#there's actually a bigger piece from his chapter that i want to draw

[kinaesthetiqueer]

doodle of a scene from chapter 17 of On the Run from Tomorrow, my missing scene fic that i wrote to process JNR post v3 grief. i avoided a final edit pass for this chapter for a week because it's so utterly gut wrenching, but it's cathartic and lovingly written, i swear.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

There are so many places in the Villeneuve Dune adaptations where he just...takes all the narrative pieces that Frank Herbert laid out and subtly rearranges them into something that tells the story better--that creates dramatic tension where you need it, communicates the themes and message of the book more clearly, or corrects something in the text that contradicts or undermines what Herbert said he was trying to say.

The fedaykin are probably my favorite example of this. I just re-read a little part of the book and got smacked in the face with how different they are.

(under the cut for book spoilers and length)

The fedaykin in the book are Paul's personal followers, sort of his personal guard. They show up after his legend has already started growing (the word doesn't appear in the book until chapter 40) and they are people who have specifically dedicated themselves to fighting for him, and right from the moment they're introduced there is a kind of implied fanaticism to their militancy that's a bit uncomfortable to read. They're the most ardent believers in Paul's messianic status and willing to die for him. (They are also, as far as you can tell from the text, all men.)

In the book, as far as I can remember (I could be forgetting some small detail but I don't think so) there is no mention of armed resistance to colonialism on Arrakis before Paul shows up. As far as we know, he created it. ETA: Okay I actually went back and checked on this and while we hear about the Fremen being "a thorn in the side" of the Harkonnens and we know that they are good fighters, we don't see anything other than possibly one bit of industrial sabotage. The book is very clear that the organized military force we see in the second half was armed and trained by Paul. This is exacerbated by the two-year time jump in the book, which means we never see how Paul goes from being a newly deposed ex-colonial overlord running for his life to someone who has his own private militia of people ready to give their lives for him.

The movie completely flips all these dynamics on their head in ways that add up to a radical change in meaning.

The fedaykin in the movie are an already-existing guerrilla resistance movement on Arrakis that formed long before Paul showed up. Literally the first thing we learn about the Fremen, less that two minutes into the first movie, is that they are fighting back against the colonization and exploitation of their home and have been for decades.

The movie fedaykin also start out being the most skeptical of the prophecy about Paul, which is a great choice from both a political and a character standpoint. Of course they're skeptical. If you're part of a small guerrilla force repeatedly going up against a much bigger and stronger imperial army...you have to believe in your own agency. You have to believe that it is possible to win, and that this tiny little chip in the armor of a giant terrifying military machine that you are making right now will make a difference in the end. These are the people who are directly on the front lines of resisting oppression. They are doing it with their own sweat, blood and ingenuity, and they are not about to wait around for some messiah who may never come.

From a character standpoint, this is really the best possible environment you could put Paul Atreides in if you want to keep him humble. He doesn't get any automatic respect handed to him due to title or birthright or religious belief. He has to prove himself--not as any kind of savior but as a good fighter and a reliable member of a collective political project. And he does. This is an environment that really draws out his best qualities. He's a skilled fighter; he's brave (sometimes recklessly so); he's intensely loyal to and protective of people he cares about. He is not too proud to learn from others and work hard in an egalitarian environment where he gets no special treatment or extra glory. The longer he spends with the fedaykin the more his allegiance shifts from Atreides to Fremen, and the more skeptical he himself becomes about the prophecy. This sets up the conflict with Jessica, which comes to a head before she leaves for the south. And his political sincerity--that he genuinely comes to believe that these people deserve liberation from all colonial forces and his only role should be to help where he can--is what makes the tragedy work. Because in the end we know he will betray all these values and become the exact thing he said he didn't want to be.

There's another layer of meaning to all this that I don't know if the filmmakers were even aware of. ETA: rescinding my doubt cause based on some of Villeneuve's other projects I'm pretty sure he could work it out. Given the time period (1960s) and Herbert's propensity for using Arabic or Arabic-inspired words for aspects of Fremen culture, it seems very likely that the made-up word fedaykin was taken from fedayeen, a real Arabic word that was frequently used untranslated in American news media at the time, usually to refer to Palestinian armed resistance groups.

Fedayeen is usually translated into English as fighter, guerrilla, militant or something similar. The translation of fedaykin that Herbert provides in Dune is "death commando"...which is a whole bucket of yikes in my opinion, but it's not entirely absurd if we're assuming that this fake word and the real word fedayeen function in the same way. A more literal translation of fedayeen is "self-sacrificer," as in willing, intentional self-sacrifice for a political cause, up to and including sacrificing your life.

If you apply this logic to Dune, it means that Villeneuve has actually shifted the meaning of this word in-universe, from fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for Paul to fighters who are willing to sacrifice themselves for their people. And the fedaykin are no longer a group created for Paul but a group that Paul counts himself as part of, one member among equals. Which is just WILDLY different from what's in the book. And so much better in my opinion.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 6

(Quickly running out of Monster men drawings to use as my chapter pictures. May be a hot minute until I get the next chapter out since my laptop can barely stay conscious long enough to draw another one and I want to only use the monster AU versions of the characters for this series.)

Warnings; multiple yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, monster AU, eating Humans mentioned, more AU history, Cater is not having a very Cay-Cay day, food is an excellent way to bring groups together, Fauns, Satyrs, Kelpies, Crow Fae, Unicorns, Water Nymphs, vampire bats, dragons, cervitaurs, Raiju, Mermen, Cecaelia, Gnolls,

~~~~~~~~

Lunch finally rolled around and you were surprised that Ace and Deuce had actually taken Trey's words seriously and accompanied you to classes. Ace had loudly complained about his volunteering for a little bit but once he saw how many students actually took an interest in you, he stopped complaining and started viewing the task as a kind of important role only he could do. Naturally, Deuce was far less irate about the situation though there were times he almost came across as a punk when it came to others trying to harass you. Both had adjusted well to being around you and come lunch Deuce was actually taking pride in explaining things to you.

"-and that's what makes Fauns different from Satyrs."

"So Fauns are the nicer version of Satyrs?"

"For the most part. Satyrs are known for being loud and always wanting to fight-"

Ace cut Deuce off, shoving an uncooked carrot into the Faun's mouth to silence him. You had seen the two interact and you got the distinct feeling that the Faun and Satyr had more of a brotherly relationship with one another. Where they both had different personalities, when they did agree on something it was practically a law to them.

It was fascinating to hear that these monster men had similar names to the mythical creatures from your world and you wondered why such an overlap existed. Maybe the Humans from your world did interact with this world in the past, or maybe it was just a coincidence. Still, it seemed almost too close to be mere coincidence.

"Anyway, now that Dunce here is done talking-"

"You know my name is Deuce-"

"Like I said, now that Dunce is done talking, I have questions for you, (Y/n)."

You almost laughed at the back and forth banter of the two Goats- Faun and Satyr respectively- as their voices fumbled over one another. Truth was, you had been expecting far more questions than the few they threw at you between classes, so now was as good a time as any to ask.

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"So, you don't have magic? Like, at all?"

"No magic whatsoever. Where I came from, magic is a myth and no creatures have magic."

"Okay. But how do Humans survive? No horns, no claws, nothing to protect themselves from bigger creatures."

"We make weapons. I know you all have bows, arrows, and knives, we have the same. Guns too, but I haven't seen any guns used here."

"Wait, what is a gun?"

"Basically an automatic bow that fires little pieces of metal using explosive powder that needs a spark which launches the metal through their target."

Ace seemed almost excited by your vague explanation of a gun, opening his mouth to ask you another question. His voice died in his throat as his gaze locked onto something behind you, prompting you to turn around to look at whatever it was that had unsettled Ace.

Standing not too far from you was the large figure of the Horse-man Trey. Ace told you he was a Kelpie, but you just couldn't make that connection seeing as he looked like a big white horse and not a water kelp-horse like Kelpies were supposed to be. He was clearly making good on his threat to check in as he approached you with a patient smile on his face.

"Hello (Y/n), have Heartslabyul's first-years been adequate guides for you today?"

"Yes. Grim doesn't even have to try half as hard to keep me safe now and I haven't been late to any of my classes other than the first one."

Trey gave a genuine smile at this, nodding his head as he was pleased to know his choice had been a good one. Seeing the centaur made you wonder about Cater and what may have become of the air-head student. In some ways, you worried asking would have a negative effect, but you were so curious you couldn't help but inquire about him.

"So... What happened to Cater?"

"He is being dealt with by the Headmage. He's lucky he isn't going to get expelled for what he did, but once the Headmage is done with his punishment, he's going to be turned over to Riddle."

"Is Riddle mad about all of this?"

"Well... I actually haven't told Riddle yet. He has a short fuse and isn't going to take Cater's actions well, especially since he asked both Cater and I to protect you if we happened across you. Odds are Cater is going to be collared and kicked out of his room for the foreseeable future."

This made you frown in contemplation at the prospect of the Red-haired student being punished too harshly. Though you were upset Cater took photos of you without asking and likely set several poachers on your trail, you didn't want harm to come to him. Sure, he was stupid and made a stupid choice, but he shouldn't be hurt or kicked out of his home for it.

"... If he is kicked out of his room, is there anywhere else he can go?"

"No. Riddle is very strict about rule-breakers being banned from the dorms so long as they have one of his collars on, and most other dorms aren't keen to house a student that isn't theirs. He's probably going to be sleeping in the Heartslabyul lake if Riddle doesn't ban him from there too."

The morality of the issue weighed on you and made you worry about the ditzy redhead. Though you didn't really trust Cater or his clearly impaired decision making skills, you still felt like he deserved basic decency despite his actions. You knew firsthand how the creatures that lived around campus were genuinely terrifying and dangerous, so you didn't want him thrown to the metaphorical or actual wolves.

"Can... can Cater stay in my dorm?"

Your question earned you several dubious looks from the Goats and Trey as if you had grown another head or said something unhinged. Even Grim had to pause his hesitant raw veggie medley- the only thing the cafeteria served today- to stare at you in surprise.

"You- you want Cater in your dorm? Why?"

"Well, it wasn't like he knew what he was doing was bad, and I don't think he should be left outside for his poor choice."

"(Y/n), do you realize how vicious poachers are in Twisted Wonderland? You will be hunted every moment of every day because Cater couldn't keep himself from posting you to that stupid Magicam app he is obsessed with. The second you are unguarded you will be attacked. The Headmage is even considering assigning Sam and Vargas to your dorm just to make sure poachers can't get in, or even moving you to Diasomnia so Malleus can protect you. I don't think you understand just how seriously we need to take your safety."

"I'm just a Human though, I'm not a princess or someone important. Why all the fuss?"

Your comment made Trey let out a long and exasperated sigh, his gaze leaving your confused form as he tried to keep in mind just how new you were to their world. Humans were never just Humans in Twisted Wonderland, and them simply dying out has made a far felt ripple in the history of every known species. For so long, so many species had adored and tried to protect Humans, but even they couldn't save the fragile species from the hunger so many magic users had for their very flesh.

Most things in the technological realm and cooking realm- pastries and phones included- only existed because Humans led the way to them being invented. Even now, technology has been mostly stagnant for over a hundred years with only the Shrouds having any aptitude as far as advancements were concerned. Trey himself had Humanity to thank for his family's bakery and the many cuisines local to the Queendom of Roses.

"(Y/n), Humans have never been 'just Humans' to us. Maybe to Sunset Savana, but never to the Queendom of Roses. Even Briar Valley had laws in place to protect your kind from everyone else. I get you may not understand it, but compared to most other species, Humans were better than most in the emotional and critical thinking department. It was Humans creating new inventions, coming up with unique ideas, and above all else, peacekeeping between the various species and races to the point they were called Beast-Tamers. Most wouldn't even speak to their Fae counterparts until Humans got the two to interact amicably."

You were somewhat surprised to hear all of this, having been under the impression that Humans were mainly pets to the other species. It was interesting to hear what Humans were credited for and that despite all they did to help, they were still hunted as food until extinction. The few from Savanaclaw you interacted with had been both sides of the spectrum of threatening you or being peaceful to you and it made you wonder just what kind of species were still keen to get a taste of your forbidden flesh.

"Honestly," Trey continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if several Kingdoms and Queendoms sent ambassadors to take you away from Night Raven for your own safety. I just know the international law makers are going to have a field day the moment it becomes common knowledge that you're here."

It made sense that Trey was stressed about this, you knew from your own home how aggressively endangered and near-extinct species had to be protected, but you still felt Cater shouldn't carry all the blame. If it wasn't Cater, it would have been someone else. Just because he was the fool to do it first didn't mean that others wouldn't have tried or succeeded in the same endeavor.

"Still, if he gets kicked out of the dorms tonight, will you at least tell him I will let him stay with me?"

"If you really want me to," he sighed heavily, "I guess I can tell Cater about your offer. I won't tell Riddle though, knowing how that Unicorn is, he will actually harm Cater for even thinking about taking shelter with you after what he's done."

~•§•~

"HE DID WHAT?!"

Riddle was beside himself with rage and even stomped his hooves against the marble floors of the Headmage's office, almost cracking the stone with his rage. Cater was trying to sink into his chair and hide from the Sophomore Housewarden who was beyond the point of furious with the water Nymph. Not only did he get a dressing-down from the Headmage, but he was going to be thrown at the mercy of his own Housewarden who was known for being an absolute hard-ass on rule breakers.

"It wasn't like I was trying to target her! I just-"

"SILENCE! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO, CATER DIAMOND!"

The firm tone Riddle used made Cater shut his mouth and bow his head, trying to avoid upsetting the Unicorn further. There was no way he would be able to go back to his room at this rate and odds are he would be sleeping in the forest if Riddle had anything to say about it. Plus, he still had that essay to write for Trein that was due tomorrow.

"He apparently took a selfie with (Y/n) and posted it to Magicam with hashtags indicating she is Human. By the time I got him to delete the post, it had been downloaded several thousand times. Since then I have already received a call from the Royal Sword Academy Headmage to confirm a Human lives here now, and what we as the heads of our schools can do to protect her. No doubt representatives from Briar Valley and the Queendom of Roses have already been dispatched and will arrive on the island soon enough, not to mention how many poachers are likely on their way here as we speak."

Cater knew how upset Riddle was given the fact the Unicorn's horn was humming loudly with magic and the Unicorn himself was a bright red. Things really weren't coming up Cay-Cay today.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

~•§•~

You felt a bit more comfortable with the school as a whole by the time classes had finished for the day. Practical Magical Theory was an interesting class, even if you really didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. According to Ace, you were lucky you didn't have Flight Class because there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to participate in the class itself. Still, you were happy to have a moment to let things settle down for a bit.

Ace and Deuce walked you to your dorm, but had been called to Heartslabyul by a quick text from Trey, leaving you alone in the dorm with Grim. Despite the beginning of the day being an absolute wash, the rest of the day hadn't been too bad. It was around this time you decided you may as well start on making some dinner. You could hear Grim's stomach growling already as you both went to the kitchen.

"Are you gonna make something good like you did for breakfast?"

"I'm going to try to."

"What are you gonna make?"

"Well, I was thinking we have the stuff here for a really nice soup-"

You were promptly cut off by the Kitchen door swinging open with a loud bang. Clearly, you were going to have to tell the professors or even the Headmage Crow about securing that side door given how it had already been used twice by others seeking to get into your dorm. Luckily for you, those that walked through the door had at least two familiar faces in the group.

"Sorry for interrupting," Lilia called out, happily making his way over to you in an almost bouncy gait, much like a bird hopping around, "hope you don't mind I brought Malleus, Silver, and Sebek too. I heard one of the Heartslabyul students blew the whistle on you being here in NRC. Figured you could use a bit of extra protection in case any poachers try their luck. Besides, the nest here is just as big as Malleus' nest in Diasomnia."

It was then Malleus spoke, his voice a deep rumble in his chest as he looked over you.

"They will not lay a hand upon my hoard without paying with their lives for such a transgression."

It was clear the Dragon was not happy with the events that took place and he seemed to be quite content claiming you as one of his Hoard. When Lilia explained it to you last night, apparently the moment Malleus decided he was adding someone to his Hoard, he became extremely attached to that person and would even become violent in their defense. Given the way others talked about him, he must have been a genuinely frightening and powerful person to command such fear and respect.

"... So does that mean I'm making soup for all of you or..?"

"If you don't mind. I certainly want another bite of your cooking, (Y/n)!"

Lilia took his perch back on the counter and swung his feet, seeming rather impish and almost childish in his behavior. You just shrugged and nodded, gathering enough ingredients to feed the group several times over. Your hope was that there would be some left over for you to take during lunches. As nice as it was to have raw foods once in a while, you'd rather your meals be cooked.

Grim clearly only trusted Lilia and sat next to the Bat to watch you bustle around the kitchen. He even let out a soft purr when Lilia began to pet his forehead and ears. Where you would have scolded them for sitting on the counter, it wasn't like you didn't have enough counter space already. Starting the broth and preparation was rather simple for you and it was clear those standing around you were keen to watch you prepare the soup.

"(Y/n)," Grim meowed, "where did you learn to do all this fancy stuff?"

"Humans usually cook their food. So I just learned while growing up. Of course there are some things you can have without cooking, like a sandwich or a fruit salad, but most big meals are better cooked. Now, that doesn't mean every Human can cook well, but most are good enough at it."

"So does that mean I can have more of the food you cook?"

"Like a bigger portion? No. But you will always get to have some of whatever I make, okay?"

Grim purred loudly at this, his face lighting up with an excited smile. Clearly the little creature was pleased with your arrangement even if it meant he had to go to boring classes with you. The food was absolutely worth it and he got to sleep in a mountain of pillows and blankets after a long day. It was all way better than the hole in the ground he occupied when he wasn't actively running for his life before he met you.

Once you got most of the soup started, you knew it just needed to be covered and cooked, listening idly to Lilia talk with the others about the events of breakfast and the Gnoll that invited himself in. It was when you finally got this moment that you took a good look at the other two visitors who were either Silver or Sebek, seeing as Lilia didn't point out who was who.

Much to your surprise, one of them reminded you of the Kelpie and Unicorn you had met earlier but he had an obvious three point antler rack attached to his head. His lower half was that of a reindeer and was fairly fluffy compared to the short coats of the Kelpie and Unicorn. Part of you wanted to test if he was as soft as he looked, but you figured it would not be considered appropriate to pet him.

The second new face was an almost canine like man with pale green hair that was slicked back and spiked up at the ends. His eyes were intense as was the apparent scowl that held his features, two sharply pointed dog ears atop his head. Bright yellow-green eyes tracked your every move and regarded you with as much curiosity as you regarded him. The similar medium length tail fur swayed lazily as his tail slowly began to wag when you looked at him.

The soup was beginning to smell rather good and it was clear four of the five others in the kitchen were taking note as they occasionally sniffed the air. Lilia, Grim, Silver, and Sebek were clearly keenly interested in the scent but it was Malleus' behavior that caught your attention. Instead of sniffing or lifting his nose as the others did, his forked tongue slowly slid from between his lips like a snake as if he were tasting the air. You almost laughed at the oddly reptile behavior before his gaze suddenly snapped to the door of the kitchen.

Standing in the doorway was a curious looking man that seemed to have fins on the sides of his head. His almost scaled skin had a kind of faint green tint to it with intense blue undertones, his eyes being two different colors with the right one being a pale gray and the left one being a bright gold. Atop his head were tousled blue-green locks with a singular black stripe that crossed over his forehead above his left eye.

"Oya, it seems I'm not the only one with culinary interests. Apologies for intruding, but the lovely smell drew me in. Would you mind telling me what it is you're making?"

You were surprised to see the almost Fish-like man despite how polite he was being with you. Instead of hopping in to defend you, Lilia looked at you for what you wanted to do with this interloper. Malleus seemed rather keen to rid you of this newcomer's presence but you held up a hand to stop him from acting. Part of you worried this new visitor was dangerous, but because he was wearing a school uniform you figured he was just another student.

"Soup?"

"... May I ask what kind?"

"Only if you tell me your name first and what you were doing around my dorm."

"Ah, forgive me. It seems in my haste to get to the heart of the matter, I forgot my manners. My name is Jade Leech, I'm the Vice-Housewarden of Octavinelle. I'm going to assume from your appearance you are the highly talked-of Human now living on campus. Azul informed us that you would be remaining here for the time being. As for what I was doing, I am rather interested in the foods that grow wild above water, so I was out gathering some mushrooms to sample."

He lifted the foraging bag that hung over his shoulder, showing you the contents within. He was right in that he had gathered up a fair few number of mushrooms and there were several that you actually recognized. You were no master of mushrooms- of course- but you still recognized a few species that were safe for you to eat, seeing several button mushrooms among the many gathered.

Those would be great in the soup you were making, and it was early enough that you could add them right in and they would cook just fine.

"Okay, Jade. I believe you were at least out gathering mushrooms which is innocent enough. I'm actually curious if you wanted to trade for some of those button mushrooms you have, they'd go great in the soup I'm making. In return I'll tell you about it and you can have some to eat if you'd like."

Jade actually seemed to brighten up at this, his smile becoming less strained and his expression smoothing from the stressed way his brows had been pulled together. It was almost as if he had been wanting to ask for some soup but was far too polite to actually inquire. He nodded and set his bag on the counter, letting you pick out the little rounded white mushrooms from the selection he gathered.

"I'm quite partial to the cuisines the different kingdoms have to offer. Rare as it can be to find those who are masters of their craft, I would still like to sample the meals above the ocean waves. I would be grateful for whatever knowledge you can share with me. It isn't every day that someone adept at cooking graces this school."

"Hey," Grim interrupted loudly as you set to dicing the mushrooms, "that's my Hooman you're talking to! She only cooks for me, but I'm kind enough to share with all of you. Don't forget it, got it?"

Jade gave a rather patient simper to your primary companion, resting his right hand over his heart in an almost polite gesture.

"But of course. I'm simply interested in learning to make such meals for myself. I'm certain Azul and Floyd would be keen to taste such a wonderful smelling dish."

This seemed to satisfy your little companion as he nodded with a pleased smile, watching you add the mushrooms to the rather large pot you decided to make the soup in. Thankfully it was a cauldron type pot made for cooking soups over firepits. The fire so dutifully warming your meal crackled pleasantly even as you stirred the bubbling mixture.

"Do you want to ask them to come over, Jade? I made way too much. Honestly, everyone here could all have a bowl, a second bowl, and I would still have enough soup for the rest of the week. I think I went a little overboard in the food department. Should have probably started with a smaller pot, but we're already this far..."

Jade seemed surprised at this, but nodded respectfully and pulled out his phone. You were curious just what Jade was as you really hadn't seen many fish-men during your day, but you weren't going to ask him. If he wanted to tell you what he was, that was his business. Didn't make you any less curious though.

"If you're certain? I'm sure Floyd will be thrilled to have something new to try. He doesn't like some mushrooms, but I don't believe he has tried the ones you've selected, and he certainly hasn't tried cooked mushrooms yet. Azul may try to heckle you into a deal, however. He is always looking for new ways to improve the Monstro Lounge."

"Yeah, of course I'm certain. I offered, didn't I?"

He nodded and began tapping away at his phone, but Lilia seemed rather keen to speak up. The Bat had been listening keenly to the conversation and felt he needed to make himself clear to the notoriously crafty student.

"If Azul threatens (Y/n) or tries to force her into a deal, we will have more than a few problems, understood?"

"He is aware. Believe it or not, those of us from the Coral Sea are actually quite fond of the legacy of Humans. Even Floyd has been babbling excitedly about meeting (Y/n) here."

"That's right, Humans were popular among the various merfolk kingdoms. You all even have a famous story involving the mermaid princess falling for a Human and joining him on land."

"Yes. She struck a deal with The Sea Witch to gain legs she could use to dance for the Human man she fell in love with, too bad the deal didn't hide her gills or fins though. Still, the Human loved her."

You listened to the conversation as you stirred the soup, glad that all of the flavors seemed to be coming together rather well despite the large amount of food you found yourself making. Judging from the conversation Lilia and Jade happened to be having, Jade was a Merman of some kind and apparently Mermen were one of the 'safe species' for Humans to interact with. Though you knew not to judge an individual by the species, it did put you at ease to know he was one of the safer ones.

It was as you were taste testing the soup that the door to the kitchen once again flew open as another visitor invited themselves in. It was offical now, four times proved it was far too easy to get into your dorm through that door. Maybe Lilia would be able to fix it for you, or Malleus seeing as Lilia said it was the Dragon who had mostly fixed up your current abode.

"(Y/n), you're an absolute angel! I thought I was going to have to sleep in the woods once Riddle temporarily banned me from Heartslabuyl! He won't even let me sleep in the lake even though I'm a Lake Water Nymph because of what happened. You believe me when I say I didn't mean to put you in danger, right?"

Cater had thrown himself at your feet, holding onto your legs as if he were some abandoned pet seeking shelter from a blizzard. Around his neck was a thick metal collar that extended out to the sides in black and red colors, forming a heart-shape that locked in the front with a golden and black padlock. He was careful not to get in the fire that was dutifully cooking your soup even as he groveled at your feet.

"O-oi! What's the big idea with everyone coming in that door? It's dangerous to leave that thing unlocked."

"That's what I'm saying! So much for protected and safe with that thing in here."

You couldn't help but slightly grin at Grim as he voiced your own concerns out loud. Lilia simply regarded the door, snapping his fingers to close it as a large metal bolt affixed itself to the door before clicking into place.

"There. Now it can't be thrown open anymore. But why is Cater here? Cater, when did Riddle collar you and why?"

Cater seemed to realize there were others standing around you as he suddenly straightened up, clearing his throat and taking several steps back from you. He tried to play off the desperate display he had just shown and was failing miserably. Cater looked much worse for wear than you remembered him being and you genuinely began to hope the Unicorn hadn't actually harmed the ditzy redhead.

"Well... I may have 'accidentally' posted a picture that told everyone that (Y/n) was a Human and was on NRC grounds, but I totes didn't realize it would put her in danger! Honestly!"

Lilia's bemused smile almost instantly fell away into a glare as he regarded the man standing by your side. You added a bit of salt to the soup as you wated, watching the thick broth bubble and roil with vegtables and diced meat. There were a lot of things you could do in that moment, but something told you it was best to let Lilia handle this situation.

"And what did you think was going to happen, Cater?"

"Tbh, I thought that I would just get a follower count boost and everything would be fine. The Headmage and Riddle sure made it clear I was wrong for thinking that. Lessons learned!"

"It only cost us the safety of the last Human left in Twisted Wonderland."

"I said I was sorry!"

Everyone except Cater seemed to be exceptionally upset as they all glared at him, making him duck behind you as if you were the best shield from their rage. You just let the tall student try and fail to escape the ire of the others. For once, a polite knock came at the kitchen door, breaking off the aggressive staredown taking place.

"Hey, why are we here, Azul?"

An almost sing-song voice hummed from somewhere on the other side of the door, prompting Jade to walk over and open the door for who you assumed to be the two he was talking about. In strode a rather lovely looking man with snow-white hair and shining mauve blue eyes hidden behind thin framed glasses. Around his face were lovely and intricate black markings that reminded you quite a bit of the tentacles of an octopus. Behind him lumbered a rather tall man who almost looked identical to Jade if not for the swapped eye color and slight difference in height.

"We're here because Jade told me there is a profitable venture to be had and I am not going to miss out on this chance to make the Human's acquaintance, Floyd."

The shorter one hummed in a smooth voice and you almost giggled at the rather fact-of-the-matter tone that the white haired one spoke with. You felt it was safe to assume the rather lovely man was Azul and the near identical to Jade fish-man walking with him was Floyd.

Floyd almost made a show of sniffing the air, following his nose to where you stood in front of the pot of soup, watching him curiously. Once his gaze fell on you a wide grin overtook the slight frown he had been pouting with. You could see the way his eyes trailed over your figure due to the bright yellow of his right eye highlighting his pupil as it darted up and down.

"Ne ne, what is such a cute little Shrimpy doing this far above the water? You're so small I just want to squeeze ya."

He took a single step towards you and this seemed to be enough for the two- Silver and Sebek- to suddenly intercept him with swords drawn, creating an 'X' that blocked the tall Merman from approaching further. It was more than a little surprising to see weapons suddenly drawn, but maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised. Lilia did say he came over to guard you again and even brought the others for the same purpose.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt them, I just want a little feel on if Shrimpy is as soft as they look!"

"Floyd, that's enough. She was polite enough to allow me to invite you and Azul over and she is quite the rare specimen, you can't threaten her so casually and expect those guarding her to not be upset."

"I didn't threaten, I just said I wanted a big ol' squeeze."

"Same difference where you are concerned."

"Eh, you're so boring sometimes, Jade. Anyway, what is Shrimpy making over there? Smells good~!"

You were stunned at the almost aggressive behavior from Floyd given how calm and level headed Jade had been thus far. Maybe it was just a quirk of Floyd's to be a little more hands on than others. It honestly made you glad to know your self-appointed guards took their task seriously as they still refused to let the large Merman near you. Speaking of your guards, Floyd didn't seem put off by their aggression in the slightest and almost seemed amused by them as if it were all one big game.

Tension was thick in the air as the almost aloof Floyd smiled at you, watching you grab several bowls and begin ladling out ten total servings. You were not really all that surprised when there was still more soup to go even after you filled enough bowls for yourself and the ever increasing number of guests.

Maybe you were right to make so much after all. Hopefully your surprise guests had all shown-

"Why is the door locked? Hey, Human, I smell food in there! I already ate all the Dandelions from this morning! Can I have some of whatever you're making? Please? I'm starving out here."

Peaking through the windows to the kitchen was a familiar grizzled muzzle of the Gnoll you had met that morning. Ruggie was staring with those unsettling bright blue eyes and you were unsure if you wanted to laugh or scream. You scolded yourself in the back of your mind, remembering that animals would often return to places if they were given food prior and no doubt the Hyena man sought to do the same.

"Should I let him in, (Y/n)?"

Lilia asked, eyeing the lock on the door as Ruggie began to loudly whine and cackle for attention. You just sighed and nodded, knowing the Hyena wasn't going to leave now that he knew there was food ready and waiting just inside.

"May as well."

The Gnoll was quick to enter once the door opened and he happily grabbed one of the ten bowls, immediately scarfing down the soup without even glancing at the now large group of men standing in your kitchen. You didn't bother offering a spoon to Ruggie as it was clear he didn't need or want one. Despite the odd group that had gathered under your roof- technically it was the school's roof, but now wasn't the time for semantics- they all seemed keen to dig in when you passed out the bowls.

Getting yourself a bowl- seeing as Ruggie had taken one of the ten- you were able to finally take in the meal of your labors. It wasn't half bad and those button mushrooms added just the right earthy flavor that really brought the soup together. All of your visitors clearly liked the soup as well and Grim was the first to ask for seconds.

"Miss (Y/n)! This is a fantastic meal! I don't think I've had such flavors in anything I've eaten before! I would only think a meal from my liege could possibly taste better!"

"Sebek," the white haired one interrupted the shouting one, "you don't need to yell at her."

"I'm talking at an adequate volume, Silver. You dare say this meal isn't divine?"

"That's not what I said at all."

Lilia giggled as the two odd characters argued, hopping off the counter to serve himself another helping of the plentiful soup. Despite the absolute lack of respect for your personal space they all seemed to share, you couldn't help but smile as well. The many men you had met were odd and so unique in many ways but none of them actually seemed all that bad once they relaxed and got talking.

Maybe these monsters weren't as monstrous as you thought when you first met them. Hopefully their worries of poachers would just prove to be worries, but you knew you weren't truly safe yet and anyone could be a threat if they genuinely wanted to be. You just hoped there wasn't another shoe waiting to drop on your peaceful evening.

~•§•~

"Trey?"

"Yes, Riddle?"

"Invite (Y/n) to tomorrow's Unbirthday party. It has become rather clear to me that no one can look after her the way the Queen demands, so I will step up and take on that task."

"Riddle..."

"She will be safe with me, I will do whatever it takes to ensure it."

[slvt4felix]

I Could Never Hate You (Part |||)

Pairing -> ninthmember!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~2,700 words Includes -> Reader has anxiety, fluff, and maybe some angst due to the beef with Hyunjin Summary -> You prepare for the day trying not to let your nerves for the concert later take over. This should be easy with Minho by your side but the grudge is still being held strong between you and Hyunjin. They say time heals, but can time heal this? Author's note -> Hi everyone! Welcome to part three of this little mini series. I didn't expect for this to be even more than one part but now I'm thinking it's gonna be around 4 or 5 parts to completely finish it off. I was gonna try and make this the final part but I realized writing short chapters feels much less overwhelming to me so I decided to break it down a little bit. I hope you like it! Let me know your thoughts in the comments <3

♡ Masterlist // Previous // Next ♡

"You have got to be joking right now..." you mutter to yourself as you frantically look around the bathroom. You had completely forgot to bring clothes to get dressed in after you showered. Hyunjin left a while ago and after a few laughs with your new love, you had decided to actually get ready for the day, realizing you can't spend the whole morning alone with Minho, no matter how much you want to. There's too many things to do today.

So, you had left Minho to go take a shower without too much thought. Well obviously not much thought considering you forgot your clothes. You could easily slip your pajamas back on and go get your clothes, but they were dirty and you were clean. You hate having to wear dirty clothes after a morning shower. It was supposed to be the start to a fresh day. With a concert later tonight, you are already anxious enough as it is. The shower did help a little, but this situation, although a bit silly, is souring your mood a bit. On days like these, you just want everything to go right, so it can get frustrating when little things happen. You take a deep breath, not wanting to let your thoughts go any further.

'Hyunjin would understand' you think, saddened by the events of last night. Normally, he would be the first one you would go to when you got nervous

You sigh, annoyed with your thoughts, and grab the wrinkled sweatpants and t-shirt. It'll have to do. You guys just started dating the day before, you don't wanna scare the poor man away by immediately walking out nearly naked with just a towel to cover.

Just as you're about to slip the shirt back on, your nose wrinkled in disgust, you notice a piece of black cloth resting on the counter next to the sink. Your mood instantly shifts as an idea pops into your head.

You swiftly grab it from the sink, unfolding it so that it is no longer inside out, and just like you thought a familiar design appears on the front. It's one of Minho's favorite shirts. He must of left in here last night when he changed into his pajamas. You smile, admiring the stupid drawings on the front. They are just so fitting to Minho.

Without a second thought, you slip the shirt on, getting a whiff of Minho's cologne as it passes over your face. Looking in the mirror, you notice that it covers just enough to not be too scandalous, especially with your underwear on. Minho wasn't too much bigger than you, but the couple inch height difference and his wider frame made for the perfectly oversized shirt.

It was the perfect solution; you got to wear Minho's shirt, you didn't have to walk out in a towel, and you didn't have to put all your clothes back on from last night. And hopefully, Minho's reaction will be an added bonus.

You open the door and venture out into the room, immediately seeing Minho. He's now fully dressed since he took a shower the night before when you were busy having an argument. He's on his phone patiently waiting for you while sitting in the chair Hyunjin had vacated just about an hour earlier.

He looks up upon hearing the bathroom door open, and you make eye contact. As he does so, his soft brown hair falls in front of his eyes. He uses a hand to brush it away, lightly threading through his hair. You see his eyes widen a bit at your choice of outfit and you send him a shy smile back before walking softly over to your suitcase. You bend over, making sure everything is still covered, and grab the casual clothes you had planned for today. You always dressed as comfy as possible before you had to get into the extravagant outfits the stylists prepared for the concerts. They weren't too bothersome, but sometimes the tight clothes weren't your preferred choice for all the dancing that comes with going on stage. But hey, at least you looked hot.

You stand back up after gathering the soft cotton into your hands. You're a little surprised upon feeling arms wrap around your waist. You smile as the scent of Minho's cologne yet again fills your senses; It's one of the many things you love about him.

He pulls you closer so you’re pushed against his front, his head resting on your shoulder. Your heart starts to best faster and you realize just how comforting his hugs are. You could really get addicted to this fast.

"You look so beautiful," he says softly. His breath hits your neck, sending goosebumps down the rest of your body. He doesn't say anything, but you know he had to have noticed. You're glad he doesn't make a remark, but you know just how caring and observant Minho can be. You can't help but think he's already stored that bit of information away for another time.

"My hair's wet, and I'm not even dressed yet," you say with a giggle.

"I know, I just can't believe I missed out on this for so long," he says as his grip around you tightens slightly. You can practically feel him start to recall memories from the past few years, of the way he used to treat you. It's a wonder how this is the same man who was ignoring you just days ago. But you wouldn't trade it for the world, you would stay in his arms forever if you could. He's the same Minho you used to know all those years ago, before all the insecurities got between you two.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door pulling the two of you out of your daydream.

"God, why can't they just leave us alone," he says, rolling his eyes. You just laugh at the remark, aware of just how much Minho really loves those guys. Sure, they can be annoying sometimes, but you grow to love it.

He brings his head off of your shoulder, pecking your cheek as he moves away. Heat floods your face, despite already having a more intimate kiss with Minho the night before. Your confident that no matter how long your relationship manages to last, his affect will never wear off. Minho is just the type of person you can't help but be in love with.

He shuffles away from you and you move to go back into the bathroom, excited to finally finish getting ready for the day. Minho opens the door, not thoroughly thinking through his actions, eager to get the conversation with whoever knocked over with.

You freeze in your spot halfway to the bathroom when you hear the hotel door open. You look up, seeing Chan on the other side just as you had expected. You're not too uncomfortable since practically all the boys have seen you in this state of dress before. After years of being in the same group, it's difficult not to walk in on each other. You don't mind too much anyway.

However, this may be one of the instances where a quick glance may be your downfall. Minho's shirt and no pants may be a bit too much for Chan to not question anything. Chan can be very scary when it comes to stuff that could affect the group as a whole, and a relationship could definitely do just that. Let's just say confessing to Chan was not one of your goals for the day.

"Hey Minho, we're having breakfast downstairs before we head out for the concert venue. So once you guys are ready just meet us down there," he tells your boyfriend. You can see a small smirk form on his lips as he says the last sentence. You know he's probably thinking about the plan the boys had formed last night to make you and Minho stay in the same room. If Chan was in on it, then everyone was in on it.

While waiting for Minho's response, Chan raises his head to see around him. You assume he's looking for you to ensure the other man will actually pass the news on. The two of you make eye contact, and it's unsurprising as you watch his eyes widen upon taking in your outfit. Your blush deepens, instantly ducking away into the bathroom, not wanting to be under his scrutiny any longer.

You finish getting ready, trying to block out the conversation from right outside the door. You honestly don't even want to know what Chan said after that whole fiasco.

When you go back into the main room, Chan is gone thankfully. He must of still had a few more of the boys to wake up.

Minho and you make your way downstairs to get breakfast together with the guys before it's time to head out for the busy day. Typically, hotel food isn't all that exciting for you. You much prefer to stop at a cafe or some other restaurant on the way, but today, waffles in the middle of a hotel lobby don't sound half bad.

On the way, you walk side by side, your heart skipping a beat whenever Minho looks your way. You glance down as he subtly touches his pinky to yours. You haven't had many relationships before, falling victim to the lack of romance related to the industry you’re in, so you can't help but wish to have the typical teenage romance you hear about in movies. You've dreamed of it for years and the fact that it's finally happening makes excitement bloom in your chest.

Minho takes the hint, clasping your hand in his, sending a smile your way. Emotion floods your body, making you feel as if you could take on the whole world with just his hand in yours.

When the two of you enter into the breakfast area, you subconsciously drop his hand, suddenly aware of how many people are around, fans and members alike. Felix looks up, noticing your presence and waves you over. There's two seats available, one at the end of the table next to Jeongin and the other next to Felix, which also happens to be directly across from Hyunjin, who all of a sudden looks a little too interested in his food.

Without a second thought you go to take a seat next to Jeongin, but Minho beats you to it. He flops down in the seat smiling cheekily.

'Asshole' you think, falling back into the habit of calling Minho names. He may not hate you anymore, but that doesn't diminish his love for annoying the absolute shit out of you. However, instead of making you roll your eyes in annoyance, it makes your hands twitch by your side, nerves flooding your body head to toe. You know it was his plan, but it really is not helpful at all right now.

Felix smiles up at you, yet if you take all the tension into account it could arguably be a grimace. He pulls the chair out, and you take a seat; your back is a little too straight and fingers are still picking at your cuticles. You don’t want to raise any questions, but sometimes you really can’t help your nervous habits.

There had been plenty of chatter when walking up to the table but it had stopped suddenly upon Felix waving you over. It hasn’t resumed since, and the looks your members are giving each other are not subtle in the slightest. It’s obvious they know something.

Just like you had thought, word must have gotten around fast. It’s just a question of who spilled the beans and what it is they all think they know. Is it about the fight with Hyunjin? The fact that you and Minho had slept in the same bed? Or perhaps it was because you were seen wearing his shirt this morning?

But who knows? Before you even have time to fully ponder the questions or for anyone to break the uncomfortable silence, there’s a loud noise gathering everyone’s attention.

Hyunjin had sent one final look of panic to Felix before abruptly pushing his chair back and storming out. Everyone looked up in shock and suddenly it’s very clear that they were not aware of the fight. How are you gonna be able to explain this one? You don't even understand what happened. I mean sure, Hyunjin and you had fought and you didn't make up yet so it was uncomfortable, but you don't know why he would feel the need to make a scene like that. You guys had interacted just fine this morning. Maybe he was just uncomfortable with the idea of having to pretend everything was fine. You aren't exactly hiding the fact that you aren't happy with him right now. Due to basically being two peas in a pod, Hyunjin can usually read you like a book.

You glance over at Felix in hopes that he knows what that was all about. It's not much help when all he sends back is a shrug and an apologetic smile.

Unsurprisingly, there were few words spoken after this; the majority of the silence only being filled with concerned looks.

So breakfast was a bit awkward to say the least...

Unfortunately, that is extremely worrisome considering the schedule for the rest of the day. You guys don't have time for awkwardness and unsettled fights. Yet, you also don't have time to resolve anything. A never ending cycle of tension, how exciting. It's one of the not so fun parts of being an idol; the fakeness of everything. You just have to hope your groups acting is going to be on point enough today to not draw any attention. Fans were nitpicky and it was always best to avoid as many rumors as possible. With how close you and Hyunjin are, there's bound to be questions if you don't act all buddy buddy like you usually do.

The group takes two separate cars to the venue, and you can't help but notice the members are a little different than normal. More specifically, Minho has taken the seat next to you which is typically occupied by Hyunjin. In fact, Hyunjin isn't even in the car anymore.

This isn't the first time the cars were specifically divided out. Years ago, they had to switch which car Minho was in to keep the chaos under control. Previously, Minho had been in the same car as you, but once tensions started running high between the two of you, he had immediately been switched in hopes to keep the peace. It seems that was exactly the goal of today. God, you need to stop making so many issues within the group.

It seems that as the day progresses things are just getting more stressful. Hyunjin is avoiding you, and you can't help but feel as if you're messing up the group's dynamics. Suddenly, you're reminded of the awkward encounter with Chan this morning. If he figures out everything that has happened, is he going to be frustrated with you? Maybe you just never really fit in the group to begin with.

With every mile closer to the venue, you feel like you're approaching your doom. This is not the right mental state to go on stage, but that wasn't exactly an option, now was it?

So for now, you simply grip Minho's hand tighter, hoping to quell the growing anxiety inside you. You just have to make it through the concert and then you can resolve all the issues happening.

But it's never that easy is it?

Taglist: @armystay89 @thisisnotjacinta @silentreadersthings @seungminsapuppy @linos-kitten @hafrenstay @redstayrosie

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 10

First and foremost, we've gotten quite a few pieces of fanart from @your-local-furby and @antartzz in the last little bit! We've got a smooch scene as well as a drawing and comic of MC with antartzz's oc Freida. I always get all mushy and/or feral when I get art so I really do appreciate it!

On a more serious note;

Content warnings: homophobia, as well as "queer" being used as a slur, verbal abuse/altercations, and attempted physical assault. (MC and his father get into a really bad argument while shopping.) There is also a bit of ableism but it's no more extreme than in previous chapters, and the homophobia is a much bigger thing in this chapter.

Please be cautious if that is a particularly triggering.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

“Could you hurry it up already?” you hear your father ask, holding a package under his arm.

You look around the store shelves, eyes scanning over different brands of typewriter ribbons. Your fingers ache from carrying the basket of items, so you carefully swap hands. “I’d probably finish up faster if you actually helped me find the brand I need.”

Your father scoffs. “There can’t be that much of a difference between all the other brands here. I’m sure you can find… whatever it is you’re picky about from a different brand.”

“The ribbon I’m looking for is from the same company that made my typewriter,” you explain for what feels like the hundredth time, but is probably only the seventh or eighth time, “it’s specifically made for that particular brand, and since mine is an older model, it’s difficult finding adequate substitutes.”

“Have you ever considered getting a new typewriter? Something newer and more universal?”

“Why would I when the typewriter I have right now works fine?”

“Because your typewriter is older than you are,” your father states, “and I’ll give you credit, you take good care of it, but if something breaks, it’s going to be expensive and difficult to repair, and that’s if they’re even making parts for it anymore.”

“I will worry about that when it happens,” you reply, “but for now, I need ribbons, and I’m struggling to find them.”

Your father sighs. “What’s the brand again?”

“Fuscienne ruban d’encre.”

“What?”

“It’s a box with Fontainian on it,” you answer. “This store is the only place in town that sells it, and unless they’ve partnered with other suppliers in Fontaine, it should be the only one.”

Your father is quiet for a few moments, allowing you to go back to searching for your ink ribbons. The silence is nice, and it’s short lived when you hear the man sigh again. “... Is this what you wanted for a career?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Writing those… girly books.”

You give your father a look. “... Really?”

“What? That’s what they are.”

“They’re romance books. It won’t kill you to say the word romance.”

“And who reads them?”

“People who like romance.”

“Don’t play this game with me.”

“Just get to the point already.”

“I’m just saying writing isn’t the only career you could have chosen,” your father explains, “you had options when you were younger, and you still have options today. You talk about how you can only do certain things on account of your vision, but you act like they’re the only options you have.”

Your father’s words catch you off guard, and you are quiet for a moment as you mull them over. They’re… almost inspiring out of context, but in that condescending hand holding way. You can hear someone else who means well but doesn’t understand saying some of those words to you with a smile that’s too big, too bright, too rehearsed. Something that would have sufficed as motivational when you were little, but just leaves a bad taste in your mouth as an adult.

That said, this is your father, so it immediately raises a red flag. It’s one thing for him to make a backhanded comment, it’s another for him to say something that could be misconstrued into something well meaning when stripped of the full context. You know this, and you know it can only mean one thing.

Your eyes land on a small box, and you pick it up. You then sigh, realizing this isn’t your brand, the design just looks similar. You’re still looking at the shelf when you speak up. “So, why are you in the doghouse this time?”

“Excuse me?”

Your eyes finally spot the word Fuscienne. You momentarily forget the conversation and grin at the last box on the shelf. You snatch it and drop it into the basket.

Your father places a firm hand on your shoulder. “What did you mean by that?”

Right. You turn to face him. “Mom’s mad at you about a comment you made and is making you babysit me,” you reply, “I don’t care what it was you said, but I’m assuming she’ll forgive you if I said you did a good job helping me.”

(Which he really didn’t, because you are a grown man who has been to this store on his own many times before, and your father helping you navigate the store would make your outing even longer.)

Your father averts his eyes, and under his irritation, you see embarrassment shine through the cracks in his mask. He crosses his arms, and on a smaller figure, it would look like such a petulant gesture. It just looks pathetic for someone his age. “The faster we get this over with, the sooner we go home and you go back to your books.”

You answer by walking to the front of the store. The old man behind the counter grins when he sees you. “Find everything you were looking for?”

You nod, placing the basket on the counter. “Grabbed the last box of the Fuscienne ink ribbons. Lucky me.”

“You know, son,” the old man says, “I like to keep at least one pack of the Fuscienne in the back, just for you.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes! You’re one of my regulars, and I know you like that one, so I always make sure I have extra for you in case it sells out before our next order.”

You find yourself smiling. “That’s really kind of you.”

“It’s no problem.” He starts pulling items out of your bag, ringing them up before handing them to his son, who then begins to bag the items. “How is your book?”

His son gives him a quick look. “Father, remember?”

The man behind the counter goes pale. “O-Oh, right, I forgot about the, erm…”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure the man, “progress is good! Very good. I actually got a deal with the Yae Publishing House shortly after my old publisher dropped me. I’m actually waiting for them to get back to me with their final thoughts before I officially start my final draft.”

The man grins. “Oho! That’s delightful! How long do you think it will take before you get it published?”

“I should be hearing back within the week,” you answer, “and after that… a month maybe, and I’m still deciding between cover designs, and I’m not sure what their exact manufacturing and publishing process is, so… I’m not a hundred percent sure when I’ll finally have it out, haha.”

“So I take it you haven’t heard about your old publisher?” the son pipes up.

“What?”

“You don’t know? He’s gone bankrupt.”

Your eyes go wide. “What?! What do you mean?”

“Mountains of debt, from what some of the other writers and editors have said,” the son explains. “Rumour has it the reason he started terminating contracts and laying off editors was so the money would go to paying it all off while still getting a cut of the profits from the books they had published through him.”

“Son of a bitch,” you mutter, before you feel yourself go pale. “Wait, wait, when did this happen?”

“Just a couple days ago,” the son says, “I’m surprised your girlfriend didn’t tell you. She still works there, right?”

“My girlfr… Alik? No, they’ve been out of town visiting family. Archons, the shitshow they’re going to be coming home to…”

“Wait, she– they’re not your–”

“No, no, I’m… I’m not interested in them like that.”

The son stares at you, and you see the little twitch of his lips. “You know what? That makes sense.”

“The hell are you implying?”

Your father’s voice making his presence beyond your central vision known scares you. You turn and see him glaring at the young man. 

The old man speaks up. “S-Sir, my apologies, my son didn’t mean any–”

“Are you insinuating something about my son, boy?”

You turn and see the son’s horrified expression. “I-It was just a joke, some banter between friends! R-Right?” he asks, looking to you for help.

“Father, calm down,” you tell him, “it’s not a big deal.”

He glares harder at the young man. “You’d like it if you thought my son wasn’t interested in that girl ‘like that,’ wouldn’t you?”

By the Tsaritsa this cannot be happening.

“I swear to you sir, it was a bad joke, I promise you, i-it sounded funnier in my head and–”

“I think it’s best we start going to another business,” your father hisses, “I don’t need you leering at my son.”

Horror floods your system, eyes widening and mouth agape. You feel your father staring holes into you expectantly, waiting for you to announce your disgust and disdain at such implications and storm out. Stuck in place, you see the old man’s face first, and he’s in a state of shock, too caught off by the situation to get angry. Then your eyes land on the young man. You can see he’s also shocked, but more than anything he looks humiliated, scared even. He looks like he’s about to start crying, and the sight switches your absolute horror to absolute rage.

You whip around, teeth bared in anger. “What the fuck is your problem?!”

“What’s my problem?! Ask him!”

You push your father’s chest and he staggers back. You point at the front door. “You already bought your shit so why are you even still in here? Just leave already!”

“And leave you alone with this–”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GO.”

The shop goes deathly quiet. Your father’s eyes widen, absolutely shocked by your vulgarity, before his eyes narrow again. His jaw clenches, and in the quiet, you can almost hear the creaking of his clenched teeth. He gives one more dirty look to the young man before he stomps off. He makes sure to slam the door on the way out.

Your mother says he’s a good man, there are still just some traditional things he prefers. He’s very supportive of your sisters’ career or schooling choices, and is endlessly proud of his son for meeting a hard working and loving woman. It’s a side of him that doesn’t always come up, but it rears its ugly head when it comes to you, with your love of literature and romance. You’ve never been sure if it’s because your specific career isn’t the most manly of jobs, or if it’s because writing isn’t as impressive to him as becoming a surgeon or a lawyer or taking over the family business. Regardless, you’ve seen and heard some rather ignorant opinions from him. Your mother doesn’t approve of it, but her attempts at discouraging it are little more than a look, or a hand placed gently on the shoulder and a harshly whispered “honey” or “Mikhaïl.” 

Still, what the fuck was that?

You’ve by now memorized how much your purchases will cost. Fuscienne ink ribbons, stack of paper, and some envelopes. You know roughly how much the amount would weigh in your hand, so when you reach into your pouch and pull out a rather hefty handful of golden coins, it’s purposeful.

You pour the mora into the old man’s hand. “T-Take this, I am so, so sorry, I’ve never… I’ve never seen him react like that to anything.”

The old man looks at the mora in his hand. “This… This is too much, I can’t–”

“I don’t care, please take it as an apology on my behalf,” you insist. You step back and meet his son’s eyes. You place your hand on your chest, your face burning with embarrassment. “I-I can’t tell you how fucking horrified I am, and I am so sorry this happened. He’s said stupid shit before but this is new, I-I don’t know what happened but that is not okay.”

The man sniffles. “N-No, I made the joke, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” you tell him, “and, um, if I’m honest, y-your joke wasn’t off the mark, but I…” You shake your head. “You two will always be my go to shop whenever I need supplies, so I truly cannot tell you how awful I feel about this, I’m really sorry.”

The young man forces a smile, and nods, still distressed. His father pats him on the shoulder and gestures to a door behind them. You watch him step away from your things and head through the door, and you can hear the shaky breath he lets out through the closed door.

The man takes over bagging your items, which isn’t much considering you only bought a couple things, but he’s deliberately slow in the process. You wonder why, until he speaks in a soft tone. “So… you’re like my son.”

Picking up on the meaning behind his words, you immediately feel even worse about what just happened, feeling physically nauseous. “I am, if you’re talking about… not having girlfriends.”

He nods. “Not many people know, and not many bring it up,” he says, “this is the first time something like this has happened to him in the store. I… I think he’ll appreciate what you’ve done today when he’s not so shaken up. I know I do.”

You find yourself smiling, but not out of joy. “It’s nothing, really. People are fools, and my father is a court jester. It’s honestly the least I could have done, I feel.”

“Either way, I appreciate it,” he says, and then he hands you your things. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I will be,” you say, “I’m just about sick of his shit anyways, if you’ll pardon my vulgarity, and if I don’t rip into him then my mother will. Again, I am so sorry.”

“You take care now, son.”

You smile and nod, your chest tight with worry and face burning with embarrassment. Not much else is said, but there’s not really a whole lot else to say. You take a deep breath, brace yourself, and step outside.

Your father stops his pacing and immediately goes off when you step outside. “Where the hell do you get off embarrassing me like that?!”

Having lost all patience with him today, you immediately match his tone and energy and yell back. “Oh don’t give me all the credit, you did a fine enough job of that yourself!”

“That boy was out of line!”

“So you started berating him in front of his father? You started insulting him?”

“Do you not understand how inappropriate that joke was?”

“No, enlighten me.”

“He was implying you’re a queer! A queer! Why aren’t you upset about that?!”

There it is again.

You press on. “Why should I be?”

“You know why!”

“What the hell is your problem? Why are you so mad about that?”

“What are people going to say if they think I raised a queer?”

“It can’t be anything worse than what they’re going to say about you going off on an old man and his son for stupid reasons!” You grin angrily at him. “Front page, ‘owner of Kuznetsov Shipping Company verbally abuses shopkeeper's son.’ Like you need the bad press when you’re starting to get your shit back together. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you today?”

“What’s wrong with me? I could ask the same thing to you!” your father spits. “You’re going to defend some… some…!”

“Let’s not say anything too deplorable now,” you tell him, like a parent talking to a fussy toddler, “you might want to save that for when we get home.”

“This is your fault,” your father growls.

“How is this my fault?”

“Those prissy little fairytales you keep writing,” he answers, “they think you’re a queer.”

“And what… what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with– son, are you gay?”

“What? No! Besides, I don’t have to be gay to think you’re being an ass, I can still see you, and they can probably hear you spouting hate from the palace.”

“You don’t have a wife, or a girlfriend, you don’t try to find one, and you spend all day reading girly books!”

“Like you’re any better,” you snap, and then immediately regret.

“What was that?”

Fuck. Well, you’re already in it now.

“You are obsessed with Pantalone,” you tell your father, “obsessed with getting on his good side, obsessed with making sure he likes you, your practices, that we don’t embarrass you in front of him, you even hijacked the afternoon tea he invited me and only me to! You want to point fingers and call me gay because I write romance? At least all my books are about men and women! You literally spend every day thinking about how to impress another man.”

You watch your father wind his arm back, but he’s stopped and seized by gloved hands. You step back in surprise, and when he’s pulled back, you can see he’s been grabbed by two guards. It brings you back to the present moment, and reminds you that you aren’t one of two people in the whole world. You look around the snowy street and see people, couples and families and a couple tourists, frozen in their spots on the street just staring at the spectacle. You look up at the shop and see the old man watching you, concerned.

“Unhand me!” your father yells.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to calm down before you do anything stupid,” replies the guard.

A third guard steps out from behind the first tow and approaches you. “What is the meaning of all this yelling?”

“A-Ah…” You look over and spot your dad, no longer resisting, glaring daggers at you. “It’s… a family dispute.” 

“A family dispute?”

“Look, I’m sorry about causing a scene,” you answer, “my father and I had a disagreement, no one got hurt–”

“Because we stopped him from hitting you.”

“I know, I know, just…” You sigh. “I don’t want to press any charges, if there’s a fine for disturbing the peace, we’ll pay it.”

The guard looks to the other two, then to your father. He sighs, then turns back to you. “... Fine. We’re letting you off with a warning.” He looks over at your father and points at you as he addresses him. “You’re only off the hook because of him,” he says, then turns to you, “and you’re still on your feet because we stepped in. Remember this next time you let a family dispute get heated.”

“O-Of course, sir,” you reply.

The guards let your father go, and he gives them a dirty look while he straightens his coat back out. You don’t bother with sticking around, electing to instead turn around and walk down the street of murmuring people. Your father doesn’t bother calling out for you to follow him home, heading in the opposite direction instead.

You keep your gaze forward as you head to a currently unknown destination, just wanting to be anywhere else. Maybe the bakery down the road, something sweet would do a good job washing the bitter taste out of your mouth. 

The Pantalone comment was stupid, you think as you happen to pass the man himself, though your humiliation and wish to not be seen makes you figuratively blind to that fact (as well as literally). He stops when he recognizes who just passed him, half tempted to call out and ask how you’re doing, but refrains. Your body language is obvious and painfully honest, almost to a fault, and he can see you want to vacate the area as soon as possible. When he happens to look the other way, recognizing the silhouette of your father angrily storming in the opposite direction, he sighs.

“So that’s what all that racket was…”

[prophecyofwinter]

Across the Sea and to the East

Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: Under your uncle’s usurpation of your brother you have been sent away to hide in Lys under House Rogare. You’ve found new purpose with the Lord of Light but you will be called home soon.

Tags: slight slow burn, actual burning, violence, smut, angst, tags will be added as we go.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Prologue

Chapter 3: Lemon Scented Letters

“You know it is not good luck for one to fall asleep after morning prayer.”

You groan as thin curtains were forced apart allowing the full force of the sun to shine through. You roll over to cover your face, maybe if you hid away she’d let you sleep. The pups at the foot of your bed stretched and jumped off to go seek out the cooks for some type of meat scraps.

They get bigger and bigger every day, it’s been almost a month since you’ve received them and they have grown quickly.

“Did you know it is bad luck to wake the Lady of Light at any point?”

“I will take my chances Y/N. It’s almost midday!”

You sigh in defeat and roll over to your back, letting out a big puff of air blowing your hair out of your face. Thankfully you don’t have anything to do for the rest of the day, just you, Tyanna, and a bunch of cute little sandwiches.

“Tyanna, the cooks are serving those finger sandwiches for Luncheon aren’t they? Cucumbers are in season aren’t they?”

Suddenly you hear stomping leading up to your room and the abrupt sounds of your guards berating the individuals at the doorstep of your personal chambers. You recognize the voice instantly… fuck.

“Let Priest Titus in!”

Red Priest Titus, he’s one of the oldest in the temple and came over on a pilgrimage to bear witness to you. He’s one of the few who believes in you but still gives you a hard time with your choices.

“When were you going to tell me?!”

He could be talking about any number of things, for an old wise man he fumes up far too easily. Reminds you why he doesn’t deal with the politics of the temple.

“If you wanted to join us for luncheon you could’ve just asked.”

“You know very well I am not talking about finger sandwiches!-“

“Well I only want to talk about finger sandwiches so this must wait until after…”

The old man was very clearly fuming, about to bust at the seams of his Red robes. You had no idea what he was talking about but just to see him getting mad makes your day.

“This absolutely cannot wait! When were you going to mention to- to- to anyone that you were going back to Westeros!”

“No one is going back to Westeros! Not soon at least-“

“Then explain this!”

A letter is thrown at you, but it is an open piece of paper so it just flutters to the ground a few feet in front of Titus with a more embarrassed look on his face while you lay slightly amused.

“Well. Now what.”

“Allow me to get that my Lady…”

Tyanna rushes from the other side of the room to grab the piece of parchment off of the floor and handing it over to you and backing away slowly.

You rub your tried eyes and unwrinkle the letter that had been so foolishly tossed to the floor and began to read unamused.

To the Court of the Lady of Light

The Crown of Westeros and House Targaryen humbly requests the beloved presence of the illustrious Lady of Light.

By the turn of the next moon, we wish to be gifted with her graces presence.

We hope to hold a banquet in her honor, as we understand it draws near to the Feast of the First Sun.

We would be honored to host the week of festivities in tandem with the Faith's own Summers Night Feast in Kingslanding.

Alongside her grace and her Courtesans, will be joined by his royal highness King Viserys and Queen Alicent with their children Prince Aegon Targaryen, Princess Helaena Targaryen, and Prince Aemond Targaryen. Other Houses may be in attendance at their own will.

Sincerely, the Crown of Westeros.

Your face softens as you read and a soft lemon scent wafts through your nose, clearly it was soaked into the paper somehow.

He knows… He really knows…

“Aemond…” you whisper delicately while stroking his name written on the paper.

“This is an insult! They dare try to dirty our grand feast with- with- their shit copy!” You can barely hear Titus over the blood in your ears.

“We must go, write them back immediately.”

“Forgive me for saying but have you been inhaling too much Ash my Lady?! You do not know what they have planned!”

You hop up from your bed almost immediately, you felt the need to defend Aemond. No one here knows him, and to assume he would have this sent out to harm you?

“Aemond would not allow!- The Targaryens would not allow such acts on their grounds!”

You feel the room get cold and silent even with the humid summer heat. Your outburst you’ll admit was uncalled for but, if Aemond wants to see you, you shall be seen.

Titus’s face hardens and zones in on you and the letter in your hands and lets out a strained breath admitting his own defeat.

“I see, very well. I am bound to you, I go where you go my Lady.”

“Have a Priest write a letter back confirming our attendance, and Tyanna, gather members for a procession to escort and attend to me during our stay. After luncheon of course.”

Titus’s quick defeat should worry you, clearly the mention of Aemond made him realize something. The relief and serenity of the thought of being back in Westeros, even if not the North. Is too great for you to think about much else.

Oh Aemond…

——————————

“I heard Lys is nice this time of year.”

Alicent feels her body tense up at the mention of the three lettered country, especially when it falls from Aemonds mouth. She takes a long sip of her tea to articulate her thoughts, but the worry eats at her tongue regardless. Even the gardens that surround them help none to ease her stress.

“You have no business in Lys, you’ve never been. Why the interest in Lys?”

Aemond walks closer to the table where his mother sits and pulls out his own chair to take a seat across from his mother. Hands folded neatly, no elbows on the table as his mother taught him so, deep breath in long breath out.

“I read a book in the library, about the Lord of Light and the temple in Lys. A rather new book actually, published in High Valyrian around 2 years ago. It tells about their new Deity, the Lady of Light. Few know her name but they describe her with features from the First Men-“

“Do not torture me any longer, I cannot bear it. Aegon babbled to you, didn't he?”

Aemond sits for an extra moment longer, thinking about where he wanted this to go. What he really wanted to come from this interaction.

Maybe he would make his Mother sit in it a little longer.

“Aegon talks about a lot of things Mother, which do you speak of? I just wanted to tell you of my studies, since we tell each other important information.”

Alicent knows she’s asked for this to some extent. She knew Aegon would tell Aemond but she didn’t think it would happen this soon. She knows Aemond cares about this girl and he wants her to suffer just a little.

“Gods! I’m sorry that I did not tell you but need I remind you how you reacted the last time she was mentioned! I didn’t know where you were, you disappeared for days!”

Aemond says nothing, he sits there and twiddles his thumbs. Maybe he was sitting there to think or maybe to just see if his mother kept going. It was a cloudy day, no burning sun coming down on Aemonds black leather clothes, he could sit here all day if he wanted to. Normally the hot weather makes it too hot for him to think clearly.

“What would you have me do Aemond? Invite her here? So your eyes can meet and embrace each other while crowds clap and cheer, then marry and run away into the sunset?-“

“That’s exactly what we shall do. I read in the same book that they hold the Feast of the First Sun at the same time as the Summers Night Feast.”

Aemond had thought this through delicately it seems… What he asks is a tall order, not realistic in the slightest. However, if Alicent desires to place Aegon on the throne, Aemond having the fancy of a powerful religious leader wouldn’t… not help.

How would she get the faith to approve of such an activity though? To break bread to who they believe are heretics… The North has the Old Gods, the Targaryens have the Valyrian Gods…

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Chapter 16

Not gonna lie. I was hoping they'd eat fishmen this chapter.

I don't know why, but something about those bladefish makes me think there's some elaborate pun that I just don't get. I know their design is based on flying fish but they have blade-sharp edges, but I feel like there's supposed to be something more to it.

The blade is most likely made of keratin and is actually a layer of highly specialized scales.

Where'd the dramatic wind and waves come from? Is that just because of her trying to cast magic?

As this series progresses, Marcille's incantations are less detailed. I can tell some of the characters she's using match some characters in the spell Falin cast in chapter 11, so they use the same school of magic (Makes sense since they attended the same magic academy) but have different specialties.

The reason the runes are simpler is probably because the author decided drawing the intricate rune designs is too much hassle, but I'm going to say Marcille is either getting into the habit of mumbling her spells so nothing notices her casting, or her brain is still a bit scrambled because of the mandrake incident.

Realistic outcome: Causing fish with sharp edges to come falling from the sky can result in people getting cut.

I wonder what that big shadow at the top of the food pyramid is.

Love this little detail. The fishmen don't eat the bladefish's fins. Even if they can safely bite into and eat it, there's probably no meat in the fins.

Another detail I love: The kraken has serrated suction cups like real-world giant squid.

I'm gonna guess that water feels slimy or oily when you're under the effects of waterwalk. Fun fact, we can't actually detect wetness. What we call "wet" is actually a mix of tactile and temperature feedback from our touch receptors that our brain associates with "wetness". It's the reason why reptiles sometimes feel slimy. Their skin just happens to be similar enough in feel and temperature difference to what our brain registers as wet.

Never noticed it before, but the party have to throw off their backpacks when they get in a fight.

Laios said this kraken is several times bigger than normal. They are facing a GIANT giant squid. Is that a mutation or do krakens have no upper limit to how big they can get? I'd imagine if it's the latter, this could be a self-fixing ecosystem problem because the kraken would eventually starve to death because its metabolism would become unsustainable.

Kui definitely did a bunch of research on squids going into this chapter. Look at that jet propulsion form.

Since the kraken is so big, it probably gets pieces of the fishmen it eats stuck in its suction cups all the time. It's like getting something between your teeth.

YES!! This is the kind of stuff I wanted to see them do with Waterwalk.

And this confirms that the spell can raise a sunken object.

And one more amazing detail on the kraken. When it dies, the chromatophores in its body stop working and it loses its color, just like real-life cephalopods.

Laios didn't seem to get grabbed before they killed the kraken so I think he was investigating the tentacles and got stuck.

And after all that, they're not even going to eat any of the kraken. They're going to eat the parasites in it.

This is the biggest tantrum Marcille has made since chapter 1.

But she's still drooling for the food through it all.

Everyone's always been willing to let Laios suffer whenever he gets in trouble by his own actions. Senshi is probably a bit sympathetic, but Marcille and Chilchuck came along to save Falin and have been annoyed since day one that Laios is using the journey and their lack of funds as an excuse to indulge in his monster culinary interest. Granted, compared with that other party, they're only doing so well because they don't have to worry about logistics and supplies as much. But Laios keeps causing trouble because he's willing to engage with some dumb antics.

I love how Marcille can apply magic effects by just hitting people with her staff. I bet it's cathartic at times.

SENSHI FLASH!!

back

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 23/34 - filing cabinet

[Read on AO3]

The water cooler gurgles as he fills a small paper cup and takes a sip. Today had been the day. After weeks of going through personnel files for prospective replacements, they finally met with a few candidates. He meant what he said to Scully; he’s ready to let go of the reins a little. That doesn’t make the actuality of handing over the X-Files any easier.

Force of habit, he thinks, to resist any and all efforts to boot them from the X-Files. He has to keep reminding himself that it was his idea this time, and that they’d still be working on them in a consulting capacity anyway. He isn’t quitting cold turkey. And besides, they’re moving on to bigger and much better things.

Lost in thought, he doesn’t notice at first when a few other guys gather around, each filling their own cups with water.

“So, Garcia,” the first one says, addressing a man Mulder vaguely recalls works in Organized Crime. “I hear the wife’s about to pop. You ready?”

Agent Garcia smiles, nodding his head. “Oh yeah. We’re going out tonight. One last night on the town before the baby gets here, you know?”

“You gotta do it,” another agent says. Agent Mann, or something silly like that, Mulder thinks. “They call it a ‘babymoon,’ you ever heard of that? My wife and I took a trip down to the Isle of Palms for ours before Michael was born. Great beaches. Now we’re lucky if we make it to the coast without one or all of our kids ingesting sand.”

The men share a hearty laugh, and Mulder feels a little out of place.

“Amy would have killed me if I hadn’t taken her out for a nice dinner before our first,” the first agent says. “It was another two years before we were able to go to a nice restaurant alone, so I wouldn’t have blamed her!”

Is this something people do, Mulder wonders? Is Scully expecting it? Maybe he had missed the memo at some point. Is there a soon-to-be-dad handbook somewhere that tells them how to win points with their wives before they become parents? Should he have come up with a plan to do something special for Scully? Their lives are about to irreversibly change, and he hadn’t even considered, really, that very soon, it won’t be just the two of them anymore. There will be a third person, someone entirely dependent on them just to stay alive.

He fills his paper cup again, feeling sweat begin to form under his collar.

Dinner. He can do dinner, that’s a good idea. He should ask her. One last hoorah as the infamous Mulder-Scully duo for old times’ sake. She’d like that.

With a polite nod and a forced smile at his fellow agents around the water cooler, he heads back toward the elevator, and back to the basement.

-.-.-

“Hey, there you are,” Scully says as he shuts the door behind him. She’s elbow deep in one of the filing cabinet drawers, evidently rooting around at the back for a stray piece of paper that has escaped a folder. “Help me figure out which files to make copies of. I know you’re going to want to keep some of them,” she says.

She knows him so well. He’s already started making a mental list of ones he wants to have in his personal collection. The Bellefleur file, for example. And of course, the ones with his name or Scully’s in it, but those are for much less happy, nostalgic reasons.

Slouching his suit coat off his shoulders, he rolls up his sleeves and approaches the drawer, offering his assistance in reaching the wayward scrap of paper. Her little arms are too short, a fact which he intends to tease her about later. His fingers successfully find the edge of the document, and he extracts it with careful precision.

A familiar picture stares back up at him, giving him a hearty chuckle.

“Remember this one?” he asks, turning his sketch of the Jersey Devil back toward her.

She laughs as she takes it from him, inspecting it. “How could I forget?” she says, “I think this image is forever ingrained in my psyche.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of my drawing,” he says. “I want a copy of that file. With my beautiful artwork, please.”

She rolls her eyes, but opens up a folder and slides the paper in its rightful place. He can’t help but notice it was already in the ‘to-be-xeroxed’ pile before he said anything.

The office falls silent as he continues rifling through the cabinets, plucking out a file here and there that he wouldn’t mind keeping. It’s a walk down memory lane, for him. Flukeman, Big Blue, the vampire sheriff in Texas… Who would have thought that seven years later, he’d still have Scully by his side as he prepares to let go of what became his life’s work? Their life’s work. She should have run screaming from here years ago, but she didn’t.

Now look where it’s gotten them.

Glancing up at her from over the top of the overstuffed file drawer and filled with a sudden surge of gratefulness that he doesn’t know what to do with, he blurts, “Let’s go out to dinner tonight.”

She freezes, and he mentally kicks himself for the hasty delivery of his idea. Theoretically, he should have planned a better way to ask her. After a second that feels like an eternity, she turns to him with a skeptical tilt to her brow and a small smile. 

Well, at least he knows he’ll still get to see her make that expression at him even when they’re off the X-Files.

“I mean, we could try that new place in Dupont Circle. The one your mom was telling you about? If you want.”

“What’s the occasion?” she asks, folding her arms expectantly in front of her chest as she leans back in his office chair.

“You know,” he shrugs, “pretty soon it won’t be just us anymore, and I– I like… spending time with you… So I just thought it would be nice to—”

She smiles shyly. “That sounds great, Mulder,” she says, interrupting his fumbling explanation. “Tonight at seven?”

He grins, ducking his head to hide his goofy expression. “Yeah, seven. I’ll make the reservations.”

-.-.-

In hindsight, this is a crazy idea. The restaurant they’re going to is extravagant. Ostentatious. And he knows Scully knows it, too. The margin of error for plausible deniability here is extremely small, and if she doesn’t have some idea of his feelings for her already, he’s going to have a hard time keeping it that way as they sit in a low-lit room munching on those fancy breadsticks and drinking expensive wine.

What had he been thinking? He asked her out without even sparing it a thought, not realizing how it would sound. To be going out on a date with your best friend who is also technically your wife? Langly and Frohike were right. He is an idiot. What is he supposed to do on this ‘date?’ How is he supposed to act? Does she expect anything from him? Is this his last chance to make a move? What does it mean that this is one of the last nights they’ll spend alone together before someone literally hands them a baby and lets them take it home?

The idea of making a move, after all this time spent explicitly trying not to do exactly that, has him in a spiral. He paces around the floor in his bedroom, trying not to think about what dress Scully might be putting on in her room on the other side of the hall or what she might be doing with her hair.

He can’t upset the status quo like this with the baby due any time in the next few weeks, can he? Bad idea. Bad, bad, idea. But at the same time, when else would he get the chance? He’d heard what the other agents had said… it was years in some cases before new parents got the chance to really be alone. What if he had to spend the next several years silently pining for his own wife in the home they share together, watching her be a mother to the baby they adopted? Maybe there’s a reason people don’t get into arrangements like this with their platonic best friend, after all.

How stupid was he to think he could do this without letting his feelings get in the way? Why on earth didn’t he just tell her months ago, before all this started, instead of getting his hopes up?

The answer, of course, is that he wants this. He wants this family more than anything, even if it's never anything more than friendship and cohabitation with Scully. He would have scared her away if he told her the same day she found those adoption brochures on his desk. It would be too much at once. He knows her, she would have been overwhelmed.

But, man… What if?

He checks his reflection in the mirror one more time, smoothing his hair into place. He hopes he didn’t overdo it on the cologne. Should he be wearing a tie? He puts on one that Scully got him several years ago, complete with a tie clip he’d gotten from her mother at Christmas.

He hesitates over the chain he wears under his shirt. What would Scully think if he took it off and wore it on his finger tonight? He finds that he wants to. Just a normal husband and wife grabbing dinner together. Without giving it much thought, he loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his shirt to free the necklace from its usual place. He knows that if he gives it much more consideration, he’ll talk himself out of it, so he pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind and slides the band onto his left ring finger.

There. He’s ready.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door to his room, intent on continuing his pacing in the living room if Scully isn’t ready to go yet.

“I’ll be ready in a minute,” he hears her call from the bathroom as his door creaks open. At a quick glance, he can see the back of an elegant dress he’s never seen before, black with a neckline that swoops down low in the back. She stands at the sink, fastening an earring in place, and it feels like junior prom all over again.

“Oh, I’m in deep trouble,” Mulder mutters to himself, rubbing his hands over his face. Forcing himself to turn away, he walks straight to the kitchen and fills up a glass of water, downing it in record time.

Not five minutes later, he hears her emerge, and he prepares himself for the sight of her.

Sure enough, it knocks the breath out of him, a fact which he makes every attempt to hide. He’s pretty sure she catches it, though, because the corner of her mouth quirks up and her eyes drift to the floor, as if she were somehow self-conscious about her appearance.

Impossible.

He’s suddenly very glad he opted for the tie, if this is what she's wearing to dinner. Although, it’s feeling a little tight, at the moment. 

“You, uh—” he starts, at a loss for words. His mouth is bone dry, despite the water he had just chugged a few minutes ago. “You—”

“Thanks,” she says, mercifully sparing him from further embarrassment. She tucks a gently curled tuft of hair behind her ear, drawing his attention to the careful way she’s arranged it. “I figured this might be my last chance to get properly dressed up for a while, so… It’s been… years, I suppose, since I’ve had the occasion to.”

This just confirms it. He’s been an idiot. Years of missed opportunities, chances he’s wasted. He could have been taking this gorgeous, magnificent woman out to fancy dinners all the time, if he’d just been able to pull himself together and see past the end of his own rather distinguished nose. 

If time travel is ever invented, he’s gonna use it to go back in time and kick his own—

“Mulder?” she says, smiling amusedly at him. He gets the sense that that’s not the first time she’s tried to get his attention, and he feels his cheeks warm. “I said, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he chokes out, finding his voice at last. She reaches down to grab her purse, and he coughs to clear his throat. “Yeah, let’s go.”

She shakes her head at him in mock admonition, but happily accepts his proffered arm as they exit out the front door of the apartment. In the hall, he glances down, taking in the sight of her hands wrapped comfortably around his right bicep.

Her ring. She’s wearing it. He swears his heart might leap out of his chest at the thought. This might just be the thing that does him in. Put it on his death certificate. ‘Cause of death: the woman he loves is wearing his ring.’ What a way to go.

He doesn’t say anything—couldn’t, even if he wanted to—but he can tell that she saw him take notice. How could he not, with the way it sparkles on her finger, like it belongs there? He feels her hold loosen, and it stirs up a mild panic in his chest. She shouldn’t be embarrassed. Please, please don’t be embarrassed.

He lifts his hand to stop her from releasing him, running his thumb over the diamond inset on her finger. It’s okay, he’s saying. Look, I’m wearing mine too.

He sees the moment her eyes fix on his ring, as he rests his left hand over hers on his arm. She avoids his eyes, but he can tell she’s moved. She swallows back her emotion, and her hold on him tightens again, which sends a wave of relief through his body. 

“Come on, we’ll be late for our reservation,” he says, his voice low, just for her ears. 

She nods, and lets him lead the way.

-.-.-

His first mistake was thinking that he could get day-of reservations at one of the trendiest places in all of Washington, D.C. His second mistake was not considering that his straightforward request for a table that evening might somehow be misconstrued to mean that evening a year from now. 

It takes all his self restraint not to raise his voice at the host at the host stand, because really, why would he be asking for something like that? He’d like to give them a little lesson on the use of the English language, but he won’t, only because Scully is there and he doesn’t want to completely ruin the evening.

She’s there watching him as all this takes place, undoubtedly amused as he fights back frustration. After a moment, her hand lands on his arm, her typical method of pulling him back from the brink of a poor decision that she’s perfected over the years, and she shakes her head.

“It’s alright, Mulder,” she says. “We can just go somewhere else.”

Yeah, but where?

“Have a good evening,” the host says dismissively, and his tone is just a little bit too smug for Mulder’s taste. It reminds him of stuffy dinners with his father’s associates or interactions he had with the pompous law students at Oxford. Maybe they don’t want to eat here after all.

Scully feels him tense under her touch, and gently guides him out of the restaurant before he can respond. What would he do without her? He’d probably get beaten up a lot more often, that’s for sure. Or at least kicked out of places, like he would have been tonight.

She leads him outside, and soon enough, they’re standing on the sidewalk by the street, at a loss for what to do next.

“I’m sorry, Scully,” he says, mentally kicking himself for screwing this up so badly. “I just wanted to do something special, and now—”

“Mulder,” she stops him. “Seriously. It’s okay. I’m happy with wherever we decide to go tonight. This is about spending time together, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let's go,” she says, grabbing his hand. “Come on, I have an idea.”

She holds tight to him as she leads them down the sidewalk, passing other couples on the street on this lovely spring evening. He has no idea where she could possibly be taking them, but she’s in a great mood, so he tries not to let the minor setback ruin his night. If she’s happy, then he’s happy.

The sun draws closer to the horizon, casting a golden glow on everything and everyone it touches. It makes her hair shine like fire, and once again he counts his blessings. It feels a little bit like the night of their wedding, and that thought brings a smile to his face.

They walk past several up-scale restaurants, and Scully doesn’t even spare them a glance. Wherever she’s taking them, she must know the way there. After a couple more blocks, she comes to a stop, standing out front of a greasy diner, maybe just a little nicer than the ones they frequent in small-town America. 

“Really?” he asks, looking dubiously up at the neon sign. “You sure you don’t want to go somewhere a little fancier, Scully? You got all dressed up.”

Her answering smile is resplendent in the glowing light.

“I want to eat here, Mulder,” she says, stepping toward the entrance. A bell above the door jingles as she pushes it open. “It seems fitting, doesn’t it?”

It does. A wave of nostalgia hits him like a truck when he realizes why she brought them here. Why a diner, of all places, would be the place she chooses for their ceremonial last meal, just the two of them. He can’t count how many formica tabletops just like this one they’ve shared a meal at, over the years. Hundreds of hamburgers with a side of fries, maybe a milkshake they end up splitting when Scully’s ice water loses its appeal. Ripped vinyl booths that Scully thoroughly wipes down with wet wipes she’d started keeping in her bag for that exact purpose.

“Well, don’t you two look nice?” a waitress in uniform says as she approaches their table. Her hair looks like the 80s have come back with a vengeance, all frizzy and permed, and she chews a wad of bubblegum aggressively, smelling like her last smoke break.

In short, it’s perfect.

“What’ll it be?” she asks.

Mulder orders for the both of them, knowing Scully’s usual order by heart. She smiles the way she always does when he remembers to ask for a lemon for her water, and he makes sure to tell the waitress to bring two straws for the milkshake instead of one.

When he looks across the booth at Scully, again, he imagines a little girl sitting next to her, coloring away on a kids menu with two, cheap, plasticky crayons that break in half if you look at them wrong.

It won’t be long, now. That will be their life. Mulder, party of three. Maybe Scully will start to carry a plastic baggy of the good crayons in her bag, for when they go to places like this. He’s absolutely certain she’ll at least double her use of wet wipes and sanitizer. He’ll become a chicken strip connoisseur, knowing all the best places in the city to get the child-favorite delicacy.

“To us,” Mulder toasts once their drinks arrive, lifting his chocolate milkshake in the air between them. “To… endings and new beginnings.”

“To endings and new beginnings,” Scully repeats, clinking her glass against his.

-.-.-

It’s past dark already, barely a hint of color lingering on the horizon, but that doesn’t stop them from prolonging the evening with a walk to the National Mall. The moon is bright, and the streets are lit up for tourists making the most of the warmer spring weather. It’s a pleasant walk. Scully feels drunk, despite the absence of alcohol with their dinner. She wonders if Mulder feels it too.

He guides her with his hand in its usual place, and she feels what can only be described as complete and utter contentment, as each brush of his fingers propels her gently forward. The street leads them straight to the reflecting pool on the National Mall, a favorite spot of theirs, not that they find the time to visit often enough. They’ve missed the cherry blossom blooms by only a couple weeks, but the sweet smell of them persists, unless it’s just her imagination.

Something about being with Mulder like this dials all her senses up to eleven. She has never experienced life like this before. Are the stars always so bright? Does the cool breeze always feel like silk on her skin?

Maybe it's his cologne that has her feeling tipsy. She selfishly hopes the scent of it will linger on her clothes and in her hair even after this night has come to its end.

The Mall is quiet and mostly empty at this hour. The Washington Monument looms in the distance, lit up brightly and casting its imposing reflection on the still waters of the reflecting pool. A family of ducks disturbs the glassy surface, sending ripples radiating outward as they paddle from one side to the other.

Mulder has this peaceful expression on his face, the corners of his mouth quirked upward ever so slightly. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he had never been here before, taking in all the sights for the first time. He watches the ducks for a moment, expelling a breath of laughter through his nose as a small duckling falls behind, then swims faster to catch up with the rest of the crew.

His hand drops from her back, but before she has a chance to mourn the loss, he entangles his fingers with hers, clasping their hands tightly together. She follows after him in a daze, her lips pulled back in a self-conscious sort of grin. She can’t help it. He makes her feel like a teenager, and… she doesn’t even know what this is, really, but she likes it. 

They circle the reflecting pool for a bit, wandering aimlessly at a lazy pace, reluctant to put an end to their time together. Eventually, they end up sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, the gargantuan statue of the nation’s sixteenth president a silent sentinel behind them.

Scully leans her cheek against Mulder’s bicep. Despite her best efforts to keep them open, her eyes fall shut, her body succumbing to the serenity of their surroundings and the comfort of good company. He offers her his coat, draping it over her shoulders to combat the slight chill. It dwarfs her, the extra fabric at the hem pooling on the ground behind her.

“How about we come here on the weekends?” his voice rumbles, the first words spoken since they left the diner almost half an hour ago.

“Mm?” she hums in question.

He jostles her slightly with his arm, and she forces her eyes open again.

“You know, take the stroller for a spin around the pool,” he says, gesturing ahead of them. “Maybe stop into the Air and Space museum if we feel like it…”

She smiles. She can picture it so easily, the two of them experiencing the wonders of this city through the eyes of their child as she grows. Of course Mulder would want to go to the Air and Space Museum. It’s a wonder he hasn’t dragged her there before.

“Every weekend?” she asks doubtfully, her words slurring slightly.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side as he chuckles.

“No, not every weekend,” he says, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “I’m sure some weekends we’ll want to sleep in. Maybe have a late breakfast and watch movies. I can make pancakes. Chocolate chip.”

“Children need to have healthy breakfasts, Mulder,” she says admonishingly. Something tells her it will be a constant battle to keep Mulder from spoiling their daughter with sugar and empty carbs. But if that’s the worst of their disagreements when it comes to co-parenting, she’ll happily accept the challenge.

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Half blueberry, half chocolate chip,” he concedes. She decides to let it slide for now.

Above them, an airplane soars across the sky, lights blinking rhythmically as it passes overhead.

It’s funny. Before Mulder, she never looked twice at things like that. But now, she finds herself checking a second time, her gaze lingering a little longer, just in case it might be something other than an airplane.

What has this man done to her?

Mulder follows the direction of her stare, his chin tilting upward. Against the backdrop of stars, the perfectly normal, human-built aircraft flies out of sight. The hand on Scully’s shoulder drops to the ground, his palms resting against the stone steps as he reclines back a little.

“Thanks for hanging with me all these years, Scully,” he says softly, his eyes never wavering from the heavens. “I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

Her lips pull back in a smile. “We make a pretty good team, huh?” she says over her shoulder.

His lowers his gaze to meet hers. “I like to think so. You think that will translate to raising a kid?”

She has often wondered that exact thing, but for the life of her now, as she looks into his eyes, she can’t think of even one reason why she questioned it.

She leans back onto his shoulder, her eyes falling shut again.

“Only one way to find out,” she answers sleepily.

He sighs happily. “Any day now.”

-.-.-

What a day. What a night.

Mulder can’t sleep, lying stiffly on his back in bed with his hands clasped on top of his torso. All he can think about is how beautiful she looked in the blinding fluorescent light of the diner, with a bit of ketchup smeared on the corner of her mouth from when she stole one of his fries when she thought he wasn’t looking. How she held his hand, content just to walk in silence beside him in the shadow of some of the nation’s most revered monuments.

What a perfect way to put a cap on their time working on the X-Files together. He couldn’t have planned it better himself (clearly). Who needs expensive wine and stale classical music when you have bottomless milkshakes and a jukebox playing the greatest sock-hop hits of the 1950s?

It wasn’t a real date, he has to remind himself, but it sure was close to one. Usually a first date doesn’t end with both parties going home together, that’s one difference. Or, well, going home to the apartment that they both live in together, he should say. But tonight, as they returned home, they got ready for bed side-by-side at the sink, brushing their teeth and washing their faces, and it felt like they’d been doing this for years. There was no awkwardness there, just a wave of peace and stability he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel in his adult life.

If they ever move somewhere else—somewhere closer to Quantico, maybe—he’ll make sure the bathroom is equipped with a his-and-hers vanity. A sink for each of them, and plenty of counter space for all of Scully’s specialty serums and creams. It’ll be nice, he thinks.

When he finally falls asleep, it’s to visions of wraparound porches and matching rocking chairs, and maybe a nice playset in the backyard with a couple of kids running around. Now that’s a dream worth dreaming of.

-.-.-

This is ridiculous. She should just go back to bed, try one more time to actually fall asleep, get a few hours of rest at least. 

But she can’t sleep. Because Mulder had gone and put it in her head that everything is about to change, and it really could happen at any moment. Somehow, when she’s with him, she forgets every apprehension that plagues her, lured into a sense of security and assurance by some mystical power he possesses. Okay, maybe not a mystical power, but it is frightening how easily she casts aside her doubts when he’s within eyesight.

But then it all comes flooding back the moment she’s left to her own thoughts. It’s infuriating. She thought she was ready for it—for this massive life change—but she’s not. It terrifies her.

What if she can’t do it? What if she misses working in the Hoover building with him too much? What if she and Mulder have a disagreement about something trivial and it pulls them apart? What if he meets a nice woman at Quantico and wants out of this arrangement? What if it’s not enough for them to just be friends and raise this baby together? What if her feelings get the best of her, and she scares him away?

Or perhaps worst of all… What if they don’t get to go home with a baby at the end of all this? What if the mother decides to keep it? What then? Would they even have it in their hearts to try again? To wait a little longer, when there are drawers full of onesies and newborn diapers already in their home?

For weeks, the same nightmare has plagued her. Standing in a hospital hallway, their path blocked by people from the adoption agency telling them to turn around. Go home. You do not get a child.

She wakes feeling emptier than ever, and wishes for the millionth time that things could be easier.

There’s so much to think about, and she can’t take it anymore. She’s scared. And there’s only one person she likes to go to when she’s scared, and he’s sleeping peacefully right behind this door.

She sighs, leaning her head up against the door frame in exhaustion. She’ll just poke her head in for a moment. Remind herself that he’s there, and he’s not going anywhere. She repeats the words he’s said to her over and over in her head like a mantra, ways he’s reassured her in the past that he’s in this for the long-haul. But for some reason, they’re hard to recall in these moments of doubt. Maybe she’d misunderstood him. Maybe she’s remembering it wrong, applying more meaning to his words than he’d intended.

Her stomach tosses and turns uncomfortably with nerves. She’ll never be able to sleep like this.

As quietly as possible, she eases the door open, a sliver of light from the hallway piercing its way into his room. He looks warm and soft, the way his face lays slack against the pillow. He’s made himself at home here. His knick knacks line the shelves, unpacked from their boxes after the move and scattered about. As she steps carefully inside, she spots a photo of them that once sat on a shelf in their office. He must have moved it here recently, part of the slow transfer of their lives out of the basement of the Hoover building. She can’t help but notice that it sits beside him on his nightstand, right next to his glasses and whatever book he’s been reading lately.

She lets out a breath, allowing the comfort he unknowingly offers to dull her senses. Just a minute longer, then she’ll go back to her room and give sleeping another shot.

Or she would have, if he hadn’t started to stir, slowly waking from his peaceful slumber. It’s almost like he’d sensed her there, some kind of psychological link that told him when she was near, and in distress. She quickly turns back to the door, hand on the door handle to open it and make her exit before he truly notices her presence, when she hears her name spoken in a confused whisper.

“Scully?”

Her shoulders slump in defeat, and her hand falls away from the doorknob.

“Sorry,” she says, turning to face him sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He props himself up on an elbow, blearily rubbing sleep from his eyes with a fist.

“You okay?” he asks.

Her mouth drops open to reassure him that, yes, she’s fine, but she takes just a second too long to answer, and she knows he sees right through her. It’s not even worth lying to him.

“Come here,” he says, scooting over to make room on the bed beside him. “We can talk, if you want.”

She really shouldn’t, but his offer is tantalizing. She’s too vulnerable to be in this position, right now. Who knows what will slip from her mouth in her exhausted and overwhelmed state? Her feet carry her toward the bed anyway, and she slides into place under the covers, staring blankly up at the ceiling as he settles on his side facing her on his side of the bed.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks knowingly.

She shakes her head, her hair rustling on the pillow.

“Took me a while to get to sleep too,” he admits. “A lot to think about. A lot, a lot.”

At least she’s not alone in this problem, she guesses. She hates feeling like the insecure one in any situation, and that’s how she’s felt more often than not throughout this process so far.

“What’s keeping you up?” he asks, gently urging her to open up.

She tries to shrug, but she knows she’ll have to come up with an answer sooner or later. There’s no reason to hide this from him. Sometimes, he knows her better than she knows herself, and that can be a blessing and a curse.

“I’m going to miss working with you, Mulder,” she says honestly, her lips sealed tight to fight back the slight tremble in them. She can’t stop hearing her own words spoken by the reflecting pool a few years ago. ‘If I quit now, they win.’

She feels a hand land on her upper arm, stroking it comfortingly. Her eyes flutter shut. She can lie to herself all she wants, but this is why she really came in here. There’s a type of comfort only Mulder has ever been able to bestow, and she needs it now more than ever.

“We’ll still be in the same building,” he says appeasingly. “We can get lunch together every day, talk about our classes, complain about the new recruits.”

It’s silly, but his words do help. She imagines sitting across from him in his own private office—probably decorated a lot like their current office is—and munching on a salad while listening to him complain about an essay one of his students turned in. It sounds pleasant. Easy. Maybe he can come help decorate her office too. She’s gotten used to his clutter. She isn’t sure she’d be able to work in the sparsely furnished office space like she’s naturally inclined to.

“And besides– We’ll still see each other here,” he adds. “Every night. And the weekends.”

The thought sends a thrill through her. Sometimes it still feels like a dream, what they’re doing. Giving up the X-Files… that’s a tangible thing. But the baby? She’s still an abstract idea, despite the fact that physical reminders of their plans are scattered throughout her apartment. The picture he’d painted earlier of a relaxing day at home together feels out of reach—like a nice idea that isn’t really attainable. Is she that traumatized from all the disappointment in her life?

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she asks, her mouth downturned in a frown. “I mean– I know you’ve said before that this is what you want, but I—”

“You’re gonna have to learn to trust me sometime, Scully,” Mulder says, a slight sadness in his voice.

She does. She does trust him—maybe even more than she trusts herself. That’s what the problem is.

“I do,” she says. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just…”

“Freaking out?” he finishes, smiling at her in amusement.

“Just a little,” she says, returning his smile.

He breathes in deeply, his face pensive like it always is when he's mulling over a difficult question.

“I think we’re ready,” he says, projecting confidence into his voice. “I think you’re going to be a rockstar mom, and we’ll wonder why we didn’t do this years ago.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

“But what if—”

He shakes his head, putting a stop to her words immediately. “You gotta stop that, Scully,” he says seriously. “This is going to work out.” His fingers find the dainty necklace she wears, his thumb brushing over the cross. “Have faith,” he implores.

She closes her eyes, letting out a breath, and with it, trying to release some of the fear that keeps her up at night. She wants to do what he asks, to let herself go, but it's not as easy as that. Sometimes she can't help but feel like they're trying to cheat destiny, to force things into going their way when they've been repeatedly told “no” at every turn.

His reassurance does help, though. Wasn't that why she'd come here in the first place? 

Mulder settles back, turning his attention back to the ceiling. 

“What did you think of the new agents?” she asks after a moment, changing the subject. It’s hard to believe that it was just this morning that they’d interviewed a few of them, hoping to find some trustworthy hands to leave their work to.

“Reyes seems sharp,” Mulder says. “I think her background in folklore and ritualistic abuse is a good starting point.”

“Mm,” Scully hums her agreement. “And what about Doggett? Too staunch of a skeptic for you?”

Mulder chuckles. “He comes highly recommended by the higher ups, so I don’t know,” he says. “It’s always good to have a variety of opinions around, though, don’t you think?”

She turns her head to the left, her eyes meeting his in the darkened room, lit only by what little moonlight comes through the blinds. 

“I think… we’ll be okay,” she says then, willing the words to be true as she speaks them. Her assertion brings a smile to his face, and he leans back on the pillow, focusing on the patterns on the ceiling like she had been a moment earlier.

“We will,” he agrees. “For once, I think we’ll be better than okay.”

~~~

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[mysteroads]

Chapter 14: What's in a Name?

Summary: Hawks overhears a conversation and asks a very important question. Later, Shigaraki gets good advice from Kurogiri.

Excerpt:

“What the fuck do you want, Shig?” Dabi snapped the second the door closed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually considering letting the heroes near our kids, are you? Is that what you want to talk about?”

Rather than answering, Shigaraki said, “You need to tell Keigo your name.”

The silence that fell was anything but empty. Even on the roof, Hawks could feel the tension, like watching a storm build on the horizon. This was not where he'd expected this conversation between lover and boss to go. Hawks felt his eavesdropping feather heat up as Dabi’s temperature rose, right before the flame villain snarled, “Go to Hell, Shigaraki! Where the fuck did that come from?”

Shigaraki snorted and there was the creaking of a bed as he sat down. “He won’t understand until he knows. You said he was the one, that you love him, so why haven’t you told him, Dabi?”

“It’s none of your business!”

“Wrong.” There was an icy edge of warning in the word. “I’m your leader and your friend, so it is exactly my business. If you want Keigo to understand you, to take your side, then you have to tell him the truth.”

“That so?” Hawks didn’t know what to do with the emotions in Dabi’s voice.  It was the snarl of a cornered animal, a red rage mixed with bubbles of desperation and spite. “Have you told Eraserhead about Tenko? Do you think he’ll still want to fuck you after he hears how you turned your family to bloody chunks, then murdered your old man? You think he’ll get turned on hearing about how much you enjoyed it? Maybe you should do that before telling me what to do with my own boyfriend.”

Shigaraki inhaled sharply, then let out his breath just as quick and sharp. “Don’t turn this on me, Dabi. It won’t work. If only because Sensei already spoiled that little twist to All Might! Eraserhead probably knows more than me. I only remember bits and pieces; he probably read the fuckin’ police reports. If I tell him, it'll be to fill in what I'm missing.” 

Dabi growled, his clothes rustling as he turned, pacing to the window. There was the crackle of plastic being broken, then the sound of a cigarette being pulled from its pack. 

“Don’t light that shit in here.”

“Try and stop–” A grunt of impact and the sound of a body hitting the wall interrupted his taunt. Another few thuds, and Hawks tensed as he heard Dabi’s smothered sound of pain. 

“You're being an asshole. A bigger asshole than usual, and that’s coming from me,” Shigaraki said coldly. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“You’re going to break my fucking arm!”

“It’s on you to either stop fighting or burn me if you don’t want a broken arm. Now, why haven’t you told him about Toya?”

Toya?

Toya?

Toya.

The sky, already deepening toward twilight, turned black and dripped down into Keigo’s mind. The darkness constricted around him, tunneling his vision and making his lungs burn as he struggled to draw in breath. Why had Shigaraki said that name? What does Dabi know about Toya? What hasn't he told me?!

Desperately, he fumbled, trying to get down to the window. He had to know! Over the sound of his own pounding heart, he heard the other two men still talking.

“You love him. Why haven’t you told him?”

“Because I want him to love me! Not Toya!” 

[ghostly-wisp]

MR. LOVERMAN

CHAPTER 7

navigation | series masterlist | chapter 6 | chapter 8

︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“So, what is the deal?” Sam asks a couple of days after the whole ordeal, gesturing his fork between both you and Pedro – they hadn’t heard a lot about the status of your relationship and assumed that the two of you haven’t updated him on anything, truth is – you just hadn’t talked about it. You tense up because you’re not sure how to answer this sensitive question, but thankfully Pedro does it for you.

“No deal,” he says, closing his salad container. “We’re just testing things out – friends at the moment.” the moment replays in your head a couple of times, you’re not just friends. Sam is satisfied with this answer and leans back in his chair. He grabs the Trumoo milk he got from the cafeteria and places it on the corner of your desk, “I don’t like milk–so you can take it, if you want, Pedro.” This is Sam’s way of offering a friendship coin. Truth is, he loves the Trumoo milk that the cafeteria gives, but this was the only way they could think of as an offering for reconciliation. “I fucking hate milk,” Pedro replies, distastefully.

Later, you’re at his apartment – you're finally able to take in the decorations more intricately than last time you were here – hungover and not quite as close with Pedro as you are now – you can't help but notice just scarce his decorations actually are, though shows you the few decorations he has excitedly – such as a Game of Thrones decorative sword and a couple of Funko pops of Star Wars characters on the bookshelf he has. He has some student art on his fridge from a previous school, which made your heart swell just a little more – because they were still in mint condition. You’re drawn to this one particular drawing, it’s Pedro inside an Erlenmeyer flask, and on the top, it just says “MR. PEDGE: EXPERIMENT GONE WRONG”

He notices you’re looking at it a lot longer than the others, his smile softens at the sight of the familiar handwriting. “I did an experiment with the kids at my other school, for one of my classes it went wrong and I nearly broke a flask. They never let me live it down – this particular piece is by a kid named Bella,” he hums, “They started calling me Mr. Pedge after finding out my first name was Pedro. Not sure where the GE came from.”

You awe – you knew, obviously, that he was popular amongst the students at your school, but you never considered how the other students at school might’ve felt about him, especially after he left. “She was one of the students that made it hard for me to leave that school, but I couldn’t stay in that place any longer,” he tells you, gently placing an arm around you as you continued looking at the art. “It’s too bad I had to leave there, but I couldn’t stay where everyone had their eyes on me.” you frown, because he still has a lot of eyes on him now.

“Would you go back?” you turn to him, and he raises his eyebrows silently asking for clarification. “To your old school.” his face drops a little – and he thinks about his answer.

“No.” he tells you truthfully, moving so he would lean against one of his kitchen counters and you stand to lean next to him – “I love the students there, and my classroom was bigger, I could have a printer. But the people there know too much about my past. You and Sam aren’t there, and the students here are just as sweet, too.” he pauses and glances over to you, “The labs are nicer, too. And I’m not known as Mr. Pedge — the Erlenmeyer flask nightmare.” You leaned more towards him so your shoulders touched, “Sam and I want you here, too.” you say in a whisper – as if it’s a secret. “Lunch with you is so much better than before, don’t tell them I said that.”

He tsks, even being so bold as to turn his head and plant a soft kiss on the top of your head. “Your secret is safe with me,”

After a moment of sentimental, in-the-moment silence, you speak up – “Do you really hate milk?”

“Every fiber of my bein’.”

April came a lot faster than you expected — not only was the school year almost over, but it was Pedro's birthday.

He had told you recently that he didn't want any big celebration for it, simply being with you was enough. Although his words were very sweet, both you and Pedro knew that wouldn't end up being the case, and it wasn't.

You would've loved to do something with his students somehow, or with the whole staff – but his birthday fell on a Sunday this year, so that couldn't work out the way you wanted it to.

Nonetheless, you weren't going to let your maybe-boyfriend-maybe-not "situationship" (as the kids would call it.) have an uncelebrated birthday.

You set up your apartment for an event for a birthday — just a few banners, a homemade cake by Sam and their husband, and some of the science teachers you invited bringing snacks and booze. You hadn’t even texted him yet today, which was making you rather anxious, thinking about if he was feeling upset that his…Whatever you are had forgotten his birthday (Maybe your gift to him could be labeling your relationship!) but still, you had to get this done. You wanted everything to be perfect.

It wasn't until you finally set up the apartment just the way you wanted it that you texted him. He responded quickly, and while normally you would take dry texting as a telltale sign if someone is upset with you – he always had somewhat of a dry way of texting, so you just took the response as it was, you invited him over later, and he agreed to be at your apartment for seven – Contrary to your guests, who were coming here for six-thirty. So for the time being, you were alone in your birthday party-decorated apartment.

It wasn't until you saw what everyone else had gotten them that you became nervous about your gift.

He was excited to see the decorations, even more so to see the people that showed up. While it may not look like a lot, to him, it was plenty. People who cared and whom he liked talking to both in and outside of work. Everyone got him something extremely nice and personal to him — Sam and Aaron got him more Star Wars apparel, James gifted him a binder that had previous lesson plans for biology that he wouldn't use anymore, and Kelsey gave him Starbucks gift cards and a new watch – which was funny to the science teachers apparently because he was always asking what time it was during meetings.

You got him a fuckin' key.

It wasn't just a random key, but a key to your apartment. You knew other things he liked, but you didn't want to run the risk of getting him the same thing someone else did – which would've happened, you were looking at that same shirt Aaron and Sam bought – but now you're concerned that maybe you should've gotten him something he can show off.

He grabs your little white box and your stomach churns, he knows that yours was the last one — part of him picked his gifts out that way; The best for last. He's confused when the box has a small key inside, he picks it up and looks to you for more of an explanation since you weren't over his shoulder while he was opening things.

“It's a key to the apartment,” you explain, suddenly realizing all the eyes are on you and a teacher – you become flustered at the feeling. “I figured it would be easier, you know – instead of me having to get up, you can let yourself in.”

His eyes soften, his smile grows and his heart warms, even if the gift alone was all the confirmation the other science teachers needed—he never explicitly told them the nature of your relationship, so he didn't want to show you any physical intimacy until you were alone. All he could settle on at the moment was simply saying, “Thank you.”

That was the first night he slept over, nothing happened—everyone left closer to eight-thirty and he didn't want to drive home in the dark, or while feeling as sleepy as he does. Normally he would be up until eight, sometimes eleven—but the party drained him a lot more than he cares to admit.

Sam and Aaron are the last two to leave, and while he knows that when they're around he can do pretty much whatever – he still waits until the door is closed before he slips his arms around you, and you melt into the comfort of his arms. The warmth of his body soothes you.

“Thank you so much for today,” he says quietly, moving his face down to kiss your cheek repeatedly, making you giggle. “And for my amazing gift.”

You place your hands over his arm, leaning your head back ever so slightly just to get a better look at him– “Did you really like it?” he nods, making a small sound so you could actually hear his response. pulling away from you reluctantly, but you only turned to face him–now placing your arms around him instead. “Good,” you say, considering just how lucky you are to be in the position you're in.

“Happy birthday, Pedro.”

hi loves !! I'm sorry for the wait for this chapter.

truthfully, I've had my thoughts PLAUGED by my Joel Miller series The One-Night Stand, and while I love both series', that one is newer, and therefore, on my mind more lololol but I know I have some people that really like MRLM, so I'm trying for you guys !!

I'm also sorry it's short :(( (basically a filler) I'm losing a bit of muse for this series, and might have to put it on hiatus soon, just so I can keep it good (at least I'd like to think it's good LOL) rather than half assed. I just wanted to put this lil note here, just so that nobody is suprised (if they even read this hahahah)

TAGLIST:@djarinsstuff @doodlebob-mp3

@wanniiieeee @zeyzeys-stuff @jay1bird23 @corpsebridenightamare @queerponcho

@peqchsoup @surazim @melanie451 @krisviciousx @elliescumsl0t @theanxietyqueen17 @vasiliki-koshka

@figusquibis @lothirielcorleon @maybedisaster @kpicard @becca193 @themusingkitten @caravelofthesun @coldheartedmar @zanzann @avengersfan25 @missgurrl @wren-2-d

[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

I'll miss Akira Toriyama.

It is suddenly very important to me that you understand how good Dragon Ball actually is.

Because I get it, not everyone lived under the Equator and not everyone cares about battle shonen, but you have to understand that at some point, someone whose art you love probably loved Dragon Ball.

Akira Toriyama managed to influence more than just his medium. He influenced action media worldwide, every week. Almost every comics artist, writer, producer or otherwise industry person, in any country, owns some of their income to Toriyama.

From Jorge Jimenez drawing on the Father-Son Kamehameha for his beautiful tribute to Superman's family during his time drawing Justice League, to Rebecca Sugar making dance explicitly matter to fusion, to fucking Cloud in Final Fantasy 7 just doing his best SSJ2 Gohan cosplay throughout the whole game, anyone creative who liked action cared about Dragon Ball, with 2 degrees of separation being the maximum you could go before your specific 90s-early aughts references reached back to it as well.

And the memes and fame the thing accrued over the years don't quite make that make sense, because if you've never seen it, it just looks and sounds like a run-of-the-mill bad shonen show where people scream all the time and don't really grow as characters. But that's not what that series actually is. The anime is what got popular, sure, but as a manga, Dragon Ball is one of the most well-executed, funniest, fast-paced pieces of literature Shonem Jump has published, and it's crazy to think how much of it is just Toriyama improvising.

It's not perfect, obviously -- it's rote and it's old and it's repetitive, but it never stops being a good, read. It never stops being interesting, or well-designed, or fun. You'll open a chapter and something about it will make you smile, or make you laugh, or just keep you entertained enough that you have to read the next one. The fact this man made all of this weekly, without a grander plan than "I want to draw a martial arts comedy" and then codified the way we think about transformations, power struggles, action paneling in general-- there's quite literally no one else with that kind of range on their contributions to modern pop comics. We start talking Tezuko or Oda when we start talking about who's had as much an impact on the genre, and then you find out of course Oda is a Dragon Ball kid, and Kishimoto is a Dragon Ball kid, everyone whose manga you love after the 90s is a Dragon Ball kid.

And look, it's not like you have to love Dragon Ball or anything: it's art and like any art it won't connect to certain people, and it will be poison to others. You not being into Dragon Ball is fine and it's valid, and it's definitely not the first work of that nature to have a worldwide impact. Akira didn't invent manga, he just made a really good one.

But, fuck, the world is a less interesting place without Akira Toriyama in it. He brought out something so many people identified with nearly effortlessly. The guy just wanted to make us laugh and have fun; all the yelling and violence and world-ending threats came later. I need you to keep that somewhere in your head when the subject is Dragon Ball. It's fun first.

Everyone, at some point, got together and loved and lived a series that was about hard work paying off, and had a blast with it. But more than that, everyone loved a really funny, fun-loving series that could always put a smile in your face first and foremost, no matter what the villain of the arc did to Earth or the heroes. And that changed the world more than any of the thousands of edgy manga about fights always getting bigger and the protagonist always getting stronger did. Because Dragon Ball isn't just that. It is that in some level, of course, but more importantly, it's a kid stepping on poo and screaming about how gross that is. It's Majin Buu hanging out with Mr. Satan and a puppy because he loves having friends. It's a Super Saiyan bargain sale, it's Bulma shooting Goku startled, it's Kuririn not having a nose and being able to beat some dude who smells. And that's fucking hilarious.

Teach that dinosaur how to ride a ball, Toriyama. You earned it.

[teememdee]

2023 ART SUMMARY!!!

2023 was uhhhhhhh a year! And I made art! And I’m going to talk for a long time about everything I did month by month! Yippee!!!

original individual posts can be found in my #tanner art tag!

JANUARY

Started off the year with my favorite skrunklies sleepy and snuggling. Then sleeping together while holding one another is so incredibly important to me, they’re so cute and I needed to draw it. Struggled with Kai’Sa’s face but I particularly like the drapery of the pillow behind them.

FEBRUARY

First off, just a simple Kai’Sa piece for the Vibes(TM) and background practice. I was also fairly miserable and when I get miserable I draw Kai’Sa being miserable as well. I love my favorite character of all time <3

Then a quick Valentine’s Day piece, soft gradient map stuff. Love my skrunklies, hopefully this year I can make something for the day that isn’t rushed

MARCH

In March I FINALLY finished my Star Guardian Kahri fic, be the light to carry me, and drew Kiko and Ina being adorable together to go along with it. They’re SO cute and people LOVE that fic. Chapter 3 ended up being a whole 20k words and every time I re-read I’m amazed that I wrote it.

A kiss for Kai’Sa’s birthday! This was actually two sketches mashed together because I had a good Kai’Sa and a good Ahri on separate attempts. Love Kai’Sa’s smile on this one.

NOW. Strong contender for my favorite piece of the year. Captioned “please don’t lose yourself,” my K/DA-verse Kassadin’s very dead wife’s ghost weighs on him, begging him to not get lost in his grief and lose sight of their daughter. Kassadin feels lost and broken without her. I love the emotions in this one, and I think the idea comes across even without knowledge of my headcanons. Love it so much.

APRIL

Full-body piece that took me all month. I just love this one so much. It’s just pure Kahri, pure love, pure joy. Pose inspired by Blake Belladonna from RWBY’s leg pop during the long-awaited Bumblby kiss. This piece just makes me so happy.

MAY

Oops! No art! Was too busy being on a (student) film set every weekend as well as dealing with classes and multiple other stressors. I did START a piece though, but wouldn’t finish it until the middle of June.

JUNE

I actually did the first sketch of the Evelynn piece in February, but I decided to revamp it in May, and then when school finally set me free I finished it, and it turned out exactly how I wanted it to. Her hair was a labor to render but I'm so so pleased with how it looks, as well as the blood. The first time I've finished a fully rendered Evelynn piece!

Naafiri is so fucking cool. Upon her reveal, I was seeing so much incredible fanart and I just needed to get in on it. The shapes and points are just so good. I used to draw dogs all the time as a kid, and my younger self would absolutely flip out at seeing this. I did this piece in one day, and I have no idea how I pulled that background off but hopefully I can do it again some day lol

JULY

Two drastically different vibes here. Realized it had been forever since I had drawn Kahri so I just wanted to make a cute summertime piece. Their hands should be bigger and it bugs me but this is still really cute, I missed my girls dearly.

And then my very very sad man Kassadin being very very sad about his very very dead wife. This is what I call his phase 2 design, when he's at the peak of his grief (spiraling, as emphasized by the background) and feels just so sad and alone. In my head this and the March piece are part of a series that I hope to continue.

AUGUST

Just one piece that took me all month because I was quite busy in August, and Runeterra Kahri pieces take forever, but as I always say, it's always worth it. This pose comes from mellon_soup on instagram, who makes a lot of really great pose references for artists to use, highly recommend checking them out. This piece is just so soft to me. Captioned "'you're beautiful, you know that?'" they're saying it to each other, two people that struggle with their self image finding love and confidence in the other. Also I'm so very happy with the background. I love these two so so so so much, they're my world.

SEPTEMBER

One of my goals for this year was to branch out in the fanart I made. Baldur's Gate 3 came along and I love watching my best friend play it, we love Shadowheart and I just wanted to draw her. This came after a lot of sketches of both her and our favorite Tav that ended up changing how I draw eyes. The rendering of her face here is also something I'm proud of, her nose looks great. And again, the background! This piece didn't get a lot of attention at all but that's okay, I made it for me and I'm very happy with it.

OCTOBER

STAR WARS TOXIC YURI WENT CRAZY THIS YEAR!!! Wolfwren (Sabine Wren x Shin Hati, from the Ahsoka TV series) had me by the THROAT for a solid two months or so, I haven't been that feral and deranged over a ship in a hot minute. They had me frothing at the mouth every episode even though I did not like the show overall. Anyways. First piece is a redraw of the part in episode 4 where they just have the most charged eye contact of all time, and I decided to take that in stride with inspiration from Horimiya, a favorite anime of mine, during particularly emotionally charged moments, the background changes and there's a particular color silhouette behind them. It really fits that moment of the show and I am SO proud of these faces, especially Sabine's. Drawing from a real human face reference was kinda new to me but it's taught me a lot. The file size also ended up enormous somehow idk lol

Then, my most popular piece of the year, on both tumblr and twitter. I LOVE hand imagery, I love subtle hand touches, I churned this out in I think exactly one day, it's so soft it's so cute and I totally understand the overwhelming positivity it received.

NOVEMBER

I was not doing well at this time in the year. The state of the world just had me in a horrible mental state, I wasn't taking care of myself well at all, I couldn't get myself to make art, especially something happy or cute, it just felt wrong. But then sometimes you feel something so strong and specific there's no other way to process it than to make art. To make a long story short, earlier in the year I thought a girl liked me, I liked her back, but it turned out she did indeed have a boyfriend the whole time. We didn't see or talk to each other for a few months but in November we (and the bf, lol) met up again. When she saw me at the door she smiled at me so sweetly and it was just the worst feeling ever and I just had to hide it behind a smile and a wave. Oversharing aside, this is a style I'd wanted to execute for a while and I'm really pleased with how it turned out, would love to make more like this.

DECEMBER

All of this was done / finished in the first two weeks of the month because then I got sick + was visiting family + jet lag took me out. Kinda sad I didn't get something done for Ahri's birthday or a traditional Kahri Winter piece but that's what January is for. Anyway.

Sometimes you just want to draw girls kissing and sometimes you wanna make it a little suggestive. Not much to say. Proud of the drapery on Kai'Sa's sleeve and you can always tell I love drawing hands.

Now it's time for classwork. Here I just have two pages but I've posted the whole comic on its own, this was for my "Art and Text" class, I have it printed in a booklet and my classmates + friends have responded to it so sweetly I'm really proud, I really really want to make more comics. This project was a culmination of so many inspirations from other artists and I'm really happy with the execution even if it was really rough for me to manage my time well for that class.

Then for my "Fiction and Allegory" class, two of my friends and I made a storyboard film (which I don't want to share publicly, but if I know you you can ask for a link) and during the all-nighter two of us pulled to get it done on time, I decided one scene needed music instead of diegetic sound, so I churned this out on garageband in about an hour. Would definitely love to try my hand at making more music in the future. Wish my classmates / teacher liked / understood the film more but oh well. I learned a lot and for the thousandth time, I'm proud of what I did.

IN CONCLUSION:

I ended up with less full pieces than 2022 but what I did create in 2023 are big, detailed, emotional pieces, and I'm more than satisfied. I think my skills in rendering, backgrounds, and colors really improved and I'm looking forward to how I continue to improve in 2024. This upcoming year has a lot of scary stuff ahead (namely graduating college) but I will come out the other side regardless, hopefully with just as much art I'm proud of.

If you read all of this, thank you!! If you've liked, shared, or commented on any of my art, thank you!!!!!! It means the world, always.

[arthyritis]

A Wonderful World (Welcome Home/Puppet Friends AU) - Chapter Seven

"Just a little lower!" Sweetie instructed Ren, who was lowering Yay into the waste paper basket by a scarf wrapped around their middle. Ren followed her words, lowering Yay until their arms could reach the papers and mess them around.

"I don't see anything, Sweetie," they said, their face morphing into a frown through the mesh of the basket. "Phoebe's writings, some missing poster drafts, a page of old homework. No Pip."

"Please. Look closer," Sweetie begged, pressing her nose to the outside of the basket. The mesh was so tight it was impossible to see anything specific.

Zero stood next to her, their hand on her back rubbing gentle circles. Besides Pip and Phoebe, Zero was Sweetie's next best friend; they were everyone's best friend. They took care of everyone in special ways. Their bigger body was perfect for cuddles, shade, and more. But their best quality was how comforting and soft they were with just their body language. Sweetie smiled at them.

"OH! I think I do see something, actually!" Yay exclaimed, twisting in the makeshift harness. Ren dropped them just a little bit lower and their hand grabbed something. "Pull me up, Ren!"

The pig puppet did as asked again, pulling Yay the entire journey up to the desk with ease. She sat down and untied the scarf, trying to see what Yay was holding, and her eyes widened when she did.

A small piece of purple plastic, as small as a broken pencil lead. Ren didn't like the look of that, but was distracted as Sweetie climbed up the wall of pegs to the desk, stumbling dizzily for a moment before crawling the rest of the way over to them.

"What is it? What is it!"

Phoebe turned over on her bed to watch, too. She was highly confused, the explanation Sweetie had given her highly condensed to just the bare details, but her interest was piqued by the shouts nonetheless. The puppets were all shielding whatever Yay had found, so, as quick as she could, she got back into her wheelchair and went over to the desk, helping Zero up along the way. "What did you find?" she asked sleepily.

Yay held their hand out, and Phoebe's brow scrunched in concentration. "That's..."

"A piece of Pip's hearing aid. He did fall into the basket. But where did he go from there?"

,

"So, Wally told me you're coming to the picnic this weekend, Pip," Eddie spoke, covering his mouth politely as he chewed.

He was almost finished with his second plate of macaroni and cheese, while Pip had eaten one and put the plate in the sink already. Julie was fighting herself on whether to go back for thirds or save the leftovers for later.

"Oh, yeah, I am." Pip smiled easily. "Arts and crafts and food. It sounds like fun."

"And games!" Julie shouted enthusiastically, ultimately losing the battle with herself and scooping just a little bit more food on her plate. She really liked her own cooking, though admitted she wasn't as good as Poppy's baked goods. "I help set up the games and stuff every time. New games, known games, even some really cool games from other places! Oh boy, remember last year that game we played with the water balloons?"

"When Frank got one right to the face?" Eddie shuddered. "Yeah, one thing I'll never forget is their reaction." His southern accent was deep as he talked, and Pip admired it somewhat. All of the neighbours here were so unique but at the same time...

Eddie reminded him of Yay, with their shared clumsiness and ability to chat and chat and chat, and Julie reminded him of Sweetie, both sweet as a button with seemingly unlimited amounts of energy to boot. They made him miss sitting at home and having tea parties or drawing with the two smaller puppets, but it didn't feel as bad, anymore.

"Speaking of the picnic, I've wanted to ask ya somethin', Pip." The little button eyed puppet looked over at him, but Eddie couldn't hold contact, standing to take his plate to the sink. "I was wondering if you'd wanna help out with anything. Making a banner or placemats, maybe? You're an artist, right? I saw the little doodles outside; they weren't just Julie's."

Pip flushed, nodding even though Eddie couldn't see. "I draw, occasionally. I'd love to help out."

Julie finished her plate in record time, smacking her hands on the table in her excitement. "I can help after I'm done the games list!"

"Sounds good!" Eddie said, clapping his hands. "Well, I've got to head out of town for the rest of the day, but I'll be back tomorrow. Maybe you two want to draw up some designs for that banner, or soemthin'?"

"Sure, Eddie."

"Have a good trip, don't fall!" Julie laughed, and Eddie laughed with her, tipping his hat politely. "Bye, Eddie!"

"Bye, you two!" And he was out the door.

,

Julie and Pip got to work on some more drawings after Julie had found some loose papers to draw on.

It was getting a little late, not quite dinnertime, when there was a knock on the door and Julie went to open it. Pip sighed, assuming it was the same puppet who'd apparently taken it upon himself to collect Pip almost every day, but then it heard a different voice and softened.

"Hello, Julie. Eddie told me Pip was here. I need to talk to him."

"Oh, hi, Frank! It is!" The door closed. "We're just drawing, if you want to join."

Frank walked around the corner into the living room, their frown replaced by an almost straight, disinterested look. They were wearing a tan coat and hat and held a net and empty container. "I don't have time for that right now. Can I talk to Pip alone please?"

Julie nodded and skipped to the kitchen while Frank set down his bug-hunting supplies and stood in front of Pip, who was watching with interest and a bit of concern.

"What's the matter, Frank?" it asked, pushing the drawing it was working on away.

It had doodled various butterflies and filled the page, but didn't feel like colouring them.

Frank sat down in a nearby armchair, pinching his nose and looking mighty tired. "You'll have to forgive me if I leave out any details; it's been a long day. But... I heard Wally and Barnaby talking earlier and thought you might find the information beneficial."

That's where Pip noticed how ragged Frank looked. His coat was buttoned up the wrong way, and his hair was pushed up under his hat messily.

He'd rushed over here just to tell Pip this information, whatever it was. Pip found that sweet.

"That doesn't sound good. Why did Julie have to leave?" Pip asked, looking toward the kitchen vaguely.

"Because I assume you haven't told them about any of this stuff with you, and I cannot handle their energy and questions right now." Still pinching their nose, Frank took a deep breath. "Wally was telling Barnaby about your chat this morning. About telling you why you're here. It's not true. Not completely, anyway."

Pip's ears rang and it stared in silence until they stopped. Odd. That had only happened this morning when it'd left the tap running.

"I had my doubts it was the full truth," it admitted, blinking to clear its head. "Did he say the actual reason?" It already wasn't that hopeful, but the twisting shake of Frank's head doused any hope it may have had.

"I think he knew I was listening."

"Oh... is that bad?"

"Well, he's not dangerous or anything, but it's not good, either." Frank left it at that. "Now, about the picnic Eddie's hosting. It'll be in Home's backyard, that's where we host all our events, just given the nature of the house. It's alive, it likes to be included."

"That makes sense, I guess," Pip mumbled, brow furrowed. "Why are you bringing this up, suddenly?"

"Because it might give us a chance to investigate." Frank's frown shifted up into a small smile.

Pip didn't peg him as a mischievous type if it was being honest, and it was just another reminder of his own friends. Ren was responsible, but ultimately she really enjoyed a bit of trickery every now and again.

The button-eyed puppet nodded, smiling, too. "Okay... but wouldn't it be good to have some help? I think Julie would be perfect for this."

Frank's hand rose to their hat, adjusting it as they peered toward the kitchen. "You're right, she'd love in on this, but as much as I love having another Lepidoptera lover in the neighbourhood, this isn't where you belong, and she wouldn't understand that. It should be our secret, at least for now."

Pip couldn't help but agree with that logic.

,

They said their goodbyes, and after a couple more drawings it was time for Pip to return to his house; another knock on the door signified that, Wally standing there with his hands tucked behind his back, his little black shoe tapping the ground. He stared straight into Pip's soul.

"Ready to go?"

"Bye, Julie!" Pip said with a wave, the pink puppet waving back enthusiastically with a drawn-out, "Byeeeee!"

Wally walked alongside Pip in silence, and Pip noticed that ringing again. He stopped in his steps, watching Wally walk a few more ahead before he realised they weren't together anymore.

"What's wrong, neighbour?" His voice sounded muffled, further away than he was, and almost completely overtaken by the ringing now. "Puppet?"

All at once he pulled himself back to the present. His head felt light and he was dizzy. Maybe that fall his first day was just now hitting him. Did he have a concussion? Should he see Poppy?

Wally's voice called him back again and he started walking to catch up.

"M'fine," he said, passing by and hoping Wally couldn't tell otherwise, the smart guy he played.

"If you say so, neighbour," Wally shrugged, falling back into step beside him. "So, how was drawing with Julie? She's my favourite artist in the neighbourhood, other than myself. It's why she decorated so much of your house."

Pip glanced up at Wally sideways. Part of that was news to him. "You draw?"

"I paint," Wally nodded. "Still-life portraits, things for my neighbours. But my favourite thing to paint is apples, with all of their intricate details and blemishes. They're very interesting if you look at them long enough." Pip couldn't hold in a laugh, and Wally looked surprised. "What? It's true."

"It is true, that's why I'm laughing. Phoebe has said the same thing about her drawings for art class. Though, she was a bit more sarcastic about it, you sound genuine in your love of apples."

"I am very genuine about my love of apples. They're a lifeblood." Wally's eyes were wide as he explained. "There are apple trees all around Home. One might think it's because I planted them, but they've been here a very long time, and they're important to the neighbourhood's maintenance."

This felt weird, Wally being so talkative. But then again, Pip was chatting its heart away back. Maybe this was just how Wally was like with his neighbours once they got used to being here...

Was it used to being here? This day seemed to be proving that all too quickly.

"Something on your mind?" Wally asked, but Pip just pressed its lips together and shook its head. Wally pointed to the house they were at, and Pip hadn't realised they were here already. "Good night, Pip."

"Night, Wally." Pip walked into its house and closed the door with a smile.

It made a quick dinner of pasta and sauce and then got ready for the night, walking around its bedroom and grabbing pyjamas after realising it'd been wearing the same clothes for three days and that probably wasn't normal here like it was at home. Everyone else seemed to change every time he saw them, at least, but no one had pointed it out.

The pyjamas were light blue with clouds, and actually a little bit big, but it found it liked that as it held them in front of itself in the mirror. It then took off its yellow and white shirt carefully. It hadn't seen itself like this in a long time...

The scars on its chest showed to it first and it held its breath. They weren't battle scars like its friends, not in the traditional sense, anyway, but it didn't like to dwell. It pulled the shirt up the rest of the way, revealing the heart patch also on its chest, but more upper middle than down by its ribs where the scars were.

He buttoned the short-sleeved shirt onto himself quickly, then pulled on the shorts and tied them at the waist. They were soft and comfortable, and he smiled again.

What possessed him afterwards, he didn't know, but he put the receiver of the phone back onto the base before he hopped into bed, then took his hearing aids off to lay more comfortably against the pillow. The world was immediately silenced, and he was already asleep by the time the phone rang with Wally saying good night a second time.

[partyinthemysterymachine]

I notice how you draw Harry and James is pretty different from how they look in game. I was curious how you decided their looks. It's interesting to hear about that sort of thing if you don't mind answering. Thanks

hi anon!! :3 thanks for the ask!! i will do my best to explain myself LOL but no promises it'll make any sense >:3c!

so let's go on a fun lil' art journey, anon. grab a granola bar and some gatorade, and c'mon!!!

well first and foremost: i am a NOTORIOUS "i do what i want"-er. going off the beaten path to the beat of my own drum is my favorite thing to do!

.. that said!! as i've mentioned before, actor Josh Charles was my first PB/"cast" for Harry Mason.

and my very first piece of silent hill fanart (march 10, 2018) really reflects that, LOL

incredibly, and almost a full year later to the date, i drew and posted this on march 4, 2019. now THIS is actually the closest canon-Harry i've ever drawn. (this was also around the start of the SH RP i was doing with a friend, which then spawned GOOMT lol.)

april 25, 2019. first color piece for any SH art and my first "real" time drawing james. this is also the last time you'll see him with his bangs on the "correct" side LOL.

april 30, 2019. the SH RP is still going on, and this is where i'm starting to get a better handle on what i want them to look like. Harry also gets a maroon sweater. he's also notably thinner here, and still has a lot of Josh Charles vibes.

sept 22, 2019. james sunderland thinnest browns edition. the bangs will be drawn on the right from now on.

(the only reason why they're on the right is because i forgot which way his hair actually parted. oops.)

the RP has ended. the first chapter of GOOMT is written a tumblr post and subsequently posted to tumblr october 3, 2019. i write/pst chapters 1 - 4 in the following days, then draw them again:

james's jacket is still short (but at least he has eyebrows!!); harry is still thin(ner). he's also got more of a canon-harry super low cut sweatervest.

ch 5, 6 is written/posted to tumblr. i draw and post this on october 27, 2019. please clap for my art journey LMAO

you'll also notice hte presence of A Knife. this is actually Angela's knife. shhh. ;)

still figuring out what they look like in goomt here tbh.

stuff from the following week. more figuring out! DRASTICALLY different Harry, too! still very Josh Charles-y, but starting to take on his own look as well. (note his greys!!)

i like DILFs. i like dad bods. he was intended to be a little soft around the middle.

it's not until January 2020 that i draw these idiots again:

very different nose for james lmao.

this is actually my first full body for both in awhile.

(i'm redoing this :3)

also more "accurate" debut of Harry's jacket!! this jacket was ALWAYS intended to look/be bigger on him. i can't really explain why because i don't know, other than it felt right.

at this point i've figured out how i want Harry to look. his design elements are very simple, because i'm EXTREMELY self-indulgent and i really. REALLY like:

widow's peaks

big thick eyebrows

noses. big beak noses

old men

grey hair

(you can actually find this sort of pattern across my various OCs that you'll never find evidence of on my blog anymore haha except for Zach good luck tho. >:3c)

January then gets very busy in the art department for these guys.

Harry finally gets more of a pudge and starts to "look" like himself. James also starts to "look" like himself.

a note on james's bangs: i uhhhhhhh. Stylistically, i have a thing for drawing Big Hair and Tall Bangs. this is seen in my version of Jonathan Crane. but also my hair used to do the exact same bangs so are you really surprised.

(bonus pieces of abandoned James GOOMT character sheet from 2001. i might have the files somewhere if you guys want to see What Almost Was LMAO)

more from January 2020. rubs chin.

it isn't until the end of Janurary/beginning of February that Harry finally Gets Fatter.

i'd been very unused to drawing fat people until Harry, and had been struggling up until here with actually drawing a more accurate representation of his body type to the one i saw in my head!

the reason why i made him fat is because it made sense to me that he was. people change, and being a single father changed him a lot. (and also i recognize that the only reason why the Dead Harry model was lean in sh3 was because it was a recycled Dead James model and they were Legit not going to actually put too much thought into it otherwise lmfao)

march 2020. still getting used to drawing Harry's body type!! also: even tho James's jacket is Longer in my head, i'm still trying to draw it the game-canon length.

idk why.

August 2020, James long jacket hours!!! and Harry really getting his look.

and FINALLY, one of my FAVORITES i've ever done of these two!!:

james's jacket is short here (only bc i was a Dumbass and forgot to make it longer i think?? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who's to say), but this is also the color debut for the backpack!!

(bonus Sept 16 2020 YOUNG HARRY CONCEPT from when he pierced his ears in the 90s thinking Jodi was going to find him soooo handsome. he sure is he cute huh)

BONUS MATERIAL:

attempted to re-do their character sheets back in 2021. this did not go as planned, and i was having a very hard year doing ANY personal art, so. gestures.

(sorry i had to put them up here like this it's just a screenshot of the two files in preview bc i'm Totally Incompetent when it comes to computers lmfao)

this is where we are now!! now as these are just sketches for their Newest character sheets, Harry is a liiittle different in the actual file and is is literally just a screenshot of what i've already posted like mentioned above lmao.

what it comes down to is this:

FOR JAMES

i actually just forgor what he looked like and didn't ref my art to what he looked like in-game. simple as that! LOL

in the initial RP, James was played by my friend, while i grabbed the reins to Harry, so i naturally preserved some of the base features of what my friend decided for James (lean, Super Sad And Wet, pale af). i slapped on the caterpillar brows (this is also a thing i'm historically known for in character design), did some tweaks, and also let James evolve himself as i became a better artist.

longer coat because Aesthetics that's why LOL. i don't like the short jacket he wears in game-canon and i needed GOOMT james to put his hands in his pockets like how i drew him above. Reasons.

he's also so pale because [REDACTED] and much thinner than his in-game model because he did Not take care of himself very well in those three years during Mary's illness. (it's also in his genetics: Frank is lean, too (however much taller than James, rip dude 😔))

FOR HARRY

switch from blue to maroon: i like maroon/burgundy. (i realize later that the color he wears is more on the side of burgundy but y'all i hate the color spectrum and it can definitely also be called maroon so it's maroon LOL) i also just thought it looked better on him. the only other reason i can think of as to why i changed it was because.. people change. this is a new era in his life. i kept it a (more modest, sh1 harry you whore <3) v-neck sweater as a nod to his game-canon but just.. changed it to maroon. probably just a designator.

he's fat because of reasons detailed above (fatherhood, life on the road, settling down, etc). and also because he's hot and he deserves that. self-indulgent.

hair, nose, elf ears: self-indulgent.

for Harry especially there are a lot of aspects about him that "almost were" but got cut out of his development for one reason or another an really he's better off that way. i really really don't like to force development or force a "look".

the main reason i guess above all else is that Harry looks so different than his game canon is because he's not that Harry anymore. and in sh3, you never see the guy's face: him dead. i can't even recall if i'd seen the dead Harry model in full before trying to hammer out what GOOMT Harry looked like. young GOOMT Harry would look a lot closer to what his game model looks like, tho. i can tell you that much :3 (one day i'll draw a Younger Harry but don't expect it anytime soon unless the inspiration REALLY strikes lmfao)

a lot of their changes are just not that deep, honestly. my vision for them comes from forgetting which way the bangs go (looks James), developign them in my head over time, The Vibes™️, and The Indulgences™️. i'm a creature of habit for sure in the character design department LOL but my world my puddle we play in it.

i should go to bed now!! but if you have any questions about something else or anything about their designs in particular PLS let me know!! i realy REALLY love this question and wanted to answer it RIGHT NOW IMMEDIATELY (even tho it's been two hours since and I NEED TO GO TO BEEED DGLDFDFGDGFSKGDFDKGSDFGKH O O O P S ) SO i hope you enjoyed that little trip down memory lane (and my art tag archive LOL) and you have a good safe healthy and cool day :3c!!

[neapologist873]

Tykki's (and Joyd's) role in DGM

This is going to be an extremely long one because I think about Tykki way more than is probably healthy. Spoilers included.

Everything about his character is so, so fascinating, and I truly feel like his role in the story is overlooked. Which probably sounds weird, considering Katsura has left so many interesting bits and pieces to suggest that he plays a bigger role than he’s first presented as having. But it’s so much more than just having the same (albeit more mature) appearance as Nea. 

To start with, there is the matter of Tykki’s birthday. I don’t believe Katsura has ever confirmed whether or not these birthdays relate to the human hosts’ birthdays, or the time in which the Noah awoke within them. Part of why I started to wonder about this is because Wisely has a canon birthday and it is within winter—February 4th. When we see him first awaken, it is also shown to be very cold (you can see the officers' breath), so it is presumably winter. It could be that Katsura wanted to give him a birthday so fans had a day to celebrate him on, but it still feels peculiar. The story seems to suggest that Wisely has always been an orphan living on the streets, so I doubt that he would know his birthday. And perhaps it is, again, Katsura giving him a birthday more for the fans and he doesn’t actually know it himself. I could even be wrong that it wasn’t February when Wisely of the Demonic Eyes awoken because it is snowing during the three month timeskip for the Searching for A.W. arc of the story. But I still like to think that the birthdays are when the Noah awakens within a host, or at least in the case of Tykki it is. 

A big reason why I want to believe this is that Allen’s innocence first awoken on Christmas, the same day as Tykki’s “birthday”. Allen’s consciousness before this event seemed to start melding with Nea’s a bit, as he recognizes Mana’s song and begins to even remember a time in which he was held (with Katsura drawing a dying Nea in past Allen’s arms). I think this means that Nea was potentially awakening during this time, but that Allen’s innocence activating regressed this. Because while getting injured by innocence led to Nea awakening for real, Allen’s innocence actively works to prevent it. And as I’ve noted before, Allen’s wrinkles and the strain that is presented with his red arm seems eerily similar to the way in which Katsura draws Kanda’s signs of becoming a Fallen One. With the way lines have been dropped in the beginning to describe Allen’s innocence as “looking to have been forced upon him”, I suppose we can take his arm’s appearance as a sign it was trying to reject him. Probably not because he is an unsuitable accomodator, but because it was trying to keep Nea in slumber. His arm also changes once it has switched from being a “diamond in the rough”, and I do theorize that he is already a crystal-type user, so. 

Going back to my original point, Tykki seems tied to Nea directly, but especially Joyd. When Nea says that Tykki’s (Joyd’s) reincarnated appearance makes him sick, Joyd actually takes over for a moment and smiles. And this smile is the exact same one he had when Nea awoke from the dream in chapter 184 (we can tell this is Nea and not necessarily Allen based upon several context clues and personal interpretations I have. Those being:

The bored face he makes when he realizes he’s dreaming and says “oh what a bad dream” is similar to the annoyed faces Katsura draws him to have when he takes over the body, especially during his interactions with people he finds annoying/boring (think of his interactions with Link)

Nea has appeared in Allen’s dreams on numerous occasions

As the dream progresses, letters in “Allen” begin to fade, but it’s always in quotation marks. 

Allen takes on a child form, but he still has his scar and white hair. Allen never appeared this way before Mana. While Nea was surprised by Allen’s white hair when he saw it, he still lives in Allen’s subconscious and can see some of his memories. So perhaps he just created a form that the dream Mana would recognize while not knowing that his current body didn’t look like that during the time of that memory

Allen pulls a face when Mana asks “Why do you have that big sword in you?” but as he talks some more, it is then that he takes on a sad face and says “...Mana…?” Nea has never seen adult Mana, nor in his clown form, so he probably recognized his voice more than anything. But Mana appeared as a clown because this is the form Allen associates with him most. 

The dream begins to fade once the line “I’m not “...”. Call me Allen” is written. I interpret this in a number of ways. It’s clear that Allen’s subconscious is also bleeding into this dream, so it’s likely Allen is saying this. We know that ‘Allen’ was technically never his name, and in the light novel he wishes to be called that due to the circumstances. But you could also say that the “...” was Mana saying Nea, and that’s why the dream begins to end with Nea awakening while thinking “call me…”. Perhaps he wants Mana to call him by his name instead, or he is okay with being thought of as Allen, so long as Mana is smiling. It is also possible that the “...” is not Nea, but Red, and this is Allen forsaking his old identity to become Mana’s “Allen”. 

Nea is clearly the one that awakens from this dream based on the expression he has, Lenalee’s fear, and the fact his scar begins to throb. The wound was left by the exorcist sword, and while it hurt Allen because he was in control of the body at the time, it was really seeking to hurt Nea. I think Nea’s scowl could be a bit bittersweet; anger because it’s what Nea expresses best, but also because he was woken up and taken away from Mana, in a sense. And perhaps he feels Envy that his host has memories of a Mana he doesn’t. 

After the cutaway from this dream, Tykki’s scar also begins to sting and he asks “what is this emotion?”. Note that this speech bubble has the dark matter around it, a visual hint Katsura uses whenever Joyd or a Noah is taking over the host or is speaking. It is Joyd who feels his scar begin to hurt the same moment Nea’s begins to hurt. Perhaps he feels what Nea is feeling as well, but when that line is spoken, the edges around the bubble are gone. Tykki is the one who doesn’t understand what he is feeling, either because it is Joyd’s bloodlust or because it is Nea’s feelings from having awoken from the dream. Either way, it is clear that Tykki is distressed by this all, and that all of the broken glass was due to Joyd’s outburst.

In the broken shards from the window, we see Joyd reflected back with the same smile he always flashes Nea. He is aware that Nea—his enemy—is beginning to awaken and he’s happy. I did say that Joyd, as the Noah of Hedonism, is likely linked to what happened back on the day of Nea’s betrayal as he’s written to be like Lord Henry from Dorian Gray (the kanji characters used for ‘pleasure’ (快楽) are half of the word for hedonism (快楽説) and the phrase ‘murder for pleasure’ (快楽殺人)). So it seems clear that Joyd is doing a lot of things to spite Nea because he takes pleasure in his suffering. If Nea in the past was distrustful of the Noah family but Mana saw them as a genuine family, then it really does make sense that Joyd’s grudge could have started even from back then, and that leading Mana towards “devouring” Nea could have been the most joyful feeling for him. 

So from my eyes, suggesting that Joyd had awoken when Nea was suffering (as well as Mana) years ago on Christmas day doesn’t seem far-fetched. When Allen was in the Ark, he sensed Tykki’s incoming attack before anyone else did. This could have just been hinting that he has a strong sense for danger, but what if it was really Nea? Noah can’t escape from each other, as shown in recent chapters when Allen is trying to evade Tykki, Wisely, and the akuma on his tail but they can sense Nea within him no matter what. And Tykki also seems to have an uncanny sense for finding Allen as well, even more than the other Noah, as if they were two opposite poles of a magnet. 

Another thing to note is that one of the Komui QnA omakes says that the Earl has been in-charge of Tykki’s education since he was a boy, he just never liked studying and that’s why it didn’t get very far. The Earl is clearly able to manifest in some way even when Mana is himself, so it could still happen and have the timeline make sense as Tykki would have been 18 when Allen invoked his innocence— but since Road was already awaiting for the true Earl to return to them even before this, perhaps it's possible for Tykki to have been living with the Earl even before then. Because Sheril might have awoken before him and the Noah of Desire and Hedonism have always been linked, according to Katsura, the Earl could have taken Tykki in waiting for his turn. It’s unclear whether or not Tykki and Sheril–the hosts–are brothers or if Joyd and Desire are, however. But, as shown in the flashbacks when Skin Boric was awakening as a Noah, it seems like the Earl can sense when it’s happening way beforehand, so having Tykki by his side wouldn’t be odd. And with the way Wisely and Tykki are shown to have many parallels between them and how they enjoy the same hobbies, I like to think that it’s because they have “being past orphans living on the streets” in common. I mean, Sheril is an aristocrat and it’s unclear whether he married into that money, but regardless, only Tykki seems to have an extreme displeasure for that kind of lifestyle and he has also never set foot into a school according to his own words. All of that seems unusual and I can’t see Sheril allowing that to be, even if he dotes on him so much.  

Regardless, I do believe that Joyd most likely awoke on Christmas and that Tykki’s birthday isn’t his birthday as the host. It’s not really Allen’s birthday either, but rather the time in which he was adopted and Nea (and even Mana) suffered, so making Tykki’s “birthday” the same day seems more like Katsura saying Nea and Tykki are directly linked, with he and Allen being the same due to being hosts.  

Even aside from that, their scars hurting at the same time is one of the first clues of foreshadowing that they’re tied to each other that Katsura includes. And then there was also the time Wisely himself even said that Tykki looked just like “that man”. Wisely is the only one with memories of all of his previous lives, so he would remember Nea and hold the answers as to why Nea seems to hate Joyd in particular.

But as a reader, the /why/ behind Tykki having Nea’s face is… well, I’m unsure. There’s not really a clear answer as to why this would be, but I did once write out this prediction for the old Noah’s forms (this is from chapter 187 or 188 I believe). 

My predictions themselves aren’t important, it’s more about the fact that the current hosts for the Noahs seem to bear a lot of resemblance to their old, true forms. Road’s silhouette is easy to make out, even if the Dreams Noah appears older here; one clearly has Nea’s hair which is why I believe him to be Adam; the one I labeled as Wisdom looks like they have trailing fabric behind them like how Wisely wraps cloth around his head; etc. And the one I think might be Joyd does have similar hair to Adam /Nea from what we can see. I’m just not sure where to go from there, other than that maybe it’s a bit of foreshadowing for things we just do not know about as of yet. 

One idea I’ve had relates to the scene with the mirror, when Adam destroys Mana’s face because he hates how it reminds him of the twins. Artificial bodies are a thing in this universe, and memories and even souls can be somewhat transportated or travel through reincarnation. It was said that Nea (and I’m assuming thereby Mana) aren’t able to undergo reincarnation (presumably because of something to do with their souls if we’re going off of Dorian in Dorian Gray, as Dorian virtually sold his to the devil), and that is why Nea needed a host. So perhaps it is possible to transport Noah memories through other means. Why someone would go through the trouble of making a body that resembles Mana and Nea to host Joyd’s soul is beyond me, but there are some things that hint towards it:

Tykki being virtually raised by the Earl

He has a last name different from Sheril who is a lot older than him and who we know the Earl likes to pawn orphans onto 

Akuma are artificial people/weapons that can wear a person’s body. And the Earl is able to devour souls, so he could potentially have the ability to transport them, no? Alongside that, the Earl called akuma clones of himself. If he is still Mana in a sense, then… And when the Earl made Moa’s sister into an akuma in the first chapter, the Earl sang “happy birthday”. So this can further add to my suspicions that a Noah’s birthday is their awakening date.

There’s also Joyd’s reaction to Nea’s disgust at his form. If Nea is the one who killed him and they hate each other so, it could have been Joyd’s wish to have a host that would spite him so much and that’s why he seems so pleased when Nea calls his form so revolting and hilarious he wouldn’t be able to keep his food down. 

Tykki has a peculiar resistance to the Noah memories. This was noted by Wisely, and he said it made him the most human-like, a line that is also dropped by Allen quite often. And ever since the exorcism, Joyd has appeared a lot. It’s like he has more control even though he’s the one getting hurt, but this is the same way in which Nea started to awaken from being hurt by Kanda’s Mugen and even Allen’s own exorcist sword. 

Butterflies act as a symbol for both Maria and Tykki, and they signify reincarnation and rebirth; Maria is a reanimated corpse, so this makes sense, but Tykki… the butterflies would make sense for Joyd since it is Joyd whose memories reincarnate. But for it to be Tykki's symbol seems to suggest this he himself is like a reincarnation by having a face that already resembles the Earl back when he was whole.

He (Joyd) went berserk after the failed exorcism and he also appeared here (note the “I’ve” instead of “We” when referring to finding a clue to the Heart): 

However, Tykki was brought back by Road and this seemed to be intentional as she’s always trying to protect him. Tykki would never ever hurt Road, and yet he did when the glass shattered in the scene where his scar hurt. Since reflections reveal the true soul—Noahs—I think this suggests that Joyd does not care about Road’s wellbeing and that she is even scared of him, making Joyd standout even amongst the Noah. Though, you could argue Road is scared of him since she seems to care about Nea and Mana to an extent and Joyd seems to have nothing but pure malice for the two. 

Not quite proof, but—Ven and I have once joked that perhaps Tykki was raised on the Ark. We don’t really have much to back this up, we just found it interesting how Tykki is Portuguese, and how that is near the Mediterranean as the Ark’s architecture is specifically Mediterranean-looking, which Allen even noted. Since Nea and Mana designed it, with it being heavily influenced by Nea, this seems to suggest that the two are also of Mediterranean ethnicity, which is already implied from Tykki looking like them. And yet the Campbell manor seems to be located in England, so Nea and Mana themselves wouldn’t necessarily have memories of such architecture.    

This is another kind of silly thing to point out, but I don’t believe we’ve never seen the old, complete Adam’s full face. Katsura always obstructs it from view, most notably his left (our right) eye. It leaves room for the possibility of him having Tykki’s signature mole, a feature neither Mana or Nea have and something that makes Tykki distinct from the two. I also like how Mana’s long hair makes him resemble past Adam the most and how Tykki’s hair suddenly became long after the failed exorcism. And note that he didn’t cut it because Road forced him not to as she liked it (probably because of Mana and the old Earl). He looks less like Nea with it, too, and I did point out how butterflies–signs of rebirth– are associated with Tykki. It’s interesting to think about.  

In conclusion, I believe that Tykki is due for another breakdown the closer he gets to answers, which he’s actively searching for with the way he wants to uncover why the name Mana keeps appearing. Wisely seems reluctant to tell him, and believes that this will consume him, so perhaps Joyd is just waiting for the moment when he can have his revenge and for Tykki to stop clinging to his humanity and therefore unconsciously resisting him. It makes me think back to Tykki’s line after killing Daisya. “I have to be careful... or I won't be able to go back. I don't want to lose it... because... having a light side... and a dark side... is what makes life interesting.” 

Of course, this was most likely about being careful in society so he’s not suspected and can continue living like a human. But really you can apply this to his current situation. Tykki is by no means a good person, but he can be seen as the lighter side to Tykki Mikk—the host and Joyd himself. And I think this is what Katsura’s kind of getting at by calling him the most human-like of the Noah. He does things at his own whims and doesn’t care about being good. Even his disinterest in the beginning about the history of the Noahs expresses this; to him, he’s good with anything so long as he’s having fun. It’s only when he realizes that everyone around him seems to be walking on eggshells and keeping secrets from him that he starts to want to understand.

This makes Tykki’s entire existence a mystery and almost a red herring even? So while I titled this as a theory relating to his role in the story, I can’t say I understand just yet what Katsura intends to do with him as a character. It kind of feels like maybe Joyd wants to take Nea’s place as the Earl in some parts, or rather that he’s like an imperfect copy. It makes some of the flags being raised really unsettling…  

A little fun fact to end this off on; Tykki's nickname for Allen is "boy/shounen", and one of Nea's supposed name origins (Nearos/Νεαρός) can also be a term of affection/good-humored teasing that translates to "little man/boy". It can also relate to one having a young, boyish appearance, which works for Nea since his true form will always be that of his 17 year old self and I believe “lost boy” (same title for Peter Pan) is one of his nicknames? And since Allen is the destroyer of time, it kind of all fits into place. 

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. II

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 10k

➵ warnings : none really, swearing, mainly fluffy and funny interactions, some angst! :o 

➵ a/n: and i’m back with chapter two! i really wanted to say thank you for the love and support i received on the first part of maybe i do, it was astounding!! i’m so grateful so many people loved the story and asked to be tagged (all at the bottom <3), it made me feel so motivated to write. if you would also like to be tagged please message me. your feedback is always appreciated! 

chapter two : “on my pillow, can’t get me tired” 

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Taehyung didn’t remember sleeping anywhere near you last night. 

He remembered that even though you willingly agreed to share the same bed, he still opted for caution and slept with the most space between you two as possible.

Though when his eyes fluttered open the next morning, eyeballs burning from the light that bled into the suite, the first thing he realized was that he was not on his side of the bed from last night. 

No, he had somehow gravitated towards the center, and as if almost on cue, your slight movement and the sound of your breathing alerted him of your nearby presence. 

Peering down at you, Taehyung caught sight of your sleepy head turned towards him and lying on his arm, his other thrown over your torso with you unsuspectingly nuzzled into his side.

Taehyung’s eyes shot open, acknowledging he had succumbed to his habit of hugging something to sleep during the course of the night and he internally panicked. He began retracting his arms slowly, just about drawing himself from you until alarms rang in his head at the sight of you stirring in your sleep. 

Taehyung took the golden opportunity to sit up in a flash, having to physically shake his head to rid the image of your tranquil, sleeping face from his brain, crushing the thought that it was kind of cute.

He found himself chanting the same denial from last night, he couldn’t be thinking of such complicated things concerning you when he knew the second he’d step foot inside his home, there’d be a mountain of paperwork ready for him; even more on his work desk.

He had to be thinking about his job, not you.  

Even if Taehyung was married now, it wouldn’t lessen the amount of work that plagued his life nor make it any less demanding. If anything, his life would be harder now considering the fact that he had another priority to add to his list, another aspect of his life he had to split his attention between. 

He didn’t necessarily hate the idea, just found himself needing to work harder than he already was. 

Taehyung sighed heavily at the thought and swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He took a moment to look back at you, thinking if he observed you a second time he’d be able to piece together how the hell you two ended up in that position, that close. 

By evidence of the forgotten blanket half-thrown off you, he could see you were the tossing-and-turning type, maybe the only explanation for your proximity considering he was the same. 

He also noticed you slept all curled up, like you were cold and the only warmth you knew was snuggling yourself.

Cute.

There it was again, cute. 

Why does that word even exist? 

Taehyung discarded the notion altogether and stood to his feet, stretching out his stiff muscles. He made for the bathroom eagerly to begin his day, though not without fixing at least some of the blanket back onto you. 

“You don’t have a driver?” 

“Not for everywhere I go. I have two hands, I can drive myself.” Taehyung made it a statement to jazz hands at you, showcasing the perfectly capable limbs he was gifted with.

“That’s.. nice, actually. I always see asshole CEO’s getting other people to drive them around.” You relayed as you trailed behind Taehyung, letting him lead you towards the front of the hotel where dozens of expensive cars lined the curb side.

You had no clue which luxury vehicle belonged to Taehyung because quite frankly, he could probably afford every car your eyes caught sight of. It wasn’t until he approached a certain one and retrieved his keys from the valet that your jaw completely dropped, floored.

“This is your car?” You gawked, the sleek design, crispness of its shape and nearly sparkling gloss completely sweeping you off your feet.

“Yeah, think someone like me can’t get a car like this?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow, gesturing towards himself.   

“It’s just-wow. Mercedes CLS?” You inquired without really looking at him, inspecting the car instead as you admired its every curve. Safe to say, you were beyond in love with it. Even if you were always more of a minimalist and preferred the average product, there was just something gorgeous about luxury cars that appealed to you.

“Yeah, actually it is.” Taehyung looked at you impressed, momentarily reminded of just how different you were compared to any other woman he’s chanced upon. 

How many of them knew car models?

Taehyung was intrigued by the fact before speaking with one of the hotel workers, confirming if they had loaded his car with both your luggage and some wedding sentiments your parents insisted you keep. 

Once receiving affirmation Taehyung made towards your side of the car and pulled the door open. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile as he gestured for you to hop in, drawing you out of your stupor. You thanked him warmly before sliding into your seat. 

He let you scramble in comfortably before shutting the door and walking to his side, positioning himself in and clicking on his seatbelt. He watched as your expression lit up once occupying the car, face beaming with excitement as you touched and drank in at the high-end features the vehicle had to offer. Taehyung found himself smiling before he licked his lips and straightened his face, igniting the engine and beginning the smooth drive. 

It was easy to settle the debate on where you both would be living. Taehyung was an enormously rich CEO who lived in an expensive, massive home while you lived in a measly apartment. You knew it was useless to live separately, even more useless to have him live with you. And so you agreed without protest to pack your things and relocate, begin your move into the house you’d share with him for a lifetime. 

The car ride remained quite silent, you mindlessly bopping your head to whatever mainstream song played on the radio, while Taehyung tapped his fingers against the steering wheel or his lap. 

You found your eyes wandering to his slender fingers wrapped around the wheel every so often, sometimes venturing to the other one he placed against his thigh. You began reprimanding yourself once you realized with all the staring, observing and ogling, you most certainly had a thing for his hands already. 

Fuck. 

They were just so big, bigger than what you’ve seen of the average man and it didn’t help that they looked crafted to perfection. 

There was just something about the veins that decorated them, his palm large in size as his fingers seemed deft turning and working the steering wheel. His little accessories like a ring or two, bracelets and his watch did absolutely nothing to deter your interest either.

It only increased once you realized he looked good driving, really good. You knew men had this common attractiveness to them when they drove, watching them all focused and effortlessly working the car somehow sexy; but watching Taehyung drive was another experience entirely. 

He looked insanely hot, and you felt like throwing yourself out your window for even thinking such a thing. It was another case of you ogling him without realizing until his deep voice suddenly fished you out of your thoughts, questioning. “Did you like the wedding?” 

“Huh?” 

“The wedding, did you like it?” Taehyung repeated, glancing at you. 

“Does it really matter if I did?” You asked, this one phrase seeming to perfectly sum up the misfortune of your life, provoking an ironic laugh even. 

“I think it does. A bride should always enjoy her wedding.” 

“Well, I didn’t.” You deadpanned, your expression turning frustrated having to remember that one of, if not the most special night of your life had just been robbed of you, thrown to the wolves while you were only left to accept the sad fact. 

“C’mon, you didn’t enjoy a single thing?” Taehyung didn’t mean to flash back to the kiss you two shared, though found himself doing exactly so. 

You didn’t enjoy that? he questioned in his head. 

“Not really, I just imagined having more choice in the wedding.” You answered honestly, trying not to sulk so much. “It’s not you, I just... thought I’d be able to decide things at my own wedding. I’m grateful your parents did so much, but I didn’t really get to choose anything.” You grew more solemn as your gaze fixated on nothing, watching the world pass you by through the car window. 

“My favourite flowers weren’t even there.” You said only despondently to yourself, shoulders drooping, though Taehyung didn’t miss it. 

“You don’t like roses?”

Your eyes flashed towards him with furrowed eyebrows, surprised he heard your comment. You straightened up before shrugging back a response. “I like peonies.” 

Taehyung looked at your side profile as you turned away, finding the conversation turning more sorrowful than he liked. He allowed some silence to linger as you leaned your chin against your palm, boringly watching the bustling streets.  

He decided to change the subject.

“So you don’t think I’m an asshole, huh?” 

“What?”

“You said you always see ‘asshole CEO’s’ getting people to drive them around. But I don’t, so I’m not an asshole to you?” Taehyung halved his attention between you and the road, glancing in your direction with one hand working the steering wheel.

You thought the question over, “No, you’re not an asshole.” You said simply, distracted by the thoughts that previously occupied your mind. 

“I see.” Taehyung pursed his lips. Another beat of silence passed through the downcast air before Taehyung perked up again.

“Is it just the driving? Or do you have other criteria?” Taehyung asked inquisitively, leaning back into his seat as he observed you. 

You could detect from the corner of your eyes the way his stance drew attention to his legs, thighs broad as he sat. “I guess there is.” 

“Like what?”

You didn’t really know why Taehyung was so curious. You thought it was common knowledge what the stereotypical asshole CEO was like; they were nearly all jerks with horrible one-percenter mentalities and treated people like gravel.  

You scoffed a bit. “They’re usually so full of themselves. They act like they own the place all the time, which makes sense at their own companies but not everywhere else. It’s like the position gets to their heads. Even the way they talk is condescending, belittling, or straight up rude to anyone not on their level. It wouldn’t kill to be nice.” You revealed almost too eagerly, avoiding eye contact with Taehyung as you viewed the traffic on the road ahead, remembering he was a CEO himself. 

Long story short, you’ve had your fair share of experiences meeting them as you grew up during the beginnings of your father’s company. They were quick to skew your opinion ever since you watched the way they treated your father all due to having a start-up, for simply being small in name or reputation. They acted like he was less than, some even daring to behave as though his company would simply never make it. 

It always boiled your blood, left an extremely distasteful image of CEOs and the business world in your head. 

And you were certain it all sucked after that. 

“Understandable.” Taehyung nodded agreeably. “But you think I don’t fit any of that?” He rested a hand against his thigh, sitting laxed as he spread his legs apart further. This time it was definitely hard to miss the way they appeared, all laid out and long as your eyes drank him in, following up his thighs all the way to his-

“You don’t. I thought maybe since you’re super successful you’d be full of yourself. But you’re not, really.” You snapped yourself out of whatever the hell you were doing, trying to refocus on the conversation.

“Ah, seems like a stepping stone.” 

“Stepping stone? Towards what?”

“Towards you not hating me.” His voice came out with a more solemn timbre than you expected, his jaw tightening for a mere second. 

Taehyung only thought such a thing because even if he decided you didn’t harbour negative feelings towards him, there was no way of him determining whether that was true or not without your real input. 

“I don’t hate you, Taehyung. I don’t.. think I can.” You claimed with poignancy, his statement causing you to reflect on your own feelings about him. 

You don’t hate Taehyung, you couldn’t because he did absolutely nothing wrong in this situation. He was dragged in just like you were. You only despised the unfairness of the arrangement, not him. 

There wasn’t much to hate about him.  

“So you’re saying you like me then, aren’t you?” Taehyung suddenly teased light-heartedly, all smug as his amused eyes flickered to you. 

“Shut up, I never said that.” You turned away, scandalized by his remark. 

“I’m kidding. But, why do you think you can’t hate me? I pretty much.. ruined your life.” Taehyung internally felt his chest tighten at the words, remembering the exact thoughts from where he stood no less than 24 hours ago, seconds from lawfully marrying you. 

“And I didn’t ruin yours?” This time you turned your gaze towards Taehyung, meaningfully. Your eyes instinctively communicated your emotions as they locked with his for a moment, Taehyung all attentive. 

“I took away from you just as much you took away from me. We both ruined each other’s lives, there’s no use in blaming each other. That’s why I can’t hate you.” You finalized, crossing your arms and opting to watch the passing buildings through your window again. 

Taehyung absorbed your sudden confession with reason, realizing that in a sense, you two were partners in this unfortunate case. Even if your matrimony constituted a forced partnership neither of you liked, there seemed to be a natural comradery in having to deal with the aftermath of that forced partnership. 

Trying to accept it. 

“I don’t think I can hate you, either.” Taehyung admitted, ending the more miserable part of the conversation as you fell silent. You thought he was done until he decided to bother you again. 

“I think you’re still saying you like me, though.” 

You turned to him half-appalled before pointing towards the road, eyes narrowed. “Just drive us home, will you?” 

Taehyung laughed at the moment and pressed down on the accelerator, internally grinning at the fact you never said no to his statement. 

“This is your house?” You found yourself gawking again at something that belonged to Taehyung, stepping inside a luxury home you’ve only ever dreamed of living in. Sure, you lived with your parents until you were 18, though your father was still starting out with his company for most of those years, not exactly owning anything too luxurious until after you permanently moved out.

So as you stood trying to prop your heels off yourself, your jaw dropped at the sheer elegance and high-status look to the interior of Taehyung’s home. You had already done enough gawking at the exterior, but being inside and processing the fact that you were now to inhabit this home for the rest of your life sent another wave of shock. 

You immediately observed Taehyung was the type who decorated his home with only the finest, his taste easily identifiable. Aesthetic, lavish, charming. He seemed like a man of utter simplicity though his home said otherwise, showcasing an artistic, exquisite feel you never really expected from him. 

“When will you stop saying that?” He titled his head and smiled through a laugh, removing his shoes and slipping into his indoor slippers. 

“Right, sorry.” You were still struggling for normalcy, somehow forgetting almost every hour Taehyung’s wealth and only registering it once you saw something that indicated it. 

Taehyung sauntered inside and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of his abode. He enjoyed nothing more than being home, in the comfort of his own space. Especially for someone who worked so busily, he found pleasure in doing the bare minimum at home. Relishing in the feeling right now, he pressed his lips together in a smile before glancing back at your struggling figure, catching sight of your size. 

His eyebrows shot up to the sky. “Woah, you’re short.” 

“Huh?” 

“I think I’ve only ever seen you in heels.” Taehyung informed. “Now that you’re not wearing them you’re a lot shorter than I thought. You’re tiny.” He pointed out as he eyed you from head to toe, processing the amount of height you lost simply from removing your shoes. 

“I mean, that’s kind of what heels do, you know, they add height.” You deadpanned, stating the obvious for him. 

“Sorry, it’s just..” Kind of cute, he thought, though fought for another response. “I could probably throw you.” 

Nice save. 

“Excuse me? It’s not my fault you’re so tall.” You scowled at him. “Besides, you’re all height and no muscle, you probably can’t even carry me.” 

“Wanna see me try?” Taehyung was already coming towards you with his arms held out and you sputtered immediately, “No, no, no.” you held your hands up defensively. “Let’s just start the house tour, yeah?” you offered a smile for compromise. 

“That’s what I thought.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes coyly and turned on his heel, signaling you to follow him. 

What you realized strolling through the home as Taehyung discussed its details was that it emphatically represented him like an open book. Even if Taehyung was predominantly unreadable and seemed to always hide a mystery behind his eyes, you could see nearly all of him reflected in his home. 

You often found valuable trinkets or sentiments scattered around the house. It seemed like he cherished a lot of things in his life, namely memories or people. It would also be hard to miss the exquisite selection of paintings and embellishments he draped the walls with, all harbouring their own charm and adding to the overall artistic feel of his home. 

There were famous works consisting of Vincent Van Gogh all the way to local Korean artists you’ve never heard of, though admired their work. 

It seemed as though he selected the paintings himself. 

Another large aspect you couldn’t miss were the many photos he kept, calling to question whether they were of his own work. 

“Did you take these?” You approached a shelf in one of his grand hallways on the second floor, hand brushing the wooden frame of a captured photo; six men including Taehyung himself posing comfortably, like they were extremely close, backdrop reflecting what seemed to be a trip.  

“I took all of them.” He stated casually, hands tucked into his pockets as he eyed the shelf along with you. 

“All?” 

He simply nodded and didn’t elaborate further as he watched you admire the photos, yourself impressed by his adeptness for photography. 

“You’re really good.” You complimented absentmindedly, enjoying the other photos of not only people but scenery, empty streets, candid shots from what looked to be his own little adventures. 

“Thanks.” Was all Taehyung could manage, trying to mask the sheer gratitude he felt hearing the first ever person to admire his work; something that wasn’t related to being a CEO or a businessman. 

He also felt slightly embarrassed you’d seen a small part of him he usually hid.

Taehyung continued walking down the hallway until he reached the end, revealing what you could tell was the largest room in the house. You were thrown off by just how unnecessarily large it was. It seriously reminded you of an extravagant hotel suite, more like the grandest one among them. 

“This is our room.” Taehyung introduced, gesturing towards its interior. 

“Our?” 

Taehyung nodded “I should’ve told you earlier but I wanted us to sleep in the same room. If we slept apart our marriage wouldn’t look convincing to my two housekeepers. I trust them but I don’t want any information about us getting out to the public, not over my dead body.” Taehyung stated in earnest as he relayed the information, wandering further into the room. 

“You really care that much about publicity?” you genuinely questioned. 

Taehyung scoffed. “Not me, I couldn’t care less about what people think.” He denied instantly, almost laughably. “It’s my father. He hates bad press, especially concerning our family or the company.” 

“I thought bad press is still press, so it’s good.” You suggested as you followed him further into the room, admiring that though large, his room held a sense of comfort to it. Quite frankly, all of his home felt rather welcoming and cozy, surprising of a CEO who ran such a monstrously successful company.

“My father doesn’t think so. Kim Enterprises has always been generational, each of our CEO positions strictly kept within the family. Our name is our brand and pride, it alone accounts for at least half of our success. We’re extremely well-known for our high status, it’s just plain fact in the upper social circles of Korea. We can’t afford to taint our name with petty things like bad press or corruption, our reputation is too valuable.” Taehyung stated this all nonchalantly as he adjusted his suit jacket in his mirror, like it was something he’s grown accustomed to and has known all his life. 

You found your opinion impeding his words.  

“So you can never just, escape this life? As long as you’re a Kim you’re bound to this company?” You found the concept wildly restrictive, clearly shackling down any person that would run the business and you felt a disagreeing shiver shoot through your spine. 

“Of course, why would you want anything else?” Taehyung tiled his head to the side, eyeing you in genuine questioning and your entire being was trying to bite back the desire to correct him, tell him there’s so much more to life than just some company your family owns. Though you opted for changing the subject instead, unwilling to step on his toes and dictate his life when you knew next to nothing about it. 

It wasn’t your place. 

“Woah, you have a balcony?!” You exclaimed with a simper, eyes flickering towards the curtains that revealed two ajar French doors leading to an open space.

You made towards it excitedly and stopped just in the middle of the platform, enjoying the breeze of the fresh air.

“It’s my favourite part of the house.” You didn’t even realize Taehyung followed you until his towering figure stood directly behind you, feeling his proximity permeate through your body. 

You swallowed. 

“Why don’t you look at the view?” Taehyung cocked his head towards the railing of the balcony, though you didn’t move a step. 

You weren’t about to tell Taehyung you’re terribly afraid of heights.

“I-I can see from here. Wow, looks beautiful.” You perked up superficially, trying to throw him off and changing the subject again. “By the way, what’s our closet situation gonna look like?” 

“Ah, let me show you.” Taehyung strided back into the room towards the sliding double doors you spotted earlier. He almost theatrically glided both dark wooden panels open and your jaw dropped for the 47th time today. 

You were welcomed by a ridiculously large walk-in closet, enough to be renovated into its own bedroom. You simply couldn’t normalize its size, especially after registering every suit, tie, watch or accessory Taehyung stored in the gracious space. 

You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much money lied in here. 

“Oh my God.” Was all you could manage, meandering in sparingly as you viewed each and every expensive piece he owned in the room, no doubt of the highest quality designers, finest of men’s fashion. 

“You don’t have to worry about unpacking and moving in here, the housekeepers will do that for you.” Taehyung watched as you looked upon in awe, finding the way your eyes sparkled with emotion very similar to that of Bambi’s.  

“How will I fit-”

“I specifically made space for you, there’s enough.” Taehyung stated, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He’d resolved a while ago he really would try to take this marriage seriously, victoriously achieve the work-life balance his father kept preaching. 

He saw giving up his closet space as the first step. 

It was indeed so because Taehyung thoroughly enjoyed fashion. He genuinely adored every suit, accessory and outfit in his collection, though if he wanted to reach this new goal of balance, successfully add you to his list of priorities, then he had to be willing to cut down. 

Even if that meant reallocating a third of his exorbitant wardrobe just for you, he’d try not to mind. 

“Are you sure? I could just use another room’s-” 

“I want to.” Taehyung finalized as his eyes turned unreadable from across the room, locking his gaze with yours and you were only left to look back impressed, his generosity unforeseen. 

“Thank you.” You voiced a little weak, still shy by the suffocating nature of his stare. 

“Don’t mention it.” He offered plainly, propping himself off the wall. He looked off to the side eyeing the empty pockets of space he left for you, until your voice called out to him.  

“Taehyung.”

“Hm?” He snapped his vision back to you. 

You wanted to ask him something, more so a favour and you were unsure how to word the request. “Um.. I didn’t want to ask so openly, but..” You found yourself beating around the bush, timid of what his response would be. 

“Go on.” 

“Um, so it seemed like there were a lot of empty rooms in this house, and I was just wondering if I could maybe.. transform one of them into an art studio for myself?” You winced at your own request. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just I had one at my old place and it really grew on me. I would get most of my work done in that room and gained a lot of inspiration from it. I have a lot of art supplies and designed often in that studio, so I need a home for all my supplies and it would suck getting rid of it all. I’m sorry it means I would have to steal one of your rooms in the house, if you don’t want me to then-” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but break out into a small grin as he watched you ramble on, shyly fidget with your fingers, so apprehensive of asking him for something and it reminded him why he was so eager to provide you with anything you wanted. 

You spent too long trying to do everything on your own, achieve everything on your own, relying solely on yourself. Taehyung could see this all as plain as day, quite enjoying of how he’s never really met someone like you, and wanted you to know you didn’t always have to be so independent.  

Especially with him. 

“Y/N.” He called out to you with the same honey-coloured tone from last night, stopping you. Your eyes flickered to his, awaiting his next sentence and Taehyung already found himself having a thing for your doe-eyes. 

Fuck. 

“Of course you can have a room. You can have anything in this house. It’s yours.” Taehyung stated with a degree of assurance, his eyes locking with yours in earnest. 

You both shared a look as your lips curved into a gracious smile, biting your lip to contain it. His stare wasn’t so much intimidating as it was merely.. calm. Gazing at you for the sole purpose of gazing, and you found some heat rushing to your face under his scrutiny. 

Taehyung seemed to realize he was staring and immediately cleared his throat, turning a little nervous as he began another conversation. “So um, I’m sorry to say this,” he began with unease, almost apprehensive and you didn’t know what he was so sorry about. “But I have work today.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Taehyung internally winced at your reaction, hands finding his pockets. “I took some time off for the wedding, so now I have twice the amount of work left behind. I need to complete it.” He informed straightforwardly. 

“Our wedding was just yesterday, though, aren’t you tired?” You were only taken aback because you were slightly concerned for his wellbeing, wasn’t he tired from yesterday? You recalled him knocking out almost immediately upon hitting the pillow of your hotel bed last night, snoozing away. 

“Maybe, but I can’t afford to rest. I’ll only have more to complete if I do, so I won’t be spending anymore time with you today.” Taehyung relayed the information, readying himself for the even greater disappointing news he’d be passing on. 

“Actually, we won’t be able to go on our honeymoon, either.” Taehyung thought it was best to slip in all the bad news, growing more and more unrelaxed as he was unsure of how you’d react. 

Though what you said next had him nearly floored.

“Honeymoon? Taehyung, that’s the least of my concerns, you should at least rest a day before getting back to work. That’s not really healthy.” You chastised him as lightly as possible, still afraid to be stepping on his toes when you didn’t know his life. 

Taehyung was certain you’d hate having been stripped of a beautiful vacation where you could’ve relaxed in the sun and tropics of Cancun. Your father had mentioned to him you’ve always longed to visit the breath-taking city in Mexico, its clear waters and tropical air as a means to truly get away from your stifling life. 

So when he found you disregarding the trip altogether and instead focusing on him, more precisely his health, he was left damn well speechless. 

There you were again paying attention to the littlest things about him he didn’t care much for; he still had that bandage you offered him a month ago tucked into one of his pockets, not wanting to use the adhesive just yet. 

“I’ll be fine. I’m just sorry we can’t go on the vacation because of me, it would’ve been nice, you know?” Taehyung apologized, feeling genuinely guilty for having ruined the honeymoon. Even if you two weren’t going to travel as some lovey-dovey couple, you both simply could’ve enjoyed the time off.

“It’s okay, just, at least work from home today. Heading to the office would be too much.” You suggested for the sake of the fatigue you could discern on him. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna be home for the next few days since everyone thinks we’ll be on our honeymoon.” 

“Oh. That’s.. good.” You nodded faintly, half at the idea you two were even faking your honeymoon and half at the blasphemous energy he had to work after yesterday. 

The sleep from last night was nearly not enough to recharge from the antics of the wedding, having drained your batteries for the next few days. You were certain his were drained too; he was half the damn couple. 

“I should get going. I’ll send Mrs. Choi and Seo up with your things. They’re probably finished with lunch too, you should eat.” Taehyung advised as he stepped out of the walk-in closet, running a hand through his gorgeous hair and you couldn’t help but ogle at the sexy way his strands fell back on him. 

“Okay.” You voiced as you followed him out, watching him near the room’s door and just about to vacate the premise before you spoke up. “Taehyung.” 

He stopped in his tracks, peering back at you. “Yes?” 

“You should eat something, too.”

Taehyung half-smiled at you with a nod “Sure”, before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone. 

And you couldn’t help but kind of like the way he smiles. 

It was well into the evening now, bordering dinner time as you helped the last of your clothes into Taehyung’s closet, refusing to let the older housekeepers do all the work by themselves considering it was your own luggage. 

You also tried to occupy Taehyung’s room as scarcely as you could with your belongings, feeling odd about suddenly moving in with all your might and changing things around. It just didn’t feel appropriate, like you were invading his space and so you opted for scattering only your necessary items.

“That should be the last of it, Mrs. Choi.” You retrieved your last piece of clothing from the rather soft-spoken housekeeper, tucking the blazer away among the rest. You were satisfied to see not only your wardrobe neatly organized now, but fit just about right with Taehyung’s things. 

He was right about space, there was enough.

“Mrs. Kim, please rest. You didn't have to move a muscle at all for us.” Mrs. Choi remarked, genuinely concerned for you. 

“Yes, please, Mrs. Kim. We can finish up with the little things. I’ve just finished preparing dinner downstairs, you should eat.” Mrs. Seo chimed in as she entered the walk-in closet, gesturing towards the door. 

“Are you sure? I can-”

“Mrs. Kim, you’re very kind for offering your help, we’re very grateful you’ve done so. Though we are Mr. Kim’s housekeepers, we are meant to care for his home and his lovely wife. You need not worry about helping us.” Mrs. Choi stated with an earnest tone, speaking respectfully as she addressed you. 

You were going to protest again before you considered her words, registering that if you indeed helped them, it would technically negate the entire purpose of their work. 

You bit back your reply as a result, crafting a new one. 

“I see, I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo, Mrs. Choi. I’m just.. very used to doing things on my own,” you looked towards the ground. “I apologize.” You almost dipped for a bow until Mrs. Choi rapidly cautioned you, scrambling towards your figure. 

“Oh dear, Mrs. Kim! You do not need to bow to us, you’re Mr. Kim’s wife, you are the one who is bowed to.” 

“Yes, you do not need to apologize either, we appreciate your help, it was very sweet of you.” Mrs. Seo added with a warm smile, bowing to you instead. “Please go for dinner downstairs, I’ve also informed Mr. Kim for dinner, though I’m unsure if he has made his way down yet.” She added on, urging you towards the room's exit and you recognized it was probably better to listen to her. 

Even if all this high-class, status stuff had yet to sink in or make sense to you after being away for so long, you understood there was an eventual tolerance you had to build for it. Just as Mrs. Choi said, you’re Kim Taehyung’s wife now, and that came with a hell lot of status you hadn’t even scratched the surface of yet.

You could already tell it was going to be a pain in the ass. 

“I suppose I should. I’ll get going, then.” You smiled graciously at both women, appreciative of their kindness and began vacating the closet. You just about pulled the room door open before Mrs. Seo suddenly came to you.

“Oh! Mrs. Kim,” she halted you. “I was informed by Mr. Kim to provide this to you. He would have done so himself though he’s quite busy at the moment.” Mrs. Seo extended her hand and presented a pristine looking card, black and incredibly sleek in design. Your eyebrows furrowed until you noticed the telltale symbols, almost ominously minimal branding indicating a rare card only those with some of the highest networths in Korea could own. 

Your eyes widened in horror. 

The Black Card. 

“P-pardon?” You needed her to reiterate, there was no way Kim Taehyung was giving you a black card, the same card that was limitless on credit and only exclusively owned by the affluent one-percenters of society. 

“He’s informed me this belongs to you now, and that you’re to keep it in your possession.” Mrs. Seo elaborated, smiling through the mental whiplash you were currently experiencing.  

“Belongs to.. me? This is mine?” You were still having trouble processing, why would Taehyung be gifting you this? Who’s account was it even attached to? Was it yours and he’s decided to graciously pay all the expensive fees, or worse, was it joined with his own account? 

Don’t tell me it’s joined with his account.  

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. It’s yours.” Mrs. Seo held it out more outwardly, nudging it in your direction. 

Your mouth fell agape for another second before you mentally collected yourself, quickly grabbing the card and thanking her as you made your exit, marching through the house for Taehyung’s unbelievable ass. 

Taehyung could not be providing you with this card. It was irrational, simply had to have been a decision he made with at least two bottles of soju in him, right? You didn’t care what his reasoning would be, you were denying and returning this. There was no way in hell you’d accept this card, especially if he linked his own personal account to it. 

You tried loosely recalling where Taehyung mentioned his study, logically assuming he was working there. You inspected majority of the second floor, working your way through the halls until you finally caught sight of the familiar wooden doors with glass panels, slightly ajar, light bleeding through.

You made for the room quickly and stormed in without a care, attempting to steady your breathing from all the rushing around. You caught Taehyung completely off guard, having shredded his suit jacket to instead sport the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt, adorning black-rimmed, designer glasses. 

He looked 100x hotter than he should’ve. 

Taehyung suddenly propped up from the leaned-back position he’d assumed on his chair, expression caught by surprise. “Y/N?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing. 

You held up the card and addressed him immediately. “Taehyung, what’s this? Why are you giving this to me?” You huffed, looking at him incredulously. 

“The card? For you to use..?” Taehyung responded cooperatively, confused as to why you seemed so frazzled. 

“But why, Taehyung? This is a black card, the annual fees on this are insane and I can’t pay-” 

“You’re not paying for them, I am.” Taehyung cut in, shutting the binder he was holding and placing it on his desk. 

“What? No, no way. If it’s my account then I should be the one-”

“It’s not your account, either, it’s mine.” Taehyung brought his elbows to his desk, hands clasped together in front of his lips. It was now he gave you that same intimidating stare he did back when you first met him, calculative and devoid of expression. 

It seemed he did this when he got serious. 

“Your account? But-Taehyung, this is your money, I can’t just have it. Please, take this back.” You stepped towards his desk to return the card eagerly, but Taehyung’s firm tone stopped you. 

“No, it’s yours. I gave it to you to keep.” His words held this underlying sense of authority, scratch that, dominance when he spoke seriously, resolute. You could instantly tell he possessed a natural sense of alpha male characteristics, enough that even though he wasn’t being harsh or looming, his words and the tone he coated them with held more power than you could manifest. 

You almost cowered, but remained adamant on returning the card. It was worse with the card attached to his account, you couldn’t just keep Taehyung’s money like it was your own, it simply wasn’t. Your money sat ordinarily in a separate account on a separate card, which you were happy enough to use. You weren’t going to mooch off of him, it went against every principle that made up your very being. 

“This is your money, Taehyung. I have no right to use it.” 

“You’re my wife. You have every right in the world to use it.” Taehyung countered with no emotion, or at least any you could discern, uncertain what was running through his mind with only his eyes as a guide towards the answer. 

And you knew his eyes didn’t tell. 

“Taehyung, this doesn’t feel right to me. This isn’t my money and I can’t use it.” You emphasized more strongly, drawing closer to his desk though halting your actions once he spoke again. 

“My money is your money, you can always use it.” You knew he was relaxed, appearing practically unbothered as he leaned onto his desk and eyed you. Though with the intense look in his eyes, his aura screaming for anyone within the vicinity to submit to him, he could easily seem frustrated with the situation, namely you. 

And it made you want to crawl into a hole.

“No, it isn’t. I’ve already intruded your home, taken your closet, your room and even an extra one just for myself. I will not take your money either. Please, take this back.” You held out the card more prominently, desperate to have him understand you.

Taehyung wasn’t necessarily frustrated by you, no, he was slightly pissed you kept referring to everything as just his and not yours, that he was the only one considering you two as a married couple now while you still viewed each other separately.

Did you not see him as your husband yet?

He also disliked the fact that you seemed scared of him, or unable to trust him like last night. He could see you fighting back the urge to cower away, genuinely upsetting him you still held a degree of fear and unsureness in your eyes. 

Why are you so afraid of me? 

“Y/N, everything isn’t just mine anymore, it’s yours, too. We’re a married couple, husband and wife. What’s mine is yours.” Taehyung tried to reason, loosening himself up more to seem less intimidating, more approachable.

“But money, Taehyung-it’s different. I didn’t even want to take my own father’s money, there’s no way I’ll take yours, please.” Pleading leaked into your tone as you lips started doing that thing where they just about pout, emphasizing their plushiness and Taehyung couldn’t help but notice it again. 

He started growing frustrated as he removed his glasses, placing them on his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. It seemed like he was digesting the situation, searching for the best approach.

“Y/N, look. I know the kind of situation you had with your father, but I’m not him. Didn’t you hear what Mrs. Choi and Seo addressed you as?” 

You thought it over, unknowing of where he was taking this. “They.. called me Mrs. Kim.”

“Exactly. Even my last name is yours, everything I have is yours. I’m your husband, I’m always going to provide you with things from now on. That card is just one of many.” Taehyung offered his best explanation, making sure his tone wasn’t as serious to sidetrack any fear you still had.

“I understand. But this is a black card, Taehyung, and it’s your hard-earned money, not mine. It feels wrong even just having it.” You couldn’t fight your inner turmoil, you genuinely believed this to be wrong. After spending almost a decade trying to work for yourself, pay for yourself, seldom seeking the help of another, this just left a disagreeing feeling to churn in your stomach.

Taehyung sighed heavily before pushing his chair back, rising from his seat. He made his way over to you where you grew unintentionally defensive, retracting from him slightly as he neared you. He noticed it and pursed his lips, reaching out for your upper arms and taking them warmly, tenderly, waiting for your eyes to meet his before he spoke to you.

“Y/N, do you remember what I said before I kissed you yesterday?”

Your eyes widened having been reminded of the intimate moment, nodding at him innocently. Taehyung witnessed you trying to avoid eye contact and found himself softening. 

“I didn’t say that without reason. I meant it when I said I would take care of you. Your father is a different story, if you don’t want to use his money, I respect that. But I’m your husband, and I want to be a good one. I want to give you things.. do things for you simply because I want to.” Taehyung reasoned, gripping you lightly. “I want you to use my money, you’re allowed to use it.” He tried voicing with sincerity, earnestly, hoping he could change your mind.

He saw you still hesitating to accept the offer, however, deciding on a compromise.

“Look, you don’t have to use it all the time. You can still use your own card, but you can use mine here and there. Seriously, Y/N, using it won’t even make a dent on me. I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, use it at your discretion.” Taehyung could practically see your gears shifting, searching for your eyes as he wished you’d understand him. 

He saw this as a second step towards work-life balance, only feeling the responsibility and genuine desire to be the good husband in spite of the unfortunate nature of your marriage. He didn’t want any doubt concerning his ability to be a good husband, either.

After all, when Taehyung did something, he always did the best he possibly could.

“Okay, I guess you’re right. But I do have my own money, and I’ll be using that 100x more often than yours.” You relaxed and oddly let him hold you, looking down at the black card that rested in your hand and clutching it to your palm.

Taehyung realized he was still holding you and let go, retiring to fluff his hair instead. You caught a glimpse of his bicep underneath his rolled up sleeve as he did so, and you truly hated you chose a time like this to find him stunningly attractive.

“You should come downstairs, Mrs. Seo prepared dinner.” You ignored your thoughts.

“You go first, I’ll be down in a second.”

You nodded agreeably and turned away, leaving his study. You took a second look at the card in your hand, then glanced around the house as you strolled through it, trying to embed what Taehyung said into the crevices of your resistant thinking.

Everything I have is yours, you reiterated, registering that Taehyung had in fact grown accustomed to the idea of you two as a couple already. He’s accepted it, embraced it, even enforced it now with his earlier declarations and this black card. You automatically felt behind, like you were the tortoise in the race and needed to pick up your pace.

If Taehyung had already come to terms with your marriage, it was only a matter of time before you did as well. Marriage is a two-way street, and if you wanted to make this easier on both yourself and Taehyung, you would compromise with him, accept the true sense of partnership that entailed your status as husband and wife.

Thus was the exact mantra that played in your head as you fiddled with the card, remembering the way his big hands held you.

Warm.

It was night. 

You could say it was like any other ordinary night, though that would be a gargantuan lie. 

This night was the first time Taehyung and yourself were going to sleep in the same bed.

In your own home. 

The hotel suite left you both with your own space and privacy since it was a random, public room with no personality or attachment to it whatsoever, making it easier and comfortable to sleep with him.

So when you emerged from your walk-in closet in a thin camisole, loose pajama shorts and without a bra, you were cursing yourself. God damn you for needing to sleep in minimal clothing for comfort. You’d slept in a loose t-shirt and bottoms at the suite last night since it was a public room, and long story short, it left you tossing and turning more than you liked. 

You had no clue prior to arriving here that you’d be sharing a room with Taehyung. You’d expected to sleep in a different one, in the privacy of your own room where you could prance around as you wished and as a result packed your usual sleepwear. 

But now that you were left having to slumber with Taehyung, clothes on the more revealing side, there was no turning back. 

And what there was truly no turning back from, was when you opened the closet door and your eyes landed on Taehyung’s shirtless, wet self drying his hair after a shower. 

You immediately malfunctioned.

Your eyes fell to his bare back, ruffling his wet hair as his plaid pajama pants hung loosely at his hips. You immediately exclaimed and clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to shut yourself up. 

You did not expect at all for Taehyung to have such honey-coloured skin. It was like it naturally glowed, a healthy tone that made him appear all the more delectable. It certainly didn’t help that his shoulders were broader than you first observed, sincerely an other-worldly experience when he wasn’t wearing clothes. 

You also got an all-access view of his trap muscles, adding to the width of his shoulders overall and when Taehyung turned around to the sound of the closet door opening, gaze locking with yours, you could confirm his neck, chest and collarbones were indeed crafted to perfection.

Taehyung’s eyes widened momentarily drinking you in, not expecting your light sleepwear when just last night he witnessed you in a full pajama set. Not to mention, and he hated that he could tell, but you weren't wearing a bra. 

And the camisole did nothing to hide that. 

Taehyung straightened himself up realizing you two were practically gawking at each other, resting the towel around his neck as he cleared his throat. “That’s what you sleep in?” 

“That’s what you sleep in?” You retorted, arms over your chest. 

“Guys usually sleep shirtless, this is normal.” Taehyung gestured towards his own body and you had half a mind to floor yourself. It’s like Taehyung knew but also didn’t know he was hot, knew the effect he had on people though never grew cocky or proud enough to purposefully parade it around. 

And it frustrated you even more; he was fairly humble about being a sexy Greek God. 

“Girls sleep like this too, this is normal.” You copied him, looking off to the side. 

“I was kidding, I only sleep shirtless sometimes. Just get in bed.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes as he gestured towards the sheets, returning to his palace of a bathroom to toss his towel in the hamper and pull a t-shirt over his head. 

You wanted to move, feet just about ready to carry you but you never abandoned your spot. Instead, you pressed your lips into a thin line contemplating that sharing a bed with Taehyung, in clothes like this and in such proximity, all held a degree of intimacy you didn’t know you two shared yet. 

It’s only been a day. 

So when Taehyung returned to your unmoving figure, arms holding your chest and avoiding eye contact with him, he was quick to get the message. 

“Um.. if you really don’t want to sleep here, I can give you another room.” Taehyung offered, figuring himself this may be too soon. 

“No, it’s okay, that’d be kind of a hassle.” You waved him off. “Besides, your bed looks comfy.”

You were honestly trying to live up to your acceptance that Taehyung was the man you’d spend your life with now, so you’d better start getting use to him. You’d sleep next to him for numerous nights, spend endless days together and share a multitude of things; this would simply just be a first of many first times. 

So you paddled over to the bed and removed the covers to snuggle yourself in, the bed’s coolness sending a shiver through you before you hugged the blanket to yourself. Taehyung stood with a smile before crawling in himself, adjusting the covers to his liking. 

He felt at peace in a matter of seconds, the feeling of his own bed lulling him into a state of slumber already. He reached his arm out to shut off the lamp on his bedside table, leaving the room pitch dark and only his digital clock and balcony as a light source. 

You began to cower a bit in the darkness, thankful for the sheer curtains that allowed the moonlight to spill into the room. 

You felt another shiver run through your body when you shifted, realizing you were cold even under the sheets. You tried warming up on your own by shimmying the blanket around more comfortably, but it didn't do much. 

You were left lying on the bed trying to think warm thoughts, unintentionally breathing in the constant scent of Taehyung from his bed; his cologne, his aftershave, his body wash all filling your nostrils.

It was intoxicating, absolutely distracting and sleep began to slip your mind. It didn’t help that you were still cold too, moving around and turning onto your side where you now faced Taehyung. 

He seemed to have already dozed off, face tranquil as he slept soundlessly on his back. You couldn't help but admire his side-profile, the sparse moonlight illuminating his features. It was hard to not stretch your hand out and nearly run a touch along his cheek, like he was a rare work of art that naturally called for admiration.

You realized turning towards him that he radiated a wave of warmth from his body, remembering boys were pretty much furnaces while girls usually froze.

How wonderful it is to be a woman. 

You desired some of that heat and shuffled just a little closer to Taehyung, nearing the center of the bed. You discerned he was indeed warm and maneuvered slightly closer, just about stopping at the center of the bed. You fought back the urge to shimmy any closer, leaving a mindful gap between you two. 

You were seconds from catching a peace of mind until Taehyung unexpectedly spoke in the silence of the night, startling you. 

“You can come closer, I don’t bite.” The smirk in his voice was obvious, making you scrunch your nose and snap back at him. 

“Shut up, I’m not getting closer to you.” 

“You should, I’m really warm, and I can tell you’re cold.” There he was again teasing, his tone coy as he kept his eyes shut, unbothered. 

“Over my dead body.” You mocked him from earlier, turning away from him abruptly and pulling the covers over your head. 

Coffee was probably your favourite thing life had to offer. One of the couple things you’d fight someone over; coffee and your independence, if you wanted to be specific. 

So it made you genuinely happy Taehyung had such a wide selection of coffee to choose from, ranging from all kinds of beans to instant coffee, cappuccinos, lattes, mochas, you name it. It took no time for you to craft a cup to your liking, shuffle into a seat on the island and begin picking at the breakfast the housekeepers had whipped up earlier this morning. 

You’d woken up early today keeping in mind the day you had planned. You decided this to be another move-in day as part of your studio setup project you’ve entertained for the last week. The granted time off due to your odd honeymoon farce with Taehyung proved to actually come in handy, thankfully. 

It had been another peaceful morning for you, having woken up with sunlight gracing the walls, certain you could hear birds chirping as if you were in a Disney film and little mice would come out to start sewing the gown you’d wear as a princess. 

It had been a peaceful morning indeed, but when you stretched out to loosen your stiff muscles, the chaos that met you was anything but peaceful. Even if it’s occurred at least 5 times now, you kept forgetting that you shared a bed with someone else now, and that said someone had somehow always founds a way to gravitate towards you during the night, even daringly cast an arm over you sometimes. 

It left you in a state of panic registering that Taehyung’s, dare you say warm and cozy body would be just behind you, his chest mere centimeters from your back. You would stay still for some time, calculating the optimal way to remove yourself from his hold until he eventually stirred enough to loosen his grip, darting right out of bed. 

Other times, he’d wake earlier than you and you wondered what would cross his mind once he registered your oddly proximal bodies. 

Did it ever bother him?

Nonetheless, it brought a mischievous smile to your face thinking about the fact that Taehyung had such a perfectly human habit like cuddling. He was always so serious, so put together and a near machine at everything he did, seeming as though he wouldn’t give anything romantic the time of day. 

But it was hard to forget the fluffy feeling that blossomed in your chest when you would sense his proximity, maybe inviting a liking to it. You had always slept alone, only yourself and the darkness to keep you company in your lonely bed, in your lonely home. 

So sleeping next to someone, namely Kim Taehyung left an impression on you you couldn’t quite shake. It was difficult to erase the image of his calm, sleeping face after the handful of times witnessing it. Long eyelashes delicately pressed to the skin under his eyes, lips plush as he seemed to naturally pout in his sleep. The sunlight only accentuated his honey-coloured skin, adding a glow to his features that made him appear prettier than he already was. 

It was nice to think you’d wake up to that every morning. 

You found your mind still playing around with the idea until you snapped yourself out of it, questioning why the hell you always ventured off whenever you thought about him. 

Weird. 

You were scolding yourself until your eyes caught Taehyung strolling into the kitchen with his phone in is hand. He’d foregone a jacket today, black shirt sleeves folded to mid-forearm paired with black slacks.  

You were normal until you almost spat your coffee seeing he wasn’t wearing a tie but instead had the first few buttons of his shirt open, revealing a generous view of his neck and the beginnings of his chest. 

Fucking hell.

You were staring stupidly until Taehyung peeked up at you, smiling “Morning.” 

“M-morning.” you stuttered.

He seemed unsuspecting as he returned his attention to his phone, proceeding to the kitchen counter and retrieving a cup to fix himself a drink. He appeared to be reading something conscientiously on his device, never taking his eyes off and you quickly became bored, ready to use the weapon you’d acquired. 

“So.. you’re a cuddler, huh?”

Taehyung nearly dropped his cup.  

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“You’re a cuddler when you sleep. Cute.” You rested your chin in your palm, playful smile on your face. 

“I think you’re mistaken, I am not a cuddler. And I’m not cute.” Taehyung denied as he only focused on the cup, his back to you. You then watched him reach for his selection of tea and purposefully evade the coffee, your eyes lighting up with mischief.  

“Wait, you’re a cuddler and you drink tea instead of coffee? Very cute.” You pulled on his leg, chuckling as you brought your mug to your lips

This was going to be fun.

“Shut up, I don’t like the taste and tea is healthier.” Taehyung practically sneered back, harshly ripping the packet of his tea bag.

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a cuddler.” You sipped on your coffee, unbothered as you swung your legs back and fourth. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you like it.” 

You nearly spat your drink. 

“What?” 

“I remember a certain someone that shuffles closer to me for warmth, no?” Taehyung snapped back as he returned to his phone and popped his tea into the microwave, his shoulders high to the sky. You could imagine his smug face proud of his remark while searching for your own, realizing that Taehyung was damn good at arguing and you’d really have to upgrade your comeback game to counter him. 

He was unfortunately your match.

“Even if I were one, which I’m not, It’s not like I’m committing a crime.” Taehyung suddenly finalized with a snippy tone, and you realized you may have hurt his ego. 

Men. 

“I never said it was a bad thing.” You commented under your breath and looked away, popping a raspberry into your mouth. 

Taehyung bit back a smirk as he retrieved his cup of tea, taking a sip as he returned to his phone and took a seat across from you. He began compiling his plate of breakfast as he worked his device, typing away with one hand as if he was drafting the Magna Carta. 

You became bored again.

“Why do you have so much coffee if you don’t like it?” You genuinely felt like inquiring, if he didn’t like the taste why would he have so much? 

“For my housekeepers, they drink it.” He took a sip of his tea, all attention on his phone. 

You nodded understandingly. “Why do you have two housekeepers, by the way? Isn’t one enough?” 

“So they can keep each other company.” He answered absentmindedly, eyes still glued to his phone as he bit a piece of his toast. You really hated that he wasn’t actively interacting with you because it only left room to stare at him, and that was never any good.  

He looked illegally attractive with the unbuttoned part of his shirt, your mind profusely bugging out over the exposed bit of his chest. You were reminded of the full view from last night, and began pondering how long you’d survive having to see that for the rest of your life. 

“O-oh, that’s nice.” You stuttered back a reply, squashing your previous thought.

You were actually quite impressed by the kindness Taehyung showed behind that decision, noticing he had these small moments where he was caring, considerate, all hidden behind his unreadable face and seriousness when it came to business. 

It was quite interesting. 

You were mindlessly eating until Taehyung spoke up, eyes flickering towards you. “What are you going to do today?” 

You swallowed your fruit. “I was planning on moving more stuff in again, start finishing my studio setup. Thank you again for the room, by the way.” You expressed your gratitude once more, forking some eggs into your mouth. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

“What are you doing today?” you echoed his question, taking another swig of coffee.

“I’m working again. If you need anything I’ll be in my study.” Taehyung sent you a half-smile before snatching up his plate, bringing his phone to his ear as he stepped out of the kitchen. 

You sighed heavily only being left to think about your day, which would be majorly spent unpacking and arranging things. You had a plethora of art supplies, design tools and canvases to set up in your studio, leaving you constantly thinking of how to even begin. 

It would be a mission alone to sort through everything you had left, knowing you didn’t exactly label out of sheer laziness and would have to individually unbox and organize everything . 

It was this exact task that took up most of your day, time having slipped by in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t easy when you had to be rummaging through your belongings and situating them where you thought appropriate, also trying to envision a new look for your studio. 

You hadn’t realized 3 hours had passed until the ring of the front doorbell caused you to check your phone, curious as to who would be visiting your home in the middle of the day. You assumed it be one of the housekeepers and abandoned your work, cascading down the staircase and striding towards the grand entrance. 

You drew towards the monitor Taehyung had showed you just yesterday, explaining it to be your home security system. Taehyung detailed it had a camera for your front porch that detected movement and the doorbell alike, so you peered at the monitor to see the stranger outside your home. 

Your eyebrows furrowed registering a woman, her back turned towards the door as she fidgeted nervously with her purse in her hand. 

Sheer curiosity took you over and you paddled towards the door, unlocking it. You wore a smile on your face as you swung the door open, though it was immediately wiped off taking in the last person on earth you ever wanted to see. 

“Mother?”

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