#this includes when i see you in person this summer lmao

[levil0vesyou]

Having a post get popular enough to be independently reblogged by someone you follow but aren't mutuals with is. Wild

[alphabetboyluvr]

habits of a clandestine nature | jjk

pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)

warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao

wordcount: 16k

note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.

Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.

You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.

Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.

From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.

All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.

Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.

It's not that you actively want to see him.

You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.

He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.

God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.

The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.

In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.

Has told you a lot.

Told you far too much.

Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.

Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.

And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.

You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.

But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.

You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.

It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.

But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.

Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?

Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.

The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.

The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.

The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.

For a minute, you feel vindicated.

It doesn't last.

For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.

The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.

He always slept well in your bedroom, though.

Funny, that.

He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.

Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.

The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.

"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.

Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.

"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.

They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.

There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.

It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.

"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"

"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"

"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."

On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.

Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.

Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.

After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.

Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.

Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.

Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.

"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"

"Obviously."

"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."

"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.

And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.

While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.

But summer was lonely.

Or at least it was.

Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.

Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"

The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.

After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.

When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.

"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.

Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.

Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.

But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.

He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.

A routine grew. Habits formed.

Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.

Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.

The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.

He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.

And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.

Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.

But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.

Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."

"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.

You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.

The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.

But he was, and it was lovely.

The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.

"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."

It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.

Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.

Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.

But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.

Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.

You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.

It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.

"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.

"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.

"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"

On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.

"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."

A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.

"Sure."

There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.

"You think I can't be trusted?"

"I think it's foolish to trust any man."

His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.

"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"

"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.

"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"

With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."

"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.

"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"

"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.

"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.

Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."

Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.

A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.

And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?

His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.

Have you not served him enough?

You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.

"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.

He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.

"Excuse me, sir."

Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.

"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.

More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.

Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.

Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.

You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.

Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.

"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."

Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.

Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.

You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.

You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.

As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.

But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.

Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.

But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.

You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.

Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.

It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.

In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.

"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"

The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.

It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud. 

In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.

But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.

You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.

Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.

Where you at? It could read. I'm here.

Or maybe, I miss you.

I can't sleep without you.

This is so stupid. Can I come over?

It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.

Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.

You: you not coming in tonight?

You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x

You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?

Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.

Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.

Jackass Wang: party tonight

You: so????

One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.

Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery

"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.

It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.

Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.

You: i like it better when i don't see you x

Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.

You: they'd rather die :) x

Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: you just can't take no for an answer

Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.

You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????

The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.

Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.

You: charming x

Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.

You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.

Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.

The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.

Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.

Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.

Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.

"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.

Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.

"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"

Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"

His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.

Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."

He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.

"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"

"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."

"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."

"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."

Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.

"Don't give me that bull."

"It's not bull!"

"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"

His expression is flat. You are paper thin.

He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.

He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.

"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"

"No!"

Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.

Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"

"I'm not!"

"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"

Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.

"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.

"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."

"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.

He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.

"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"

With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.

"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."

You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.

As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.

By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.

There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.

Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.

Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.

Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.

It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.

But he did, and you damn well know it.

Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.

"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."

But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."

You're silent when he says this.

Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.

But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.

Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.

"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."

Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.

Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.

Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.

He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.

"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."

"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"

"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."

He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.

They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.

Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.

"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."

"Who?" Jimin chirps.

Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."

"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"

"I said leave it."

"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.

"No one."

"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"

"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."

"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."

Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.

"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.

They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?

"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.

It's not that he's ashamed. 

It's that you're separate.

When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.

If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.

He doesn't want that.

He wants you to be a safe haven.

A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.

But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.

He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.

"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"

With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."

"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"

"You really have to ask?"

For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.

They always have done.

When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.

Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.

How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.

Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.

When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.

So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.

"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"

"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."

Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.

The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.

It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.

The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.

The irony isn't lost on you.

"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"

"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.

If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.

All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.

One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.

When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.

You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.

Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.

Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.

"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."

"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."

"It's not my new home—"

"MONTGOMERY!"

The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.

"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."

Nothing happened between you.

It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.

"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.

"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."

Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.

Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.

It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.

"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.

Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."

As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.

How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.

"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."

Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.

A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.

"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."

It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.

They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.

And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.

Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.

The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.

Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail. 

Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.

In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.

Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.

The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.

Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.

Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.

But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.

"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.

The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.

Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.

"Cut the bullshit," he says.

"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"

"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"

Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.

"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."

Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.

Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.

You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.

"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"

It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.

"Mistaken identity."

"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"

You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.

He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.

"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.

"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."

"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.

With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.

"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."

Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.

"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."

Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.

He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.

It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.

Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.

This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.

You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.

Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.

As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.

Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.

But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.

"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"

Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."

"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."

And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.

If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.

He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.

But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.

It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.

Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.

"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.

"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."

The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.

"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"

"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."

Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.

"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"

"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"

It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.

But every cloud has a silver lining.

"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."

He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.

"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."

The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.

A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.

And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.

Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.

The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.

"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"

You're gonna kill Taehyung. 

In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.

"Safe," you grimace.

Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"

"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.

"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.

"My sentiments exactly."

Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge

"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."

"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."

Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.

"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.

"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."

Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.

"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.

The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.

You wish you didn't.

"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.

"Excuse me?" 

"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"

"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."

"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"

Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.

And so he doesn't try.

"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"

You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.

Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.

You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.

"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.

"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"

It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.

"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."

"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.

"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."

"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"

"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"

He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."

Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.

"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"

He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.

"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"

"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.

"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."

"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.

The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.

"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."

"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"

He's silent, now. Cowardly.

"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."

"You know that's not—"

"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.

Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.

Feels like it, too. 

"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.

"Tell you wha—"

"That you were a virgin."

Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!

Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.

"Hardly relevant, is it?"

"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"

"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"

"I didn't ghost you."

"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."

"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"

"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"

"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."

"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."

"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"

The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.

"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."

You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.

To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.

With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.

Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.

With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.

Looks down at you.

Is so close you can smell his aftershave.

A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.

"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."

Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.

The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.

"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.

"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."

He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."

The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.

Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.

Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.

"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"

The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?

All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.

"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"

The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.

Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.

And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.

It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.

Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.

An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.

When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.

While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.

He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.

He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.

As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.

And so it's up to him to put you back together again.

"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"

His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to.  Also knows that he does need to.

"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."

"But I—"

"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up." 

He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.

"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"

His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.

An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).

"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.

The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"

"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"

"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."

Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.

Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.

It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.

"I want you," he husks against your lips. 

"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.

"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."

"And what was that?" You encourage.

There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer. 

Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."

And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?

Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.

The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.

"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.

"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"

"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."

He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.

"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.

"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.

As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.

"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"

You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."

He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.

"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.

"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.

"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.

There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.

"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."

Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."

"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.

And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.

His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.

"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"

"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.

"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."

With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.

Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.

His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.

Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."

The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.

He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.

When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.

Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.

But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.

"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."

If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.

Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.

Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.

You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.

But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.

As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"

Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.

"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."

The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.

"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.

"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.

"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."

It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.

His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.

"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.

"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.

"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."

"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"

"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.

He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.

"S'all there is. They alright?"

"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"

"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."

His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.

"I don't care. I don't want them—"

You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.

"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"

When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.

"I promise," you swear.

As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.

"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"

"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"

"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.

"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."

With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.

"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.

"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."

"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.

You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.

"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.

Your argumentative streak wants to fight.

You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."

His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.

In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.

Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.

Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."

Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.

He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.

"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.

The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.

You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.

"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."

"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"

His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."

And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.

But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.

Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."

"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.

"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."

"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.

"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole. 

His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes. 

Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"

There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."

But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."

"You're stupid."

"You're stupider."

"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before. 

His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"

"Think you were gonna make me cum."

"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."

His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.

The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.

As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.

The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.

"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.

"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."

You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.

"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.

"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"

It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.

"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.

"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."

The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with. 

His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.

But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"

That's the thing.

He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.

Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.

"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."

Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.

And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.

"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"

You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.

"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."

It's been half an hour.

He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.

The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck. 

Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.

Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.

"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."

"We?" You question, incredibly confused.

"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.

Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.

As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.

Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.

"Sorry, what the fuck?!"

[nothorses]

So I'm thinking of going on low dose T, and ofc I'll get more feedback from doctors when I see them, but I know one of the changes is that you run warmer and have lower heat tolerance, and I'm already kind of heat sensitive (sweating is a sensory ick). Do you or your followers have any kind of coping strategies that have helped with that?

I ran warm before, too, and I'm definitely warmer now! I also have Raynaud's which kind of makes the whole experience a clusterfuck, but that's besides the point. lmao.

I live in a pretty cool/temperate area, so it isn't normally an issue except in the (increasingly horrible) summers, but I've found that the hardest time to stay cool has been at night. I share a bed with my partner who runs even warmer, and it's been 2.5 years of struggling to figure out how to be a comfortable temperature together.

The best advice I can give you is to just stay as far away from synthetic fibers as you can; "sweat wicking" and "cooling" and "athletic" stuff included. It's a lie. They're all plastic, and while they might feel cool to the touch at first, plastic doesn't breathe. It'll trap heat and moisture against your skin after enough time, especially in the form of blankets. (Fuck the Rest Evercool. Worst recommendation I've ever gotten.)

Look for 100% linen, or 100% cotton. I've heard wool also works well, but I haven't had luck with that personally. Woven fabrics are going to be cooler and more breathable than sateen, and waffle weave is like, the single most breathable weave afaik (it's more common in blankets, but some clothes are waffle).

Some of these things can be pretty scratchy at first, and I recommend a couple of washes on a high heat & some fabric softener before you start using them. We were able to break in our waffle blanket super quickly this way! (I know some folks recommend against softener for breathability reasons, but it's the only thing that actually worked for us, and it hasn't impacted breathability). After you break them in, though, cotton and linen fabrics are SUPER soft!

I also recommend staying away from leather. It's natural, but trust me: it's not breathable. It's coveted in outdoor rec spaces BECAUSE it's somewhat waterproof.

Outside of that, I'd really encourage you to lean towards multiple light layers that you can change/remove throughout the day to suit your needs (ex: light tee + fleece + wind/rain layer, maybe throw in a flannel somewhere), instead of one or two heavy ones (ex: shirt + big puffy cold weather jacket). It's a strategy common in the PNW that works great for regulating your temperature when you're dealing with humidity and somewhat unpredictable weather, and imo, it also really translates if you're just generally sensitive to heat and sweat.

Outside of that... depending on where you live, I really recommend having an AC/dehumidifier. Don't bother with trying to rig up a swamp cooler if you're sensitive to sweat- the increased humidity will make things worse. The general advice I heard when researching a good AC was that window units will always be more efficient than portable units (and a mini split is better than either), but if you have to go with a portable unit, go with a dual-hose. They'll be more efficient just because they don't create a vacuum that pulls in warm air from outside. This is the model we settled on- it was really highly recommended and cost effective for what it is, and it's been absolutely fantastic this summer.

Idk how you are about pits, but I wash mine with a benzoyl body wash and then use a deodorant with antiperspirant every day, and I virtually never smell or sweat. 🤷‍♂️ ymmv though

I'm sure folks will have things to add, so check the notes on this post- and good luck!

[sydneymykah]

☆☆THE STRUGGLE OF ROUTINE ☆☆

✧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Some people can just get out of bed and automatically do what they need to do to get the day started. And the same people seem to be the ones we see the most on our screens. "My Morning Routine", "My weekly regimen", "What I eat in a day", and "My Nightly Routine". These people are seemingly put together and perfect like their said routines. But here you are slouched on your undone bed, still in your pajamas, wearing makeup from the day before after waking up after 12 pm. You meaning me, lmao. ☆...

☆The struggle of routine is something we all face regardless of what social media persists to tell us. But I don't really want to talk about how "social media is fake" because that's not even fully true. Some people really do live like this and have very structured routines for their day to day lives, granted it's what pays their bills but that's still technically their routine. But I'm more concerned about talking about how DIFFICULT it is to keep a constant routine. Especially in this weird time we live in.

ミ★I'm a perfectionist. I hate when things don't go the way I want and I tend to want things one way or not at all. But life doesn't live by those rules. Life will throw whatever the hell it wants at you, whenever it feels like it. As an individual you have to learn to work around it all. For me it's an inconsistent work schedule, minor (or major) inconveniences, mood swings, and of course the main culprit is laziness/lack of discipline.

☆We've all done it. On a random day of the week you're up way too late reflecting on your life and what you're doing with it. You suddenly feel the hyperactive urge to fix everything about yourself. You want the perfect body before the summer. You want your hair to grow longer faster. You want to get all your life goals written down and planned out dow not the last minute. You want to post a 1 minute video everyday on TikTok at exactly 3 pm EST and post at least 4 pictures to your instagram every other day. So you open the notes app and make an extremely specific, unrealistic, and way too intense routine to follow everyday. You set reminders, add 30 new alarms to your phone, you fill your amazon cart with stuff you believe you'll defiantly use. And after you make yet another playlist of YouTube workout videos you go to bed confident your life is gonna change forever after this...

Now one of two things happen:

You completely throw away the routine the minute you wake up the next day

Or, you do it for a few days but eventually burnout and find yourself back where you were before, now with just more useless junk you have no room for...

ミ★I have personally been both. But we can all empathize with this because if maintaining a routine was easy it wouldn't be such a successful phenomenon online. Out of the millions of views under "my morning routine" posts, many, if not majority, of them are people who wish they can live the way these people do. I think we as people have developed mindsets that are negative first, positive later. Ever since the quarantine we've been used to online overconsumption. The idea that "more is better", and the scare that was the virus has sparked this fear in us that is wasted time. Hence us wanting to build new giant routines in the middle of the night just to eventually abandon it because our minds and bodies don't evolve or develop like that overnight. Most the time the routines are grueling and just makes us feel exhausted over accomplished. When we don't see immediate change a lot people, including myself, give up then and there.

☆Im not here to tell you how to keep a constant routine or how to become more disciplined because all that information is in the palm of your hands. Honestly at the end of the day it's about your mindset. Realizing what is around you and remembering the reality you live in. You want that body? You want that hair growth? You want to post? It's all possible but here's where the issue lies:

ミ★We forget to forgive ourselves and to be patient with ourselves. We fall under the pressure to perform for social media as well. In this digital age we try to make social media real life 24/7 and put real life on the back burner. Everything must be aesthetic or else! Or if you can't keep a constant routine for a week you're a failure! But the reality is no one just wakes up in their perfect aesthetic one day and has this perfect routine down pat the first time. Another thing that we keep doing is what everyone else is doing. Another example of putting the online first before real life. We've forgotten the beauty of growth, and how things develop overtime. It reminds me of how small artists have the potential to blow up overnight. They suddenly have all these eyes on them and then the GP turns on them simply because their exceptions don't match the artist's personal growth. I think we do the same to ourselves. But regardless of what other people, social media or even what you might even say to yourself the best way to find a good routine is get to know yourself, not someone else. And to not go by others expectations. It's good to hold yourself to a high regard and to make ambitious goals. But you should remind yourself that you want this to last and you don't want to burn yourself out trying to perfect your life like it's a speed run.

☆When following creators who makes content like this I advise to follow people you relate to first. Not saying you can't follow those extremely aesthetic ASMR morning/Night routine videos because hell I watch them too. But know that I watch them for simply that. I've come to the point where I can watch that stuff and not feel incompetent or that I'm failing in life but I digress. Don't pay attention to the many trends and what's hot, just look for people who you might see yourself in, or people who have qualities similar to yours. Physically, mentally, ect. Because if you're a black girl who wants to know how to do a specific 4C hairstyle you're not going to the white girl influencers for tutorials are you? For me I watch Jackie Aina. Her and I don't even have the same tastes in certain aspects, specifically clothing and home decor but she reminds me a lot of myself and some of my values. Her content inspires me but doesn't make me feel like I need to reinvent myself overnight. That's not realistic nor healthy. I think subjecting yourself to that will just give you an identity crisis. Her content helps me feel confident and you should follow people like that too.

ミ★My purpose of this post is not "continue to be a slob" (I'm a Taurus stellium and Venusian. Girl we don't do that over 'chere.) it's to remind and to encourage. A reminder that what you see online isn't what real life is 24/7. Doesn't mean it's all fake, it just means that life doesn't just look like one thing. Social media just tends to make our vision a bit tunneled. Yes, some peoples lives surround what they eat in a day, what they do when they get out of bed, and the steps they follow in their nighttime skincare routine. But our attachment and overconsumption to these types of creators constantly fails to remind us that they're still human. Hell even when the human creators tell y'all "hey I'm human" they still aren't treated as such but guess what? They are! So are you. You are still human. Finding a groove that works for you will take time. And many times you will fail. You will probably forget to do something, you won't have the time for certain tasks, or an inconvenience will pop up out of no where that knocks you off course. But if at first you don't succeed, try again. Social media picture perfect propaganda (lol) has made us forget that life happens and that we will essentially always struggle with routine. Some things stick, some things don't. Some routines last a long time, some only stay for a day. We live in an age where everyone's trying to move as fast as they can to keep with the trends, keep up appearances, and to make up for lost time. And as much as I love the thrill of the fast life, how can I expect to see my growth, what I like, what needs changing and how to fall into a good rhythm when I'm too busy trying to keep up.

✧─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Xoxo, Sydney Mykah -☆

[ur-fav-inactive-writer]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 ____'𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞...

(A/N: Does not include Five)

𝑵𝒐. 1 , 𝑳𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 , 𝑺𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒃𝒐𝒚

girl next door trope

knew you ever since childhood

loves you to death

so soft with you

he's such a gentlemen

pulls out chairs for you and holds doors for you

butttttt you have to deal with his daddy issues

he always comes to you crying whenever something happens

a sweetheart with you though

he's very awkward at comforting you

he likes to cook for you

he's such a good chef ngl

he loves cuddling

he literally is always cuddling you

likes to be big spoon, don't get me wrong he needs comfort

but

the idea of being able to protect you by being big spoon is so validating to him

he's too big to be little spoon anyway

that is literally his one purpose

if he found you during the 60s or something and he had to leave you he'd never stop talking about you

"I miss (Y/N)..."

"(Y/N) would've liked this.."

"Luther, they're gone."

fml sobbing why did I write that

anyway his one purpose is to love and protect you

𝑵𝒐. 2 , 𝑫𝒊𝒆𝒈𝒐 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒓𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏

very jealous

if he sees you with some guy who is flirting with you he will literally glare daggers into him

he will then proceed to walk over to you, sling an arm around your waist and pull you in for a kiss

he doesn't give a shit if anyone's watching

he talks shit about him siblings to you

"Luther thinks he's so much better than all of us-"

"Diego chill out."

oh my god when Viktor wrote that book

he

was

SEETHING

(no hate to viktor , viktor is baby)

the shit talk increased so much

he would not shut up about it

help diego would be such a simp for you

like I'm not joking

pure simp

in his eyes you are sweet innocent summer child who can do absolutely no wrong

stabbed someone?

pfft it was probably just an accident

he brings you to visit grace

omg it would be so cute

grace absolutely adores you

she always makes sly comments about how you and diego should get married

he goes redder than the colour red

he wouldn't tell anyone but he secretly loves the idea

he loves kissing your forehead

it's literally his favourite place

you and klaus are besties

he has to deal with you when klaus gets you drunk

"oh. my. god. im upside down."

"(Y/N), you're standing upright. we need to go home.

"... no"

he never gets drunk

fun squasher

he says his body's a temple

boring

youre his nurse

he always comes home injured and gets you to patch him up

he finds it hot

yes, he's bleeding out. yes, he finds you playing nurse to him hot.

priorities ig

he's so soft with you

would kill for you

he probably has

𝑵𝒐. 3 , 𝑨𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒓

(refuse to make her evil so s3 allison will not be mentioned)

definitely gets you an acting job in one of her films

she buys you the fanciest stuff

literally you two have the best closet

and you have your own personal stylist

bc why not

you do interviews with her all the time

fans absolutely adore you

there's so many paparazzi pictures of you two together and they eat it up

especially if they include you being doting to claire even though she's not biologically your kid

omg her fans would absolutely love that

so would allison though

if she saw you reading claire a story or smth

her heart would just melt

she might cry ngl

her two favourite ppl in the world just being adorable

you're the cool parent to claire

both of you go to fancy parties and are the hottest couple

"Allison! (Y/N)! How does it feel knowing you're America's favourite couple!"

you're so flattered

allisons just like: yeah ik lmao

she kisses you a lot in public

she knows damn well people are gonna get pictures of it but she loves it

you watch her films with her a lot

if its a particularly old one, you make fun of it with her

"oh my god allison. why do you look like that."

"IT WAS THE STYLE."

she then proceeds to also make fun of it

you, her and claire go on lots of fancy days out

you may as well considering you're RICH

luther gets a bit jealous sometimes

you help her with her therapy

you comforted her when she custody of claire

you also fought alongside her to get her back

as soon as you do you're happier than ever

you are literally just the cutest family ahdhahfhaj

but then she loses you again when she goes to the 60's

she made it her life's purpose to get back to 2019 with the love of her life and claire

as soon as she accepts that it could take years upon years to reunite with you and claire she finds ray

she knew you'd be happy

but she also knew

she'd never truly move on

omg help I'm gonna start sobbing why do I do this to myself

𝑵𝒐. 4 , 𝑲𝒍𝒂𝒖𝒔 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒆́𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

you help get him off of drugs

ben adores you

he likes that you're there to help klaus

and that you don't ever drop to his level and just do drugs with him

he also likes how you never shit talk him when klaus starts ranting about how annoying he is

klaus is a huge fan of PDA

he is obsessed with the idea of holding your hands

he is constantly touching you in one way or the other

whether it be holding your hand

or simply having a hand on your leg

it matters to him

and that's why you love it

sweet baby boi has so much love to give

he likes being little spoon

he just loves being in your arms

it helps with his nightmares

diego also approves of you

you've saved him from having to go out and look for klaus in the middle of the night in fear he's high or smth

klaus rants to you every so often

quite often you have to help him through panic attacks

he loves you sm

like he is so lovesick

if anyone were to ever ask about you

oh boy

he gets this lovesick look in his eyes

and then starts rambling about how enamored he is with you and how great you are

it's adorable

he's very clingy but in the best way possible

he matches outfits with you

never a dull moment with you two

often it's you trying to solve whatever problem klaus has somehow managed to conjure up

and klaus just being a devious little shit

but it doesn't matter cause you love him

sometimes he questions why you love him

it makes you cry whenever he asks

"(Y/N/N)..."

you hum in response

"why do you love me...?"

sobbing and you start listing all the reasons

and then he's sobbing

and then you're both sobbing

but anyway

he loves dancing with you

he doesn't care what song

it could be some crappy pop song that's somehow in the top hits

or some classical music that's centuries old

he really doesn't care

he likes spinning you around

he loves seeing how happy it makes you

klaus asks you the most random stuff at 3am

"... (Y/N"

"yeah"

"lawyers hope you get sued, doctors hope you get sick, cops hope you're criminal, mechanics hope you have car trouble, but only a thief wishes prosperity for you."

"... go to bed"

"never"

you poor thing

you never get any sleep because of how chatty he is at night

he hates being away from you

if he isn't near you he will start whining to ben

𝑵𝒐. 6 , 𝑩𝒆𝒏 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓

omg it took him ages to admit his crush on you

he's been crushing on you since you were like 12

when did he admit it?

when he was 18.

he likes reading to you

he loves seeing you get all relaxed at the sound of his voice

it makes him fall even more in love with you

he likes PDA but not that much

just a simple touch is enough for him

this boy blushes so easily

you'll brush his hand and he'll turn so pink

sometimes you'll just be sitting there doing nothing of note

and he'll be staring at you in adoration

he's in absolute awe of you

thinks you're the most adorable thing ever

much like diego

thinks you can do no wrong

you're his sweet, precious girl

he knows everything about you off by heart

from your favourite colour

to your mums favourite song

you thinks it's endearing

he loves holding your hand

playing with your hair is one of his favourite things to do

don't get me wrong he likes when you do it to him

but he much prefers when he does it to you

he finds it really relaxing

he's usually pretty closed off about his childhood but he trusts you

sometimes when something that triggers a bad memory happens he goes to you to rant

he doesn't know what he'd do without you

you're literally his life

omg

when you kiss his nose

he just melts

it's the most adorable thing

he's so good at cheering you up

no matter if its something minor or major

he's always amazing at getting you back to your usual self

he loves taking you on cute little dates

he reads you poetry he wrote

omg he deffo writes a piece of poetry about how much he loves you

omg help this is so cute

overall he's a simp

and it suits him

𝑵𝒐. 7 , 𝑽𝒊𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒓 , 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑽𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒏

viktors a sweetheart

he gives you private violin shows

he also rehearses in front of you to see what you think

he tries to get you to critique him

if you don't play violin, you probably just say its all perfect

if you do, you probably give him little tips on areas to work on

you go on little dates to watch the sunset

he has to be little spoon

he just needs some comfort

just needs to be wrapped in your arms and feel safe

poor guy has been through so much

sometimes he gets mad memories of the incident with allison and you have to calm him down

he wouldn't get jealous

he'd just get rlly insecure :(

if he saw someone flirting with you he'd just get a bit sad

he would think the worst and think that you would want to leave him for them :(((

poor bby

opens up to you about how bad his childhood was

sometimes he regrets writing the book

you have to reassure him that it's okay and they don't hate him for it

sure, they did, but not anymore

klaus thinks you two are adorable together

you've got quite a few polaroids of the two of you together

he has them on those little string lights above your bed

he keeps at least one in his pocket at all times

he does that thing where you check if you still have something valuable and it's so cute for some reason

and when he checks and its still there it puts this small little smile on his face

omg it's just shfjsjfjsjf

you take care of him when he's sick

he hates it bc he feels bad that you have to take care of him

but deep down he loves it and will treasure those memories forever

but he'd do the exact same thing if you were sick

whenever you buy him something he always feels bad if he didn't get you something

"Vik it's okay! you didn't have to get me anything,"

"NO ITS NOT I NEED TO GO GET YOU SOMETHING RIGHT NOW."

it's absolutely adorable

Taglist: @book-place

[stevie-petey]

oh also,,, whenever you wanna write. chap 6 steve & robin pov blurb because i am so sure steve would be going on and on about bug once she left so my soul needs that thank you <3

im kicking myself idk why i didnt include this scene in the chapter like its PERFECT for what i have planned later but ,,, for now all i can do is make it a blurb n tell people to read it lmao

enjoy <3

"it didnt matter that you were an ass. i was still... obsessed with you." robins confession hangs in the air. her back is pressed against steves as they lay on the floor, bound together. his eye stings and his nose is numb and crusted with dried blood. he isnt sure why shes telling him this.

"even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just wanna be popular. accepted. normal."

the rope around steves wrists tense. he clenches his fists and bites the inside of his swollen cheek. acceptance. he thought he had that, once. when he was sixteen with a crowd of people who wouldve done anything for his attention.

now hes eighteen and the crowds bruises still tinge his body.

"if it makes you feel any better, having those things isnt all that great. seriously." it took him a long time to learn that. to recognize that his acceptance was merely a precedence. it wasnt real friendship. he wouldnt learn this until he met you, until you taught it to him. "it just baffles me. everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, its all just... bullshit."

bullshit. nancy taught him that, too.

"its all just bullshit, it was so obviously bullshit. i was an idiot for not realizing it sooner," steve bites the inside of is cheek again. somehow, his lips remained untouched when he was being beaten by the russians. your lips still linger on his. "you know, the only person who saw through my bullshit was y/n. one day, before we knew about monsters and russian lairs, she said that she knew i wasnt a bad person. it... it stuck with me. here she was, y/n henderson, telling me i wasnt so bad."

"and then...?" robin is almost too afraid to press him further. shes never seen him like this, vulnerable and open. she didnt know that his history with you went beyond just a summer fling.

steve nudges his head back and sighs. "i messed up. i... i hurt people. people she cared about."

robin frowns. you wouldnt forgive someone so easily for that. theres more to what steve is saying, she just cant figure out what. "she must really love you, then. if she forgave you."

"i dont know if she loves me, but i know that she believes in me. sees someone worth putting up with." he huffs, he cant believe he will never see you again. he hates that he will never be able to thank you for seeing a version of him that no one else could. "it wasnt until i messed up that i realized she saw something in me. its ironic, isnt it? but i guess you gotta mess up to figure things out, right?"

he had to mess up to realize that he loved you, too.

"i hope so. i feel like my whole life has been one big error." robin admits. its the least she could do, offer steve a piece of herself in return for what hes offered her.

an unattractive snort escapes steve. he laughs, and his shoulders shake against robins. he understands exactly what she means. "yup."

"god, i wonder how y/n does it."

"does what?"

robin pauses, worries that she might reveal too much. but its steve. if theyre going to die together, he deserves to know. he has to know. "shes always able to see the error in people and love them anyways."

steve is quiet. he lets what she said settle over him. its what he loves the most about you. how youve always managed to see the good in people, even in someone as cruel as billy. he hadnt known that robin noticed this kindness in you, too.

she seems to understand you in a way only he and jonathan do.

"you know, i wish id known you in clicks class." its a peace offering. an extension of himself to robin for caring about you the way he does. no one really seems to be able, despite how easy steve finds it to be.

"yeah?"

"really, i do. maybe you couldve helped me pass the class." he breathes out, the thought of all he couldve done differently will always haunt him. king steve is dead, but the persona is a ghost he will never be able to get rid of. "maybe instead of being here, id be with y/n on some romantic getaway. maybe you wouldve given me the courage to do what i shouldve done sooner."

robin doesnt say anything. she turns her face away, presses her cheek against the concrete surface.

"robin?"

she swallows. "yeah. yeah, maybe. you wouldnt have been stuck slinging ice cream with me like some smuck."

steve shakes his head. hes worried hes said the wrong thing. "hey, dont get me wrong. i enjoyed being your smuck. it was fun while it lasted."

bittersweetness creeps upon robins face. she smiles, though its a sad one. shes going to die with the understanding of why youve fallen so hard for steve harrington. "yeah. it was."

then the doors burst open and the russian find them.

[imagininghogwarts]

Being A Weasley Would Include...

You're probably sorted into Gryffindor. Sorry if that's not your house, but the sorting hat doesn't seem to separate families even if they really should be in different houses (I could rant for hours on how Ron is a Hufflepuff and Percy is a Ravenclaw, don't even get me STARTED)

Even if you're not in Gryffindor though, Arthur and Molly would love you just the same <3

You'd share a room with Ginny of course!

And you'd be super close, sharing a room and being the only sisters

Molly hand makes a lot of your clothes and blankets, so they're super cute, warm and cozy, and made with a lot of love <3

Her home cooking is fantastic as well!

Your brothers are all very protective of you, even if you're fully capable of hexing someone for yourself.

Ginny looks up to you so much, you're her personal hero

Arthur is such a fun dad! He barely ever gets cross with you, and he has so many cool trinkets!

He also taught you how to play quidditch <3

For the holidays, Molly sends you cookies, candies, and jumpers she home makes <3

You'd grow up playing quidditch with your brothers (and Ginny of course) so of course you make the house team!

Backyard quidditch in the summer

Also exploring the marshy woodsy areas with your brothers

SUMMERS AT THE BURROW.

School shopping in diagon alley with your whole family can be chaotic, but you all get everything you need and it's kinda fun with Harry and Hermione there

Speaking of, Harry is there just about every summer. Get used to him!

The two of you are probably very close friends (Harry is a girl's girl fr, he's so good to Hermione and Luna, 10/10 friend)

You're also super close with Hermione! It's always so fun when she comes to stay with you guys <3

Fred and George are total menaces and nobody is safe from their antics, not even their precious baby sister.

You have so many stories about your brothers and sister, you never run out of things to talk about

A LOT of inside jokes with Ron. Being the closest in age, you two basically have your own language of inside jokes and references.

Getting to go on cool trips to visit Charlie and seeing so many cool dragons!!!

Spending weekends at the cottage with Bill and Fleur to get away from Fred and George from time to time lmao (and they absolutely adore having you over, Fleur loves you)

You probably bicker with Percy because he's a git </3 (but he still really loves you and will protect you at all costs)

During the Battle of Hogwarts, you fight side by side with your family. They're absolutely not letting you out of their sight, ever

You're part of the most cozy, loving family of all time <3

Let me know if you want a part two! I love the Weasleys <333

[chocotonez]

enhypen summer dates: pool parties

a/n: i like pool parties a lot :) !! enjoy!

summary: you go to a pool party with your lovely boyfriend and the rest of enhypen

cw/genre: fluff, cursing, crack/comedy, playful summer vibes, gn!reader and no descriptions of body other than tanning/sunbathing and briefly some body image themes in sunoo’s, and pls let me know if anything else should be tagged!

june 1k special masterlist here! -> (*☻-☻*)

heesung

-he only goes because you either really want to or the members really want him to come

-I can definitely see him trying to unwind with his Nintendo switch under the umbrella until Niki pops his head out and is like hehe heeyyyy

-the members practically drag him to the pool and depending on who you are you’re either sunbathing and enjoying yourself or helping in throwing Heesung into the pool!

-lots of him going “baaaaby they’re bullying me!!” throughout the day

-constantly reapplying sunscreen to ur face that’s just the law of the land

-probably complains a lot but secretly loves it because he gets to spend time with his second family <3

-HATES getting his hair wet at first he’s one of those people that r like “icky no stop I’m gonna get out if you splash me”

-gets hella competitive if there’s a splash fight tho like damn…dawg is full on SOAKING ppl!!

-is so cute tho especially if he notices you getting uncomfy cuz all the water in ur lungs LMAO, starts yelling at everyone and is being annoying like stop splashing or everyone’s going home!!

-always looks out for you and make sure you aren’t drowning <3

jay

-he goes because he wants to see his pretty partner enjoy themself, and also take a nap on the pool side while going snooozeeee but NOO

-wakes up to jungwon and sunoo SOAKING him and he’ll be scolding them but if you’re there he gets all soft :((

-DEMANDS you wear sunscreen and reminds you every ten minutes

-he’s like an old man “ooo the water so cold…”

-I love him.

-brings the best snacks and strictly follows the rules of not swimming after eating much to your + the members’ complaints

-lowkey would much rather be at the grill preparing dinner so he can keep an eye on everyone and including you!!

-probably helps you pick a super cute swim wear in advance too :(( watch you guys match omg

-has a “kiss the cook” apron entirely for you even though everyone else teases him for being on the grill during a pool party <3

-let’s you have first pick of food :) BUT NO FOOD IN THE POOL!!! >:T

jake

-playing mermaids with you or trying to drown NiKi who knows it depends on his mood

-Jake has a black and white tail and his mermaid powers would be singing and talking to animals yes yes yes

-is somehow full of energy the entire time

-jumps into the pool and falls on someone and has a lot of screaming probably but it’s ok!

-constantly lifts you out of the water and is like “FROM THE WAVES!!” And then drops you back down while giggling with a kiss on your cheek

-loves the games where you ride on his shoulders while you try to push another person

-he likes having you close to him to the point he drags you into the pool while giggling because you were completely dry and now here you are just in his arms and in da water!

-takes so many photos of you

-probably does really cheesy pick up lines and act like you guys aren’t in a happy relationship and everyone is cringing bcuz the entire pool party is just him being whipped for you <3

sunghoon

-loud introvert Sunghoon <3

-screaming in the corner of a pool while creating little waves to splash at anyone who comes too close to the little corner he dedicated to the two of u :>

-he loves scheming little pranks with u to randomly jump on other members or just scare them a little hehe

-spends most of his time messing with other people but he also cuddles with you on a little pool float

-the type of guy to huff and puff when his hair gets wet but immediately dgaf when he gets playful

-if you decide to relax on a pool float or at the poolside he’ll be your personal bodyguard and win a 6v1 to ensure your peace

-“if any of you mess w y/n prepare to face the might of the seas”

-probably the one to whine when it’s time to get out

-swims around and kisses your cheek every time he passes by you <3

-gets blushy and shy when the members tease him for being so whipped but he can’t help it, ur his person!!

-pretends like he didn’t act like an excited puppy all day once you two leave

sunoo

-has a designer floatie and some rubber duckies

-lounges with you on a pool float with matching sunglasses and is holding your hand

-intends to relax with you, reapplies your sunscreen for you every thirty minutes, make sure you’re well hydrated and enjoying yourself but he has the newest water gun model if his members decide to mess w him

-he is not here to play around!! if he’s tanning he will be tanning in peace and that water gun ensures it

-really good at water fights for some reason ?? I have no idea why I can just see him going absolutely crazy with water guns

-takes a bunch of photos of you because he thinks you look super cute all day!!

-loves to randomly splash members and then run away esp if you join in to assist

-nothing is funnier than seeing jay sputter because of a bunch of water sunoo splashed in his face while you two make your getaway to the other side of the pool

-hypes you up!! makes sure to show off to everyone how beautiful you are and how ur just such a stunner in your swimwear !!

-makes u feel like a boss bitch at the pool party no matter what, makes sure you enjoy yourself and have fun! :)

jungwon

-tried 9 times to calm down his members and gave up on the tenth

-does tiny little splashes to you so you don’t get super soaked and u don’t have any pain in ur lungs but when it comes to anyone else he’s summoning actual waves

-a water balloon gets thrown too far and hits a neighbor doing lawn work and so jungwon has to go apologize

-you were invited so jungwon wouldn’t scold the others too much <3 he can’t help but soften up the second he sees you

-“y/n, help me drown sunoo yeah?” w a little cute smile like he’s not scheming

-you really help him relax a lot!! he doesn’t feel like he has to be super stiff and in charge and he can just enjoy himself at a pool party

-constantly asks if you’re comfortable, too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, he wants to make sure you’re having as much fun as he does

-you two have matching towels it’s just a fact

-pulls the leader card for you if you’re losing a water fight <3

niki

-“love come here let’s splash jake!!”

-has so much fun u don’t understand

-squares up w jake during chicken fights and he ensures you win no matter the cost

-the type to whine and complain at first saying he doesn’t feel like swimming but then gets really into it

-he messes w u too but just a lot less, no randomly coming up from behind to scare you while he makes sure to push his members under the water 💀💀

-brings ice treats for you to eat in the pool when jay isn’t looking

-probably gets you matching jewelry for the pool party just so he can feel extra close to u :)

-loves being in the water with you, so much so he will pull you off of your chair and into the water

-quietly asks if you’re having fun every now and then to make sure you’re ok!! because as much as he enjoys the pool day he would enjoy it 1000x more if you felt the same way

-probably takes a ton of selfies w u by the end of the day because he thought you looked so cute :(

•••

tag list: @chansburgah

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 2.3

2.1 || 2.2 || [here] || 2.4

in todays part: what did chrissy mean by multiple options? is eddie still gonna be standoffish? we’ll see! :D i hope y’all enjoy this part :)

ignore how uhh unrealistic this is lmao it’s very handwavy about pretty much everything &lt;3

About a week later, just a few days before they were set to leave, Steve and Robin pulled into the address that Chrissy had given them. He was surprised to see that it appeared to be a Universal Home and RV lot. He spotted Chrissy and Eddie standing at the entrance of the building, so pulled up next to the car that was parked near by, having seen Eddie get into it during the in-person ‘interview’.

"Hey, guys!" Chrissy greeted cheerfully. Her warm, summer scent immediately let Steve know she was an omega, which he somehow hadn't known before. He wasn't really surprised, if he was honest.

"Hi Chrissy! Eddie," Steve responded, with a slight nod and shy smile to the alpha.

To his surprise, Eddie smiled warmly and greeted him, “Hey, Steve.”

"And you must be Robin," Chrissy said, reaching a hand out to shake the trembling alpha's.

Steve glanced at Robin to gauge her reaction and grinned at the enamored look she had on her face. He nudged her gently, startling her out of it.

“Oh- um- yes! That’s me! Robin! It is so nice to meet you in person, Chrissy,” Robin reciprocated the handshake. Steve noticed she looked like she was about to go on one of her rambles and decided to spare her the mortification. While Steve, and he doubted anyone else, didn’t mind it, he knew that Robin hated when she couldn’t stop talking.

Steve thought it added to her charm.

Robin thought he was full of shit.

“I can’t help but notice we’re at a dealership,” Steve said, interrupting whatever nonsense was about to cone out of Robin’s mouth. She shot him a grateful look, to which he returned a smile.

“Yes! So, as we discussed, we—Hell’s Fire Records—are responsible for your traveling expenses,” she explained with an easy grin. “The best way to do that, we figured, was to get you your own transportation. And because you two already live together, we figured we could do two birds with one stone and get you guys an RV.”

Steve and Robin stared at the other two in shocked silence, mouths open.

Steve was the first to recover, “You- that’s not- we can’t just accept an entire RV,” he breathed, shaking his head.

Eddie tilted his head with a small grin, “It’s part of the contract you signed.” he explained, “both of you did.” he added with a nod towards Robin.

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he'd only had Robin give it a once over. She had said everything looked fine. He supposed, this was probably ‘fine’ in her opinion.

“When it said ‘all travel and accommodations expenses paid’, I expected like, gas reimbursement, or paying for hotel rooms,” Steve exclaimed in distress, “not, fuckin’, an entire RV?”

“Oh, that’s also included,” Chrissy cheerfully explained, as if this was normal and not at all insane. Steve let out a noise that was definitely embarrassing for him to have made, but he couldn’t hold it in.

Eddie’s face softened at the sound, “Steve, we want you guys to be comfortable on the road, and you need space to teach Elodie in.”

Robin seemed to snap out of the reverie she had fallen into just then, “I mean,” she started hesitantly, turning to Steve, “they’re not wrong.”

“What?” Steve asked, turning to her in shock.

“I did see something like this in the contract,” she admitted sheepishly, “I just didn’t think that it would be an RV they bought for us. But it makes sense, because you can use part of the RV for a little classroom.”

Steve brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. He took a deep breath, and tried to calm his racing heart.

“Okay. Alright, fine. I guess,” he huffed, still not exactly happy with the information.

“Great!” Chrissy exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She turned towards the building and signaled to someone, which led to someone immediately appearing by their group.

“Ah, Mr. Harrington and Ms. Buckley, lovely to meet you,” the man said, smiling warmly. “My name is Winston Graves, but you may call me Winston. Ms. Cunningham told us a little about what we’re looking for and I chose three RVs for us to view today..”

Then the man was off, leading the group towards the center of the lot. Steve followed reluctantly and listened intently at the description of each of the RVs that Winston had chosen.

One had a bed on top of the drivers seat and a small bedroom at the back of the RV, with a living and a kitchen space between them, as well as a tiny bathroom between the kitchen and the back bedroom.

The second just had two twin beds in the same room at the back of the RV, and the last one was similar in layout, just a bit bigger in size.

Steve was torn between choosing one of the cheaper options—the last two described—or choosing the option that was better for what he needed to do while traveling, but was more expensive. He and Robin discussed it quietly, just out of ear shot of both Chrissy and Eddie.

“It’s more money, Robs,” he seethed quietly.

“You need enough room for a mini classroom,” Robin hissed back with a frown. “Besides, either way, we don’t owe them anything out of this. They’re buying it for us. It’s basically already paid for.”

Steve crossed his arms with a scowl. “You know I hate taking handouts,” he muttered, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

His family was rich, but even before he had been disowned because of his secondary gender, his family was weird about money. They often would buy him something and then expect something in return. For his sixteenth birthday, his biological father had bought him a car. Then, after, lorded it over him to be taken away if he didn’t do exactly what they wanted.

Not that Steve had been able to keep the car after his presentation. He hadn’t. His father had it towed and then probably sold it after.

To say he didn’t enjoy when people bought things for him was an understatement. He felt he had to prove himself to earn it.

“It’s literally part of the contract. Legally, they have to buy this for us,” Robin reminded gently, trying to control her scent to soothe Steve easier.

Steve’s nostrils flared as he scented her and he let out a sigh, “Fine. I think we should choose the first one.” he grumpily admitted.

Robin grinned, “Was that so hard?” she teased with no heat, leading them back to the others to share their decision.

“I’m glad you chose that one,” Eddie said, giving Steve a significant look, as if he knew exactly how their conversation had gone.

Steve smiled tensely and shrugged helplessly. “I needed to chose what would be best for Elodie,” he claimed. It was true, but that didn’t mean he had to like the decision.

“Alrighty!” Winston said enthusiastically, probably because he was about to make good commission, which Steve couldn’t fault the man for. He couldn’t tell what his designation was, likely due to some business mandated scent blockers, but Steve guessed he was either a beta or an alpha, based on how he held himself. Everyone was led into the building, and while Steve and Robin had to sign papers, Chrissy and Eddie were taking care of the payment. Steve felt a bit sick looking at the amount of money that was being spent and tried to remind himself that it was for Elodie.

Once they were done, Steve and Robin waited for the other two to finish doing the payment. The look on the employees face was pure joy, and while Steve wasn’t sure if he got more commission when someone paid in full, he was sure that it definitely didn’t hurt.

“At least we can bring more stuff now,” Robin said quietly beside him. Steve tore his gaze away from the others and looked at her.

“That’s true,” he hummed, tapping his fingers restlessly against the opposite bicep. “We’ll probably be able to drive it to our apartment so packing is easier.”

“Oh! I didn’t even think about that. Does that mean I get to drive?” Robin asked excitedly. While Steve was the primary driver—when they did drive—Robin had her license.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’, rolling his eyes afterwards.

“Fuck yeah,” Robin cheered quietly.

“Alright, here are the two sets of keys,” Eddie said, holding his hands out to each of them. Steve startled and gripped his chest with a gasp.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, relaxing as he reached out and grabbed the keys, “you startled me.”

“Just ‘Eddie’, actually,” the alpha teased with a wry grin. Steve’s cheeks turned pink, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Ha ha,” he said sarcastically with a huff.

The four of them walked out of the dealership together. Someone must have pulled the RV around front while they had filled out the paperwork and paid, as it was parked next to the cars. Steve let himself be a little excited about the prospect of having an RV—it was one of his dream vehicles, even as a pup. He dreamt of having a family he traveled with. His heart sank, but he shook off the feeling, refusing to feel worse about getting the RV than he already felt.

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[punkeropercyjackson]

Jason Todd's relathionship in my DC self-insert's verse for his birthday because i'd feel bad not making a post for him

Dick:They were close during the Robin and Discowing days but Dick dosen't take his shit as Red Hood so that allows them to actually repair their relathionship since Jason needs to not be coddled and Dick needs to be himself

Tim:Bros do NOT along but they do love eachother!!Just....less than they love literally everybody else lmao

Cass:Jason's stopped killing(with the exceptions of fascists and abusers)so they slowly settled into getting along for Stephanie's sake and now their relathionship is pretty good.They go out for Batburger and Dairy Super bi-monthly and Cass is the (Bat)man in charge

Duke:THEY'RE SO BROTHERS SOULMATES BY CHOICE IN EVERY UNIVERSE!!!!!!!!Duke is the 5th Robin and was officially adopted by Bruce when he was 11 and his Year One went well but then he got into a fight with him that scared him so badly he ran away in the dead of night and was found by Jason as the kickstarter to Rhato volume 2.There's official 18 Outlaws with a subset called The Kid Outlaws so he has friends his own age(including black friends!!)but Jason's the Outlaw he's closest to and Jason earned it by working his ass off to be his number one bro so Duke did his best to return the favor.Duke also stopped the N52 from happening with his powers and by in every universe and by choice,i mean fate is stacked against them but there's tons of Duke and Jason Variants across the DCverse who're just as connected as them

Stephanie:Transmasc4transfem found siblings fr fr.Stephanie is the fabled female-coded Jason Todd but actually and she's black like him(jamaican-korean to his afro-dominican)and they were both mentored and caretaken by Talia as Robin so that gives them even more reasons to be close on top of all their personality similarities and poor kid solidarity.They met during Batgirl 2009(66 issues)but didn't interact much until No Laws,Just Us(90s Young Justice,which Stephanie is a member of/The Cooler Rhato crossover mini)

Damian:Him and Stephanie are just a scrich behind Duke on 'Batkids Jason is closest to' and met when they were both sneaking into Summer's apartment at the same time during The Bird and The Dragon(Summer and Damian mini).They were forced not to fight by him and became close as time passed on and their size difference is frequently used for comedic gags,such as Damian sitting on Jason's shoulder to reach his food.Jason,Summer,Stephanie and Damian form up the 'Dead Sidekicks Force' as a moniker and a full on team title in an au run

Bruce:Very bittersweet as Jason decided to not move back to Gotham specifically to keep away from him for his own sake and bluntly told him that to his hurt but he understood where he was coming from so he let him go.They don't cut ties though,he still visits on holidays and say 'I love you' since they do and nothing could ever change that

Talia:They were intergenerational friends and that naturally led to them viewing eachother as mom and son so post-Lost Days,Talia manages to legally adopt Jason and he calls her 'Mamí'.Afrolatino/Brown cultural sharing abound because transracial adoption is beautiful and show helps out and even stays with The Outlaws sometimes from Taliacorp(reinvented Lexcorp,she took it over and turned it into a solarpunk chain in her own run)and in The Fortress,their base

Eddie:Childhood besties who got to see eachother regularly thanks to the inclusion of Summer,who's half Kryptofang(kryptonian dragon with the addition of telepathy),who flew himself and his two best friends to and inbetween Gotham,Metropolis and Hollywood with his wings.Eddie was Jason's bi awakening too,at 13 and them and Rose are the og Outlaws Trinity while them and Summer were The Magic Trio

Clark,Lois and Jon:Jason used to babysit Jon and grew up around Clark and Lois due to being best friends with the eldest Superkid(Summer)so they think of him as another kid of their's and nicknamed him 'Argonauta' and 'Curita' respectively because of his namesake.Obviously things were strained as of/post Utrh but they patched things up and he lives in Metropolis post-Rhato so he's kinda impossible to avoid(and vice versa!).Jon however never thought of him negatively due to his youth and they're eternally brotherisms

Rose:Instead of the weird vague ex-dating history we haven't expansion on in over a decade since it was established,Rose is SUMMER'S ex-girlfriend from his teenage dirtbag years and her and Jason are bitchy goth besties and supportive of eachother in everything no hesitation(even if the thing is bad and i mean for them,not vingilanteism)

Kyle:Another ex from Summer's sweet sixteen and kryptonian dancing queen(sorry LMFAO)days and he's been a Green Lantern since he was a teenager not for Jason's sake but because i think it makes him all the more interesting and tragic.Their dynamic is pretty much the same as in canon but longlasting and developed and explicitly attraction.Latino4Latino Jaykyle=The only valid Jaykyle

Artemis:Also starts off as a teenager in her debut for the same reasons as Kyle and her and Jason are again canon accurate because Outlaw!Artemis(which Kyle also is!!)was canon Rhato's only w but ambigious on wether it's romantic or platonic to the point of in-universe confusion from them so they settle on queerplatonic and find it fits and Jaysummtemis as in Jaysumm + qpp Jaytemis + Summtemis is real if you want it to be(*Jason voice*I love tall women)

Thad:That's his dad you bitch /ref /lh.Thad is one of the aformentioned Kid Outlaws and the Flashfam is black/white mixed because Candice Patton Iris >>>>>>>>>>>> and he has the relathionship with Jason people want from him and Mia but well-written and respectful of both characters.Goth punk audhd grumps duo!!

Raven:At the request and brilliant writing of my lil bro @bigblackeyesbitch,ressurected Raven is an Outlaw and they bounce off eachother comically even when she started off as an arc villain and are another m/f Outlaws qpp

Tam:Tam's an honorary Outlaw because my lil sib @insomniac-jay added her to one of my post's and it inspired me to add her to the cast to make up for her Red Robin 2009 fridging.Her and Jason are pretty much honorary siblings like we are🥰

Kory:Robin!Jason was a huge Starfire fanboy(and not a Wonder Woman fanboy because that hc's ooc and performative asf)so he freaked out when they met in a good way and Kory was flattered and amused and kept him as her lil cat.Jason is a Dickkory stan and says fuck Dickb*bs btw

[danvillecheese]

the dwampyverse and all its timelines

welcome to the analysis i've been promising for like two years! this will be phineas and ferb centric simply due to the sheer amount of episodes compared to milo murphy's law and hamster and gretel. with the inclusion of hamster and gretel, i will admit this has gotten a little less easy to navigate, but i'm hoping with a bit of analysis and suspension of belief, it'll be okay. ready? lets go!

the best way i can describe this first part is by providing a visual of how i see it. and using a three-circle venn diagram makes perfect sense with all of the overlapping and individual parts.

so - pictured above is said venn diagram. each part is its own timeline. ones where each show is their own timeline, ones where pnf/mml overlap, mml/hng overlap, pnf/hng overlaps and the one right in the centre where they all overlap. this doesnt include timelines where "endings" are separate (read: quantum boogaloo, act your age, doof 101, owca files... any ending that isnt last day of summer. but i'll get to those ones later). make sense?

1. where only phineas and ferb exists.

this works best before 2015. this timeline is the one that has zero murphy crumbs on it. dan and swampy haven’t yet had the idea of doing a show about a kid with awful luck and time travelling shenanigans. this is the most nostalgic timeline, for phineas has reigned over the disney channel cartoons for eight years. the lumberzacks dont exist, hamster and gretel dont save danville each week. pnf is its own show. no other shows have an influence on it.

adding to this - if you ignore any of the alternate timeline episodes and stop at last day of summer, you get my personal favourite way of watching the show. this one is basically just ignoring owca files, doof 101, all of mml and most importantly - act your age. I love the idea of an open book ending for these characters, especially for ones we saw on our tvs for over eight years [when it aired]. the events that take place after last day of summer are simply giving an idea of what COULD happen to our beloved cast, and without them, they really make no impact on the original story. the events before the end of summer are in no way impacted by the other alternate ending episodes.

2. where both phineas and ferb and milo murphy’s law exists

this is the canon, everything-exists-all-at-the-same-time timeline, pre-hamster and gretel. every piece of context works together, and everything is all connected. everything is canon! everyone is friends with each other! the pnf effect works! doof moves in with the murphy's, and this timeline is basically if you watched pnf and mml chronologically, without any of the alt ending episodes (in case you forgot which ones: quantum boogaloo, act your age, doof 101 and the owca files). this is the one i think we're all familiar with - it also includes candace against the universe (mostly uh... broadly speaking, the lumberzacks are the only mml thing in there).

3. where only milo murphy’s law exists

a timeline where pnf and hng are nonexistent. this timeline would probably exclude anything past season one, really. the crossover would not work. maybe even in this timeline the pistachions take over everything and the human characters cease to exist. (eleanor shellstrop this is the bad place!.jpeg) this further pushes the point (that I haven’t made - I’ve been thinking it I just haven’t said it lmao) that you can’t have milo murphys law without phineas and ferb. the crossover plot proves it. both in the real world AND in mml.

4. where just hamster and gretel exists

this one is a little hard to explain, especially since hng has only just finished its first season. there are a few pnf references in this show but it stands on its own feet much more than mml did. i think the likelihood of hng existing in its own timeline works a lot better than mml - but the chance of there being a surprise crossover is moderately high. like i said, it's a little hard to analyse this since its that much more removed from its predecessors.

5. where milo murphy’s law and hamster and gretel exist

this is a very unlikely scenario, but there is a chance a timeline like this exists somewhere. it’s a bit difficult to analyse or even prove since there haven’t been any kind of references or even characters that pop up in hng from mml. I wouldn’t expect the opposite either, considering that mml ended in 2019 and hng didn’t exist until after that, so hng within mml is basically impossible without a third season.

these last two timelines make a lot less sense, especially since hng still has stories to tell and we havent seen mml characters there yet (well... unless you count doof. hes technically a mml character, right? as much as some of us dislike that fact? haha. ahahaha.)

6. where phineas and ferb and hamster and gretel exists

this one works. i think it’s basically how dtva thinks it works (basically completely ignoring mml’s entire existence lmao) but this is basically the canon timeline of hng currently. but we’ll wait and see if there’s a crossover.

7. where all of phineas and ferb, milo murphy’s law and hamster and gretel exist all at once

like I say, a surprise crossover could happen (but based off what happened with the pnf effect I can’t even imagine how messy this would get) so yes, they could exist all at once. and they probably do, just that hng is a lot further removed from its predecessors in terms of references and characters popping up out of nowhere (doof and his inators don’t seem to have much importance yet, but who knows how it’ll end). this timeline, basically, is for those who don’t really mind that everything’s in a collective universe, and it seems like the easiest one to comprehend if you aren’t pedantic about all of this.

but what about the episodes where timelines end?

you’re probably here thinking okay, so what? there’s different timelines. this isn’t news. what about the other individual episodes that are within the umbrella timeline? I like to think of them as individual timelines within the show, along with all the other ones mentioned above.

quantum boogaloo

timelines have been a thing pretty much since season 2 of phineas and ferb, notably in the episode quantum boogaloo where they go forward in time and see a potential future where stacy is the president of uruguay. this is an example of something ‘canonically’ happening after last day of summer, 20 years in the future. this episode has a couple of potential timelines - the one where everything is fine, and the one where doof is emperor and everyone is named joe. the first timeline has candace ending up with jeremy and having three kids, along with ferb at camp david and phineas at an awards ceremony in switzerland. however, this particular timeline doesnt match up equally with act your age, since their ages dont line up. in quantum boogaloo, pnf are aged 30 twenty years later, in aya, pnf are aged 18 ten years later. this means they could either be 8 or 10 in the original summer, depending on the timeline. the second one is pretty much null to me since they time travel back and both of the future timelines cancel out.

doof 101

so. this is an episode i havent seen for a while. however, this is one of the perfect examples since the theme for doof 101 says "and this all takes place in fall so don't let the timeline throw you" like hiiii thank you for acknowledging that this is a separate timeline! there's a short bit in the title that shows doof facing either prison time or teaching at the high school in court, and its something we don't see the events leading up to. sure, he's done crimes against humanity but there weren't ever any consequences during the show. who turned him in? why is he on trial? what happened between him being evil and becoming a high school science teacher? and why does this monobrow edward rooney ass guy have beef with him and charlene out of nowhere? timelines, dude. got me stressed out and its not even my show.

act your age

[through gritted teeth] this episode also shows another potential canonical ending for the cast. phineas ends up with isabella 10 years after last day of summer, showing that this particular timeline has the kids aged around 8 or 9 in the original summer. we all know my thoughts on this particular ending, notably posted here. this timeline is easy to ignore if you dislike it, like the majority of us.

what does line up with the original summer, however, is doof's b-plot in act your age. I'm not a huge hater of his arc in this episode, and honestly, it might be his most in-character timeline ending out of all of them. yes, you heard me, theres something i dont dislike about act your age. like i said in the post linked above, i dont find it hard to believe he would bowl with perry and carl and monogram every week. he would totally have a mid-life crisis that wasn't real, like this guy canonically can't even hate christmas. this is so in character for him! in terms of it being a different timeline though, the only proof i have is that it's one of many different timeline ending episodes.

last day of summer

this episode is kinda like a flagship for the timelines, and as mentioned above, my favourite ending. i don’t think I need to reiterate it, but it really just provides an open ending for the entire cast, and makes room for anything else to happen. I’m curious to see how it pans out in the reboot; if they keep the continuity and acknowledge that ldos happened, or if they just kinda skip over it if it’s true that the new seasons will happen in the summer after the original one. but don’t worry - if the reboot adds any kind of canon divergence (I’m literally counting on it) You Will Certainly Hear From Me About It. lol

the owca files

I'll admit i haven't watched owca files for a number of years but i still remember bits of it. its a very strange timeline to me. i understand that doof is legally an ocelot and can be an agent but it does feel like the beginning of that out-of-characterness he displays in mml. and i guess the owca files is canon there, right? the bit with monogram during the pnf effect?

this also includes the pine tree. it feels like a way of letting us know owca files is in a different timeline. the flynn-fletcher house gets blown up, they get new plates, and we have symbolism of the end of an era with a pine tree in their backyard.

milo murphy's law

this one in particular is mostly just the pnf/mml overlap but ensures that doof ends up as professor time. if you've seen mml i don't think i need to explain it - after last day of summer (and owca files if ur nasty) the events of mml occur chronologically as if its one continuous timeline.

wait! what about the other canon divergent episodes?

ones that aren’t necessarily an ending but are set smack bang in the middle of the show with no explanation? don’t worry. I got you.

phineas and ferb christmas vacation

this episode features doof being evil in the middle of winter. dan povenmire has said he relapsed, but this is a perfect example of different timelines. a lot of the “ending” episodes were written and aired well before last day of summer so the chance of them knowing how the show was going to end was likely very little, if not zero. so, let’s imagine that last day of summer doesn’t happen. none of that arc happens, it’s just doof being passively evil throughout the year and then this christmas event happens. i don’t think he ever stopped being evil in this timeline. the chance of him just getting less… violent with his schemes is probably the best way of thinking about it. hell, he got perry a present. yes, it was a vase, but would the s1 heinz have done that? probably not. he’s definitely less evil as the show progresses, and even an episode like this one that aired in season 2 shows how quickly they turned it around.

on the other hand - the boys make their santa clubhouse invention and candace stresses what to get jeremy as a gift. does she try and bust them? surprisingly, no. her main focus is jeremy, and when it all goes south she’s in on what the boys are doing when santas elves show up. she mentions “what’s different this year than last year?”, insinuating that the boys weren’t inventing anything before the summer that the show is set in, and that this episode is definitely set after that summer. the B plot is definitely more solid proof of the alternate timeline, with heinz “relapsing” although I struggle to believe that with all the canon divergency that happens within the show and in mml/hng the chances of it just being a relapse are very remote.

that’s the spirit!

this one is similar in that it diverges from our last day of summer ending. doof is still evil, and candace - wait, she doesn’t even try and bust them. she’s keen to trick or treat with the gang and then go to jeremy’s party. she doesn’t even try and bust them. (man, it’s almost like it’s another timeline or something.)

back to doof though - he might have relapsed like in the christmas vacation episode, but he’s not necessarily evil here either. sure, he declared war on grass for an unknown reason and turned himself into a were-cow, but it’s not established that he wants to take over the tri state area like usual. if anything, it’s the opposite. he runs from the masses like it’s a witch hunt.

the curse of candace

this episode is all fine until the end where candace turns to dust and phineas says "we're gonna need a dustpan and some glue." there isnt much else to say about this one, but it indicates another timeline where candace is glued back together afterwards. and she’s also a vampire.

happy new year!

this is set after the summer the show is set in, considering that jeremy and coltrane are at the party as candace and stacy's respective dates. doof is still evil as his plot is to become ruler of the tri-state area. candace makes one last attempt at busting her brothers. this is definitely another timeline, and also apparently one where gangnam style exists. pretty easy to understand - doof doesnt have his giving-up-evil arc and continues to be passively evil like always. this could also work chronologically with christmas vacation, where he tries his naughty-inator and then a week later comes up with the resolution-changer-inator. candace's arc is a little different, she could have stayed consistent and tried to bust the boys from summer onwards, only getting to new years and wanting to change her ways with a new years resolution.

for your ice only

evil doof is back again in the fourteen days of winter vacation that fall between christmas and new years'. for him, this could be an evil scheme that takes place at some point in between christmas vacation and new years, or it could be its own timeline altogether. candace also attempts to bust the boys again, as per usual.

what's interesting about this one though, is the fact they refer back to football x7 when talking about hockey z9. and you're probably thinking 'obviously? whats ur point' and yes. obviously they bring up the original episode when referencing the sport with the same name format. but this also implies its in the same timeline as the football x7 game, meaning there's at least two timelines that divert off my fair goalie - one that doesn't include hockey z9 and one that does (this episode). and this one (i'm circling back) includes evil doof. bam!

escape from phineas tower

what! this is a normal episode, right? if that was your reaction upon reading that subtitle, you'd be thinking the same as me, until you remember the ending where the tower extends its forcefield around the entire milky way galaxy. but here's where things get really interesting. what film, may i ask, has a plot where the ensemble cast has to fly to another planet to rescue two other ensemble cast members? thats right, candace against universe! this means that catu is set in a timeline that doesn't include the escape from phineas tower episode, since they're able to exit the milky way galaxy and enter the vroblok cluster. this would be impossible if it were in the same timeline as this episode, since they would have stopped at the dome and wouldn't have been able to get to feebla-oot.

she’s the mayor

honourable mention to this episode since it features time travel and timeline fuckery and I never see anybody talk about it!

"Back at the golf course, Roger is astounded at how fast the game is going as Dr. Doofenshmirtz points out that the slight chance that the Accelerate-inator could destroy the very fabric of space-time and possibly the entire universe is a small price to pay to get done with the game. Perry then breaks the Accelerate-inator using a golf club, causing time to flow backwards at the exact moment when Linda and Candace are about to bust Phineas and Ferb, also undoing all of the day's events back to the announcement in City Hall and causing an alien from another universe to appear.

At City Hall, Mayor Doofenshmirtz prepares to announce the winner of the Mayor-For-A-Day Essay Contest. The alien destroys the Accelerate-inator, causing the time-line to be altered once again as the new honorary mayor is announced: the old coot and telling everyone that any gold that they find is now his, causing Candace to lament, "I was robbed."" (from the pnf wiki)

what would’ve happened if doof's machine wasn’t destroyed and set the timeline back into place? the fabric of time and space would have been destroyed, and there is a very high chance there would have been a last-day-of-summer-esque situation where everything within the void would cease to exist. right from the start of the episode, it begins with a clock chiming, so from the beginning we are made aware that time will somehow have significance, which it does. after the timeline resets, we hear the clock chime again, which lets the viewer know we're now in a different timeline. there don't seem to be any repercussions of this timeline fuckery later in the show since it doesn't get mentioned again.

night of the living pharmacists

second honourable mention goes to this ending that @momphineasandferbmadeablog reminded me of (tysm bestie) where it "ends" with stacy turning off her tv as if the entire episode was a horror film the whole time. however, even before verifying, i had a feeling it was debunked and its just the ending of the grievance film. and i was right.

"Dan Povenmire made it clear that the entire episode was canon instead of a film Stacy was watching, and that the "The End" card on Stacy's TV was merely the "The End" title card of the Grievance movie she was watching." (from the pnf wiki)

there isnt a citation for it and none of his tweets showed up while i was looking for actual proof but i definitely remember him saying it somewhere, but please, absolutely feel free to think of it as a separate timeline! without dan saying it's a canon episode, there isn't actually any proof within the episode that it isn't its own timeline.

across the second dimension/tales from the resistance: back to the second dimension

and for our third and final honourable mention, this one is basically the existence of the second dimension. I haven't added it as its own since the concept is pretty obvious - its another dimension where a different timeline occurs. i mean, idk if i need to fully explain it, if youve seen the film and the s4 episode you know what happens. it's explicitly stated to be another dimension, however the specific mention of timelines is nonexistent. semantics, yes, but i do really feel like atsd is separate from all of it.

it's certainly a timeline that could happen - doof could lose his choo-choo and eventually take over the tri-state area and the events of the film would occur, but the fact that the main characters cross over and meet each other puts it into a different category for me. but by all means, feel free to think of it as yet another timeline!

I want to specifically mention: this list of episodes is not at all an exhaustive number of timelines. the way I see it, this is just the ones that are “labelled” (for lack of a better word) as their own timelines. there can be as many or as few timelines within the dwampyverse as you like. this analysis is not a rulebook, but rather answering the conundrum with one solution out of an infinite number of possibilities.

the dwampyverse and its "current year syndrome"

i think we can all agree that phineas and ferb is a relatively timeless show, in that you could watch it at any point in the past fifteen years and it wouldn't feel particularly out of place. that being said, the technology used in the show makes it feel aged or weirdly out of time. most notably, the switch between candace having a flip phone in the first three seasons and a touch-screen phone in everything post-season four. this is clearly influenced by the smartphone boom that occurred in the 2010s when iphones became mainstream, and thus impacted everyday life, including in tv and film.

so, when the animators jumped on this trend, phineas and ferb became a lot less timeless. candace owning something like a flip phone, something that didn't even exist for a long period of time in real life, felt less like something that was trying to keep up with the times than when she suddenly appeared on screen with a smartphone. not to mention the alexa joke in candace against the universe. now that was a jumpscare.

if you did want to carbon date the summer that the show is set in, like this post did for example, and if you're like me, you might headcanon phineas and ferb's summer taking place somewhere between 2009 and 2012. the other times where they've crossed over is set whenever it makes sense. the pnf effect? i think its pretty much canon that it takes place in 2017, what with all the pop culture references like pokemon go, dabbing, and uptown funk. definitely things you can date back to that mid 2010s era.

milo murphy's law also makes sure it stays current too, like specifically mentioning the year 2016 when the lumberzacks formed, milo's bag of toothbrushes labeled 2012-2014, and king pistachion doing a selfie with everyone which is like the most 2016 thing ever. (you guys remember the oscars selfie?) there's certainly some purpose behind dating some of the events within the show, since its entire B-plot is about time travel, but it doesn't feel like its really trying to be a current show. at least, not until they have references and allusions to pop culture things like ducky mo-go.

hamster and gretel has what is unfortunately the worst display of the three - there's a lot of social media references in the show. not necessarily memes, but just a lot of display of the characters using social media. the first one that comes to mind is the destructress, where her typical Thing is her doing a livestream or some kind of story update announcement with her phone, clearly showing that this is a 2020s cartoon, and it feels the need to be very current. hell, eight year old gretel has an iphone in this show, but i won't go down the track of why that fact alone is so weird to me since it'll derail this entire analysis.

granted there are a LOT of inconsistencies throughout these three shows but the current year syndrome, although sometimes unavoidable, proves the fact there are multiple timelines - and they can be traced back to candace's flip phone.

so, what do we do with this?

I personally love cherry-picking the parts of canon that exist, purely from a selfish point of view but also because this universe allows for it. there are a lot of different endings or alternate paths these characters can go down, and as exemplified by act your age, we can either ignore them or embrace them. sure, it’s unlikely but there are some people who like the aya ending and say it’s their own canon, and others who like the ending where doof becomes professor time. or there's others, like me, who absolutely adore last day of summer as their timeline end. the openness of it in such a positive light makes it feel like it’s not even the ending for these characters.

it also begs the question - does everything go back to the status quo at the end of every phineas and ferb episode? well... it can't, really. most character arcs within the show are tied to events that happen, like monty and vanessa getting together, or buford joining the backyard gang, or even doof's slow arc to being a good, if not morally grey character.

no, it’s not a big deal that there’s a lot of different timelines in the sense you have to constantly think about it as you watch it. but it does present us with the classic conundrum: which one is actually canon? and to this, i say, pick your own ending. if you like cherry picking as much as I do, indulge yourself. skip episodes you don't like. ignore parts of canon that don't actually have that much impact on the timeline. hey, its not like the show doesn't allow for it!

[genericpuff]

Hey puff you have a day job right? How do you keep the motivation/discipline to create comics regularly and be an active blogger?

I've mentioned this a few times before and generally try to be as transparent as possible as I can when it comes to my real life circumstances and how they affect - and allow - my comic production schedule, because when it comes right down to it, I'm in a very privileged position that allows me certain luxuries that other comic creators simply don't have. And I don't really like the idea of someone seeing what I do and like... thinking that's a bar they have to meet because it often comes with a complete misinterpretation of what circumstances I'm in that may vary extremely from their own. Y'all are seeing a tip of a very large iceberg, y'know?

I do have a day job, I work as a tattoo artist, however my schedule is very much my own to control and while that comes with a lot of pressure to find my own work, it also allows for me to have flexibility with my other projects. That said, I'm only able to be that flexible because when I'm making money, I'm making really decent money (and with far less hours than I would need to make my living if I was working in retail still) and when I'm not, I've got a partner who makes a more consistent living that may have a much smaller hourly than what I get hourly for tattooing, but is still a decent hourly compared to minimum wage that he's able to handle bills while I get back on my feet (and there have been tons of times where our situations have been reversed, where I've been making good money and he's been needing extra help; it's honestly kind of some cosmic prank, the two of us can never seem to be doing financially well at the same time lmao)

Right now, we're just starting to come out of a slow winter season, so I've had more time than ever to sink into my personal projects. It does get stressful at times having such inconsistent payouts through the ebbs and flows of tattooing, but I try to be at peace with those slow seasons because it allows me to work on my passion projects. Especially when I've got not one, not two, but three separate tattoo expos (so far) to do this summer, which is gonna be (hopefully) three separate 30 hour weekends of straight tattooing haha And while I say hopefully (because yay good money and good publicity!) it's also gonna be extremely stressful and exhausting so I'm trying not to take the slower season for granted, because I know I'll be wishing for it again when I'm in the midst of it. And that's not even including all the other events I have booked this year that are purely for vendoring (so unrelated to tattooing) that are also gonna be crazy.

That said, the past couple years have felt particularly hard, but I know it's because we're unfortunately in the midst of a massive economic recession that has seen people spending less on luxury things - and that includes tattoos. But my comics and other personal projects give me a great outlet for my ideas and thoughts, and while projects like Rekindled are unfortunately not something I feel comfortable monetizing, they are ultimately projects that bring me a lot of joy and I think that's the best I can ask for nowadays while I wait in the hopes that things get better soon in the real world.

As for getting that motivation/discipline, I don't really have one solid answer. The reality is just that I've been doing this for a long, long time, so not drawing comics feels like not doing any other established good habit. What you may feel wondering how I manage to work so long on a single comic project with such hefty updates is undoubtedly pretty close to what I feel wondering how the fuck people manage to go to the gym LOL It's taken a lot of routine building and repetition and it's as natural as breathing to me at this point, I just feel gross when I've gone a day without drawing comics in some form. That routine has helped me get better and faster at creating as well. When I started my first long-form comic series, I started out just drawing a page a day - often taking 3-4 weeks to complete a chapter - and by the time it was done 7 years later, I was putting out a chapter a week. And then that turned into 60-90 panels of full color art a week... nah, I don't recommend anyone do that on their own like I did, I can't even do that anymore and looking back I'm in shock how I was able to pull that off, and not in an amazed "why can't I do that anymore, I used to be so awesome!" way, but more in a "oh god why did I do that to myself, no wonder I'm burnt out" way.

And honestly that's kind of the reality of it, while I'm putting out consistent updates of Rekindled that are in full color and are - in my opinion - some of the best work I've put out in the last few years, I'm also struggling to rebuild habits with my original project because I've simply fallen out of practice. I'm one person responsible for all the work I've put out, and yet when it comes to looking at the projects I still have sitting on the backburner, I still feel a sort of internalized version of Person A looking at Person B and asking "how the hell do you do it???" just like you're asking me now lol I'm working on it though and trying to get back to it little by little, day by day. On rare occasions I actually get something productive done and make progress LOL

That said, none of it has come without consequences. I've spent the majority of my artistic journey working on the same project which I feel has severely stunted my outreach and set me back in my growth; after all, we only ever see and judge the merit of webcomic projects based on the 1% of people who got lucky and achieved some semblance of fame and recognition out of it, you never see the people who have spent years still picking away at the same project from the bottom with little to show for it besides the work that's going unseen. I've also already got way more back and hip pain than one should have by their late 20's and that's definitely a consequence of spending so many hours every single day working on comics. As much as I've built some great habits that have made my comics and art better, I've also ended up with some very bad ones that a lot of people don't see because all they see is the results from the good ones. So that's something that I hope I can at least warn people about, even as a reminder to stand up and stretch every now and then and get their proper amount of sleep LMAO

And then when it comes to the blogging... I'm an AuDHD person with a lot to say and I can type at 137/wpm. So that's all there is to that ♡( ◡‿◡ )

[ophernelia]

1-30 for lou and imogen

Well damn. Aight.

1. Where and how did they meet?

Summertime. Copperdale, NY. Right outside of Hattie's home. It's in the pilot episode of the series.

2. Was it love at first sight?

They were seven so... no lol.

3. If it was not love at first sight, how and when did they know it was love?

So, Lou knew before Imogen did. For him it was the summer they both turned 15. Imogen was upset because Krystle was making fun of her for not having her first kiss yet. Lou being Lou he offered to do it. Even though he had a girlfriend at the time. Kiss didn't mean anything to her, but it took Lou's head through a loop. He broke things of with the girl he was dating the next day. We got to see it click in Imogen's head. It was when she was talking to her mom before she hung out with Lou at the campsite. That was in episode 2 of the series.

4. What feature(s) do they find most attractive about their partner?

For Imogen, she'd say it's his eyes, lips, and hair. (Even though he cut it. She's upset about that.) He's also got really nice teeth, so seeing him smile is always a treat. Lou would say the same for Imogen, but he'd also include her legs, chest, and feet. I don't know. He gives me that vibe that feet would be his thing. Imogen's are nice. Tattooed, soft, and she always has a fresh pedicure.

5. What traits / personality aspects do they like most about their partner?

Imogen adores how sociable and chatty Lou is. He'd talk to a brick if it could talk back. She thinks his ability to speak to anyone makes him very brave. For Lou, he adores how sweet Imogen is but primarily towards him. It's a different sweetness and softness that she shows to other people. With him it's how lovingly she'll stare him or how sweet she'd talk to him. As if she had honey dripping from her lips. It's a side of herself that only he gets to see. He thinks it's the best side.

6. Do they have any habits their partner finds annoying?

Imogen is a bed snacker. She likes to crawl in bed with some chips or fresh veggies and just go to town. Lou hates it. He hates the crumbs, he hates the trash. He likes keeping the bed in pristine condition. There's only a few exceptions he'll make and none of them is food related. Lou doesn't stick to a side of the bed and it works Imogen's nerves. She likes to sleep on the right side of the bed. It's in the perfect position. It's close to Sozin's bed. It's close to thefan they have in the bedroom. Lou will fall asleep wherever. Right, left, middle- doesn't matter. He's huge and he takes up so much space. She hates it!

7. Is there anything about their partner they would like to change?

Lou thinks Imogen is the pinnacle of perfection, so he wouldn't change a thing. If you asked Imogen, she's refer to the last question lmao.

8. Where did they have their first date?

Their first real date was to the bronx zoo. It was a day trip. Lou planned the whole thing since Imogen couldn't decide where they should go. He didn't mind. He wanted to take her to see the giant anteaters because he knew she loved them. They hadn't been to the zoo together since they were kids. It was a nice date.

9. When and where did they have their first kiss?

I mentioned it earlier, but it was the summer they turned 15 in Hattie's garden. It was really brief. Just a peck. Nothing memorable for Imogen, but it had an impact on Lou.

10. How long have they been together?

At this current point in the series they've officially been together for about 2 years.

11. Will they stay together for a long time?

I'm sure it comes as a surprise to no one, but Lou and Imogen are end-game. They are my soulmate couple. There's not a lifetime they haven't been together.

12. Do they have many problems in the relationship or just a few? Or none?

They don't have problems often because they've gotten used to each other over the years. They usually squash them relatively quickly, but some times they'll have disagreements that span over a few days. Nothing too deep. It's usually just lighthearted problems.

13. Is there a big age difference between the partners, a small difference or are they the same age?

They're the same age. Imogen is older by two months.

14. Do other people approve or disapprove of the relationship?

They had a rough start, but people love them together now.

15. If someone disapproves of the relationship, who is it, and why do they disapprove?

The most interesting culprit is Dallas. Though she loves them together now, it took some getting used to. She loves Lou, but she felt like the two of them moved way too fast. From getting together, moving in together, getting engaged- it all happened in the span of a few months. They're both still very young and she just wanted them to save some stuff for the future.

16. Does the couple care if people disapprove of them being together?

Imogen adores her mom and wants her approval. As does Lou, but whether they got it or not they'd still be together.

17. Are they married?

Yes but they haven't had the ceremony just yet. Imogen is a Carranza now.

18. If they’re not married, do they want to be?

Lou nor Imogen every really thought marriage would be in the cards for them. Imogen had always been a little too strange to be liked openly, so she didn't think it was a possibility. Lou knew he'd want to get married one day after growing up seeing Dallas and Cale. After the events of the summer before the series began, he didn't think it'd be possible. Who'd wanna marry a monster? They were both painfully wrong.

19. Would they elope, have a small intimate wedding, big fancy wedding, or something else?

They're having a small wedding. Just a few friends and family members in Greece.

20. Where would they go on their honeymoon or dream vacation?

The two of them don't want to have a honeymoon. Travelling isn't much of a luxury for them, because of the amount of wealth Imogen's family has. If they want to go on a trip then all they have to do is make time for it.

21. Do they have any children? Do they want any?

Not yet. Imogen is fine with two. Lou wants a basketball team.

22. What is their favourite thing to do together?

Anything and everything as long as they're alone. They love their friends. A lot honestly, but nothing beats the two of them just hanging out around the house together uninterrupted. They love sitting down and getting into a good show together. Something scandalous and maybe a little trashy.

23. Where is their favourite place to go together?

It used to be the pier when they lived in Copperdale, but now it's a thrift store in their neighborhood. It's over near a pizza shop and ice cream parlor, so they make a whole event of it. They'll shop, grab a bite to eat, and then walk around the area.

24. Do they have a song?

I used to think it'd be Roslyn, but no they'd love "Beach Baby" by Bon Iver. It's one of the songs Lou would often ask Imogen to play on her guitar before they went to bed. It's their thing.

25. Do they have any pet names / nicknames for each other?

I don't think a day has gone by in recent years that Lou hasn't called Imogen "angel". Sometimes he may slip in a "baby" but it is almost always "angel". I haven't found anything that's stuck for Imogen. She's said "baba" or " lovebug" but nothing really works for her. I think it's because she just really loves his name. She likes saying it. I mean it's his, so how could she not?

26. Are they jealous?

YES. IMOGEN MORESO THAN LOU.

27. Is this a first relationship for either of them?

This is Imogen's first relationship. No one has ever liked her enough to ask until Lou. Lou has had plenty.

28. How do they show affection for each other?

They're very hands on with each other. Lots of hugs, lots of kisses. Imogen loves doing Lou's hair. Combing it, washing it, anything really. He enjoys a good scalp massage so he happily allows her to. Lou loves a good smooch. On the cheeks, on her forehead, on her lips- he's not at all particular.

29. How do they cheer their partner up when they’re sad?

Imogen can help Lou get out of a funk by going on a walk. He likes to walk and talk about what's bothering him. So, rain or shine, if Lou is feeling down then Imogen'll suggest a walk. Imogen likes a good cuddle. Especially in any position where Lou will lay on her chest and talk to her. He can usually get a giggle out of her just by rambling as he always does. She can't be upset for long after that.

30. Is either of the partners a ‘hopeless romantic’?  

Honestly.. netiher of them are. If something happened between the two of them it would completely shatter their perception of love. It's the only romantic love either of them have known.

[captainsimagines]

meet me in the afterglow || Halsin BG3 || Part One

Summary: She aided everyone, himself included, and he hated how useless he felt. But if he were to simply open his eyes, he would see that she too was losing her mind.

Pairing(s): Halsin x Durge Drow Tav

Trope(s): Slow Burn; Fantasy; Established Canon Scenes; Male Love Interest POV

Based on the Song(s): Afterglow by Taylor Swift

Total Word Count: 30,000 +

If you would rather read on AO3, here is the link

This is a single one-shot, split into 2 parts.

Warnings: This story deals with heavy sexual situations, strong language, canon-typical violence, self-harm, fantasy elements, emotional backstories, past memories of necrophilia, the "Dark Urge", "resist dark urge" storylines, past rape/non-con, attempted sexual assault, and minor character death. You are responsible for your own media consumption. This work is strictly 18+ only. This is purely fanfiction.

Author's Note: Look at me, venturing into a new fandom. Well, I've been apart of it since December, but this is my first BG3 fanfic! Don't ask why it's so damn long and why I didn't split it into chapters. Easier this way in terms of posting, lmao. Anyway, it's summer vacation, I've got my teaching credential and Masters degree, and we're writing fanfics again!!!!!!! If you're not typically of this fandom... Hop on this train, you will not regret it. Buy the game. I swear. Love you.

xxMoni

---

The first time Halsin heard Tav scream was during the invasion of the Last Light Inn, when Mol was snatched by a devil and Rolan dodged a blade as he reached to grab her. Tav had climbed the roof in time to see her being flown in the direction of Moonrise, and that was that. It was an angry scream, one that surprised him and Jaheira alike. Since finding Mol’s eyepatch and defeating Ketheric, Tav hadn’t made a sound resembling it. 

Good, he figured. There was no sense in acting reckless when the facts aren’t known, and a level-headed leader would serve the greater good. He had wanted to slip and scream his frustration for years now, but who would that benefit? Halsin found that if he and his companions held it in for just a while longer, then soon they could find peace, harmony, balance—he had to believe that.

For three hundred and fifty years, Halsin explored the minds, souls, and the willing bodies of countless people. He has taken and been taken, suffered and accepted, led and also been led a fool. Besides the shadow curse, there was nothing that truly haunted him to the very marrow of his bones. He was everything an Archdruid was expected to be, and that included being an expert at hiding one’s fear to level the playing field. 

But recently, he’s been haunted by an odd feeling in his stomach. Thaniel and Oliver were healing together, Ketheric Thorm had been defeated, and he and his companions were readying their supplies to take the two-night trip into Baldur’s Gate. There shouldn’t be anything else plaguing his muscles, and especially not his digestion. Not even the bear could truly keep food settled for long. He suspected that as the land healed, he felt it. He felt each vine untangle, each pebble overturn, each sick creature drain and die. He was usually familiar with plant life dying and sprouting anew, but this was something else entirely. It was the undead dying, the sickness shriveling, the living succumbing and promising their return. It was a sickness extinguished, a sickness that apparently needed to pass through him and any other person connected to nature in the surrounding area. 

He excused himself after dinner, and waited for the oddity to start.

Just as he nearly slipped into trance, the flap of his tent smacked him in the face. 

“Now that we’ve healed this land, where are you going to fuck off to?”

He grumbled, opening his eyes to meet those of a seemingly unbothered Tav. 

Halsin had a bit of a crush. A crush on the violent, self-serving narcissist drow who was going to get them all killed before they faced the real threat awaiting them in Baldur’s Gate. Granted, Halsin formed a bit of a crush on most people he encountered, but Tav was different. The feelings had snuck up on him.

Tav often spoke of utilizing the gifts the Dream Visitor had offered them, but he had never seen her actually consume an extra tadpole. Tav loved to fill Astarion’s and Gale’s heads about godhood, about revenge, but Halsin was there when she almost murdered Araj for suggesting Astarion bite her, and even accidentally wandered in on her and Gale watching the stars he had conjured. Hell, she was the first to grant Karlach that long-awaited hug. And when Shadowheart had the chance to prove herself worthy to her dark Lady, something raw flashed in Tav’s eyes. Something that ultimately persuaded Shadowheart differently. 

The only thing Tav had done recently that really pissed Halsin off was recruiting Minthara at Moonrise. What kind of person forgave someone who threatened a whole Grove? A whole civilization? His people.

But that was the thing: Tav was a person willing to forgive. Well, maybe not forgive. Forget, more like.

And he had forgiven her for the murder of Alfira because, Oak Father preserve him, he believed her confusion. Her surprise. Her… urges. Hells, he came close to killing Kahga back at the Emerald Grove. 

“Who says I’m fucking off anywhere else?”

Tav snorted, his curt response certainly something he’d been working on for a while now. He had remained civil with her, polite even. But the way she spoke to him had him questioning his abilities. He had cultivated mountains of patience over his long years, but she was just too good at breaking off pieces. No way she would be able to flatten him, but he worried himself over the prospect. 

“You’re seriously going to follow us to Baldur’s Gate?”

“I am no stranger to the city.”

Tav plopped down beside his bedroll and fiddled with the strap around his arm. He fought hard to keep so much as a twitch from his face. “It’s a shitty place. You’ll probably find one tree. Maybe two.”

“Do you want me to leave your side?”

Her expression held steady. “No. Just wondering what your plans were.”

Despite her attitude, Halsin had no doubts about whether or not Tav wanted him to remain. He never dropped hints about him leaving after the shadow-cursed lands were no more, and he completely expected to make the trip with everyone else. They helped him here, why wouldn’t he help them to the end? 

“Then you’ll have me. I will remain at your side until you have no use for me, or until my body can give no more. You need not worry about sudden disappearances or ill remarks from my end.”

She rolled his words around in her mind, the points of her ears wiggling slightly. “At least now I can see you in city clothes.”

He sat up slightly, his smirk wide. “Have you been fantasizing about what I would look like in such clothing?”

“Armor is a drag. I’ve been fantasizing what everyone would look like in silks and cotton.”

He hummed, settling back down and placing his hands behind his head. She definitely was a weird one. He couldn’t say for certain if she fancied him or not. She had inquired about past lovers, but hadn't pressed further when he mentioned bedding alone. She had joked about feeling lonely at nights and went so far as to wink at him, but she gave those same winks at Wyll. She had even fought to venture into the Shadowfell with him, but that same ferocity rose when she encountered Rolan fighting shadows alone. She was difficult to read, but he had only himself to blame. So occupied by the shadow curse, he had failed to get to know her. Or any of his companions, really. 

“I think I liked dresses before all of this,” she shared, surprising him. 

“What kind?”

She thought about it for a second, honesty in her lilac features. “The revealing kind. Where the lining dipped to my navel and my thighs were out.”

He was no stranger to such clothing. He had indulged in similar attire in his youth. “I imagine you would look beautiful in them.”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“But I think I also really liked elven armor.”

Halsin’s laugh came out as more of a grumble. “Is your drow armor unsuitable?”

“It doesn’t show off my curves.”

He couldn’t contain his smile. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Her tent was pitched near Astarion’s, so he doubted she was looking to bunk with him tonight. This was her routine every night—check in with everyone, speak for a few minutes, maybe share a bottle of wine, and return to her own bedroll. Except this is the first time since rescuing Thaniel from the Shadowfell that she visited him.  

It was something he had thought about during their long travels. Did he say or do something that made her avoid him? Did she consider him a burden, only adding to their troubles without the promise of a cure for the damned tadpole? Volo had tried to do what he advised against, and Tav sported a pale blue eye because of it. 

But it looked good on her. Anything blue looked good on her. 

“You’re allowed to hate me, you know.”

He blinked an eye open, studying her vulnerable expression. Besides making questionable decisions and being rude to strangers they encountered, it was not enough to make him despise her. 

“I do not hate so easily.”

“You hate goblins.”

“They threatened my people. People in need.”

She hummed, “Taking in Minthara was like a slap to the face then.”

“There are other things to consider. Such as, you did not risk the grove when you first met her.”

“I killed a tiefling out of pure blindness. In my own camp.”

“And do you regret it?”

“I—I think I do.” She shook her head, as if arguing with her thoughts. “I also really wanted to kill Isobel.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I could have.”

He sat up and sighed. Tav rolled her shoulders, uncomfortable with his closeness. He did his best to slide to the edge of his tent, but his frame wouldn’t allow much distance. “Are you here… to fight with me?”

Tav grumbled under a breath, avoiding his eyes. “Not exactly.”

He nodded, though confusion still weighed him down. “Then tell me how to best speak on this matter.”

“I don’t understand you,” she admitted, scooting to leave his tent. 

They had something in common, then. 

“When you’ve been alive for as long as I have, you come to understand those around you just a little bit more. Speak or don’t speak, I will not draw my blade. I know it is what you crave. You have fought everyone in this camp with your teeth, almost killed Gale when he confided in you about the orb, almost staked Astarion before you allowed him to feed from you. And you held a knife to my face when you rescued me from the goblin camp. If you wanted to kill one of us, you would have done it by now. If you wanted to kill me, you would have tried.”

Tav laughed and crossed her arms. Halsin averted his eyes from her muscles. “Tried,” she drawled.

He smiled again. “You would not succeed.”

“I take that as a challenge.”

“Take it however you’d like,” he said, sighing as he rested his head back onto his bedroll. “Now, will I receive some peace and quiet tonight?”

Tav squinted her eyes, a glint of mischief peeking through her long lashes. “Annoying oaf of a druid.”

“Annoying brat of a drow.”

That made her grin, teeth and all. Then, quieter, honestly, “Maybe all that torture I endured made me forget. Maybe it made me the way I am. Better today, but…”

Gods, he almost forgot. The odd necromancer they had encountered beneath Moonrise. What she said she had done to Tav, over and over, he could not imagine. First to be kidnapped, reduced to a wailing mess, cataloged like meaningless scraps, and pinned back together only to be ripped open again? And still, Tav did not remember. Thank the Gods she didn’t, and that the necromancer’s slices were simply numb visions. But to smell your own blood on a mind flayer pod, to have a vague recollection of betrayal, to walk right back into your prison…

He kept his voice soft, and tried to make his eyes speak better words than what he could currently form. “Do you mean violent?”

Any ounce of wisdom he carried seemed to die in front of her. She made his tongue twist, his mind rattle.

“Perverted.”

He said, forcefully, “You’re not perverted.”

“That’s why I speak with you, Halsin.” Tav opened the tent flap and stepped through. Her smile dropped, and he was no longer granted the privilege of a real one. “You say all the wrong things.”

---

“I’ve thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

“You’ll find I’m exceptionally greedy,” Tav responded, clinking her beer with his wine. Rolan looked to the floor, fumbling as he tried desperately to flirt back. Halsin almost wanted to help the poor wizard, but that would probably do more harm than good.

“Darling, you’ve made the tiefling blush! How sweet!” Astarion observed, flicking his polished nails across his lips.

Tav shrugged a shoulder, then downed her beer in one go. “Don’t sweat it, Rolan! I have that effect on everyone!”

“Oh,” he lamented, his lips turning downward. Almost as suddenly, he corrected himself. Shoulders straightened, Rolan cleared his throat. “I thank you instead for clearing the road to Baldur’s Gate. When you can, make a visit to Sorcerous Sundries. I’ll give you a lovely discount on some scrolls.”

“Gale would certainly—”

“Gale would be appreciative indeed!” their resident wizard cheered, reaching to shake Rolan’s hand. “I plan on doing a little perusing of my own, of course. But any promise of a discount on some scrolls is certainly something I wouldn’t pass up! I say, Rolan! You and I need to speak one-on-one soon.”

Rolan stuttered over a breath. “That—Well, I’ll probably be preoccupied with my apprenticeship. But yes, that would be quite informative.”

“Gale, stop flirting with my favorite wizard. I wanted him in my bed, not yours,” Tav joked, winking at the blushing tiefling. Cal and Lia, listening at the other end of the bar, sputtered through their drinks.

Gale gasped, “Your favorite wizard? My word, how ugly of you, Tav! I thought we had something special.”

“Your—Your bed?” Rolan choked out, his smile growing. Halsin looked to Tav to tell her to cut it out, but what he saw was… authentic. Tav wasn’t joking, nor was she toying with the tiefling. She genuinely wanted to spend a night with him. Their banter had stretched from the grove to these cursed lands and Tav was nothing if not direct with her intentions. 

He and Tav shared banter… So it led Halsin back to his looming questions with no answers. Did he say or do something that made her avoid him? Was he a burden?

“Offers on the table, Rolan. I don’t ask twice,” she teased, ignoring Astarion’s gag and Gale’s responding chuckle.

“That sounds—” Rolan started, but his attention was pulled by a few of the tiefling children running up behind him. In their flurry of questions, he met Tav’s eye. “Apologies.”

Tav waved a hand and tried her best to smile at the children, who were now pulling at Rolan’s robes. Cal and Lia came to his aid, even going so far as to grab the children around their waists and run in the opposite direction. 

Rolan cleared his throat. “As much as it irks me to admit… I hope our paths cross again in Baldur’s Gate.”

Tav let her disappointment show for half a second before turning in the direction of the exit. Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel had claimed Isobel’s old room, while Wyll, Astarion, and Gale claimed the room where Art had been resting. Halsin had already mentioned he wasn’t going to rest tonight so he could help the tieflings pack, but he wondered where Tav was going to sleep. The only other room still standing was currently occupied by Rolan and his siblings, while the tiefling children were bunking with Dammon in the barn.  

Halsin quickly caught up with her, clearing his throat to gain her attention. “You were very forward with the tiefling.”

Tav shrugged, stripping her gloves from her sweaty hands. “We could die tomorrow. Might as well let my true desires show.”

“And that’s what desires you?”

She smirked. “Got something against tieflings? Or is it wizards, Halsin?”

“Not at all what I meant.” 

He followed her quietly until she led them to the lake’s edge, just a few feet away from Dannis and Bex. Tav chucked her shoes off and tore the corset from around her waist. It was a black and red corset she had looted from Minthara’s office back at the goblin camp, but her fellow drow seemed to not recognize it. Since rescuing her, Tav had made it her mission to try and get Minthara to notice. As if to say, I rescued you but I also bested you once before. Though he hardly spoke to the sharp-tongued drow, he understood her avoidance. Minthara had gained alliances in an unlikely place and vowed to fight by their side, an oath as strong as all others, and did not waste her breath on a petty argument. Especially an argument with her narcissistic Underdark kin.

“I meant to say, that I admire that in a person. I have been alive a long time and you so little, and yet you reach for what you want with ropes of experience.”

It was true. Halsin was no stranger to honey on the tongue or the caress of another. Sometimes he forgot that others have not racked up a roster like he had. Though, he wasn’t exactly keeping track. Every lover he had chosen had been sacred, willing, enthusiastic. It was nice to see others indulging, even if he did not feel the call right now. 

The bear hadn’t felt the call for a while now. Even back in the Emerald Grove, his only companion had been his hand. He didn’t know what changed. 

Tav sat down and leaned back on her hands, watching Dannis and Bex as they swayed in each other’s arms. When they had rescued Dannis from Moonrise a few nights ago, Halsin had been witness to their emotional reunion at this very lakeside. With as many people on his mental list of lovers, it would make sense that he had been in love before. But watching them reunite and cry in each other’s arms… Halsin realized he had never felt love in the way one was supposed to. Lust, admiration, respect—those feelings he was familiar with. Feelings that were reciprocated and cherished. This was different, foreign. 

Was he broken? Had the bear truly taken over that aspect of his life so much? Druids became more like their wildshape the more experienced and older they grew, and it wasn’t unheard of that some animal attributes bled into their daily lives. Or their physique. Nature had been his one calling as Archdruid, and though the realization that he had sorely missed out on the connection Dannis and Bex shared plagued his heart, he didn’t regret devoting his life to the Grove.

“I woke up on that nautiloid with absolutely no idea of who I was. I knew my name, and that was it. Along with a burning rage and desire for blood, I strangely felt free. In a way. This is me letting loose. Being the person I feel like I could have been,” Tav explained, her brow furrowing. Dannis and Bex shared a final kiss before retreating into the inn, giving both her and Halsin grateful nods. Tav sighed, “My memories, or the scraps of them at least, are tainted in red. I want new colors, Halsin.”

He sat down beside her, drawing his knees up so he could lay his arms across them. “I always imagined the color of lust as a light purple. When bodies connect in the most intimate of meanings, it is that streak of purple only the sky can mimic. A purple that only occurs in nature.”

“Poetic.”

“I’ll leave the poetry to Wyll.”

She watched the lake sway, now absent of dark creatures at its shore. He wondered if shadow-cursed creatures actually had also thrived underwater, but no one had reported such horrors. He wasn’t ignorant to think that the fish hadn’t shriveled, that the water wasn’t undrinkable, that the echoes of the Underworld hadn’t been waiting for bare feet.  

“I gave you all colors, you know.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “Karlach is pink. As much as my blood yearns for the blood of others, I do not like the color red. Karlach is pink because she makes the darkest of places lighter. She makes my days lighter.”

He wouldn’t have assigned her that color, but Tav’s reasoning made sense. Karlach had a lot of blood on her hands, but blood would fade the more one scrubbed. 

“Gale is purple, of course. That damn robe he got abducted in is scorched into my brain,” Tav laughed. “Astarion is a dark blue. When I look at him, oddly enough, I have this intense feeling that his eyes were blue before he was turned. Blue like the sky he’s been cherishing these last few months.”

Halsin would be lying if he said Gale in purple didn’t stir something within him. After acquiring new robes or armor, Halsin always volunteered to dye it. Purple was instinct for Gale, but he had always found himself dying Astarion’s clothing red. Perhaps now he would reconsider.

“Lae’zel is orange,” Halsin added, grinning when Tav clapped her hands and cheered.

“Exactly! She doesn’t touch any other fruit besides those!”

He continued, ignoring the odd jump of his stomach. “Shadowheart is the color white. Her new hairstyle has nothing to do with it. You know, I was nervous when I saw her leaving camp with a dagger tucked away. Glad to know my nerves were unfounded.”

“Black washed her out,” Tav agreed. Her smile faltered as she picked around the dirt absentmindedly. “Black, however, is Minthara’s color. She radiates such… torment. Mentally, that is. As much as she tries to mask it, I can see right through her. And I think she sees right through me. We’re both terrified, and too angry to admit it.”

Terrified. In all the time he had been traveling with his companions, Halsin didn’t stop to think about what would happen if they lost. Tav had created this image of pure leadership, where everything that needed to be solved had a simple solution. Even Lae’zel portrayed as much. He did have moments where Tav’s questionable actions led him to believe someone would die, but not that anyone would kill them. 

“You just admitted it to me.”

Tav grumbled, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them. “The Oak Father will have your balls if you utter it to anyone else.”

“Didn’t know he answered to you.” He couldn’t help the blood flushing his cheeks.

“The gods love to hear me whine.” Tav's sarcasm coated her words and eye roll alike. Then quieter, angrier, she said, “I remember screaming for some.”

His chest caved in slightly, a burst of sympathy melting along his ribs. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when he was tied to that bedpost in the Underdark. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when the shadow curse prevailed and his fellow Druids didn’t run fast enough. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when the last of his family passed and he lowered them into the ground. But ever since, the Gods have answered his prayers. His Drow patrons couldn’t keep their disputes civil and he escaped after three, confusing years. He had sprinted fast enough to avoid the dark tendrils lapping at his paws and was fortunate enough to lead Rethewin’s survivors to safety. He was able to say a final goodbye to his mother. Even now they listened when he was rescued from that horrible goblin camp.

He didn’t quite catch if the Gods had answered any of Tav’s prayers yet since she herself doesn’t remember anything that happened prior, but he had it on good authority that every battle they’ve survived since had been blessed.

“And Wyll?” he asked, his tone softer as he reverted the topic of discussion back to color assignment.

“Green,” she answered quickly. “He reminds me of a park I used to walk around. A distant memory, a broken one. But I see him sitting in that green field, surrounded by wine and grapes and a lanceboard.”

He hadn’t spoken to Wyll all that much yet. Karlach and Gale were the two he found himself conversing with most often. Wyll always spoke of Baldur’s Gate, and though Halsin enjoyed hearing about their companions’ lives beforehand, he found that he did not have kind feelings for Wyll’s father. When he tried to maneuver the conversation away, Wyll always brought it back. 

And it made sense. Just as Halsin was preoccupied with the shadow curse and his role in its creation, so was Wyll and how he would prove to his father that his transformation was for the good of his citizens. Perhaps when his head was clear and his father found acceptance, Halsin would be able to speak to Wyll freely. To speak without thinking about how the city would be better off in Wyll’s hands instead.

Halsin wanted to punch Duke Ravengard in the fucking face. 

“And me?” he asked.

“Guess.”

“I assumed green, to be honest.”

Tav shook her head. She turned to him fully, the lilac of her face bright beneath the moon. For the first time since they had met, she showed him vulnerability. He knew it was killing her to do so. “You’re gold.”

Something foreign fluttered in his chest. “Gold?”

“You shimmer when you wildshape. But also, when you’re standing in the sun, your gray hair shines gold instead. You’re so damn joyful all the time and it reminds me of the sun. You’re sunlight incarnate, Halsin.”

He had been called wise, inspirational, large, and handsome. He had been called ruthless, uncontrollable, wild, and arousing. Never in his three hundred and fifty years had he been compared to sunlight, or directly called it. 

But he was sunlight to her.

She shook her head, a light chuckle beneath her breath. Then she stood and walked back in the direction of Last Light. Slowly, waiting.

“What color am I?”

She shifted her stance. Afraid of her own question, the answer it might bring. The truth of it. Halsin did not see her as a red tone. Far from it. Even her sleek red-orange hair wasn’t enough to classify her. Though red yearned for her, she did not want to claim it. There was a fire behind that fight, a fire that licked higher the more she resisted its call. Even in the midst of battle, drenched in blood, she did not harvest its bounty. Her and Gale were always the quickest to the stream, washing away the brutality. Gale out of pure disgust. Tav out of need. 

“You and I are at odds most of the time. We are two colors that clash, yet find a way to coexist in one setting. You are silver, Tav. The same color as your sword, of the lash of your words, of that fire in your eyes.”

“A silver menace, am I?”

He shrugged, too in his own head to truly argue it. “Silver is also the color of the ripples in water.”

“Ripples are the consequence of a disturbance.”

“They are proof of influence.”

She crossed her arms for warmth. Backing away, she pointed one finger at the sky, her grin nearly obscured by shadow. “And the color of the moon.”

---

The second time Halsin heard Tav scream was in camp a few nights later. A breathless one, but no less bone-rattling. The sound reverberated into his bone marrow, sucking out half and poisoning the rest. His first thought was Mol, that he had to save her this time, that a repeat of the grove was unacceptable and he finally had a chance to make things right. This was a job for the Archdruid. No tiefling would hurt under his watch. 

His second thought was that Tav was dying, and he needed to get up so his silver menace had a fighting chance. 

“Get away from him!”

Halsin woke from his meditation and caught a glimpse of a short, gray creature scurrying into the bushes. The further it retreated, the quicker its laughter came. A sound that scraped against his spine-bones, horribly akin to a goblin’s. 

He looked over his shoulder and watched as Tav held her shaking hands in front of herself. She breathed slowly, shutting her eyes as whatever troubled her began nudging at her once confident composure. 

“Tav?” he said lightly, slowly standing to his full height. In the campfire light, she was beauty incarnate. All her fine features threatened to stop his heart, his senses. And when those senses catapulted themselves into his brain, he saw pure fright on her lovely, scarred face.  

She trembled as she stepped closer to him, gagging on her next words. “Restrain me.”

“What? What’s happened?”

“Halsin,” she croaked. She glanced around camp, fidgeting even more as Shadowheart and Astarion poked their heads out from their tents. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to give into these urges if you don’t restrain me. I can’t control it—I’m trying—but I’m going to slaughter you in your sleep and all of your thoughts about me will be true—”

“Calm, Tav. I am awake, I am unharmed.” He took a step closer. “These urges… They are the ones you mentioned when you asked if they were possible effects of the tadpole?”

“Halsin,” she whispered, terror laced within those two syllables. “You piss me off, but I don’t want to kill you.”

That made him chuckle. “I will not let you.”

As quickly as he finished that sentence he saw the glimmer of a blade behind her back. She lurched forward, aiming for his heart. He reacted too late, but not late enough to get stabbed. An arrow whipped between them and lodged in Tav’s shoulder, sending her to the cold ground. Halsin yelled, panic gripping his stomach from the sight of her blood. 

“Wyll, give me the rope,” Astarion ordered, his skin somehow paler. He threw his bow to the side and immediately began tying Tav’s feet together. Wyll held her down by the shoulders, cursing when she managed to twist her neck far enough to bite him.

“What’s happening?” Karlach demanded, running up to the group. Nervous, caring hands burned with panic instead of the usual fury.

Tav thrashed, screaming wildly as Wyll bound her hands. He did his best to lean down and whisper in her ear, his horn smacking her cheek. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know this isn’t right, I’m sorry. 

“Dear Gods,” Jaheira breathed. “Not another one.”

Halsin had witnessed Jaheira mid-battle and post-battle. He understood that the older druid put on a face, the same face he perfected when he was at the grove. To be stoic in the face of chaos, of evil, was a necessary talent. But here, Halsin saw the mask fracture as she examined Tav’s mannerisms, her moans, her darkening eyes.

“What does that mean? Speak plainly, Jaheira,” he told her. The jump in his voice surprised him.

She huffed, sliding to Tav’s left side so she could check her pulse. At the same time, Shadowheart casted a calming spell. “I have only met one other who resisted the urges. The call for murder, of blood on the tongue, of death in every orifice of the body.”

Minthara blinked, her brow scrunching. “It cannot be!”

The pure terror lacing Minthara’s exclamation—ice pricked his veins.

“A Bhaalspawn,” Jaheira confirmed. “A tadpole-infected Bhaalspawn, at that.”

“A Bhaalspawn?” Karlach choked, though Halsin swore it was on a laugh. “In our camp? If my parents could see me now! Oh, this would make for the best How was your day? story around the dinner table!”

Gale rubbed at his chest, an awkward sound coming from him before he spoke. “That means Orin knows her from before the tadpole.”

“It means Orin tortured her and planted the tadpole herself, I am sure. When she betrayed me, she spoke of another that I now know was Tav. What she did, how her screams sounded—I was not fully listening as she was making an example out of me as well,” Minthara shared, her tone deadly. It was the most Halsin had ever heard her say in one sitting.

“Why wouldn’t the Emperor say anything?” Wyll cursed, quickly snatching his hand back as Tav tried to bite him again.

“It wasn’t its secret to tell,” Lae’zel said, though there was more hatred in her answer than understanding.

Tav shot forward, headbutting Jaheira and flipping onto her stomach. Just as her teeth nearly plunged into Astarion’s forearm, the vampire smacked an annoyed hand to her forehead. “Ah, ah, ah. We ask before we bite.”

“The spell wanes. Calming her emotions is not possible,” Shadowheart said, gritting her teeth. Jaheira, paying absolutely no mind to the bruise on her forehead, took over for the cleric.

“Hit her over the head with this pan,” Karlach offered, offense painting her face after Gale smacked it from her hands. She went to retrieve it, this time holding it over her head so Gale couldn’t reach it.

“Jaheira and I will stay with her,” Shadowheart spoke, her worry etched deep in the frown lines by her lips. “We will need—”

“My sword is yours,” Lae’zel volunteered, pulling her blade out to lie across her lap. She sat with her back straight, eyes focused. A soldier on guard, disguising her concern for a friend.

Halsin and Wyll carefully flipped Tav onto her back. “Are we absolutely positive this is what afflicts her? Maybe she inhaled some spores from your pack—” he tried to reason with the older druid. 

“Urgh—To taste a druid’s blood would be a carnal delight—to dig his heart out from the depths of his ribs and feast upon the muscle. To mutilate his corpse over and over and over—”

Jaheira’s chuckle was void of humor. “Ignore the wisdom of an old crone, why don’t you?”

“Halsin, are you sure you want to listen to this?” Shadowheart asked.

Yes!—he wanted to scream—he was a healer, it was his duty, he would do it for anyone else.

But something else ate away at him as he watched Tav squirm and suffer, biting at her own cheeks when the absence of his flesh famished her. This felt personal somehow, as if everyone else was merely an obstacle on her way to him. He was her target. 

Yet, he didn’t feel threatened. If he was her target, then so be it. She was the one person his body wouldn’t let him abandon because it knew she wouldn’t abandon him.

Tav choked on her saliva as she yelled, “Your bones would be put to good use inside my—”

“I can handle it,” he announced, the nerves in his shoulders loosening. Karlach and Wyll reluctantly returned to their tents as Halsin settled down beside Jaheira. 

“Come back to us, little one,” he said, his voice a hushed whisper. “I know you are still in there.” 

Tav whimpered, registering his attempt at calming her. Helping her.

“Feel the grass beneath your cheek. The soil wetting your skin. Let the Oak Father tend to your mind. Let nature pull you from this dread. It can take it. You can will it.”

“I—I’m sorry.”

Astarion diverted his gaze, swallowing a gulp of air his body didn’t need. He blinked rapidly before stalking into the trees, Gale trailing close behind.

Tav was his best friend. Devastatingly enough, the one friend here who had not yet claimed their own autonomy. Someone who was being controlled, forced to move and act at the will of another. His spawn blood stole his choice and allowed others to steal bits of his soul. Tav’s tainted blood stole her choice as well, but forced her to steal the souls of others. 

To be at the will of something sinister, to be forced to say and do awful things because something compelled them to… Halsin’s heart clenched at the comparison. But it leaped as it finally understood why Tav and Astarion were attached at the hip. How they could possibly heal each other. 

According to Tav, Halsin said all the wrong things. Maybe Astarion was her one source of truth.

“Do not apologize to me. There is no need.”

“I am sick.”

“You are fighting,” Jaheira clarified.

Tav sobbed, whipping her head from side to side. “I’m sorry, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart waved a hand, her smile small. “I didn’t feel like sleeping, anyway.”

The hours passed slowly, painfully, until the worst of it cleared. Lae’zel woke Karlach and Wyll to inform them, and Jaheira retreated to the dimly lit fire to regain some strength. Shadowheart sat back and waited, another spell prepared. But Tav sat up with her help, then calmly sent her away. 

It was just the two of them, quiet enough that Halsin could hear the beat of her heart.

She breathed in deeply, her burnt-orange hair falling across her face. She looked so… small. Defeated. Nothing like the fighter she had presented herself to be these past few weeks. Sweat stained her night clothes, yet she dug her toes into the dirt to find a sliver of warmth. 

“They say silver is supposed to keep evil spirits away,” Tav laughed brokenly.

He nodded. “That they do. That it does.”

“And yet, I can still see myself in the mirror.”

Halsin didn’t think she was trying to insult Astarion in the same sentence, but he understood what she was trying to say. A vampire equaled an evil spirit, and thus Astarion couldn’t see himself in mirrors. What plagued Tav was evil no doubt, and yet she was forced to see herself.

“Silver also promotes healing.”

She shook her head. “That’s your job.”

After a long pause, she whispered, “No one can heal from this. He’s in my blood. I am his.”

They didn’t say anything else. 

Tav watched the weakening flames until the sun came up, and Halsin watched her.

---

“Um, excuse me? I can’t find my mum.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Honest to the Gods, Tav could have simply smacked the poor girl and the physical lashing would have been less traumatizing. The young girl visibly recoiled, taking a small step back and almost tripping over her orange cat. Halsin reached out, but she moved further away.

Minthara snickered at Tav’s comment, though she didn’t aid in the verbal beating of the child herself.

“She had these spots all over her face and chest. She went out for some herbs and was supposed to come back already. Said she’d be four days at most. That was a tenday ago, though,” the girl mumbled, Yenna, and played with the loose thread of her sleeve.

“Sounds like your mom’s dead.”

“Tav!” Halsin scolded, something alarmingly bold rising within him. Tav made no indication she was affected by his outburst. Neither did Minthara.

“May I remind you you’re speaking to a child. In the middle of a refugee camp,” Gale said, brushing his hand through the warm air. His tone was lighter than his own, thankfully. The only other time Halsin had seen Rivington so crowded was days after the shadow curse rippled through the land and pushed the first round of refugees in.

“Which makes my observation that much more factual,” Tav stated, boredom polluting her fine face.

Astarion choked out a laugh, resting a delicate hand over his heart. “Oh, darling. I’m sure we can find you another squirrel to kick that doesn’t have opposable thumbs.” 

Tav rolled her eyes. Astarion continued, “You were so quick to shelter poor Arabella. What’s different now?”

“I would die for Arabella. I don’t give a shit about her.”

Yenna, surprisngly, chuckled. Tav snapped her gaze to the girl, raising an eyebrow. 

Halsin cut off their line of sight, stepping in front of Tav. He asked, his tone ghostly like a warning, “Do you give a shit about children?” 

Again, Tav gave nothing away as to whether his threatening aura unnerved her. Instead, she side-stepped him and reengaged the girl. “What uses do you provide?”

“Gods, you’re miraculous,” Astarion swooned.

Yenna straightened, lifting her freckled chin. “I can cook.”

“Gale cooks for us.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Ah!” Gale bent a knee, the crack obvious. “That would be I! Do you know your way around spices?”

Yenna grinned, sticking her chest out as she placed her small fists on her hips. “Mum taught me! Said I could rival the best chefs in Baldur’s Gate someday!”

“It’s settled then! I have a new apprentice.”

Minthara clicked her tongue. “One more mouth to feed.”

Gale gave Yenna a miniature version of their map and showed her where to find their camp. The girl scurried away, calling after her cat. Minthara and Astarion quickly left as well in search of some fashionable day clothes, leaving Halsin to deal with Tav’s attitude. 

The drow watched as Gale engaged in yet another bright conversation with a local, her scowl deepening. Confusion settling in.

“What color does the girl give off?” he asked her, a futile attempt to quiet both her annoyance and his anger. She stayed watching Gale and did not move when he settled right beside her, their shoulders brushing.

“Don’t know yet,” she said. 

He shook his head. Though it didn’t measure close, Halsin was slowly approaching the level of outrage he had felt when confronting Kagha. “You were too harsh.”

Tav hummed, then turned to strut down the hill to buy some fish. Completely insensitive and horribly remiss. “Best show her what to expect from me early on, no?”

She handed the fisherman some coin and waited as he bundled the fish. His stomach grumbled, but it wasn’t enough of an attempt at distracting from the matter at hand. 

“Lay aside your pride for a moment. Show kindness to children, would you?”

“That’s your job. Not mine. I have bigger matters to attend to.”

Whatever happened to the gut-wrenching apology she spewed a few nights before? What happened to the kind soul he saw save the tieflings twice over without question, the soul who defended Astarion every chance possible, the soul that almost regurgitated her breakfast while building the courage to tell Arabella her parents had died? 

“I didn’t think you so ugly.”

He said it before his mind weighed the consequences.

“Oh? Well, I know that’s not true. I have plenty of suitors. I have fucked plenty of people. No complaints.”

A mask just as fitted as Astarion’s, it seemed.

He followed close behind, sneaking a refugee some coin as she traveled the road back to their camp. He called out, but she did not turn to him. 

“Your beauty is not what I am commenting on. You are turning ugly inside, and I do not blame your blood for it. No sane soul deprives a child of food and shelter, even if it’s for one night.”

She shrugged, her hair blowing in the wind.“I am not sane. Don’t you get it, Halsin?” 

He nearly ran into her when she stopped and turned, crossing her arms in defiance. “I am weak, and I will give in to these urges soon enough.”

He snarled. “I didn’t take you as fragile and pathetic.”

Her eyes flickered with something… pained. As if he stung her. Then as quickly as it appeared, it disintegrated into the poisoned pot she stored most of her emotions in.

“Maybe I should have killed you the other night.”

“Strike me with your words all you want. I can take it.”

But it actually did strike him deep for some reason. So badly it nearly made him wince. She laughed, the sound piercing through the air and slicing him in two. 

He didn’t talk to her the whole walk back.

---

“Do you hate me?”

Halsin perked up at Yenna’s small voice. He nearly fell forward with the weight of his head as he forgot he was lounging in wild shape by the campfire. He located Tav and Yenna by the barn, Scratch and the unnamed owlbear running circles around them. 

“Hate is a strong word,” Tav mumbled, the cleaning of her boots uninterrupted as Yenna sat down next to her on the log. She kept a respectable distance, twiddling her thumbs. 

“I seeked someone kind-looking,” Yenna explained.

“I am quite beautiful.”

“I didn’t say that.” To that, Tav did halt her work. She turned to meet Yenna’s eye, the poor girl trembling as she tried to redeem herself. “Wait! I only meant that you looked kind, too.”

Tav straightened, her brow scrunching. “I’ve never been told that.”

“Don’t your friends tell you?”

“They’re not my friends.”

A blatant lie, Halsin thought.

Yenna frowned. “Oh. That’s sad.”

Clearly exasperated, Tav set down her boots. “What do you want, Yenna?”

The girl’s blue eyes widened, a small smile sneaking onto her face. “You know my name.”

“No, shit. I have functioning ears.”

“Well, if you don’t hate me, then why were you so mean to me?”

Tav shrugged, but didn’t pick up her boots. Instead, she leaned back and pulled her long hair into a bun. Yenna watched her, fascinated by the fair highlights in Tav’s hair. Yenna had mentioned to him that her mother kept her hair short out of necessity, that it was easier to steal the essentials without the threat of leaving a strand of hair behind. Now, Halsin bet she would grow it out.  

Tav, the silver ripple in the water. 

“I’m dangerous, kid.”

“There’s a bear in our camp right now.”

“Besides that.”

“And a Sharran—”

“She’s reformed.”

“And a vampire!”

Tav pointed a finger. “The kindest vampire you’ll ever meet, too.”

“How can he be kind, but you are not?” Yenna argued, squinting her bright eyes. Tav met her stare, unfaltering, and in that small moment Halsin recognized Tav’s unmistakable admiration. With Mol, that admiration spawned the moment she foolishly asked for her to steal the idol. For Arabella, it had been when Tav found her parents in the House of Healing—the knowledge that it would crush her spirit, but not her soul. Yenna’s growing confidence in a singular conversation was what was winning her over. 

Tav sighed, angling her gaze to him by the campfire. Halsin quickly feigned sleep. “I almost hurt that bear for fun.”

“Oh.”

“Everyone had to tie me up and hold me down until my mind quieted.”

Shame laced each syllable. Yenna scooted closer to her on the log. “So, you were mean because you didn’t want to hurt me with your hands?”

“I’m surprised I haven’t killed the dog or the owlbear,” Tav muttered, then jutted her chin up, “Or that cat of yours.”

They sat in silence for a good minute, Yenna watching Tav continue to wash her boots and Tav side-eyeing the girl. 

Halsin actually believed he should have been harsher with Tav when they first encountered the girl, but perhaps he failed to see right through her. Tav had aided him always, aided multiple others and merely joked about coin in return. And when Tav had burrowed into his past, with his permission of course, and saw the weight of responsibility he had put on his own shoulders… They saw in each other what others couldn’t: the inescapable need to form such a mountain of righteousness so that it casted a shadow over their countless wrongs. But it was near impossible climbing the height they had measured themselves.

For what Tav had almost done to him, why subject an innocent child to the possibility?  

“Thank you for telling me,” Yenna said, then softly poked Tav’s upper arm. A childish gesture, one that seemed to shock Tav still for a moment. 

Clearing her throat, Tav said, “Just keep your distance from me while I sleep, okay?”

“Where’s your tent?”

“Right next to Astarion’s.”

“Good. Vampires don’t die easily.”

There was a noticeable quirk in Tav’s upper lip, a movement that had Halsin’s stomach swooping and the bear audibly groaning.

“Set up your bedroll near Karlach’s tent. She’s the only one here who is physically capable of stopping me.”

“What about the Githyanki?”

Halsin thought about it for a bit, too. If Tav were to have another uncontrollable episode and she did not provide them warning like last time, who would be able to restrain and who would succumb? Halsin would like to believe his reflexes were spotless, but he had been nicked in battle one too many times already. It was Astarion who watched his back, muttering about what a disposable, yet practical shield he had proven to be. Astarion could definitely outmaneuver Tav on dexterity and flexibility alone. Gale, Wyll, and Shadowheart would probably react too late. Jaheria would put up a good fight. Lae’zel and Karlach were the only two Halsin knew could survive the bloodshed.

“Well, she camps far away from us,” Tav said, pointing to the tent closest to the barn’s exit. “Not because she doesn’t like us, but because if there’s ever an attack, she’ll swing first.”

“And she’ll go down first.”

Tav winced. “I think that’s how she shows she cares. It’s the only way she’ll ever let it be known that she’d die for us.”

Oak Father preserve him, he never noticed that before. The bear whined, and Halsin turned his heavy head to try and catch a glimpse of the fighter in her tent.

“I’m not so scared of you anymore,” Yenna declared, smiling brightly. She was missing her left canine. 

Tav hummed, “I’ll make sure to treat you extra poorly in the morning.”

---

“Final question,” the blacksmith said, his voice lowering an octave. “Would you be able to turn your weapon on those closest to you?”

Tav lifted her gaze, irises darkening. “What kind of question is that?”

Halsin made to step forward, but the blacksmith clocked the movement before he fully could. A twisted smile painted his sweaty face. Tav did not balk, nor did she raise a weapon. She merely inspected him, tilting her head to the side as if the angle offered more. 

“It allows me to know just how sharp I should make your blade, how heavy I should make the handle. Should your blade drive through the meat of the one you love most, oh so easily? So easily that the spray of their blood angles directly into your waiting mouth? Should I make the handle light so that when your troubled hands tremble, you are still able to strike true?”

Astarion shook his head as if the words he was hearing were coming from the tadpole itself. He muttered a quiet what the fuck beneath his breath.

“Forgive us,” Halsin interrupted, his face drawn tight. “But we are no longer in need of your services.”

The blacksmith took an audacious step right into Tav’s personal space. Halsin acted quickly, throwing his hands out to push at his armored shoulders. The blacksmith stumbled, but his smile did not falter. 

“You have already tried to steal this family’s breath, have you not? You have imagined what their insides look like, what wonderful necklaces you can wove from each string they offer?”

Halsin growled, his eyes burning gold. “I will savor your own if you do not walk away right now.”

Tav looked up at him, her surprise sincere. As if she truly believed he wouldn’t risk his life for hers. He had told her he would back in his tent in the shadow-cursed lands, promising his ears as well for when her mind needed relief. At this very moment, he would draw his staff and return whatever vile energy the creature before them harbored back to the Oak Father, where his vengeance striked true. Anything for her, for it was the least he could do.

But before anyone could pull a blade, the blacksmith cracked his own neck in a gruesome display of brute strength. His shoulders lifted then popped. His back bent forward, and his feet turned inward. And in a single burst of red, a pale woman stood in his place. Even paler eyes accompanied her vicious aura.

“Blood-kin! You would have this mountain of a servant speak for you?” she laughed, her sultry voice penetrating his chest. It made his heart beat wildly, made the bear cower. “Oh, but I do so enjoy the taste of druid.”

Tav snarled, her fists clenching as she stopped herself from striking a fellow Bhaalspawn. “Orin.”

“Took you long enough,” she judged, wringing out the final cracks of her neck. “It seems my poking and prodding did little to disturb your mind-matter. Or, did it?” 

She winked at Halsin, then circled the two as if they were trapped in a glass box. “Do you not remember who you are? Who we were? What you have done?”

“I remember enough.”

Orin giggled, and swiped a bloody hand across Astarion’s chest. The pale elf stood his ground, but Halsin saw the way his throat bobbed.

“Tell your orc to move aside. My eyes crave the fighter you have become. Though, I much prefer you dripping with innards.” Orin smiled until her red teeth practically took up half her face. A pretty face, Halsin secretly admitted to himself. But there was no lust behind that truth. She looked up at him, taking that same hand that touched Astarion and running it down his own chest. The armor protected him from feeling such grimy fingers, but she pushed and swiveled them the longer he stood still. 

“I can easily step through you,” she threatened, standing on her tip-toes so her foul breath met his nose.

“Step through me, then.”

When the feeling of her slick tongue met his chin, Halsin froze. His stomach dropped a million miles into the Oak Father’s soil, and his nerves splintered one by one. He was back in the Underdark, chained to the most spectacular of bedposts, throwing his head back in shame as the drow matron rode him, as her claws tore across his throat—

Tav gripped Orin by the back of the neck and flung her several feet away. Orin caught herself on an unfinished blade and used it to stand again, paying no mind to the slice in her palm. Her smile held, but a few strands of blond hair broke free from her neatly-kept braid. 

“Have you fucked this one, blood-kin? Have you sucked him dry? Have you come on his thin lips? On his wonder of a cock? Have you killed him, fucked his corpse, and revived him yet?”

“You truly are the bitch of the Gate, aren’t you?” Astarion bit, picking at invisible dirt beneath his fingernails. “Let it be known that if you step through the druid, which I would love to see if I’m being honest, you would have to go through me next. And I am very hard to kill, darling.”

“A challenge! To kill the undead over and over and over again! So many possibilities.”

“Yes, how wonderful. If your bitch-self is able to do that, you would then face the githyanki. And there, you absolute swine, is where you would crumble.”

Tav stepped in front of Halsin, even daring to raise a dagger at her sister. “They are not the only ones who would aid me in your defeat, Orin. I’ve recruited Minthara, and she holds the most brilliant of grudges.”

Orin finally frowned. “Father will see us battle soon enough, Tav. That is the name you chose for yourself all those years ago, no? Oh, wait. Excuse me. The name your mother chose for you.” 

Tav's jaw tightened. 

“How she screamed and whined and begged you not to kill her and your adoptive siblings. How she writhed even as Uncle lifted you from her corpse.”

“I look forward to sinking my teeth into your fucking neck, sister.”

“And I will writhe with the pleasure of it, my dear slaughter-kin.”

Orin disappeared, and Halsin regained feeling in his legs. He reached for Tav, and for the first time since they had met, he took her hand into his own. Her fingers intertwined with his, the size difference settling something dark within him. 

“I can teach you my technique,” Astarion said, his light voice clearing the stale air. “It’s all in the turn of your jaw, see. Then place your canines delicately over the carotid—”

“Tav,” Halsin whispered, squeezing her hand.

“She’s a shapeshifter. A fucking doppleganger. Orin can infiltrate our camp and kill us all.”

Astarion moaned, his worry expertly concealed. “She won’t be able to. We know one another.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “If I repeat it multiple times, maybe I’ll believe it, too.”

“You’re scared?” Tav asked, absent of judgment entirely. Her tone was more sad, if anything.

“She’s terrifying,” Astarion confirmed with a laugh. Then, more seriously, “And she will not touch you.”

Tav shook her head, her grip on Halsin’s hand strong. “I don’t think she’s going to stop coming after us until I accept her duel.”

“Dueling for what exactly?” Lae’zel finally sheathed her sword, but her yellow eyes followed each gust of wind, each insect that flew across her vision, each movement her companions made.

Tav grimaced as she said, shame dripping off the two words, “Bhaal’s chosen.”

Lae’zel straightened. “Is that what you want?”

“You have no opinion on the matter.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

Tav pulled her hand from Halsin’s, and he immediately felt the coldness seep through his skin. The action was almost enough to deafen him from Tav’s next announcement. 

“Let’s see what Gortash has to say.”

He scoffed, though he didn’t mean for the sound to signify displeasure. “His opinion is allowed?”

“He knows about Orin. More than me, considering. I should use all the weapons in my arsenal.”

It took everything in him not to outright fight her. Instead, he nodded and immediately regretted it. “You know best, I suppose.”

Her readied insult died as she didn't expect him to fold so easily. She was left looking up at him, studying his eyes for any change. She was fighting herself, fighting something besides her need to battle his every word. 

She cleared her throat, hiding from his gentle stare as she asked, “Could you make me that tea later? The one that’s a little bit spicy.”

He bowed slightly. “Of course.”

“And you—you can share a cup with me, if you want.”

Halsin swore the gold glimmer he possessed dripped along his ribs. “Until later then.”

He watched Tav walk away with Astarion at her side, their arms locked and her head resting on his shoulder. What he would give for that level of closeness with someone—with her, even—instead of people simply using him and vanishing within the month.

“She is strong. We are strong. We will assassinate Orin and leave a trail of blood for her followers to lick clean,” Lae’zel firmly established, her presence doing nothing to quell the sudden emptiness plaguing him. 

“Is it wrong to doubt our abilities?”

Lae’zel clicked her tongue. “Am I to give the old druid wisdom?”

He chuckled, “Advice, more like.”

Ever since embarking on this mission, Halsin questioned his right to give advice at all. The Grove almost fell because he went chasing after the past, he nearly banished Minthara without hearing her plea, and he allowed Mol’s capture because he was too enthralled by a comatose Flaming Fist. Jaheira could take up the mantle of wise druid. He wasn’t worthy of it anyway.

“There is no room for doubt in this fight. We must press on, and worry about the consequences afterwards. Pray that there is an afterwards, that there are consequences.”

He and Lae’zel decided to buy some desserts for the group, wholeheartedly believing that sugar might make everything weighing their shoulders down just a little bit more light.

---

“Tell me about your time in the Underdark, please?”

Halsin never thought he’d bring the topic up ever, especially to a friend. Sometimes there are things best kept hidden away for the risk of all the original emotions carved into his skin bleeding freely again. He had never told anyone, truly. When hinting at it, he kept the story brief. The more serious aspects were always downplayed, and he purposely skipped information so that he didn’t need to reteach himself how to forget.

But as he sat on his bed at the Elfsong with Tav cross-crossed on the floor, sipping the spicy tea he had made, he felt the need to tell her a little more. He had a feeling that she would be able to handle it, and that he would be able to bear the repercussions.

So he told her. Every last detail, down to the smallest he was sure he had forgotten a hundred years ago. But this time he could not smell the drow matron’s perfume, or taste the patron’s poisonous saliva. He couldn’t feel their lingering touch, no, not when Tav held out her empty teacup and softly asked for more. 

“Perhaps that’s why you hated me in the beginning.”

A genuine laugh jumped from his chest. He savored the growing smile on her lovely face. “I have never hated you. Was I skeptical about a female drow saving me from the goblin camp when Minthara camped right upstairs? Yes.”

She smirked, then took a long sip of her filled tea. The events from earlier that day had seemed to evaporate in each sip, and it made him damn near giddy to know it was his tea doing that. 

Tav caught herself before she could lower her gaze, her eyes meeting his hazel ones. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Though it was something plenty of people had uttered before, it still gave him a sense of calmness. Of reassurance. “Once you’ve lived for as long as I have, bad memories begin to turn into something distant. Numb, almost. And with enough time, their past associations change.”

“You’ve… you’ve convinced yourself it didn’t happen?”

No. Triggers existed, but they were rare for him. Orin’s tongue had transported him to that bad place, but Tav’s touch brought him back. “More like I have convinced myself that it was not as bad as I once thought it to be.”

He survived. And though it was entirely non-consensual, he had enjoyed some days. There was shame in that, shame he will carry forever. 

“It wasn’t your fault. You deserved better, Halsin.”

His shoulders fell before he could collect himself. Tav noticed, like she always did. 

“You did what you had to in order to survive, and they met a violent end. A fitting end.”

He actually never found out what became of his captors, but it wasn’t likely they survived a week-long ambush. “I—Thank you.”

“Are you alright?”

“The stress of today. Of yesterday. Of what’s to come. It’s really taking its toll.”

She nodded, looking down at her tea. “Don’t tell anybody this, but I’m terrified of what’s to come.”

The pure honesty in her voice… Halsin couldn’t breathe. 

“If you ever suspect I am Orin, ask me what Shadowheart’s favorite flower is. It’s a night orchid.”

The thought of Orin infiltrating their camp at all was enough to frighten even the bear, so much so that when Halsin attempted to bring him forward, that gold glimmer sparked and faded at his fingertips. 

“Shouldn’t the question be about you instead?”

“Shadowheart has only ever told me that. It’s one of the only things she remembers about herself. Orin would never know.”

Smart. He tried to think of something his companions had told him in secret, or something he had told them, but his mind fell blank. It wasn’t that he failed to get to know them properly, but that whenever he would lend an ear, he was simply the first of many. Which, in retrospect, was a proud thing. They were comfortable telling him first, but he did not hold their secrets for long. 

“If you ever suspect I am Orin, ask me about my mother. If my response isn't that she's doing well, you will know.” He was harboring no secrets of his own, besides the stirring of his heart for the drow sitting in front of him. “Everyone knows I am the last of my line. Orin would know it.”

“And if she takes someone else’s skin?”

“You know your companions well enough, no? It was me you were having difficulty with.”

Tav chuckled, and gulped the last of her tea. Standing, she went to grab his empty cup from his hands. “Thank you for the tea, Halsin.”

And before his mind could attach its wits to his mouth, he softly returned, “Anytime, my heart.”

Tav stilled, the cups rattling against each other as she held them close to her chest. Halsin counted the passing seconds, grappling with his common sense as his mouth formed around invisible words. 

Since joining this merry journey, his wisdom had plummeted to the depths of the Nine Hells. Stupidity flourished in his old, druid soul—

Tav scurried back to him, a dark blush coating her entire face. She planted a quick peck to his cheek, right on his tattoo. 

The gentleness of it lingered until he fell into a deep trance.

---

“Get away from me!”

Halsin startled awake, tripping over the damned sheets of his bed. He had never had blankets before. Or a mattress. Sure, when he shared beds with lovers he rested for a few hours, but he did not indulge in city culture while at the Grove. The only person who had a mattress was Nettie, and only because her back needed the support. 

Halsin wiped at his eyes to find Astarion backing away slowly, finding refuge by Tav’s bed. When the back of his knees hit the mattress, Tav stirred. She was up in an instant, a dagger pulled from underneath her pillow. 

“How in the Hells did you get in here?” she hissed. Meeting his eye across the room, he understood the signal to wake the others. One by one, as Tav and Astarion attempted to calm his siblings, Halsin shook his companions awake. Lae’zel and Jaheira took to the dark corners, Wyll and Gale spread out but lay low, Shadowheart drank a potion of invisibility, and he, Karlach, and Minthara picked up the heaviest of weapons to stroll straight into the quarrel with. The other vampires stared at them with bright, glowing eyes. Bristling, nearly twitching with each excited breath they took. 

Why didn’t Astarion’s eyes glow? Had the tadpole taken that feature away as well?

Tav succeeded in persuading Leon and Aurelia in seeing the truth behind Cazador’s lies, much to Astarion’s displeasure. He wanted her to lie, to tell them that they could all ascend by killing Cazador together. Halsin’s chest seized as he witnessed the craving of power in Astarion’s demeanor, and as he caught Tav hesitating in her speech. 

One of his siblings saddled closer to Karlach, mindful of the flames, but took a sniff nonetheless. Karlach recoiled. The spawn swallowed, ignoring Karlach’s reaction and Minthara’s glare, all to catch a whiff of his own blood. The spawn’s eyes glowed brighter, their irises vibrating uncontrollably.

The red glow was hunger. 

Astarion was no longer hungry. 

“By the absent Gods, Astarion… I believe you,” Leon said. But Aurelia clutched her stomach and groaned, whispering to Leon about how they couldn’t refuse orders. That Cazador was forcing them to kidnap Astarion, and a deal between them might as well be a joke. Leon pushed his sister behind him as he braced for a fight. Devastation glowed in his eyes, and he muttered a quick apology before he pulled a dagger from his pocket. 

Astarion raised his chin, empathy shown on his face. In his tone. “You can tell Cazador that when I find him, I will tear him limb from limb. I will smile upon his rotten corpse.”

Tav received the first slash. By stepping directly in front of Astarion. The pale elf’s eyes widened as he smelled her blood, her sacrifice. The very concept of mercy seeped from his mind altogether. He cut through his siblings desperately, dodging their blades and spells. 

Shadowheart stuck a blade in the spine of the smallest of the spawn, and fell backwards as they simply disappeared. Called back to their Master. Her blade lay bloody on the rug before it was suddenly picked up by Leon himself. 

And before he could drive it into her throat, Lae’zel burst from the shadows and tackled him. Her roar cracked through Halsin's eardrums, and an equally grating one sounded as she buried her blade deep in his abdomen. Same as his sibling, Leon disappeared from the Elfsong. 

It was pure luck he and his companions outnumbered them. He had just finished shooting an arrow through the shoulder of one aiming for Jaheira’s heart when he heard it. 

A quiet, garbled gasp. 

Tav gripped the dagger’s handle with both hands, leaving it inserted in her stomach. She merely stared at Aurelia. The spawn stared back, her lips trembling and head shaking in disbelief. 

Halsin was behind her in an instant, gripping her hair and swinging her to the floor. The spawn yelped, the last of her siblings infecting their camp. She scrambled backward, whatever she saw in Halsin’s eyes frightening her enough to abandon her own bow. He lifted her and slammed her against the wall, taking pleasure in her groan of pain. 

“Cazador would never let you die here, and yet you drive a blade through my friend’s skin?” he yelled, slamming her again. 

She cried, “Astarion! Please! He ordered us here, he ordered us to kill anyone who stepped in the way! I could not refuse. I could not refuse, I could not refuse, I could not refuse—“

Again and again she repeated it, tears staining her cheeks and drenching her collar. She thrashed, her throat clenching on itself. Again, again, again, again—

“Let her go, Halsin,” Astarion begrudgingly ordered, his bloody daggers limp at his sides. “She cannot disobey.”

“What and let her kill us? Let her take you?” he screamed over his shoulder. 

Minthara stepped forward, observing Aurelia with a sneer. “No,” she drawled. She sunk the broken tip of an arrow in the spawn’s throat. “We merely send her back.”

In a snap, she abandoned her orders for the sake of forced survival, following the rest of her empty-handed siblings. Halsin immediately dashed for Tav, kneeling in front of her to inspect the wound.

“Let me,” he said, his heart pounding.

“No.”

“Tav—“

“I told him I’d protect him and I almost failed tonight. I deserve this.” Still, she did not let go of the blade. The second she pulled, she would bleed out.

Halsin forced himself to breathe normally, shock enveloping his senses. Was that why she got involved with everyone and everything, put herself first in the face of danger, so she could somehow relieve their pain and take the brunt of it? 

“You deserve… pain?” he asked carefully. He had met others who self-harmed before, but he had never treated them directly. Nettie had always taken the lead role in those cases. And perhaps he wasn’t the best person to ask for help either, because his aged brain could only suggest they stop. 

Now, he understood why Tav did it—why she believed she deserved it. And instead of simply telling her to stop, he wanted to heal her from the inside-out so no thoughts like that ever afflicted her again.

“I deserve to be broken and pulled apart all over again, Halsin. I deserve to remember that torture Orin made me suffer.”

She tried to step around him, but Lae’zel’s glare halted her. He caught her arm before she could find an alternate route. 

Her breathing quickened. He loosened his grip, but still managed to tug her closer. To grip the blade’s handle himself. “It is a blessing you do not remember any of it.”

She smiled ruefully, fatigue dimming her eyes. “What do you think my punishment should be? More stabbings?”

“None whatsoever. Now, please let me tend to your wound.”

“If she really wants to break me, all she has to do is give me my memories back,” she laughed, though it was pained. From self-hatred or from the wound, he did not know. “But in her eyes, it would be a gift.”

Without much struggle, he laid her down and wordlessly instructed Wyll to bring fresh water and clean rags. She stared as he worked around the wound first, silent but present. Though no emotion painted her face, Halsin knew he wasn’t being scrutinized. There was something deeper there. Something akin to admiration, something holy. 

When Wyll returned and gripped Tav’s hand as Halsin quickly pulled the blade out, Halsin let his mind settle. He drowned out her cries and worked tirelessly, stitching her insides with magic and muttering sweet words under his breath. He didn’t think she was listening, but he said them just the same. 

“I couldn’t let them take him,” Tav breathed, her eyelids fluttering. “I think I was just as bad as Cazador, and if he had been taken…”

“You must not compare yourself to true evils, my heart. For you are not the person in absent memories, nor the person Orin wants you to be. I have it on good authority that Astarion would agree, and would kill you himself if you even matched Cazador in cruelty. For that, there is hope in your atonement yet.”

Somehow a smile broke through her exhausted face. “You are too nice to me.”

Halsin pulled the bedsheet over her healing stomach. And because she was barely conscious, he found the confidence to say, “Trust me, I am more than what I ever was when I am with you.”

---

“There’s absolutely no way, you little shit.”

Halsin had to blink so Tav’s words were processed fully. The way she spoke to children… At this point in their journey, there was only a sliver of guilt as he admitted he found it sort of funny.

Mol puffed out her chest, fists on her hips and face absent of an eyepatch. “Surprised to see me here? Well, right back at ya! Glad to see ya made it here in one piece!”

Tav listened intently as Mol described what she’d been up to all this time, all the trinkets she acquired roaming the Lower City, her new position in Guild. 

“Get away from my pockets, child,” Jaheira sneered, but there was a hint of pride hidden in her voice. In her slight grin. Something akin to respect. 

“I don’t need your scraps, ya old weirdo! I’ve got Nine-Fingers up my sleeve, a certain devil protecting my hide, and a handsome ol’ wizard slipping me scrolls whenever he can!”

Jaheira was unruffled by her insult, which made Mol even more assured. But the second she met Halsin's stare, a muscle in her jaw jumped, giving her away.

“Tell me you did not make that deal with Raphael, Mol,” Halsin pleaded.

“None of your business, tree-hugger.”

Wyll sighed, closing his eyes. “Raphael may talk sweet, but he’ll cut you quicker than you can beg. Whatever he’s promised, know that it cannot be met without repercussions or consequences. I should know, Mol.”

Tav set a gold chalice back on the wooden crate, leaning over to check out Mol’s jewelry collection instead. “Is that how you escaped Moonrise? And got your eyesight back?”

Her monotone voice confused the small tiefling—Why would two men care more about her situation? But Halsin recognized the trick. No sense of urgency, unlike all the other times she and Mol had met, would get her talking. Wanting to expand on her deal with Raphael just so she could prove that all she’s accomplished so far measured up to the way Tav saw her. 

“What’s the big deal now? I got out, and now I’ve gotta hold up my end.”

“Which is?” Wyll pressed. 

“He gave me a damn eyeball back! The deal could have been a lot worse.”

“Mol,” Halsin grumbled. 

“Thievery is my domain, druid. I’m his little thief.”

Wyll leaned in. “That’s all that was exchanged?”

Mol's nose curled. “Where’s ya head at, ya thick warlock? Of course that’s it!”

Wyll’s shoulders dropped. Halsin had never spoken to Mizora in the time she lounged around the Elfsong. Never asked Wyll to elaborate on their daily check-ins. Never asked about the other missions she had sent him on. Whatever Wyll shared with him, the group, Halsin was grateful for. 

Now he couldn’t stop wondering what his hands would look like wrapped around Mizora’s throat.

And he couldn’t stop the worry from hitting him square in the chest as Tav said her goodbyes. Would they leave Mol to the Guild? To Raphael’s slimy grasp? She and Yenna would probably get along, and Gods knew Yenna needed another girlfriend besides Karlach. 

“Here,” Mol said, handing Tav a pouch of coins and a sealed letter. “I trust you’ll deliver this for me?”

“Stupid assumption.”

Mol rolled her eyes. “Deliver it, will ya? It’s going to your favorite tiefling wiiiiizaaaarrrrd.”

Tav mimicked her voice, flicking the young tiefling off before turning on her heel. 

They can’t leave her here, they can’t leave her here, they can’t leave her here… He can’t leave her here.

“Astele would sooner die than harm a child of the Gate,” Jaheira whispered to him. “And the child is smart enough to gain her trust in time.”

“This is no place for a child."

“No, it isn’t,” Jaheira agreed, raising an eyebrow. “But what of Geraldus? He made his choice, and it was an honorable one. I tried to stop him and got put in my place by our resident cub. What of Arabella, wandering alone and told to simply trust the Weave? We let her go, and our hope reigns. What of Mattis and Umi and Bex and Dannis? We cannot save everyone, but we can help them along their path.” 

“Is leaving Mol here helping her?”

Jaheira looked over her shoulder, eyeing Mol as she showed a child around her own age the proper hand movements to reach inside a pocket. “It is acceptance. It is trust. It is the knowledge that we are capable of stepping back when we have to. Mol has proven herself a hundred times over, and this deal with Raphael will only be a lesson. Besides, what hypocrite you are for telling the same devil you would consider his offer about the crown instead of disagreeing immediately?”

Perhaps Jaheira was right. For years, Halsin had put the needs of others on his shoulders regardless of their weight. Unoccupied now, his days felt empty.

Tav was doing the same and it seemed like only he could see the true consequence of it. Everyone else in their camp was occupied with their own predicaments, Jaheira now having to find and stop Minsc, so no one had seen Tav’s height lowering. Without the threat of the shadow curse, he was no longer blind. Though their companions cared for Tav’s wellbeing, they could not see past their own mist. He did not blame them—he was strong enough to help her, nourish her, lift her. By helping Tav, he would help himself.

“Does this change our plans with Raphael?” Wyll asked, worrying his bottom lip. 

“No,” Tav promised. She pushed the doors open and ignored the grumbling from the two guards eyeing her every move. “We kill the bastard, steal the hammer, and make damn sure Mol never finds out.”

Easier said than done.

---

The third time he heard Tav scream was when she delivered the final blow that brutalized Lorroakan’s insides. With her sword lifted high and Karlach’s boot in his neck, Tav sliced open his abdomen and pulled out his large intestine. Wet and red, Tav squeezed, seemingly savoring the squelching noise that bounced off the windows of Ramazith’s Tower. 

And when she moved aside to let Dame Aylin through, Halsin savored the sound of his spine splitting upon her blessed knee. 

They had stopped at Sorcerous Sundries right after seeing Mol, the coin purse all too tempting for Astarion. When they arrived and took immediate note of the bruises scattered across Rolan’s handsome face, Halsin knew they wouldn’t just be dropping off the coin. 

Rolan had done a good job at keeping his composure until the questions began. 

“I can take the beatings. When I mess up a spell, his beatings are a practical way to make me get it right the next time. My track record is impressive—”

“Discipline is to be given with purpose,” Lae’zel had bit, snarling. “Your bruises are scattered. Careless. Smack a soldier’s hand for fumbling their blade, not their cheekbones. Break a child’s fingers for stealing, not puncture their stomachs. Lorroakan is toying with you, tiefling. That is no good teacher.”

And when Rolan confirmed it, Tav’s face had fallen flat. Scarily detached. Lae’zel had a similar reaction, but she nodded her head as if agreeing with the unspoken decision amongst the group. 

Lorroakan would be dead before the sun set. 

Now, Rolan panted as he hurried to their side and examined what was left of his old Master. “He’s really dead. The bastard’s dead.”

Tav looted Lorroakan’s corpse and passed Gale the magical trinkets she would have no use of. 

“And I seem to be out of scrolls,” Tav commented, wiping blood from her forehead. Standing up with a groan, she did her best to give Rolan a true smile. But the fight was tough, so much so that she had spent most of her time throwing healing potions to Karlach, who insisted on being in the middle of it all. “Would the new Master of Ramazith’s Tower kindly sell me some? I’d be willing to pay double.”

Rolan’s eyes watered, but that signature arrogance seeped through as he straightened his shoulders and sketched a bow. Silver menace, Halsin thought. He and Tav were so similar.  

Rolan’s eyes lit up as he remembered, “I promised you a discount.”

Tav waved a bored hand through the air. “You promised Gale a discount.”

Rolan closed his eyes for a second before throwing himself into Tav’s arms, holding her as tightly as his sore arms allowed. Tav stiffened, her cheek squished against Rolan’s hard chest and the top of her head directly beneath his chin. She met Halsin’s eye and found only encouragement. 

She wrapped her arms around the tiefling and squeezed, her eyes closing in comfort. 

“Master Rolan… I quite like the sound of that,” Rolan joked, clearing the sentiment from his throat. “I shall move Cal and Lia in at once!”

“I’m going to need as many wizards in this upcoming fight with the Absolute. I would like my favorite wizard at my side.”

Astarion snickered beside Gale, even going as far as poking his elbow into his ribs. Gale simply waved him off. 

“You will have the full force of Ramazith’s Towers at your service.” Then, softer and sweeter, “Thank you, Tav.”

Tav practically sparkled. Halsin forced himself to look away, only to meet Karlach’s knowing gaze. 

“I’m just sorry I can’t kill him again,” Tav said. “Know that you are always welcome at our camp. That you can always ask for our help with bitchy customers or entitled explorers.”

“And you will always have a room here if you need it.”

---

Halsin found her on the roof of the Elfsong, Lakrissa having whispered the hint when he inquired about Tav’s whereabouts. With a wink and a promise of a drink later, Lakrissa confirmed what he had worried about. People were starting to notice his feelings, his desires… People were starting to see right through him. 

Tav finished tying her hair up when she looked over her shoulder and smiled. It hit him so hard he fumbled over his own feet, a blush crawling up his neck. Tav pretended not to notice, and said nothing as he moved to sit on the cushion beside hers.  

As she looked over the balcony’s edge, watching the birds fly in triangles and the leaves float through the wind, Halsin watched her. Her skin was lighter than Minthara’s, and the pale burn stretching diagonally from the top right of her forehead to her bottom left cheek definitely set them apart. He wondered if she picked up that scar from battle, from her early days as a Bhaalspawn, or from the torture she had endured and forgot at Moonrise. She had never commented on it, nor did anyone bring it up. Yet, Halsin prayed it was a simple story like his own scar, nothing fancy, and that the brutal violence that seemed to follow their heels was altogether absent. 

With her hair up, he was able to outline the scar. Unable to control the desire to run his thumb down the extent of it. But he reeled it in, and sat beside her with his hands in his lap. 

“You know… I at least have an excuse for my violence. Lorroakan was just a bastard,” Tav suddenly shared, a worn chuckle breaking through. “But then again, going off of my logic, Orin has a valid excuse, too.”

“Orin is a different breed.”

Her mouth fell into a frown. “If she would have been kidnapped and infected with a tadpole, you would be sharing your tea with her. Rolan would be thanking her. You would be confiding in her.”

Halsin did not believe that true for one second. Orin was frightening, and the added effect of a tadpole was sure to make her everyone’s worst nightmare. Still, he replied with, “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

Tav grumbled, unsatisfied. What else could he say? That she got out but her sister didn’t? That she was given a new chance at life and her sister was still wreaking havoc underground? Was he supposed to feel sorry for Orin? 

“I am one God’s chosen,” Tav whispered, then turned to him with a flicker of hope in her mismatched eyes. “But do you think I can pray to another god?”

“Yes.”

“Is your Oak Father free?”

“Silvanus?” he asked, the fluttering of his heart nearly booming in his ears. He wondered if she could hear it, if her own matched his rhythm. “Look at where you sit. You are surrounded by his creations, even if they are muted in this city. The air you breathe, the ground you walk on, the flowers you smell. Silvanus asks for little in return, other than nurture nature, each other, and yourself. If you are worried about whether or not Silvanus will hear your prayers, do not be. He hears them, and does what can be done.”

“I have killed hundreds of people. I have mutilated their corpses, stolen their coin, desecrated their gravesites.”

“Forgiveness is something all gods offer.”

“But do I deserve it?”

No longer a boom, but a crack echoed through his ears. 

“Does Astarion deserve it after all the souls he brought Cazador?” he asked.

“He’s changed,” Tav declares, defensive, “And the gods never answered him.”

“Perhaps his change and his current situation is answer enough.”

Yet another thing that maddened him. Why did no God answer Astarion’s pleas? Why was he discarded, as were his siblings, and forced to endure two-hundred years of pain? Why did Astarion have to change at all to gain recognition? He was split on whether Silvanus would help an undead creature, one who couldn’t even harvest the sun's bounty. Did the Oak Father consider Astarion an undead with a soul in need of saving, or an undead with nothing but a masked scent?

Would the Oak Father consider Tav a soul worth saving after she had stolen the very souls he sprouted? Was change enough for both her and Astarion that he would practice benevolence?

Tav sucked in a deep breath. Shame suddenly etched across her face, as did an unsatisfying flush in her cheeks. Her mouth opened slightly around an invisible word. He waited, and offered an encouraging smile.

“I don’t remember kissing anyone who wasn’t dead,” she admitted, her voice wholly dejected. As if this one admission was enough to squander any acceptance from Silvanus. “My memories are vague, of course. But I do remember one man. His heart was beating. I don’t think I ever killed him.”

Halsin had to tread carefully or else the reopening of her wounds could prove dangerous. 

“Did you want to kiss your victims?”

She paused. “I think Orin wanted me to.”

“Do you see Orin in those memories?”

“I see her laughing.”

What in the Hells was their dynamic like? Though not related by blood, Orin had played the role of evil elder sister and Tav the role of evil little one. But had Orin been the most depraved of the two? The most abhorrent and wicked? Was Tav a subject of immorality, but able to control her urges more often? To be a Bhaalspawn and to not resist the urge to maim… Tav’s blood was diluted, while Orin had been pumped full.

If Orin had been kidnapped and infected, Halsin wholeheartedly believed he would have died by her dagger that night, that the Grove would have fallen, that the shadow curse would have never been lifted. 

“She may have ordered me to do that stuff, but I still did it. I killed to honor my father, but kissing them? That was to satisfy Orin. To satisfy something darker than the urge. And when we saw Rolan today… I snapped. All I could see was his unwillingness to adhere to Lorroakan's insane orders. I saw his fear. And if any of my victims had felt that way, then avenging Rolan was as much of an apology as I could ever give them.”

To live a life with the knowledge it wasn’t entirely full, that there was a separate personality all along…

Halsin cleared his throat, shuffling the slightest bit closer to her. She stayed where she was, but marked his movement. “Do you remember anything else about that man you mentioned?”

Tav thought about it for a second. Something curious flashed across her face, but he couldn’t name it. “I—I just remember a gold hand.”

Dragonborn, maybe? He didn’t voice the theory obviously. 

But what he said next surprised him enough that his mouth dried instantly. 

“Would you like to kiss me?”

Tav’s eyes widened. “I don’t know how.”

“I can teach you.”

She chuckled, embarrassment evident in how she twiddled her thumbs. Her nails clinked together, the shine of the purple metallic polish sending a shiver down his spine. Oh, how it would feel to receive fresh, consensual scars from her. 

“The Oak Father won’t call it a disgrace?”

“I am positive he won’t,” he assured her. He moved closer, careful to not loom over her. Their knees touched. “I can be your beating heart.”

“And you want this?”

This was the time to be truthful. To bathe in the confidence he had cultivated and perfected by his hundredth year. To admit to her that what he was feeling was something else entirely than what his body had told him to feel for years. “For a long time, if I’m being honest. I go where my heart leads. It would be a lie to say you haven’t surprised me. Encouraged me, astonished me. You are magnificent. A beacon of hope, even if the shimmer is burning you from the inside-out.”

“I don’t want to simply be another notch on your belt.”

“Do not ever reduce yourself as such. My heart does not stir lightly,” he tried to reason, tried to pretend that her words didn’t hurt.

“But that’s what it is, Halsin. I appreciate the gesture, but I respect your place in nature. You are a creature who cannot stay in one place for a long time, and granted I am, too. Though I see myself moving with only one person on my arm, forever. If I ever beat this curse of mine, I want the choice. I want the opportunity. And I want to be someone’s only choice, selfishly.”

“I—”

“I am not asking you to change yourself for me,” she said, her breath quickening. “I know there have been plenty of lovers and there will be plenty more. But I have stolen loves from so many people. I have stolen their opportunities. It does not feel right to indulge, and it doesn’t feel right to indulge with you.”

“Perhaps I mistook our relationship, or rather our… tension, wrongly” he explained, masking his pain.

She let out a frustration moan. “I want you, but only if you’re just mine. And I can’t have you, because that’s not my fate.”

She believed that she did not deserve him. That he was a prize? Halsin couldn’t think of himself as such, nor could he believe that she was punishing herself so. But as he remembered how she stepped right into the path of danger when Astarion’s siblings attacked, how she did not want to be patched up, it finally made sense. 

Atonement. Atonement in the form of punishment. The punishment of loneliness. 

Like Gale, who hid himself away after absorbing the darkest Weave. Having no one to speak to besides Tara, besides letters with his mother. Who tried his hardest to create distance between him and Astarion, but failed when the vampire lured him with nothing but sweet, honeyed words. Like Karlach, who tried her hardest not to sneak away at night to visit Dammon. But with the Elfsong so close to his newest forge, she could not help overstepping her self–inflicted choice. Like Wyll, who made a deal with a devil and accepted exile. Who couldn’t speak the truth and fell into the belief that maybe he wasn’t ever meant to. Who would rather his father hate him from afar than know what he had become.

“What do you believe is your fate?” he asked, perhaps a little too harshly.

“To help all of you. Save Baldur’s Gate. And then die.”

He stood, his muscles straining as he tried to relax. He gripped the balcony’s edge. She did not move from her spot, frozen as she stared and burned through the back of his head.

And like Gale, Tav had chosen to blow up any chance at long-term redemption. Like Karlach, Tav had chosen to burn when it was all over. They had all chosen wrong.

How to prove to them that they were worth everything and more, how to prove that the world was better with them in it? How to prove to Tav that he wasn’t sure he was a wild heart anymore, and that maybe, just maybe, she was the reason. 

Selfish as she was apparently, he wanted to prove that he was ten times worse.

“A single kiss then. I ask nothing more, and expect nothing else in return.”

The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow upon her scarred face. The heat was touching her, and oh how he envied it so. “Why?”

He turned, lifting his chin so that all she could see was sincerity. “Because you have been deprived of it. Because you are over a hundred years old and do not remember the caress of another. Because Bhaal has made you desensitized.”

“So, pity then?”

“Because it would be your choice.”

She glanced down at her hands, at the brick beneath her cushion. Whatever quarrel she was having with herself looked tiring. And Gods did he want her to relent. 

“Out of everyone here,” she breathed, “I don’t know why I only want to kiss you.”

His own breath came faster as she stood and walked to him. Placing a hand upon his chest, she caressed the fabric. Curiosity bloomed in her irises, and he let her roam for a minute or so. Let her have the chance at feeling another living being. She rested her palm over his heart, and muttered her count.

“Ten,” she said, closing her eyes, “Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…”

“Endless,” he confirmed, reaching up to take that same palm in his hand. Though he recognized the lust in her eyes, he also saw the fear. He was so much taller than her, so much older, and in her opinion, good. But she had forgotten the bloodthirst he had in the goblin camp, the hand he had wrapped around Kagha’s throat, the fact that Isobel had fallen all those years ago because of his blade. If they were comparing their misdeeds, they were equal.

“Whenever you say stop,” he said, leaning down so their lips brushed, “We stop. Okay?”

Tav did her best to nod, but Halsin recognized that dazed movement anywhere. She was floating. 

“Come back to me, little one.”

With that, the glaze in Tav’s eyes disappeared. She leaned forward, pressing further until their lips moved as one. Halsin used a single finger to lift her chin, the kiss slow. He was in no hurry to rush it, no hurry to end what should be their only kiss. This was a transaction of sorts—

Tav wrapped a desperate hand around the back of his neck, pushing her upper body against him. In turn, their kiss deepended. Nearly ravenous, but full of all that bashfulness she had expressed earlier. When was the last time he had participated in such a chaste kiss? In his youth, surely. His past lovers were scattered, none staying around for more than a month. And he was just as guilty when it came to long-term predicaments. The bear roamed, and he answered its call. 

But here, with Tav’s lips molding so beautifully into his own with innocent need, he experienced the combination of love and lust. He wanted to continue kissing her, no matter where it led. He wanted to kiss her tomorrow, no matter the bear’s torment. He wanted to kiss her always, and be all she ever wanted. 

Tav pulled him in deeper, hungry, gaining more confidence as he followed her lead. He didn’t need to teach her anything, it seemed. Whether this was instinct or because she too felt the overwhelming desire to burrow into his skin, Halsin was more than happy to be her practice doll, more than happy to explore all impulses. Good or bad. 

Gods save him, good or bad. 

“Kiss me harder, please,” Tav pleaded, the gravel in her voice causing him to harden. He made sure his hips didn’t meet hers. But she was pushing deeper, stepping forward and neatly entangling their legs together. Halsin backed up, mindful of the balcony’s edge. He sat carefully and let her push herself between his open legs, and at this angle they were practically face to face. Tav kissed him harder, slipping her tongue over his bottom lip. A question. 

He opened his mouth and finally tasted her, groaning lowly. When they arrived at the Gate, their fruit assortment expanded. Here they were able to indulge in more than just apples and oranges. Tav tasted of kiwi and the lemon she squeezed in her morning tea. She tasted of the butter buns he always caught Karlach stealing, of the cinnamon cookies Yenna had tried her hand at baking yesterday. He knew he tasted of that same tea, but Halsin had found himself indulging more in grapes and cinnamon rolls Cher Rover saved specifically for him. Separating from Tav now would be a crime to everything sweet. 

“Halsin,” Tav rasped, her slender hands coming around to cup his scarred cheeks. He kept his own at her waist. “A single kiss.”

“A single kiss,” he repeated, sharing her breath. He dove in for more, their statement ignored and the two unbothered. They could extend this single kiss for hours and technically be right.

She suddenly gasped, stiffening against him. Her face pulled tight.

“Tav?” Halsin tried, worry spiking to the point he tried standing. Tav did not move, her grip on his shoulders too strong. 

Her eyes were watery with sorrow as she opened them. “I had a vision of pushing you off the balcony.”

Halsin held his breath. She made no move to do so. 

A nervous laugh escaped him. “I could just shapeshift into a bird, my heart.”

She waited, her mouth opening and closing awkwardly. The mere absurdity of the situation drew a short laugh from her, her eyes clearing simultaneously. She slid her hands down his neck, then settled them on his chest. Pulling back so their noses brushed, Tav nudged him slightly in question. Halsin nodded, completely basked in the glow of her exploration. Tav traced his curves and grooves, his scars and age marks, starved for touch alone. And when she reached his waistband, he pulled back to ask the same of her. 

She nodded, and he moved his hands up. 

Together they learned the whispers of their fingers and just how long they could hold their breaths. Together they slid their bodies closer, moving against one another to apply the necessary pressure needed to reach that delectable edge. Halsin kept his thick thigh planted between her legs, groaning as Tav rolled her cunt against it, chasing her high at a slow pace. 

Though she was desperate to feel such bliss with a willing partner, she did not rush it. Halsin didn’t want her to either. He would stay up here for hours, learning her likes and dislikes, learning how to properly sketch the length of her body with his tongue. 

“Gently,” he coaxed, bringing a hand up to tangle at the back of her head. He pulled her face from the crook of his sweaty shoulder and held her there, burning their gazes together as she took his order into consideration. She slowed her movements but bent deeper, so much so that her weight alone forced him to swallow down the savageness of the bear. “That’s it. There you go. I want you to learn your body first before you learn mine.”

“Fuck,” Tav rasped, bringing both hands to his head to mimic his grip. Halsin bit his lip to keep from pushing his hips up. She moved faster, no doubt the glow in her stomach at a full frenzy. 

“So beautiful,” he continued, his voice now at the lowest register he’d ever heard. Everything about this felt different—her scent relaxed his very core, her weight fought and won against the weight of his responsibilities, her noises sank deep into his chest and melted along his ribs. In his three-hundred and fifty years, he had never experienced such a connection. He would like to believe that he had been attentive to past lovers, but Tav… He wasn’t even actively providing the pleasure and yet she had destroyed his concept of sex from the inside-out.

“Make yourself come,” Halsin said, tempting her even further by pulling her in for a searing kiss. Tav whined, her hips losing their rhythm—

The hatch opened before Tav reached her climax, paralyzing her against Halsin’s chest. He held her tighter, and shot daggers at their intruder over her trembling shoulder. 

Wyll stood on the ladder wide-eyed, clutching his chest as if the scene before him had prompted heartburn. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he stuttered over his apology. “I can just… go get fresh air in the street.”

As the hatch shut, Tav removed herself from Halsin’s protective grip. He could not stop his body from reaching out for her.

“Tav.”

Backing away on wobbly legs, she did her best at offering a practiced smile. “Goodnight, Halsin.”

Later, when they rescued Minsc and dealt with the aftermath, Tav avoided his eyes and overcompensated with their newest arrival. Loud jokes, prolonged questioning—it made Halsin want to hide away forever, or until his beating heart called another’s name.

---

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Tav whispered, though her moan gave her away. Her slender fingers rose along his hips, tugging at his waistband. He had left his shirt behind, embracing the chill of nature. If he was going to bed Tav in the flowerbed near the Elfsong, he would do so with as little clothing in the way. The quicker his flesh met hers, the quicker the fire in his heart would settle. Though, Tav’s panting gave it the oxygen to thrive. Her tongue licked the flames, burning him brightly, to the point he dropped to his knees with all thoughts scorched except one. 

He devoured her, swiping his tongue along her slit and soaking up all she gave. She yelped, her fingers combing through his loose hair. She had taken his braids out one-by-one hours ago, massaging his scalp and whispering sweet-nothings along the sensitive skin of his pointy ears. Now, she gripped and pulled, relishing in the vibrations his groans made against her most intimate flesh. She pulled him in deeper, slapping one hand back against the stone of the building. Their companions could surely hear them—the windows were knocked open. And the thought invaded just as quickly as she came on his eager tongue: Astarion or Shadowheart—Gale—watching from the windowsill and getting themselves off at the same time. Learning from watching Halsin feast, from watching his cock drive into the beautiful woman wailing his name. 

“Halsin,” Tav breathed, pulling him up to stand. He let her use her strength, let her be in charge, guiding him in all places. “Fuck me. Fuck me until I can’t help crying your name. Fuck me and claim me as yours, forever. Come inside me, mark me as yours.”

The bear nearly broke loose, territorial to the highest extremes.

Halsin drove into her slowly, deeply, the squeeze stealing the air in his lungs and threatening to knock him out. She felt divine, like nothing he had ever felt before. He had many lovers, but none had wrapped around him with both sex-crazed madness and lo—

Halsin sucked in a gust of air, shooting upward in his bed. The beds at the Elfsong creaked when one changed position, and he had no doubt he had awakened someone close by. The nearest bunk to his left was Minthara’s, and Astarion to his right. But neither moved to indicate they heard him or scented his obvious arousal. 

Cursing softly, he laid back down and tried to steady the beating of his heart. Tav was far away enough, bunking near Karlach tonight, that she wouldn’t suspect anything. Hear anything. And he prayed the two nearest him wouldn’t hate him for this. 

Halsin reached below the sheets and gripped his hardness, shutting his eyes as that touch alone threatened to make him audible. Slowly he dragged his hand up and down, stopping at the tip to swipe. The quicker he got this over with, the quicker the shame could come and go. 

Tav had not sought him out after their kiss and… heavy-petting session, but he had seen the heat in her eyes. A promise that she had enjoyed their time together, his touch. The memory of that silver fire had him moving his hand faster. He reached to cup his balls with the other, biting his lip as the pleasure at the base of his spine grew. He remembered how her hips moved over his, how her mouth tasted, how her arousal smelled. How he had to keep the bear caged, and that made his grip on her even tighter. But it seemed Tav liked that, liked his roughness, and wanted to deliver the same amount. 

The pleasure built and built, until it finally erupted. Halsin choked on a shout, grinding the side of his face into the pillow. Pulling until he milked himself dry. He lay there panting, eyes shut as the guilt slowly crept along his extremities. 

“Darling, I at least have the good graces to please myself in the comfort of my own tent or in the bathroom.”

Halsin froze, and his stomach rotated when Minthara’s voice answered the vampire.

“Lies, Astarion. You haven’t pleased yourself in weeks. You have the wizard to thank for that.”

Astarion choked on his retort, but said nothing to contradict it.

---

“You’re here. Orin was telling the truth.”

Tav crossed her arms as she glared at Gortash, clicking her tongue when she noticed his eyes wandering. She was wearing thin armor today, tight around the waist and non-restricting around the neck. Halsin had stared for a long while before they had left their rooms, readjusting his trousers when she purposely bent down to grab her weapon of the day. She had winked, lifted her skirts to expose her thigh, and whispered a promise of lifting it higher when they returned. 

Now, as Gortash made a meal of her, it unsettled something greedy in Halsin. He had no right to shield Tav, but there was grime in the villain’s eyes. And he was done convincing himself he would feel this affected with just any lover.

Tav ignored Gortash’s initial surprise, allowing Wyll to take the lead.

“My father, Gortash. Let him go—”

“Oh, but I wasn’t talking to you, Wyll Ravengard,” Gortash snapped, a smile still playing on his pale lips. He gave Wyll an unimpressed once-over, then turned back to Tav. “My favorite little assassin… Tell me, how has the holiday been?”

"I could've done with less cultists, you absolute lunatic."

Wyll held his breath.

“I know it was Orin who kidnapped me from Baldur’s Gate. I want to know why.”

Gortash wasn’t exactly handsome, especially not when he frowned. The action seemed to drag his stress lines further. But he held himself like a man with power, and with power came confidence. 

“By the gods, they weren’t kidding. You truly don’t remember any of it, do you?” he said, huffing a simple laugh, one that scraped the walls of Halsin’s skull. “Why, it was us who orchestrated this grand design in the first place.”

The entire audience hall seemed to freeze as they processed Gortash’s outlandish claim. 

Tav swallowed, her lilac cheeks losing all color. “What?”

He made his way down the stairs, his robes swinging with each powerful stride. Tav stood her ground, but Karlach pointed her long ax at the new Archduke. Halsin inched closer to Tav as well, but he was more mindful of the rattling Steel Watch targeting Karlach.  

Gortash dismissed the metal monstrosity. He stood close enough now that Halsin smelled the city and a hint of rosemary on him. 

“The tadpoles, the brain, opening a Hells gate, the cult, everything. And Orin went and betrayed you, wanting the stones all to herself. Betrayed us.”

“It was… It was me? All of it?”

“Our raid of Mephistopheles’ lair will be spoken about in the Hells for centuries.”

“The crown…” Tav whispered, the memory of its abduction no doubt swimming in her mind. Then guilt clouded her features—for all of it. The infestation, the deaths they caused, Gale’s obsession with Karsus’s forbidden magic. She was spiraling, blaming herself for all it—

“My pretty little mastermind,” Gortash practically purred, raising a hand to gently swipe it down her cheek. Halsin growled, a low glimmer of gold coming off of him. Gortash grinned savagely. “I have tried to keep everything in order in your absence. All the things you entrusted me with.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Karlach screamed, alerting some Flaming Fists. Again, Gortash dismissed them with a simple wave.

“How do you know him?” Karlach inquired further.

Tav turned to the tiefling. “I—”

“Don’t tell me you forgot. Orin really did a number on you, didn’t she? Always a lapdog, she was. Begging to be Bhaal’s chosen ever since she learned how to whine. But she is careless, and too distracted.”

Gods, it made so much sense. The tadpoling center under Moonrise, Orin’s vendetta, Gortash’s odd truce. His chest ached with the need to hold her, to remind her that that wasn’t who she was anymore. She had changed, brought about a change in Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Gale, Minthara—

Him. 

If he could take her away from all of this, meet her in the afterglow, he would sprint and never look back. She had done so much good these last few months and Gortash’s jealous speech was a threat to her already fragile sanity. 

“You… You worked with strategy. You had a purpose. You were determined. I tolerate Orin, but I liked you.”

He followed Tav’s distressed gaze to the golden glove encasing the purple netherstone. 

The gold hand.

“We worked all through the night, you and I. Perfecting this scheme. When you disappeared, I admit I worried for your safety,” Gortash said, his irises darkening. “I missed you.”

Halsin didn’t have to move—Tav reached for his hand and gripped it tight. Gortash noted their connection, but his smile only grew. A more tame twin of Orin’s, it seemed.

“What was I to you?” Tav insisted. “What were you to me?”

“This cannot be happening,” Karlach cringed, several dramatic gags accompanying her declaration.

Gortash rolled his eyes. “A travesty Orin erased so much. Perhaps I shouldn’t reminisce with your companions present.”

“Tell me what I did.”

Karlach gave an incredulous gasp of protest, but Tav remained adamant. 

“What you did… Enthusiastically, might I add. Seeing you now is overwhelming. The way your lips tasted, how your eyes would roll to the back of your head, your neck bared for me. I heard there is a spawn in your company… Do you give your neck to him? Do you scream for him like you screamed for me?” 

Tav snarled as Karlach exclaimed, “Liar!”

“Do not be a child, Karlach,” Gortash snapped. “Tav and I, two adults, were together even while you were by my side. I’m surprised you never met.”

“A secret,” Tav confirmed, though her statement came out more as a shameful question.

“It saddens me that you don’t remember anything but that. Perhaps we can come to an agreement over this Ravengard business.”

“What did you have in mind?” Wyll chimed in, seemingly unmoved by the revelation. If his relationship was something other with her, Halsin would too disregard Gortash’s claims. Tav’s past sex life was none of his business, neither was it Wyll’s, but the fact Gortash had such a lively role in it… The one living soul Tav remembered touching…

Something dark stirred in the pit of his stomach, its claws begging to rip open its cage and eviscerate his opponent. The bear had disemboweled plenty of enemies, but this one—this one Halsin wanted to tear apart with his bare hands.  

Gortash lowered his voice as he spoke next, enough of a signal that the surrounding Fists turned their heads. 

“I will hand over Duke Ravengard right now with a promise to keep him safe, if…” he trailed off, bowing his head to chuckle. “Listen to me bargaining. How unbecoming of me. I am a dealer, not a trader.”

“Speak plainly, Gortash,” Wyll pushed, the hair-raising tone causing Gortash’s brows to rise.

He turned to Tav. “If you agree to spend the night with me, Ravengard walks freely.”

“No deal.”

They were the first words Halsin had spoken since entering the audience hall. He couldn't give less of a shit for intruding on what was obviously Tav’s decision. 

“Halsin—” she hissed.

Gortash laid an elegant hand over his own chest. “How marvelous! Does he speak for you? Is no your answer, too?”

“It’s a no because I don’t want to touch you.”

“You begged for it before.”

Tav bared her teeth. “I won’t anymore.”

“Wyll? If you’re anything like your father, you’ll have some sense. Your father’s freedom, for her cunt.”

Wyll recoiled, his disgust multiplying as Gortash raised his hand yet again to brush Tav’s cheek. This time, however, Halsin shoved the man away. 

And was promptly held back by two Fists. Thrashing, Halsin fought to keep the bear within.  

“May the gods smite you, Gortash. May this land turn on you in your hour of greatest need,” Wyll threatened, taking the words right out of Halsin’s mouth.

Gortash raised a single brow, unimpressed. “Interesting company you keep nowadays. If you won’t give me what I desperately crave,” he drawled, causing a visible shiver to crawl up Tav’s spine, “then we shall explore other roads.”

“One more word from you and I will kill you.” The Fists were hesitant to grab Karlach, and the look she shot at them severed the idea completely. "And that was a trade, you dumb motherfucker!"

“Oh, but you’ll want to hear this, Karlach. I am on your side. I want nothing more than to save this city and rule side-by-side with Tav here. I am a fair man. And to show you I am a man true to my word, I shall warn you.”

“Threats? Seriously?” Karlach fumed.

“Not from me. By now you’ll have found out that Orin is a shapeshifter. And I warn you that she will strike soon. One of these nights, when you feel safest, she will deceive you.”

“And what do we owe you for this information?” Tav spit, lifting her chin.

Finally, Gortash intertwined his hands behind his back, seemingly aware that Tav was not going to take his absurd deal. Strangely respectful in that sense. 

“Kill Orin, reclaim your birthright, and make an ally of me.”

“Despicable piece of shit.” 

Gortash gestured at the Fists to release him. Halsin remained where he was, and he could have sworn relief flashed across Gortash’s face.  

“Kill Orin, bring me her stone, and I might just prolong the protection of your father, Wyll.” He turned back up the steps, his confidence stitching itself back into his body as it realized the audience was still looking at him. “Think about it, Tav. I am no liar, and my respect for you knows no bounds.”

That night, Tav drank herself to sleep and took residence in one of the booths downstairs. As annoyed as Alan was, he didn’t force her to leave. With the candles blown out, Tav remained curled-up on her side and blissfully unaware of the world around her. Responsibilities that once shackled her were drowned out, reality but a speck on the horizon. 

Halsin covered her with a blanket before retreating to the steps in the far corner. He sat at an angle where he could see her, foregoing sleep, and did not leave until the hangover roused her.

x

Part 2

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #43 | 7.30.24 ๋࣭⭑

tis the season of crescence x fenir

It's peak hot girl summer time. Not sure how many of you saw the sunburnt art trend going around on twitter, but of course I had to take part in it with the other hot girl in the Alaris cast, Druk.

look at those 34DD's

I drew this early this month, but I am still thinking about it. Let us take a moment to appreciate this gift together.

Alright, now that that's out of the way, let's get into the devlog!

I've been jumping around a lot between different routes this month, but it's been fun since I definitely enjoy the polishing/editing part of writing more than the drafting part. This past month, I got my hands into Fenir, Druk, Etza, and Kuna'a's routes LMAO.

For Fenir's route, I actually have bittersweet, but exciting news! OG Alaris followers may remember I had Vi (of @nextinline-if fame) helping me with line editing. She did an amazing job with Kayn's route, but unfortunately she isn't able to continue working on Alaris due to personal/professional obligations. I, of course, support her and wish her all the best in all her future conquests and am super grateful to have gotten the chance to work with someone as talented and kind as her <3

Stepping in to help is close friend, Allie Vera! Allie helped me with intertwine, and hails from besties' Lost in Limbo and Blooming Panic fame (amongst many other cracked VNs). I'm very excited to get to work with Allie again, and they are already knocking it out of the park with Fenir edits! Everyone please welcome Allie to the Alaris team ^^

On my end, I've been doing my own line editing for Fenir and Druk's routes now that I'm able to revisit the scripts with fresh eyes. As usual, Etza developmental edits continue forward, and we're getting into the last stretch. We've added in a lot of cute moments and really fleshed out the romance more so Etza's romantic side can shine <3

With Kuna'a's route, I'm doing the same-old, same-old. Fleshing out scenes, ironing out plot details, etc. Because I was bouncing between so many routes this month, I didn't have as much time to sit down and really Write Kuna'a's route. But I will say I'm already pretty happy with the script. I've added a couple more emotional beats and, in general, have been connecting plot points that already make the route feel stronger, so I'm excited for you all to eventually see it!

My little notion word tracker showing word goals (left), actual word count (center), and words left to write (right)

In the last bit of exciting news for writing, we are approaching an exciting milestone!!! I told you all when we started Kuna'a's route, we had approximately 100k left so were finally getting into the "double digits". Well, now we are approaching the last 50k!!!! All of the routes are ~50k, so 50k is my benchmark for one whole route. It's exciting to see that we are getting to the last bit AUUGGHHH

As you can see, the writing front was pretty busy this month. Because of that, I wasn't able to make much headway on art. I do have this sneak peek of a Druk CG, as I try to make progress on his beta!

licks him

Final count for CGs right now is 20, though! Out of an estimated 54. So we're slowly approaching the halfway point, which is super exciting \o/ And this doesn't include the handful of CGs I already have sketched up and just need to be rendered (sketching is the most time-consuming part for me, so once a sketch is finished, the CG is basically done in my eyes LMFALSIDJ).

Finally, this past month we've been working on Fenir's beta testing!! It was his birthday month this past month, so happy birthday to our little grumpy guy <3

Birthday piece gifted by Extremely Talented @endys that I still cry over. If you haven't played Snow White Ashes....... WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR??

Beta testing has been going well. Here's a couple of gems from feedback so far:

giggles like a madwoman

he's like a little kitten in a wet cardboard box all alone

Kayn, looking at Fenir: I want that twink Obliterated... so cute.

If you'd like to try out his beta, sign up for Hydra on my Patreon!

The beta will be running a while longer as I make progress on Druk's beta. The time span between Kayn and Fenir's beta was about a month, but honestly trying to get the beta out in that amount of time while balancing the rest of dev kinda killed me. So Fenir's beta will be running for a bit longer than a month. I'll let you all know when Druk's beta will go up so that you can hop in on Fenir's before it ends if you want. But just remember, each beta route only runs for that period of time, so get access to it while you can!

For market research this month, I played a couple of games but unfortunately haven't really had time in the way of fanart <\3 I'd like to get back into doing that since I feel like it helps me with art progress in general, so we'll see ;(

I do want to highlight a game that just dropped its demo this month and is currently running its Kickstarter! I'm sure many of you have heard/seen Save the Villainess on your timeline, and I hope you all check out the demo!! The art is stunning, as many people have said, and the premise is super interesting, inspired by many villainess manhuas.

If you're into darker stories, meta-commentary, and murder mysteries, please consider checking out and supporting the devs (@bestlaidplansproductions) as they've worked incredibly hard on this game!

As you can see, a lot of this month was spent on writing. With where the routes are at right now, I'm thinking I'll be able to focus more solely on Kuna'a's route this upcoming month and finally get that knocked out of the park. I also hope to make progress on the CG front! Wish me luck there... LOL.

That's all for this month! Hope you're all doing well (and surviving the many heat waves hitting the world), and I'll see you all next month <3

[fleetinginfinities]

first ever of these but … the bachelors and my random headcanons/quotes/song lyrics/slices of whatever that fit them 🫶 apologies it doesn’t include everyone, these guys are my favorites and I’m having trouble channeling the others lmao

Sam

- drums his fingers/knuckles on tables, his legs, any surface when he’s anxious or impatient or excited or anticipating something. which, he’s always feeling at least one of the above…so

- his fingers. that’s all

- plays footsie under the table but not in a weird way, in more of a “I literally need to be touching you at all times to ground myself to this present moment and be happy” way

- loves full body contact — huuuge tight hugs, rolling on top of you in bed, pulling you into his chest from behind

- mumbles in his sleep and tosses and turns, constantly reaching for you and pulling you close

- blushes a lot. his cheeks turn the most beautiful peachy color

- talks at the speed of light as his default setting

- speeds when he drives, speeds when he walks, just Does Everything Quickly and with much energy

- is somehow both a morning person and a night owl most of the time

- but when he’s lazy or tired, there’s never been anyone lazier or sleepier

- always answers phone calls on speaker mode

- is unaware of his strength when showing affection sometimes, like an oversized dog

- prominent arm veins. enough said.

- makes you feel so alive. present. his energy is contagious

- there’s not a soul he can’t make friends with

- would absolutely love early/mid 2000s pop punk

- blindingly sunny smile

- beautiful, soft golden hair that he wears messy and literally sticks out every direction but in the hottest way ever

- he’s like the summer solstice. an everlasting day that’s sweet and warm and full of life but also peace. Sam, in all of his chaos, is your peace

- “i’m so in love that I might stop breathing”

- doesn’t ever hold a grudge

- smells like lavender and lemon. no I won’t be taking any feedback with this one

- big fan of flowers

- like, it’s not uncommon for him to show up with a hand-picked bouquet for you he collected on the way over

- could’ve worked in a bakery instead of joja mart and would’ve been much happier. sweet cinnamon roll boy

- is actually the heartthrob of the town

- as sweet and pure as he is, he also has a rebellious side and is often trying to sneak you in his room and toe the line of authority whenever he can

- is quite adventurous and doesn’t really have an ego if he’s bad at things or much fear in general. the results are constant entertainment and occasional catastrophes.

Elliott

- “I dream about you every night now. It’s really quite beautiful”

- is actually strong and built and muscular (totally looks like a red headed Thor in my brain)

- but touches and holds you so gently that it makes you want to cry

- extremely strong jawline

- gives that aloof kind of mysteriousness and quiet confidence that is magnetizing to literally everyone

- doesn’t have a toxically masculine bone in his body

- will talk to you for hours about philosophy, literature, films, art, the meaning of life, etc etc etc

- traces his fingers on your bare skin, lost in thought

- has the most mesmerizing, starry eyes

- being around him makes you feel like you’re living in a dream. everything feels ethereal and hazy

- if Sam is the summer solstice, Elliott is like the peak of autumn, when all of the leaves are at their most colorful and bright just before they fall, and you feel like he’s both the beginning and the ending of something all at once

- as a matter of fact: “is this the end of all the endings?”

- “you showed me colors you know I can’t see with anyone else. you taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else”

- loving him is the most intense, passionate experience of your life

- he would a b s o l u t e l y be the one that got away if you split up

- big fan of candles and crackling log fireplaces

- really enjoys a good row in his boat in the cool, dewy mornings and his back muscles show it

- his emotional intelligence is unmatched. you’ll never meet a more well-adjusted man

- romanticizes life in only the way a writer can

- isn’t just all depth and somber. also isn’t all pizazz and flamboyance. actually has a great sense of humor as a secret third thing

Sebastian

- despite how much he closes himself off at first, you feel an instant connection with him. you just understand him innately. and you feel like he gets you, too

- downplays how smart he really is

- genuinely loves to let everyone else shine. loves that Sam commands all the attention in the room. loves watching others praise you.

- is never competitive with anyone else and absolutely loves when the people around him win. the most supportive person ever

- really has a soft spot for animals

- incredibly intuitive. can read your mind like a book and anticipate your needs

- if he loves you, there is not another person on earth that would ever catch his attention or temptation. 1000% the most loyal boy

- “he looks up grinning like a devil”

- motorcycle rides in the city late at night when it’s raining

- sometimes doing something reckless is the only way that makes him feel alive

- in other words, he’s a closet adrenaline junkie

- can absolutely rival Elliott in terms of being the most romantic with his words sometimes — though it’s few and far between, he will never stop telling you that you’re the first person that he ever did, well, basically *anything* with and how special you are to him and how you’re his one and only

Alex

- it takes a special person to command his attention, he has always had fleeting attractions but he has never felt for anyone what he feels for you

- is absolutely a great person to go to with any problem. he has a clear and straightforward answer or solution

- is the number one person you want to be around if you just want someone genuinely uplifting to spend time with

- *always* notices physical changes and gives fantastic compliments

- is absolutely the dude who keeps his friend group together well into adulthood and middle age and beyond. he’s the one planning beach days, weekend recreational sports and activities, cooking out or tailgating on game days, inviting you for a bite to eat at the saloon if he hasn’t seen you in awhile, etc.

- genuinely loves a good romance or romcom as much as he loves the newest action movie

- fantastic with kids

- is very committed to you from the start

- will go to great lengths to maintain a happy and healthy and successful relationship. it’s the athlete determination in him

- has quite good taste in aesthetics. definitely has an opinion about fashion, home decor, etc

- has perfect teeth and a beautiful complexion in my mind