#this is why we don't muse about drug use

[albinoratman2200]

based on a shifting story!~

[moonchildstyles]

angel getting high for the first time 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

cw: drug use! its only weed, nothing heavy but if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)

wordcount: 11.8k+

—————

(Y/N) kicked her legs in the air as she laid tummy down on her bed. She listened to the ringing from the phone pressed to her ear, waiting for a familiar voice to answer. 

In the middle of the third ring, her hopes were answered when a click sounded. Muffled background noise started through the speaker, accompanying a honeyed drawl.

"Hi, lovebug," Harry murmured, his speech seemingly slower than normal. 

"Hi," she chirped through her smile. Her feet kicked in the air, free hand coming up to twirl her hair around her index finger. "What are you doing?" 

A random burst of laughter bubbled through the other line, distant from the phone though it was still loud. "'M on the phone, be quiet," Harry reprimanded, voice far from the receiver before he returned with a decided softer tone, "Nothing, jus' trying to watch a movie with Mitch. What about you, baby?" 

"Just in bed," she mused, "I wanted to call before I went to sleep. Did you want me to let you go since you're with Mitch?" 

Since deciding on moving in together once their respective leases expired, (Y/N) had been making a point to spend more time with Sarah while she was still so close. She didn't want to get in the way if Harry was trying to do the same. 

"No, no, I wanna talk to you, 's alright," he assured her, "How was your day?" 

It was still sweet to (Y/N) the way that she could text him all day long, telling him everything about her day, and he still would ask her a question like this. He told her once that he likes hearing her voice, even if he already knows what she's telling him. 

"It was alright," she said, rolling to lay on her back, looking up at her ceiling, "I turned in that paper that I was working on last weekend, so that's all done. The library was super quiet today, though, I almost fell asleep in the philosophy section." 

A small laugh sounded from Harry. "Did y'really?" 

"Yeah," she sighed, a smile curling her lips, "Elizabeth had to come entertain me. But, what about you? You did that big piece today, right?" 

"Yeah, the thigh piece," he said, voice thick, "She was a nice girl, but I had a headache by the time we took the first break. She liked to talk a lot. M'hand's been cramping since lunch." 

A pout landed on (Y/N)'s lips. She hated hearing about those kinds of details from Harry's job. She had always figured it was so fun and glamorous, easy and fulfilling. She had never thought about the physical toll of drawing and shading and designing all day long. 

"Oh, no," she hummed, instinctively rolling her wrist and curling her fingers as if she could take his pain from miles away. "Did you take anything to help?" 

"Kind of. Mitch and I have been relaxing since he got home." 

She knew exactly what that meant. Though Harry tended to keep this specific hobby of his separated from her, set on the back burner away from the time he spent with her, she knew better. Besides, she had found that little bag in his dresser months ago, she wasn't completely clueless (of course, he did have to explain what she had found to her, but that was a different story). 

That would explain why time seemed to be moving a little bit slower on the other end of the phone, and the boisterous laughter Mitch was sharing in the background. 

"Have you been smoking?" she asked, voice quiet. She always felt a bit silly bringing this up to him, unsure of what terms to be using and what meant what exactly. 

"A little bit, yeah," he affirmed, "Sorry. I didn't know you'd be calling. I wouldn't have if I knew you wanted to talk tonight." 

Shaking her head despite the fact he couldn't see her, (Y/N) rushed her protests. "No, no, don't be sorry. I don't mind, you know that. As long as you're happy and you guys are being careful." 

"Always am, baby." 

A heat bubbled in her chest at his words. While he never did it around her, there were times that she called him or he FaceTimed her before bed when he was under the influence and his voice drawling just a little deeper, sitting heavier in his chest, hit her just perfectly. She could imagine the way his eyes were a bit hooded, his tongue sticking around his words, the easy smiles that spread across his face for no other reason than he liked the feeling. 

She wondered what he looked like in the act. Was it like the movies with lavender smoke and pieces of blown glass with intricate details? Or did he make his own little rolls, hanging from his lips like a cigarette? 

Mitch's loud laugh on the phone brought her back to reality, blinking her back to her room and Harry's static on the other end of the phone. Harry gave a muffled response before his own laughter joined his best friend's, the sound drawling and breezy. 

When he returned to the phone, she could hear the lingering smile in his tone. "I think Mitch found a movie for us to watch, love." 

"What is it?" she asked, feeling the end of the phone call nearing. She would have to settle for spraying the stuffed bunny he gifted her for Valentine's Day with a sample of his cologne for her to cuddle for the night. 

"I don't even know," he laughed, "but, I think 's gonna be funny. I think 'm gonna have to make us food, though, so I don't think I can talk for much longer." 

"That's okay. Have fun with Mitch and I'll talk to you tomorrow, right?" 

"Right," he affirmed, voice soft, "Sleep well, lovebug. I'll call you during my lunch." 

"Okay," she sighed, fitting her cheek against her pillow, "I love you." 

"I love you more, baby," he cooed, "Goodnight." 

An exaggerated kiss noise sounded through her phone, pulling a loud peal of laughter from (Y/N)'s lips. He never really did that when he was around his friends, only putting on the show when he was calling her in private. She thought it was very sweet. 

"Goodnight," she laughed, pressing the red button before she became too spoiled with his shenanigans and tried to keep the call going. 

Setting her phone on her nightstand, she snuggled into her comforter, a throw blanket covering her body instead of her duvet. Pulling her studded bunny from the fringes of her bed, (Y/N) nestled her cheek against the soft fluff. The sown still smelled of Harry's house from the last time she had spent the night, bringing her back to what he was doing in her absence. 

The mystery surrounding his activity of choice for the day is what flicked her curiosity. She'd seen a few movies with marijuana being an uncredited character along with a couple of books with the high feeling being described, but she had never been exposed to anything substantial in real life before she moved away from her parents. Even then, she still hadn't experienced more than the herbal scent that inevitably clung to apartment complexes so close to a university campus and the few bleary eyed classmates she had to work with. 

Specifically, she wondered what Harry was like when he was in that state. Those classmates of hers always seemed disconnected, tired, and in their own head. Was Harry the same way? Did he act the way he did when he drank a little bit too much wine? Or was he wild and excitable like those in the movies? Or sleepy like she had read in her books? 

What would she be like? 

The idea followed her behind her shuttered eyes, her mind going a bit floaty the closer she sunk into sleep. 

—————

"Sarah, have you ever... smoked weed before?" 

The words felt silly falling from (Y/N)'s mouth. Was that even the correct term? She didn't know, but she kept her attention on the food she was making in front of her, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice. 

"Yes," she answered with a suspicious drawl, sweeping through the apartment with a laundry basket on her hip, "Why?" 

(Y/N) only shrugged. "I don't know. I've just been thinking about it." She paused, tipping her head. "What does it feel like?" 

"Smoking?" Sarah pressed. 

"Yeah," (Y/N) chirped, feeling shy that she was even breaching this conversation. "Or, like, being high. Is it like the movies?" 

"A little bit," Sarah mused, folding her laundry on the dining room table into neat piles. "It's not as dramatic or crazy, but it can feel that way sometimes. It depends on the person. Everyone's different." 

Rolling her lips, (Y/N) nodded her head. She chanced a look over her shoulder at her friend, slowing her stirring. "What are you like?" 

Sarah shrugged, a crease between her brows as she thought. "I haven't smoked in a while, but I used to get really tired. It always depended on what kind we had, but I usually got really tired." 

Is that what Harry did? Did he get sleepy, like some of her classmates? Did he nod off during the movie he and Mitch watched the other night? 

"When was the last time?" (Y/N) asked, hoping Sarah didn't cut her off. She was genuinely curious, she hoped she wasn't prodding and poking past her welcome. 

"Maybe a year ago? Could have been longer," Sarah answered. "I was with Mitch so it wasn't too long ago." 

Fixing her attention back on the stirring of the soup she was making for their dinner, she tried to act casual as she spoke. "W-Was Harry there, too?" 

"Harry?" 

(Y/N) could hear the smile in Sarah's voice as she realized where (Y/N)'s curiosity was stemming from. She never tired of teasing just a little over how in love she was with her Harry. (Y/N) only hummed a confirmation, keeping her voice to herself. 

"He wasn't there the last time, but he did used to smoke with us sometimes," Sarah explained, sounding a little too amused as she spoke, "Why?" 

Shrugging, (Y/N) pretended as if she wasn't intrigued at the info Sarah could share. "No reason really. Was it fun? With Harry and Mitch and all?" 

"(Y/N)," Sarah sighed, her voice floating through a smile, "C'mon." 

Stopping her distracting task, she turned to face Sarah who was looking at her with that knowing smile she somehow always had when it came to (Y/N)'s secrets. She was an open book as her friend could tell. 

"What?" (Y/N) feigned nonchalance as if she hadn't already been caught. 

"Did Harry say something? Is that why you're asking about all of this?" Sarah poked, her features set in a gentle tease. 

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth she canted her head, eyes dropping to where Sarah's hands had stalled her folding. "Not exactly," she started, "He just... I don't know, I called him the other night and he was with Mitch and they had been smoking, he told me. I know he's done it a few times since we started dating, but I've just been thinking about it since then." 

Sarah hummed, nodding her head as she listened. "I get it," she said, "I know he doesn't do it around you or anything, right?" (Y/N) only shook her head. Popping her hip with a furrow appearing in her brow as she cast her mind back in search of answers for (Y/N)'s previous questions. "I wouldn't say it's exactly like the movies," Sarah continued, "But it depends on the person and the strain, and things like that. I usually get pretty tired and hungry, Mitch is like the movies sometimes—loud and everything is funny—, and Harry gets really lovey and lazy. None of us really make much sense, though." 

(Y/N) tried to picture it. Lavender smoke in the air, Harry lazing about with hearts in his eyes, Mitch laughing about nothing, and Sarah passed out in the corner with a pillow under her cheek. A pinch appeared between her brows as she tried to see where she would sit amongst those characters. 

"What do you think I'd be like?" 

Blinking, Sarah brought her gaze to her friend. She pursed her lips as she took in (Y/N). 

"I don't know. It's not the same as being drunk, so I don't know if you'd be as excitable." Sarah contemplated for a moment longer. "I don't really know, honestly. Are you thinking about finding out?" 

She could only shrug. A similar anxiety she felt around alcohol before she broke that barrier still surrounded this, if even a bit heightened given the fact the substance was still very much taboo in her life. There were so many scary, over-exaggerated out there about marijuana, along with the fact that it was still very much taboo in (Y/N)'s life. The use of it seemed to be something that was only done in private and kept as a secret for some people. She was worried that if she found out why, she would regret it. 

Though, there were those puffing thoughts in the back of her mind that begged to differ. It couldn't be that bad. Harry, Mitch, and Sarah were three of her favorite people in the whole world. They weren't devilish burnouts with a one-track lifestyle taking them down the drain, like horror stories and PSA's liked to project. They were good people who sometimes indulged in extra relaxation when they had the chance and the mindset to do so. There was nothing wrong with that. 

"You could ask H, if you wanted. You know he'd answer anything you wanted to know." 

"I know," (Y/N) drawled, unsure despite the fact she knew Sarah was telling the truth. "You don't think he'd be annoyed or anything? I know he keeps it all separate from me for a reason, so I don't want to make him upset." 

Sarah leveled her gentle gaze on (Y/N)'s face. "I think he does it because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. It's different than drinking wine with him and things like that, so I bet he just doesn't want to scare you." 

(Y/N) shook her head, "He couldn't scare me, though. He's too nice." 

"To you," Sarah clarified, her smile soft and teasing, "You know he just worries about you and all of that. You wouldn't upset him if you wanted to know more about anything he does."

He did love teaching and showing her things, she knew that. 

"I'll think about it," (Y/N) settled.

"Good," Sarah smiled, grabbing her stacks of folded laundry, "Is dinner ready?" 

"Almost," (Y/N) chirped, adding a little bit of extra seasoning to the pot, "I just need to add the noodles. It'll probably be ready by the time you're done putting everything away." 

Sarah gave a small cheer, stacks of clothing now rehomed in the laundry basket to be returned to her room. "Thank you," she sung, "We should watch that yacht show when we sit down, don't you think?" 

Perking up at the suggestion, (Y/N) quickly nodded her head. "That sounds perfect!" she smiled, mellowing some as she turned her attention to her swirling soup base, "And, thank you for answering everything, by the way. It always helps me." 

"I know, that's why I do it," Sarah settled, reaching out to squeeze (Y/N)'s arm gently before she swept away. 

Left in the silence of the kitchen with only the simmering soup, (Y/N) felt a little bit lighter. Some of her questions were answered even if she had more she wanted to hear from Harry directly. More than anything, she was a little enamored at the idea that Harry was loving and lazy under the influence. She already had a small idea given that she had seen how easy and bubbly he became when he drank, but she'd never seen him really slow down the way she pictured it in her head. 

She wanted to see just how lovey he became, if she was being honest. She already had the privilege of experiencing the affectionate side of him, she wondered just how much higher that volume would be kicked to if he had been smoking. What if he really did have hearts in his eyes?

The thought brought a quiet smile to (Y/N)'s face.

Maybe, she really would have to ask him. 

—————

"What are you thinking for dinner, my love?" 

(Y/N) puckered her lips to reciprocate the small kiss Harry gave her as he traipsed by the couch. Her eyes followed the broad of his back as her made his way towards the kitchen. With her hands folded on the arm of the sofa, she rested her cheek on her forearm, kicking her legs up behind her as she watched him.

"Whatever you want, I'm okay with," she told him, voice soft and easy. 

"Yeah?" he prodded, looking over his shoulder as he washed his hands in the sink, "Even if I didn't feel like making dinner tonight and decided to order sushi instead?" 

"Sushi?" (Y/N) bubbled, "From the new place?" 

Harry nodded, dimples thumbed into his cheeks. "I figured we could try it out tonight, if that was alright." 

"Yes, please," she beamed, her grin only widening when came around to join her in the common area after drying his hands. 

His lip ring bobbled as he matched her smile, using a gentle hand to push a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "Why don't you pull up the website for us while I put my sketches away, and find what y'like. Then we'll order, yeah? 

Despite the long hours he worked at the shop this past weekend, he looked as gorgeous as ever to (Y/N). He lacked eyeliner after wiping it off as soon as he made it home, but his eyes were still the star of the show against his creamy skin. A fresh bee tattoo stood out on the column of his throat, the mosaic wings following the line of his jaw amongst the rose bush filler he had inked across the skin. With the way he stood over her, she got the perfect view of his spiraling curls and the cut planes of his face complete with his glimmering nose stud and lip ring. 

She nodded her head in a lovey daze. "I can do that." 

Amusement flickered in his eyes as he looked down at her. He dipped to her level to press a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose. "Thank you, baby," he murmured, moving away to gather the art supplies he was working with, "I'll be right back." 

Pulling out her phone, (Y/N) searched up the restaurant up while her mind was still on Harry. 

While the questions she had for him were still in the back of her mind, it was too easy to become distracted with him. They weren't apart for a long time by any stretch of the imagination, but even spending a long, four-day weekend away from one another allowed enough fondness to grow between them to keep her mind from wandering very far from what was right in front of her. Besides, Harry barely let her get a word in since she stepped foot in his home, having tugged her to his bedroom with his lips pressed to hers, only breaking for breath. 

She'd ask him at some point, she was sure. If she had the mind to after dinner. 

Browsing through the menu for a few minutes, (Y/N) found the rolls she was interested in, picking things she had a feeling Harry would like and finding other little gems on the website that she would mention in hopes of getting his opinion on. She searched through the site, trying to find an option to order online with no luck, the browser rerouting her to the main page every time she tried to plug into the ordering site. 

"H?" she called, realizing he still hadn't come back from resetting his utensils. 

"Yes?" he answered back, still in the bedroom, "What do y'need, love?" 

Instead of responding, she stood from the couch and moved towards his room, brows knitted and phone screen bright in her hand. "The website isn't working—it won't let me order," she explained, stepping over the threshold to his room. 

Lifting her head, she saw him standing at his dresser, back to the door with his head angled down and hands fiddling across the top of his dresser. He looked over his shoulder at her, his hands slowing. 

"Give me a second, and I'll take a look," he told her, "I'm still cleaning up—forgot I left some things out." 

"Oh?" she sounded, stepping towards him with her phone being slid back into her pocket, "Do you want any help?" 

Growing close enough, she peered around him to see what he was working on. Instead of spotting the graphite and colored pencils she figured she'd find, she instead saw tiny green buds splaying across the wooden surface with a pair of loose pieces of thin paper and a tall black canister. Harry worked quickly to clean up the mess, majority of the green flakes having been scooped up and replaced in the container though he was struggling to wrangle the remains back into their container. 

"'S alright," he murmured, shifting just enough to cut her view of the space, "'M almost done." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she rocked on her heels as she stayed put. Before she could think better of her words, they were already spilling from her mouth: 

"Is that weed?" 

She cringed at the sound of her voice wrapping around something so outside of her vocabulary. It sounded better in her head.

Harry's hands slowed, stilling before he looked over his shoulder at her. A sliver of his workspace was once again revealed at the small shifting. 

"What was that?" he pressed, his question seemingly heavy between the two of them. 

She said the wrong thing, didn't she? (Y/N) dropped her gaze from his, settling on the new bumblebee on his neck instead. 

"I ask if that was your... you know," she trailed off, hating the sound of her floundering almost more than just saying the word outright, "That's weed, right?" 

Feeling Harry's gaze trail over her, (Y/N) tried not to squirm. 

"It is, yeah," he muttered, "I didn't realize I left it out. 'M sorry."

Darting her eyes up to match his once more, she tipped her head to the side. "Why are you sorry?" 

Turning away from the dresser entirely, Harry faced her directly. He gave her a small shrug. "I don't like leaving it out when you're here. I meant to clean it up before y'came over, but I forgot." 

"You know I don't mind," she reminded him, "You don't have to be sorry." 

A gentle smile curled his lips, only a single dimple in his cheeks as he looked at her. 

"Thank you, love," he started, "Let me clean up, I'll wash m'hands again, and then I'll—" 

"What does it feel like?" 

(Y/N) could feel her skin simmering in embarrassment as her tumbling question fell from her mouth before she had a chance to police the words. Everything she had been too distracted to ask him came flooding back then, unable to be stopped now that she saw the opportunity. 

"Sorry," she peeped, realizing how abruptly she had cut him off.

He waved her off, "'S alright." He watched her with attentive eyes, catching each of her expressions and minute movements. "What does what feel like?" 

There was no going back now, she figured. 

"Being high," she peeped, "What does it feel like?" 

While he didn't seem to understand where her line of questioning was coming from, or understood her sudden curiosity in his private hobby, he didn't dissect any further. 

Harry rolled his neck, pursing his lips. "It's different for everyone," he started, much the same as Sarah had, "It depends on the kind you smoke, too." 

"But what does it feel like for you?" she rattled off, her words coming quick. Her hands were a busy bundle at her waistline, looking at him with curious eyes. 

A small tug on the corner of his lip had a lopsided smile sparking on his mouth. "It depends, like I said, on what kind, but I usually like it best when m'hands hurt. It helps numb it long enough for the cramping to go away," he mused, "But, other than that, it makes me tired—but not enough to sleep. I jus' want to do nothing but sit and eat. I also get very touchy; lots of cuddling with pillows and whining about not being with you." 

He had to have known that his last comment would get her lips splitting into a sheepish smile, (Y/N) dropping her head to fix her gaze at their feet. It was still a little wild to her that Harry thought about her as often as she did him, even when she wasn't right in front of him.

"You feel like that every time?" 

"Mostly, yeah," he shared, "Sometimes I feel like sketching, or I fall asleep right away. Back when Mitch and I would go out a lot, I used to be really hyper—doing stupid shit because I wasn't afraid of anything. I've definitely calmed down since then." 

"Oh," she sounded. (Y/N) couldn't imagine Harry being reckless, getting himself into trouble that way—but, this was the same man that apparently received his first tattoo at a mechanic's garage by a very amateur artist. He was capable of anything, she guessed. 

"Why do you want to know, love?" he asked, tipping his head with a spiral of his curl falling over his shoulder. 

She attempted to act as nonchalant as possible, giving a shrug of her shoulders despite her lips being rolled between her teeth. "I don't know," she answered, "I've just been thinking about it, I guess." 

"Yeah? Is that all y'wanted to know?" 

While there had to have been hundreds of questions that could come to mind, everything from what he and Sarah meant when they specified reactions were based on the strain or kind of weed that was being consumed, to what skunks vs. dank meant when it came to the herb, she didn't know where to start. Though there was one thing she was wanting to know, beyond just the details of what it would be like to see a clingy, lovey Harry. 

"What do you think I'd be like?" she asked, her words coming out in a rush before she could rethink them.

Harry's gaze was warm on her face as he examined her. Amusement sparked in his eyes. 

"I don't know, but I have a feeling you'd be a little bit like Mitch," he explained, "I think you'd be excited about everything. But, I'd hope you'd be a little like me just because I like the idea of you being clingy and warm, too." 

She liked that idea, too. It was easier this time to add herself to the picture of Harry, Mitch, and Sarah, superimposing herself at Harry's side with her own hearts in her eyes and her hands tangled with his. (They could sneak kisses, too, if she caught the bug of no fear like he used to have).

"Could—Can I—... I think I want to try, if that's alright," she stuttered, unable to find the right words before just letting something roll off her tongue. 

Harry's silence was heavy between them, the lilypad of his irises setting on her. "You want to try smoking?" 

Starting with a soft nod, she tried to find that reckless bubbling that had carried her this far. "I think so, yeah." A beat passed. "If that's alright." 

When he didn't immediately say anything, she chanced a peek up at him to find his eyes fixed on her, gentle and melting as he took her in. He opened his arms for her when he caught her eye, his features softened and warm. "C'mere." 

(Y/N) all but fell into his arms, his chest warm and solid under her cheek. She looped her arms around his middle, her eyes fluttering closed as she relaxed into him. He worked like a shot of lavender incense and chamomile tea for her, the perfect thing to settle her in moments like these. 

His hand spanned over the planes of her back, fingertips massaging the knots of muscle and ladder of her spine. He rubbed over her form in a soothing circuit between her shoulder blades, his opposing hand an anchoring weight on her waist. 

"Y'really want to try it out, love?" he prodded her gently, his voice rumbling under her cheek. 

"I think so," she mumbled, finding it easier to speak now that she was there to hold her instead of watch her.

"When did y'decide that?" 

"The other day, I think," she explained, "After we talked on the phone." 

He hummed, the sound reverberating in her ear. "What made y'think y'wanted to try something like this?" 

Harry always liked to talk her through things like this, she found. It made it easier for him to understand her thought process, he'd said, helping him be honest with her if he worried she was making a choice that might hurt her later. He never lacked patience when it came to guiding her through new experiences. 

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "I just want to know what it's really like. I've only seen a couple of movies and read a few books, but I want to know what it would feel like for me. I don't think it could be so bad if you like it." 

Nosing at her hair, she could feel the smile that had spread across his lips. "'M not always the smartest though, baby. You know that." 

She let out a small laugh at his griping. "I know, but I trust you. If you really don't think it would be good for me, I know you would tell me." 

A pause settled between them. 

"You don't feel like you have to, right? Jus' because 's something I do sometimes, I don't expect you to feel comfortable with it or want to do it with me." 

"I know," she responded, voice resolute, "I just want to try it at least once. If I don't like it or anything like that, I won't do it again." 

After a lingering moment, Harry drew her away from him, peering down at her with a soft gaze. "If you're sure, then we can try it whenever y'want. Jus' let me help you, and I'll be there." 

An impulsive flicker lit through her system. She was on a roll, why stop now? 

"Can we try it tonight?" 

Harry looked at her with widened eyes. "Tonight?" 

(Y/N) nodded her head. "I don't have class until the afternoon tomorrow," she started, a plan coming together, "Do you have to go in early tomorrow?"

His smile was lopsided as he shook his head, likely following where she was going with this. "No, I don't." 

"We could stay up, then," she rattled off, "I could try tonight, and if anything goes wrong we can sleep in a little in the morning." 

Amusement filtered through his gaze. "I didn't know we were having a sleepover," he teased her, dipping his head until his nose nudged against hers, "Y'want to stay the night with me, baby?" 

Her skin hummed as (Y/N) fought the urge to hide herself in his neck. (She acted as if he hadn't been fingers deep in her just a few hours prior, their mouths welded together and her legs around his waist)." 

"Harry," she whined, curling her fists in his t-shirt to keep from pulling away, "I'm trying to be serious." 

"I know," he crooned, tipping his chin to peck a soft kiss to her pouted lips, "And, 'm listening. We can try it out tonight, if y'really want to. But, I think we should eat first, yeah?" 

"Yeah," she repeated, giving a slight nod of her head, "I still need help with the website, though."

"Right," he murmured, pulling away, "Since I don't really need to clean up anymore, let me take a look." 

With that, (Y/N) handed him her phone, telling him about the confusion she felt with the links and the rerouting and all, but her mind was somewhere else. Flicking her gaze around his shoulder, she saw the mess he was leaving out for them to take care of later. The small green buds sparked that familiar kind of nervous excitement that she'd grown accustomed to when it came to new things Harry was planning on teaching her. 

She just hoped she didn't make a fool of herself.

—————

"What did you think, love? Good, right?" 

Taking their dirty utensils—including the pink chopsticks he gifted her for Valentines—Harry spoke over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen.

(Y/N) sat pliantly on the couch, tummy full of the variety of sushi rolls they sampled for the night, along with a new favorite miso soup that she was surely going to be craving as the week went on. "So good. I think my favorite is still the spicy salmon one with that seaweed salad on top." 

Harry laughed from where he stood, surely remembering the way she had practically taken that roll for herself, hoarding the pieces to allow only one bite for him. "I really liked that one, too. We'll have to go back again soon, yeah?" 

"Yes, please," she chirped, looking over the back of the couch as he made his return. 

While the food was a delicious distraction for the night, (Y/N) had still marinated in the idea of what would be coming once she finished and they were settling for the night. The mess he'd left on his dresser was waiting for them, loose papers and all. 

"Ready?" he asked, coming to stand at the end of the sofa.

Was she? She wasn't sure, honestly. But that uncertainty was outweighed by the curiosity and bubbly jitters she had since Harry had agreed to help her. 

Before she had a chance to answer and take his hand, Harry spoke up again, "Jus' to get ready for bed first, baby." 

"Oh," she sounded, nothing more intelligent coming to mind at the moment, "Um, yeah. Then we'll...?" 

He cracked a smile at her hesitancy to name the activity that she had brought up. "Yes, we'll do that afterwards. You'll probably feel more comfortable in some pajamas and your face clean." 

Though she felt a bit silly at the way she had built up a moment that hadn't quite arrived yet, she understood his logic. Besides, if she turned out to be like Sarah, she wouldn't beat herself up in the morning if she did all of her skincare now, and not when she was already inches from sleep.

Taking Harry's hand, she followed after him as he led her to his bedroom, a small duffle bag of hers that stayed here was already sitting by the bathroom door. A change of clothes, and minis of her most essential skincare needs were packed away inside, making it easy for her to spend the night impulsively when she wanted to. 

(Just then, the reminder that she wouldn't be confined to a single bag when they moved in together made her more giddy than before. Soon, she'd be sharing a whole closet with him, a bathroom, and a home. She couldn't wait).

(Y/N) went through the motions of getting unready with Harry standing behind her in the mirror. More often than not, as she brushed her teeth or patted a balm into her skin, her eyes wandered to his reflection. Once or twice, when she was caught, he gave her a sly smile with glimmering eyes. But, when he didn't catch her, his attention on his own task, she was left to allow her mind to gill with imagination. 

She was reminded as she ran her eyes along the cut of his jaw, the plants of his features, and the high points in-between, that he would be stepping behind the lavender veil with her. His previous conversation with her had only revolved around her and what she wanted out of this experience, straying her mind away from the fact that he was going to be a part of the package. 

What would he look like with smoke pluming from his mouth? Would his lilypad eyes go glazed and red? She wondered if his hands would feel any different gliding over her skin, if his lips would still feel as pillowy against hers. 

The thought had her cheeks warming, a sheepish smile forming around the toothbrush between her lips. 

Harry finished before her, stepping out of the bathroom to give her privacy to change into her pajamas. "I'll wait for you out here," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her head. 

Closing the door behind himself, she was left alone with the chilled tile under her socked feet. Glancing at the mirror, (Y/N) found herself fresh-faced with wide eyes and a slight swell to her lips from the amount of times she rolled them between her teeth. Blinking, she wondered if she would look any different to Harry after she pulled the smoke into her lungs. 

It was with rushed hands that she dressed into her sleep clothes (really nothing more than a pair of tiny shorts she would inevitably kick off in the night, and a shirt she had stolen so long ago from Harry that it was hers now), almost slipping her top on backwards before she righted herself in the mirror. Stepping out of the washroom with her laundry being dropped atop her duffle for later, (Y/N) saw Harry once again at his dresser.

This time, he looked to her with an easy smile, his hands working over the surface before him.

"Better?" he smiled, lip ring bobbing. 

"Mhm," she hummed, moving towards him in slow strides, "What are you doing?" 

Turning back to face his hands, he told her, "Jus' getting our things ready. Do you want to watch?" 

A pinch creased her brows as she went towards him. Peering around his shoulder, she saw him working with one of the loose papers from before and a small pile of crushed up greenery. 

"What do you have to do?" (Y/N) only had a vague idea of what all went into preparing for a session like this. 

Smiling down at her, his ministrations slowed now that her attention was placed on his hands. He sidestepped just enough to allow her an unobstructed view of his work. "I figured we'd stick with a joint this first time, so I've got to roll one up for us to use." 

Looking at it now, while she didn't have much knowledge of any of this, she could see familiar pieces forming. The paper would be rolled and twisted with the bud inside, Harry flickering a lighter at the end like a cigarette when it was ready.

"How do you do that?" she muttered, stepping that much closer, feeling as if she were a child pressing their nose against the glass separating them from gallons of ice cream. 

A huffed laugh fell from his lips then. Lifting his arm up, he beckoned her to stand between his chest and the dresser. "C'mere." 

Slipping into the small space he freed for her, the heat of his chest could be felt against her back. Though she caught whiffs of it before, now the herby, earthy smell of the bud was right at her nose, wafting through the air and clinging to her skin. Right in front of her, Harry worked around her, his fingers deftly working through his supplies. 

"First," he started, "You've got to keep the paper flat out and put one of the filters at the end." She watched as he pulled a tiny white piece from the canister, setting it at the middle of one of the short ends of the paper. He kept it stable when he reached for the ground up weed that he had piled in the lid to the container, a small mound he pinched at before sprinkling the chunks in a line across the paper. "We've got to fill it up enough so there's not any air bubbles between," he explained as he worked, his arms hovering above her shoulders as he created their joint with the ease of experience. "This part’s always a little hard for me," he told her, to her surprise. 

"What do you mean?" He could have fooled her.

"'S hard to pack it in like this," he elaborated, his voice dull as he concentrated, "M'fingers are too big, so I've got to be extra careful that I don't mess it up." 

Honing her gaze in on his digits, she had to keep herself from tipping her head to the side and falling victim to the sight. She could see it then, she figured, watching as he tried to pat everything as tightly and precisely as possible. His fingers definitely were too big. 

"Oh," she sounded. 

A breathy laugh came from behind her, the exhale twisting through the hair on the top of her head. "Would y'do something for me, love?" he asked, finally packing enough in as tightly as he could before he started folding the ends of the thin paper. 

She gave a nod, now too transfixed on his hands to speak with an even tone. 

"Would you give this a lick for me?" he asked, "We've gotta seal it up before I can twist it all up." 

"Like, the paper?" she clarified, eyeing the open flap he was presenting to her with the joint grasped carefully between his fingers. 

Harry hummed a confirmation. "There's glue on this edge like an envelope. Gotta make it sticky, then I can close it up for us."

"Um, okay," she muttered, placing a steadying hand on his wrist as he brought the almost-joint to her lips. 

Parting her mouth, she swiped the tip of her tongue along the very edge of the paper. It didn't taste quite as artificially sweet as a regular envelope, but then again, everything was coated in that dusky scent that the herb folded inside held. 

"Thank you, baby," he told her, pulling the joint from her lips as he did the closing motion of sealing the edge to the roll. She watched as he did the final step, twisting down the free edge into a tight swirl before he presented it with the filtered end between his fingertips. "All done." 

In front of (Y/N) was the stereotypical joint that she had seen in the few films that showed as much. The paper was translucent in the way that she could clearly see it was filled from the inside with dark, green flakes. The filtered edge was tapered down into a small funnel, leaving the head of the roll trumpeting out, thick with the ground up weed. 

"That was fast," (Y/N) muttered, wanting to reach out and touch, but too scared. 

"I've gotten pretty good, I can't lie," he joked with her, pressing his lips to the back of her head. A paused settled again before he spoke to her, his head still dipped down as he murmured, "Y'still feeling alright, darling? Still want to, or do y'want to go to bed and watch a movie instead?" 

Examining the joint in front of her, the thick scent of the weed surrounding her with the heat of Harry's chest at her back, she nodded her head. "I still want to." 

Dropping an arm to wrap around her waist from behind, Harry hugged her to him for a moment. "Grab a jacket then, and we'll go out back for a second, yeah?" 

"Outside?" she asked, turning in his hold. 

"Don't want it stinking up the house, right?" He looked at her with a raised brow, already stepping towards the closet in search of his own coat. "We'll be fast, baby, 's alright." 

(Y/N) supposed he was onto something, realizing that she had never been struck by the heavy scent like she would figure if he had smoked in his bedroom. As long as no one complained, it wasn't a bad idea to head outback for a second. It would be nice to take in deep breaths in between the smoke too, she figured. 

With a set of slippers on her feet, and a thick hoodie on her body, she followed Harry out the back door, ending on the back patio. He sat on the stoop at her feet, patting the space next to him. 

"Warm enough?" he asked, moonlight waning above their heads. 

Snuggling closer to his side, she nodded her head. "I'm alright, thank you. Are you warm?" 

Despite the unzipped jacket on his form and the thin t-shirt underneath, Harry gave her a small smile. "'M good, baby." 

Flicking out a lighter and the joint from his pocket, he sparked the flame with a flick of his fingers. 

He ran the spark over the trumpeted tip of the joint, his face warming in the firelight glow. "We'll take it easy tonight, yeah?" he murmured, concentration on his hands, "I don't think it'll take much to get y'there, so we probably won't finish this but we'll save the rest for another time if you want." 

She watched as he rotated the edge of the joint over the flame, evenly burning the tip. "Are you not going to have any?" 

"I will," he assured her, "But, I want to make sure I can take care of you. I won't be having too much." 

Having a deja vu moment, (Y/N) was reminded of how it felt to be sitting in his lap as he fed her wine, keeping his own head clear while he let her run wild. 

With the end of the joint glowing a warm orange, Harry put the lighter away. He ashed the very tip away, revealing cool lavender smoke twisting through the air with a heady scent clinging to the particles. 

"Want the first go?" he asked, tipping the roll towards her in an offer. 

"No, no," she answered immediately, "You first." 

His smile was lopsided as he agreed, pulling the joint to his mouth. She watched as he tucked the filtered end between his lips, taking in a shallow inhale with the fiery end glowing to life. His chest expanded as he inhaled. He only pulled the roll away from his lips when his chest was puffed with smoke, a lingering second passing before he exhaled, plumes of dancing smoke drifting through the air. The heavy, thick aroma of the weed surrounded them. 

(Y/N) couldn't pull her eyes from him as the smoke seeped from between his lips, a thin, violet filter hazing his features. The moon above seemed to catch each particle, drowning the scene in cool toned shades, muted and closed. 

She waited for something to change in the way he looked, the way he acted. When the only thing he did was turn to her with a blink, once again offering the joint to her for a try, she wasn't sure what she had expected. 

"Do y'think y'can do that?" 

Her brows creased. "Do what?" 

Amusement molded his features as he tipped his chin towards his offering. "Taking a hit," he stated, "Inhaling, and everything." 

"I-I think so," she answered, carefully pulling the roll from his fingers. She hesitated before taking it to her lips, nervous to replicate his actions while he watched. "Do you feel any different?" 

His smile was warm as he shook his head. "No—probably won't be too different tonight. I've built my tolerance pretty high, so I'll be fine." 

"Oh," she sounded, feeling the slightest bit disappointed knowing that she wouldn't get the full experience of seeing him for what he was under the influence. Maybe sometime she could convince him to let it go. Focusing back on the joint, she stared intensely at the thin ribbon of smoke falling from the tip. "How do I inhale?" 

"Jus' breathe in, baby," Harry laughed, throwing an arm across her shoulders. He tucked her against his side, warming her through her layers. "Only take a little bit at a time, though. And, if y'need to cough, jus' let it happen. You'll be alright." 

Though it was only a few tiny rules, it felt like so much to remember, to keep track of while she was trying something so foreign.

"Wh-What if I take too much?" she muttered, worrying now the longer that she let it keep burning. She hoped she wasn't wasting everything he'd done for her. 

Harry paused, rolling her question around his head before answering. "You'll be alright," he assured her, "Jus' don't want you to take too much, or anything, that's all." 

The idea of taking too much scared her more than the other rules. She didn't know what too much was; how would she know if there was too much in her lungs, how would she know if she needed to pull back? 

"Can you help me?" she murmured, worry lacing through her tone. 

"I can hold it for you if you want?" he offered, though his option didn't seem so concrete as she had hoped. 

"You can't do more?" 

A small silence sat between them when he didn't answer right away. She looked to him, finding him looking at the joint between her fingers with a contemplative crease between his brows. 

"I might have an idea that we can try," he started, flicking his gaze to match hers. "Y'trust me, right?" 

Her nod was immediate. 

A small smile folded his lips as he took the joint from her hand. He brought the roll to his lips, taking in another deep inhale with his eyes fluttering as his chest expanded. The cherry brightened as he pulled in the smoke. As soon as he pulled it away from his mouth, he spoke to her in a muddled voice, a small streak of smoke escaping through his nose. 

"C'mere." 

(Y/N)'s eyes rounded out in confusion. She was already right here, right?

The arm Harry had thrown across her shoulders slithered around her form until his palm came to a cradle on her cheek. He pressed forward then, his lips parting just enough for (Y/N) to get the hint. 

He wanted to kiss her.

Fluttering her eyelids to a close, she leaned forward in an attempt to meet him halfway. Harry, with his hand on her cheek, stopped her short, a small distance left between them. 

With her eyes opening to slits, she found him looking to her with his own gaze trained on her lips. His tender hand on her cheek shifted until his thumb was resting in the full of her bottom lip. Tugging just slightly, he parted her pout into a small gape. Harry ripped his head, leaning just that much closer with his pursed lips. 

(Y/N) held her breath, her own mouth parted open as she felt soft plumes of smoke fan over her lips. His lips just barely grazed her own, pressing against the soft pillows as the smoke ghosted over her tongue, heady and thick.

Pulling away just enough with smoke still twirling around his features, he told her, "Breathe in, baby." 

His voice was still heavy in his throat, emulating the way he spoke in the morning. The detail gave (Y/N) something to focus on as she instinctually closed her mouth as if biting down, the smoke now contained to a thin veil between them. He kept his hand steady on her cheek as she inhaled the way she saw him do, her chest bloating as she filled her lungs with the gifted smoke. 

While she didn't feel the burning in her chest that she thought would accompany the smoke, she instead felt a thick heat in the back of her throat. She tried to mimic what she had seen Harry do, keeping the smoke in her lungs for a moment before exhaling, but she couldn't keep up when she felt her eyes begin to water. 

Unable to handle it much longer, (Y/N) released her breath in clumsy pants, embarrassed to be reacting so intensely right in Harry's face. Though, all he did was stay steady in his spot by her, thumbing at her chin and coaxing her through it. 

Tipping her head down, she finally coughed into her sleeve, eyes watering as she went with his hand falling to the slope of her neck. 

"'S alright, baby, jus' let it out," he murmured, his voice a gentle soothe, "You'll feel better in a second, love." 

By the time she regained her breath, there was a slight glaze over the back of her throat—not quite a tingle, but not entirely normal. Harry tipped his head down by then, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth with his palm spanning the shelf of her collarbones. 

"Y'alright?" he murmured, ever patient when he pulled away to match her eyes. 

Nodding her head, (Y/N) swallowed around her odd throat. "Was that alright?" she croaked, wet bottom lashes grazing the height of her cheekbone.

A fond smile molded Harry's features into soft curves. "Y'did jus' fine, lovebug. So proud of you for not getting scared," he praised her, thumb running over her warm skin, "Feels a little weird doesn't it?" 

(Y/N) didn't have to think before she nodded her head, watching as he ashed the joint they had probably let burn for just a touch too long. "Really weird," she told him earnestly, "My throat feels funny, but that's all so far."  

"Yeah? Want to keep going?" His eyes skated over her features, taking in every reaction, every minute stretch of her muscles. 

While she was sure there was something that would hit soon, she still felt comfortable enough to take a little more from him. (Y/N) answered with a small nod. 

"Same way we did before?"

Remembering the feel of his lips glancing across hers, the faint brush of the tip of his nose over hers, she could feel her skin simmering. "Yeah," she answered, hoping he thought the breathy quality of her voice was a lingering side effect of her coughing. 

He didn't look entirely fooled when that sly smile touched his lips. "Alright," he said, bringing the joint back up to his lips, "We'll do a couple more, then I think you're done, baby. That alright?" 

"That's alright," she murmured, "Thank you." 

This time, watching him taking in the long drag, (Y/N) knew what to expect when he turned to her. She allowed him to hover close enough that he was almost kissing her as he blew out another plume of smoke for her to inhale. When she took her time filling her lungs with the smoke, Harry tipped his head and smeared his lips over her cheek, kissing down her neck. 

She had more confidence this go around, coaxing herself through as Harry held her. That thick feeling in the back of her throat intensified as she closed her eyes, her chest expanding under her borrowed hoodie. 

"Doing good, baby," he murmured into her ear, pulling away to match her gaze, "Go ahead and breathe out, love. I think you're good." 

Following his direction, the lavender smoke twirled between them. Sucking in clean air, she filtered out her lungs. This time around, opening up her eyes to look up at the moonlight and the stars blinking over the inky canvas, things felt different. There was a bit of lethargy to her movements, even in the darting of her gaze. Her limbs felt as if there was extra weight attached, something heavy that slowed her before she even had a chance to move.

It was an odd feeling, something that she'd never experienced before or had anything of comparison to, but it wasn't unpleasant. She'd even say she liked it so far.

Harry seemed to pick up on the fact that she was edging into new territory as he watched over her, eyes sparking from amusement. "One more?" 

"Yeah," she settled, her lips feeling looser the more she sunk into the moment, "One more." 

"Wanna try by yourself?" he asked, taking his own small puff from the joint before he was angling it towards her. 

"Not by myself, no," she argued, still scared to be in charge of her own dosing. 

"I can hold it for you if y'want—take it back when you've had enough," Harry offered, letting a cloud leave his lips as he spoke. 

"Okay," she nodded, taking on his offer. 

"Open," he instructed, setting the filter of the joint between her lips, "Then jus' suck in, okay? You'll be able to feel it in the back of your throat, so stop if you've had enough and I haven't taken it back yet." 

(Y/N) wrapped her lips around the filter, taking in Harry's directions with absent ears. She couldn't imagine he wouldn't be able to catch herself and her intake before he did. 

Emulating what she'd seen from him before, she sucked in, her cheeks hollowing just enough to show off the shape of her cheekbones. The back of her throat warmed, embers igniting in a low burn. This was more than what Harry had given her before, but she didn't mind. This would be just enough,she figured.

At the perfect moment, Harry pulled away prompting her to breathe out the final cloud of smoke. He asked the joint once more, a small pile of grey dust having collected at their feet. 

A few huffed coughs fell from (Y/N)'s lips, unused to the feeling of gathering the smoke directly from the source. Harry wrapped his arm around her, tucking her into his side as she eased through the final intake. 

"How do you feel?" he asked her, voice low under the moonlight. 

Looking around, (Y/N) tried to find the answer to the question. 

It was an odd feeling, she decided. She felt both light and heavy at the same time, her head in the clouds with her body entirely anchored to the ground. Prickles poked at her skin, her limbs their own entity as she brought her hands into a bundle in her lap. 

There was no other way to describe it other than the fact that she felt high. 

"Good," she answered simply, "Different." 

"You'll get used to it, my love," he murmured into her ear, pressing a soft kiss to the space just before. 

"Do you feel different?" she asked, her voice heavy in her dry throat. 

"A little," Harry explained, stubbing out the cherry of the joint, "But, I think 's time we get inside before either of us freezes, don't you think?" 

"Yeah, yes."

It was when Harry let out a small huffed laugh that (Y/N) couldn't contain her own laughter. A loud peal fell from her lips. She wasn't even sure why she was laughing. That only made her laugh harder.

—————

"That is so funny," (Y/N) giggled to herself, clenching her hands in the fabric of her top lest she forget they were there. "Harry, did you see that?! It was funny!" 

He was back in the kitchen, working over the stove with a pot of noodles boiling away and a cheesey sauce working on the other burner, leaving (Y/N) to watch this movie all on her own. 

"Which part, baby?" he asked, his rumbling voice sounding farther away than she remembered. 

(Y/N) blinked, watching the brightly colored animated characters go across the television screen. "The one that was just on! With the cat on the piano!" 

How could he not have been paying attention? (Y/N) had never seen something so entertaining before, if she was being honest. This had to be her new favorite movie—she just needed to remember what it was called. 

"Oh," he sounded, "I did see that, sorry, lovebug. It was very funny." 

"Good," she responded absently, craning her neck to look over the back of the couch towards where he stood in the kitchen, "I'm so hungry, H." 

"I know," he laughed, looking at her with his skin seemingly glowing and the smile of a prince. "'M almost done, okay?" 

"How close is ‘almost’?" 

His smile only widened at her line of questioning. (Y/N) mimicked that look without a thought. 

"About five minutes. Can you wait that long?" 

"I'll try." She couldn't help the pout that took her features. She had told him she was hungry what felt like hours ago, and she still was waiting for food. He wouldn't even let her help either, but she could argue that she would have eaten already if he just let her follow him to the kitchen.

Raising his brows, Harry fixed his attention back on the television screen. "Oh, look. The little cat is back, baby." 

(Y/N)'s attention took a one-eighty as she did the same to face the TV once more. Harry was right, the kitten was back on screen. She didn't want to miss this. 

The high had hit her at full force only minutes after Harry had taken her inside, setting off a firing squad of so many different feelings (Y/N) had never experienced before. She had so much energy, but at the same time she wanted to sleep. She wanted to kiss and hold her boyfriend, but also had to make a point to remember where her limbs were. She wanted to eat and drink as much water as she could, but couldn't find the attention to do either of those things. In the back of her mind, she even debated on writing some for the course paper she needed to work on before the midterm exam next month—her mind swirling with ideas, but they were all out of order. 

How she decided on watching a movie instead of any of her other raucous ideas, she wasn't sure, but she was happy with the choice. This way, she was able to wrap up in the soft pink throw blanket that she left in his bedroom, sink into the new feeling, and make out with Harry when he was done cooking.

(It had really been Harry's prompting and prodding that led her to the conclusion that yes, she wanted to watch a movie and cuddle up with him while she ate, but he was happy with letting her assume it had been her own choice).

Time moved in mysterious ways since the high had hit, making it hard to decipher if it had been five hours or mere five minutes before Harry came to her with bowls of pasta and a buttery warm sauce poured over top. 

"That looks so good, H," she bubbled, overjoyed at the sight of food, "Thank you so much!" 

"You're welcome, baby," he smiled, "Do you need more water?" 

"No, just—Hold on." (Y/N) stumbled over her words, organizing her thoughts as steadily as she could and ultimately failing in favor of reaching towards Harry.

The second he settled into the cushion at her side, she had his jaw cradled in her palms, lips puckered and pressed against the corner of his mouth. A laugh bubbled through his lips, his smile felt under her kiss. 

"I missed," she laughed along with him, pulling away to watch his eyes light up and creases form around his smile, "Sorry." 

"'S alright," he beamed, cheeks still cradled in her palms, "Jus' slow down and try again." 

Though she didn't exactly have the wherewithal to follow his directions, she definitely tried her best. This time, she felt as if she went slower as she leaned in, pressing her lips to Harry's. He reciprocated her affection in soft kisses, (Y/N) melting the longer she reveled in his touch.

Her skin practically sang everywhere he touched her, taking her back to her wonderings of if there would be something extra to their affection while under the influence. That prickling that she had felt in her limbs just when the smoke started taking effect, now only occurred when he ran his fingertips over her skin or held her hand in his. The buzzing made her smile into the kiss, the pinpoint tickling under her skin.

"What's got you so smiley, hm?" Harry asked against her mouth, pulling away despite the tender hold she had on his cheeks. 

She beamed up at him with an easy grin, a rose colored glaze over her vision of him. "I just like touching you," she told him, "It tickles." 

He raised his brows in reaction, biting back a smile. "It tickles?" 

Watching the clear amusement on his face, (Y/N) couldn't help her own smile from turning into bubbling laughter. "Uh-huh," she barely answered, everything else dissolving around her laughter. 

"Now, why are you laughing?" 

Harry's investigation only proved to make the entire moment funnier to (Y/N) as she doubled over. Snuggling into his chest, she clung to him with her laughter muffled against his shoulder. "I don't know," she giggled, barely sure that the words even left her brain. 

"Oh, lovebug," he crooned, wrapping his arms around her, "What am I going to do with you?" 

A contented smile landed on (Y/N)'s features as she settled down. She burrowed against him, smushing her cheek on his shoulder and bundling her arms between their bodies. "Love me." 

The tip of Harry's nose skimmed the top of her head. "I already do that," he told her, words fanning across the strands of hair crowning her. 

"I love you too," (Y/N) answered simply. 

The cryptic sense of time she held struck once again when Harry drew away from her. Her body had relaxed into his as if she had napped on him for hours, but she could have been nestled in his arms for a max of three minutes for all she knew. 

"Are y'still hungry? Or do y'want me to save your noodles for later?" 

With that, (Y/N) swore her mind had been blown. "You brought me food, I totally forgot!" Twirling too fast for her brain to keep up, she was almost dizzy by the time she saw the bowl of pasta Harry had set in front of her, complete with salty cheese layered on top just like she asked. "That looks so good, H! Thank you." 

Harry gave her a small smile. "You're welcome, baby." 

A minute sense of deja vu niggled in the back of her head for just a second, but (Y/N) chose to ignore it in favor of twirling her fork through the spaghetti noodles.  

Had cheese always tasted this good? 

—————

"Harry, are you listening? This song is beautiful." 

"I know, love. 'S perfect, huh?" 

The drawl of Harry's response had (Y/N) peeking up at him. She found him lying with his eyes closed, mouth parted in a small gape, though his hand on her back never slowed the soothing circle he had curated.

"Are you tired?" (Y/N) whispered. 

A slight smile touched the corner of his mouth at her question. "A little. Are you?" 

(Y/N) paused, evaluating herself to give him an honest answer. "Yeah. A little." His heartbeat was set to a soothing pace under her ear, slowing into a steady rhythm as if urging him to sleep. "Are you almost asleep?" 

Though she could see his eyes were closed and his breathing was coming in soft puffs, Harry didn't slack on the duties he had taken on for the night. Since pulling her to bed and setting a playlist to softly sing through his bedroom, he had kept his cuddling hold on her firm and anchoring. He answered her every time she spoke to him and even crawled his way to the bedside table to skip the song whenever she started to whine over the melody. 

"A little," he smiled, his voice a deep rumble, "Are you?"

Another pause. "Maybe," (Y/N) answered honestly. She could fall asleep right now if she wanted, but she also wanted to keep listening to music. 

Harry hummed, his chest vibrating under her cheek. "Is there anything y'want before y'get sleepy? More water or a snack?" 

What did she need before she could peacefully fall asleep? 

Blinking her gaze up at him, she took in the tip of his nose, the curving pillow of his cupid's bow and the creamy texture of his skin. 

"A kiss? Please?" 

At that, Harry cracked his eyes open to peer down at her. "Y'haven't had enough of those yet?" 

"Never," she answered, completely honest. Harry still plucked a smile onto his lips at her response. 

"Can't blame you, darling—me neither." 

Shifting between the sheets, Harry used his free hand to cup (Y/N) cheek and tip her chin as he dipped down. He sealed his lips over hers in a loving kiss, nothing more than a soft pressing of their lips. She swore she could feel every ridge, every dip, every plane of his touch, catalogued to her memory though she hoped she would recall it in less fuzzy detail. 

"Love you," she murmured between breaths, immediately planting her lips across his once more. 

Harry smiled into the contact. He broke the rhythm of her kisses even further when he drew away, ignoring the way she chased after him with a craned neck and puckered lips.

"I love you too, lovebug." His eyes scanned over her features not for the first time that night, though something softened in his gaze. "You had a good time tonight?"

Walking through the lavender veiled events, everything was just a bit hazy and herbal, (Y/N)'s smile only grew. 

"Uh-huh," she beamed up at him, feeling herself settle into him that much more, "Thank you for showing me." 

Thumbing at the height of her cheekbone, Harry surged forward to press a delicate kiss to the bridge of her nose. "'M happy y'feel good, darling. That's all I want when we try new things." 

"I'm always happy when I'm with you." 

(Y/N) blinked as she saw his face light up with a bubbly smile, creases appearing by his eyes, dimples thumbed into his cheeks, and a slight flush over his nose. 

Had his smile always been that pretty?

—————

eeeek! so happy I could get a new aster blurb out for everyone this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and lmk if yu have any ideas for anything you'd like to see!

[queers-gambit]

Pretty Boy Swag

prompt: your big ass family comes to town and hosts a town-wide family reunion. after they meet your boyfriend for the first time, your proximity is criticized, and when you try to fall back, Eddie's swift to your side again. -> or when someone else calls you clingy, you try to fall back but your man doesn't want that.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 6.2k+

note: AQPDO got me back on my Joe kick, Goddamnit

warnings: Eddie being the man we all want and deserve, kinda AU timeline (Eddie lives, Vecna still happened, and school is back in session? it confused me too, but fuck it we ball). shitty family members being judgmental. the fuck is this plot? idk her. there's insecurity, drama, anxiety, obviously some angst, but mostly hurt / comfort. drug use (it's Eddie, c'mon), kinda abrupt ending, author's lowkey a pyromaniac and advises you do not play with fire or gasoline.

The summer was soon to end, leaving behind a muggy, thick heat that broke several air conditioning units around town from power usage. Windows were left wide open for cross breezes, doors, too; and fans were cranked up high. There was a rather nasty storm on the way in, but luckily, with it, came the usual drop in temperature - just in time for the coming week's activities. The last week of summer before the dreaded school year began anew, but luckily, it was officially senior year.

Eddie jogged up the rickety porch stairs and opened the unlocked screen door that was close to rusting off its hinges; the front door open and an oscillating fan turned on to blow a breeze at Ed.

The door swung open without effort, banging loudly and making Wayne glance up, "Hey, kid."

"Hey, Unc."

"There's a sandwich in the fridge, if you're hungry," Wayne cleared his throat, smoking a cigarette at the tiny coffee table covered in stacks of bills.

"Thanks," Eddie mumbled. "Here," he dropped a small wad of bills to the table.

"The hell's this?" Wayne scoffed, glaring up at the kid - who shrugged.

"Should be enough for utilities and water, maybe a bit for groceries," Eddie answered, grabbing a beer from the fridge and sighing with a grunt as he dropped into the arm chair.

"You selling dope again?"

"It's consistent money."

"You know I don't like that shit, kid."

"Which is why you don't see it - you just get the cash."

Wayne scoffed in amusement and smirked, nodding while releasing a deep sigh. "All right, uh, thanks, kid. I appreciate this."

Eddie nodded, brows furrowing as his mind whirled from his excursion in town; musing, "Something's gotta be in the air."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Tell you what, people are... Really in the market to buy this week. Everywhere I went was so crowded - I couldn't even get Goddamn cigarettes - "

"Watch your mouth, boy," Wayne reprimanded automatically. While he was all too used to Eddie's foul mouth, he still didn't like him using the Lord's name in vain. "It's all that, uh, anticipation," Wayne shrugged, dividing a few cash bills to an envelope, "got people all excited."

"Anticipation about what?"

"For the L/N Reunion."

"The what?"

Wayne looked up, offering a stale look, "L/N? Your girlfriend's family?"

Eddie sounded exasperated, "I know that - I'm asking what the hell you're talking about?"

"The L/N family, they've lived in these parts for generations. So, when they have these, like, uh, family reunions, it's an entire town-wide event. Everyone tries to go. I guess you must've been... Oh..." He shrugged, "8 or so last time they were all here. Whole place gets energized, they all participate; you know, it's a big cookout and shit."

"Right."

"It's usually a good time," Wayne assured, taking another drag. "And when it's not, it's because it's a really good time. They use the field out back behind Sullivan's old place?"

"No shit," Eddie chuckled, taking a slug.

"Uh-huh," Wayne hummed, the cig bobbing; ash dropping to dust the bills. "They get a bunch of tents and shit; catering, too - it's like a big carnival. Heard some might drive some caravan in." Eddie was briefly reminded of his adventures in the mobile home with Steve Harrington and Company, yet there was no time to dwell because Wayne was questioning, "Your girl didn't say anything to you 'bout this?"

Eddie's head slowly shook, "No, but she's comin' over tonight."

"I got work."

"I know."

Wayne chuckled, "Which reminds me, I grabbed you a box of condoms."

"Oh, Unc, no!" Eddie begged with a groan.

"You're too young for a baby, Eddie!"

"Doesn't mean buy me condoms, old man!"

"You could just say thank you!"

"I'm not thanking you for condoms!"

The screen door hit the frame in a startling bang, the thin metal slipping from your shocked grip. You stepped into the trailer home, giggling, "Whaaaat the hell did I just walk in on?"

"Oh, hi, baby," Eddie greeted in a grumble; one hand wiping his face, trying to hide his embarrassment, "so glad you heard that!"

"Hey, honey," Wayne followed, you stepping inside and depositing your usual purse by the door.

"Everyone okay?" You asked teasingly.

"Yeah, Eddie's bein' dramatic again," Wayne spoke casually. "Hey, I, uh, I heard about the Reunion. That's gotta be real excitin', 'uh?"

"Oh, God," you groaned lightly, Eddie straightening himself up to invite you onto his lap. "Honestly, Unc? I was hoping this might be the one place in town I could escape from talking about that."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't - "

"No, no, I only mean, it's been nonstop in my family," you pouted. "Everything's gotta be perfect, so there's this, like, palpable tension, which makes it a madhouse, you know, 'cause everyone's coming into town. It's peaceful here."

"They all stayin' at yours?" Eddie asked softly, acutely aware and in-tune with your tangible anxiety; deflating himself and his energy to better absorb yours.

"Yeah," you pouted.

"All of them?"

"Until the festivities kick off, then most are gonna camp."

Wayne frowned, "When was the last time you saw 'em all?"

You breathed deeply, mulling his words while Eddie took a swig of beer; fingers flexing to pet where he held your hip. "Years ago," you answered, "and while it's really nice to spend time with them all, it's just..." You trailed off, frowning.

"A li'l much?" Wayne supplied.

"In the simplest terms, oh yeah," you sighed deeply. "I'm really grateful to still have time with them, don't get me wrong, but Christ Alive. There's four people in my room, we have two cousins in the attic, there's an Auntie in my parent's room, another couple in the basement - it's an absolute mad house!"

Wayne nodded with sympathy, seeing the way you pouted and dropped into Eddie's chest under his chin. His brows instantly crinkled, collecting you closer into his chest in comfort; keeping you curled across his lap. Wayne glanced at the wad of bills Eddie had contributed and sighed, gathering up both paper and cash bills. As he cleaned up around him, Wayne spoke, "You can, uh, stay here, if you wanna."

"Huh?" You gaped, looking at Wayne in earnest shock. "No, no, no, it's not - I just meant to complain to get it off my chest, you know? I wasn't fishing for - "

"I know, honey, but I can physically feel your stress from here," he chuckled. "Tell you what, if you agree to make dinner, you can crash here for the week."

With a grin, you nodded, "Your bodies might go into shock, I'm gonna force y'all to eat vegetables."

Both men laughed in amusement, the tension melting as you were obviously relieved by the fact that you wouldn't have to stay at your family home for the duration of the Reunion. It loosened you up, the trio happy to indulge in witty, harmless banter before Wayne was filing the bills in a mucked-up manilla folder. He stood to get ready for work, leaving you and Eddie in the armchair.

"Can I ask a favor?" You whispered into his neck, slowly pressing open, languid kisses to the sensitive skin.

"Anything you want, baby."

"I should go pack an overnight bag."

"Want me to come, too?"

"No, no, I was gonna ask you to go grab us dinner while I was gone," you mused, smirking gently; his head tilting back and sighing through his nose. "Oh, don't - "

"No, no, baby, it's fine," he scoffed, "we've just been dating 4 years and I haven't met your family. Like the whole family."

You scoffed, "So?"

"Do you not, you know, like, want me to?"

"I think it's more really not wanting you to meet them, Eddie - it's different."

You tried to stand, but his arms were like vices; keeping you in place and speaking softly, "Baby, how? Don't you think it's time? Nothing - not even your family - is gonna make me love you less. Plus, like, isn't the whole town invited to this Reunion?"

"I mean..."

"Did you think we were gonna avoid each other the whole week?"

"I was kinda hoping we wouldn't even go, if I'm honest," you admitted sadly, "but I'm a really good girlfriend, so we're going 'cause I know who would be most inclined to buy whatever product you might have left."

"Wow, you're gonna bring me new customers? Your family, too, huh?"

"Who said anything about family?" You smirked.

"Baby," Eddie sighed, pinning you with the beginnings of his puppy dog eyes, "if you're embarrassed, you can just say that - "

"Of what? Of you?"

"Well, yeah, or of us."

"Eddie, that's the farthest thing from the truth!" Guilt sounded through your words, "Baby, I love you - but I know my family and I don't want them to, like, infect you."

"Not possible," he hummed, bringing you in close to press a kiss to your lips in reassurance.

Not wanting to dwell, you quickly changed the subject and whispered against his lips, "Will you please go pick up a pizza from Reggie's?"

Eddie's head reared back slightly, his expression morphing into confusion, "Reggie doesn't sell pizza, baby."

"He does for me, I'll call it in if you can pick it up. It's just in the opposite direction of my house."

"Baby gets what baby wants."

You scoffed a laugh, kissing him again and standing finally, offering your hand to him; helping yank Ed from his seat just as Wayne was reappearing. After calling Reggie, you all left at the same time, shuffling out into the parking lot together to bid Wayne goodbye; waving as he drove off. Then, Eddie swiftly huddled you into the backdoors of his van; holding your legs around his hips.

Shocked laughter racked your lungs, holding onto his shoulders as he nuzzled directly into your neck and balanced your weight in his arms. He breathed in deeply, you petting the back of his head, both feeling yourselves recharge; usually trying to refrain from these grand gestures of PDA in front of Wayne. "Missed you today," Eddie mumbled, lips tickling your ear, causing you to slightly squirm.

"We were apart all of, what? 4 hours?" You mused quietly with a grin.

"Too long," he whined.

"I know, pretty boy. Which is why we have to hurry up - the faster you go get dinner and I go home, the faster we can come back here. I'm thinking... Blunts and movies tonight?"

Ed lifted up, your chest feeling cold from his retracted heat; but his face was calculating, then agreeing, "Yeah, we gotta go, let's go, c'mon, let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Max could hear your laughter from where she pet her neighbor's dog.

Honestly? The only thing missing from the Reunion were actual carnival game prizes - like stuffed animals, goldfish, novelty gags, sports team embroidered plush memorabilia.

There were caravans of RV's - both rented and owned - lined up with cars of all shapes, sizes, colors, and passenger capacity; Christmas lights strung up around them like spiderwebs. Patio tables were erected to host intimate groups of people while banquet tables were used to boast an array of foods and drinks. Different speakers were set out and connected, playing the same soundtracks - while others at other distances played different genres. The soft ground from previous rain had hardened from the amount of feet (of all sizes) stomping over the mud and grass. Solo cups dotted the area like stars splatter the sky.

Oh! There was also a clown missing! The Reunion did not hire a clown - unless you count Uncle David...

"You scared yet?" You asked, sitting in the open passenger seat of Eddie's van, the back doors wide open to host the attending party members. Eddie was leaning at the hinges beside you, facing the back of the van, quickly dropping his gaze onto you and straightening up.

Eddie shifted subtly, side-stepping so he stood in front of you for a semi-private conversation. "Oh, please, think I'm the scariest guy 'round these parts. Your family's harmless."

"Oh, uh-huh," you mused, scoffing a small chuckle before taking a lazy pull of your red solo cup; matching those scattered in the field. Don't worry, though, 'cause your cousins were Litter Bugs and would pick up any and everything they come across when clean-up commenced. It was a rule of the Reunion - leave the area better than you found it.

"You good, baby?" Eddie asked softly, trying to keep his voice quiet; which was easy, since Robin and Steve were cracking boisterous jokes to the group.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," you nodded, eyes glazed as you peered over Eddie's shoulder to survey the absolute (controlled) chaos your family entertained.

"Yeah, 'cause that's so convincing."

You sighed and leaned forward some; legs hooking around Eddie's and encouraging him forward so your chin rested on his sternum. "I promise, I'm okay," you whispered with a smile, "just a little overwhelmed."

He nodded, petting a loose strand of hair off your face. "You've not really seen your family much," he noted, "been hiding here with us the whole time."

"I'll... Get around to it."

"When?"

"Eddie," you sighed, pulling back to still look up at him - curse his gangly frame.

"C'mon, baby," he pouted, "come introduce me to your family. Huh? I think it's time, I'm excited."

You felt frozen for a moment before Dustin's voice was whining, "When's dinner? Whole field smells like good eats."

Eddie pinned you with a small 'told you so' look, chuckling as you groaned and nudged him back a little to slide from your seat. "All right," you announced to the group, "c'mon, let's go mix and mingle. Play nice and they'll feed you."

You didn't even hear the small chorus of chuckles as your ears blasted the hammering sound of your nervous heartbeat. You cleared your throat as the group grabbed their things, Steve and Eddie closing the van doors before congregating together to begin stalking across the mud. With the red solo cup in one hand, your other was snatched swiftly by Eddie - tugging playfully to jolt you into his side and secure his arm around your shoulders.

You could see Hopper and Uncle David laughing almost to the point of tears; both with beers in hand, several others dotting around them to share in mirth. Wayne was tearing into a bacon cheese burger with an ice cold beer and a table full of "uncles" - or family friends you just called "uncle". Joyce Byers was playing corn hole with that PI the Hollands hired, Murray Bauman, to find their daughter, Barbra, years ago when Will Byers first went missing, too. They were being cheered on by a sea of cousins - all heavily intoxicated and keeping score on a chalkboard. The Wheelers were seen playing a few table games; Holly happy to play with your aunt's Australian Shepard, Auggie, while her parents were distracted. The Sinclairs were dancing together under the strung Christmas lights, Erica accepting a gargantuan size cotton candy to share with a few friends. Well, honestly, with the way she was eyeing the sugary treat, you wouldn't be surprised if she inhaled it all by herself.

"Hey now, baby girl! Ova here!" You heard, glancing over automatically just to catch sight of your father waving you over to where he and his siblings stood with a few cousins, your mother, and a couple siblings.

"Baby," you mumbled, squeezing his hand. He instantly parted from Steve and followed you; both missing the looks exchanged amongst your family, a few perking their brows swiftly and others even rolling their eyes. "Hey, guys," you greeted kindly when you arrived around the patio table.

"There she is!"

You were happily received by your loved ones, exchanging pleasantries before automatically returning to Eddie's side. "Um, hey, guys, can I introduce you to my boyfriend, Eddie?" You made the proper introductions, holding his arm as he offered his dominant hand to shake as he greeted the family members he had begged you to meet.

"Got you this," your father purred, handing you a full plate of ribs and all accompanying fixings.

"And this, for Eddie," your mother handed you his plate carefully. "You know Cooper's cookin' goes first."

"Thank you, guys," your boyfriend appeared as if out of thin air over your shoulder, leaning in to peck your mother's cheek. He straightened up to shake your father's hand and take both plates from you as your sister stood from her seat.

"Here," she waved, letting you take her spot because it was the only place beside an open seat so you and Ed could sit together.

Darlene, some distant cousin, daughter of your Aunt Rebecca, scoffed, "What? You two have to sit right next to each other?"

You pulled a face, "Girl."

"It's no biggie," your sister instantly defended, "and it's Eddie's first time here, can't let him sit alone."

"Mhm," Darlene snickered, your hand subtly latching onto Eddie's thigh to give a comforting squeeze. He dropped a quick wink, leaning over to take a fork full of baked beans from your plate - humming obnoxiously when he ate it.

Before you knew it, a couple hours had passed, the sun setting, and the bonfire was being structured. In fact, your name had been hollered for aid, looking to Eddie out of habit. He smirked at you, petting the hand he held with his thumb, nodding slightly - not in permission, but in assurance. Before either could say something, your Aunt Rebecca mused (but really scolded), "Oh, Jesus Christ, you two! You're not gonna fall apart if you're not together 20 seconds, he'll be fine to hang while you get the fire goin', girl. Go!"

You bristled at her tone, but only minimally rolled your eyes at Eddie before pecking his lips as you stood from the chair you had been offered. "Be back, baby," you whispered, and as you straightened up, raised your voice, "don't listen to a single thing they say and don't let them bully you!"

Laughing over jeers, you offered your middle finger, slapped your hand into Cousin Allison's, then skipped towards the wooden teepee pyre. Turns out, all "adults" were too intoxicated to deal with the bonfire and your cousins all too nervous to use gasoline - hence why they needed help. So, you playfully pushed them back and fixed the structure; stuffed kindling in ideal places, sprinkled a responsible amount of gasoline, and with a piece of old newspaper, used a lighter to ignite the flame. Then, when it caught, you carefully used it to catch along the gas-soaked kindling. Once that initial contact was made, you dropped the paper and stepped back because, a moment later, the entire pyre caught flame with a small but defining whooshing sound.

The cousins cheered you on, amusement shared as Cousin Maxwell handed you a fresh solo cup as a reward. You blew past the praise, knowing they were just being dramatic for humor's sake; making your way back towards the group you had left - intent on making s'mores with Eddie. Except, Aunt Rebecca stood to meet you, just enough of a distance away that her words weren't overheard.

"So," she smiled, "he seems real nice."

"Hmm?" You took a sip of your drink.

"Your boyfriend."

"Oh," you nodded, "yeah, no, he's arguably the nicest guy I know."

"Even more than that Harrington fella?" She asked, eyeing your friend and twiddling her fingers flirtatiously. Steve smirked and waved back.

"Uh-huh. C'mon, Auntie," you nudged her, "your husband's right over there."

"He's fine," she scoffed.

"Well, all right - "

"Hang on," she halted you from leaving, seizing your arm. "I was just wondering, you know, how nice a boy can be with all them tattoos? I mean, only delinquents defile themselves like that."

You scoffed, "I seriously doubt inking your skin is an indication of kindness in a person - but that's a good one."

Rebecca halted your departure again by asking, "Well, how healthy do you think this is?"

"Be more specific, Auntie."

Her eyes rolled, "Your relationship, girl, pay attention."

You chose not to engage fully, just sighing, "It's the healthiest relationship I've ever known - not much thanks to you, since nobody in this family would know a healthy, functional relationship if it punched them in the face."

With a fake smile, you pulled your arm from her grip and only managed two steps before she was sneering, "You sure it's healthy the way you cling to him?"

"What was that?" You asked, slowly turning to face her.

"You're so clingy, it's actually concerning! David, Kyle, Bethany, Darlene, Casey, and Tom all agree with me, and not to mention, your mother told us that's normal behavior for you two - which is just a red flag, sweetie. You're lucky, though, 'cause when I was your age, my mama would've slapped me silly if I hung all over my boyfriend like that in front of her. You know it's distasteful, right, honey? Men don't like that - they don't want girls who are desperate for love that they claw onto them."

"I'm not clawing - "

"Whatever you're doing, sweetie," she mocked, "it's not a good look. I can smell your desperation - you do know, there's gonna be more boys later. This Eddie guy? He's not your end all, be all. First loves are fun, sure, but this is where you make your mistakes - so, take notes and then try not to do the same shit with your next man. Okay, pumpkin?" She patted your upper arm as if a child winning a sports participation trophy. "The kid is nice and all, but he's not gonna last, honey. Women in our family are prizes, you see, so, it takes a real stud to earn us - not some long-haired, tattooed punk. Don't embarrass this family anymore than you already have by thinking this is a sustainable relationship."

You slapped her hand away and stepped into her space, snarling, "You wanna try that again?"

Eddie glanced over and saw the two of you; needing a double take when he realized how tense the exchange looked. "Shit," he whispered, sitting up in attention while nudging Steve.

"Huh?" Eddie pointed, Steve turned, and after a beat, repeated, "Shit."

Rebecca stuttered and tried to explain, "I-I-I'm just saying - "

"Sounds like you're making pretty snap judgements about the man I love - based on what? His fucking appearance? Do you fucking hear yourself? Like, you're reprimanding me for dating when you're not even my parent. You need to take several steps back into your lane."

"I'm not reprimanding you for dating! Just for... For..."

"For dating Eddie?"

"For being so dangerously desperate!" She snapped. "Jesus, a kid like that? You don't have to cling too hard, he's lucky to just breathe your air! So, maybe loosen the reins, babe, it's not a good look to keep a man so... Beneath you so close and so tight."

Eddie launched from his chair in time to hear you laugh in response. "Yeah? Yeah? This comin' from the woman whose husband cheats on her more than he remembers their anniversary or her birthday? Is that what you mean by desperate?" You narrowed your eyes, "You're right - that is a real bad look. I mean, I've had years to watch you and decide, that's not what love is. That's not respect. Wow. Being desperate for love really is embarrassing, isn't it? Thanks for the advice, Auntie, but don't worry - first place for worst relationship is still steadfast yours. I mean, Eddie and I are actually compatible, you know? He and I actually like one another, mutually love another. Now, I know you're not used to that, so I guess I can excuse you mistaking 'love' for 'desperation' and being 'clingy' - "

"Baby, hey, hey, hey," Eddie caught you around the waist and pulled you back a few steps. "All good, it's all good - don't gotta argue, c'mon. Walk away, just walk away, c'mon, come with me." You scoffed in amusement while Rebecca looked close to tears, Eddie directing you in the opposite direction to force space. "What the hell was all that?" He asked in worry, arm slung around your neck as he checked over your shoulders to make sure you weren't being followed.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Didn't seem like it. C'mon, baby, what happened? Talk to me."

"When my family drinks, you know, they can just get a little mouthy."

"What'd she say?"

Insecurity exploded in your chest, freezing your tongue and heart, pumping icy shards through your body. You didn't want to worry nor upset Eddie by being honest, so you sighed, "Oh, just some dumb shit. She honestly sounded jealous... And bitter..."

"Ah, Uncle Paulie isn't giving it to her, huh?" He teased and you laughed, if only to not tip him off to the brewing storm of emotions threatening to take over.

"Guess not. Hey, uh," you glanced around, "you wanna get outta here?"

"What?" Eddie chuckled, "Baby, no, nah, c'mon, night's just starting. Fire's finally lit, and look," he pointed, "Dustin's challenging Mike to corn hole. And... Is that...?"

"Max and Lucas playing... Pong?"

"Looks like," Eddie smirked. "Think we're bad influences, baby."

"They're not even drinking - how much of an influence can we really be? Do they even pay attention, learn from us?" You teased, arms crossing across your chest in a light hold as Eddie tugged you a fraction closer to place a kiss on your temple. "Well, can we go back to the van and smoke? I left your hoodie in there and it's getting kinda chilly."

"Oh, you left it, huh?"

"Since I was the last in it? Yep."

Eddie chuckled and kept you under his arm all the way to his van, opening the backdoors and letting you climb in first. He shut the doors after himself and instantly rocked onto his back; you mimicking his position.

You both just stared at the ceiling for a moment; breathing together; existing as one. Then his head turned, yours did the same, meeting each other's eyes and without a single word exchanged, let your lips spread in matching smiles. Like two charged magnets, you both leaned in at the same time to let your lips meet in a sloppy meshing; playful, heated, and quick-tempo'd.

When Eddie pulled back, he whispered, "I love you."

After returning the sentiment, you both sat up to rest against the metal van walls and Eddie reached over to snag the wee box he used to store (some) of his drugs in. You breathed a sigh of relief while watching him, engaged in a new and distracting conversation - grateful he seemingly forgot about Aunt Rebecca's bullshit already.

Yet those words seemed to haunt you.

It's been about two weeks since the Reunion and you felt as if you were slowly losing whatever was left of your mind. School had officially started and with all your AP classes, you were already juggling several assignments.

Everywhere you went, everything you did - you second guessed the amount of energy, effort, and diligence you put forth into everything! School! Friends! Family! And you know who suffered the most? Eddie - of course he did! He was closest to you, of course he was on the frontlines; enduring some kind of silent attack.

You didn't know what to do - so, you did nothing! You avoided Eddie because you were afraid of being ridiculed like a bug under a microscope in biology class. It seemed reasonable; not wanting to dig a deeper grave, not wanting to give further room for judgmental assholes to feel comfortable enough to voice their opinions. It drove you insane, living in silence, in this empty space; going from joined at the hip to severed Siamese Twins.

"Hey," your mother perked up when you came through the front door, "what're you doing home?"

"Uh, I live here?"

She sat up from her lounging position, "No, I meant, it's Thursday - isn't Thursday date night with Eddie? You didn't go last week."

"Oh, uh, no, not this week, Ma, I've got this crazy essay I'm swamped with."

"Hm," she nodded slowly.

"What?"

"Hmm? No, no, nothing, it's nothing," she waved you off, and just before you could take a step, she continued, "it's just - last week, you said you had some big test to study for. And now you're blowing him off for an essay? Honey, school just started, you shouldn't be this stressed and upset so soon."

"What can I say, Ma? I'm not blowing him off, I'm focusing on school. You know, the thing you love yelling at me to do?"

"I'm happy you're buckled down, sweetie, I'm just not used to you being here so often. You know? Since you started dating Eddie, I feel like you're only really home some weekdays, and sometimes, I don't even see you! Now, you've been home and I'm just worried something might be, I don't know, wrong."

"The only thing wrong, Ma, is the amount of work I have to do."

She sighed and nodded, offering a tight-lipped smile; finally allowing you to make your escape. First, you stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and bag of trail mix, then, you made your way to your room; throwing your windows open, turning your stereo on a low volume, settling at your desk, and rolling a joint - but setting it aside for now. You unpacked your supplies, cracked your knuckles, and got to work handwriting ten pages on The Lord of the Flies.

There came a knock at your door, eyes cutting to your clock and noting you'd been working about an hour. Waving smoke from the freshly lit joint away your face, you plucked it from your lips, inhaled sharply, and called, "C'min!"

Eddie slipped in your room.

"What're you doing here?" You asked in shock, tilting your head back when he stood over you and accepting his kiss. The ends of his hair tickled your face from where he dangled himself over you.

"It's date night."

"Yeah, but I told you I had work, baby," you pouted at him, watching him set the paper bag he brought in front of you and taking the joint from your stalled hand.

"Mhm," he agreed while taking his pull, holding smoke in his lungs and still speaking, "which is why I brought it to you."

"Oh, yeah?" You chuckled, opening the bag and revealing your usual burger and fries order. "Eddie - "

"Eh?" He grinned, producing a milkshake from behind his back, "Ta-daaaa!"

"Oh, a man after my own heart!" You laughed, "You're literally perfect - thank you. This is really sweet."

He smirked and sat in the plush chair you left beside your desk just for him. "All right," he reached out to pick up the essay prompt as you ate a fry, "let's see here, uh... Lord of the Flies?"

"Yeah, it's about - "

"No, no, I know," he nodded, "I read it."

"You did?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I thought you didn't read anything except your D&D manual and Hard Rock Magazine?"

"Oh, ha-ha, don't forget Playboy," he mocked, you smirking. "All right, well, let's get crackin'."

"What?" You asked, watching him toss aside the paper prompt and pick up the novel.

"I'm helping you," he shrugged like it was common knowledge.

"You? You're gonna help me write this essay?" You laughed, handing him the half-eaten fry - which he accepted into his mouth without hesitation.

"Why is that funny?"

"You don't even do your own homework, baby!"

"Yeah, well, figured I'd help if it'll get done faster, you've been acting real funny."

"How?"

Eddie pinned you with a harsh look, "You've been distant."

You froze, knowing you're caught, but still responded, "Uh, no?"

"Uh, yes? Since the Reunion, I've barely seen you. And even when I do, it's at school. You don't come over, you don't invite me over, you canceled our date last week, tried to today, too. Baby, look, if something's wrong, you gotta tell me 'cause I can't fix shit if I don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong - "

"Try again."

"Eddie."

"Are you serious right now?" He asked, his voice no longer light and lithe, playful nor silly. "You might have yourself convinced, princess, but I know you better than that. Something's up, something's wrong. Talk to me, please."

"Why does something have to be wrong? Why can't I just be, like, tired or stressed? Or both?" You avoided his eyes, taking the joint from him.

"If you really want me to believe that, answer when you started smoking with homework?" This made you pause, shrugging in embarrassment. Eddie scoffed gently, "Lemme guess? You're just stressed?"

"It's not a lie!"

"But you're not telling me the full truth!" He leaned forward in his seat, reaching for your hand, frowning deeply. "Baby, I just want to help you. Since the Reunion, you've been distant, and I think it's to do with whatever your aunt said."

Tears filled your eyes, mutely taking another long inhale; gently ashing the joint in the tray on your desk hosting several stubbed-out filters. Swallowing the saliva that had pooled in your mouth harshly, you coughed gently upon exhaling the smoke; tears pooling and slowly cascading down your cheeks. Eddie sat closer in worry - literally sitting in a balancing act on the edge of his seat.

"You're right," you squeaked, unable to look at him; fingers beginning to shake. "Y-You're right, and I'm sorry, I just - I didn't know what to do, how to feel - "

"That's why you gotta talk to me, baby, so we can figure shit out together. Right? I help you, you help me," he spoke gently, reaching out to caress the back of your head. He sighed, standing, ushering, "C'mere, c'mon, stand up for me. C'mere."

He lead you to your bed, letting you sit as he toed out of his shoes before joining you. He settled on his back and pulled you in tight to his side; your arms like a vice around his waist, resting on his chest that was dampening from your tears. He rubbed your back and shoulders, up to your head, down to your waist and hip. Eddie spoke softly, encouraging you to talk when ready.

"She scolded me, I guess," you whispered, "because according to her, several other family members think I'm too clingy."

"She said what!?"

"Eddie," you groaned, his voice loud under your ear.

"Sorry, sorry - I just - she said you were too clingy? What? Seriously? Like - Like with me?"

"Yeah. Said it wasn't a good look," you admitted, and then, Eddie just remained silent as you poured your heart out and admitted all that was said. It felt like a never ending cycle; confessing that you loved Eddie so effortlessly, you didn't think you were loving him 'wrong', but your Aunt Rebecca's words made you second guess your own emotions.

And it honestly angered Eddie. No, not (only) about you being upset - but the reason for you being upset. He wished he knew the night it happened, remembering hearing your response to Rebecca, understanding your words now. He wished he knew, he would've had a word or two for your aunt; angry that this woman successfully made you doubt yourself. Doubt the way you love Eddie.

"Hey," Eddie whispered, hand on your jaw to gently encourage your head up so your eyes met his. "Don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Pull away from me. Try to change, doubt yourself, do different. Baby, I love you - and no, you're not fucking clingy. And even if you are, I love it because I love you, and that means loving all of you, exactly the way you are. Fuck your aunt, fuck anyone who had something to say, their jealousy and bitterness and ineptitude are their problem, not ours. And anyone who makes it our issue can get bent." You were honestly shocked into silence, just staring up at Eddie in a daze of wonder. "What?" He asked.

"I'm just processing you using 'ineptitude' correctly," you teased in a whisper.

"Oh, you little - " He laughed, rolling onto you; fingers digging into your flesh and wiggling. Your laughter was loud and genuine, Eddie grinning in amusement before just staring down at you; gently petting hair off your forehead. "Listen to me. Hey? You listenin'?"

"Yes, Eddie," you chuckled.

"Don't ever pull away from me," he told you sternly. "I need you close to me, always. I don't care what anyone ever thinks or says - you're not a bother, not to me, never to me, so, please, for my sake, stay close. I'll fuckin' fall apart without you."

Overwhelmed by emotion, his sweet words, and how they instantly settled your anxiety, you didn't respond verbally. Your hand shot up to hook around the back of his neck and pull him down - but it's not like he resisted. Eddie let his mouth descend onto yours in a heated display of passion, his hips involuntarily rolling forward to roll his hips so his bulge ground into your clothed cunt. His tongue was hot, wet, sliding against yours in a raunchy pace that made your head spin until you were dizzy.

And in exactly 436 days, Aunt Rebecca, Cousin Darlene, and any other outspoken family members sat at home, bitter, while the rest of you (and the town) celebrated yours and Eddie's union of Holy Matrimony.

requesting rules and masterlist

Stranger Things masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[sungbeam]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐒 — part two (viii – xv)

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

your sister's dead, but apparently that's not the most shocking news. maybe she wasn't killed on accident, maybe ji changmin isn't really human, and maybe the monsters were never under the bed but all around you...

▷ genre, warnings. strangers 2 reluctant allies/friends 2 lovers, slow burn, demon/supernatural creatures au, angst, action, murder mystery-ish au, forced proximity trope, suspense, gore, depictions of violence and blood, themes of death and grief, use/description of weaponry, swearing, a slightly unreliable narrator bc she has no idea what's happening, reader's sister is dead, humor bc coping mechanisms, almost drowning, drugged drinks, kidnapping, reader has hair long enough to braid sorry, beheading, mentions of skinning someone, blood drinking, the barest of proofreading and editing, ending might feel super rushed (_ _;)

▷ part word count. 25.1k words / 47.4k - read part one here

a/n: hi again 🧍🏻‍♀️ don't try to read this without the part prior. thanks bye!! don't forget to reblog. also big thanks to @justalildumpling for reading all this thru for me :') one of the biggest reasons why this exists finished.

#8—HELL'S FAVORITE ANGEL.

SOMETHING YOU NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT, funnily enough, was what the Hell did Ji Changmin keep in the trunk of his car?

At one point, you'd mused about a body. And then the musing became too real, and you swept it under the proverbial rug. Now, you had to lift the corner of the rug to let the demon crawl back out. You weren't sure if you were going to grimace or scream.

"I fear this won't just be dirty gym socks in the trunk," you muttered while trailing behind the angel and demon with a frown.

Jacob let out a laugh. "Oh, you'll see. It's a lot cooler than dirty gym socks."

That sparked your interest. "Cooler? Can Changmin even be that?"

Changmin whipped an unappreciative scowl over his shoulder at you to the melody of Jacob's second laugh within thirty seconds. "For your information," he drawled with a huff, "Hell is cooler than Heaven."

"Okay, which part of Hell are we talking about?" Jacob snorted. "Do you still have my blade?"

"Oh, yeah. The human has it."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, so I'm 'the Human' now? And what do you mean I have—" You stopped short and unsheathed Clyde from your pocket. "You mean Clyde?" You gawked at the switchblade in your hand, then at the angel who peered curiously between you, the blade, and Changmin. The lines between dots were materializing in your horizon. "Wait, so when Changmin said he won this in a poker game?—"

"Yes, that's Jacob's blade," Changmin finished with a rather smug gleam in his eyes.

Jacob tilted his head. "You named it Clyde?"

You pursed your lips slightly, your fingers curling around the weapon. "Yes."

"That's cute."

You smiled. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

Changmin made a noise of indignation and marched onward across the town square to his car.

You and Jacob fell into step beside one another as you followed after the tempestuous hellspawn.

Clyde, in your hands, seemed to warm at the presence of his original owner. You chewed on the inside of your cheek before extending the switchblade out to him. "I think this belongs to you."

Jacob shook his head. "No, no. He won it fair and square, and I see he's given it to you. It's no longer his to bargain."

"What do you mean by that?" You asked.

He chuckled, "Ah, well you see—back when he won the poker game, I was salty enough to challenge him to a sparring match to win the angel blade back from him, but we had to put it on hold for reasons."

"So what's gonna be put up for grabs from the sparring match now?"

He pointed to the trunk of Changmin's car. "You're gonna love this."

Practically jogging over to where Changmin was already stationed behind the trunk of his car, Jacob hurried you along. The lid of the trunk rose unceremoniously as you rounded the back end and you found only a long, black case spanning the width of it.

You made a face. "What is it?" You asked, silently thanking whoever was looking after you for not putting a dead body in the back.

Changmin stood between you and Jacob, seemingly reluctant to lean down and unlock the case.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of what laid inside.

There was a long, slim blade made of a metal similar in looks to obsidian, but you highly doubted Changmin would covet a mortal mineral like this. It seemed to hum, in fact, something you knew no human material could do on its own. There was something about its surface that made it wink in purples and blues.

Changmin gently pried the sword out from its molding and held it by the handle. When it was brought to the light, shadows seemed to swirl and curl around the length like creeping vines up a trellis. "The Bonnie to your Clyde," he said lowly, fondly, even as he brushed the pads of his fingers over the flat side over the foreign characters carved into the material.

"You know what an angel blade is, Yn. Now you've seen a demon blade," Jacob said with a wide grin splitting his face in awe.

You couldn't help but share that sentiment. Thus was cool as fuck. "You're telling me you had a demon blade back here this whole time?" Where was this when you'd almost gotten murdered on a motel bedroom floor?

Changmin was just as careful returning the blade back to its case as he had been taking it out. "Yes, and it's gonna stay back here."

Jacob gave a sprite-like giggle. "Wah, your audacity is appalling. It's just gonna make kicking your butt even more fun."

Well, this should be interesting.

The rules of the match were simple.

"No claws or teeth," said Jacob.

"No wings," Changmin shot back.

It looked like Jacob was about to stick his tongue out at his opponent just then. "No tail!"

From your perch at a safe distance away from the two of them on the inn porch, you called out, "You have a tail?"

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Changmin almost seemed bashful. "In my demon form," he stammered. "Okay, so no supernatural appendages."

"And no out of realm abilities," Jacob added. "Just plain and simple fisticuffs."

With a large majority of the pack members having cleared out go down to Moonstone Creak, it left the entirety of town center for a showdown between an angel and a demon. The atmosphere reminded you of an old Midwest duel with a pistol per man, and ten-paces-fire mentality. Part of you was sorry you weren't going to see their non-mortal forms, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized that was probably a good thing to keep your dreams clear at night.

You weren't sure what to expect from this.

"Best out of three?" Changmin drawled, shaking the hair out of his eyes.

Jacob brushed his own mane back. "Sure. It won't make much of a difference anyways. Count us off, would you please, Yn-ah?"

You straightened at the sound of your name. "Uhm—yeah, okay. How will each round end?"

"With Jacob's back on the ground."

Jacob's eyebrows flew up, and his smile grew teeth. "Oh, hoo! I see we like talking smack with an audience around. Okay, fine." To you, he said while pushing up the sleeves of his shirt, "Each round ends when the other yields."

You nodded warily. "Okay… ready then?"

The hairs on your arms and the back of your neck stood erect as both of them sunk into position, their facial expressions morphing into twin slates of stone. While they were different creatures, they seemed to share the same predatorial sharpness in their eyes.

You swallowed. "Set—begin."

You were certain that they both agreed to prohibit the use of "out of realm abilities," but the ground rumbled when they pounced at each other. It was fascinating, really, how well they both performed hand to hand combat. Each hit seemed to be just as calculated as the next—one predicting the other's moves.

A complicated dance played out before your eyes and you sat on the porch steps too enraptured—or too nervous—to move. Changmin twisted Jacob's arm behind his back, but the angel was swift to counter and slip out.

You had never seen so much power behind an uppercut; never seen any human force their opponent back so hard that dust kicked up when his heels dug into the ground.

You weren't sure how or when it would end—

Changmin swore as Jacob grappled onto his forearm from behind and swung the demon over his shoulder.

You thought it was over.

Changmin's feet hit the ground though, and on they went.

It was during this drawn-out match that you realized there was probably only one way to really beat an equally matched opponent. They were trying to tire the other one out.

Lost in thought, you all but missed it—the maneuver that Changmin used to suddenly have Jacob pinned to the ground, knees digging into the latter's neck.

"Yield," the demon grunted.

There was a flash of movement, and Changmin swiftly released Jacob from his hold.

He locked eyes with you. "He yielded."

"I didn't think you would let him go if he hadn't," you replied, your thumb running over the butt of the angel blade.

Jacob laid on his back with his face to the sky. "Dude, I think we're finally getting the hang of these mortal bodies."

Changmin smiled, shaking his head, "Yeah, and after how long?" He offered his friend a hand and hauled him to his feet. "I remember when you almost jumped out of a tree and forgot you couldn't just sprout wings."

"Listen," Jacob lamented with a wince, "that was one time. And you said we were racing, and my instinct was to fly."

"Born cheater."

"Born hater."

You raised your hand from the sidelines. "So, one to nil. Shall we continue, boys?"

It seemed once you'd reminded them of their purpose for roughing it in the town square, they were back to focus. This time, both were a little out of breath. You guessed that they were pretty damn close to evenly matched then—there was a balance to the pair with Jacob having grander, stronger movements, and Changmin doling out smaller, agiler maneuvers. They were two sides of the same coin, angel and demon.

The second round always generated a heightened bout of tension compared to the first. For the winner of the prior round, this could be his game point of the match; to the loser, it was his opportunity to get even.

You watched their stances steel over, the backs of their heels firmly on the earth. "Ready—begin."

It started off similar to the first time, Intl a little more calculated. With the stakes rising, it was crucial to make the right hits.

Changmin struck first—he had less to lose. An attempted double kick to the stomach ended with his foot caught in Jacob's grasp. The angel twisted; the demon tumbled, taking his foe to the dirt with him.

On they went, and at times, you couldn't even decide who had the upper hand.

From somewhere to your left, you heard the wood on the porch creak. You turned to find Kevin hopping over the railing and making his way over to you, a blue-colored bandana hanging from his fingers. He offered you a smile. "Hey."

"Hey," you said, scooting over to make room for him on the step. "I thought you were heading the search party?"

"Yeah, I still am," he replied. He wasn't even paying much attention to the duo brawling out in the square, just you. "We were about to leave when I realized that my entire party doesn't know what the pendant smelled like, so I was wondering if I could just clean your pendant off with this to carry the scent?" He gestured with the piece of fabric in his hand. "That way, you won't have to be uncomfortable with a bunch of people coming to smell your necklace," he reasoned while cupping the back of his neck.

"Oh, that's a novel idea."

From out in the dirt and sun, Changmin's eyes caught the two of you on the steps of the inn and got half his face rightly smashed into the ground. It was only a split second, but even a split second was mistake enough.

Jacob pressed him down with his entire body weight, and leaned in close with a grin, "Yield, little Hellspawn."

Changmin groaned, but yielded.

As he had done for Jacob, the angel yanked him up off the ground, spitting dirt out from his mouth and wiping it from his eyes.

"Sorry," Jacob said, not very apologetically.

Changmin grimaced as he stumbled over to the fountain at town center and dunked his face in. He furiously scrubbed the dirt off his face and rinsed his mouth. Yuck.

He pulled himself out of the water, refreshed. Brushing his dampened hair back, he blinked the water out of his eyes to see if Kevin had left yet. He hadn't, actually, and still sat next to you. Something he said made you laugh, but then he was leaving, your gaze following—Changmin noticed the slowness in Kevin's gait, how reluctant he was to leave.

"Hmm, didn't think you'd ever eat dirt again after all these years, but I guess there will always be exceptions," Jacob mused. He stretched out his calves and arms, keeping his muscles alive and perked up for the final round. It was one to one after all.

"I was distracted," Changmin said simply. "He wasn't supposed to be here."

Jacob hadn't been blind to Kevin's presence at the inn steps either. His smile turned sly. "Now why would Kevin being here distract you? Curious, curious."

Changmin raised the collar of his shirt up to dry his face as the two of them strolled back to their sparring ground.

You were currently sending him a look with your head tilted to the side in question. Did he dump you in the fountain? You seemed to ask.

He shook his head, making a motion with his hands about how Jacob won the match. To his opponent, he murmured, "She's getting attached."

"And that's a bad thing?"

His automatic thought was no, you getting attached to these people, this place, was not a bad thing. He remembered your state of being back at the college town and how alone you'd been there. Here, it seemed you had people who would care about you, at least. With so much time spent in the mortal realm, he'd learned just how much humans needed each other.

But then again, you and he had a job to finish. "We have to leave soon."

Jacob adjusted the sleeves of his shirt once again since they fell at some point during the match. "Doesn't mean you can't come back."

He wasn't wrong. You seemed, upon reflection, content here. He passed you a glance, but you took that as a signal to start the match.

Changmin and Jacob dropped into their respective stances and charged when given the word.

As soon as Jacob's back hit the ground, you knew it was over. The last round drew out much longer than the preceding ones, and though they both fought fiercely, it was done with exhaustion sewn between each huffing breath, each reeled punch. A fight like this wasn't worth wasting all that energy on, anyway.

"Bonnie stays with you for now, I suppose," Jacob chuckled as the two of them clasped each other's hands in a show of good sportsmanship. Sweat dripped from their bangs and down the slopes of their noses and sculpted jawlines.

Changmin shook his head, "The sword is permanently going to be called Bonnie, isn't it?"

"You did this to yourself, you know." You walked over to them, hands propped on either side of your hips.

"I did," he agreed with his lips pressed together. The dimple in his cheek still threw you off your rocker. "Well, since I have so much dirt in my hair now—"

"Hey! I have to go switch shirts because of you!" Jacob chortled, motioning to his own white T-shirt stained a dusty brown on his back and front, and more on his pants.

"Ah, you need to shower anyways," Changmin quipped back.

Jacob made a waving gesture over his shoulder as he headed back toward the pack house to take that shower. "Yeah, yeah. I can say the same thing about you, Ji."

While Jacob went in his own direction, you and Changmin trudged back over to the inn so he could clean himself up. You wondered how much he really did need to get cleaned up, since you noted no blood or bruises, but the latter wouldn't show up for another couple hours if there were any.

Wait, was that how demon bruising worked—?

"I can hear your mind racing, Yn," Changmin drawled as he hiked up the stairs next to you.

"Not literally, right? I just have to make sure," you added on at the end when he looked over at you.

He absentmindedly scratched his jaw. "No, not literally. You're just easy to read."

Your expression flattened. "Oh."

"Hm."

"Okay, well you owe me some answers." You amended, folding your arms over your chest, "A lot of them, actually."

The sigh that fell from his lips was a familiar one, and he turned his head over his shoulder to check that there wasn't anyone else around. There wouldn't have been since it was only the two of you staying here, and the auntie who ran the inn was somewhere downstairs. "Let's talk in my room."

"Your room?" You squabbled incredulously. To you, Changmin seemed like the type to like his privacy, especially when he got a room to himself. But you questioned no further and he made no additional comments as the two of you entered the space that was his bedroom.

The room itself was similar to yours, but flipped. The wall on the far left was his room shared with yours, his bed pressed up against the far right. The shutters in here remained closed and angled upward so the sunlight outside could peer through, but only at a faint glow. It was enough to get around, at least. The space was spotless, bed unslept in. The sheets were still tucked tightly into place and his backpack sat in the armchair in the corner.

"You didn't sleep?" You voiced aloud, shutting the door behind you while he made a beeline for his backpack. You knew sleep wasn't a demonic necessity, but even so, sleeping for leisure was still something he indulged in, right?

He dug through its contents for a spare shirt and pants to change into after his shower. "No, I went out last night."

Your head perked up from where you'd settled on the very foot of the bed. "Where?"

"The woods—where else?" As if that were obvious. "The circles of Hell are pretty much dark all the time anyway," he said while passing by you to get to the bathroom door. He dumped his clothing items onto the counter and you heard him rip the shower curtain open. "It was—it was just, you know, like exercise and shit. Nothing important."

You opened your mouth to say something, then closed it, losing your train of thought.

The bathroom door shut, but you could still hear the stream of water running behind it.

Did living like this make him uncomfortable? Was he used to moving from place to place, never making a permanent home?

"Changmin." You raised your voice so he could hear you from through the door and over the water.

A faint, "Yeah?"

"What you said, back there during the advising board meeting, when they asked if there was more of this pendant—" You fingered the stone again. There was no one here to gawk at it. "—you said that this wasn't the only one."

For a moment, he didn't answer, and you thought that perhaps he didn't hear you.

Then, "Your sister, she—she had the other half."

You peered down at the stone in your hand and watched its blood ruby surface pulse. If you were careful, you could just barely make out the duller edge versus the sharper one, no doubt where Sena's half would have been. It hadn't even occurred to you that this was only half the necklace, like a locket.

You asked him the next reasonable question. "Where is it?" It hadn't been in the lockbox, nor had it been on her person when she died or at the funeral. Did he have it?

"I'm not sure actually."

Those four words settled heavily over your shoulders. He didn't know. There had to be some connection with how she died then. Someone took it off her body—

"Is that—" The bathroom door opened. You hadn't even realized he finished and was dressed, "—what we're looking for then? You said we have to go to one of her safe houses to find the thing she messaged you about. Is that the thing? Is whoever was following us earlier—were they after my half?"

Changmin leaned against the bathroom door's frame, freshly rinsed off of dirt and grime and sweat, a new set of clothes on his body. He crossed his arms over his chest with a pensive gaze. "They probably were after your half, yes. I didn't really know what she wanted me to find, to be honest. I thought you would have her half, too, but when you only said you found one pendant in the lockbox, my mind shifted into believing she stashed hers in a safehouse somewhere."

That must have been why he reacted like he did that day… how he wanted you to be sure there wasn't anything else in the box.

He continued, "Sena was the one who poured over ancient texts and researched about this. I gave her context about supernatural things and was the muscle where need arose. She knew everything, and now I'm kind of kicking myself in the head for that." He massaged his jaw. "She mentioned something about an activator of sorts. I can't remember all the details, but it would be in one of her notebooks."

"We just have to find them," you murmured.

You and he locked eyes, and he nodded, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "Yeah."

You fiddled with a spare thread from the duvet cover by your hand. "And about the demons—you know, the lower level ones who have been popping up everywhere?"

"Those are easier beings to summon," he breathed out. "Anyone can summon them through a ritual and they'll do your bidding for the price of a sacrifice. Those are usually the ones people are calling upon with their… Ouija boards and pentagrams and shit." They seemed a lot more vicious than the ones that came with pentagrams, but you couldn't speak from experience.

You shuddered at the memory of those teeth engraved into your mind. If anyone could summon those kinds of demons, then it wouldn't necessarily be a demonic entity after your pendant. More details to consider, you supposed.

A thought occurred to him and you saw it come to the forefront of his mind like a lightbulb turning on. He disappeared back into the bathroom and returned with a little paper cup in his hand. He stirred something inside it with a wooden popsicle stick used for coffee and crafts.

"I, uhm…" He stepped toward you, apprehensively, with the paper cup. "I consulted the resident medic for some of that salve the wolves use for bruising. She didn't have anything on hand for humans, but she told me what herbs I could grab from the woods."

When he was close enough, you could see the greenish paste at the bottom of the cup. Your eyes widened in surprise, uncertain of what to do with all this information.

He stood in front of you, teeth biting down on his lip. "Can I see your neck?" His voice quieted at the end, and he cleared his throat.

You could feel your heart stutter in your chest. "Uhm, yeah. Sure." You carefully swept any stray pieces of hair from your neck and to the other side of your shoulder, tilting your head slightly to give him access to it. You didn't know exactly what this was going to do, but for some reason you trusted that it would help.

He took some of the paste onto the end of the popsicle stick and carefully dabbed it over the places where the demon teeth marks vandalized your skin. It was still purplish in some areas, darkened where the teeth had sunken in the deepest to pierce your esophagus. Shallower places had already begun to sallow, but clearly, it wasn't at a supernatural creature's pace by any means.

When he was finished he stepped back to inspect his handiwork. Neither of you had yet to say anything.

You let your hair fall back into place. "Thanks."

You couldn't read him again; you wish you could. "Yeah," he said.

#9—OUT OF REALM.

THE NIGHTS WERE WARM here in the little town of Moonstone Creak. The air was comfortable and settled so comfortably on your skin. No gooseflesh or raised hair or anything.

You sat on the front steps of the pack house to the sound of music being played in the square before you, and wondered if Sena had ever come across something like this in her travels. If she and Changmin had been business partners, so to speak, she must have come across a myriad of supernatural and divine beings.

A couple days had passed since you and Changmin first got here, and the wolves unfortunately were unable to find the source of your pursuers in the white car, who bore the same scent as the pendant around your neck. You almost forgot that was why you both were here in the first place.

A blur of fur flew past you as two wolf pups scrambled down the steps, one chasing the other's tail, in a game of tag. Seeing mothers hold their infant children between jaws of teeth was becoming less and less of a shock, and you found yourself smiling at the kids playing around in the square, beneath the hanging lanterns.

"This seat taken?" You glanced up to meet Kevin's boyish smile, a white dress shirt and board shorts hanging from his frame.

You welcomed him next to you with a smile. "Busy day?" You asked after having not seen him since he left breakfast this morning.

He gave a sigh, leaning back onto his palms. "A little, but it's always nice to take some of the younger ones out into the woods. It's how they build community and stamina."

The two of you peered out at the town center as those dancing around Lily and Sangyeon with their guitar and keyboard cheered to the end of the song. It was merry and vibrant and full of life; no wonder they lived in this pocket of the world—it was to preserve their serenity, and perhaps even their ways of life.

Kevin turned his head toward you. "What about you? How have you filled your day today?"

"Well," you started with a chuckle, "Haknyeon and Eric and I went down to the creak and they taught me how to snatch a fish out of the water with my bare hands."

His grin widened. "Oh, I see. So dinner tonight was on you?"

You snorted, shaking your head. "I would like to take credit for that massive hunk of salmon, but I could barely get my fish out of the water."

"It comes with practice," he assured you, eyes turned up in amusement. "Plus, Haknyeon and Eric have a bit of an advantage over you."

Ah, that was right. Wolf shifters were, for lack of better phrasing, “built different,” as you liked to say. They were stronger, faster, and more alert, with their five senses heightened to a scale you couldn’t put into words. You imagined that shifting between human and wolf forms took a lot of strength and energy, so it made sense in a way. There were also a few humans living among the wolves here besides yourself who either married into the community or simply moved in after visiting or doing business with the town’s inhabitants. You couldn’t blame them for that either. (A part of you, stewing in the back of your mind, humored the possibility of moving here yourself. It seemed almost too good to be true.)

You and Kevin watched as Jacob joined the fray with Eric in tow, the two of them starting a game of “Simon Says.” A thought occurred to you while you observed the angel; there was something distinctly absent from his silhouette. “Kevin?”

“Hm?”

“Why doesn’t Jacob have wings if he’s an angel?” For the entirety of your stay since you met him, he lacked the white-feathered wings characteristic of an angel. Of course, there was also a lack of halo, too, but you thought Jacob’s radiating warm personality was enough to make up for that loss.

Kevin straightened. “Oh, that’s an easy one—he’s in an energy-conserving form. That’s why you don’t see Changmin with the demon horns or tail and stuff. This human form is the base level of this realm, so it’s the most energy-conserving for them while they’re away from their native realms.”

You didn’t expect that your question would lead to a conversation about the mechanisms of the universe. You blinked, then shot him a look you expected told him exactly how you were feeling. “What?”

“Realms,” he repeated with a chuckle. “We have the mortal plane, which is where we are now; the Heavenly sphere, which is where the hierarchy of angels are; and then the circles of Hell.” He nudged your knee with the back of his hand and gestured for you both to move to the bottom step of the porch so he could draw you a diagram in the dirt. Kevin found a small rock lying by his feet and diagrammed the three realms.

“It looks like that,” he said once he was done. “Think of each as not levels, but more like separate rooms.”

You tilted your head at the drawing. “So Heaven and Hell really are just above and below us?”

“Not… exactly?” He winced. “More like pocket dimensions. That’s why energy conservation works how it does when it comes to bodily forms, rather than how humans usually explain it in physics.”

“Don’t expect me to know anything about that.”

He grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure this’ll make a lot more sense—there’s a whole lot less math involved. But then again, maybe human physics and this concept is more similar than I’m making it out to be.”

You lifted your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I’d confirm or deny, but science was never really my area of expertise.”

“And what’s that? Your area of expertise,” he asked, dropping the rock back onto the ground and resting his cheek against his fist to turn his attention to you.

“Me? Well, I’m in finance and accounting.” You made a face at how human that sounded compared to the subject of your current conversation. Accounting did not measure up to talks of energy conservation and supernatural pocket dimensions. “It was just… kind of the practical route that I had in mind when going into college.” Practicality had driven so many of your decisions throughout your life. It was for the sake of keeping yours and your sister’s heads above water. Sena had never been afraid of chasing her dreams though, so you figured that you would support her and let her go out to do what she wished. But by the looks of where that got her, should you have done that? You didn’t really know.

Kevin bobbed his head. “Practicality is good,” he said softly. “You know, we just lost one of our bookkeepers in town. We could always use another.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest at the sentiment and you couldn’t ignore the tenderness of his gaze, but maybe you were making things up. Your heart pitter-pattered and the pendant at your collar echoed it. “Good to know.”

His lips curled into that pretty smile of his, and he sat up and waved his hand around. “But, uhm, going back to what we were talking about earlier… because Jacob and Changmin are both far away from their home realm, they need to exert a lot more energy to sustain a form that is less supported in this realm.”

You squinted, pursing your lips. “So like… a supernatural version of home court advantage?”

Now it was Kevin’s turn to pause. “Home court ad—I’m guessing that’s a human thing.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to worry about it,” you dismissed. To be fair, your high school had drilled the concept of home court advantage into your head in order to encourage more people to come to sports outings when your school was hosting. The phrase lived in your head because it was etched there. “Ah, so wait—if, let’s say, Changmin went to the Heavenly sphere…”

“If he had any reason to go there,” Kevin said with an ill-concealed grimace, “pray for him.”

That reply did nothing to reassure you. You swallowed, trying to imagine what would happen should Changmin find himself in Heaven, and if Jacob went to Hell. If this was their supported form one realm away… then what would it be two realms away?

“But don’t worry too much about it,” he added swiftly, “demons don’t usually find a reason to go to the sphere. And if there is a reason, they usually don’t stay long enough to find out how much energy it takes to maintain out of realm bodies.”

“Out of realm—I’ve heard that saying before when Changmin and Jacob were sparring a couple days ago. They both agreed not to use any out of realm abilities.”

He hummed cheerily, nodding. “Mmh, yeah. Out of realm usually just refers to the mortal plane here, and any form or abilities that aren’t ‘supported’ like flight or magic—”

“Magic?”

“That’s just what I’ve heard,” Kevin huffed a laugh. “I hope you never find yourself in any of the circles of Hell, Yn, but if you’re ever down there with Changmin, then ask him to turn a rock into a diamond necklace.”

Your eyebrows flew up to your hairline. “So you’re telling me he’s an alchemist?” You hadn’t even thought about what other things your demon counterpart was capable of besides attacking people and brooding.

“Not quite—”

“Alchemy isn’t really the word I would use to describe it,” came Changmin’s drawl from behind you.

You nearly fell backwards off the stairs if it hadn’t been for Kevin’s arm shooting out to grab your wrist. Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you shot Changmin a dirty look. “You—” you sputtered, trying to get your bearings, “—need to stop doing that!”

He quirked a single brow upward, quietly shoving another forkful of blueberry pancake into his mouth. “Not my fault you didn’t hear me coming.”

“I smelled you coming,” Kevin laughed, the sound brightening at the sound of your snort.

Changmin’s expression flattened. He swallowed his bite and impaled another. “Can I talk to you?” He directed the question to you, nudging you with the toe of his boot.

You and Kevin exchanged glances, but you hoisted yourself up from the porch steps, dusting any dirt from your pants. “Uh, sure. What about? Also, where did you get pancakes from at nine o’clock at night?”

The demon motioned with his chin to start walking in the direction of the inn across the square. “Lily had leftovers,” he said simply.

You hmphed and let it slide.

Since Changmin revealed to you that there was a second half to your pendant, you hadn't shared another long discussion pertaining to the real reason you were on this quest. He would often linger at the edges of crowds here, keeping to himself and the limited number of people he knew. He seemed to avoid interacting with most, and you wondered why that was. He wasn't… that scared of social interaction, was he?

Changmin leaned up against the wall of the inn and you perched across from him with your back to the porch railing. "I've been thinking."

"Is this a good thing?"

You raised your hands in innocence as he scowled at you. He sawed a chunk of pancake in half with the side of his fork before impaling it with the tines. "Sometimes you sound exactly like your sister."

"Sarcasm runs in Ln family blood, what can I say?" You mused. "So you were thinking."

He hummed. "Mmh. Well, I was thinking that—" he cleared his throat, his fingers brushing over his throat. "We've been here for a couple of days and nothing has seemed to crop up. There hasn't really been any immediate dangers and—" He wrinkled his nose, apparently annoyed at something.

You sobered a little. "What is it?"

He knocked the back of his fork against his skull. "You look—happy here. And safe, of course. You're safe here," he finally pushed out. His jaw worked as he speared his last piece of pancake and shoved it into his mouth.

Your eyes widened slightly. You didn't realize he was monitoring your mood like that, but you could agree that you definitely felt safer here than out there. "I… agree?" However, you still didn't know what direction this conversation was heading.

Changmin sighed, his brows creasing in frustration. "Yes, you agree. So, I think the best decision is that I leave you here and I go out and find the second half of the necklace."

What.

"Changmin, you—"

"Just hear me out," he said. "We've already been attacked twice because of that thing, and if we step foot out of these bounds, it's liable to happen again." He wrestled down a swallow. "You're just—better off here."

You idly rubbed the pendant over the fabric of your shirt. "You're serious."

"When am I not serious?"

Did he not trust his ability to keep an eye on you? Or no, it had to be you that was the problem. If you could fend for yourself, he wouldn't have to worry about being attacked all the damn time. His logic had grounds, and though you could breathe easy here, for some reason, letting him go after the second half didn't sit right with you.

You chewed on your bottom lip. "I think we should—"

The world stilled, the music screeched to a halt. The night air filled with the chilling sound of a howl.

You instinctively leaned away from the railing and came to stand beside Changmin, scanning the immediate premises for danger. The hair on your skin stood on its end, heartbeat quickening—

From the far end of town by the conventional entrance, a dark-furred wolf, followed by two others, charged in. You recognized the one at the front as Juyeon from the advising board.

The town center cleared; Lily was already corralling little ones into the pack house, her head on a swivel between Sangyeon and the wolves barreling back into town from the night watch. Kevin and Jacob were swift to join them.

Changmin's expression turned troubled. "Stay here."

"I'll hold your plate," you murmured, taking the plate and fork from him and backing up toward the entrance to the inn. The auntie who owned the establishment appeared at your side, ushering you in so she could lock the doors. This had to be some kind of protocol.

You set the plate and fork on the table in the parlor and pressed your face up against the window to watch the congregation at the town's entrance. From this distance, your sight wasn't nearly good enough to make out their individual expressions, but it didn't look good.

"Auntie?" You asked, fumbling for Clyde in your pocket. "What's going on?"

She peered over from where she was twisting lanterns to the off position. "Intruders," she answered.

You leapt out of your skin when the inn's front door handle was forced open.

Changmin and Kevin's heads whirled about the room until they found you. "We're leaving," Changmin said, already charging toward the stairs. "Pack your things; Kevin's leading us out."

You scrambled after him in the dark. "Changmin. Changmin what the fuck is happening—"

He threw a stern look over his shoulder. "I'll explain in the car," he said before disappearing into his room.

You tossed your hands up into the air and did as you were told. There wasn't much to pack for yourself. You tossed your clothes haphazardly into your backpack, located any other spare items you left in the room, checked the bathroom for anything else. By the time you were done, Changmin was slapping his palm against the door jamb and hustling you out.

Kevin waited for you both in the lobby, his wolf form anxiously pacing the area like he was itching to get out of here. You could hear snarling and hissing and crashes and crackling from outside the door. What were you going to see when you stepped foot out of the inn?

"Let's go," Changmin said, nodding to Kevin, and shoving out into the night.

You lost your breath.

The pack house was on fire.

Wolves brawled against demonic forms, teeth gnashing around necks and snapping them. Black and red blood stained the dirt—they had come for the pendent. And they would take the pack down with them if they had to.

"Yn." A hand hauled you down the porch steps to round the building to Changmin's car.

Horror and panic and everything in between poured into you as you threw yourself into the front seat of Changmin's car. Your eyes, wide as saucers, could not leave the sight of violence happening before you.

You blinked—dark, whirling masses in the sky appeared out of thin air, and out of them spilled more and more creatures of Hell. Their jaws of daggers made you sick to your stomach; what was this? A small army?

Changmin swerved the car after Kevin, who was leading you not through the fray, but behind the inn house and straight into the woods.

You twisted in your seat. "Are they going to be okay?" You whispered, hands shaking as they dropped onto the headrest.

He was quiet for a beat. "They have Jacob."

But was one divine being enough? There were so many of them, oh fuck. And Jacob wasn't at full power, was he?

"They'll—they'll leave when they sense we're no longer there," he added quietly. "I hope."

You hugged the back of your seat, murmuring prayer after prayer. Please be safe. Please be okay.

The road Kevin led you both down was twisted and hazardous with winding paths that sent your shoulder careening into the side of the car and bumps that jostled your organs. Changmin somehow was able to keep up with Kevin without the headlights on and you didn't have the mind to question it.

You sunk into your seat to face forward, eyes glued to the side view mirror. You could see the glow of flames from here, could see how far up into the sky the fire went.

Oh god, this is all your fault. You brought trouble right to their doorstep. It's all your fault. All your—

The car broke out of the woods and into a small clearing with a worn path that led up to another road that hugged the side of a small mountain. This was where Kevin stopped.

Changmin nodded to Kevin in the front windshield.

You jammed your finger against the button in your door to roll your window down. "Kevin," you said.

The wolf trotted over to your door, and you stuck your hand out to meet his head. Your chest ached. "I'm sorry."

He couldn't communicate with you in a way you understood, but you liked to think you got good at reading his eyes. They seemed conflicted—the way they glistened like moonlight with the silver lining the edges, but burned like molten gold when he turned to motion toward the smoke in the distance.

"I'm sorry," you repeated. "Stay safe."

With one last look, he took off back toward his home.

Changmin passed you a glance, eyes softening at the corners, then turned the car up onto the road.

You pulled yourself back into the car and rolled the window up once you couldn't see Kevin's form anymore. Your eyes stared at the front console, brain muddled—you focused on taking deep breaths.

"Are they going to be okay?" You asked again. He had given you an answer before, but—fucking Hell, you were going to be sick—

"They'll be okay," he assured you. One of his hands lifted from the steering wheel and rested on your shoulder.

You broke down, face burying itself into your palms. Sobbing filled the silence of the car with the weight of lead. First, there was Sena. Then, it was whatever the fuck you were doing on this ridiculous task. Now… now, you'd gotten bystanders involved. Good people. They were good people.

You couldn't lose anyone else.

One person was more than you could take—more than you thought you could take.

You lifted your head, dragging the back of your hand across your eyes, your palm over your cheeks. "I want to go home," you whimpered as the back of your head hit the headrest. He had spoken too soon—you weren’t safe anywhere.

His hand was still on your shoulder and it slid down to your forearm, his fingers curling around you in a tentative form of comfort. "I know, sweetheart," he murmured. "I know."

#10—HOLD YOUR BREATH.

"PULL OVER, CHANGMIN."

The demon's head whipped over to you for a second, taking his eyes off the barren highway. There wasn't anyone else around this early in the morning, especially on this road that hugged the coast rather than a more straightforward freeway like the main interstate. "What?"

"Pull over," you repeated.

"We're almost there."

"Please."

He stopped the car.

He just barely put the vehicle in park before you were clambering out and headed in who-knew-what direction.

You heard the driver's side door slam shut as he followed after you. "Yn. Yn, where the Hell do you think you're going?"

"I don't know," you said, wrapping your arms around you. The salty sea air brushed past your clothes and your skin, and it felt nothing like the warmth from Moonstone Creak. The sky before dawn was a white-ish purple with clouds blanketing out where one might see the sun creeping up to its perch. The two of you were on the road for nearly five hours, and you didn't sleep a wink of it.

He caught up with you and grabbed your shoulders to face him. "I know that was a lot of shit to take, but we can't be out here."

"I can't do this anymore," you told him. "I can't risk any more lives, I can't risk mine or yours—I don't want to end up dead in a ditch. I—" You yanked the necklace around your collar and unclasped the chain, the weight falling from your sternum feeling more akin to an empty cage than a freed one.

You ripped out of his hold and stormed across the highway.

"No, no, no—YN. Yn, let's talk about this—"

You were getting rid of all your problems. If they wanted the pendant, then they could fucking have it—

Changmin appeared in front of you, expression stormy. "Don't do it."

"Get out of my way."

"If you lose that necklace, Yn—"

"THEN WHAT?" You practically growled in his face. Your hand fisted around the stone in your palm, and you waved it around wildly. "If I lose it, then what? Changmin, I don't even know what the fuck it does. You haven't told me why it's important. My sister sure as Hell didn't tell me jackshit. What, in the name of all things fucking holy, is so important about this red rock! Why am I risking my life for it?"

Changmin balked and his lips pressed firmly against each other.

Disappointment churned in your stomach. "Why won't you tell me?" You asked him, dropping the stone to hold it by the chain.

His eyes flickered to your movements. "I'll tell you, but just—we can't talk about it out here." He turned slightly and pointed out a building in the distance. It was a lighthouse, and it was erected on the edge of a rocky outcropping that jutted out from the coastline. White-foamed waves crashed against its shore like drums. "You see that? That's the safehouse."

That was the safehouse? "She bought a lighthouse?" Oh dear god, she had not listened to any of your advice about investing.

"Yes," he said. "Don't ask me why. I don't know the answer to that one, but if we can just get over there…"

You eyed the building. It was a standard cylindrical-shaped tower painted in white with a large glass cap at the top, housing a spotlight to guide ships home. A second, much smaller building the size of a shed was attached to the base, and you could just make out what looked like a chimney on top. Against your boring financial advice, Sena had been a romantic at heart. You wouldn't be surprised if one of her other safehouses was an idyllic cottage in a meadow.

You swallowed your pride, reaching up to reluctantly clasp the necklace back around your throat. Changmin visibly relaxed. "Fine."

The two of you made to turn around and head back to the car, but something in the water below caught your eye. It was a long way down from where you stood, and the jagged, dark cliff face didn't make the drop any more appetizing. The water was a deep, murky shade of gray-blue that screamed a cold, watery grave. You squinted down at the water in search of the glint of something you thought you saw.

Changmin glanced back at you. "What is it?"

When you came up empty-handed, you followed him to the car. "Nothing. I think I'm just tired."

The car was still quiet when Changmin pulled up outside the lighthouse. The building sat on the lower end of the outcropping, surrounded by a field of overgrown grass watered by sea spray and rain. The thrashing of waves was much louder here, like rolling thunder, and they threw themselves up against the shore bedecked in dark rocks, eroded into rough edges to make them appear akin to teeth.

You grabbed your backpack from the backseat as usual, eyes peering up at the lighthouse and trying to drink it in.

So… this was where she had been hiding. At least, some of the time she was away.

Your fingers drummed along your bag strap. What were you going to find inside? The last time you opened one of Sena's locked things, you ended up on the run.

Changmin's hair whipped up in the wind. "I think I can pick the lock," he said.

"She didn't give you a key?"

He began making his way to the front door. "I've only been here a couple of times, but only when she was around. Sena only had one—copy." When he jiggled the doorknob and it drifted open, he stiffened.

You frowned. "Awful lock."

"It wasn't locked," he said. He put his arm out in front of you. "Stay behind me."

That feeling you knew all-too-well—like a spider crawling down your spine—returned. You shoved your hand into the pocket that held your angel blade, slowly creeping in after Changmin.

The first floor of the lighthouse looked as if a tornado blew right through it. The couch cushions were torn off their perches, the rug was thrown aside, the bookshelf devoid of its occupants who lied scattered about the room. You took it all in with wide eyes, gently trekking through on the balls of your feet like you were going through a minefield. The connecting shed was for the kitchen and dining needs, and that too did not look much better. All of the porcelain plates and cups and silverware were in pieces on the stone floors.

Changmin blew out a breath, hands burying into his hair as his eyes wildly searched the area for any signs of who had been here for you. "Shit."

You made your way over to the couch-side table where a small lamp was undressed of its shade and a picture frame left cracked and picture-less. But you recognized the shoddy paint job on the frame from your childhood when you'd painted it in an arts and crafts class in first grade. You felt the picture's loss like an empty void. Whoever had been here took it with them.

Failure burned through you like hot acid. It made your body scream as it incinerated you from the inside out; you would never figure out what your sister was doing or what was going on. Not at this rate.

You set the empty frame down and brushed past Changmin to the front door.

"Yn—"

"I need some air." You didn't wait for his response.

The sun was making a gradual ascent now, turning the sky above you a more aggressive shade of lilac and egg yolk. You rounded the circumference of the lighthouse until you were descending the hill at its back down to the dock. It was a short, wooden platform where you could sit down and breathe in ocean air for a moment.

You lowered yourself by the edge with your feet crossed beneath you upon the sun-soaked planks. In the distance, you heard the cry of a seagull as it made landfall.

For all of the noise the waves made, it was awfully quiet. Disturbingly quiet.

It didn't occur to you right away. You were more focused on the hot tears trailing down your cheeks and the pressure building up in your head to start a killer headache. Goddamn, what were you doing? What did you think you were going to accomplish?

You yanked the chain out of your shirt collar with an angry frown marring your face. "Stupid fucking necklace." This was all its fault—and there you were, blaming an inanimate object for all your troubles.

"What if I just tossed you into the ocean?" You gazed out at the infinite horizon. It would be so easy. Would it not solve all of your problems?

You sighed, rubbing the space between your eyes with the pads of your fingers.

For a moment, you soaked in the air around you, the warmth of the boards beneath your thighs, and the sweet song drifting through your ear. What a beautiful sound the ocean made… it crooned something melancholy to you, luring you closer toward it in wonder. How sad the ocean was… its loneliness resonated with yours… it sang it so in the song.

You were enchanted by it, scooting closer to the edge of the pier to see if you could figure out the source of the serenade.

It's the ocean, something told you. It wasn't coming from a person or a thing, but the entire body of water before you. It heard your pain, could feel your suffering… it wanted you to come into its arms so it could lovingly embrace you.

"Yn. YN? YN!"

The song coaxed you closer to the edge. Almost there, love.

Your legs dangled over the side, eyes glazed over and glassy. The dark waters beneath you were so lovely and lonely. You could keep it company, couldn't you?

"YN, SNAP OUT OF IT."

Don't listen to him. He doesn't understand your pain. But I do.

You murmured. "Who does?"

Come a little closer, pet. I can make the hurt go away.

Thunderous stomps down the hill became muffled in the background. "YN. LN. WAKE. UP."

For a moment, your eyes shuddered. His voice was familiar. You turned your head back to look, and saw Changmin charging toward you with his eyes wide and—

Look at me, the voice demanded.

Something wrapped around your ankle, and you had little time to understand what was happening before you were dragged straight under.

As soon as the water swallowed you, the cold seeped into your bones and snapped you out of whatever trance you had been put under. Panic seized your chest, and you thrashed around, holding your breath, in a desperate attempt to free whatever had your leg trapped in a death grip.

You screamed silently, the surface getting farther and farther away.

You desperately kicked out with your other leg, the sole of your shoes scratching and scraping and chipping away at the hand holding you. You fumbled in your pants pocket, then brandished Clyde. With as much might as you could muster, you stabbed at the appendage wrapped around your ankle.

When you made contact, it retreated instantly. There was a trail of something dark down below, but you couldn't quite tell between it and the bottom of the water.

Running out of air fast, you desperately pumped your legs and clawed your way up towards Changmin swimming toward you. He extended his hand to you, his eyes flickering between you and something behind you—you didn't have time to think about what it was.

Your fingers made purchase with his, and you grabbed onto each other with a mutual vice. He hauled you up to the surface before him, and you gasped for breath, arms bracing onto the wooden deck.

You hacked out sea water and your throat felt like it was closing in on itself. It burned like Hell.

Heart pounding, you lifted your head to find Changmin and—wait. Where was Changmin?

"Changmin?" You whipped your head around, eyes going down into the water. "Fuck."

You gagged from sea water again. Could you stomach going back down? You had to, for fuck's sake. Your demon was down there.

You wielded Clyde tightly in your other hand, took a deep breath, then went back under.

You could now make out the figure who you assumed held you captive earlier. He had Changmin wrapped tightly in his grasp, the demon thrashing in the half-man half-fish's arms. You knew you were probably staring death in the eye, but you continued swimming straight for them.

You and the fish man made eye contact, and he grinned menacingly, the smile tinged with a set of sharp canines. In any other circumstance, you would have thought him beautiful.

Changmin saw you coming and his eyes widened. I just saved you. What are you doing back here?

But he realized something key with your presence reappearing. Changmin's jaw clenched—you didn't realize what was happening until he threw his arms back behind him to grab ahold of his captor's head. His fingers had grown darkened claws, razor sharp, and he gouged his thumbs into the eyes of the siren.

If you could hear screams underwater, it would have rattled your bones.

You watched, frozen, as the siren attempted to thrash around an escape Changmin, but your demon counterpart had too good of a grip on his skull.

You knew what the dark trail was now, and there was so much of it pooling in the water.

When Changmin was satisfied with the limpness of his captor's body, he shook his hands out and the claws disappeared. You didn't know where they went—didn't care, only that they existed in the first place.

He urgently swam up toward you as both of your supply of oxygen dwindled with each passing second.

When you broke the surface a second time, you clung to one of the posts of the dock, body shaking from the icy cold and the chill of witnessing a piece of Changmin's violence first-hand.

Changmin gasped for air and threw his upper body onto the face of the dock, his muscles trembling as he struggled to pull himself out of the water. Both of you were soaked to the bone, clothing and shoes heavy with seawater.

You stuck Clyde into the wood of the pier above you to anchor yourself onto the boards.

The two of you laid there on the dock to regain your breath and strength. Despite Changmin's demon-ness, he was still a creature of land, not water.

The sun had managed to climb up into the sky now, its hot rays piercing through clouds, and yet, all you could feel was the wind.

"You should have stayed…" he managed to say, "...up here."

You rolled into your stomach and braced your palms onto the wood to push yourself up. "You're stupid if you thought I was gonna—let you die." You glanced over at him, eyes finding his fingers—they looked normal again, save for the dark red rimmed beneath his fingernails.

You shuddered.

Changmin squinted his eyes open at you. "Don't ever… do that again."

You could only nod.

For a moment, only the waves and gulls existed between you. You hunched over your legs, dry heaving any more of that stinging salt from your mouth and eyes. Your brain kept rewinding the struggle over and over, repeating the look of pure survival instinct in Changmin's eyes as he mercilessly drove his clawed fingers into the creature's eye sockets.

You heard him stir again, and you asked hoarsely, "How much energy did it take to summon claws?"

After a beat, he replied, "Let's just say, I'm rusty and winded."

You turned your body over so you could face him. His white shirt was drenched all the way through, but you could still see the dark red seeping in places over his ribcage. "Oh my god, you're bleeding."

You reached out to examine him, but he slapped your hand away. "I'm fine," he insisted.

"Let me see," you argued, fixing him with a hard look. When he relented, you gently peeled the fabric away from his skin.

His skin, pale and wet, looked like a watercolor canvas of blues, reds, and purples. Bruises bloomed in splotches and blood made up the rest. You delicately ran your fingers over the bruised areas, hearing him suck in a breath at your touch.

"Does it hurt?"

"I'll survive."

"Don't be an ass. Does it hurt?"

He lifted his arm over his eyes. The scratches there were still an angry red. "...Yes."

"Did he get you anywhere else?"

"No."

Relief soared through you—or, the dispelling of fear from your body—and you racked your brain for a solution. There was nothing you could use down here to heal him to get him up to the…

Who were you kidding? There was something.

You wrenched Clyde out from the board you'd impaled him into and held the sharp end against the plush pad of your thumb. How much human blood did he need to get back on his feet? How much would get him up to the lighthouse, and how much could heal him fully like at the motel—?

He lifted his arm off his eyes. "Don't even think about it."

You met his eyes. "And why not?" Once, a long time ago, you managed to slice your finger open from cutting a lime in your palm rather than against a board like a normal person. If you used just enough force to break the skin—

"I'm not—drinking your blood—" He grunted while attempting to sit up. The stubborn bastard fell onto his back, face screwed up in pain and frustration.

You leaned over him to block the sun from his eyes. "You were saying?"

He narrowed his eyes up at you. "I'm not drinking your blood."

"You've done it before."

"That's because you were dying. You're not dying now, and neither am I."

"Your ribs are broken, aren't they?"

He huffed air out of his nostrils. "Yeah."

Returning to your original plan, you pressed the blade back against your thumb, wincing slightly as it split your skin. Dark red welled into a little pocket, before breaking form and dribbling down your finger. You moved it in front of his mouth, waiting to feel his tongue against it.

Reluctantly, he stuck his tongue out and licked a neat stripe up the length of your finger, all while giving you a stink eye. This isn't my choice, he seemed to say. It didn't matter though. He knew that he needed this, even just a little bit, to get up to the lighthouse and the car.

There could be more sirens, after all.

You pulled your finger away already feeling your skin cells knit themselves back together from his saliva. "Better?"

He licked his lips. "I'm not going to dignify that with an answer."

"Asshole."

"Human."

You snorted, clambering to your knees, and then your feet. You lifted pressure off of your right leg where your ankle ached from being anchored onto. "You say that like it's an insult."

He raised a brow at you, clasping onto your forearm when you offered it. "Take it as you will," he said with a half grunt as you used gravity and momentum to pull his body up.

You threw his arm over your shoulders to begin the trek up the hill. Trying to avoid putting weight on your right foot was a little difficult, but you were determined. Your joints and chest ached and your socks squelched grossly in your shoes.

"Your ankle," he started.

"I'll survive," you repeated his words from earlier. "It's nothing compared to broken ribs." The thought occurred to you that if the siren could break Changmin's ribs with his arms, then… he could have easily shattered the bones in your ankle.

A shiver slithered down your spine. You were thanking every divine being who existed for keeping your ankle intact.

"You know I'm not letting you drive, right?"

He let out a noise of indignation. "I can drive, Yn."

"You're not driving."

You could feel his eyes roll. "Whatever."

#11—THE DRIVER'S SEAT.

IT WAS A MIRACLE THAT both you and Changmin fit into your sister's clothes. There was a decent stash of clothing left in the second floor wardrobe of the lighthouse, and you both dressed in relaxed pants and t-shirts as you recuperated. Once you were cleaned up, for the most part, it was back to the car.

Changmin watched with a pained look on his face as you settled into the driver's seat and began adjusting everything for your personal preference.

"Are you going to seatbelt or should I do that for you?" You asked as you finished checking the side mirrors.

He slowly buckled himself in. "I hope you know how much I despise this."

"You despise a lot of things."

"I can drive, Yn."

"Okay, yeah. I almost died for the third time five hours ago. I don't want to risk my life a fourth time." You shoved the keys into the ignition and twisted the engine to life. Leaning back in the seat, you put the car into reverse to begin taking the vehicle up the road to the mainland. "You said to get onto the interstate and keep following until—"

"Deer Ridge—can you be careful," he hissed, eyes slicing toward your movements, before gritting his teeth at his swollen ribs.

You swatted his micromanaging away. "I am so surprised you have never made this much of a fuss about your car before."

He brooded, eyes never leaving your hands on the wheel. "I should've learned stick shift."

You rolled your eyes. "You're such a baby."

Because the lighthouse was of no use and not safe, you were going to drive yourself and Changmin to the next closest safehouse. It was another five hour drive, give or take a needed food stop at some point because you hadn't eaten since dinner at Moonstone Creak. You were afraid Changmin would use that against you at some point so he could be in the driver's seat again. Stubborn brat.

If he wouldn't drink your blood to rejuvenate, if he wouldn't let you drive when you were clearly the most capacitated, then what the Hell did he want from you?

You followed the road signs and his passive-aggressive mutterings about how to get to the interstate from here. You hadn't driven in a long time, mainly because your apartment was so close to everything you needed, and gas cost an arm and a leg. Maybe that was why Changmin was so prickly about you driving his car… but some things were a necessary evil. He would have to put on his big boy pants and deal with it.

"You know," you said after you'd officially hopped onto the highway. "Now would be a great time to start explaining things about the necklace. Since we were supposed to talk about it at the lighthouse and all."

You heard him push out a breath. One of his hands cupped the side of his body that was battered the most while his other rested on the center console. "Right."

You waited.

He struggled to fit the words into the right places for a decent explanation, nothing seeming quite adequate, but he eventually came up with an answer. "The necklace—" he paused, amending, "I guess I should call it more of an amulet—the amulet is something made of very ancient, powerful magic. It was something forged from a combination of all three realms, and so the energy that it stores within itself is complacent with all three realms.

"I can't remember exactly the mythology that came with the damned thing, but your sister did. She knew all the ins and outs of the legend—she obsessed over it."

"Obsessed over it?" Your eyebrows furrowed

"Yes," he said. "Which is why it's crazy to me she was even able to keep it a secret from you in the first place." Changmin brushed a hand through his hair, shifting in his seat awkwardly. "Anyways, the amulet is kind of like a key. It needs a vessel to be the—the gate or the portal of sorts to activate it, but it would grant the creature who wields it the energy and power to travel through realms as if it were their own."

You checked your mirrors and flicked on the signal to change lanes. "Wait, not to sound like a YA fantasy book protagonist—"

"A what?"

"Human thing," you dismissed airily. "So if someone got their hands on this thing, they could hypothetically conquer whole realms that aren't their own? Hypothetically, of course."

Changmin nodded slowly. "Hypothetically," he drawled. "If that's what they wanted to do. You'd have to have one Hell of an army to do so, and the amulet can't really give power to other people, only the one."

"It's a portable charger for one person's plan of mass destruction?"

He huffed, turning his head to the window, and when you glanced over for a millisecond, you swore he was smiling. "You're so…"

"Funny, clever, charming?" You supplied, the corners of your lips curling upward. You licked your lips, then pursed them in thought. While you were driving and pondering the weapon of otherworldly conquer seated upon your neck, you also kept a look out for any restaurants at nearby exits. Maybe an all-day brunch place with blueberry pancakes… "Changmin?"

"Hm."

"Is there a way to destroy this? To ensure that no one can ever use it?" There had to be some method of self-destruct for something potentially so dangerous. Then again, you weren't an expert on magical artifacts.

Changmin's eyes moved back over to you. "If there is, it'll be somewhere in Sena's notes."

Oh.

The car ride chugged on for another hour or so before you gave up. Your stomach growled its disapproval of going so long without something sustaining, and you marked the billboard of a gas station at the next exit. The car needed to be fed, too, anyway.

It was a standard little pump-and-wash with an option to fill your tank, take your car through the little Soapy Joe's car wash in the back, or both. The gas station building was a camel-colored sandstone with deals on gas station snacks printed in massive, red block letters on bright yellow paper. For the most part, it seemed pretty empty, with only an SUV of a family on a road trip and another sedan with a rather disgruntled looking business man.

You swung the car into the pump station closest to the gas station store's door and began searching for the gas tank button.

"Bottom left, second from the right," Changmin instructed, already clambering out of the car. He suppressed the urge to make a noise as he did so with his still-bruised and battered torso.

"What are you doing?" You asked after locating the button and giving it a push. The muffled pop sound followed right after.

He braced one hand on the roof of his car as he peered back in. "I'm filling up my tank."

You deadpanned. You should have known the stubborn cretin would insist. It was better for you to not fight him if he was gonna be this anal about driving his own car while injured. "I'm getting snacks then."

"Have fun," he muttered, pulling his card out of his bifold. Where did even get money to put on that thing?

You mused upon that thought as you dug around your backpack in the back seat for a couple twenties. You wouldn't need much, just enough so you could indulge a bit.

Ten minutes later, you walked out of the gas stop with a plastic grocery bag in one hand and a blue and red swirled slurpee in the other. It was no 7/11, but goddamn did the sugar hit your system just right. After nearly drowning in sea water, it gave your body the perfect amount of zip.

You found Changmin in the driver's seat (were you surprised? Of course not), with his seat and mirrors adjusted back to how he liked it, and his phone plugged into the USB port in the center console. You clambered into your designated seat with the grace of a car sale balloon because of your sore ankle.

He glanced up from his phone, hand carding through his hair. "Ready?"

"Wait, before we go—" You sorted through your bag of treats and looked for the little, brown paper bag amongst all the other junk. You pulled it out, the bottom beginning to seep through from the grease of the pastry inside. Childlike glee rushed through your veins, and you couldn't tell if that was just the slurpee or the thought of getting him a treat. Beaming, you extended it toward him. "I got you a blueberry muffin."

For a second, Changmin just stared. His eyes widened at the expression on your face, and you couldn't tell why something felt like it had shifted. He glanced at the grease-soaked paper vessel, then back to you, then the bag, then—

"Thanks," he said slowly, grabbing the bag from you and unrolling the top edge to open it up. (If you'd paid attention longer, you would have seen the darkening of his cheekbones. A rare sight.)

"They don't exactly sell blueberry pancakes," you prattled on and decided between a bag of kettle chips or a packet of dried seaweed; you decided on the former and popped the bag open. "So I got the next best thing. And the woman running the store looks like she bakes them fresh. Oh, I saw that it had this crumble on top and thought it had to be a sign it was top notch stuff."

Changmin inspected the muffin, then took a generous bite, cupping beneath it to catch any crumbs. His eyes fluttered shut and he moaned. "Fuck—me. That's so good."

You brightened. "Glad you think so," you chuckled in amusement.

He hummed in reply, already going in for his next bite.

With a car of slightly more content campers, you hit the road. The remainder of the journey would add up to a little more than four hours from here, as long as there weren't any other pitstops made. Hopefully, you would arrive before it got dark and you wouldn't have to deal with another situation like this morning.

The bag of snacks rested at your feet and you had tucked away the chip bag for later. It was concerning how fast your body became accustomed to this seat again, how it knew exactly what way to sit in order to be comfortable.

Changmin glanced over at you just as he made it onto the interstate ramp. "You should get some sleep. It's been… a long day and night."

Right on cue, you yawned. "Do you dream when you sleep—if you sleep?" You asked, instead of heeding his advice.

"Huh? Oh." He used his free hand to adjust the AC coming in through the vents. "I only really sleep if I'm bored, or if I know I'm not under threat, I guess."

You frowned. "Do you not feel safe a majority of the time?"

"It depends," he lifted his shoulder. "When we were at uni, there usually wasn't much threat around, so I slept sometimes. I only sometimes dream though."

You hummed, acknowledging him. "I think it's kind of funny that you're a demon studying anthropology."

His laugh was breathy. "Yeah? A little ironic?"

"What? Did you think it would help you blend in or something?"

He snorted. "No… I mean, it seemed like an interesting topic when I perused the website when applying."

You made a face, eyes staring out at the vast road before you. It was just before a typical afternoon rush hour, so there wasn't much traffic. "How did you even have the credentials to apply and get in?"

"A little white lie never hurt anyone," he said innocently.

You threw him an incredulous look, and a chuckle fell out of his mouth. "Despicable."

"I am a demon."

You fiddled with the hem of your sister's shirt, then reached up to play with the chain and pendant around your neck. You'd become so used to its weight that it felt wrong when it was gone. "Would you ever teach me how to use Bonnie?"

Changmin's hand felt around the middle console blindly until he met the lid of your slurpee. "I'm drinking this."

"Wait, I have an extra straw—"

"What, you don't want my magic spit?"

Your gaze flattened into a deadpan. "Oh, so now it's magic spit?" You watched in melodramatic disgust as he took a generous sip of the sugary drink from your straw. You didn't really mind, of course; you weren't going to finish that thing all on your own. "And you didn't answer my question."

He replaced the cup back into its cupholder. "What's a Bonnie?"

"I hate you."

He let out a loud laugh that made your forced scowl nearly shatter. Who knew a demon could look so pretty when he laughed like that? "I don't even use it, you know that, right?"

"And I haven't the slightest idea why you keep her locked up like that." You shoved the pair of sandals you'd stolen from the lighthouse off so you could fold your legs onto the seat with you. Your finger brushed over the flesh of your ankle, where it was gradually splotching with blueish purple.

It was a familiar scene, that of Changmin taking his eyes off the road the briefest moment to inspect your bruise and frown. Humans are so fragile, he'd said before. The bruises on your neck from the motel had faded by now, thanks to the miracle salve he gave you at Moonstone Creak.

He cursed under his breath. "I forgot to bring the cup of salve from the inn," he sighed.

"That's fine," you murmured. "We were… in a rush." You swallowed, and when you closed your eyes, you could see the pack house in flames. "I hope they're okay."

"Yeah, same."

"Would it have mattered if we stayed?" You asked.

You expected him to simply say that it wouldn't have mattered, because that wasn't our goal. He knew what the wolf shifters were capable of, what Jacob was capable of, but you didn't. You'd seen them in bliss and peace, without the ferocity of what he might have been used to.

He thought about it and confessed, "I'm not sure. They can take care of themselves, but I—" he stumbled over his words, reeling them back in before he could say them out loud.

"You…?"

He shook his head. "It's not important. What's important now is that you—we—got out alive." When you couldn't find anything to say after, he reached over across the console to find your forearm again. His fingers curled around you, like they had when you'd left the woods. "If it makes you, uh, feel better, we can reach out to them. Send them a message once we get to the safehouse."

You nodded, moving your arm so his hand rested in yours and your other hand patted the top of his. "I'd appreciate that."

Changmin's nod was small, and he kept his hand sandwiched between the two of yours.

#12—ALL HER SECRETS.

WHEN YOU DREAMED, your sister was drunk and stumbling across a dark road for help. Your throat lurched with air, but your scream was completely silent as her eyes went wide in the glare of the car lights. A deer in headlights, in a literal sense. It never occurred to you how morbid the saying was until you witnessed it in action.

Her body laid sprawled over the stretch of road as the couple driving scrambled out to check her vitals.

Dead on impact.

You awoke with a start.

Everything was fuzzy and muddled, and you sucked in oxygen through your nostrils, hands reaching up to rub your eyes with the heels of your palms. The place on your thigh where your hands had been resting grew cold at the lack of warmth as Changmin retracted his hand to his own side, putting the car into reverse to back into the driveway.

Cirrus clouds blotched the bruising sky, golden hour long since passed and the highway far out of view. You noted the residential street you faced through the front windshield with the sounds of children biking and drawing chalk masterpieces on sidewalks in the cul de sac down the road. You'd only ever really experienced this kind of tranquility in movies, never for yourself.

Your heartbeat, once erratic from the dream, calmed. (It was crazy how real a dream could feel.)

Changmin shuddered off the headlights and the engine died down. "We're here," he cleared his throat. He cracked his knuckles, one hand cradling the other.

You peered through your side view mirror, only catching part of the house in view. How had she afforded a whole house in the suburbs? Granted, it didn't look as large as the others on the street, but the fact that this was under her name… she hid all of this from you.

"I dreamed about her," you murmured in a voice hoarse from sleep.

He glanced at you. "Sena?"

"Yeah," you hummed. "How she died—or I guess, how I imagined her death to be." You met his gaze, and it seemed like he was searching for something in your face. You reached down to gather your belongings in the gas station grocery bag, then popped the car door open. "So this is the place, huh?"

Changmin shook his hair out of his eyes. "Huh? Oh, yeah. I've only been here once or twice, too, but it's nice."

"How'd she afford this place anyway?"

"I think she found a vampiric sundial for a client." Crazy. Must have been one well-off client.

He hadn't been wrong about the place being nice. It was one of those cookie-cutter houses with white shutters in the windows, a garage big enough for two cars, and a driveway flanked by twin beds of emerald green grass. A little metal mailbox sat at the end of the driveway by the street with a red tab and the house number branded on the side. It was the dictionary definition of suburbia.

Changmin walked right up the front porch and stuck his hand in the potted plant hanging from a hook. Out of it, he withdrew a key, rusted and dirtied, but the perfect fit for the front door. It was a massive change from the lighthouse's situation.

Inside, you didn't expect anything less cozy than what you found. The entryway was confronted by a staircase that led to the second floor, and there was a hallway that led further into the home, and a doorway to the right that went into the living room. You took this all in with wide eyes, your breath held at the sight of unlit candles on tables, quirky baubles beside them, and picture frames—dear god, the picture frames.

You stopped in front of one of them and picked it up. In the dimming light, you traced the lines of your sister's smile and yours right next to hers. You both looked so young in this photo—way more carefree and innocent. You wondered how she had saved all of these photos when you only had them encased in your memory.

Changmin had disappeared up the stairs, most likely heading straight for Sena's room or an office, anywhere that might hold the notebooks you and he had been looking for. The wooden planks creaked slightly under your weight as you climbed the stairs, and you ran your hand along the smooth railing as you went.

"Hey Changmin?" You called out, head swiveling around the upstairs landing to find which doorway he'd disappeared into.

"Yeah?" He asked from somewhere within the furthest doorway. You followed the sound and stuck your head into what looked to be a home office. It was outfitted with a desk and office chair, a few bookshelves, and an armchair in the corner. Changmin brushed his finger along the spines.

You joined him at his side and picked a random one to pull out. "How are your ribs?" You asked him, moving your gas station grocery bag handles to hang on your forearms you flipped through the journal. This one didn't seem to have much; maybe she wanted to start a planner in this and never finished.

His movements paused for a second, then resumed. "My ribs? Oh, they're, uh… they're fine now."

Your face screwed up in incredulity. "That's insane."

"Supernatural regeneration plus human blood," he said like he was explaining one plus one equals two.

"But patching up broken bones?" You replaced the book back in its slot and wandered away from the shelf. The office space was decorated comfortably enough but there were no other personal additions besides the furniture.

You stepped back out into the upstairs loft to search for the bedroom. The master was located on the other side of the office door, and when you opened it up, you were hit by a wave of nostalgia.

That was her. That was what Sena smelled like. And where you knew she always kept a bottle, there sat a glass vial of her favorite perfume on the nightstand table. It was as if it said to you, "Welcome home, Yn. We've been expecting you." Except, you never got to be welcomed here, not by your sister, at least.

It was like going into her locked room at the apartment all over again. There weren't as many things here as there were back at your place, but the subtle things left around reminded you of her, besides the scent lingering. It was uncanny how such a thing could stick around for so long, clinging to the walls, the sheets, the floors, until even the air vents recycled that same smell on its own.

You settled on the edge of the bed and just sat there.

It seemed you were returning to the same questions over and over again. Why had she hid any of this from you?

Changmin appeared in the doorway, his hand bracing the doorway. "Hey."

"Did you find something?" You asked.

He pursed his lips, the miniature mole beneath his bottom lip popping out at you. "Nah, not yet anyway. I just… wanted to, uh, see where you'd gone."

"Oh, I came to find her room, is all." You pressed your hands flat on the comforter to feel the fabric. You didn't quite know what to think. "It's weird knowing she lived here at some point."

"She had her reasons for keeping things a secret," he said quietly while venturing a step into the room.

You exhaled sharply. "Yeah, I figured." At the motel, he had confessed that he and Sena both agreed to keep you out of this business unless necessary. He had sisters, did he not say? It didn't seem too far-fetched to assume that he could sympathize more with Sena than you. "You mentioned once that you have sisters."

He stiffened, and you wondered if you'd crossed a line.

"I do," he replied slowly. "I'm not as close to them as you were with Sena."

Your smile was thin. "Yeah, well, based on the past few weeks, I'm not so sure we were that close."

Conflict flickered across his face, and he crossed the space between the doorway and the bed, and took a seat on the edge adjacent to you. "She talked about you a lot," he said. "Thought the world of you."

Your eyes were pinned to the floor as tears welled up in your eyes and blurred your vision.

"Always talked about her baby sister, and how you were the one with your head screwed on right."

If she could see you now… you were going half mad, but the corners of your lips curled upward at the sentiment. You sniffled, wiping your eyes and cheeks with the side of your hand. "You know," you mused, your voice watery, "for a demon, you're getting good at this empathizing thing."

Changmin's shoulders lowered, his hands laid out over his legs as he chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. It's not as hard as you make it out to be."

"Liar."

"Human."

"You need new insults," you groaned, shoving his shoulder.

His bangs hung in his eyes and you couldn't see his expression quite clearly. "Who said it was ever an insult?"

Changmin let you check the state of his still-slightly-broken torso (liar) as long as you let him examine your bruised ankle. You chalked it up to your demon being a big baby again, but you figured there was no harm and no foul in letting him take a peek. It wasn't like the injury hindered your movement an awful lot anyway.

You hissed as he jabbed at a blossom of purple on your ankle and you tried to retract your leg. He kept a firm enough grasp unfortunately. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"So it does hurt."

"No," you quipped, "you're just a sadist."

The two of you sat on the couch in the living room with a first aid kit opened up on the coffee table and a legal pad next to it. In your lap sat one of Sena's many, many journals propped open to a page that you were scanning for anything that might be of help. Changmin had set aside the journal he was reading to drag your foot into his lap.

The top leaf of paper on the legal pad was impressed with the message you had scrawled out for the wolves of Moonstone Creak, asking about their state of health. Changmin had summoned a sprite (???) from over the fence in the backyard to ferry it over. Apparently, it was the supernatural equivalent of medieval pigeon messaging.

You couldn't even begin to wrap your head around all of it. The point was that he had kept his word, and now, you were keeping yours.

The words scrawled in your sister's handwriting blurred in your vision, and you glanced up to watch Changmin again. "What are you doing?" You asked, leaning your head against the couch cushion. "You're not… gonna lick my ankle, right?" You scrunched your face up. As much as you appreciated him trying to heal your injury—

"That's not how saliva works," he replied, holding your leg with one hand so he could lean forward and dig around in the first aid kit.

"Oh, I'm sorry I don't know how saliva works."

He arched an eyebrow up at you, and you recognized the silent "Really?" in his expression.

You lowered your eyes back to the journal in your lap and tried to suppress your amusement. "I don't know how you plan to heal a bruise, but usually ice and time are the best—oh shit, that's cold!"

You squealed and attempted to wrench your foot away once again, but he yet again prevailed. He anchored your foot down as he pressed a bandage-looking adhesive around the circumference of your ankle. As the sharp, icy pain gradually diminished, your muscles loosened up.

"Don't ever do that again," you told him with a scowl, successfully pulling away your leg from him (because he let you).

He sent you a flat look. "You'll thank me later. It's a good thing she had some stashed away," he said, flipping the first aid box lid closed and returning to the journal he picked out.

You gave your ankle an experimental roll. The ache had numbed and there was no longer a jab of pain when you moved the joint around. "What is it?"

"Some magical bandage that is specifically for mortal species," he said offhandedly with his eyes glued to the pages. "You have to find a witch apothecary to get them, and even then, they sometimes scam you and jack up the price."

"Huh." There was still much for you to learn, it seemed, but even the supernatural world fell victim to capitalism.

With your foot patched up, the both of you descended into silence to return to your respective journals. There were interesting things scrawled between the lines and the margins. Your sister liked to sketch things, and so you figured out pretty quickly that this journal was used to document supernatural herbs she came across while on her adventures.

You ditched that one to move onto the next. This one seemed like a standard, hard-covered journal with a lilac-colored ribbon used as a bookmark. It wasn't marking any specific page, however, but was only tucked between the cover and the first page. You flipped through the entries, noting the dates—wait.

Wait… these were recent.

"Changmin," you muttered, tapping his shoulder as you scanned the inky scrawls.

Changmin put his notebook down and the two of you converged onto the same couch cushion, your shoulders and thighs pressed together, and the book opened between you.

"Do you recognize when this was?" You asked, pointing out the dates in the top corners. "I remember she told me she was going up north to study abroad during this time."

His forehead creased between his eyebrows. "Yeah… I remember. She was being vague with where she said she was going."

"She didn't tell you?"

"She didn't report to me, if that's what you're asking."

You turned your attention to the diary entries. This particular one was labeled with the third of November, the year before:

A note to self: never choose the Holiday Inn off the I-375. It might literally smell like a dead body in here, and I'm keeping my window open the entire night.

You snorted. Noted.

—drive was long and I don't think Yn expected anything. She had this massive exam today, so I think she was a little preoccupied, but she sent me off as usual. (Fighting Yn!) It's tough keeping this from her, but at the same time… I'm not sure if she would understand.

She's always been in the right headspace—not whatever dream world I've been living in. I don't know why I always invalidate myself when I know this is all real. Maybe it's not?

That's besides the point. I'm supposed to meet the amulet owner in a couple days and there is still a laundry list of things I need to do before that exchange happens.

"The amulet had an owner before her?" You voiced aloud. And what did she mean that you wouldn't understand? Was that why she never told you the truth?

Changmin gave a head bob. "I wouldn't mark it as a ridiculous notion. A lot of magical artifacts sit in basements and get pawned or sold as antiques." He shrugged. "It's not like they come with manuals that say I'm not just a Tiffany lamp; I'm a magic carpet."

You squinted at him. "I never realized how silly you were."

"I'm not silly," he scoffed.

Sure you aren't, you thought. Demons and their tough guy act.

Changmin flipped past the pages, both of you skimming each as you went for any words that jumped off the page.

"Stop," you said, bumping your hand against his. "Go back."

You thought you had seen something… there.

It was dated several weeks after the first entry, and her writing looked more scratchy, more frantic:

I translated one of the passages wrong. The amulet doesn't use the wearer's blood as an activator, it BINDS them to it. The wearer is an amplifier, NOT an activator.

What.

You stopped reading there, digging the pendant out from beneath your shirt collar and watching the red upon the stone wink at you. The blood drained from your face—what did that mean, amplifier?

Next to you, Changmin kept reading on. His eyebrows braided together in concentration as he soaked up all the words on the notebook like a sponge. This was all of the information he hasn't gotten from Sena before, and what she might have wanted to tell him beforehand. At least, that was what you thought. That was what made the most sense.

It's too late for me anyways, I already pricked my finger against it and it sucked it all up. It's been done, was what your sister wrote. I don't know how magic reads blood types or genetic code, if it even does that, but for some reason I'm less scared and more curious.

Things to note: it seems to match my heartbeat. The full amulet should ideally be the shape of an infinity loop—supposedly. It's a little off, but it might be from the wear of time. It's missing a piece though, a middle portion that slides over it like a connector or binder of sorts. Neither half will stay together without it, and without said third piece, the amulet won't work.

I guess my next course of action is to find out who does have the third piece, and to make sure this damn thing will never EVER be used.

Changmin flipped the page, and you began unclasping the chain.

He stopped you, placing a hand over your own with wide eyes. "Woah, what are you doing?"

Your mouth dropped open. "Did you not just read what she said? This is an amplifier, Changmin. I don't know what the Hell that means, but I don't want it on me." No matter how much the emptiness left behind protested, the word "amplifier" made your heart drop.

He protested again, stopping your movement. "Yn—Yn, listen to me. We cannot lose the one piece we have."

Your heart was moving erratically now, the pendant pulsing in perfect time. If it had your sister's blood in it then why did it match yours? "I don't want it on me," you croaked. You fisted the pendant and held it away from your chest. "It matches my heartbeat, Changmin. Do you know how fucking unnerving that is when it's supposed to be my sister's?"

Changmin faltered at this revelation. He blinked. "I—since when did it match your heartbeat?"

"Since the moment I put it on."

His eyes went to the amulet in your hands, and his expression rearranged itself into something you couldn't read—worry, maybe—

He froze.

You just barely picked up on the sound yourself while descending into panic, but it sounded like wheels rolling on the street in front of the house. Both of you peered out the window shutters to the front lawn space as a white colored sedan pulled up along the front curb.

A white sedan.

Changmin's hand tightened on your arm as he assessed the car. The headlights remained on, but the driver had yet to step out and reveal themselves. "You have Clyde?"

"I do, but… what if they're here for the neighbors?" You whispered even as the hair on the back of your neck stood up. Not here, not again. You and Changmin were finally getting answers.

He looked like he was about to counter when the driver's side door opened.

Instead of a big, scary monster or creature, the person who clambered out was quite petite. Then again, you weren't quite sure what to expect. She wore a big, white knit cardigan that hung off her frame, and she had platinum blond hair with dark purple highlights. The car door slammed shut behind her as she trudged up the grassy lawn toward the front door and rang the doorbell.

Changmin seemed just as surprised as you did.

"Girl Scout cookies?" You suggested under your breath. It definitely wasn't Girl Scout cookie season, and the woman didn't seem young enough to still be a Girl Scout. (And usually, Girl Scout sellers came with something to sell. This one just had her car keys and a phone.)

He passed you a look. The muscle in his jaw told you he was still on the offense. "Stay here," he said, then got up and quietly made his way to the front door.

The doorbell rang again, the sound echoing throughout the house loud enough to wake the dead.

Changmin made eye contact with you once more before he began unlocking the door. He pasted on a smile, with one hand on the doorknob to keep the door angled so the woman couldn't see past him, and the other lingering around his middle "Hi, can I help you?"

You didn't even think he had the vocabulary to be polite.

"Oh, uh, hi!" Chirped the visitor. Her voice was bright, but with a raspy quality to it. She neither looked familiar nor sounded familiar. "This is probably really strange, but did you recently move into this house?"

Changmin moved his hand up to his opposing shoulder. "Yeah, actually. My partner and I just moved in. Why do you ask?"

Partner? He meant the strictly-business kind, right?... Right?

You stood up and began making small steps toward him in the entryway. He must have heard you, because you saw his eyes flicker toward you in his peripheral vision, and he stuck his hand out behind the door to swat you away.

Like you were going to listen.

"Ah," said the woman, "I just…" she chuckled, shaking her head. "One of the neighbors texted me about seeing you guys come in earlier today. I used to know the previous owner; we were pretty close, I guess you could say."

His eyes darted to yours for a millisecond. You heard that, too, right?

You approached the door, standing just behind the wall and out of sight.

"Oh, you knew Sena?" Changmin asked.

"Yeah," she answered easily. "She was my ex-fianceé."

#13—NO SUCH THING.

"SO HOW LONG HAVE YOU TWO BEEN TOGETHER?" The question nearly had you snorting tea from your nose. Beside you, Changmin had a similar reaction, turning away slightly to catch the water that trickled out of his mouth.

Mika, the woman with the platinum blonde and purple hair, the woman who had shown up at the door, the woman who was Sena's ex-fianceé, widened her eyes in alarm. "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry—is—is that not what you both are? I assumed when he said partner, but I shouldn't have—"

You shook your head, thumping your chest. "Oh, no, no," you said, pretending your voice hadn't gone up four octaves. "It's—it's okay! You just caught us both off guard, is all."

As soon as Mika revealed her identity, you said "screw it all" and practically ripped the door open. Any skepticism was dashed when she recognized you immediately as Sena's little sister—as stupid as it sounded, that was enough proof for you.

You invited her in.

Now, she sat on the armchair adjacent to you and Changmin. Sena's books had been kicked under the couch in the haste to clean up, leaving the first aid kit and legal pad out. To Mika's credit, she didn't comment on either one, just accepting your offer for a drink.

"We're uhm…"

"Kind of together," you said, but it sounded more like a question.

Changmin swallowed. "Uh, ish."

"It's complicated."

You hoped your face hadn't gone too red because it burned like the pits of Hell. Changmin didn't look any better; even his face was brushed in pink.

Mika let out a delicate laugh, lifting her mug of tea to her lips for a sip. "No, I get it. You don't owe me an explanation."

You could have sagged in relief. At least she seemed nice.

"I really appreciate you both letting me into your home," she continued and nursed the mug in her lap. "I know neither of you know me, but I suppose we have one mutual friend."

You nodded. "Yeah no, of course. I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you. Sena…" Hid so much from me. "Sena and I both had pretty different lives." Understatement of the century.

Mika straightened. "Oh, yes! I completely understand. She actually told me that she traveled a lot, and that you're studying—I believe it was accounting?"

You blinked. "Yes, actually."

"That's lovely, by the way," she said pleasantly. "I've never been great at math, so I admire you for that. Definitely not my cup of tea, but good for you."

"When is math anyone's cup of tea?" You mused, and she gave a little laugh of agreement.

This was… unexpectedly nice. But while the moment was sweet, you were divided internally. Sena told Mika about you, but didn't tell you about Mika. Had you done something where she didn't trust you enough to disclose this very important part of her personal life to you? It wasn't like you hid anything from her—you just, well, didn't have anything to hide.

"I didn't realize that Sena even told you about this place," Mika said, gesturing around at the house.

Oh, right. Back to the reality of your current situation. "Heh, yeah," you drawled and scratched the side of your neck. "She wrote all of the details down in her will for me." That seemed like a logical lie to tell.

"I'm surprised you weren't included in the will reading, Mika," Changmin suddenly jumped into the conversation. Your eyes were wide as you whipped your head toward him. His expression was carefully blank, words and movements executed with a lethal casualness. Because that was who he was—lethal. You just couldn't understand why he was putting it on for this lady.

"Changmin," you whispered sharply in reprimand, setting your cup down on the coffee table.

"No, it's okay, Yn," Mika replied good-naturedly. "It's a perfectly reasonable observation. I told her not to include me in her will, if she ever wrote one. I just… I have a lot of material things already, and it sounds kind of corny, but I didn't want anything like that from her—just her and her company." You noted the way she played around with the empty spot on her left ring finger absentmindedly, as if something—a ring—had once sat there.

Your chest warmed. At least you knew your sister was properly loved, as she should have been. A bittersweet sort of sadness wormed into the back of your mind still. "Ah, I see. I wish I would've known how to contact you after…"

"After that, yeah," she nodded. She swallowed, setting her mug on the table and shifting in the armchair. "Same here. Sena never gave me any means to get in touch with you, but I'm sure it was for a certain reason."

"How did you know that Sena was dead?"

You slapped your hand over Changmin's mouth. "I am so sorry about him. You don't have to answer that—"

"I just assumed that Sena had me as one of her emergency contacts, besides you, of course." Mika gestured to you with her expression still light and unbothered. You removed your hand from Changmin's mouth, nodding along. "Somebody contacted me about how her sister identified the body, but that Sena was dead, nonetheless."

That made sense. The morgue had been cold when you stepped foot inside it to confirm it was your sister there. You could imagine what Mika must have felt when authorities contacted her to give her the bad news. It must have been something close to how you felt.

With one hand resting in your lap, the other fiddled with your pendant. You'd forgotten to tuck it away earlier.

Mika's eyes darted toward it after following your hand movement. "Oh, that's an interesting necklace."

You enclosed your fingers around it and straightened. Every time anybody else noticed the amulet, you always felt like a deer in headlights. "It's—it's nothing really. I just—"

"I have one exactly like it."

Your fidgeting slowed. Heartbeat racketing against your chest, you could feel your counterpart tense next to you. "You do?" You stammered.

She bobbed her head. "I'm pretty sure, yes. Sena gave it to me. At first, I wasn't sure exactly what stone it was—I kind of just figured it was something precious, but I knew it had a level of sentimental value to it." Mika smiled, the corners of her lips curling sweetly, eyes misting. "I guess it makes sense that you have the other half."

Of course. Of course Mika had the other half. That was why Sena split the halves of the necklace and gave one half to you. Maybe this was her way of connecting you and Mika together by giving either of you a half of the very important necklace. One question that still remained was why hadn’t Sena mentioned anything to you about Mika or the other half of the necklace? Had she forgotten to write it down in her haste? Perhaps she hadn’t thought she was in danger just yet, and didn’t have a moment before her untimely death to sit down and explain everything in a letter.

“Do you happen to have the other half with you?” You asked her, leaning forward onto your knees. “I’ve been so puzzled as to what it is these past few weeks.” A blatant lie, but you needed to know how much Mika knew. She hadn’t mentioned anything about the dire importance of the necklace yet, but she said “sentimental value.” That wasn’t the same thing. Was it?

Mika pursed her lips and shook her head. “I don’t, unfortunately. It’s at home with my other accessories, but I’d gladly bring it for you to see, maybe over dinner?”

Changmin delivered a swift nudge to your side with his elbow. “Can I talk to you?”

You pressed your lips together. “Sure,” you said, and he immediately stood from the couch to head out into the hallway. You supposed he assumed you were going to follow him. You sent Mika an apologetic look, then trailed after your demon.

You found him waiting for you in the kitchen, leaning against the island with his hands folded over his chest.

“What did you want to talk about?”

He looked at you in earnest and pressed a finger to his lips in a quiet signal. You fixed him with a look, coming to stand beside him. “I don’t think we can trust her,” he murmured to you with his mouth by your ear. He had leaned over so close, you could see the pores on his skin.

The two of you pulled away simultaneously.

You coughed and braced an elbow against the countertop. “Why do you say that?” You asked. You didn’t mean for it to sound so defensive, but you bristled at the thought that you couldn’t trust the one other person who might have more insight into your sister’s life than you or Changmin.

Changmin cocked his head at his tone. “You believe her?”

“She hasn’t given me any reason to not believe her.” You pushed out a breath. If you stepped out of your own head for a moment, it was clear that something was bothering him. Considering he was the one with the supernatural experience and he had yet to be wrong yet, there had to be a good reason for him to not trust Mika. “Okay, why don’t you trust her?”

His eyes roamed over your face—he was doing that thing again—looking for something, but what, you weren’t too sure of. “I…” He sighed, “I realize that this—this is your chance to reconnect with a part of your sister’s past, but she… her presence just doesn’t sit right with me. The timing, her answers… sweetheart, there’s no such thing as coincidence.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “So you think she’s here because of the necklace, or something to that effect?”

“Yes, something to that effect,” he said.

“But all of her answers make sense to me. If Sena had both halves of the necklace, giving two halves to two of the people she deemed close to her would make sense. And I think what she said about the will was a little corny, but…” You admitted, “It was a little strange that Sena didn’t mention anything about her in the will.”

Changmin bit his lip. “I know we probably shouldn’t villainize her right off the bat, but there’s something so weird about this, Yn.”

“Okay,” you said, “I don’t fully agree, but let’s say yes to dinner and then go from there, yeah?”

He seemed to be in agreement after that, and the two of you returned to the living room where Mika glanced up from her phone. “Everything okay?”

You nodded. “Oh yeah. No need to worry; just a personal thing,” you said casually and took your seat from before. “You were saying something about dinner, right?”

As Mika told you about a neat, little restaurant nearby themed like a Prohibition-era speakeasy, you absentmindedly reached for your cup of tea on the coffee table. Before your fingers could make contact with the handle, you felt another hand bump yours out of the way. The cup was suddenly not there.

Instead, you glanced over at Changmin as he swept your tea mug up into his grasp. “Sorry, I wanted some. I hope you don’t mind.”

Your expression was quizzical. He must be a lot more comfortable with sharing things with you after he stole half your slurpee in the car ride. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really that thirsty,” you said slowly.

But his gaze wasn’t on you; it was on Mika. His eyes narrowed at her over the rim of the cup, and he drained its contents in one gulp, like a challenge. You would have to ask him about it later.

Mika didn’t look the least bit fazed. She continued on about dinner plans, none the wiser to Changmin’s dagger-sharp eyes. You had to give her credit for sitting there under his gaze without shrinking into herself, because you probably would not have survived.

The remainder of the visit went without a hitch. Mika didn’t say anything else that drew a snarky response from Changmin, and the three of you (really, it was just you and Mika who participated) decided to meet at the restaurant she mentioned the next day for dinner.

“Well, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Mika laughed lightheartedly, and the both of you stood at once.

Changmin stayed on the couch, but you figured it would be fine if you just walked her to the door. You frowned, though, noting the way his eyelids fluttered, like he was trying to keep himself upright. “Nonsense,” you said to her, “it was really nice to meet you, Mika.”

You opened the front door for her, and Mika fitted her shoes back on. “You, as well. And your partner.” Her lips curled up into a sweet smile. “Can’t wait to see you both tomorrow again, and to get to know you better. We have so much to catch up on.”

You nodded. “Yes, definitely. Get back safe, Mika.”

“I will. Thanks, Yn.” She gave a wave before marching down across the front lawn. You lingered by the door to make sure she got into her car okay, and returned her final, little wave through the driver’s side window.

With one hand braced on the side of the open front door, you craned your head around to look at Changmin on the couch. “Hey, you doing okay?” You asked, eyebrows creasing at the way he was hunched over now. “Changmin?”

“I think she—”

You didn’t hear what he said.

From your peripheral vision, you saw something swoop in toward you fast. You couldn’t comprehend what was happening—just the blur of feathers, the scream you let out, and the sound of Changmin yelling your name.

He was so sure that Mika drugged your tea with essence of sloth.

After you and Changmin came back from the kitchen, he’d seen the way the surface of your tea swirled as if something had just been stirred into it. The tea, which had been a mild green color before, looked a shade deeper, with fresh steam rising from it. He recognized those properties so distinctly to that of supernatural essences modeled after the seven deadly sins. He hadn’t even needed to think about it—he just reached for it and drank the entire thing. The worst case scenario was that Mika put enough of the essence in there that Changmin would be slightly affected, but only that much; either way, he would be able to stomach it better than you could. He couldn’t let you consume even a drop of it.

But now that his eyelids were as heavy as lead curtains and his brain felt like cotton, he was thinking it had to be sloth. But even if it was sloth, he wouldn’t have been this affected by it.

It had to be something different. Something he hadn’t taken before, something she knew a demon wouldn’t already have tolerance to.

He tuned into the conversation happening, just as Mika was excusing herself to head home. Good, she would leave and he could sleep this fucking drug off. You would be none the wiser.

“—will. Thanks, Yn.”

Almost gone.

Changmin’s eyelids shuddered closed as he leaned forward onto his knees with his head ducked to his chest. This… whatever the fuck this was, it was hitting him… hitting him… like… like a truck.

A familiar voice—no, more than just familiar—came to him. Your voice reached out to him, a lighthouse guiding his ship through a storm to shore. “Hey, you doing okay? Changmin?”

Could you close the door and come closer? Come over to him and sit next to him again. He gave a rough shake of his head in an attempt to knock some sense into his head. “I think she—”

Your scream sliced him right through the chest, and he jolted. “YN?”

“Changmin! Changmin—”

Everything blurred in his vision as he tried to stand. The floor wobbled beneath him, and he swayed toward the polished wood violently. “YN,” he yelled. Please, please, please—he needed to get to you.

He could barely make out the shapes in his vision: the flurry of gray feathered wings, your legs kicking out as you fought your captor. Changmin’s body lurched toward you, but stumbled pathetically, nearly tripping over the coffee table. Panic seized him by the ribs, but he trudged onward. He… he had to get to you. “YN? YN.”

“Chang—”

He swore.

His knees hit the floor. He would fucking crawl if he had to.

A pair of boots came into his blurred vision. “Well, isn’t this a lovely sight?”

Something in the back of his mind told him to RUN. But he couldn’t. Fucking Hell, he couldn’t even push himself up.

His chin was tilted upward, and he made out the shapes of eyes staring into his soul like a cat to a mouse. “She’ll be alright,” the voice purred. “You have bigger problems now.”

#14—DON'T TRUST ANYONE.

OUT OF FEAR OF FALLING STRAIGHT TO YOUR DEATH, you didn’t struggle in the arms of your angelic captor. Your heart ratcheted around in your ribcage as you dangled from the powerful grasp of one divine being you didn't recognize. His feathered wings, colored a medium gray, would have been beautiful to you if you weren't currently one slip away from splatting to the earth. This angel was nothing like Jacob.

All you could do was wait for doom. Whenever it decided to take you.

You hoped Changmin was okay. You prayed to anybody listening that he was okay; the way he stumbled toward you… the desperation in his voice. You swallowed. Oh god, you hoped he was okay. You couldn't stomach the thought of it—of losing him.

(You hoped you were going to be okay, too.)

The night sky looked akin to a dark void. No stars hung tonight, and you couldn't even see the houses beneath your feet. You screwed your eyes shut—better to not look down.

It wasn't much longer that the angel dove down into the dark mass of clouds and your voice became entrapped in your throat again. When you opened your eyes, there was a large estate coming into view with small lights embedded in the grounds lighting the way like a private airstrip. The angel followed, letting your arms go when your feet were close enough to the ground.

You rolled into the grass—he grabbed you up but the back of your shirt to stand upright.

"Come on," he grunted, "let's go inside."

"What the Hell do you want from me?" You gritted out as he practically dragged you across the lawn and toward the mansion ahead.

Shit, where did he take you? The grounds sprawled around you for what seemed like acres. You didn't have the mind to appreciate the architecture though, if this was your final resting place.

The angel didn't answer your question. Rude.

When he wrestled you into the front foyer, he threw you to the cool, stone floor. Your hands and knees caught the stone with a sharp slap, and you winced, rolling onto your backside.

"Stay here until—" Something embedded itself into the side of his neck. He scrunched his face up in mild annoyance, feeling around for the dart and pulling the needle out. He scoffed at the puny thing, flicking it to the floor.

Somebody leapt out from the front window curtains, screeching like a bat out of Hell. The creature, the person, launched themselves onto the angel's back and reared their armed hand back, before plunging the blade of a knife between his shoulder blades.

Gold-tinted blood arced across the ceiling and walls. You were frozen in horror as you watched Mika cling to the angel's wings and stab him over—and over—and over—and over—

The angel fought well, but the blade—fucking Hell, it had to have been laced with something.

He fell face first into a pool of his blood, dead, you presumed.

You scurried backward, trying to put space between you and the angel corpse. The golden ichor was slowly trickling toward you over the polished floors.

Mika huffed a strand of hair out of her eyes, sweat dampening her forehead. Her entire front and hand was covered in angel blood. She swiped the back of her hand over her forehead, leaving a streak of it there like gruesome war paint.

She smiled at you—you shivered. "Sorry about that," she said, stepping over the corpse unceremoniously. "Had to get rid of him. This one was a pain in the ass to work with anyway." She gave the body a kick in the side, and you flinched.

"What—" you choked, "—who the fuck are you?"

Mika's cheerful disposition was still present in her face. Her eyes still turned into crescent moons when she smiled. She was still the Mika you met less than two hours ago, but also not. Nothing about her softness before brought you any comfort now.

"We just met, Yn, don't you remember?" She walked toward you, and you scrambled away. "Now, don't be like that. We're on the same side." The blade in his grasp glinted gold and silver in the foyer lighting, and she gestured with it. "Oh, this? I put a little something special on it—it's the same thing your demon drank. In this world, we need as many advantages as we can, Yn."

When you had yet to say anything, she sighed, disappointed. "Don't tell me you're not impressed. Your sister was the same way when I showed her the thing I made."

You had one hand behind you, inching toward Clyde in your back pocket. "What… what do you mean? Is Changmin going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine," she dismissed with a flick of her wrist. "Well," she reconsidered. "I don't know if he'll be okay. Depends on the mood of the angels who have him. But that's not our problem."

"If you want the necklace, you can have it."

Mika laughed. "Goody! I was gonna take it from you anyway, but no, that's not the only thing I want."

"What else could you possibly want?"

She towered over you and you stuck your angel blade out between you and her. She raised a brow at the knife, slowly leaning down to be eye level with you. "Your sister really didn't tell you anything, huh?"

You gritted your teeth in frustration.

"Yn, let me tell you a story." Mika settled into the floor in front of you, crisscrossing her legs. Gold clung and dried against her clothes and skin, but it didn't bother her. "Not long ago, I discovered a little thing in my grandfather's attic. It was two halves of a pendant, and when put together, it made the shape of an infinity sign—or something to that effect. I had no idea what it was, but I figured there was no use keeping it around; I didn't need it. I put it on Craigslist and waited.

"Lo and behold, I got a notification from someone interested. Her name—can you guess? I bet you can," Mika mused.

"Sena."

"There you go," she said, leaning back onto her palms with a wistful smile. "Sena and I arranged a time to meet, and the first time I saw her—do you believe in love at first sight? I do. I fell in love with her, and I like to think she did, too."

You attempted to put a stop to the shakiness in your hands. "Where are you going with this?"

"Impatient, are we?" Her eyes narrowed. She drawled, carrying on, "She introduced me to her world and the necklace. This little amulet that my grandfather had tossed in an old jewelry box could conquer worlds, in the right hands. Could you imagine that? Jumping from realm to realm in a supercharged version of yourself without losing energy?"

Your mouth pressed into a thin line. "Dangerous."

"That's the boring answer."

"You're sick."

"I like to say ambitious," she countered. "You're just like your sister. Sena wanted to figure out how to destroy the thing rather than how to use it. Waste of time and talent, if you ask me. She didn't get it."

Mika cocked an eyebrow at you. "She cut her finger on it one day and it drank up her blood like a sponge. It was too late for her to back out then—she was bound to it." She waved a hand in your direction, and you clutched at the necklace. "And now you are, too. Your blood is the closest thing to Sena's, and you're the only one who can make it work."

You felt the blood in your face run cold.

"Don't look so surprised. That's why the demon kept you around."

Your head was spinning. "You're not making sense," you sputtered. Changmin—Changmin wanted to get rid of this as much as you did—but… but he hadn't. He hadn't, had he? "Why should I believe you?"

Mika frowned. "What reason would I have to lie to you?"

"You just murdered someone you worked with—"

"Oh, and you don't think he has?"

Your mouth snapped shut.

She leaned forward a little. "You and I, Yn, would never have to live in fear of the supernatural. The power that lies in your hands now, around your neck?" She started pulling herself to her feet, and you swiftly followed so you wouldn't be on the ground anymore.

You didn't need her to have any more advantage over you.

"It's priceless," Mika said, opening her arms wide. "You know what your little demon was going to do with the finished pieces of the amulet?"

"He was going to destroy the pieces—"

"He was going to take it for himself and use it to get back in his family's good graces," Mika corrected sharply. She took a step toward you, and you took one back. "You never suspected why he was so desperate to make sure you both 'finished what your sister started?'"

Oh god, you were going to be sick. You couldn't believe her—you weren't just going to believe her. Everything was spinning.

He was so insistent.

He was always so damn insistent. And he had never mentioned anything before about destroying the amulet.

The demon that day… it had addressed him as Your Disgrace. Oh God—

"I don't," you forced out, "believe you." Were you a fool? Were you a fool for believing in the goodness of a demon who saved you from death more than once, made sure you were fed and healing and happy and safe? Had you made a grave mistake?

Don't trust anyone.

Why hadn't Sena mentioned anything about Changmin?

"Then you're an idiot," Mika quipped. "Even Sena knew better than you."

"Oh, shut up," you snarled. You backed up all the way into the next room—the kitchen. Yn, look for a way out, damn it.

"He figured it out. That you were linked to it, and you were the ticket to accessing its power and the other pieces." You both came to a stand still. The ichor crusted over like caramelized sugar all over her face and clothes and hands.

"You have the third piece," you said tightly.

She shrugged. "Of course, I do. Money can buy you so many things."

"Clearly, it can't buy you a moral compass."

Mika barked out a laugh. "Oh, you're funny! It's almost a shame you're resisting; I'd hate to pick off another Ln sister."

"What—"

She pounced.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you moved out of the way, barely missing the graze of her knife. You gripped your own in your fist and swung it at her, adrenaline rushing through your veins and urging you to win—because who knew what would happen if you lost.

She came at you again with teeth gnashing and stained in blood that wasn't hers. You'd seen her take down that angel with a wild ruthlessness.

You caught her wrist as the counter dug into your spine, the point of her knife glinting in the kitchen lights.

"It brought me—" she grunted, applying more force down on you, "—no pleasure to do what I did to her, but she wouldn't—listen."

You bit your lip and got one leg free to kick her off you. "Fuck you!" You grabbed the vase behind you and chucked it at her head.

You heard the glass shatter, but hadn't seen the damage done as you made a dash for the front foyer again.

"Not so fast, little Ln—"

Something snagged into the back of your shirt, and you and Mika went tumbling to the stone floor. Your head hit the marble with purpose, a sharp pain piercing through your temple. Your vision blurred for a second and you put your hands out to fight for your fucking life.

"You killed her?" You caught her knife hand again and managed a slice with Clyde to her side as you shoved her onto her back.

"I wasn't—trying to," she grunted.

You yelped as she attempted to claw at your face, your head swerving out of the way just in time. "What the fuck does that even matter?"

"It wasn't my fault she was dumb enough to leave the bar." Mika kneed you off her body and your knife flew. You swore under your breath and she immediately fisted a portion of your hair and yanked you back toward her. "You should've seen the way she stumbled like a baby deer. Your older sister—such determination. That car didn't even see her until it was too late."

With ferocity, you knocked your head back against her face. You heard the satisfying sound of bones crack.

"Fucking Hell—"

You dove for Clyde, your fingers wrapping around the handle just in time to roll out of the way as Mika came down over you for a killing strike. Her knife struck the stone, and she growled at you, dark red oozing from her crooked nose, with one hand cradling her face. The vision of bared teeth and blood sent a shock of fear down your spine.

"You little—" she screeched, licking the blood off her lips and staining her teeth. "I'm going to have so much fun using your blood and bones for the amulet. Don't worry, it won't hurt—me."

You swore as she came at you again without abandon. She brought her knife down, time and time again, trying to catch you at some point.

Your blade sliced across her cheek, but hers caught you in the side. You felt it break skin, and you had little time to mourn over the sting in your stomach before you were rolling out of the way again.

You scrambled to your feet and with a war cry for encouragement, you charged at her, leaping onto her back and sending her crashing back to the floor. You grabbed the back of her head and smashed it against the floor. "You murdered my sister."

Mika screamed, and she used all of her adrenaline to flip you over onto your back. Bloodied and bruised, she drove her elbow into your gut, sending the wind straight out of your lungs. "The only thing I regret—" she said, turning over to face you with half her face drooling with blood and her mouth curled into a wicked smile, "—is that she won't be here to watch me skin you half-alive and use your body parts."

She crushed your knife hand under her knee, and you screamed as the pain made you see white. Mika pinned you beneath her weight with her knife raised high above her like an executioner's axe. "Goodbye, Yn. Just know that you had a choice."

You braced yourself for impact, head turned away and eyes screwed shut. At least you would see your sister soon, right? Was that some reprieve?

But the blow never came.

Your eyes fluttered open just in time to see a sword made of living shadows arc up in the air and slice across Mika's neck. Her eyes went wide for a split second, and you choked in horror as her dismembered head hit the floor with a dull thud.

Her headless body fell listlessly to the side. Dead and rigid.

Her blood was splattered all over your face and the stone floor, and you could taste the iron of it on your tongue. You gagged violently, a gross sob ripping out of your mouth.

Changmin stood over you with his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed like daggers, and Bonnie in his grasp. His limbs trembled, his body covered near head to toe in golden ichor and some dark trails of blood from himself. Gold stained his palms and crusted beneath his fingers, and feathers of varying colors stuck out of his hair dampened in sweat and more blood.

The sword clattered to the ground and you startled.

Relief came crashing over you and you attempted to push yourself off the ground, but crumpled under your near shattered wrist.

"Yn," Changmin breathed, collapsing onto his knees before you and crushing your face to his chest. You fell apart—oh god, it was the breaking of a dam. His grip tightened around you, cheek pressed against the top of your head. "Fuck, I thought I lost you. Hey, we're—shit, we're okay. I got you."

For a moment, you let yourself fall apart against him. All of the fear and adrenaline dissipated into body tremors and tears.

You could feel his grip on you loosen, and you took that as a signal to pull back.

You knew the signs well enough by now—how his eyes drooped and fought to stay open, how he swayed with his world tilting on its axis. "Changmin, how much energy—"

"Had to… had to get to you," he slurred. He crumpled, and you struggled to keep him upright with your one good arm. "I don't—know—I'll be fine."

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was your face, scrunched in worry, haloed by the lights over your head. Yeah, you were safe now, and so was he.

#15—FOUR LETTER WORDS.

JI CHANGMIN CAME TO GROGGY AND LIGHT-HEADED. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was, because the last thing he could remember was defeathering an angel prick one stupid bird feather at a time. He made sure each one hurt.

Why? Why had he done it? It was—it was for information. Information about what? …it was… it was about—you. He was trying to find where their friend had taken you. You—

His eyes shot open and he jolted upright, a groan escaping him at the way his entire body ached.

He collapsed back against the armchair he sat in and took in the room. He didn't recognize it at all. The drapes were too heavy and embroidered with gold flowers, the floor looked too polished and expensive. The couch sectional adjacent to him was made of leather too soft to be the one from Sena's safehouse.

The room was dimmed slightly with only the lamp next to him providing light.

He smacked his lips together as he recognized the taste on his tongue. It was metallic and thick; he'd tasted it before, could name it blindfolded at this point.

Where were you? You'd dripped blood into his mouth while he was out, hadn't you? He didn't remember drinking it or—

Something rattled when he tried to move his left arm.

He glanced down at his wrist hanging over the side of the armchair to find that he was cuffed to the lamp next to him with a sterling silver necklace. It was made of chunky links, the band twisted in a figure eight with his wrist in one side and the lamp in the other so it would tighten around him every time he tried yanking.

Smart.

He sighed. Great.

The sound of a throat clearing drew his attention away and to the far reaches of the living room. You stood just where the light touched you, one wrist wrapped in something like gauze and Band-Aids littering your face and body.

His chest tugged and lurched painfully at the sight of you. You were so badly hurt when he finally got to you, but he had got to you nonetheless. He had grabbed Bonnie and ran.

"Feeling better?" You asked him.

His voice was scratchy and he coughed. "Y—yeah. Kind of. I'll survive." He could feel his body stitching itself back together. He would definitely survive.

The angel bitches had reignited the pain in his broken ribs before, but it was slowly being mended again. They were all strange sensations.

"You're okay?" He asked, swallowing. He didn't know what he'd do if you weren't. You seemed okay standing so far away. Why had you… why had you chained him to the lamp? Why were you so far away?

Your nod was slow and you braided your arms over your chest. He noticed Bonnie leaning up against the wall next to you and the damned pendant still hanging from your neck. Only there was an extra chain beside it with the second half present too, the halves facing away from each other. "For the most part, yes," you said. "Scrounged up some things around the house to tape myself back together. Mentally and emotionally? That's a little different."

He had heard what Mika said to you right before he lopped her head off. "I can imagine. I'm sorry," he murmured. "I don't regret doing that."

"Beheading her?"

"Yeah, that." And he would do it a thousand times over if it meant you would live.

You glanced down at the floor for a moment. "I need you to be honest with me."

He let out a breath. "Okay."

"Why did the demon who attacked me at my apartment call you Your Disgrace?"

Changmin's blood froze over like the lakes in the seventh circle of Hell. Something akin to panic clawed at him from the inside and up his throat, and every instinct of his was telling him to shut down, reel back the drawbridge, and lock the gates.

But this was… this was you. You asked him to be honest. There was something in the way you looked at him, the careful mask you'd put on, that told him to fight whatever cowardice was trying to shine through.

He wrestled down another swallow. "My family—my father is a Duke of Hell. I'm the youngest of my family, but the only boy—" Changmin's knee bounced up and down to channel his nervous energy toward something else. "—and I didn't want the responsibility of being his heir or to be associated with any of that. I wanted freedom."

He could still remember the day he decided to run away. It was stupid that he thought he wouldn't get caught.

He bit down on his tongue so hard it bled. "Long story short, my sisters saved me from punishment, and my father did the one thing I wanted him to—disown me. I was banished from my home and exiled to the mortal realm." He pursed his lips and made a weak, vague gesture.

It wasn't a history he was proud of. For the first few years, it was all he wanted and more. But family was still family, and sometimes it was impossible to fill certain voids. Even for a demon.

Your voice carried across the room, "Did you ever consider trading the amulet to get back in your family's good graces?"

"How did you—"

"Yes or no."

His shoulder sagged. "Yes."

"Did my sister know?"

"Yes." He hated every single second of this conversation. Every yes he pushed out, he could feel your voice getting colder.

You cocked your head to the side. "Did you know how I related to the function of the amulet?"

"Yes," he said. "But it wasn't until you said it matched your heartbeat at the safehouse."

"And when did you plan to betray me?"

He gripped the arm of his chair. "I didn't—"

"Don't lie," you snarled.

His mouth snapped closed and he moved back like a flinch. His eyes shut for a second, before opening again to fixate on you. "I'm not lying," he drawled. "When I opened Sena's parting letter, I dropped any will to trade that thing to beings like my parents. I swear on my immortal life, Yn, I never intended to betray you at any point."

He didn't know how to get through to you. He didn't know how to convince you. Who was he but a creature of evil? He understood why you wouldn't be able to trust anyone, especially after the events of the past week. You were doing the best that you could… but fuck, you were so far away.

He'd fucked up.

You were quiet for a moment, and he couldn't read you. When he first met you, he thought he could read your thoughts and emotions like an open book. But now, it was near impossible.

"Okay."

A single word. Who knew four letter words could make him feel like this. "Okay?" He echoed, uncertain. Hope was so dangerous a feeling.

You nodded your head, shoulders lifting and dropping with exhaustion. "Okay," you repeated. "I believe you."

"You believe me? Why?" He asked against his better judgment.

You exhaled. "Well, for starters, you could have killed me like Mika tried to. You could have broken through that chain at any point, but you haven't. It's flimsy as Hell."

He glanced down at the silver chain around his wrist and gave it an experimental yank. It hadn't even occurred to him to break free; he hadn't the reason to. He was safe.

"And second," you continued, drawing his attention again, "you haven't given me any reason to not believe you." He didn't want to mistake the tenderness in your gaze now. Maybe he was seeing things. And it made his chest ache. "There have been so many times where you could have done away with me, but you always came back. For me, and not the necklace. I mean—keeping the necklace with me was one thing, but maybe I'm just stupidly convincing myself that you care."

Changmin shook his head in earnest. "It's not stupid." I do care.

You scoffed, raising a brow. "I sound like the dumbest person in the world, trusting a demon."

He hung his head for a moment, fighting for the right words. He grappled with himself, desperate and uselessly unable to describe the way he felt toward you because in demonic culture, this thing—this yank, this gravity he felt toward you—didn't exist. Demons used, stole, purged, devoured, but never whatever this was. This had to be wholly human.

"Yn," he began, feeling your eyes on him again, "I don't know what it is. And I can't describe it in a way that matters or might matter to you. But I'm—I'm… drawn to you." He wished he could shrink under your gaze, to be swallowed by the earth. Dear fuck, the way you pinned him down with that stare like you could see straight into his soul.

Changmin swallowed. "My chest aches, Yn. I don't know what it is, but it aches when I'm around you, and it aches when I'm not. It aches when you laugh, and it aches when you fucking say my name. And I—" He blew out a harsh breath, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he scavenged for the right words. He wanted it to matter because it had to. He wanted it to matter to you as much as it was coming to matter to him.

"I don't know what it is," he said again uselessly. "But I feel like you could just reach into my ribcage and I would let you. I would let you do whatever you want. Even if you—you wanted to just leave me here. If you would leave content and satisfied, then..." He would watch you go. But he didn't want you to. Please don't leave.

He wondered if he got the message across. He could barely possess half the meaning himself or wrap his head around it.

But he raised his head and watched you limp across the room toward him, his chest stuttering and stumbling the closer you came.

He could see you in the lamplight so much clearer now.

There were scratches all over your body, bandages littering your skin. But your eyes could devour him whole and he would sink forever.

You cupped his face with your good hand, and the organ in his chest flipped. There was a distinct softness to your touch, like the day your hand ghosted over his battered torso on the dock, and the way you tucked your cheek against his shoulder at the motel.

He shuddered, lips trembling.

"I love you, too," you said.

He knew you understood.

You pressed your lips against his, beautiful and perfect. Everything soft and tender he never thought he'd crave for all his life. It all melted into place. You were safe, and so was he.

The passenger side seat dug into your spine and your back molded against it like second nature. The sky was the color of darkened ash sitting at the bottom of a burnt fire pit, and the only light for miles around were the car's headlights. The road was barren, stretching on farther than your eyes could see. The time on the dash read a quarter past three in the morning.

Changmin sat behind the wheel with one hand steering and the other clasped between yours. Your dominant hand was wrapped up in a brace to support your broken wrist bones, and you'd replaced all your bandages with fresh ones. Bonnie was stashed in the back, and Clyde was tucked into your pocket as usual. Neither of you had any more of someone else's blood on your body, but you would feel the effects of the night's events for a while longer.

You were headed back toward Moonstone Creak. It was a place you looked forward to returning to, where Changmin knew you would be safe and happy, and where you knew you could be, too. Once you tied up matters at your old apartment, then matters about moving permanently could be settled.

You were playing it by ear, at this point.

Changmin's thumb ran over the back of your hand, gentle but with purpose. "You should sleep. It's a long way back."

The twin halves of the amulet hung from your neck with an equal, balanced weight. The third piece was tucked into your back pocket. You'd found it stashed among Mika's other accessories in her room. You and Changmin agreed it should be thrown somewhere over the side of a cliff. It needed to be lost and to stay lost.

Maybe you would give the second half to Changmin to wear.

"Why do you like blueberries so much?" You asked him instead of heeding his suggestion, as always. Your mouth opened to yawn, and he passed a sidelong glance at you.

He said, "They were the first thing I ate when I arrived on the mortal plane. They're a reminder of how far I've come."

You turned to him, and he met your gaze for a brief moment. "I didn't expect them to have such sentimental value."

The corner of his mouth curled upward. "That, and they taste good."

You smiled to yourself. "So about Bonnie—"

"I'm not teaching you."

"Asshole."

"Human."

You gave his shoulder a playful shove across the center console and he fought the grin on his face and lost.

He chuckled. "It was never an insult, by the way."

You settled back in your seat and curled your legs up. Brushing your lips against the back of his knuckles, you heard the breath that fell from his lips. "I know," you murmured.

a/n: i realize that you probably have questions... take it as an excuse to come visit my inbox! if you liked this, pls reblog :] thank you so much for reading mwah

[thecorpuscorpse]

okay... it's a bit unhealthy, so if you feel uncomfortable with that, feel free to ignore!

buuut. Possesive, jealous villain?

and they're obsessed with hero? maybe they gave hero a necklace, because they want to mark their territory, but hero refuses to wear it, since to hero they are nothing but enemies. and anyway, why would they wear their enemies necklace?

Villain is frustrated, and decides to take matters into their own hands by tattooing their name on hero's body, shushing them gently when they panic.

Good evening anon!

While it has taken me a while to come back to some of my asks and requests (I have not forgotten you all), I hope to be more active now that more of my personal life has balanced out.

I was more than intrigued by this ask, so I hope you enjoy what I came up with. As someone with quite a few tattoos myself, this was a fun concept to delve into.

Readers: you read the ask (I hope), beware if that is not content you wish to read.

Enjoy <3

#7- "Your Scar To Bear"

TW: Dub-Con, drugging, kidnapping, some fighting.

"What do you expect me to do with this?" Hero asked, their fingers laced with a gold chain.

"Well, wear it," Villain replied as they sipped their wine. Hero always looked better in gold, after all, even though they insisted on silver. "You know, around your neck, like that tie of yours?"

Despite the nonchalance of Villains quip, their light demeanor was perturbed by Hero placing the chain back in the box, and setting it back on the table beside their plate of food. Villain set down their glass, feeling the need to sit up a bit more to properly take the blow of rejection as Heros brows furrowed.

"What's the matter? Is it because it's gold? I swear, just try it with that top you know I like and-"

"No, it isn't that. I... don't trust that you didn't put a tracker in this," Hero said, turning about the small, monogrammed medallion with Villains initials. "I don't need you having the upper hand?"

"Upper hand?" Villain chuckled, leaning in a bit over the table. "You don't seem to say that when I've got my upper hand around your neck while the lower-"

"Stop it," they flushed, but their voice held a stern resolve. "This is what I mean, this is getting too deep for what we are."

Villain tensed up, brows furrowing with confusion at how the mood of everything seemed to change. Just moments ago, they were laughing in the kitchen, and now things were getting too deep? They clutched their napkin in their hand as they watched Hero stand from the table, running a nervous hand through their hair.

"What do you mean."

"This was supposed to be easy!" They lamented. "Stop your plans, put you in prison for the horrible things you've done, and now.."

"Now.. What." Villain said, rather than asked.

Hero took a deep breath before bringing their hands together, clasping them tightly. All of this drama, over a necklace? Villain didn't know what to think, and their patience with how Hero danced around their point was not helping their case. Weeks, things had been fine, months had been fine. Through the broken ribs, bruised cheeks and torn ligaments somehow led to tender kisses, feather-like caresses and sweet words.

This, however, was different.

A bitter, sour taste in their mouth.

"There.. will be a day one of us defeats the other." Hero picked up their jacket from the back of the chair. "And I don't know if I could look at something like that, knowing what I did to you."

They slipped on their coat as they watched Villain with an almost cautious eye. Their grip on the napkin was almost as tight as their jaw. How did any of this make sense? Why was it now that they were making the decision for them?

"What you did to me..." They moved to take another sip of their wine. "Right, all the things that haven't happened, but everything before has been fine," Villain sardonically mused.

"But what will happen will be worse! And having that necklace.. doesn't feel right..."

"Then why the fuck are you still here?!" Their voice crashed through the quiet with the glass they held, the shards skidding across the tile.

Villain moved from their side of the table, and for once, Hero put up placating hands to slow their movement. Much to their dismay, Heros arms were twisted up behind them and wrenched so hard the pain burned in their shoulders.

"V-villain, wait! You don't understand-"

"Oh, I understand," They huffed as they wrenched the door open and pushed Hero out. "Can't stand having a reminder of me when I'm dead, but you can live just fine doing everything else until it puts you at risk."

The door shut, and the banging only lasted a moment before rapid footfalls descended down the driveway and were replaced with distant barking. The thrill of a chase, what a feeling it was to embrace while it lasted all for it to come crumbling down.

All over a necklace.

Villain fed their dogs, cleaned up the dinner the two of them made together, and brought the wine bottle into their office with them. As they sat back in their desk, looking over the spacious room lit by a small wood fireplace, they decided to continue work on their next plan. They rifled through their papers, and noticed a couple of drawings were missing from their schematics list.

Villain sighed, a small smile betraying their sulky mood.

"So that's why they wanted it so badly in here.. Damn bastard..."

~~~

Everything had been going according to plan. Villain watched from their office at headquarters as the trucks headed out from the garage like ants in a row, only to see the first explode in the distance. The gunfire could have been mistaken for fireflies on the hill. There was a faint click of the door, and the familiar sliding metal of a hammer being pulled back.

"Is this it then?" Villain asked as they watched their men die. "Is this the great defeat? Or are you going to fuck me here again and vow vengeance for another time?"

"Villain..." Hero sighed "I wish it was different, I-"

"I said," They interrupted, turning around to face Hero. Their shirt had been unbuttoned, tie loosened, and pants unbuckled and unzipped. Below, black lacy swirls curled along their skin, and delicate ribbon work held the sides of the bodice together. On the front of each strap were little bells that jingled as Villain pushed their shirt to the side. Villain sauntered up to Hero, took the barrel of their gun and kissed the end.

"Is this it, or are you going to Fuck. Me. Here. again?"

The gun was thrown down in a moment, just as Villain was against their desk. Villain couldn't help be proud at their choice in lingerie- Hero liked textures, and that much was evident with how their hands traced along the patterns and ribbons. Held in place between smooth oak and the warm body of Hero keeping them pinned, Villain returned the feverish kiss Hero attacked them with.

Hands roamed into their hair, tugging at all the spots which made them gasp.

They tugged Heros lip to make them hiss and bit along their neck to make them sigh.

The desk groaned as they did when Hero pressed their hips together, pulling Villains leg up against their hip. There was hardly a moment for Hero to keep up, and was left utterly breathless.

Just the way Villain wanted them.

Hero didn't notice amongst their sounds the gentle hum of the ventilation kicking in. They weren't paying attention to how Villain slowed their breaths. It wasn't until there was a sway in Heros stance that their kisses to Villains neck slowed. As they pulled away, their dazed eyes sharpened to clarity as they saw Villain holding a small respirator to their mouth. They winked, and used their leverage to kick Hero down to the floor.

Their legs weren't working. They were seeing two.. three... four Villains? It was hard to think, and they couldn't believe they hadn't considered it would be this simple. Villain moved off the desk, buttoning up their clothes after securing the respirator.

"My, my... stealing my sketches of the atomic phasers I was shipping off and intercepting my delivery convoy. I must say, you had good intention, but you let yourself get carried away with temptation. They were shipped out this morning, you're far too late."

Villain crouched down, and gently squished Heros face in their hand to purse their lips. "You want to have office fun, we'll have some office fun. I'll see you when you wake up~"

~~~

The dreams were unlike any that Hero had before. In the line of safety, it didn't come without it's downfalls. Sometimes, not everyone could be rescued and it lingered with Hero on more sleepless nights than not.

People falling they couldn't quite catch.

People not making it through a building fire.

They couldn't bear the idea of Villain being one of them.

And so many more caused Hero to jolt awake at night. It wasn't like therapy was an option, and so Hero held it just like they held the rest of the world together. Whatever Villain used in their sedation mist amplified these nightmarish instances tenfold until finally, they woke up.

Yet, their body did not thrash, nor were they capable of doing so with the shackles on their arms, ankles and neck. The cold sweat of their body was warmed by a fire in the room, and the burning sensation they felt from their dream lingered in more ways than just in their mind.

Their skin burned, and from what Hero could see, they were shirtless and tethered to.. oh.

Oh, no.

"Hi, darling," Villain cooed sweetly, standing up from their chair with a rag to gently dab Heros forehead with a cool rag. "Another nightmare? I promise, I only sent out a dozen men, its nothing really."

"W-whats.. whats happening?" They asked tiredly. It felt like they slept forever, but it must have only been a few hours. The sun had long since set, and there were only dim lights illuminating Villains home office.

"Oh, I can show you," Villain hummed as they unclasped the neck restraint, allowing Hero to look down and see the half-finished chest piece sprawling under his collarbones. The ink was smeared everywhere, speckles of blood splattered about randomly, and a Villain looking very proud of themselves.

"You started moving, so I let you get it out of your system. And I knew how much you wanted to use my Saint Andrews Cross, so it worked out well, I think."

"I-I need you to s-stop, why..." Hero couldn't even tell what it was before the panic started setting in.

"Shh, shh..." Villains face went from soft and pleasant, to serious and focused as they brought a hand to Heros face. A thumb traced over their lips, and pushed in to drag against the teeth. Their eyes held onto Heros, which were likely glazed from having woke up or being on the brink of tears. Either way, they still looked pretty to Villain.

The moment Villain got their head down, they locked the neck restraints, leaving Hero to pull against the restraints in protest to no avail. The air stung, and Hero could feel their racing heartbeat through every thick line of the ink in their skin.

"Why?" Villain repeated as they filled every tiny jar to the brim with ink. "You have broken and scarred my body in so many unchangeable ways, Hero." More ways than they were able to discuss, but with how long they had left on this piece, maybe they'd talk about it now.

Villain dipped their pen into the ink, and moved onto the cross to straddle Heros hips. They wiped a small amount of moisturizer in the spot they were to work on, and readied their gun, but not before leaning up to look at Hero directly.

"V-villain! Please, you need to listen to me and-"

"This will hurt, and hurt for a long time so you know how it felt. This is my revenge, this is your scar to bear, and I suggest you not move if you want this to come out good," Villain cooed before giving Hero a slow, deep kiss before pulling away. "I have plenty of time to listen."

Villain started their piece again. Although Hero was tense, they maintained as steady of a physical composure as they could. Every swipe of the machine against their skin felt akin to having skin carved into, stripped away with every bit.

Low-impact skin, like the chest and inner limbs, all have heightened sensitivity. Every graze against a healed scar either went numb, or made Hero cry out in pain. All the while, Villain maintained their steadied hand, gentle hushes escaping their lips as they worked.

"V-villain this is t-too much, I can't-"

"'This is too much', 'this is too deep'," Villain listed dully with a sigh. "All of that over shit we can't control and yet you let it get that far with me because why?" They asked rather simply, a much more content composure compared to their dinner a few weeks ago.

"I... I don't regret it, if that is what you're asking."

"It's not, but I appreciate that. Why was a necklace the deal breaker for you compared to everything else?"

There was a nearly quiet moment, only filled with the buzz of the machine and soft whimpers from Hero every so often. It was possible they were just ignoring Villain. Sooner or later, they would come to find talking over the pain is a great distraction from it.

"Because I.. I don't know what to do when things get deeper," they sobbed softly as the machine dig against their chest. "With our careers, they have a set ending. I didn't expect that out of all the people I could love, it had to be you."

There was a brief pause in Villains work, allowing Hero a moment to breath. They gave Hero a gentle smile and wished they could caress that exhausted face of theirs. it wasn't like they didn't know it, but hearing out loud was always a much more jarring experience.

"And?"

"And.. taking the necklace, if it comes down to it and all I have is that to remind me I..." Heros voice hitched, either from what they could've said or the harsh buzz of the machine against their sternum. "I killed you, it wouldn't feel right."

Villain hummed with the tattoo gun, bringing the end up in light flicks for shading. Heros skin took the ink well, and despite the scars, they had a good feeling it would look even better when they were done.

"You don't think it would've been if I was giving it to you?" They retorted as they traced a finger along the inky, bloody skin. "I have been okay with you killing me in more than one occasion, yet you haven't. When will you ever?

"This will look so pretty on you, Hero. I know it hurts, but I'll make you feel so much better afterwards." Villain cooed through Heros soft sobs as the heavier shading ached more against their ribs. "This way, no matter when the time comes, you'll carry me always."

"P-please," Hero pulled against the cuffs, to which Villain had to pause with a quizzical face. "I-its.. its too big of a tattoo.."

Villain smiled, tilted their head and chuckled.

"Now, I've never heard you complain about something being 'too big'."

~~~

The hours went by agonizingly slow, and not in the metaphorical sense. By the time Villain was done with Hero, they were tatted up and teased throughout the grueling process. There was some reward for having learned their lesson.

Even if Heros legs were cuffed open, they were eager to have some relief after the ordeal upon asking, and the whines and cries in Villains office were a much different type than during the tattoo. When it was all over, Villain carefully undid the restraints, and dampened a paper towel with cold cleaning mix.

"You did perfect and you're going to love it," Villain hummed softly, pressing a kiss to Heros head before wiping the ink down carefully.

The cooling sensation overtook hero, the tension leaving their body almost immediately as a gentle hand carefully cleaned up the piece. Villain brought over a bottle of water, which Hero chugged down hurriedly, much to Villains amusement.

"Keep.. Keep doing that.." Hero breathed out, and Villain complied. With a smile, Villain ran the cool rag over the extensive piece with slow, attentive motions.

"Come on, lets get it wrapped up and something in your body before you pass out again," Villain urged, guiding Hero up from their stiff position and brought them to face the mirror.

Sprawling from one side of Heros collar to the other were great coils of a dragon that funneled down their chest and sternum, the head opening up below the pectorals. Each scale was detailed to the finest hatch mark, the tufts of fur were wispy, and the expression on the dragon looked.. powerful. it was a gorgeous tattoo, and Villain could see their amazement.

"Villain, this is... my god," they breathed. It may be a little tough to hide in the employee locker room, but they could lie.. hopefully.

"And," Villain walked up, and traced over a set of scales along the collar, and soon another set, until Hero realized the pattern spelled out Villains name. Once they saw it, they couldn't unsee it. They could almost faint now.

"I don't know what is going to happen to us, but I'll be more damned than I already am if you forget about me."

Hero looked from the tattoo to Villain, before sighing. They leaned in, and pressed a gentle kiss to their lips. "How could I ever forget about you?"

There was a smile. Maybe Hero wasn't out of the doghouse yet, but Villain did help wrap their new tattoo, and reheated the leftovers from the dinner, and thought of ideas on what they'd do had they not chosen a life of servitude and villainy. Hero would want something mundane. Without the attention or the tabloids.

Villain wanted to be an artist, but given the path that was chosen for them, their skill went designing weapons of destruction instead of creation. In a way, they did create, but it was not the kind they wished for, and did not have the desired outcome.

They went to bed that night, muttering about plans, and giggling about the future where an end never came in the quiet comfort of VIllains room. By noon the next day, the two had gathered what was stashed away in Villains safe, and both vanished without a trace or word to either governing agency.

[kabie-whump]

✧･ﾟ Ripe, About to Fall - Part 13 ✧･ﾟ

This is an 18+ slowish burn pet-whump story with added romance.

Title from 'Liquid Smooth' by Mitski

Series

First | Previous

Chapter Summary: Ventis is free, but believe it or not things are a little more complicated than that. Happily ever afters don't come easily.

Chapter Content: cauterization, drugs, drug addiction, rejected seduction attempt

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Onthyes wasted no time after Ventis’s body thumped into his arms. The genasi was clearly hurt - pale and barely conscious and covered in blood, but there was no time to do anything about it right then. This was their one chance.

So Onthyes ran.

Ventis’s head bobbed against his shoulder as Onthyes sprinted through the garden, the sound of Athos’s enraged screaming growing fainter and fainter. Ventis whimpered and made a weak effort to twist out of Onthyes’s arms and Onthyes just held him closer, whispering, “It’s okay. You’re okay now,” into his impossibly soft hair.

He slipped out of a garden gate just as a carriage pulled up on a nearby road. The door opened and Theodore appeared from the inside, waving Onthyes over frantically.

“He’s hurt,” Onthyes panted as he laid Ventis down on the padded bench.

The carriage jolted as it began to move, and Theodore came to kneel next to Ventis, pulling his robes away to reveal a stab wound in his side. “Shit. What happened?”

“Athos.” Onthyes tore away the bottom of a curtain, pressing the red velvet hard against the wound.

Ventis groaned, his eyelids fluttering.

“Can you heal him?” Onthyes asked, sparing a glance out the window to check for pursuers.

“No, I don’t practice healing magic. Only…” Theodore paused, considering something. “How far are we from your friend’s house?”

“A little over an hour. Why?”

“I could cauterize the wound. He might not last that long with us just putting pressure on it.”

Onthyes winced. He hated the idea of causing Ventis any more pain, but he knew it was necessary. “Do it.”

With a short nod, Theodore reached out and pulled the wad of velvet away from Ventis’s side. “Hold him,” he advised as his fingers began to glow with bluish energy.

Onthyes grabbed Ventis’s arms, holding him still. When Theodore touched the injury Ventis let out a scream, his legs kicking out as he tried to twist away from the source of the pain. The carriage filled with the sickening scent of burning flesh. Onthyes pressed his lips to Ventis’s forehead, whispering, “Shh. It’s alright. It will be over soon. Stay with us. You’re okay.” The genasi passed out fully moments later, and Onthyes and Theodore both let out sighs of relief.

They rode in silence after that. Theodore dozed off, his head lolling against the window as the swinging lantern cast flickering orange light across his face. Onthyes couldn’t bring himself to sleep.

It was the middle of the night when they finally arrived at their destination. Onthyes scooped Ventis into his arms gently, carrying him inside while Theodore paid the carriage driver generously - some gold for the ride and even more for his silence.

Shayah was waiting for Onthyes inside, ready to help him get Ventis into a spare bed, which had already been prepared for him. She had agreed to house them for as long as they needed and asked for nothing in return, and Onthyes had never been more glad for her friendship.

He had met Shayah during his time in the city guard. She was new then - a fiery half-orc who could lift more than half of their squad combined with her pinky finger. She and Onthyes had become fast friends, but she lacked discipline and it didn’t take long for her to get kicked out. They’d stayed in touch after that, but with Onthyes’s promotion to squad leader and eventual move to working in Athos’s manor they didn’t see each other much. Still, she’d accepted Onthyes’s request for aid happily when he’d gone to her a few days ago.

“So, this is him?” Shayah mused as Onthyes undressed Ventis. “He’s pretty.”

“He’s hurt.”

“I see that. I ain’t much of a healer, but I’ve got some supplies, and there’s some old clothes of mine in that dresser I don’t mind him wearing.”

“Thank you, Shy.”

“Don’t mention it. ” Shayah left the room, nearly running into Theodore as he entered. She patted him on the top of the head, between his horns. While his expression remained neutral, visible lightning crackled between his fingertips at the touch.

“Do you need me for anything?” he asked Onthyes, his voice hushed.

Onthyes shook his head. “No, I think Shayah and I can handle it for now. Thank you for your help tonight.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ve got business to take care of.”

“Where are you going? It’s the middle of the night.”

Theodore was already headed back the way he came, soon followed by the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Shayah helped Onthyes undress Ventis, carefully peeling sheer white fabric away from his blood and sweat soaked skin. The garment shimmered in the dim lantern light as Shayah folded it, gold and jewels clinking together.

She whistled. “It’s a shame - all the bloodstains. We could’ve made a fortune off of this outfit alone. Probably still could, honestly.”

“We should burn it,” Onthyes countered. “If we sell anything of Athos’s he might find out, and then it would only be a matter of time before he finds us.”

Shayah huffed. “You’re no fun, as always.”

They finished cleaning and dressing his wound, wrapping bandages around his midsection. Shayah’s clothes fit him about as well as a grain-sack would fit a mouse, but at least he seemed comfortable. Ventis would surely be hurting in the morning, but for the moment he was stable and firmly unconscious, which was good enough for Onthyes.

Onthyes settled into a chair at his bedside while Shayah turned in for the night. It felt surreal - seeing Ventis free and safe after many long months of planning and biding his time. It would be a lot of responsibility, helping him heal after everything he’d been through, but it was a responsibility that Onthyes was eager to take on.

His biggest concern was the nightspill. From what he’d gathered, Ventis has been taking it daily since even before he became Athos’s pet. It brought him comfort; an easy escape. It must have a firm hold on him by now, and it would surely be an ordeal to get him sober. Still, Onthyes didn’t think he could truly heal while he was still taking it, so it would have to go.

Then there was the matter of Ventis’s… conditioning. He’d mentioned it offhand a few times - the idea that he wasn’t a person, that he couldn’t see himself as a person.

When Onthyes had first proposed the idea of escape to him he’d laughed it off, insisting that he wouldn’t be able to survive outside of captivity. Onthyes believed him to a certain extent. He probably wouldn’t be able to adapt to life without his gilded cage; not without help, at least. Onthyes had no idea how much of Ventis’s apparent submission and subservience was a genuine part of his personality and how much of it was conditioned into him. He would have to be careful, lest he risk forcing Ventis to change himself in the name of what Onthyes believed his personality as a free man should look like.

Onthyes wanted Ventis to embrace his freedom, of course, but how could he do so without imposing his own beliefs on him, without controlling him just like Athos did?

Eventually Onthyes drifted off in his chair, his upper body slumped forward onto the bed, his hand inches away from Ventis’s.

Ventis was still asleep by the time Onthyes woke up. His complexion had a little more life to it than it had last night, but he clearly still had a long way to go before he could be considered “better”. Theodore was there, his back turned as he stood at the dresser and quietly busied himself with something Onthyes couldn’t see. The scent of sausages seeped underneath the door and into the bedroom and he could hear Shayah shuffling around in the kitchen.

“Morning,” Onthyes said through a yawn, sitting up stiffly. The way he’d slept had left his back sore and achy, but at least he had stayed by Ventis’s side. There was no way he would have found himself a more comfortable place to sleep and risked missing any changes in Ventis’s currently stable condition.

Theodore turned and Onthyes finally got a look at what he was doing. In his hands was a glass vial, filled with shimmering blue liquid. It glowed softly, casting a ghostly light up onto his face. Nightspill.

“Do you know how to do this, or should I figure it out for myself?” Theodore asked, picking up a syringe in his other hand. “Or maybe Jasper knows…”

Onthyes couldn’t figure out what to say at first. How could Theodore be handling that stuff so casually? “What? Where did you get that?”

“There’s a den nearby. I saw it from the carriage. I went last night and bought a few vials, since we didn’t manage to steal any from Athos.”

“But…” Onthyes shook his head, perplexed. “Why?”

“Jasp- sorry. Ventis takes it, remember?”

“Not anymore.”

“Hm?” Theodore’s brow creased in confusion.

“He can’t keep taking that stuff, Theodore. It’s not good for him. We talked about this.”

“Oh. I thought… When you said you wanted him sober I thought you meant in the future. As in, weeks or months from now. You want him to stop taking it right now?”

“Of course I do.”

“But that…” Theodore shook his head. “It won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“First of all, he’s far too weak right now.” Theodore moved to perch on the edge of the bed, the vial still in his hands. “I have doubts that he will be able to survive the withdrawals even going into them completely healthy. That hole in his side definitely won’t help matters.”

Onthyes bit down on the inside of his cheek, his gaze tracing Ventis’s face. There was a tension in the genasi’s muscles that suggested his sleep was less than restful.

“Secondly, I don’t believe that you and Shayah are prepared to face the consequences of him getting sober,” Theodore continued. “He may act human enough when he’s sedated, but the reality is that he’s not. I knew him before he started taking it. His magic is volatile. He struggled to control it on his best days, and on his worse days…”

Theodore took a breath, his gaze flitting away from Onthyes. “He got himself killed once, five years ago. He lost control of his powers - of his emotions, really. That’s what triggered it. His magic got away from him while he was on the palace roof and the winds pushed him off. Our physician resurrected him, of course, but he was never the same after that. That’s when he started using the nightspill, I believe. Faced with the pain of withdrawal, he might hurt himself or us if we aren’t prepared.”

“What do you suggest we do, then?” Onthyes asked bitterly. “Let him stay addicted to it?”

Theodore shrugged. “At least until he’s healed, yes. Then maybe you can suggest the idea to him. But don’t force it, especially not now. If you make him quit now it will surely kill him.”

Onthyes hated this. He hated this so much. But Theodore was right - Ventis was too weak right now to face nightspill withdrawals. “Fine. You’re right. He’ll stay on it for now. But forever is not an option. Not while he’s under my care.”

It was then that Ventis’s hand twitched, his fingertips scraping against the well-worn blankets. He let out a soft gasp of pain, his face twisting as he returned to reality.

“Ventis,” Ontheys said softly.

Ventis groaned, his eyes fluttering open. He started to sit up and Onthyes and Theodore both reached out to stop him.

“Don’t move,” Onthyes muttered, keeping a hand on his shoulder. “You’re hurt, remember?”

Ventis blinked hard, seemingly struggling to take in the room around him. “I… What? Where am I?”

“You’re at my friend’s house. You’re safe. Athos isn’t going to find you here.”

Ventis only seemed more confused. He tried to sit up again, then winced and settled back into the blankets heavily. “I jumped… I jumped off the balcony?”

Onthyes nodded, relieved that Ventis was beginning to remember what happened last night. “Yes, you did. I caught you, and we escaped.”

“He stabbed me.” Ventis’s hand drifted to his side, hovering over the bandages. “It hurts.”

“I know.” Onthyes took his hand, drawing it away from the wound slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“My medicine?” Ventis looked up at Onthyes, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “I didn’t bring any. It all happened so fast.”

Theodore had shrunken into himself as Ventis woke up. Onthyes had gleaned from talking with him that the brothers weren’t exactly on friendly terms, and he could tell that sharing in this vulnerable moment with Ventis had him wanting to crawl out of his skin. Still, he cleared his throat, holding out the vial of nightspill. The liquid lit up as it shook in the vial, and Ventis’s eyes locked onto the blue light with uncharacteristic intensity.

“I got you some,” Theodore said.

Ventis heaved an audible sigh of relief as he rolled up his sleeve with shaking fingers. “Thank the gods.”

The vial was passed to Ventis, who took it reverently. He stared at it for a long moment, then looked back up to the other two. “I do not know how to do it myself,” he admitted sheepishly. “My mast… he always did it for me.”

Theodore and Onthyes shared a look. Theodore clearly didn’t know how, and Onthyes would never ask Shayah to, given her uncomfortable history with the substance. That left him.

“I watched Athos do it a few times. I’ll try,” Onthyes offered reluctantly.

Ventis shuffled closer to Onthyes, his fingers cold as he handed him the vial. Onthyes drew the contents into a syringe carefully, then took Ventis’s arm. “Try to relax,” he muttered.

Ventis nodded, but his breaths were too quick, his muscles too tense. Onthyes didn’t blame him for being anxious. He would be nervous if someone with absolutely no experience was trying to inject him with drugs too.

The genasi turned his face away as the needle touched his arm. “Try not to miss,” he whispered.

Onthyes tried to repeat what he had seen Athos do a few times before, finding a vein on the inside of Ventis’s elbow before inserting the needle at a shallow angle. There was a moment of resistance before it slid home. Ventis flinched.

Slowly, Onthyes pushed down on the plunger, watching the blue glow follow the spider-web pattern of Ventis’s veins under his skin until it dispersed completely. Ventis sighed, his eyes falling closed as his body finally relaxed.

Onthyes removed the needle, feeling a little sick. He really hadn’t wanted to do that. It was a connection with Athos that he had never imagined himself having. He helped Ventis settle back into the pillows, and soon his breaths evened out into a deep sleep.

Ventis slept through most of the day after that. In the meantime, Onthyes stayed by his side while Shayah went to the market to buy food for the four of them as well as some new clothes for Ventis. Theodore had wanted to accompany her, but he hadn’t even made it all the way to the market before the pair had had to duck out of the way of some patrolling guards and tear down multiple posters of him, Onthyes, and Ventis. The three of them surely wouldn’t be able to appear in public for quite some time.

By that evening Ventis was awake and sitting up in bed, finally alert. Onthyes got him to eat, but the genasi only had a few bites before claiming to have lost his appetite. Onthyes wished he could know what was going on in his head. It must be so strange - being free for the first time in all these years.

That night, after Shayah had gone to her bedroom and Theodore had fallen asleep on the couch, Onthyes laid out some blankets and pillows on the floor of the spare bedroom, just past the foot of the bed Ventis occupied. He kneeled on the light padding, humming to himself as he arranged the fabric to make a makeshift bed.

“What are you doing down there?”

Onthyes paused, looking up at Ventis who peered down at him from the bed. “Just… getting comfortable,” he said.

Ventis tilted his head, the crystals on his cheek glinting. “When I said you could sleep in here with me I had no intention of banishing you to the floor.”

“Oh. You mean…?”

“Yes, hero,” Ventis said with a soft laugh. “Join me. I will not bite.”

Onthyes was careful to give Ventis his space as he climbed into the bed, slipping under the covers but keeping a respectful distance from him. Even then, he was hyper-aware of the mere inches of space between them.

Ventis turned onto his side face Onthyes, the tip of his horn pressing into the pillow under his head. Their faces were so close like this and Onthyes couldn’t help but recall the night of their first escape attempt, that tiny moment when their lips had brushed - so short that Onthyes hadn’t had a chance to react. Ventis seemed to be thinking about it too, his gaze flicking between Onthyes’s eyes and lips.

Onthyes turned onto his back and decided it would be best to just stare at the ceiling until he fell asleep. Then he heard Ventis huff, felt his cold hand on his opposite cheek, turning his face towards him so they were looking at each other again.

Ventis had shifted closer and now he moved in slowly, his eyes fluttering closed. His lips parted slightly…

Onthyes jerked back.

Ventis opened his eyes, frowning as he stared at Onthyes. “What?”

Onthyes cleared his throat, his heart pounding in his ears. “I… We can’t.”

Ventis smiled softly and started to lean in again. “We’re alone. No one’s stopping us this time,” he whispered.

“But we shouldn’t. You’re injured.”

“I can barely feel it.”

Of course. The nightspill probably numbed the pain. But it also numbed his emotions, his ability to think clearly. Onthyes would be taking advantage of him if he let this happen.

“You’re high.”

“I can still perform, I promise.”

And yes, maybe the low, sultry way he said that made Onthyes’s blood run hot, but he knew better. He had to control himself. “No. I can’t. It’s just not right.”

Ventis finally scooted back, letting go of Onthyes’s face with a sigh. “I don’t… I don’t understand. You worked so hard so you could have me to yourself and now you just… You don’t want me?” There was genuine hurt and confusion in his voice.

Was that really what Ventis thought? This whole time, did he really think Onthyes just wanted to take him for himself, to own him just like Athos did? He tried not to feel hurt, but it still stung. He thought he’d made it clear that he was better than that, that he didn’t see Ventis as something to be owned.

“Ventis…” Onthyes bit his lip. He didn’t want to lie. It would surely be a lie for him to say he didn’t hold any desire for Ventis. “It’s not like that. I… I care about you. And yes, I am attracted to you. But I don’t think it would be right for us to do anything right now. I want you to decide that you want this, not just out of some feeling of obligation but out of genuine desire on your part.”

“But I do want this,” Ventis insisted.

“I just can’t trust that you really mean that right now. How do I know that this isn’t the nightspill or Athos’s conditioning talking?”

Ventis’s face fell. “It feels real. It’s real to me.”

They lapsed into silence for a moment. Onthyes didn’t know what to say. He wanted Ventis, really. But he just couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t be taking advantage of him. He was still a pet only yesterday. But how could Onthyes decide that he was the only who could tell Ventis what he really wanted? His values were at war with each other.

Sighing, Ventis turned onto his back, the motion making him wince. His hand drifted to his side, pressing gently against his stab wound.

“I’m not saying no,” Onthyes started softly.

Ventis glanced over at him. “I’m listening.”

“I’m just saying… Not right now.”

“Then when, Onthyes? I want this, but I don’t want to wait around for you to decide that you believe me when I say I’m ready.”

“When you’re sober,” Onthyes decided. “If something happens between us I want you to be in your right mind. Get sober, and then maybe I’ll give you what you’re asking for.”

Ventis hummed. That clearly wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “Alright. We’ve waited this long. I guess we can wait a little longer.”

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Next

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-whumpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet

@sleepyiswhumping @bitchaknso @unicornbeck @wounds-seen-and-unseen @3-2-whump

@looptheloup @lindsay00000008 @rainydaywhump @scoundrelwithboba

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hey nalyra!

I was hoping you could sort of help put some thoughts in order.

So, what I keep seeing often is the discourse of lestat deserving the murder night vs lestat did not deserve it and that's why paris happens.

On one hand I agree murder night "needed" to happen bc the household had turned too toxic for all of them and something had to give ( and lestat did not seem about to relent on anything tbh ).

And then we have lestat himself saying he would have done the same thing and in a way its his fault things ended up the way they did. ( and we have sam saying lestat needs to be humbled to start a character journey in the next seasons)

On the other hand, there is the argument that paris happened because lestat did not deserve what happened in murder night and murder night was a mistake that claudia and louis paid for with the trial.

I find it hard to agree with the latter (it sounds too punitive and I don't think the trial had anything to do with actual rules it was all armand getting back at lestat and getting louis to himself) but as a lestat fan it was hard to watch murder night and say lestat deserved it as well!!

What are your thoughts on this whole mess? 🤔 😅

Okay, so... I personally think it is not that clear cut.

Because there are a lot of things involved in all of this.

For one - I keep saying - the abuse itself is in the book, so Louis did experience it as abuse, at least at times.

Now, Jacob has said that Louis "presents Lestat as a monster", because he is hurt by what happened. So Louis exaggerates (at the very least a little bit) - for reasons.

However, a tale is also always built on truth.

The Lestat in the book was very young still, and had a temper (well, he does not lose that, lol). Louis remarks on not saying something because he feared Lestat would destroy the parlor in a rage. They fight. And so on. Canon. The Lestat in the show is older, and jaded through loneliness - I personally think that is a great way to introduce the more bitter parts of the relationship, because it lends towards possessiveness and a certain remoteness, because he just sees it very, very differently to Louis, and sometimes cannot really empathize with Louis' actual problems. (Sam notes on that in the podcast, too.)

Now. When Lestat says in TVL that Claudia attacking him was "something he might have done himself"... then that refers to him trapping her in a too small, too fragile, too weak body - for eternity.

He knows he should not have made her. He is aware of that. That is what he refers to there:

From TVL:

But what had I done to Claudia? And when would I have to pay for that? How long was she content to be the mystery that bound Louis and me so tightly together, the muse of our moonlit hours, the one object of devotion common to us both? Was it inevitable that she who would never have a woman's form would strike out at the demon father who condemned her to the body of a little china doll? [...] And on a warm sultry night in the spring of the year 1860, she rose up to settle the score. She enticed me, she trapped me, and she plunged a knife over and over again into my drugged and poisoned body, until almost every drop of the vampiric blood gushed out of me before my wounds had the precious few seconds in which to heal. I don't blame her. It was the sort of thing I might have done myself. And those delirious moments will never be forgotten by me, never consigned to some unexplored compartment of the mind. It was her cunning and her will that laid me low as surely as the blade that slashed my throat and divided my heart. I will think on those moments every night for as long as I go on, and of the chasm that opened under me, the plunge into mortal death that was nearly mine. Claudia gave me that.

From Merrick:

Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; she died young. I winced at the recollection. Lestat had been condemning himself when he'd spoken those words to her, he'd been offering himself up to her rage. She'd known it.

And here is the crux of it all: "murder night" does need to happen in the grand scheme of things in order to bring both Louis and Lestat onto their journey... they both need to get a reality check, both need to be hauled low so to speak to be able to ultimately heal and the justification is what was done to Claudia (not Louis). And to find peace with themselves.

However, and here is the "problem", if you will - this crime against nature, against Claudia was not only done by Lestat. And that is what her diary entry from "Merrick" is about, and what I believe we already saw hints for in the trial scene when she turns to Louis... Claudia blamed both. "It was never about me." And we saw that already in the show when Claudia argues with Louis before leaving in episode 5, too.

She decided to go and try to kill Lestat, because she thought she could handle Louis more easily.

From Merrick:

To do away with Louis would be foolish, as he is without question the more malleable of the pair. [...] Louis will do as I wish, even unto the very destruction of Lestat, which I plan in every detail. Whereas Lestat would never cooperate with my designs upon Louis. So there my loyalty lies, under the guise of love even in my own heart.

Now, don't get me wrong, I concur with Bailey and Delainey in that Claudia is very justified in her rage, imho :) And... both Lestat and Louis feel the same way, they carry the guilt of what they did to her until the very end.

Now, Paris.

Paris... did happen because Louis and (mostly) Claudia factoring things in) did make a mistake.

They thought (mostly Claudia, and the show hints at that in that episode 6 sex scene when she says to Louis that they "cannot be all like him") that Lestat was the worst.

Like the big bad vampire™, the worst of the worst™, and him (certainly) making mistakes or having a temper or even physically fighting with Louis was the absolute worst that could possibly happen to them.

And that... is the (big, fatal) mistake that is being made.

The show gave us Lestat already brushing Paris off, so I believe show Louis will be a bit more... careful when they get there. A bit more reluctant. Nonetheless, neither Claudia nor Louis are prepared for the old world covens. Or their rules.

Lestat kept them mostly human, a family, because Marius had advised him to do so.

Claudia and Louis, despite their run-ins with the revenants, have no concept of the rules, the viciousness, nor the strength to defend themselves.

They kill off their only protection (so to speak) - and will pay for it.

I believe in one of the interviews it was called "out of the frying pan and into the fire", and that is, unfortunately, very fitting.

That is why "murder night" was a mistake... in Claudia's calculation.

Louis will come to the realization that he "hated Lestat for the wrong reasons" in the second half of IWTV. He will come to a lot of realizations, painful realizations, unfortunately.

Ultimately, it boils down to this, I think (very simplified):

No, Lestat (probably) did not deserve "murder night" for what Louis tries to argue for in s1. Because those reasons will turn out to be the wrong reasons, unfortunately, and likely for a variety of reasons (cue "tinkering" and "suppressed memories")

Yes, Lestat (probably) deserved "murder night" for not heeding Marius' warning. For not trying hard enough, too, maybe. For condemning someone that young. For trapping Claudia (and, by extension Louis) like that.

"I should have listened to Marius's warning. I should have stopped for one moment to reflect on it as I stood on the edge of that grand and intoxicating experiment: to make a vampire of "the least of these. " I should have taken a deep breath."

But he did not.

And the tragedy unfolds.

[lavendergaaayze]

I've been thinking a lot about The Alchemy lately. One of the many, many things I love about Tay is how many different angles we can view songs from.

I have been toying with the idea that this song is about her preparing for her last beard with the ogre. miss ma'am loves to break records and she can do so with the heteronormative society and a big ol' distraction. there are a lot of meathead references in here too but just like So High School, i don't think it's positive or endearing.

this happens every few lifetimes

with so much death and rebirth in her work, I interpreted this as every bearding situation being a lifetime and now we're starting a new lifetime

these chemicals hit me like white wine

which chemicals? likely, the Forget Him medication from Fortnight MV. this can be the promise of success, this can be entering back into the closet; but essentially there had to have been an BIG incentive or push. and even moreso, it was something Tay really had to swallow but was not her choice--it was prescribed by the ward. and this "Forget Him drug" could bring forth Taylor Swift The Brand. Taylor Swift The Brand comes with a manic high, a hunger for success, a desire to push through whatever she needs to overcome. there's probably lots of spite in there too.

in addition, wine drunk is super different! wine brings a warm carelessness. personally, wine makes me feel like i'm a bad bitch and life isn't that serious.

what if i told you i'm back?

the hospital was a drag

worst sleep that i ever had

they let her out of the hospital, but only when she was medicated. she's "fixed"!

i circled you on the map

a TK reference because so many dummies said he put HER on the map (fucking as if). this is one of her little jabs at him saying, "nah, bro. i put YOU in the spotlight"

(note that these 4 lines feel like a conversation with someone that you're trying to prove something to)

i haven't come around in so long

but i'm coming back so strong

she hasn't had an in-your-face PR relationship for years. so this is her giving herself a little boost. i haven't done this in a while, but i can do this and i can do it even better than before. i feel this especially because it's right before the chorus where she goes:

so when i touch down

call the amateurs and cut 'em from the team

ditch the clowns, get the crown

another jab at her beards and at TK's sad attempts to get others to put him on the map. MH is an amateur, he did not lead Taylor to the success she was looking for. TK had no luck liking baddies instagram pictures to weasel his way into the industry. but who did that? Taylor Alison Swift: The Mastermind. note how she's focused on the crown, not the actual "muse"

Baby, I'm the one to beat

'Cause the sign on your heart

Said it's still reserved for me

i took this as a line to her fans. so many people tune in to the big headlines because we, as a society, have a weakness to be fascinated by/addicted to the drama. especially taylor swift drama! our hearts are still reserved for any juicy tea she might have

honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

this feels like an act of acceptance and a little defeat. don't forget, taylor is still on those chemicals that hit her like white wine. so she succumbs to the fact that the world's biggest pop star and an award-winning NFL player would definitely make for lots of success. this is why she came back, to come out on top. i've seen others comment on the fact that she uses alchemy instead of chemistry. (they have the same end rhyme and the same syllables so alchemy was very intentional.) they're making gold out of robust situations, they're not sharing energy with one another.

hey, you, what if i told you we're cool?

that child's play back in school

is forgiven under my rule

i haven't come around in so long

but i'm making a comeback to where i belong

this next verse reminds me of the structure of the first verse. the first 3 lines feel like a sense of defending actions to someone else while the last two feel like another act of self-perseverance and having to hype herself up.

he jokes that, "it's heroin, but this time with an 'e'"

i really can't see this as anything other than a jab at the meathead. those illiterate tweets of his surfaced and we all found out he really is an idiot.

this line does confuse the hell out of me otherwise. if anyone has any thoughts i would love to hear!

where's the trophy? he just comes runnin' over to me

i know a lot of people find this endearing saying he chose her over the trophy. but i think it's Taylor asking "where's the trophy?" with her eyes on the prize still. and the dummy loses sight of what they are actually after

she's "high" on those Forget Him drugs throughout this whole song because she finishes the song with the same two lines she opened with.

but, yet, here we are again: swiffers thinking she's being cutesy with some dude but in reality this is about her and her success.

this song all feels like work. i don't know if anyone else played the alchemist game where you start with the most basic materials and have to make all kinds of substances, eventually getting to gold. and, man, was it challenging. just like i can imagine it's challenging to make this dirtbag into a "glamorous gentleman."

anyway! this was way more in depth than i thought it was going to be but i hope this leads to more confidence to post more OC! thanks for the read <3

[hiskillingjar]

Can we please get some more Fem!Lawrence/Lauren- i love how you write her and it's nice to see another person HC her as trans!fem 🥺

i watched audition last night so i had some thoughts about eyeballs and putting things in em :)

900+ words, gore warning for gross eye stuff, this page supports weird, psychosexual trans people

"Your eyes…"

Lawrence's voice was a calm, soft sort of mumble as she inched up closer on your lap, her long skirt riding up her thighs, exposing black, wool socks that were pulled up to her bony knees, not high enough to hide her self-harm scars, raised pink and white skin like cracks in porcelain.

You let out a helpless gurgle as she grabbed your cheeks firmly in one hand, your tongue a dead weight, a limp, barely writhing creature in your skull, behind your teeth.

A stream of spittle and drugged tea trickled from your numb, parted lips and ran down your chin and neck, as the half-empty tea cup clasped between your fingers tumbled and fell to the floorboards with a clatter of cracked ceramic.

Lawrence pushed your head up against the back of your seat, staring inquisitively into your dead eyes, her own doe-grey and curious.

"They make you look like a corpse," She mused softly, running a spindly finger down your cheek and tilting her head to the side as she admired you. "Like you're dead. Ha...haha," She chuckled lowly, biting her chapped bottom lip to hide a big smile as her grey eyes began to sparkle. "It's nice. I'm used to dead things, you know. They're easy. Easier than living things, anyway."

You felt your heart beat faster behind your rib cage when you saw her smile.

Lawrence so rarely emoted in any significant way. Maybe you'd catch a shy smile, a crinkle of her eyes, a frown showing between her brows, but never anything like a laugh or a full on grin.

It scared you.

You willed for your body to move desperately, but it was still paralyzed completely. You couldn't even blink or close your eyes.

"Mm, but maybe I don't want you dead. Not yet, anyway." She then continued, her finger tracing upwards, the course pad of her fingertip running against the sensitive skin of your thin eyelids. You didn't even flinch. "Maybe I don't want you to be a person at all, living or dead. Not an animal, either, or...or…even a plant."

Her voice was soft and dreamy as she ran her finger downwards, stroking each of your eyelashes. You remembered why you fell for her in the first place as she touched you so gently, her chapped lips parting with a quiet sigh, like she was revelling in something truly beautiful.

"You're more of an inanimate object right now," She concluded, pressing her finger against the milky white of your eye and making your tear ducts water. "Like a toy or a doll." She scratched the bitten ridge of her fingernail against your eyeball painfully, making your eyes tear up even more and forcing another helpless gurgle from your lips as your fingers spasmed against the armrests of the chair.

"Yes, yes…a doll."

An eerie smile came to her lips, broad and toothy, not touching her eyes, like the bottom half of her face was completely removed from them, as she pressed her finger into the socket of your eye, up until the first, bony knuckle.

Your own fingers kept spasming as your lips parted in a wordless cry, but you still couldn't move.

But you could feel the pain.

You could feel the way your eye was rupturing and leaking down your cheek, you could feel the blood start to pool in the gap as she wiggled her finger deeper into your eye socket, you could feel the burning sensation of every nerve on fire as she did so.

"Maybe that's what I should do," She mumbled airily, pushing her finger a little deeper, her other hand cupping your cheek and keeping your head still. "Pluck out your eyes and replace them with glass. So you look like a real doll for me, hm?"

She tittered airily, the eerie smile still on her lips as she pulled her finger out of your eye, bringing it up to her mouth and giving it a delicate, little lick.

"Mm…I can't decide," She mumbled, leaning in a little closer, bringing her face against yours. "I can't decide, I can't decide...if I should kill you now, or make you suffer through it."

She was so beautiful up close, you thought.

Her skin was so pale (almost milky white in the glow of the evening), her grey eyes were blown wide with arousal, and her blonde hair was gradually freeing itself from her messy bun and framing her face artfully, a true beauty, like a Venus, an Aphrodite, an Ophelia.

She pressed her lips up against your cheek and slid her pink tongue upwards, lapping up the mess of blood, tears, and intraocular fluid before she pressed her tongue into the space her finger had made at your tear duct.

You gripped the arms of the chair tight, silently thrilled that you had that much control of your body, a ragged cry creeping out of your throat as she laved her tongue over your watering eye, using her grip on your cheek to jerk your head to the side and give her a better angle to taste you.

"Mmmm," She moaned, shifting her hips forwards, pressing the beginnings of an erection against your crotch, her tight boy shorts doing absolutely nothing to hide the straining lines of her hard cock. "You taste perfect...maybe I should keep you for as long as possible." She reached down with her free hand to palm herself, groping and rubbing the bulge in her shorts. "So I can make you truly suffer for me."

[yoitsjay]

Blossoms In Court

Pairings: Hunter x Gn!reader

Summary: the tension between you and Hunter gets to be a little to much for you and you snap, and your trip to pirates cove doesn't make it better.

Warnings: non described SA, drugging, cannon violence, mistakes /misunderstandings, mentions of a curse, angst

Word count: 3,780

It had been a few days now at sea since the Pirate Gamshire’s treasure was found and now safely in the hands of Hunter. In those few days the seas had been calm, and minus the occasional spatter with an Imperial ship, no major harm had befallen you and your ship on this journey.

However, that didn’t stop tensions from rising between you and Hunter. But on the island, every time you’d help hoist the sails or swung from the ropes on the masts, you could always feel Hunter’s nervousness almost. And every time you slipped, or was about to fall Hunter was there to catch you.

It didn’t make you mad, more frustrated than anything. You didn’t know why he was always there to catch you when you fell, or why he didn’t just let you fall so your crew could laugh about it. But whatever was happening between you and Hunter? it was making you nervous… and that pit that you always felt in your heart was starting to grow bit by bit, every time he looked at you and smiled or even touched you…

You were currently holed away in your room for the time being, going through your wardrobe, tossing blouses and tunics on the ground. ALl your clothes needed a good wash, but it was an especially hot day today…

“AHah!” You exclaimed, pulling out a one piece outfit, with a false shirt with frilled sleeves and false gold gilded into the fabric on the shoulders which were padded.

You changed into the outfit immediately, starting off with the one piece jumper, the pants were not loose but they weren't body tight either. The top part of the one piece was more open with it being sleeveless, however the top resembled a sleeveless turtleneck, minus the turtleneck part. The top of the jumper just sat around your collar bones. The back had to be tied up in order to actually get into the suit but you had no issue tying a little blow in the back before wrapping your white sash around your waist to match the white false shirt.

The false shirt you slid on top, adjusting the frilly sleeves and the padded shoulders so it sat more comfortably, fiddling with the stiff collar of the shirt so it didn’t feel like it was about to choke you. And finally you clipped on your leather belts and weapons, and then slid your second pair of boots which went thigh high instead of knee high.

Once all buckled up you made your way over to your herbs and steeped oils, rummaging through the myrrh and bergamot before finding the calendula steeped oil, which you took a drop of on your finger and lightly dabbed it on your neck and onto your wrists before nodding in satisfaction.

You stepped out of your room, the heat of the sun glaring down on you almost immediately. you squinted, using your hand to shield your eyes as you looked at the crew, who were mainly lounging about, playing games and the like.

You walked down to where Phee and Tech were stationed at the wheel, nodding to Tech out of politeness before turning to Phee. “What’s the news?” You asked her, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well we are definitely back on track, but it's going to take a few extra days to reach The Red Death, especially if we want to make that stop in pirates cove to get that fleet.” She explained. Humming in response, you take a look at the small map Phee has in her hands, looking at the course she had drawn up.

“I can only use that deed once…” You trailed off, rubbing your chin in thought. “What if we stay on course, and we don’t go to Pirates cove and head straight for The Red Death… and I'll challenge Captain Red to a duel. Winner takes the loser's ship and crew.” You mused, Phee however shook her head. “No way! sorry, but I don't think you're skilled enough to take on Captain Red on your own.” Phee argued.

You narrowed your eyes, and she did the same, crossing your arms at each other too, like this little staring contest would get you anywhere but a staring contest. ALbeit you did have a nasty glare and Phee took a step back before sighing. “It would be suicide Y/n. Just use the deed to get the fleet and we can beat The Red Death all together.” Phee pleaded.

You sighed, not saying yes to her, but dropping the idea for now. You made your way down the steps and onto the main deck, looking around at the men, who were still minding their own business until you gave them orders. You looked up at Phee, nodding. “Set course for The Pirate Isles! we will be there in three days.” You ordered, turning your head as you spotted Hunter, who was looking at you in kind, however his face held concern.

You nodded to him, as if to reassure him that you were okay before you walked towards your office. Hunter followed you, closing the office doors behind him, watching as you sat down at the table.

“Are you okay cyar’ika?” He asked, using another word in a language you didn’t understand. “No… maybe?” You questioned, resting your head in your hand as you fiddled around with the dagger on the table. “I don’t know Hunter. I'm confused…” You trailed off, noticing that he was now seated beside you, arms folded on the table as he leaned forward to look at you.

“About what?” He asked, and you simply frowned in response. “About what I'm going to do about Captain Red when I see him… confused about where I stand around you…” You trailed off, leaning back into your seat now, still playing with the dagger. “Confused about me? why?” Hunter asked, his own confusion lighting up his features now.

You groaned, staring directly into his eyes. “Ever since Gamshire’s island I feel like you’ve been acting differently to me. more protective i guess and it’s just confusing me. Like i can tell what all my men are thinking, and they’re honest with me… with you, i- i can’t tell what your thinking when you look at me, or when you save me from tripping or falling…” You trailed off, gripping the dagger before slamming it into the table.

“Stop it. Stop touching me, and looking at me like- like that! you saved my life and i owe you, but you can't stack what i owe you by making sure my ass doesn’t get bruised! so quit trying to save me Hunter.” You spat, standing up and storming out of the office.

Hunter’s eyes were wide, he had no idea what just happened… one moment you were fine… regardless he sighed. If you wanted him to stay away, he would stay away… and you were right, because he didn’t even know what he was doing either… but all he could think of when he looked at you, and when he caught you from slipping or falling was how he never wanted you to leave his arm-

“Damnit Hunter… kriffing stupid man.” He cursed at himself, rising from the chair he was in before he left too, ignoring his brother's curious looks as he made his way down to his bunk below deck. Maybe he needed more rest, to clear his mind…

You kind of had the same idea, storming off straight into your bedroom, locking the door before flopping down onto the comfortable mattress, a groan leaving your lips. “Dumbass… you shouldn’t have shouted.” You muttered to yourself, rolling over and now laying on your back as you rubbed your face.

You heard a knock at your door, a groan leaving your lips. “What? who is it?” You asked, making no move to get out of your bed. “It’s Phee… what happened hun? Everyone heard you shout. and now i'm more worried about ya.” Phee explained. You huffed but pushed yourself out of bed, unlocking the door for Phee, opening it before spinning around and falling right into your bed again.

Phee entered, closing the door behind her. She walked over to you, sitting down in front of you, fixing some of your hair and moving it out of your face. “I feel bad… i didn;t mean to shout at Hunter… I guess I've just been really overwhelmed with the deed, having almost died if it wasn’t for him… Phee I haven't felt this way about a person since…” You trailed off, but Phee knew who you were talking about.

“Since Vexandria, Captain Red’s daughter… I know.” Phee sighed, moving her hand to your back as she started to rub it. You moved away for a moment, shifting your body so you were laying on your back again, looking up at your sister as a tear fell down your cheek. “I don’t know what I'm doing…” You whispered, and Phee immediately scooped you up into her arms, hugging you tightly.

“I’ve seen the way you look at Hunter… and the way he looks at you… You could have a bond that no other pirate could ever dream of having. I think you should embrace it hun, because you never know when the next blow might land, and that blow could ruin you, or him, and you’ll never have gotten to experience whatever could bloom between you and Hunter.” Phee whispered, patting your back before letting you go.

“Give it a day or two, cool off. When we reach pirates cove, you should talk to him… but for now, maybe apologize for shouting.” She suggested.

You nodded, wiping the tears from your face before you got up from your bed. “Thank you Phee… you always know what to say.” You replied softly, turning away and making your way down below deck to the bunks.

you looked around, searching for Hunters bunk. It didn’t take long to find him, and when you cleared your throat, Hunter looked into your eyes immediately before looking away.

You sighed, stepping towards him as you spoke. “I wanted to apologize to you for shouting and saying those things… I've just been pent up and i shouldn’t have taken it out on you… I'm sorry.” You breathed out, awkwardly fidgeting with your hands as you stared at the ground. Hunter didn’t say anything right away, so you just inhaled through your nose and nodded.

“O-okay… well that's all…” You muttered, turning away from his bunk, taking a step forward but not before you felt a hand wrap around your wrist and spin you back around.A soft gasp was pulled from your lips, and your eyes went wide when Hunter’s lips landed on yours. You were tense in his grip, but slowly started to relax just as he pulled away.

“Oh god- im so sorry Captain i-”

“Y/n.”

“What?” He questioned, befuddled

“Call me Y/n… and kiss me again.” You ordered, taking a step towards him with an almost hungry look in your eyes. Hunter nodded, and moved in to close the gap once more, but not before the rowdy voices of his brothers filled your ears. You quickly jumped away, wiping your lips and fixing your hat, pretending like nothing had happened as you smiled at Wrecker and Echo. Not noticing the frown on Hunter's lips at your reaction.

“Right well that's the plan! I'll brief you all again when we get to the Pirate’s island in a couple days time.So until then keep your ears open for any Imps, but uh- just have fun!” You exclaimed, hurriedly pushing past Wrecker and Crosshair, nigh on running up the stairs just to get to the top deck.

During those few days, you kind of tried to avoid Hunter, but it was mostly unsuccessful as when you’d be struggling to pull something, Hunter would appear behind you with his hands on your hips before he helped you pull the rope or whatever was stuck on the ship. He’d send you looks from all the way across the ship, getting you all flustered to the point where you’d have to turn away and distract yourself with something else.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Soon, however, you reached Pirate’s island, and now you were docked and ready to meet with the council. You had Phee to your left, and Hunter to your right with the deed. The rest of his brothers and the rest of your crew either stayed on the ship or went to explore the island and the shops they had posted.

“remember!” You called back to Tech and the others, gesturing to their money pouches. “Keep it close and haggle for the lowest price! pirates are thieves but they’ll settle for gold nonetheless!” You explained, turning back around as you nodded to Hunter. “Keep that deed close to your chest, same with your gold. And don’t trust anyone but me and Phee.” You stated sternly.

“Why don’t I just give you the deed then?” He questioned, making you pause. “You know what that is a great idea.” You huffed, stepping closer to the hunter as you blocked him from the view of anyone else who might be looking. You were still taller than him after all.

You made the quick exchange, and the deed is now safe in your puffy sleeve. You nodded to him, though the look he gave you sent shivers down your spine. His eyes were dark, darker than before yet they still held a shimmer that made your knees weak.

You huffed and took a step back, tucking your hair behind your ear before nodding. “Right well, let's carry on!” You exclaimed, leading the way through the island with Hunter and Phee right behind you. The council house, which was just a large shipwreck turned into a functional building, was already opened up with people gathered on the inside.

Phee had sent word ahead to them to gather the council, and so as you entered you pushed past other pirates, signaling for Hunter to stop as you stepped onto a speakers platform, now standing in front of the council who looked at you expectantly.

“Captain Y/n the Clean Killer, Captain of Death's Call, lover of man and women, and stealer of hearts… what, may i be so bold as to ask, have you come here for?” The head councilman spoke up, a man you knew well as your dear old uncle.

“Hello Uncle, fellow council members… you all have heard of the treasure of the pirate king, you’ve all heard different stories of the form it came in. But the most common story was Gamshire’s deed, the key to his last words. Which infamously were- ahem- ‘Any pirate who is to stumble upon this deed, treasure, or otherwise, shall have but one command that all pirates of the council must abide by’- his words exactly.” You explained, reaching for the deed in your sleeve, pulling it out with a grin before showing it to the council.

“I have found his deed, and now I have but one request of the council, and you all will abide.” You stated, keeping a firm grip on the deed as the onlookers shouted in uproar. Pirates had been looking for the deed for decades.

“This is unfair! the whore captain gets all the treasures!” One pirate shouted, only to be silenced when the head councilman slammed his dagger into the table. “Enough! my spawn speaks true… Y/n, make your request, and we will listen.” Your uncle stated, sitting back down as you grinned.

“Fellow pirates, council men and women, friends and foes. With this deed I ask of you, using Gamshire’s last words… give me a fleet of your best ships, and best crew’s. For with large numbers we will finally rid the seas of The Red Death, and its wretched captain!” You shouted, slamming the deed in front of you as your words sparked on its pages, the command written, and then burned as the page erupted into cinders, flying towards the councilmen who all had wide eyes, but could not object, as the deal was struck.

“You will have your fleet, and your men… and we wish you good luck.” Your uncle spoke up, hesitating only slightly. You grinned, bowing in thanks before stepping down to where Phee was, noticing quickly that Hunter had left her side.

“Where did Hunter go?” You questioned, walking out of the ship with Phee. “His senses got a bit too much for him so he went to the Siren’s call to find his brothers.” She answered, a hum leaving your lips. “A brothel tavern to find his brother yea? well lets go help him look.” You replied, taking the lead once more as you walked with Phee towards the Tavern.

Once inside you took a quick scan, indeed noticing Wrecker, crosshair, Tech, Echo and Omega all enjoying themselves at a table. Hunter however, was nowhere near them. You furrowed your eyebrows, gesturing for Phee to go enjoy herself as you approached the barkeep. “Hey Fred. Have you seen a man? a few inches shorter than me, with a half skull tattoo on his face? red and black bandana?” You questioned.

Fred nodded, silently pointing to a curtain that was slightly opened. You nodded, and flicked a coin in thanks before making your way to the curtain. You don’t know what you were really expecting to find, but opening the curtain up to see two random women slung on his arms, kissing his neck, face and lips was not what you wanted to see.

You were kind of tense in the doorway, not bothering to notice the way Hunter tried to push the girls away. Instead you spun around, fury in your eyes as you stormed out of the Tavern. Your heart ached, and you felt that pit only get bigger as your hands clenched into fists.

“Y/n! wait!”

You heard Hunter call after you, his words slightly slurred as he stumbled after you. Hunter managed to grab your wrist, so you quickly spun around, landing a loud slap on his cheek as you sneered at him.

“Whatever was going on between you and me? You've made certain that it will never happen” You growled, pushing him off you as you turned and continued walking away. Hunter stood there, a broken expression left on his face as he turned to look at his brothers, who were standing behind him now, Wrecker holding his hands over Omega’s ears.

“They drugged me.” Hunter whispered, failing to notice the looks on his brother's face as Hunter promptly passed out.

You were already in your room on your ship when they had brought Hunter back, you didn’t care either, so pent up in your anger and frustrations that you didn’t hear the panicked shouts from his brothers. You just slashed and punched at the straw dummy in your room.

Hunter's brothers eventually got him into the infirmary portion of the ship, echo and Tech searching for the medicines needed to subsite whatever drug those two women had used on him… In the meantime, Phee made her way up to your room, but hearing the grunts and frustrated yells, she turned away and went to the wheel instead.

She knew better than to enter your quarters when you were raging like that, so for now she just let you calm down while the fleet gathered itself on their ships in the cove, and prepared to leave on your signal.

There were about ten ships filled to the brim with capable pirates, ten ships ready to fight and probably die fighting the Red Death. But you had a plan… as stupid as it might’ve been…

Eventually, you had exhausted yourself from abusing the dummy in your room,tossing your sword onto the ground, sliding into your bed with an endless stream of tears falling from your cheeks. “What was I thinking…” You whispered to yourself, laying down and staring at the ceiling.

Maybe you should just leave… take your weapons, and a small boat and sail in the night and find the ship on your own, challenge red to a duel and die, and forget about what happened because well- you’d be dead.

you shook your head. “I’m not going to… not because of a damn boy.” You growled at yourself, letting your eyes fall closed as you sighed. Sleep… sleep and forget it ever happened… that's all you needed… but that pain grew in your heart.

And sleep came for you, not easy, but it came. You tossed and turned in the night, clutching your chest as you panted, and groaned, unaware of the events that had conspired during your anger…

Phee was with Tech, talking about their plans of action. “It wasn’t Hunter’s fault, the Captain has to realize that and see what happened to Hunter.” Tech hissed, worried about his family more than anything. Phee sighed, but nodded.

“I agree, but we have to be sensitive when we talk to them about it. To Y/n, two girls were sexing up Hunter, and he looked like he was enjoying it, even though he wasn’t. And whatever fling they were testing the waters on, burned to a crisp in that moment.” Phee argued back.

“Y/n may have had lovers in the past, but not like Hunter, or like their first, Captain Red’s daughter Vexandria. They were torn away from each other and Y/n was cursed afterwards. Cursed for revenge… and they wouldn’t be able to truly love, or feel anything but that anger and revenge until Captain Red lays dead.” Phee exclaimed, Tech’s eyes going wide. “they’re cursed?” He repeated, and Phee nodded.

“Yes, so as much as Y/n want’s to love, and let themselves be loved, it only makes them hurt… so by letting themselves get attached to Hunter, and then seeing that? it hurts them, and makes them so angry that they could slaughter this whole crew if they didn’t lock themselves away for a couple hours… which is why we have to be sensitive.” Phee stated, patting Tech’s shoulder.

“Get some rest, and come tomorrow we can show Y/n… Until then, make sure Hunter’s okay.” Phee instructed, watching as Tech nodded and then walked off, scribbling something in that journal he always carried. Phee sighed, looking up towards your quarters. She shook her head, nodding to the crew before she went to rest for the night.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day, with successes instead of losses.

Tag list:

Hunter tag list:

They Are The Captain tag list:

@arctrooper69

[cherrylng]

Muse Relay Interview - Part 3 - Chris Wolstenholme [INROCK (December 2012)]

Long-awaited show in Japan in January! Muse 3-month relay interview No.3: Chris Wolstenholme

"The rumour that Matthew died in a car crash was sickening."

Chris Wolstenholme/Muse INTERVIEW: P.G. BRUNELLI/INROCK

Chris Wolstenholme is the member of Muse who has had the most personal troubles. While Matthew and Dominic are very sensitive when it comes to their health, Chris has been battling with his own inner demons for years. Although he frequently quits smoking and has also faced alcohol problems for some years, he has apparently succeeded in quitting drinking. Although he has never had any drug-related problems, he has nevertheless led a very rock ‘n’ roll life behind the facade of being a father of six children for the last 13 years. Now, for the first time, Chris is taking vocals on two songs on Muse's latest album ‘The 2nd Law’. Until now, there has been no information about his singing ability, and this must come as a big surprise to listeners. The content of the album is also very different, almost the opposite of the others, and it sounds like a disappointment, even in a good way. Did you write these two songs yourself? Chris Wolstenholme (b.): Yeah, I wrote both songs. I wrote a lot of others and played them to the rest of the band, but these two songs are the best ones out of all of them, and they fit the content of the album. We wanted to try something we hadn't done before this time anyway, and these two songs were new sounds that fit that. When we were originally writing the songs we were going to have Matthew (Bellamy, vo./keys./g.) sing on them, but after the songs were finished the three of us discussed it and decided that I should sing on them because the lyrics are very personal. I thought it would make more sense if I sang it. I think it adds a new dimension to the band with me on vocals, and I think it's going to have a big impact on the listeners to have a different singer singing a completely new Muse song.

When I spoke to Matthew the other day, he said that this album is much more personal than his previous work, and these two songs that you wrote are also very personal, so they seem to fit in well with Matthew's writing, don't they? Chris: Yeah, yeah, I think so. We didn't discuss the lyrics beforehand, so until we recorded the vocals, I had no idea that Matthew was writing these personal songs, and I didn't expect the songs to match each other so well. But Matthew's right, this album is much more personal than the last few albums we've made, it's very human, it's based on relationships and personal things that we've experienced ourselves. That's very unusual for this band.

Especially in your case, you've been through so much in the last few years, with all the tragedies and break-ups, personal troubles, and the birth of your child, there's no reason why you wouldn't write a song about that. Chris: Yeah, exactly. I think when you go through that much in your life, whether it's positive or negative, it's very natural to want to write lyrics and songs about it. I think in the last three years we've each gone through some big changes (PG note: in Chris' case, alcohol problems and the birth of his 5th & 6th children) and the way we write lyrics has changed with that.

"I've always had a drinking problem and was battling my inner demons."

Does it make you feel a little better to put your thoughts into lyrics? What exactly are you singing about in these two songs? Chris: Basically, they're both about the different changes that happen in life. I was in a very bad place for a while and I thought I was never going to get out of it. I'm specifically referring to a time when I was battling my own demons. I'd had a problem with alcohol for a long time and I finally decided to face it, and when I did, my life did a complete 180. It was a really great feeling. Well, to be honest, it was a very strange experience to confront something that had been a part of me for such a long time and to kick it out of my life. Anyway, both songs are based on that experience, and they're both about the same thing from different angles. And they're both full of anger. "Liquid State" is about the presence of something inside you that tries to tear you down. There's a part of me that's a human being trying to get back on my feet and there's a part of me that's a demon trying to lead me to a dark place, and it's really tearing me apart. It's messing with my head a lot. "Save Me" is more about coming to your senses after those hard times, and I know it sounds a bit corny, but it's about realising that your family and your children have always been there for you through it all. My family has always been there for me through all the hard times and they have always given me hope, and I think that's what got me through the hard times.

You moved to the outskirts of Dublin to get away from your problems, but then you moved back to London because of the recording sessions there, didn't you? What made you decide to move back to the big city? Did you have the option to stay on the outskirts of Dublin? Chris: I moved to Ireland because I wanted to get out of Teignmouth anyway. I'd just come off alcohol at that time and I wanted to start all over in a new place. That said, I didn't really want to live in London. I don't know why, but I just didn't think living in London was not a good idea for me at the time. It was very quiet and peaceful outside of Dublin and I had a lot of great times with my family. Those times were very important to me. But you can't record a band in Dublin, and I had to do a lot of interviews and stuff besides recording, so I ended up having to fly to London quite a lot. But then it took five hours to get to London, and I couldn't do it in the same day, so I had to go back to the hotel, and that kind of life just didn't suit me. I realised the importance of my family and how they were a stabiliser for me, and I started to realise that I needed them to be close to my work too. So I finally moved to London. I wanted to make my life simpler.

You're known as the rock element to Muse, but did you have to change your mind about the electronic content of the album? Chris: I don't know if I bring a rock element to the band, but if I do, it's something that happens naturally. It's just the way I play and the sound of the bass. I think ‘United States of Eurasia’ on the last album is a good example of that. Matthew's idea was that it was originally a ballad, but once I played it, it stopped being a ballad. Matthew liked the fact that there was still a rock element to it, even though it was based on piano and he didn't play guitar.

Last November, there were rumours that Muse were breaking up… Chris: Yeah, that was funny. There's a lot of funny rumours on the internet that make me laugh. The one about Matthew being killed in a motorcar accident was a bit creepy though. Rumours like that spread quickly. At first people believe them, and then ten minutes later they realise it's not true. People who take these stories seriously and spread them must have a lot of time on their hands.

Is it true that you proposed to Richard Branson (founder of the British giant Virgin Group) that you wanted to perform in space? Is that just another rumour? Chris: It's true. I really did talk to him about it. Maybe one day it will happen. It would be great to be the first band to play in space. But I don't know if we'd actually be able to play our instruments because of the gravity and all. I don't think my hands move as fast as I'd like.

You guys used to write and record in a very isolated environment and didn't have much of a public image, but recently you've become more connected to the outside world through social media and whatnot? Is it the influence of Twitter and Facebook? Chris: I think there's definitely some influence from social media. Subconsciously, though. I mean, I don't think we've ever completely separated ourselves from the world before. Well, in our case, we've never been tabloid fodder, so maybe that's what people think. When we appear in newspapers and magazines, it's not for personal reasons, it's because of our music. We don't get in the gossip papers because of where we've been walking. Anyway, thanks to the spread of Twitter and Facebook, we can communicate with our family and fans, and I think that's very important nowadays. Fans love being part of the band. There used to be a huge barrier between the band and the fans, but now you can connect on those websites anytime, even when you're recording, and it's great to be able to spend five minutes on Twitter and make a lot of people happy.

Do you tweet a lot yourself? Chris: No, sometimes. I don't post every day, maybe two or three times a month if I do. But I try to spend a couple of hours at a time on it, and I talk to a lot of fans during that time. It's a lot of fun and it's very interesting to see what kind of people are listening to our music.

"It's a really valuable experience and a great honour to be part of a global event like the Olympics."

Do you ever take time off to be on your own, away from the band and your extended family? Chris: Over the last few years I've learnt the importance of taking time off and I think I'm getting better at balancing my band and my personal life. From the time of our debut to about our second or third album, it was hard to do that. It was really hard back then. We weren't successful yet, so we had to do everything on our own for that, and we had to work a lot anyway (PG note: I think they were successful enough from the start…). We were so busy, there was no time off at all. But as we got older and a bit wiser, we finally realised that we wouldn't be able to survive as a band for a long time to come without our own lives away from the band. We can't devote 24 hours a day to the band anymore like we used to. If we kept doing that, we would lose our lives. So I think we've found a good balance now. Like I said, that's why I moved to London. I can go home on my days off while I'm touring Europe. I couldn't do that before. Anyway, the most important thing is to find a balance. The right balance for the band and the right balance for the family. If you're miserable in the band, you're probably miserable in your personal life, and if you're miserable in your personal life, you're probably miserable in the band. You have to be happy on both sides. To do that, we have to strike a balance.

"Survival" is the official song of the London Olympics. Did you write it when you were offered the chance to write the theme song or did you just give them the song as it was written from the beginning? Chris: It could be described as both. When we started working on the album, it was mentioned that we might have something to do with the Olympics. So there was talk about that before we wrote that song, and it's true that we felt inspired by that, but at the same time, we originally wrote it as a song for the album, just like any other song. It wasn't until after we had finished recording that the Olympics officially asked us if we could prepare the song. So we told them that the song was inspired by the Olympics, even though it was on the album, and we played them the song and they liked it. Now I'm going to perform at the closing ceremony and it will be the first time I've played in front of such a big TV audience and it's a really rare experience and a great honour to be part of such a world-class event. It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Last year you guys were chosen as the support band for the Rage Against The Machine reunion show, how did that feel? Chris: It was great. It was a real, real honour. That band is one of those bands that never gets old. Basically you listen to music for a few years and then you get bored of it and never listen to it again, but with them you can listen to them anytime and their sound never gets old. I'm still as passionate about them as I was when I was 15, and they're the only band that all three of us share a common admiration for. It was like a dream come true to be on the same stage with them. I mean, just to be able to see them perform that close up was amazing, I've never really heard a band as loud as they are. And they always put on a great show, they've never put on a bad show. I know that over the last few years the band members have had some personal differences that have separated them, but before they go on stage they give each other strong hugs, and it's very touching to see that. It's nice to see that no matter how much they may hate each other, when they go on stage they only focus on the music and be supportive of each other.

The music scene has changed a lot in the last ten years, how do you think you've changed as musicians yourselves? Chris: After 10 years, the music you listen to will change, and your influences will change as well. When I was about 17, there were only a few bands I liked and I didn't listen to anything else, I was a hard rock fan, so all I listened to was Deftones and Helmet, and my perspective was very narrow. But as I got older, I started listening to other genres of music, and I think my horizons have broadened and I've grown a lot as a musician. Of course, there have been a lot of changes within the band over the last ten years. For example, "Showbiz" is a simple rock album that is almost one-sided, but from "Origin of Symmetry" onwards, you can start to hear influences from other genres of music. “Space Dementia” had a piano and classical elements, and “Megalomania” had a very unique sound. And in the next album, "Absolution", you can hear a new groove in the bass line. Of course, there are still rock songs like “Time is Running Out”, but “Endlessly” is the first time we have electronic elements. Anyway, we are constantly evolving as musicians and our own taste and style is evolving too. We listen to a lot more music and are more open to different things. So we are a rock band that is open to a lot of influences from outside the rock world.

Translator's Note: Translating these old interviews can be both amusing and wild at times. It's a look back in time of certain stuff that you'd missed out on and be able to have a "Wait, what" moment from the gossip that went on back then.

Please do support me with my Ko-fi! ☕

[questioningwriter]

(I'm not dead, I promise! But I did recently start my job, which has sporadic hours, so I haven't had time to write. But I finally got this finished and I wanted to post it, because I promised it weeks ago. Hopefully the next one will come sooner.)

Edit: I'm an idiot, who forgot to link everything. Fixed it.

Morally Grey Pt 3

Part 1 Part 2

TW: Imprisonment, obsessive behavior, Mentioned no-con drugging

The press was having a field day with this, Superhero mused as he stood at the podium, the other hero's standing behind him. It wasn't necessary, but none of them knew that.

“-I can assure you, we will find Villain, and put him back where he belongs.” Superhero finished addressing the media, but before any of the hero's could leave, there was a shout at the back of the crowd.

"You liar!" Everyone turned to the shout, and there were screams as Other Villain burst from the crowd, gun in hand. "I know you did something! What did you do with Villain?"

"I can assure you that I have no idea what you are talking about." Superhero said smoothly. "I had nothing to do with Villain's disappearance."

"Bullshit!" Other Villain yelled. "You were the last person to see him. You were the one who he was going to meet, I know it! Where is he?"

Superhero stepped back and his team came to flank him. "For the last time, I had nothing to do with Villain's disappearance!"

"Then how did you know?" Other Villain snarled. "How did you know that Villain was missing?"

"...Because the prison called us about their disappearance?" Superhero said. "And it's all over the news? The whole reason we have to have his press conference in the first place?"

Other Villain floundered, which gave the officers time to sneak up behind them. But before they could be caught, Other Villain blasted them back with his power, then turned to Superhero. "I'll prove you were the one who did something to Villain!" He pointed his weapon at Superhero. "I swear it!"

With a dramatic swirl of his cape, he was gone. Superhero turned to his team. "Get everyone to safety." He ordered. "I'll start putting out the feelers to find both Villain and Other Villain. It's more important now than ever to figure out where they went."

The team did as he asked. Superhero watched them proudly for a moment before turning and leaving. Such obedient puppets.

He quickly changed out of his hero costume in the back room, then left. On the way home, he made several calls and made sure his spies in Villain's organization were ready to fake his Villain's death. He contemplated taking out Other Villain at the same time. Make it look like the two were working together, and something went wrong.

Arriving at his house cut off his thought process. Pulling into the garage, he got out and went inside his house. Looking around, he walked to the basement door. Unlocking all six of the locks on the door, Superhero went downstairs.

When Superhero had purchased the house, he found that the former owner had converted the basement into an apartment, complete with it's own bathroom, so that someone could rent the room, and the previous owner could have a second income coming in from the tenant. Over the years, Superhero had had no need for it, so it had been left to gather dust.

Until today.

His guest stood from his place on the bed as Superhero entered.

"Where the fuck am I?" Villain snarled. "What did you do?"

~

"Villain, sweetheart." Superhero said happily, as if they were discussing the weather. "I'm glad to see you're awake. How are are you feeling? Did the drug give you a headache?"

Villain glared at his lover. "Don't pull that bullshit with me." He snapped. "Where the hell am I? What the fuck did you do?"

Superhero's smile waned. "Villain, why don't we sit down to discuss this?" He said.

"No." Villain backed away from Superhero's reaching hands. "Don't touch me. And, while you're at it, let me go."

Superhero sighed. "Sweetheart." He soothed. "Please just listen to me. Aren't you even a little bit curious as to why I did this?"

Villain hesitated. Truth be told, he was a little curious as to what drove the crime-fighter to this point. They broke their own moral code by kidnapping Villain. He was curious as to lovers enemies motives.

"Alright, I'll bite." Villain sat back down. "Why am I here?"

"It's simple." Superhero sat down next to his ex-partner. “Because of our last conversation as lovers.” He answered. “You told me it was either you or them-”

“-and if you picked them, I would never see you again, at least not in the sense of lovers.” Villain cut him off. “What does that have to do with you kidnapping me?” 

“Well. I made my choice.” Superhero took Villain's jaw in a bruising grip. “I choose option three.” 

"Did you know that the same day you escaped prison, a hospital exploded?" Superhero asked. "Unfortunately, a lot of people died that day. It was a tragic accident, but I saw a way to spin it to my favor."

"I planted signs that you were behind it. Little things, like your symbol painted on a still-standing part of the building. camera footage placing you there, a few hours before the explosion happens. All things that sign your metaphorical death warrant.

Throughout Superhero's speech, Villain's face had gotten paler and paler until it was almost completely white. "You're a monster." He breathed.

"The other heroes think you blew up the hospital." Superhero continued like Villain hadn't spoken. "You are not safe anywhere beyond this house. I have made sure of that." 

Villain's face was drained of color. "You're crazy." He whispered. 

 "Crazy in love with you." Superhero joked, but quickly grew serious. “Villain, I am only trying to give us both what we want - each other. I love you, more than anything, and I want to be with you.” He reached out and took his boyfriend's hand. “You gave me an impossible choice the last time we were together. Either I choose you, or I choose my team.” 

“I remember.” Angel said tersely.

“I knew I could not abandon my team.” Superhero continued like he had not spoken. “They needed me, and so did the public.” He reached up to cup Villain's cheek. “But I need you.” Superhero pulled his hands back. “And the world doesn’t need you like I do.” 

Villain’s eyes widened. Jumping from the bed, be backed away. “No, I will not be caged.” He snarled. “I won’t let you keep me here.” 

“I don’t expect you to.” Superhero told him. “What I expect is for you to fight. I expect escape attempts. I’m even expecting you to try to kill me.” I leaned forward. “None of which you can do without your power.” 

His eyes narrowed. “You can’t steal my power. It’s impossible.” 

“No.” Superhero admitted, “but I can block it.” 

Villain didn't have the chance to run before Superhero was lunging to grab him. Getting ahold of the criminal, Superhero injected him with a sedative, and Villain blacked out.

`

Villain woke up to weakness. Weakness so strong it was hard to move. And an emptiness where his powers usually were. It was an effort to lift his head to meet his captors eyes. 

"Villain.” Superhero spoke calmly, like he was talking to a wild animal. “Villain, sweetheart, can you hear me?” 

“Fuck you.” Villain slurred. Superhero’s gaze hardened. Villain thought that the hero was going to hit him, but he just turned away.

"The weakness will wear off soon." He said. "Unfortunately, I could not prevent it from happening completely, but I was able to decrease its effects." He messed with something out of Villain's vision. "This apartment is fully furnished, and has everything you will need to survive." He smiled at me. "You'll be safe here."

"If by safe, you mean trapped here as your prisoner, then yeah, I'm totally safe." Villain snapped, fighting to stand. "Guess what, Supes, I'm not going to stay here complacently, I'm going to fight this with everything I have in me. And when I strike, it will leave you crumpled in the dust." 

Superhero laughed. "Good luck." He left, leaving him in his prison.

[asukaskerian]

monthly word count - june

TOTAL: 5 163

POSTED: -Bleach - daemon AU : harribel (1 644 words) (on tumblr not AO3)

IN PROGRESS -Bleach suburban ot4 (698 words) -Naruto Cherry wine (966 words) -SVSSS silly divergent timeline AU that idk if i'll finish (1 545 words) -Bleach - daemon AU : random grimmjow scene (310 words)

-- suburban ot4 : grimmichi and a sentai show -- He still doesn't really know why Grimmjow asked him to come. He doesn't look like a guy who needs a hand as he walks inside, introduces the two of them, gets the job specs.

He doesn't even balk when they get handed some costumes. Ichigo balks. He almost says something about it, and then doesn't want to look uncool; by the time Grimmjow turns around to hand him his outfit he has pushed it down but Grimmjow still arches an eyebrow, smirking with half his mouth.

"... Shut up."

"Was I saying something?"

"You were thinking it too loudly."

He snorts. Ichigo flounces off to the locker room. Ugh. So embarrassing. His behavior is ridiculous. It's such a mess inside his chest, his head, a jumble of bullshit and idiocy. Every time Grimmjow says something that means he's having fun messing with Ichigo a little giddy thrill goes right through him, and then he remembers that he ruined Orihime's sense of safety and damaged her trust and what the fuck is he doing, hiding from that by hanging out with his crush? He hasn't fixed it yet. He doesn't deserve to gallivant off and be fine with someone else.

It... doesn't feel like he's cheating on his wife, exactly, but it's in the same wheelhouse. 

"Move your flat ass a bit, won'tcha," Grimmjow asks, elbowing him between the shoulder blades.

"--I don't have a flat ass!"

Grimmjow gives him an insolently pitying look. "Bitch, that shit's concave."

-- cherry wine --

... If the reason Madara was brooding so hard even the Hyuuga gave him the side-eye was related to the rut-drug incident, then it had to be somebody he felt betrayed by. He hadn't been taking it personally before.

He didn't get much more of an occasion to ponder; a gong rang through the hall, calling for everybody's attention.

Up on the dais the daimyos were taking their seats, three of them in front and the fourth one, the unlucky, sitting behind a wooden lattice screen where her shape could be guessed at but nothing more could be seen. Next came the priest with his festooned branch to cleanse the spiritual energy of the room. Then the heirs, finally.

"He has a target in mind," Hashirama mused quietly; and he was looking straight ahead at the dais, not seeming to pay the Uchihas any attention, and yet Tobirama knew who he meant instantly. "Not in the room though."

"... Hm."

"Any insight?"

Ugh. Every time he was reminded he had passed up on it--

"Rut inducer," he muttered, annoyed at himself.

"Ah, bloodline theft then... Hm. No. It would be resolved by now."

Tobirama couldn't help but agree that if Inuzuka Hanazura had brought them proof of that sort of plot, there would have been corpses not one hour later and Madara would be looking more self-satisfied.

-- svsss --

The truth wasn't that Airplane had hatched a master plan to sneak out from under his System's unforgiving yoke.

The truth was that he'd been buried in emergency inventory lists to his eyebrows for the last two weeks, and just that day had to deal with eight different customers who couldn't understand why heightened demon-human hostilities would mean their ancient viagra tea would be harder to procure, all because his shifu thought he could do with more asshole-handling practice. The last thing he needed was Shen newly-Qingqiu getting in his face about the wrong wood being used in his tranquility-promoting benches.

Who the fuck caaaaaaares bro shut the FUCK up we all know it's because the wood grain's not the right swirliness for your "artistic vision"!

So he lost his temper.

In true Shang Qinghua fashion he lost it in the privacy of his own mind and nowhere else. "Ah, shixiong, you understand, we're too understaffed to send a team! It would be months before an expedition could be justified."

"Why is that." 

Airplane had created Shen Jiu to be a bitch, but sometimes he was still surprised at the depths of bitchiness he managed to plumb with a single eyebrow. 

"Because I try not to feed more than five shidis a week to Colossal Orchid-Faced Ants when I can help it?"

-- daemon AU tidbit that might never get anywhere --

"We just wanted you to be aware, a gigai once used will be set aside for personal use. We don't know if traces of the first user's reiatsu would destabilize it for someone else, after all! You fine gentlemen won't have to share. That makes gathering the raw materials a little more of an issue, though..."

"... Need me to get some for you."

Waki preens at her wing with affected unconcern. "It would hasten the process. Though there will still be a bottleneck as we gather and analyze everyone's data... We can't let you have it back before then." 

She flicks her feathers back into place and bounces cheerfully on her toes.

"So in the meantime! How would you feel about a couple heists?"

... Pffft. "Not in Hueco Mundo."

"Mmh... No."

"You want me to break into the Seireitei."

She trills, like she thinks she's a cutesy bouncy magpie and not a crow. "Yep!"

"To steal some shit and not get myself killed."

"Preferably not caught by security either! How's your stealth?"

Grimmjow pretends to think about it. "Pretty good when I bother, but if I'm not getting a fight out of it, why would I?" Honestly, he already knows he's gonna go. Between a heist and waiting around like a sad sack... 

Leucanthe will have enjoyed the first one more. When she comes back.

[hymemena]

My Spotify Wrapped 2023 Top Ten Lyric Starters

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary, and remember to specify muse for multimuse blogs.

CW: General ns.fw, blood, rough sex, toxicity, daddy kink, manipulation, drug use, electrostim, alcohol use

—

ASHNIKKO - TANTRUM

"Riots on the TV."

"They wanna keep it PG."

"All their daughters wanna be me."

"Believe me."

"I'm not nice, I'm a meanie."

"I did something bad."

"Please don't get attached."

"There's no coming back."

"Break a heart like an eggshell."

"Throw a tantrum, baby."

"Baby, doll me up 'cause I'm a brat."

"I'm a brat."

"I'm a handful."

"Bitch, I am one."

"Make it tragic."

MOXIFLOXI - BRAT

"Spoil me, buy me things!"

"Golden watches, diamond rings."

"Take me out and pamper me."

"Show me I'm your everything."

"Bend me over, make me scream."

"Choke me, hold me, breed me, stroke me."

"Make me say those dirty things."

"Bring me joy!"

"I'm your girl/boy and you're my toy!"

"Buy me gifts. Give me more!"

"Make me feel like I'm adored."

"Put me in my place."

"Slap my face."

"Treat me like your little whore."

"Use me 'til you make me come."

ORGY - TALK SICK

"You've got some nerve to throw it in my face."

"They want your money, honey."

"Don't they seem so loving?"

"Trick or treat and we fade away."

"Kicked to the curb on judgement day."

"A pinch of salt in your Hater-ade?"

"Just a little bit of torture."

"Move a little closer."

"Listen to the clock tick."

"Tell me if you want it."

"I can make you toxic."

"Come fake the fire."

"Get you higher than high, suck you dryer than dry."

"Race you to the steeple."

"On the bright side, we should bang one last time."

PARANOiD DJ - GET HOOKED (VALENTINO'S DEAL)

"So, I'm the boss man."

"I've got anything you'll ever want."

"Call me sir, call me Daddy, call me CEO."

"But for you, Baby Doll, just call me -name-."

"'Cause I run this empire."

"I flaunt this."

"Every day I'm gon' be cashin' the checks."

"Eyes up, show the man respect."

"Come on, Baby."

"You'll feel pleasures that you never knew were real before."

"With my hands on your hips and my taste on your lips?"

"Take you to your limit 'til you give in."

"Got you feeling like I'm all that you need."

"All in the service of insatiable greed."

"Don't want no backtalk, just follow my word."

UNDERSCORES - SPOILED LITTLE BRAT

"Am I extreme?"

"Strictly business."

"Take a picture, hope it lasts long."

"Yeah, I live for the attention."

"I got a problem and it's not my fault."

"Why would I pay it any mind?"

"But yeah, I guess I must have pissed you off."

"Thinking about a little something something in my septum and a couple tattoos."

"Gossip 'bout a little something something even though nobody ever asked you."

"Shut your mouth, listen up when I talk!"

"I'm a spoiled little brat and I get what I want!"

"Stick around and I'ma do my worst."

"What the Hell did you expect?"

"Criticize a little something something that I did because somebody had to."

"If I did a little something something in the bathroom could I get it past you?"

GENITORTURERS - MACHINE LOVE

"Come on, feel my affection."

"Feel my affection for machine love."

"Just plug in, then fade out."

"It's the real deal."

"It's the real deal, electric feel."

"Trip your pulse, your heart beats faster."

"Ask yourself how long you can last."

"Come on, feel my danger."

"I'll be your cheap slut savior."

"I am the one who makes you want it."

"Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex!"

"Does your libido feel my sex?"

"Come tonight."

"Be with me all of the time."

"I am the one who makes you come."

CALL ME KARIZMA - ART HOE

"Never had her dad there."

"Kissed a lot of boys but never seems to have care."

"She just wants vodka and cigarettes."

"Has the dealer on speed dial when she gets stressed."

"She knows, she knows, she knows, she knows that I can't resist her ways."

"I'm so exposed to all the tricks she plays."

"I think I fell in love with an art hoe."

"I think I love getting my heart broke."

"Wakes up at noon, gets up when she has to."

"Cocaine in her bathroom."

"She just wants love that she never gets."

"Has my number on speed dial when she needs sex."

"Caught up and never talked to her."

"She ripped my heart in half, took me for all I have."

"Got nothing left but it's cool."

NEW YEARS DAY & CHRIS MOTIONLESS - ANGEL EYES

"There's something about you I cannot explain."

"I just want to know you."

"It's not what you said, not the way you said it."

"I'm under your spell and I don't regret it."

"Take my breath."

"Baby, reach inside my chest."

"You can have whatever's left."

"Baby, I'm possessed."

"Don't you try to hide with those angel eyes?"

"If you let me inside, I won't hold back this time."

"More than paralyzed."

"Oh, it's the chase you like?"

"I should get away, I want you way too much."

"I don't care how many times it takes to get through to you."

"This is a force that not even God can stop."

DANNY GONZALES - SPOOKY HO

"Make that ass shake like that ass is scared of me."

"All these other spooky dudes can't compare to me."

"October 31st, bitch, you know what I'ma be."

"I'ma be a ho for Halloween."

"Yo, happy Halloweeny!"

"My shorts looking teeny?"

"My big fat pumpkin pie going trampoliney."

"Her man wanna be me."

"She bad like a meanie."

"I knew we'd get along 'cause she loves Frankenweenie."

"Pull up to the party on a broomstick."

"I'm too thick."

"Crush a bunch of Smarties up, take two hits."

"Costume shopping, I'ma pop a tag."

"Bitch, I'm sexy Freddy Krueger, I'm about to pop off!"

GENITORTURERS - CUM JUNKIE

"I want your body."

"I want your mind."

"You know you like the way it feels."

"You cannot hide."

"Keep on thrillin' me."

"You're drillin' me hard."

"Keep me up all night."

"This conversation gets me high."

"Let's go."

"Turn me on."

"Can't stop feelin' me up all night, yeah?"

"Are you feelin' me?"

"I'm on a mission."

"Wanna keep you high."

"Too many kisses for alibi."

[demonsfate]

guilty as charged (mun edition) // accepting // anonymous asked . . . Have you ever unfollowed a blog? What were the reasons?

All the time LOL. Most often I unfollow unactive blogs, typically blogs that have been inactive for a year or damn near it. Why do I bother? Because sometimes I'll notice my dash is very slow and I'm like "daaamn I've got [this many] followers... how come nothin's happenin?" Then I realize oh wait, a lotta my mutuals became inactive lol. So softblocking them is a good way to gage how many active followers I actually have.

Other times I've unfollowed a blog just because I personally didn't vibe with the mun's ooc posts, or content they're putting out. Or, one time when somebody was just reblogging TOO many posts that were completely unrelated to their muse, and was just spamming the dashboard with unrelated fandom reblogs as if they were a personal or somethin. I don't mind a lotta ooc posts, but I do start drawing the line when my dash gets spammed with completely different fandom posts that aren't related to their muse in any way.

The most controversial time I unfollowed somebody, and this may kinda count as drama but not really, was this K.ingdom Hearts blog. For some reason, my Riddler blog took MONTHS to pick up. I mean, I had it for 4 months and couldn't get a single follow back or anything. I have no clue why - literally nobody wanted to write with me then. (Which is really bizarre, given that, I think at one point, it had 400 followers - many ppl started writing with me later). I'm gonna guess it's because my blog had dark themes / backgrounds. (I wrote my Eddie as a CSA survivor - this may be semi important later)

Anyway, a confession on one of 'em RP confession blogs was expressin' how sad they were that nobody was writing with them, I agreed with it too, also offering I'd write with 'em too. A KH blog came up to me and saying they were having the same problem. I was about to learn a big lesson in writing with them just 'cos I was sympathetic LOOOL. So basically I followed, and we kinda talked on and off for a couple weeks, we wrote a lil. But then their topics started getting ... weirder, horrible even.

Then suddenly, their posts got super fucking crazy. Like they BRAGGED about their tags were apparently QUOTES from the Columbine shooting and the Jamestown cult tragedy?! I didn't fuckin' know 'cos who would??? And like when I went to unfollow them, they were having a thread where the character casually threatens to rape his brother and it's like holy shiiiiiiiiiit. So of course, I hardblocked 'em for that clownery.

Unfortunately, I started getting anon hate on my blog (obvs from him). I got like 4 anon hates in a row - but I blocked the anon and well, that did that lol. Some of the anon hates were like "I thought you liked dark content..." and it's like yeah, when HANDLED WITH RESPECT LMAO. My character was written as a CSA survivor as a background, I don't actually write the fuckin' act out, it's just part of his story. And like, it's also there to show how male victims handle it, and how a lot of sexual abuse survivors tend to turn to hard drugs to cope with it. my BLOG HAD NOTHING THAT WAS GLORIFYING / USING TRUE CRIME SHIT & THEN HAVING MY CHARACTER THREATENING TO UGHGHHH. And like, I didn't call 'em out, didn't mention it on my blog. They can write whatever the fuck they want, I just don't want anything to do with that stuff lmao. So I blocked them.

Then I got one of their mutuals messaging me like "why did you block [user]? they thought you were good friends with them. they're really hurt :(" and it's like?? I kinda talked to them every now & then thru DMS, that's it. We never exchanged discords ffs, we were far from "friends" never mind good friends lmao. Also don't be wildin' on your dashboard, ppl are likely to become uncomfortable and unfollow.

[calisources]

DAISY JONES & THE SIX SENTENCE QUOTES. a mixture of book and show quotes. spoilers for both media so please beware if you haven't seen/read them. change pronouns and names as you see fit.

I had absolutely no interest in being somebody else's muse.

I think you have to have faith in people before they earn it. Otherwise it's not faith, right?.

I am the somebody.

End of fucking story.

I'd believe your soul mate was somebody who had all the things you didn't, that needed all the things you had. Not somebody who's suffering from the same stuff you are.

I used to think soul mates were two of the same.

You have these lines you won’t cross. But then you cross them.

Passion is...it's fire. And fire is great, man. But we're made of water. Water is how we keep living. Water is what we need to survive.

It’s like some of us are chasing after our nightmares the way other people chase dreams.

No matter who you love, they will break your heart along the way.

If she knew how often I was thinking about her, she wouldn't feel lonely.

Music is never about music. If it was, we'd be writing songs about guitars. But we don't. We write songs about women.

It hurts to care about someone more than they care about themselves.

You can't love someone back to health and you can't hate someone back to health and no matter how right you are about something, it doesn't mean they will change their mind.

Everything that made (name) burn, made me burn.

We were two halves. We were the same. In that way you’re only the same with a few other people.

Never let other people tell you whether your work has value.

Don't count yourself off so early (name). You are all sorts of things you don't even know.

I looked in that room, and all I saw was... temptation. It wasn't the drugs.

Everyone knows Daisy Jones & The Six, but nobody knows the real reason why they split at the absolute height of their popularity…until now.