want to leave him with us, Y/N?” - Yolana, another girl who knew you for a long time asked you when you watched Jaskier yelling his ass out. He was funny to you. You looked at her, leaning into your elbow, having a smile on your lips. You raised your eyebrows. - “His name's Jaskier. He's some bard or what. I don't know him. He's just a contract.” 

“You two aren’t here together? I mean... You aren't in any kind of relationship?” - She smoothed your hair without putting too much thought of it. - “If you want to call me protecting his ass a relationship, go on. I won't be stopping you.” - You giggled and took another sip of water. Tomira tried to make you drunk, but you knew your limits well. - “Why?”

“Eh... It's probably nothing. Don't think about it too much, alright?” - Yolana smiled at you and almost left, but you caught her palm and kissed the inside of it, staring into her green eyes. Temerian women were simply beautiful. That was your way of making Yolana talk. 

“I don't know. He didn't want me nor he touched my body, he barely noticed me, Y/N. When I asked why - he just... Quickly looked at you and stuttered something out. There's something going on. I can feel it.” - Yolana whispered and you chuckled as your fingers entwined for a moment. - “Bullshit, Yolana. That man is fucking terrified of me.” 

That was the moment when you felt hands on your waist and lips on your neck and the way they smoothed over your skin. Tomira was back. - “Come to bed. You're here after such a long time and I'm not sure if I'll ever see you again.” - She cried to your neck quietly. You smiled sadly and smoother her thigh, taking her leg off your hip. You could have her on your bed just like that. A word was all she needed. Yet, you didn't do anything. You didn't accept her offer, instead you left the whorehouse two hours later. The ladies got you some dress. To say you were uncomfortable was on point. How must've Jaskier felt?

He had dress on as well, they even did him some good make-up and gave him a wig. He looked just hilarious. Just as Rosmerta promised, she sent you with the first wagon to the palace.

"Ey, some girls, finally. I can't even see how horny I am, mate!" - One of the guards let out a comment as soon as the horses stopped behind the king's residence gate. Sweet offer, yet you weren't there to suck cocks and to be fucked. You gladly let the opportunity to others. - "Oy, two girls for Foltest boy himself, huh? Where are the lucky ones?" - He shoved his head inside and you greeted him with a deadly stare and you middle finger risen up.

"So Foltest is into some tough ones, oy? Funny. And... Are ya even a girl?" - One of the guards poked to Jaskier as soon as you both got off. You took the guard's chunky face to your fingers, turning his look to your eyes instead of your cleavage.

"One more rude comment to her and I'll kick your balls so hard, that you won't have children. Ever. Are we clear?" - You hissed, clearly not backing off. Your years in the service taught you how to be tough. Men like this were no fucking problem for you. He got pretty sweaty and nodded rather quickly. You let his face go and patted his cheek, further asserting your dominance. - "Take us to the king. And remember what I've told you."

Without any other unnecessary talking, the guard led you though the servant's quarters and though the rather unknown rooms of the palace. It still looked as presentable as back in your days. You stopped in king's secret chamber, where the guard bowed to you as politely as he was able to at at his drunk state. Then he left without a word. Much to his wonder, Jaskier couldn't let his eyes off you. He was bullying him, almost revealed him in front of everyone and if weren't for you, Jaskier wouldn't be able to defend himself.

You saved his ass. No matter if you had to or not, that was just brave in Jaskier's eyes. You both sat there in silence, at least until the doorknob moved and other hidden door opened up.

A rather handsome, tall and pretty strong man entered the room. He was dressed as a noble, his clothes were tailored to suit his body and were made of the most luxurious materials. He had fair hair and blue eyes, a nose of an eagle, since it was visibly at least once broken. To that was king Foltest of Temeria, Jaskier wondered.

In a minute, there was no sign of the tough, aggressive and dominant you - you knelt down on one knee, put one of your hands on your heart and bowed deeply to the man. Jaskier did something that could be barely a bow, but he tried his best to not killing himself in that gown girls have him. He looked so funny that even the king chuckled.

"Stop with the formal theatrics, will you, Y/N?" - Foltest smiled at you and offered you a palm, which you caught. Jaskier's jaw nearly dropped, when you kissed it with grace and looked at your king.

"It's so relieving to see you, my king." - You stood up with a smile. Foltest gave you a bow as well, introducing himself to the bard behind you.

"Pleasure is on my side today just as luck and destiny is, soldier. So, what's ailing you, will you tell me?"

[endless-array-of-tom]

Twisted Fate (2/2) [loki x reader]

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Request: Can I request 12 on fluff/general “how did you get in here?” For Loki and it’s like him coming back to the reader after having left her and it’s been the first tie they’ve seen each other in like 5 years or something. When he gets in the house he sees that she has a child who is his.

Prompt: “How did you get in here?”

Word Count: 3,513

Part 2/2

Click here for Part 1

A/n: I had a lot of trouble trying to make a “read more” break but I finally gave up ‘cause I don’t have a clue on how to do it. If you have idea on how to do it (or make a functioning mobile masterlist & add a link to bio from mobile) PLEASE help me out!! On the other hand I want to apologize for being so late with the next part, but I still hope you all enjoy it!!

“Mommy! Can I have cookie dough?” A young boy, no older than six begged his mother as he yanked his mother’s blouse desperately. His sapphire eyes glowed brightly as they brimmed with fake-tears, completing what was called the “puppy-dog” look.

His mother sighed as she kneeled down, ruffling his raven-black hair mercilessly, grinning widely. “I guess you can, but what about me? What flavor do you think mommy would like today?” The young boy gasped in shock, before staring at the menu in thought.

“How about… (f/f)? You seem to like that one a lot…” he suggested as he somehow managed to climb up his mother and tug her shoulders for support (expectedly).

“I think you’re right, Jay.” His mother smiled as she made her way up to the front, placing her order in…

__

“Here you go, there’s your ice-cream. Now let’s go home, and remember to eat it quickly— it’s going to melt all in your hands if you don’t.” The boy eagerly nodded as he pushed the glass doors wide open, walking down the streets and enjoying his ice-cream in his hands.

The mother laughed as she watched her son pounce around any nearby pigeons, watching them flee made her son laugh happily as he continued his way home. She took a bite out of her own ice-cream as thoughts began to drown her mind, not enough to lose sight of where Jay was going though.

Five years. It had really been five years since he left, without a word nor a trace of where he could possibly be. In the beginning, she was an absolute wreck— crying almost every day and pleading to herself that’ll she’ll see him march right through her doors and apologize to her, accepting both her and their baby. But he didn’t. Not once in five years…

She asked frequently to Thor where his brother would be, but he also had no idea himself where Loki was located. But that didn’t stop her. As she was in her seventh month of pregnancy she gave up on the possibility of Loki ever arriving again, and then the thoughts swelled in: if he wasn’t going be in the picture she would damn make sure she was.

And from there it began; torturous hours of being in labor and delivering a son that became the best (lovable/charitable) person in her life. Thor, accompanying her through most steps of the way had helped name her child…

Jay(lin) Cuyler (L/N).

Jaylin, meaning “the beautiful (blue) jaybird.” Symbolizing that he would grow up to be an intelligent and determined young lad, who’s both fearless and well-protected by the people surrounding him (and vice versa), and full of truthfulness.

Cuyler, was given to him by her family, meaning “strong man.” The dualism was that in Norse it had also meant “archer/bowman,” which could tie into him being incredibly keen and impeccable vision.

Her last name was respectively placed as her son’s last name, due to the fact that she wasn’t too sure how good it would be to have her father’s name there, nor how much he would like it. Besides that, she didn’t think people would be incredibly accepting to know his name was “Lokison,” though to be frank, she couldn’t give a damn about other’s people views of hers, what simply mattered was how Jay was going to have health with it; therefore, she decided to lay it off and not tell him until he was possibly much older.

As they made their way through the cobblestone path, (Y/N) dismissed her thoughts to see her son jump on every big stone in his path, mimicking the god of thunder as he waved his hands through the air, a stick firmly held.

“I am Thor, son of Odin. And I will bring lightning down and scary storms if you don’t listen to me!” He taunted to a squirrel, amazed at how the animal didn’t budge, he pressed on. “You shall then face the mighty wrath of me… don’t say I didn’t warn you…” (Y/N) stifled a laugh as she prepared on what was to happen, seeing her son bang the stick on the ground as he screamed the highest and loudest he’s ever in his entire life.

The squirrel soon reacted, grabbing its acorn and sprinting away deeper into the woods. “Ha! I won, no one is matched for me!” (Y/N) laughed again as she crept closer to her son slowly, careful not to step on a dry twig.

If only Thor could see this… she thought. I would be incredibly insulted, and pleased. Her arms then latched onto the young boy, grabbing him and bringing him up into the air, cautiously swinging him around as she tickled him.

“N-no w-wait-t! M-mom! S-s-to-op it!” Her son cried terribly as a series of giggles echoed through the forest. She soon halted her actions, settling him back down onto the ground. Her son pouted, giving her a very mad look.

“I told you to stop, that wasn’t nice.”

“Well… I did, didn’t I? It just took a tad bit longer than you expected it to be.” She smiled mischievously in response, extending her arm out.

“C’mon, let’s get you back home— we don’t want it to get dark before we arrive now do we?”

The young boy shook his head before springing back into action and running through the path all the way to their home in the woods.

When Jay was born, (Y/N) is certain when she said she had no idea what to do. She mapped out a general idea of how to prepare, read books and articles of becoming a mother, and begged her friends around to help guide her along the way for moral support.

Looking back, she would’ve laughed at the thought of panicking as much as she did— though she couldn’t blame herself for worrying.

Over the years Jay had grown up to become a very handsome young boy. He looked almost an exact replica of Loki, his shimmering personality didn’t help one bit either… In school, all the girls in his class made sure to greet him in the morning and in the afternoon, but Jay didn’t really spare them a glance at that, his primary goal was to get to the LEGOs and play with the other boys before class began.

One thing had started… that (Y/N) had noticed. At night, Jay had begun to get a lot more nightmares— waking up in a cold sweat, but that wasn’t the biggest issue. The truth was, Jay was still half of his father, which meant he was half-frost giant.

Certain times through the night when she checked upon him, his hand would be blue. Next, his arm, sometimes he legs— but never a full-body transformation. (Y/N) wasn’t scared of the fact that he had adopted that gene of being a frost-giant because it wasn’t disgusting at all… really, the ability was remarkable.

But there was a possibility that Jay would one day wake up and see it, and she wasn’t exactly sure how to prepare herself and tell him. Mind the fact, Jay was incredibly scared of monsters, he was… Dinosaurs were neat, but monsters he’d heard of and seen in his books weren’t. And she didn’t want her kid, either to wake up and one day sees it, or someone else. And then they call him a monster.

(Y/N) had grown extremely protective of her son, though she tends to deny it. She wasn’t going to let any punk tell her son he was a monster, because he was far from that.

(Y/N) opened the door as the keys rattled in reply, settling her things down on the counter.

“Jay, why don’t you go run and grab some new clothes for you to change into after you shower? You’re covered with mud,” she suggested, watching as her son eagerly nodded and headed out the kitchen.

What she didn’t expect, was to hear him call out to her.

“Mom?” He asked except she could hear the worry laced in his voice as he called out her name as he called her again…

___ __ A Little Bit Before __ ___

“Jay, why don’t you go run and grab some new clothes for you to change into after you shower? You’re covered with mud,” (Y/N) suggested, the little boy eagerly nodding his head and heading out the door that separated the kitchen from the living room.

As little Jay hummed a tune to himself and skipped across the floor, as he reached the stairs he came to an abrupt stop. His humming died as he whipped his head around, his eyes darting to the figure sitting down on his couch nervously, staring at him; the stranger’s blue eyes staring into his; the man almost looked exactly liked him, except much older.

“Mom?” Jay cried out, scared, as he held onto the stick still in his grasp. His eyes widened as the man seemed to get the hint that he was terrified, and stood up silently, raising his pointer finger to his mouth, and making a small “shush” sound. This, aggravated the little boy more as he scurried near the kitchen door again, calling out for his mother once more. If they hadn’t met on such terms, Jay had a feeling he would’ve really liked the man, but that wasn’t the time.

Jay heard the door swing open and watched his mother rush in, panicked.

“Jay? What’s going on—“ she stopped as she saw the stranger, her eyes widening in surprise. She gulped as she saw the man before them, instinctively grabbing her son’s hand and gently tugging him near her. Crouching down, she ruffled her son’s hair again, seeing his nose crinkle at her actions.

“Honey, I want you to go upstairs and go play with your toys for now, okay? Mommy will be up there, soon.” Jay titled his head to the side in confusion, before gesturing to his dirtied attire.

“But mom, my clothes—“

“Don’t worry about it, okay? Just go and do what I told you to do,” she spoke out, embracing her son. “But make sure, to lock the door.” She whispered to him, his eyes widened as he nodded in response, making his way up the stairs and to his room.

“I love you!” (Y/N) called out, hearing her son soon reply with the same words made her heart swell. As she heard the faint sound of the door closing, her eyes narrowed at the man in front of her.

“How did you get in here?” She questioned quite aggressively as she saw him move from his position, aligning himself across from her as he gazed at her sorrowfully.

“The backdoor was open…”

“Don’t give me that, Loki. I know it wasn’t opened.” She retorted, watching as he brought a hand up to his face, pushing the loose strands of hair back. “Then you already know the answer of how I got in, now I wish to know this… is that my son?”

(Y/N)’s heart dropped at his words, she didn’t know how to reply. Of course, the child was his, but what if he came here for the child? To take him? (Y/N) would certainly lose her sanity, at least the very left she’d been desperately attempting to cling onto, the sanity only being near her son could give her.

“Yes. Why do you wish to know?” She dragged out, watching his every move; as he leaned forward, she stepped back. “He’s a bright young man, clever too.” He complimented, taking another step towards her, watching her reaction.

“I know, no help from you,” she sarcastically remarked, trying to keep her cool in that very moment, afraid what would happen if he found out just how frightened she was on the outside. She took another step back, her hands behind her back in an attempt to hide them from him— her trembling hands.

“I just want to talk, (Y/N). To apologize,” Loki uttered out, taking another giant advance towards her.

“No,” she spoke out. “You had five years to come and talk, to apologize, but you didn’t… what do you really want, Loki? Just what are you doing here?”

Loki gulped, and for the first time… looked stumped. Completely surprised, and guilty. (Y/N) could see it, it was written all over his face, but she wasn’t going to trust it immediately, in case he had other intentions of showing up unexpectedly.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing, to see my son and how he was… and to apologize for everything. Truly.” She stopped stepping backward and took a good long look at him; he looked spent.

He was still devilishly handsome, there was no doubt about it, but it looked like his face had slightly sunken in, the bags under his eyes were heavily noticeable, and his hair wasn’t slicked back and taken care of as he usually had it. To be honest, he looked like a hot mess.

“Sit down at the couch, say what you have to say with me, and then leave.” She declared, knowing that some of the words stung him hard. He complied without any complaints, slowly placing himself on the couch with his hands up in the air, before gesturing to the space on the opposite couch across from him.

(Y/N) nodded as she did the same, placing her hands in her lap.

“Now, what do you want to say to me?”

“I apologize,” he said.

“You’ve already said that, what else?”

“I want to say I’m sorry I’ve betrayed you, to the both of you. I really am. Five years ago, I lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and it was all because I was afraid…”

Soon, Loki’s last words (five years ago) echoed through your mind. “I won’t fuck up my child’s life with me being in the picture…”

“At that point in time, I wasn’t ready… and it wasn’t the fact of being scared of what I created, but having to raise it being the person I am. Love,” he croaked out, staring into your bright irises, before turning away to stare at the floor beneath him. “You don’t know the things I’ve done, not even a portion of the terrible crimes I’ve committed… what’s worse, is for some of them… I enjoyed it.”

“The point is… what would happen if he found out who I was? All that I’ve done? And what would everyone else think? He’d be accused of unspeakable things, let alone things he never once dreamt about—“

“So removing yourself from the picture helped?” She mustered out, seeing as his eyes found hers again in a state of panic.

“No—“

“Because it didn’t. Loki, it tore me apart. Jay doesn’t talk about it, but he wants a father, he’s curious, Loki. He needs a father, and I can tell you he couldn’t care who it was! Just someone who’d be there for him through thick-and-thin, and bring him up when he falls! Loki! How long do you think he’ll go on before he realizes and asks who his father is? How mad do you think he’d be if he found out not only who you were, but how you left. Loki. He’s a smart boy, even if I didn’t tell him, he’d piece together it all, and he’d be broken too.”

Loki flinched at her words, hearing the words echo within him.

He’d be broken too. Too.

She was broken too. Much more than she let on… he knew it. But the words dripping from her lips made it much worse, it stung. Badly. So bad he didn’t know what to do— he didn’t know what to say; he couldn’t reassure her, he already overstepped his boundaries by entering her life out of the blue.

Tears filled his vision without him knowing, as he stood up from his seat, ignoring her worried-look.

“I guess in the end… I fucked up my child’s life… even with me not being in the picture.” He said, trying his best to play it off as a joke and chuckle in the end, but all he saw was her vision becoming teary as well. “Not only that, I screwed up the life of the person I love most. No matter what I do, I screw everything up, don’t I?” Loki kneeled down and wiped the tears from his love’s eyes, giving her a small smile.

“(Y/N). I’m sorry, for everything. You don’t have to forgive me, and if you never will, I can accept that. If you don’t want to ever see me again, I can manage it. After all, you’ve gotten along so well without me, both you and Jay will find happiness, whether with or without me. I don’t deserve any of this, anything… really. But I want to tell you all of this before regret eats me alive, and I know it isn’t fair to you… which is why I leave you with the option…”

“Do you want me to leave?”

(Y/N) felt as if her whole world had collapsed again, her heart shattering again. And she didn’t know why.

She shouldn’t be this sad, feel this empty at this moment. She shouldn’t be wanted to grab him and never let go, to desperately feel his embrace again, or to hear him laugh and he smiles brightly.

She was strong, she’s been this strong, for years… she didn’t need a man in her life to make her feel complete, for years…

So why?

Why did she want him to be in the picture?

He left. He deserted her and left her. Her and her son. For years, without a trace, a hint, or even a gesture to say the things unsaid for so long. He loves her. He didn’t say it past tense, he still meant it, he meant every word.

She knew him, his words weren’t empty— they were true. And almost every thought in her mind told her to reject him, to let him rot for the actions he’s done so long ago…

But her heart ached, for so long. And seeing him suddenly appear out of thin air, caused all of her walls to crumble down within a matter of minutes. Maybe even seconds….

She couldn’t believe it after all this time— she still loves him.

Even with all his mistakes, from all of his words, she forgave him so easily, just him returning back— she’d already forgiven him.

Forgiveness is the final form of love.

More tears streamed down her face and she held onto his shirt carelessly, tucking her head into his chest as she shook it furiously.

“N-no,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to leave, even after everything. I should hate you, you know. I shouldn’t even want to see you ever again after what you’ve done…”

Loki’s heartstrings tugged.

“But no matter what you’ve done, I can’t do that. I can’t ever do that to you, Loki. I love you too.” She mustered out, before going limp into his arms as she continued to cry, Loki quickly rubbing soothing circles on her back as he enveloped her fully, muttering all types of “thank you”s to her as she calmed down.

Loki knew it would be a challenge, to confess his apologizes, and see her reaction. He also knew she wouldn’t be open to suddenly returning to the relationship they had five years ago, she needed time to not only forgive him, but he needed time to be able to appreciate all of her, and Jay.

He’d need to earn her love and respect for him again and develop an entirely new one with Jay. But right now, it was unspeakably going to be worth it. Every ounce of energy was going to be dedicated to being devoted to both the loves of his life. Besides, if her words of still loving him were true, then perhaps he still had a fighting chance. Not to restart, but to continue forward…

_____

(Y/N) had disappeared for a bit after their little make-up session, her exact whereabouts unknown to him. All he knew was that she was somewhere upstairs… she could be telling his brother to come and kill him for all he knew.

His thoughts were soon interrupted as he heard her walk down the stairs, and a nervous smile plastered among her face. He watched her peculiarly as she gave him one last promising look, and moving out of the way to reveal their son.

For a second, his breath was gone— sucked out of him. He looked so much like him, like her as well, it was miraculous.

The young boy waddled his way over to him, afraid and holding onto his mother’s hand tightly.

“Jay... I want you to meet— your father.” The boy’s eyes widened at her statement.

“D-dad…?”

Tags:

@jessiejunebug

@hellethil

@atomiczineprofessoroperator

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #297

“crushed, damned, and broken; lost, sick, and left unspoken.”

When was the last time you did clay work/pottery? Not since high school when I made an anatomically correct heart. Do you like art, hate it or just not mind it? I adore it. Is crime a big problem in your area? Oh yes. What's the scariest story/urban legend/creepypasta etc you heard? Maaaan, as a cryptic fanatic, that's hard. Maybe the Rake. What personality trait does nearly everyone in your family seem to have? We're some resilient motherfuckers. What is your favorite soda? Well, it's technically strawberry Sunkist, but I do NOT let myself have it because I will fucking chug it and binge on them if available to me. So, I just consider Mountain Dew Voltage my fave. When you're on the beach, do you throw beached sea creatures back? I've never even seen a beached animal. I would, though. Have you ever thrown food at someone? Yeah, small food fights as a kid or joking with a friend. Have you ever been to a bonfire? Yeah. Do you like orangutans? I love them; such fascinating, enchanting animals that act more human than people half the time. When you see a bug flipped on his back, what do you do? It depends on what it is, but I usually try to help it. Is cereal good? Yeah, I love cereal. Do you like spaghetti? Love it. It was my favorite food as a kid. Is there any kind of weapon in your bedroom? No. Do you like snow globes? I love 'em! Be honest, did Fifty Shades of Grey arouse you in any way? I didn't read it and never will. What does your sibling(s) call you? "Britt" or "(little/big) sister." Do you have any close friends that are the opposite sex that your significant other dislikes? N/A Do you honestly believe everything happens for a reason? Why or why not? Nope, because I want you to explain to me why a child dies of cancer. Why the 11-year-old was raped and forced to bear the child. Why a partner is beaten to death by their s/o, etc. etc. Things just... happen. Do you believe in reincarnation? Why or why not? No, mostly; I DO kinda wonder about it, I just find it unlikely. It would be kinda poetic, though: being given the chance to experience so many unique things. But, I kinda want a conclusion to my mortal life. The Hunger Games or The Maze Runner? I read the first HG and loved it; I started the latter novel while I was in the psych hospital for a while, but I never finished it or got that far in. It did sound pretty good, though. Has anyone you’ve known claimed to be psychic? Well, they believe(d) in tarot readings; does that count? Idk. Did/do you believe them? I wouldn't. Is anything annoying you right now? "Annoyed" is a fucking understatement when it comes to what transpired at the capitol a few days back. Have you ever been ice-skating? No. Does the sound of rain at night help you sleep? It can, depending on how heavy it is. Have you ever seen an albino person, in person? Albino, no, but I knew a guy and his sister in high school who had vitiligo. Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? Yeah, at the ER and hospital. Have you ever walked into a massive cobweb? I don't believe so. What would you say is your strongest felt emotion right now? Rage. I'm not over "the event." I'm just tired of humanity. Are you talking to anyone at the moment? No. Do you have trust issues? Oh yes. Have you ever found an arrow head? No. Who is with you? My mom's home. What can you not stop thinking about? *points upwards* Then there's Jason because PTSD, that's very normal. Do you forgive easily? I forgive very easily, honestly. In what part of your life so far, have you learned the most about yourself? 2017, when recovery began. I think... or maybe 2018, idk. I've truly come to discover myself quite a lot the past few years. Have you ever been in a fist fight? No. Are your ears pierced? Yeah: my earlobes twice, and then my right tragus has a stud. I want to get my others back... I had to take them all out in the psych hospital, and a lot of my piercings closed up. The only one I don't wanna re-do is my anti-tragus, because mine was *always* inflammed and aggravated. What did you last say out loud? "Okay" to Mom. What are you waiting on? Right now, an opportunity to go to the parlor I'm getting my tat tidied up at to get a price range on it. They just need to be open while we're out of the house. Do you tell people when they get on your nerves? Not really. Are your feelings hurt easily? Yep. What's the most expensive piece of clothing you have? Did you buy it yourself? I dunno... I very rarely get new clothes, nevermind expensive ones. Who is your closest platonic friend of the opposite sex? His nickname is Girt. He's been my best male friend since high school; we even hang out sometimes, but it's been a long while. How do you think your first relationship shaped who you are as a partner now? As a partner, it taught me to not fall head over heels and love more realistically and in a healthy fashion. I don't put my faith solely into them, but myself, too. I also accept "forever" is not always true just because they promise it. Who is your favorite protagonist of the same sex? Oh god, this is hard. I suppose maybe Tyrande Whisperwind from WoW. I love her dedication to her people and that her story has become more interesting in her finally "breaking." I could list so, so many "faves," tbh. Were you popular in high school? What was your reputation like? No; I was just the average teen. Have you always known your sexual orientation or did something happen to make you realize it? Somethings happened. There were a lot of hints building up before I even began to consider the possibility, but a daydream solidified it as fact. What was the hardest part of your last break up? Realizing I still wasn't "ready" or "fit" for a successful relationship. What brought you out of the hardest period in your life? As strange as it sounds, my suicide attempt put it into action. I was obviously hospitalized for a while, and then I was brought into a month-long partial hospitalization program that has a fucking genius psychiatrist, and I also had daily therapy as long as school days during the week. It was the intense help I needed. What's your favorite kind of smiley face? (: Does anybody know your deepest darkest secret? My old therapist and maybe my mom; I can't remember if I told her. Did you ever watch Rugrats? (the babies) I LOVED that show! I even had two of the video games. What about Hey Arnold? Ugh, I hated it, but I think my little sister did, or we just watched it if we couldn't find anything else. Do you like pep rallies? NO. NO. NO. My teachers always understood that they really stoked my anxiety and allowed me to opt out of going. I'd just stay in the classroom and read or something. Have you ever had pneumonia? No. What do you feel about surgeries? Do they worry you? I fear anesthesia awareness, but not to a debilitating degree or anything that makes me panic beforehand or anything like that. Do you play Minecraft? if so, feelings about servers? Never have, and not interested. Do you read creepypastas? Nah. Do you think vlogging in public is scary? It seems awkward as FUCK to me. Even alone. Have you been to an escape room? Was it a success? No. What social class would you say you're in? I think we're actually near the poverty line (or were, idk anymore, Mom slipped it before), so definitely lower. Have you ever recorded a cover of a song? No. How do you feel about guns? They scare me. What's the most traumatizing event that ever happened to you? A very abrupt and poorly-executed breakup while being madly in love to the point of obsession with the person. Are you faint to the sight of blood? No. Do you like spicy food? Yes. Do you have good dreams or nightmares more? Well, considering I was woken up by myself shrieking my lungs out this morning, guess. It seemed for a little bit that my nightmares were chilling out, but I guess not. When was the last time someone insulted you? What was the insult? Does my mother telling me I'm saying too many "f-bombs" count? I dunno otherwise. What’s your second favorite color? Maroon. Do you ever wish you lived in a different country? Hey Canada, mind adopting me? Who’s the last person you “pounded” fists with? Ha, I think my nephew. Have you ever been involved in an affair? No. Wait, maybe? Does the Joel thing count? We never even physically met each other, we were just being idiot kids flirting over text messages. You be the judge, ig. How many times a week do you speak to your boss? I don’t have a job. What do you want for your birthday? Just donate to my tattoo fund lmao. Having to get my laptop fixed fucked up my plans yet again... Have you ever been to a masquerade? No. Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? A handful, yeah. Who in your phone has a heart after their name? Just Sara does. Anything you’re avoiding? Always. After breaking up, what’s the worst? Letting go if you're the one who still has feelings. Does your sibling have a significant other? I don't know if my brother does, or the half-sister I've never met. Another sister is engaged, and two are married. Nicole is single, though. She's smart as hell about who she dates; she's probably pickier than me. Do you use Skype? Just to talk with Sara. Are you a fan of acrylic nails? I wouldn't wear them, but they look fine on some people. Except when they're square shaped. Name one happy song that describes you better than any other. "Get Up" by Mother Mother comes to me first. Name one sad/mellow song that describes you better than any other. Haha I connect with a lot of sad songs and would honestly rather not dig through 'em right now. What is your most used pick up line? None, they're all awful. Do you like the taste of alcohol? Noooooo no no. The only alcoholic drinks I like are very weak and sweet. What kinds of food make you sick? So this probably sounds so stupid, but "fancy" foods, like stuff with a lot of ingredients my body isn't used to, I guess. My stomach is very finicky with foods, so it's easy to make this list.