#there aren’t enough dragons to do the whole song

[wonustars]

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽

𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x f.reader 𖥔 wordcount: 19.0k 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)

𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.

𖥔 tags: nonidol!au, ex-mafia!mingyu, househusband!mingyu, afab!reader, catmom!reader, neighbour!verkwan, marshall officer!junhui and jihoon, ex-fiancè! seungcheol, fake marriage, mingyu loves to garden, mingyu has a large dragon tattoo on his back that is barely mentioned, mentions of the show Bluey and the movie Twilight, lots of domesticity and house work talk.

𖥔 note: i got this fic done earlier than expected but i have LOTS of people to thank because they are a huge part of why i was even able to get it done. firstly to my beta-readers, thank you, you were all so helpful and i really wouldn't have it done without you all @gyuswhore , @highvern , and @onlyhuis ♡. thank you to @wooahaeproductions , @hannieween , and june (again) for allowing me to put a cameo of you all in the fic! a big thank you to all the people who sent asks that helped me write some of the scenes in the story. thank you to a lot of the @svthub members who helped sm with this fic, esp @ourdawnishotterthanourday, @bitchlessdino, @seokgyuu, @onlymingyus, and @the-boy-meets-evil !! i couldn't have done it without you all and i'm so grateful ♡. i worked really hard on this fic and i've been talking about it for so long, so thank you to all of you who interacted with my posts and waited so patiently. i appreciate every single one of you and i hope you enjoy this story because i really love it too :). see you soonest - anna ♡.

𖥔 some songs i listened to while writing: lagi - bini, i wish - seventeen, sunny day - beabadoobee, chocolate - seventeen vocal unit. 𖥔 masterlist

-> smut tags/ warnings under the cut (18+ mdni!)

𖥔 smut tags: dom!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected penetrative p in v sex (don't do it!), breeding kink, multiple rounds, multiple positons, creampie, spanking, choking (barely), oral (f.receiving), spitting, pet names (reader: baby, wife) (mingyu: baby). 𖥔 warnings: mentions of weapon and drug trafficking, violence, reader is paranoid and anxious from time to time, a lot of inaccurate talk about legal stuff and witness protection, everything listed is talked about with as very little detail as possible.

The tension in the air is thick, not one word was uttered the whole car ride.

Everything still felt surreal, especially because the person you’re forced to live with for the next year is someone you aren’t particularly fond of. 

When you were told that you’d be put into witness protection due to your ex-fiance’s mafia bust, you didn’t expect that it would be spent with his right-hand man. The same man who you watched execute heinous acts under the volition of your ex. It wasn’t his fault that he had to carry out orders, but witnessing him unleash his wrath onto others was enough for you to steer clear of him. 

You aren’t one to judge, especially because you were to be wed to the mafia boss himself. You knew he was partaking in shady business, but you didn’t know that innocent people’s lives were included in his scheme to make more money. 

“I think we’re here,” Mingyu breaks the silence for the first time since you entered the car. 

Your attention is brought to the large sign that is displayed in front of the gated community. The words “Bridgewater Heights” are plastered to the high cement wall that surrounds the area. A part of you is glad that it at least looks like a secure place to live and bougie too; the gated entrance requiring a passcode with guards sitting at the doors screamed wealth. 

Never in your life did you think you were going to be living in such an expensive-looking place. Even when you were still dating Seungcheol, who had money raining down on him constantly, you never desired this lifestyle. Maybe it was because you never understood the want to live in the suburbs, the city suited you better anyway.

 Those initial thoughts are offset as you stare out the car window. children happily playing in the streets, the sun shining down on them, their laughter seeping through the cracks of the car door as they skip around. Everything here seems so cheerful. you wonder if you could begin to find that type of joy if you stay here long enough too. 

As you approach the house you are forced to stay in, you realize that it looks like every other one in the neighbourhood. Large, modern, and painfully identical to your neighbours. A white picket fence lining the yard, with a front-facing garage that perfectly fits two cars. Large windows and a wrap-around porch tie it all together. You couldn’t help but be amazed at how grand everything looks, the difference is drastic from your cozy apartment back in the city. 

An audible gulp goes down your throat. It didn’t start feeling real till now, especially because you spent the hour-long car ride daydreaming about your old home. Reading a book on the couch while stroking your cat, Norbert’s fur. His purring in the back seat calms you down, but not enough that you can accept your fate of living with Mingyu for the next year. 

Your now “husband” parks in the driveway before popping the trunk open to unload the suitcases that carried half of your life. All your clothes, books, and trinkets are all sized down to sixty kilograms. It upset you to take only your most important things, but if it meant you’d be safe from your ex, you knew you had no choice but to agree. 

As you opened the door to your new home, your heart began to pound in your chest. 

You watched as Mingyu continued to haul everything from the car into the house; his large biceps bulging through his white tee as he carried the box that caged your now whining cat. Norbert’s meowing becomes more agitated with every passing second he spends in his carrier case, the guilty feeling pools in your stomach as his meows turn into cries. You hated keeping him in one place for long, especially for long car rides. 

Norbert has always been an active cat, running around, and exploring your old neighbourhood, and at the end of the day, he always came back. At night you two spent hours cuddling while you read your books; sometimes reading the words aloud as if your cat could understand what you were saying. 

Mingyu finishes up with the last of the boxes, taking a step back to look at the new house in all its glory. His hands on his hips as he sighs, admiring the work that had gone into building the house. You didn’t understand why he found the craftsmanship so interesting, but you decided not to think too hard about it. 

He turns to you with an apprehensive smile, his eyes glinting in the sun, “Home sweet home, I guess.” 

two. 

The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward, to say the least. Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homey" as possible. 

Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye candy, even though he wore his pink Shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn. 

Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in. 

“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal. 

“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully. 

“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.

The group of forty-plus-year-old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratched the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him goodbye, curious as to what the group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers, isn’t it? 

The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raise a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it. 

“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand. 

Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you. There wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him. 

“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check-up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house. 

You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyway, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden. 

From across the yard, neither you nor Mingyu notices Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awkward for newlyweds, he thinks to himself. 

“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book. 

Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “Huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?” 

“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more. 

three.

“So, how’s the house? Do you guys have everything you need?” Jihoon asks over the phone. 

Being the marshall officer assigned to your case, he would take time out of his hectic workday to check up on you and Mingyu. You still remember the first time he had contacted you, informing you about your ex escaping a planned police raid. The rhythmic beating of your heart stopped the moment those words left Jihoon’s lips, and the fear of Seungcheol showing up at your home unannounced at any moment doubled within a second. 

You didn’t want to leave everything behind, especially because of how hard it was for you to build a life for yourself in your old city. But the other half of you was scared at the possibility of Seungcheol finding out about your new apartment and your new job; it was all too risky. 

Now that you’re here, a part of you wonders what you would have said if Jihoon told you that Mingyu was the man they were going to put into witness protection alongside yourself. Maybe if you knew from the beginning you would’ve refused, or at least asked to be placed somewhere that allowed you to be alone. 

“It’s fine Jihoon, we’ve unpacked everything, but our neighbours are quite noisy if I’m being honest,” you sigh, petting Norbert in your lap as you answer all of his questions. 

The first day you and Mingyu moved in, your neighbour Seungkwan took it upon himself to introduce you to Bridgwater. Not only did he give you the rundown of every family that lived on your block, but he also became very curious about you and Mingyu. Seungkwan’s questions hit you back to back as if you were being interviewed, and you don’t even remember how you answered any of them. 

“Who’s the handsome one carrying all your things?”

“Oh, that’s your husband? How long have you been married? How did you two meet?” 

“Do you two have any kids? No? Oh what a shame, this neighbourhood is filled with them. Does your husband have a twin brother? Don’t tell Vernon I said that — just joking!”

“Oh, who’s Vernon? He’s my boyfriend, he’s in the house somewhere, anyways why did you two decide to move to Bridgwater?” 

The questions went on for what felt like forever and before you knew it Mingyu had finished unpacking the first floor of the house. The place came fully furnished so you didn’t have much to do. But Seungkwan made you nervous to say the least, especially because you didn’t prepare to be quizzed on your first day in the neighbourhood. The only good thing to come out of that interaction was the brownies he baked, which tasted amazing, surprisingly enough. 

“Why? Should I look into it?” Jihoon suggests, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

You shake your head as if he can see you through the phone call. 

“No, it’s okay, one of them just likes to gossip I think,” you laugh. “Other than that we’re fine.” 

You hear Jihoon sigh out of relief, his day is already long enough. If he had to spend time looking into your neighbours to see if they had a criminal record, he would miss his dinner date. 

“Okay, good to know. I’ll call you again next week,” Jihoon says with a monotonous tone. 

A giggle leaves your lips, the exhaustion clear in his voice. You felt a little bad knowing he had to spend a lot of time on you and Mingyu’s case, but you were also thankful for the fact that you had someone to talk to from time to time. 

It's only been about a week since you arrived in your little suburbia ‘haven’, and you still haven’t made any friends in the neighbourhood. You don’t count Seungkwan… he was more like a pain in the ass than a friend if anything. Although his boyfriend Vernon wasn’t as bad; quiet and a little expressionless, at least he kept to himself. 

You hear the front door unlock with a beep, you already know who it is. 

Whipping your head to see Mingyu stepping through the front door, hands filled with grocery bags. His appearance is laughable, his tall stature and large muscles contrasting the pink Shiba Inu apron that he wears over his clothes. You weren’t sure where he had got it from or why he chose to wear it in public, but you don’t feel like it’s your place to question him. 

In the few days that you two have been living together, you begin to realize how different he is compared to his former mafia brothers. Mingyu had a knack for knowing his way around the kitchen, the whole house. He spent a lot of his free time cleaning, gardening, or making meals for the two of you. 

The two of you didn’t talk much, and there was still some awkwardness lingering in the air. Meals were eaten with minimal conversation, and during the nights you would read your books in the living room, Mingyu would sit on the opposite side attempting to get Norbert to warm up to him. 

“Norbert, please! Anytime but now, I have a shit ton of groceries that need to be put away!” You can hear Mingyu exasperate at the front of the house. 

Norbert’s meowing rings throughout the house and you already know that his claws are probably scratching away at Mingyu’s pants. From what you have gathered, Norbert isn’t very fond of Mingyu. You assume that he’s just not used to having another person around the house, but at the same time, you thought your cat would have started to get used to his presence by now. 

“Norbert, baby! Come and sit with me, I’ve got a new book for us to read,” you call out for him, saving Mingyu from your cat’s wrath. 

The pitter-patter of his claws grows louder as he makes his way towards you, Mingyu’s large sigh of relief following shortly after. You laugh to yourself at how much he likes to torment Mingyu, even though Norbert only weighs about twenty pounds and is a cat.  

The night goes on without another hitch. Mingyu prepares dinner for the two of you while you and Norbert dive into the first installment of Twilight. Reading aloud so your baby (cat) can follow along with the story about teenage vampires and werewolves. 

four. 

Mingyu was a man who thought he would never be able to escape his mafia, let alone be able to restart in a place that didn’t tie him to any of his illicit work. He never wanted to work for Seungcheol, nor did he want to live every day wondering if it was going to be his last. 

He sees himself as a simple man, and all his daydreams are centered around living a simple life. A home that’s fit for a family, a golden retriever to throw frisbees with, and neighbourhood barbecues. He thought it was all some far-fetched fantasy. 

It wasn’t until Jihoon got in contact with him, that’s when he realized that he finally had a chance at living the life he always dreamed of. What he didn’t know was that you would be the one he was going to be living with. But the moment Jihoon mentioned you, he knew that his wishes were more out of reach than he hoped. 

He didn’t have anything against you, but he still remembers the day you left Seungcheol. It's heavily ingrained in his memory, not only because your escape created an uproar, but it was also the day he realized he too needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

… 

“Boss? Wonwoo told me you wanted to talk,” Mingyu enters Seungcheol’s office, face painted with worry. 

The office faces the west side of the city, skyscrapers and clouds surrounding the large floor-to-ceiling windows. There sat Seungcheol, his hair tousled every which way due to his habit of constantly running his fingers through it. The most obvious indicator of Seungcheol’s stress is if his hair is a complete mess, and that is how Mingyu knew that there must be something wrong. 

“Y/n left,” Seungcheol’s voice breaks, head in his hands. 

His eyes are bloodshot, shoulders shaking as he cries to himself quietly. Seungcheol wasn’t prepared for you to leave, let alone disappear without a single goodbye.  He knew it was his fault too, and he knew why you left. The world flipped upside from that day onwards. Seungcheol hasn’t been the same since.

The air becomes thick, and Mingyu finds it hard to swallow. He knew how much Seungcheol adored you, and he knew that he would do anything for you. 

“What? Why? Did she say anything to you?” Mingyu panics, unsure what to say or how to comfort his leader. 

“No note, nothing,” Cheol sighs, picking at the chipped piece of wood on his desk. “All she left was her ring on the dresser.” 

“I’m sorry Cheol, I didn’t know.” Mingyu becomes meek, his voice softer than feathers falling onto the pavement. 

His stomach plummets to the ground. He had a feeling you found out what truly lies under Seungcheol’s business, but he didn’t know you would leave so hastily. He felt the guilt swirl throughout his body, but a part of him was relieved. Mingyu knew you weren’t meant for this lifestyle, and if you stayed any longer there would be no chance for you to escape. 

Wonwoo informed him that he told you about what Seungcheol does to bring money in. He told Mingyu that it wouldn’t be right to continue to let you live so carelessly without knowing what type of person your fiance is. 

It wasn’t long after that conversation that Mingyu found his way out of Seungcheol’s grasp too. He knows he should’ve felt bad, and that he should’ve at least found an excuse to leave Seungcheol. But he just couldn’t go through with it, he knew if he even spent a moment explaining himself, he would’ve never been able to leave. 

Mingyu was Seungcheol’s right-hand man, his confidant, and most importantly his best friend. Mingyu has seen Cheol grow into the person he is today, and it only makes him feel even more remorse. He knows he should’ve stopped him from becoming blinded by wealth, by power. But he didn’t and it caused him not only to lose his fiancée, but also his brother. 

Since that day, Mingyu has constantly pondered what could’ve been if Seungcheol hadn’t turned to mafia life. Would they have been happy? Would they have lived long lives with families of their own? There are so many unanswered what-ifs. He knows he can’t change his past anymore, but he knows that wants a better future. Even if it meant spending a year faking a marriage with his former best friend’s ex-fiancée. 

five. 

“Oh Y/n-ie! It’s good to see you, I swear I haven’t seen you leave the house since you’ve moved in,” Seungkwan snips, giving you a tooth-achingly sweet smile. 

You try to suppress your eye-roll as much as possible as he walks over to your side of the comically green grassed yard. Seungkwan’s hand is on his hip as he watches you make your way to your car. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Seungkwan. Just needed to pick up a few things for dinner. Mingyu spent the afternoon at the country club,” you return his fake smile, trying to keep up the facade of a doting wife. 

“Oh! Is that so? I swear I thought your husband did the housework in your home. He’s always wearing that pink apron around the neighbourhood.” Seungkwan pretends to act invested in your “married life”, but he’s trying to get whatever gossip he can out of you. His real goal is purely to entertain the neighbourhood aunties with any information on the newlyweds. 

Stopping in your tracks, his words catch you by surprise. You should’ve known that Seungkwan is an observant person, especially because he somehow knows everything about everyone in Bridgewater.

“Oh we split the chores evenly,” you let out a forced laugh, he offers to do the housework, and you think to yourself before continuing, “And he likes the apron, so who am I to deny his happiness?” 

Not wanting to be grilled by Seungkwan any longer, you hastily slip into your car before he can get another word in. 

…

“Norbert, please calm down honey, I’m trying to cook! And if I don’t end up eating neither will you,” you warn your cat to stop pawing at your leg. 

Norbert was extra clingy today, and knowing you weren’t the best cook in the world, you couldn’t afford to ruin the recipe for a second time. Yes, a second time. 

The first attempt at making alfredo for both you and Mingyu ended miserably, and thankfully you were smart enough to buy double the ingredients just in case any mistakes were to occur when you were cooking. The recipe online looked simple, and you even watched a few TikTok videos in an attempt to expand your knowledge. 

You thought that making a cream sauce and boiling some noodles would be pretty straightforward, but somehow, you burnt the boiling noodles. Seeing all the noodles stick to the bottom of the pan you decided to just leave the searing pot in the sink and worry about it later, which turned out to be another grave mistake. 

Mistake number two started when you thought the pot was cool enough to touch, earning you a sizzling burn on your soft skin. This explains Norbert’s clingy behaviour, witnessing all your fuck ups through his kitten eyes. You try not to swear in front of the baby but you couldn’t help but let out a few curses while you attempted to bandage up your burn.

 To say the least, you shouldn’t be let into the kitchen from now on. But you felt bad that Mingyu made food for the both of you instead of letting you fend for yourself, so you thought you could at least return the gesture. 

Norbert’s meows come to an abrupt stop as he hears the front door beep, making his way to greet Mingyu at the door. Except Norbert never greets Mingyu in a friendly way. Not more than ten seconds pass before you begin to hear Norbert’s hissing and clawing into the man's thighs. 

“Norbert! Please! Where’s your mom? Can’t you just sit with her so I can at least take my shoes off?” Mingyu begs, causing you to snort. 

Norbert doesn't listen to anyone but you, and even that is a rare occurrence for your sassy cat. 

“Honey, come to the kitchen!” you yell at your cat to return to his rightful side beside you. 

Mingyu comes speeding down the hallway, Norbert following him, his curious eyes peeking at your frame. He watches as you concentrate on making the alfredo sauce, tongue stuck out and a layer of sweat lining your forehead. 

The sun is setting behind you, the golden rays hitting your face, highlighting your features beautifully. Mingyu is entranced, his prior feelings of hunger are nothing but a memory of the past. 

You can feel his eyes on you, his stare boring holes into the side of your face and it causes your shoulders to stiffen slightly. Turning to face him, you quirk an inquisitive brow, not sure as to why he’s so trained on you. The gears begin to turn, and finally, the imaginary lightbulb begins to ding. 

“I was calling for Norbert,” you clarified. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, but it’s fine if you’re here too. I tried to make us dinner, I know you’re the cook but I felt bad that you’re always the one preparing food for us,” you shrug, trying not to focus on how handsome Mingyu looks in his golfing attire. 

His large biceps stretch the material of his shirt beyond belief, while the pants define his slim waist. The strands of hair are somehow perfectly placed, and his eyes are so kind, it would be stupid to deny his beauty. You can admit that Mingyu is extremely attractive, and you know you don’t owe Seungcheol anything, but the thought of being involved with Mingyu more than you already are could fuck things up for your future, especially knowing this arrangement isn’t permanent.

“I don’t mind though.” 

“I know you don’t but I do,” you sigh, finishing up the dish by adding the sauce to the pasta. 

Turning towards the island, you begin to plate the rest of the sides for dinner, trying your best to make sure that this batch is more edible than the first attempt. Mingyu continues to watch you, his arms crossed as he leans against the fridge. 

This is everything Mingyu wished for himself, the view of you plating the food you’re about to eat together, even if you’re his ‘best friend’s’ ex. Playing golf at the country club, even if it’s with Jihoon, who wanted to be able to meet without being inconspicuous. Coming home to a fluffy fur baby, even though Norbert hates his guts. It may not be perfect, or how Mingyu imagined it exactly, but it’s better than before. Better than when he was living every day like it was his last, working a job that brought him no happiness. 

“Did you burn yourself earlier?” he asks you, noticing the bandage you wrapped around your left hand. 

“Yeah, I’m not the best cook so, if the food doesn't taste right, sorry,” you apologize in advance, not wanting Mingyu to get his hopes up. 

He laughs at how apologetic you look, and you turn to give him a glare, his canines poking out of his smile like fangs. This is probably one of the first times you two held a full conversation. The only other time was when you were deciding on how the house was going to be run, and picking out your separate bedrooms. 

Mingyu was kind enough to let you stay in the master bedroom while he slept in the room across the hall from yours. If you took away the history you had with Mignyu and Seungcheol, you could imagine that the two of you are just like roommates. Living together, acquainted, but not exactly friendly or close. 

It isn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be, and you may have misjudged Mingyu at first. He’s a lot different than he was all those years ago, or maybe you find him to be different now because you didn't know him all that well when you were still with Seungcheol. 

You find Mingyu to be kind, soft-hearted, and a man who somehow knows a lot about taking care of the house. Even knowledgeable on how to clean Norbert’s litter box, and give him the occasional bath.

“What did you and Jihoon talk about at the country club?” you ask him, wanting to know if there’s any important news that should be brought to your attention. 

“Well he said that the FBI is still on the hunt for Seungcheol, but the rest of the guys have already been put into custody,” he sighs. 

“And Wonwoo?” 

“He’s fine, they pardoned him for giving up information,” Mingyu mutters, walking up to the space beside you. 

He takes the bowl of lettuce from your hands, adding in all the ingredients you prepped for the salad to have alongside your pasta. The brush of your hands makes you blush like some teenage girl, but you allow him to help you nonetheless. You didn’t realize how tiring cooking was because you’ve never had to cook for more than one person before. 

“That’s good to hear. If it weren’t for Wonwoo, I wouldn’t have been able to leave that damn place,” you laugh bitterly, folding the sauce into your noodles, making sure they were fully coated. 

“I was there, that day,” Mingyu mentions, his eyes trained on preparing the food in front of him, “Seungcheol was a wreck.” 

“I know, and I know it hurt him, but I couldn’t stand being there anymore. Especially after Wonwoo told me the truth.” 

“It’s okay, he’s not the same guy I knew from when we were kids either.” 

“I hope he’s moved on at least.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu shrugs, his eyes glassy, “I left a few days after you did.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, for the same reasons you did, and also for myself,” he sighs, moving away to grab plates from the cupboards. 

Standing there, you’re stunned. Mingyu was someone Seungcheol saw as his brother, and you thought they would live their mafia life together till the end. As cheesy as it sounds, there were times you felt that your ex cared more for Mingyu than any other person who worked for him. 

Mingyu begins to set the table, Norbert following closely as he peers at the counter to see all the food that you’ve made. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought that even your cat was aware of the stiff atmosphere that blankets you and Mingyu. 

You don’t know if you should pry, so you just nod and help him with putting dinner on the table. And for the rest of the night, it was quiet. Eating in silence while Norbert watches Bluey in the living room, something that you’ve always put on for him just to keep him occupied while you and Mingyu eat dinner. 

After dinner was finished, Mingyu offered to wash the dishes, allowing you to relax and enjoy some episodes of Bluey with Norbert purring peacefully by your side. 

“Mind if I join?” Mingyu enters the living room, wearing sweats and a white tank top. 

You give him a shy smile gesturing for him to sit on your right side while Norbert lays on the cushion to your left. His taunt muscles distract you for a second, but you do your best to shake the attraction from your coursing veins.  The couch dips and Mingyu lets out a relieved sigh. Probably because he was tired from the day he spent trying to pretend he was out golfing with Jihoon. 

“So what’s the show about?” Mingyu asks you, his eyes trained on your side profile. 

“A show about a dog family,” you chuckle, “Originally it was meant for Norbert to watch when I’m working or when we’re eating, but it’s pretty good.” 

“Really? Isn’t it for kids?” Mingyu snorts but continues to sit next to you, watching the said kids' show. 

“Yeah it is, but Norbert is a kid to me,” you laugh, giving Norbert extra pats. 

“He’s a little menace that one,” Mingyu shakes his head, “I don’t think he likes me very much.” 

“Norbert just needs to get used to you,” you shrug, “I���ve had him since I left Seungcheol, so he’s seen me at my worst, he might just be overprotective of me.” 

Mingyu nods, taking in everything you’re telling him. He understands how leaving your ex-fiance is traumatic and heartbreaking. He knows it wasn’t easy for you, but at least you had Norbert to help you heal. 

“It wasn’t an easy decision, and Norbert helped me stay strong. It was lonely without Seungcheol for a long time, and a part of me will always love who he used to be.” 

Heat overwhelms Mingyu’s body, and his heart breaks for you. He can’t imagine what it's like to love someone and find out they’re not the person you thought they were. He knew you tried to tolerate his work, but at some point, you were led to your breaking point. 

“I hope you know you did the right thing. Seungcheol was going down a dark path and you were able to get out,” Mingyu smiles at you, his eyes filled with sincerity. 

“Thank you Mingyu, I appreciate that,” you return his smile. 

The two of you spend the rest of the night watching episodes of Bluey with Norbert, talking a little in between about the characters. Laughing at the scenes with Bluey and her younger sister, falling into a comfortable silence with each passing second. 

…

You feel warm, no, hot even. The sunlight hitting your face makes your eyes scrunch in discomfort. There's an ache in your shoulders as you begin to wake up from a very uncomfortable sleep. An arm pinning you down to the couch, a leg over yours. It takes you a while to begin to comprehend where you are and who is lying next to you. 

Mingyu’s snores fill your ears, heavy breaths tickling the back of your neck. You almost fall onto the carpet as you realize who exactly is holding you. Last night ended so peacefully, so much so that you don’t even remember falling asleep to begin with. 

Yet here you are, enveloped in his grasp, panicking and wondering how you’re going to escape without waking him up. And if matters couldn’t get any worse, you feel a hard bump brush against your lower back. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, he can’t be, you think to yourself. But you know what exactly is poking you as if this situation could get any more awkward. 

It's normal, right? Men get morning wood all the time, you thought to yourself. 

“Shit…” you whisper to yourself, slowly prying Mingyu’s arm from off your waist. 

He stirs in his sleep as you move off the couch but not enough to wake him up. As you stand up to walk away, you take one last peek at him, wondering how you two ended up falling asleep while watching Bluey of all shows. 

The usually sharp features are softened by his slumber, giving him a youthful look. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look so peaceful, and it suits him. This neighbourhood suits him as if he’s been living here all his life. It makes you feel a little envious knowing how easy it is for him to assimilate. He remembers all the neighbours' names and says hello to everyone who passes him while he's working in the yard, he just made it all look so easy to forget his life in the bustling city. Although you can’t blame him, you can tell he loves it here because of how much care he puts into the house. You can’t help but wonder why he’s trying so hard knowing both of you will part ways by next year. 

six. 

While you spent the majority of the day holed up in your office trying to finish off the rest of your projects, Mingyu decided that it was a lovely day to try and bond more with Norbert. He wasn’t sure how to make the stubborn kitten fall for him, but he thought that a nice walk around the neighbourhood couldn’t hurt. 

The day had barely started and Norbert was already making a fuss. Mingyu isn’t well-versed when it comes to cats; he’s more of a dog person himself. So to his surprise, Norbert was very adamant about staying indoors today. 

“Don’t you wanna explore the neighbourhood, Norbert?” Mingyu tries to persuade the cat, which makes him feel like a fool. 

Norbert gives him a blank stare obviously, and Mingyu wonders why he’s even trying knowing that the cat probably can’t understand him anyway. Trying his best to compromise with the ever-so-stubborn Norbert, a light bulb goes off in his head. 

It surely wasn’t easy, and there were a few scratches here and there, but Mingyu finally was able to put Norbert into the basket of his bicycle. The cat meowed like crazy until he was hit with the fresh air and warm sunlight. His meows died down and he sat in the basket peacefully, watching the kids play on the street and the cars pass by. 

“See? Not so bad now is it?” Mingyu chuckles, noticing the shift in Norbert’s mood. He meows back while nuzzling into the safety of his blanket. 

“It’ll be a boys’ day today, your mom’s busy working,” Mingyu continues, even though the animal can’t understand what he’s saying.

Feeling the wind brush through his hair, Mingyu takes a deep breath of fresh air. A content smile made its way onto his face, he could get used to this. The neighbours of Bridgewater waved to him as he biked along the streets. It's so peaceful, everyone is happy, and Mingyu is happy. He loved to explore even if it was just by himself, even if it meant he was alone with his thoughts. 

“Mingyu darling, what are you doing out and about today?” one of the older women he sees daily calls out for him. 

“Good afternoon! Me and Norbert just wanted to explore today,” he smiles with a toothy grin. 

The woman blushes at his handsome visuals, trying not to get caught up in his charms. She looks behind his large frame, spotting the cat sleeping peacefully in the basket attached to his bike. Letting out a giggle, finding it quite funny that Norbert is a cat and not a dog, usually, you don’t take cats out for these types of things. 

“Where’s that wife of yours? I’ve only seen her a few times, but oh my, isn’t she so pretty? You got lucky you know,” she chuckles, patting Mingyu’s arm playfully. 

Mingyu’s eyes shine at the mention of you, he agrees that you’re pretty but it feels a little weird that you're referred to as his wife, knowing that it’s all a facade. 

“Thank you miss, I’ll have to let her know that you said that,” he replies kindly while Norbert stirs a little in his spot before returning to his sleep. 

“Please don’t call me Miss, it's so formal! Just call me Auntie, okay?” she returns his kind smile. “You know what, I’ve got some leftover kimchi, why don’t you take it home, for you and your wife.” 

Mingyu’s eyes widened, his heart warmed by her act of kindness. “Is that ok? You don’t have to feel obligated to do that.” 

“Oh please, you young people, always so polite. I want to! So please share it with your wife, make some kimchi stew for dinner,” she reassures him, leaving him at her front yard to fetch a container of said kimchi. 

She comes back with a huge tub, enough to feed them for a whole month maybe. Handing him over the large container, she reminds him to come back when they run out. Bidding her goodbye, Mingyu returns home from his bike ride successfully with a sleepy cat and a comically large tub of fermented cabbage in tow. 

…

The smell of kimchi stew wafts from the kitchen into your office causing your stomach to growl with hunger. Focused on your pending tasks, you didn’t realize how fast the time flew by while you were working. Glancing over at the clock you’re surprised that it's already a quarter to five.

Stepping out to see what Mingyu’s doing in the kitchen, you find his back turned to you, nursing a large pot of stew on the burner. His large frame is accentuated by a white tank top, the pink string of his apron strewn along his waist. At this point, you weren’t sure if you were drooling over the smell of the food or the sight of your muscular fake husband. 

“What are you cooking?” you call out, leaning against the door frame that leads to your workspace. 

Mingyu jumps at the sound of your voice, surprised that you’ve come out so early. He knows you tend to work for long periods, only coming out when you’ve fully completed your assigned projects. 

“Kimchi stew, the lady down the street gave us a huge tub,” he replies, still stirring the pot without looking back at you. “I took Norbert out for a bike ride and she offered so.” 

“You took Norbert for a bike ride?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. 

Norbert is the type of cat who doesn’t like getting picked up and knowing that information makes it hard to believe Mingyu was able to successfully put him into the basket attached to his bike. Imagining him fighting to get your very grumpy cat into the bike made you giggle, especially because you know how much Norbert doesn’t like Mingyu.   

“Yeah, after a few scratches, he got in and I think he liked it. He fell asleep for most of it though,” Mingyu snorted, recalling how much that furball of fury put up a fight till his body hit the basket. 

“It’s nice that you’re trying to bond with him, it just takes him a while to warm up to you.” 

“Yeah, I figured we just needed a boy's day while you were working.” 

“Hmm, anyways the kimchi stew, is it ready?” you inquire while your stomach’s impatience continues to grow with each passing second. 

“It should be good, do you mind setting the table for me?” he requests while taking the pot off the burner. 

You don’t say anything else, moving to the living room to turn on more episodes for Norbert before grabbing plates from the cabinets to place them on the small dinner table. 

The serving dish needed for the stew sat at the very top shelf of the cupboard and your arms were simply too short to grab it. Your movements come to an abrupt halt the moment you feel Mingyu stand close behind you, one hand on your waist while the other hovers over you to grab the bowl. 

“Let me get it for you,” he grunts, taking the dish in his hand to ladle in the stew. 

Heart pounding in your chest, his breath tickles the back of your neck, a shiver running down your spine. Mingyu’s body encases yours as his arm comes back down to place the dish on the counter. 

Cursing yourself, you're thankful your back is turned to him or else he would be able to see the blush that’s starting to bloom on your cheeks. You mumble a small thanks before going to the table to resume setting the plates down for dinner. 

As you two eat in silence you think about all the moments you’ve had with Mingyu today. The time you slept on the couch until just now when he held you close. It didn’t even mean anything, it shouldn’t mean anything, yet it replays in your mind like clockwork. 

seven. 

The ringing of the doorbell brings you out of your thoughts, placing your book down, you head over to answer the door. It’s none other than your gossip of a neighbour Seungkwan. 

“Lovely evening Y/n-ie!” He smiles brightly, inviting himself into the foyer of your house before you could even protest. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes yet again, stepping aside to allow Seungkwan to go on with whatever it is that brought him barging into your home. 

“Good evening,” you respond curtly, suspicious as to what he could need at this hour. 

“Vernon and I have some friends over for a little nightcap and dessert, do you and Mingyu want to join?” he asks, eyes never leaving yours. 

To a normal and maybe less paranoid person, one would assume that Seungkwan is just being a kind neighbour, but you’re not so easily fooled. The glint in his eyes makes you realize there’s probably an ulterior motive to his ‘act of kindness’. 

“Oh no it’s okay, it would be rude to impose,” you try to play it off politely, but the fucker wouldn’t budge. 

“Nonsense! I’m inviting you and Mingyu because I want you two there,” he explains, waving his hand at you.

Before you can refuse him even more, you hear Mingyu coming out of his room to check up on why you’re taking so long at the front door. 

“Y/n, is everything alright?” he calls out for you as he walks towards the foyer. 

“Everything’s all fine and dandy Mingyu, I just came over to invite you and Y/n over for some drinks and dessert!” Seungkwan informs him before you can get another word out. 

“That sounds like fun actually, why don’t we go baby?” Mingyu turns over to you, his eyebrows raised, his smile tight as he tries to silently tell you that he’s putting an act up for Seungkwan.

Still flustered by the pet name, you cough out a yes. Turning over to Seungkwan to give him a fake smile. He returns your smile, eyes squinted, you can see how hard the gears are working in that brain of his. You know that he probably finds you two odd because of how awkward you and Mingyu are with each other, but you attempt to play it off as normal as possible. 

“It’s settled then! Let's go, can’t keep everyone else waiting,” he exclaims as he opens the door, gesturing for the two of you to walk out first before closing the door. 

Crossing over to Seungkwan’s side of the yard, he opens the door for the two of you like the perfect host that you figured he would be. You cannot deny that his extroverted persona allows him to be so persuasive, but you can’t get over the fact that he’s a little too curious. 

“The newlyweds are here!” he calls out and five heads whip over to stare at you and Mingyu standing awkwardly in the foyer of their home. 

Mingyu grasps your hand in his, his palms rough, probably from all the work he does in the yard. Making your way over to the couch, a man with long hair gets up to pour you two drinks. This is the most that you two have come into contact with each other consciously if you don’t count the time on the couch. 

A part of you wonders if Mingyu realizes what happened this morning, but you’re too embarrassed to bring it up. So you’ll leave it and hope he doesn’t remember you two squeezed so intimately on the living room sofa. 

“Everyone, this is Y/n and Mingyu, they moved into the house beside ours a couple of weeks ago,” he introduces the two of you. 

As the two of you say your hello’s Mingyu pulls over to sit beside him on the couch, his arm wrapped around your waist. The blush on your cheeks stays permanently as you’re practically sitting on his lap. You try not to blow your cover but it’s hard with so many people's eyes on you. 

“You both already know Vernon-ie, the one grabbing your drinks is Jeonghan and that’s his wife, Valerie,” Seungkwan gets you two acquainted with the couple before moving on. “That’s Joshua and Maren, his wife.” 

“Nice to meet you! I’m Valerie but you can just call me Val,” the woman with brownish black hair smiles at you, and you can only nod, still overwhelmed with the amount of people you just met, “So why did you guys choose to live in Bridgewater?” 

“We thought it would be a nice place to live, I work from home and Mingyu is currently taking a break. The first time we saw the listing, we knew it was going to be our forever home,” you lie straight through your teeth. 

There's a twinge of guilt that stirs at the pit of your stomach, you feel bad for lying to these people because of how kind they all looked. You even felt bad for lying to Seungkwan, albeit he can be a nosy little shit but at least he’s nice enough to introduce you to his friends.

“If you don’t mind me asking where did you and Mingyu meet?” Maren, the woman sitting beside Joshua asks with a curious sparkle in her eyes. 

You almost choke on your drink, eyes wide because you were not prepared for all these questions thrown at you. Thankfully Mingyu took the lead this time, his thumb rubbing soothing circles where he had his hand placed on your waist. 

“We met through a mutual friend, we were in university at the time,” he smiles warmly and Maren listens intently, hanging onto Mingyu’s every word. “The moment I saw her I knew I was going to marry her.” 

Mingyu turns to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head, and your cheeks heat up for what feels like the millionth time today. Even though his acting this way with you is all a facade your heart can’t help but skip a beat. 

“What! That’s so cute,” Maren gushes before glaring at her husband before hitting his arm jokingly. “Why can’t you say cheesy stuff like that?” 

Joshua’s eyes go wide and he can’t help but stutter. “Bro you’re making the rest of us look really bad right now.” 

Mingyu barks out a laugh and just shrugs nonchalantly knowing that no one is immune to his charms. Even if all of this is a lie, he can’t help but play into the sappy newly-wed trope with you, and it doesn't help that he finds you so caring and beautiful too. There’s something about the way you lean into him on the couch and the soft smile you give him while talking about your “forever home”, you make it easy for him to imagine fake scenarios of how you two met. 

“What university did you two go to?” Jeonghan pipes up from his seat, his arm wrapping around Val as he sips on his glass of bourbon. 

“I went to Yonsei, I majored in statistics. Mingyu and I met at a club with our mutual friends,” you try not to sound too nervous while you piggyback off of Mingyu’s lie. 

The back of your neck feels hot from having everyone inquire about your history with Mingyu, and it doesn’t help that your ‘husband’’s sitting so close to you, his body heat transferring over to you. At least it wasn’t a complete lie, you did go to Yonsei and you majored in stats; just way before you met both Seungcheol and Mingyu. 

“What about you Mingyu?” Jeonghan moves on to him, and he perks up in his seat, mouth full of the cheesecake that Seungkwan made. The food fills his cheeks slightly and you giggle at how much he resembles a chipmunk. 

“I went to SNU, and majored in business,” he states after swallowing his dessert and clearing his throat. 

“Okay, enough with the interrogation. Can we talk about something else?” Vernon interrupts, obviously feeling bad for the fact that the rest of them have been asking you two questions for the majority of the night. 

The rest of the group laughs, probably because they know that Vernon doesn’t talk unless he’s prompted to. Although you don’t know him very well you could tell that he was more of a listening type. It makes sense that he and Seungkwan are together, he does enough talking for the both of them. 

You were more surprised by Mingyu’s answer though, you didn’t know that he went to SNU, if that was even the truth. Although he does look like the business type. There was something about him that exudes the energy of a CEO or a man who’s just good at making connections. He’s able to catch people's attention, his words carry the weight of someone who isn’t afraid to speak out loud. 

With the way he talked to Seungkwan’s friends tonight, you realized how well-articulated he is, and the fact that he’s able to get people to listen to what he has to say. Although he’s a little goofy, if you didn’t know him you would’ve assumed he’s someone important just by how he carries himself outside of the house. There’s a swell of pride within you when you watch him talk about your ‘past’, and for some reason, you don’t mind it. If anything, you’re looking forward to more moments like this. 

…

The rest of the evening went along smoothly after that, and by the time everyone was ready to leave it was nearing one in the morning. You helped Seungkwan clean up in the kitchen, putting away the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The two of you were quiet for a bit, only talking when you asked him about what goes where. 

A part of you felt bad for being so curt with Seungkwan in the beginning. Maybe you were wrong about him and he just likes to be a nosy nieghbour, maybe it’s his way of making friends. You can’t help but be guarded due to your past and you misjudged him too quickly. 

Maybe it was the glasses of wine you had or the fact that you saw a different version of him. But there’s a lovable side to him, and also a side that doesn’t mind embarrassing himself a little to get a laugh out of his friends. 

“I want to thank you for inviting me and Mingyu tonight, all of our friends are in the city so we don’t get to see them often,” you confessed. “It’s nice to have someone else to talk to other than Mingyu or Norbert.” 

He turns to you with a genuine smile, and you notice that maybe that glint in his eyes is permanent, a glint that shows his happy demeanor and not the type that’s meant to show his mischievousness. 

“I’m glad you had fun because you’ll be invited to things like these from now on,” he expresses, his smile reaching his eyes now. 

“I appreciate it, Mingyu needs more friends in the neighbourhood, ones that are his age and don’t constantly drool over him,” you roll your eyes, recalling all the aunties who stroll past your front yard daily. 

“I can be his friend but I can’t promise I won’t drool over him,” he giggles, causing you to slap his arm playfully. 

“Hey! Leave my husband alone, you have your own. Don't get greedy now,” you feign anger at him, glaring at him before bursting out laughing. 

Mingyu walks into the kitchen, handing over the rest of the dishes that were left in the living room. His eyes dart back and forth between you as he realizes how much closer you two have gotten tonight. 

“Thank you, Gyu, if you ever get tired of being bossed around by Y/n you can always live with me and Nonie,” Seungkwan giggles as he calls him by his nickname, giving his large bicep a squeeze. 

You gasp at how forward Seungkwan is, your hand placed over your chest as you pretend to be offended by his words. He only glances back at you to stick his tongue out. 

“You’re so childish, he’s my husband,” you attested, pulling Mingyu by his arm so he could stand closer to you. “And I’m not bossy, Mingyu just enjoys doing housework!” 

Mingyu is even more confused now, but he cracks a smile when he sees how playful you’ve become. He concludes that maybe you just had a little more to drink than normal and goes along with you and Seungkwan’s teasing. 

“Woah that’s enough you two, there’s enough Mingyu for everyone,” he laughs and you give him a sour look. He was obviously feeling himself too much in that moment, but you can’t help but chuckle at how cocky he sounds. 

“Let’s go home Gyu, before Seungkwan decides to hold you hostage.” you huff emphasizing his nickname before you drag him over to the front door. “Bye Seungkwan, I already know I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Waving goodbye to Kwan, you pass Vernon on your way as he sits on the couch scrolling on his phone while the two other couples mingle amongst themselves. 

“Bye everyone, it was nice meeting you, but it’s way past her bedtime,” Mingyu muses, motioning over to you. Your eyes feel droopy and you were practically hanging off of Mingyu’s body as he held you by the waist. 

They all say their goodbyes to the two of you with promises to meet soon again. Mingyu guides you through the front door and across the green grassed lawn back to your place. 

The time you spent with everyone tonight allowed you to recognize that maybe it isn’t so bad living here. Especially if you’ll be able to talk to them more often. No one but Mingyu knows about your past, and that reassures you to start new friendships, even though they’re temporary.

eight.

The next morning you woke up to your phone ringing incessantly, to the point you almost threw it across your room. It wasn’t until you read the name “Jihoon” flashing across the screen, causing you to fully wake up from what feels like a hundred years' worth of sleep. You silently promised yourself to remind Mingyu to not let you drink so much wine at Seungkwan’s house again. 

“Jihoon? Is everything alright? You usually check up on us in the evening,” you stammered, sleep still evident in your voice. 

“Y/n, hey sorry to call so early but…they’ve located Seungcheol,” he sighs, the news of his whereabouts hanging in the air. 

Gulping nervously, your palms sweat. The way Jihoon sounded a little apprehensive made you feel uncertainty brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

“Go on.” 

“He used a burner to call a friend of his I’m guessing, but we were able to ping it and he’s in the town next to yours.”

“What?!” Now you’re fully freaking out, pushing your comforter to go and find Mingyu. 

“I’m really sorry Y/n,” Jihoon sounds just as stressed as you are. 

Searching around the house you see him sitting on the sofa with Norbert beside him, they’re watching more episodes of Bluey, but he pauses the show after noticing the panicked look on your face. You go to sit beside him putting your phone on speaker so the both of you can hear what Jihoon has to say. 

“You’re on speaker, Mingyu’s right beside me,” you mention before allowing him to continue. 

His sigh is audible through the speakers of your phone, and your blood pressure rises. If Jihoon is this worried then you should probably just be as worried. 

“They found his location to be at a motel in the next town over, we don’t know how he found out but he might be looking for you two,” he explains carefully. “I’m sending over another Marshall officer to watch over you two while we continue to track Seungcheol. You two should be safe with him but try not to leave the neighbourhood for now, it could get dangerous if he ends up seeing either of you.” 

“Okay got it, thank you Jihoon,” Mingyu replies, his hand subconsciously placed over yours as you two bear the news of your very dangerous ex potentially on the hunt for you two. 

Jihoon gives you two his regards before he hangs up, probably too busy to linger on the phone for any longer. 

Giving Mingyu a nervous look, he can tell how hard this information is for you to handle. After a month of being here in what felt like a sanctuary from the dangers of the outside world, you’re pulled back into reality. You’re reminded of why you’re really here, more scared than ever. 

The tears start to fall before you even realize and Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, instead, he pulls you into your arms and tries to comfort you as much as possible. Even though he’s just as scared as you are, he’s determined to protect you, to protect his home, even Norbert. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he whispers into your ear as you cry into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt. 

“You did nothing wrong, Mingyu,” you blabber as his hand rubs your back, trying to console your sobs. “I’m just so scared, what if he hurts us? What if you get hurt? I wouldn’t be able to handle it.” 

“Hey hey, it’s okay, I got you, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Don’t forget where I came from before all this,” he reassures you, pulling you back to look you in your eyes with a solemn stare. “He’s not going to touch even a single hair on you, or Nobert.” 

You giggle a little at the fact that he’s always so inclusive to the cat who’s a bitch to him but you’re happy to know that he’s willing to protect all of you. He laughs with you, wiping away the tears that have fallen from your eyes, his touch as gentle as a mouse despite how large his hands are. 

“You’re the best fake husband, I hope you know that,” you mumble as you go back into his embrace. “I know I haven’t said it yet, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.” 

“Thank you Y/n, you’re the best fake wife too,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head just like he did last night. 

Except this time there’s no one to fool, there’s no one to lie to. It’s just the two of you, and the subtle meaning behind his affection makes you wish that it was Mingyu you fell for all those years ago instead. 

…

Jihoon: I have an officer who’ll be patrolling the area, his name is Jun Wen. Here’s his badge number: ###### and picture. Just in case someone tries to come and impersonate him, also don’t mind if he’s a little weird, that's just how he is; and yes, he knows what he’s doing so don’t worry. You’re in safe hands. 

An eyebrow quirks up as you read the last part of his text wondering what he meant about “weird”. As if on cue, the sound of the doorbell reverberates throughout your house.  That must be him, you thought to yourself. 

Mingyu leaves his spot on the couch and goes to get the door. He's become extra protective of you since the call you had with Jihoon this morning. It allows you to relax a little knowing he’ll be the one to answer the door from now on. 

“Uh, Y/n? Why’s there some guy meowing at Norbert on our front porch?” Mingyu asks you with a puzzled expression on his face. 

“Huh?” you’re just as confused as he is, but you walk over to Mingyu with your phone in hand regardless. 

Looking down at the picture Jihoon sent and back at the man squatted beside Norbet, you realize this is what Jihoon meant about him being weird. From the picture that was sent, he looks like a perfectly normal guy, maybe he just really likes cats? You wondered to yourself.

“Oh that’s Jun, the guy Jihoon sent over,” you mumble, showing Mingyu the picture on your phone. 

“Huh,” Mingyu says, dumbfounded. 

Opening the door you don’t say anything, just watching the man named Jun make noises at your cat, who looks disgruntled and very annoyed at the random human disturbing his sleep. He’s dressed in normal clothing instead of a uniform, probably so that the neighbours don’t ask any questions. 

“Mah-ow, mahhh-owww,” Jun keeps on making weird noises, blissfully unaware of the two of you staring at him from the now-opened front door. 

“Uh excuse me, sir, what are you doing?” you call out to him, the confusion still very clear on your face. 

Norbert hears your voice, ears perking up before he slips past Mingyu’s legs to go back into the house. His little claws clack against the hardwood as he makes his way onto the couch to continue with his afternoon nap. 

“Aw man, you guys scared the cat away,” he sighs animatedly before standing up to greet the two of you with his hand out to shake. “Hi, my name’s Jun, I’ll make sure bad guys won’t come and attack.” 

You and Mingyu exchange looks before looking back at Jun, then back at each other again. This is definitely not the type of guy you were expecting, but Jihoon trusts him, and you trust Jihoon’s judgment. 

“We didn’t-uh, never mind, anyways I’m Y/n, this is Mingyu,” you start to explain that you're not the one to scare Norbet away, but you quickly change your mind. Instead, you return his handshake with a curt smile. 

“Well, I'll just be patrolling around the neighbourhood, you’ll see me parked a few houses down once in a while. If you need anything, here’s my number.” He hands you his card which is filled with doodles of cats. 

He really does like cats, you confirm. 

He walks away with a wave before going back into his car and driving off. Mingyu bursts out laughing, hands clutching his stomach before he sighs, wiping off fake tears from his eyes. 

“That’s the guy that’s going to be helping us? Really?” he chuckles, looking at you like you’d know the answer to Jun’s odd behaviour. 

“Hey, don’t ask me, ask Jihoon,” you slap his arm playfully before laughing with him. 

“Well, hopefully, nothing bad happens from now on, I honestly think we could manage without a bodyguard of sorts, or whatever he is,” Mingyu snorts, off put by Jun’s personality. 

“Jihoon appointed him, so I’m sure he’s well trained. He wouldn’t have sent him over otherwise,” you rationalize, not wanting to doubt the person who’s meant to be protecting you from Seungcheol. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s just go inside, I’ll make us kimchi pancakes,” Mingyu beckons, and you close the door behind you before following him to the kitchen. 

Jun being there just gives you an extra layer of reassurance, and you know Mingyu is just as capable, but it doesn’t hurt to have backup. Seungcheol is a smart man, and you’re not sure what tricks he has up his sleeve, so it’s better to be safe than sorry. 

…

“Okay so now we just have to mix the pajeon mix with the kimchi,” Mingyu instructs, once again wearing his pink ruffled apron, but this time you’re wearing a matching one. 

With your hair tied up, and hands messy with kimchi pancake mix, you follow every instruction that Mingyu gives you. It was his idea to teach you to cook, especially because he knows you’re not well-versed in the kitchen. 

“Now what?” you ask, looking up at him for guidance, but before you can instruct him you spot the flour splattered on his nose. “Hey, you’ve got a little bit of… lemme just—” 

Not realizing your hands were covered in the wet batter you end up getting the mixture all over his face too. Gasping at what you’ve just done, Mingyu looks at you with wide eyes before taking some of the batter in the bowl and smearing it on your face. 

“Hey! I didn’t mean to, why’d you do that?” you let out a boisterous laugh, running away from him before he could catch you again. 

“I know you did that on purpose!” he yells out, chasing you around the kitchen island in circles. 

“No, I didn’t! Stop chasing me!” you squeal as he starts to close the distance between you two. 

“Liar, I’m getting my revenge!” he laughs along with you, hot on your trail. 

The two of you run in circles for a while till you have to catch your breath, causing you to slow down. Mingyu takes this opportunity to finally be able to get a hold of you, wrapping his hands around your waist with little effort before placing you on the counter. 

“Say your final words now,” he fakes a serious tone, his crinkled as he tries to hold back his laughter. 

Before you can get another word in he tickles your sides causing you to squirm against him as your back hits the counter. The bowl filled with kimchi pancake mix is long forgotten, half empty because of how much of it got onto both your clothes. 

“Ok stop! I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, I promise,” your words getting cut off by your laughter, Mingyu not relinquishing his hold on you. 

He stops for a moment, his finger pointed at you, “You promise?” 

You nod innocently, his upper body flushed against yours, legs intertwined at his waist as he pins you down to the counter with his other hand. 

“Not!” you bite the finger pointed at you, but Mingyu’s reflexes are too fast, his large hands pinning your wrists to the counter once more. 

The two of you have calmed down considerably since then, both tired from running around the kitchen. Your laboured breaths are the only thing that can be heard within the confines of your home. Mingyu’s face is dangerously close to yours, and if you leaned forward your lips would touch. 

The pounding in your chest doesn’t subside and Mingyu’s eyes don’t leave yours. His strong arms are perfectly within your line of sight, and at this moment you feel like you and Mingyu are the only people in the whole world. There are no fears or doubts, no scary ex hunting you down. Just you and Mingyu. 

Without even thinking, you both lean forward and capture each other’s lips in a soft kiss. You can tell he’s unsure at first, his hands loosening around your wrists, being as careful with you as he was this morning when he wiped away your tears. But you want more. 

Pressing your lips against his with more vigour, your legs wrap around his waist to pull his pelvis closer to yours. A grunt leaves Mingyu’s lips, he takes this action as a signal to kiss you more passionately. His tongue laps against yours, his hands lifting you so you’re both upright. 

“Mingyu,” you whimper, feeling the wet open-mouthed kisses he begins to press against your neck. 

Before you can get any further, a cat meows beneath the two of you, his head turned in confusion. You pull away from him first, staring at your menacing cat, Fucking Norbert, you curse him out in your head before hopping off the counter and dusting yourself off. 

“I’m gonna go shower, then we can go back to making the pancakes,” you smile awkwardly up at Mingyu. 

“Oh okay, me too, yeah.” He scratches the back of his head. 

Before you head to the washroom in your room you turn around once more and give Mingyu a quick peck on the lips. His arms wrap around your waist, trying to deepen the kiss once more. But you stop him before he can go any further, laughing at how needy he has gotten. 

“Let’s do that more often,” you giggle before running off to the washroom. 

Mingyu sighs with content, his cheeks rosy from your flirting. With you gone, he sticks his tongue at Norbert in frustration. What a cockblock, he says to himself in his head. Norbert meows in response before walking back to his spot on the couch. 

No one’s ever made Mingyu feel the way you just did. At that moment he realized how fucked he is, you’re only here with him for the next eleven months, then what? Do you two go on with your lives separately? And you two are supposed to just forget everything? The more he thinks about it, the more determined he is to stay. The more determined he becomes to make you his and to give you the life you deserve. 

The love you deserve. 

nine. 

“Afternoon, Jun!” you wave from the porch as you see his car approaching your driveway, his windows down, hair flowing through the wind. 

He looks so carefree despite how important his job is, and it makes you a little envious of his lighthearted personality. He must have a happy life out of work because you swear no one is this lax with a job like his. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Y/n,” he gives you a big smile, his little satchel wrapped around him as he makes his way over to you. 

It’s been about a week since Jun has been patrolling the nieghbourhood, and Seungkwan’s asked a few questions about the cute but odd guy frequenting your house. The quickest lie that you could come up with was that he’s your best friend visiting from the city. You told him that he works at the home office and that he comes over from time to time to work on another project with you. 

After that day, Seungkwan stopped asking so many questions, leaving you alone to sit and read with Vernon on their porch.

“Do you want to have lunch with me and Mingyu?” you ask him. “He made enough that I know we would have leftovers otherwise.” 

“My wife packs my lunch actually and she doesn’t like it when I come home with a full container.” He shrugs, taking out the cutely wrapped rilakkuma bento box from his satchel. 

“What! That’s so cute, I bet you love her lunch boxes,” you giggle, marveling at how much care his wife had gone into packing him food for the day. 

He rubs the back of his neck as he lets out a bashful laugh, his cheeks turning red at the mention of his wife. 

“Well she’s the only one whose food tastes exactly like my mom’s, maybe I’ll bring her around so you can meet her!” Jun’s eyes shine as he talks about his wife, obviously, head over heels for her. 

You find it endearing how much his demeanor changes from silly Jun to an in-love Jun. The tight feeling in your chest doesn’t subside as you watch how he goes on about her, and their cats Open, Close, and Lock. It makes you wonder if anyone would talk about you that way, even when you’re not there, or when it’s not some lie to tell to your neighbours and their friends.  

“That’s so sweet Jun, what’s her name?” you ask, wondering if you could make a new friend out of her too. 

“June!” he replies, his smile as bright as the afternoon sun. 

“Her name is also June?” you try to get more clarification on her name. 

As if Jun himself couldn’t get any weirder, he has three cats named Open, Close, and Lock, as well as a wife with the same name as him. You try to process all this information but you feel like it’s too early in the day to be thinking so hard. 

“Yeah! I’m Jun without an E and she’s June with an E,” he answers proudly. 

You leave the Jun lore for another time, instead asking him about other things going on in his life. He’s not as bad as you thought he would be, and you find that he’s actually very fun to talk to. Jun’s actions are always so animated, using his hands a lot while he’s talking. It seems like you’ve made another friend yet again. 

As you two make your way to the kitchen, Mingyu can hear your laughter ring through his ears. Two sets of footsteps make their way over to him, he knows Jun is just here because it’s his job but can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. 

“Hey Jun,” Mingyu greets him flatly, not really into the fact that he’s the reason his wife is laughing so hard right now. 

He has no right to feel jealous but he can’t help it, especially after the kiss you two shared the other day. The two of you haven’t gotten that intimate since that kiss in the kitchen and even though he wants it to happen again, it has to be on your terms. Even though he craves you with each waking hour, he wants to make sure he isn’t overstepping any boundaries. 

“Jun is going to eat with us for lunch, is that okay?” You go up to him, placing a hand on his bicep before giving it a squeeze.

Mingyu’s cheeks flush at your small gesture of affection, his eyes moving from where your hand is placed to your eyes. Looking up at him with doe eyes, you smile at him. Even though he doesn’t like the idea of you and Jun laughing together, he could never say no to you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he returns your smile and you whisper a small thank you before placing a kiss on his cheek, walking away to watch T.V. with Jun on the couch. 

He stands at the stove, a pan of grilled chicken to pair with your salads. A hand comes up to touch the cheek that you kissed, he smiles to himself as he continues to cook lunch for you two. 

It seems as though every day he spends with you, the harder he’s falling. He can’t help it, especially when you’re much more affectionate with him now. 

He fantasizes about the day you decide to no longer sleep in separate rooms across the hall from each other, and getting to wake up to you and your beautiful face every morning.  He watches you laugh with Jun in the living room and silently wishes that you’ll fall as hard as he has.

ten.

With every passing day, the more you worry about Seungcheol’s whereabouts. You’re safe here, and people are looking over you but you can’t help but be paranoid. You wonder if you’re going to have to live every day in fear. But thankfully, with Mingyu beside you, it becomes a little more bearable. 

It wasn’t until today that you realized that you could finally breathe right. You awoke to another call from Jihoon, who seems to only call about important matters early in the morning. He suggests that you get Mingyu, wanting both of you to be on the call. 

Your mind is spiraling. The last time Jihoon called he had given you bad news. 

“What’s wrong Jihoon?” you ask him apprehensively, not sure if you’re mentally prepared to hear what he has to say. 

Both you and Mingyu sat on the couch with bated breaths, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Mingyu has an arm around you, your legs on top of his as he holds you close. He didn’t even have to say anything, his silence was enough to indicate how nervous he was. 

“Guys, don’t be so nervous, now I’m getting nervous!” he sighs. 

“I can’t take this, just say it already, you’re killing me over here Ji,” Mingyu whines, squeezing you a little tighter to soothe his nerves. 

“Well, we found him. Jun was able to put him in custody and he’s been at the station for a couple of hours now,” he finally reveals, hearing the two of you squeal like a bunch of school girls over the speakers. “I know you don’t want to see him Y/n, but if you want you can come down and talk to him. Closure and shit.” 

Mingyu looks over at you the moment Jihoon mentions you visiting your ex, and he can practically see the gears turning in your head. To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re ready to face him, but a part of you is curious about what he’s like now. 

“Okay, I’ll visit him, but only if Mingyu comes with me,” you mutter, playing with the hem of Mingyu’s shirt absentmindedly. 

You think of all the scenarios that could play out the moment you meet with Seungcheol again, but you know that if you want to shed the rest of your old self. You need to finally face him and gain the closure you deserve. 

And the closure that Seungcheol deserves too. 

…

For the rest of the day, you and Mingyu have a little self-care night before your confrontation with Seungcheol. Your nerves are at an all-time high, even Norbert could tell you were anxious; constantly staying by your side, even when you were showering, working, or eating. 

You weren’t sure what you were going to say to Seungcheol when you see him, or how you’re going to even feel. It’s been years since you’ve faced him, you just know that if Mingyu is there everything will be alright. 

For some reason, Mingyu’s presence always calms you down. His comforting words and strong demeanor help you stay afloat in your deep sea of worries. Just like Norbert, you don’t think he realizes these past few months with him have helped you overcome a lot of your paranoia. The more you got to know him, the more you recognized how soft and loving he really is, despite his past. 

“You have to stay still, okay?” you mumble as you continue to slather the face mask all over Mingyu’s skin. 

Sat on top of the bathroom counter, Mingyu stood between your legs as you concentrated on the task at hand. His own hands placed on the tops of your thighs as he waited patiently for you to finish. 

When he proposed a self-care night, you didn’t think he’d agree to go as far as doing skin care with you. Obviously, you were very wrong, and it kind of warms your heart that he’s willing to do even something as silly as this and then watch Bluey with you on the couch. 

“Y/n, it tickles,” he whines, hands gripping harder on your thighs as he fights the urge to laugh. 

“Do not laugh! You’ll ruin it,” you try not to giggle, your own face mask starting to crack. 

“Okay, sorry but you look so silly right now,” he chuckles, his eyes trained on you. 

Even with your hair tied up and a fluffy bunny-ear face wash headband, he still finds you beautiful. It doesn't matter to him what you look like, just the fact that you’re here, with him, it’s all he needs to be happy. 

“Done!” you flash a proud smile before hopping off the counter. 

Before you can leave the bathroom, Mingyu grabs your wrist and turns you around till you're flush with his chest. You raise an eyebrow at him, unsure of what he’s plotting right now. Instead of saying anything more he just places a peck on your lips before whispering a small “thank you”, letting you two carry on with your night. 

You just laugh and shake your head at him before heading over to the couch to watch more episodes of Bluey. Norbert claims his rightful spot beside you while Mingyu sits on your other side. 

Tomorrow may be scary and you have a lot of thoughts running through your head, but spending the night peacefully with Mingyu and Norbert silences your worries enough to relax in the meantime. What you don’t expect is the constant thought of wondering if this is what your life would be like every day if you decide to stay in Bridgewater after the year is over. 

eleven.

The car ride to the police station is quiet. Mingyu’s hand is in yours as he tries to console your overthinking. There isn’t much he can say to help you at this moment, but the least he can do is show you that he’s here. He doesn’t want to say anything that could potentially overwhelm you, he just wants to show you how much he cares. 

By the time the car reaches the station, your palms are drenched in sweat, but you want to stay strong. You want Seungcheol to know how happy you are now, without him. You want him to see how different you are now after all these years, how you’re better off without his tainted love. 

“Y/n, Mingyu,” Jihoon greets you at the door, nodding to you. 

The ever so stoic Jihoon. He’s a man of very few words but you could tell that he was rooting for you. 

The walk over to where Seungcheol was being interrogated felt longer than normal, but in reality, it only took a few seconds to reach the door. Jihoon gives you a look before opening the door, one that’s silently asking you if you’re sure. You only nod with a determined gleam in your eyes, allowing him to unlock the door and letting you see your ex after so many years. 

His black hair looks the same it did all that time ago, except it was longer now and a little messy from him running his fingers through it. You could tell he was exhausted, and it broke your heart a little. 

There are feelings of anger resurfacing the moment your eyes lock with his, but also feelings of sorrow and pity. You’re reminded of all the memories you made with him, the happiness, the sadness, and the solace in between. But you grieved the loss of your love with him a long time ago, and even though there are fragments of those feelings now, it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. 

“Y/n,” Seungcheol’s voice cracks upon seeing you. 

Your chest burns and it feels like all the air in your lungs has dissipated. There’s a dullness to his gaze, almost like he’s a mere shell of the person he used to be. You should’ve known that Seungcheol lost his soul all those years ago when he decided to sell it for never-ending wealth. But here he is, in front of you: defeated, tired, heartbroken. There’s a small part of you that will always care for him, yet you know that you’ll never love him the way you used to. 

“Cheol,” you whisper, your back against the door, your body not wanting to get any closer to him than you have to.

“Y/n, please I never wanted us to end up this way, please. Please,” he tries to beg, to stand up, but his hands are handcuffed to the table. His wrists have turned red from trying to escape from his chains. It’s no use, he won’t ever be able to get as close as he is now. 

A single tear falls from your eyes watching his desperate attempts to reach you. But the room feels far too big now like the two of you are miles apart. So you stay put and tell him what you’ve been wanting to say after so many years.

“You dug your own grave, Seungcheol. I tried, I did. But how could you keep all that information from me? Selling illegal weapons may be one thing, but involving all those innocent people? Did you lose your damn mind? I couldn’t live with myself knowing how many people you hurt. Then you turned to drug trafficking? Did you really think I could marry someone like that?” you raise your voice at the end. 

Your chest is heaving from not taking a single breath to stop, to think, just saying whatever your heart is telling you to say. 

“Y/n, please! Hear me out, I want to make it work-” he begs and begs, but you cut him off.  

“There’s nothing to work out.”  

“I just wanted to have a secure future with you, I was going to quit after our wedding, please you have to believe me,” he keeps going, but you don’t want to hear it anymore. 

You scoff at his attempt to justify his actions, but you know better. The man in front of you will say anything to get you back into his life, but you don’t buy his bullshit. The more money he earned, the greedier he got, and the higher his ambitions got, he wasn't the man he was when you first met him. The constant reminder of him leading a dark path keeps you grounded. 

“You lost me the moment you decided to hurt people who don’t deserve it.” Your voice is stern, you don’t want to continue to drag this out knowing all he’s going to do is plead for you to come back to him. 

“Y/n please, I can’t live without you, even after all these years, I can’t sleep, nothing. I need you.” The tears begin to leave his eyes, but you do your best to stay strong. 

All you can do is shake your head at him, his words going through one ear and out the other. His sobs and pleading shake you to your core, but it doesn’t hurt to hear after knowing all the evil things he’s done. 

“But I don’t need you, I’m happy, I’m in love again. I have friends that care about me,” you countered.

 You're breathing heavily, trying to stay as calm as possible. You had no more tears left to shed for him. 

“It’s Mingyu isn’t it?” he asks, but you don’t give him any indication that his prediction is correct. 

Your heartbeat picks up at the mention of Mingyu’s name, and you’re not sure how Seungcheol found out about the two of you. At this point you don’t even care, because the happiness you deserve is waiting for you outside the very door you stand against. No one will get in the way of the reason why you’re able to breathe right again, especially not Seungcheol.

“That doesn't matter,” you defended, not wanting to speak to him for any longer. 

“But it does. Just tell me it’s not Mingyu, anyone but him please,” he continues to cry, the rattling of his handcuffs burning your eardrums. 

You’ve gotten your closure, the figurative shackles that Seungcheol had you in are finally broken. There’s a sense of relief to being able to face him without completely breaking down. Your heart no longer belongs to him, and neither do your fearful thoughts. 

“I don’t owe you anything anymore Seungcheol. Goodbye.” You end the conversation, turning around to close the door without looking back. 

His pleading can be heard through the metal, but you don’t dare turn back, you don’t dare to let him have his hold on you anymore. Closing the door of the interrogation room felt like closing the door to a chapter of life. And finally, after everything that has happened, you feel free. 

“You’re in love with me?” Mingyu’s voice is heard through all the commotion. 

He stands there with a hopeful look in his eyes, a small smile dancing along his lips. You roll your eyes at him as if it wasn’t already obvious how much you care for your fake husband. 

Walking up to him, you engulf him in a tight hug, your head buried in his chest as tears of relief leave your eyes. 

“Of course I’m in love with you, you big idiot,” you laugh, holding him tighter, so tight that you’re sure that he’ll never leave your side, even if he wanted to. 

twelve. 

The drive back to the house felt like a breath of fresh air. Wind blowing through your hair with the windows rolled down, Mingyu’s hand on your thigh, music blasting through the speakers. It felt like freedom. 

“Can I hear you say it again?” Mingyu turns to you while he’s stopped at a red light, his puppy-dog eyes are too cute to resist. 

“I love you,” you smile at him, placing your hand on top of his. 

The glistening in his eyes looked like it came straight out of a movie, they glittered in the sunlight, a reflection of his very being. 

“I love you too, did you know that?” he blushes, giving you a sweet kiss before returning his attention to the road. 

The two of you stay quiet for the rest of that way back, savouring the sweet moment. You still can’t wrap your head around everything that has happened during your stay at Bridgewater, especially because you’ve somehow found love again. A love that’s sweet, one that doesn’t feel as worrisome. 

“Home sweet home!” Mingyu announces the moment the car rolls into the driveway. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts and Mingyu gets out to open the door for you. The second the door closes he cages you between him and the side of the car. His lips softly hit yours and you moan out of surprise. The kiss is slow and sweet, and butterflies erupt in your stomach immediately. 

You haven’t kissed him properly since that day in the kitchen but you don’t mind the wait. If anything it causes you to feel hungry for more. Mingyu’s hands on your waist are pulling you tighter with each passing second, but making out in the middle of your driveway, where everyone in the neighbourhood can see, pulls you out of your lustful thoughts. 

“Let’s go inside?” You detach your lips from his, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him towards the front door. 

Once you two are inside, without any potential prying eyes you pull him back into a kiss. It’s sloppy and filled with more passion than the previous times you two were this close. You don’t want to stop feeling him against you. The firm grip he has on your waist travels under your shirt, his hands against your bare skin leaving a burning sensation in the best way. 

There’s a silent agreement between the two of you. You both know where this is heading but no one stops to take a break, to tell the other that it is time to let go. You continue to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue glide against his, your fingers running through his hair. It's addicting, Mingyu’s lips are intoxicating and all you want is to get lost in the arousal. 

“I wanna make you feel good, so good till all you can remember is me, no one else,” Mingyu mumbles against your neck, his lips trailing lower as you whimper in approval. “Tell me, is that what you want?” 

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes closed as you feel him lick and suck the skin on your collarbone.  

Backing away, you can see how the love and adoration in his eyes are tainted with hunger. The sight of him makes your stomach flip, there’s a darkness to his gaze and you gulp silently. Waiting for him to show you how badly he wants to fuck you, how badly he needs to see you whimper and moan for him. 

Without another word you bring him to your room, closing the door behind you so Norbert can’t interrupt like he did last time. 

The door is against your back once again and Mingyu towers over you, caging you with his body. His scent fills your senses, your knees going weak as he continues to stare at you with those hooded lids, his attention on you and you only. 

His hand trails against your jaw till he stops at your chin, tilting your face up so that your eyes are leveled with his. He licks his lips as he watches you, wanting nothing but to take you then and there. But he has so much planned, he can’t get too hasty, especially because the thought of you cumming for him over and over continues to plague his mind. 

“I want you to sit on the bed, and to be a good girl and take what I give you,” Mingyu mutters, his hand moving closer to your lips till his thumb pulls your bottom lip down. 

You don’t argue, moving away once again to do what he says. This is the Mingyu you used to know. The one who spent half his life in the mafia, the one who could command a whole room with a single word. 

Following behind you, he waits till you get comfortable on the bed before sitting down between your already spread legs. He captures you into a kiss once more, letting himself savour the taste of you. Your hands move across the expanse of his back, slowly lifting his shirt along the way and feeling his large muscles tense under your gentle fingers. 

“Fuck me, please,” you beg him, and your voice is strained, the words leaving your mouth in whimpers. 

Mingyu chuckles at your desperation as he removes the rest of his clothing, but your mind is buzzing like crazy. It’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with someone that you forgot how good it feels to be held, to be kissed. 

“Be patient baby, we’ll get to that eventually,” he grunts, lifting your shirt and removing the remainder of your clothes till you're bare. 

Marveling at your naked figure, Mingyu forces himself to stop drooling over how sexy you look in front of him. You’re so small compared to him, his large hands opening up your thighs to reveal your awaiting arousal. 

“You’re already fucking soaking,” he mutters as he prods with your folds. His fingers move gingerly as he teases you. 

His arms push your thighs till they’re flush with your stomach, giving him clear access to where you need him most. Trailing kisses along your inner thighs, your head hits the pillow as you moan out for him. You’re over-sensitive from not being touched by another person in so long, his lips leaving burning sensations on your skin. 

Your pussy is dripping on the sheets the moment he presses a kiss to your clit. Clenching around nothing, you continue to moan out his name, and it makes him smile against you. Hearing you call out for him is like music to his ears, your voice sweet like honey. 

“Keep doing that, please Mingyu,” you whine, your hands coiling around the strands of his hair, nails raking his scalp. 

Groaning against your mound, he continues to play with your clit. Licking and sucking it while his fingers enter your weeping hole. The sounds of his long digits moving in and out of you fill the room, and you can feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm. 

“Fuck, it’s so good,” you praise him, and it strokes his ego, his movements picking up in pace. 

The squelching noises only increase in volume, his fingers hitting that soft spot inside you that makes your legs shake and your vision goes white. Practically screaming his name, the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum against his mouth. His tongue moved against your slit to drink up your juices, wanting to feel you fill his mouth with your sweet nectar. 

His eyes remain trained on yours while he’s lying between your legs, you run your hands through his hair as you come down from your high. The words can’t seem to leave your lips and your mind is filled with euphoria. If he can do all that with just his mouth and fingers you wonder what will happen when he’s finally inside you. 

“God, you’re so needy. Probably haven’t been fucked properly in so long, huh baby?” he coos as he moves up your body, lips against your ear as he continues to mutter dirty words. 

“Need someone to take care of you? Is that what you need? Need your husband to fuck a baby into you,” he keeps going and your eyes roll back and he fondles your tits. 

“Yeah, you like that?” he chuckles, twisting at your hardened nipples as your pussy clenches at the thought of being filled with his cum. 

“You like it when I talk about fucking you till that tight little cunt of yours is stuffed full of my cum?” Mingyu’s mouth continues to spew words of breeding you, and his growing erection is harder to ignore. 

“I want it so bad, want you to fuck a baby in me, Gyu,” you sigh, your salacious moans bouncing off the walls as he flips you around. 

Ass in the air, he gives the supple skin a sharp slap and you shriek. But it feels so good, the sting of his large palm hitting you hard. He can see how much you’re enjoying it, kneading your full mounds as his head fills with thoughts of fucking you in this position. 

“Please just fuck me already, I wanna feel you inside me.” You’re weeping now, face smushed into the pillow. 

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks you, pulling you by your hips till your back is arched. 

The neediness inside you is at its highest point, and you can’t seem to form any words as you feel his fingers glide against your soaked hole. Moans can’t stop leaving your lips and you’re already sensitive from your first orgasm. 

Placing a pillow under your stomach, he continues to manhandle you into the position he wants you in. Face down, ass up, your legs are spread, and your wet entrance is all ready for him.  Mingyu grabs his hard cock, stroking it a few times before spitting on your cunt, and you jolt at the hot liquid hitting your folds. 

“Fuck, you’re tight, I should’ve prepped you more,” Mingyu groans, his length slowly forcing its way past your entrance. 

The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel him starting to fill you. The stretch is agonizing but the burn sends tingles of pleasure up your spine. It felt so fucking good having him inside you like this, your mind full of nothing but the shape of his cock. 

“I want it hard, fuck me hard,” you tell him, your voice shaking as he continues to enter you. 

“Okay baby, but just know I won’t be gentle anymore,” he warns you and maybe you shouldn’t have been so eager, but that primal part in you just wanted him so bad. 

Once he has himself fully sheathed in your heat, he pulls back until only the tip is left. You gasp at the sudden empty feeling, but you're quickly silenced when he dives back in. His hips slapping against your ass, his balls hitting your clit. Mingyu’s stamina is insanely high as he continues to thrust in and out of you. 

“Fuck, you’re so big, I-I can’t!” you cry out, your screams picking up in pitch till you're moaning like a porn star. 

“So fucking tight, baby you’re driving me crazy,” Mingyu continues to grunt, his movements not slowing down for even a second. 

His hands move to grip your hips tightly, he stops for a split second to stop his thrusts. You thought you were going to be able to catch your breath. But he just keeps surprising you. The hands that he placed on your hips tighten and he moves you up and down on his cock while he stays still. Using you like his personal sex doll, but fuck, it felt amazing. You love that he’s using you, placing your body in whatever position he wants to chase his own pleasure. 

“You’re so perfect, I could fuck this pussy till I’m empty,” he mutters, watching his dick disappear inside you. 

There's a white ring of arousal around the base of his length, and his mind goes blank. All he can do is continue to bounce you up and down his member till he can feel himself start to twitch inside you. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby you feel so good inside me,” you scream for him, loving the way the ridges of your walls continue to suck him up, your orgasm hitting you once again,

There's something so nasty about him using your body, and you’re enjoying all of it. You love how he’s just taking what he wants, yet he still knows how to make you cum. Your pussy is swollen from the beating it’s taking, but you want more. You want him to keep going till he has nothing left to give you. 

The feeling of Mingyu twitching inside your walls indicates that he’s close, and you continue to clench around him. Wanting to milk him of his seed, wanting to feel his cum hit your cervix and breed you. 

“Gonna cum inside you, okay baby?” he warns you before stilling his movements. 

His cock twitches again till you feel his hot white cum spurt inside your walls, flooding your cunt with his seed. Mingyu groans, watching the liquid fill you and breach past your tight hole till it gushes out. The sight is so unholy, so sinful but he can’t just stop there. No, he won’t stop till you’re stuffed properly. 

“M-mingyu, baby,” you whine, your body flopping onto the mattress as he lets you go. 

Your legs turn to jelly as you shake from how hard you came, your breathing labored. He turns you around so you're splayed out for him, prying your legs open to watch his cum fall out of your pussy in thick globs. It’s so mesmerizing, hypnotizing, he wants to see more of it. To fill you with more of his seed. 

“We’re not done,” he smiles as you cheekily and you laugh. 

“You want more after all of that?” you question him, your breathing still harsh from the previous round. 

“Baby, after all of that, I don’t think I can stop,” he mutters against your lips, and you nod, agreeing with his statement. 

He switches your positions, his back against the headboard while you sit on his lap. The refractory period doesn't seem to exist with Mingyu because his erection is standing proudly in front of you. 

“You wanna go again?” he asks you, one hand on your hip as the other rubs his cock as it glistens with a mixture of both of your arousals. 

“I want you to use me till you can’t anymore,” you lean over, whispering in his ear. 

“Careful, you might regret that later,” he mutters, a hand around your neck as he halts your movements.

Pulling him into a heated kiss, you position his length against your entrance, lifting your body till you can fully sink down on him. Even after the first round, your pussy still can’t get used to the stretch that his cock gives you. It's a delicious feeling, his length is so long and thick you can feel it in your stomach. 

“Ah!” you cry out, your head thrown back as you stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders. 

Mingyu moans back, mesmerized by the view of your tits bouncing up and down in front of his face. His cock disappeared inside you once more, the sight making him feral, hungry to see you filled to the brim with his semen. 

Your orgasm comes around faster this time and your walls convulse around him once more. The heat, the wetness, the silky feeling of your cunt makes Mingyu go delirious, thoughts only filled with you and you only. Stilling your hips, his own high follows yours shortly after, his cum hitting your insides till it covers his softening member all over again. 

You let out a puff of breath, leaning into his chest as your face rested in the crook of his neck. Mingyu rubs your back soothingly, his dick going soft and falling out of your entrance. Whimpering at the loss of him being inside you, you hold him tighter. The feelings of exhaustion are finally catching up to you, but you know you’ll have to clean up soon enough. 

“You know I love you, right?” he reminds you as he lifts you up and off the bed to head to the shower. You can only nod, your mind and body too tired to respond. 

Setting you on the counter, his back turns away from you while he prepares your bath, getting the water warm for you. You notice the large dragon tattoo that coils along his skin. It surprises you that you haven’t noticed it before, but the black ink on him is undeniably sexy. 

Once the water is warm enough, he carries you to the shower before cleaning you up properly. You love that he’s back to his soft and kind self, and it makes you fall for him even harder. The hard sex was so good but what’s important to you is the fact that he’s so keen on taking care of you after. 

Mingyu’s hand snakes around your waist as your head lays against his shoulder, pressing lazy kisses while you whisper words of gratitude. 

“Thank you, I love you too,” you mumble, adorning him with pecks along his warm tan skin. 

epilogue. 

“This whole fucking time,” Seungkwan stares at you with wide eyes, “I fucking KNEW it.” 

You scoff at him, he just had to be right about everything and it annoys you, but here you are again, in his home for drinks and dessert. 

“Sure you did, Kwannie,” you sigh, patting his shoulder. 

“I swear I did! Right, babe? They were suspicious from the start,” he continues to argue, roping in Vernon who gives him a shrug of his shoulders before returning his attention to his phone. 

It was time for you and Mingyu to break the news about your fake relationship with everyone. You felt bad for deceiving people, and now that you two were actually in love, it just felt right to put the fake marriage thing in the past. 

“Please, we weren’t that obvious,” you defend, not wanting to give Seungkwan the bragging rights to actually be right this whole time. 

Seungkwan just rolls his eyes at you before taking a sip of his wine. He didn’t feel like arguing with you anymore, he’s just happy that his suspicions have been correct this whole time. 

“Does this mean you’re going to leave soon?” He looks at you with desperate eyes, taking your hands in his. 

“Well, we’ve talked about it, and Mingyu and I have decided to stay,” you smile at him from where he sits across the room, talking about something unimportant with Jeonghan and Val. “So don’t worry, I’ll still be your neighbour. Bridgewater actually seems like the perfect place for us right now.” 

“Oh thank god! I don’t think I could live happily ever again if you moved away, Y/nie.” He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but laugh at his dramatics. 

Seungkwan may have started as a pestering neighbour, but you can’t help but feel grateful towards him. If it weren’t for his annoying attitude, you and Mingyu probably wouldn’t have tried so hard to pretend to be in love. You could say that Seungkwan was one the biggest reasons why you and Mingyu fell so hard for each other in the first place. 

…

A few days after solidifying your relationship with Mingyu, you two decided that it wouldn’t be too bad to stay here after all. Seungcheol was sentenced guilty during trial and Jihoon informed you that there's no more reason for you to be put into witness protection. Everything just seemed like it was all falling into place, and you’re happier than you have been in so long. 

Even Norbert has finally warmed up to Mingyu. Sometimes when your work day is over, you’ll spot them cuddling on the couch and watching Bluey together. He always talks to Norbert, asking him questions even though the cat can’t answer. It warms your heart knowing that the two beings that healed you from a world’s worth of hurt can get along. They both came into your life when you needed it most, and every day you're thankful that you’re surrounded by so much love. 

“Watching Bluey without me?” you ask out loud, your arms crossed as you pretend to be mad. 

“Baby! You’re done!” Mingyu practically flies off the couch to capture you in a bone-crushing hug. 

“You know you can come into my office when I’m working,” you laugh as you rub his back, savouring the feeling of his large and muscular arms holding you. 

“I know but I don’t want to distract you, even Norbert doesn't go in,” he mumbles, inhaling your scent as if he didn’t wake up beside you that very morning. 

“You’re silly, Mingyu,” you laugh, kissing his cheek. 

He blushes like a schoolgirl before giving you the biggest grin known to man. His eyes sparkling against the living room lighting, you can tell he’s head over heels for you. Mingyu isn’t afraid to show affection or to be vulnerable, he just wants to be with you, no matter how good or bad things get. 

“Can’t I just be happy my wife is off work?” He sighs lovingly, brushing your hair through his fingers, refusing to let you go. 

You roll your eyes at how cheesy he is, but he knows that you secretly love it. Especially since you act the same way with him whenever he goes out to run errands or when he tends to the garden. 

“Your wife is hungry and tired, can we make more kimchi pancakes please?” you ask with puppy dog eyes. 

Mingyu laughs at you before kissing your forehead, “Anything for the love of my life.” 

Blushing at his words, you follow him into the kitchen to make the kimchi pancakes you had asked for. Putting on his pink ruffle apron, he gets down to business, always wanting to cook the best food for you. 

Mingyu is satisfied knowing that he’s able to give you the life that you deserve. To love you on sunny days and even on rainy days. He’s never felt a love that was this secure, and he’s grateful that you feel the same way. 

As you watch Mingyu cook, you think back to the first day you moved to Bridgewater. You misjudged him that first day and you’re so glad that he proved you wrong. He has been nothing but amazing since then. He’s patient, and kind, and he loves you even when you’re irritated or in a bad mood. For someone who used to be a part of the mafia, you would expect him to be rough around the edges, and intimidating, but he’s the complete opposite. He’s the perfect house husband. 

end. 

𖥔 a/n: you've reached the end of my hubbygyu fic! thank you for reading and please leave an ask or comment if you've enjoyed this story :)! but wait... there's more! this story will become a series that takes inspiration from the anime ( the way of the house husband) so please look forward to seeing more of wifey y/n and hubby gyu! thank you again ♡.

[a-dragons-journal]

Letting the Past Lie

I’ve been thinking about the black dragon that features in a few of my scarce memories, and why I’ve let him(?) remain mostly forgotten.

For a time when I first joined the community, I was very focused on the past life my draconity stems from - as is typical for many of us. I wanted to know, after all - there was a whole life to unlock, and so much about myself to learn!

But I realized quickly that past life memories aren’t easy for many to access, including myself, and that it’s even harder to discern what’s a “real” memory and what you’re “making up.” Past life regressions rarely work well for me. And so, after a while, I let it fall to the wayside - I made peace with the fact that I will likely never know very much for sure about that life.

A lot of time has passed since then. I’ve learned a lot about my dragonself and my draconity, very little of which has had to do with events in that past life, and it’s all become very normal to me. The not knowing has become pretty normal, too, and in a lot of ways it’s stopped really bothering me.

A couple of my headmates recently have been playing with voluntary aspects to their identity - not choosing who or what they are, but filling in the details they don’t remember where the gaps bother them, deciding that the created facets are just as real as the remembered ones. It occurs to me, as I am reminded of the black dragon’s existence by a song on my Spotify that reminds me of him(?) (Strange Sight by KT Tunstall, for posterity), that I could take the same route - fill in gaps, write in details, decide for myself what happened there.

I don’t know if I want to, though, honestly. I don’t know if I care enough to bother. That Rani was very different - solitary, arrogant, wild, self-sufficient. I believe that I learned things from that life, as I believe is the point of reincarnation, but it’s done now. How much does it affect me, really? Part of me is curious, but… curiosity about what happened isn’t satisfied by filling in the blanks in the same way that being bothered by not remembering is, I think. Maybe I’m wrong there. And, anyway, the curiosity isn’t that strong, as evidenced by the fact that I haven’t really bothered with any past life memory retrieval techniques for years now. I’m more interested in my life here and now, the dragon I am today, than the dragon I was in a time and place long ago and a universe away.

Sometimes it’s better to just let sleeping dragons lie, I suppose. It will come to me when the time is right, if it ever is.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies, starting with the ones related to the dragon!Malleus drawing from yesterday.

Anonymous asked:

*claps hands and rubs them together*

Hehehehehe dragonussy ✨ (recent Malleus drawing)

Yes! Finally!! 🤤😏 After all this time…!

Anonymous asked:

Mal only tops in dragon form

Look at him, Anon.

Look at him closely.

He is a bottom bitch with a dragon pussy so big that no dick could possibly satisfy it, so he is to stay forever hungry, underfucked and cranky until the chosen one (or a donkey idk) shows himself and fucks him to the ground.

 (In all seriousness, please don’t try this with us. We don’t like switching and we mention it every single day.)

Anonymous asked:

J-Jamil, do you know what it’s like being someone looking at a man that looks the way you do? 🥵

I think he knows, Anon… he knows it well enough to abuse this power that he holds 😔 So cruel and so beautiful!

Anonymous asked:

Have you seen Jamil’s B-Day groovy? He braids his hair and puts all the pretty hair accessories in with magic! Also, his sprites have him with these headbands that he just SLAYS in. It’s not fair for him to be so pretty ♥️♥️

Yes! I really wanted to compliment Jamil for having dedication to do his braids every single day, but then the groovy dropped lol The cat is out of the bag. I guess that makes perfect sense, who would want to spend so much time on that if you can do it with magic… good for him.

The headband looks cute on him as well; this guy is way too pretty for his own good.

Anonymous asked:

Who knew Lilia discovered the theory of relativity, turned down Henry VIII, was the first person (fae?) on the moon, and escaped the Facebook lizard!

(related to an ask from yesterday)

Yes! Especially the last thing!

The fact that no one other than the rest of Diasomnia boys would believe him… younglings are so cynical these days :(

Anonymous asked:

I feel like “Wait for It” by Leslie Odom Jr. really matches Jamil especially his feelings toward Kalim near the end of the song.

I really like this song, Anon. Maybe this is because it’s kind of difficult for me to separate it from its story and Burr and Hamilton specifically…

I agree that Jamil resonates with the feeling of unfairness when some other person just keeps doing whatever he wants and winning, while he has to sit back and wait, but Jamil’s situation still feels very different.

Then again, Jamil got his “what are you waiting for though?” moment, so 🤔 You’re onto something.

Anonymous asked:

You know, when I first read that thing you wrote on Vil being taken advantage of by older men in the industry, all I could think about was "All You Wanna Do" from the Six musical. Like, listen to it while picturing Vil and you'll understand what I mean.

You ask was driving me insane for this entire week, Anon, because I was trying to find one reply where we already talked about Vil in relation to this song, but plottwist: it doesn’t exist lol But we did get an ask about it in relation to Alois! Which is funny because somehow we keep walking back to their similarities from time to time.

To answer your question though: yeah I get it. It’s like the perfect level of uncomfortable coping with the idea of “I am not being taken advantage of, I am just that good compared to others”. Vil probably had his breaking moment when he stopped lying to himself about this whole thing.

Anonymous asked:

Do you watch k dramas? If so, you should really check out Glory. It’s a super intense one

K-dramas aren’t really our thing, but I checked the synopsis of Glory, and honestly it sounds super cool! And has this vibe of a lot of k-movies that we love, interestingly.

Thank you for your recommendation!

[the-elder-polls]

Thought I had more notes for my ten years after skyrim thing, uh, enjoy(or don’t lmao /silly) trying to make sense of my rambles and made up ranks hehe /pos~

(I think this first one was for my ash’abah oc’s backstory I’m working on? But it pretty much relates to whats going on in cyrodiil)

For reference for later: Whats actually going on is my nerevarine oc, devryne motmalvel, who had achieved chim long ago- and was locked up in the shivering isles since the events of the game morrowind for his betrayal- he sided with and may or may not have married dagoth ur- which resulted in the whole vvardenfell crisis with dagoth ur to still be ungoing a few years later during the oblivion crisis. After the Oblivion crisis was over, an argonian by the name of Zz’eishadei, also known as the false incarnate, did what he was supposed to do and destroyed the heart- killing dagoth ur, and temporarily weakening him for long enough for him to be cast away… and unfortunately perhaps for him Sheogorath was pretty damn pissed to say the least that Devryne could have completely altered everything, hence him getting locked up there. But, somehow, he eventually escaped mid skyrim dragon crisis- but lost his memories. He near single handedly ended the civil war in the stormcloak’s favour- simply because all he could remember was a deep sense of something being missing, and a hatred for the imperials- his chim coming in handy… but after the dragon crisis was over… he soon got his memories back. Utterly enraged and consumed with grief, he turned his anger towards cyrodiil- the False Incarnate who killed his husband was long dead… But those his husband was determined to end had to pay in his mind… So Devryne marched forth, bringing renewed corprus with him, wishing but to change everything in Dagoth’s image… but for right now he’s simply hiding, letting the disease spread… raising his forces, with the sole Ascended Sleeper that survived so long- who may or may or have been his ashlander friend he betrayed by siding with dagoth so long ago- by his side… and it is these corprus infested people- mostly ‘ash zombies’, thought to be odd zombies- little do they know they aren’t even undead- by those in cyrodiil who know next to nothing of what happened in Vvardenfell nearly two centuries ago… Kaffaljidhma doesn’t know either, but he is determined to protect those he can, and ‘let the dead rest’. 

In the recent years, after the slow decline of the formerly ruling political party, the argonian tribes have returned to their more peaceful ways- and rule by council. However due to recent… issues ‘cross tamriel, they have elected a Wo’nassa- a rank which hasn’t exactly existed before- or ‘highest elder’, to negotiate with the other provinces for the Hist, and to help with this… Moons-great-Song has quite literally had one of it’s seeds implanted in their brain.

Emperor Duilius Urbicus of Cyrodiil- mage king, and suspected demigod, swiftly took control and elevated his family to nobility during the power vacuum caused by Titus Mede II’s assassination. Luckily for the other provinces, he seems content to strengthen his own people, in oppose to to the near endless campaigns against the other provinces… but this is somewhat out of necessity, due to the unexplainable deaths in the province’s rural regions…

Mane Ri-do’adsaad-dro is… certainly one of the less… conventional manes. Lover of music, talented bard- and more so the region’s best storyteller than the great warrior one would expect… Yet his extensive array of knowledge has lead to him being surprisingly wise- but wisdom helps little when that which has been forgotten starts to usher in the end.

High-King Sadalmelik may have been a hero in his province’s rebellion against the now dissolved Dominion, but the losses have left significant scars- mental more so than physical. He wishes he could step down… but he knows his people would be devastated to know the man they uphold so much is, as he personally believes ‘a broken coward’.

High-Queen Ysabel Baujart~ no clue yet, buuuut she’s more than a bit annoyed with the rampant piracy on her coasts-.

Morrowind is currently lead by a council between the leaders of the current five great houses- once six of the seven (uh house dagoth was still sixth but there was a seventh in my au lmao), but not at all unfortunately House Dres has found all its ‘nobility’ unexplainably murdered. Nobody cares enough to investigate. Council consists of: Archmagister Telvanni Guirylhe, Archmaster Redoran Llarvynya, High-Guildmaster Sadras Hlervo, Morasunnar Imyoren Foluiyem, and Seneschal Indoril Eleriyran.

The Navarch of Pyandonnea… The first true ‘ruler’ of the maormer after it’s god king died long ago in the war against Psijics. It was they who brought the Maormer back into the knowledge of the other provinces- and, luckily, has lead them to be significantly less… isolationist and violent. First and foremost the Navarch leads it’s fleets, but most surprisingly… They struck an alliance with the Altmer? Rumours have it they’ve united against a common enemy, but all seems calm in boths’ lands…?

High-Queen Alfhildr, not sure about her either lol, but she stole the prestige of the ldb destroying Alduin- and well, as Kedhur was kind of turned to ash, and the blades never helped him- nobody can prove she’s lying- her ability to use a plethora of shouts definitely helps. Literally only ruling because the occupying imperials were wiped out, and a certain member of the dbh killed the stormcloak leaders-.

Queen Eilyri of the Altmer is totally not actually a daedra pretending to be an altmer- but it is certain that she’s a bit odd for her people, and one of those responsible for the dominion and the thalmor’s downfall. 

Valenwood is primarily lead by the current Silvernar (Baeindril) and Greenlady (Galbreitneth) at the moment- but King Ulwaglianor is in charge of diplomacy- very very against a recent island that has magically been torn out of their land to make a small floating kingdom- yet has been unable to reach it. 

(i recommend zooming in on those images to read them)

good LORD that's all so much storytelling i'm impressed!! so many fun and interesting and admittedly macabre or downright tragic characters, i love it

[eunchancorner]

I got another fic request if you don’t mind it! Just a playful tickle fight between the hatzgang? All three of them are ticklish dorks who act tough in my opinion. Ofc if you aren’t comfy with this, you can 100% decline. Love your work btw :3

Not me happy squeaking at getting another spooky month prompt. Plus the Hatzgang, I could rant for ever about them but in short you’re absolutely right-

Also I kinda wasn’t able to finish this one, I apologize, I just kinda… lost the motivation entirely and couldn’t leave it here when I have more in my inbox. Sorry.

Lers Ross Robert and Roy, Lees Ross Robert and Roy

Warning: Unfinished garbage, cussing

Word count: 1371

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thanks for letting us come over, Mrs. Jaune,” Robert said as he walked in with Roy at his side. Them and Ross had been planning a sleepover for months and for the longest time been debating on who’s house to hold it at, before settling on Ross’s since his family was the most chill.

“No problem, Rob. He’s upstairs, and I get not wanting to stay at Roy’s house… no offense, Roy, but your mom is…” she trailed off.

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Roy assured her as Ross came downstairs to greet his friends.

“But, out of curiosity, why didn’t you guys stay at Rob’s house like last time?” Jaune asked.

“Because Radford kept messing with me the whole time…” Rob started, but Ross couldn’t help himself.

“You mean because he kept tickling you and me and Roy kept teasing you about it?”

“DUDE!”

“Aw, don’t worry, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Ross is pretty ticklish too, aren’t you, Rossy?~”

“Wh- n- No I’m not!” the ravenette protested, but a curious poke from Robert pulled a squeak that made denial impossible. “Dammit, Mom, quit embarrassing me!”

“That’s my job, honey. Now, you three head on up, me and your dad are gonna start on dinner,” she told them, and the three nodded, heading upstairs to Ross’s room.

“You guys wanna listen to some music while I get my games set up?” Ross offered as they walked in.

“With the way your room looks, something tells me the answer is no…” Roy answered, looking at the pure black walls and dark gray bed sheets.

“Listen, I was emo before, and we don’t have enough paint to repaint here, so shut it,” the ravenette snapped back. “I listen to different music now, it’s not all Fall Out Boy and MCR. I got AJR, I got Imagine Dragons, what do you want to listen to?”

“Ooo, AJR! Can we listen to I’m Not Famous? That’s my favorite!” Rob butted in, doing his little happy stims as Ross nodded and turned the song on. The two other friends sat down as they watched Ross set up his console (which shall go unnamed for reasons) and pulled out a few games.

“Ok, guys, Mario Kart, Black Ops or Minecraft?” He offered up three of their favorite games, already knowing damn well they were going to pick Minecraft. There was something for all of them in that game.

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, Ross was mining, Roy was trying to build a house and Rob was gathering flowers and making friends with bees.

“Ross, I sure as hell hope you’re getting cobblestone,” Roy complained, idly motioning to the dwindling amount in his inventory.

“What does it look like I’m getting- actually, Rob what are you even doing?” Ross asked, getting distracted by his blonde friend’s gameplay.

“Hehe, bees,” the blonde answered with a single word, feeding two bees a flower and watching as a little baby bee spawned in.

“Wh- actually I have an idea. Ross, get some sand,” the brunette suddenly said.

“Ughhh, why?” the former emo boy complained.

“We’re gonna build a honey farm.”

“Don’t we need a hive for that?”

“Well, DUH, that’s what Robert’s supplying us with! He’s over by the bees, so we’ll just build it around them! It’ll be perfect!” Roy sneered, as though he was coming up with some kind of evil plan.

Robert couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his friend’s tone. “Calm down, dude, we’re just building a honey farm, not catching the Smurfs.”

Ross snickered a bit. “Catching the Smurfs, what are you, a 90’s kid?”

“Listen, my parents only give us so many options on what to watch so we make do with what we have! Besides, my sister loves 90s cartoons!”

“Of course it circled back to your sister,” Roy playfully complained, earning a very fake offended gasp.

“Oh, you’re just jealous that both of you are single children!”

“Oh, please, you have enough siblings for all of us,” Ross pointed out.

“I-” Robert started before he paused and counted in his head. “Oh shit you’re right-”

“PFFFT- '' Roy slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter at the tallest’s realization, Ross letting his amusement flow free in the form of a few low chuckles.

“Listen, sometimes I forget Robin is there, ok? She’s super quiet!”

“Shehehe- She’s right there!” Ross argued, more giggles bubbling up in his throat.

“Oh, shut up, both of you, before I give you both a reason to laugh!” the blonde threatened, Ross promptly shutting up with a small but noticeable wobbly smile. Roy, however, smirked at his friend.

“Nice try, but I’m not ticklish,” he dared, Rob raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Oh, you’re not? Really?”

“Nope… but you are.”

Before the other two knew what was going on, Roy had the blonde pinned beneath him, his hands raised in threatening claws before attacking the poor boi’s sides with merciless squeezes and scribbles, making him burst into bright laughter.

“R-ROHOHOHOY! NOHOT THEHEHERE! PLEHEHEASE!” he squealed, kicking and squirming and thrashing under his friend’s skilled fingers. Ross couldn’t help but watch his friends closely, carefully planning his next move. Slowly, and carefully, he reached his hand out to squeeze Roy’s side.

“Oh? Not there? And what’s gonna stop me? Maybe… you?” Suddenly, the brunette grabbed his ravenette friend’s wrist and yanked him forward, pulling him down to the ground beside Robert.

Oh fuck-

“I don’t think sooo!~” and, just like that, Roy clawed at Ross’s belly, seeming to know exactly where to go to get him squeaking and curling into a ball around his hand.

“Aww, look how ticklish you two are! In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that, just by getting you guys once, I’ve already found your worst spots! I mean, just listen to you two, hell, I can’t even tell if you can hear me over your own laughter!~��

Of course, he could tell they could. The way their faces lit up bright red at his teases, how Robert squirmed more and more, and how Ross even tried to pull his beanie over his face was enough to tell. Ah, what a nice activity, tickling the absolute hell out of your friends for no reason other than they were about to tickle you.

Well, it wasn’t as long as he hoped it’d be, as suddenly he was pushed off of them, tumbling onto his back. He sat up to see them sitting up, giggly, panting, still smiling, but oh boy, even under those bright smiles they looked pissed.

“W-wait, guys! W-we’re friends, right? Y-you guys!” Roy wasn’t sure why he was getting so worked up, he wasn’t even sure if he was ticklish, but the looks that his two friends were giving him made him feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach, and whether he was or not, he was really nervous to find out.

But, of course, no amount of begging can save you from the ticklish wrath of your friends. Ross tackled him to the ground and Robert wasted no time in shoving his hands under Roy’s arms, immediately pulling a surprised squeal from the brunette. It definitely tickled, a lot more than he was expecting, and it felt so weird to suddenly feel like laughing that he did the only thing that made sense in his mind: tried to hold it in. He didn’t know why, he just did.

Apparently that was a mistake.

“Ohhh, we got a fighter here, huh? I know how to deal with fighters!” Robert said in a way that was way too teasy for Roy’s liking. “Ross, I’m gonna need a little help here. Pick a spot and dig in!”

Ross nodded and went for his own worst spot, the belly, not quite expecting the reaction he got.

“AHAHA NOHO FUHUCK!!” Roy screeched, rolling onto his side with more force than Robert was ready for, accidentally dislodging his left hand. But all that mattered was the dam was broken, laughter pouring from the brunette’s lips in a similar manner that he had his friends in minutes before. He weakly shoved at the blonde’s remaining hand, seemingly barely trying to dislodge it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sadly I couldn't finish this one, maybe you can come up with your own ending!

[mangoisms]

like the part of the song where it falls ━ miyuki kazuya

━ part four: mostly, i want to be kind / read part three

━ wc: 7k

━ warnings: none

━ masterpost

“How’d your appointment go?”

“Three months. Three months and I’m cleared for rollercoasters!” 

“I thought that was a joke.”

“Whaaaat? No! January twenty-fifth —” you clap a hand on Miyuki’s shoulder, grinning; he shakes his head, pulling into the parking lot of Birch Aquarium. “That’s our day.”

“Our? No way.”

“Yes way.”

He groans melodramatically and makes a perfect right swing into a parking spot. “So, what? Disneyland? Universal Studios?”

“What? Screw those guys! I’m talkin’ about Six Flags, baby! It’s Batman time!”

“How are you even cleared for that?”

“Well, I’m not yet. I’ll schedule an appointment for the week before and if my doctor clears it, we’re good to go. Speaking of, we should settle on a date.”

“A date for our date?”

He’s doing that more often. Mostly because the press has gotten a lot of pictures of you two hanging around the city and the more sensationalist tabloids are saying you’re dating. Framing your whole meeting as one big meet-ugly that leads to a love story for the ages. You’ve both denied the rumors but mostly, you try not to think about it. 

You flush. “No jokes or I’ll drag you onto Viper.”

“And what’s that one like?”

“Terrifying enough to have you coming off appreciating life and loving your neighbor.”

He snickers. 

Realistically speaking, you probably won’t be able to ride that one. Too much G-force. You’d either grey out or just straight up blackout. 

Hector would kill you. If the coaster didn’t do the job, anyway. 

“You’re all healed, then?” he asks as you approach the entrance. 

“Brain bruises are gone and so is the fracture.”

“Good. That’s good.” He hands the tickets to the attendant. You watch him. 

You’ve been thinking about what Jerry told you for the past few days. About the incident with that little girl in Georgia. You aren’t sure if you should say something. Anything. It was already a few years ago. Truthfully now, you’re just…

Well, you’re wondering if he is doing this stuff because he feels guilty. You don’t want him to feel guilty. You want him here because he wants to be here. You want —

Nothing. 

You shove the thoughts away and follow him. You’d both come early because you wanted to see the penguin feeding at one. 

And plus, there aren’t as many people around. Kind of a bonus. A Tuesday at noon. The second week of December. Empty. Or, well, mostly empty. 

Inside, the air is cool, smelling faintly fishy. It is dark, with the light coming from the tanks, shining blue on your faces. You’ve come prepared with your camera, taking pictures of whatever catches your eye. You two walk through the Hall of Fishes, showcasing the diverse marine life of the pacific. The Giant Kelp Forest, with kelp swaying in cool blue water, Leopard Sharks, Moray Eels, and Giant Black Sea Bass gliding through them. Then the Sea-dragons and Seahorses display, with the aforementioned marine life as well as pipefish and other unique species. 

“Seahorses mate for life, you know.”

“Don’t the males also get pregnant?”

“They’ve got it all figured out,” you sigh wistfully; half of you wants to climb in that tank. “I mean, seriously, that’s some soulmate shit.”

“Isn’t it kind of… not?”

“For me, soulmates are created, not found.”

“What’s the criteria?”

The question shocks you. You look at him. 

He’s already looking at you. 

Your chest warms and you look back at the tank, where a light green seahorse speckled with black dots swims through the water. 

“Why are you asking?” you ask, a little teasing, though your heart is suddenly beating out of your chest. 

Quiet for a moment. Then… “I’m curious.”

The thing is, he doesn’t sound like he’s joking or even teasing you. No, he sounds… well. Curious. 

“I don’t know,” you say, deciding screw it and looking at him. Your hands grow clammy around your camera. You let it fall, hanging from your neck. 

You tug distractedly at your shirt. It’s a comfortable day, so you’re in an outfit similar to the day you and he had Rico’s, with your Docs, your over-the-knee black socks, denim shorts and black cherry lip lacquer. Except it’s not your Wonder Woman shirt, but the Padres jersey you’d been generously gifted by the team. A rusty brown kind of color, with golden trims and San Diego written across the front. Nothing else on the back. You wear it unbuttoned, though, with a black lace trim cami underneath; the jersey is a tad oversized at your request, so the ends fall down a little bit past your hips. Your nails are painted black again. 

When Miyuki saw you after picking you up from your apartment, he said if you were going to be friends, you had to have his jersey, too, so he was getting you one immediately. You said that wouldn’t help your dating rumors at all. He said Do you really care what they think, tomcat?

“I don’t know,” you say again. Unsure if it’s to his question about criteria or your own thoughts. 

(But you know — your answer to whether you care what others think, you mean. Not the press, not the media, not the fans who think you’re trying to steal his money — and they can die mad about it, too, because nine out of ten times, he’s insisting on paying and since you only make enough to pay rent, feed yourself and your pets, and sustain a Spotify subscription, well, why the hell are you going to say no? You don’t care about them, not really. You just care about him. About this. Whatever this is. Real friendship or just his guilt. 

But god, you really hope it isn’t that.)

“I don’t think there’s a specific criteria for what classifies a soulmate. That’s the beauty of it. I think Jerry is my soulmate but I think Batman and Robin are my soulmates, too. My pets, I mean, not the actual characters.”

He smiles. Your heart does that funny thing again. 

“But you know how I am. I love love. I love humanity. I love the strangers I see on the streets being kind to one another, the baby who smiles at me on the bus. It’s just… it’s not hard. It’s easy.”

“Aren’t you afraid of getting hurt?”

“What’s life without a little heartbreak? Yeah, I’ll get hurt and I’ll lose a little part of my heart but at the end of the day, I’ve got people to help me fill it back up. I don’t think you can go through life and get a fulfilling experience if you try to protect yourself constantly, never be willing to let someone else handle it.”

You pause, a question on the tip of your tongue, unsure if you can go ahead with it. 

“Ask,” he says quietly. “We’re friends. Friends ask each other questions.”

You smile at him repeating your words from last week. 

“Well… do you have people like that?” 

He looks ahead, pensive. Quiet long enough that you know you won’t get an answer. Not now, anyhow. And that’s okay. 

He’s spoken of his old friends from high school. Told you plenty of amusing stories from that time. Told you about how they lost Nationals in his first and second year, then won it in his third. Told you about Kuramochi Youichi, who ‘is sharper than he looks and surprisingly reliable, too,’ and Sawamura Eijun, who is ‘obnoxiously loud and passionate and won’t ever leave you alone, but he’s one hell of a guy.’

Miyuki bared a lot to you. But there’s still more to him. You think that’s how it will always be, you peeling the layers back one by one, discovering who he is. Then perhaps one day, you might get the privilege of holding his heart in your hands. 

You continue to explore the aquarium for a little while longer. 

Outside, they have tide pools, with sea stars, sea anemones, hermit crabs, sea cucumbers, lobsters, and other little creatures swim around. You can even dip your hand inside and feel them. 

Miyuki refuses (“My hands are my life!”) but you get him to join you, only by guiding his arm under yours, your hand pressed over the back of his. He squirms at the feeling of the creatures brushing up against his palm and you beam. 

Afterward, you check out their penguin exhibit, where they have a feeding show as well. Then you start to feel hungry. 

“They have a cafe here, don’t they?” Probably exorbitantly priced but you know the aquarium is owned by UC San Diego and they’re doing lots of conservation efforts so you don’t mind. Even if the tickets were twenty-five bucks a pop. 

“Not necessary,” Miyuki says.

You chuckle at his matter-of-fact tone. “Why not?”

“I brought food.” He opens the messenger bag he’s had over his shoulder, showing you two bentos. You’d been curious about it but didn’t ask. Now you know. 

“Are you allowed to bring that in?” you ask curiously. 

He shrugs. “They didn’t say anything to me about it.”

Well. You can never say no to his cooking. 

The two of you find a picnic bench near the cafe. Not many people are outside but you still sit with your backs to everything else, anyway. 

He made thick club sandwiches with mayo, ketchup, cooked ham, bacon, cheese, an over medium egg, lettuce, and tomato. It is paired with spam musubi, made of mixed grain rice with furikake, spam, egg, and nori, then wrapped with seaweed. It’s delicious, as usual. 

You eat in a companionable silence. You feel a little sleepy, too, since you slept intermittently while running the show last night. It runs on weekdays but not weekends, but since yesterday was Monday, you had no choice but to stay up late, then get back to your apartment at four where you slept until eleven. 

Overhead, the sun is out, shining down warmly on you, mitigating the effects of the cool breeze that rustles your hair occasionally.

This is nice. 

It’s always nice but… 

You find yourself increasingly appreciative of these stolen moments of peace. 

You finish your food. Miyuki wordlessly offers you his water bottle, which you gladly accept, washing down your food with still-cold water. You pass it back afterward unthinkingly. You don’t quite realize what you did until you see him looking at something in the corner of your eye and you turn to see, too. Only to wince when you realize he is staring at the rim of the bottle, where a dark imprint of your lips lingers behind. 

“Shit, sorry —”

“It’s fine,” he says, shaking his head a little, then swiping a thumb over it. But the attempt to clean it doesn’t work. It smears over the white of the water bottle and on the pad of his thumb instead. He blinks and stares at his thumb, the stain darker than the light brown of his skin. 

“It’s… long lasting,” you stammer, embarrassed as you turn to rifle through your tote bag, pulling out a small pack of makeup wipes. 

You pull one out, then lean over to clean the rim of the bottle, black cherry staining the wipe. He doesn’t let go, so you just move into his space to do it, embarrassed for the most part. 

Once the bottle is clean, you turn to his hand, cleaning the lacquer from his thumb. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, lifting your eyes to him. 

You freeze as you realize how close you two are. You’re in his space. Your legs pressed against each other, your hand on his. The heat of him bleeds through his jeans, warding off any chills from the cool breeze. And he’s looking at you. 

He’s looking at you. 

This close, you can see how thick his lashes are, amber brown eyes flecked with gold, burning through you, and you can see the faint tan lines on his face, from his glasses or from his catcher’s mask, who knows, but it’s a decidedly endearing tidbit of information that you tuck away behind your ribcage. 

Your heart pounds fast. Heat rises within you, ballooning in your chest. You don’t know what to do — you should pull away but…

You don’t want to. 

The realization is enough to make you feel dizzy. Or it could be that you’re so close, you can smell his shampoo, something spicy and warm. 

“You asked me earlier,” he begins quietly, surprising you, making you pull back a fraction and your hand jerk (the two of you are in public and granted he has a cap on but still; if the press caught this, they’d have a field day). But he doesn’t let you go, plucking the wipe from your hand with his left hand, while his right, the one that had the stain, closes around yours. 

“About whether I have anyone,” he goes on. “The truth is, I’m not sure I do.”

You soften. “Why not?”

“It’s only me over here. Well… there’s Chris but he’s in Toronto with the Blue Jays. He’s… got his own life to handle. My friends from school… they’re all back in Japan and truthfully, I’m not as great a friend as I should be to them. They’re good, they’ve always been, but me…”

He finally looks away from you, sighing. You’re pressed to his side since he has your right hand clasped in his right, your arms and legs pressed together. It’s a bit of an awkward angle but you ignore that, happy to be this close. Happy to have him opening up even if it makes you sad. 

“I’m the variable in the equation. And the fact that I’m here and not there… after everything… next to impossible.”

The new information you’d learned from Jerry about his second season with the Braves springs to the forefront of your mind. 

“After everything?” you ask hesitantly. You don’t want to assume. 

He looks at you. “You know.”

Guilt curls in your chest. “I only found out recently. I didn’t… Before that, I had no idea that had happened.”

He looks away again, fingers tugging the bill of his cap. 

“Her name is Mia. She was six when it happened. She just turned ten a few weeks ago.” He digs out his phone. Shows you a picture of a little girl with a gap-toothed smile, dressed in a baseball uniform, with a glove on her hand. “She still wants to play baseball. Be the first girl to join the Majors. After everything, the least I can do is make sure she has every chance to.”

“That’s… really nice of you, you know.” 

He doesn’t respond to that, putting his phone. “I assume you know how that season turned out, then.”

The worst slump of his career.

You don’t say that. You don’t say anything. You just look at him, heart aching on his behalf.

He leans back, looking up at the sky. “They tried. They did. But up until then… accidents like that didn’t happen for me.”

You stay quiet. A slow breeze flutters his hair. 

“When I was a kid… I was smaller than most of the kids on my team. Much smaller than them. I said things — the truth, it was only ever the truth, to make us better — and they didn’t like that. I saw no use in fighting back. I’d show them on the field. But what that taught me… violence has no place in baseball. Not that kind of violence. Say what you want on the field, in your plays, but… you ruin the game by doing anything else.”

Your heart aches; it feels like each beat it takes is harder than the last. “Miyuki…”

“I know,” he sighs. “I didn’t try to hit her. I didn’t. But indirectly… it was my fault, my actions. More than that… why didn’t they have netting there? Why were there no precautions in place? Why’d it take so long for someone to get to them?”

Tension bubbles in the air. Everything about him sharpens in that moment, anger taking over; a dormant anger, the kind you hold onto, brutal and unforgiving. Not something new. 

He looks at you. Sunlight turns his eyes honey brown but they’re hard, burning. 

“Do you know what they told me? The park, MLB? They just said, that’s just how things are here. Fans didn’t want netting there. This is America. But that’s too easy. They just don’t want to lose the money in the initial stages. But people would come. They always will. But how could they make that expense? Of course not.” He lets out a slow exhale, some tension unwinding from his shoulders. “I didn’t let it go. They threatened suspension.”

“What?”

“Her mom told me to let it go. The park would put up netting, but it would just be them. No one else would follow suit. Not until one of their fans almost died from a foul ball or a broken bat flying into the stands.”

“That’s…”

“I’m biding my time,” he says, speaking with a kind of ruthless finality that raises the hair on the back of your neck. “A few more years before my age catches up with me and they start putting me on the back-burner. I’ll do it then.” 

He is prepared to scorch the earth and salt it behind him, too, for this. You can’t say you disagree with him. 

“Anyway,” he sighs, thumb idly rubbing over your hand; you suppress a shiver at the feeling, catcher’s callouses ticklish against your skin. “All of that happened that year, that summer. My friends, they tried, but… nothing could be done. Things got… better when I moved out here. But the damage had been done. I couldn’t try turning up pretending everything was fine. A younger me would’ve but I can’t do things like that anymore. We made some progress but… like I said. They’re there and I’m here. The variable in the equation.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind a call from you. Anything, really. I don’t get the sense they’ll abandon you.”

“Maybe.” 

“Everyone has their issues, Miyuki,” you say softly. “No one is perfect. But you’re trying, aren’t you? Right now, you’re trying. You don’t have to. You could’ve just told me to go to hell and that… well. That would’ve been fine. But you’re trying.”

He looks back at you. The look in his eyes makes your stomach flip-flop and your heart pound. 

“You remind me of them, you know. Both of them.”

“Naive?”

“You and I both know you aren’t naive. No… you’re hopeful.”

Warmth spools like cotton candy in your chest. Your face warms and you smile, leaning your head on your shoulder. 

“And a little annoying. Admit it. It’s okay. Everyone should be a little annoying and off-putting every now and then.”

He chuckles, a small smile tugging at his mouth as he looks down at you. “A little annoying sometimes, yes. But it’s fine. Think I need to be annoyed every now and then. Probably payback for all the people I’ve annoyed when I was a kid.”

“You were just a kid. Let yourself off the hook. Though, I do agree that you should be annoyed every now and then. You certainly are annoying now. Well. A bit more than every now and then.”

“Don’t lie to me. I rarely annoy you. You’re just so… impossible to get worked up.”

“I let it go. I know you’re just like that. No reason in getting bothered about it.” You elbow him gently. “But there are limits, alright? You’re a grown man. Act accordingly.”

He laughs hard, for a reason you don’t understand, but you don’t care. You like the way his eyes crinkle. 

“You aren’t wrong!” he says when he finishes, grinning down at you. “Starting to think I should. Like maybe talking to my friends more. Maybe… give them a call like you say.”

You smile. “That sounds like a good start.”

“And I think… I think I should be a little more appreciative of the friend I have here with me right now.” 

“Oh, yeah?” you ask, beyond pleased. 

“So… you should start calling me Kazuya.”

“Wait — what —” you jerk and he quickly lets go of your hand to sling an arm around your shoulder and pull you low against his chest. It’s not particularly romantic because he kind of has you hunched over against his stomach. 

“Miyuki, what — hey, this isn’t comfortable…”

“I’m sorry, who are you talking to? That bird over there?”

“That’s a squirrel.”

“Question still stands. He doesn’t look like a Miyuki to me. He looks like a… Nori.”

“Miyuki.”

He doesn’t acknowledge you. 

Your face burns. You groan. You should be happy — you are happy. You know how big this kind of thing is. But you’re also embarrassed. Why are you embarrassed?

Being given the privilege of his name doesn’t mean anything other than you two are friends. And he said it himself. 

You’re friends. This is just what friends do. 

(Yeah, you know this sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. 

You are.)

“Kazuya.”

“Now we’re talking about me. Very nice.”

He lets go. You glare a little at him as you come back up. He just smiles. It’s far too bewitching for you to really be annoyed with him. 

“Have any more room?”

“For?”

He rifles around the bag next to him, pulling out an orange. 

You melt like butter in a pan. 

“Sure, yeah.”

Kazuya (gah, that’s weird… but not in a bad way) proceeds to peel it expertly by hand, dropping orange peels into the now-empty bento box. Citrusy orange tickles your nose pleasantly. 

He splits off a few wedges for you. You take it, pulling one free. He pulls one free for himself. You sit side by side eating the orange together wedge by wedge.

Yeah. You’re thinking about it. 

You know — the poem. 

You know the one.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Do I need a reason to smile?”

He eyes you and the look on his face is both amused and fond but mostly fond. “I guess not.”

[Night Owl Transcript — 20:31 — 12/15/2022]

Tee: I just… I love poetry. I think poetry is great. Mouser’s rolling his eyes but that’s just ‘cause he likes nonfiction better, which is fine. I like both. Oh, someone on Twitter is asking what brought this on. Um. Nothing in particular at all. [Laughs]

[DNCE’s “Unsweet” starts playing in the background]

Tee: But if you guys have any favorites, send them my way. I’m always happy to get new material. 

[“Unsweet” starts playing] I want you unsweet You satisfy me That brutal honesty Won't you pour your heart out on me?

[Off-air recording starts] Mouser: What are you smiling about? Tee: I just think… the universe is great. Mouser: Right. Sure.  Tee: Soooo.  Mouser: [Laughing] What? Tee: I’ve come to a realization.  Mouser: And that is? Tee: I like Kazuya. Mouser: Jesus Christ. Tee: I mean, look at this queue. It wasn’t intentional but… Angel Baby. Attention. I’ll Be Waiting. It’s so… Mouser: [Laughing] You’re in love with this guy! Tee, Mouser: [Laughter] Tee: Ohhh. That is so… It’s fine. It’s cool. It’s chill. We’re chill.  Mouser: Hehe, wait, are you, like, just realizing this? Like actually? Tee: Yeah.  Tee, Mouser: [Laughter] Mouser: [Laughing] And you’re spending the holidays with him! Tee, Mouser: [Laughter] Tee: I know! I know… but it was just convenient. When the plans were made, I mean, ‘cause my sister and Hector are going out of the country and I could spend it with the family but… then he’d be alone.  Mouser: What do the kids call that? Down bad. You are down bad.  Tee: [Laughing] I know! It’s just… you don’t even realize it, the way he gets to you. It sneaks up on you. And then one day — today — you’re just like… Huh. He tries to seem so aloof, like he doesn’t care, but he does. A lot. I think that’s partially why he is the way he is.  Mouser: He’s also nice to look at it.  Tee: Really nice.

[Lolo Zouaï’s “Blur” plays next] Last night was a blur I stayed till the morning Let you call me your girl That don’t mean I’m falling (But I think I might) You’re every single thing that I deserve Maybe that’s too boring

Tee: Hey, you know I love you, right? Mouser: I know. I love you, too.  Tee: Good. I don’t want you to think… I mean, I know you don’t but, like, let me just reassure you… just ‘cause I like Kazuya like that won’t change anything between us. You’re my Mouser. My guy in the chair. The Donna Troy to my Dick Grayson.  Mouser: You geek. You’re the Chewie to my Han. Tee: I think I’m more Han than you but since we’re having a nice moment, I’ll let it go.  Mouser: Andddd the moment is over. 

You have no idea if Kazuya listens to the show. 

You don’t really know how to feel about it if he does. 

Mostly because, around him, you’re already feeling a whirlwind of emotions. More so because you’ve planted your white flag and given in. Given in to the fact that you do like him. That you like when he smiles, those rarities that make you appreciate them all the more, that you like the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs that stupid laugh of his. 

That you like his thoughtfulness, that he goes the full nine yards even when you tell him he doesn’t have to. He stopped buying shellfish for himself, even though you’d adamantly told him he didn’t have to do that, that all you asked if he hung out with you when he had it was wash his hands and if you were eating at his place, avoid cross-contamination. No. He just got rid of it completely. Not like I’m cutting out fish entirely, he told you. I still have my seafood. 

You like how he pays attention to you, he remembers things, like when you mentioned, a month ago, that you were trying to complete your collection of the Batman: No Man’s Land omnibuses by getting the second book and you also wanted to get the Batman: Road to No Man’s Land omnibus, too. They’re just ridiculously expensive — Volume 2 of NML is $150 and RTNML is $125. He surprises you with them a few days after your realization, says he was just passing a comic book store and braved the geeks to get it for you and that it looked mildly intriguing, so you have to let him read Volume 1, it’s only fair.

It’s so surprising, so unexpected and emotionally overwhelming for you that you throw your arms around with him without thinking it through. 

“And what will the press think?” he teases, but he still wraps his arms around you and there, in his embrace, everything feels right, like a puzzle piece sliding into place.

You would know. You’re, like, the leading authority on puzzles. 

“Screw the press,” you mumble into his hoodie. 

You don’t want to say something like, Well, this is just a platonic hug between friends. It aches too much. Like you can pretend you don’t want to stay here forever. Like you can pretend the urges to touch him freely aren’t growing stronger every day, minute by minute. 

But that won’t happen. You know it won’t. You’re a hypocrite for doing this, really, but the truth is, you’re selfish enough to want to keep him as a friend, if anything else. No use in ruining things by inserting feelings into the equation. You don’t want to lose him. You really, truly don’t. 

You’ll just wait for it to abate, for it to go away. It will. It’s the third week of December. The new year is creeping closer and closer. On February fifteenth, he is due to report in Peoria, Arizona for spring training; pitchers and catchers report on that day, before the rest of the team. From there, he won’t be back in San Diego until late March. Opening Day is April first. And from there… well. One-hundred-and-sixty-two games in the MLB’s regular season, from April to September. 

That’s only two months away. The thought is… sobering. Makes something inside you stiffen up but you tell yourself it’s fine. The distance might help. It will. 

You surely won’t compromise your relationship with him to get rid of these feelings, no way, they’ll just… be there. And if you get help in moving on from them with his busy season, well. That’s just how the cards fall.  

You let go before you get carried away, leaning down to deposit your gift in the car. A cool breeze flutters through your hair; you shiver a little. The breeze is cool but the day is pleasant enough with the sun is out. Still, you find yourself dressing a little more conservatively today, in a pair of mom jeans and a brand-new eggplant purple Night Owl crewneck.

Yes, you’re wearing your own merch. But this is more of a test-run, to see that it actually is comfortable before you release it. 

The ocean sprawls out ahead of you, gravel leading to soft white sand, overgrown grass and weeds sprouting from the fence that separates the parking lot from the beach. 

While you carefully put away the bag, behind you, Kazuya types on his phone. 

He called them — Kuramochi, Sawamura — a few weeks ago, finally taking that leap. Things are on the mend for them, you think. The thing is, they text a lot. 

“Texting your friends?”

He hums absently. You turn away from the passenger side and creep up next to him, deftly stealing his phone. 

“Wh — oi!” He sounds vaguely panicked for a reason you aren’t sure of but he has nothing to worry about.

“Relax, dude. I can’t read any of this.”

He snorts, looking relieved, then he switches gears, trying to look sternly at you. “Give me back my phone, brat.”

“Just for that?”

Despite everything being in Japanese, you know the symbol for the camera anywhere. You click it, opening the front camera, snapping a quick selfie of you, your wine-purple lips (you gotta match, man!) spread in a grin, peace sign thrown up, while he tries to grab you in the background. 

You send it just as he steals his phone back, laughing and pushing you gently. 

“Bothersome.”

“I get it from you.”

He rolls his eyes, still grinning, types a few things, then puts his phone away. You two go back to the car, where he uses you to balance himself as he rolls up his jeans and pulls off his socks and shoes. 

As he straightens, his eyes find your crewneck. He blinks, head tilting. He puts his shoes away. 

“So, you guys aren’t being shut down, then.”

You plant a hand on his offered arm and bend down to do the same with your shoes. Since you’d agreed to stop by the beach, you’d chosen a pair of sneakers rather than your Docs. Your camera hangs around your neck. 

Things are going well. Whether Night Owl is doing well because you’re constantly photographed hanging out with Kazuya (and constantly being accused of dating) or because the people who listened to you out of curiosity or word of mouth decided to stay because they liked the content and the music, you have no idea. 

But you don’t care. Both work just fine in your opinion. Either way, KCSD isn’t going to shut you down. No way. Not with the kind of traffic you get. 

Questions about merch increased, which pleased the company beyond end, but you had to go in there and negotiate. They didn’t get to take all the money. No. You think, after you and Jerry manning this show for several years, that you two deserve a pay raise. And updated equipment. You could probably ask for a bigger studio but you like it the way it is, honestly. Cozy. 

They’d agreed, of course. The reason they’re getting money is because of you and Jerry. You two are in positions to negotiate like that. 

So, you and Jerry have been creating all kinds of designs and ideas over the last few weeks. You’d settled on shirts, crewnecks, hoodies, and stickers. It’s eggplant purple, with a cartoonish owl and one of those old-world microphones, the silver ones. 

(You couldn’t do a Tom and Jerry thing, since, you know. Copyright issues. Thankfully everyone is aware of that and also don’t want you guys to be slapped with a cease and desist.)

“No,” you say, bare feet sinking into the sand; it’s not warm but it’s not cold, either. Somewhere in the middle. “They aren’t shutting us down. Things are going well.”

“Had me thinking otherwise since you’re wearing your own merch.”

You laugh. “Just testing it out. Making sure it’s fit to be released to the listeners. Can’t give them shoddy work.”

“Does your fan base have a name? Since you’re releasing merch…”

The two of you start walking. 

“There’s actually this organization in the comics called the Court of Owls. There’s no real name for the members themselves but they do employ these superhuman beings called Talons.”

“Naturally.”

“But we nixed that one. They’re kind of… evil. Organized crime type situation.”

“Probably for the best.”

“The best we’ve come up with is Owlers.”

He snickers. You laugh. 

“Yeah, I know. Not great. Night Owl’s name itself is pretty self-explanatory. There isn’t a lot to pull from it.”

“Well, this —” he tugs at your crewneck “— probably makes up for it. Where’s mine, by the way?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize —”

“You should’ve realized. I don’t accept your apology.”

You laugh loudly, your eyes taking in the tan sand and the blue waves stretching out into oblivion. Foamy tides lap at the shoreline. One part of you wants to dip your toes into it but you know you’ll be disappointed. The water is too cold to enjoy. 

A salty breeze kisses your face. You’ve missed the beach. You haven’t been in a while. This one is fairly empty, with only a few people around. At Scripps Pier, a quarter of a mile from Torrey Pine, that’s where you two are. It’s the same area as Black’s Beach, which is clothing optional but you know that if you continue south of the lifeguard tower, almost no one is around. So, no accidental eyefuls of naked people. 

He grins at you, looking all kinds of dashing with the breeze ruffling his hair, his dark blue crewneck pretty against his skin, the sun shining down on him. 

“So, then,” he starts casually in a way that has you raising an eyebrow, “you won’t be taking that offer.”

You cock your head, confused, before he nods at the camera in your hands. 

“Oh. Oh. God, I completely forgot about that. God. That was weird.” You raise the viewfinder to your eye, capturing the swaths of empty beach ahead of you. 

“Why?”

“It just is.” 

Click. You let your camera fall back to your neck. 

“Well, if you take it, you’ll definitely be spending more time around me and since you want to be best friends forever —”

You grin, face warming. “You can just say you want me to take it. That’s fine.”

“Hm.” He tilts his face up thoughtfully. “I do want you to take it. I mean, I think it’d be nice. But I also know you’re happy with Night Owl, which is admittedly cooler.”

“Hey, don’t disrespect your photographers like that.” 

He shoves you gently, rolling his eyes. “I’m trying to compliment you and this is what I get.”

You grin, falling back a few steps and raising the viewfinder to your eye again, moving until he’s in your frame. 

“See?” he says, lips quirked, hands tucked in his pocket. “Aren’t you having a great time taking pictures of me?”

Click. 

“Well, if I want to take pictures of you, all we have to do is this.”

He laughs and it sounds genuine. Click. “Touché, tomcat. Touché.”

Warmth unspools in your chest, ballooning there until you feel like you might float up. His eyes twinkle with something warm as he looks at you. The urge to feel his arms around you swells with vicious intensity, until you’re choking on it. 

“Hey. Let me see that.”

You let him tug the camera from your neck, resisting a shiver when his fingers brush the skin there. 

“You need merchandise shots, don’t you?” he asks, backing up, eyes on the screen. He knows his way around it. For the most part. You taught him that. 

“I think I need merchandise shots of you. You’ve been great for business.” You still toss your tote bag to the side. 

He barks out a laugh. “As soon as I get my own patented Night Owl merch. Then I’m yours.”

Your heart leaps in your chest. Like it wants to go to him. 

If only. 

He raises the viewfinder to his eye. 

You smile, holding out your hands. “What am I supposed to do?”

Click. 

“Aren’t you the one into photography? Shouldn’t you know?”

You laugh. Click. “Aren’t you the one whose face is plastered all over GQ, Sports Illustrated, and TIME right now?”

“So, you’re the person who bought all my copies at that one Whole Foods?”

“Look, you look good, but there are enough pictures of you primped and preened out there. The fact is, those guys would kill for the ones I have. You know. Candids. The natural state of being. You stuffing your face with black bean noodles from that one restaurant —”

“Those were good noodles! And I looked great!”

“The professional guy in the magazines is great, don’t get me wrong. But I like this version of you, too. You know. Just… you,” you say, smiling as a breeze ruffles through your hair. Click. That one surprises you. 

It’s maybe too honest on your part. But that’s fine. You think he needs to know that. You like the oh-so-professional Miyuki Kazuya on the field and you like him off the field, too, behind closed doors, teasing you constantly with rare, unexpected bouts of sensitivity, recipe testing in his kitchen, his competitiveness coming out when you try to complete thousand piece puzzles, and binge-watching episodes of House (because of course he likes that show). 

Despite what he likes to think, he is… good. Truly. 

Click. He adjusts something. 

“You should get your bag,” he says instead of responding to that. You don’t mind but —

“What?”

“I said, you should get your bag. A seagull is digging through it.”

“Wha — HEY! Get out of there!”

The seagull flies off. You snatch up your bag. Kazuya laughs so hard, you think he might bust a lung. You can’t help it, either. It only takes a second for you to start laughing, too. 

“Did you get that?!”

Still laughing, he nods, holding out the camera. You hurry to his side, uncontrollable giggles spilling out of you. 

Sure enough, in perfect clarity, he documented the entire thing. 

A few days later, Night Owl’s merchandise goes up, on a brand new website for the segment. The pictures before tragedy struck you on the beach go up, along with some of Jerry, and then one of Kazuya. Theirs get taken at the same beach. The Padres’ socials post them, too. 

And yours, documenting ‘Seagullgate,’ go up on Twitter as a bloopers thing. It becomes your most liked Tweet. (Especially when people find out who was behind the camera.)

[Night Owl Transcript — 20:48 — 12/21/2022]

Tee: Thank you guys for your continued support with the merch stuff. None of you are obligated to buy anything and honestly if you listen, that’s pretty much all we need but still. Thank you. 

[Pale Waves’ “My Obsession” plays] You're such a mess but you're always beautiful to me Run your fingers across my mouth I'm not prepared to stay here without you

[Off-air recording starts] Mouser: Hm.  Tee: What? Mouser: Today’s queue… Tee: Let me live, Jer. I’m pining.  Mouser: Well, don’t just admit it! Tee: Hey, we’re not live, right? Mouser: No.  Tee: Thank god. Could you imagine? Mouser: I would laugh.  Tee: What? My best friend… my Mouser… my Donna Troy… how could you betray me like that? Mouser: Admit it. It’d be hilarious.  Tee: In hindsight maybe. If it didn’t blow up in my face. Like the kind of thing you laugh about when you’re eighty.  Mouser: Oh, come on. That guy likes you. Why else would he agree to taking pictures for us? Tee: Um. We’re friends? Duh.  Mouser: Sure, but he also looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky. Tee: Hmm.  Mouser: Why do I even try?  Tee: Hey, if this is being recorded, where does it go? Mouser: I… actually have no idea.  Tee: We should find out. We’ve talked a lot of shit about the supervisors on here. Mouser: [Laughing]

[Seulgi’s “Anywhere But Home” plays next] Baby 그런적없니넌? 아무런계획없이떠나고싶은밤

Please take me anywhere but home Take me anywhere Please take me anywhere Gotta take me anywhere Take me anywhere but home

Slowly

the dogfish tore open the soft basins of water.

You don’t want to hear the story of my life, and anyway I don’t want to tell it, I want to listen

to the enormous waterfalls of the sun.

And anyway it’s the same old story-- a few people just trying, one way or another, to survive.

Mostly, I want to be kind. And nobody, of course, is kind, or mean, for a simple reason.

And nobody gets out of it, having to swim through the fires to stay in this world.

[acircusfullofdemons]

ask game by @/maddgical-boy [link]. didn't answer some bc I either didn't feel like it or didn't have an answer.

how long have you been daydreaming for? (bonus if you can remember: what was your first daydream scenario/paracosm?)

Ever since I was a little kid. My teachers would always make a note along the lines of “good student, but daydreams way too much”. My memory is dogshit so I can only fathom what 6yo Luka was daydreaming about.

if your paracosm had a popular fandom, what do you think it'd be like?

Well. 2/3 of my main paracosms are technically fictparacosms, so I don’t have to imagine. But overall, a nightmare. I would probably get canceled for cursing out a fan lbr 💀

do you have any paracosms that aren't huge, but that you fall back on when The Time Is Right™️?

Yes! Crystalized Dragons & Life After Death are both paracosms that don’t have much, but I get fixated on them every so often and it’s a fun time. 

WOULD YOU RATHER: have your daydreams projected onto a screen attached to your head at all times OR be entirely unable to daydream ever again for the rest of your life?

😳 how big is this screen ... cuz unless it’s phone size/easily coverable, yeah no just erase the daydreams from my brain.

how did you come up with your paras' names? did they come to you randomly or did you spend hours researching name websites?

Some are random/based on vibes, but I like to give their names meaning depending on what happens to them. And there are others whose name is a pun, because they aren’t tormented enough 😂

do you do extensive worldbuilding for your paracosms? if you do, what are some of your favorite elements?

yes … that is. nearly all i do, like 90% of my daydreaming is just lore shit ngl. there’s a lot of things I like about worldbuilding, but I guess the magic systems are my favorite since I think about them the most. 

if your paras found out you were their creator, how would they react?

Not well, I’d imagine! I’ve put them through … a lot of shit. So. I think they’d take turns cursing me out and trying to kill me.

if you have a self insert/paraself, how similar are they to you?

Technically Calypso is a self insert, he was originally supposed to be one but then I thought he was better as an OC. I kind of still consider him one though, ngl. Anyway, he’s nothing like me at all! 

Vincent, on the other hand, is much more similar to me. I’m not gonna state how, because yknow. Personal shit. But they’re more in line with being a self insert/paraself. 

is there any time of the day where you can't/don't daydream?

… not really?? I guess during work, but unless it’s really busy (which it rarely is unless it’s the holidays) then yeah, I basically daydream all the time. Well, not like 24/7, I take breaks and get daydream blocks. And it’s not like I’m doing full daydreams either, most of it is just running on in the background, like a tv show. 

are your daydreams linear and structured, or do you jump all over the place?

A mix of both! There’s a set story, but I jump around in said story. 

what's a song you've been daydreaming to lately, and what's your favorite moment in said daydream?

My Alcoholic Friends by The Dresden Dolls. My favorite moment is during the lyrics “Should I choose a noble occupation? / If I did I'd only show up late and sick / And they would stare at me with hatred / Plus my only natural talent's wasted on my alcoholic friends” because the whole song reminds me of Salem but especially that part and by god are they a mess. That part in particular is them once again comparing themselves to Norman, wondering if she’d be better off getting a “normal job” like he has, but knowing that ultimately she’s not built for that life like Norman is. 

do your paras age with you, or are their ages static? does it feel weird to be older than a para you were previously the same age as?

I used to have them age with me, but it fucked with the paracosm timeline a little bit so now I think they’re more “static”, though they still age in-paracosm. bc of timeline shit.

if you had the opportunity to leave this world and live in your paracosm forever, would you? why or why not?

Yes. I mean, ideally I’d be one of my paras, but sure I guess if I’m just me that works too. Why? Have you seen the fucking world lately. Anyway like always I’d choose to live in Phantasmagoria, even though I’d get killed within the hour.

(if you have multiple) which paracosm of yours is most grounded in reality? which is most fantastical?

Most fantastical is probably just Eternal Labyrinth as a whole. I don’t really focus a whole lot on realism in my daydreams — fantasy bitch through & through — but I guess my current MaaC AU “This Life is Mine” can be considered the most “grounded”, even though it’s a superhero thing.

do you move a lot when daydreaming, and if so, in what ways?

I pace, run around a little bit. Go crazy go stupid etc. But I try to mostly stay still by sitting or laying down so I don’t seem Weird. 

have you ever wanted to make a piece of media of your paracosm (comic, animation, visual novel, novel, tv show, etc.)? what are elements that would be apart of it?

Oh absolutely! I truly believe a lot of my ‘cosms would work well as VNs, but I’ve also imagined some as animated shows. 

when you actively want to start daydreaming, what is your mind's process? do you tune back in like it's a tv show? flip through imaginary files? let it come naturally?

I kinda tune back in with a mini “previously on”, otherwise it just comes naturally since they’re usually in the background of my mind.

do you ever daydream about yourself (not a self insert, just you)?

No. I used to, but it just felt weird. 

what para would you absolutely hate in real life?

Oh…a LOT of them, probably. They are dumbasses, serial killers, and just terrible people after all.

when you experience a daydream block or crash, what are things you do to try and fix it? (or ways you cope. lmao i get it)

I try to consume new media to try and get some inspo or whatever. Most of the time I end up rewatching the same shit over and over again bc I got that flavor of brain that makes getting into new media hard for some reason. 

for fictparacosms, do your daydreams affect how you perceive the media and/or the fandom?

Kind of. I don’t really engage with fandoms that much anymore, and yeah my fictparacosms tend to be why. They’re usually AUs so I already feel…insecure, I guess, sharing them. And I haven’t had good experiences with fandom in the past, either.

With the media it’s based off of, it’s typically something I got hyperfixated on, which means my daydreams are an outlet for that lol. Once the hyperxitation is over the paracosm tends to fade a little bit or disappear entirely (which is why I don’t typically talk about my fictparacosms — they’re so short lived). Still, when it’s active, there comes a point where I stop engaging with the media altogether in favor of the fictparacom. I might watch some clips here and there, but that’s about it I think.

if you ever write down things about your daydreams (truly anything at all — notes, dialogues, descriptions, etc), share a random snippet with no context.

I try to. I was a lot…better(?) at writing down my daydreams — and just writing in general, I guess — when I was younger. idk. I know I should document my daydreams more often, it’s just…hard.

if your paras had madd/daydreamed immersively, what would they daydream about?

Reverie does have MaDD! She daydreamed about having a daughter, though thinking of her daydreams is weird to me. I will say, Rev is the goddess of daydreams & imagination, and made her para daughter, Lucid/Lucinda real, making her the goddess of lucid dreams. idk thats kinda all I know.

I’m sure some of my paras would have MaDD, especially those in AM or have interacted with Arcaynis in some way. Oh, Jervis has MaDD! He has two paracosms: an aiw one, and one about magicians. I don’t really like putting my paras on the daydream spectrum, it feels weird to me lol like breaking the fourth wall in a way. Even if, realistically, a few would indeed be MaDDers/IDDers. 

if you have tried to make your paras in character makers (picrew, meiker, etc), what is an aspect of your para that these makers never/rarely have?

An option for both horns and wings! Usually it’s either or (if an option at all). And the option to make the eyes different colors, or change the whites of the eyes. 

are your daydreams clear in your mind's eye?

Depends on my energy level, but generally speaking, yes. 

if you have multiple paracosms, what would it be like if they had a crossover?

Chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos. My most fleshed out crossover AU is actually an apocalypse au, if that tells you anything. Granted, none of my paras caused the apocalypse, but still. Why can y'all only interact in an apocalypse goddamn.

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Pretty good answers thank you! :D got some more

1: what’s the best Christmas gift they ever gotten?

2: for this year, what gifts do they really want?

3: when they are with their families, who puts the Star on top?

4: what’s their favorite & least favorite Christmas song?

5: what’s the greatest revenge they gotten on a bully?

6: what’s their opinions on guns? Also I can see them wielding special non-lethal guns similar to red hoods that they can charge their darkness & starbolt energies into. Chris has a blue gun with either the Nightwing symbol on the rear grip or maybe a charm kinda like in call of duty & Jake has a yellow or maybe blue too with his symbol on the gun or charm.

1. Chris: His own custom made blue and orange cape with the House of El symbol on the back stitched up by Martha, Clark and Jon when he was 10. He cried tears of joy as it was further proof that they’re his real family

Jake: The Skybird suit, made by both Alfred and his Father when he was 9. At first he wonder why the boots seemingly lacked the steel toes like in his older prototype suits, only to discover they were inside the boot safely so that he had that enhanced kicking power yet they look even more stylish.

2. I would like to think of the two being humble enough so that they aren’t too demanding for their gifts….that being said, if the Duo receive the entirely of Dragon Ball, from the original to Super, as DVDs/Blu, Ray, they very much would appreciate it

3. Chris: Jon and him playfully do an arm wrestling contest, 2 out of 3, in deciding which one has the chance to put up the tree Star. By the time Chris edges out a second win though, Krypto already beat the two to it

Jake: Both Mar’i and him put up the Star together, floating up to the top with each of them carefully holding a side of the Star as it’s made of precious Tamaranean jewels on its eight points and a sturdy yet easily to dirty metal. It’s a traditional they’ve been doing since Jake was around six when he began to float in the air successfully, always capped off with Dick taking a photo of the two just as the star is put into place.

4. Chris - Favorite: ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ by Paul McCartney; as per usual given it’s written by a Beatle and the fact it’s just a catchy joyful melody bell never get tired of

Least Favorite: ‘All I Want for Christmas is You’ by Mariah Carey; frankly, not much to say here other than it’s over played to Chris’ liking everywhere he goes

Jake - Favorite: ‘You’re a Mean One, Mr Grinch’ by Thuri Ravenscoft and Dr Seuss; true Jake can never in his entire lifetime ever reach that legendary Deep Sound in singing it but the poetry, the instruments and just the gleeful tone of the whole thing gets him so excited whenever it comes on

Least Favorite: ‘We Are Santa’s Elves’ from Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer; having about one or few adventures with Chris that involve meeting Santa himself along with the eleven working with him, he will not stand this misrepresentation of Elf kind if he can help it. Plus the song itself is relatively annoying

5. Easily the time they suited up and during a school dance night, when a bully who earlier that week took Jake’s lunch money and proceeded to embarrass him via reading his diary out loud in class, the two waited until said bully was all by himself right outside the auditorium building, proceeding to wrap his ankles with a grapple line, dangling him upside down and Jake gives his best batglare while Chris lays down the terms. Basically, back off from any of his victims and give back their lunch money if he still has them. The bully tries claiming innocence, with his rambling saying “I swear to..” onto for Jake to interrupt with a classic “Swear To Us” before bungee dropping the bully with his grapple line. That was enough to convince the bully, who by wet himself in fear, to start changing his ways. It was good enough for Jake who then let him back down gently flat on his butt before taking off away.

6. Oh, They dislike actual real firearms with a burning passion, comparable to Obi Wan’s distaste for blasters. That said, those color schemes for those gadgets that can channel their respective energy powers into a compact form do sound fitting for them

Sorry it took a while but at least I got to them my friend

Thanks for your patience @gothicghost2000

[skinandscales-if]

hi this is weird little venomspitter + reese anon back again!! :) for some reason my brain has been stuck on a loop of thinking about the prince lindworm fairytale and now i'm wondering if that + other dragon fairytales continue to exist?

(and also lowkey enthralled by the idea of my venomspitter identifying with “monstrous” dragons as a coping mechanism for the way they're treated … an attempt to cling to their surface level pride as a dragon shifter that gets torn down as they realize people genuinely think of them as a monster, mostly due to things they can't change about themself. the whole,,, the thing that makes the lindworm human in the end isn't pain, it's is held like a human … idk something about it!! hits!)

hi again anon!! missed ya ^^

oghhh this is a great question, every bone in my body wants them to exist but I do think there would be a few changes based on the legitimacy of dragonkind existing. I think it could still make sense especially for old poetry to have these kind of myths/stories exist, but more recent tales and works of fiction would either not exist or would certainly be modified to include some kind of specific retrospective. Like the ‘Puff the magic dragon’ original poem would exist but not the song, yknow? At least not without some heavy notifications to what we know

also YEAHHHH >:3 so very very cool and definitely a headspace I try leaning towards when writing MC’s with “dragon pride” ! Choosing between the three options of how your MC feels about their dragon form is a big big factor in every scene I write, and a pride!MC especially has this funky little spot in the middle- they aren’t ashamed of themselves in any way but are still alienated enough from their culture (and specifically the city’s unique brand of it) to still feel very, very alone.

It makes a lot of sense that they would gravitate towards media depictions, especially if the historically “evil” takes of them result in a kind of power fantasy in the end. Lots of ways for that to turn dangerous though…

TLDR; it hits fr!!!!

[mira-shard]

Winx club playslists

Someone liked it so here we go, all my winx playslists songs + reasons

Imma just... Go ahead and tag those who encourage me, hehe-

@h-doodles @theguythatdraws @prancingpixie

Group Playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1A5ssSjVPbpd35kjVPMNMD?si=4ca30869ea514dd5

Kids in the corner- Arguably the best thing to come from Fate the winx saga. Just the misfits, found family stepping up vibes

Alright- Montage song vibes, definetely something they blast while training

Home- “ Oh, home, let me come home. Home is wherever I'm with you. Oh, home, let me come home. Home is wherever I'm with you.” Need I say more?

Meet me at our spot-  Again, the found family vibes + the excitement yet fear of growing up

Lotta true crime- They literally became the next company of light and are an all girls group. I don’t need to say anymore-

Twin size mattress- Their own emotional baggage, trauma, how they found solice in one each other

Sports- Again, just found family vibes

Marlboro nights- Montage vibes

boho days- Montage vibes

Glory and gore- They were literal freshman when they fought an army of decay- and they saved the entire universe multiple times.. Yeah the girls are badass warriors

Tonight Tonight- But at the end of the day they are also just teenagers trying to enjoy themselves in a world that seems determined to force them to grow up too quickly

I can feel it- Montage, stupid teen vibes

Freaks-Found family, group of misfits

Then there’s of course the individual playslists;

Bloom:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/18trVd42Z2FxcVIFEV5AoQ?si=a8af770a5ff94668

Bones-Magic that has always been crackling under-well, her bones. Plus there is no way she always had good control of her magic.

Jenny (i wanna ruin our friendship)- Her and Selena were definetely into each other, i’m just saying- and if not Selena, she definetely had a crush on Stella and/or Flora at one point.

Back in school- Let’s get one thing straight- an adopted kid who’s quiet with a hyperfixation on fairies as a teen- Bloom got bullied and got panic attacks whenever vacations were about to end, i’m not wrong-

Waiting on a miracle- Now hear me out on this- Mirabel’s desire for a mriacle like the rest of her family, Bloom waiting for the miracle that’s control of her powers or atleast to be able to understand them

Runnin’ - ... Bloom canonically ran away from Alfea 5+ times, it just felt fitting-

Carry on wayward son- Honestly I at first added this one cause... my sister loves supernatural but the first lines do actually fit! Except Bloom is carrying on Daphne’s power, the dragon flame, and come on- “There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest, don’t you cry no more.” That’s Daphne talking to Bloom right there-

Look who’s inside again- Again, Bloom before meeting Stella

Are you satisfied- All these girls are Marina coded- But jokes aside, even if she always wanted to be a fairy, there’s still fear and nerves in there too. Homegirl felt like she didn’t belong in that school for weeks-if not two whole months when she first started

You’re gonna go far, kid- She did as a matter of fact- go far- Plus come on “see them running for their lives” when she has full control over the great dragon and kicked ass in the season 1 finale

American idiot- Bloom grew up on earth and... idk i just felt like it fit- And Mike is definetely a Green day and metallica fan so there-

Stella:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5G3IfiIY4iwZeU8lrCJUGB?si=2ca97c37049a47e8

Sunkissed-Solaria has THREE SUNS, enough said

Honey- Idk why but this song SCREAMS Stella to me

Make you mine- Definetely a song Brandon once put on a playlist for her and it’s been on loop in all of her playslists ever since

Primadonna- Again, just Stella vibes-I don’t feel like I have to explain myself further

Devil town- “Mom and daddy aren’t in love. That’s fine, I’ll settle for two birthdays.” It’s the divorced kid anthem-

The Family Jewels- Did you know when you have both mommy and daddy issues, it’s called parental wounds? yeah... Stella has parental wounds

Seventeen- Stella definetely has a low self esteem despite what people think. I mean *gestures to season 3*

Cherry bomb- Stella has a lot of depth, yes, but she’s also still the ‘trouble making party girl.’ 

Princesses don’t cry- again, season 3- Same applies to Layla/Aisha

Young and beautiful- *gestures to season 3 again* Come on, her being cursed-

Flora:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/197IGgpoRUmWnyXc9lGFN1?si=22a5a6207df743c9

Backyard boy- Idk, this entire song just screams Flora and Helia’s relationship to me (which btw is goals)

Prom queen- Flora also has a lot of insecurities, but hers are more so about her own shy personality and her inability to speak up. “i was never cut out for prom queen” which only got amplified to appearances when she couldn’t find the courage to confess to Helia

Vienna- Flora is a certified burned out gifted kid with overachieving tendencies

Put your records on- I heard this song and all I saw was Flora barefoot walking around in a field naming all the flowers. Also definetely her wake up to song

She- Flora, another queer icon. The soft spokenness of it all, the sweet, gentle “please can i have this person in my life” just screams Flora

Savage Daughter- At the end of the day Flora is a nature fairy and well, that girl is a goddamn force of nature (pun intended)

Treehouse- Again, referring to her more introverted nature and how the only ones truely allowed inside are the Winx. “Why can’t everyone just go away? Except you, you can stay.”

Some nights- Even with Chatta’s and the winx support, speaking up for things I can imaigne is something Flora struggles with well into adulthood. Even if one moment she seems to be commanding everyone’s respect and attention, the next she can be in a corner, just wishing no one would see her. “Some nights I wish my lips could build a castle, some nights I just wish they would fall off.”

The record player song- this song just screams cottagecore to me and therefor it screams Flora. I mean, wearing vintage dresses, climbing in the trees? Come on. Also “wish i was a teenage rebel, never even got detention.” Flora’s fear of not living life to the fullest cause of her anxieties.

Tecna:

 https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4cbGvZsrqhd8DGhAWmS4FN?si=ab7dbdaec9b54d65

High hopes- “I got one more run and it’s gonna be a sight to see.” Listen- I was daydreaming trying to think of songs for Tecna, heard that line and all I saw was that scene of her marching forward to close the omega portal in season 3. Instantly added it-

This is me- A personal fave cause... come on, Tecna’s whole arc is about learning her own emotions and understanding those of others

I’m a mess- It’s always easier to feel and acknowledge negative emotions rather than positive ones, and even someone as logical as Tecna suffers from that.

Lemon boy- She IS the lemon boy. I mean, come on-

Family jewels- Yes, this one is for Tecna too. I mean, her whole “not acknowledging emotions, operate only on logic-” she got it from SOMEWHERE-

Cloud 9- “when he calls me pretty, i feel like somebody” come on.. her and Timmy, about how acknowledging her emotions helps her get more healthy and she makes progress and the- “You remind me how to fly.” Timmy also has similair struggles and they help each other, come on- it’s their song

Mastermind- She’s the mastermind of the Winx, period-

Rät- “ The hot girl in your comp sci class And I was Darwin's prep school dream, Bred, born and raised to kick your ass. I fell for circuit boards, Rocket ships, Pictures of the stars. If you could only be what you pretend you are” If this doesn’t scream Tecna-

Oh no- “ Maybe it is all a test.'Cause, I feel like I'm the worst, So I always act like I'm the best.” Being a fairy isn’t just about being clever and logical and I can imagine Tecna really struggled when she didn’t score high enough to her liking on tests because of that

top of my school & Price of perfection- These have similair vibes and well.. Mainly how I see Tecna’s relationship with her parents

Musa:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3AZmwiKJMEPzNHb9tctJ2N?si=d825bb7dc0144a1c

Tomboy-Mainly how Musa became more feminine clothing wise later on but also the fact that she can do both, masculine and feminine, she rocks both like a ... well a tomboy-

Won’t bite- Idk why but this is just one of those songs I can picture Musa singing to hype herself up

Tear in my heart- I mean, that first line already- “Sometimes you gotta bleed to know, that you’re alive and have a soul.” Soul is literally what you need for music- Both to make it and to enjoy it

not your barbie girl- Musa is an independant queen, please and thank you- ... even tho she and Riven are a bit toxic, i still ship it-

That bitch- “ And I keep talkin' like I'm taller than the trees (bitch). But my eyes never see much higher than five feet.” All short Musa jokes aside, homegirl is a feminist and blasts this at any chance

Put your records on-  “Girl, put your records on, tell me your favorite song.” Music is THE best way to connect according to Musa. Sharing playlists and songs recommendations, even a simple “hey, i heard this song and thought of you-” that’s her love language.

Still into you- Her and Riven, no other words needed

Dear maria, count me in- Just musa vibes, idk how else to describe it

Sit still, look pretty- Again, independent queen Musa who wants to make that money and not have to rely on anyone unless she chooses to

Hey look ma, I made it- *gestures to her and her mom* When she becomes an guardian fairy or when she starts making money with her music, just- 

Layla/Aisha: (imma refer to her as Layla cause that’s the name I grew up with)

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0J0GMzon7v2Z7tBF6yAm4X?si=3189375851374f57

Riptide- “I was scared of dentists and the dark, I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations.” If that doesn’t summon up her childhood, I don’t know what does-

Sofia- Layla’s first crush was absolutely on that one ginger girl that taught her the freedom that comes with dance

Ain’t shit- Have you seen how homegirl treated Nabu and the boys at first? Come on-

Afraid- “ When I wake up, I'm afraid, Somebody else might take my place.” Homegirl has abandoment issues and fear of being left behind and/or replaced. It just made sense

Underwater- Honestly just a song that seemed to fit her as the princess of Andros. I mean, it’s a planet with like atleast 50% of it’s population living underwater. Also could definetely see it as a lullaby her mom used to sing to her.

Shut up and dance- Layla’s go to up beat song, you can’t convince me otherwise

Runaway- Honestly I just see tthis as her yearning for freedom away from the court, the ability to make her own choices and the life she wants to live

Princesses don’t cry- Same with Stella, the pressure of having to become queen, being hyperaware of everyone watching your every move

Sit still, look pretty- Again, Layla wanting to have her own say in what happens in her life, wanting to be active in every way possible in her life, not a mere passive bystander

Roxy:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1hOEFrvqhya9dsJys68RQa?si=4ef80d945431463d

Wake me up- “wake me up when it’s all over” her utter complete denial about wanting to do with any fairy stuff including the fairy hunters. Homegirl wanted none of it 

Téir Abhaile Riu- So first of all, Roxy’s irish so- Second it’s something that just gives Roxy a little hold onto, she loves celtic music as it’s as far as she knows (before she met the winx) the only connection she has left from her mom

Tir Na Nog- Do... Do I really need to explain this one...? The home of the earth fairies, come on-

Show & Tell- “Im’on display for all you fuckers to see.” From one normal day to these crazy girls insisting you’re a fairy, fairy hunters coming after you, hearing literal voices thanks to the White circle. Homegirl had it ROUGH and felt like every move was watched, as if she wasn’t human anymore. “ Why is it so hard to see? (Why?) If I cut myself, I would bleed (kill me) I'm just like you, you're like me. Imperfect and human, are we?”

The last of the real ones- Come on... Last Earth fairy

Sweet Hibiscus tea- “ And I'm not your protagonist, I'm not even my own. I don't know anything, I don't even know what I don't know.” Roxy had.. a very rough and long way when it comes to her path of acceptance to being a fairy. Unlike Bloom, she wanted nothign more than to just be normal.

I can’t handle change- Idk, Roxy has always struck me as a person who thrives from a routine and already dislikes change. Yet a change as big as being told you’re a fairy? I mean... Can’t blame her for acting out-

Freaks- She really felt like a freak, I imagine. Probably way before she even met the winx. Luckily for her, they are freaks too where she fits right in.

Below the surface- Everyone remember those moments where she literally got POSESSED by Nebula, fairy of war?? Yeah- “ Listen close, Follow my instructions. There is no time for introductions. He was the one that made us. You'll be the one to save us.”

You’re gonna go far, kid- I mean, her and Bloom are each others foils, right? They are so the same yet each other’s complete opposite, it only felt fitting that I’d put a song like this too in Roxy’s playlist. Also “if you can’t get what you want, well it’s all because of me” is just Roxy @ the fairy hunters and honestly- good for her.

[wordsandrobots]

Dragon Slayer

[I wrote this seven years ago, as part of a series of stories I was playing with at the time. I’ve moved on from working on them, but I happened to look this one up today and it’s not terrible so . . . here it is!] According to the books, Elspeth Drake slew the last dragon in England in 1804 with an enchanted hat-pin. No one paid much attention at the time on account of dragon slaying being a couple  of hundred years out of fashion.

The dragons didn't pay much heed neither.

People imagine dragons are ancient. They imagine big old dinosaurs and because they're dinosaurs, they assume they must've died out. Ancient means extinct, they say. Stands to reason. It's right there in the song – the knights are no more and the dragons are dead.

They're wrong.

Ancient's a funny word, see. Means different things. Could be hundreds of years. Could be decades. I'm ancient. The ground's ancient. But we're ancient in different ways. On different scales. And dragons, dragons aren't ancient like old bones and fossils. They're ancient like rot. They don't sit there, quiet and dry in the rock, they fester away down there like big, fat maggots, chewing on their own tails 'til something makes 'em force a way to the surface.

They're simple things, in their way. All they need to hatch is something horrible. A family burning in the same fire. A whole village, dead of the plague. A war. Nothing complicated, nothing unusual. Sometimes the echo of those things sinks down deep, down into the dirt, down where there aren't any new families to come along and build new houses and there aren't any medicines to heal away what's gone before. They stick there, those echoes, 'til they've gone mouldy and ancient and in the end, out comes that fat maggot, a memory gone sour. An idea gone rotten.

Up and up it comes, clawing through the earth and out it comes and if you're lucky, it'll just drive a few shepherds crackers or make the local parson murder his sister. If you're lucky. If you're not . . . well, mebbe it's best not to think about that.

Elspeth Drake slew the last dragon. Happen she did a good job of it too. But it weren't last dragon. Couldn't of been. Not when they're being born all the time. It were just last dragon to make it to the surface.

Now I've got to deal with the next one. Me, all alone in this big empty field, in the dark, while a whole townful of people it'd gobble up in a day sleeps a couple of miles away. And me without an enchanted hat-pin.

Not that I have much truck with enchantment, mind. All that faffing around, trying to tie what you can do to something you can hold in your hand. I say, if your hand's good enough to hold summat, it's good enough to work with and to blazes with the rest. I never needed a wand in me life and I don't plan to start now.

So it's just me, me hat and me stick. Damn thing, that stick. Only started using it to get a bit of sympathy but these days it's stopped being pretend. Every time I wake up I seem to have a new ache, and another every time I go to sleep. Makes me wonder if I'm still up to doing this on me own. Mebbe I should have got one of the young 'uns to lend a hand . . .

Tch! Pull yourself together, woman. Yer still plenty strong enough to deal with one measly worm.

Stroke of good luck I heard about it though. Sensitive souls sometimes feel dragons and the like coming but I've never been much good at sensitive. Took old Elsie Moon rattling by on the bus to pick it up. Otherwise, first we'd have known about it would've been pitched battles in the railway station or some such nonsense.

That's not going to happen now though. Nothing's getting past me.

Wish the wretched thing would get a shift on. It's blooming cold out here. Pity specifics have never been Elsie's strong suit, otherwise I mighten'tve had to make this an all-night vigil –

All at once, it's knocking against the topsoil, sounding like the crack of doom inside me skull. Two ticks after that, a great whoosh of wind hits me. The grass around me is blown flat – I feel that, even if I can't see it. Same way, I feel the dragon pulling itself into the night, right in front of me.

It's not got a shape, exactly. Not so as you could point to. There's nothing to block out the muddy glow bouncing off the clouds, nothing that casts a darker shadow. It's just there. Big as a nightmare and twice as ugly. Its breath rolls over me, hot and angry. I remember swords in the distance and flaming hay blacking out the sky. I can taste drying blood in back of me throat. Nasty ideas choke the chill from the air.

But I've got me hat. Me dad's tin hat, from back when he were an air raid warden. He stood up to fire, did dad, to fire and worse. I shove that bit of him, the bit of him that was able to do that, between me and the dragon and tell it to lay off mithering me.

It don't take kindly to that.

Ranting and roaring, it comes at me. Doesn't stop to think or plan. All fire and poison and fuss and shouting. Never thinking about what it's doing. Never caring. Nothing to care with. It falls on me like burning fog, like all the worst days of me life. There's so much of it I have to plant me feet and brace against the wretched stick to keep meself upright. Every bone I've got shouts up at the weight of it. Me skin prickles, me eyes water – the damn thing's wrapping itself around and around, squashing the air from me lungs.

I can hear its heartbeat, pulsing strong and hungry. They're coming to get you, it hisses, those men with swords and spears. There are always men like that. The men who want to tear down your world and kill everything you've ever known. They're going to kill you. You're going to die. And even if it isn't them, you're going to die anyway. Because you're old and you're weak and your breath burns in your lungs where it once came easily and your limbs are brambles where they once were oak. Soon you'll be stuck in your bed, a hollow husk, just waiting for your eyes to go dark and your mind to turn to porridge, waiting to turn into a stupid lump of gristle, slick with your own filth and blood. You're going to DIE.

It shouts the last bit, jaws snapping shut around me. I'm in an oven, cooking alive in the stink of other people's half-forgotten terror. Hard to remember I'm still standing in a field, that I'm not walled in with broken timbers and hot coals. You're going to DIE. Hard to be sure which of us is the one thinking that now. I should've brought help. What were you thinking, woman, trying to kill this thing on your own?

YOU'RE GOING TO DIE.

I lift a hand to me head, to press at the pain. Only me fingers knock the tin helmet instead. The metal's still cold to the touch, cold enough to give me a shock. Course it is. There's no heat, not really. Just hot air and most of that's on the inside.

YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!

Of course I am, you daft snake. We're all going to die. We're born dying. That's good and it's bad but mostly it just is. Nowt any one of us can do about it. But let me tell you, it's better than mouldering away like you are, stewing in your own bloodiness. What do you know about dying, or living come to that?

I grip me stick as it roars some more, flapping at me face, shouting about how terrible it all is. The wood is hot with sweat, but it's an honest heat. I push me mind down the stick, down into the ground. I feel me feet from the wrong side for a second and then I go deeper, down into all that muck the dragon pushed up through. You want death, y'great stupid worm? I'll give you death.

I'll give you the death of everything that ever walked this patch of land, the death of every last thing that walked and hopped and flew. I'll give you the death of everyone who ever cared about whatever it was that hatched you. 'Cos that's the truth: you're an anger that's got nothing left to point at. Those men with spears? They're long since dust and bone. What did they ever leave behind? Bunch of gold that got lost? Bunch of swords that rusted away? You're sour milk. No one in their right mind would drink you.

And even if there's someone mad enough out there to let you in, they'll die soon enough. And the next and the next and the next. You'll play hopscotch until you run out of people. And then you'll die too. Die of hunger. No one left to think you.

Dragons'll be around forever. But this one won't be.

It screams at me. You're going to die, it screams. So're you, I tell it and smother it in the truth. I take it by the neck and shove it into the earth, show it everything that were ever lost to the mud. I'm going to die. It's going to die. And tomorrow there will be something new. Mebbe better, mebbe worse. But new. Different. It tries to make me despair over that. I show it why that's hope.

It can't take it. It just falls apart, fire going out at last. I suck down grateful lungfuls of night chill and let the embers flutter down on me. Everything aches and everything's sore but I don't care. This is the good kind of ache, the ache of a job well done. I snort and thump the ground with me stick, muttering a quick thanks to dad's ghost for making me swear never to sell his hat.

The last shred of worm whirls away on the breeze, scattered to join with the rest of the dead leaves. I watch it go and smile into the darkness. Too old, my eye. What were I thinking? I'll be doing this 'til I drop, just you see if I'm not.

According to the books, Elspeth Drake slew the last dragon in England in 1804. They'll need to be updating them now.

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

So a few things that I wanted to cover in response to this and other reblogs, mainly divided into two different areas: things we agree on and things we can expand on.

Things we can agree on, was the Empire of Valyria built on grotesque human suffering and dragon fire? Yes. Were the Valyrians the ones who first enslaved Essos civilians? No. Valyrians themselves were in fact first enslaved by the Ghiscarians during their many wars and subsequently enslaved the Ghis after their final victory over them. Did the Targaryen’s after their conquest of Westeros continue the “tradition” of Valyria and perpetuate slavery? Also no. Did the slaves build the city of Valyria or Dragonstone? No there’s actually no textual evidence to support this either. Actually here’s the answer to that from George himself:

So in reality the greatest example of the suffering of the Valyrian Freehold’s slaves really is the Valyrian Steel Swords themselves. So if as you said, “Weeping for the fall of Valyria is the in-universe equivalent of weeping for Nazi Germany.” Then I would ask you, what do you make of Westerosi lords and kings carrying around essentially Nazi memorabilia? Every Valyrian Steel sword is effectively a blood diamond! That much I will wholeheartedly agree on. Any way you look at it, the steel to make it and the blood magic used to bend it was a byproduct of human suffering. So why are those swords still carried and celebrated? It’s a good question! Even the noble Ned Stark carried Ice as if it wasn’t a product of the evils of that empire.

To another degree, while on the subject I would argue that the Nazi’s are actually not the best comparison for Valyria for several reasons outside of just abject cruelty and human exploitation being the major equivalent between the two. Nazi Germany was founded as a totalitarian dictatorship, whereas The Freehold was ruled by 40 families of varying levels of power and influence, Targs were actually low down on the totem pole here too. The structure and time it’s placed in for the story is really more akin to the empires of ancient Egypt or Roman Empire. George would probably opt for Ancient Egypt as the more fitting comparison in terms of advanced technology but also unhindered cruelty to the enslaved laborers. Even if the Freehold had been a singular ruler of evil it’s always strange to me that the Nazis are the only ones brought up in the discussion as if the regimes of Pol Pot, Ghengis Khan, King Leopold, etc. aren’t right there for comparison? Just strange that this fandom can only ever find Nazis as a comparison and no one else, whether this is laziness or ignorance I’m not sure. But okay just for the sake of argument let’s say Valyria is a total equivalent to Nazi Germany and their quest for world domination- where do we place the Targaryens in this respect? Would it not make sense to compare them to the scientists who defected from their condemnable countries like Werner von Braun or the USSR’s Kanatzhan “Ken” Alibek? After all the Targaryen’s came to Westeros and did not reinstate slavery, did not use blood magic, DID give people religious freedom, and abolished the law of First Night tradition. Does that make them inherently good? No, but there lies the crux of this whole discussion.

Trying to apply moral purity to these houses and societies is a messy and reductive take. George wrote these realistic stories and narratives because reality is a messy and often morally gray place. GRRM studies history and the attitude of historians is the nature of how he tries to write. I mean I personally can’t get enough about the history of the Ottoman empire and Mehmed II’s (known as Mehmed the Conqueror) siege of Constantinople. Other than inspiring a hit song obviously that event isn’t a happy historical moment and I don’t celebrate that campaign for its death toll but for other reasons it’s an incredible feat. I see a lot of comparison points for Aegon I and Mehmed II however and shit like this to me is more enriching to the texts.

So again, was the Empire itself an inherently evil force, yes absolutely. However, doesn’t that also add more nuance to the Doom? The greatest theory I’ve seen suggesting that the slaves rose up in anger and turned to the early foundation of the Faceless men to kill the Fire Mages who kept the 14 flames at bay and this resulting in the collapse of the Freehold. In this respect, the Valyrians paid the ultimate price for their lust for power, greed and cruelty. It’s actually metal as fuck that this is likely the way things went down. So perhaps I should clarify , an empirical evil provides privilege for those at the top, those who reject that society (remember that the Targaryens were looked at as traitors and cowards for leaving[they literally called him Aenar the Exile]) have choices to make. What determines the label of evil is an amalgamation of intent, opportunity, circumstance and actions (Aegon I vs Maegor). Is it implausible to look at the Targaryens as foils for their own society and suggest perhaps the survivors could look at the Doom as a biblical warning like the story of Moses and the Egyptians? In the sense that, this was a retribution of their society’s evils and they should learn to never repeat these sins.

After all, dragons and incest are the only Valyrian things they brought with them to Westeros, slavery and blood magic did not have a rebirth in Westeros. (Westeros also participated in incest but only at the level of cousins but again this a weak leg to stand on.) If it had gone that way THEN that would be a major case. So? Targaryen madness you might think? Well that’s been proven to be mostly propaganda peddled but Westerosi citizens because the evidence shows that of the Targaryen rule: 9 Targaryens have been mad throughout history while 27 have been great, 4 have been a little bit of both and 35 have been neither mad or great. Kind of like the Roman Empire only having “The 5 Good Emperors” and one of which, Marcus Aurelius, is still celebrated for his insights outside the context of the Empire. It would also be a Targaryen princess who would go on to free slaves and kill slave masters in Essos because plenty of people interacting with this post are willfully ignorant of the fact that Ghis, and several other of the Essos cities participated in slavery before and after the Valyrians.

It’s the same arguments as labeling everything in ASIOF universe as a war crime when none of these mfs ever went to the Geneva Conventions. If they did BOY would Tywin Lannister have gotten the electric chair, because even a “noble man of Westeros” could commit VILE and heinous acts of evil but get off effectively Scot free. Trying to paint this world with broad strokes doesn’t really work, because not everyone in Westeros is the noble honorable Ned Stark and it’s a gross misinterpretation to suggest that’s the case. Just as much as it’s disingenuous to act like Essos was a nice equitable place before the Valyrians when textually that’s not accurate either. Did the Valyrians do horrible shit? Yes. Is that the only evil in the world then? No. The people who practiced dark magic, necromancy, pyromancy and blood magic from Asshai certainly deserve to be brought into the discussions. However, almost never hear a word about that.

So just to reiterate, yes the Valyrians and Nazis were both evil powers. Slavery is wrong. Blood magic is fucked up. Sometimes people or families come from backgrounds of these evil super powers and either repeat or break their cycles. The difference between these actions really determines the character or in the case of a ruling monarch, their reign is defined by this. A Targaryen reflecting back on Valyria with the strict focus on architecture is not indicative of celebrating slavery (because once again, the slaves didn’t build those buildings or Dragonstone) because if Viserys or any other ruling Targ truly wanted to celebrate that well then they could just make it happen! An absolute monarchy means at any moment slavery could be made law once again, while it might be contested it was well within the realm of possibility if that’s what the King so chooses. Since that isn’t that case, it was worth the elaboration.

While I find it a little ridiculous to even be this pedantic about it I feel it necessary because this fandom loves to try to post from a moral high horse and many of them cannot even reach the proverbial saddle. George made it apparent that these characters and stories are meant to challenge us in the way of just white knights and mustache twirling villains.

I can’t believe what a point of contention this has become. I genuinely cannot understand the animosity towards it lol

Seriously post after post bitching and crying and begging for this to be destroyed - now besides how grossly disrespectful that would be to the stone masons who worked on this for years - it’s bizarre? I understand the criticism against Viserys (as a father, husband, King) but as a Targaryen - this endeavor is probably the most noble. So, while I see the childish thought process behind “smashing his legos” - come on be ffr.

The Doom of Valyria was catastrophic and while I’m hesitant to call it a “lost civilization” it is akin to the Atlantian mythology in nature and description. It’s not only the ancestral home of Houses Targaryen and Velaryon, but it was a major hub of magic, the most advanced city in the known world and likely the place of origin of the Faceless Men. The Doom is endlessly fascinating, from its predictions to the sheer cataclysmic scale of it all. I mean 14 volcanoes erupting at once would make Pompeiis explosion look like a candle to the sun.

Recreating Valyria by painstakingly pouring over texts to replicate what once was is a tragic echo that reverberates through generations. And for a fandom that shouts back and forth about “true Targaryen” definitions it seems most of those don’t care for that echo. The epic demise of a homeland filled with magic and dragons that are never to be seen again should be more than a foot note. A generational trauma that follows every Targaryen - the ever present fear that the Doom will swallow them too - down to Dany and her dragons which would have seemingly signified the return of magic long lost. How could any “true” Targaryen have anything but heartache over the loss of Valyria and the Freehold? How could they not be plagued with the weight on their shoulders that none in Westeros could truly sympathize with?

And I’ve long held a grudge against HBO for the way they mistreat Magic (and race, gender, sexuality, etc) in these fantasy series (no I’m never going to forgive them ESPECIALLY in HotD for not doing the CGI purple eyes [somehow Witcher had it in the budget AND it looked good] because of how much that trait was a distinctly other/outsider signifier) but this stupid little model is actually one of only additions I respect. Because while it can be viewed as some petty distraction for a physically deteriorating chronically ill history buff to get away from his kids - it is the biggest symbol of devotion to Targaryen culture - way more than anything else in the series. So I’ll die on this hill. The legos must be protected.

[knightoflodis]

Tag 9 people to get to know better:

Tagged by @jadedaceofspades

Three ships:

Don’t really have any of these. Like. I do sometimes see characters and want them to have a strong relationship together, but that is rarely a romantic one and my feelings usually aren’t strong enough to stick in my head that hard. Also. Lots of ships would probably just be the main couple in a slice of life romance show

First ever ship:

Don’t really have one

Last song:

Old Town Road Lil Nas x

Last Film:

Ringing Bell (it’s sad, don’t watch it while drinking)

Currently reading:

I read comics and manga so I have a list a mile long and since I get updates for these things like once a month or couple times a year it could be anything. Going to give a couple highlights:

Hexware by Tim Seeley

How do we relationship? by Tamiful

Black Cloak by Kelly Thompson

And a whole bunch of other manga and comics

Currently consuming:

A lot of seasonal anime and trying to play Horizon Forbidden West

Tomo-Chan is a Girl, Don’t Toy with me Miss Nagatoro, Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess and the Genius Lady, and a bunch of others are on the top of my watch list so far

Currently Craving:

Ice cream

Tagging (I never know who to tag in these but will tag a couple people): @ace-pervert @dragon-says-goodnight @deepfriedanon @nightbringer24

[10blue10]

The Dragons of HTTYD

(To the tune of ‘Countries of the World’ from Animaniacs)

There’s Nadders and Nightmares And Gronckles and Flightmares And Zipplebacks, Firewyrms too Night Furies, Light Furies,   Triple Strykes, Razorwhips, Thunderdrums and Hackatoos

Gobsuckers, Hobblegrunts, And Silver Phantoms, Night Terrors and Typhoomerangs, Quakens, Eruptodons, Goregutters, Sentinels, Rockstompers and Snafflefangs

There’s Rumblehorns, Hotburples, Stormcutters, Flame Whippers, Shadow Wings, Terrors, Shockjaws, Red Deaths and Green Deaths, And Singetails and Shellfires, Hobgobblers and Scuttleclaws

Grapple Grounders and Groncicles Thunderpedes, Mudrakers, Screaming and Whispering Deaths, Snifflehunch, Thunderclaw, Windgnashers, Egg Biters, Grim Gnashers, and Purple Deaths

There’s Devilish Dervishes, Raincutters, Shivertooths, Speed Stingers, Thornridges, Death Songs, Timberjacks, Ripwreckers, Sand Wraiths and Seashockers, Tide Gliders and Dramillions

Bewilderbeasts, Fathomfins, Scauldrons and Windwalkers, Submarippers, and also Krayfins Boneknappers, Buffalords, Sandbusters and Smokebreaths, Snaptrappers, Sweet Deaths and Changewings

There’s Silkspanners, Slitherwings, Slithersongs, Sword Stealers, Deathgrippers, Skrills, and Armorwings Cavern Crashers and Snow Wraiths, Then Threadtails and Shovelhelms, Windstrikers, Sliquifiers, Prickleboggles, And Foreverwings!

[ladyfogg]

We Live for Love - Part 1

We Live for Love – Part 1

Fic Summary: Eddie is recovering in the hospital where you’re volunteering. The whole town may have shunned him but you refuse to do the same. Masterpost. 

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Female Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Language, Season Finale Spoilers

Fic Song: We Live for Love by Pat Benatar. Full fic playlist on Spotify.

A/N: Alright, so I had the idea, and because I can’t seem to help myself I started writing. This is definitely a fix-it fic because our boy deserved so much better! I’m not sure how many parts this is going to be. Probably somewhere around three or so. This fic is eventually going to have smut which is why it’s 18+. Minors DNI!

You never thought you would actually see an apocalypse up close.

At least, that’s what you feel happened. One minute you’re closing up the shop for the night and the next large flaming red cracks are splitting the road apart and everything is shaking like crazy. By the time it’s done, everything around you is in ruins.

You escape relatively unscathed. The same cannot be said for the rest of Hawkins. You aren’t even supposed to be there. Your plan was to go to the local community college for a year before moving on to a bigger university.

Yeah, that never happened.

School isn’t your thing. Maybe it had been when you were younger but it definitely isn’t now and you have no idea what you want to do with your life. You gave up after a year and found your way back home. You got a job at the town bookstore and spent the year working, reading, and generally having more fun than you’ve ever had in your entire life. It’s like, as soon as the weight of expectations was lifted, you were finally able to breathe.

And then the world ended.

You don’t have too many skills that can be useful. You choose to volunteer at the hospital since it was the busiest and full to the brim with victims. With so many people missing or presumed dead, they need all the help they can get. Occasionally, you help orderlies stock rooms or change linens, but mostly you try to help the patients pass the time.

Today is no exception. You get there a little later than you anticipate. The roads that aren’t torn up are filled with people leaving or emergency vehicles responding. You’ve taken to walking because it’s the quickest way to get around. When you arrive, you put your bag down behind the nurse’s station.

“Any new rooms added to the list?” you ask, pulling your book cart out where it was jammed into the corner, kept out of the way.

The nurse puts a slip of paper in your hand with a list of rooms. Most of the hospital is being run by generators so anything non-essential, like TV, isn’t available in patient rooms. You volunteered to pass books out to those reading to loved ones or people who are stuck recovering. It’s not much but it’s what you can offer. The bookstore and your little apartment above it barely survived the catastrophe. Your landlord and manager didn’t which left the store to you. At least, you assume as much. No one cares enough right now to argue.

Every morning you gather a bundle of books and deliver them throughout the hospital to lend out. You’ve also donated several boxes to the school which is now a shelter.

You scan the list in your hand and notice it skips over a room number. “Hey, what about room twenty?”

“You don’t need to go in there.”

“Why not?”

“That’s where Eddie Munson is.”

Shit. Eddie is here?

You knew Eddie from school and were in the same year until you graduated and he was held back. You even spoke to him on occasion but that was as far as it went. He had his Hellfire club and, though you’d been interested in Dungeons and Dragons, the fact that it was all guys didn’t exactly make you feel comfortable enough to give it a try. At least not while in high school. You played a bit in college and even stocked a section of the bookstore with D&D stuff. Before the stupid Satanic Panic set in and you had to take it all down.

“Why shouldn’t I go in? Is he in bad shape?”

The nurse makes a face. “You know what they say about him right?”

“That he’s innocent,” you remind her. “Remember, the Sinclair kids said that Jason Carver was behind everything. He was even seen buying weapons and ammo. They found a stash in his car. He knew the victims. It all fits.”

“Well, yes, that’s what they say,” the nurse says. “But, that Munson kid…”

“Didn’t do anything wrong.”

The nurse doesn’t look convinced. “If you want to go in there, be my guest.”

You add Eddie’s room to your list, more than a little annoyed at the nurse. People like her remind you why you wanted to get out of Hawkins in the first place. You make your rounds, checking in with patients you’ve come to know and introducing yourself to new ones.

Lucas Sinclair is still by Max Mayfield’s bedside. He’s reading from the book you brought him yesterday, so rather than interrupt, you leave two more on the table next to him. He gives you a grateful smile and you move on.

You don’t know why you save Eddie’s room for last.

Maybe because you’re not sure how your presence will be received. Maybe you’re a little intimidated. Or maybe because you still harbor a very slight crush on him. That last part surprises you. You aren’t expecting the feelings to come rushing back and they had the second that nurse said his name. It’s been two years. You thought you were over your feelings but apparently not.

You give yourself a pep talk, tell yourself to get it together because you doubt he remembers you. You shared a couple of classes once upon a time. It’s then that you realize it’s been about five minutes and you’re starting to get funny looks standing there in the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, you push your cart to the half-closed door and knock.

“Come in.”

You push the door open with your cart.

“Henderson, seriously, I appreciate it but you don’t have to come to see me every…” Eddie turns to look at you and his smile fades a little. “…day.”

“Hey, Eddie.”

He says your name and it’s so soft, so tender, it takes your breath away. He clearly remembers you. And if the way his eyes are taking you in, your presence is greatly appreciated. You stare into his eyes, seeing a flood of emotion. You’re not exactly sure which emotions because you’re too busy taking him in as well.

He looks good. Well, as good as someone in the hospital who’s covered in bandages can look. He’s wearing a hospital gown but you can see his arms are wrapped in gauze and so is his forehead. Other than that, and some bruising on his face, he’s relatively intact.

“Hey! Um…wh-what are you, um, doing here?” He adjusts himself against the head of the bed and folds his arms, trying to appear nonchalant and chill.

“Volunteering,” you say, motioning to the books. “Thought you could use some company. Mind if I stay?”

“Yeah, I mean, no, no I don’t mind. Yes, please stay.” It’s cute to see him flustered and babbling. You’ve never seen him that way before. “I didn’t think you were still around.”

“I wasn’t. Not for a year or so but I’ve been back for a while now.”

“Cool, cool,” Eddie nods as if you’ve said the most interesting thing in the world. “What have you been up to?”

“You mean before the apocalypse?”

He grins. That wide goofy grin that is somehow more adorable than you remember. “Yeah, before that.”

“Not much. I work at that little bookstore on East Street. Well, I guess I own it now.” Your hands fidget on the handle of the cart. Your heart is racing and you have no idea how to get it to stop. You think for a second before taking the empty chair in the corner of the room and dragging it over next to his bed. You sit down. “What about you? You seem like you’re doing well for a murdering Satanic cult leader.”

He rolls his eyes. “So you heard about all that?”

“Oh yeah.”

He gives you a look out of the corner of his eye. “And yet you’re still talking to me.”

“Even before Jason Carver was found out I knew you didn’t do it,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “Never believed the police for a second.”

“Why not?”

You study him as he stares at you with those big eyes and your heart melts even more. “It just…didn’t seem like you,” you tell him. “Besides, the whole thing with D&D being satanic is just bullshit. I’ve played and I never once worshiped Satan.”

“Then you must not have played it right.”

You know he’s joking. He can’t keep himself from grinning when he says it and it makes you laugh. “Maybe not. I was actually thinking of doing D&D nights at the bookstore once things calm down a little. You know, give some people an outlet to deal with all this.”

“Count me in.”

He says it without hesitation, without even a second thought. The conversations between you had been simple in school but you don’t remember them being this easy. It’s like no time has passed at all. Like you’re talking to an old close friend.

“I actually have a confession to make,” you say. “I really wanted to join Hellfire when I was in school.”

Just when you think his eyes can’t get wider, he gives you a wide-eyed stare. “Come on, you’re messing with me!” he says.

“Nope, I swear, it’s true.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You and your buddies didn’t exactly seem open to a chick joining.”

“I would have totally let you join!”

You laugh again. “Oh, really? You would have let a newbie just roll a new character and stumble her way through a game.”

“Of course!” He gives you a lopsided grin. “I would have even offered private tutoring after.”

Your face grows warm. As does the rest of you. This is not how you anticipated this talk to go. In fact, he’s a hell of a lot more upbeat than you would guess he would be. Never in a million years did you think he would be so happy to see you. Or would be so flirty. Was he always this flirty? Well, yeah now that you think about it, he was. But you always assumed that’s just the way he was. Maybe you were wrong.  

“So, what happened?” you ask, clearing your throat and trying to think of anything other than how much you want to lay a kiss on that adorable smile of his. You motion to his injuries, which he glances down at.

“Oh, you know, earthquake stuff.”

He doesn’t elaborate and you get the sense that he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t matter. He’s here and seems in relatively good spirits. Definitely more upbeat than he probably has any right to be feeling. You wouldn’t be smiling if you had to deal with the whole town thinking you did something you didn’t, especially while trying to recover from what looks like serious injuries.  

“Well, not sure how long you’re stuck in here, but I have books!” You pull your cart over, remembering the whole reason you’re supposed to be there.

“Sweet! What do you have?”

You reach onto the shelf and pull out The Fellowship of the Ring. “Something tells me this is right up your alley.”

He pumps his fist excitedly before winces in pain. “Aw, shit!” he exclaims, clutching his side.

Instinctively you reach for him, your hand touching his as you lean in. “Are you okay?”

It’s like a jolt of electricity shoots from his touch. Your entire body comes alive and you’re suddenly super aware of everything about him. Those eyes, those lips, that smile, the proximity of his body. His eyes find yours and you two stare at each other in silence. You’ve never been this close to Eddie, never touched him in any way. It’s like you two are magnets, being drawn together by an invisible force.

“I’m good. Especially now that you’re here,” he says. It’s soft, barely above a whisper. His fingers link with yours and you swear your heart actually stops.

Everything around you fades and goes silent, the only sounds are your labored breathing and Eddie’s shallow breaths. Fuck. Fuck. All you need to do is lean in. His lips are RIGHT THERE. You feel yourself leaning forward before your brain can second guess. Eddie moves too, gently caressing your chin with his thumb…

“Hey, Eddie! I brought you some comics!”

The door suddenly bangs open and you jump back with a start. Eddie does too, wincing again and swearing under his breath as he grips his bandaged torso. You turn your head to see a young kid standing there, arms full of comics. Well, kid isn’t exactly the right word. He’s definitely younger than you and Eddie by a couple of years but probably is around the age of a freshman. He doesn’t notice you until he looks up from the pile of comics in his arms. Only then does his mouth falls open.

“Oh…sorry,” he says, looking between the two of you.

“No worries, I should probably get going anyway.”

You’re chickening out. Yup, that’s exactly what you’re going to do. The air has been sucked out of the room, your heart is racing, and your head is spinning. Eddie stares as you get to your feet and grab your cart. You motion to the book which lays forgotten next to him on the bed where he dropped it.

“Enjoy.”

Before you can move, he reaches out to gently grab your wrist. “Are you coming back tomorrow?” he asks.

Fuck, those big puppy dog eyes. That hopeful look. How can you say no? It’s not like you were going to anyway. “First thing in the morning,” you say. “See ya, Munson.”

You push your cart past the kid who is mostly still standing in the door and has to jump out of the way to let you go. Once outside the room, you can breathe a little better but your heart is still racing. It’s like your entire body is doused in flames and nothing is going to put them out. You suck in a lung full of air, leaning against the wall for support.

Where the fuck did that come from?! Okay, you know where it came from on your end but, fuck, dude. Almost kissing Eddie Munson was not on the list of things you assumed would happen today. Part of you is supremely pissed you were interrupted. That kiss is years in the making, alright. You’ve been fantasizing about it longer than you can remember.

Apparently, you’re not the only one pissed. From inside the room, you hear Eddie’s voice raise several octaves.  

“God damn it, Henderson! You have the worst timing!”

[ammonitetheseaserpent]

So uh. I get the newest Imagine Dragons song stuck in my head, and suddenly I’m b u r s t i n g with ideas about Bill’s backstory, the history of the Titan Trappers, their relations to the Collector (and even some good old-fashioned speculation on how things might play out in the future if they made a return and showed up on the Isles) - allll kinds of stuff. As ya do.

I am planning to make an animatic with the song and these ideas (once I get a good but simple enough animation/editing program, figure out how to sync drawings to music; fun shtuff) but for now, you shall all be presented with a good old-fashioned infodump! :D

Backstory Headcanons

Bill comes from a place where the locals are fascinated by the Collector and question why the Titans are worshipped - also mistaking the Collector’s rather aggressive, chasing-and-throwing-things-oriented games he plays w/ the Titans as deliberately hunting them down and killing them. Bill always sort of felt like he was destined to do something big, and one day, at a young age, he came across the Collector’s disc. Upon realizing who he’s just found, Bill saw this as a massive opportunity.

The Collector explained that they were imprisoned, and needed Titan blood to be freed. So, Bill gathered a whole party of people from his (village? Idk) and set out to slay a Titan. They came across a young one and successfully took it down, leading to Bill realizing that these Titan guys aren’t invincible.

He took the Titan’s skull and wore it as a trophy, then went back to the Collector and freed them. As thanks, the star gremlin granted Bill longevity, and the two began to bond a bit, for a little while.

When King’s dad found out that the one who was known for accidentally killing Titans with his questionably hunter-and-prey-esque games (and insisted vehemently to play with King while the little guy hadn’t even hatched) was now being buddy-buddy with a guy who had deliberately organized the murder of a young Titan and now wears its skull, he put the Collector back into gay baby jail.

Once the news reached Bill (maybe by him crossing the now broken tablet he probably kept and feeling a flicker of their presence through it), he took this as proof that the Titans are not just unworthy of worship, but downright evil and must be purged. He abandoned his last shreds of decency and officially assembled the Titan Trappers under a banner of power-hungry lies and false hopes that the “Grand Huntsman” will bring glory to them all, with multiple generations eventually being able to finish off the Titans altogether, fully convinced that this is what the Collector wants.

Future-Event Speculation

Bill and the Titan Trappers find a way to get to the Boiling Isles. Unbeknownst to them, King and the Collector see them coming, and King stresses that they will definitely take him away if they find him, so the two hide. When night falls, Bill sends out a few small, stealthy search parties for King, leading one of them himself. His search party comes across King, at which point he orders the others to each go back and grab one of the other search parties to alert them and bring them back to the rest of the cult. Then, he swipes King himself. When the Collector finds King gone and realizes he’s been taken, they’re incensed. During his search, the deity comes across the Titan Trappers and lashes out at them, demanding to know where King is.

When Bill gets back w/ King and sees that the Collector is free and absolutely ravaging his cult, he takes this as a moment of triumph and reveals his lie, proclaiming that the Grand Huntsman is going to give glory only to him, as the original Titan Slayer and thus the “only worthy one”. The Collector descends and Bill obliviously lifts his arms in glee, thinking a blessing is on the way, only for the star child to strike him dead for stealing away their playmate.