#started with a different topic and finishing with another - nothing new - we shall see how it will go with religious matter

[fewsystemsinonebody]

We don't have OSDD? We all agree with each other? Right...

Last evening:

Why (name of an alter as a reminder) fronted and told us he won't write our story because it's shitty. Thanks a lot - not that our host cared. He gave many reasons though. Some of them were the facts he hates love. Doesn't believe it is one thing but also throws up just thinking about it as it's toxic, evil bullshit that traumatises people so we should write more realistically ending everything with suffering or even death. He also mentioned that God never listened to us - worse - he actually took our asks and twisted them. If we would ask for a cupcake he would give us... but a poisoned one...

Host fronted considering his words. We always had beef with God. We indeed believed in him but we were mad he won't help people and that his plan is basically shitty in our opinion so we were mostly scared to pray anymore knowing he will do the opposite. Lessons? Would need to help instead of leading to finding out we don't deserve anything good apparently and have to avoid people while our life is crashing down around us. Obviously host was all about "if a kid is kidnapped, raped and murdered then what does it teach that kid?" The answer is obvious. Nothing. It can probably go to heaven after being a martyr but that's it. Host says she is going to hell and there's nothing she can do about it as she doesn't even want to meet God and all the forgiven pieces of shit she used to know.

But there's Greg. The only religious alter we have that is coming back from dormancy no matter how many times we think it's the last time wanting him gone. We once made a God out of him asking him constantly if something is morally right then being mad at him for judging us as he's no better. We overthinked so much we almost puked as our head was hurting way too much and often considering we actually could one sentence analise for straight three days without more than a few hours of sleep each night. We got better but after he was gone. Were we fair? No. But we also were mad at him obviously especially when he told his own husband he forgives him for his past. He had no rights to do so. It never hurt him and he's not a priest. Maylo also came back after over a year of being gone. We call him saint Maylo as he had some sort of function of creating everything like God himself but he was only mirroring our trauma inward symbolically like he's writing a book. That was our idea of processing trauma when we started officially fronting instead of taking it inward far away from host. He was mad at himself for inventing such a thing as it was punishing us now more than helped. He felt at fault of our pseudomemories and himself ignoring that for awhile to not mendle with rules to not fuck it up even more. He tried to and it didn't end up well us brain not only got used to how it worked - it actually decided he will deepen the trauma and self harm this way turning Maylo's idea upside down basically... So we called jokingly Maylo a demigod because he doesn't create bad situations in real life - just tries to do something with it inside. Still Greg tried to explain God's plan basing on Maylo's doings. I don't remember it word for word so I won't even try to write it down in here but the point is... host kinda believed it first time in ages. She was of course not convinced 100% as she is not only stubborn but also scared to trust which she was asking us if that's ok or makes her a bad person... as usual. She is so worried she might be it takes away half of every day for her to calm her down she's good. Greg was telling her how amazing she is everyday and how well she's doing towards parents even though intrusive thoughts try to tell me now she's not obviously to stear drama. We will ignore it as much as we can. She cried and went to hug mom telling her she's happy for mom's existence. Sure. Mom's abusive/toxic but has her good moments. Mom said the same back in the darkness of home at night.

Lu fronted and was grumpy then started to break down. We rarely see him in such state. He can complain about himself being a bad guy but never to the point of shaking like a chihuahua. This time it was different. He was convinced that if we stayed then we will take host to hell as he is not going to believe like her. So asked her to get rid of us. Greg first joked about staying with host just the two of them but then saw that situation is serious. Host said that she's going to keep us no matter what adding that maybe she will go to heaven and they won't but right now she prefers to have us, those who actively help her and are there for her everyday, even if it would lead her to hell. She hugged Lu, Lio and Pink but Greg was already worried that he's the cause of this mess all over again... and said he will go dormant himself.

Then this happened...

Brie - his husband, the guy who was arguing with him to the point of hate but also loving him at the same time, fell on his knees begging Greg to stay. Only one time in his entire life he did that before towards someone else which wasn't a good idea but that's a story for another time. He was kneeling on verge of tears, vulnerable as fuck, Greg in shock so his natural hyena instinct made him joke about it as well to lighten the atmosphere:

So you're going to become religious?

Yes - Brie said.

You have no idea how big of a confession that was coming out from Brie's mouth. He's the LEAST religious alter among us. The proud one. Alter who will build walls around himself to protect his heart. A lot of people are actually afraid of him while he won't say anything else but somebody's name in THAT tone. He basically never say any nasty words and yet he can stab you emotionally with his snarky remarks.

And he's kneeling in front of his husband saying he will believe in God just for Greg to stay and not do it to him for the... fourth time maybe?

Greg kneels in front of him taking him in his arms and says:

This isn't you. I don't want you to be someone else.

Basically the same words Brie told him earlier about not wanting Greg to change when he was worrying that he is choosing God over Brie wanting to leave. Acceptance. I do remember what April recently says what love means to him when Ursus asked having no idea how it is no matter of having the same thoughts and memories as others as we share our brain. We were mistaken many times before on the topic going deeper and deeper with the meaning and feelings - first with second ex then with each other when she was gone. We are aware that even though we loved before it wasn't good. Sometimes it was too obsessive, too idealistic, too flat, too toxic, too childish, too fresh to call love and so on but I wish April actually made a post about what he said as I am unable to do that myself not being the one who ever experienced this. So many times we hear people being stuck in relationships that are so bad that they even complain about them themself yet refuse to leave out of many reasons. Are we perfect? Absolutely not. Even April himself was saying to Jerry he doesn't love him anymore like minutes ago after haha but they are still together to this day. We are constantly bickering, leaving, pushing each other away, doubting them or ourselves because we're broken but we always can discuss things (or eventually break up of course) which was never an element we could have with people in real life. We were always alone with all that. We couldn't ask, inform, observe, beg for them to stop and change, even escape - we were trapped with somebody unwilling to talk things through when we need shitload of that. No manipulation but reassurment that isn't just words but actions. We support each other, get to know each other and we fight for each other even if with each other as well and that... that never was part of our real life before when it comes to lovers so I suppose Why is right about one thing - we aren't meant to be with somebody. Maybe he's right that we're a burden, we're hard to deal with, we need a savior that is more healthy than us even if we support them a lot (actually usually we've supported someone more than they supported us). That's ok. We can deal with shit alone... actually together.

Seeing Brie laying in arms of Greg that night was everything. He almost never sleeps. He has insomnia. He looked at Greg breathing deeply - thunder in his chest - snoring a bit maybe. His beard, big hands and soft belly. I am convinced that people we've met didn't know about love much. Maybe it was lack of experience as we were the same but they also seemed too egoistic, too focused on themselves, too needy harming us to feel love. To be able and have a right to receive ours. Calling it dopamine, adrenaline, attention when they were bored. Nah. We are so much deeper than that. Sorry to say that as it's only part of memories of others but... sex is indeed mechanical when you feel forced, not appreciated, unsure of somebody but when you went with them through hell and back, you know every inch of their mind and not just body, you can trust them fully then you can truly fall for them, with them, after them and it's no longer like an addiction, drugs, being high - it's connection that makes you neither dominant nor submissive - your theirs and they are yours but not as belongings, toys or something of the sort - you just become whole without losing yourself completely in a bad way so you also stay whole individual person yourself because you finally can be yourself around someone even if there are moments you have to compromise and stop yourself to not hurt them. It's so complicated, complex actually, that nothing can describe the feeling of truly loving someone...

Bartek

edited

I don't feel pressure from Greg to believe nor being stopped by others to not. I just... am open and don't wanna think about it even if it's not enough for God. Maybe Greg's right, maybe not, I don't know that. I don't wanna be wrong so I won't have an opinion fully formed myself. I'm glad we have a part that is a believer and also one that's not. What matters is we're trying to be good people :D

host

[sweetlymawd]

Refusal to Change, Part One

H4nk deals with the consequences of his new lifestyle. Or doesn’t.

(To anyone first dropping in, this is the beginning of the end. Please please PLEASE start with No Escape so you know what’s going on.)

(Also, there’s heavy topics ahead. Just so you know.)

<- First (No Escape)

<- Previous (Secretive)

Next (Refusal to Change, Part Two) ->

He was having the best time since forever. H4nk was laying on a soft marshmallow, letting himself be fed the largest, most delicious desserts. Each one was given to him by the clown, who praised him after every treat devoured. He was so full and absolutely ginormous, but he didn't care. It all felt amazing.

"H444NK... WANT ANOTHER CAKE? IT'S YUMMY..."

Another whole cake was fed to him, H4nk savoring every bite. Once he was done, Tr1cky began rubbing his tummy.

"OH, H4NKY... YOU'RE SO ROUND... SO SOFT..."

H4nk belched. Tr1cky giggled, leaning in close.

"...THE CUTEST THING EVER..."

They shared a long, deep kiss. Tr1cky tasted like chocolate. It was making H4nk hungry again. Once they pulled away, his stomach rumbled again.

“STILL HUNGRY, H4NKY? YOU WANT A COOKIE?”

Damn it, why did Tr1cky have to be so cute? H4nk agreed to the cookie. But right when he finished it, he suddenly hugged his feeder. Tr1cky sunk into H4nk’s softness, nuzzling him and giggling.

“HEHEHEHE… SOFTIE…”

That was it. H4nk was starving. His mouth was wide open, soon to devour his cute little clown. He shoved him in, and……

~~~

“H4NK! H4NK, WAKE UP NOW!”

It was D0c’s voice. H4nk’s eyes opened to see D0c staring down at him, with S4nf0rd and D31m0s sitting behind him. Even through his mask, he could tell that D0c was unhappy. Also, was he just tired, or did he look… different?

“…What is it?” H4nk asked sleepily.

“I see you’ve still been gorging yourself, huh? How’s that going?”

H4nk slowly sat up. “It’s been fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Uh huh. How about we do a weigh-in, just to check?”

“Sure.”

H4nk slowly got up off the couch, D0c leading him towards the scale in the bathroom. He helped him remove his gear, stripping him down to his pants, then H4nk stepped on the scale. Of course, he still couldn’t see past his gut.

“What’s it say?”

Nothing could have prepared him for what D0c said next.

“‘Weight Limit Exceeded’. As I thought.”

H4nk stepped off the scale. He looked down at himself. Then in the mirror. He saw all his flab that he had gained in just a few weeks. How thick his neck was, how big his chest was, how low his belly hung. How wide his hips had gotten to the point that even his new sweatpants were tight on him. Any muscle previously on him was no longer visible. Now, he was beyond just fat. He was obese. And looking at himself right then and there, a new feeling brewed inside him.

H4nk was disgusted by what he saw.

“Care to explain how you became like this? What exactly did you think was going to happen?”

H4nk was silent.

“Come on. Answer me.”

H4nk hung his head. “…I just… I dunno…”

“H4nk, listen to me. I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but I need an answer. Because look at this!”

H4nk turned to see D0c holding up one of his wanted posters. He grabbed it in order to read it.

~~~

H4NK J. W1MBL3T0N

WANTED ALIVE

FREQUENTLY SPOTTED AT VARIOUS FAST FOOD AND DESSERT JOINTS WITH THAT GOD DAMN CLOWN

IF CAPTURED, THE AGENCY SHALL REWARD YOU GRACIOUSLY

~~~

Wanted… alive? The Agency, who had spent years trying to kill him, now wanted him alive? What for?

“H4nk. Tell me what you’ve been doing this instant.”

H4nk was silent once again. He kept avoiding eye contact.

“Look at me and tell me! NOW.”

“…I’ve… I’ve been hanging out…”

“Hanging out?”

“…with the clown.”

“Why?”

“…We… uh… hit it off?”

A gasp was heard.

“I knew it,” D31m0s whispered.

D0c turned to see S4nf0rd and D31m0s in the doorway, eavesdropping.

“Boys, this doesn’t concern you two.”

“Hey, we wanted to know, too! H4nk never tells us anything!”

D0c turned back to H4nk.

“How did you ‘hit it off’?”

“…He… He fed me. And snuggled with me and said I was cute and… I gave in. Then he said he loved me and… I guess… I love him too.”

There was more silence. D0c sighed.

“Oh, H4nk, how do I put this… Listen, I don’t care if you’re together with anyone. If you want to be with the clown, that’s fine. But it’s NOT fine if you let him control you like this!”

“Yeah,” S4nf0rd added. “‘Cuz it sounds to me like it’s taking advantage of you.”

“It’s not like that…” H4nk responded, hands beginning to shake.

“Just saying! It might not actually—“

“S4nf0rd, stop,” D0c interrupted. “The point is, H4nk, you’ve taken this way too far. You need to lose this weight.” He sighed. “And now with the Agency still after you, I’m afraid I have no choice but to keep you in.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You’re not leaving this building until I say so. And to keep you on track with your diet, I’m banning you from using the kitchen. And to rebuild all the muscle you've lost, I'll be setting you up on a mandatory exercise routine."

"But I told the clown I’ll see him again today.”

“I think it’s best if you stay away from him for now. Especially if he’s enabling you like this.”

H4nk huffed. Grabbing his gear and pushing S4nf0rd and D31m0s out of the way, he left the bathroom. D0c followed him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m gonna go see him.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes I am. I can handle myself out there.”

“H4nk, stop! You could barely get off the couch!”

H4nk was about to turn the doorknob.

“H4NK, IF YOU DIE LIKE THIS, I CAN’T REVIVE YOU!”

That stopped him in his tracks. D0c continued.

“Think about it. You can’t run. You can’t squeeze through anything. If the Agency captures you, you won’t be able to escape. And if you die out there, you’ll be trapped in the other place, and I won’t be able to bring you back. Now think. Are you going to work to lose this weight, or are you going to get yourself killed?”

H4nk stayed silent. He then removed his hand from the doorknob. He hung his head.

“Okay, D0c. I’ll listen to you.”

“Good. Now come on. Your first workout starts now.”

~~~

Three days had passed. H4nk was laying on his mattress, exhausted. Even with the strict exercise routine day after day, he felt weak. To the point that today, the first day D0c let S4nf0rd coach him, he worked him to the point of passing out. Then D0c allowed him a break in his room to recoup.

But H4nk didn’t feel like he could continue. In fact, he was starving. D0c only allowed him a little bit of food each day, enough to keep him alive. But to H4nk, it was barely a snack. And speaking of snacks, he kept begging S4nf0rd and D31m0s for even a taste of their leftovers, but they had to refuse.

This all left H4nk miserable, feeling hunger pains and hearing his empty stomach loudly growling. He was in sad shape. He should’ve been glad that he had lost a few pounds with this new routine. However, H4nk had a stubborn mind. And if he had to choose between being miserable for a benefit or living in ecstasy for a detriment, he would choose ecstasy.

He was getting out of here. But how?

[blzzrdstryr]

Reveries of turmoil

Yandere!Childe x fatui!reader

[Previous chapter]

Just as you predicted that short and stifled conversation was a portent of future changes. Childe stopped trying to talk to you outside the business, he even avoided your eyes in those rare moments when you looked at him first. Normally obnoxious and persistent Harbinger seemed to deflate in your presence, as his swaggering and blustering attitude disappeared within mere moments.

You would be overjoyed for this turn of events, if you didn’t have any experience of dealing with and tolerating Tartaglia. Childe, as you already established, is a chaos personified, an erratic whirlwind that twists and ruins everything in its way wrapped in human skin and caged by human bones. It wouldn’t be a surprise if some nasty complications arose out of this faux armistice and sneaked upon your unsuspecting self.

Ajax wont do anything drastic, you reassure yourself - the Rite of Descension gets closer and closer with each passing day, he just can't afford to fail this, meaning that he will have to keep you on-field. It would be logical to do so, let you work, but logical sometimes means predictable and nothing about Ajax is predictable.

Fortunately he continued to keep this strange distance as days passed. Was your little episode and words you said to him enough to stop him in his pursuit? Maybe it truly hurt him, maybe it made him see how miserable he was making you, maybe his obsession with you ceased to exist, it’s flames fizzling and going out just as fast as they ignited. You doubt all of it, yet continue to hope for the better, despite the evidence of the opposite shoved in your face.

Ajax will never let go of you, not in the way you want. He killed and tortured people right before your eyes, sometimes had you assist him in doing so. Most of the time this was done in Tsaritsa’s name, for the future of Snezhnaya and her people, just another working assignment regardless of the blood curdling screams and alien agony.

However, in some rare cases the torment of others isn’t something that is totally impersonal to you, sometimes you’re the main cause. Childe is possessive, terribly so. He watches over you like a dragon guarding his gold, scaring away other possible admirers. And if his title and reputation wasn’t enough to keep away whatever poor sod who decided to tempt the dragon, well, other way more grim methods were used.

You never personally witnessed these kinds of torture, but you heard rumours and sometimes saw the bodies after, images that keep reappearing in your nightmares. Maybe this lull is nothing but a quiet before the storm, a short breather after he commits some unforgettable atrocity again.

He personally summons you the day before the Descension. You brace yourself for incoming nonsense, except nothing comes. “Agent [Last]”, he says, his voice tense and restrained.”I need you to attend the Rite of Descension with me. You will be disguised as a civilian", and then he dismisses you, no hint of mind games he likes to play in sight.

You want to hope that he changed, you succeed and fail at the same time - this new Ajax is pleasant, he’s cold and disinterested, just like any boss should be, yet you just can’t relax and focus wholly on doing the job - it’s a privilege only those who haven’t met Tartaglia can afford.

He’s a sea, treacherous and ever changing, calm and serene in one moment, yet violent and crushing in the other.

You spend the day torn between the anxious thoughts of Tartaglia and what he might do and the preparation for upcoming ceremony - it's a once in a lifetime event, it's Tsaritsa’s will and hope, it's Ajax’s eyes focused on you. You can’t afford to fail, you have no right to do so.

Wearing a simple Snezhnayan overcoat with nothing hiding your face is surely strange after years of donning a fatui uniform. Tourists and Liyuens alike pass by, not paying you any attention. Both vision and delusion glow under the thick fabric, asking you to use them.

You walk faster.

The top of the Yujing Terrace is lit with sunlight and full of human sounds, as merchants and other workers haste to finish their tasks and join the people at the top. You look around, quickly noticing the familiar ginger - he stays half-turned to you, his eyes focused on the figure of Tianquan. You quickly avert your gaze, as if not recognizing him, and shift it towards other people - you spot two vision holders among the crowd too - an electro and geo one, and a strange person cladded in the exotic clothes with some sort of flying fairy(?) floating around.

You walk to the altar placing Liyuen flowers nearby the multiple offerings of food, wine and gold, their simple white petals contrasting against the gaudy luxury of the rest.

"Qingxin flowers?", someone suddenly says, a speck of genuine surprise evident in the phrase. Their voice is too close for your comfort - you quickly turn on the heels, alarmed by a person somehow sneaking up on you only to be met with a pair of the golden eyes.

It’s a nicely dressed Liyuen gentleman, with the air of wisdom and elegance surrounding him, an inner dignity shining from beneath, and most importantly the one you saw wearing a vision at the back of the coat. You try to look as calm as possible, despite the senses telling you otherwise - after years of service any vision holder unadorned by the Fatui colors is perceived as a threat.

“Yes, it is”, you quip back, not wanting to look suspicious: “Is this improper? Qingxin as an offering?”, you mimic a light concern - something that would be appropriate for the foreign merchant who might have offended the god of commerce.

“No, not at all”, Liyuen laughs: “just in all of my years, I have never seen anyone offer these flowers”.

“Huh”, you smile, looking at the man before you. Is he a simple liyuen you thought of him at first? He has Geo vision - the symbol of Archaic Lord’s recognition - and the way he said “all of my years” carry more weight than usual, a mark of something hidden beneath the mundane phrase.

“Something tells me, you must have attended every rite of Descension”, you continue, the starter vague and innocent enough - a perfect way to fish out more information. For some reason, his golden eyes widen a bit, it’s subtle and quick enough to go unnoticed by most people, but you’re not the most people - all Fatui agents are trained to catch even the smallest changes and educated in multiple fields, physiognomy included.

What could have caused such a reaction and why did he react the way he did? The Rite of Descension is a prominent event in the life of every Liyuen, even if it’s annual, as thousands of thousands of people traverse great distances to see their god fly down from the heavens and grace his subjects with the wisdom of countless years. You remember seeing Liyuens living in Snezhnaya consistently take a leave every year for a week, when the prominent date showed on the horizon, missing working days and no doubt a lot of nerves, only to see the archon of their homeland.

So why did that man looks so surprised?

“You’re quite perceptive, aren’t you?”, he responds, voice calm and pleasant, despite the masterfully hidden surprise: “And yes, I have always tried my best to be at every Rite to this day. Rex Lapis shares his experience with his people, so it’s an incredibly important day. And what about you? What brings a foreigner here?”, he makes a gesture at your obviously snezhnayan clothes.

“Well, I am a travelling merchant as you can see”, you raise your hands, showing him more of the coat: “Having blessing from the God of Commerce won't hurt, right?". He, again, reacts in the way you haven't anticipated, a handsome face adopting a contemplating expression for a short second.

"Rex Lapis rewards diligent people, work hard and he shall bless you too", he says with an air of wisdom around him, like an old enlightened monk passing his knowledge to the disciples surrounding him: "And you shouldn't keep your vision beneath the layers of cloth. I feel its chill just standing here, who knows what it will do to your body?".

Then he simply turns away and goes to the exit of Yujing terrace, and it’s your turn to suppress the rising agitation - how did he know, where’s he heading now?

“Wait”, you say: “why are you leaving?”

“I dedicated my whole life to my job, which consists of a collection of small and incredibly repetitive tasks, they took up most of my attention and I slowly, but surely became a creature of habit, deaf and blind outside its limited field of experience and comfort zone. Time never stops, so I decided to leave the work I’ve been entrusted with, and I want to start it by breaking my strongest habit - religiously attending every Rite of Descension”.

“Ah”, you reply, equally impressed by his speech, and feeling that you are talking about two completely different and unrelated topics: “well, good luck on that”.

More and more people flood the terrace as one of the main threats to your plans finally arrives - stern and ambitious, Ningguang looks as elegant and intimidating as ever, geo vision and the tassel attached to it, shaking with every graceful step. She throws a short glance at Tartaglia - he stands surrounded by the rest of the agents - yet her face doesn’t change even a bit, whatever hostility she may hold for your faction masterfully suppressed.

You quickly look around - tourists and citizens arrive at the last minutes and milleliths come with them. Soon, all of the exits are heavily guarded by at least four soldiers, all carrying spears and clad in armour - surely a necessary precaution, given the presence of Fatui and their Harbinger.

There are no milleliths among the crowd though, not in the on-duty uniform at least. You study the group again, this time looking for anyone with weapons, as someone lightly pushes you away - it’s that foreigner again. “I am sorry, we need to go closer”, the pixie-like creature apologizes, as it flies after the stranger, and you conclude that there are no armed people, except you, Tartaglia, milleliths, Ningguang and that strange person.

“The hour is upon us”, Tianquan starts, after looking at the bright sun above, two women around her slightly bowing down, as she invokes the power of geo. The gold glow surrounds and illuminates her whole figure, before condensing into hard rocks of the same shade. They shine and fly around her for a bit, leaving the yellow trails behind before starting to spin around the shrine in the middle of the rock table.

Soon the golden inscriptions on the shrine start to glow too, before it sends a bright orange beam into the blue sky. The crowd "Oh!"s and "Ah!"s as the clouds deform around the pillar of light.

Tension, so thick it can be tasted, descends in the waves upon the Terrace as some - carefree and ignorant - hold their breaths in excitement and anticipation, whilst the rest focus in caution - Fatui and Qingxin alike. You shift, taking out both vision and delusion out of your coat, as your eyes frantically shift between Tianquan, Tartaglia and the spiraling clouds above, your whole being ready to aid Childe in his mission.

And then something unexpected happens: a majestic dragon does descend to his people. By falling straight to the ground. Serpentine body slumps around the crushed offerings, elongated tongue escaping the confines of the maw.

A long second of absolute silence passes before Ningguang collects herself, checks the body and orders milleliths to close off all the exits, as the crowd erupts into turmoil and chaos realizing what exactly has happened. You disguise amongst the panicking masses, hiding two glowing orbs in the deep pockets of your coat,before looking at Tartaglia again - he in turn intently stares at the blonde foreigner, who quite clumsily tries to sneak past the soldiers.

Milleliths catch onto that running after the stranger and you use this opportunity, turning invisible in the same second. People around you are too panicked to question your sudden disappearance or the unnaturally cold breeze swaying past them, as you make your way - Childe has already departed, chasing after the group of soldiers, and Ningguang is seen leaving too, giving the last orders, before turning to the Yuehai pavillion.

You contemplate for a second, unsure what to do - Tartaglia has ordered you to aid him in case of Qixing intervention, there was nothing about the death of your target and the glimpse into Tianquan’s actions might be a key to solving the mystery of said departure. The thing that you plan to do is opportunistic, reckless even - who would have known that Ajax will rub off onto you? You chase after Ningguang, careful to keep yourself invisible.

Who is Rex Lapis’ murderer?

She goes up to the aged man standing at the stairs of the pavilion, they exchange a couple of words before Ningguang steps up on the little floating island and it starts to levitate! You run after her, still unsure what to do - the platform is too small, Tianquan will no doubt feel the chill coming from you, but the opportunity to learn what Qixing are planning is too good to miss.

In the end, you come to compromise, jumping after the rising platform, as your hands clutch into its rough protrusions and you grit your teeth, enduring the pain and cold from the vision overuse. The little island rises higher and higher, as people and buildings underneath turn into small dots. Your fingers start to slide off a couple of times, yet you grab onto the island with a renewed strength everytime that happens, asking Tsaritsa to let fortune favour you.

The platform finally stops moving, and you pull up, once you hear her heels clicking away.

Jade chamber, as it turns out, exceeds all rumours, luxurious and opulent, shining above the prosperous city, it glows under the sunlight with a golden radiance. You would have stopped to admire it if it wasn’t for your goal. You sneak after Ningguang, following her to the office as she takes out papers and folders from the shelves. She focuses on them, as you carefully step near her, glancing at what she’s reading - it’s reports of fatui activity throughout the months, leading to this day, thankfully vague and very far from reality.

Does it mean that she also has no idea of what or who caused Rex Lapis’ death and tries to find his killer? Or does it mean that she looks for a way to deduct Fatui's next actions?

You don’t have time to contemplate, as the frost worsens and you feel cryo energy exhausting from the overuse - one more minute and you’ll become visible. You quickly walk away - you don’t have enough time to reach that platform, so you do the most logical thing - fling yourself out of the window, opening the wings of the glider halfway the jump.

You push the most of your invisibility, letting go of the cryo powers once you're only a couple of meters above the ground. In the end you find yourself tired and frozen to the very bones, slowly coming back to the Northland bank.

***

You approach the building as the Sun begins to set - its pink-orange rays dying everything in the warm glow. The bank looks glorious like that, sinking in the reddish tones, it looks like an illustration out of children’s books - a place of something miraculous, a place of something hopeful.

“Hi”, you throw to the tired Vlad and he nods, after suppressing an escaping yawn: “Is boss here?”

“Yeah”, he croaks, drowsiness evident in his speech: “came back like an hour or two ago. Can’t really remember”.

“Huh.. Well, thanks”, and with these words you enter the bank, pushing the doors and preparing yourself for the confrontation to come.

After chatting with Ekaterina and confirming that yes, he is in his office, you head for the staircase, all of the information you learned today buzzing inside your head.

Childe sits, hunched over the papers, as you enter, not paying you even the sliver of attention. For some reason he’s in a different clothes.

“Eleventh Harbinger”, you start the standard greeting, all formal and stiff: “this subordinate has finished the task”.

This finally prompts him to raise his head, cold blue eyes look at you, no hint of the usual obsessiveness in sight: "you may speak, agent" he succinctly says, putting the writing feather aside. You quickly report to him all you have seen today, without your own thoughts involved - they’re just baseless theories, after all.

“So you say, Tianquan was reading the reports about Fatui activity. Haven’t you destroyed those reports earlier?”

“Those papers contained nothing about the current situation, they were actually far from reality, I doubt that any of those reports survived the fire”.

“Seems, I’ll have to take your word for it”, a sigh, he leans closer in his seat, propping left cheek on the palm: “Why did Tianquan look at them? What was she trying to do? Pin her crime on us?”, he glances at you again, gesturing that you can speak your mind and you do.

“Highly unlikely, sir. From the short time I spent watching her and her reputation, I have an impression that Qixing Tianquan is a person who prefers to plan her every action. If she or any other Qixing higher up, were the one who murdered our target, then every needed preparation would be done months, if not even years in advance. She would somehow cast us as the killers right at the ceremony, in front of thousands of Liyuens, making us a scapegoat for public outrage and creating alibi for herself”.

“So, that’s how you think”, he hums, blue eyes deep in thought: “Your entire conclusion is based on the mere impression. With Tianquan’s ambition I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one behind this...”, a vague hand gesture: “catastrophic situation”.

“When I sneaked inside the Jade chamber, she looked very frantic, it didn’t show on her face, but her movements were harsh and quick, lacking any of her elegance. She looked like she tried to keep herself together”.

“Anyone would try to do that, especially after killing a god”, he looks somewhere to the left, no doubt imagining battling the dead archon: “Well, my conclusion isn’t based on anything solid either. We don’t know who killed Rex Lapis, but we still need to somehow obtain his gnosis”, the last part isn’t addressed directly to you, it seems that Ajax just decided to voice out his worries.

“You can go”, he says, standing up from the table. You are touching the door handle, when you hear him asking:”what’s with your hand?”. The tone is nothing like that time, yet shivers still go up your spine when you remember what happened that day.

"Frostbite, from my vision", he comes closer to you, hand outstretched to yours: “Can I?”, he asks and waits for your faint nod, before gently pulling it closer to his face.

“It’s a second degree”, he mumbles, inspecting the white-blue discolorations and small angry blisters - the skin throbs and aches at his touch, yet most of it remains numb, muffled, like sounds underwater: “You should get it treated”.

“I should”, you agree, eager to leave this room and situation: “I will ask medics for some..”

“I already discharged them”, his hand suddenly shifts, now resting atop of the door handle, his frame suddenly looming over you: “I have a medkit here, with the ointments and balms. Maybe you should stay here and let me patch you up?”

Why did you even think that Childe could change?

***

Ajax has you sitting on his chair, with sleeves rolled up to the very elbows, as he frets around you - checking the temperature, pulling the warm water closer to you and taking out needed medicine out of the kit. It’s mostly silent, except the tune he quietly hums - Childe looks peaceful and content like this, maybe he likes caring for you.

“Does it hurt?”, he takes a discolored finger, probing around the blister, as the warm hydro energy engulfs your damaged hand. The burst of sensation explodes at this action - pain, tingling, throbbing, even relief.

“Bearable”.

“Understood”, Childe gets back to his task, continuing to rewarm your hands, still humming that tune as he does so. He takes out the healing ointment, when the healthy color and warmth returns to your limbs and spreads it on the skin, bitter herbal scent filling the room in an instant.

“[First]”, he says, as he rubs the place between the index and middle fingers: “I think we need to talk. About that day and your reaction”.

“And what about it?”, you respond, too quickly and snappy for the calm-facade - the memories of that day, of what you thought he will do to you, of how he witnessed you falling apart - all of these are too much, a maelstrom of conflicted feelings rising every time your thoughts stray to this topic. He finishes applying the balm and now switches to the bandanges, wrapping treated hands in them.

“Don’t you think you treat me too harshly, [First]? I understand I may have been… unpleasant in the Past, but I thought we moved past that. What have I done to warrant such ire?”, he says it with his usual smile, but there's a tense, heavy tinge in his words. It’s subtle enough to miss, but you knew Ajax since you both were fourteen, so the strain doesn’t go unnoticed.

Everything, you want to coldly respond, but you stop yourself again - Ajax is still a Harbinger, even if he trailed your steps at the training camp like an overeager and highly murderous puppy not even a decade ago, no matter your own feelings or sentiments or even experiences he still holds that power over you, whether he realizes it or not.

“There were.. things”, broken bones, coppery scent of blood, someone else screams: “training with you wasn’t pleasant for sure”. Childe laughs at the last part, yet the tension clouding in the air doesn’t dissipate, turning more tangible instead.

“I see”, a long pause: “I want to prove you're wrong, I want to prove you that I will never do something against your will”.

You already did. You stay silent at that, anger and fury and frustration boiling underneath, burning and scorching your insides like a magma moments before the eruption. His hands finally wrap the last layer of bandage, tying the ends into a neat little bow, yet he doesn’t let your palm out of your hold, as his lips hover over it, breath burning the skin even through the fabric. And then he releases it, not doing anything.

“Good luck with that”, you finally suppress the inner storm, and stand up from the chair, quickly heading to the door. The place where he almost kissed your tingles and throbs with a renewed strength. Your cheeks burn for some reason.

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 02

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7k [2/6]

notes: looks like it’s a writing/editing kinda day, folks! hope you enjoy this installment, and let me know what you think! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, jeon jungkook is a goddamn tease, smuuuut, oral (f receiving), jk’s got a big dick whoOPS, minimally edited bc i’m feeling lazy

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Morning brings with it bright sunshine and fresh horror as the events of the previous evening come rushing back. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to look Jeon Jungkook in the eye again—or at least, not without being reminded of the way he’d plagued every single one of your dreams with devilish eyes and even more devilish fingers. Groaning, you scrub at your temples, as if that will help dispel the memories. After a few fruitless moments, you crawl out of bed and head for the bathroom, intent on washing everything away with a good, cold shower.

Try as you might, though, you simply cannot avoid your dark-haired neighbor. You’re in the kitchen sipping at your second coffee of the day and debating what you want for lunch when there’s a knock on the front door—a familiar rhythm that has your heart stuttering. “It’s open!” Jimin yells from the living room, and a moment later, the devil himself strolls in, wearing a plain black t-shirt with ripped jeans and well-worn Timberlands. Vaguely, you wonder when he made the switch from white tees to black, but your musings are cut short when he spots you in the kitchen, an impish grin settling across his face.

“Hey, Noona.”

“Hey.” You thank whatever god may be out there that your voice is steady. “Jimin’s in the living room.”

Jungkook tilts his head coyly and takes a step forward. “What makes you think I’m here for Jimin? Maybe I came to see you.”

Anxiously, you swallow down the memories of his warm hands that are trying to resurface. “I highly doubt that.”

“Really?” Jungkook takes another step forward and plucks the coffee mug from your hands. “What if I came over to finish what I started last night?”

Heat floods across your face. “That—that was… I mean, I don’t—”

“You don’t what?” Jungkook asks, raising a brow. “Want me? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a lie, Noona.” Quietly, he closes the last bit of distance between you, and when he speaks again you can feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “You see, I think you want me. Just as much as I want you. Am I wrong?”

“Jungkook, we—”

“Dude, what’s taking you so long?” Jimin’s head suddenly pops around the doorway, and you nearly jump out of your skin in your effort to put some distance between you and your dark-haired neighbor. “I’m about to start the game without you.”

“Just wanted to grab some coffee and say hi to {Name},” Jungkook replies, raising your half-empty mug to his lips and taking a sip. “Did you want to join us, Noona? It’d be fun to watch you kick Jimin’s ass at Mario Kart again.”

You swallow, hard. “I can’t. I’ve got homework to do.” Not strictly true, perhaps, but you’d been planning on looking over the details of your internship again at some point, and now seems as good a time as any. “Sorry,” you add quickly, seeing Jungkook’s disbelieving expression.

“Summer homework? Gross.” Jimin pulls a face. “You’re still coming to Tae’s party though, right?”

You nod, unwillingly catching Jungkook’s eye again. He’s still sipping at your coffee, and you don’t miss the flagrant wink he shoots you over the rim of the cup. “See you later then, Noona,” he says, his voice practically a purr.

“Right,” you respond dully, your heart skipping a beat at the dark promise in his stare. “Later.”

Jimin and Jungkook disappear down the hall, but you remain rooted in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, listening as the music of whatever video game they’ve decided on starts playing from the living room. Heaving a sigh, you fetch a new mug from the cupboard and pour yourself some more coffee, grabbing an apple and a bag of chips as well. Taking everything up to your bedroom, you pull out your laptop and make yourself comfortable on your bed, plugging in some headphones to drown out the noise from downstairs. With any luck, you won’t have to see Jungkook again until you have to leave for Taehyung’s party, and you’re pretty sure that it’ll be easy to avoid him once you’re there.

In fact, you’re certain of it.

So with that thought in mind, you settle down with your coffee and open up Netflix, sinking into the pillows and pushing your dark-haired neighbor into the deepest recesses of your mind. It isn’t until your phone starts vibrating insistently against your thigh that you are startled out of your binge-watching, the screen lit up with two new notifications. Surprised, you realize that hours have passed, the sky outside your window deepening into the hazy blue of nighttime.

[6:02pm] Jungkook: you hungry, noona?

[6:02pm] Jungkook: for pizza, i mean. we ordered dinner

[6:03pm] Jungkook: but i’ll be your dessert if you want me ;)

You drop your phone as if burned, his final message playing over and over in your mind. It takes you a full minute to gather your wits again, stowing your device in your pocket without responding and carefully picking your way downstairs. Already, you can smell the cheesy grease, your stomach growling in anticipation.

Just grab the pizza and go, you think to yourself, formulating your escape plan and double-checking it for any holes. Dine and dash.

You’re walking past the foyer when there’s suddenly a knock on the front door. Curiously, you answer it, swinging it open to see a familiar grinning face standing on the doorstep. Lee Taemin is a good friend of Jimin’s, and your brother pokes his head out from the kitchen at the sound of your greeting, clearly expecting the new guest.

“Taemin! Get in here and have some pizza,” Jimin says, his mouth full. “You too, Noona. We got plenty.”

Instead of immediately heading for the food, Taemin wraps you in a hug that has you wheezing for air. “Long time no see, huh? How’ve you been?”

You squirm in his tight embrace, raised to your tiptoes. “Put me down, you heathen. I’m fine right now, but I won’t be if you suffocate me.”

Taemin chortles good-naturedly and releases his grip, ruffling your hair. “Good to see you too, {Name}. Honestly, it hasn’t been the same around here without you. How long are you back for? The whole summer?”

You shake your head. “Just a couple weeks. I’ve got to get back for an internship.”

“Already a hotshot, huh?” Taemin grins. “What are you going to be doing?”

The topic of your summer job is a welcome distraction from the way Jungkook’s dark gaze trails after you as you tread into the kitchen alongside Taemin, slapping two slices of pizza onto a plate and glancing around for a napkin. You can feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull, prickling your skin with electricity, but continue your conversation with Taemin as if nothing is amiss.

“You gonna sit down or what?” Taemin gives you a quizzical glance as he pulls a chair out from the table, joining Jimin and Jungkook who are already seated. You do your best to ignore the way Jungkook’s jaw flexes with every chew, somehow managing to look infuriatingly handsome despite the mouth full of dough and pizza grease staining his chin.

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for the excuse you had planned. “—I still have some work to do. Reading and whatnot.”

“Nerd,” Jimin snorts.

Taemin shrugs. “Okay, then. Suit yourself, I guess.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. But you feel his eyes burning into your skin as you head back upstairs, and it isn’t until you are safely back in your bedroom, sagging against the closed door, that you can finally breathe properly again.

///

You end up departing for the party nearly twenty minutes after the official start time of eight o’clock, caving to Jimin’s insistence on being fashionably late. Personally, you think he just wanted the extra time to work on his hair—making sure every strand is perfectly, effortlessly tousled—and call him out on it as he locks the front door behind you.

“I didn’t spend that long on my hair,” Jimin sniffs defensively. “Besides, you’re the one who needed to run back in and get your wallet. What do you even need your wallet for? We’re walking like, four blocks.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you retort. “What if I get murdered and they need to identify my body? What if I get mugged? You never know!”

Taemin falls into step beside you. “What if we need to tip a stripper?” he chimes in.

You nod and raise your hand for a high-five without taking your eyes off your brother. “Exactly! You have to tip your sex workers, Chim!”

Jimin waggles a suggestive eyebrow. “I think I’d rather give them a different ti—”

You push him off the sidewalk before he can finish speaking, pulling a face as he stumbles into the street in a fit of laughter. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you perv!”

The remainder of the short walk to Taehyung’s house passes uneventfully. Jimin doesn’t bother knocking, throwing open the door like he owns the place, and you trail after him with Taemin and Jungkook on your heels. Immediately, you’re assailed by a cacophonous sea of conversation and thumping music, people milling around in the dimly lit interior.

“There you are!” The voice comes from your left, and you barely have time to register the speaker’s face before she’s gasping and engulfing you in a hug. “{Name}, you made it! Hi!”

You laugh, squeezing her back. “Hi, Chaeyoung. It’s good to see you. Sorry I didn’t catch you at graduation.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving you off. “We have all the time in the world to catch up now. Let’s get you away from these boys and find you a drink, shall we?” Flipping a lock of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, she loops her arm through yours and begins steering you toward the kitchen. “So what are you in the mood for? The beer’s shit, so I’d stay away from anything in the cooler, but everything else is actually drinkable.”

“Shocking,” you remark, peering at the mess of bottles and cups lining the kitchen counter. There’s a massive bowl of a horrifyingly neon green concoction as well, and you take one whiff before backing away again, nose wrinkling in disgust. “I see Tae’s still making punch.”

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Chaeyoung advises. “He’s somehow managed to make it twice as sugary and three times more alcoholic than last year’s. Pretty sure it’s worse than moonshine at this point.”

You grin and locate an empty cup, raising it in her direction. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Chaeyoung refills her own drink, and you settle on a simple blend of cranberry juice and vodka. Together, you head back in the direction of the living room, where Jisoo and Lisa are chattering away on a couch in the corner. They look up at your arrival, greeting you with smiles and hugs, and quickly usher you into a seat beside them.

“So,” Jisoo begins, leaning forward. “How’s college?”

“Tell us everything,” Lisa adds, propping her chin in her palm. “Is it nice living away from home?”

Jisoo waggles her brows. “Forget that. Have you met any guys?”

Unbidden, Jungkook springs to the forefront of your mind, dark eyes staring at you from beneath equally dark hair as he leans down, down, down—

“Nope!” you blurt before your thoughts can progress any further. “I mean, I share a suite with a couple guys, but that doesn’t count.”

“Are they cute?” Lisa prods.

“They must be more mature than these high school boys,” Chaeyoung sighs.

“Hardly,” you snort. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

The gossip continues. More people arrive as the night wears on, the living room filling up with dancing bodies. A few girls you don’t know join in your conversation, perching on armrests and ottomans and the carpeted floor as a last resort. Across the hall in the dining room, you spot Taemin setting up a table for beer pong, a triumphant shout going up when Taehyung procures an unopened package of balls from somewhere in the hall closet.

“This is gonna be tournament style, got it?” he announces as he tears the package open. “Winner goes up against the undefeated champs—Jungkook and Yugyeom!”

Even from your comfy seat on the couch, you can see the arrogant twist of Jungkook’s mouth as he leans over to give Yugyeom a high-five. You can’t tear your eyes away from the way he tongues his cheek, lounging back into a chair to watch the first round of the game. Jimin steps forward alongside Taehyung, and you watch as your brother scrutinizes the pyramid of cups, poised to make a throw that lifts his shirt just enough to expose a flash of his admittedly toned abdomen.

“He wore that shirt on purpose,” Jisoo accuses, and you huff out a sound that’s more snort than laugh.

“Please, it’s just the only shirt he owns that isn’t dirty. Trust me.”

“I don’t even care,” another girl you don’t know the name of pipes up. “I’d still let him blow my back out.”

You grimace. “And on that note, I suddenly need another drink,” you announce, to giggles. Wrenching out of your cozy seat between Jisoo and Lisa, you wave your near empty cup in farewell and make your way toward the kitchen, carefully skirting around the dancers and beer pong spectators spilling out into the hallway.

The kitchen is deserted when you walk in, everyone having flocked to the dining room to watch the beer pong tournament. Humming along to the music, you open up the fridge and survey its contents, hoping to find something decent. Curiously, you pick your way past a few cans before turning a dark glass bottle around to read the label.

“Are you avoiding me, Noona?”

The voice comes from behind you, deep and sinfully resonant, and you don’t even have to turn around to know that he’s standing just inches away. His breath ruffles through the hair at the nape of your neck, sending gooseflesh prickling across your skin, and when strong hands curl gently around your hips you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I missed you, y’know,” he continues, his mouth finding its way to your ear and nipping lightly at the lobe. “You didn’t talk to me all day, even though I was right there in your house. Ran like a scared little rabbit when you saw me in the kitchen, didn’t you?” Softly, his lips ghost along the column of your throat, pressing a kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. “So, now what? Are you gonna run from me again?”

You don’t think you could if you tried. Your feet are rooted firmly in place, your entire body frozen as you await whatever he’ll do next. And when he urges you to spin around and face him, you obey immediately, your hands coming up to splay against his chest as he presses even closer and rewards your compliance with a kiss.

“Jungkook,” you breathe against his parted lips. “Jungkook, god.”

Slowly, he trails down your neck, leaving soft nips in his wake. “Yes, Noona?”

“We can’t,” you whisper, even as your head falls back to allow him more access to your clavicle. “Jungkook, we can’t do this.”

Your companion raises his head then, his dark gaze meeting yours. “Tell me to stop,” he says quietly. His thumbs dip beneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing circles into the soft skin of your waist, and you inhale sharply at the feeling. “If that’s what you want, Noona, just tell me to stop and I will. I promise.”

He’s palming along your hips now. The warmth of his palms seeps into your body, rendering it increasingly difficult to concentrate. His mouth returns to your neck as he awaits your answer, and you don’t miss the way his lips curl into a smirk against the delicate skin of your collarbone when you hesitate a moment too long.

“Well, Noona?”

Fuck it. Your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. “Jungkook, kiss me,” you breathe, throwing all remaining remnants of caution to the wind.

Jungkook straightens up to his full height, his smirk widening. “Anything for you, princess,” he remarks before leaning down, winding one hand in your hair and finding purchase in the curve of your waist with the other. The newfound pet name ignites a tendril of heat in the pit of your belly, and when Jungkook finally closes the gap between your lips, you release a breathy moan that he eagerly swallows. The hand in your hair tightens its grip to pull you even closer, tongues and teeth clashing as he deepens the kiss.

It’s only when the need for air becomes critical that you break away from him with a gasp, your lungs aching. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his chest heaving beneath the thin white material of his t-shirt. He releases his grip on your hair, his thumb grazing across your cheek gently instead, and when he leans in to plant another kiss on your mouth, you exhale shakily. “God, Jungkook.”

His arm tightens around your waist. “What do you need, princess?” he asks, and you can’t deny your delight at his continued use of the nickname. His teeth find the lobe of your ear again, and you release a breathy moan as he delivers a particularly sharp nip to the soft flesh before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below it. “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

You slide your hands along his broad shoulders and up to his nape, brushing the silver hoops in his ears before tangling your fingers in his silky hair. “You’re teasing me.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue and pulls away, your arms falling uselessly to your sides as he takes a step back. “I just need to hear you say it, Noona,” he chides, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. “I need to hear you say that you want this. That you want me.”

A shiver dances up your spine, and you aren’t sure whether it’s due to his wicked lilt or the sudden absence of his body heat. “I want you,” you whisper, reaching out to touch him. “Jungkook, please.”

The smirk that spreads across his face is absolutely devastating. “Then come with me,” he commands softly, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together. You leave behind the thumping music and the loud chatter of the party, allowing Jungkook to pull you into one of several rooms lining the hallway and squeaking when he shuts the door and immediately pins you against it. His mouth slants across yours, hot and urgent, and you moan into the kiss as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Jungkook breathes, pulling away just enough to whisper the words against your lips. “Fuck, princess, look at this tiny little skirt you’re wearing. You’ve been killing me all night, you know that?”

He punctuates the words with another kiss, nipping harshly at your bottom lip. His hands slide down to the curve of your ass, and you gasp when he scoops you up effortlessly. “Legs around my waist,” he orders, readjusting his grip as he begins walking you further into the room.

It’s the laundry room, you realize upon closer inspection. Jungkook’s busy mouthing at your neck, but he breaks away with a smirk when he finally reaches his destination, plopping you down atop the cool metal of the washing machine. “Shame there’s nothing in here,” he remarks, kicking the side softly. “I really wanna fuck you with this thing running one day. But for now…” His smirk widens, his hands settling on your knees. “This’ll do.”

In an instant, he’s pushed up your skirt and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs. He drops to his knees, smoothing his hands along your inner thighs, and your cheeks flush when he urges you to spread them further. “Jungkook—“ you mumble, thoroughly embarrassed as he stares reverently at your exposed core, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Quit staring at me like that.”

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing a soft trail of kisses along your thigh. “You’re so beautiful, Noona.”

“You…”

You trail off, unsure of what to say. What do you say when your little brother’s best friend is staring at you like you’re a desert oasis and he’s been wandering, dehydrated, for days? What do you say when the scrawny neighbor kid you’d grown up with is caressing every inch of your legs, soothing the soft skin with his fingers and lips?

What do you say when you realize, once and for all, that Jeon Jungkook is undoubtedly—unabashedly—a man now?

You swallow, hard. Jungkook is nearing your core now, his hair tickling your thighs, and you gasp when he slides a finger up your slit experimentally. “You’re so wet,” he breathes. “So wet, and so—” He touches the pad of his finger to his tongue, grinning up at you as he laps up your essence. “—delicious. Fuck. You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

And then he leans forward, boldly licking a stripe up the length of your entrance. Strong arms wind around your legs to hold you open, and when he shoves his face even deeper, his nose brushing against your clit, you let out a strangled whimper. “Fuck, Jungkook—”

The sound of his name draws a pleased hum from the young man nestled between your thighs, rumbling through his chest and straight to your core. Your walls clench, but Jungkook stubbornly refuses to dip his tongue inside. Instead, he teases at your folds, spreading them apart with two fingers and licking ardently at your leaking juices before kissing a short trail up to your clit. “Can you cum like this?” he asks curiously, thumbing across the sensitive bundle of nerves.

His answer comes in the form of a breathy gasp, your hips jerking upward to seek out more friction. Jungkook chuckles and obliges your silent request, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours as he begins rubbing slow circles around your bud. “Guess that’s a yes,” he murmurs, pressing yet another kiss to your thigh. His gaze remains locked on yours as he rubs a little harder, dragging your juices up from your slit and digging in deep until you are moaning aloud, your hands coming down to fist in his silky hair.

“I-I’m close,” you keen. “Please, Jungkook, please.”

Jungkook hums and leans back. At the same time, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them upward, and the sudden surge of fullness is more than enough to tip you over the edge. His name escapes your lips in a garbled moan, your walls spasming around his hand as he continues teasing your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you finally whine from oversensitivity and bat him away. Obediently, he withdraws, rising to his feet so that he towers over you once more.

“Holy fuck,” he murmurs, staring down at you with an expression caught somewhere between awestruck wonder and unbridled hunger. “You’re so pretty when you cum. So pretty and perfect and—” He swallows, his throat bobbing harshly. “God, I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you now, Noona? Will you let me stretch open this pretty little pussy and fill you up with my cock?”

Your breath hitches. Never in a million years could you have imagined that your brother’s mild-mannered best friend could have such a filthy mouth, but you cannot hide the way your core clenches at his words. Slowly, you raise your arms, winding them around his neck to pull him closer. “Yes,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his. “Fuck me, Jungkook.”

A groan escapes him, deep and cavernous in a way that sends heat spiking through your veins. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time, his mouth chasing after yours as one hand finds the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other slides down to the waistband of his jeans, freeing himself from the confines of the denim. He doesn’t break the kiss for a moment, even as he grabs your hips and pulls you closer. It isn’t until you’re seated on the very edge of the washing machine, wrapping your legs around his waist to steady yourself, that you pull away and let your gaze fall to his newly revealed cock. Jungkook is long and deliciously thick, and you let out a shaky breath when you see the pearlescent white drops beading at the swollen tip.

“Oh my god.” The words bubble up automatically, escaping you in an airy whisper. “How are you so big?”

Jungkook huffs out a hoarse chuckle, amusement glittering in his dark irises. “Think you can take all of me, princess?”

Your gaze falls down to his length again, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “Put on a condom, and let’s find out.”

Jungkook grins and produces a little foil wrapper from somewhere in his back pocket, tearing into it with his teeth. You help him roll the condom over his cock, and as soon as it’s in place, he’s lining himself up and pushing inside you. A deep groan escapes him as he parts your walls inch by torturous inch, and you moan as your pussy is stretched to its limit, molding to his shape and sheer size. By the time he bottoms out, he’s almost prodding at your cervix, and you grab breathlessly at his bicep.

“I—I need a minute,” you gasp, your body spasming around him as you fight to adjust to the surge of fullness.

“Me too,” Jungkook rasps, his voice strained. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales deeply through his nose, cursing again when you clench around him unconsciously. “Fuck. You’re so tight.”

For a few moments, there’s only the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder. His breath is hot against the exposed skin of your clavicle, and you sigh when you feel him mouthing at the delicate skin, nipping softly before soothing across it with his tongue.

At the sound, Jungkook raises his head, dark eyes meeting yours before dropping down to where the two of you are joined. “God, you look so good like this,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “So pretty, stuffed full of my cock.”

You clench around him again—this time more purposefully. Jungkook’s mouth falls open, a silent question on the tip of his tongue, and you answer it with a deliberate roll of your hips, wordlessly encouraging him to move. Gingerly, he obeys, retreating until only the head of his erection remains inside you. His hand drops down to your clit, and you keen out his name when he surges forward at the same time he flicks his thumb across the sensitive nub. Pleasure licks at your spine, replacing the discomfort. Jungkook lets out a pleased hum.

Slowly, he works up a rhythm, keeping his thrusts shallow as he begins rubbing circles around your clit again. With his other hand, he slides the straps of your top down your shoulders, tugging the bodice down just enough to free your breasts. Your nipples harden at the exposure, and a moan escapes you when he immediately takes one between his fingers, rolling and pinching at the peak. The additional stimulation, paired with the heavy drag of his cock along your walls and his insistent thumb on your clit, has you teetering dangerously close to the edge, your tummy tensing.

“Jungkook—” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. He grunts in response and picks up the pace, rolling even more fervently up into your clenching heat, and you gasp when a particularly hard thrust sends you scooting backward atop the washing machine. “Fuck! I’m close, Jungkook.”

“Me too,” he grits out. “Come on, princess, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go for me one more time—”

And with one final flick of his wrist and a thrust that’s so deep you can practically feel him in the back of your throat, you come completely undone, spasming wildly around his cock. It all proves too much for Jungkook, who’s groaning right alongside you as he reaches his high, spilling into the condom. He chants your name like a prayer as his hips gradually still, and his lips seek out yours almost instinctively as his cock softens inside you. The kiss is lazy and languid, contentment settling in your veins. Jungkook wraps you up in a warm embrace, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to explore.

It isn’t until a loud cheer rises up from the front of the house that you snap out of your blissful haze. “We should get back to the party,” you mumble into the kiss, pushing against Jungkook’s chest when he only pulls you closer. “Jungkook, come on. People are gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

“You know what else will make people suspicious? You, coming out like that.” He gestures at the skirt hiked up around your waist, a slow smirk playing at his lips as he gives you a once-over, his gaze lingering on the wet sheen streaking your inner thighs. “As much as I’m enjoying the view.”

You swat his arm. “Stop that!”

Jungkook snickers and bends down to pick up your discarded panties, swinging them around his index finger. “Stop what?”

“Oh my god, Jungkook.”

Cackling, he returns the lacy undergarment to you, watching as you pull the material up your legs. You adjust your shirt while he disposes of his condom, and when you hop off the washing machine, he offers you a hand that you gratefully accept, gripping his arm as you steady yourself on shaky legs.

“You should leave first,” you tell him, smoothing out the wrinkles in his t-shirt and relishing the way his muscles twitch beneath your fingertips. “It’ll look weird if we leave together, and I need to pee, anyway.”

Jungkook grins and catches your wrists, swooping down to plant a quick kiss on your mouth. “As you wish,” he says, offering you a playful wink.

Then he’s straightening back up to his full height, checking his pockets and running a hand through his mussed hair. You watch as he walks over to the door, putting his ear against it for a few seconds before determining that the coast is clear and slipping out into the hallway. As the door clicks shut behind him, you hear someone—you’re pretty sure it’s a drunk Yugyeom—greet him with a resounding clap on the back. “Dude, where have you been all night? We’re getting our asses handed to us. Minho and Taemin are winning.”

“Sorry, man,” Jungkook half-shouts, and you realize that he’s making sure you can hear him. “Come on. Let’s go get that crown.”

Leaning against the door, you listen as their voices recede down the hallway. You count to five, and then to ten when your thumping heart refuses to slow. At nineteen, it finally calms down—enough that you feel comfortable leaving the laundry room and slipping into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

There’s a massive crowd gathered in the dining room by the time you rejoin the party, and you easily slip unnoticed into the mass of people eagerly watching the final round of the beer pong tournament. Jungkook stands at the far end of the table beside Yugyeom, poised to throw.

He catches your eye at the same time he releases the ball with a flick of his wrist, a knowing smirk settling on his face as triumphant cheers break out all around you.

///

It’s well after midnight by the time the party begins to wind down. Chaeyoung and Lisa are nowhere to be found, and several other girls are lingering near the front door saying their goodbyes before heading out. You find yourself seated on the couch between Jimin and Minho, watching as the latter helps clean up by hurling beer cans at the wastebasket on the other end of the room.

“Man, no wonder you suck at pong.” Jungkook walks into the room and plops down on an end table, a faded cardboard Burger King crown sitting rakishly on his head. “Want me to show you how the champs do it?”

Minho snorts. “Fuck off, man, you barely won that second game. Besides, we totally would’ve won if Taemin hadn’t spent half the time staring at Lisa’s tits.”

Taemin, who’s perched on a corner of the coffee table, raises his hands innocently. “Hey, don’t look at me. I scored most of the points that round.”

Minho huffs irritably and tosses another can at the wastebasket, cursing when it bounces off the rim. Taehyung wanders in and picks it up, throwing it back at Minho before squeezing into the miniscule amount of space between you and Jimin on the couch.

“Jesus, Tae,” you grunt, shifting to give him more room. The movement tilts you toward Minho, smushing you against his side, and he shoots you a playful grin and a wink.

“Cozy?”

“Cozy,” you confirm with a laugh.

“Good,” he says, freeing his arm and throwing it across the back of the couch to give you a little more space. “It’s nice having you around again, Noona.”

Jungkook’s head whirls around so quickly you fear he might have given himself whiplash. His stare zeroes in on Minho’s arm, eyes narrowing at the proximity, but the other boy remains blissfully unaware as he leans back against the couch cushions. Subtly, you lean forward, trying to put some distance between your bodies.

“It’s nice to be back,” you tell him. “It feels like I missed so much, but at the same time, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

“Choi’s aim sure hasn’t changed,” Yugyeom remarks from the doorway with a handful of empty beer bottles. “Still can’t land a shot, even after all these years.” Raising a bottle, he hefts it toward the wastebasket, smirking in satisfaction when it sinks perfectly inside the can.

“And not just with pong,” Taemin goads. “How did things go with Sana again?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Like you’re one to talk. Besides, we’d all probably stand a better chance if Jeon over there would leave some girls for the rest of us.”

“You’re just jealous because Sana likes him better than she likes you,” Taehyung says with a snicker. “Yo, Jeon! Didn’t you guys make it to third base at Jackson’s party?”

Your stomach sinks as all eyes in the room turn to Jungkook, whose eyes go wide at the sudden attention. “What?”

“Sa. Na,” Taehyung repeats, emphasizing each syllable. “Hottest girl in our year? Third base at Jackson’s? Or are you having a hard time remembering since you wound up leaving with Jihyo?”

Yugyeom chortles as he plops down onto the carpeted floor. “Fuck, man, I forgot about that. Jesus. Just last year you were still shitting yourself at the thought of talking to a girl. Who knew you secretly had so much game?”

The room is beginning to feel stifling. Every breath you take feels like you’re inhaling ash, like a volcano that has lain dormant for ages has suddenly and without warning erupted inside your chest.

He’s playing you. And even worse, it seems that this is a game he’s played before—many times, if his friends are to be believed. Your stomach turns at the thought.

From his perch on the end table, Jungkook scoffs out a stilted, staccato note. “Right. I guess any nonzero number would seem high to you guys, huh?”

Loud jeers break out from the surrounding boys, and you do your best to melt back into the couch cushions. The way you’re squished between Taehyung and Minho makes it impossible for you to find any leverage to stand, so you settle for leaning your head back and staring at the stucco ceiling, willing your heartbeat to slow. Gradually, the noise of the party fades into the background, as do the voices of your brother and his friends. It’s only when Jimin pokes your shoulder, singsonging your name, that you break out of your trance.

“What? Huh?”

“The lake house,” Jimin says, looking at you as if you’re stupid. “You down?”

You can only blink at him, repeating the words back to him dumbly. “The lake house?”

Jimin raises a brow. “Yeah, the lake house. You know, our lake house? The one we drive up to every summer? Where we’ve been vacationing since we were like, five?”

You scowl when he pinches your cheek like you’re a child again. “Yeah, I got that. What about it?”

A snort. “Jeez, have you been listening at all, Noona? We’re talking about going up there for a few days.”

“Oh,” you croak. Unwillingly, you find yourself glancing over at Jungkook, your face growing warm when you see him staring right back, his expression careful and composed. “Right.”

“You should come, Noona,” Taemin pipes up. “You’re here for the next few weeks, right? Might as well have some fun.”

“I don’t know—” you begin, but Jimin cuts you off with a raised finger and another pinch to your cheek.

“You can’t just do homework the whole time you’re here,” he says. “Come with us, Noona. Live a little.”

“It’ll help get your mind off your internship, too,” Jungkook remarks softly. “You deserve a break. Just a few days won’t hurt.”

The fact that he remembers your internship woes shouldn’t make your heart lurch. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help the way your chest swells dangerously. “Fine,” you concede, reaching over Taehyung to pinch Jimin’s cheek in retaliation. “I’ll come, I guess.”

Taehyung and Taemin cheer, and Minho wraps his arm around your shoulder and squeezes you tight. “We should invite the other girls,” he points out, chuckling when you splutter for air in his ironclad grasp and try in vain to shake him off. “Don’t want it to be a total sausage fest.”

“Penis party is a much better term,” Taehyung interjects helpfully. “It’s alliterative.”

“You want alliterative? How about a cock carnival?” Jimin supplies, before doubling over in giggles.

You huff, exasperated at the ludicrous turn in conversation. “I can’t believe I’m coming with you guys.”

Minho snickers. “Title of your sex tape,” he jokes, punctuating it with a suggestive eyebrow waggle that sobers your brother up immediately. Jimin straightens up and fixes Minho with a glare, and despite your brother’s smaller stature, the older boy still shrinks back slightly.

“Dude, that’s my sister.”

Minho raises his hands apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Automatic response. My bad.”

You just roll your eyes. “Are you twelve? God. I don’t know how the girls put up with any of you.”

Gradually, the night draws to a close. The number of people milling about dwindles, and Taehyung fiddles with his phone, letting out a satisfied hum when he finds the playlist he wants. The music transforms into something low and smooth, the soft R&B beat filling the room. You feel your eyes begin to droop.

“We should probably head home,” Jimin says, stretching his arms lazily overhead. “Noona here has to get her beauty sleep, and I don’t feel like carrying her back if she falls asleep here.”

“Shut up, Chim,” you mumble, but there’s no real bite in your tone. Jimin just chuckles and stands up, tugging on your hand until you’re on your feet as well. Jungkook straightens up too, and together, you bid farewell to the others and head for the door.

“{Name}, wait a second.”

You turn at the sound of Jisoo’s voice, tilting your head curiously as she lays a gentle hand on your arm and ushers you off to the side. “Yeah?”

Jisoo casts a furtive glance around the hallway, lowering her voice to a murmur. “I see what’s going on with Jungkook,” she whispers once she’s sure the coast is clear.

You stiffen, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you manage to find your voice again. “You… you saw us?”

She nods. “He’s been watching you all night—it’d honestly be harder not to notice. I just…” She sighs and looks around again, missing the relief that must be etched across your expression as her gaze lingers on where Jungkook and Jimin are loitering by the door. “…just be careful, okay? Jungkook—he’s changed this past year. I mean, I don’t know if all the rumors are true, but… he’s not the same guy you probably remember. He went out with Chae for a few weeks, did she tell you that?”

At your look of horror, she sighs. “Figures. She hides it well, but I know she’s still torn up about how he ended it after they slept together. So watch out for him, okay? He’s a heartbreaker. And he never, ever stays until the morning.”

Every word that leaves her mouth stings, but you don’t let that show on your face. Instead, you force a smile and pat her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell her. “I’m not going to get involved with him.”

You repeat that to yourself the whole way home, trying not to focus on the young man a few paces away and the way you can still taste him on your tongue.

[cades-outsider]

Older Daniel LaRusso X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of SMUT! VERY LIGHT SMUT! POSSIBLY LANGUAGE!

The past is Present; 2

Nothing much really happened on the way back to the dealer ship, it was mostly silence but comfortable silence. Daniel came to terms that he knew what he done was wrong but did he regret it? No.

It felt right, on both sides. I mean yeah Daniel didn't know how this would work, but he knew he wanted you to be apart of his life and you knew you wanted him to be apart of your life.

"So are we going to talk about what happened?" Daniel questions bashfully.

"Daniel....-" You sigh guiltily "-that love we had never went away for me, but you have a family and I can't ruin that" You say feeling the guilt of what happened rush through your veins.

You didn't regret what happened at all, and neither did Daniel hit the guilt hit hard especially since you didn't want to break up a family.

  "I know Y/n, that love never went away for me either. I was a mess after you moved, and these past twenty years I spent sulking because I missed every part of you" He finishes, finally getting the words he always wanted out.

  You pull into the dealer ship, taking the keys out of the ignition and stepping out of the car Daniel doing so as well.

  "Can't we just sneak around...?" Daniel suggests as if it's nothing.

"Daniel...." You start but he cuts you off.

"I know what you're going to say, and I agree but I can't help that my heart pulls me to you Y/n. I love you and I'll say it over and over again" He pleads.

  His brown eyes pleading yours, you couldn't help but smile "i love you Daniel".

  "So does that mean?" He gestures between you to, as his expression becomes happy.

  "Yes it does" You smile.

  "Great! I'll pick you up at eight!" Daniel says as he walks up to you and hands you the keys.

  "And this one is on me, from that time you saved me and I never got to repay you back" He says as you remember the time another round of bullies almost beat him to a pulp and then you stepped in.

  "Daniel that's sweet but I told you-"

  "I know 'you didn't need any repaying'" He recites.

You giggle, "alright, then thank you Mr. LaRusso" You tease.

He shakes his head "you still got it" he compliments.

You smirk "always".

"So what should I wear?" You ask politely.

"Come as your beautiful self Ms. L/n" Daniel teases.

You shake your head "that sounds fair" you determine.

"I'll see you at 8" You recite from earlier as Daniel begins to walk backwards, still keeping his eyes on you.

"At eight!" He repeats as he finally walks closer to the dealer ship "oh and I'll bring the paper work!" He finishes.

"Sounds good!" You say as you get into your new car, ready to start an exciting adventure with your first and only love.

  On the way back to your apartment everything just seemed so much alive. You felt much more alive, it had been years since you seen Daniel and even though your both going to be together in different circumstances you still enjoyed it.

Time flew by fast, eight o'clock rolled around the corner in what felt like just minutes. You were already ready, your most fanciest dress that brought out your piercing eyes.

Soon there was a knock on your door, with a last nervous sigh you open the door to see a nervous looking Daniel in a black tuxedo.

"Looking good Mr. LaRusso" You tease.

He looks up from looking at the ground "wow- I- you look beautiful as always Y/n" he says baffled.

"Charming as always Daniel" You say remember you and Daniel when you were younger.

He chuckles and holds out his hand for you to take which you do so, closing your door behind you.

  He walks you to his car and opens the passenger door letting you in, before going to his side and getting in. Cranking the car up he begins driving to your destination. "So where are we headed Mr. LaRusso?" You question, curiously.

  "Well Ms. L/n, that I cannot reveal seeing as it is a surprise" He replies causing you to giggle, classic Daniel always full of surprises.

A few minutes later you arrived at a small cabin that was lit up with fairy lights and lightening bugs flying around. "Wow..." you gasp at the beautiful sight in front of you.

Daniel gets out of his side of the car and goes to yours, opening the door for you. You step out and Daniel grabs your hand helping you up.

"It's beautiful" You say mesmerized as Daniel shuts the door.

"I thought you'd think so, I know when we were younger you loves these fairy lights" He comments, with a huge smile.

"Of course you remembered" You giggle playfully.

"Come on, let's go in shall we" Daniel asks holding his hand out for you to take, which you do so.

He leads you into the lit up cabin, the first the you see is a fire in the fireplace and a pic-nick like setting on the wooden table.

He leads you over to the table, sitting you down as he grabs two wine glasses and a bottle of wine. He pops it open, pouring some in each glass.

"Here you are my lady" Daniel says with a playful smile, handing it to you.

  You offer him a kind smile before taking the glass, "to good times and new memories" He says holding up his glass clinking it with yours.

  "To new memories" You recite happily.

  Both in sync you take a sip causing you both to smile at each-other, "so where do we catch-up at?" You question.

"Well-" He takes a seat beside you "-how about we start... when you left" Daniel states, taking another sip of wine.

"Daniel... that was one of the hardest times for me, leaving you" You say guiltily.

"Y/n, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you just- leave?" He asks heartbroken as his voice cracks up a bit.

"Daniel I am so sorry for not telling you, I just didn’t want to see the look on your face when I told you" You say feeling all the guilt rush at once.

"So leaving was better than spending the last day we would’ve had together?" He questions almost angrily.

"Daniel that would’ve made it harder, for the both of us" You reason.

"Oh so you’re saying it would’ve been a mistake?" He asks going off topic.

"What? No! Of course not, where did you get that from?" You question, now heated.

Daniel sighs as he sits his glass down, he gets up from his seat and walks to you grabbing your glass and sitting it down as well. He rests his hands on both of the armrests hovering over you

"Why don’t you make it up to me now" He hums.

Your breathing hitches as you subconsciously lean back into the chair causing Daniel to follow your lead, your body’s touching.

He leans closer to you and places his lips on yours, you lean your body into his as he rests his hands on your waist pulling you closer. He picks you up causing your legs to wrap around his waist.

"Let me make love to you Y/n"

MORNING

You wake up with a groan as the light shines through the room, you turn over to your side to see Daniel laying on his side facing you, he looks so peaceful.

The sound of an alarm goes off causing Daniel to snuggle closer to you before hitting the alarm shutting it off "good morning love" he groans in his morning voice.

"Good morning" You say lovingly as you sit up, revealing your naked chest.

Daniel sits up and getting on top of you kissing down your neck to your chest causing you to laugh at his action.

-

Over the course of three months you and Daniel snuck around here and there, You both almost got caught one time when Daniel couldn’t contain himself and you both had let’s say deli vu of what happened back at the cabin three months prior.

Everything was going great until Daniel came to you with some important news as he called it. He places a document of papers in front of you causing you to furrow your brows.

"What are these?" You question letting your eyes run over the documents.

"It’s uh divorce papers, Amanda already signed them- she uh actually came to me and confessed that she wasn’t in love with me anymore and I admitted to being in love with you and we both decided to uh- separate" Daniel confesses as he feels his heart beat out of his chest, waiting for your response.

"Daniel- I uh don’t know what to say" You say speechless.

"I want to be with you Y/n" He says sitting down in front of you.

"I want to be with you to Daniel but what about Sam, and Anthony" You question confused.

"That’s already been taking care of, Sam wants to stay with me and Anthony- he wants to stay with Amanda" He confesses, his piercing brown eyes staring into yours.

"Okay" You say still hesitant.

"Okay?" Daniel questions happily.

"Okay!" You say smiling, now completely sure.

"Let’s finish our journey baby"

_______________________________________________

Thank you to @peachymelon69 for requesting a part 2!

[sainz-zayn]

Anagapesis

Anagapesis (n.) no longer feeling any affection for someone you once loved

Warnings: cheating please if you're sensitive towards this kind of topic please don't read it, alcohol usage, suggestive and sexual themes, toxic relationship, swearing, cheating is not good please don`t take this seriously in real life.

Word count: 5k+

Disclaimer: All Characters and events in this story even those based on real people are entirely fictional.

"Tell me have you ever love me!?" I whispered timidly.

"I've never loved you not even once!" He answered.

Those words came out from his beautiful lips like nothing ever happened between the two of us.

"Leave! I hate you!" my tears starts to fall from my eyes. I`ve never felt this broken before but the one and only Jung Jaehyun made me feel like my heart is shattered into pieces.

Well, how did it all started?

Sitting on my chair signing a contract all day long is hella hectic and surely stressful. I surely need an award tonight for this, maybe going out with the girls tonight is one of the greatest ideas.

Arriving at the club, a tall handsome man with great features already attracts my attention. The both of us checking out each other shamelessly is a wholesome scenery for my best friend.

"Looks like my best friend took a liking at someone huh?" Yoona said, then she  smirk at me before handing me a glass of wine. I rolled my eyes at her playfully.

"Why, do you know him?" I asked her as my attention goes back to where the man is sitting while talking to a girl, who I assumed is his girlfriend.

"No, I don't know him but my boyfriend Johnny surely does. his name is Jaehyun, Jung Jaehyun to be exact." Yoona exclaimed as I drink my fourth glass of wine.

"Johnny do you know the girl beside him?" I asked. 

"Yeah, that's his girlfriend Yerim. I kinda don't like her though. Want me to introduce you to him?" Duh, Yes, I`d like to. 

"Sure" but before I can stand up, Jaehyun is already walking towards our table  then he greets Johnny and do their handshake.

"You look like you've gotten into a fight" I said eyeing him, Jaehyun. 

"I'm Mayjun, Han Mayjun. Nice to meet you Mr. Handsome" I wink at him before grabbing another drink. He noticed that I`m flirting so he decided to go with it.

"I'm Jaehyun, Johnny's best friend and yeah... me and my girlfriend fought earlier" Jaehyun sighed then I gave him a glass of wine.

"Here drink this" 

 Yoona and Johnny told us that they are gonna dance for a bit. Tsk, a bit my ass huh. I know that they will be gone for a whole night.

"I guess we're alone now" He said then smirked.  Because of that decided to tease him.

"That guy kinda looks hot don't you think so?" 

"Tsk" Jaehyun replied.

"Awe is someone`s jealous now Mr.handsome?" I playfully chuckle.

"Wanna go for a dance?" I asked him making my way to the dance floor.

"Sure wait for m-" before he could finish talking I already started dancing. swinging my hips to the beat seductively while looking at him deep in the eyes makes him feel some kind of things that he shouldn't be feeling at this point.

 "You have a girlfriend for fuck sake Jaehyun" he  murmured under his breath but I heard it. 

He lost it when I and bite my lips. He approach me and holds my hips like I`m his. Everything happened so fast his soft plump lips are kissing mine roughly while I`m slowly grinding against his hard erected manhood.

That's how I ended waking up on Jaehyun's bed early in the morning in his masculine pair of arms. Wrapped around your waist just how I want it to be.

I faced him and greeted by a half-naked Jaehyun making me blush so hard.

"Like what you see?" He said mockingly while slowly showing his beautiful dimple that makes me love him more. This is wrong but it feels so right. Well, bad feels good, good feels bad.

He stands up making me see a more clearer view of his muscular body.

"I-i know this is wrong. I'm sorry for seducing you I am sorry we're both drunk last night and you know it too." I look down shyly and guilt is washing over my  body.

"Hey, what are you saying!? You don't need to be sorry. We both chose to do this and we're gonna continue it." He hugs my waist. I look at his eyes and pissed is clearly written all over his face.

"But you have a girlfriend I can't share a man with that girl!" I rolled my eyes at him. I push him through his chest and that made him more pissed off.

"We already did it so what's the point of turning back!?" He pinned me to the wall harshly making me hiss in pain before crashing his lips to mine. Without knowing you kissed him back. After a minute of our hot make-out session he pulled you into his embrace.

"So?" He whispered.

"Fine let's continue it, it's not like I don`t have a choice" I sigh before putting on my clothes.

"Stay I'll cook breakfast" He demand.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No, I will not!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, you will" he said while approaching you.

"Jaehyun I'm already late. I'm the company`s CEO, I don't have a choice it's been a hectic week for our company."

"How about a dinner tonight?" He asked while fixing the watch on his wrist. Dinner sounds good.

"Okay, I'll eat dinner with you" I gave him a peck on his lips before leaving his house.

Sighing at myself, I rub my temples softly if yesterday was hella hectic then today is hella hell. A meeting here and there a contract to sign. I don't even get to eat lunch. I only have coffee and a subway burger that my secretary gave. 

I watch as the sun set a lot happened in a day. When the realization hits me, I don't even give Jaehyun my number nor my address. I consciously think of a way to contact him but it all stops when a soft knock interrupts my thoughts.

"Come in" I said clearing my throat, as my office door opens I see a glimpse of Jaehyun`s side profile.

"H-how?" I tried to remember if I gave him my address but no. 

I can`t recall anything. I stand up and he opens his arms for me to hug him but I walk pass him.

"Hey, I'm right here as you can see" he furrowed his eyebrows at me.

"duh! I know that I'm not blind" but deep inside I`m thinking how the heck he found out where I am.

"if you`re thinking how I get here, it`s because I tell my secretary to find you and here I am" Jaehyun admires my office for a bit. His taste is kinda similar to mine I think.

"by the way since last night I still didn't introduce my self properly I`m Jung Jaehyun the owner and CEO of Neo tech enterprises" Jaehyun smirk at my reaction.

 I can`t believe it the one whom I hook up with last night is one of the richest men I`ve ever know. His the owner of the number one technology company in South Korea with a New York branch. My company is ranked top 2 before his.

"and? that doesn`t change the fact that you`re cheating on your girlfriend with me." I huff in annoyance as the word "your girlfriend" slides to my tongue bitterly.

"I'm not here to argue with you okay? I`m here to have dinner with you. Now if you don`t want me here then bye" I`m shocked at his sudden change but you won`t easily chase him and lose. He wants to play? then let's play. But after thinking you decide not to play hard to get.

"Jaehyun I'm sorry okay? I-I`m just stress." then he smiles knowing that he already win. 

"Okay now don`t just stand there and let`s go." he emotionlessly said.

It`s been almost 4 months my relationship with Jaehyun is still going on. Everyone notices the tension every time we have a friend gathering. of course, we hook up here and there or whenever he wants to but today is different this past few weeks it`s like he been avoiding me. Not like the old days he always takes me to date and cuddles with me. He always makes me feel love, my friends already warn me that I might regret what we`re doing now in the future but I could care less.

Admiring my expensive dress in the mirror I sure do look mesmerizing, I always do. Many men are ready to give their love to me, many of them have already court me but none of them is in my standard. Yes I admit it I`m a picky and choosy person when it comes to my love life or personal affair but what can I do? when there is only one Jung Jaehyun in the world. The thought of him with another woman is making me jealous but that's not the point you already have him wrapped around your fingers. You're Han Mayjun and what Mayjun want, Mayjun get. You have it all powers, wealth, beauty, and most importantly Jung Jaehyun one of the richest and handsome men you've ever known. 

While sipping my favorite wine, I heard a light knock from my door assuming that it`s jaehyun but I remind myself that it`s not him because he already told me that he`s going to the gala with his girlfriend. Yeah, the girlfriend who he always takes to the gala with him. Because of this we argue with each other and I didn`t hear anything from him in 2 days but what can you do about it your relationship with him is all hidden from the public.

"Come in" the door open and my date for the night who is my Ex Jungwoo. I gotta admit, it took me so long to move on from him because of what happened between the two of us. He just suddenly leave me like nothing ever happened between the two of us. He leaves me without saying goodbye. almost 3 years ago he goes to the US to take over his dad company and comeback after a year and us two got into good chemistry and became a best friend that`s why he`s the one who I choose to be my date tonight at the gala. 

"Pleasure to meet you my love" Jungwoo holds my hand and kisses the top of it gently. It makes my heart flutter, I gotta hide it.

"No need to be so polite you know, I miss you Kim Jungwoo" I give him a big teddy bear hug who he accepts gladly. I take my time hugging Jungwoo it`s like his my comfort. The moment stops when his assistant interrupts us.

" Sir we have to go or we`ll be late for tonight's event" Jungwoo`s assistant clearly said for the both of us to hear.

"Shall we princess?" He smiles teasingly and I hate it. But I also find comfort in it.

"Oh, come on Woo stop with the pet names and let`s go" Slapping his arms playfully we go straight to Jungwoo`s car going to the Gala. It only takes a minute to arrive. Jungwoo immediately go outside of the car to open it for me and a thousand of lights flicking and clicking towards our direction. and Jung-woo shield me from it before walking in the red carpet we post while his arms are wrapped around my waist. Tomorrow the both of us will be surely the hit topic on social media and magazines almost in all newspaper headlines. Because they all know about our public relationship how it works out and how it ended.

I go inside the building with Jungwoo beside me and I see our group of friends waving at us and we approached them. I heard a whistle from Lucas and Yuqi my best friend. They started dating weeks ago, Lucas is Jaehyun`s best friend and Yuqi is my long-time friend just like Yoona.

"You look sexy tonight babe" Yuqi honestly said and all of them agreed. I`m  kinda shock that Lucas and Jungwoo know each other, almost all of them know each other.

Y`all are having fun talking to each other or whoever approach our table. Every minute, different Ceo. My friends notice that almost all of them is flirting with me but I shrugged it off and go on with having fun when the atmosphere suddenly changes. I turn around only to see Jaehyun approaching our table. He looks good tonight his hair is neatly done, the tuxedo that his wearing fits him well. Jungwoo notices the way that I look at Jaehyun. I used to look at him like that too. Sometimes he wonders what if he didn`t leave and break your heart? maybe I will still gonna be his.

-*-

Jaehyun is looking at you without thinking about others. He just wants to hug you, kiss you, and feel you on his body. But this day guilt is been washing all over his body that`s why he's trying to distance himself from you and he feels sorry for that but knowing that you go here with Jungwoo, makes him feels some kind of things that might not help in this kind of situation.

"Yow, what`s up dude?" mark happily greets him and invited him to sit he also knows what`s going on between the two of you. 

"Where`s Yerim?" Seulgi asks while the others shift their attention to Seulgi and Jaehyun, yeah you`re curious to where is Yerim? doesn`t she come here with jaehyun?

"She`s in the restroom" Jaehyun replies to them they ask him more things but he can only think about you, do you think about him too? the answer is probably yes but you can`t bring yourself to look at him you`re scared that you might cry in front of them and your pride will not let you.

"Hi babe sorry I need to go to the restroom and leave you alone" and that`s when Jaehyun finally talks normally and not dryly he`s usually not like this towards his friend but tonight is really different.

-*-

"It's okay baby come and sit here with me" my group of friends cheers for them playfully and that`s when I finally look at him with jealousy burning in my eyes. Everyone suddenly stops cheering realizing what`s going on between the two of us. Jaehyun smirked at me and this time I hate it. he wants to play a game? then let`s play.

I didn`t hesitate to roll my eyes at him and I turn to my side to face Jungwoo who is now in his 5th drink.

"Baby slow down you`re getting tipsy" I know that Jung-woo has a high alcohol tolerance but the show must go on. 

"I`m fine baby don't worry" Jungwoo only grins at me making you soft. When he suddenly gave you a peck on the lips, and you gave him one too. Oh, I know how much Jaehyun hates hearing somebody else calls me baby. Because he`s the only one who called me that. 

"Hey, you two if you`re going to get back together then don`t make it long! just do it." Yoona said making Yuqi, and Seulgi coo with their boyfriend. Jaehyun hates how you blush with their sudden statement but little did you know everyone is doing it on purpose so that Jaehyun can get jealous.

Jungwoo whispers in my ears, asking me if I wanna go home too but I hesitate.

"If you`re uncomfortable right now, I can take you home" I hesitantly look around and you see everyone talking about business, and you look at Jaehyun to only see him avoiding Yerim`s touch. My plan work I thought so I decided it`s better if I let Jungwoo take me home.

"Guys we`re going home now” Jungwoo and me bid our Goodbye to them and other businessmen in the party.

"okay, make sure you drive well Jungwoo if anything happens to my best friend I`ll kill you" Yuqi said before the both of us go outside to Jungwoo`s car.

We arrive at my house and I thank Jungwoo for helping me out tonight, and for driving me home. I don`t know why, but I`m excited to know if anything will happen tonight.

I go to my room to change into my night sleepwear. Silk shorts and an over size shirt to make me comfortable.

 Someone suddenly loudly knocks in the door making you startled.

"who`s there!?" 

"Just fucking open the door Mayjun!"

I hear his voice and that`s enough to know who he is. Opening the door a soft pair of lips land to mine kissing me roughly as if there's no tomorrow for it.

“Jaehyun stop! I`m tired!” I tried to push him but he`s stronger than me. He pinned me to the wall harshly, leaving wet kisses on my neck.

"Do you think ignoring me is fun!?" Silence.

"Do you think making me jealous with your  jerk ex is fun huh!?" Silence.

"Talk to me for Fuck sake! Don`t give me cold shoulders, look at me just once. Fuck just fuck this!" and that is my breaking point I can`t stand this argument anymore.

"I already told you Jaehyun that I`m tired so what`s the point of arguing here!?" am i scared? yes, I`m scared of him when he`s mad but I can`t let him win this time. He look so hot when he's mad but I can set that aside.

"Why does he already fuck you that`s why you`re tired?" He`s really mad now. No, he`s furious right now. He has said a hurtful and harsh word to me in the past but he never degrade me like this. I can`t let him belittle and look down on me. With the power I had, I slap him.

"You`re always like this when you`re jealous but today!? I don`t even know you, you only call for me whenever you need me. And when you need someone to comfort you or to fulfill your needs. I`m not you`re fucking toy Jaehyun!" I finally cried out and I said the unspoken words to him but at this point, he doesn`t know what to feel anymore he let his anger took over him.

"So what do you want me to do? always go to you!? for fuck sake we don`t even have a label Mayjun wake up! I have a girlfriend and you know that. You`re just someone I know who can fulfill my needs" He yells at me making me break into tears more.

"So that`s what I am to you? someone who can just fulfill your needs?"  you yell back and now I don`t even know what to do. I need to confirm something and his answer is what I need.

"T-tell me have you ever love me!?" I whispered timidly.

"I`ve never loved you not even once!" Those words coming out of his beautiful lips like nothing ever happened between the two of us.

"Leave! I hate you!" My tears starts falling from my eyes. I`ve never felt this broken before but the one and only Jung Jaehyun made you feel like your heart is shattered into pieces.

"If I didn`t make a move on you that night you`ll probably not gonna figure out that the girlfriend you love cheated on you first." his eyes widen in shock.

"Say that again!" 

"I said what I said Jaehyun, now leave!" He turned around and slam the door shut.

 -*-

He`s really sorry and guilty for what he said to you during the argument. All of that? he didn`t mean it and knowing that his girlfriend cheated on him first makes him sadder. That night the both of you spend the cold night without each other embrace crying all night silently. 

-*-

I should have listened to what my friend already warned me. But I`m thankful for them for supporting me after finding out that Yerim is not as good as we think.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun is crying his eyes and heart out in the middle of the night he`s blaming his self for hurting you.

 "I'm such an asshole!" He groaned and run his finger through his hair. 

he regrets all the things he said to you he cry and cry just like you. He throws all the things that he grabs on the floor making his hands bleed. But he could care less. There`s only one thing that he knows, he will get you back no matter what it takes. that night he called Yerim and break up with her.

-*-

It's been three days and I let my secretary do the works while I`m gone. A one-week break won`t hurt anyone when I`m the the one hurting right?

"Yoona can you please come to my place right now? I really need you right now" I try hard to hide my sob making Yoona concern but what can she do? she`s in the Maldives right now arranging her wedding with Johnny.

"Babe I`m sorry, I know you can overcome it. You`re a strong person Mayjun and you know it too. I`m sorry that I`m not on your side right to comfort you, I have to go Mayjun please eat well and take care of yourself the wedding is in a few days I love you!" and the line got disconnected even though Yoona is away from me she always makes sure that I`m okay. 

Suddenly the door of your room opens widely.

"Please didn`t I tell you that I want to be alone!" Not bothering to turn around because you thought that it was your brother Seojun.

 But no, the person who enters my room suddenly pulls me into a tight hug whispering comforting words to my ears. I know it`s Jungwoo he always does this when I need comfort. Without hesitating I let my emotions come out because I know that Jungwoo will not judge me.

"H-how?" I ask him between my sobs.

"Shh... Yoona called me and told me everything. It`ll be fine Mayjun I`m here" Jungwoo pats my back back softly to make me comfortable.

"J-Jung-woo why? am I not worthy enough to be loved? why do they always leave me?" 

"Hey, princess listen you`re beautiful, you`re worthy. I`m sorry for hurting you, I`m sorry that we hurt you" He kissed the top of my head and he let me fall asleep on his arms. 

A soft smile is written all over his face, he hopes that no one will hurt you anymore. He knows that you love Jaehyun dearly even though it hurts him he will help you get back together.

-*-

 6 days already passed and Jaehyun can`t focus on his work. You`re all he could think about he knows that he can see you on the wedding day but were you ready to face him? he`s scared that you might not even let him get close to you. so he keeps himself from working and working until he's exhausted.

Me on the other side is getting ready for my flight I will go there with Yuqi, Lucas and all of Nct members. It`s what they called the group, group of young tech CEO and one of the finest and richest men in South Korea.

"You don`t need to be nervous Mayjun. We`re here don`t worry" Yuta smile at me reassuringly. I sighed and after a long flight we headed to our designated car taking you to a beautiful beach. 

“You should enjoy this day Mayjun, you need to relax” I said and to myself. I hear my brother Seojun calling me from afar. And yeah, he`s still single is he?

I look around and I make eye contact with whom I want to see from the start but can`t admit it. I quickly look away, I try to find Yoona only to see her at her hotel room. Y`all girls are in the same room and it makes me feel at ease. 

"I think we should get wasted tonight!" Seulgi said happily and we agree with the idea. 

"We should celebrate before the wedding because this is the last day that we will call you Ms. Im. Because tomorrow you`re gonna be Mrs. Suh" I wink at her and y`all agree with the idea. So I change my clothes, I wear a sundress before going out with the girls and I avoid any interaction with Jaehyun.

-*-

"Johnny, do you think she will forgive me?" Jaehyun asks his friend while looking up in the sky feeling the cold breeze.

"Jaehyun I know what you did is wrong but let`s hope that she will forgive you just give her sometimes" Johnny then pats Jaehyun`s shoulder before giving him a small smile. 

"I have a plan and I`m determined to do this but I need your help" said Jaehyun.

Jaehyun then tells all the boys his plan for tomorrow and they`re more glad to help him out because they can see and feel how you love each other dearly.

-*-

It`s past midnight and  and the other girls are still having fun dancing and drinking until we get wasted. I drink a lot compared to them and they try to stop me but I just keep on dancing until all the girls got drunk. 

 Johnny suddenly realize that y`all are in the club and the boys got worried so they try to find y`all. Only to find all of us dancing like a sexy goddess, they hate how other men stare at my hips.

"Jaehyun you get Mayjun. Me, Lucas, and Mark will get them" Johnny goes to Yoona to cover her with his jacket and the others do the same.

"Oh, guys look it`s Jaehyun! doesn`t he look so handsome?" I grin at them making them laugh because I`m really not myself right now.

"Yeah, it` me now let`s go you need to take some rest" He clung me into his arms and I hug him tightly as I could. "Baby I can` breathe"

"Let`s stay like this for a minute please." I softly said.

"I miss you, you know every day I`m always thinking about you" I said while my  eyes are floating in tears. Making them all silent they just let me because they know how badly I was hurt. Yuqi, Yoona, and Seulgi is sobber now but here I am are crying in front of them.

"I miss you so much, my day is not complete without thinking of you. Everything reminds me of you even though you hurt me even though you didn`t love me I`m so thankful that I met you" I said weakly while softly caressing his face, tears is visible on his eyes too.

"No, all I said to you was a lie since the day that I met you I`m ready to risk everything for you that`s when I realize that cheating is my choice thank you for completing half of me thank you for letting me know that she cheated on me first I Love You so much Mayjun" I slowly nod at everything he explained to me and I gave him a peck on his lips.

 He wish, no, everyone wishes that you will remember all of this tomorrow. Your friends can`t help it that they start to tear up too.

It`s 6:00 am now and here I am comforting and thanking Yoona for staying by my side and I tell her not to get nervous.

"Yoona it`s okay you`ve been waiting for this, this is one of your biggest dreams and it came true now I`m so happy for you" I hug her as I admire her in her dress she looks beautiful and she always does.

_*_

On the other side of the room, there are the boys who are super chaotic they`re laughing and teasing Jaehyun and Johnny because of what happened last night but deep inside they`re so proud of each other.

"You`re getting married now Johnny I can`t believe it. And you`re marrying Yoona the woman of your life" Ten said while proudly smiling at him 

"Jung Jaehyun you better take care of Mayjun or else you know what will gonna happen" Jungwoo and Seojun said in unison they`re laughing at how they`re thinking the same thing.

"Hyung I`m the one who is supposed to say it!" Jungwoo said and Seojun only rolled his eyes at him.

"I heard you and Chaewon are dating" Jungwoo said making Seojun widen his eyes. He`s supposed to say it after the wedding but Jungwoo already said it.

"Kim Jungwoo you bastard!" Seojun glare at Jungwoo making everyone laugh in the room.

_*_

You may now kiss the bride. 

Y`all cheered for Johnny and Yoona when Yuta said. 

"G-guys J-jaehyun he got into an accident" Yuta is breathing heavily while saying it and I feel like my whole world stop.

" What!? How!?" I said.

 Concern is creeping up on my body. Yuta ask us to follow him and I run as fast as I can, I don`t really know where we`re going but I just keep following him. I want to see Jaehyun safe.

I run and run until I a see flower petals scattered in the sand with candles lighting the place up and I can`t help but to tear up. I turn around and I see my group of friends standing happily while holding a balloon that`s forming a word saying " Will you marry me"

And that`s when Jaehyun finally showed up while holding a bouquet of flower giving it to me while I cry, smiling at him he kneels in front of me and I cover my lips with my hands. I can`t help it but tears of joy are coming out from my eyes right now.

"Mayjun I know I hurt you, I know I said that I don`t love you but the truth is I`m scared. I`m scared that time that if I tell you my real feelings you will not love me back but I'm so fool to even think about your feelings. Now that I`m here and ready to give you more than my everything and stay with you" Jaehyun takes a deep breath to take more courage.

"Han Mayjun I Jung Jaehyun is asking you Will you marry me?" Jaehyun asks me wholeheartedly. And who am I to say no? when all of our friends are rooting for the both of us?

"Yes, Yes Jaehyun I`ll marry you" He put the diamond ring on my finger and he finally stands up and he spoon me around.

" I LOVE YOU JUNG JAEHYUN" I shout happily while showing my finger to my friends and they clap. 

They stand there proudly looking at us, This will not happen if they`re not here by our side. Strangers who watch the scene clap along with them and that`s how my story with Jung Jaaehyun starts again.

Always remember this "Everyone has a friend during each stage of life. But only lucky ones have the same friends in all stages of life.”

and that`s how Mayjun and Jaehyun with their friend life goes on.

[jrob64]

Self-promo Sunday - Reception Redos and Jellymoons, Chapter 5

This is the final chapter of my canon compliant story in which Emma and Killian get the reception and honeymoon they deserved. You can find the rest of the story on Tumblr: Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4

Or you can read it on ffn or Ao3

I have nearly 4 of ??? chapters written for my new Modern AU CS story titled “For the Sake of Henry”. I was planning to have it completely finished before I begin posting, but may start sooner once I have a bit more written, then post every other week or so. I’m still trying to decide and would appreciate input from readers as to which they prefer. 

But for now, enjoy Chapter 5 of “Reception Redos and Jellymoons”!

Rated: T

*********

Emma was a little disappointed the next morning when they didn’t wake up until late in the morning. 

“I was looking forward to seeing the sunrise,” she sighed. 

Killian kissed the crease that her frown was making between her eyebrows. “We have plenty of mornings to see it, Darling,” he soothed. “Sleeping in is enjoyable also, especially when we’ve been up rather late the last few nights.” He smirked at her and wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, you’re right, but I wouldn’t change any of it,” Emma smiled, stretching her arms above her head. 

After breakfast, they went exploring around the island. Every time they crested a hill or turned in a different direction, they saw another breathtaking view. They found several small waterfalls and were glad that they had worn their swimsuits under their clothes, so they could take advantage of the clear pools of water that were at the bottom of the falls. 

Early that evening found them relaxing together in the hammock. Killian had his right arm wrapped around Emma’s shoulder while she grasped the end of his left, stroking soft fingers across the scars there. This was nothing new to him as she had made it a habit of doing so, seeming to find it soothing for both of them. 

It had taken him a long time to ever let her see his damaged wrist because he’d always thought it to be ugly and repulsive. After Rumplestiltskin had taken off his hand, Smee had done his best to close the wound. Despite his efforts, he wasn’t skilled as a physician, so the scars were thick and jagged. They were a reminder to Killian of all that he had lost that fateful day on his ship, and how it had caused him to turn to a life bent on getting his revenge. 

When Emma had finally seen his arm without the brace, she had shown no signs of revulsion. She had simply studied it briefly before placing a kiss on his wrist. Ever since then, he had gotten more and more comfortable with letting her touch it. Over time, she had fallen into the habit of rubbing her fingers sweetly and lovingly over the raised scars. Every time she did, he marveled at the kind and caring woman that he had fallen in love with.  

“When we first met, would you have ever imagined that we would end up married, Love?” he asked. 

“You mean before or after I held a knife to your throat, and then left you chained up with a giant at the top of a beanstalk?”

Killian chuckled. “I think you were just trying to hide your feelings for me.”

“Oh yeah, that’s definitely what I was doing,” Emma snorted. “But to answer your question, no I wouldn’t have imagined it. My walls to protect my heart were so high at that time that I didn’t think anyone would be able to scale them. Falling in love wasn’t something that I ever expected to do, but I guess true love can’t be denied.”

Emma’s fingers moved their way up Killian’s body to rest below his heart, rubbing over the scar that lay there. This was another spot that she was drawn to caress, almost always sighing deeply as she remembered the anguish that she’d felt when she drove Excaliber through his body. No matter how many times he told her that she’d done the right thing, she still found it hard to forgive herself. 

He decided that a change of topic was in order, to pull his wife away from memories that sometimes overwhelmed her and started her thinking about regrets that she had. 

“What shall we do tomorrow, my love?” 

“Well, I really do want to see the sunrise.” Killian nodded in acknowledgement. “Then I think maybe we should try out those kayaks that we found in the storage shed. The one stream that we saw today would be perfect for that, don’t you think?” She twisted her head to look up at him. 

He nodded again and then kissed the tip of her nose. “Sounds like a plan.”

******

On their third morning on the island, Emma and Killian took a long walk along the beach to enjoy the sunrise. As they neared the house on their way back, Emma pulled her husband with her as she plopped down on the sand. 

“Can we just sit here for a little while before we go in to get breakfast?”

“Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise that’s all I want you to have.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek, then turned his eyes to the clear, blue water. “Perhaps this will be the morning that the dolphins make their appearance.”

Emma sighed. “I hope so.” As her eyes searched the horizon, she asked, “What animal would you say is your favorite?”

“I quite fancy the swan.”

Emma scoffed and bumped her shoulder into his. “I was being serious”

“As am I. I find them to be remarkable creatures. Have you ever seen a cygnet? They’re rather pathetic little things.”

 “Yeah, I know. Ugly Duckling, remember?”

“Aye, but they develop into elegant, magnificent animals. It’s lovely to see them gliding across the water, so gorgeous and strong, but needing the strength and support of their feet paddling below them to keep them afloat. Threaten a swan’s territory, and it becomes a fierce fighter, capable of defeating foes larger than itself.”

Killian was always eloquent in what he said, but in this instance, he was eloquent in what he wasn’t saying. She realized his description was a metaphor of her life. She was seemingly orphaned and unwanted as a child, but once she found her home, she fought fiercely for her family and those she loved. Of course, she had the support of her son, her parents, the townspeople, and now her husband. 

She affectionately bumped against his shoulder again, before leaning her head on it. The couple continued to sit quietly, watching the waves and feeling the sun warm their faces. After a while, Killian could tell by the rhythm of Emma’s breathing that she had dozed off. Suddenly, he caught something out of the corner of his eye.

“Swan, wake up,” he whispered urgently, as if speaking out loud would break the spell. 

She stirred beside him. “What is it?” she asked groggily. 

“Look!” He pointed off to their left. 

Emma directed her eyes to where he was pointing and gave a loud gasp. “Dolphins! Oh Killian! There they are!” 

She jumped to her feet and clasped her hands under her chin. Killian stood up beside her, watching the dolphins leaping and playing in the water. Then after a few moments, he turned his head to look at his wife. She stood mesmerized, wearing one of the biggest smiles he’d ever seen on her face. With the sun making her face glow and the breeze off the water blowing wisps of her hair into a halo around her head, he didn’t think he had ever seen her look more  beautiful. 

******

The next day, Killian finished cleaning up the kitchen after their lunch and then went outside to find his wife. She was sitting on the porch swing with a wistful look on her face. Without saying a word, he held a small seashell out to her.

“What’s this for?” Emma asked.

“Call Henry,” he said simply.

“You brought a shell phone along?”

“Aye, and Henry has the other one. I knew that you would miss the lad too much to go three weeks without any contact with him. He promised that he would carry the shell with him at all times so he wouldn’t miss your call.”

Emma eagerly took the shell and started calling Henry’s name into it. He answered almost immediately and Emma started peppering him with questions about his trip and his well-being. 

Killian sat and listened to his wife’s conversation with his stepson. It sounded like he was enjoying the trip immensely. Henry said that they had spent quite a bit of the first day or so in the car, which had led to some temper tantrums and meltdowns, but then Zelena had gotten herself under control pretty quickly. Emma couldn’t help letting out a loud laugh when he told her about that. 

When Henry finally signed off, Emma threw her arms around her husband, squeezing him tightly. “You really are the best, you know that?”

“Yes I do,” he replied cheekily. 

******

The days flew by while the couple enjoyed one adventure after another. The dolphins swam by regularly, almost as if they were swimming laps around the island and passed by them about every third morning. A few times they came close enough to shore for the humans to enjoy swimming among them. This thrilled Emma to no end, which caused Killian to be extremely happy as well. 

They took some short day trips on the Jolly Roger, visiting with Ariel and Eric one day, and making use of four more of the magic beans to travel to Arendelle and Agrabah to see their friends in those kingdoms. 

Finally the day of their designated departure came. They rose early to catch one final sunrise from the east porch, fixed a quick breakfast, then started packing. After loading everything onto the Jolly Roger, they did a final check around the house and grounds to be sure that they were leaving everything in the same condition as they had found it. 

After they verified that things were clean and neatly stored, Killian boarded their ship to begin getting it ready to sail. Emma started up the gangplank behind him, and then turned and looked longingly at the place that they had made their home for the last three weeks. It was their own little piece of paradise and she was certainly going to miss it. She never would’ve believed that she could relax and enjoy herself as much as she had, but her husband had surprised her yet again by finding a place where they could forget all the stress and drama in Storybrooke. 

Now it was back to the real world of ringing telephones at the sheriff’s office, late night patrols in freezing temperatures, and finding lost dogs. Of mornings at the diner listening to Leroy complain about the bacon taking too long while Granny threatened him with her crossbow, babysitting her screaming brother while her parents enjoyed a night out, chaperoning dances at the High School, and listening to the groaning pipes in their house when she turned on the kitchen faucet. 

It was also back to cozy Saturday mornings wrapped up in her husband’s arms in their own bed, laughing at his stories while they patrolled the town, and walks down to the dock to check on the Jolly. Back to watching her dad work on their farm with Wilby running around him in circles, and listening to her mom tell about the antics of her students at school as she baked cookies, while Emma rocked a sleeping Baby Neal. And back to Henry. 

“Are you ready, Love?” Killian asked, coming down the ramp to meet her. 

Emma turned and looked at him. His eyes showed a bit of concern as he gave her a small  nod and smile. She reached out to take his hand.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

*********

I hope you enjoyed this story. It was my first MC and holds a special place in my heart. Thank you for reading, commenting and reblogging! 

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[alirhi]

...goddess help me...

This fucking episode. *deep breath* This... This episode is where I'm expecting to get some serious hate. Let me just get this out of the way right up front:

I. Hate. Zemo.

I do not find him sympathetic, or funny, or charming. I find him creepy and annoying. I did not like him in CA:CW and I do not like him in TFATWS. If you are pro-Zemo, you are not going to like my version of this show from here on out. Just find something else to read and don't bother me about it. You've got the actual canon, so go enjoy that.

Got it? Good. Now, on to the main event!

Episode 3: The Power Broker

First of all, Sam doesn't let Bucky walk in there alone. No matter Bucky's (flimsy and nonsensical) argument, Sam's like "hell no. I go in with you, or you don't go in." The main reason for this isn't to keep Bucky from breaking Zemo out of prison (with decent writing, he would never do that) - it's so that Sam witnesses Zemo taunting Bucky with/about the trigger words. because Zemo is a piece of shit.

Since he doesn't know the full story, Sam is confused, but he files this interaction away to ask Bucky about later. He's listening to Zemo acknowledging that Bucky was "not conscious for most of [his] imprisonment" (which, yes, clearly refers to the time he spent frozen, but can also mean while he was under their control as TWS/"The Asset" - also, key word: imprisonment) and when he calls Bucky a means to an end, Sam scowls, looking ready to go off on him, but he waits. They've got more important issues.

Neither of them entertains the thought of breaking Zemo out for even a nanosecond. He does that shit himself. And literally the only reason I'm sticking with him getting out at all is because I want to address some truly egregious moments linked directly to him in the show. Zemo makes them think he's setting them on the trail when really he's just sending them to his motor pool. Bucky and Sam are confused until they see Zemo in his stolen guard uniform, then they're both angry and want to ship him right back to prison, but he strikes a deal with them: "My help for my temporary freedom. Creating super soldiers cannot be allowed to continue; let me finish my work, and then do with me as you will." He has no intention of going quietly back to prison, obviously, and they're not stupid enough to believe otherwise, but they believe they can keep him on a short leash, so they agree for now. Anything to bring down the Flag Smashers and whoever created them.

After the title, we cut to Raynor on the phone in her office. She's agitated, fiddling with things on her desk. "No, sir," she's practically growling, "it was disrupted. - Walker did! - It's not my fault your new attack dog got off-leash!" She pauses, huffs, and says more calmly, "No. Of course not. I'm sorry. - Well, I don't see how, with the new Cap strutting around barking orders! - What am I supposed to do? Tell Captain America in front of a dozen witnesses that he can't have his predecessor's favorite pet because we're not done reprogramming him? I didn't see that going over too well. I made a call. - No. No, no, no, we can still use him. The work's not finished, but he still trusts me. He'll be back." A pause as she listens. Angry again, she snaps, "What do you want me to do, shove a tracker up his ass? He'll be back, and we'll pick right back up where we left off! - Don't worry, sir, the Asset will be fully compliant and ready to use soon. I'll make sure of it. - Yes, sir. You, too." She hangs up and tosses her phone on the couch, grumbling, "Dick."

Cut back to Sam, Bucky, and Zemo getting going on their trip to Madripoor. On the plane, Sam wants to talk to Bucky about what he's learned so far, but doesn't want to bring it up in front of Zemo... until the notebook incident reminds him that Zemo already knows more about Bucky than he does.

After Zemo's line about the list, Sam angrily corrects him: "You mean people HYDRA used The Winter Soldier to hurt." When Zemo shrugs and his response is basically along the lines of "what's the difference" Sam is like "oh hell no."

"Those words you were reciting at him," he reminds Zemo, "what were they, Russian? They clearly meant something. They were supposed to do something. What are they?" "Sam, let it go," Bucky pleads, unable to look at either of them. "It's nothing." "You wanna drown in your guilt, that's fine," Sam snaps, "but make sure it's for the right reasons." He turns back to Zemo, who's smiling at this exchange because he's a monster and thinks Bucky's suffering is fucking funny. "I asked you a question, Zemo. What did those words do?" "They activate the Winter Soldier programming," Bucky grudgingly admits. He doesn't want to talk about it, but he's sure as hell not going to let Zemo speak for him. "Or, they did, before the Wakandans got all that shit out of my head." "It's a shame," Zemo says with a smirk. "Imagine the possibilities that come with perfect obedience." "I think you mean 'slavery'," Sam growls, "and I think you're in the wrong crowd to be looking so pleased about it. Remember that we can send your ass back to prison any time." "Of course," Zemo agrees, but with an arrogant smile that shows he doesn't believe for a second that these two have any real power over him. Still, he bides his time and sits back quietly, watching Bucky fidget with the notebook. Sam turns back to Bucky, seeing his discomfort; he won't let the topic go, though, not yet. He just softens his tone. "So, they 'activated the Winter Soldier'? What exactly does that mean?" Bucky shrugs, still not looking up. "Pretty much what he said - perfect obedience. What little consciousness they left me between cryo and the chair was squashed down, locked away. And I did whatever I was told, exactly the way they told me to." It finally clicks. He'd had his suspicions before, of course, but now Sam gets it. Visibly horrified, he stares at this quiet, broken man, and finally sees the truth of what he'd been through for 70 years: "They stripped away your autonomy. Shit, Bucky, they didn't even let you be a person. That's..." He swallows, looking like he'll be sick any minute. "That's awful, man. I'm so sorry." When Bucky tries to shrug it off and downplay it again, Sam gets angry. "Look at me!" He waits; it takes a few seconds, but Bucky reluctantly looks up and is surprised to see just how upset Sam is on his behalf. "It wasn't your fault. None of it. When Steve said you didn't have a choice, I had no idea... You really, truly had no choice; not even the ability to choose. That's horrifying." "I doubt it would make much difference to the people he's killed," Zemo points out snidely. "Or their families. Let's ask Tony Stark, shall we?" "You shut the hell up," Sam growls. He watches Bucky flinch and make that face - the face he's starting to really fucking hate - that says he agrees with Zemo. Bucky still can't see things the way Sam does; he still feels the guilt and shame, and even when he himself pointed out his lack of agency under HYDRA, it didn't click for him that Sam is right, not Zemo.

It's too much, too soon. Sam sees that and decides to change the subject, to give Bucky some time to process. He nods at the notebook, and they have their little Marvin Gaye debate, where Sam is over the top about it on purpose, because Bucky needs the distraction.

Of course, Zemo ruins it by opening his big mouth again and reminding Bucky of more trauma: his time fighting in WWII. That's why Sam latches onto the bit about Madripoor; to keep the focus not only on the task at hand, but off of Bucky's past that he clearly still can't cope with.

"James... You will have to become someone you claim is gone." Sam is officially ready to throw Zemo out a window. 😂 The only reason he doesn't jump to Bucky's defense again and basically tell Zemo to fuck himself (in a PG-13 way 🙄) is because Bucky's, as Sam pointed out in ep2, a grown-ass man, and because he's just learned how few decisions this poor man has been able to make in his life. Sam doesn't want to come across as another "handler," deciding everything for him, even if he does think this plan is stupid and needlessly cruel.

At the bar, when asked if he wants "the usual", Sam just casually waves the bartender off like "nah". Zemo already said they had business to attend to, so it's not like anyone would be suspicious that now's probably not a good time to be doing weird shots lol. (wtf even was that? I'm not sure I want to know, but...what part of the snake did he drop into that drink?)

Sam's not an idiot (I'm really so sick of this trend of turning intelligent characters into morons because the writers can't think of any other way to move their plot along) so his cell phone has been off this whole time. No sudden call from Sarah to put them all in danger. There was really no point to that, anyway; Sharon likely would have killed Selby for talking about Nagle with or without the excuse of "saving" Sam and Bucky. I mean, it's not like they know who fired that shot, ever.

"They cleared the Bionic Staring Machine," Sam still jokes, but he follows it with, "and they think he's a mass-murderer." "They think?" Sharon stares at him incredulously. "Didn't he kill pretty much everyone he's ever met?" "Wow." Sam glances back at Bucky. "She really is awful now." To Sharon, he adds, "You met Steve; do you really think he'd have defied 117 countries to protect someone evil?" "He did it for Bucky," she points out. "Let's face it - Bucky could blow up half the planet, and Steve's loyal-to-a-fault ass would still take a bullet for him." "You know I'm sitting right here, right? I can hear you." "Look, I don't think you're evil, Bucky," Sharon assures him. "But I know you killed a lot of people for HYDRA." "I'm not denying it." "He didn't have a choice," Sam snaps, glaring at them both. "But we're not getting into that right now. My point is, the government's afraid of Bucky, and they still pardoned him. All you did was steal something. I'm sure they can be persuaded to see reason." "The day the US government sees reason," Sharon quips, rolling her eyes, "is the day I sprout real wings and fly off into the sunset." "Careful, Icarus," Bucky mocks with a smirk, "the sun and brand new wings don't exactly go together." Then he shrugs and glances at Sam. "But she's not wrong."

At the party that night, it takes a few minutes (grumpy old man Bucky's not sure how to feel about the music lol) but a peek of pre-war Bucky comes out to play: they were told to "blend in", so he dances. At first he's just bobbing around alone looking stoic and out of place, but soon he's smiling and dancing between two attractive people - one male, one female. Sam is surprised, but before he can tease him for it, Sharon comes to get them all. Even she's a little "wait what?" at Bucky having a little fun lol. (recovery is not linear, guys. trauma doesn't mean "perpetually miserable, no fun, doesn't even know how to smile." in my TFATWS, Bucky gets his lighter moments; real ones, not humor at his expense)

When they find Nagle, Bucky's the one who notices and opens the secret door, while Sam keeps an eye on Zemo. Bucky catches Zemo trying to grab that gun; closes the drawer on his hand before opening it and taking the gun away. "Nice try." Nagle tries to get away while there's only one person watching him, but Sam catches him and forces him back into his seat. With a bruising grip on the back of Zemo's neck, Bucky drags him back over to where he and Sam can both keep an eye on him. Nagle is killed in the shootout as they're trying to escape; Zemo still runs off, blows shit up, and comes back with the stolen car so he's not totally useless.

I had no problem with Zemo being the one to kill Nagle; Nagle was the worst and def had to die, and Zemo has never had an issue killing anyone. Where I took issue with this scene was Bucky and Sam being dumb enough to let Zemo wander and get his hands on a gun. Nope. Not happening.

Anyway, shootout! Explosions! Funny banter! The seat thing, which is my favorite nod to CW ever lol... And then the conversation on the plane...

"You okay?" "Yeah." Sam sighs. "Just thinking." "About how to get Sharon that pardon you dangled in front of her?" He shakes his head. "About how Nagle referred to 'The Winter Soldier Program" like it was some kind of after school club; like you weren't standing right there. And 'the American test subject' like... Like Isaiah wasn't even a real person." He turns to face Bucky, looking angry and weary. "Makes me wonder how many times... How many times are we gonna run around in the same circles before people learn? And how many people need to get crushed underfoot in the meantime?" "Did you really just equate me with Isaiah?" Bucky frowns, not sure how to react to that. "That man is a hero." Sam opens his mouth to say something, but his phone goes off and Zemo approaches at the same time, effectively cutting off their conversation.

When they get to Riga and Zemo tries to guilt trip them over Sokovia, Bucky deadpan reminds him, "Neither of us were involved in that fight." "I doubt you'd have been much help if you were." He shrugs. "Probably not. But I like to save my guilt for events I was actually present for. It's a thing." Zemo laughs. "Fair enough."

Bucky goes on his walk, and meets up with Ayo.

[sayonarasanity]

Reverberation

Chapter V

link to AO3

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

notes: the song that will be mentioned in this chapter is She's a Rainbow by Lola Marsh and also here is the Spotify link. I highly recommend you to listen to it especially while reading that part. it's truly an incredible song

The first year of high school passed by in the blink of an eye. Between the adjustment of classes, advanced math, and literature, teachers of idiosyncratic character treats and a variety of teens in the class he didn’t even understand the period between September and June. If he was being honest there wasn’t much noteworthy difference between middle school and high school except for the lessons and maybe some physical changes among his peers as well as himself. Save for the height part. Apparently, he wasn’t gifted like that giant Mike or the very sophisticated Erwin Smith.

There was nothing much to do during the summer break. He worked alongside his uncle in the market to at least gain some money and not spend his whole time lying on his bed, sweaty and gasping for a breath while a single leaf on a tree begged for a tiny breeze to make it wiggle. He read some books, watched some TV shows, played soccer with the other boys in class; Mike, Erwin, Oluo, Guther, Eld and even Moblit when or if they were around. Went to the beach with the same squad in addition to girls like Petra, Nifa, Nanaba and Hanji.

Most of his time was spent with Hanji, of course. On the roof, in the attic, in each other’s rooms, sometimes at the library—because the heat didn’t stop Hanji from being a complete nerd—and sometimes she helped him in the market while stuffing his mind with countless  mind-blowing  topics.

And so came the second year of high school.

And it took Hanji only two weeks to be late for the first class in the morning.

“I can’t believe you actually slept in,” Levi told her after she came inside the class during the break, gasping, her face flushed red possibly from running, hair dishevelled and absolutely not  combed,  and sat down on her desk in front of him.

She was trying to adjust her breaths as she turned over to face him. The dispersed, brown strands were covering her face, some of them had stuck on her reddened cheek and forehead. After the not so successful haircut, Levi had given her, she had also gotten bangs. Courtesy of her mother. “I was reading a book last night.”

“And?” He raised a brow.

She pushed the glasses up, and leaned in closer, putting an elbow on top of his desk. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“What kind of book could possibly make you stay awake all night?”

“It’s called The Blind Owl.” She shivered as if a chill had gone through her body. “It was the most disturbing thing I’ve ever read. And the thing is I couldn’t stop reading it because it was also ridiculously intriguing,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes under her glasses. “It cost me my sleep though.”

“That bad, huh?” Levi asked, but it was obvious from the dark circles under her eyes.

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad actually. It was masterfully written for sure. It was just—”

“Disturbing.”

“Yes. There is no other word to explain it.” She ran a hand through her dispersed hair, but her fingers got stuck between the knots. Then she looked at her wrist and groaned frustrated. “I forgot my hair tie.”

One of the things the almost six years of friendship with Hanji had thought him was to collect the items she had a habit of forgetting, mostly in his room. He had a drawer full of her lost, black hair ties. He kept a few on his pencil case or sometimes, like today, he carried one of them on his wrist. “Here,” he said extending it to her.

“What would do without you?” she whined as she took the tie from him.

“You wouldn’t survive a day,” Levi pointed out. It wasn’t even half-joke.

“Agreed,” she nodded. She had finished tying up her hair. Now her face was more on display, the flush on her cheeks was nearly gone. Levi realized that her nape was not covered with the too-short strands that couldn’t make it into her sloppy, little ponytail.

His hand moved instinctively, naturally even. “Your hair has grown long again,” he told her with a frown. And when his fingers touched her bare nape, she winced quite clearly for his frown to get deeper. He retreated his hand upon her reaction.

Her hand held the place he had barely touched seconds ago and when she noticed his expression she laughed. “God, your fingers are cold.”

Levi folded his hand as a fist, pressing his fingertips on his palm to see if his fingers were indeed cold as she had said. His body temperature was low, it was no news to him but at the moment his fingertips was not that cold for her to give such a reaction. Maybe because she had run here it was her body which was unnaturally hot, he reasoned, not really satisfied but he would accept it for the time being.

“Do you want me to cut it?”

“No,” she objected, avoiding his stare. “I’ll use it like this for a while.”

Her hand went on rubbing her neck, it seemed like an almost unintentional, absent-minded motion at this point.

“I made some research,” Hanji said when the silence got a little awkward for their standards. She then looked through her bag with both hands and slammed a wrinkled piece of paper on his desk.

“What’s this?” He examined her inelaborate handwriting but couldn’t understand the overall concept of what was written. Meanwhile, Hanji brought a pen over the page and underlined two words that were written in capital letters.

ROSE and SINA.

“These two are the best universities of the country,” she started to explain. “Both in terms of education and in terms of different opportunities for students. Student clubs are very much active also the campuses are huge.”

Levi had heard of the universities of course. They were named after the cities they were located in. Sina was almost three hours away from their town and Rose was even further in the opposite direction. But they had to leave the town at some point if they wanted to receive a good education. As Hanji had told the two of them were probably their best options and if they manage to keep their grades high enough there was a chance for both of them to make it into the same university. But, which one?

“But?”

“But” she carried the pen over the word Sina and drew a circle around it. “Since Sina is a technical university, I think it is a far better option for us considering the departments we want to study.”

Levi hummed thoughtfully. She did have a point.

“Also,” she continued, eyes glittering. “Great professors like Keith Shadis, Theo Magath and Darius Zackly are teaching there. Imagine the lectures…” she shrieked with excitement and wiggled in her seat. “It’s gonna be so fun!”

Levi shook his head at her quite early thrill and snatched the pencil out of her hand. He drew an arrow to the word Sina and wrote elegantly above: GOAL. “Sina it is then.”

Hanji took the pencil back and while nodding she scratched the word he had just written and instead, bringing the pencil a little to the crosswise she wrote: DREAM.

She looked at him then as if to confirm, with a bright smile on her lips and eyes full of the glitter of the dream she held so close to her heart. It was contagious. Levi felt his lips curling up, and maybe a tiny bit of that lustre in her eyes had reached out to his own. And he thought that maybe it wasn’t that hard after all.

How naïve, a sly, foreign voice whispered in the back of his mind. Little boy, how naïve.

-

“So, what’s going on between you two?”

Hanji lifted her eyebrows upon Nifa’s question and moved her stare to whom the question was directed. Nanaba gulped her bite with seemingly a little more force than necessary and blinked innocently at Nifa. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Nifa wiggled her brows, smirking mischievously at their suffering friend. “You and Mike.”

Petra hid a chuckle behind her hand as Hanji bit her cheek inside to stop her smile from shaping so obviously. They were sitting in the backyard of the school on an arbour for lunch. There was still for about half an hour until their next class and from the looks of it, Nifa had decided to use it for some gossip.

“Nothing,” Nanaba answered nonchalantly then she brought the straw of her peach juice to her mouth and took a very long sip. Hanji didn’t miss the faint blush on her cheekbones. “We’re friends.”

“You’re a little too close for being friends, don’t you think?” Nifa asked with a sweet voice, dropping her chin on top of her intertwined fingers, smiling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” Nanaba brushed her off, taking another bite from her sandwich.

“Stop tormenting her, Nifa,” Hanji interrupted just as Nifa was about to say something else. “She can tell us when she feels like it.” Hanji then smirked at a very pissed Nanaba, who was glaring at her so hard Hanji thought she could catch flames just by responding to her stare.

Suddenly, someone dropped something in front of her with a loud “pat” and Hanji looked down, startled, to a packet of chocolate milk, then looked up to a frowning Levi.

“Did you eat?”

“Yep!” Hanji rested her chin on her palm and smiled at him. “Did you?”

He nodded silently and gestured at the milk standing on the wooden table. “You’re gonna pay me back for that later.”

“Stingy,” she murmured as he turned his back to her. Hanji saw the other boys gathered up around a bench a little away from where she and the girls sat. And before Levi went too far away, she shouted behind him, “When shall we meet again?”

He glanced at her above his shoulder. “After school,” he said, flatly.

“Come on, Levi!” She lifted her chin from her palm, disappointed. “You should’ve said “when the hurly-burly is done”, I thought you were better than that!”

He turned his whole body to her this time, walking backwards. A smirk played on one corner of his lips, midday sun caught his eyes, and her heart skipped a beat. “And you should’ve asked, “in thunder, lightning or in rain?” I thought you were better than  that , genius.”

Take him and cut him out in the little stars.

Levi was beautiful. Hanji recalled the day she had first realized it, the faint yellow leaves and the crackling sound of fire. The realization had hit hard, and she couldn’t have understood the reason why right away. It was startling that was for sure but after some thorough and logical consideration, she had decided that it was all about being a teenager.

It was that simple. Thinking a boy was beautiful was natural. Besides, it wasn’t just Levi. Erwin, for instance, was attractive. With a sharp chin, bright, blue eyes and that shiny yellow hair that always looked so soft like cotton. He wasn’t necessarily beautiful though but attractive still, handsome even.

And he will make the face of Heaven so fine.

Levi turned his back to her again and Hanji snorted, opening the straw of her chocolate milk. “He got me bad.”

When she put the straw between her lips for a long sip, she realized the silence that has settled on the table and when she took a glance above her glasses, she saw the three other girls looking at her.

“What?” she asked after gulping.

“What’s with you two?”

“Huh?”

It was Nifa again and this time the question was directed at her. “You and Levi?”

Hanji blinked, trying to reason her question. “What about us?”

“You seem close,” Petra added instead of Nifa. Her hazel eyes curious as she observed Hanji. “Like real close.”

Hanji frowned and pushed her glasses back to their proper place. “We are best friends.” They seriously hadn’t understood it for a year?

“I bet everyone thinks you’re dating,” Nifa said laughing.

Oh? “That’s ridiculous,” Hanji said, shaking her head. “Why would I date my best friend?”

Nifa shrugged, and Petra looked thoughtful. “How long have you been friends?”

Hanji didn’t know why but she felt her stomach curl. “Since we were eleven.”

Petra hummed and the conversation seemed to be over like that. Hanji chewed the plastic stick thoughtfully and with distress, she couldn’t find the reason why. The curl stayed solid in her stomach, sharp and insistent. Absently she noticed that Petra was staring somewhere with a strange expression in her eyes and when Hanji followed her stare, she saw Levi standing in front of the bench the other boys were sitting. Mike who was standing next to him had wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he looked content, his features relaxed, his black hair looked smooth touching his forehead.

That all the world will be in love with the night.

Goddamn Juliet, she thought bitterly, frowning she took her eyes away from him. Goddamn Shakespeare.

*

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

It was Wednesday afternoon on a nice autumn day. Near them was a tree slowly getting peeled off its leaves, and the clouds were reflecting the orange light the sun created. It was also reflecting on her ginger hair, making it shine almost yellow.

“I, uh…” Petra cleared her throat, squeezed her hair behind her ear as the blush that had appeared on her cheeks gradually became more visible. “This is harder than I expected.”

Levi raised his brows. He had been wondering what Petra wanted to talk to him ever since she asked him if they could meet after school in the backyard this morning. He had found it a little awkward because it had felt like she wanted to talk to him in private and he couldn’t have thought of any reason why she would wish for that.

“You look nervous,” he told her.

“Well, of course, I am,” Petra laughed, not a cheerful one. “I am trying to…”

She let out a sharp breath as if she was angry at herself and she wasn’t looking at him too. Her eyes were scanning their feet, her fingers were fidgeting, brows furrowed.

And Levi was quietly getting an idea about why she wanted to talk to him.

“Just tell me,” He tried to encourage her, feeling his own heartbeat getting faster abruptly.  

Finally, she looked up at him, her cheeks painted crimson and she took a long, deep breath before she said, “Would you like to go to the cinema with me?”

“Oh,” he said.

Not the kind of reaction he should’ve given apparently. Petra bit her lower lip anxiously at first, searching his eyes. He must be pretty shocked for she looked a little discouraged upon his reaction. But within seconds she gathered herself up, her shoulders held high.

“I… liked you since the seventh grade,” she said, the blush spread from her cheeks to her neck, but she continued to be resolute without looking anywhere else than him. “And I thought that there is nothing wrong with asking a boy out if that boy doesn’t seem to be doing it anytime close.”

Levi felt his own cheeks heating up. Admittedly, he had never realized Petra had such feelings for him. “Sorry.”

Petra laughed, somewhat forcefully. “It’s okay,” she gulped, and a weak smile vibrated on her lips. “Just don’t be harsh if you’re gonna say no.”

Levi considered her offer quietly. Petra had always been a good friend and she was a nice person too. Kind, tidy and even funny. She loved painting and drawing and was pretty gifted at them as well. And she smelled fresh, Levi guessed it was because of the softener she used on her clothes, her hair was soft, and her eyes were pretty.

“When do you want to go?”

Said pretty eyes glittered as she beamed at him. For a second, in the back of his mind, he saw a very similar image belonging to another girl with auburn hair and hazel-brown eyes who had a smile that reminded him of the rainbow after rain and sun.

“What about this Friday after school?” Petra asked, excitedly.

“Sure,” Levi responded, trying to smile and ignore the weird feeling in his stomach.

*

When he stepped into the roof, the night was chilly, the sky was full of transparent, quietly moving clouds, the stars were shining behind them, the Wanning Gibbous was hanging low on the horizon, and Hanji was standing on the edge of the roof, her head laid backwards.

Levi didn’t even know if he breathed, his heart jumped to his throat as he threw his schoolbag to the ground and walked closer to her from behind cautiously. “Hanji, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Watching the sky,” she replied, smiling.

Levi felt a muscle move on his jaw; his heart was beating so loud it almost hurt his ears. He focused on adjusting his breaths. In and out. “Don’t be ridiculous. Get back down.”

Hanji shrugged and Levi nearly had a heart attack right then and there. He felt his eyes widen, and his breath hitched. “I feel closer to the clouds like this.”

“Hanji,” he took slow, careful steps towards her. The night breeze was toying with her dispersed hair, her face was tranquil, her eyes never left the sight of the clouds. The smile that was drawn on her lips was unmoving like it was craved there by the hands of a masterful sculptor. And he watched her, his heart still beating fast and loud, his breaths irregular, and his eyes wide, and he thought about—

Stars

how free she looked at that moment like she belonged to the sky, the stars and the moon. As if they shone for her only.

hide your fires.  

Brown hair and brown eyes but Hanji was luminous. She kept the colours hidden, had a brush and a palette ready in her hand. The murky night did nothing but to contrast the light, she had a way with the world which made her stood out among the dullest of sounds and faces. Even on top of a derelict building, she was—

Let not light see—

the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He grabbed her wrist, inhaling hard and thick then he drew her back with a quick move of his arm. Her body turned and crashed against him, and he stumbled backwards a few steps, but he kept his balance, wrapping his arms around her waist securely, without any intention of letting go. He vaguely heard the surprised shriek Hanji made upon his unexpected move. And he half-expected her to push him back, to laugh it off and to say that he was being dramatic again. That nothing was going to happen anyway, it wasn’t like she was going to jump.

Yet instead, her arms circled his neck as she rested her cheek on his head and at that very moment Levi realized that he had never thought of losing her, of what would happen if she were to leave his life. Just like he had never imagined a day without the sun rising. The thought was uninvited and unwelcomed, and it cropped a fear in his heart so profound, he drew a shivering breath in before he buried his face on her neck. Then he pushed that thought deep down to the dungeon in his head never to see daylight again.

“I’m okay, you know,” Hanji spoke after seconds.

“Stupid,” he said, holding her tighter. “Stupid four-eyes.”

“Mm,” she muttered, amused. Then she started to move left and right making him follow her movements as if they were dancing. “I’m going to let all the world know that Levi Ackerman cares for me.”

Levi placed his forehead on her shoulder, pressing hard. “Someone needs to care for your sorry ass, or you’ll drop it down a goddamn building.”

She laughed, and it felt so good to hear it he immediately craved the sound soon as it faded away. Hanji stopped moving afterwards, then put her hands on his shoulder to push him slightly back. He withdrew reluctantly but kept his hands on either side of her waist not ready to let go just yet.

Her eyes were somewhat misty as she watched him, as the sharp peak of a mountain lost behind a grey fog. Levi frowned at her, searching for a sturdy branch to hold and to obtain some kind of a clue about what she was thinking. He came back empty-handed, and Hanji snapped out of it soon after, smiling at him brightly and warm. Her hair was all over her face, her glasses were askew, and he brought a hand up to fix them.

Then he flicked her forehead instead.

“Ouch!” She exclaimed, touching the slightly damaged skin.

“That was for almost giving me a heart attack,” Levi said nonchalantly and walked past her to grab his schoolbag. Then he sat down, bag between his legs as he searched for the snacks he bought after school.

“Geez, I’m sorry,” Hanji muttered as she placed herself next to him. “But you were just being dramatic. I wasn’t going to jump anyway.”

*

So, here was the thing, he needed to tell Hanji.

But he didn’t know how. Through all those years they had been friends, there had never been a secret among them. He knew everything about her. From the fact that she had fed a frog in her room when she was only seven without telling neither of her parents and how she accidentally killed the poor animal by forgetting to feed it properly. And to the very first crush, she secretly had on a boy who didn’t even know who she was when she was ten. Each and every detail in between had been craved in his head, everything about her was a book he had learnt by heart, and he knew that for her it was the same.

He didn’t understand why he was so unwilling now about telling her about Petra. Frankly, he was going to tell her yesterday but when he saw her standing on the edge of the goddamn roof, he had forgotten all about it in a second. Thursday, which was today, he couldn’t have found a chance to talk to her alone and tomorrow was Friday. And he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do.

Levi traced the shadows on the ceiling with his eyes, lying on his bed. It was near eleven pm but he didn’t have any sleep. Should he call Hanji? But no. It wasn’t something he could tell on the phone. It would be absurd and out of nowhere—

His phone started to vibrate on the bedside table.

He jumped a little, surprised at hearing a sound other than the voices in his head then stared at the phone for a while until he decided that it was going to ring till he opened it. And so, he did.

“I thought you had fallen asleep,” Hanji spoke before him as he lied back down, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I was trying to,” he lied.

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized without sounding a bit sincere. “But this is more important than your sleep so…”

He raised a brow. “What did you learn again?”

“A lot of things. But that is not the reason why I called.” Levi heard some clatter he guessed it was the pressing of the computer keys. “I found a new song.”

He exhaled, wearily. “Seriously?”

“Wait before you judge,” she said. “Do you remember the time when you said, this is going to sound weird but, I was a rainbow?”

“No.”

“I hate you,” she said, darkly. “It was our first time in the attic. I had told you about –”

“I know, Hanji.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, I remember.”

She grunted and said some things he couldn’t quite pick clearly under her breath. “You don’t really deserve this but since I’m a nice person I’ll let you listen to it.”

He snorted, lips curling on the corners, and he waited for the song to start. And not long after, he heard the first notes, then a soft voice of a woman followed. He also heard Hanji accompanying quietly behind, murmuring the lyrics alongside. Then he closed his eyes to focus on the song properly.

Dearest, I'm broken

My body is unspoken

How could I be loved?

Wake up in the morning

Feeling uncertain

Like a burning old scar

For I remember

The joy I’ve had as a child

Various colours I’m hiding inside

She’s a rainbow

And I am

A difficult man

It was as if the song, the lyrics, the notes, the singer’s voice were each had little hooks, they captured his soul relentlessly. He felt captive, unable to move. The song made him feel way too many things, with an intensity that nearly choke him as he lied there. His throat felt tight, even after the song ended, notes faded, and all he could hear was Hanji’s regular breaths a complete opposite of how his heart pounded at the moment.

“So?” She asked when he was unable to speak. “What do you think?”

Levi cleared his throat, he needed to talk dammit. “It was nice.”

“Just nice?” She didn’t sound pleased at his response. “But you have to listen to it every day Levi so that you wouldn’t forget me.”

“Forget you?” Was she kidding?

“We don’t know where life would take us,” Hanji told him, her voice calm now. “It’s the reality of the world. I’m just guarantying myself.”

Oh, so she didn’t know? That no matter where life carried him, no matter how high and wild the waves would be it would change nothing. The sun would rise from the west, and all the world would crumble, melt and disappear. But he wouldn’t forget her.

“What if you forget me?” Levi redirected the question to her, wondering her answer.

“I wouldn’t,” she said, not hesitating.

“How do you know?”

“If I’m a rainbow then that would make you the sky, remember?” Some distinct shuffling came to his ears, and he imagined her lying on her side, the phone still on speaker resting on top of her pillow. “Whenever I look up at the sky, I will think about you.”

“Sappy,” he whispered, ignoring the aftershock her words caused.

She chuckled in response and yawned loudly. “Only for you, clean-freak.”

*

Friday after the last class ended Hanji gathered up her things quickly. It had been an incredibly long and tiring week. She couldn’t wait to spend some time with Levi on the roof, just talking about things that didn’t matter, things that were easy to speak of because they were still young and had years ahead to take them seriously.

She waited for Levi outside, leaning against the school building as he went to the bathroom. She busied herself with observing the exhausted students leaving the school borders, chattering between themselves. It was getting chilly and the black denim jacket she was wearing didn’t do a good job at protecting her. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater to her palms to at least cover her hands. She spotted Petra a few inches away from where she was standing. She was walking back and forth, fiddling with a piece of paper she held in her hands. Hanji found it a little strange but shrugged, deciding it wasn’t her business.

Finally, among the rain of students that walked through the school gate, Levi appeared. His face and some parts of his hair damp, indicating that he had just washed his face.

“Feeling refreshed enough?” Hanji asked, smirking.

“Yeah,” Levi murmured, and he looked around briefly.

“Come on,” Hanji pushed herself up from the wall. “Let’s go. We better grab something to eat on the way. I’m starving.”

She had taken only a few steps when she heard Levi calling out to her quietly. “Hanji.”

“Mm?”

He appeared to be uneasy as he looked at her, brows knitted, and lips pressed. Curiosity rose within her swiftly as she expected the words he was about to say.

“I can’t come to the roof with you today.”

Of all the things she thought about that was the least, she had expected to hear. Her stomach started to burn again, and she imagined a cauldron inside. Burning so fiercely and it never promised anything good. “Why?” Hanji asked, sounding just as surprised as she possibly looked.

Levi’s eyes moved to somewhere above her shoulder. She wanted to trace his stare but was too busy observing his expression, a little anxious, tense and what? Embarrassed? But why?

“Levi?”

“I… am going to the cinema,” he blurted eventually, his eyes finding her again. “With Petra.”

Cinema… with Petra?

“As a date?” She sounded bewildered again as if she couldn’t believe her ears. It wasn’t something to be that surprised about considering their age, hormones and everything. But it was Levi. Levi… It had always been the two of them, now imagining him spending time alone with someone else—she hadn’t prepared herself for that.

“I guess,” Levi rubbed his neck. Oh, he was shy about it too? Was he excited, was he looking forward to it? Was he going to hold her hand as he held hers? Did he even  like  her? When had this thing happened anyway?

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He seemed guilty, and he should be too. They were best friends for a reason. If she wasn’t going to be the first one to know about his first  date, what was the point to it?

“It happened just this Wednesday. I couldn’t find a proper time—”

“This Wednesday?” She tried not to reflect her disappointment in her voice. “It was two days ago, mind you. You had plenty of time.”

“Hanji—”

“Did you ask her out?” Hanji went on, not giving him any chance to speak. “How long have you liked her?”

“It’s not—” He frowned, his jaw tightened, and a blaze came to life in his eyes. “She asked me.”

“Oh? How brave!” She felt like laughing and somewhere deep inside she knew that she was exaggerating, that she should be happy for him instead. Yet the disappointment was much heavier, and it stood out so blatantly, so arrogantly that it didn’t give her any time to think reasonably.  

“Hanji, don’t.” He stepped forward but she withdrew in an instant.

“Have a nice date,” she said, and she failed at hiding the sarcasm behind. And she thought she saw a flickering of hurt in his eyes but didn’t stay long enough to acknowledge it. With a final look she gave to a confused Petra, she walked out of school. And the cauldron bubbled, bubbled and it burned, and it hurt. Then Hanji wished it would turn the wildflower to ashes to its roots so that it wouldn’t spring again. Wishful thinking it was because the wildflower was already the reason why the flames come alive in the first place.

*

Hanji didn’t quite remember when or how but she was sitting on the swing on the park near Levi’s house, the park they had buried the dead bird all those years ago. Strange how the years passed. She felt old for some reason despite the fact that she was only sixteen and life hadn’t even started for her yet. But she yearned for that little girl now, playing snowball fight with a boy who drank a little too much tea and swore a little too much for their age. Then she cursed at herself for being so frail, for letting her emotions draw the road she would walk.

The streetlamp near the park had a weak light. It trembled from time to time, squeaking as if it was at death’s door. She pondered it was a good metaphor as to how she felt now. Exaggerating? Maybe. But Levi had become such a constant in her life, it felt like the time Jack had crashed her glasses. She remembered how blurry everything seemed and how dizzy she had felt.

“Hanji?”

She blinked and following the voice she lifted her eyes up from the ground. It was Erwin, standing in front of her, with a curious expression painted on his face. What was he doing here?

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Hanji shook her head, realizing that she had been blinking at Erwin absently. Then nodded, voicing a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”

He sat down on the swing next to her, dropping his school bag on the ground. It was a funny sight. A boy of Erwin’s age and height sitting on a child swing. His legs were much too long for that, but he used them to move back and forth slowly.

“I was just passing by,” he said, shrugging. “What are you doing here alone? Where’s Levi?”

She didn’t need to be reminded of the fact that whenever someone saw one of them alone, they immediately wondered where the other was.  I am acting like a child.  Then she started to move back and forth herself, holding the chains on either side. “He is on a date,” she informed Erwin. “With Petra.”

Then the movements of her legs fastened to the point where she had to curl them so that they wouldn’t slow her down. She used her body against the wind, it ruffled her hair, and her hair blocked her vision. And she thought about Levi who was with Petra and Petra who was kind and pretty. Petra who had shiny hair which was always combed and tidy. Petra who was funny and nice and—

“Hanji!”

Ah, her vision was blurry. Had she dropped her glasses again?

“Hey, slow down!”

She couldn’t slow down but someone, Erwin, she remembered, made her. He was holding the sides of the swing, kneeling down in front of her, he looked into her eyes. Hanji noticed his eyes were a different kind of blue not so fierce like the winter ocean, but kind and worried at the moment. Yellow, thick eyebrows knitted, “Are you okay?” Erwin asked.

It was the second time he had asked the same question and it confused her a bit. Did she look that bad? “Yeah,” she confirmed. Her voice came out cracked.

Then Erwin reached out with his hand. Hanji waited silently as he wiped her cheek with his thumb and under her chin with his knuckles. His hand shone under the shrieking light of the streetlamp when he withdrew it, with tears, she realized with a startle. She lifted her hand then, her eyes wide and touched her damp cheek.

“I can walk you home if you’d like,” Erwin offered with a voice so gentle Hanji thought she hated it. Hated because she didn’t want pity when she was the one that had brought this upon herself.

She blinked at her wet fingers, her sight getting blurry again and used her other hand to adjust her glasses.  She could walk herself home, and she opened her mouth to say that much to Erwin. But words betrayed her half-way and what came out was, “I’d appreciate that,” instead, as she accepted, silently. “Thank you.”

[craftypeaceturtle]

Distanced, part 1

Summary: A group chat fic! How shall these useless students cope with daily life.

Note: This is my first attempt at anything even remotely like this! I have no idea how this will turn out so feedback is greatly appreciated! Intrulogical. 

Next part here!!

.

MESSAGES: To Remus Prince (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:15

Hello. This is Logan Sanders from Prof. Smith’s seminar. Do you have any suggestions for how we should go about completing the upcoming assessment?

Remus Prince: who dis

I literally just stated it. Logan Sanders.

I wear the tie.

Remus Prince: OHHH

Remus Prince: Well 1stly

Remus Prince: What’s the best planet in the solar system?

Pardon?

Remus Prince: i LitERaLlY JuSt stAtED iT

That has nothing to do with anything, we just need to get through this project.

Remus Prince: if u want to work then u have to answer

Jupiter. 

Remus Prince: cool.

Remus Prince: You’ll do.

Remus Prince: My name is Remus.

I know. We did actually swap phone numbers. We in fact discussed which topic we would be doing for over fifteen minutes in the seminar. So we have indeed met. If you continue to be obnoxious then this will be a easier project. 

.

MESSAGES: To Remus Sanders (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:22

Why did you ask that question?

 Remus Prince: I asked my brother that question and he answered earth

Remus Prince: I’ve had trust issues ever since

Roman’s favourite planet is Earth? 

 Remus Prince: HAH

Remus Prince: ye he’s an idiot

Remus Prince: I’ve gotta test everyone now.

Remus Prince: You passed btw

Remus Prince: WAIT!

Remus Prince: Do u know Ro?

Yes, he is my friend and roommate. 

Remus Prince: What was ur name again????????

You can literally scroll up and reread it. I refuse. You got into university for a reason and so you can manage my name.

Remus Prince: jk

Okay then. Do you want to discuss how we should go about creating this powerpoint?

Remus Prince: what’s there to ‘discuss’?

We can separately conduct our research however it is regrettably better to meet up in person to practise not only giving the presentation but also the construction of the presentation itself.

Remus Prince: man you just love sending essays huh

I have written out longer messages. I don’t understand the point of sending a sentence at a time and risk getting interrupted. Plus at least my texting doesn’t seem all like an assault of constant notifications. 

Remus Prince: fair

Shall we say that we should aim to get our presentation research finished by two weeks (15th). That leaves us another two weeks to construct the powerpoint, gather more research if necessary, then practise presenting. 

Remus Prince: k

GROUPCHAT: Goths, Emos, and Remus

Tuesday, 16:26

Octopussy: can I vent for a sec

Octopussy: So! I’m just sitting here. Y’know. Vibing. 

Octopussy: Then out of nowhere the nerd from my class starts messaging me about the group project that’s due a month away

Octopussy: like wtf

Octopussy: nice to know the nerd thing isn’t just appearance

Vigilant: help

Octopussy: he made a big deal about meeting up as well to do this!

Octopussy: No one in the class even cares!

Octopussy: No one is even remotely

Octopussy: Not even close

Octopussy: To thinking about that project right now!

Octopussy: We’ve got ages!

Vigilant: oh sweet jesus

Octopussy: Like! We’ve got a month!

Octopussy: AN ENTIRE MONTH

Octopussy: Like he also wants to meet up as well to practise

Octopus: Like ew.

Top-Hat-Gay: Are you done?

Octopussy: ye

Octopussy: he’s a dick

Vigilant: oh thank god

Top-Hat-Gay: Ha, as if you believe in god.

Vigilant: If it stops Re from not spamming us then I’ll believe whatever. 

Octopussy: rude

Vigilant: bitch

Top-Hat-Gay: On an actually important note, which one of you last used my nail bag?

Octopussy: me!

Octopussy: you need more green 

Top-Hat-Gay: No I fucking don’t!

Top-Hat-Gay: There was an entirely new bottle in there!

Octopussy: I said what I said.

Top-Hat-Gay: I hate you. 

Octopussy: Thank bby

Octopussy: ALSO!

Octopussy: I found out the nerd also lives with Ro.

Top-Hat-Gay: So?

Vigilant: hE’S FORBIDDEN

Top-Hat-Gay: Wait so the nerd is Logan?

Octopussy: He is!

Octopussy: not that it seems to be having any effect on Ro. he’s as dense as a brick.

Top-Hat-Gay: I saw him today going into Remy’s. 

Vigilant: Why are we even talking about him

Vigilant: Like who gives a shit.

Octopussy: dunno

Octopussy: just thought it was weird

Top-Hat-Gay: Maybe you should switch partners. Especially if he wants to meet up at some point.

Octopussy: nah

Octopussy: not worth it

Top-Hat-Gay: A teacher wouldn’t care. They only want to see good grades. They won’t mind moving stuff around for you.

Octopussy: He seems harmless. 

Vigilant: you literally called him a dick after one conversation.

Octopussy: he is a dick

Octopussy: he seems stuffy but just a nerd through and through. He’s not going to be a prick or anything.

Vigilant: This isn’t really about him. He already got you talking about you know who in your first ever conversation. Maybe you shouldn’t hang around him.

Octopussy: I just thought it was interesting

Octopussy: It doesn’t mean jack shit

Octopussy: Not everything I talk about has some grand meaning.

Octopussy: I just thought it was weird that this nerd I share my classes with also lives with my bro. 

Top-Hat-Gay: And that’s perfectly fine Re.

Octopussy: soz V

Octopussy: didn’t mean to blow up in your face

Octopussy: just annoying to feel psycho-analysed 

Vigilant: soz

Octopussy: okay! 

Octopussy: that’s proof enough!

Octopussy: we can behave to each other so ice cream plz!!!!!!!!!!!

Top-Hat-Gay: JESUS CHRIST I SAID THAT AS A JOKE LAST YEAR

Octopussy: I will eat V’s posters unless you give us reward good boy icecream

Vigilant: chocolate pls

Top-Hat-Gay: jesus do you lot know how long it takes for me to put on my cape to go shopping

Vigilant: yes

Vigilant: we are precisely aware of exactly how long it takes

Vigilant: that’s why we don’t go shopping with you

GROUPCHAT: THE FAM ILY

Tuesday, 16:38

Pat-on-the-back: Heya guys, are we all in for dinner tonight?

Logan.S: I am.

YourHopesandDreams: I will be in at 7. If you could be so compassionate to push your meal back until then, I would be truly indebted to you.

Pat-on-the-back:  Fine by me!

Logan.S: I am agreeable.

Pat-on-the-back: Also Lo! Are you finished with your work?

Logan.S: I have finished my to-do list so I am available if I’m needed. 

Pat-on-the-back: No, you’re all good! I just wanted to check. It sounded like you were doing work for like four hours straight.

Logan.S: It took three hours thank you very much. 

Logan.S: So what are we doing for dinner?

Pat-on-the-back: I was thinking lasagne! 

Pat-on-the-back: also! Don’t think I’ll notice that change in topic!

Pat-on-the-back: I thought we all agreed on two hour stretches of work with a 15 min break at least. I mean... it’s even written on our calendar! There’s no way you forgot, did you Mister! 

Logan.S: It’s fine Pat.

Logan.S: Just let it go

Logan.S: I needed to get it done

Logan.S: I don’t need to be babied. 

Logan.S: I’m taking a break now. I’m okay.

Pat-on-the-back: I know, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure. As long as you feel okay then everything’s alright! How was your work anyway?

Logan.S: Fairly ordinary actually. I had to go through some of my notes and rewrite a couple of pages then I had to organise a group project due the 2nd of March. 

Pat-on-the-back: Sounds productive!

Logan.S: Thank you.

YourHopesandDreams: Ew. Group project. Who’s your partner?

Logan.S: We are in entirely different courses, why do you think you would know them?

YourHopesandDreams: Everyone knows the drama students know everyone. 

Logan.S: I’m working with Remus.

YourHopesandDreams: You should ask to swap partners. 

Logan.S: I won’t do so unless I have a genuine reason. I’ve not had any interactions with him previously and while he did seem half-hearted and obnoxious in his messages, he seems harmless. If he messes everything around then I will but I won’t make a fuss unless I have reason to.

Pat-on-the-back: That’s fair but please make sure to tell us if he pulls anything.

YourHopesandDreams: Your loss. 

.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:02

hey u awake

Nerd: What on earth are you doing up at 3am? 

Oh

Soz

Wrong number.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:12

Nerd: What is your favourite planet?

wha

Nerd: I figured it would be fair to ask your test to you. For all I know you could be as uncultured as your brother.

can we not talk about him

I dunno really

I wanna say pluto because they deserve it

but I kinda like saturn best.

Nerd: Any reason why?

Just kinda interesting

Big, lots a moons, ring. 

It’s just a cool planet. 

Nerd: Fair enough.

Do you have a reason to like jupiter?

Nerd: If I’m being honest, my science teacher absolutely adored Jupiter. I don’t know why but that memory of him ranting about how cool it was just really stuck with me. I was only about 8 years old. But I found myself agreeing with him. Back then my fascination was a lot more childish. I thought it was fascinating that since Jupiter was a gas planet it hadn’t been blown away yet. I grew up from that view but the interest never left.

ew that was almost cute.

Nerd: I concur that was very unprofessional.

WAIT

WAIT

HOLD ON

Why hasn’t Jupiter blown away!?!?!?!?!??

Nerd: Excuse me?

8YR OLD YOU IS A GENUIS 

Nerd: There’s no atmosphere in space!

But there’s pressure and junk isn’t there? 

Nerd: The pressure is pulling the mass into the centre which keeps the planet whole.

Do you think we could step on Jupiter?

Nerd: I don’t know.

I thought you knew space!

Nerd: I do biology! To get into a biology degree, I did a bunch of biology based subjects! Why would I know anything about space?

I dunno.

I guess if you look like a nerd people just presume.

Nerd: I’ve personally found it’s the confidence. If you act confident enough then everyone presumes you know exactly what you’re doing and you’re in control, no matter how out of place you look. 

I’ll drink to that!

Wait, in what situation would you have learnt this!?!

Nerd: I have a bad habit of accidentally going to the wrong class and just going along with it rather than anything else. Although I should say I did fantastic in that architectural history class. But this habit has caused some awkward situations. I have also impersonated a store manager to explain why me and my friend were there when really he ran into the warehouse searching for a kitten. 

HAH

That’s brilliant

Using your nerdy powers to overthrow society.

Does this mean you’re a liar?

Nerd: I call it ‘managing life’. 

HAH

Sounds about right.

Why are you awake at this time?

Nerd: I could ask you that.

[noona-clock]

The Counselor - Part 3

Genre: Teacher!AU

Pairing: Bobby x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Sexism, Somewhat verbal abuse

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,617

As usual, the weekend went by far too quickly.

Truly, whoever thought that a five-day workweek was a good idea -- whoever had invented that -- you wanted to have a talk.

When you really think about it, how did it make sense that out of seven days in the week, you should go to work for five of them? Why not four? A four-day workweek and a three-day weekend would make the world a much better place, you were convinced.

But, alas. There was nothing you could do to change that right now.

The fact that it was now the second week of school helped a little, though. The second was much easier than the first week, and basically from here on out, the weeks would go by in a flash.

I mean, Monday had already come and gone, and that was the worst day of the week! You’d already gotten it over with!

But now you had to prepare for the pre-test you were giving all of your classes tomorrow. Apparently, you had gotten a bit too overzealous when cleaning out your cabinets during planning, and you’d ended up throwing the test you’d used last year in the recycling bin.

But, hey. If you were going to work late creating a test, it might as well be on a Monday, right?

Just after you opened up your favorite test creator website, there was a soft knock on your door. You always left your door open after school, but you still called out for the guest to come in.

“Hey,” Bobby greeted before you even had the chance to shift your gaze and see who it was.

“Oh, hey,” you replied with a small grin, very quickly glancing at him before getting back to work. Bobby was probably the only co-worker you knew wouldn’t get offended if you didn’t give him your full attention when he came to see you. 

“Whatcha up to?” he asked casually as he shuffled over toward your desk.

With a sigh, you answered, “I’m giving a pre-test tomorrow, but I guess I accidentally trashed the one I gave last year. Gotta make a new one.”

As he usually did, Bobby perched on the edge of your desk, and he grabbed the stress ball from next to your pen holder. “Sounds fun,” he murmured as he threw the stress ball gently up into the air and caught it when it came back down.

You simply hummed unenthusiastically in response and continued typing away on your laptop.

For the next minute or two, the only sounds in your classroom were the clacking of your keyboard and soft thuds of Bobby throwing your stress ball up and down.

This was one reason why you enjoyed and valued your friendship with Bobby so much. He could come to your classroom to talk but the two of you may not end up talking at all -- he didn’t mind. And neither did you.

Still, though, after you finished a few questions, you let out a soft sigh and turned your head wearily over to look at him.

“How was your day?” you asked.

Bobby paused, holding the stress ball in his hand and squeezing it as he looked back at you. “Pretty good, I guess,” he shrugged. “It was Monday, and my appointments are starting to pick up, so the school year is in full swing, I guess.”

“Yep,” you replied with a slight frown. “First week is over, so now the real work begins.”

You let out a mix between a whine and a groan as you leaned back against your chair, spinning around slowly and letting your arms hang down over the armrests.

“Hard at work, I see!”

You immediately sat up, ignoring the inward cringe you felt at hearing that particular voice. You wondered how long it would take you to get used to Principal Howell -- surely, you wouldn’t dislike him for the entire school year.

...Right?

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Howell,” Bobby answered, and you didn’t even need to look at him to know he was smiling that angelic but professional smile of his. “I really shouldn’t be bothering Y/N because she’s trying to get ready for her pre-test tomorrow, but she’s too nice to tell me to leave.”

Truly, thank god for Bobby. You were a nice person, but you weren’t too nice -- you most likely would’ve responded to the principal’s comment with something far too sassy to be considered professional.

“Aha,” Mr. Howell chuckled, wagging a finger toward the two of you. “Sounds like a woman to me.”

You began to push yourself out of your chair, ready to retort back with something even more sassy, but Bobby interrupted you.

“Thanks for checking in, Sir,” he said.

Mr. Howell either understood Bobby’s covert request to leave you alone or he was too stupid to and simply had other things to do (if you were a betting person, you would bet it was the latter) because he shot Bobby a grin and left.

“Are you serious?” you hissed, barely waiting long enough for your boss to be out of earshot. “What the --”

“It was definitely sexist,” Bobby agreed.

You let out a strangled groan and practically threw yourself back against your seat, your strength forceful enough to spin your desk chair around about 180 degrees. “And it’s only the second week!” you cried, throwing two fingers up into the air for emphasis.

Bobby sighed, and all of a sudden, your chair was spinning back around to face him. “If you hear him say anything more, let me know. I’ll start keeping documentation and talk to one of the assistant principals.”

...Had you ever said just how grateful you were to be friends with the school’s guidance counselor? Bobby wasn’t afraid to take care of problems, but he never did it in aggressive way, and you just appreciated that so much.

“Thank you,” you nodded, making sure to look him right in the eyes so he understood you really meant it.

Bobby simply replied with a close-lipped smile before putting your stress ball back beside your pen holder and sliding off your desk.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said as he made his way over to your door. “And let me know if you hear anything else so I can add it to my notes.”

You brought two fingers to your forehead and gave him a quick salute. He returned the gesture just before he stepped into the hallway, making a soft, amused grin appear on your lips.

Normally, you would procrastinate right now. You would’ve told Bobby he didn’t need to leave, and the two of you would’ve start talking about whatever conversation topics came to mind.

But you knew you were going to have to stay late creating this pre-test, and the more you procrastinated, the later you would be here.

So, you sat up straighter in your chair and got right back to work.

“Happy Hump Day, Ms. Y/L/N!” one of the students in your last period class said with a smirk as he waved good-bye to you from your doorway.

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled. “See you tomorrow, Daniel.”

And just before he had fully left your classroom, you called out, “And don’t forget your homework tomorrow! Yesterday’s and today’s!”

“Absolutely!” you heard his voice reply faintly, and you wondered to yourself what the odds were he would actually turn it all in tomorrow afternoon.

You shook your head to yourself, a half-grin tugging at your lips as you began to straighten up your desk. While students like Daniel could be a handful... they were also kinda your favorite ones. Daniel, specifically, was very outgoing and loud -- not to mention forgetful and lazy -- but he was also sweet, thoughtful, and genuinely funny. He made up for the fact he forgot to do his homework 3 out of 4 days with how often he made you laugh or smile -- at least, in your eyes he made up for it. Surely not every one of his teachers felt the same way, but hey. What could you do?

As you put your pens back in your pen cup, your gaze scanned over your calendar to see what was planned for tomorrow -- and then you saw the note for Victoria’s tutoring today.

Oh, yeah!

You had remembered during your third period class earlier today, but you had already forgotten. Such is the life of a busy math teacher -- and that was exactly why you wrote things down so often. If you didn’t, you would never remember anything.

Right on cue, there was a soft knock on your door.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” Victoria’s sweet voice called out, and when you looked up to greet her, you saw she wasn’t alone.

“Hey,” you smiled, raising your eyebrows slightly. You recognized the girl standing next to Victoria as one from your first period class, but you couldn’t pull her name, even from the recesses of your mind.

“I brought Lisa with me,” Victoria explained. “Is that okay?”

Lisa! Yep, that was it. Lisa.

“Of course,” you assured them, gesturing toward the small, kidney bean-shaped table in the back of your classroom. “The more the merrier. ...Except not really because if too many people come for tutoring, it’ll turn into just another class period, and no teacher wants that after school.”

Both Victoria and Lisa giggled as they approached the table, taking off their backpacks and getting out their math textbooks.

You joined them at the table with a grin, pulling out the chair in the notch of the table and sitting down. “Where shall we begin? Anything in particular so far that you want to go over?”

Lisa answered that the lesson you’d taught today had been hard for her to follow, so you started there, having them flip to the chapter in the textbook you’d focused on just a few hours ago.

Since your lesson hadn’t clicked with either of them, you took a different approach to it this time. You used visual aids and tried to think of applicable examples -- especially examples that two teenage girls would appreciate. You had Lisa and Victoria come up with their own examples to make sure they understood, and then you began helping them with the first few questions on their homework.

“Good,” you praised Victoria after checking her solution to the second problem. “Do you feel better about it?”

“A little --”

But Victoria was interrupted by someone -- a male someone -- clearing his throat.

The noise came from your doorway, so you quickly shifted your gaze to see who it --

Oh, lord.

It was Principal Howell.

...And he did not look happy.

“Hi, Sir,” you greeted with a softly wrinkled forehead. “Can I help you?”

“What is going on here?” he asked in clipped tones.

He didn’t sound happy, either.

“I’m just helping them with --”

Mr. Howell stepped into your room, his chest puffed up and his eyebrows raised menacingly. “I don’t recall signing off on this,” he interrupted.

Your heart began to beat a little bit faster. You really didn’t like the way he was speaking, and you especially didn’t like that he was coming toward you.

“Oh, I --”

“I’m sure you’re aware, Ms. Y/L/N, that all after-school activities must be approved? By myself?” he asked, his tone nothing short of patronizing and condescending.

He had stepped too close to the table for your comfort, and since you didn’t want Lisa and Victoria to be physically in the middle of this, you quickly stood, almost knocking your chair over in the process.

“I --”

“I know that you young teachers have all these ideas and think you’re going to change the system, but I specifically said ALL --”

He raised his voice then, and you jumped a little.

“After-school activities need to be approved by me!”

“I’m sorry, Sir, I just thought--”

“Well, it’s very obvious you weren’t thinking, Ms. Y/L/N,” he snapped.

Inside, you were fuming. You were mortified. Terrified. Angry, embarrassed, and scared all rolled into one. You wanted to retort back with something smart and sassy. You wanted to tell him just what you thought of his stupid policy and his sexist remarks.

But on the outside... you found you just couldn’t. You could only gulp nervously and stammer and wring your hands together and --

“Mr. Howell.”

Suddenly, Bobby was standing next to the principal. You jumped a little again, and your heart sped up.

What was Bobby doing here?

Mr. Howell’s glare briefly shifted over to Bobby, and he muttered, “Ah, Mr. Kim. Hello.”

“My apologies, Sir,” Bobby said in his most confident yet casually polite voice. “This is my fault.”

Your brow knit together with confusion. This was all what now?

Mr. Howell looked just as confused as you felt, though there was definitely also some skepticism in his eyes.

“Excuse me?” he asked Bobby.

“I told her tutoring probably doesn’t count as an activity, so she didn’t need to get your permission,” Bobby answered.

...Oh my god. Bobby was taking the blame. 

Even though it was actually the opposite -- he had warned you about the new approval policy, but you had assured him tutoring didn’t count.

“I’m so sorry,” Bobby added.

Bobby had been shuffling around as he spoke, and somehow, he was now fully in-between Mr. Howell and the table, successfully blocking the principal’s view of you.

“I assume she has your approval now?” Bobby asked. “Since it’s just two students, one day a week.”

You held your breath. For some reason, you were convinced Mr. Howell would refuse to give his permission.

But, to your utter surprise and relief, he murmured, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Perfect,” Bobby replied with a grin. “Actually, while I have you, I was wondering if you could take a look at something in my office?”

You held your breath as Bobby escorted Mr. Howell out of your classroom, only letting it out in a short huff when you could no longer hear their footsteps out in the hallway.

You deflated back into your chair and let your head drop onto the table with a thud.

Wow.

That had been --

Wow.

Wow wow wow wow -- oh, god, you weren’t alone.

Immediately, you picked your head back up to look at Lisa and Victoria sitting across from you. “Girls, I am so --”

Both of them looked completely in awe, and apparently, your words were just the sign they needed to spill all of their thoughts.

“Ms. Y/L/N!” they both burst out, their voices somewhat breathless.

“That was so --”

“Mr. Kim!”

“He came to your rescue --”

“Oh, it was so romantic!”

Your head jerked back in surprise when you hear the word romantic.

“Wait, what?” you interrupted, doing nothing to hide the confusion in your tone.

Lisa’s eyes widened, and she asked with wondrous curiosity, “Is Mr. Kim your boyfriend?”

You almost choked on the air you were breathing, but you managed to answer her. “No -- friends. We’re just friends.”

Both Victoria and Lisa’s eyebrows lowered, and they glanced at each other knowingly.

“Are you... sure?” Victoria asked.

“Yes, I am quite sure,” you assured them. “And I’m not just saying that because I don’t want to divulge my personal life. We are just friends.”

They looked at each other again, but this time it was long enough to make you nervous.

So, you asked, “...Why?”

Both girls’ heads whipped back around to face you.

“Well,” Lisa began.

“We think he likes you,” Victoria finished.

Part 4

[johannstutt413]

(requested by coldgoldlazarus)

After losing a game of poker the other night to another Elafia, Gitano had to admit, she was in a bit of a mischievous mood. Together with what she’d wagered during the game - a free tarot reading for the person who took the pot - and it seemed like the perfect chance to get back at her opponent for making her feel like a fool...The only problem with that plan was, after a preliminary reading while she waited for Tsukinogi to arrive, it seemed there was nothing to report but good news. Lying about the results was out of the question, but perhaps if she phrased it correctly, it might worry the shrine maiden all the same. Only one way to know for certain, of course.

“Good evening, Miss Gitano.” Tsukinogi made no show of her entrance, slipping the door open and closed with barely enough noise to catch the fortune-teller’s ears. “You haven’t waited over-long for me, I hope?”

“Good evening, Miss Tsukinogi. No, certainly not. Please, take a seat, and we can begin.” She gestured to the chair in front of her with an omniscient smile.

The shrine maiden reflected that smile with her own as she sat down. “Before we start, I must admit, my shrine offered fortune tellings, but they were more to please our visitors than to accurately predict the future. Considering your reputation, however, I expect your abilities are entirely genuine.”

“Yes...quite.” Gitano shuffled the cards twice more before laying down a 5-card cross. “In these 5 cards, there is much to learn about yourself and your future. We begin with the bottommost card, the baseline, a sort of embodiment of the person you currently are: the Muse. Up to now, you have been considered a gentle soul and a guiding light to many, both here at Rhodes Island and at home. Your service in all your various roles - Catastrophe Messenger, shrine maiden, even dance instructor - has earned you fans and friends in scores, but you continue to give others the credit for your successes.”

“That is quite high praise from a piece of cardboard,” she noted, the disrespect largely incidental at this point. Importantly, the one reading the cards didn’t seem to be excited about that report.

Which just went to show how perceptive the other Elafia was, as the fortune-teller was doing her best to ignore the slight for the time being. “We next go to the leftmost card, the card of motion. For good or ill, it speaks to whether you shall reap the benefits of your good deeds, or suffer misfortune deserved or otherwise...The Sands. Interesting. It seems that your future rests in the balance of a conversation or conversations you will be a part of, although I can’t say if that will be a personal involvement or if you will be the topic of those discussions. The Sands blow in any which direction, and change from moment to moment, so this is addressing your immediate future.”

“Is there an equivalent card for the long-term?” Tsukinogi thought aloud. “Or would that be accounted for differently?”

“Hmm...If you’re interested in the theory, I wouldn’t mind a conversation or two with you after the reading, but I think it best we finish with the task at hand first.”

The shrine maiden shrugged. “As you wish.”

“Right, yes.” Was it just her, or was the temperature in the room increasing? And no one ever asked her about the intricacies of her craft, especially not so directly- no, focus, Gitano. Read the cards for her, not for you. Do you want to end up like your aunt? “The topmost card is the prize, so to speak; the forces that blow the Sands to and fro will bring you...Love?”

“You sound very surprised at some of these results, Gitano.”

The fortune-teller simply nodded; she was rather lost in the act of the reading at the moment. “Yes, it’s not the sort of reading I expected for you today. For all intents and purposes, Love is exactly what it sounds like, but surely you’ve already met someone who fulfills that role in your life?”

“No, I haven’t.” The question and answer seemed to have caught both of them off-guard. “While I was a maiden, I was seen as off-limits by many, and even now, I find those with an interest tend to be inordinately pessimistic about their chances. It’s a pity, but I refuse to stoop to some of the...underhanded tactics I’ve seen in my short time here.”

“As good an excuse as any, truly. Now, where were we- yes, here. The rightmost card represents your most immediate obstacle, in this case what you will have to overcome through discour- in the same reading? What is going on?”

Her subject saw the blue heart split in three pieces and shuddered. “What sort of contemptuous omen is that?”

“It’s Contempt, truthfully enough - Love’s opposite. To find love, you must overcome someone’s hatred? How...utterly bizarre. I’ve done hundreds of readings, but never one where a pair of opposed Elements have appeared, and certainly never so closely together.” Gitano took a moment to collect herself. “Perhaps the last card can clarify things for us; as the entire reading has been steering towards this revelation of a budding romance for you, this card will likely tell us something of that...person’s...identity...Son of a bitch.”

“You seem to have a strong opi- oh.” With her own abilities, she was able to discern what that opinion was, and frankly, she understood the reaction.

Nonetheless, the Elafia tarot master was a consummate professional, so she carried on in spite of her own dread. “The Speaker is someone who has grasped a great truth and shares it openly with others, sometimes at their request and sometimes out of a burning need to do so. It is also the card I see most often when dealing with other fortune-tellers, as we are those who speak for the cards...I’m sorry in advance, truly.”

“Sorry?” Tsukinogi half-smiled at her. “Sorry for what? This is honestly rather wonderful news, as far as I’m concerned.”

“No, not for the reading, or the results, but for my own feelings. I had hoped to get back at you today for the game this reading was wagered on, perhaps by being able to personally tell you of misfortune soon to pass or something like that, but in the end, the cards put me in my place, as they always have and always will. Will you forgive me?”

She thought for a moment, sensing the genuine regret in Gitano’s voice but unsure how best to respond. “Playing poker with me at the table was rather unfair to you all, I think, simply because few people are as perceptive as me. Watching you pout and steam at losing those close hands was very cute, I must admit.”

“...And?” The other Elafia looked at her curiously. “There’s no but, no conditional?”

“No. It was truly the highlight of my evening, seeing you lose yourself in the game like that. You nearly outdid yourself when you found out the reading was just as much about you as me.” Tsuki leaned forward, all smiles-

As the fortune-teller let out a groan. “This is so cliche, though. My aunt met her husband reading his palm, and here I am, in the exact same situation.”

“You think I’m husband material?” The shrine maiden shrugged. “It’s an interesting proposal, if nothing else.”

“I...You...Oh, alright, I’ll give it a chance, but I make no guarantees.”

Tsukinogi took that as her cue to step out of her chair and sit in Gitano’s lap. “Certainly. That’s what the cards are for, yes? Not that you’ll have any hands free for them~”

[brujahinaskirt]

@missn11​ says:

Ask and ye shall receive, fellow neonate! <3 Bear with me, because I’m about to hammer out 2000 words very quickly...

This massive rant by its topic nature is sort of Nines-critical, so lemme start by saying that, in my own way, I love Rodriguez. (I was partially self-burning in the shitpost that ignited this rant because I SEVERELY exaggerated Nines’s canonical shadiness levels in my ancient fanfiction, and for no other reason than because I was a teenage edgelord. I am appropriately embarrassed, but only by my excess and melodrama, not by Troika’s characterization. I think the writing behind VTMB’s Nines is superb.)

When it comes to Bloodlines, I think he’s one of the most psychologically interesting profiles in the game. In fact, I could never get into LA by Night because they so de-toothed Troika’s vision of him. Not to say LA by Night’s Nines was a poorly-developed character in his own right, ‘cause he wasn’t at all, but “my” Nines will always be unapologetically and only Troika’s: boiling angry, viciously pragmatic, a survivor who doesn’t let anyone too close lest they see through him, whose over-the-top confident façade cracks a little more every time his back’s against the wall. Troika’s Nines is the epitome of greater VTM’s “fallen rebel” archetype, and even though we don’t get to see it on all playthoughs, that makes it even better and more believable.

But as with all characterization in Bloodlines, we have to read between the lines and between our own play styles a bit to piece the truth of the puzzle together...

Besides the direct evidence Troika gives us—i.e. the music cues, which are a bit overbearing if I’m honest (sorry, Troika! ilu); the absence of Nines in Rosa’s prophecy re: people you can trust; and the overt warnings Camarilla-aligned characters give us about him—the biggest red flag about Rodriguez, imo? It’s twofold:

the way the characters he surrounds himself with talk about him and the type of vampire he chooses to fill his den. Namely: Nines exclusively recruits angry, spurned, mistreated people who are younger and far less experienced than he is

those messy, ugly, fleeting moments where you see his toughguy everyman personality crack

So! Starting with point one:

THE PERSONALITY CULT ITSELF

We can’t deny that Nines does not surround himself with peers. He surrounds himself with followers—people who don’t challenge him in any way, who are fanatically loyal, who openly profess their worship of him and their conviction he could never/would never do anything wrong. If you listen to how Damsel and Skelter talk about him, it’s with frightening adulation, often repeating Nines’s lines word-for-word without truly understanding the argumentation behind them. (Damsel’s the main offender here with her “IT’S A PYRAMID SCHEME… it just makes sense, you know? It just makes sense!” And then, of course, she gets pissed and refuses to speak to you when you push her into elaborating.)

Nines has clearly made himself much more than just a friend-figure or a Sire-figure to them. He’s utterly and completely mythologized by the LA Anarchs, held up next to other politically mythologized names like George Washington and Ho Chi Minh. His followers love him… but there’s a pecking order, and like good body shields, they believe their lives don’t matter as much as he matters. And they love that, too. They want to die for Nines. They’re not just willing to or resigned to it; they’re eager to die. Damsel will volunteer this information the first time you meet her. She just can’t wait to prove herself by taking a bullet for goddamn Nines Rodriguez. It’s literally how she introduces herself to new people.

And yet Nines deliberately withholds his attention and time from his followers. He uses his attention as a reward, as incentive. He rations some care and reassurance and help—makes you feel good and gives you reason to crave his attention—and then he pushes you away, back into his adoring ranks until the next “two minutes” you earn from him in which you’re special enough for such an exceptional, important, cool guy to talk to. That’s a classic manipulation tactic, and a classic personality cult tell.

And Troika is so damn fuckin’ brilliant about it because they don’t stop at showing us that an Anarch-aligned fledgling might feel this way—no, they make the PLAYER also feel this way. On our first playthrough of Bloodlines, we’re desperate to talk to Nines. We want the reward. “Let me finish the plaguebearer quests… let me run to the Elizabeth Dane… I hope Nines talks to me again now! Quick, to the Last Round! Maybe if I say the right thing to make him like me, he’ll give me another free EXPERIENCE POINT!” (iirc he’s one of two characters who will do so, and the only one who gives multiple points.)

But at the end of the day, Nines is indisputably the leader of the Anarchs, and even fledgling figures that out. (“Sounds like you’re the Prince of the Anarchs.”) He’s very much the Baron of Downtown LA, even if he won’t use that language. As for the grating day-to-day management and leadership stuff that might make him somewhat unpopular among the Anarchs, though? He fobs all that stuff off on Damsel!

Damsel, his Minion No. 1—whom a lot of players will hate on their early playthroughs, because she assigns tough missions with little to no reward. Damsel, who has no real power role in the Anarchs and functions only to serve Nines. You help Damsel, and you do Nines’s work—i.e. you do the work of the Barony of LA—and he doesn’t even have to take the admiration hit by having to ask you himself.

There’s only one non-follower of note around Nines. It’s Jack, and by his own words, he’s not one of Nines’s people; he disparages them, in fact. And we’ll notice that Jack—who is stronger, older, and wiser than Nines—very much doesn’t talk about Nines the same way Nines’s followers do. While Jack doesn’t directly insult him and occasionally defends him, Jack also has a downright shocking response to the announcement of the Blood Hunt. When fledgling desperately asks what they can do to help Nines—Jack says, word-for-word: I could give a damn.

Something ain’t quite right about this place.

Moving right along:

NINES IS A FAKE ALPHA MALE WHO KNOWS HE’S GOING TO DIE

Part of why Nines is so attractive to someone scared and weak like our fledgling (or Skelter or Damsel) is that he seems utterly fucking untouchable—like nothing scares him, and that must be reassuring when two of your age-old enemies are moving into town. But Nines’s tough, cool, Devil-may-care persona outs itself as a protective shell, too… and this is another thing I think Troika handled so subtly and so well.

You’ll notice that even Nines’s voice is dramatically different in a couple different situations: when Ming Xiao is borrowing his body, when he’s afraid, and when he’s distracted or deeply disturbed. (A successful Malkavian mind read will really slam a crack in his coolguy persona. For a second, the nonchalance shatters and he childishly screams SHUT UP!)

But whether you Malk him or not: In those isolated moments, the Coolguy Nines Rodriguez we normally see frays. Physically, even! His accent loses its burr (that ballsy rural American everyman accent), shoots up to a higher register—and reveals a much softer voice than the one he uses in front of other people. No wonder; part of Nines’s charisma comes from his performance of masculine confidence, and even if it’s not a toxically patriarchal masculinity in the way we often picture it, the fact this performance cracks at all shows it’s not his genuine self. He’s acting. In the way a lot of toughguy men do—but for Nines, whose survival depends upon attraction now, he’s acting toughguy for his very life.

I think those little fray-under-pressure moments are the “real” Nines, or as close as we’re going to get: scared, desperate, worn-down, and very aware of his doom.

Now, all that said…

BLATANT FALLEN REBEL CONCEPT APOLOGISM

I don’t think we can quite throw Rodriguez into the same Mean Monster Morality Dungeon for Evil Vampires as other Big Bads in LA. This is where motivation comes into play, at least for me. We know Nines can be merciless and violent, and he doesn’t hesitate to sacrifice his own soldiers (namely, um, US!) to protect his holdings. But he does seem to have a twinge of genuine anger over injustices wrought upon “little people” (look no further than Nocturne)—one that seems like it stems from a sense of right v. wrong rather than sheer pragmatism. This stands in stark opposition to the rationed pacificism of characters like LaCroix, who simply doesn’t want the headache of cleaning up a pile of dead humans on his nightly to-do list.

Nines also, of course, just doesn’t have the same kind of disaster reach other Bloodlines Big Bads do in how much harm he can cause. When LaCroix gets up to some bullshit, he crashes the national economy. Nines, like, crashes a car into a corporate office window or takes over a street or something. Can’t really compare the two when it comes to the scale of damage done.

And even Nines Rodriguez is, for all his strategy, still an honestly angry person. Not all of him is fake—what’s troubling about him is what he’s willing to sacrifice and do to satiate his anger-passion. It’s the standard Brujah emotional-moral struggle. Even though I agree with much of what he says about bloodsucking late capitalist vampires (tbh he seems to hate vampires in general!), one wonders if it’s not partially the anger-passion that’s warped him into the façade of a noble leader he’s become. It’s not a pure anger anymore; he’s weaponized it in selfish, unhealthy, destructive ways.

But if he’s a fallen rebel—and since he is still apparently capable of some genuine anger and sadness—then we can infer he wasn’t always like this. He fell, and narratively, that’s key to understanding Clan Brujah. Maybe he fell in a way all of us angry rebel-types risk falling if we let our hatred of the bloodsuckers in real life outgrow and consume our care for the real-world little people.

I think we also have to appreciate that—as far as we know—the shady shit Nines does, he primarily does to prolong his power. But for a threatened Anarch like Nines, power doesn’t mean expansion or accumulation as it might for an ascending Ventrue; it primarily means survival. The Camarilla and Kuei-jin incursions into LA have numbered his days, and he can’t possibly have any delusions about this, no matter how much he swaggers. So he does what he can do with the skills and limited resources he has. He corrupts vulnerable, angry, abused people by giving them the appearance of friendship, family, and hope they can become stronger—much like effective gang leaders do.

If he’s morally nastier than other power-players like LaCroix in some way, imo, it’s here. It’s the intimacy with which he manipulates the people around him. LaCroix may lie to you; Strauss may withhold information from you; Ming Xiao may double-cross you. But none of them ask that you love them. That’s not their goal; that’s not how they operate. None of them expect or encourage anyone to happily die for them of their own free will. If they get you killed, you’ll die resenting them—resenting that you had to die, at all.

But when you die for people like Nines Rodriguez, you do it willingly, if only because you believed he cared somehow and that he’d fight tooth-and-nail for you, too. You believed that you were a member of his little outcast family—or that you would be, if you just proved yourself a little bit more. If you just fought a little harder. If you were just a little happier about having the chance to die for the cause. Maybe if you die for Nines, then Nines will love you, too.

I don’t think he does. I don’t think he will. If he’s a true fallen rebel archetype, I don’t know if he can anymore.

That’s enough Anarchs for now! I’m gonna peace out with some copy/pasted lyrics from the theme song of Nines’s den: the ballad of the charming and vengeful Lecher Bitch. Stay sharp, my little Bloodlines fanatics!

Tell me your story Don't worry, I've been there Crown me your savior Don't worry, I'll be there

[Chorus] I said hey You're coming all the way I've got some hell to pay I'm diggin' all the way All the way down I said hey You're coming all the way I've got some hell to pay Gonna rip you every way On the way down again [Bridge] Don't belong lording above me Won't be hard to pull you underground It won't be long 'til you love me And I'll be coming at your back To break it down

[delicrieux]

Hello! May I have a one-shot with Kylo being injured and reader, who is part of the resistance, finds him and takes care of him? Thanks!

idk how this turned out to be 5k words but WHEW i mean if ppl want me to continue it im down so send in sum request of wat u think should happen!! xoxo gossip girl

requests are open! | masterlist | part 2.

Fear. The kind that makes it hard to breathe as if you are kept underwater; the kind that makes your muscles clench and freeze as all senses flow out one by one. Today had been almost too typical — you woke up, you trained, you talked to your comrades and learned battle strategy — and you were certain your evening walk would be just as uneventful. The breeze in your hair was playful; the setting sun provided warm light and set your surroundings in a pleasant, rosy glow. You like the fresh air; you like exploring; you like the freedom that comes with being alone in wilderness. And in turn, it serves as a reminder for why you are fighting in the first place. To preserve this peace, this freedom, that now has been tarnished when you stumble upon a body.

For a heartbeat you think he’s dead — his expression is lifeless and his face, pale as first snow, is bruised, covered in soot and dried blood. Willing your legs to move, you approach cautiously, not breathing, afraid to break the shrill, sudden silence — no birdsong, no wails of wind passing through trees… nothing. Life had, at that moment, stilled completely. But as you draw closer, grass crunching under your feet softly, you intake a breath of both relief and surprise. Dark locks of hair spray on his forehead and obscure the minuscule knit of his brows, his trembling lashes. He’s alive. The thought consumes you and you fall to your knees, skidding beside him, pushing his hair from his face and landing your palm on his forehead.

It’s awfully cold. Chilling. Almost biting at your sensitive flesh, urging you to pull away. It rolls in waves, this sudden cold, sudden sickness, as if it is a virus that spreads and you have caught it with this minimal contact. But you don’t pull away, despite the near overwhelming urge to do so, despite the fear returning with a new blow. Instead you glide your fingers down his jaw and press on his neck, breaking into a small, crooked smile once you feel a slow drum against them. He is alive, but barely. You glance about him, looking around the area. Nothing out the ordinary, no branches broken, no bushes disturbed and no trails left on the grass. How he got here is a mystery that will have to be solved a different time.

You hope he will tell you once he wakes up, if he even wakes up at all.

That, and, his name, too.

Your base is small and tugged away in a dense jungle, the tall trees and heat warding from unwanted visitors — the First Order. The compartments are small; there are barely above a few dozen people here; it serves more as a safe haven for lost wanderers looking for a cause or shelter, or a backup base in case others were destroyed and the rebels had nowhere to go. It is far away enough from war. Everyone here is, to some extent, safe.

You had never been on the front lines. You had never faced a Storm Trooper, had never seen the Force at work — if there even is such a thing, speculations speculations, nothing consistent, merely gossip — and you had never seen a dead body. Perhaps that is why you froze up so terribly at the sight of him. Perhaps that’s why you felt as if a void opened within you, swallowing up the last shred of light, of life, and leaving you hollow.

You should get used to the sight, though. There will be many dead in battle.

He’s the only one occupying a bed in the Medical Wing and he hasn’t woken up for two days now. His vitals are stable — no internal bleeding, no disease detected, nothing out of place as it seemed. But he is lost in deep sleep, constantly dreaming about something that made him tremble and muss and toss and turn, but never wake. It is entirely bizarre how his state is simply there, caused by no injury, no blow, nothing. And the more you take care of him… the more questions you get.

You eat in the cafeteria, a vast enough, pale walled space occupied by few people during lunch time. Next to you sits a blue eyed, blonde haired cherubic woman – she serves as the doctor, the only doctor here. She smiles lightly at you when you catch her gaze. You had always wondered why her name is Vendetta. 

The amount of denizens is small here, so small in fact that the only ones serving under this branch is a rag tag team of scavengers, travelers, nobodies that had abandoned their old lives to fight in this war. Rebels, quite literally, with a cause. Many have taken new names. Vendetta, too, had a name before this, a life, a different purpose. Though her odd choice leads you to believe that what ever had happened to drive her here was painful and severe, deserving justice. In front of you sits a tall, bony, brown haired, brow eyed mechanic with a scar running down half of their face – Q. And beside them, July – you had never seen him smiling, had never heard his voice hold a tender note in it. He is always displeased. Always with a frown.

“Seven.” Vendetta calls you, noting your blank stare, the untouched food in your plate. Seven. You chose this because you were the seventh child in your family, and, subsequently, the seventh person to join the Resistance when this base first opened.

“She’s probably thinking about the stranger.” Q mutters, taking a sip, “His origins are…” They glance about, leaning in slightly, “ A hot topic, after all.”

“We get injured wanderers all the time.” Vendetta waves them off, “As if he’s any different.”

“I don’t think we should be so quick to dismiss him, V.” July grumbles, his voice low, the sound of crunching gravel. He sits with his arms crossed over his chest, observing the three of you with something akin to hostility, “You never know who may be working for the Order.”

“You can’t just assume that.” You pipe up, “He might just be another gambler dropped by the Floating Casino because he couldn’t pay his debts.”

“Or he might be a spy.” July stresses, glaring.

“No one knows there is a base here.” You continue, unrelenting, “Half the Resistance doesn’t know it exists, how can someone from the Order?”

“Still, I advice we exercise caution.” Q says calmly, a pleasant smile on their face — if anyone can defuse an argument before it starts, it’s them, “You never know what people are hiding, Seven.”

“Okay,” Vendetta chimes, “I will certainly not disclose this vital information when the man awakes from his comatose state. I shall make sure to confuse and frighten him further by chaining him to his bed.”

“Good.” July says.

“That is not what I had in mind, and you know it.” Q mutters, a tad disappointed, “I was thinking more along the lines of… An interview.”

“Too civil.” July mumbles, “I say we go with Vendetta’s idea.”

“That was not an idea,” She hisses, “it was sarcasm.”

“Fine, interview.” You submit, “Either way, I doubt anyone from the Order would not say they are from there. They are feared. Probably would think he has the upper hand, or something. Plus, our disguise is impeccable. We look like a research facility. Better yet, a shelter if no one wanders up to the main rooms.”

“I also sincerely doubt anyone, Order or not, is so good at lying first thing when they wake up.” Vendetta agrees.

July narrows his eyes at her, “That is an awfully naive observation to make.”

“Really now? It is a known fact that people half-asleep always tell the truth.”

Another hour of this and you feel drained and sore and with a mild headache. As much as their company has helped you, they can be a bit too eager to prove one another wrong. On most occasions you’d enjoy the chatter. Today, however, you feel too distracted to focus on anything. Q makes some good points, July argues, Vendetta and her biting comments pick at your skin. Always the blazing look in her eyes, always a certain gleam of anger hiding within her mellow, sweet tone. You excuse yourself when you finish your meal and they do not keep you from leaving. Perhaps they noticed you being out of it. Perhaps they were too caught up in their new topic – Lo and Chester’s sudden break up. 

It does not take you long to come to the Medical Wing. The door shuts with a silent sweep and your heart drops – the bed is empty. Before you can do much else strong arms wrap around you from behind. With a yelp you feel a hand squeeze your throat and your breath leaves you with a helpless whine, sparks flying in your vision. Your reflexes kick in before you can control them. In a panic, you elbow your attacker in the chest and the grip loosens a bit, enough to allow you to escape and put some distance. Inhaling mouthfuls of air, you turn to the man that had been sleeping since you found him in the wilderness.

You never quite realized how tall he is, or how angry he could be. He’s confused and you see fire in his eyes, a sneer on his face, and he stands unmoving, waiting for you to try something, anything, so that he could grab you and try to kill you again.

You raise your hands, palms up —a fragile, harmless motion to indicate you mean no harm. His guard is still up. He’s heaving and his shoulders are tense, his gaze not once leaving your form, “…Hi,” You wheeze, almost voiceless, “I’m not here to hurt you.” You indicate softly. Cold, again, as if thrown into a bottomless ocean; body heavy, like a stone. You gulp. “Are you alright?” You question gently, afraid to provoke him again. “You must be tired. You’ve been out for a while.”

“Where am I?” His voice is deep and scratchy and it seems to set him off. He trembles from anger, you can almost feel the steady build up of rage in his chest, ”Who are you?”

“I’m Seven.” You introduce, “I found you outside our base. Do you know how you got here?”

He takes a threatening step forward and your arms shoot higher, “I’m not your enemy.” You insist, “You are not a prisoner here. You were dying and I wanted to help you.”

He regards you for a silent moment as if unsure whether to believe you or not. However, you sense that he will not try to hurt you, for now at least. You give him a shaky smile, trying to ease him — you cannot imagine how frightening it is to awake in some room among strangers and not knowing where you are or what had happened. “Do you…know your name?” You continue your questions, your arms slowly falling by your sides. After another pause, he nods curtly, “Good. That’s good.” you step away from his bed, “Please, lie down. You’re still recovering. No shady business, I promise.”

You are a bit surprised that he listens, but you don’t show it. He’s cautious, regarding you as if you were some dangerous animal cornering him, and his walk is sluggish. You can tell it’s hard for him to move, but don’t say anything. You doubt it would do any good. He finally sits down and just stares at you. You try to smile again, “Do you know how you got here? It’s okay if you don’t.”

“How long have I been here for?” He asks instead.

“Two full days in the base.” You say calmly, “But out there?” You vaguely motion with your head to the outside world, “I don’t know.”

Your answer unnerves him. For the first time his frown falls and he stares at you with big eyes and a trembling lip, as if a lost child not knowing what to do. That expression warps suddenly and he looks away, his hands gripping the side of the bed so tightly his knuckles turn white. 

“Well, if there is…anything you need…” You start mildly, “You can call upon me. Or Vendetta. She’s the doctor here, so if you feel any pain or sickness, you should tell her. She’s sweet.” You smile, “And she will help. But right now, just try to rest…I’ll…leave you to it.”

You bolt past him to the door but– “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

You turn back to him, shaking your head lightly, “No. But it doesn’t matter. A lot of adventures come through here, lost and injured. You aren’t the first one. Now rest, please.”

He’s volatile, is what you learn upon the first days of his resurrection. His mood can change in a flip of a coin and he goes from placid to enraged in a blink of an eye. Tantrums, yelling — all signatures of a spoiled child not knowing what he has but simply wanting to break it. He’s nobility, or so your peers gossip. You hear snippets of all sorts of things, each more outrageous than the one before. The one that he is a prince kicked out of home for adultery seems to be the most popular one.

And he’s egotistical. He had not been, besides the attempted murder, that hostile and untamed towards you — the choking you told no one about as you concluded he simply felt threatened and scared. Though his other tantrums you are not so quick to chalk up as self-defense. Vendetta, exasperated, one evening told you that she somehow offended him — ”All I said is stop pouting because you need my help!” — and he, with a bruised ego, so high and mighty promptly jumped out of bed. Whatever he was trying to do backfired — perhaps he was trying to leave, or trying to grab something and to hit her with — but he slipped and fell and hit his head into the sharp corner of table. “And I said to him, oh I said: look what you’ve done now! Off to bed, quickly!” Vendetta finished bitterly, stabbing her fork idly into her food, possibly imagining his face there. His nose, much to V’s displeasure, was not broken, but an ugly gash and a dark bruise split his skin in half and he laid in bed sulking for at least a day.

As the week passed, he seemed to favor your company the most. It is not that he smiled and joked and laughed in your presence, and you were not exchanging secrets or hugging or even calling each other friends. He simply seemed to be more mellow around you, possibly because you oddly knew what to say and what to keep silent. It is as if you sensed the subtle shift of his moods; could read his expressions in a way no one could, perhaps no one tried. And you would come and visit him as often as you could when relieved of your duties — you felt responsible for him in a way, and you wondered if you would still feel this weight on your shoulders when he eventually left this place. After all it was you that had found him lying in the grass; it was you that had insisted to help him; and now, it is you that brings him food and tries to provide some comfort in a form of conversation. You don’t pry into his past, don’t even ask for his name, because you know he does not want to give it, and you won’t risk questioning in fear of another explosion of his temper. You talk about inconsequential things: what’s happening around the base, what sort of plants grow around here, what bugs could kill him before he took two steps. He especially enjoys hearing the rumors about him, even if he is too prideful to admit that they amuse him greatly.

“And what if I am?” He questions one evening, something akin to a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes, a kind hazel color that could be beautiful if not for the persistent angry spark within them that is now, seemingly, vacant, watch you closely.

You frown softly, “Are what?” You question, “A prince?” He nods. You snort, “Well then, your majesty, I shall make sure to inform the others. What will be your first decree?” 

He pretends to think, “No more slacking around.” He says sternly, “This is supposed to be a military base, isn’t it?” He ends on a cheeky note. You gulp. Ah, yes, you might have let it slip that he’s in one of the Resistance’s safe houses, though you did not disclose the coordinates.

“On a mission to make fun illegal, are you?” You ask with a raised brow. 

He frowns, “Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too!”

Childish, really, though you suppose it is better than arguing with July.

You feel it before you hear it— rain and thunder. The merciless patter on the roof and on your window. In night the sound is almost deafening — a loud roar of an engine, followed by cracks of lightning and flashes in the dark sky. You would have slept through it if not for the pins and needles washing your skin behind the warm sheets thrown on your body. You stir. Thunder roars and a flash of bright white light illuminates your room and seeps through the cracks of your lashes. Cold, again, as if standing in the middle of a storm.

You finally sit up, rubbing your face and then looking around to see if your friends are playing some sort of joke on you. You were almost certain they had dragged you outside and left you to get drenched. But you are alone in your room and you frown and shiver from the biting cold. Groggily you throw the sheets away and leave your bed, not entirely certain where you are going but there is a pull in your gut and half-asleep you follow it. You think you might still be dreaming —the rain on your dry skin feels real, though all dreams feel real until you awake. You leave the dormitories and take the elevator to the first floor. The base is silent, save for the shrill of machinery. Finally, still in your pajamas and almost fully awake, you step past the main entrance and stop.

It’s pouring, a curtain of rain obscuring the confusing contours of trees and leaves and bushes. The darkness does not help. A bleak light pulses to life once you pass the sensor and your surroundings illuminate. Thunder, lighting, more rain. You stand safe and dry under the roof, and he stands at the very edge of it, half soaking, his face kissed and washed by the rain.

You are not sure what to think. He seems lonely standing there surrounded by darkness and water. It’s whispers, or something akin to that, that urge and beseech that he does not want to be alone. You hear them somewhere in the back of your mind. If he noticed you, and he should have with the light suddenly on, he does not show it. You approach him slowly, your footsteps concealed over the heavy drum of rain.

“Not used to it, are you?” You ask, your voice followed by a bolt of thunder. He stirs, head tilting in your direction. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet — there is no hostility in them, no anger, just a distant sadness. You give him a soft smile, “I can tell you don’t see it often. I didn’t, either, at first. I grew up surrounded by deserts and I had not seen a drop of rain for at least eighteen years. But, here… Well, there’s no shortage of it. We have storms at least once a week. You’ll grow sick of it before you leave, trust me.”

He says nothing, still looking at you. The light sniffs out. Both of you stand unmoving.

“Why are you here?” He asks, a note of genuine confusion slipping past his calm tone.

“I… don’t know.” You admit. A frown pulls on your brows and you bite your lower lip, staring into the heavy curtain of rain, “I…I really don’t know.” You turn to him, “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, savoring the silence. Then, “I got bored laying in bed.” Somehow you feel that anxiety has more to do with his sudden nightly venture, rather than actual boredom. Though, you suppose it is quite tedious doing nothing all day. You imagine he is active, judging by his built. He has a strong character and he knows what he wants (most of the time), or rather has a distinct sense of what he doesn’t want. You imagine he’d be a good commander, or leader, with his deep voice and unrelenting stare, if only he wasn’t so sensitive. He’s too unpredictable. Too uncontrollable. His emotions get the better of him too quickly for him to be unbiased. For that reason alone you deem him unfit to be a spy, or a soldier, or a figure of military power. He’d burn all he would build if that were the case. No, him being of noble birth and being stranded here as some sort of twisted punishment sounds believable enough.

“What are you thinking?” He questions, drawing you out of your thoughts. You hum, ponder whether you should be honest with him or not. “Don’t lie to me.” He says suddenly and you jolt, heart drumming painfully in your chest. For a frightening moment you figured he could read your mind. Then again, you have been spending a lot of time together. He must have noticed how gentle you are with him, how carefully you pick your words. His signature frown is back, you see it for a second when lightning strikes.

“I was thinking about your life.” You admit, “Your work. Whether you really are a royal as most of my crew mates seem to think.”

Flash. You see half a smile blooming on his lips.

“But I know you won’t tell me. Don’t worry, I get it. Ladies love a mystery.”

“What?”

It’s your turn to grin, “Oh, please, it’s almost all I hear about. Seven brought a brooding stranger with a secret past into the base. Lo…Michel… Two of your rapid admirers. I already told you that your arrival has sparked many speculations.”

“I…I haven’t…” He sounds uncertain, flustered almost, as if embarrassed, but there is no way he is, you refuse to believe it. He stumbles upon his words and lastly says nothing. You snicker silently. Another flash of lightning and you see the same confused, puppy-like look on his face you have had the pleasure of seeing once or twice. He does not shield it this time, this moment of vulnerability. He probably doesn’t see the point because darkness obscures everything again.

You extend your hand to him as a silent offering. How many things have you offered him now? Life, health, your company. He regards it, ponders a bit, lastly gently clasps his hand over yours. You jerk. Electricity courses through you and your eyes go wide, tingles rushing all over your body. Lightning strikes. You see wonder on his face, a mimic of your own surprised expression.

“Come on,” You stutter, tugging him, “you’ll catch a cold.” He follows after you. The light blinks on. You don’t know what is happening. Couldn’t have been the thunder, the feeling is not as intense. It felt more like a build up of energy; like you accidentally touched a circuit and it zapped you.

Impossible, you hear something alike his voice but not quite — it’s quiet, distant, muddy.

“Hm?”

“What?”

Once inside, the door sweeps shut behind you, “What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything.” He sounds a bit ticked now, and you decide to drop it.

“Oh,” You mutter, “must’ve imagined it, then.”

His hand is cold in yours and you squeeze it just a bit, hoping he won’t notice and hoping that you will warm it. When you reach the Medical Wing, you tilt your head and say, “Wait here. I’ll get you dry clothes from the storage.”

But as you turn to leave he doesn’t let go, though doesn’t say anything either. He’s choked up — either he doesn’t know how to say it or doesn’t want to say it at all. He doesn’t want to be alone. Those whispers come again, ringing in your ears so quietly you aren’t sure they’re even there. You give him a soft smile, catching his gaze, “Okay, we can go together. You’ll probably stay here for at least another week, so, it’s best you know where the storage is anyway.” There’s no rush in your words, no annoyance, just simple acceptance. It eases him, relieves him of saying and admitting things he’s not willing to bring to light.

The walk is quiet and you still hold hands. His is much bigger than yours, rough, though not unpleasant. They are hands of a man that uses them often — for better, or for worse — and a twinge in your heart, a sudden thud of uncertainty, informs you that your previous speculations might have not been correct at all. His hand doesn’t feel like that of a prince (not that you would know what that would feel like), no, it feels like a hand of a soldier. But that inching of something amiss is swept away by warmth, silent happiness, a certain deliriousness that starts blooming within you and spreading all around. You feel him, somehow; feel a connection. You can’t put it into words exactly, you doubt you could ever explain it to anyone. It’s fragile. And beautiful. And maddening that such a devout emotion is sprung by something as innocent as holding hands

You wonder if he feels it. You somehow know he does.

The storage room is not big. Your hand slips from his as he chooses to stand by the doorway and you rummage to get his things. You feel braver. Perhaps it’s the tiredness that leaves you so open and bold, but searching you can’t help but ask, “So tell me…” You start, handing him some towels, “What were you actually doing? Besides being melodramatic.” You add, your lips quirking upwards.

He regards you with lively eyes and you see a grin lift his cheeks. He’s smiling, actually smiling, and you know this action is precious and rare and you can’t help but beam at him in return, “You think I was being melodramatic?” He questions.

You laugh a little, a breathless bell-like “Yes” falling from your lips as you fetch him dry clothes from the upper shelf, “All you needed was a cape to swing around.”

His expression abruptly falls and the temperature drops with it.

“Right, no cape.” You mumble, a tad disappointed, handing him his clothes.

As you make your way back, you can’t help but saying, “I just thought it would suit you, is all.”

“What else do you think would suit me?”

You raise a brow, trying to keep up with his drastic shift in moods: again, hes smiling, then he’s pensive, now he seems lighthearted, genuinely curious. “You like to ask a lot of questions.” You conclude.

He shrugs, “I’m just trying to figure out what you think of me.”

“And why are you curious?”

“Now you are the one asking a lot of questions.” He points out. You snort.

“You started it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

This again, followed by quiet chuckles. You don’t turn to the Medical Wing now, instead stopping by the elevator and pressing the red button. The doors slide open. You glance at him.

“So…” You mumble, “This is not how I imagined my night going, but…” You aren’t quite sure how to finish, how to vocalize the strange swirl of emotions in your chest, “Well, goodnight.”

You step into the elevator, going to push the button—“Ben.” He says suddenly, making you flinch and turn to him. He’s not looking at you, instead staring at the floor, “My name. It’s Ben.”

Again, that same energy, that same shock you felt when you first touched his hand ignites your body with something closely akin to happiness. Trust. Bond. He trusts you. The connection you felt was not an exaggeration. He would not have given you his name otherwise.

“Goodnight, Ben.” You say softly, fighting a smile that’s trying to rise on your face, “Sweet dreams.”

“…Goodnight, Seven.”

As the elevator doors shut, you think you hear him say “Thank you”, but that might have just been your imagination.

.

hope you liked it! xxx

.

[alywats]

An Imaginary Number... Sounds Fake But Okay

Imaginary numbers, or, the square roots of negative numbers. For many their introduction is the point at which mathematical reality starts to feel disconnected from physical reality. My friend had this to say about imaginary numbers when asked: “When I first encountered imaginary numbers I thought they were absolutely ridiculous. Biggest math turn-off. I guess my concept of math at the time was that things were real and concrete, equations were something I could trust. Then they threw in imaginary numbers. It sounded silly to me.” Now, from a mathematician’s perspective this can be exciting, from a high school student’s perspective, though, this can be a betrayal. And neither of these sentiments are new; imaginary numbers have been both compelling and dividing throughout their journey to acceptance within mainstream mathematics. But where did they get such an infuriating name?

It was in the first century CE that the story of imaginary numbers begins, with Heron of Alexandria and his calculations involving a pyramidal frustum (the bottom of a pyramid, with the top chopped off). Measurements of length were always positive, of course, but he realized that negative numbers could or should have square roots too. It seems that his notational limitations prevented much further investigation, so Heron left these uncomfortable calculations behind.

Once notation caught up to the problem of taking square roots of negative numbers, mathematicians couldn’t keep ignoring them. It was the sixteenth century, and the Renaissance was full of new mathematical ideas, so it was time for Italian mathematician Girolamo Cardano to revisit these types of numbers in his studies of cubic equations . It is important to note here that the study of cubic equations was the main motivation for understanding imaginary numbers, because “mathematicians could easily dismiss the square root of -121 when it appeared as a solution to x2+121=0,” as this has no real solutions, “ but they could not so easily ignore the square root of -121 when it played such a pivotal role in yielding the solutions [to a cubic].” Cubics were the catalyst because they relied on the use of imaginary numbers as the bridge to a real solution, without using them we would be missing some of the very real solutions to cubic equations –something that mathematicians didn’t see with quadratics. Within cubics the imaginary numbers will often end up cancelling out, leaving regular old real solutions that work, and mathematicians couldn’t deny the legitimacy of that!

Cardano was perhaps the first mathematician to keep going with calculations after finding a negative number under the radical, he took the dive and decided to see what would happen, but we know from his writings that he found himself stuck and ill at ease with this use of what we now know as imaginary numbers. Cardano writes in the 1545 Ars Magna “a second type of the false position makes use of roots of negative numbers,” and goes on to say “it is evident that this case or question is impossible. Nevertheless, we shall solve it in this fashion.” He died before he really came to terms with the mathematics he was working with, but luckily he was followed by another mathematician who was equally willing to wade through uncomfortable calculations.

Rafael Bombelli, another Italian mathematician, wrote a treatise on Algebra in 1572, and it is here that we see the first true consideration of our imaginary numbers. He used them “as a necessary vehicle that would transport the mathematician from the real cubic equations to its real solutions,” legitimizing the use of these impossible numbers. But these numbers still didn’t have a name (or very much acceptance within mainstream mathematics), and that is where we meet René Descartes in his 1637 publication La Géométrie, for the naming of the imaginary numbers.

“Neither the true nor false roots are always real; sometimes they are imaginary; that is, while we can always conceive of as many roots for each equation as I have already assigned, there is not always a definite quantity corresponding to each root so conceived of,” Descartes says, and not with admiration. Imaginary numbers were named as a response to how ridiculous mathematicians thought they were, how difficult it was for them to accept that these numbers could be useful in ‘real’ mathematics. That was the insult that Descartes could give to these numbers, to call them imaginary, and this is an insult that has carried through to the high school classroom. Questions like “when will I ever use this in real life?” are perhaps never louder than when the topic of imaginary numbers is upon an algebra class. Are imaginary numbers actually imaginary though, or did Descartes’ petty name for them simply stick?

This begs the question of what it means for mathematics to be realmathematics. G.H. Hardy, in A Mathematician’s Apology, wrote of the differences between physical reality and mathematical reality, and how much more ‘realistic’ mathematical reality is. He says, “a chair or a star is not in the least like what it seems to be; the more we think of it the fuzzier its outlines become in the haze of sensation that surrounds it; but ‘2’ or ‘317’ has nothing to do with sensation, and its properties stand out the more clearly, the more closely, we scrutinize it,” and he finishes by saying that “mathematical reality is built [this] way.” So, in a sense, imaginary numbers are imaginary, we made them up as part of mathematical reality, but imaginary numbers are also real, the way all of mathematics is real, because we have built a mathematical reality, and mathematical reality would start to fall apart without them. Imaginary numbers are essential and inevitable when we solve equations, and in modern engineering and physics, imaginary numbers have proven to be useful tools when considering signal processing (think: radar, brain waves, cellular technology), so with that we cannot deny their ‘realness,’ their ‘validity,’ to use a more agreeable adjective.

Perhaps Descartes’ naming of the imaginary numbers left a lot to be desired, but as a famous seventeenth century bard once said, “what’s in a name? that which we call a rose / by any other name would smell as sweet.” Then, that which we call an imaginary number, by any other name would still solve a quadratic.

[lamortexiii]

Cryptic Mystic: In the End

To bounce off of the previous blog posting, I thought it would be fun to just hop right on into the topic of what happens after we die. After all, we just finished talking about souls and a bit of astral projection last time. From transcending to another place/dimension to reincarnation, there truly is a lot to cover when you start diving into the many beliefs and ideas that surround death and mortality/immortality. But what differentiates the scientific facts from myths and stories of olden days? For those who believe in one defined means to an end for us all, how do you know for a fact that what you believe is true? Have you ever questioned what is life after death? Hell, is there a life after death? Or maybe… it’s something else… something so obscure that our tiny human brains are nowhere near possessing the capabilities to understand it. In the end, readers can decide for themselves what is more likely to be true, or maybe… the answer to this cryptic question has been right in front of us all along? Maybe it is a combination of what we know but do not yet understand. Let’s talk shop, shall we?

Death. Happy for some, a time of joy and celebration for others, but likely a time of sadness and grief for most. Some welcome death with open arms, while yet others fear their mortality. The numerous speculations on what happens after we die is overwhelming. There are far too many ideas and beliefs that people hold in this regard. I’ll briefly cover a few of the more popular beliefs as to not make this blog super lengthy - because, ya know, your attention span and whatnot. 

Scientifically, there are two types of death: clinical death and brain death. Clinical death is characterized by major organ failure (e.g. heart, liver, kidneys, etc.) until the body is completely rendered of functioning and the individual is officially pronounced dead. In brain death, solely the brain stops functioning, but the other organs within the body continue to work within their normal capacities. Creepy fun fact for you: the heart can beat for up to 30 minutes on its own after all brain cells have died. Once the heart stops it’s adios amigo. The remaining major organs that were barely hanging on have now lost blood flow, and life has ended. More creepy death fun facts: the gastrointestinal tract can live on its own for up to 3 days, and the complete decomposition of a body takes roughly 30 years! Crazy science stuff. 

Now let’s take a look at some common beliefs and speculations of what happens when/after we die. Again, I want to remind you, readers, that in my eyes there is no right or wrong answer here. I am a firm believer in everyone having their own beliefs and respect all of them regardless of how obscure some naysayers may think that they are. I enjoy hearing stories from followers that help to further broaden my thought processes. If you ever have an interesting story or want to chime in with your thoughts please feel free to leave a comment here or shoot on over to Instagram and we can rap about it. 

The belief that we transcend to another realm/dimension has been around for thousands of years and has been studied for decades. There is a lot to uncover here between recent scientific discoveries and human belief. Many people believe that many other dimensions exist, however, scientific exploration hasn’t fully found the golden answer to if and what these other dimensions may contain if they do indeed exist. We know that Earth has at least three dimensions: space—length, width, and depth—and one dimension of time. Modern physics posits that there is at least a fourth dimension of space, but that we can’t experience it. Maybe we can? Maybe we do but just haven’t put a label on it? Maybe the odd phenomena that happen across the world that people describe as being ghosts, aliens, and other paranormal activities are actually from the next dimension or another. There has been speculation that extraterrestrials come from another dimension through a portal that is already here on Earth rather than from the sky (outer space). 

Give me an R! Give me an E! Hell, this word is too long and I’m not going to put you through reading a silly cheer for 5 minutes. Reincarnation - yet another commonly held belief of what happens when we die. For those of you who may have never heard of reincarnation, here is the quick and dirty version of the definition. Reincarnation posits that when we die our spirit/soul/whatever you want to call it, moves on to a new host. This host could be a human baby that is born the very second that you die OR you could possibly find yourself reincarnated as an animal, tree, flower, or any other living thing that you can find on Earth. Interesting concept indeed.

My favorite belief, that we go to Heaven or somewhere similar, is one that is believed by millions of people across the world. Wouldn’t it be nice to die and go to another world/place where nothing can do you harm, and just live out the rest of your existence in peace? Well, if you can believe it then it may just happen that way - or maybe not. I am fairly certain I have mentioned this in previous blogs, but religion can be thought of as a coping mechanism for that which we do not know or understand; the human way of putting a label on something to make ourselves feel better or like we are a part of something divine and much greater than us. Which, in all actuality, we very well may be a part of something divine and much greater than us, however, it is my personal opinion that we honestly have no fucking clue about the extent to which that is. 

Now, this next one I threw in here because I personally found it to be interesting. In 2017 I was having a conversation with a friend about mystical things such as portals, extraterrestrials, etc. My friend informed me of a research video on YouTube about a company called CERN. He described this Swiss company as having built a circular-shaped machine that when you throw something into its core it disappears. However, other items have come through this machine and into the room from… wherever the other side is? Basically, these people have created a portal and no one knows about it. You’re welcome for the information. Within this research video, the guy who was describing all of this stuff went on to talk about how China had gifted the statue that sits in front of the CERN building. This particular statue is reported to represent the end of time and hell on Earth. There is a whole mythical background story about this statue - you need to check it out. The irony between the statue and this machine they made is uncanny. It made my jaw drop. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I haven’t been able to find the YouTube video again, so I am not sure if it got taken down because the guy exposed something that was supposed to be secret, or maybe I just suck at YouTube searches. Either way, I encourage you to do some digging on this one, because this type of information could potentially support the whole soul/spirit transcending into another realm/dimension belief. I am not a physicist, so I could be explaining this all wrong. You’ll just have to check out their website for yourself and see what it’s all about. → home.cern

There is also the belief that when we die nothing happens. We are dead and it is the end of who we once were. This belief is often held by Atheists and some Satanists if we’re using labels. However, many people believe this who aren’t subscribed to a religion or don’t want to necessarily put a label on who they are/what they believe. This is the grim reality of our existence. Maybe it all means… nothing… Now isn’t that depressing. 

Then there are near-death experiences, which brings a whole different perspective into the mix. People all over the world have encountered near-death experiences. Many report shockingly similar experiences and stories. Some say they see a white light and follow it to a place of peace. I have heard people say that while they were legally deceased they found themself in a field of flowers or floating within the cosmos. A common theme found within these individuals is that once they have had their near-death experience, they aren’t afraid of death anymore - they welcome it with open arms. One woman on a documentary that I watched even went as far as to say that she didn’t want to come back from where she was and was disappointed when she was revived. These experiences could possibly support the theory of transcending to other dimensions or that there is a “heaven.” I can’t explain it, but I still find the information interesting to ponder upon. 

Our mortality is evident, but what really happens when we die? These are just a short collection of ideas and beliefs that have been around for ages, however, there are many more to consider I’m sure. What do you think? Or should I say: what do you want to believe? Ultimately it’s your choice. Whatever brings you peace, serves you well, and is the right answer for you is what I advise you to turn to. This flesh and blood will decay for each of us one day - it’s inevitable. It is for this very reason why I say live life to the fullest. Regret nothing. Do what best serves you. Do what makes you happy. Take chances. Above all else - be the best version of yourself that makes you happy.

Cryptic Mystic Blog by PsychVVitch

www.LaMorteXiii.com