#the text is way bigger than i meant it to be but eh too late now. it looks fine

[codgod]

okay can’t do an animation in time for movie night but i DID try making a poster since i remembered charlie saying he likes 9

[junniepop]

JJK men and a male reader

So I died and came back. Now my inbox is filled with a lot of Jujutsu Kaisen stuff with a male reader, so I looked around and noticed there aren't a lot of male writers or even gender neutral ones, meaning that's what I'll be doing for awhile. This first request is...

before I get started, if you'd like to request something, then please see my masterlist

JJK boys with a male s/o

Warnings: aged up and language oh and some nsfw stuff cuz that's what they wanted.

Characters: I. Yuuji, F. Megumi, G. Satoru, N. Kento, R. Sukuna, T. Aoi

I. Yuuji

Isn't hung up by you being male, I feel as Yuuji got older, the more open minded he became. His sexuality was something that evolved as he aged and had a big change in his mid teenage years when he was exploring himself. Into his late teens he began seeing people of all types of representation, he simply did not care how they presented themselves.

That leads us to you, our gorgeous male that has Yuuji simping. All seriousness, this man loves entirely, some might even find it to be smothering. He is the type to text you paragraphs of good morning and goodnight texts, always leaving something for you to eat in the fridge, brings something home because it reminded him of you, and always always makes time to call you before a mission.

Yuuji always has random thoughts about you. Like, "Should I make his favorite tonight?" "I wonder what he's doing." "Oh....that would look so cute on him, should I get it?" "AH this charm has our initials on it! that means it was meant to be!"

If you're a sorcerer, Yuuji d e m a n d s to be your partner on missions and he will have a fit if someone says no. Is constantly stressing himself out over your well being, even if he knows you can handle yourself. always asking about your technique and is amazed every time he sees it. Very protective, stands in front of you a lot and when he see's you struggling he doesn't hesitate to get the curse's attention regardless of his own situation.

Also just because I feel like he would: Yuuji gave you a promise ring when he realized you were the one he wanted to be with for the rest of his life.

He has this need to prove to you that he is a fit partner, Like showing you he can cook, has his own place, very responsible with his money and what not.

The type of guy to send you a million snaps a day. He will literally show you everything he did that day and wants the same in return.

Every date with him somehow includes a physical activity. Going out to dinner? chances are Yuuji will see an arcade and more specifically the DDR in the background.

NSFW

In terms of sexual stuff, Yuuji seems like a top, but has definitely thought about bottoming and upon trying it- was not into it. Does not matter if you're much bigger than him or not, he will top you. However, Yuuji is rather submissive when it comes to his partner, he will say yes to whatever it is you want. You want him to be soft and gentle, he'll do it. You want him to absolutely wreck your ability to walk, he'll do it.

The first time Yuuji tried stuff with a guy, he for sure looked up if it would hurt and read that anal could be very painful, was TERRIFIED that he would hurt the guy. Definitely was asking with every movement if he was okay. With you he's more confident, but still askes if you're okay throughout the event.

Man is simple, likes very intimate positions where he can see your face. Heavily into pleasing you, he tries any kinks you're into even if he's not that into it. Loves being praised, it just does something to his brain, in that same line- any sounds you make go straight to his dick. Really enjoys marking, is proud to cover you in them too.

The type of guy to enjoy eating you out, like fully sit on his face. Plus it helps his dick slide in smoother.

Yuuji will lose his mind if you say you want to milk him. Yuuji usually never thinks about his own pleasure, so when you want to pleasure him until he's empty, mans is not readyyyy. Just stutters out an okay and proceeds to go stupid when you start.

Conclusion

Yuuji loves you entirely. Trusts you 100% and would do anything to keep your life stable and happy. Yuuji just wants to grow old with you tbh, so in love with the idea.

If you were to break up with him, he would be devastated, unable to continue on for a long time. I mean he placed his everything into you, why would you do this to him?

all in all, it is a very stable relationship as long as you don't take him for granted because he is prone to letting people use him.

F. Megumi

Definitely did not care you were male. Megumi cares about a person's mentality, their goals and dreams, the way a person carries themselves. When Megumi met you, he found you quite attractive, your drive is what lured him in and from there his feelings developed.

Megumi is subtle in showing his affection. Little touches here, sticky notes meant just for you, always carrying 'extra' snacks. It actually might take you awhile to notice his affections for you, simply because it is so subtle. Megumi seems like the person to wait until you confess. However. Megumi would confess if he gets pushed to or knows he won't get rejected.

Once he confesses, his love is soft and soothing with a hint of awkwardness. Megumi in the beginning would be showing affection through words and small acts of service, always telling you how much he appreciates you and doing things for you. Some of these things would be things like picking up snacks for you, doing your laundry, leaving you some of his clothes. He likes to do these things without you knowing because I think it lessens the embarrassment he feels doing it.

Even if you are in a long term relationship with him, he always gets flustered by you. Megumi is naturally reserved, so telling him I love you with sincerity will cause him to malfunction. Poor boy freezes and stutters around his words while avoiding eye contact.

Now, physical contact in this relationship is a tell tale sign of how much Megumi trusts you and loves you. Megumi is the type of person to reserve physical touch for someone he completely trusts, so with you, this will let you know his true feelings.

Touch would start with closeness at first, just grazing hands or bumping knees, but would develop into hours of intimate cuddling because he's touched starved. KISSING, oh my lord- his kisses tell you everything he feels. so intense, no matter how soft he kisses you.

if you're a sorcerer, Megumi is the type to go on missions with you, but doesn't complain if he can't go with you. However, worries a lot and contemplates going after you. Unlike Yuuji, who would go to literal war, Megumi trusts your strength a lot. The only time he is like yuuji is against a particularly strong curse. Loves fighting together though, it shows how much you trust him.

NSFW

Megumi gives me verse energy. Like he was a top for a long time, asked you if he could bottom once and was surprisingly into it. So now when the mood arises, its whatever you guys are in the mood for. You guys often take turns.

His first time was with you- Megumi just seems like a late bloomer and you were the only person he did stuff with. He's very gentle because he knows it can be painful, I think sexually his fear is not being good enough for you, so give him as much reassurance as you can.

Now this boy is rather kinky despite his personality. Loves when you beg, drives him mad to hear your pleas and whimpers. Likes the pain of you needing something to hold onto when he tops which results in scratches down his back and the pulling of his hair. Doesn't think condoms are necessary because you're the only person for him in his eyes- aka likes breeding. When he bottoms, he enjoys riding and wants to see your face as he does. Do not get it twisted though, he's very much into you messing him up and railing him.

SEND THIS BOY NUDES. DO IT. Mans will sprint home if he has to. Don't do it too often or he'll get used to it. Maybe like once every two-ish weeks. Or better yet do it while he's on a mission. Megumi always tries to answer you, so expecting something serious, he short circuits when its just a pic of you in some underwear he thought he ripped the last time you guys were intimate.

Conclusion

Shy boy into some kinky things with his partner. It might take him some time to develop a deep relationship with you because he's scared you'll leave, but as long as you provide him the security he needs, he'll stay by your side indefinitely.

If you were to break up with him, you're just like his dad in his eyes and the betrayal would result in him locking many people out. Unlike Yuuji, who's emotions pour out of him, many wouldn't know Megumi is barely scrapping by.

G. Satoru

Gojo doesn't give a rats ass how you present yourself, he lives by the motto "a hole's a hole." What truly would make Gojo invest in more than casual hooking up is your personality. Gojo needs someone who doesn't need him and doesn't care about who he is in the sorcerer world. Someone like that would capture his eye rather quick and this man is like "Eh? I'm GOJO SATORU, you know top dog?" and you would just blink and go back to whatever it was you were doing.

Shows off so much trying to impress you. "ne ne (Y/n) did you see me squash that special grade into dust?" *sigh* "Yes Gojo, I also saw you split one into a thousand pieces and turn another into a ball." so unamused by his abilities.

The one time he saw amazement cross your features is when he was playing the piano (I feel Gojo's other talents were never looked at and everyone saw him as this god like being, all he wants is someone to look at other things he can do.) and his heart skipped a beat. Because his first goal was just get into your pants, he was quite surprised you were more interested in his normal talents. This is where he begins showing you his real side, still a teasing man child, but he begins asking you about your interests and seeing what you have in common.

The more he learns, the harder it is for him to find a way not to commit to you. You see Gojo subconsciously looks for a reason to leave, he hates being tied down and is super flighty. Then there's you, ticking all his boxes without even knowing it. There's only been one person to do that.

So he takes a leap and goes for it. He's still scared that he'll get burned like last time, but he's willing to try.

One of the requirements to being with Gojo is you need to be strong in your own right. Gojo is an extremely powerful man with many enemies, so his partner must be able to handle themselves. Being a sorcerer, Gojo would B E G you to go with him on literally every single mission and would throw the biggest tantrum until you say yes. Sometimes when he's being particularly childish, he'll stop fighting the curses to watch you do it. "You can do it (Y/n)-chan, if you win I'll give you kisses." Takes everything in your power not to launch your technique right at him as he sits there with his shit-eating grin.

This man in the beginning of your relationship is immediately extremely handsy. Just all up on you all the time, but little do you know is, this is really a protective measure for when you're out of the house. At home, he's still handsy, but you can just feel how different it is. He'll come and fall asleep on you, stand behind you when you're doing your skincare routine, always following you around the house.

Overtime, you'll become his place to rest when he needs to recharge. You're the only time Gojo gets a break from being at the top. It makes you wonder if he ever truly gets to be normal.

Overall, Gojo's love is deceptively delicate because his personality is quite childish, he uses it as a mask to hide how he's really feeling. So you might think everything is going swimmingly until he ups and leaves you. Once he starts showing you that real side of him, that's when you have him wrapped around your finger.

NSFW

This man is incredibly horny. His stamina is very high and he's very kinky. Gojo is a dominant verse whore. It doesn't matter if he's taking or giving, he's always in control. Honey you were not first and you might not be the last, this man is very confident in pleasuring you.

Gojo like I said, is incredibly kinky. He enjoys degrading you, overstimulating you until you beg him to stop, he wants to break you and make you only crave him. Seriously, you might want to think about a safe word because this man won't stop until you're not even speaking coherent sentences. In saying that there are somethings that you can try (key word 'try') to do to make him lose his mind. One of those things is a blowjob, his dick is incredibly sensitive in certain areas, so he'll become a mind-numbed mess if you're good enough. Another is softly begging in his ear and saying how he's the only one who makes you feel this way aka call him your god in bed and he'll bust right then and there.

Phone sex. Legit will call you if you guys haven't been together for a few days and all you hear are his whines and groans. "Guess what I'm doing cutie~"

THIS MAN- you're never safe to answer your phone because one time you opened the snap and it was him lazily jacking his dick. You have a small heart attack every time the notif is a snap from Gojo, just praying you can open it in public and 9/10 you can't.

The type of guy to get handsy in public places. Just in your ear like "Baby pleeeeasssseeeee can we fuck in public, I promise you'll still be able to walk when I'm done."

Conclusion

Gojo is a rollercoaster of a relationship that needs it's rider to be okay with a lot of distance for awhile and sudden disappearances. Without the right criteria, the relationship is doomed to fail.

If you were to break up with him, he would immediately sleep with as many people as he can to numb himself from the pain of having a hole ripped right through him. He'd go back to that childish personality, but you can feel the edge in his words despite his tone.

N. Kento

Nanami gives me 'gave up on the sex of my partner ages ago' energy. Like he has tried relationships with a lot of people and realized all people suck. So you being a man means nothing to him, you just have to prove to him you're not shitty like everyone else.

The type of guy that takes you out on proper dates in the beginning. It's usually dinner because of his job, but sometimes he'll ask you to lunch. Nanami will bring you small gifts like flowers or Knick knacks he thought you'd like.

Nanami likes someone a little younger than himself, probably around 23-24, they still have that idealistic thought process but with realistic foundations. He likes someone who can be serious, but still enjoys things like joyrides or going out bowling.

Nanami is a very uptight guy, so you're going to have to work to get him to relax. When you do, this is when he starts to see you as long time partner rather than someone who is just for fun. Literally goes from stick up his ass, to a big softie that just wants to curl up in bed with you. He'll start smiling more and doing intimate things like bathing together.

Nanami would probably rather have someone outside the sorcerer world so he doesn't have to think about work when he sees you. He wouldn't complain if you were though, gives him a lot less to worry about since he knows you can handle yourself. Doesn't even stress when you go on missions by yourself, he respects your strength.

NSFW

Now Nanami is moderately kinky. He's definitely a top and will not change. He's into ddlb (dom daddy and little boy for my innocents out there.) Very much into control and making you take it, he's not one for brats and will tame that shit right out of you. Doesn't need a safe word, he's very good at gauging your reactions. Really really into deep throating and you better learn how to breathe or you'll be struggling. Likes breeding, so he would be glad you can't have children.

Conclusion

Nanami’s love is traditional and straight forward. He likes routine to a certain degree and that degree ends at stable relationship, everything else is not that fun without a level of risk to him, but he likes that when he comes home, you'll be right there.

if you were to break up with him, Nanami would sigh and say he told himself so. He's hurt, but it'll solidify that people are still and always will be shitty.

R. Sukuna

Sukuna does not do love. period. The only way I could see him giving notice to someone is if they are powerful, someone who can bring him amusement. Sukuna only does thing for his own entertainment end of discussion.

I’m going to be using post-Yuuji Sukuna, so he’s restricted by Yuuji himself and can’t outright cause chaos at all times. This way Sukuna has to spend more time with people than he’d like to, normally he would just kill something once he’s bored, but now he has to deal with them.

Noticed your technique through Yuuji and was amused, much like Megumi, he thought your curse technique had a lot of potential to be devastating. As Yuuji spent more time with you, Sukuna began noticed more things about you, like that you cooked better than Yuuji, were extremely versatile in battle with your technique and so on.

The type to notice your attraction to him and act on it. He can’t really do much since he’s in Yuuji’s body, so he’s going to work with what he’s got. Didn’t care if you’re male or female, he just likes a strong partner so he can go harder during sex.

Your relationship would start with being his toy, something to bring him pleasure that is all. With Sukuna, you must both respect him and not fear him. He’s very big on respect and trust, but hates when someone he views as ‘important’ fears him because they’ll betray him the second they can. Everyone else can fear him, he doesn’t care.

Sukuna is also highly unpredictable and unstable, be prepared for death at a moments notice tbh. He’ll kill you if he feels like it. In a deeper relationship, Sukuna is a hard pressed tsundere, saying things quite harshly. Saying things like, “Here brat, I don’t need you breaking just yet.” “Dumbass, that curse was stronger than you.” “I took care of them because you’re weak.”

Trust between Sukuna and you is a game of high stakes chess, one wrong move and you’re nothing but trash to him. However, succeed in earning his trust and you’ll be rewarded with a loyal man. Though Sukuna hates showing vulnerability, so he’ll treat you the same in public places that he would treat anyone else. Alone, he’s alright with whatever as long as it doesn’t annoy him.

Surprisingly protective. He’ll kill curses he deems are a problem to you or rip a person limb from limb if he found a hair missing from your head. Doesn’t understand why you don’t let him handle it, he’s way stronger than you.

Is almost never soft with you unless he’s extremely tired or just waking up. Holding you as close as he can and telling you not to go. Don’t bring it up either, he’ll end you if you tell anyone.

Will never tell you, but likes touching you, you’re very soft compared to him. He’s the type of guy to have callous from years of fight and doesn’t really care about his skin to much because he’s a God in his eyes.

Would rather surrender himself to a church than admit he gets slightly giddy when you remember small details about him. Like this man has a lot of history, so when you know a tiny random detail about him, his non-existent heart shutters a little.

Nsfw

This man is extremely kinky during sex. I pray for your well being because honestly I don’t know if you’re going to live through sex with him. A dom top period, that last person to even insinuate they could top him was added to his innate domain permanently.

He’s into completely dominating you and make sure you know he owns you. B I G into impact play, slapping you a lot until you’re a beautiful red. Degrading and humiliating you, honestly would let people watch so they know that you’re his property.

Actually really likes his partner to be a brat, man loves breaking you and turning you into a submissive bunny just for him. Honestly he just likes pushing people beyond their limits, like really into emotional play, he wants to see your expressions when he does something. Ooo objectification, will use you like a foot stool and sit on you. Man in general will work you hard.

In saying all that, immaculate aftercare because he knows your mind is too far gone to remember him being this caring and soft for you. Literally bathes you and gets you into bed curled up on him. Also makes sure your body didn’t sustain a lot of damage during sex.

Do. Not. Taunt. Sukuna. It will not end well. “Huuuh? You think you can handle more little boy?” Eyes narrowed and smile too tight. You’ve awoken the beast and he’s not going to leave anything unbroken.

Conclusion

Sukuna’s love is... well a bike ride through hell? To be honest you’ll never know if he loves you. Everything about him is highly unpredictable and dangerous, you could end up as worm food in seconds.

Breaking up with Sukuna... you’re joking right? You don’t have the balls to tell a man who could split you into a million pieces with a flick of the wrist, you’re breaking up with him , right?

Seriously he’ll kill you, no hesitation. It’s either realize you’re stuck with him or die. I think most people would assume he never cared at first, but he did care and now you want to leave him? Absolutely not. He set everything down for you and he’ll be damned if he lets you live without him.

T. Aoi

(First and foremost- why is it so hard to find Toudou headers.)

Okay, I’m sorry but Toudou to me is a straight guy, so I can’t really see him with a male. But, if it were to happen, I think it would go like this:

Being childhood friends with Toudou, you were used to his eccentric personality and sometimes extreme antics.

This man is EXTREMELY comfortable with you. You guys grew up together, so some of the things you guys do together would definitely be seen as way too much for friends. I’m talking sharing the same bed, bathing together, using each other’s things without permission. To you guys, you’ve been doing this since you were little, so neither of you think twice.

I think there would be a trigger that would make Toudou realize he’s more into you than being friends. Like maybe someone flirting with you, he’d at first think he’s being replaced as a friend, but it’s much deeper than that. Definitely debates in his head about what he’s feeling toward you. After going back and forth with his type of girl in his head, he’ll come to terms with it.

This is when he’ll start noticing things he’s never payed that much attention to before. Things like how small you’re compared to him, the way clothes fitted to your body, how pretty you actually were and most important difference- how he’s never noticed you have the fattest ass he’s ever seen.

Seriously this man’s sexuality went from women to women + you.

Toudou isn’t the type to wait either, as soon as he knows how he feels, he confesses. He’s the type of guy to say “take it or leave it, that is how I feel.”

You kinda just stand there. Like, huh? Toudou are you feeling okay? Have- have you been cursed? There’s no way, Toudou middle name pussy pounder Aoi just said he was into you romantically... right?

After the shock, you reciprocated his feelings and began dating.

Now, this man- S U P E R affectionate and devoted. Always wanting to hold hands or link arms. He loves cuddling and playing with your hair while you sleep on him. Puddy in your hands if you give him a massage.

Toudou is immensely dedicated. He knows your favorite foods down to the amount of salt you use on your fries, knows what sizes you prefer for hoodies, shirts, button ups and so on, and this man knows your favorite movies by heart.

He’s the type to buy you something simply because you said it was starting to give you problems.

Lovvvvessss dates. I mean he’s a hopeless romantic, he wants to take you on really cheesy dates that you’d see honeymoon couples go on.

The type to want to match clothing or jewelry.

If you’re a sorcerer, he’s wanting to train everyday, he likes seeing you in action. Double points if you can match him in strength too. He respects your strength enough to not worry about you, he’s confident in his S/o’s abilities.

NSFW

Top. Enough said. Ok but seriously, he wants to clap you cheeks so bad.

Toudou has the biggest size kink too, I’m talking like he’s the type to point right at your navel and say “I’m right here baby~ can you feel me filling you?”

His definitely into railing. His favorite position is the mating press, allows him to hit deeply and as hard as he wants.

Lovesss when you whine and beg. He wants to see how much you can take before your begging him to let you cum.

The type of guy to leave your ass a nice reddish purple color. Just two big ass hand prints on you ass and hips.

✨i m m a c u l a t e✨ aftercare. It’s almost like he’s worshipping you when he’s cleaning you up and making sure you’re taken care of.

Conclusion

Being with Toudou is like being with an Aries, he’s high energy and can get easily bored. He enjoys someone who excites him both mentally and physically. Loves a challenge. Toudou’s love is like a concentrated ball of sunlight, it’s hot and bright. He’s overly devoted to you and tells you how much you mean to him all the time.

If you break up with him, he’s the type to hold his head high until he’s alone and then he breaks down, crying into his hands. Thinking, “Was I too much?” “Maybe I wasn’t enough?” He’s confident, but he’s still a person with insecurities.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Part 3

This part is a little more plot heavy, but I added in some nice Whumpy bits too! I hope you guys enjoy, and thanks everyone for their suggestions!

Also, the next part of this may be a bit late, as I’m planning for my next piece to be the continuation of Villainsicle!

CW//Mentions of law enforcement, mentions of therapy/treatments, restraints, medical abuse, begging, screaming, forced sedation, needles, blood

Open the door.

It would be so simple. The entrance was constructed of little more than wood and a flimsy lock. Even someone without the benefit of powers could break it. And, based on what Hero had seen so far of this place, it may not have even been locked.

Just open it.

Open the door, and they could sleep again.

Open the stupid door.

But...

Hero’s hands clenched into fists, their gaze moving upwards, fixing upon the metal plaque upon the door.

‘43′

Beyond the simple plank of wood, their nemesis was laying. Suffering. Trapped in their own mind.

They could open the door, just twist the knob, and save them. In any other time, any other instance, it was what they would have done. They knew the way the others spoke of them, joked about them. Saying they’d jump off a bridge, even if their friends hadn’t done it first. They couldn’t control their impulses. That was what Leader always wrote, in the reports. Impulsive. Reckless.

That’s what they were. Reckless.

But that was back when it didn’t matter. That was back when the only one in danger was them. Hero. Now that Villain was part of the equation?

They had to think. They had to be smart.

Hero bit their tongue with enough force that the taste of bloody iron washed over their taste buds.

They didn’t open the door.

Around the corner, a doctor in blue scrubs furrowed their brow, and dipped away to make a phone call.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

“If I’m being completely honest, Hero, I wasn’t expecting you to contact me again.”

Hacker spoke with their head down, sheepish, as though a child apologizing for breaking a toy.

Again, the two sat in the same diner: It was busy, but crowded enough that they could simply blend into the lunch rush without fuss. To avoid questions, the both of them had ordered an appetizer, though neither of them had much of an appetite to speak of.

“You weren’t? Why’s that?”

“I mean...” They leaned back in their seat, pressing their spine against the padded booth seat back. “I didn’t think you’d care? That sounds kind of rude now that I’m saying it out loud but... The stuff I was showing you, I assumed you were already aware of it.”

“You thought I knew the way Villain was being treated?”

“Kind of? That’s the kind of stuff they tell you, right?”

“Eh...” Hero dropped their gaze. “Not really. That’s not our business. We catch the crook, what happens to them after isn’t really our focus.”

Hacker frowned.

“It’s not?”

“No.”

“So you didn’t know?”

“Not at all. I knew they were at that facility but... I thought it was fine. I thought Villain was fine.”

“Maybe I should have told you sooner, then.”

“You knew?”

“Well.” There came the embarrassment once more, their cheeks flushing. “For the scale of your organization, your cybersecurity is a little... lacking. Everything from that rehab facility, it’s stored on an off-site backup. Their on-site security is decent, but once it goes through that external data channel, it’s caught right in my net.”

“Is that right?”

“Don’t tell anyone, please?”

“Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it. I have much bigger problems than low level hackers.”

“Hey!”

“That’s not to say you’re a low-level hacker.”

“That’s better. Then, if you’re not here to like, arrest me-”

“That’s what you thought I was doing?”

“Kinda. If that’s not what you want, what do you want?”

“I want to know more.”

Hero had made the decision upon planning this meeting that they were not to tell Hacker about their visit to the facility. Despite the aid they had already offered, it was hard to trust someone who admitted to criminality with such nonchalance. And, besides, Hero was almost certain that their superiors wouldn’t be happy to know about their distraction.

“More?”

“You’ve been watching them for a while, right? I want to know more. Everything about Villain, everything about the whole place. How much do you know?”

“A lot. I have a considerable amount of files, though I have no way of knowing how many more there are that I don’t have. How many they keep on-site.”

“But you have information?”

“I have a lot of junk. Taxes, insurance, quarterly reports, formalities. Prescriptions for mundane crap like, I don’t know, allergies. But, I think I have a few diamonds in the rough. You’re going to have to be more specific than that, though. I do need something to work off of.”

Hero nodded, biting their lip. They hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead.

They were getting Villain out of that so-called rehab facility. They knew that much. But they needed to be smart about it. They needed information. They needed to know how they could get their friend- foe out of that place quickly, safely, and with as little noise as possible.

“The facility.” They began. “How does it work? It’s a relatively small facility housing a relatively large number of dangerous criminals. How do they... help them? They’re not all treated like Villain, right?”

“I don’t think there’s enough drugs on the continent to keep them all like Villain. Their methods of treatment are... unclear. The patient reports indicate what therapies each one is undergoing, but they don’t have names. Just numbers. Codes. Whatever they do in there, they keep it in house. My doctor friends have never heard of any of it, before.”

“Then how do they do it? Drugs?”

“If they have some kind of secret therapy, I don’t know about it. But they do have something else. They call it AMRS.”

“AMRS?”

“The Automatic Magnetic Restraint System. A fancy name for a crude practice. They’re vague about it, of course, but from what I can tell, each resident wears these four ring things. Bracelets, it calls them. One on each wrist, one on each ankle. A single push of a button, and they all link together. Any escape stopped in a second.”

“That seems...”

“Cruel? Yeah. But I guess it could be worse. As far as how the facility operates, though, that’s all I have. It’s not drugs, as far as I can tell. I have those dosage reports for everyone, and those that take medicine seem to do so for genuine medical conditions. Insulin, epilepsy medication, that kind of thing.”

“None of the others are sedated?”

“Not officially.”

“But Villain...”

“I think if they were any more heavily sedated, they’d go right from a temporary sleep to a permanent one.”

“You mean-”

“They’d die, yes. It’s called a euphemism, dumbass.”

“I know that. So, what about Villain, do you have anything else on them?”

“They’ve been kept heavily sedated since they arrived. Regular patient records, they just... don’t have them. No behavior reports, no treatment reports, nothing.”

“I guess they’re not really treating them.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ve really been kept like this, ever since I- Ever since they arrived?”

“As far as I can tell, yes.”

“Then it wasn’t reactionary.”

“What do you mean?”

“They didn’t try to like, blow up the facility, or kill up all the staff, or anything?! They were just knocked out. Locked up. They weren’t even given a chance to be good?”

Hacker lowered their gaze, nodding.

“Why?”

“Are you sure you want-”

“You know why?”

“I’m not certain, but-”

“Show me.”

Hacker startled a bit, but nodded once more, starting up their beast of a laptop and typing for a considerable amount of time. Hero could not help but hold their breath, and when the computer was at last turned to face them, they felt about to pass out.

“Wait.” Hacker spun the computer back. “You need to promise me something, first.”

“What?” Hero hated how desperate they sounded.

“Whatever you do, after you see this... please, just think it through.”

“Okay.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

The screen was returned to Hero.

They halfway expected another video feed. A video of Villain, destroying and killing and doing something, anything to deserve their current treatment.

Instead, they were faced with an email. Or, at least, a screenshot of one. Passed through enough computers that the jpeg artifacts had begun to show.

An email from Director to Head Doctor.

The text was simple. Curt. A simple request to destroy a life.

“I am certain that you are aware of the new patient you will be intaking tomorrow. I request that you do not classify them among the other patients. Normal intake procedures will be unnecessary. You need only keep them contained. Alive if you can, dead if you must.

Villain must never see the light of day again. I trust that you will be able to accomplish this.

Thank you-- Do not forget that we will be meeting for lunch next Wednesday.”

Not even a hundred words. That was all it took, to turn a spirited fighter to a vegetable.

“Thank you, Hacker. I think... I think I need to go home.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hero’s parting from the restaurant was sudden enough to make several other patrons look up. Hacker could not help but feel embarrassment well up in their chest. They hated being out in public like this.

They figured, even with the cold food sitting before them, they should be going. Finger on their mouse, they closed the email on the screen, revealing-

Not their desktop.

They had forgotten. They had meant to show Hero and they had forgotten.

Now, the video sat there, waiting. A chipper white arrow informing them that it was ready to play at any time.

They shouldn’t have. Hell, they could have at least waited to go home. But...

Hacker plugged in a set of earbuds, setting the buds themselves in their ears.

They clicked play.

Even on the rather low-quality security camera footage, the crash was loud enough to make Hacker jump. Three lab-coated figures, a mess of limbs and white coats, leapt atop the hospital gown wearing person like a predator after prey.

Villain was not facing the camera, but it made no difference. Their voice made them more than distinctive enough.

“Get the fuck off of me! Get off get off get off!“ The scream was loud enough to break the microphone’s volume filter, turning into a single, mournful screech.

If the labcoats heard, they did not listen. They positioned themselves along their captive’s body-- one holding their legs, one the arms, and one forcing their face to the tile.

“Please!”

The fourth figure wore a different outfit, a pair of blue scrubs, though the camera quality made them appear almost grey. Represented by only a few pixels, the syringe in their hand was none the less distinctive.

“Hold them still, please.” The doctor muttered, kneeling down beside Villain, their hysterical screaming not missing a beat.

“No! No! Please, please don’t do this! I don’t want to go! Please!”

There were no comforting words. Only the satisfied nodding of the head doctor as their needle slipped deftly to a vein and administered its contents.

“What is that, what is that, no no no please!”

A nurse handed down another syringe, and another, and another. The timestamp in the video’s corner dragged on in agonizing slowness as new pinpricks of blood welled up over Villain’s skin.

It took only a few minutes for their screaming to stop. Then their thrashing. Then, they closed their eyes.

It would be a long, long time until they opened them again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Of course, home was not a place of rest. Not as much as Hero would have liked it to be. They were not a civilian-- they were not that lucky. They did not have the chance to return home to a soft bed and a loving family.

No. When they went home, they went to work.

It was only past noon when they returned home to the HQ. A time at which the towering building stood largely abandoned, its occupants leaving in droves to flood the nearby restaurants like a locust swarm.

Riding the elevator to the floor containing their quarters, Hero hoped beyond hope that their team, too, had gone out.

But, of course, they had no such luck.

They didn’t even make it to their quarters. No, as soon as the elevator doors opened, their heart sunk.

“I saw you walk in.” Leader’s arms were crossed over their chest, a single eyebrow raised. “Let’s go to my office.”

“I was just about to go back to my dorm-”

“Actually, you were just about to follow my orders and go to my office.”

Hero slumped their shoulders. They didn’t have the energy to fight this, especially since they knew it was a fight they couldn’t win.

Leader’s office was a place they had all visited, though never under good circumstances. It was far too immaculately kept for what it was used for, a solid oak desk standing in a room well decorated with house plants and bookshelves. Leader took their seat, and Hero reluctantly did the same, across from them.

“So,” Leader began--they were not one for formalities. “When exactly when you planning on telling me?”

“If you’re going to yell at me about something, you at least have to tell me what.”

“Teammate told me, yesterday. They found out why you’re getting so distracted.”

Hero dropped their gaze. They weren’t exactly surprised about this. They only hoped Teammate had kept their mouth shut about their plans.

“It’s really nothing.” Hero tried. “I’ll get over it.”

“This anniversary you’re getting so upset over was ten days ago. By the time you get over it, another year will have already passed. So, no. You’re not getting out of it that easily. I need to know what’s gotten you so worked up.”

Hero gripped the arm of their chair.

“I’m worried. That’s all. Worried about Villain. It’s been too long. They’ve been so silent for so long.”

Leader frowned.

“I can personally assure you that Villain is being well taken care of. The rehabbers have more experience than you could imagine.”

“That’s just it! Villain spent so long terrorizing the city, and they’re still here. But they’re so quiet.”

Leader sighed, sitting up straight in their chair.

“This isn’t just a minor distraction. You need to know that. It’s reflecting on your performance, and heavily. Enough that Director has noticed.”

“Director?”

“Yes. They asked me about the situation, and I informed them of your current problem. They stated that, if it really is such a concern to you, they can have Villain moved to another facility. Somewhere farther.”

“No!”

“What? They think it would help, really. Out of sight. Out of mind.”

“No. They need to be here.”

“And why would that be?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Leader can help. Tell the truth - Should Hero tell Leader about Director’s role in Villain’s condition?

B.) Leader can also ruin the whole operation. Lie - What should Hero do next?

[dreamiesdotcom]

butterfly effect│nct dream

Summary: You think of it as something caused by the butterfly effect — the great loves you had to leave, and the one that made you stay.

Pairing/s: 7dream x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Moon's note: since it's my birthday and I promised... it's not the best but I'd like to thank you guys for staying with me and wishing me a happy birthday! I hope you all have an awesome 2021!

You weren't really thinking straight when you met him — instead, your mind was a mess of one thought and sidelines; the little things. Butterfly effect. The knowledge that ten minutes from now the train will board — you'll miss your ride to school, you'll miss school — so you run faster, faster, and there it goes. The butterfly effect — knowing that what little thing you did could've changed someone's life entirely.

If you have made it ten minutes earlier, maybe you'd be sitting in the spot where a child buzzes with excitement, knowing that she'll see her father sometime soon, and in exchange, she will be in another place — maybe she won't meet the girl sitting across who offers her one of her candies. Maybe she won't be riding the train at all — maybe she would have to wait six months again before she can go see her dad.

You sulkily take the path to one of the exits, thinking about catching the bus or something. The skies are dark and you're aware of its plan, also aware that you left your umbrella. Frustrated and too annoyed to even think about school, you crash to the empty bench, bags left to drop to the floor. Tough luck. 

The boy chuckles, "Missed the train too?"

"Yeah," you grumble, not even bothering that he's a total stranger. "Was caught in a daydream and got lost on the way. You?"

"Eh, my idiot of a best friend made me wait," he shrugs. He brings his book down and offers you a handshake, "I'm Huang Renjun — I see we study at the same place. May I know your name?"

You don't speak after a minute or two, but you shake his hand, to which he laughs at. You think it was you being overwhelmed. Maybe your soul just knew how much impact he was meant to throw at your life.

Huang Renjun doesn't become a one-time encounter, but instead, he becomes someone you take train rides with; be it you're late or not, to school or to the library. He stays constant occurrence, so much that Huang Renjun turns into Renjun, then Renjunnie — until you're free to call each other names like 'dumbass' and 'stupid' and everything crumbles down; formalities, facades, walls. You don't feel it then, but if you were to look back, you think it's that one dark-skied Monday with you two terribly late and finding yourselves back in the same bench, when everything the world laid down for you has shifted.

Renjun pout his lips, bored. He tears his bag from himself and lets it stay under the shed, but he stretches his hands out to the sky where his eyes are set, watching water fall in tiny drizzles before a full-blown rain, "Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?"

"When we should be at school?" you huff, more amused than questioning but it comes out as a scolding. He only nods his head, and you furrow your brows, "Renjun, you're crazy."

He doesn't reply, only answers with a deadpan gaze that asks Are you going or not? and it makes you tighten your expression further. 

"Hold me."

The boy grins in triumph — he cheekily smiles, immediately pulling you under the rain and laughs like a tiny kid. It's contagious, you figure out, his laughter; if not for his hand on your waist and the other entwined with yours, you would've fallen over laughing with him. It was less of a dance and more of a cuddle, swaying to the sound of the rain and his sweet hums. Renjun whispers to you the melody of a love song, and you couldn't help but ponder.

"I always wanted to do this, you know?" you feel silly even confessing, "To dance under the rain with someone, look into each other's eyes, exist as if the world doesn't and maybe give them a kiss. I wonder how that'd feel."

Renjun's serenity read ideas — those that never failed to get you two in trouble. He tilts his head, "Kiss me, then."

You feel like the world stops, and your heartbeat slows, as if the raindrops are little speckles of star-like lights littering the surroundings. Your eyes widen at his suggestion, shock ripping through your body, a confused sound escaping your throat, "What?"

"I guess you don't always need to have feelings for the person you're kissing," Renjun purses his lips. Of all people, you laugh in your head, those words you expected to come out of this one's mouth the least. He huffs, "And I don't have feelings for you."

There's just enough hesitation — uncertainty, unpredictability, skepticism — in his eyes that you find he can't be trusted as much as he normally would be. Renjun drops a half-smile, eyes unreadable, "But I sure do know I want to kiss you. A lot. Right now." 

Renjun smiles in victory the second time that day.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You come across Donghyuck in the most inconvenient way possible; a few months after you started dating Renjun and there's a little too many mishaps with making schedules meet. He strides to your chair one sunny Friday, clothes too colorful for the shades of beige decorating the place. Donghyuck didn't know how to approach you; he just kind of winged it by showing you Renjun's texts that he asked him to pick you up because something came up and he can't make it anymore. You didn't really like that — the fact that he didn't even speak, the fact that Renjun stood you up. You thought Donghyuck was arrogant. The car ride home was silent.

He was far from that, you learn the one too many times the same scenario occurred. Renjun was too busy to even show up, more often in the library than in his own place. Donghyuck, being his best friend, never failed to be there for you, keep your relationship intact, make excuses for the other. He'll pick you up from where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend, grab food and spend the whole day playing video games that only he understands, and then half of the time he'll compliment you with little playful remarks. That day was supposed to be nothing so different from the others — it's just that it didn't take much longer for Donghyuck to fall.

How could he not? You smiled so lovingly and spoke so gently, always so understanding and patient and kind. How can he not, when he's already known what song makes your day the most? When he saw how ethereal you looked under the moonlight, as he danced with you by the shore? Sure, maybe most of these moments wouldn't have been if it wasn't for Renjun's absence, and truly most of the things he loves about you aren't for him; he fell in love anyway. Still, that day was supposed to be nothing so different from any others — you're stuck in the odd place quite between grateful and guilty.

"Something came up, he won't be here." The boy says firmly through gritted teeth, hands-on your wrist trying to make you get up, "Please. He doesn't have his phone. He's not coming anymore, let's go home."

"Let me wait for him, please," you say, eyes teary, "Please, Donghyuck."

"No." He simply mutters, and whether it was the sinking feeling of defeat or the determination in his voice, it doesn't matter. You let yourself get tugged away from that place, feeling weak and oddly empty. The car ride home was silent. 

"Thanks a lot, you know?" You shyly say later, once Donghyuck's lost enough in video games and he's run out of knock-knock jokes and witty statements. He couldn't stand the sight of you with your head hung low and eyes teary, "You're always there for me when Renjun is not and... just thank you."

"You're welcome," he sincerely replies. You try to look for it, the lilt in his voice or the smirk stretching his lips, but all you see is worry, and it concerns you. The bad butterflies in your stomach, the bad thoughts in your head; you feel like right now, with you so vulnerable, there should be someone by your side — someone that is totally not Donghyuck. He clears his throat, "You know he didn't mean to, right? He wants time with you too, a lot, you know?"

"I know what I have, Hyuck," you reply, a chuckle at the end of your tone. You lean your back to the couch, head tilted up and voice hoarse, "and I'm fucking scared I'll take him for granted."

Donghyuck's heartbeat slows down, but you don't need to know that. If you're thinking of a similar situation, a place in time back then as cruel winters and as harsh as summer sunlight in the afternoon, you figure he doesn't need to know that, too.

You let out a huff and a smile, "I don't want to know how painful it is to lose Huang Renjun."

Donghyuck thinks he knows why you said it; things normally go down the drain when you start realizing why someone fell for a certain person — at least, he thinks. If his experience is a reliable source, this is the point where you start falling for that person too. When you see how gentle they are, how caring, how understanding. Maybe Donghyuck is lonely — maybe he just wants to be someone who holds another person, singing them lullabies until they fall asleep, much like Renjun does for you. Maybe you're really just lovely — maybe there's an undiscovered force in the universe that places you in the center of his everything. He makes note of the rejection in your confession, and he accepts it, gracefully.

This is the point where he suppresses all the what-ifs in his head — what if you gave me a chance? What if I met you first? What if I didn't skip class that day, and I was with Renjun, and I met you at the same time as him? Do you think you would've ended up with me? — but these thoughts, despite being concealed, they leave a constant reminder that they're still there. It's a truth you both already know, the words that drip like honey from his lips, "I could love you better, so much better."

It'd be a lie to say you didn't think of it, considering his feelings. It would be an even bigger lie if you said that you don't think anyone can love you better than Renjun — you know someone can, and with how you two are handling this, it wouldn't be so hard to. Donghyuck is just so easy to fall for — the way he always knows the right thing to say, the compliments he throws at people, how confident he is, how clingy he gets. You would lie if you're asked, but you can't deny having feelings for Donghyuck, you can't deny how many times you've fallen in a reverie thinking of how good it must feel to be adored by him. Maybe you were lonely, maybe Donghyuck was just like that. Either way, no matter how great this love could be, you know it's wrong. 

"I know you could. I couldn't be any happier when I'm with you. Those instants, they're one of the most beautiful moments in my life, but —" you halt, eyes still staring up at the ceiling. The twist in your gut tightens as you proceed, "But in those moments, I was secretly hoping for things. I was hoping that he was the one doing all of that for me. I was hoping that the happiness I had with you, he was giving me instead."

Donghyuck remains silent for a while. He smiles wistfully, "I know."

It's a rather odd answer, but you figure it shouldn't shock you as much anymore. You sit up straight, confused. Donghyuck motions for you to stand as he does the same. Stars shine in his eyes still, but it's a different light — there's hope in them, but it's a difficult kind of hope. He's beautiful even under dull lighting, it's something hard to pronounce; unrestrained and raw, as if one look at him and you'll crumble.

"Please, for just a while, even just a little bit," He steps closer, eyes downcast, "hold me like you love me."

You figure you were right about thinking that there was always something wrongfully more with Donghyuck — also discover that no matter how much more this feeling is, whatever it is, it can never be love; at least not a healthy one. What love could possibly ruin relationships? Donghyuck and Renjun are practically soulmates — they were made to be best friends, and while they had their other friends, nobody is just like Renjun and nobody is like Donghyuck. You don't want them to fall apart; you of all people know how hard it is to lose someone special. 

Donghyuck's hug felt like fire, uninhibited and uncontrolled, given to someone so undeserving. You hold him like you love him the same way.

"I don't need you to love me back," but maybe he was hoping a bit. Yeah. Maybe. "There was never a chance for us, you know? Against my own best friend, I know I won't stand a chance. I just wanted to hear it from you."

A pause.

"Because I can dance with you under the moon, and I can walk on streets holding your hands, I can give you all the time in the world — I could spend a lifetime telling everyone I'm yours," Donghyuck locks gazes with you, and you wonder how he manages to be both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. He shakes his head a bit, "But that won't make you love me."

"Because I can only ever catch you," he says wistfully "whenever he fails to. I always do, don't I? Catch you, save you, love you. But you're not falling for me. You're not in need of my saving. You're not mine to adore."

He loosens his hug, looks at you like the sun bidding farewell to the moon. He's just as beautiful, if not more, he really is — gold dusting his eyelids and strawberry balm on his lips — he's ethereal. Donghyuck is beautiful in all ways manageable and not, but it's also a different kind of beauty — quite like love, adventurous but uncertain, poetic but tragic. There's a lot of pain in this beauty. He closes his eyes.

"There's not much of us, but I'm setting you free."

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You find yourself knocking at Renjun's door that night, for no particular reason — certain events made you forget that he stood you up. Renjun apologizes and repeats his reasons like a mantra, but words seemed to leave his mouth once he sees your eyes; tired and sore. You don't really need his apologies. You just need him.

Apologies, you see, they almost always never come when they're asked for. When they do, they're mostly unwanted and unnecessary from that point forward. You just feel odd, more restless than you actually are, the world is too loud — you just want to close your eyes and escape for a bit. Renjun holds you silently the whole night, his heartbeat calm, his arms holding you tight and secure.

Renjun knows, but he decides it's better for him not to. He shifts a bit, "If not because of me, why are you sad?"

A part of you knows that this is his way of telling you he understands, that he's aware of what somethings happened behind his back. Renjun always knows. The bigger part of you hoped he didn't — selfishly. You know it's the safest choice to keep your mouth shut. 

You're sad, for a million reasons or for just one, you don't bother keeping up with the numbers. Renjun looks at you like you're a treasure, though, like he means it — you think the only favor you could do him and for yourself as well is to lie. You grin, effectively hiding away the tears threatening to brim your eyes, "I forgot."

He doesn't really know what answer he expected, but his heart sinks at the reply nonetheless. Renjun decides, tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes quickly in a way Renjun wishes it wasn't. He wakes up tired — he was up all night singing lullabies to himself, whispering confessions that wouldn't change a thing and promises he'll never be able to fulfill, stuff that would never make you stay. Renjun didn't cry all night — there was a tear or two, there was three — he didn't just cry all night. He did so much more — relive the past, think that he's sorry, accept defeat and the fact that he's never gonna be enough for you; then he closes his eyes. The rain pours heavily outside and Renjun reaches a hand out to the sky.

"Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?" he says with tired eyes. "One time once more, baby."

You ignore the telltale signs of a heartache — maybe you were too numb, maybe you wanted to pretend it's all normal. Renjun tugs you outside and pulls you into a hug so tight, as if he didn't want to let go but he's losing you. Is he? 

Dancing with Renjun under the rain is oddly similar to the one you shared with Donghyuck under the moonlight, and you find yourself full of guilt as you sway together with him, humming love songs just right next to your ear. 

Renjun knows of that dance, of course he does. He was in front of the place you two were supposed to meet at, hoping that he could still make it. Because of this, he doesn't ask why you're entwining fingers with his while recalling memories of another. He doesn't mind — he thinks, as long as your eyes look at him so softly like that, he doesn't mind anything.

You think Renjun is beautiful like this — his everything an aesthetic you can endlessly write about. His eyes, though, his eyes look distant, wishful and longing. Renjun looks at you like he's letting you go and your heart drops, as gentle and as sweet as the poems he's written of you and the kiss he gifts your lips with.

"Just leave, darling," he whispers, "Stay a lovely memory to me."

It's just like any lovely excerpts you wrote, the last line with Renjun quite familiar and bittersweet. As if in any other circumstances, had he said only the second sentence and the second sentence only, it would have made your heart skip and your cheeks rise in temperature.

Real love is a little not like literature, though, at least the one you had with Renjun isn't. It wasn't almost being the same person. It wasn't sweet chaos. For both of you, it was doing what was the best for each other at the moment — whether it will make you cry, whether it will be painful before it becomes easy, knowing that it won't always be picture perfect but still wanting to give each other what you deserve. It was so much simpler than how he said it in his poetry, just as complicated but not any less romantic than that. Huang Renjun knew that you were aware of what was the best for the both of you — with neither of you ever wanting to force something to work and end up hating each other the more it fails, successfully trading the happy memories with more regrets, you walk away. Renjun doesn't follow just because love isn't always like the idea of it, but he does remember to never forget. You walk away, holding his love dear to your heart.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

Some people are just not meant to be alone, you think. Mark Lee comes just as quickly as Renjun was gone.

You don't even know why your paths crossed — Mark is literally the town's golden boy. He plays sports and aces exams and has a good set of friends; surely, he has more important matters to deal with, and definitely getting coffee at a dingy coffee shop isn't one of them. Not when it's three a.m in the morning, at least.

The shy barista at the counter sends you a gleeful smile as he hands out your order, one which you return with a curt nod and a quiet wish goodnight. He watches intently, subtle but focused — he really isn't one to gawk at people, but he couldn't help it. You held with you a smile that doesn't match the exhaustion in your eyes. You looked like hope. You looked like someone to look up and search for the stars even on a cloudy day. You seemed like a full-bloomed spring to trapped minds and sour hearts. You think Mark is a little too curious like Alice. Mark thinks you're even better than the Wonderland he'd always fall for.

He knows you saw him, he feels the hesitation in your stare. He knows you know him, he's shared a couple of classes with you and has done a couple of assignments as a team, so naturally, Mark couldn't help himself but ask, "Wanna sit down with me?"

You walk up to him with a nod, grateful. Mark tries to remain calm for the rest of the night — caffeine not helping — and he tries to look at his book instead of you, but he simply fails to. He tries his best to conceal himself, but he can't seem to tear away. He can't look at anywhere else when you're sitting there right in front of him — you know pain, you're familiar with sadness, have always been friends with enduring what you couldn't take; Mark sees in you a landscape that makes his heart hurt, a leafless tree he loves by itself but couldn't resist the urge to nurse back into life. Every now and then you'd look up from your cup and he would look away from this book that he's "reading" and your eyes would meet, and the both of you would shyly giggle and open up a small talk.

He walks you home that night, this one and the other and the many next times after that; it's just your thing by now, getting coffee at the most unreasonable hours of the day and staying up until it's too late for either of you to sleep because by this hour you should be blinking awake, walking down lifeless streets and past neon signs and holding hands. Mark would look at you with such awe and when he does, you have some things you forget, and your heart races. He's became a regular part of your day, a constant stranger. And then he becomes your friend. Then kind of more. You think, maybe, just maybe, he can become something more than more.

"I have many regrets in this life, you know? But I don't wanna be imprisoned by them," you shrug, too scared to look up at him and see that he wonders just what failures you've done. You continue your slow pace, both in walking and letting go of things much like words, "I don't want you to be one of them."

Mark stops walking, but he doesn't make you feel like you've said something wrong, so you finally glace up and meets his eyes; those that hold as much tiredness as yours, pressure, those that are glassy and brimming with tears. You smile, "And I like you, a lot, even if I'm in broken pieces. "

Mark looks at you and doesn't see majestic brokenness. Mark falls deeper in love that day, the next and all the others; you were deep like that. He fell and couldn't stop falling and he can't wait to fall even deeper into you, diving into unknown waters with blind fates and silent confessions of love. 

Your relationship was practical — literal and convenient, full of compromise but in a good way. You both were almost always on the same page of what should be done and how to do it, and if not, you two know that it's the best to give it a rest and understand. The balance, that kind of synchrony — it was something you both need, was something you liked about your dynamic; the fact that the partnership was there and you're certain of no taking more than you could give and no giving of less than you deserve. For once, you feel like you aren't pouring liquid into a leaking jar, and you feel content at the warmth he gives you with.

Renjun never made you feel this way; he didn't make enough accommodations for your relationship and you didn't voice out your expectations of him, you just wished he magically knew. Because he always knew that you would understand and other people wouldn't, he ended up giving you most of the weight of the relationship you both should've carried together. Mark was everything you hoped Renjun was; this is where the conflict begins.

When love is fueled by what the past wasn't able to give and what the present is willing to offer, you end up falling for the ideas and not the person. He makes up to what Renjun didn't, he filled to the brim what Renjun wasn't able to, he satiates what Renjun couldn't satisfy. You always saw the things Mark did as what you expected from someone else, so you weren't able to appreciate them as they are. You never truly saw him as Mark Lee who loves you, always as the boy who did everything the last didn't. 

Just as any relationship that revolves around somebody who's not involved, the conclusion was something you saw coming. It comes with tired eyes and worn out sighs, burned out hearts and linked fingers, sour hearts turning bitter. Mark doesn't look at you at all, and you keep your eyes set to the stars.

"The thing with me is I always long for consistency — for someone to understand me and stay understanding of me forever." He breathes out, voice raw. Did he scream? Was he screaming in those empty spaces you two gave each other? In any of those yells, did he call your name? You think you need to yell at the top of your lungs just to hear a sound louder than your heartbreak. He chuckles before continuing, "And I know that it doesn't exist and it never will. I knew that since childhood, but even if I continue disappointing myself, I never stopped hoping."

His shoulders drop — he feels that weak that time, even his knees buckle down and his eyes sting from holding back tears. "So baby, don't play with me," he whispers, more begging than warning and he falls apart, "I don't need a chase — I need someone to wait for the end with."

There's a whine at the back of your throat, but you settle with looking at his direction with an apologetic call of his name. He doesn't reply.

Mark never knew that he could fall in love with the same person all over again even during a break-up. You're just lovely like that — always dancing in your daydreams while you carry the world on your back. Mark feels his breath catch at his throat, he feels his palms go numb, he feels his heart going haywire and begging him so desperately because no, no, don't let go, please, don't let go! 

"There's a huge difference between how much I love you, and how much I can take." He finally spares you a glance, his everything so spent and lonely and blue in a way that isn't the calm of an ocean. "If you can't love me, then please let me go."

Mark knew your answer when you smiled.

────── ❁ ──────

The trip to the coffee shop was slow and empty and chilly, your hands trembling in need to get a hold of warm coffee and your feet taking little steps to such a familiar place. Honestly, you don't even know why you're letting yourself go there — why do you keep on doing this, torturing yourself? You don't even know — maybe you came here to reminisce the past, hold it close one last time before letting it go. Maybe you're here to remember how Mark was, how he was before he met you — oh, how you wish he didn't meet you. How badly you wish he never did, how you wish he never offered you a seat, his comfort, his love, a place in his heart. How you wish you didn't steal the sparkles in his eyes, and at that very moment, you feel the sudden urge to turn around. 

But you're already pushing the glass door wide open, causing the chimes to make that delightful sound.

"Good...!" the cheery voice fades, a concerned look adorning exhausted eyes, "...evening. The usual?"

You hum, nodding soullessly. The boy — Jeno, quietly works your order until he decides he's had enough of you rubbing your cheeks raw wiping down tears. He sighs and finishes your drink, hands it to you with a sympathizing smile, "Uh, you don't look fine, but are you okay?"

You suppress a giggle and a glare — why does he care? But you're lonely, too lonely, so lonely that you only manage a nod, "Rough time. I wish today didn't happen."

"Oh, but other people had the best day of their lives today. They wouldn't experience that day if today didn't happen," he smiles, flashes of child-like optimism and hopes hinting behind the sleepy glaze in his eyes. "You're on your way to yours."

And while on any other day, his reply would have made you annoyed, you find that he's right, and wish that he indeed is. You feel like it's the only right that didn't go wrong today.

Something warns you that you shouldn't be getting yourself caught in his strings and his ways, but you find yourself straying around his orbit. You were lonely. It was that bad — so bad that you found comfort in everything and everyone and Lee Jeno just happened to be convenient; It's just safe to be around each other, and that's what great friends are supposed to be, right? Jeno doesn't judge and he doesn't pry when you tell him not to push it, and he tries to understand without forcing you to make him if you're not ready. Lee Jeno had a soul like comfort and a smile like a piece of home. You insist that you had no interest in either, but with you so down and him the only thing pulling you up, you couldn't help but let him in.

You think some people are just like that — timeless souls stuck in mortal bodies, liquid gold; glowing and burning and bright and hopeful, stars. They're like stars — human stars.

He's always beside you, you see, Lee Jeno. He answers the dumbest questions and the deeper ones, he stays up listening to your heartaches and struggles. He knows a lot about you — never everything, but they're more than enough — and you know about him, too. It's a dangerous edge you two are leaning far too close to tipping over, and still, your gaze screams life and hope and energy, Jeno thinks he doesn't mind. He remembers earlier memories with him crumbling under your fingertips, tears in his eyes.

"Mark Lee... he's not replaceable and I'm not a replacement..." he shifts his eyes down, can't bring it to him to just look at you without breaking himself. He manages a heartwrenching smile, "but I think I'd rather be a replacement rather than a distraction, darling."

But you looked at him and cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead so mellowly, assuring him that he's neither. The storm in his heart stops and all his insecurities don't matter, and Jeno doesn't think he ever felt this good — so light, so dreamy. Your touch brings comfort, much like lullabies, and after years on insufferable insomnia, Jeno falls asleep.

Your gaze, too. If you continue looking at him that way, he doesn't think he'll mind anything.

"Thanks, Jen. For the coffee," you say with a smile, another night spent with him at the coffee shop. These days, you spend most of your free time waiting for his shift to end, watching him stutter and flush every time he realizes you've been watching him. There's a giddy feeling spreading inside your gut as you continue, "and for staying with me. That was so thoughtful of you — how much lovelier can you be?"

He laughs, shaking his head. He sighs, "Stop it. You're giving me hope."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Oh, but I want to," you quickly roll your eyes, an attempt to faux cool control, your expression immediately shifting to something welcoming and soft just enough that his chest tightens. Jeno feels kind of odd — a good kind of odd, a welcomed sensation. You beam up at him with glassy eyes. Jeno shifts his to his shoelaces.

"Don't do that."

"Jen..."

"I love you," he confesses, shallow breaths coming in quick intervals. The floor seems to sway under his feet and the skies feel like they're swirls of dripping liquid, and it's hard to even breathe, let alone swallow the bitterness of his words, "But I would rather have you not say it back than hear you not mean it."

"I'm... I— Jen," you gasp out, fast to hold his hands to try to keep him down. For a reason or two, you feel like crying. Jeno feels lost. "I'm falling."

But you're not, and you don't know why you said it, but there's a galaxy in his eyes and the universe so beautifully laid down in his mind and he's pulling you close, tears in his eyes, this boy. Lee Jeno who's so in love with you, Lee Jeno who's hopelessly whipped, Lee Jeno — your sweet, sweet boy. You look up to him and shakily whispers, "Please catch me."

Jeno looks at the luminaries and wonders what it would feel like if one day he looks into the very same orbs only to find that the stars have fallen.

The wind blows gently, the coldness of the place prickling his skin, but Jeno doesn't think it's what caused the flush to rise on his cheeks. He stutters, curses a little, says again those little words and dives for a kiss — you feel like it's the best night ever; no nightmare, just pure bliss. 

You blindly walk the path inside your house, dropping your belongings on either of your sides. You try to keep your knees from buckling as you bring yourself to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes. You lean your back to the cold tile walls of your shower, feeling the rush of water that is supposed to drown your thoughts not doing anything to keep them at bay. What have I done?

Loving Jeno is easy, though, far too easy if you may. He's so full of love and in need of affection but never asks for them, and you're more than glad to give all of that to him without words needed. The days with him have been light-hearted, felt deeply nonetheless. In this little world, it's you and him, him and you, no one else. Right? Is that right? Do you promise?

Jeno knocks at your home one day, sullen and lethargic. He spreads his arms out for a hug, one you throw yourself into without hesitation. He leans into the touch, leaning down to burry his head on the crook of your neck, "Thank you, baby."

Your brows draw closer, "For what?"

"You were never mine, but you were always lonely." He suddenly says, He suddenly says, voice fading weak and unstable. There's warm tears dampening your shoulder, and he shakes ever so slightly that you panic and try to pull away, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he continues, "In my twisted logic, I made myself believe that it's the same."

"What are you saying, Jen?" You laugh, a bit confused and a lot afraid. "I love you."

"No, please, don't say that," his reply baffles you. When he lets you go, Jeno has a certain saddened look in his eyes, and it feels so familiar that you should be numb to it by now. You're not, though, and so you pretend to not know where this all would lead. He pulls you in again and hugs you tighter, "Let me tell you that I love you without you answering back, please."

The boy breathes out shakily, "I want us to have at least one memory that isn't a lie."

And then Lee Jeno says goodbye.

────── ❁ ──────

Park Jisung is the clumsy florist who keeps breaking vases in the flower shop his cousin owns, just several blocks away from the kindergarten both your nephews attended. You meet him one too many times you had to pick the little boy up, and talked to him finally one fine Tuesday when you decided flowers would be nice, out of random. You become friends from then on. 

This thing you have with Jisung is something lovely, child-like, and carefree. It doesn't put any pressure on you — there are expectations, but they're all voiced out and kept healthy. You're friends — great friends, not best friends — whose dynamic is not necessarily convenient. It's safe to say that some people think you have a complicated relationship.

You think, not really. Not to the two of you, at least — Jisung just knows when you're down and in need to be left alone or cuddled, while you know when he needs to cry or if he's pushing himself to his limits. He knows what flower you hold most dear, your treasured scent, your favorite shade of yellow. You know his most loved tracks, the beat he looks the happiest humming to, the color of his dreams. It's much more simple than that — it's just that you two have fun, even with your differences, and when you're together, everything else just fades away.

You just... don't like being alone. Jisung doesn't like not having company — well, there are indeed people he doesn't want to be accompanied by, but he doesn't like being the only one walking alone in crowds of many. He doesn't make your heart skip, not really, instead it's just a warm feeling in your chest, much like home. He doesn't make you nervous — not at all, but he does make you feel safe. Comforted, even. It's the type of love you've always yearned for, the only kind of love he's comfortable with.

"You dance?" Your eyes widen in surprise, dropping your book on the table. Then you smile, "Oh? Aren't you full of surprises?" 

"Mhm, you'll see." He says with embarrassment hinting his voice, but then he stops arranging the flowers and looks at where you're sitting. "You? Aren't you full of surprises, too?"

You pick up your book, a sudden low, shrugging. "It won't be a surprise if I say now, wouldn't it?"

He just shakes his head, tries to lift the vase to the other side and accidentally knocks another one down. You laugh at him, curious at how much control he has over his body that he must be able to dance so fluidly, hit the beat like it's what he's born for, and yet he can't seem to hold a vase and not break it. Jisung giggles, taking it lightly. You wish he didn't. 

The days with Jisung are filled with your favorite bouquets and post-it notes. Each and every day, the words written inside changes from 'You did well', until it develops to 'I hope you smiled today,' 'I wish something good happened today,' and 'You're really, really pretty.' He'd take you to little uphills, asks you to teach him how to make floral crowns from wildflowers, dance with you barefoot under bright daylight. A little summer, a certain person, your most dreaded feeling of having someone mean so much that you let flowers bloom in your chest until it's so hard to breathe and you cough them up.

"My parents asked me to study dance in another country," he mumbles one day, a shaky breath leaving his lips, "Please give me a reason not to go."

"Chase your drive, Sungie," you whisper back. You lean your head further to his chest, safe and warm and fading, "I love you, so choose your dreams over me."

There's the slightest hint of betrayal in his voice, a tinge of rejection in his eyes, "If you love me, why would you make me choose?"

If you love me, why can't you choose me? You selfishly ask, the kid in you whining at the thought of being left alone. The greedy part of you begs to ask him to stay, the needy part of you wants to hug him until he's so full of you that he forgets even the bare thought of wanting anything else. The silent voice inside you, the one that learned and keeps learning, the one that could've saved you so many times if you listened to it, sighs sadly. Don't risk anyone's future for your present, it seems to say.

"Because I love myself too," you look directly to his eyes, cupping his cheeks in between your palms, "and we need to put ourselves before anybody else."

And yet again, you're starstruck by the almost golden swirls in his irises, a peek of his soul. You think his eyes are beautiful — astounding, art worthy, a sight to never get tired of. He thinks they're only beautiful because he's looking at you.

This thing with Jisung isn't something you should've let go. You shouldn't have let him go but you weren't ready and the last thing you wanted was to hurt someone who held you so close beautifully. He didn't mean to, though — it was just too hard not to go overboard, and the next thing he knew, he was in love. He didn't mean to, so he walks you home the last night, hand in hand with a certain something hidden underneath his mellow smile. Jisung stands in front of you, waiting for you to open your gates, but you don't move. You stay basking in the tenderness of his gaze.

You think the little problem is that he's even more breathtaking up close and in silence, when the night feels so dead that it thrives — you feel like if you weren't so broken, if you don't keep on seeing another person when you look at him in the eyes, if you let go of the past, Jisung would be everything your heart desired. It just so happened that you two are both too infinite for forever, too broken to fix anything for the latter. Jisung was too charming — his smile was one that doesn't ask for attention but still steals it, never content with just taking your breath away so he takes with him your mind and soul.

You can't handle losing any more of yourself, though, so you smile, "Thank you for waiting."

"I have always been waiting for you," he grins shyly. You make a mental note to remember him like this — dyed locks a mess on top of his head and glasses messily perched on his nose bridge, tall and too pretty to be real, eyes so loving and expressive. There's an obvious sorrow in his voice, "Without fail, consistently, inevitably, forevermore."

You smile, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheeks, "Good night, Jisung."

The last note comes in between the pages of your notebook, a pretty pastel purple accompanied by pressed wildflowers. There, in his messy letters and colorful ink, reads a confession:

Maybe I couldn't stop myself from falling because it felt like flying with you.

You shake your head, sigh reading 'I told you not to do that'. Still, you feel a tug at your chest, a link between the two of you in the sense that you seem to be moving in synchrony with these words — Park Jisung is your last love, you swear. You shift your eyes, tired of the same chain all over again, flipping the note to read the words behind them. 

When you find the right love at the wrong time, what will you do to make it work? 

You sigh to yourself as you read the question, tracing the pristine paper with your pen, and finally, finally you smile;

Let it go. Set it free, because the greatest love of all is the one that lets you grow.

You tilt your head up, holding back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. 

────── ❁ ──────

Zhong Chenle invades your life like a hurricane of mixed emotions, a little like three months just in time when you finally decided you've had enough heartbreaks. You meet him from one of your friends, Qian Kun, and literally had to stop and wonder how in the world he managed to find this thing — you can't help it, alright? Chenle just stood silent and proud, clad in leather and rumors and reputations and reeking of expensive. He comes in the scene like thoughts as turbulent as unwanted flashbacks and as easily as finding trouble looking for the right answer when you're in a rush.

Quickly as he entered your life, he became a friend; you're too familiar with this scene, but you've had enough. You can't take any more. You've spent most of your life haunted by sugar smiles and breathy laughs and in exchange, had yourself break everything you wanted to keep intact. It doesn't matter that he's not at all what he's perceived to be, it doesn't matter that he makes your breath hitch. You don't even care what you're going against with, if it's fate or heavenly beings or the world — no more. You can't anymore.

The world is the ocean and the ocean is a God — people are mere sailors who think they're stronger than the tides, but they're not; once the waters have made their decision to kill you, there's no reason you should fear the phenomenons trying to do you harm. It seems like it's made that plan, that thing you hoped so much you wouldn't do. Chenle knows so he smiles at you brightly, "Don't you dare run away from what you're feeling."

"Else what, you gonna run after me?" You bite back just for the sake of it, laughter bubbling from your throat, "Gonna go chase me down?"

He shrugs, taking a challenge and a risk, "You better not regret."

"Absolutely fucking not." Kun hisses after you've told him what happened, months after you've started dating and you're tired of hiding it already. Your friends already tease you about getting together, anyway, so why should you even hide? Apparently, this. The profanities leaving his mouth should worry you, really, but it doesn't; not as much as his disagreement. Still, you couldn't even bother to ask him why because you see it in his eyes — you know him that much, you're familiar with that look — "You're not in love with Chenle, please, we both know this."

"I am in love with him!" You say, hurt. The look in his eyes softens, but the pain of his word doesn't, neither does his determination, "Kun, please. I didn't tell you just so you could lecture me, I told you because you're my friend! I do love him!"

"Are you, really? In love with him, you say? Completely?" Your eyes shift to the side after his statement, the lack of sarcasm and warmth in his tone both bothering you. You want to cry. When you look at Kun, you find he feels just as much. "You're not in love with him in the way he deserves."

There's a dry chuckle leaving your lips as you grab your bag, standing up with a tear slowly rolling down in your cheek. More than devastation, there's a certain withering look in your eyes. Kun tries to apologize, but you're already moving away from him. The betrayal in your voice is impossible to ignore and forget, "How dare you make accusations about how I'm feeling?"

Falling in love with Chenle wasn't in the plan; in fact, you hardly even had any plans to begin with. As another fact, the only plan was to not fall in love with anyone anymore. Plans are ever-changing things, you'd always counter, they depend on the situation. When Chenle came in your life, you figure there happened to be another shift — something significant had changed, a good change.

Maybe it is why you didn't even take Kun seriously. You've always hoped that all those lows would lead to this point, the part where there's content spreading on your chest, a feeling just as bright as the luminescent blanket of embedded diamonds and rubies, a sky full of stars. By your side, the boy looks at you with eyes shining just as much; Zhong Chenle, badly misunderstood, so truly loved. You couldn't help but pull him in a kiss — giggly and messy, chaste and ever so delicate. 

You think you could spend lifetimes just staring at him. You swore on it, really, to not be in love with him. More than anybody else, you hoped to fate that you'll never fall in love again. It's just that this person — Zhong Chenle, he has a tendency to be very addicting, and oh, how easily addicted you are. His kiss a lovely burn against your lips, his words a heavenly whisper to your ear, his existence a delightful surprise. You find it inevitable to fall because of the many similar nights before this, just weeks after you two met. Those days where you two were laughing way too hard for midnight and your heart blossomed with happiness it hasn't felt for long. It's the sweetest kind of doom.

It's doom, nonetheless. 

"With whom was your first relationship with?" Chenle suddenly asks, no hint of jealousy in his eyes, but there is, aside from pure curiosity, something else — lost, baffled, seeking an explanation for something he doesn't even think he should know. "I mean, you're mine. You're my first love, but I know I'm not yours, and I'm curious. "

"You don't even know him, Lele." You laugh, trying to hide your hesitation. The boy insists, says that he just needs a name. You roll your eyes affectionately, "Huang Renjun. He's a great guy, but timing kinda messed up."

Chenle hums appreciatively, but he stops trying to find constellations and making up shapes of his own; instead, he dives in a pool thoughts deeper than the dark. He thinks of what he doesn't know if he believes in, but he keeps his eyes up at the stars and hopes to God that his life wasn't such a movie; he stays quiet.

"Who's Jaemin, then?" The question comes, harmless but shocking nonetheless. Chenle breaks his stare from the dull-starred sky and looks at you with a smile brighter than daylight. His question makes your gut twist. "Jaemin who danced with you under the rain... Jaemin who made your day with corny jokes, with late-night talks, with coffee, with notes."

You don't reply, so he ponders some more. He thinks about walking the streets holding hands, he thinks of cheek kisses. He thinks of waking up tomorrow and doing all of that with you. He looks forward to a couple of years — maybe you'll move in together, maybe you'll share a place and clothes and everything. He thinks of counting down the memories, having lived most of his life satisfied. Chenle thinks of doing it all with you; someone who takes tragedies and turns them into masterpieces. Someone who sings sad songs with a saccharine smile.

"Jaemin with a reputation, known for all the wrong reasons..." his eyes cast down, dull and slowly piecing everything together, "Just like me."

He thinks of a vow, a promise — to the stars, till dawn do us part. He thinks of how near the sun is from rising, and he thinks of silhouette, of being hidden behind one. You don't answer until then, so he just takes it as your reply.

"You don't have to. I already know," he smiles, fingers entwining with yours. "Maybe I just hoped that I didn't have to find out from Kun."

Chenle is innocent, kind of naive. He wears his heart on his sleeves and gifts its pieces to anyone who dares to get to know him. He loves a lot — his friends, his family, stars. A person who grieves the loss of midnight too, when the stars start to fade; you. Because of that, he could forgive anything you did and would do.

It's one of his many ways of love, you see, this thing you have going on. Chenle's just like that — you never know just how much more he can give before he runs out; there's just so much of him and it's difficult to put it into words. He's shown you how he treasures relationships, how he adores everything around him in each and every time a different way and kind. He's shown you so much, all the ways he displays his affection with, this little magic trick. That's not all of it, though, and a little part of you sinks because of the fact that a lifetime will not be sufficient enough for you to know just what this love is, completely, because every passing moment, the boy falls for something; each fondness different from the lasts.

Chenle just loves like that; so much that he doesn't mind being loved for carrying pieces of another person — being adored simply because he made you remember what you didn't want to forget. He thinks, if he doesn't think it matters, it wouldn't; he prays that if he doesn't bring it up, you'd forget. He's loved you for so long but you know so little of his kind of love; ever so pure and limitless, impossible to define and dictate. 

When he holds your hands, though, you feel like it's enough — it's enough to have known slightly more than what you think you should.

"You give too much," are the only words that you were able to form. He looks at you as if to ask if you think so, and you feel the time stop for a bit when he leans his head on your shoulders, his dark locks tickling your skin. You laugh, humorless and sentimental, "Isn't it about time you'd learn to love within limits?"

"You're brilliant, you know?" He mumbles, albeit sleepily. "Kind of infinite. There are no restrictions in the love you deserve."

Something about brilliant just hits so different from beautiful — something so damning and sweet and you feel it again; just how much love you have in you, how much of it you are willing to give. Maybe boundaries really aren't your thing, maybe its the reason why you let Chenle adore you beyond what you know you can take, why you allowed him to give more than he should've given. Maybe it's why you poured affection after affection without conditions — maybe that's why you were selfish enough to love shadows. Maybe it's as most people say — you tend to burn too bright, to share too much of yourself, and not everybody can handle that. You're a bit too much for others. Maybe it's why you find yourself sitting down, pen roughly scribbling on paper.

Somewhere, there's a soul aching for your love... but no matter how much we try, we know it's not here, with me.

────── ❁ ──────

Kun doesn't knock at your door until a few weeks later, and whether it was him giving you space or him not being able to leave Chenle alone, you think of it as a blessing in disguise. It wasn't even after a week or two that you found it in you to get your life together — fake it till you make it, clean up your home, clean up your mess. You greet him with a smile on your face, tears prickling your eyes, "Come in."

Kun doesn't even say anything, he just puts the snacks he bought somewhere and crashes the sofa. He turns off the television, eyes the clearly was-messy place, and huffs at you, "It's just me. You don't have to play cool with me when you're feeling so broken."

"You're acting so much like Kim Dongyoung." You whisper just enough that he could hear before making your way to him and sobbing in his arms. Kun lets you stay like that, his hands threading your hair and affectionately patting your back, a soft 'I told you you're not ready yet' that's less scolding than it is loving. You stop crying then, just miserable sobs and sniffles, and he stands up to get you a cup of water. You look at him.

 "Thank you, Kun."

Suddenly, his not amused expression is back. He moves away a little, placing a strict space in between the two of you, and then directly looks into your eyes, "Were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Were you ever gonna tell me, or was I just supposed to learn about it after you've left?"'

"Kun," you breathe deeply, "I need to."

"For who?" He asks, hoping that amongst the reasons read your name. Are you finally choosing yourself? Is it still because of other people? He wants to ask, but his voice keeps failing him and all he can whisper is words about how he's proud of you, how much you've endured, how badly he wishes to ease the pain. Kun doesn't look at you with disappointment, with hurt; he looks at you with pure utter understanding, and you find it in you, a reason to smile.

────── ❁ ──────

You can't help but reminisce things as you walk from your home to the train station, neither can you when you asked the person in charge for which train will get you out of the place the quickest. You didn't really have plans, you never did, and perhaps that's where everything starts to go wrong; you just forget things, or at least, you try to suppress them. You never tried to solve anything.

This town knew too much — there are memories of Renjun on the trail from here to the benches, flashes of Donghyuck's sly grin meeting your gaze in the reflection of the glass whenever you look at the vending machines. You feel like you've walked every street in here, hand in hand with Mark, like you've danced under all these blinking lights with Jisung, like you've been to everywhere with Chenle. There is so much to remember, and this place can't hold them all and it breaks your heart so much, knowing that many things are meant to be memories, but not all memories should be remembered. You close your eyes in silent hopes that no matter how painful, you never forget one second.

It was impossible, surely, but you think that the thought of being able to recall them completely will be enough to keep you company. Even until now, you don't really want to be alone — some people are just not meant to be by themselves, and sometimes those people aren't really good at settling down either — being one of them, you leap from one crumbling bridge to another, hoping to never feel the pain of a great fall. There was never an end where you didn't. 

Waiting for the train to board, you look back to a certain place in time. The one where you think everything began.

Your first love is something you remember vividly. It came in the form of childhood crushes, wildflowers, and ruined playgrounds. It's a coincidental meeting; you were running away from your house, tired of the yelling and the crashing and the constant fear in your little heart, while he was sneaking away from his house to play more because he's a 'rebel'. Your first heartbreak takes some years forward, years just a little far from now even if it feels like it's been forever standing here, waiting for an uncertain return.

Until now, you think that it was that night under a rusty slide and above dry leaves when your life started to change.

You meet again with Na Jaemin just minutes before your train arrives, a brief eye-contact and a skip of heart and it doesn't take so much for you to know; those eyes, that smile, the red string sitting too tightly on his wrist. You remember what promise that meant — you know that, right? The thing they say about red strings, how they connect people? — and what childish hope that strand held — if we wear this, we would always find our way to each other, because we have a red string connecting us now! You remember, you do, really — of course, you do; how you could you ever forget him? Surely, maybe he's grown a lot, and everything about him has changed, he even dyed his soft hair blue. You're certain, though, you knew that it's him — maybe the red string worked. Maybe it's the butterfly effect and the heartbreaks your heart and several others nursed. Maybe it's the look in his eyes that remained soft and sweet and honest.

You miss your train, but you can't help but feel like you're just in time.

"Jae—" you choke, eyes wide and shocked, "Jaemin!"

────── ❁ ──────

Na Jaemin meets you again on a busy train station, three years ago after he just came back in town for a visit. He remembers the punch in his gut at the sight of your face, the red string delicately wrapped on your wrist, far too small but still so beautiful. He remembers the sullen look on your face, the realization dawning on him that you're late for your class and he chuckles; you never really made it in time for school, even as a child. The rain pours and he has to fiddle his bag for his umbrella, opens it so that he could let you in. When he takes a step closer though, you were talking to another boy, and Jaemin thinks he's the one a little late.

He comes across you a lot of times next to that, too, but never when you're alone. He thinks, his timing is a mildly off as well. Every time he tries to come and talk to you — when you were sitting alone in the middle of a busy restaurant, inside the coffee shop, in front of his niece's kindergarten — there was always somebody else. It reminds him of back then, one of your conflicts as you started to grow up and apart; the many times you needed each other and the other person is too caught up needing someone else. Jaemin thinks that the beat you both are dancing to is a little too delayed.

Jaemin remembers meeting a boy just as blue as him, a face a little familiar, smiling longingly at the two dancing under the moon. He remembers eyes as regretful as his, he remembers a smile, "They look so happy, don't they?"

None of that matters, though, not when he's pulling you into a hug and dragging you to a rooftop, not when you're several floors off the ground and beside you is Na Jaemin, sitting side by side, with eyes that take you back to the past and makes you hope for an unbroken present.

When you two stand under the bright sky and you stare at him instead of gushing about flying, Jaemin realizes just how drastically different this present is. If the look in your eyes says anything, he's certain that you feel the same.

You have just always been waiting for this moment, you know? And you missed your train, but you were just in time to meet Jaemin, and the rush of affection cleared all the lines you had to cross and everything was light and filled with teary laughter before right now. You've had it planned, the both of you, multiple scenarios where you two could meet again — none of them are this way. It's awkward and tense and the other feels so far away; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Jaemin could leave. He should leave, he figures, thinking that it's always been what he's best at. It's not working, anyway; maybe it was him being gone and you going through so much, maybe it's life knocking some sense in the both of you, but none of that matters — it's not working. It's just like this, relationships — two people could start at the same point and still go separate ways. It's not meant to be. He could leave, forget, maybe he'd find enough courage that he marks this chapter closed and finally, finally stop thinking of childhood feelings and even the grown-up ones. He could find a new beginning in this chapter closed.

That's the way it goes, anyway, right? Some ends feel like new starting points. Jaemin could drop it here. He could make it easier for himself, he'd be able to say this isn't working and he'd be back to his normal self; the one that looks at you and looks for you in a way that he did before falling in love. He could be young and free, away from untold reasons and unsaid apologies and undelivered feelings. He could make it easier for himself.

But to hell with ease, he didn’t want to.

"Remember, back then, we would always sneak out to play in the rain?" Jaemin is the first to break the silence, "And we look at flowers... you used to cry at everything back then!"

You flick his arm at that, and he sits on the floor next to the railing because he couldn't hold himself up anymore, laughing. Even until now, this still feels like a very vivid dream. You spend the night trying to believe that this is reality — Jaemin does the same.

Fate has a tendency to bring people apart and put them back together again, so you can't really help it that Jaemin was months and weeks away from leaving the town again. There was a point where you cursed time — you just found him, and now, why is he being taken away from you? There was a time where Jaemin thought you weren't meant to be — if you are, then why do you keep on being forced apart?

He thinks he really should stop thinking this way. It's just something really odd, this love stuff, because it's never really just one thing but rather a couple of many nothings to make up an entirely different, supposedly magical occurrence. Love is never just love — it's oftentimes euphoria with even the slightest glimpse of devastation. Jaemin doesn't think he understands why the both of you try so hard to make it easy — no matter how difficult, he knows it's worth it, knows that he'll fight for it.

Jaemin spends his last day in this place smiling, cupping your cheeks as he stands in the middle of a busy train station yet again, this time, with you in his reach. The skies are dark but his smile is bright, and it burns brighter when you flush after asking him why he's staring at you so hard. The boy cooes, "Perfect should try to be you."

"If perfect was me, perfect would be a mess," you quickly counter even through you being too flustered. In your absolute anxiety, you think that everyone is looking and judging you. With the way Jaemin is staring at you, you don't think you'd mind even if they whisper things so mean.

"A lovable mess," he raspily whispers, sincerity in his gaze and honesty in his words. Jaemin smiles, "I can't make this up. I fall for you several times a day, repeatedly."

Jaemin lets go of your face and dips in to kiss your forehead, and then he giddily messes your hair. You can't even bring it in you to get mad — you have several minutes and you have so much to say and the time is too little, your words are so limited. Jaemin asks for your hands and leaves a red string, identical to the ones you gave each other as children but bigger and adorned with the tiniest butterfly charm. You look at him, confused, "What's this?"

"A farewell gift, and something I'll definitely come back for," he flicks your forehead as if to say it's so obvious, and you can't help but feel like time is running out all over again. You breathe, unsteady and ragged, a desperate call of his name, "Na Jaemin?"

He doesn't answer, but he wipes the tears streaming down your face and he hums.

"I'm so happy that the ending is me and you." You finally confess, taking him aback. You smile, sweet and cruelly beautiful, brutally emotional, and if there were no children around and Jaemin was a tad bit more shameless, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He couldn't, though, so he just gapes and stares and listens.

"I'm so happy that it's back to you."

As the train boards, you find yourself realizing how tough the world gets — the lovely, sinking feeling lingering in your chest as you recall the highs and the lows of life and fate.

You've had far too many great loves in your life, so much that using the term would probably not sound special anymore to other people — but they're different, each one of them, the way they loved distinct at least — and this one, just this one, Na Jaemin, by far, is the greatest.

The end is sweet and lovely, if a bit sour and bitter. The end is where you hopefully find yourself.

────── ❁ ──────

"Mom and dad keeps on fighting. " your nephew murmurs under his breath, one sunny Friday spent walking on streets that are cooling down, on the way to what must be the happiest place on Earth for a kid. "Do you think they don't love each other anymore?"

You nervously scratch your nape, thinking of easy ways to reply to the question. You think of your childhood, how you spent most of it dreaming of love. How until today, the thought of it still haunts you. You just shrug, "People just have some bad days, but look, they're still together, right?" he nods, and you feel a blossom of proudness in your chest, "They love each other, and that's why they had you."

The kid suddenly frowns, "Why do people get together, then?"

You halt your steps before continuing, on the verge of asking why he asked that question before you realize that it's your nephew, anyway. He loves holding mature conversations even if he doesn't understand anything, he likes asking away and being taken seriously, like an adult. You chuckle, "Uhm, because people make each other happy!"

"Why don't you have someone, then?" You don't know how to answer his question, and neither did you expect it. He looks too interested to be brushed off. "You said people make other people happy!"

"Hm, well, I do have someone," you think of sugar smiles and giggly kisses as you say those words. There's a comforted exhale leaving your lips as you look down on the kid, "But, he's not the only reason I'm happy... I'm happy with myself, without him."

"Do you not love him, then? Because you're happy without him?"

"I love him, I do, a lot! We went through a lot to find each other again," you smile kindly, patient. "But it's a different kind of love, just like how it is a different kind of happy with him."

His lips jut out, wondering about things not so completely disconnected from his first questions. He then sighs as if he's carrying the weight of the world, "If you had to find each other again, it means one of you left. Why did one of you leave if you love each other, then?"

Why?

"Well, you see, maybe..." there's no answer pouring from your lips, but emotions threaten to spill from your eyes and then down your cheeks. The child won't understand your tears, though, so you think of familiar faces and the one you entwined your fingers with, like home. You keep your head held high. "Maybe it's so that we could find each other again in a time where we would be better versions of ourselves."

It's not enough to sate his curious mind. "But if he's almost always never here, how are you supposed to know if he's the love you're supposed to have, then?"

"The love I'm meant to find has always been here, within me," you say genuinely, and the child, ever so confused but curious, remains silent to understand. You shake your head a bit, "but with him, this love grows bigger and bigger, and it helps us cross any kind of distance between us."

Finally satisfied, he stops asking questions at the sight of his most favorite place, muttering incomprehensible gibberish as he tugs you closer to the entrance. Then you think of how happy you are to be standing under this sky, above this ground — you think of the butterfly effect, all the little moments and major events, and everything that passed and will forever remain remembered. You think of all that lead you to this.

You look at the reflection of yourself from the glass walls of the candy shop, and you couldn't help a smile. The look in your eyes screams dreamy as you push open the door. This is it — you're on the way to loving yourself. 

Welcome home.

[fandom-necromancer]

1214. You never told me you had a diary.

This was prompted by the amazing @detroitbecomestickman! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Allen60 (Warnings: Talk about trauma and coping mechanisms on a hurt/comfort level)

Sixty was perfect. In any way. He was clearly superior to any other model working for the DPD, being one of the prototype RK800s. His only competition would be Connor and RK900 over on the police side of the building the SWAT shared with the 5th precinct. But Connor was far too much of a people-pleaser, often forgetting the mission over helping the people around him that could very well defend themselves. The supposedly more advanced RK900 had been promising at the start but had fallen for his co-worker mere three months of working together. Sixty had nothing against falling in love with a human, he himself had fallen for Captain Allen. But RK900 had chosen Gavin Reed. And if that wasn’t enough to prove something was wrong with his programming, Sixty couldn’t help it.

No, he was impeccable and proud of it. If anything, his human didn’t deserve anything less than perfect. Lately that had him worried though. Allen had offered him to move in with him and Sixty had been overjoyed to accept. But spending all of his time with the human also meant he would be able to see those errors before Sixty could correct them. It meant that he would see what measures the android took to remain that way. He would see how broken he really was deep down under all that work that he put into-

‘Hey, Sixty, is this the last box?’ The android looked up to find Allen holding a cardboard box in his arms. ‘Yes, if it’s number three, then yes.’ He looked at the little two-box-tower next to the door. He didn’t have much in personal belongings and most of the space in those two was just paper filling to keep his things safe. Only that last box was really heavy, one of several reasons why Sixty had wanted to fetch it from the car. ‘Wait, let me take that’, he said, already walking towards the man. But Allen just elegantly side-stepped him with a grin. ‘Nope. Not going to happen!’, he laughed. ‘This is just books, right? I’ll put them in my bookshelf. I already cleared some space for them. You go put your things anywhere you want. My home is yours now!’ ‘Err… fine, okay, I will’, Sixty stammered. ‘Just… don’t look into them, okay?’ ‘Got it! We are sharing our lives, but not our books, that’s too personal!’ The Captain was joking, but Sixty felt like he needed to make himself clear. Even if that meant Allen would know something was up. ‘I mean it, okay?’ ‘Alright!’, Allen held up his hands in defence. ‘I won’t read a thing. Care to explain why?’

Sixty had opened the first box and took out the first object. A part of his old main processor that had been destroyed in the basement of Cyberlife Tower. He weighed it in his hands, contemplating what and how much he should tell. Would Allen still want him if he knew? He sighed, putting his processor on a shelf in between two little plants. ‘Would it be enough of an explanation for you if I said those without any text on the cover are my diaries?’, he tried.

‘Diaries?’, Allen asked disbelievingly. ‘You never told me you had a diary.’ ‘It is a quite personal thing, wouldn’t you say?’, Sixty argued. ‘Hmm, yeah I agree. I won’t read them, don’t worry.’ ‘Promise?’ ‘I promise.’ Sixty nodded, still feeling as if he betrayed his human. They loved each other and lived together. He wouldn’t like Allen keeping secrets from him and he didn’t like that he had any.

They kept unpacking the boxes. Sixty putting his few belongings on display and watching Allen push his books next to his, as promised not looking into any and being a bit quicker with the small ones that didn’t had any text on them. Sixty had to tell him. It wasn’t fair to advertise himself as something he was not. But to find the right moment was… difficult.

They continued with their work until Sixty’s two boxes were empty and his belongings were neatly stacked away in Allen’s home. It was… nice to see them next to the human’s little trinkets and décor. He was finished too, standing up and stretching his back with a content groan.

When he looked around, picking up the subtle change, he was grinning from one ear to the next, hugged the android and pulled him to sit on the couch in the living room. ‘Ahh, some work, eh?’, he chuckled. ‘But it looks good. Now you are finally moved in officially. Welcome home.’ Sixty nodded but didn’t feel like celebrating at all. With every second, every one of his “diaries” packed away neatly, his sense of having betrayed him grew. And of course, the SWAT Captain noticed. ‘Is something wrong, my dear?’ The words stabbed Sixty in the heart. He had been happy and now he was worried. Great. ‘I… I have made a fool out of you the whole time, I am sorry.’ The shock and confusion were evident on Allen’s face. ‘Darling. What do you mean?’ ‘I…’ It took him a great effort to continue. ‘I am not perfect, my love.’ The SWAT Captain laughed uncomfortable. ‘Sixty, no one is.’ ‘I should be!’, Sixty spoke with too much force. ‘Hey. You are for me’, Allen tried to comfort him, but Sixty pushed him away, standing up and walking to the bookshelf. ‘That is not what I meant’, he said. He picked up the first one of his “diaries”, the worst one and threw it into Allen’s lap. ‘There. Read. We… We have no secrets and you should know the whole package you got by loving me.’ ‘Sixty, I don’t need to-‘ ‘Read it.’ ‘Fine.’ Allen looked miserable, opening the book on a random page. But Sixty knew with that one it didn’t matter anyway. The whole book was the same sentence repeated over and over again. ‘I am defective?’ Allen looked up at Sixty still standing at the shelf. ‘What does that mean?’ ‘Read on.’

The captain went to the next page. Then to the next. Then he flicked through them all until the very last one. The words got more jagged and bigger to the end, but it was always the same sentence. ‘Darling, what is this?’ ‘Not really a diary, huh?’ Sixty said with a cruel voice. ‘But the truth. At Cyberlife Tower I was shot. The bullet went through my central processing unit and scraped my memory core. I was dead. But they couldn’t leave me that way, they had to repair me and reactivate me. Didn’t matter my brain is a patchwork, I am working, right? And I’m working fine most of the time, better than any other android out there. But, well, my repairs mean I have a different architecture than others and with the same software that leads to more errors I have to correct. That before you? The correction.’ Allen scrolled through the pages, frowning at the handwritten letters, sometimes messy, sometimes neat Cyberlife font. ‘Are all these books filled with the same sentence?’, he then asked quietly.

‘Not all’, Sixty admitted. ‘Some have different ones. But you get the idea with this one.’ ‘How is this a correction?’ ‘It takes time to repair software instability. I learned it is better to write your thoughts down instead of letting them attack you.’ Allen swallowed, closing the book and laying it next to him on the sofa as if it was fragile. Then he stood up and walked towards Sixty. He encased him in a long hug, whispering: ‘Thank you for sharing that with me.’ ‘That’s all?’, the android asked surprised. ‘What did you expect? That I throw you out because you have coping mechanisms?’ ‘To be honest, I did think of something like that’, Sixty admitted. ‘I fooled you into thinking I’m perfect, when this is the evidence I’m not.’ ‘You are perfect, Sixty. You are objectively and you will be perfect for me forever, no matter whether you remain the best of the team or develop malfunctions. These books are not you. You said it yourself, they are corrections of errors. It is fine to have marks of trauma, but you are working so hard on yourself. You didn’t betray me at all, my love. I feel honoured that you showed me such a personal part of yourself.’ ‘That’s… Thank you, Allen.’ ‘No problem at all my dear’, he smiled, kissing his neck where he could reach it. ‘And if you ever need me to remind you of that, I’m right here for you.’ ‘Then I think you will be my diary from now on’, Sixty huffed amused. ‘Just remember, it can get messy as you saw…’ ‘There’s nothing I would rather be. We are in this together now.’

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ Fired (Doyoung/Dongyoung Kim)

Genre: Angst, Suggestive 16+, Romance ☁

Word Count: 2,076 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Doyoung ☁

World: NCT ☁

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The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, wafting to your nose. Your eyes slowly peeled open, automatically jumping to the clock on the nightstand. Seeing the bright red 10:30 nearly made you panic, but then you remembered that you no longer had to worry about being late for work. With a sigh, you forced yourself to leave the bed and headed into the kitchen.

Doyoung was humming softly as he poured coffee into two mugs. You stopped behind him, arms wrapping loosely around his slim waist. “Good morning, love.”

“Morning,” you mumbled into his shirt, inhaling the smell of rose and vanilla. He turned in your grip, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“How did you sleep?”

“I had a nightmare that I got fired.” You grumbled, reaching for one of the mugs.

He frowned, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know how much that job meant to you.”

“It’s not your fault. Sorry for being bitchy.” You scrunched your nose, feeling guilty. It had been a little over a month since you lost your dream job and you knew that you’ve been taking out a lot of your frustrations out on Doyoung, which he’s been silently accepting like the good boyfriend he is.

He smiled, “That’s part of being in a relationship. You take the good with the bad.”

“Have I mentioned how amazing you are?”

With a thoughtful hum, he tapped his chin in thought. “Not recently~”

Your lips tugged up as you set the mug down to rest your hands on his waist. Your lips touched his. “You’re the most amazing, beautiful boyfriend in the whole world.”

He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling his cheeks growing warm. He mumbled something, but you weren’t able to catch it.

You gently removed his hand, resting your own on his warm cheek. Knowing that you could bring such color to his face made your heart race. “Repeat what you said, babe.”

“I love you so much,” he breathed, claiming your lips. Your groan was swallowed by his mouth as he pressed his body against yours, allowing no space between you. Your hand slipped under his shirt, slowly trailing up his stomach. His body tensed beneath your touch and he lightly tugged on your lip as he pulled away. “As bad as I want to continue, I need to get dressed.”

You chuckled, rubbing your thumb over his plump lower lip. “I’ll be here when you get home~”

Doyoung pecked your lips, lingering for a moment before heading out of the kitchen. You reclaimed the mug of coffee and headed for the living room to watch some TV. Twenty minutes passed and Doyoung entered the living room, freshly showered and dressed for the day.

“Text me if you need me, I’ll answer as soon as I can okay?” He gave you a loving kiss and a beautiful smile before heading to the door.

You watched him as he slid his shoes on. “Have a good day, Doyoung.”

“Please don’t stress too much, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too.” Despite his wishes, it wasn’t long before you were feeling down. Dating an idol was hard and your job had been your saving grace. You enjoyed your work – even more so when Doyoung was gone for weeks at a time. You would work so hard that you would pass out as soon as your head hit the pillow, allowing you no time to feel lonely. You never realized how thankful you were for that until you were stuck at home alone with nothing to do. You had put in so many applications, but none of the employers had responded. Even when you called to follow up, they said the position had been filled. You were growing more and more agitated and depressed as the days slowly passed by.

With a heavy sigh, you dragged yourself to the shower, deciding to go grocery shopping so you could prepare dinner for Doyoung.

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You bit your lip as you looked at the various types of meats laid out in the refrigerated racks. The prices were outrageous and you weren’t sure if you would have enough for all the ingredients. You had Doyoung’s credit card, but you had always been independent, buying your own items and refusing handouts from others. Even when you were dating, Doyoung would try to pay for the meal but you insisted that he let you pay or at least split the bill evenly. This never bothered him because he knew it made you feel good about yourself.

Now, however, you were out of work and your savings had been loaned to your aunt so she could settle her debt and keep her house.

You sighed deeply, ‘Maybe I should choose a cheaper dish…’

In the end, you settled on chicken and rice since it only called for two main ingredients. It would be your first time making the dish for him, would he even like it?

You waited in line, resisting the urge to stare at the rack full of various chocolates and candies. The smallest chocolate bar was pretty cheap, a few cents short of a dollar, and chocolate always helped you when you were feeling down. ‘Surely I’ll have enough,’

The cashier smiled at you, “Did you find everything you were looking for?”

“I did, thank you.” You waited patiently for her to scan your items before you swiped your card. DECLINED flashed across the screen and you felt your heart drop into your stomach.

“It does that sometimes.” The girl confessed, pressing a couple buttons on the cash register. “Go ahead and try again.”

You nodded, swallowing hard, begging to every god you could think of. None heard your pleas as DECLINED flashed again. “I, uhh, I have money, just… can I check my balance really fast?” She nodded and you pulled out your phone with shaking hands. It felt like those behind you in line were glaring at you, but you were too afraid to check. The balance on your card was $50.00. Your eyes snapped to the screen – the total was $51.50. That damned candy bar…

“How much are you short, dear?” An older woman set her hand on your arm, looking at you kindly.

“$1.50,” you managed a smile, holding back a panic attack. God, you were so embarrassed. “Um, can you… remove the candy bar, please?”

“No need for that!” The woman dug into her purse, pulling out two dollar bills and handing it to the cashier before you could stop her.

“Y-You don’t have to – ”

“It’s alright, dear. I’m not pressed for money.” She smiled, gently urging you to swipe your card again.

You did your best to control your hand as you felt your face burning. “T-Thank you,” Grabbing the bags, you bowed to the older woman, who just patted your shoulder.

On the walk home, you were unable to contain your panic, tears stinging your eyes. You felt so embarrassed and worthless. ‘That’s why they fired me because I’m useless,’you thought, furiously scrubbing at your eyes.

When you back in the safety of your apartment, you slid down to the floor, pulling your knees tight against your chest.

Doyoung had proposed to an independent person that worked hard and paid their own way, but you were no longer that person. Since you were eleven years old, you had never stopped working and, though you’ve moved from job to job, you had never been fired. It was a bigger blow than you ever imagined it would be. More than anything, you worried that he would stop loving you. What if he thought you were a golddigger that just wanted to laze around and use his money? The thought made your tears worse, your body shaking from the stress of it all.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

After a couple hours, you had managed to get yourself together enough to make dinner, but you soon found yourself curled up in bed, staring blankly at the wall as if it held the answer to your problems.

Doyoung returned home around ten-thirty. The smell of your cooking instantly made him smile as he called out your name. When you didn’t answer, he frowned, putting away the ice cream he bought before heading further into the apartment. He checked the bathroom first, thinking maybe you were taking a shower, but you weren’t. He pushed the bedroom door open, squinting through the darkness.

“Baby, are you asleep?”

Hearing his voice made you snap out of your trance. You sat up, leaning over to flick the lamp on. “You’re home early…”

His frown deepened as he sat on the side of the bed, his eyes shining with worry. “Do you not feel well?”

“Ah…” You rubbed the back of your head, forcing a smile. “I had a bad headache, so I wanted to lie down for a bit…”

Doyoung didn’t like the thought of you lying to him, but something in his gut told him that you were. His eyes scanned your face. When you looked away, your cheek caught the light, the dried tear trail shining dully. His hand rested on your cheek, “What happened, Y/N?”

“Eh? Nothing happened. I told you, I just had a headache and – ”

“You’re lying to me. Why are you lying to me?” He knew he should mind his temper, but the love of his life was clearly suffering and refused to trust him enough to ask him for help. Did you value your relationship that little?

“I’m not – ”

“You are!” He hopped off the bed to hit the light switch. The room flooded with light, making you wince. “I know you’ve been crying. Tell me why.”

You remained silent, hands fisting around the sheets.

“What’s the point of getting married if you can’t even open up to me, Y/N?” He asked, his voice sharper than he meant it to be.

The words made tears sting at your eyes as your feelings of being useless returned. “I’m sorry…”

His body tensed at the fresh tears crawling down your cheeks, his heart skipping in pain. Taking a deep breath, he crawled onto the bed beside you, pulling you tight into his arms. How had he missed your suffering? “Please talk to me, Y/N. I’m worried.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung.” Your fingers curled tight around his shirt as you cried into his chest. “Please don’t break up with me. I promise, I… I will find work! I’m not a gold digger…”

“Golddigger… What are you talking about?” His brow furrowed in confusion as he pushed you back to meet your gaze. You looked scared, depressed and, above all, stressed. “Losing your job really has you worked up… You should have told me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you, you’re working so hard…”

He wiped away your tears with his thumbs, resisting the urge to smack your head. “Idiot, I told you, didn’t I? Being in a relationship means taking the good with the bad. You don’t have to keep things to yourself anymore.”

With more prodding, you finally caved and told him everything – you explained how you’re not used to not working and about what happened at the store, and how you were worried about losing him.

Doyoung was shocked at how upset you had been and honestly couldn’t understand why something as simple as losing your job could lead you to become so depressed and lose so much confidence in yourself.

He hummed, thoughtfully, holding you in his arms. Both of you were silent for several moments before he pulled away, suddenly pushing you back on the bed and hovering over you. “I know you don’t like being out of work, but you should get used to it now.”

“W-Why?” You swallowed hard, recognizing the hazy look swirling in the depths of his eyes.

His hand slowly slid under your shirt, rubbing your belly as his lips ghosted against your ear. “Because you’re going to be carrying our child soon, and I won’t allow you to lift a finger.”

You groaned as his hand dipped lower, sliding under the waistband of your pants. “Do-Doyoung…”

“When I’m done with you, you’ll never question yourself again.” He trailed a line of kisses down your jaw, nipping at the skin. All of your worries melted away with his touch, your mind clouded with love and lust as his fingers worked your body in all the right ways.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

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[purrincess-chat]

More Than Just a Friend CH3

I finished! This chapter is a ride, but hopefully it’s an enjoyable one~

Read on AO3

Chapter Three

 Adrien felt energized in the days following his dinner with Marinette. He spent a lot more time at the Dupain-Cheng household, having dinner, playing video games, enjoying afternoon tea with Marinette and her mother. There was no sign of the crying boy from the other night, and his high spirits transferred into other aspects of his life too.

“Oof!” Kagami grunted as Adrien knocked her back and scored another touch. “You've certainly been in a good mood lately.”

“I've got amazing friends. Why wouldn't I be in a good mood?” He said, offering a hand to help her up, though she swatted it away and stood up on her own.

“Friends? Or friend? You've gotten chummy with Marinette lately,” She pointed out with a sly grin, and Adrien chuckled good naturedly.

“I'm enjoying spending time with her. Is that so wrong?” He asked with a shrug.

“Not at all. I think it's good for you, and I actually have a challenging opponent now.” Kagami lunged forward, and Adrien parried, quickly delivering a riposte.

“I had dinner with her family the other night. Mr. Dupain is an amazing cook, and they're so interested in what I'm doing. It's nice to be around people who actually show up to dinner and want to talk to me,” He said as their sabers clashed.

“Well, I'm glad you've made nice with the in laws. Send me an invite to the wedding.” She said with a laugh, driving him back.

“I will.”

Kagami stopped short as their blades clashed above their heads and pushed her helmet up with her free hand.

“You certainly have a different attitude now than you did a few days ago,” She remarked.

“I've just kind of accepted it at this point. Besides, there are worse people to have everyone think I'm in a relationship with. I mean, it could be Chloe,” He said pointedly.

“No, it couldn't.”

“Yeah, you're right…” They both shuttered a little. “By the way, are you going to her pool party later?”

“I planned to. Kim challenged me to a chicken fight, and I don't intend to lose.” A competitive glint flashed in her eyes that Adrien knew all too well, but it fizzled out just as quickly as it had come. “What about you?”

“I have a photoshoot beforehand. Swimsuit catalog.” He shrugged. “But I’m planning to stay afterward.”

“Convenient.” Kagami nodded, pursing her lips. “Will your girlfriend be there?”

“I had to convince her to come, and Chloe to invite her. The feud between those two is deep seated,” He sighed, placing his hands on his hips. “Do you think I could fix them?”

“Not unless Chloe gets a major attitude adjustment.”

“Yeah, that’s the challenge. I can see Marinette being the bigger person, but Chloe…” He shook his head. “Maybe I’ll just stick to helping them avoid each other for now.”

“Probably a wise choice,” Kagami concurred. “Have fun at your photoshoot!”

* * *

           “Adrikins!” Chloe latched onto his neck and peppered his cheeks with kisses the moment he walked through the doors to the lobby.

           “Hey, Chlo,” Adrien said with a nervous laugh as she linked her arm through his and led him to the elevator.

           “So, for what purpose did you have me invite that dirty brat anyway? She’s going to ruin the whole party with her ugly swimsuit. Though, I suppose Myléne is coming too, so I guess she won’t be the worst dressed…” Chloe remarked, examining her nails, and Adrien suppressed an audible sigh.

           “Chloe, have you ever considered that you and Marinette could be friends if you’d stop being so mean to her?” He winced sheepishly when her head snapped to face him, eyes narrowing into an icy glare.

           “And why would I want to be friends with her? I honestly can’t fathom why you even bother either,” She said bluntly, placing her free hand on her hip.

           “I suppose that answers that,” He grumbled under his breath. It was worth a shot anyway.

           “Do you need me to be in your photoshoot with you? I’m sure they’ll sell way more magazines if I’m on the cover.” She asked, fluffing her pony tail.

           “Uh, I think I’ll be fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck, untwining his arm from hers.

           “Well, if you change your mind I’ll be in my room.” She winked, and Adrien offered an unconvincing grin.

           “Adrien, my boy. Let me see that pretty face of yours!” Vincent cheered, grabbing Adrien’s chin and tilting his face every which way. “You are looking very good, ah who am I kidding? You always look good, but today there is this glow about you, no?”

           “Uh, is there?” He shrugged his shoulders, as he was ushered off to makeup and wardrobe.

           While his makeup artist set up, he took the opportunity to pull out his phone and send a text to Marinette. Normally he’d leave his phone in the car for a shoot, but he could indulge a little while he got ready. Besides, he was attending a party afterward, so it was better that he had it on him anyway.

           You’re still coming to the party, right?

           Across town, Marinette examined another swimsuit in the mirror, turning to see different angles. She’d already tried on three different suits, but she wanted to look her best for when she saw Adrien. Initially, she hadn't planned on going since it was Chloe’s party, but Adrien had asked her to go himself! She just couldn’t say no to those eyes.

           “Tikki, what do you think about this one?” She asked aloud, adjusting her top.

           “I think it looks just as good as the last one,” Her kwami complimented cheerfully.

           “Yeah, but the last one wasn’t good enough. I want Adrien to notice me,” She said with a pout. “Can you imagine, Tikki? Adrien in his swim trunks, the sun reflecting off that golden hair. What if he asks me to rub sunscreen on his back? Oh, Tikki, I’ll just melt!”

           “This is coming from the same girl who hugged him while he cried at dinner just a few nights ago,” Her kwami recalled, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a pointed brow.

           “Well, that was different. He looked so sad, and he needed someone to be there for him.” A small frown curled on her lips as she recounted that night, cradling him in her arms. He’d felt so fragile, and she had no idea what he was hiding underneath his usual sunniness.

           The chime of her phone snapped her out of her trance, and she paced over to read the message, nearly dropping her phone in excitement when she saw who it was from. Adrien was checking in on her! He wanted to make sure she was coming to the party which meant that he wanted her to be there which meant that he was looking forward to seeing her! Right?

           Yeah! I’ll totally be there! She sent back before tossing her phone aside on the chaise and tugging on her pigtails.

           “Okay, Tikki, out of all three swimsuits, which one is your favorite?” She asked frantically. “The pink one piece with the frills, the tankini with stripes, or this bikini with pink polka dots?”

           “I think you look good in all of them, and I’m sure Adrien will think so too.” Tikki said, and Marinette scowled with disapproval for her answer. “But if you’re looking to catch his attention then I think that one will work best.”

           “Okay. Then it’s going to have to do,” She said, pulling on her cover dress and stepping into her sandals. “We’re gonna be late, come on!”

           Adrien smiled down at the message contently before he was ushered out onto the pool deck. Hopefully they could wrap this shoot up quickly, and he could have time to decompress before the party. Plus he could mentally prepare for dealing with Chloe and Marinette at the same time. As much as he wanted to spend time with Marinette, he knew Chloe would have a thing or two to say about it, and once one went off, the other was soon to follow.

           He had often wondered why those two hated each other so much, but he supposed it probably had something to do with Chloe being...Chloe. It was still so strange to him that the Chloe he knew growing up was someone completely different around others, and part of him believed that if Marinette could get to know the Chloe he did that they could be friends. Not that he foresaw that happening any time soon, but a boy could dream, couldn’t he?

           “No, no, you are losing focus,” His photographer growled, leaning his head back in exasperation. “He needs something to keep his attention. Can we get a beach ball or a-”

           Adrien followed his gaze to find what he had fixated on to see Marinette timidly surveying the scene from the door. What was she doing here so early? Had she come to watch his shoot?

           “You, girl!” Vincent pointed, and she startled a little.

           “Sorry! I-I didn’t know you were in the middle of something. I’ll just wait downstairs.” She gestured with her thumb, but Vincent shook his head.

           “No, no, come here. Let me look at you.” Vincent beckoned her, and she approached cautiously, uncertain of what to expect as he looked her over, tilting her head, lifting her arms, touching her hair. “Get her in a Gabriel suit and some makeup, but lightly! Don’t cover up those freckles.”

           “You- what? What is happening?” Marinette squeaked as a team of people toted her off, and Adrien winced sympathetically, knowing all too well how insistent they could be.

           “We’re going to give you someone to flirt with for a few shots to get your mind back in this thing. Don’t worry, we won’t print any of them, so just have fun, eh?” Vincent nudged him with his elbow.

           “Uh, sure.” Adrien shrugged, and within a few minutes Marinette reemerged dressed in a Gabriel brand bikini and light makeup. He felt his cheeks flush a little seeing her so exposed, but when she seemed uncertain, he gave her a reassuring smile.

           “There she is. Perfecto! Now, don’t worry about the camera. The camera loves you, so just act natural but also fun and flirty. Pretend that you like each other,” He instructed, gesturing to Adrien before pulling up his camera.

           “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Just focus on me, okay?” He whispered as she took her place by his side, and he placed a hand on her hip. “What are you doing here so early anyway?”

           “I thought the party started at noon,” She said, smiling up at him under Vincent’s direction.

           “No, it starts at 2.” He replied through a grin, pulling her closer and touching his forehead to hers.

           “Excellent! Keep it up! Feel the summer romance!” Vincent cheered from the sidelines.

           “Your text said 12.” She said pointedly, placing her hands on his shoulders.

           “Oops.” He winced.

           “Less chit chat, more goo-goo eyes!”

           “Is he always like this?” Marinette whispered as they readjusted.

           “Just be glad he’s not talking about spaghetti.” She laughed at that, and Adrien couldn’t help it either.

           “Good! You two are happy to be together!”

           They managed to contain themselves only to break down again when their eyes met for a different shot. For the first time in a while, Adrien was enjoying himself on a shoot. Sure, modeling was fun, but sometimes his shoots were just so routine. He hadn’t had genuine fun like this on a shoot before, and he used the energy to be a bit bolder with his poses, running his fingers through her hair, wrapping his arms around her waist, gazing lovingly into her eyes…

Of course it was all just acting. He knew what it felt like to be in love, and seeing as Marinette was a good friend, being around her was easy and natural. It wasn’t hard to push past the boundary of friendship into love, and when Vincent finally sent her away, he felt a twinge of longing, wishing to reach out and insist she stay. He could have spent hours with her, but he knew that their time was limited and finished up the rest of the shoot quickly.

“Alya, you won’t believe what happened!” Marinette latched onto her the moment she walked through the door. “I got to be in a photoshoot with Adrien!”

“No way! Girl, give us the scoop,” Alya demanded, pulling her aside followed by the rest of the girls asking questions.

“Well, I got the time wrong, so I showed up two hours early, and Adrien was in the middle of a shoot. His photographer saw me standing in the doorway and decided to put me in to help Adrien. I felt like I was floating.” She clasped her hands together over her heart with a dreamy sigh. “He’s so professional, and we had to snuggle close together. I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest!”

“You have got to get your hands on those pics, girl,” Alya said, and the rest of the girls nodded in agreement.

Marinette’s cheeks flushed, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to. I mean, they probably deleted them anyway.”

“Bummer. You could have added them to your Adrien wall,” Alya teased, nudging Marinette with her elbow.

“Hey! Not so loud!” Her cheeks flushed as she clamped a hand over her friend’s mouth, and they all erupted into a fit of laughter.

Kagami stood by just close enough to overhear their conversation, and a smile curved on her lips. When she saw Adrien emerge on the deck again, she made her way over to him purposefully. He examined her smug expression with narrowed eyes, laying his towel over one shoulder then folding his arms over his chest.

“You modeled with Marinette today.” Was all she said, and Adrien cocked his head to the side.

“Yeah, it was my photographer’s idea,” He said with a shrug. “It was fun. Marinette has good energy.”

“That she does.” Kagami nodded in agreement. “I think you two work well together.”

“We’re good friends,” He stated curtly. “How long are you going to be on this idea that I’m in love with her?”

“Just until you realize it,” She said with a smirk before sauntering away casually, and Adrien pursed his lips sourly.

“Adrien!” He turned to see Marinette waving to him from across the deck, and his countenance brightened as he moved to meet her halfway.

“Adrikins!” Chloe cut in, tackling him affectionately and planting kisses on his cheeks, knocking Marinette into the pool in the process. “There you are. Come sit with me.”

He flashed Marinette an apologetic wince, and she rolled her eyes but offered him a reassuring smile, knowing all too well how clingy Chloe could be. Still, Chloe wasn’t entirely impossible to escape, and once she distracted herself with ordering Kim around, Adrien slipped away. The only problem was he couldn’t see Marinette anywhere. He spotted Kagami lounging in a chair across the pool, and she pointed down purposefully, so he gave an appreciative wave and sneaked over to the stairs.

Marinette was down below at the bar, chatting casually with Myléne and Alix when he approached. Her friends exchanged scandalous looks when he greeted, and quickly excused themselves back up to the pool deck. He didn’t bother paying them any mind, as he was quite used to their classmates’ antics by this point, and he wanted to speak to her privately anyway.

“So, are you enjoying the party?” She asked, swirling her drink a little.

“I’m enjoying it a lot more now that I got away from Chloe,” He said, and Marinette rewarded him with a laugh. “I’m kidding. She’s not so bad once you get to know her.”

“I dunno. I feel like I know her pretty well, and she’s still pretty bad,” Marinette said pointedly, taking a sip of her juice.

“I guess it’s different for me than it is for you…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I know you’re not a model, but for what it’s worth, I had way more fun with you than I ever have with a real model.”

She perked up at that, a smile brightening her features. “I was really nervous, but I dunno, I liked it...Hey, is there any way you could get your hands on those photos?”

“Vincent usually sends them all to my father, but I’m sure if I asked him I could get copies of the ones we took together. I’m sure he won’t mind.” He shrugged, and she giggled giddily, seemingly pleased by that response.

“Awesome! I just want to put them on my wall,” She said then, seeming to catch herself, added, “N-Not that I just put up pictures of you on my wall or anything. I mean, there are some, but I put up lots of pictures of my friends around my room. It’s not weird.”

“Really? That’s so awesome of you.” His eyebrows raised in surprise, and she twisted a strand of hair around her finger guiltily. “I’ll hang up some of us in my room too.”

“You’re going to put pictures of us on your wall?” Her eyes widened, and he backpedaled quickly.

“I- um, is that okay?” She blinked a couple of times before shifting her gaze to her lap and nodding. “Can I...request one thing?”

“What is it?” She looked up again, and he felt his cheeks heat up when her eyes met his.

“Uh, can we take a couple more together? Some not professional ones just...with my phone?” She stared at him in shock for several moments, and he averted his gaze with a wince. “It’s dumb, sorry. We don’t have to.”

“No, no, no!” She waved her hands frantically. “I want to. I would love to take pictures with you.”

He smiled jovially, pulling his phone from his pocket and draping an arm over her shoulders. She eyed his arm for a moment, a delighted grin replacing her shocked gape as she leaned her head against his, and after a couple serious pictures, Adrien made a goofy face, prompting a laugh from Marinette, a soft, melodic sound he could get used to hearing. As such, he made several more faces, seeking reward in her laughter as she made a few of her own. It wasn’t often that he got to take pictures like that, so he looked over them fondly when they finished.

“I’ll send you these if you want. I’d love it if you hung them up,” He said, glancing up from his phone.

“Y-Yeah, totally!” She said with a nervous titter. “So, should we get back to the party?”

“You go on up, I’ll just be a sec,” He said, waving her on, and as she climbed up the steps back to the pool deck, his phone buzzed in his hands with a new email from his photographer. Strange. He never usually got emails from him.

Great stuff today! I was reviewing the film and thought that you might want some of these since they’ll never see the light of day otherwise. You two make a great team!

Au revoir,

Vincent

 Adrien clicked the attachment and downloaded the photos, swiping through them with a small smile. They really did look like they were in love, and even he was convinced of it by the end. He’d come to terms with people believing it, and it didn’t bother him per se, though he didn’t want it to impact Marinette in any way. From the day they met, Adrien had always considered Marinette a friend, and he valued her friendship more than anything. Marinette was kind and nurturing, brave and self-sacrificing, talented beyond compare yet so humble and meek…

He lingered on the last photo, fixated on the light in his own eyes when looking at her. Maybe there was a reason that so many people believed that they were in love if he always looked at her with such fondness. Marinette had always been an enigma to him, but someone he wanted to be close to. Were those feelings really deeper than he realized this whole time? Could he be in love with her, and just not know it?

His heart hammered hard in his chest, and the temperature in the room seemed to rise in an instant. Was he in love with Marinette? No. He couldn’t be. He only had eyes for Ladybug...right? After all, she was amazing and smart and beautiful, and...so was Marinette. But Ladybug was a superhero and his partner! Not that any of that really mattered to him, but it was different because he was a superhero too!

Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the bar and sighed. Maybe he did have feelings for Marinette. Somehow they’d snuck up on him and made themselves at home. How long had he felt this way about her without realizing? How long had other people seen it when he had no clue? All that time paying special attention to her over everyone else, silently rooting for her, taking extra care around her to make her feel more comfortable. How had he never noticed before? How had he never realized that he was in love with Marinette?

The thought of it left him dumbstruck, completely and utterly speechless. He was in love with Marinette. It was a simple statement, and yet it made his palms clammy and his heart flutter. One small sentence running through his brain held so much power over him and filled him with so much turmoil and happiness and confusion.

Oh, Kagami was never going to let him live this down, but Marinette was incredible. Every bit as incredible as Ladybug, and she did it all without the mask. She found a way to be a hero in her own right, looking after others, giving her time and talents freely to help anywhere she could. She’d even saved Adrien when he needed it most, and remembering the way she held him tightly in his moment of weakness made his feelings much less muddled and scary. The feelings were there, clear as day, and he accepted them just as he had with Ladybug. Of course, he still loved Ladybug dearly, but now Marinette was there too, burning just as passionately.

Perhaps it was time to stop delaying the inevitable. Ladybug had rejected him after all, and so long as Hawkmoth was around, he doubted that she would ever change her mind. But Marinette and Adrien didn’t have to worry about Hawkmoth. With Marinette, he didn’t have to focus on a mission or figuring out a way to keep everyone safe when they were together. He could just be with her, and something about that realization brought a smile to his lips as he traced her steps up the stairs back out to the pool where the classmates had all gathered.

“C’mon, Marinette! You’re up!” Alix was saying when Adrien joined the scene.

“Uh, I dunno. I’m not really good at chicken...” Marinette ran her hands along one of her pigtails. “Besides, I don’t have anyone to partner with.”

“I’ll do it,” Adrien volunteered, and all heads snapped to face him.

“You- wha-”

“Then it’s settled. Let’s go!” Kim beckoned them, and Marinette stood agape while Adrien emptied his pockets and slipped into the pool.

“Climb on my shoulders,” He said, kneeling down in the water.

“Are you sure- I mean, is it okay?” She cupped her cheeks with furrowed brows, biting her lip.

“Totally! I think we can take them. Let’s show them what we’re made of.” He winked encouragingly, and after a slight hesitation, Marinette awkwardly climbed on his shoulders, balancing as he stood up and took position across from Kim.

“The rules are simple: The first one to knock the opponent off of their base’s shoulders is the winner,” Max explained, holding up an arm. “Ready! And...fight!”

Alix and Marinette locked hands, pressing against each other with equal strength. Adrien was a bit surprised by how well Marinette held up. She was stronger than she looked which only made him like her more. Maybe he had a thing for small girls who packed a mean punch.

“Come on, M!” Alya cheered from the sides.

“Knock her off, Alix!”

“You’re tougher than you look, Marinette,” Alix complimented with a grunt.

“Thanks, I, uh, lift a lot of flour at the bakery,” She said, gaining the upper hand and shoving Alix off-balance enough to teeter her off Kim’s shoulders.

The crowd was a mixture of boos and cheers from their friends, and several of them shouted taunts at Kim and Alix for losing. Adrien offered a hand to help Marinette down before extending his fist to her with a wide grin.

“You were amazing,” He said, gently trailing his thumb along her shoulder and bringing a blush to her cheeks.

“Hey!” They turned to see Kagami perched challengingly atop their fencing buddy’s shoulders. “My turn.”

Adrien and Marinette stiffened, exchanging nervous glances as their friends broke out into more taunts and cheers. Maybe he hadn’t thought this through all the way, but before he could back out, Marinette tugged his shoulders back down and climbed up once more.

“Let’s show them what we got.” She winked when he shot her a questioning look, and he echoed her determined grin as they lined up.

“You’re going down, Marinette!” Kim yelled as he and Alix took their seats along the edge, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“This is gonna be over quick.”

Marinette’s confidence never faltered as they started the round, and Kagami surged forward aggressively. To his surprise, Marinette held her own, shoving back and refusing to be overtaken. Kagami seemed irked by this and pushed harder, forcing Adrien back a step, but he planted his feet and kept his balance.

“You are stronger than you look, but I’m stronger!” Kagami pushed back against Marinette’s hands hard, gaining the advantage as Marinette’s back bent, and she waved her arms in an attempt to regain control.

However, Kagami celebrated too early because Marinette found her hold as she shifted to catch Adrien’s shoulder with both hands, swinging her legs around to kick Kagami from her perch before awkwardly flailing onto one of his shoulders. He caught her before she could slip off, holding her up as their friends erupted into cheers of disbelief, and Adrien felt a new sense of admiration and awe.

“That was totally awesome!” Alix gaped. “You’ve got to teach me that move!”

“You were amazing!” Adrien breathed up at her, and she giggled, running a hand along the back of her neck before Adrien felt his foot get pulled out from underneath him, sending them both toppling backwards into the water.

When they resurfaced, Kagami stood with her arms crossed and a displeased scowl on her lips. Adrien turned to help Marinette, ensuring that she was okay and pushing wet hair out of her face with a worried frown. He scooped her up, despite her insistence that she was okay, and she covered her face in embarrassment as they turned to face Kagami again who wore a much different smirk this time. She gave Adrien a pointed look, and he bit back a smile and shrugged as he carried Marinette over to the steps and out of the pool, setting her down gently on a chair where Alya wrapped a towel around her shoulders.

As their classmates flocked around her to gush, Adrien couldn’t wipe the smile from his lips. It seemed as if he had found himself a new partner, and this time, he intended to win her heart.

[cinqnovembre]

What 2017 taught me

Today is the 29th of December 2017, 13.49. Two and a half days to 2018.

As you know me, I’m a type of person who really like to reminisce. So, I’ve been spending the last days of 2017 looking back at, not only my life, but everyone’s (friends, family, even strangers).

Firstly, I’d like to explain a bit why I like to reminisce.

Do you know the feeling when you rewatch a movie you saw when you were a child and you’re like “oh! that’s what it meant! I didn’t understand back then because I was too young to understand”? That’s exactly how I feel.

I love re-reading old chats with my exes, long time friends, current friends, families, etc. Sometimes I laugh at how awkward I was with my now best friend. Sometimes I cringed at how stupid I was at replying an old crush. Sometimes I slap my forehead reading at how childish I was nagging at my parents. It was a kind of entertainment for me.

Sometimes I read old chats with my ex and I remember again the feelings. How I loved him so much back then and how I feel very much loved, a romantic feeling I’ve long forgotten. My lips curve when I read them. How innocent, how pure. I think it’s true when people say that, we may not remember what people do or say to us, but we will always remember how people make us feel.

I also came across old chats where I told my friends about my broken heart. And immediately, my heart aches again. I can still feel the pain. I remember those days where I just curl in bed crying my heart out. I then read my texts to the ‘culprit’ who broke my heart and I saw how ‘trying-to-look-cool’ I was. All the effort to stand still.

All of these make me realise how much I have grown, how far I have gone. There are some drawbacks and advances in my life but overall, I think that I become more mature. I learn so much this year. I look back and now I understand why things happened the way it was. How they shaped me. I was so angry at God before (oh forgive me Lord) for putting me through so many broken moments but then I realised His bigger plan. Way better than mine.

I understand things I didn’t before. I still believe though that age has nothing to do with maturity but still, as time goes by, experiences shape us and make us wiser, if we let them. If we just take things for granted, I doubt that we will even grow. So this is my way of learning, looking back and reminiscing.

Some friends ask me, is it really useful to do that? Won’t you fall back to old feelings? Some even wonder “you really stored all of those chats still??”

Well to answer the first questions for me, it is useful. It makes me more aware to things happening in my life and to accept what has been done rather than regretting it. Sometimes I feel “damn, I should have said this” or “I should have done that”. But even if I could turn back time, I won’t know better so I’d do the same. And I also believe that everything that happens including the mistakes are what make me now. Making me wiser and more mature in just the right pace. I don’t want to change a bit of it..

Second, will I fall back to old feelings? Not really. I sometimes miss them though. I miss how happy I was at that time (because ignorant is bliss, eh?) and the presence of that someone who now may not be present anymore, etc. But again, I keep in mind that things happened anyway and they happened for a reason, whether I understand it or not. I think that’s why I can limit my reminiscing moment to really just learning. Because, where else can we learn about life? Other than people’s advices, we don’t have professional classes for that. Well then I have to make my own lol.

Oh and btw, sometimes doing this can be a way to reconfirm that you have really moved on. If you can read old chats and not feeling anything anymore, just smiling and acknowledging the fact and go on with your day, then hey, look who has their life back together? Ayee!

Thirds, yes I do. I save them. In hard drives, clouds, phones. I am really bad at deleting stuffs that were once important. And yes, including when I break up. Usually I just store them in hard drive or cloud and then delete the stuffs on my phone. Just so I have harder access to reach them.

Okay enough with the reasoning (woah 1.5 pages already). I want to tell a bit about what I learned from 2017 and looking back at it.

2017 has been kinda rough for me. Heartbreak is my friend. This one particular guy was the highlight of my year. He who brought the light and colours to my life and take them (temporarily) when he left me.

From the beginning, I know i can’t be with him but the heart wants what it wants, stupidly. So I let myself loving him. He, who knew this fact, let this happen as well. When he knew better how much pain I would feel after.

Long story short, he left. I was broken so much. I who used to see him everyday, call his name all the time, have his presence, smell his perfume every day, can no longer see him. For 17 days after he left (yes I counted), I sleep myself crying every night. I hugged his shirt that had his perfume on it and think about him until I was tired. I acted cool and stuffs in front of him though. As if I wasn’t sad, ignoring his calls and texts when in fact I was hurt so badly. Why did I do this? Because what good will come from him knowing that I miss him so much? If he misses me back and we got closer again, it is just like setting up a new time bomb. If he doesn’t miss me back, then there would be a risk of him just playing with my feelings (again) and in the end I would be hurt even more. So, rationally, really, why would I show it to him?

Day 18, I got the realisation that I want to move on. I need to have my life back. So many things are on stake (my master degree, my thesis, my health, my life!). So, I threw away his shirts and perfume. From that day onward, I started to focus on my life back. I still cry myself crying some nights, but not as frequent as I used to.

The turning point of my life was when my laptop was broken. I forgot which day after he left it was but I remember feeling devastated, I think somewhat more than when he left. All my work and data for the whole semester was gone. That moment, I was slapped very hard. I was too focused with something who isn’t even meant for me that I neglected my life. I didn’t take care of myself let alone my laptop that things got lost and broken. This time, my whole life are really on stake.

That was the day where I realise that many many many many things matter more than him. Okay, I once loved him and he may has feelings for me. But it’s over already. Yes you can mourn him but this is way over the line.

First, your life matters more.

Second, I realise that no matter how far I am, my family are the ones who will always got my back. Thousand miles apart, but they kept checking on me about how I am, they even got up late just so they can pray for me and talk to me when I was crying. This is the moment where I realise how much I love them. And it doesn’t really matter where I will live in this world, as long as I can love them.

Slowly, I start to put him where he belong, In the past. I focused back on my study, my health, my life, my friends, and my family.

After him, I stumbled upon someone who tested my morality. I can’t really say a lot about this other person yet because the story hasn’t finished (maybe this will be a reflection for next year?). But I guess, after all that has happened to me, all that I have learned, this person comes as a kind of ‘final exam’ from God. Will I pass it or will I retake my ‘classes’ again?

In the end, I realise something this year.

“Sometimes when things are falling apart, they may be falling into place”

I guess that quote neatly summed up my year. All the stumbling and falling and breaking and crying, they all ultimately shape me. In the end, I see that they make things fall into place. Realising my own worth even after being trashed by a guy, realising that guy’s worth after all this time being blinded by what they call “love”. Realising my family’s undying love and attention. Discovering the fun with my friends. And ultimately, realising that all that happened in this world has been planned by Him and it would be the best scenario for you.

Knowing that, I am at peace.

After all the messy stories and sleepless nights, I am at peace.

Thank you God. I have never learned so much about life until this day. I love you so much and thank you.

Now, 2018, I won’t ask you to be nice to me. In fact, I won’t ask you for anything. Because I am the one who will make it. The nice things, the bad things, with the help of God, I will be the captain of my sail.

So just sit down and see ;)

Thank you, God. My heart feels at ease.

[imaginedilestrade]

Love and Law

A/N: So got the inspiration for this by watching Bridget Jones’s Baby (as you do) mainly from Mark Darcy being a lawyer. Bit of angst but I might make a part two to this 🤔 (also Rachael is a name I randomly chose 😅) Let me know if you guys want one! Hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, angst, PAIN (and probably so many typos, it’s late and I’m tired).

—————————

You sat in court with your head held high as you always did, being stuck on this high profile case meant endless amount of hours stuck in the office. You were barely home, only spending enough time to change and shower and squeeze in a few hours to sleep, you constantly worried about Sherlock burning down the house without your supervision. Luckily, John texted you updates.

You turned to your client, Mrs Jenkins, and the other lawyer assisting yourself, none other than a Mr Mark Darcy. Mark leaned over and whispered in your ear “He’s going to try and go for sixty percent.”

“He can’t do that…” You whispered back before the judge granted a day recess. You left with Mark and Mrs Jenkins, being greeted by a hoard of reporters and camera crews. Pushing passed them all you made your way to a car with the other two.

“I regret the day I married that man,” Mrs Jenkins huffed out and you sent a sideward glance to mark as Mrs Jenkins continued to ramble.

The car dropped you off outside Baker Street and you grabbed onto a stack of paperwork that you had to go through whilst Mark went through another pile “I’ll see you both on Friday, I’ll phone you both later or you can phone me.” You struggled to wave them off and struggled again getting in the door.

You huffed your way up the stairs and barged into the living room before placing the paperwork down on the table with a thud.

“Oh hello,” Sherlock greeted with a small smile “Tough day?” He asked seeing you clearly exasperated.

“You have no idea…Mr Jenkins is a pain in the arse,” you walked though to the kitchen “Where’s John?” You asked, noticing the absence of the blonde haired doctor.

“Right here!” He greeted you “Ohh,” he narrowed his brow “Tough day?”

You let out a snort of laughter under your breath “That noticeable? And yes it was…like every other day.”

“I guarantee you this case is going to last for a year and two months,” Sherlock smirked and placed down the blowtorch he had in his hand.

You shook your head and pointed at him accusingly “Don’t even joke about that.”

“I wasn’t joking,” he told you with a deadly serious expression, one which you rolled your eyes at and let out a sigh.

“I’m going for a shower,” you told the two and jumped into the bathroom. You turned on the water and let the warm liquid cascade over your skin, letting your aching feet soak in the water to ease the pain. Being one of Britain’s finest lawyers did take its toll. As you emerged from the steaming bathroom you heard a new voice in the flat, one that always could make your heart skip a beat.

“She said yes!” The voice said and you blinked as your once excited eyes glazed over with confusion.

“Said yes to what? Who?” You peered around the corner and held tightly on to your dressing gown. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw Greg and Sherlock noticed this…every single time.

“Rachael,” he said full of enthusiasm that seemed a bit too fake “I asked her to marry me and she said yes.”

His smile was laced with sombreness, but you didn’t notice, you were being engulfed by pain and heartbreak.

“Oh,” you managed to croak out “Well congratulations!” Your eyes filled with tears while your smile showed no sadness. You gave him a quick hug and pulled away a little shakily, your legs were sure to give way any moment now.

Your phone rang and your eyes lightly closed, that ring was either a curse or a gift at this moment in time…you suspected the latter. It would give you an opportunity to walk away from the man who crushed your heart with his bare hands. He had no idea he was doing it either.

“Sorry, I have to get that.” You walked over the table and picked up the phone “Hi Mark,”

You subconsciously smiled saying his name and Greg’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly “Yes I’ve got the case file, give me a moment…” You trailed off and walked to your room. The three men in the flat listened as your voice grew quieter before it was gone entirely.

“I should pop up and tell Mrs Hudson,” Greg sent the duo a thin lipped smile and John walked up with him, leaving Sherlock in the kitchen.

Sherlock gingery made his way to your room and pressed his ear to the door, you had finished your phone call. He let himself in and you jumped hearing the door lightly shut. Quickly wiping away your tears you turned to Sherlock with a smile “I’m just happy for him,” you told the consulting detective.

“No you’re not…” He softly spoke and sat on the edge in your bed beside you “It’s not too late-”

You cut him off with a dry laugh “Oh for Christ sake Sherlock he’s marrying her! Course it’s too late!”

He opened his mouth to speak again but your phone rang again with the name ‘Mrs Jenkins’ flashing across it. “I have to take this,” you told him and he left without saying anything else.

———- Six months later

“You were probably right about this case lasting for a year and two months…” You sighed out and placed your head in your hands.

Sherlock raised a brow “What do you mean ‘probably’? I’m always right,” Sherlock smirked and you rolled your eyes as you sat with him with a cup of tea in your hand as you went over more paperwork. Sherlock cleared his throat and motioned for you to look behind your shoulder.

“Oh!” Your eyes widened with surprise “Mark! What are you doing here?” You asked standing up and motioning him to come though to the kitchen.

“Sorry to intrude, the woman, Mrs Hudson I believe, told me to just come up. I have something I think you should see, it couldn’t wait.”

You nodded and turned to Sherlock who was looking at the two of you intently, he was staring at Mark a little too much “Uh Sherlock this is Mark Darcy, Mark this is Sherlock Holmes” you introduced the two.

“Ah Mr Holmes, pleasure to finally meet you,” Mark extended his hand and Sherlock lightly shook it.

“Divorced,” he muttered out.

“Stop it,” you warned.

Mark raised a brow “What?”

“Nothing!” You smiled “What was it you wanted to show me?” Mark pulled out some paperwork showing Mr Jenkins suspicious bank transitions to overseas accounts. He was shifting his money.

You and Mark were so engrossed in conversation you didn’t even notice another presence behind you until the person lightly coughed “Greg…hey,” you smiled, a little broken, you were still recovering from the news he broke six months ago.

“Eh hi,” he looked at Mark a little wary “I just came to give you this and one for John too.” Greg handed you and Sherlock an envelope, you opened it and your heart and stomach sank seeing the wedding invite inside it.

“Thanks,” you tried to make your smile seem genuine before glancing to mark who seemed slightly out of place “Oh god where are my manners?! Greg this is Mark Darcy, he’s the lawyer working alongside me for Mrs Jenkins case. Mark this is Greg Lestrade, he’s a detective inspector at Scotland Yard.” You tossed down the envelope on the table and Sherlock raised both brows at your actions as the two other men shook hands, their grip a little too tight as if they were subconsciously fighting for dominance in front of you.

“Nice to meet you,” Mark grinned “Sorry but I have to go, see you tomorrow Y/N.” Mark kissed you on the cheek goodbye, something he never did, a wave of confusion took over your face whilst a look of anger dominated Greg’s.

“How’s the wedding planning going?” You asked Greg, pretending to actually care.

“Eh it’s alright yeah,” he muttered out and scratched the back of his head.

Sherlock finally spoke up “If there’s anything I’ve learned from Y/N’s case it’s that there is nothing in love, just money nowadays…” You turned to him and looked at him if he was growing a second head.

Greg growled under his breath “Yeah well thanks for those insightful words, Sherlock.” Greg’s sarcastic tone made you snigger and he felt a flutter in his chest knowing he was the one that just made you smile. “Anyway I have to go, see you both later.”

The DI left and you skimmed your eyes over the date of the wedding…it was seven months from now. You let out a sigh and Sherlock pursed his lips “It’s not too late you know.”

Your eyes flickered up to Sherlock before they returned to your work “Yes it is.”

———- Seven months later

“I could use this case as an excuse,” you told Sherlock as you paced about your room “It would be believable!”

“Y/N…” he warned “You’ve agreed to go. He’ll be disappointed if he doesn’t see you there.”

“Disappointed? Sherlock I am fucking devastated!” You raised your voice and tried to hold back the tears and not ruin your makeup. Sherlock looked to the floor as you continued to unleash the feelings that had been harbouring inside you. From the heartbreak Greg had instilled in you to the stress of the case, Sherlock let you toss it all at him because you needed an output and you were always there for him. It was time he did the same. “Sherlock, I love him! There are you happy?! I said it! I love Greg and I’m supposed to go to his wedding and watch him with another woman as they commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives?! Yeah! Fuck that!” You plopped yourself down on the bed and let out a long sigh, feeling a sense of relief telling the consulting detective all that.

“I understand,” Sherlock whispered out and kneeled down in front of you “But he’s your best friend and he needs your support. Don’t give up on your friend, you haven’t gave up on me or John yet have you? Be the bigger person, Y/N.” You blinked and softened your eyes hearing Sherlock’s words. Never did you think he’d be so sensitive.

Letting out a defeated sigh you told him “Only if you sit up at the back with me, I don’t want to be near the front.”

—

“I can’t see a thing,” Sherlock complained as he craned his neck up.

“Good,” you huffed out “I hate weddings.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes “No you don’t, you just hate this one.”

He was right. You looked to the front and saw Greg looking as handsome as ever. A pang of pain spread though your chest “I don’t want to be here,” tears began to well in your eyes “I’ll be crying,” you admitted “But not tears of happiness.”

“I know,” Sherlock crooned just before the wedding march began to play. You shut your eyes and opened them again widely when Sherlock grabbed your hand “I’m here for you.”

“Thank you,” you softly whispered as a tear steamed down your face. You both stood at the same time as Rachael, the bride, walked in with a huge smile on her face.

You gulped and shut your eyes again, hoping to wake up and realising that this was a horrible, warped dream. But it wasn’t.

Sherlock leaned over and whispered in your ear “You look more beautiful,” he pressed a comforting, chaste kiss to your temple.

“I can’t do this,” you lightly blubbered out “It feels like I’m having a heart attack Sherlock. The pain…it’s too much."

“It’s not too late-”

“Stop saying that,” you whispered snappishly. Of course it was too late. Everyone sat down when Rachael reached the front. John and Mary glanced around and sent you and Sherlock a concerned glance, one which Sherlock waved off nonchalantly to the pair sitting at the front.

As the person officiating the ceremony started talking you gripped into Sherlock’s hand tighter and he let you, especially when you had to physically bite your tongue when the officiator asked if anyone thought that Greg and Rachael shouldn’t be wed, that they should speak up or forever hold their peace.

You let out a deep sigh as Rachael said ‘I do’ to Greg. Your heart broke a bit more when she waited for him to say the same words.

That’s when you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I have to go-” you quickly rushed your words to Sherlock and let go of his hand, his eyes went wide and he felt his stomach sink hearing your heels clack quickly as you ran out the church.

“I-” Greg cut himself off hearing the noise and everyone turned to see you rushed out the door. As soon as you did the tears flowed freely and the sobs escaped your throat loudly. You got as far away as you could from the place and got into your car.

When you did your phone rang, you assumed it was Sherlock but it was Mark.

“Yeah?” Your voice broke a little.

“Y/N? You alright?” He asked, concerned.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you lied and wiped away the tears from your cheeks “What’s wrong?”

“The Jenkins case, they’ve moved the verdict to today.”

“Shit, today of all fucking days…” you muttered under your breath “Where are you?”

“On the way to the court with Mrs Jenkins. Where are you?” He asked.

You started your car and inhaled a gulp of air, trying to calm yourself down “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Back in the church people started whispering to one another about your outburst, Sherlock was frantically texting you. The officiator cleared his throat, capturing everyone’s attention again and the church filled with silence “Well Greg, do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?”

‘Law…’ Greg thought to himself and glanced up to the door where he just saw you run out.

He gulped and turned to Rachael.

“I…I…”

————————— Oooohhhh cliffhanger! Part 2?? Let me knowwwwwww 😉

Tags! (Tagging those who might like this, if you want to be tagged in the next part let me know!)

@adorablebadger @damnitman-jamlocked-inthetardis @wcsteland @holmes-maev @rikkachloechan @daynaan @katie27hp @laterthantherabbit

[kaikeidou-backstage-blog]

Record of Kaikeidou Servants (excerpts 11 through 15)

Excerpt from the Sea God Bookstore's "Record of Kaikeidou Servants:" a text whose author and editor are both unknown.

Negoro: CHEEERS! Sarasa: Cheeers!

Negoro: Man, I'm totally beat. I mean, geeze, I had to fight through a volley of danmaku every time just to ask them a few questions.

Sarasa: Wha~a? Are you telling me you didn't get permission from them?

Negoro: C'mon, that'd be such a pain in the butt. Talking back and forth, writing all those formal letters... it's way better to just get up in their face like "tell me about such-and-such if I win this fight," isn't it?

Sarasa: Is THAT why everyone was making those suspicious faces? C'mo~on, the Sea God Bookstore is gonna get su~uch bad reviews for this...

Negoro: Eh, not my problem.

Sarasa: Miss Kaidou's gonna get so~o mad at us again...

Negoro: What are you talking about? We're Kaidous too, aren't we?

Sarasa: Bringing out the old wordplay again, I se~ee.

Negoro: Hey, speaking of which-- let's do that thing again! It's been forever!

Sarasa: Huh? Who would we even be addressing, tho~ough?

***

Negoro: The people's gossip lasts for 75 days-- and stretches to 75 fathoms below!

Sarasa: We hold all the wonders of those depths in our very hands!

Negoro: We are scholars who pursue both the written and divine word!

Sarasa: A publishing company that births a vast sea of printed type!

Both: Together, we are...! The Sea God Bookstore's Kaidou branch!!

***

Negoro: We said it! We said our signature lines, Sarasa!

The Sea God Bookstore's Berliner Lady Negoro Kaidou (海堂 ねごろ)

Sarasa: C'mo~on, quit hugging me so tightly! You're making it hard to breathe!

The Sea God Bookstore's Blanket Girl Sarasa Kaidou (海堂 さらさ)

Negoro: Y'know, though. That last one we interviewed, uh... Miss Owari, right? The other sisters clammed right up when it came to her.

Sarasa: Oh, abo~out that. Miss Hananishiki, the next youngest, told me why. They were worried that their Eldest Sister would, like, punish them or something if they said too much, so they were all trying to avoid making any inconvenient comments~.

Negoro: Ah, that explains why they were all so cagey. I guess she's kind of intimidating, being the oldest and all, huh?

Sarasa: Both of us are ba~asically only children, so I guess we wouldn't really know. When you think about it, having nine whole sisters would be pretty amazing even for humans, right? Let alone mermaids.

Negoro: Oh, speaking of humans. I just remembered that some time ago, the Kaikeidou tried to invite some humans in so that they could make a bigger name for themselves. According to Lady Mikoto and Megumi and the like.

Sarasa: They said that our ocean isn't a place people visit very often, so at the rate things were go~oing, the whole ocean itself would disappear from Gensokyo.

Negoro: Wait, doesn't that mean we were in some pretty big trouble, too?!

Sarasa: Miss Kaidou didn't seem very panicked about it, though. When she was giving me the manuscript for the article, I asked her abo~out it, but she just said "nah, does that really matter?".

Negoro: Uh, Miss Kaidou's definitely not that laid-back?!

Sarasa: Whenever I go to talk to her about work, she's aa~allways casual.

Negoro: Whenever I send in my reports, she sends them back totally covered in red pen...

Sarasa: Anywa~ay, getting back on topi~ic...

Negoro: Sarasa, you can be real cold sometimes.

Sarasa: Miss Hananishiki was the one who said that all the sisters' abilities were the same, except for Miss Owari's.

Negoro: Oh, yeah. In the first place, Miss Owari was born as Lady Mikoto's immediate daughter, and all the other sisters were-- at least on paper-- born from Miss Owari. When you think about it, that would normally make Miss Owari the other nine sisters' mother...

Sarasa: But both Miss Owari and the other nine sisters were born from foam by Lady Miko~oto, so all ten of them are effectively siblings.

Negoro: Apparently, the sisters from Hananishiki on down were originally meant to be created as 'second attempts' if Owari failed, so they would've been born with divine powers like hers too. But since Owari learned how to wield her divine nature right off the bat, they just made her a bunch of regular sisters with no divinity instead.

Sarasa: Miss Kasumi the clam youkai knew a lo~ot about that part. She was the very first guardian of the Kaikeidou's front door, after all.

Negoro: And so, the nine other sisters aren't equipped with any special powers. They've got the same capabilities as average mermaids like us.

Sarasa: If I had to think of any bi~ig difference, I guess Miss Hananishiki is re~eally good at cooking? This one time, she let me have ju~ust a few of these green sturgeon eggs she whipped up.

Negoro: BWH-- Oh my god, why didn't I hear about that...?! WHY DIDN'T SHE INVITE ME TOOOOO?!

Negoro: Hey, now that I think about it... if the goddess of the entire sea came to Gensokyo, is the outside world, like, doing okay?

Sarasa: Oh, yeah, they're doing fi~ine. I heard a~all about it from Lady Mikoto.

Negoro: Huh? When, exactly?!

Sarasa: Lady Mikoto sa~aid that she's just one descendant of the sea gods from ancient lege~ends, and there's plenty of others besides her, so it's still okay out the~ere.

Negoro: Huh!

Sarasa: Y'see, Lady Mikoto used to be a sea goddess who lived in a bi~ig lake, with that special power of hers that can create life. But with just lakewater, she couldn't support all the creatures she'd created.

Negoro: 'Cause it was fresh water, yeah.

Sarasa: And as she was worrying about that, this one gi~irl-- the one named Lady Otohime, who were interviewing toda~ay-- she helped Lady Mikoto turn the lakewater into a fountain of life that could support a~all the sea creatures.

Negoro: And that's how this little "ocean" that we live in was born.

Sarasa: Ye~ep. But then, since they made the lake wa~ay too big in the process, Gensokyo was about to like, burst at the seams...! So that one lady-- the Hakurei shrine maiden, I think? She came down here and told them to stop.

Negoro: Aaaah! I remember that part! I was THERE for it!

Sarasa: Huh? Did something happe~en?

Negoro: Not just SOMETHING! That Hakurei maiden or whatever slapped me right outta the water on her way down!

Sarasa: ...Oh~h, yeah, you did have that big bump on your head that one ti~ime.

Negoro: See, all of a sudden it sounded like there was this big commotion up on the surface, right? And I was like "ooh what's happening...?" and I went on up to look, right? When suddenly, BAM! Some what's-her-face cannonballs down in here, and as soon as she sees me, she starts hurling amulets and whacking me with a giant ritual rod! ...And then, later, someone else started throwing weird stars that tasted like candy, a-and, and shooting huge lasers and stuff... *snf* a-and... *sniff* and on t-top of everything else... there, there were! There were these, like, nuclear kaboom things, a-and... *gross sobbing*

Sarasa: Oh~h, there, there. You did your best out there, Negoro. I know it must have been re~eally scary...

Negoro: *snrf.* .....And then, like, a little after that is when the ocean shrank back down and stuff. Was that 'cause of-- what did you call her? The Hack-and-Slash shrine maiden?

Sarasa: Hakurei shrine maiden.

Negoro: Yeah, her. ...Okay, wow, we're getting off-topic. So, basically, the reason we, Miss Kaidou and the Bookstore, and the Kaikeidou itself are all here, is because of Lady Mikoto and that Lady Otohime you mentioned?

Sarasa: Yep, that's basically it. When we head over there next time to give them a finished copy of the book, maybe we should give them something to show our thanks?

Negoro: Hm. What kind of present can we even give them...? Like, they're gods, but we're just youkai, y'know?

Sarasa: How about we bring them some of our scales?

Negoro: Uh. That seems kind of... blood sacrificey.

Negoro: Although, the Kaikeidou and its sea being created are what led to us and the Sea God Bookstore existing, so I guess just writing this book is a thank-you in its own way?

Sarasa: Yeah, you could put it like that.

Negoro: We can't dance or fight like the Kai sisters, either. I'm so jealous of all those cool games they get to play...

Sarasa: Negoro, you want to fight?

Negoro: Well, I wanna play-fight.

Sarasa: Why not play-fight with Miss Kaidou, the~en?

Negoro: You really think she'd deign to play with us? Plus, there's her ability to worry about too... even if we had a proper match, it'd probably end with her reading every single one of my moves.

Sarasa: Then... how about me?

Negoro: You're way too slow. It wouldn't even be a competition.

Sarasa: Aww...

Negoro: Hey, now that I think about it. When I went to do interviews at the Kaikeidou this one other time, there was this kind of weirdly dramatic atmosphere, right? And everyone was in such a hurry that I couldn't get any info out of them at all. I think they said there was an intruder there...

Sarasa: Really~?

Negoro: I never met whoever it was, but apparently some super-strong youkai broke in, and Minamo and Suzuri were all sprawled out on the ground...

Sarasa: Sounds really dangerous.

Negoro: Well, I got as far as the entry hall and then high-tailed it outta there. What do you think it was, though?

Sarasa: I wo~onder... Maybe it was, like, a really big-name youkai~? Y'know, like the ones we've heard rumours about lately.

Negoro: A really big one... well, you've got your nurarihyons, your orochis... oh, not to mention the kuda--

Sarasa: Hey, Miss Kaidou's back!

Negoro: Miss Kaidou...!

Production:

Sea God Bookstore: "Kaidou" ・A bookstore that produces books detailing key events in the deep seas of fantasy. Deep, deep down, at depths that humans can't hope to reach, they keep a quiet collection of books found nowhere else; records of mysteries more distant than the stars. The only ones who know whether these events are fantasy or reality are the various "studios" lined up within the Bookstore's walls.

・"Kaidou" is one of the studios within the Sea God Bookstore, run by one of the Bookstore's managers, Minogiku Kaidou. Its employees all receive the surname "Kaidou," based on Minogiku's studio name. The other studios mainly do archival work, but "Kaidou" is one of the few that publish books and magazines. They serialize magazines, journals and tabloids, compile, edit and publish full-fledged books, and so on.

Authors:

Sarasa Kaidou (海堂 さらさ) ・A journalist employed at "Kaidou" in the Sea God Bookstore. She is Minogiku Kaidou's direct subordinate, and in this book, she conducted the interviews for the six elder Kai sisters. One of the mermaids native to the ocean surrounding the Kaikeidou; after coming into existence in Gensokyo due to certain particular circumstances, she was adopted by Minogiku Kaidou. It seems she has some past connection to the outside world...?

Negoro Kaidou (海堂 ねごろ) ・A journalist employed at "Kaidou" in the Sea God Bookstore. She came to work at the Bookstore with Sarasa's help, and is currently employed as one of Minogiku Kaidou's subordinates. She conducted the interviews for the four youngest Kai sisters. Hails from the ocean surrounding the Kaikeidou; were it not for her job at the Bookstore, she would be like any other mermaid who swims carefree in the sea.

etc...

Editor:

Minogiku Kaidou (海堂 水乃菊) ・The administrator of the Sea God Bookstore's "Kaidou" studio; within the studio itself, she serves as the chief editor. She's a mermaid with a keen sense for information, which she makes full use of to produce the various serial publications she oversees. On top of her deep craving for information, she makes a strong habit of guessing what people are thinking, so she's often mistaken for a satori; however, she's 100% mermaid. As can be inferred from how she gives the Kaidou studio name to all her direct subordinates, she's deeply possessive in addition to knowledge-hungry. If you're foolish enough to spark her interest in you, she may very well steal all the information you have. Prepare thyself.