#they ruined my life and i fear they'll try to do it again the next time they see me...

[skunkes]

the bad: i have been raised without much warmth from my parents in childhood, but also pressured to conform to familial authority, doubt myself always, and value familial connections above all else (<- failed at this, and feel guilt about it.)

but also in experiencing this i have been so isolated from the entire rest of the world and others, that it will be nearly impossible to create my own "family" -> find safety and comfort in anybody else once my family is Gone. despite dis i find it really difficult to break away from the familiar, disobey and disappoint, because, well, why are my wishes more important than anybody else's. why would I cause upset and distress in anybody, and exert so much effort into my doubt filled half decisions, for my meaningless little Wishes. being away would also mean less time with these people who I'll never see again once they're gone. being raised this way is definitely paying off for those who did so.

the good: yaaaay adjacent inspiration for writing talon lore

[bluestrawberrybunny]

As my work day comes to a close, I debate about joining Discord servers again... joining servers is scary... mostly because an ex abuser was in the same fandoms as me and frequented Discord so... idk...

It genuinely depends...

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑒

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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Certain people are dealt a shittier hand in life than others, and unfortunately, you are one of those people.

Life has never been easy for you. As far back as you can remember, it's been one shitstorm after the other. Your parents are as good as dead to you, because all they ever did was make reckless choices and run away, leaving you to clean up their mess. That's how, at the young age of twenty, you've already got more debt than the average person could ever fathom.

Still, you make do. You hustle as best you can to get through one day and move on to the next. It's exhausting, and sometimes it feels like you're ready to give up, but against all odds, you persevere.

"That'll be 50 credits," the cashier says.

You let out a sigh and give her your card. Everything is so goddamn expensive these days. Even a simple grocery trip feels like a big slap in the face.

"Oh. Sorry," she blinks. "It's been declined. Do you have any other form of payment on hand?"

Shit. This one too?

You mumble an apology and dig through your wallet again. Thankfully, you happen to have enough cash to cover the cost. Just barely.

"Thank you for shopping with us," the cashier recites monotonously. She packs your groceries in a bag and hands it to you, then gestures for the next customer to step forward.

You leave the store the same as always, feeling worn-down and discouraged. You'll have to apply for a new card, but who knows when they'll send it to you. Goddammit. You're already scraping the bottom of the barrel as is. You hardly have enough emergency savings to last until then.

It's a shitty day, and unfortunately for you, it's about to get even worse.

"[Name]," a distinct, familiar voice mutters. You flinch at the sound, nearly dropping your grocery bag in the process. There's a man standing outside your apartment complex. A man that always makes your stomach crease in discomfort.

You instinctively step back. "I don't want any trouble, Johnny. Please, can I just get through?"

He ignores you and walks over, and while you stand there, stiff from fright, he peeks into your grocery bag and hums, visibly amused.

"Not exactly a lavish dinner," he chuckles. "But I guess you've got no choice but to be frugal, huh?"

"I just want to go home," you plead. "Please. Don't do this."

Alas, Johnny has never been one to give a shit about your circumstances, and today is no exception.

"I haven't been getting the money you promised me," he glares. "You've been late on your payments, and I'm really starting to lose my patience here."

You try to protest, but he wraps his hand around your throat and forcibly pins you against a wall. He isn't applying too much pressure, not yet, but the threat is there all the same.

"You owe me money, [Name]." His pupils constrict, a telltale sign that he's furious. "I'm done with your shitty excuses. If you can't make good on your promises, then you pay the price. This is the way the world works."

He holds you there, just so he can watch you whimper and cower in fear, then he eventually releases his hold on you and steps away.

"I'm giving you one more week," he says. "If you don't come up with the amount we agreed on in one week, I might seriously have to kill you. And don't even think of running away like your parents did. I'm sure as hell not gonna make the same mistake twice."

Johnny walks off with a steady, relaxed gait and his hands buried in his pockets. It's that easy for him. He can threaten an innocent woman and not think anything of it, the sick bastard.

You sniffle and resist the urge to cry. Fuck your parents. All they ever did was ruin your life. You have no idea where they're hiding right now, but for their own sake, they had better not show their faces around you ever again.

Still. There's no point in lamenting what can't be changed. Your parents are gone. It's up to you to remedy this situation and pay that disgusting loan shark back.

The question is, how?

How in the world will you pull that off? You barely make enough to eat two meals a day and cover your rent, let alone the steep cost of your debts.

It just seems like a lost cause. You've been working yourself to the bone, but you still can't even make a dent in what your parents owe. It's all too much to bear. It makes you want to forfeit your life entirely. At least then, you might finally be able to rest in peace.

Weighed down by the hopelessness of your situation, you trudge into your crappy studio apartment, chuck the groceries in the fridge, and plop down on the couch, defeated.

I guess it's time to look for another job. Something I can squeeze into my schedule. I can probably survive without sleeping a few days in a row, right?

You chuckle brokenly and scroll through your phone, looking for anything you might have a shot at. Finding a good job in this city is yet another hopeless dream for someone like you, who didn't go to college and doesn't have any other notable qualifications. All of your current jobs may as well be paying you dirt, which is why you can never meet Johnny's ridiculous demands.

You're just about to give up and go make yourself a rather pathetic dinner, when suddenly, something catches your eye.

[𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗠 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛]: 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱. 𝗦𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀-𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗶𝘀.

Vampires. Not long ago, a law was passed, granting vampires access to the city. More and more of them seem to be moving here, the central hub of the country. Of course, most people felt uncomfortable with this change, but it seems to be a necessary step in fighting back against years of discrimination. Humans naturally fear vampires, and the government is doing everything it can to integrate them into society.

Since drinking blood by force is considered a crime, this program is most likely a way for vampires to obtain their blood safely and without any consequence, just so long as people are willing to sign up for it.

You take a moment to assess your situation. You have almost no money to your name, and there's a greedy loan shark that's just itching to torture you if you fail to pay him back in time. If you don't get some money, and fast, you're probably headed for the afterlife.

That being said, you've never encountered a vampire before. You've heard all sorts of horror stories about them. That they're physically stronger than humans, have more acute senses, and could easily bludgeon you to death if they wanted to.

But even if that's actually true, how is it any different than what Johnny will do to you if you don't pay him back?

You press your lips together. Perhaps there's no harm in trying at least once and seeing how it'll go. It's not like you're guaranteed to get accepted for the program anyways. And besides, this is being implemented by the government, so surely, they won't allow any humans to come to harm in the process.

Above all else, you are incredibly desperate, with very little to lose.

So, you decide to take a gamble.

𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗬 [𝗫]?

...

Your luck might finally be changing for the better, or maybe they're just desperate for applicants, but either way, you got the job.

It was a bit tedious. The screening process was rather lengthy, and they made you do quite a few medical tests to ensure you didn't have any infectious diseases or anything like that. You suppose having a clean bill of health is the one thing required for this position, considering you'll be giving your blood to someone else. Thankfully, even though your life is shit, you've always been rather sturdy, which is the only reason you've lasted this long.

You're currently walking through a glossy white corridor. The building you're in is polished and sleek, some kind of medical company that's been researching vampires for quite a long time. They call themselves Plasma Inc., which is a bit tacky, but you're certainly in no position to judge.

The doctor escorting you holds a clipboard against his chest, and glances over at you every so often.

"We're almost there," he says. After a brief pause, he adds, "There's no need to be nervous."

Honestly, you're a little nervous, but only because you've never done this before. Giving your blood to a vampire... it all sounds so farfetched. You really didn't think this was something you'd ever be doing.

But beggars can't afford to be choosers.

"For the client's privacy and peace of mind, there aren't any cameras inside the room. We will not be able to see or hear anything that happens in there. You signed the confidentiality clause, so please keep in mind that you will be liable for any private information that you happen to disclose."

You knew as much going into this. There's no point in psyching yourself out. Everything's going to be fine. This is all perfectly safe.

...it should be, at least.

"Whenever you're ready," the doctor says. He's stopped in front of a door, and you instinctively gulp as you imagine what—or rather, who—is on the other side.

Okay, then. No reason to back out now. You chose this. It's a desperate measure, and sure, you'll lose a bit of blood in the process, but if it helps you pay off your debt and get back on your feet, then it's easily worth it.

"I'm ready," you say.

The doctor nods briefly, offers you an encouraging smile, then opens the door.

It closes behind you right away, and your eyes instinctively search the room until they land on a motionless, seated figure.

It's a man. Well, a vampire, but still a man. Deep down, you'd been hoping that it might be a woman. A man seems somewhat more intimidating, although you suppose all vampires are stronger than humans, so it wouldn't have made a difference either way.

He's beautiful, though. Vampires are scarce in numbers, and they don't usually go out during the day, so it's unlikely that you would have ever passed by one. But you've only ever heard people speak of them in frightening terms. Never in a million years did you imagine they'd be so utterly gorgeous. Or perhaps this particular vampire is simply an exception.

You don't quite realize how much time you've spent fawning over his appearance until he suddenly stands up.

Instinctively, you flinch, and it's clear that it doesn't go unnoticed.

He narrows his eyes. "If you're not comfortable doing this, you're welcome to leave. I was told that the humans who signed up for this program were all completely willing. I have no intention of taking your blood without your full cooperation."

"Oh. S-Sorry," you stammer. "I'm not uncomfortable. I guess I'm just a little bit starstruck. It's my first time meeting a vampire."

"There's no need to gawk at me. I'm not some animal trapped inside a cage."

He has a rather harsh tongue, but again, you're in no position to judge. Perhaps your reaction offended him, unintentional as it may have been.

"Sorry," you say again, then you offer him a weak smile. "Um... I'm [Name]. I'm not really sure what the etiquette for this sort of thing is, but it's nice to meet you."

It takes him a while to respond. He studies you quietly with those mesmerizing eyes of his, and the silence is awkward, to say the least.

"I'm Xavier," he finally replies. He frowns a bit. "But I didn't come here to chat. If you're ready, I'll like to move on with this as soon as possible."

Right. He's here for the same reason you are. It's not an opportunity for the two of you to exchange pleasantries.

You're here to sell your blood, and he's here to drink it.

"Okay," you swallow. Now that it's come down to it, you can feel your heart beating faster by the second. But this is fine. This is nothing. Compared to all the shit you've already been through, this may as well be a walk in the park.

You walk over to him, taking slow, careful steps, then you sit down in one of the chairs. He does the same, staring at you without blinking the whole time. You watch as he shuffles a bit closer, and he uses his fingers to pull down the collar of your shirt slightly. You shiver at the sensation of his skin brushing against yours. God, his hands are cold.

Xavier stares right into your eyes. "This is your last chance to back out. If you tell me to stop now, I will, but otherwise, I'll take it that you've agreed to move on."

"I'm fine," you reassure. Despite the fact that your stomach is a bundle of nerves right now, you're determined to press on. You need this. There's simply no other option.

You'll do whatever it takes to live on, even if it means selling the very essence that grants you life in the first place.

"Okay," Xavier says, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His jaw unhinges, and the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut is the pearly-white color of his bright, glistening fangs.

He bites into your neck.  

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[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Teeth

Part 13

Masterlist

Warnings: Stalker vibes, confrontations, anxiety.

Photo by shaazjung on Instagram

"There's something you haven't explained to me." Billy says suddenly.

You pause, from sending your messages, looking across at him from your spot in the passenger seat.

You raise your eyebrows expectantly.

"Why do you think hackers- or people trying to breach security in general- would underestimate the level of sophistication of the system?"

You take a deep breath, lean back.

"Because," You say with a tired sigh, "When they search up the company structure, they'll see me as a consultant."

"You?"

"Female." You clarify.

"You really think that people will make that assumption?"

"Why not? It's been happening for most of my life anyway, I'm just weaponising it now."

He's silent for a long moment.

"I'm sorry that you have to go through that."

"It's fine," You sing, "It means I get to design a system that looks dumb but ruins some fucker's life."

He smiles fondly, glancing over at you.

"Come over to my place next week, I'll do the cooking this time."

You hum, prolonging your response so that it seems like you take some time to decide.

In reality, saying no was never an option.

"Sure, I'd like that."

You don't notice the way his shoulders drop subtly, relaxing, just moments after.

.

It's not as difficult to leave your place alone as it was before.

Sure, for those first few weeks after the robbery, you'd only gone to and from work with Billy and occasionally, one of your friends would accompany you to the supermarket.

Today, when Amy calls to find out of you're still on for later, you pause, and tell her that maybe you're going to try to go by yourself today.

She's quiet for a moment, and you can almost hear her thinking.

"Okay, but please call if you feel even a little bit unsure?" You can hear the worry in her voice, you know that she's thinking about the first time she accompanied you, and you hid in the bathroom for ten minutes cause you thought you were being followed.

"I will, Amy, thank you."

Truthfully, you could never shake the feeling that you were being watched.

It went with you everywhere, like a shadow that just kept coming back no matter how much light you shined on it.

You tried to take deep breaths, and reassure yourself that everything was okay. It was the best you could do.

Billy was the only person that made you feel completely safe, his knowledge and background meant that you could very much trust whenever he said you weren't being followed.

But now? Alone like this, you try not to look over your shoulder too many times when examining apples, or not to freeze up when someone got too close to you.

Overall, at the cashier, you find yourself a little glad that you're able to at least get this far despite anything that may happen later.

It's a step in the right direction for your self-empowerment, a reminder that time can sometimes help repair the damage caused by traumatic events.

You're piling your groceries into the trunk of your car when you hear someone say your name.

Freezing in fear is a normal response for you, but once again, you do your best to breathe through it, and turn.

"Andrew? Hello," you greet.

Your former boss gives you a sharp smile and approaches. You take your time, assessing him as a possible threat.

He looks a bit sallow, the underneath of his eyes are a little grey, possibly with lack of sleep, a shadow of a beard sprouting on the base of his face.

He looks a bit unkempt, his hands in his pockets and you make sure to casually put your trolley between him and you for safety.

"You look like you're doing great." He says, taking in your piles of items, and then carefully looking at you.

You watch his eyes trail down your body and your head lights up with warning signs.

You smile politely, nodding your head.

"I'm fine, I hope you are too." You offer lightly, trying to finish packing your car as quickly as possible.

"Well, when you left, the everyone was counting on Anvil to accept our offer. When he declined, the board decided I wasn't good enough at my job."

You swallow. Is that was this was? A guilt trip?

"I'm sorry to hear that." You state calmly.

He takes a shaky step forward, and you stand your ground looking right at him. You think if he tried something, the shopping cart would come in handy in keeping him away from you.

"It's odd though, I keep playing my last meeting with Russo over and over in my head, and do you know what stood out to me?"

You don't respond.

"What stood out," he continues, "Is that Russo only wanted you."

So this was an accusation.

"Now why would he want someone like you, if you weren't fucking him?"

You press your teeth together angrily.

"Fuck. You." You grit out.

He blinks, having never seen you this angry before. You continue before he has the chance to speak.

"You think I wanted to leave? I left because you kept treating me like shit. Over and over again, and now you think you can come here and accuse me of this? No wonder you got fired when I left, because you couldn't keep taking credit for my work."

"You little bitch." He says taking another step forward until his body is right against the shopping cart. He grips the metal side of it, leaning forward even more in an attempt to get into your space.

"I vouched for you so many times. I'm the reason you got this job in the first place. You were nobody, nothing, until I decided to give you a chance. I've been watching you for a week now, trying to get you alone to talk to you, and you've been hooked to William Russo like dirt under his boot, and you want to tell me you aren't fucking him?"

You feel the fear of realization sink under your skin. Your stomach turns, making you nauseated.

"You've been following me?" You ask, in a much smaller voice than you want to.

He frowns, pushes away from the trolley and turns his back to you for a moment.

"Don't flatter yourself, I only wanted to talk."

He grits out.

You don't say anything, just watching his figure, trying to figure out how to get away from him.

You close your trunk, he watches you return your cart to the little docking station nearby.

"I'm sorry for the way things turned out." You say to him finally, trying to ease the tension.

He studies you for a long moment.

"You can fix this. Bring Russo back to us, they'll take you back, you can vouch for me like I once vouched for you."

"I'm not going to do that."

He grunts angrily, taking steps to approach you.

You back away, but he just keeps coming, he's almost in your personal space when suddenly a hand claps down on his shoulder.

The parking lot security guard looks very stern as he pulls Andrew a safe distance away from you.

"Is this man bothering you?" The security inquires in your direction.

You gulp, thinking that if you said 'yes,' you'd be forced to stand around here for longer.

"A bit, but I just want to leave." You finally say.

The guard nods, standing as a wall between Andrew and you, and you take the out, sliding into your car as fast as you can and reversing out of your park.

You don't look back.

.

'I don't suppose you could spare a moment to come over?' You send in his direction.

You swallow, turning your phone over in your hands, deep in thought.

You phone vibrates, you glance down.

'Be there in 5.'

"It's open." You say, when you hear a knock on the door.

He comes through slowly, no harsh sounds ever present when he's around.

"I know this building is safe, but you really should check before you let people in. What if that wasn't me?"

You don't answer, just staring at him as he locks the door behind him.

You sigh, your feet tucked under you as you lounge on your couch, your third glass of wine cupped securely in your hands.

You look up when he says your name.

You study him the same way he studies you. His hair is wet from a recent shower, but he's dressed comfortably this time, in black sweatpants and a soft green hoodie. He looks so comfortable, and the words 'boyfriend material' spring to mind, your mouth twitches, deep in thought, thinking about what he would say if you said that to him.

"Are you alright?" He asks after studying you.

You nod, taking another long sip of wine. He looks behind you, probably noting the abundance of unpacked groceries on your kitchen counter. You'd brought most of them up, only really worrying about the frozen and refrigerated items before you'd stopped, in favour of the sweet white you were now holding.

"Sometimes, I really hate the field I chose."

Billy looks at you for a moment, trying to read into you, but you know he doesn't have all the information.

"Why?" He asks, stepping forward and dropping into the spot beside you easily.

You rest your cheek on the back of the couch, looking up at him.

"It would be easier. I could have picked the culinary arts instead of this and no one would question if I was sleeping with my boss everytime I did something good."

"Someone accused you of that?" Billy asks evenly, doesn't take his eyes off of you.

You sigh, nodding, swirling your wine around in your little cup- not using a piece of glassware out of fear that you may break it.

"Andrew," You say softly to Billy, despair heavy in the farthes reaches of your mind.

"He followed me, confronted me, accused me, and then tried to bargain with me to come back."

You sigh, sniffling for a brief moment, fighting the pressure behind your eyes as tears pool.

You blink quickly to stop them from falling.

"He told me that I would be nothing without him. And all the way home I kept thinking that if I'd just picked something else, anything else, I might be a little bit happier."

A teardrop splashes into your wine, you wipe at it quickly.

He lets out a slow breath and you glance up at him in surprise, half realising that he's still here, watching you.

His dark eyes are tender, studying you in great detail before lifting a hand and crooking two fingers at you.

"Come here." Is all he says.

You breathe out a rush of air, knocking back the last two moutfuls of wine in your cup before setting the item on the little table in front of you.

You move slowly, giving him a chance to change his mind, leaning into him, and slowly resting your head into the crook of his neck.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer until you're half seated in his lap.

There's just a rightness to being in his arms that finally breaks the dam inside of you. You let out a little sob, and his arms tighten around you as your body begins to shake as you cry.

"Sorry," you hiccup, "I- I'm sorry."

He shushes you softly, his cheek resting on the top of your head.

You feel small in his arms, a fragile thing made to be picked up and cared for and he very sensation makes you cry harder because it feels good, and you find yourself unable to gather the strength to think about pulling away from him. His scent is around you, his body pressed so tightly to yours that there's no gap between you.

There's a small abstract moment in your head, that you're able to identify a wholeness that wasn't there before.

You shiver, looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks, noting the feeling that you'd never realised you were missing something until he took you into his arms.

His thumbs wipe at your fresh tears, pushing them back, forcing them away.

You press your head back against his chest, shudders out a sigh as his arms go right back around you.

"There's so much I want to say," Billy starts, "I don't even know where too begin."

You sniffle.

"You don't have to." You murmur, hoping that he doesn't feel obligated to comfort you with his words.

You feel your head begin to swim as your third glass of wine begins to catch up to you.

"When I started Anvil, I had nothing." He says, his voice smooth and deep in your ear.

"There was me, and an idea, and I made a lot of questionable deals in order to get my company started."

You hear him swallow.

"There was one man, he believed that because he gave me a chance when no one else would, that he owned me. He treated me like his own personal dog, and for a couple of years, all I did was whatever he asked."

You listen intently, melting into him as he begins to rub circles into your lower back.

"It took me a while- longer than I'd care to admit- to understand that just because he helped me, it didn't mean I owed him everything. Sure, his generosity was appreciated, but it was my work that took Anvil off the ground, and seeing how far it's come, how far it has yet to go, and how much good it does makes it worthwhile for me."

He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"What I'm saying is, that you don't owe anyone a damn thing. Your successes are your own, because you did them." He makes a little sound of amusement at the back of his throat before continuing, "You're the secret ingredient."

You sniffle, smiling at his words.

"Andrew thinks he gave you these opportunities out of the goodness of his heart, but that's bullshit. You showed him who you were, and he picked you because he thought you were good at your job."

"And you?" You ask, desperate to hear it, "Why did you pick me?"

He makes a tiny huff of amusement.

"Because I love my company," You feel his face press into your hair, "And I wanted to give it the best chance, which is you."

You sigh, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, breathing in that amazing spiced scent, before relaxing fully, turning to a boneless mass in his arms.

"Thank you." You finally say to him.

He makes a deep sound in the back of his throat, you feel the vibration against your cheek.

He doesn't let go, and you have to motivation to pull away.

You're so at ease that you can't help closing your eyes, falling asleep in his arms without a second thought.

.

He holds you for a long while, a stupid smile on his face as he breathes in your strawberry scent.

When he's sure he won't wake you, he slips a hand under your knees, and stands with you in his arms.

You make a little sound, your arms wrapping tighter around his neck.

Billy takes his time, walking you to your bedroom, pulling the covers back and placing you down.

You don't let go of him, clinging like a koala, his eyes widen as you almost pull all of his body weight on top of yourself, he catches his weight on his arms before he crushes you.

He tries to pull away but you're not having it, maneuvering him in your sleep, until he's on his back, and your body is cradled against his, your head on his chest.

He lets out a breath of amusement, raising the hand that isn't pinned under you to stroke you hair.

He hears you hum in bliss and he smiles.

He wants to worship you so badly, kiss every inch of your skin, and then twice over for good measure.

He can't help it, pressing his thumb over the pout of your lips, his heart flipping when you draw even closer to him.

How can he pull himself away from you now? What kind of strength would that take?

Billy thinks about what would happen if he stayed right here beside you, if you wake up in the morning and find him here, you'd probably be so at ease.

He wanted that, he would probably kiss you at some point.

He can feel his heart racing as he thinks about it, kissing you breathless, giving you rounds of uninhibited pleasure, hearing you beg for him as if he would ever deny you.

But what about after?

He swallows, worried about after.

He wouldn't be able to keep himself away from you. Once, would never be enough.

He'd have to have you, over and over and over, never wanting to hide your relationship.

But that would make rumors true, it would invalidate your successes because you were sleeping with your boss.

The breath that escapes him is so pained that it takes him a second to take another.

He'd never forgive himself if he ruined your reputation that way.

He sighs, tracing the back of his hand over your cheeks and listening to the way you sigh.

He knew what you wanted, your body made it crystal clear everytime he was around you, calling out for him, and if he were a weaker man, he'd oblige.

His relationship with control was strained on a good day. The military had helped him focus his anger, train his rage and his bloodlust, but nothing had trained him to control his desire.

As Billy looked at you, sleeping in his arms, he felt his control grinding down with each breath you took.

It was only a matter of time.

.

Alone.

Again.

You sit up, taking a sad breath.

How did he always manage to slip away from you? Why?

What would it take to wake up next to him?

A question that goes unanswered.

In your kitchen, you're stunned to find that all your groceries have been packed away, only a few items in unfamiliar places. A warm feeling in your chest, you almost want to text him and thank him, except that you remember the last time you did that he left you on read. You decide to tell him in person when he's taking you to work.

You get dressed for work like usual, but when you're halfway ready, you pause, thinking about Dani's words from a few days ago.

In an effort to torment him, you shed your fancy work shirt and grab one of the work appropriate dresses in your closet.

It's sky blue, with half sleeves and matching belt. You're not sure if it will even catch his eye, but you decide to try anyway.

Except that when you step out of your aparment building, it's not Billy waiting for you.

You've seen Sergei around before, but you blink in surprise when he nods his head at you, and pulls open the back door of the car he's standing in front of.

Your heart plummets.

He'd sent someone else to pick you up.

You smile at Sergei, asking him for a moment before you pull your phone from your pocket and dial his number.

"Russo." Is what he says when he answers.

"Hey," You greet lightly, trying to be quick, "Did you send someone else to take me to work?"

He's silent for a moment.

"Yes, I-"

"Okay thank you," you interrupt, not interested in hearing what he had to say, "Just checking to make sure. Bye."

You end the call, staring at your phone for a second before shaking your head.

You turn to Sergei, giving him a smile and a word of thanks as you slide into the back seat of the car.

"Do you have any music preferences?" He asks kindly, and you wonder briefly if that was even in the scope of his job.

"Anything is good with me." You respond, crossing your arms and looking out the window angrily as he begins to drive.

You have many hindsight realisations on your way to work, that you really could have driven yourself. The only reason you were okay with Billy taking you is because he was going in the same direction anyway.

This just seemed like way too much time and effort to get you to work.

You try to make excuses for Billy, like maybe something urgent happened at work, or something personal, you didn't really know every aspect of his life now did you?

But you knew in the back of your head, that this was something he always does. He gets close, gives you blissful peace, and then pulls away, ignores you for a few days.

Frankly, you've hit your boiling point, and by the time you get to work, you're fuming.

You drop your things on your desk, and you give your coworker a big smile when she compliments your dress.

You'd worn it for him. Pathetic.

You make it up to his office, smiling at Katerina, his secretary, asking her if he's available and waiting for a yes before you knock on his door and enter when he says.

He doesn't even look up at you.

Taking notes at his desk, and there's just so much anger inside of you that you're not really thinking straight.

"Is there something you need?" He asks flatly, still not sparing you a single glance.

So he knows it's me, you think, and yet somehow he refuses to look up.

It cuts like betrayal.

"I can drive myself to work from now on, thank you."

He pauses, finally, looking up at you.

You watch him swallow.

"I insist, really, it's safer this way." He says.

"But inefficient," you counter, "To have Sergei go out of his way no doubt, when I have a perfectly good car."

He looks like he wants to argue, but can't form the right words.

He stands, eyebrows drawn, coming to stand in front of you.

It's probably a bad idea on his part, given your warped headspace, your eyes drop to his lips for a brief moment, before going back up to his dark eyes when he speaks.

"Very well, if you insist on driving, it's your choice."

You nod sharply, your throat closing up in despair. Was this the end of your friendship?

"Good." You say, no emotion in your tone, "One more thing."

"Yes?" He asks.

You swallow, grabbing the knot of his tie and pulling him down a little, while simultaneously rising onto your toes.

You don't give it a second thought, pressing your mouth to his.

It's like fireworks going off in your head, sparks spilling over and scattering into the farthest reaches of your mind.

You let out a little sigh of bliss into his mouth before releasing your grip on his tie.

You pull back from his mouth, taking a deep breath to apologise when suddenly his hands are on your hips. You feel the way his fingers twitch, as if he's fighting something bigger than you.

You gasp as he pulls you closer, body pressed tightly to his and you look up into his eyes.

He angles his head down, and his mouth is on yours once more.

He returns the kiss this time, with eager hums and steady pressure. It's greater than any other kiss you've ever experienced.

Your chest feels warm, your stomach flips, sizzling sparks work their way over your skin.

Your hands grip his shoulders, snaking their way up behind his neck.

He groans, hot breath into your parted mouth and you accept the sound greedily, more desperate for him than ever before.

He turns you, presses you up against his desk, braces his arms on either side of you for a moment before his hand cups the back of your neck securely.

It's all consuming, the way his mouth moves this way and that, the friction of his beard on your chin the taste of his mouth threatening to undo you.

His blunted fingers pressing tight into your skin, his hands wander your body, reaching for your knee, raising it to wrap around his hip. Your clothed center just barely brushes a hint of stiffness at the front of his pants and all you're thinking in various levels of enthusiasm is 'yes.'

The loud pitch of his ringing phone startles you. You shove him away quickly in surprise, gasping as you slide from your spot between him and his desk.

Your body is hot, cunt throbbing, skin hypersensitive and aching for his hands.

You suck in a big breath, smoothing your hair over in a panicked frenzy and running your hands down your dress.

Oh God.

Oh God.

Had you really just did that? Kissed him when you'd come in here to tell him off?

You try to take another measured breath but Billy seems to have taken all the air in the room with just one touch of his lips.

.

"Russo." Billy says, leaning over the desk, putting his phone on loudspeaker.

"Apologies for interrupting, but Miss Meachum is here and demanding to meet."

Billy huffs, of course he'd be interrupted by a Meachum. The entire family never understood boundaries.

He looks over at you, facing the windows, taking deep breaths and looking more and more flustered by the second.

"Tell her I'll be with her shortly." He says, hanging up right after.

He studies you, the ripe scent of your arousal filling the air. The panther tears at him, to sit you on his desk and follow through with exactly what he was about to do.

When he resists, the beast plants images of you writhing in pleasure as he licks your strawberry sweet cunt. His cock is half-hard, growing more erect with each second his mind replays what it was like to finally have your soft lips on his.

He swallows, opens his mouth to speak.

You beat him to it.

"I'll drive myself to work from now on." You utter harshly.

He watches in disbelief, mouth parted, as you head to the door, opening it and stepping out without so much as a glance at him.

It's all he needs to realize how much he's fucked up.

.

.

.

A/N: sorry 😞

[likeawildthing]

when i fnished grad school (which was actually 2022? new job was this year though!) my friends made me swear on a napkin to learn to relax and im happy to report the experiment has been a success and i have become a lesiure QUEEN.

what am i doing w/ my free time?

making miniatures! currently working on a dollhouse for my old coworker's daughters. will share pics! maybe i will finish a single project this year.

hanging out w/ my kids and their GFs because they're awesome. at the same time, trying to avoid becoming BFFs with said lovely GFs because i cannot take having another tragic breakup dollhouse rotting in my basement

i color in a coloring book every night which is not making my own art but it is relaxing w/out the pressure of making like work!

making friends in the most random places (mammogram screening, hospital emergency room, while white water rafting)

slowly watching my gardens die because my kids forgot to water them when i was out of town for two weeks and i've been sick for most of the summer (feeling MUCH BETTER now. who knew gallbladders could be such a nightmare!)

have been going to monthly craft meet ups with the old ladies at my library. they go multiple times a week and the tea is always piping (literally AND metaphorically)

at my prev WFH job the cat trained me to sit on the couch w/ him BUT at my new WFH job I need 2 screens so i've slowly been traning him to sit in a cat tree next to me. it's a WIP for sure. he s a king forever and i hate to ruin his life but mommy must have a job to pay the bills)

exercse? hahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa no. i did buy a stair stepper when i was on morphine in the hosptal tho because i thought it would be KEY TO MY RECOVERY? ma'am. no.

rewatching derry girls once a month becase yes?

have become a NYT games feind. morning: wordle, connections, i am 50/50 on strands but am giving it a try. 9pm sharp: sudoku, the mini, crossword. spelling bee enrages me.

learning my own WFH fashion

getting myself grocery store flowers every week, taking flowers to other poeple every other week

i am so angry about this but...doing laundry on a weekly basis is actually good for my mental health? so now i do laundry on a weekly basis instead of holding for weeks and doing 22 loads in a weekend once a month. (no fear, i am not and never will be the type of functional person who does a load of laundry a day, or, god forbid, pair socks. sock basket or bust for life). i did by a cordless shark vacuum and it's lifechanging.

reading again! have read two books this week which is more than the last several months so that feels nice <3

apparently trauma dumping on tumblr again

venmoing my kids so they'll run snack-based errands

[sky-scribbles]

Playlist for my Aeor longfic

I failed to figure out how to do a fancy spotify embed like the kids do but uh. Here's the playlist for Gravity!

I listened to this while planning and writing, and there are even a few shout-outs to the songs in the fic... Songs are arranged chronologically, so you should be able to hear the story happening, hopefully :'D

Further yelling about song choices under the cut!

A Matter of Time - This one is... sort of the fic's opening titles in my head? I wanted to start out with an instrumental, to capture the vibes of the months before the fic opens - Essek and Caleb apart, thinking about the T-Dock, and each other. Wondering. Waiting.

Horse to Water - Essek in Chapter 1, knowing his life as the Shadowhand is ending, waiting for Caleb to come and take him away to whatever comes next. (I'm normally very picky about not putting songs that reference modern day stuff on fantasy playlists but this one's vibes were too perfect)

Dear Fellow Traveller - Two wizards heading into Aeor together.

Conquest of Spaces - A song for Aeor. A dark, beautiful city, the remains of a people who lived by greed and power. (And two wizards in the ruins, trying to draw closer to each other.)

Neptune - This is mostly for Essek's breakdown in chapter 5, as he worries he'll never break out of his Shadowhand manipulation, wanting to be closer to Caleb and not knowing what that would even look like. And it's a little for Caleb in chapter 6, too, grappling with his feelings for Essek and his fears that they'll ultimately be bad for each other.

Please Don't Say You Love Me - ... and as they move past those fears, this song is for them tentatively acknowledging what they might be to each other. Not yet. But maybe soon.

Woodwork - This is for the chapters 6-9 span, as they learn more about Brashaar's plan. The pressure of a crisis has an odd way of making them realise just how deep their trust and care for each other runs.

Two Evils - Since we're at the point where Brashaar shows up, she gets a song now! This is pretty much her internal monologue during her confrontation with the wizards (though she really should have paid attention to 'if you're not careful, you will lose her' in reference to Quaera...)

Winter - Travelling northward, and yearning. Wishing they had more time.

Mind - A song for a young Quaera, slowly forming a personality, wondering about who she is and how her identity forms...

The Tower - ... and having their own breakdown.

What Could Have Been - I love me a good villainous breakdown, and this is a song for Brashaar's. This is how I imagine she feels during the final confrontation, raging against the gods, against Caleb and Essek, against Quaera after they turn from her. Not quite able to let go of what she thinks Aeor could have been. What, in her eyes, the world is meant to be. (As a bonus, I think the second verse sounds a bit like a retort to her from Quaera...)

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - This is such a fun cinematic cover, and I can't tell you how many times I've imagined a mental AMV of the final battle with Brashaar set to it :'D

Ori, Embracing the Light - I wanted an instrumental here too, because... Essek is dead, Caleb is in shutdown, and Essek and Quaera are communing with the Luxon, a being that doesn't really speak with words. Also, 'embracing the light' is exactly what Quaera does at this point.

Would That I - I know we all use this as Caleb's 'learning to live and love again' song... and I am no exception. This is for him after the T-Dock, finally fully acknowledging his grief, and his love for Essek.

First Day of my Life - Just two wizards realising that they have a future, and agreeing to slowly work at what's between them.

Ready to Call This Love - This one speaks for itself, honestly.

Five - Both of the wizards in the final chapter, but especially Essek realising how isolated he's been from the world, and letting it all in so he can feel it. (Also, studying the universe is a love language - )

Gravity - Gravity is a metaphor for love!!!!

[itsblasttothepast]

Before I send you a new take on rumours, can I say what annoyed me in this race? (you can ignore this part) Sergio had a bad start and said he had no grip on the tyres. Bird's response: "It'll come to you later" (okay, standard response but why wouldn't you tell him something about the tyres to calm him down?). Then when the rain got worse (after the red flag) Checo had to ask Bird to keep telling him the gaps between himself and other drivers because he couldn't see - it made me angry becasue isn't that the engineer's job in the first place? Bird is not talking to Sergio, he is not responding to the questions and that's just unbelieveable (I understand that he could be tired after the triple header but this keeps on happening every race and I just can't find any more excuses for this guy) - BRING WOODY BACK Okay and now since the poison is out I can go for the rumours (I agree with you, we need to go crazier if we want to match the reality): The Markoner (I'm stealing the name) marriage: They will use the drama as a game to go back to their honeymoon phase ad restore the love they lost along the way, they will bring more drivers to destroy since this is the only hobby they share - they are looking for fresh meat because Sergio is taking to long to break and they need their daily dose of killed hopes and dream to function; Or they will keep pushing the 'they have the same car' agenda when we know for a fact now it isn't true, Sergio won't get any upgrades and will start driving a car made of cardboard and gum with one (1) RBR sticker on it and they'll still be saying it's the same car - they'll keep feeding the media to make Checo's life unbearable and then they will say they let him go because of 'taking care of their driver's mental health'; Separatly, I think Horner will say Lewis's signing with Ferrari was all a ploy to get him into RBR and in fact he will be driving for the team next year and Helmut will go back to saying Liam is their best option - and he will completly forget about Yuki for real, he will be surprised to see him in the paddock at all; Since Jos was there today I feel obligated to add him: He will do another 180' and start saying shit about Sergio again, claiming that Max doesn't need anyone in the second seat to keep winning and RBR will agree OR he will get even nicer than he was last week and hell will freeze over and world will end; And finally the media (and fandom in this one): They already did the goodbye party for Sergio so I'm not sure what can be even more wild (since he still has a contract and nothing was confirmed) but I'll try - All the sponsors will leave Checo and start supporting Franco (because for now he's the SkySport's sweetheart) and they will try to find ANY interaction Franco has with anyone to prove their theory. OR they will just keep on asking the same questions to Sergio and Max and RBR will end up with no drivers becasue the bulls will got to prison for beating up the journalists.

Oh, don't worry, I completely share thi sentiment as well, since the fucked up qualy, and what happened the first sprint race... it's like Bird it's saying 'I'm back to ruin you', and RBR it's allowing it. I'm glad Checo said something, but even then he's painted like the bad guy, 'oh, he lost his cool, he yelled at his poor engineer'... 🤦, we need Woody!

Also, taking advantage of this rant space, I'm also adding my own: RBR gaslighting Checo so bad. Marko and Horner saying 'we change his chasis because he complained about it, just to give him confidence'... what? They are acting like Checo is inventing all these problems, when they ducktaped his car and the brakes don't work since I don't know how many races before this one. They are honestly stepping up in their mind games and I fear for Checo's sanity at this point.

All right, back to our game, reality continues to surprass us with the rumors, but my take with Markoner (ft. Jos Verstappen who is back into asshole mode and said Liam would be a great teammate for Max) is that they are talking to Williams to play lottery seats. Williams needs money, that's not a secret. So RBR is asking for a driver swap and Checo goes to Williams, and.... Franco or Carlos, still debating this one, will go to RBR. Then to make Yuki better for keep ignoring him to be promoted, they let him believe his time will come... forever and ever.

Hey, you called it! Papa Verstappen is back saying shit against Checo and being a fan of Lawson, saying he would be an excellent teammate for Max.

Hey, here I have to take a break and ask you... why do you think Marko and Jos say nice things about Checo and then get back to the hate program? Do you think someone is calling the shots and telling them to back off sometimes? I can't come up a rumor for this one.

Oh yes, the fandom is already retiring Checo and being all nasty about it. But my take is that now they will say Franco is taking everything Checo has: his seat, his team, his sponsors, his wife and children... hell, maybe even his dog.

You know? Call me delusional, but when the reporters asked Max if he would be happy with Franco as his new teammate as the press is saying, I could swear Max looked sad. His answer was very neutral, but his eyes... I saw sadness there. I just hope that the little reunion they had today (Horner, Marko, Jos and Max) wasn't a ploy to see how to fire Checo.

And hey, if they fire him, I hope it cost them dearly, so much that they can't recover in a while (sorry, I'm petty).

[prsk-krow]

oh, mb!! may i have [r]omantic yandere!mizuki hcs?? sorry for the trouble </3

My first headcanons post in months, and it's only right to do this, haha. I'm sorry this took so long, but I did enjoy these! Although they might not be what you expect...

{YANDERE!Mizuki general headcanons!} [R]

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

>—-×-—*~.୨୧.~*—-×-—<

WARNING: YANDERE CONTENT BELOW!

Oof, now this is extremely tough, for both Mizuki. Their entire secret revolves around keeping a secret that they fear would ruin their friendships, so them suddenly gaining feelings for someone? Yeah...

At first Mizuki tries to deny their own feelings. You are just their friend, nothing else! They shouldn't try to push it or make something deeper with you! Everything should be fine so long as you two remain friends, right?

Unluckily, love isn't so easy to just shrug off, and once they realize just how bad they have fallen for you, they start to get nervous about their feelings all over again, much like when they had the choice to join Niigo.

They hide their struggles from you, like always, but slowly, they start to drift away. They can't afford to become so attached, to show just how vulnerable they truly are, to rely on you with their darkest, deepest secrets. Unfortunately for them, it's not that easy.

"... Huh? Ah, sorry, I was just soooo caught up in my editing yesterday that I missed our shopping trip! Sorry, but can we put it on hold until this next song is released?... Huh?? What do you mean this isn't like me, just trust me, come on! I'm not THAT lazy..."

As time passes, it's not only harder to lie to you, but to themselves as well. Each day they spend away from you they think of you more, and more. Not only more, but they thoughts start to grow intense.

When they previously just thought about being happy with you, and being the best friend for you, now they wanted to watch over you so that you were always well, and safe.

So, still riddled with guilt and now even more so, they start to stalk you. First, it's just online, making sure you make the right friends, then it's more social, as they apologize for their behavior and resume hanging out with you, and slowly they start peering more and more into your personal life.

However, it wasn't of a desire to market you all theirs, they couldn't bear to take you away from what makes you happy, which they understood was socializing and being free, much like them. However, they wouldn't allow anyone to ruin your happiness.

Mizuki couldn't lie to themselves, they were completely and absolutely in love with you now, but someone like them, riddled with insecurities, lies, and identity issues, wouldn't be enough to make you happy, much less as a lover.

However, that doesn't mean they would remain just a friend... In fact, while they looked at you and felt such conflicting emotions in their heart, whenever they looked at others behind their backs, they didn't even notice their suspicions, paranoia, and wariness rising.

"Hey, you remember that girl that asked for help to study two days ago? How do I know about her- that doesn't matter! What's important, is that she's hanging out way too much with the popular girls! Yeah, you know what that means, be careful!"

If they could only be friends, that means they'll be the best friend they can be: Protecting you from people with bad intentions, helping you make your decisions, making your life brighter each day they possibly could. It doesn't matter whether their need for love hurts even worse every time they're called a friend...

It's not long before every single one of your days is influenced by them, be it getting new friends and letting go of others, changing your daily routines, and spending almost every single hour of the day in constant contact with them.

However, it doesn't matter how many times you chat with them now, as opposed to their earlier behavior, you can't help but feel like something's off... Their movements are more intense, their voice as well, yet they only want to talk about you, and shrug off any other friends they mention quickly...

This isn't easy for Mizuki, they love you so much, so much it hurts to be far from you. But they can't love you like you deserve, they shouldn't be the only one. They'll just keep an eye over you, lead you down the right path, keep you safe.

[beantothemax]

This au is a parasite on my noggin....

What a small girl. She looked weaker than any kid Godot had ever seen. Dark bags under her eyes and she was a mess. Her hair was supposedly straight but after days of hiding in bushes and hardly surviving at all, he didn't blame her for her hair resembling a rat's nest.

And gods, she shouldn't even have been there. She should have been with a family member being cared for by loving hands, not at her papa's trial. Such a young child, she had done nothing to deserve that.

Of everyone in the office, the girl seemed to fear Godot most. Again, he couldn't blame her. His mask was odd and he wasn't the most friendly looking man out there.

Still, it was important she trusted him. Hesitantly, he removed his mask and lay it aside. The world was a horribly dark blur without it, but he could tolerate not seeing for just a little bit, just long enough to talk to her.

He knelt in front of her chair, carefully grabbing one of her hands.

"Are you ready, Elena?" he asked as carefully as he could.

"No," her tiny voice squeaked.

"It will be okay, lady Clarissa will hold your hand and she'll stand next to you. No one can hurt you up there."

"What about Harvey?"

"There's twenty guards and Clarissa is just as good at magic as your papa, they'll all protect you and you won't even get scratched!" Godot smiled as he said it.

He could only hope his words had calmed her for he could not see her face. He sat beside her and she asked every question she could think of about the trial.

Will they listen to me? What about papa? Would they take papa away? Can I hug papa?

"Why do you have a scar on your face?" she finally asked.

Oh. That.

Godot never done much to hide it for he never saw it himself, but it was still there. Just under his left eye, going diagonally up and ending at his hairline above his brow. He could only imagine it made him look scarier, but it wasn't as bad as that accursed mask.

"I knew a girl called Maya. She was very special, a lot like you. Someone tried to hurt her, but I protected her," he explained.

"So they hurt you instead?" Elena muttered.

Not because it was him specifically, but she wasn't wrong.

"Yes, they did. But I survived and I'm fine now, and what's more important is that Maya is too!" he smiled.

Elena stayed silent for too long. He wanted so desperately to now if he had said something wrong but the accursed poison that ruined his eyes couldn't make an exception just this once. He was left wondering.

"Will they hurt lady Clarissa?" she whispered.

Who knows. It was anyone's guess really. She might get hurt shielding Elena or Harvey might try to kill her for being so close to Osvald. Perhaps even the townspeople might hurt her, thinking she was an accomplice to the crime, whatever it was. There were so many ways lady Clarissa could get hurt.

"They won't. I'll make sure you both come out unscathed, I promise," he said firmly.

...

...

...

Again, that dammed unreadable silence. How he cursed Dahlia, cursed the day she took not only his years of his life but his appearance. He once looked normal, he once had eyes that didn't need a mask to see. Once, what felt like a lifetime ago, he did not scare people by merely existing.

...

"You're right. No one will hurt us if they know how strong you are!" Elena said, an odd sound at the end of her sentence.

A chuckle.

She wasn't scared.

The door opened and a guard ushered them inside the courtroom. Dozens of spectators watched their every move as they entered. Godot took his place, and with his mask back on, he could see Elena and Clarissa wait by the entrance. She held her head up high and tightly clutched Clarissa's hand. What a brave young girl she was, not daring to show how scared she was in a court of law.

...

He absolutely could not get the guilty verdict, no matter what it cost. Elena didn't need to be strong, she needed her papa.

TURNABOUT SCHOLARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

elena being so brave entering the courtroom…godot taking off his mask when he talks to elena so she isn’t scared…….. weh,,,,,,,,,, pie the power you now hold with being able to write about godot now……

[verathion]

domus

It's been years since Daphne last step foot in Baldur's Gate, and if there's one thing she hasn't missed, it's the pomp and circumstance. When something big happens in the Gate, the patriar families have to compete as they always do--and now, their competition extends to Daphne, her companions, and who can celebrate their victory over the Absolute the best.

Awful.

The fake smiles, the empty praises. She hates it all. Maybe it isn't as false as she thinks; maybe some of them are genuinely thankful. But, much like her friend Astarion's musings at the tiefling party after their assault of the Goblin Camp--she's not used to being a hero. She's not used to being in the limelight. The first party wasn't so bad; it was a much needed respite from their long and arduous journey to free themselves of that damned tadpole. But tonight? It's the seventh party hosted by a patriar family in a tenday, and if she has to hear one more praise, she may scream.

No, she is not the hero type. Once the novelty wears off, they'll go back to fearing her, hating her for her practice of necromancy, her dark magic. She'll be outcast yet again, not that she minds. Daphne is used to being on her own, walking to the beat of her own drum, exploring ancient ruins, speaking with the dead there. The way things used to be. The way things should be.

As she sits in the corner of the balcony at the manor house of her current party, she sighs. Maybe tomorrow she can slip away. She'll leave a note for her friends. They'll understand--they know she's not made for this life. They know she's not a fan of being in the Gate. Suddenly, her thoughts are interrupted when she hears footsteps behind her. Her upper lip curls into a snarl, annoyed that someone deems it their right to disturb her moment of peace, but when she turns, her face slackens when she sees Rolan standing there.

"Oh," she says, turning back towards the balcony railing, looking out towards the nighttime skyline of the city. "It's you."

Rolan huffs an indignant laugh, tilting his head with a grin. The tiefling wizard's tail sways curiously behind him as he looks her over: huddled in a corner, trying to hide herself behind a particularly large planter. It's odd, seeing her like this; he's so used to her heroism, her bravery in the face of danger--seeing her cowering is something else indeed.

"This seems familiar," he says to her back. "Except, last time, I was in your position, I was inebriated, and we were in Moonrise surrounded by the shadow curse."

Daphne groans. "I'm not in the mood for banter, Rolan." She says quietly. She slips her legs through two slots in the railing, her feet hanging freely in the air as she hugs the balusters close, pressing her face into the cool, smooth granite.

"Clearly," he says, approaching her slowly. "I couldn't help but notice you disappeared. I wanted to make sure you were alright, is all."

"I'm quite alright," Daphne answers his inquiry. "In fact, I'm better than ever now that I'm here, alone, on this balcony. Well, I was alone. It appears I am no longer."

Rolan puts two hands up in mock surrender, waving them gently to dismiss her bristly words. "I'll make my leave. I know when I'm not wanted."

Daphne groans again, turning her gaze over her shoulder before telling him quietly, "You can stay, if you must. Just, please, for the love of all that is good, don't wax poetic about my skills."

"You know I won't do that," Rolan smirks as he makes his way over, sitting next to her, mimicking her position as he slips his legs between the balustrade, dangling his feet next to her. "I am far more skilled than you."

"Ah. Much better." Daphne shakes her head with a soft grin. "You can officially stay."

The two of them sit in quiet contemplation for a time: Rolan wondering what to say, and Daphne savoring the comfort of it. The lull of the muffled noise from the party inside sounds like a distant thunder, and Daphne smiles to herself when she can hear Gale laugh above it all.

"Does it feel good?" Rolan asks. "Not the praise--clearly, you have a disdain for that. Being home, I mean."

Daphne mulls her lip at his question, a low, uncomfortable groan bubbling in her throat as she wrestles whether or not to be honest with him. Her lips stretch into a small grimace, and she hisses when she decides to be vulnerable.

"No," the half-elf answers. "This place has not been my home in some time. I left for Candlekeep after my..." she pauses, the words stuck in the back of her throat, unwilling to be said, "husband passed."

Rolan's eyes widen for a moment, but he quickly recovers, trying not to look too surprised at the revelation. He leans back, resting his palms on the cold stone of the balcony as he continues to listen, saying nothing. Daphne sighs, head hanging between her shoulders as she relents, and tells him more.

"We were young and dumb," she continues. "And in love, I suppose. I was selling scrolls at a booth in Wyrm's Crossing, and he was a member of the Fist, and would patrol the area during the day. He'd always stop to talk to me and ask me how business was going. It took me weeks to realize he never asked any other vendor the same question.

"The next thing I knew, we were married. Had a little flat in the Lower City. He was a good, good man. An honorable man. Oh, how proud he would have been to see me like this. Hero of Baldur's Gate. But as any member of law enforcement, he made enemies. Busted a group of slavers operating in the caverns under Rivington. They didn't like that, you see. Made a house call to voice their grievance. Killed him, nearly killed me. The survivor's guilt weighed heavily on me. Especially when--"

She stops herself, looking at him with a gaze of shame, her golden eyes wet for a moment, but then she takes a deep breath and quells the emotion. Perhaps she will keep that last bit to herself.

"Well," she mutters. "Enough about that. My grief was all encompassing. Unbearable. Everything around me reminded me of him. The sun, the smells, the sounds, the people. I had to leave. So I did. Isolated myself in Candlekeep for five years. That's where I wrangled myself into a position with the Antiquities Guild. Now that I'm back? Everything still reminds me of him. And I hate it."

Rolan sighs through his nose as he processes her story. For a moment, his amber eyes look up to the sky, and then back to her.

"I don't know if I could ever go back to Elturel." He begins, trying to find some common ground to relate to her story. "It's home, surely, and we can't go back, as it is. But after everything that's happened...I wouldn't want to. It's tainted, gone. I suppose that's why I was so adamant to reach the Gate, to start my apprenticeship with Lorroakan, despite his reputation. I wanted security for Cal, Lia and I. I wanted a new home for us. And I wanted no one to ever question it again."

Daphne turns her head towards him, resting her head against the balusters again as she looks up at him.

"No one is more deserving, after all you've been through," she gives him a half smile. "I am glad you have found your new home."

"And you?" Rolan asks. "Is Candlekeep your home? Will you go back?"

Daphne lets out a long sigh, leaning back to mimic his position. Her fingers tap on the stone beneath her as she mulls over his question.

"I don't think of it as my home, no. Will I go back? Probably. I haven't exactly decided. Though, if I get another invitation to a party, I will simply vanish. I can't do it again, Rolan." She jests. "But, in all seriousness...I do have to eventually return. I have obligations to my guild, after all."

"Right, right." Rolan nods. "Antiquities. Ancient ruins and tombs and artifacts and all of that."

Silence falls between them again, both of their eyes drawn to the stars above. Both of them have words on the tips of their tongues, but struggle if they should say it. After an agonizing moment, Rolan finally speaks, his hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Well," he begins. "You are always welcome at Ramazith's Tower."

It's all he can muster to say, though the words have weight to them--a hidden promise between the margins. Daphne tilts her head over to him once more, giving him a half-smile. She can read between the lines.

"Thank you," she says. "I'll keep that in mind."

[spacecadetspe]

Oct. 11, 2023

I've been unable to post much at all this week, though a good deal has happened. I'll try to make updates where I can, but again, LiveJournal has some accessibility issues where I am just now. I'll likely post catch-up articles later today or tomorrow.

Recently my conversations with Fortitude have attracted a bit of an audience. It's usually Phantasos, who loves a bit of fun, but over the past couple of days it's been his uncle, Thanatos. He scares my dog, but he's a genuinely kind person with a gentle heart. I adore him and his wife, and have the occasional honor of wielding his scythe "Destiny."

Such was my duty this past Sunday. Honestly, I don't have much of a problem with reaping souls. I know where they go and how they are treated, and the options given to them during their stay. I wonder, then, if Thanatos gave me his scythe and his list in order to pose a test for me.

The first was an aging former mercenary who was spending his final days in hospice under palliative care.

"You must have come for me," he said. He showed no fear of death; after all, why should he?

"How did you know?"

"I have no family, no remaining friends. There are no names on my guest list. And yet you are the one who comes for each of us." He gave a rasping laugh under his breath. "I figured you'd be skeletal and wear some black hooded robes."

He knew I was an otherworldly entity, but when he called me Death I had to correct him. "Ah, but I am not Death. I am Hope, and Death is one of my most cherished friends. But yes, Thanatos likes the dramatic effect. He's quite handsome, though, without it. You should see him in board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt."

He chuckled. "Death on vacation; what will they think of next?"

I pulled him from his body and together we watched his old form flatline.

"So what happens now?" he asked.

"You pay the ferryman and you cross over."

"I have nothing to pay him with." So I handed him an emerald with which to pay Charon. He examined it a moment, and then asked, "What good is treasure to this ferryman?"

"He's one of the richest beings in the Underworld. His castle rivals that of Hades, himself."

The mercenary stepped into the boat, and they were gone.

The second was a pair of infants with SIDS. I gently scooped them from their cradles and left their mothers with some solid advice and blessed each of the babes before I handed them off to Makaria in Elysium.

"Hope!" she exclaimed. "This is quite the change of heart." She took the babies into her arms.

"It was never about death," I replied. Then, after some thought, I added "and... I think you knew that too."

The third mark was a junkie, a lost former goddess of unknown origin. She no longer knew who she was, but she knew it was over. I gave her insight; she had her own baetylus in her pocket to give to Charon. I bade her follow me, and left her with the ferryman.

The last was a journalist from somewhere in the center of Africa. He was being executed for ruining the reputation of a prominent (corrupt) politician. His executioner asked him if ruining the life of another man was worth dying for.

I supplied him with his final answer. "It was worth it to liberate the men in his chains."

The man looked at me and knew.

I smiled. "It gets ugly after this. Do you want to skip this part?"

He twitched once, and I guided him from his body before the executioner began cutting out his tongue. He watched, horrified, from a short distance away, as his life came to an end; too shocked to feel any pain at all.

"They'll be saying your name in every house for months," I said.

The journalist glanced at me, and then looked down. "He was a bad man. Horrible."

"I believe you. And one day, I'll come for him too."

He gave Charon a coin, and off they went.

I thought that might be the end of it, but oh, I was wrong. Phantasos came to me the next day to run errands (or that's what he called it, at least). He had a package to pick up at the Nailsmith's; a pair of gauntlets inlaid with mati eyes that would blink when they focused on something. He was planning on using them to close the rifts in reality that Njorun had been opening in her distress.

Don't think for a moment that I didn't see her name on Thanatos' list. He's been after her for a long time. And he takes the long walk with everyone eventually.

Njorun was quarantined in her suite at the infirmary. They let me know right away that she wasn't stable, as if that weren't completely obvious. But I sat down with her, and the scythe appeared, unsummoned.

"What do you want from this?" I asked. "Is this how you want it to be from now on?"

She glanced over at the scythe.

"What do you think?" I asked.

She was quiet for a moment longer, and then she softly asked "What do I tell my kids, Hope?"

"The truth. And not the sugar-coated kind either."

"How do I make them understand, when I don't?"

"Do you want me to help?"

She sniffed and forced a laugh. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that? By killing me?"

"Is living like this better than dying?"

She had no retort, for once.

I leaned back and crossed my legs. "But you know... I'm the Wisdom of the Ages. That means you have options... and answers, if you want them."

She paused. "Hope..."

I harrumphed. "Finally, someone calls my name."

Njorun's voice rose with desperation. "How does this not affect you? How has it not made you cold? Do you even feel it anymore?"

I raised my eyebrows at her. "Of course I do. If you'd seen me in Zoe's office after the incident, you'd have known that. I was a wreck. I wondered what the point of me being here was if nobody bothered to call me when they needed me."

She considered this, and then her eyes welled with tears. "I needed you," she sobbed. "I needed you, and I never called..."

I nodded. "A familiar plight." I went on with what she needed to know: that the infirmary's policy had been changed so that no more children would be handed over to Thanatos during the trials.

She thanked me, and then asked "So what now?"

"Well," I said, rocking my head to one side, "not all of you has to die."

She looked at me like I had an extra head. "What do you-... You mean like an aspect or some shit?"

"Yeah. Still counts."

"So what do I do?"

I explained that removing an aspect was all about isolating parts of yourself that you don't want anymore and letting them go.

"Can I still fuck shit up?" she asked.

I laughed. "Trust me, babe. You'll have to."

She smiled, and then thought a while longer. "Then... I don't think I like this 'me' anymore," she said, almost hopefully.

"Good. Then let her go."

"How?"

I scoffed. "What is this 'how' nonsense? You know my magic better than that."

"Your magic..." She thought for a moment longer, and then nodded and looked up at me. "Hope... I trust you."

"That's my favorite bitch." I reached into her chest and pulled out the rogue aspect. I held her by the hair, forced her to the floor, and picked up the scythe. I said the ancient chant so familiar to Thanatos... and the rifts in reality stopped forming. Her life force piled into my hand like a handful of suds. And suddenly, it was over, and the rest of Njorun's soul slept.

Phantasos summoned Charon with a horn that is sacred to Hades (wouldn't tell us how he got it, except that it was fairly bartered). I swear, the things people will do for some good sleep.

One of these days, I'll get Hades to drink from the flask that Bacchus got him. The old stick-in-the-mud could use it.

[scatteredraysofhope]

okay so I've wanted to respond to this for a while but yeah I ended up going on a huge self reflecting rant soo um if you want to skip to the end that's cool 😅

okay so um the thing is it happens mostly when im just put on the spot like being called to answer, giving presentations, or reading out loud.

Like it takes me a few second to be able to speak and even if I am able to, my voice literally will become so quivery against my will like im about to cry (im not exaggerating at all) one time I actually did cry durring a presentation. And my body will physically shake and my knees will woble at its worst. It sounds like im joking but im not. This happens even if I practiced the speech/line I had to say a hundred times before hand.

I hate drawing attention to myself in class in anyway. Even asking to go to the bathroom durring class if I get my period now feels like a nightmare and I usually avoid it which is so stupid because it should be completely normal. It shouldn't be that hard but feels impossible for me. After coming back to school for the first time after covid (durring which i got my period) I literally bled on the seat. And used a sweater to cover it and cleaned it at the end of class so no one noticed but yeah.

Even parent teacher meetings I've always gone completely silent. Like the thought of multiple people who im not comfortable with hearing my voice makes me unable to speak. Also the thought of not knowing what to say. Like an adult will be like "speak. Speak. Just talk Normally!" But them putting that pressure on me literally paralyses me. Because im like what do you want me to say??? What do you expect me to say??? This is soooo akward i want to die. Stop looking at me. I don't know what you expect from me. What am I supposed to say??? So I end up with this looking confused and scared with my mouth open but no words coming out. And even when I do try to speak both in public and at school, I end up speaking really quietly specially if there are other people around and I don't want to draw attention to myself. And it's involuntary. But it's literally impossible for me to speak louder. Like my fear prevents me.

So yeah I'm not sure because sometimes I speak really quietly and sometimes I can force myself to speak but it will be so quivery. But most of the time I just stay silent. It takes a lot for me to feel comfortable around everyone and even if there is one person on the group I'm not comfortable around I won't be able to speak at all. I also usually resort to facial expressions and gestures, when put on the spot in front of the class. Cause I know my voice won't be loud enough. And them they'll ask me to repeat it again and again and I'll just feel like dying on the inside.

Okay I'm really sorry. I ended up going on a huge rant about a lot of things and tbh I just wanted to get it all out there cause I've never really talked about it before. In terms of selective mutisim besides social anxiety. But yeah feel free to ignore it all ^^;

Ooh what's happening next week??

And I definetly agree self acceptance is really hard. And yeah I can understand what you mean by saying it's ruined your life. It's definitely hurt my life in too many to count especially. I guess someone who struggles or is unable to speak is just not seen as socially acceptable?? and it's hard to get people to understand that you don't choose to be this way. Sometimes I worry that I make people uncomfortable when I act nervous or 'weird' around them. But I've found a few people that I can be myself around without the fear that I'll be misunderstood and I find myself able to talk more and more freely around them.

Thanks... I've decided to take my time with the figuring everything out. I think a lot of my experiences were also due to rock bottom self esteem. But Im at a much better place now mentally and I'm hopeful that I can improve when I go to college!!

Again you can talk about your experiences as well!! (If you want to and you feel comfortable doing so)

dude i was just reading your bio and i saw you said you might be selectively mute and omg me too !

Ohh wow really :0

Yeahh I don't know for sure but from what Ive read Im pretty sure I do have it. I always thought I just had social anxiety but yeah. At this point im pretty sure my problems are a bit more severe? To the point where in some situations where I not comfortable, I actually become unable to speak against my will (like i feel kind of paralyzed by my own anxiety). And especially for that reason I find it difficult to make friends irl besides a few people I feel comfortable around. It really sucks sometimes but yeah. I'm trying to work on it... but I also think self acceptance is important too. I don't know im still figuring it out.

You can tell me about your experiences as well! Ive never really met anyone to relate to much on this front so this is nice ^^;

[mrsmarymorstan]

except that’s not what derry girls is about and there’s even an interview in the new york times this week relating to that?? derry girls is about violence being so routine and normalized that it’s unremarkable to the characters.

I just woke up so this might be rambly but a show can be about multiple things. And whilst you are correct in that part of the story is about war being so normalised they don't even think about it as out of the ordinary, part of that is also that life continues to go on even in the darkest of times.

Derry Girls is a comedy. One of the first jokes is everyone complaining about being late to work because the IRA are trying to blow up a bridge.

In the early series we see this happen again with the finales. The day they all stand up with Orla and dance on the stage and affirm their friendship is the same day of a fatal bombing. Their happy and smiling, but somewhere out there there's a parent mourning the loss of their child and they will go home and learn the news and cry. But it works the other way around too. The day they get totally embarrassed in front of the whole school, where they have red paint/pig blood poured all over their outfits which they CAN'T return now even though they paid for them on their Mam's credit card is the same day as the IRA ceasefire. They'll go home miserable and fearful of their parents reaction and learn this amazing life saving news!

And yeah, those two ARE related to war, but they're still about life being a balance of good and bad at the same time.

My post in question in fact has nothing to do with war. Because, life continues to happen no matter where you are. That hierarchy of needs is bullshit, just because you can't have safety from violence doesn't mean you can't have glitter eyeshadow and movie marathons with your friends.

My post in question (and spoilers for S3) is about how the day of Clare's first kiss with a girl is the same day her father dies. One thing that is beautiful and exciting and a life affirming! The next is shattering, life destroying and the greatest pain Clare has experienced so far. It was also, random. They live in a war zone and the thing that takes him is his own big, loving heart.

We see Gerry going through the turmoil of needing to tell the girls about Clare's Dad but not wanting to ruin their last few moments of joy at this VIP event!

So I say again, one of the things that Derry Girls shows is that life is not a series of linear events. The best and the worst parts of your life can and will happen at the same time. We don't live within a cozy narrative, things are complicated and ongoing and messy as all hell. That's okay, that's how it should be and that's why you have to take every moment as it comes, because you don't know what moment may be your last. Be it from a bomb, or your own heart. Either way it hurts.

[jovnie]

The king's arrogance | Namjoon

Summary

The King had knowledge on everything and one in his castle, however he knew nothing of the kingdom he ruled before him. That was till one day he left and found you a street merchant.

Words 5k

Namjoon king au! Reader civilian!

Warnings: fluff, cocky joon, medium amount of smut, mentions of parent death, creampie, oral ( female ), big-dick Joon, nonconsensual touches, creampie, rough sex, lot of plot. Very quick relationship.

I beg that you listen to The mary go round from the moving castle [ slowed ] when reading. I think you'll enjoy it even more with it in the background.

Namjoon sat on the throne, laid back and legs spread apart as a servant read him his to-do list for today.

"Well sir, today starts the month planning of the ball. We have a few colors I'm sure you'll enjoy, however, I'm sorry to inform you that the family members that shouldn't be named threatened third way onto the guest list" the man spoke in fear, nodding and sighing namjoon dismissed the servant with talks of the guest later.

"Mrs. Pot is the tea almost ready?" He asked kindly as the elder Korean lady nodded with a bright smile. Smiling softly, the older lady pinched his cheeks softly.

"I still remember when you were a baby and your late parents running you from tea session to tea session. Oh, how I'm sure you miss them as much as I " her smile faded, as she poured the tea on the table in front of him.

"I do, it's been 18 years now. Since I was 10 I believe, so right 18 years. I'm sure they would've loved to taste this freshly poured tea once again" he reassured, rubbing her back and once done taking a sip with her.

"I'll make sure to clean the alter table later and pour some tea with them" she smiled delicately, as took a drink of her tea.

That was right this year would make it the 18th anniversary of his parent's passing ever since the flood. It was heartbreaking, as his eyes dimmed in sadness the older lady pinched his cheek as he smiled with a tear down his cheek.

"Now don't go soft on me Namjoon, you have to stay strong for those who can't and I know it all hurts. But they'll be watching you like garden spirits. I know your mother is very proud and your father knowing how much a man and a king you have become. Now I have to go, it's time for me to go tend the gardens. Goodbye joonie" she waved, after collecting the empty teacups snd pots. Watching her wheel everything away, namjoon felt comforted by her words and took a deep breath before getting up and moving on with his day.

He spent the day testing and looking at fabrics, color swatches, and paper samples. The ball, gala, or celebration was very important for the kingdom. They only three one when it was important and this time it was a celebration of life once lived aka his parent's death date. September 4th. This day celebrated life and death, just like fall. He loved the metaphor behind it and hated how true love ended so quickly in his eyes. However he too wishes to be able to die with the one he loved dearly by his side, he hated how romantic it sounded and how bad he wanted it. Love wasn't an easy game and not once could he find someone who commented with him in a deep, if not spiritual way.

Itching the back of his head, he walked on and into his room. He had another busy schedule ahead of him. Sometimes he just wished he could live amongst the people for a day. That's what he'll do. Looking around for his leather satchel, he put together what he called a commoners bag. A bag that contained money, an id, and a diary. Looking around for clothes that seemed passable for a commoner and changed into them. From there he grabbed his stuff and snuck his way out of the Castle through the bag. He made sure Mrs. Pot knew where he was just in case this would get him in trouble. After all, the family would show up unexpectedly most of the time and he had people watch his every move as well.

Making sure his hat covered all of his hair, he walked into the street lights and found a carriage ride who was going home or into the city. He paid the guy and let him into the buggy and the city.

Namjoon did this for a weak till he knew the ropes of running out of the kingdom St night, he tried his best to avoid getting caught with the knight guards and the pesticide workers who showed nd yelled deals in his face. He also learned patience along with that, another valuable lesson needed as a king or so he was taught.

One night he went into a low-lit bar with entertainers. Majory we're female and drove the men in the room wild. He's had his fee share of women, but not when it came to this level. He found it charming and often sent gifts to them for their hard work. From the kingdom's guards and not him personally. Still, he ordered rice wine snd some jerky, before leaving. leaving a lady much shorter than him, bumped into his shoulder.

"Guards there's the thrift!" A younger woman pointed, as the men ran after her. Wanting to know what was up, he walked up to the merchant and simply asked. You explained that the woman was a theft, they would steal all her family food at night to make their profit.

"I'm sure you can be more um what are these?" He asked, picking up the food he's never seen before.

"Fruit?" You questioned grabbing the lemon out of his hand. "Well shops closed sir, come back tomorrow and you can buy our lovely fruit," you said kindly, walking up the stairs in this wooden place. Following you, namjoon closed the door behind and also walked up. Namjoon didn't know much manners, but he had the basics for a king. However, to a common person like you, he was a pest, rude, etc.

"Um, what are you doing?" you asked folding sheets for your bed up.

"It's nighttime aren't you gonna ask me to stay and wait till morning?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I supposed. By the way, there's a futon bed over there. I'll make dinner soon then!" you welcomed, as namjoon looked ok confusion at what the blanket on the floor was trying to imitate. Taking off his shoes, he placed his bag on the 'futon' and hung his jacket and hat on the hanger by the door.

Arriving back you blushed hard, as a beautiful looking man was now clear in your view. Luckily for namjoon, you had no money to spend on papers like everyone else or let alone money to go to the balls either. Therefore you had no clue that this man was a noble, let alone the king. If you did you would've just died at how you just treated him.

"It's beef and seaweed soup, with carrots and onions" you listed off as you placed the bowl on the floor diner table. Placing a spoon and a napkin on the side, you forgot the drink. Walking away you grabbed him a cup and poured lemonade in, before walking back. On your arrival, you saw him going to town on the meal. He slurped and moaned as he complimented your cooking. Chuckling, you sat the glass of lemonade down and took the napkin to wipe his chin and cheek. Placing it down, you watched him continue and enjoy it. Although there was only enough for his, you still had something to eat. You simply had bread and butter with some lemonade as well.

It took him a bit to notice you didn't have a bowl which made him feel a bit guilty but instead handed her 30 ₩ which was a lot during that time. Not wanting to take it, he "accidentally " dropped it down your bra and smiled.

"Well it's late, we should sleep and then go out to shop for food and new clothes" the man spoke.

"I'm sorry but I don't know you, how do I not know you're not trying to kidnap me or steal or worse kill me!" You mentioned as the older man stripped off his shirt.

"You don't have to, just know ill help you and accept the gift" he spoke, pitting his clothes beside him.

"Excuse you, you don't come in someone's house and act like this. Do you even have manners?" You added in frustration.

"I paid you, it wasn't a gift. It was a payment and I can tell you've never gotten one" he snickered, laying on the futon snd taking your cover. Annoyed at the man, you crossed your arm as he mouth "you have a problem?"

"Yes, I do! What's your name to begin with?" You asked, laughing it off he closed his eyes.

"Surprised you don't know and it'll stay like that for a bit darling" he whispered, moving over he patted next to him. "Sleep with me"

"No! I don't sleep with strangers like that, unlike you I have honor " you mentioned, getting up to go change into something appropriate for bed. Once done, you came back and he was still in the same position as before.

"I think I demanded that. besides I can ruin this little shop of yours if you don't. " he threatened, looking at his nails snd then at her. Well dressed and groomed man, you could visibly see the power he likely had. This was your mother's business and you promised her you would take care of it. Saddened you laid down next to him and whispered "please don't, this is all I have left."

"So we're on the same page I believe, no?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Yes," he replied. She felt uncomfortable and annoyed at the fact she had to do this for a business. Let alone a man, then again the men weren't always so kind to the women here, most always. She sighed and just accepted it, as he covered the two up.

"Call me Joon, " be whispered in your ear. Nodding, his hands traveled up and down your wist. Coughing, he halted then stopped after finding a comfy place to lay his hand.

"Do you do this with every woman?" You asked, curious.

"Well the last time I had a woman in my arms, she tried to advance me in marriage" he mentioned, putting his neck in-between your shoulder and neck.

"I do however have experience If that's what your aim is?" He said softly.

"Not really, I mean if a stranger just threatened your job and made you do this. Along with inappropriate touching for people who just met, I'd believe you'd be the class below poverty. Not a king not noble" you told, unexpectedly holding his arm between your breast.

Noticing, namjoon's cheeks flushed red. Luckily the lantern. Was behind him and not in front, so she couldn't see. "Toché" he replied.

"However I can see you've had a bad experience with men hmm?" He asked, softly brushing his nose on her neck.

"So you're not around here I see, well yes every guy here is just shit. Rude snd ignorant as you" you huffed, as raised an eyebrow.

"I'll give you that, feminist huh. Cute, haven't met one till you" he smiled, intrigued. "It seems like I've violated it huh, touching you snd acting sloppy" he added, moving your hair out your face.

"Glad you noticed, now turn the candle out!" you demanded, closing your eyes. Doing just that, he then wrapped his leg around you snd kissed your cheek.

"Good night"

Morning came, as the two of you laid there comfortable in each other's embrace. With him being the first to wake up, he tapped your shoulder and you woke up soonly after him. Yawing and stretching, you made sure your hand hit him on purpose.

"Sorry," you said coy, as he rolled his eyes up and shrugged it off.

"So when's breakfast?" He asked, getting up as you realized he had just worn cotton briefs. One's that we're expensive and that added more mystery to him. Why was someone who could've been from a noble family be here and threatened for his stay? Then the thought of maybe it's all stolen.

"The time?" He asked waving his hands over your face as you realized you had zoned out.

"Sorry, we have to go get food and we can buy food at the square." You mentioned.

"Where's the bathroom?" He asked, you pointed to the medium-sized room across from him. The place was small and combined, so you could see the kitchen from the bed area and a mini living room. Nodding off he grabbed his clothes snd began using the pump to pump water into the bath.

"Don't use all the water!" You yelled.

"I can and make you join me" he yelled back, smirking.

"No ill make you get more water from the lake behind here" you replied, itching your hair.

"Don't you have to get more water anyways, less work" he mentioned, leaving the door open and sitting in the tub? This man was quite weird when it came to flirting, it somewhat seemed motherly and innocent. However on the other hand, overly sexual and mysterious.

"Fine" you huffed, striping and walking towards the tub. That's when that harsh look he had softened and turned into a stare. There you were in front of him, naked snd he took every moment to vies your body. He saw how thick your hair was and how curvy your body was. He liked that, he paid attention to how big your breast was and the fact it looked like you haven't trimmed in a week. Which meant you looked old enough for him to do special things with.

"How old are you?" he questioned.

"I love how you did all of this without asking' she rolled her eyes, trying to muster a pony 0tail with the length and thickness of her hair.

"Turning 20 next month!" she replied excitedly.

"28 next month as well" he replied, breathing out the air he had subconsciously kept in. Getting in, she sat in front of him, covering her chest with her knees.

"I can still see you!" he laughed, grabbing the soap from the tray. Washing his body first, he took his hands and spread her legs open and washed below and around her arms and chest.

"Open," he said, waiting. Opening your arms you rolled your eyes and he splashed you with water. "Manners young lady " he mentioned. Knowing he's right, you sighed. Your father once told you the same when he was alive and because of that "Joon" reminded you of your father a bit. He acted mature and young simultaneously.

Washing your arms and your thighs, you washed off the soap on his neck and took the plug out to drain the dirty water. Placing the soap down, he spread his legs open and you accidentally saw something you shouldn't have. Frightened and embraced, you blushed. Taking his hand and pushing your gaze to meet his. He smiled softly.

"It's fine, just don't get too threatened by it. I'm aware of the size," he mentioned, looking you in your eyes. Nodding, you this time pumped the water until it was all out. Cleaning the both of you, you couldn't help but feel shy snd flustered. He felt the same, only he knew how to hide it. But not everything he knew or wanted to hide.

He looked in your eyes, noticing a soft dismal look on you to which he replied with "tell me are you okay?" Thankful for the concern, you told him about your parents passing and the shop's importance to you was. He understood automatically and exchanged his parent's passing in less detail. He didn't think he'd meet with someone with such a familiar background as his, even if they were below Noble.

He took her hand and placed it on her chest. "They're here, I'm sure your mother would be proud of how you came out to be. So leave it at that" he smiles wildly, with his eyes closing shut a bit as he did. You were glad to hear that and he never thought that Mrs.pot's comfort would come in handy, but he's glad to say and share a similar message.

"Speaking of do you have an altar?" He asked gently, unplugging the water and helping you stand up. Nodding you pointed out the door to a small corner. He thanked you and grabbed both of you a towel. Getting dried and dressed you did your hair as he went over to pay the slightest respects. Smiling at how kind the gesture was, you walked over to the rack and tripped over your foot trying to hand him his stuff. You saw a journal fall out and your eyes met his.

"You're a journalist?" You questioned, fixing your dress and hair before getting up and handing his stuff.

"Yeah, not from here tho," he lied, dusting dirt from your shoulder. Nodding you both made your way down the stairs, as he took your hand. Noticing it, you smiled. You wondered why he was being nice to you all of the sudden, however, that all changed when a guard walked past by and he brought you to a kiss. Confused and his eyes waiting for them to go, you kissed back hesitantly. Letting go, you looked at him worried he shrugged it off and you walked him to the square.

Hand in Hand, you brought namjoon to the bakery. Looking around, he pointed out the most expensive bread on hand and paid. Thanking him, he leads your hand to the vendors outside. Lucky for you, he knew about gardening and what was good. He helped and taught you the basics snd you learned you've been scammed for years. Thanking him, you took him to a cart of flowers and smelled the fresh roses, looking up at him. He paid for the golden yellow rose bouquet. Now it was for his favorite part of the day, clothes shopping. But beforehand, he pulled you into a cafe.

"Two bags of your finest coffee," namjoon ordered, by now you shouldn't have been shocked at how much he could spend. But seeing him use more money than you've sent your entire life was a sight to see snd each time you were thankful. You had enough food and supplies to last week if not a month. Holding you close by him, you realized you warmed up to him and small gestures like that felt comforting to you. He noticed and did it more often.

Soon it was night and there was only, one dress store open. In there was a beige dress that sparkled in the shop's lights. Running to the window to look, you smiled. Feeling a hand on your back, he took a step in and pulled your hand in with him.

"Welcome to Gezels tailor and shop" the owner greeted. He was an older man with gray hair a fragile smile.

"Well take that dress in the window snd tailor it to her size. His much is it?" Namjoon asked, pulling his wallet for the last time today.

"₩ 10,000" the man spoke, paying upfront the older man invited you to the back room and told namjoon to stay upfront. Nodding, you walked ahead and namjoon sat in the chair. He had a diary to write about today's and yesterday's adventures. He started up about the bathtub time you shared snd imagined your body once again. If only he knew his to draw, he'd paint a pretty picture in the book. Soon after finishing his entry, you walked out with a note.

Note: the dress will be ready for you miss before dusk, come back tomorrow with your lover -Gezel tailor and shop

You handed it to namjoon and he read it, as the two walked out. Suddenly loud commotions of horses snd guards ran through the city with lights.

"The king's missing!" The horseman yelled into the square. Namjoon in a panic rushed you two into the forest nearby. Confused, but following him. You wondered if he had something to do with it, besides this wasn't the first time he ran away from the guards today.

"They can't find me or ill be in trouble, act like a lover, please. I'll pay you in gold when I can" he begged on his knees with his hat on his chest.

"Don't pay me, think of it as a token of my gratitude. I'll help, but you have to explain everything when we get back," you murmured, taking his hands and helping him out the dirt. Making you drop the food and his bag.

Suddenly, he gripped your body and jumped both of you in a lake as he heard the sounds of horses clamping. A sound you didn't even hear. Holding your head under the water, he waited for the light of the torch to leave the lake area before swimming the two of you up.

Taking deep breaths of air, the two of you swam to the doc snd he helped you up first before himself. Luckily, the food wasn't damaged. Frustrated, you grabbed the food and his bag as you walked home. Walking in, you kept the lights off snd went to the second floor.

Stripping you of your clothes snd placing the bags down, you watched him do the same. Forgetting you had to pump the water, he suggested he'd go do it and you nodded giving him directions snd within 30minutes he was done. Striping once again, he hugged your body to his chest. You soon felt tears on your neck and small crys, you rubbed his back snd just stood there till he let go.

"What's wrong?'" You asked concerned.

"I could've killed you!" he cried, remembering the look his mother gave him before dying in his arm. His father did the same thing to his mother, only on a ship in the middle of the sea. Hugging him, you rubbed his back and placed a kiss on his lips. Holding you to his chest, kissed you back, and laid back so your bare body laid on his.

"Let's wait to shower" he suggested, kissing your neck. Nodding your head no, he flipped you over on your stomach softly and trapped your legs with his. "Please?' He asked, leaning down on your level on the floor snd holding your chest in his hand. Agreeing, knowing what's about to happen you loosened up snd he turned you on your back.

His hands ran around your chest and thighs, leaning down to kiss your naked body as a slight moan came out. From there, he moved his lips to your mouth and softly moved yours to his hair. Taking note, you ran his fingers through his dark brown ones as the two of you danced with each other's tongue. Namjoon removed his lips snd traveled down south, gripping his hair in pleasure you moaned grinding your hips. Meanwhile, he took in a natural aroma, one he found arousing. Moving his tongue around the bud, he softly kissed your thighs leaving bruises.

Looking at your head tilting back snd eyes closed with heavy to light breathing. He took his pointer finger snd rubed softly in circles, moving his body to tower you with one arm. Noticing the shift of best around your neck, you felt his warm breath move down your neck and by your ear.

"Let me tell you something darling, I'm not who I say I am" he kissed around your neck, papering it in kisses. Hearing you moan, made him aroused by the minute. However he knew it was time to go back to the castle, only he wasn't going empty-handed. As your hands rubbed his back, he whispered "I'm Namjoon, they're looking for me, darling. Tonight the last night I can spend here so let's make it count" in a raspy tone.

In shock, he gave you a minute to calm down as he could hear your heart. "I'm sorry" he apologized.

"No need, but for whatever this may be for you. Just know I haven't done anything like this with anyone," you admitted. Humming he moved to the other ear and whispered "I like that, just know it will hurt after a few minutes snd then feel better or the pain could feel good!" he warned. Taking his warning, he gently rubed you as got on his knees and opened your legs wide. Watching as he did, you noticed he was fully erected at this point and ready. You closed your eyes snd tensed your muscles as he began to simply grind his tip into you.

He was right there was pain, which caused you to bleed a bit. However, it was enjoyable without a doubt. Soon he was able to put 6/9 inches in as he trusted slowly. Moaning under him, he moved his in circles biting his lower lip as looked at your fuller lips and leaned over and wrapped your legs around his waist. After a few moments of waiting for you to adjust, you thought about today snd how it was so obvious he was the king snd yet it flee by.

As you moaned loud, his thrusts began to speed up snd the two of you could hear the sounds of his hips banging into yours snd your ass as he went faster.

"Ah, baby!" He grunted, grinding into you deeply as your hands rubed into his hair. Morning louder, his lips conceded back to yours as you held on snd then to your neck where you heard his heavy breathing. Your body was tightening around him, as he went in deeper now putting himself in. Not to mention you began to pool around him which gave him more speed in the end.

"Namjoon!" You moaned in his ear, holding his back tightly as your legs unwrapped snd opened wider for him. Cursing under his breath, he went harder as you began to arch your bag in pleasure. He held onto your back as your head went backs and the build of pleasure built up quickly.

you held onto his muscular shoulders while he moved you closer to him to go deeper. With that sending you over the edge, you screamed his name in pleasure as yours and his breathing began to match in heaviness. Shopping for a second, namjoon looked you in your eyes and thrust slowly as he was too close and it felt too good.

"In close, but I don't wanna cum yet" he grunted, thrusting deeply in and out.

"Then cum when you can't hold it!" You urged, outta breathe enjoying the depends. "I'm fine with children" you explained. Nodding, he continued and went harder this time.

His mouth roamed your chest, sucking and pulling on the bud as your back arched and mouth open in response. You this time, grinded back cgroundhim to jolt forward and start panting.

"Fuck don't do that unless you-" you interrupted doing it again. Pushing your legs back and open wide he started hammering into you as you began screaming in both pleasure and slight pain. You scratched his back and he immediately let go of your thighs snd pushed your hands back. As your body began to shake under him, he went faster as his chest heaved in breathing and yours became flushed with red. He started to let his enjoyment show more and tilted his head back with his eyes close as he went faster. He allowed the sounds of your whimpering snd moans to fulfill his urge as his balls smack your body hard causing a loud moan to come out from him.

Moving his hips to go at a slightly different angle than before, he noticed you started dripping more and more causing your heat to became more and more pleasurable on his end. He leaned down to your chest and held you as he began moaning in ecstasy as a thick load covered your walls in white.

Stoping and catching his breath, he mouthed something so simple but daring and that was simple.

"Don't leave me"

To which you replied softly. "I won't"

Soon the both of you gained the energy to get in the tub. There you two conversate on what it was like for him to be the king and all, what he planned on doing, and where he wanted to do next.

"Please come back to the castle with me tonight?" He begged, holding his hands with yours.

" I don't wanna be a drag" you looked down.

"You won't, I promise you'll enjoy your new life" he stated happily as ever.

"Namjoon don't you think it's too fast, we just met and all." You mentioned.

"Right, that is an undeniable truth. However, I know you felt the same way I did snd I know this isn't a fairy tale. But I truly feel like we could have a life" he spoke, holding your hands to his chest. Yes, that was true, you did believe in fate snd everything. But this was soon and so much.

"I'll go, but you have to let me have the ability to leave, " you said sadly, bring you to his chest he nodded and turned your body around in the tub.

From there you two did what was needed and packed a small bag of hygiene snd the coffee from earlier to go. You two had to walk back to the castle without being seen or heard at all. Which called for a few close times of being caught, from there he showed you a secrete gate entrance that led straight towards his room. From there, he tried his best to pick you up and take you to his room. there which Mrs. Pot sat praying

"I'm home and I brought a guest" he mentioned putting you down. As she recognized Mrs. Pot, she immediately went to hug her.

"It's been a while, my dear, I remember when you were both sized. I see you ran into the king, ah I knew he would've found you. I mean he's always had an eye on elegance and beauty" she mentioned embracing you tightly and pinching her cheek the same way she did with namjoon.

"I'll tell the guards your home" she looked at namjoon winking. Itching his head as he smiled, he turned to you and stripped naked again.

This time he leaned on the top of you again and you immediately kissed back. "It's a yes" you knew immediately as he took off your clothes once again that same night. Only this time, he focused on filling you up till he couldn't anymore.

"Fuck, this is amazing" he cursed, moving his hips harder as you who was behind sensitive began moaning his name louder and louder. Your legs opened wider and pools of arousal soaked the bed, making him lose control once more in you before pulling you close and moaning in your neck. Spilling once more, he simply uttered

"I love you"

"I love you too"

[jafndaegur]

Things Said and Unsaid

Jumin Han x MC

Mystic Messenger

a/n: now that the zine is long past, here is my story from the Garden of Eden Zine:) Enjoy!

Jumin twisted the flower stem between his fingers as he reclined further against the chair. Waxy pink petals mocked him in a way that he did not appreciate and the bright bloom weighed heavily, leaning forward in his careless grasp. He rested his chin on the back of his free hand, temple twitching at the not-quite perfect amount of wine for a buzz but enough for a headache. 

MC's voice still floated in the air as if she'd just called about her final report for the RFA event.

"All of the flower arrangements are ready for the party," her voice was stilted over the phone even as she tried to be chipper.

Jumin wondered if she felt uncomfortable around him with everything said and done. "They'll look beautiful I'm sure." He reassured. 

The pause and silence between them felt unnatural and constricting.

"What did you pick? For the bouquets." He finally peeped out, his voice rocking with concern. Had they always struggled with communicating? The memory of being able to freely converse with her, speaking of any little trivial thing that came to mind an easy and amusing way for him to pass the time. Surely he hadn’t ruined things so thoroughly during the time she had spent at the penthouse.

MC’s airy and pitched laugh reached his ears in a painful display of her discomfort. "That'd ruin the surprise."

And what a surprise it'd been.

Jumin had been eager, and even anxious, in awaiting her arrival to the party. Afterall they all owed its renewed existence to her. And he himself owed so much to her too. When they had parted the night before, V rightfully helping her return to the apartment, it had been with a tender apology. She'd embraced him—held him close and promised things would work out the way they should.

He wasn’t sure if it had been a lie or her convincing herself. Perhaps some odd adherration of both to her conviction.

The day of the party came, but MC did not.

It was obvious that Seven had hesitated his journey before finally making the reluctant trek to Jumin with a piece of paper in one hand and a tied bouquet of flowers in the other.

The pink camellia had seemed so bright and vibrant in the light of the ballroom. And even now in Jumin's hand, standing stark and vibrant, the bloom dazzled against the rest of his muted parlor decor. It smiled and flourished, and yet here he sat more dejected and more confused than ever.

Somehow, he managed his way back to the kitchen, where the rest of his  bouquet lay abandoned on his dining room table—scattered petals and bulbs strewn across the wood top due to his careless toss of the bunch. He had been angry and frustrated at the time, but now he felt guilt tugging at the span of his ribs when he thought of the disregard he gave to her last gift to him. The note lay innocently next to it, as if trying to appease him with the gentle slope of MC's handwriting.

I've meant everything Jumin. Said and unsaid. I don't regret anything and I hope you won't either. But we both need this to move forward, I think this is what's right...I hope you'll see that. I've left you the best.

-MC

Among the flowers, pink carnations were the easiest to pick out. The petals crimped and wavy, and the blossoms themselves the most commonplace and plain. And yet MC had made sure the flowers had stayed nestled close amongst bushels of goldenrod. Another odd pick for a formal party. His eye for detail made things easy to recognize that beautiful hardworking and problem-solving touch MC made with every  deliberate and precise choice. He knew that much. From the sorrel that warmly held everything together, to the pink camellias blushing prettily at the center wrapped in forget-me-nots.

In times such as these Jumin realized he had one consultant he could count on, a source where information passed easily from itself to him. Where he could learn unhindered and without bias about the best that MC left behind for him. Because surely, she did not simply mean the best flowers from the bunch. She was too clever for that.

He found himself at a library, in the area with the farmer's almanacs and horticulture how-tos. It was an aisle he frequented when seeking answers to inquiries about his vineyard. 

Heavy and cumbersome, he found an encyclopedic tome titled Whispers from the Flowers. It was an odd name but upon opening it he found satisfaction knowing that his assumption on its topic had been correct. The flower language. Something not in a million years he imagined himself researching. But for MC, he would do anything. And his beloved left behind one very, very important clue. "Things said and unsaid." And he hoped it was more than a mere sentimental way of saying she left him behind regardless of whether or not she was able to relay all she wished to. 

Jumin found the index at the back of the book, searching for sorrel first. MC had meticulously ensured that the green and stringy plant entwined itself around the main bouquet like a cradle. It was hardly a flower and yet the vibrancy of it added life and color outside of the thematic pink hues of the other blooms. Affection. Sorrel is the gateway to confessions and the key to unlocking the heart—it lays bare the raw and pure emotion of those who offer it. His fingers danced over the words, tracing the letters with the faintest of smiles. MC's disappearance seemed like a rather large lack of said-affection, but he knew there had to be further explanation. And all answers resided within the little puzzle she had set aside just for him.

Because she knew and understood he had every capability to solve it. He hoped.

Encouragement. Good fortune. Goldenrod offers the same blade with two edges. One of well wishes and the other of outstretched hands. It is an easy flower to convey both farewells and prosperity. 

Jumin’s breath curled within his chest and his fingers hovered. “Farewells.” It was a mutter, something that he dare not speak more than a whisper.  MC left behind hide nor hair of her existence. The memory of her laugh and gilded eyes were the only proof he could offer. Yet somewhere amongst the agonizing pull in his chest as he read the summary over and over again, he feared that she had truly meant her goodbye hidden within these flowers. 

He knew his own faults had greatly weighed upon her decision to leave with Jihyun that day. But had he really ruined things so much that she chose never to see any of them again to escape him? Were all affections between them nullified because of his shortcomings.

Breath hitched and his fists clenched the book. Memories of true love. Forget-me-nots are the staple flower of sweet love. Anyone gifting their sweetheart with these iconic blooms know every moment spent with their true love will be cherished and treasured. Jumin’s brow furrowed. Contradictory. This was all so illogical and contradictory. If he had not just recently gone through a week-long anxiety attack and now the loss of the woman he had planned to propose to, he’d chalk these meanings up to happenstance and throw the book into the closest recycling bin. But everything said had been meant. And everything unsaid had been meant. He needed for his own sanity and for his own comprehension to know if these flowers truly enveloped MC’s feelings for him. Or if he was just a fool trying to pry into a love that was never his to keep.

“I’ll never forget you.” 

A shudder. The words flowed past his lips as he read the phrase mechanically. “I’ll never forget you.” Each utterance a tremor to his heart as the walls constricted and shook.

I’ll never forget you. Pink carnations are easily the most misused and the most misunderstood. Believed to be a simpleton’s flower, the meaning behind this bloom is often lost due to being handed out of context. It’s beautiful and pastel color can often be misleading. It is a mournful flower, often handed at the cusp of goodbye. A beautiful tendril to remember a fleeting yet vibrant romance. 

The search through the index for the last flower was a trembling one.  Jumin’s fingers skimmed the crisp paper gentle against his skin as he tried to account his increasing pulse to apprehension or suspense. He was approaching the last piece of MC’s riddle and good or bad—real or not—he had been able to come to some conclusion about their parting. About their romance. About them. 

His vision blurred and he felt the world spin.

A note had been tucked away close to the spine where the pages parted. It was a small envelope, no bigger than an index card. “Jumin” had been scripted neatly on the front, and on the back, there was a little flower drawn over the edge of the opening flap. He recognized MC’s handwriting anywhere. Impulse struck a chord with his nerves and he plucked the note quickly before forcing himself to slow down. He wanted to finish this mission. 

Pink camellias. Longing for you.

No more waiting. Jumin dropped the book and tore the envelope open. His heart pitter-pattered and he double took the gentle slope of that oh-so familiar handwriting. The gentle sweep and slant of her penmanship was obvious the moment he gazed upon the ink. There before him, tiny and hopeful, was a phone number. He'd arrived at the end of her puzzle with a growing smile, shaking his head with a fond chuckle. His finger brushed the new note.

"You can be greedy, you know," he whispered reverently. "Around me don't worry. Whatever fears or struggles we may have to face, we'll figure them out together. You don't have to hold back for my sake or for yours."

He pulled two business cards from his wallet, placing one in the forget-me-knots section and the other in the section about pink camellias. Satisfied, he closed the book and walked to the front desk where the head librarian sat typing away on the computer. Noticing his approach, they gave him a warm smile. Holding out their hand, the librarian inclined their head.

"Got everything you need?"

Jumin nodded and handed the book over. "I will soon enough. In the meantime, could you place this on hold? A friend is going to pick it up."

"Of course," the librarian nodded. "Name and number."

"Han MC," Jumin decided with a touch of humor, a welcomed break to his multi-day anxiety high, before reciting the number from the note.

The person assured him that MC would be notified and that the book would be on hold for the next twenty-four hours. He bowed his head slightly and graciously thanked them before heading to the car where Driver Kim awaited. There was so little time to get ready but he wanted to make the most of this anticipation that clung to his lungs with baited breath.

[silverynight]

Gardenias and roses

He realizes, after he's back in Nurmengard, looking down at the skull in his hands, that he doesn't mean to hurt Newton.

The purpose of looking for him was to make sure the magizoologist didn't interfere with plans again; Gellert just wanted to threaten him, nothing more. However, Newton noticed him and fought him thinking the dark lord had come to hurt him and his creatures.

That was not the case. Gellert marveled at Newton's dueling skills and saw, mesmerized, as the redhead managed to escape from him on a dragon the size of a small mansion.

Fortunately, Rosier is not there to hear him chuckle or to see him smile like an idiot. A gentle steam is getting out of the skull's eyes and Gellert stops himself from using it to try to see something about Newton.

He shouldn't be thinking about him at all.

***

In the blink of an eye and with a fierce expression on his face, Newton disarms three wizards. Gellert tries not to stare, but the truth is that the man looks sexy like that.

It's the first time the dark lord sees something close to anger on his freckled face. But he supposes it's because the men were hurting those mooncalves.

He shouldn't be there; Newton clearly doesn't need him and Gellert doesn't have the time (or a good reason) to worry about a magizoologist that has ruined his plans twice.

Grimacing at himself for acting foolishly, Gellert stays a little bit more just to see the way Newton's reddish curls turn almost into golden under the sunlight.

He knows there'll be more freckles on that creamy skin by the end of the week; the place is sunny and Newton doesn't seem to mind to spend more time outside.

It's time to go.

***

The smell of roses starts following him everywhere by the beginning of the next month. Gellert narrows his eyes, turning around to see if there's a flower shop nearby, but there are only cafeterias and a book shop.

As something sweet fills his nostrils, he walks down the street to the book shop, using a mirror to confirm his transfiguration spell worked. He can't be seen there as Gellert Grindelwald; Newton's brother will probably be at the book signing and he can't risk it.

Although part of him would like for the magizoologist to recognize him.

One of the women inside must have some sort of perfume made of gardenias or something, because the flowery smell is getting stronger.

Newton is nervous, Gellert can see it and can't help but rolls his eyes at the situation; the man can treat a full grown dragon like a kitten but can't handle a group of people.

He'd like to say he finds it irritating, but it's actually adorable.

As if he knows he's been watched, the magizoologist looks up at him and smiles, those eyes stare directly at Gellert's for a couple of seconds...

Suddenly, Gellert feels something in his chest and he coughs; Newton looks away and Grindelwald convinces himself the man didn't recognize him.

He stays for a couple of minutes.

***

The cough gets worse; Rosier offers to fetch one of the healers, but Gellert is sure there's nothing to worry about.

He decides not to pay too much attention to it until, one night, he coughs petals: there are roses and gardenias all over the bathroom sink in a couple of seconds and Grindelwald looks at himself in the mirror only to confirm his fear in both his eyes:

Hanahaki.

The dark lord is going to die because he gave his heart away without hesitation to a wizard with freckles and no sense of self preservation.

And he's proud enough not to beg for love; he doesn't want Newton to pity him... He wants it to be sincere... He wants everything from him.

It's too late to stop himself from loving him, so Gellert tries not to think about the disease and pretend in front of his followers that nothing is going on.

The problem is that he feels weaker as the days pass; Rosier asks him about it but the dark lord doesn't want to talk to anyone because he's stupid enough to let his heart break.

He's such a fool he worries more about what the sickness means instead of the fact that it's killing him from the inside.

Newton doesn't love him.

Gellert coughs again and the gardenias that get out of his lungs are so pretty it almost seems like they're harmless.

***

He collapses after he gets rid of the last wizard in the room, he's still awake so he sees as Newton gets himself free from the magic chains, takes the wampus and kneels next to him.

Feeling grateful Newton is the last thing he'll see, Grindelwald smiles at him before passing out.

But he doesn't die; he wakes up in Newton's living room. The magizoologist is leaning towards him and touching his forehead so kindly, Gellert would like to kiss his hand.

But he doesn't, he can't.

Instead, he coughs and Newton puts all the petals in a bowl as his face twists with concern.

He knows.

"You should talk to them," the magizoologist mumbles, already working on a potion.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Grindelwald says stubbornly.

"The person you're in love with... I'm sure they'll–"

"No," Gellert shakes his head, trying to fight another cough. "He won't love me. I'm not good enough for him."

Newton looks surprised for a moment, but Grindelwald is not sure if it's because he admitted it was a man or because he said he didn't deserve him.

"The potion I'm going to give you is enough to make you feel a little bit better for a while. At least until I find the ingredients for the other one. If I do it correctly, it could get rid of the disease compl–"

"No," Gellert mumbles, surprising even himself. "I don't want to stop loving him."

Newton's expression softens then; he's looking at him like he's never seen the dark lord before and Grindelwald's heart beats so fast it makes him cough again.

"Take this one at least." Newton insists and Gellert knows can't say 'No' to him.

In the morning he feels better, but just a little; he doesn't cough so many petals now, but he's still weak.

Newton asks him to stay with him for a while and Grindelwald is masochist enough to accept the invitation.

He helps Newton around the house, feeding his creatures and realizes that domestic life is not that bad after all. In fact, he would have loved to spend his days with his magizoologist...

But that's impossible now.

"Perhaps you could write him a letter," Newton mumbles one day, shyly, looking at him with a lovely smile as Grindelwald carries Dougal in his arms so the creature could relax. "So he knows..."

"I don't want him to feel guilty," the dark lord admits, putting the demiguise on the ground and waving a hand, prompting Dougal to go keep an eye on the occamys.

Looking at him with concern, Newton nods but doesn't say another word.

The potion must be stronger than he thought, because Gellert feels better the next day. He has more energy to help Newton inside the case.

"You should let me try with the other potion," the redhead mumbles shyly, surprising him for a moment.

"I can't."

"Is he worth dying?" The magizoologist whispers, almost like he doesn't want the dark lord to hear his question.

Grindelwald turns around then; the moonlight is coming right through the window and into the room, falling all over Newton's back, making him look almost ethereal.

He's never looked more beautiful.

"Yes," he sighs, with all the honesty and sincerity a dark wizard in love like him can feel.

However, the warmth feeling in his chest vanishes as soon as he notices the tears falling from Newton's eyes.

"Are you alright, Liebling?"

"I don't want you to die," the magizoologist admits with a sob and even if he doesn't love him, Gellert can't help but beam when he realizes that his beloved at least cares about him.

"It's okay, Newton, I–" the dark lord stops as soon as he takes a step closer to the magizoologist. He takes a deep breath to...

A deep breath; he hasn't been able to do that since he got sick, even the potion Newton gave him had its limitations...

He takes another deep breath. He doesn't cough, he doesn't feel like his lungs are going to explode anymore... He doesn't smell roses or gardenias...

"Newton?"

The magizoologist looks up, his green eyes are glimmering with something.

"Do you love me?"

The redhead blushes adorably and Gellert wants to pull him closer to him, but he doesn't because he needs to make sure first.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I know you're in love with someone else, but–"

"Liebling," he cuts him off by cupping Newton's face in his hands. "I'm not sick anymore."

Confused, the magizoologist frowns.

"But how? Did you..."

Grindelwald leans to kiss him on the cheek and Newton's blush spreads quickly down his neck.

"Oh... Oh," realization hits him suddenly and a couple of emotions appear on his face at the same time. "Why didn't you tell me? You could've die–"

"Newton, my love. I promise I will let you scold me for this later, but right now I'd like to kiss all the freckles on your body."

Looking back at him with desire, Newt takes a step closer and kisses Grindelwald on the lips.

***

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