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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

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Because I Love You

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You’ve fallen for the trickster god, and have no idea that he’s done the same. When his attempts to keep you safe fail, you get into a huge fight. Will you be able to tell each other how you really feel, or is the rift too wide? Warnings: mentions of blood; fluff and angst A/N: This idea has been floating around in my head for a while, and it really took on a life of its own. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy it just as much :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

“Oh, come on, Loki,” you pouted as you helped him load up the Quinjet for the mission he was about to leave for. “I can handle myself.”

“Yes, I know, darling,” he replied with a sigh. “But this is going to be dangerous. I would feel much better knowing you were here, safe.”

“Fine,” you pouted as he took the box you were carrying from your hands.

You’d been having this argument all week. For some reason, Loki had been blocking you from going on more and more missions lately, but he went above and beyond this time. As soon as it had been announced, you’d volunteered to go. But then Loki went and talked to Steve to convince him his magic was necessary for the job and, from what you can tell, persuaded Cap that he should take your place.

The God of Mischief had been your best friend ever since he came to Avengers Tower. It hadn’t taken you long to realize that you wanted him to be something more, though. With every brush of his fingers against yours, bored glance sent your way during meetings, and laughs shared as you talked late at night made you fall deeper and deeper in love with the god. But this was getting annoying. It was nice that he cared about you, though it also made you sad. No matter how much you wanted him to feel the same way as you did, it was pretty obvious that he didn’t. Even worse than that, you were convinced that he thought of you as just a kid.

“Oh, darling,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders as your eyes raised to meet his. “Please, do not be upset. The next not dangerous mission will be yours for sure.”

“Do those even exist?” you asked with a wry laugh.

“Yes. Ones where you will without a doubt be out of combat.” You frowned at him and opened your mouth to protest. He continued speaking before you could. “I am quite aware of what a fierce warrior you are, dear mortal. But you are also fragile. I will not let anything happen to you. You are my most dear friend, darling.”

“I know,” you sighed, unable to stay mad at him. “But you have to promise you’ll stay safe, too.”

“I promise, darling.” He kissed the back of your hand, making you flustered. “I will be just fine.”

As the jet pulled out of the hangar, you waved goodbye to Loki, praying that when he came back, things could finally change between you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ll do it,” you declared at the next meeting.

“Ok then,” Steve replied. “You, me, and Nat then. We leave tomorrow at noon.”

It was a little nerve wracking to be going on a mission with two of the best fighters on the team, but you were sure it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. Loki was still on his mission, so there was no one to block you from taking this opportunity. You hoped so, anyway.

The final preparations were made, and you looked at the file in your bed that night. It should be a relatively easy mission; silently infiltrate the hydra base and download the intel from their computers. It was a small base, only a handful of enemy operatives should be there. Well, that was what you were planning on, anyway. Of course, there was always a chance things would go awry.

Suddenly, your phone rang. You plopped the file down on your comforter and checked the caller I.D. It was Loki. You worried that he’d caught wind of your plan to go on the mission tomorrow. He wasn’t supposed to be back for another couple of days, plenty of time for you to go without him interfering. That’s why you hadn’t told him yet. But if he already knew, he would certainly do everything in his power to stop you from leaving.

“Hey, Loki,” you said, nervously picking at the string on your sweatpants. “Are you ok? How’s the mission going?”

“Splendid, actually,” he replied, a smile in his voice. “So well, in fact, that I will be returning home early.”

“Oh! That’s, uh, great news.” You were trying to sound excited. It wasn’t working. “When exactly are you going to be back?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied. “I was wondering if you wanted to do something when I get back? Perhaps watch a movie or read together in the library?”

“I’d love to, Loki, really. But I’m going to be a bit busy tomorrow. Maybe if we meet later in the day?”

You were always tired after a mission, but you should be back in time to do something with Loki. And if you were just going to be reading, it would be relaxing. If you were lucky, you may even fall asleep, and he would carry you back to your bed. That had happened a few times before, and you’d woken up in his arms as he brought you back. You didn’t tell him, though. Instead, you just enjoyed the sensation of being in his arms, feeling safe and happy. It also reminded you of just how strong he was, being a god and all. You supposed that’s why he worried so much about you; you were just a mortal. His strength was contrasted by the way he carefully tucked you in and caressed your cheek. Your heart had beat wildly as you wondered if he might kiss you. He had not.

“Oh? What are your plans, then?” he inquired. “If you do not mind, maybe I could join you.”

“I, um, would of course let you, but Nat and I are going to be doing a special training routine all day,” you lied. “It’s supposed to just be the two of us. Sorry.”

“That is quite alright. We will just meet later. I look forward to it.”

“Me too. I’ll see you then, Loki,” you said, hoping to hang up before you felt guilty enough to come clean. “I better get some rest.”

“As should I. Goodnight, darling.”

You tossed the phone next to the file and sighed, covering your eyes with your arm. You hated having to lie to Loki, but you’d never go on another mission if you didn’t. Besides, he said you could go on one that wasn’t too dangerous, and the chances of getting hurt tomorrow were pretty slim. It would be fine. At least, you sure hoped it would.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They are where?” Loki asked, his voice rising in panic. “Doing what?”

“I just told you, Reindeer Games,” Tony replied, a knowing smirk on his face. “They’re on a mission. What? Did your little lovebird lie to you?”

“That is preposterous for more reasons than I can count. They are only my best friend, but still they would never lie to me. I would have known if they had, anyway.”

“Well, maybe your judgment was clouded because you-”

“I swear if you say I love them,” Loki interrupted, “there will be a dagger buried in your side faster than you can even comprehend.”

“Yeah, sure. Right,” Tony said, unconcerned. Loki never made good on his threats to his friends, bar a tiny prank here or there. Whether it was because he actually cared about them or was just worried he’d be locked up again, no one was really sure. “All I mean to say is if you stopped preventing them from going on missions, maybe they would tell you the truth.”

He hated how right Tony was. His judgment was clouded, and though he didn’t want to say, it was because he cared about you. But loved? Did Loki even know what love was? He really wasn’t sure. Regardless, he should have been taking you on missions with him, protecting you from any danger. He’d seen you fight a great many times, you were good at it. But all that needed to happen was one tiny slip-up, one small mistake, and you’d be dead in a matter of seconds.

“Maybe, but do not tell me you have never gone to extremes to protect someone you care about,” Loki snapped back.

“You’re right. I have. For the people I love.”

“Oh, never mind!” Loki said, desperately trying to avoid a conversation about his emotions. “Just tell me which bay they will be returning to so I can go wait for them.”

Tony obliged, and Loki anxiously paced the floor, fidgeting with his hands as he anticipated your return. What seemed like, and very well could have been, hours later, your transport pulled in. He wasn’t sure if he was going to hug you or scold you first. It would probably be the first option. Sure, you’d lied to him, but he wasn’t blameless either. All that mattered was you were safe.

“Clear the way,” Steve shouted, as he and Nat helped you hobble out of the jet.

Loki’s heart plummeted to his stomach as he noticed a deep red staining your shirt, right below where your liver was. Sweat glistened on your brow as you struggled to stay up. He ran up to you and took you in his arms, running towards the elevator before he realized he could just teleport. He was at the med bay in seconds, screaming for help.

“Bring them here,” one nurse said, wheeling a gurney. “We’re prepared for them.”

He said a silent prayer of thanks for whoever had called ahead. There was nothing left to do but stare on helplessly while they took you away. He whirled around as Nat and Steve finally caught up.

“What happened? Tell me,” Loki demanded to know.

“There were more agents than planned,” Steve explained. “But they took the bullet so we could complete the mission.”

“And that makes it alright?” he shouted, completely bewildered.

“No, it doesn’t,” Steve tried to pacify him.

“But it was noble,” Nat added. “And they’re going to be alright.”

Loki stayed in the waiting room for the next couple hours, running his hand through his hair as a nervous tic. The other Avengers came and went, Thor begging his brother to at least sit for a little as it got late. But he refused. He would not rest until he knew you were alright. But what was this tight feeling in his chest? This painful feeling of anxious despair? Could Stark be right? Could he love you?

He loved you.

“Mr. Laufeyson?” a nurse said, approaching him.

“Yes,” he immediately responded, a slight edge to his voice. “Are they ok?”

“They are. The wound wasn’t as bad as it looked; they just lost a lot of blood. You can go in and see them now if you want.”

“I do. Thank you.”

With a nod in her direction, Loki was racing towards the room she’d directed him to. Before he just waltzed in, he calmed himself down enough to knock on the open door, drawing your attention away from the window and to his face. A smile instantly lit up your features as you saw him, sparking in him an intense hatred at the thought that he may have never seen that again had today gone differently.

“You lied,” he said, his voice even yet menacing. He surprised himself, for that wasn’t what he had been planning on saying. But now he felt angry enough to shout at the top of his lungs. “You said you would just be training.”

“Look, I’m sorry about that. I am.” Your eyes flicked down to the floor before meeting his again. “But I know you would have tried to stop me. You didn’t leave me with very many options.”

He let out a wry laugh. “I was protecting you!” Now he was shouting. “You do finally go out on a mission and look what happened!”

“I’m fine now, Loki,” you shouted back, seething. “That’s what happened! I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Do you have any idea what I would have done if you died?” You recoiled at his blunt, harsh words, making him instantly regret them. Besides, they were slightly manipulative. He didn’t want to do that, not to you. He wanted to change the direction of the conversation. Still, he carried on with his rant, having lost control. “Your behavior is reckless at best. I insist that you stay at the Tower, even once you are done healing.”

He knew he’d overstepped as soon as the words left his mouth. Even if he hadn’t, the murderous look in your eyes would have clued him in. Before he could apologize, take back what he’d said, you were talking again, your voice now a dangerous growl.

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I am not a kid, I don’t need you to protect me. I don’t need you.”

Your hands flew up to cover your mouth, not quite believing what you’d just said. Loki just flinched like a kicked puppy, tears stinging at the back of his eyes. It was his fault. He’d pushed you away. Why did he say those horrible things? Why did it take so long to admit to even himself that he loved you? Why didn’t he just tell you how he truly felt?

“You are right,” he replied, his blue-green eyes glued to the tile beneath him. “You do not need me. I will leave you alone now.”

His heart ached in his chest as you called after him. He wanted to go back, but now he could see he was no good for you. Or at least his latest actions weren’t. Had he really made you think he viewed you as a child? Based on what you said, it sure sounded like he had. What a fool he was.

He sullenly walked to his room and took in the space with fresh eyes. He thought of how many movies you’d watched together there on the tv he had installed specifically for that purpose. All the times you’d stayed up talking, comforting each other. Would he truly never have that again?

He wanted to scream, to cry, but mostly he just wanted to sleep. He should make amends, he knew, but he just wasn’t sure he had the strength to. Not if you truly didn’t need him, and to hear that you meant it would be more than he can bear. Loki closed his eyes and fell into a slumber riddled with dreams of you and all that could have been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A month. He hadn’t talked to you in a month. Every time he was ready to talk to you, you were avoiding him, and every time you were ready to talk to him, he was avoiding you. It was frustrating, to say the least.

You were still healing a little, but had made a fairly quick recovery. Despite praying for the same to be true of your relationship with Loki, it was still as damaged as ever. But sometimes he’d still make you a cup of tea on the mornings he knew you’d need it most. You couldn’t tell if it was out of habit or if he still cared for you. You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

Checking the time, you realized you were going to be late for a meeting. You knew you weren’t supposed to run, lest you re-injure yourself, but you wanted to make sure you got there in time to get a mission assigned to you. It would be your first time back in the field since the accident. Maybe that was an odd thing to be excited about, but you were. Or maybe you just wanted something to distract you from the whole Loki situation.

“There you are,” Steve greeted. “We were just about to start.”

As of late, you and Loki had been sitting as far away from each other as possible. Today, due to your late arrival, there was only one seat left. Your old one, right across from him. With a gulp, you took it, looking everywhere but him. As Cap began speaking, you dared a glance at Loki out of the corner of your eye. He was staring right at you, as if willing you to look back. He must not have been though, because when you did turn to him, he looked like a deer caught in headlights and looked away from you. The light blush coloring his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you, and utterly confused by his behavior, you turned your attention back to Steve.

“Ok,” Steve said, turning to you. “I’ve got another intel mission for you, but only if you’re up for it.”

“Of course,” you replied, willing the nerves in your stomach away. “When do we leave?”

“Well, it’s not ‘we’ exactly,” he said, clearing his throat.

You glanced around the room. All the best fighters were already on a mission, and if you were going, it was probably to deal with the computers, not be the muscle. Bruce was still here, but if he was going to come, it wouldn’t be a stealth mission. Thor and Tony didn’t really specialize in stealth either, but it was more probable. And then there was Loki.

“So who am I going with then?” you gulped.

“Loki.”

“What?” the god exclaimed. “Why me? Cannot Natasha go? Or my brother, perhaps?”

“Nat’s on a mission,” Steve replied. “And anyway we need your magic.”

“Ok, well what about me? I can sit this one out,” you chimed in. “Tony is plenty good with computers, too.”

“Yes, but you’re stealthier,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Listen,” Tony chimed in. “It’s true that I’m amazing with computers, but Capsicle gave you the mission, not me. I don’t know what little lovers’ quarrel you two are having right now, but you need to put it aside for the good of the mission. Whatever’s going on, you’re still teammates.”

“Fine,” Loki said through grit teeth, snatching his file from Steve’s outstretched hand. “I will go.”

All eyes in the room turned to you as Loki stormed out. With a sigh, you nodded your head yes and took your own file. You flipped through and saw you’d be leaving tonight.

As soon as the meeting ended, you went to your room to pack. You considered trying to find Loki and talk through your issues, even going so far as to walk up to his door, but you chickened out at the last second. Sitting on your bed and flipping through the file, you were reminded of the last mission you went on. But not memories of getting shot; you thought of your phone call with Loki. You’d been doing so well with not crying, but you finally broke down. All you wanted was to be able to sob into Loki’s shoulder, be held in his arms. But no matter how helplessly in love with him you were, you were certain he could never feel the same.

That night, you cried yourself to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride over to the hydra base was hell. It was just you and Loki, not even a pilot since the jet could fly itself. You spent the whole flight in silence, stealing glances at each other. With nothing else to do, you reviewed the file again. The plan was to have Loki cover you both with an invisibility charm, and you’d sneak into the computer lab. From there, he’d keep lookout while you downloaded the information. Once that was done, you should just be able to stroll out under the invisibility spell. Ideally, there would be no combat. Not like “ideally” went so well last time.

“Ready?” was all you said to break the silence as you landed.

“Yes. You?” he replied.

You nodded, and he handed you your bag. Stepping out of the cloaked vehicle, Loki cast his enchantment over you. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as he took your hand. You could still see each other and, and you softly smiled up at him.

“The spell will work better the closer we are, darling.” He seemed to rethink the use of the pet name, but it had slipped out before he could stop it. “I will let go once you set to work.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied somewhat dejectedly. “That’s fine.”

He kept his word and held on until you reached the room. When he let go, it seemed to be somewhat reluctantly, or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“This shouldn’t take long,” you reassured him.

“Take your time,” he said with the most genuine smile you’d seen him have in over a month.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, but Loki was standing so close to you that your mind kept straying. It was like with every second that passed, he crept even closer to you. When it got to the point that he was practically standing on top of you, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“Can I help you?” you snapped.

“Pardon?”

“Why are you standing so close? Do you need something?”

“Yes. I need you to be safe. If there is a bullet fired today, I can assure you, you will not be taking it.”

“Loki, I thought I told you. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Did Natasha need you to protect her? Did Steve?”

“Well, no, but-”

“And yet you did anyway,” he cut you off. “Because it is something that you do when you care. And I care deeply for you, my darling.”

Your mouth hung open a little in shock. You supposed you shouldn’t read too deeply into it. After all, he didn’t say in what way he cared, and he had been your best friend before all this. It was probably just that. But the way his thumb was caressing your cheek as you leaned into his hand made you think differently. Before you lost your nerve, you surged forward and kissed him. He returned it immediately, though he seemed a bit surprised. His lips were soft, and you wanted to drown in the sensation of him. Your arms wrapped around behind his neck, and when you pulled away from the heated moment, you brought your hands forward to rest on his shoulders.

“Darling,” he whispered.

“Yes, Loki?”

“There are a million things I wish to say to you. But they will have to wait until we are done with the mission and back on the ship. Safe.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, pulling away sheepishly. “That.”

You finished the data transfer and were on your way back out. Loki held you even closer than he had walking in. A couple of agents passed you, and despite your urge to fight, the god held you back while the charm did its work. Loki hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath until you made it back to the Quinjet safely.

“So,” you said after a minute of flying in silence. “Are you ready to talk then?”

“Yes, darling. I am.” He moved, so that he was sitting next to you, holding your hand. “I made a mistake, I understand that. I was overbearing and lost my temper without even trying to talk things out. I am sorry.”

“Loki, I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I said some awful things that I didn’t mean. Plus, I lied to you, my best friend. I miss you.”

“All is forgiven.” He pressed a quick kiss to the back of your hand. “I miss you, too. And there is something else. What you said in the hospital wing? About me treating you like a child? You do not actually believe that I think of you as such?”

“I, well, sorta,” you stammered, a panic building in you. Maybe that kiss was unwanted, after all. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then, darling, I am sorry for that, too. It is not true.” He got up from his seat and knelt before you, never letting go of your hand. “Because you mean so much more to me than that. Because I love you.”

You launched yourself into his arms, kissing him again. He laughed in delight as the sudden force of it knocked him over, both of you landing on the ground, you on top of him. You didn’t even bother to get up.

“I love you, too,” you said before peppering his face with a thousand tiny kisses. “And I need you. I’ll always need you.

When you were done, he looked into your eyes for a second before kissing your lips again. It was heaven. Neither of you even noticed that the plane landed and ramp opened until you heard a wolf-whistle. You looked over to see Tony standing there.

“Well, Reindeer Games,” he smirked. “Looks like I was right, you two do love each other.”

You felt rather flustered as you and Loki sat up. Before you could come to your defense, Loki spoke, eloquent as ever.

“Yes, Stark, you were right,” he said, with eyes only for you, getting ready to kiss you again. “And I could not be happier.”

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escapewithbts · 3 years ago

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Forgetful - Seokjin

———————————————

You sat at the two person table by yourself just staring mindlessly at the menu. You could probably recite the whole entree list by heart at this point.

The dimly lit restaurant was crowded and filled with noises; dishes clanking, people laughing, the soft tune of music. It would have been the perfect atmosphere… had you not been there alone.

You sighed and glanced at your beautiful (and expensive) watch… one of the many gifts given to you by your boyfriend last Christmas.

It was 8:43. Your reservation had been for 43 minutes ago.

“Excuse me,” the perfect-looking hostess came up to you for the third time and spoke to you in Korean, “but we are super busy, as you can probably tell, and if you’re not going to order then we really need your table.”

You frowned and glanced down at your phone. Still no texts or missed calls.

“I know, I’m so sorry, can I just wait until nine? I don’t know why he’s taking so long, I’m sure he’s on his way…”

“So you’ve said,” she replied with a fake smile, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder and walking away.

Wow rude, much?

You stared at your phone, your vision becoming blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You hoped everything was okay with him. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he forgot.

You scrolled through his texts, the last from this morning around 10:30am saying he was beginning the shoot for the latest Run BTS! Episode and he would see you later. You assumed that meant here.

But he never showed.

You touched his contact to give him a call, but again it just rang and rang until you were again met with the automatic voicemail. You sighed and typed him another text.

Hey I’m leaving the restaurant now. I hope you’re okay. Please call or text when you get this.

Then you grabbed your things, stood up and walked towards the exit of the restaurant.

“Oh my god, it’s about time she left,” you heard the hostess whisper to someone as you walked passed her podium, “She claimed to be meeting a member of BTS here for dinner!”

Her snickering was the last thing you heard as you pushed open the door and went back out into the warm Seoul night.

By the time you made it home to your and Jin’s shared apartment you were exhausted and your feet absolutely ached from the heels you were wearing. You unlocked the door and went inside, immediately removing them and rubbing your swollen soles.

All of a sudden, you heard noises coming from the living room. Jin was home?

When you turned the corner there he was, sitting on the couch, laughing at some show playing on the tv and eating ramen from a bowl on his lap.

Your heart sank. He was okay. So what you had feared was true after all. He just forgot.

Forgot your one-year anniversary dinner.

“Oh hi, (y/n)-ah!” he exclaimed when he finally noticed you standing there, a heap of noodles dangling out of his mouth.

He swallowed them and continued,

“Wow, you look really pretty! Did you go out with your friends?”

Your eyes instantly welled up with tears and a couple fell down your cheeks before you could stop them. You tried to swipe them away abruptly with the back of your hand but Jin still noticed.

“Jagi, what’s wrong?”

He set his bowl on the coffee table in front of him and rose from his seat on the couch to walk over to you.

He reached his arms out to hold you, but you instantly stepped back to avoid his embrace.

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows confusingly, his large red lips turning into a frown.

“Jagiya? Is everything okay?”

You sniffled and glared at him.

“So you just don’t check your phone anymore?”

He immediately reached into the front pocket of his trousers and pulled it out.

“Aiishh it must have still been on silent from the shoot today. I’m sorry if I missed-”

He stopped mid sentence as he finally observed all your missed calls and read your texts.

His face fell.

“Oh… fuck. (y/n). Shit.”

He looked up at you, an expression of worry and guilt evident on his handsome face.

“(y/n), jagi, I’m so so so sorry. Fuck! I-I completely forgot. I got caught up with work and- ”

You put your hand up to silence him.

“I don’t want to hear it, Seokjin.”

He winced. He knew you only called him by his full first name on two occasions: one when you were really really pissed at him, the other when he was making really really good love to you… and right now it certainly was not the latter.

You brushed passed him and headed toward the hallway. You were tired and hurt, and now to top it all off you had a massive headache. All you wanted to do at this point was take a shower, go to bed and forget this evening ever happened.

But you heard Jin follow you toward your shared bedroom.

“(y/n), please, I’m really sorry. I know there aren’t any excuses. I fucked up. I really, really fucked up.”

You scoffed, not turning back to face him.

“Yeah, you think?”

He paused in thought for a moment.

“Well, what if-what if we celebrate now? I can cook you up some really delicious food, all your favorite foods from home! And-and we can light some candles, have dinner, spend the whole rest of the night together…”

You stopped in the bedroom doorway and swung your whole body around to face him again.

“No. It’s too late, Jin. I waited at the restaurant for an hour for you. I’m exhausted, okay? I just want to go to bed,” you paused, “So please. Just leave me alone.”

Jin’s shoulders fell in defeat as his gaze went to the floor. His arm lifted to scratch the back of his neck.

“O-okay,” he whispered.

Then he squinted his eyes tightly shut, and that was the last thing you saw as you let the bedroom door close in his face.

The warm shower felt amazing on your body, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that plagued your mind while in there. Jin had forgotten arguably the most important date in a relationship. What was next? Your birthday? The next anniversary? It made you feel like your relationship wasn’t important to him, like you were an afterthought. It hurt your heart.

Once you were clean and out of the shower, you changed into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Your head still ached immensely; you had hoped the shower would have fixed that, but all that overthinking had only made it worse. You knew Jin usually kept some pain medication in his nightstand for when his body was sore after a particularly grueling day of dancing, so you proceeded to his side of the bed and sat down on the edge, reaching for the top drawer.

Immediately upon opening it you spotted a red envelope, “My (y/n)” written across the top in Jin’s messy handwriting. You hesitated for a second whether or not to investigate it, but ultimately, with a shaky hand, you pulled it out. You took a deep breath before opening it and removing the card inside.

In an elegant font, the front of the card read ‘Happy Anniversary to the one I want to annoy for the rest of my days’, and written on the inside ‘Hey, that’s you!’.

You couldn’t help but stifle out a small chuckle, accompanied with an eye roll, of course. It was so Jin. Your Jin.

Your eyes then scanned his handwritten message next.

Jagiya,

Congratulations! You have been chosen by WWH Worldwide Handsome Kim Seokjin himself as the person who gets to be annoyed by him for the rest of your life! Don’t you feel so honored? It’s a coveted position, there’s only one spot, and you got it! We’ll talk about the details later 😉

No, but seriously, my (y/n), thank you for putting up with me for a whole year. I know I can be pretty obnoxious, silly, stupid, goofy, forgetful (ha, he got that one right for sure), busy and sometimes moody, but you have stuck with me through it all and I appreciate it. You are so special and I hope you know how lucky I feel to have you. You’re so supportive and patient and kind. I can’t wait to share many more anniversaries with you.

All my love,

Jin

You clutched the card to your chest, tears streaming down your face again. But this time you weren’t upset. You were touched. His words definitely didn’t excuse what he did (or rather didn’t do) this evening, but at least you knew how he truly felt about you. He really did love you. Your heart suddenly felt full.

You stood up, holding the card tightly, opening the bedroom door to go find him.

“Jin?” you yelled down the hall. But, to your surprise, he was right outside the bedroom doorway, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his long legs spread out in front of him, his phone in his hands.

“Jin I-“

But he quickly stood up and turned his phone to face you.

“Jagiya, look I downloaded an app where you can save all your important dates! And you can set it up for reminders days, even weeks beforehand! So I put in today, of course, and your birthday, but please don’t think I would ever forget that, and the day we went on our first date, the day I first cooked for you, the day-“

He stopped speaking when you suddenly stood on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. He immediately wrapped his around your lower back and squeezed you into him.

“I’m just so sorry, jagi.” he mumbled into your hair.

You nodded against his broad shoulder.

“I know.”

You pulled away and presented the card.

“I found this.”

Jin’s ears promptly turned bright red and he closed his eyes tightly. Then he put his head in his hands.

“Aiissh, it’s so cheesy, I’m sorry.”

You placed your hand on his upper arm, making him glance back down at you.

“No, Jinnie, not at all. It’s perfect. I loved it.”

He smiled, wrinkles forming at the sides of his eyes.

“See? I didn’t completely forget! I knew it was coming up. I just didn’t exactly remember when we were going to dinner and I should have-”

You placed your lips on his in a tender kiss to shut him up again. He pulled you closer to him, so your bodies were completely touching before you broke apart, still attached at the foreheads.

“Mmm Happy One Year Anniversary, my (y/n)-ah,” he breathed out.

You nuzzled your face into his strong neck.

“Happy Anniversary, my Worldwide Handsome.”

Masterlist

Hehe

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ithebookhoarder · 4 years ago

Text

Prequel Star Wars (Head-canons): Dealing with a sick reader

A/N: After the request for these head canons for the original trio I kind of got inspired for the other trios too... oops?

Masterlist:

Anakin:

Ok. There’s only one word for Anakin when you’re sick: worrier.

Yep. This man is on red alert real quick the minute you mention even thinking you feel a bit under the weather. In fact, he’d have you back in your chambers and buried under a pile of blankets before you can even try to tell him it isn’t necessary.

“You can’t be too careful, and you do feel rather warm. You may have a fever-”

“Anakin! Say that once you’ve felt my forehead again, but with your non-robotic hand this time.”

“Oh.”

It’s rather sweet actually, watching the way Anakin scurries about getting anything and everything you could possibly need.

It’s also ironic considering this is the man who always insists he is fine, even when he has blaster wounds all over him. He may have been adversed to letting people take care of him, but he’s only too eager to take care of you.

After all, since his mother died, you are all he really has in the way of family. He’s not about to let something as simple as a cold kill you.

So, you let him fuss, knowing it’s just as good for him as it is for you, to let him play nurse maid for a while.

“Do you need more pillows? I also can get Obi-wan to get some more of that tea you like from the market too if you want.”

“I’m fine, Ani.”

“Are you sure? You still look pale-“

“Just come cuddle with me, ok? Just a for a while?”

Needless to say, he’s only too happy to cradle you in his arms and let you drift off to sleep against him, softly humming under his breath as he brushes the hair off of you face.

This is how it stays for the next few days or so, until you’re finally strong enough to get back up and move around the temple.

Even then, Anakin is like a shadow, following you around incase you’re wrong and it turns out you’re not strong enough yet to be up and about.

“Ani, honey, I’m fine. I promise. I’m not made of glass, you don’t have to always worry something’s going to break me.”

He knows you’re right, even if he’s reluctant to admit it. So, he settles for a kiss and a compromise that you at least let Ahsoka keep an eye on you while you work. It has been nearly a week since either of you left your quarters and people were going to start getting suspicious soon if he didn’t let you be by yourself.

However, he doesn’t need to worry.

It’s only a day later he starts coughing and feeling sick himself.

It’s hard not to laugh at the irony as you take his arm and start hauling him back to bed, ready to return the favour. What was one more week of seclusion, just the two of you? At least this time you’d get to play nurse maid.

Obi-Wan:

Unlike Anakin, Obi-wan is rather calm when it comes to handling any kind of problem. So, when he finds you slumped over, face down, in the text you’d been trying to read in the archives, he merely chuckles.

“Darling, wake up. You fell asleep again.”

“Obi?” You blink, groaning as you try to sit up without falling over from the sudden dizziness you feel rushing through you.

Of course, one look at you is enough to tell him something is definitely wrong with you.

“Oh dear, you look dreadful.”

“Wow. Such a charmer.”

“I try,” he teases, helping you up and wrapping an arm around you as he starts to escort you back to your rooms. You need some rest, clearly, if you’ve become rundown enough to catch some kind of bug. It’s probably the same one that’s been going around the younglings recently.

“Here we are. Let’s get you changed and settled in to bed, alright?”

His voice is so soft and soothing as he mothers you, seeing to your every need with barely a complaint. He has you out of your robes and into something comfy in the blink of an eye. He also makes you some tea and retrieves some medication from his bathroom cabinet, insisting you take some before sleeping.

Obi-wan is also a patient man. Being Master to Anakin for the last ten years has ensured that, meaning he is more than prepared for your whining and moaning.

He simply smiles, laughing at the rather adorable pout you wear whenever he tries to get you to take some more medication or agree to stay in bed for another day.

“But I have a report due tomorrow for Master Fisto-“

“I’ve already explained the situation to him. He has someone else finishing it for him.”

“Well, I also have that class with the younglings-”

“Which Master Yoda has also agreed to cover, so you have nothing to worry about except recovering, alright?”

It is alright, despite you pretending otherwise. When else do you get to spend so much time along together? In fact, despite feeling like death warmed up, you rather like letting him take care of you and entertaining you with whatever book he’s been reading lately.

He always looks happiest when he has you nestled under his arm, and a book in his free hand. Needless to say, he has no problems reading you off to sleep every night, watching as you drift off by the time he’s finished another chapter.

“Sleep well, my love.”

And you do. You sleep remarkably well with Obi-wan next to you which is why, even after you’re better, you’re quick to invite him to sleep in your bed as many nights as you can.

You’re also eager to return the favour and read to him instead, as he eventually falls asleep to the sound of your voice night after night.

Who knew the great General Kenobi was so adorable when asleep?

Padme:

Now, Padme may be royalty, but she is a public servant first and foremost. Her entire life is dedicated to the service of others, so when she sees you struggling to keep yourself upright at your desk, she is all over you.

“Y/N? What is it? Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, Padme. It’s just stress.”

“Sure you are. Why else have you been staring at that page for the last hour and a half?”

She pauses, frowning at you and trying not to roll her eyes at your stoic nature. On one hand, it’s rather ironic for her to scold you when she herself has been known to burn the candle at both ends. However, there comes a point when it was impossible to ignore your body’s obviously worsening condition.

So, she swiftly orders you to bed and instructs a physician to check nothing is terribly wrong with you - even if you insist it isn’t necessary.

“Well, it is to me, alright?”

And of course, how can you say no to that sweet face when she pouts and bats her eyelids?

“Ugh! Fine!”

One annoyingly tedious check up later, you’ve been diagnosed with a mild stomach bug and told to rest for the remainder of the week.

“Here. I have some juice for you. You need fluids if you’re going to recover quicker.”

You smirk at the idea that a queen is serving you as she bursts into your room the following day, carrying a tray laden with fruit and a pitcher of your favourite juice.

You’re quick to thank her, downing the glass within seconds, much to her amusement.

“Thirsty are we?”

“And bored,” you whine, grinning as Padme passes you a data pad with a knowing wink. “You angel!”

“Hardly. You get one hour to work, ok? Then I’m taking it back and you’re having a nap? Understood?”

It seems like a fair enough compromise as you sit up and read the briefings she’s downloaded for you. In fact, by the time your hour is up, your eyes are drooping and you’re struggling to sit up by yourself.

“No protests? I am surprised.”

She clearly isn’t, but she’s too kind to say so as she kisses your forehead and clambers in to bed next to you as you nestle in close.

The soft scent of her perfume and the sound of her heartbeat is all the lullaby you need as you let yourself grab a few more hours of sleep.

A few days of this routine, and of Padme’s diligent care, and you’re back to your old self in no time.

In fact, a small part of you rather looks forward to the next time either one of you are sick given how nice it is to have the time to spend together.

So, you still insist on taking a nap together every afternoon despite being off bed rest. “Merely as a precaution” - or so you insist as you steal Padme from her office every day without fail for a small escape. “Wouldn’t want our favourite Senator to fall sick now, would we?”

#star wars #Star Wars fanfic #star wars imagine #star wars headcanons #obi wan kenobi #Obi-Wan Kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi-wan X reader #obi-wan x you #Anakin Skywalker #anakin x reader #padme x reader #Padme Amidala #Clone Wars #ithebookhoarder #prompt #request #masterlist #answered

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trio-of-dumbasses · 3 years ago

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Farmer Character Intro or something idk

This one is gonna be long because when it comes to OC, I have a ton of stuff I like to tell—and I just happen to be a huge fan of the character design process and just general art stuff.

Yeah, it's probably a little late to do this but bear with me, I only got to try Story of Seasons this year because of the 3DS eShop discontinuation making me pick up my 3DS to play new games I haven't thought of playing before outside my Pokemons and Fire Emblems (and dipping into homebrew here and there too; hence I found out the True Love mod for the game), and I swear I was NOT expecting to get into it—I'm not the type to really like this type of stuff... Then I realized that I already sunk 99 hours of my life into it, and shocker: I'm into this type of games.

So here we are, I got the brainworms and so, trio of dumbasses was made, to dump my dumb little art for it... And to test the brushes I download from Clip Studio Assets but never use because I already have the ones I go to for my usual style but still download because there's something in my ape brain that gives me dopamine when downloading brushes.

But enough of me, you're here for me OC, so let me introduce you to my farmer, Shinya. I'll just be going over what I wrote on my notes the past few weeks, so yeah—overall design thoughts, outfits, personality, a bit of background lore, etc. It's probably a bit of a read so brace yourselves. (Also feel free to talk to me if anyone wants to do art or OC content together, I'm shy but yes)

I tried to make him as accurate to the in-game model (emphasis on the tried). It should be indicated somewhere there what hairstyles I used were. And for the outfits, well, I initially just went with Work Clothes and Suspenders because it was one of the few outfits I had, then for the seasonal outfits I just thought "Well, if he's from the city, then maybe he has more modern clothes with him" HAHAHA, though I do want to have a specific outfit to go to for every season, I think that's just cool. Needless to say, Shinya's image color is Light Red.

Shinya's around 24 years old around the time he starts his farm (which I named Sauce Farm, for some reason), and as to explain how he has red hair while the rest of his known family's hair color is blonde/sandy brown, he's actually Daryl's child from a previous marriage. He pursues his dream to become a farmer to spite his father, who is reluctant to let him be one, to the point that he declined a lucrative job offer just to show him that he's not joking around when he says he says he wants to open a farm, causing Daryl to allow him to experience the farming life. Yes, he's a college graduate and he has a degree in Engineering.

An addition I added (according to my notes I'm taking all these from), is that he has a twin sister (my head's equivalent to Holly/Nanami) who's away from home herself, pursuing a Masters, who is pen pals with Kasumi, for some reason.

Also, Shinya used to be a delinquent when he was younger, though he seems to have softened over time. He's married to Ford and while a loving husband, is willing to make a few jokes at the latter's expense, usually around his attempts to be affectionate such as the time he lost a contest, Ford told him to "jump in his arms", flustering Shinya for a little before he bursts into laugher.

Personality-wise, I imagine Shinya to be a chill guy that likes to joke around and liven up the mood; depending on who he's with, he's either the straight man or the funny man of the group. Sometimes he can come off as rude or so, probably, but he usually means well; and sometimes he uses his fists to show gratitude too. He's a reliable person, I imagine, who uses his background in engineering to improve the three towns' infrastructure, beginning with South Westown's bridge. He's someone that probably wants everything to go well, or better, as planned so as to help him gain his father's approval, and will get sad or upset when things don't go his way or when he loses, though he would probably hide it under a smile, or something. I see him as someone who would do reckless and irrational decisions under extreme stress or possibly overwork himself, or at least stretch himself thin.

He enjoys fishing, he also likes horseback riding with his horse, Twi, whom he always rides when visiting the towns and doing part-time jobs. And though he still raises plants, ever since he was able to utilize Westown's mining nodes, he's spent more time mining than growing crops.

Despite Ford being a bad cook, Shinya seems to genuinely love his husband's cooking.

#story of seasons #trio of towns #sos:3ot #oc

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btxtreads · 4 years ago

Text

Stuck on You

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: ILLUSION

↳ Pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader

↳ word count: 2k words

↳ rating: PG

↳ genre: fluff, angst

Y/N released a deep breath, clutching the bathrobe close to her body as she trudged over to the jaccuzzi. The girl pursed her lips as she shivered at the cold breeze blowing by.

As soon as she arrived at the jaccuzzi, her eyes immediately landed on a shirtless figure submerged in the tub—eyes staring up at the starless sky. His hair fell in front of his eyes as he sighed softly, eyes lowering down to lock gazes with her.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said in surprise, raising his eyebrows. “you’re here.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/N shrugged. “Everyone can use the jaccuzzi right?”

“Yeah, most of them are partying or staying in their rooms, though.” Soobin pursed his lips. “What are you doing here?”

Y/N didn’t answer, trying to find a response as Soobin crossed his arms.

“Soobin,” she started softly. “I-I want to talk.”

“Oh, so now we can talk?” Soobin scoffed. “You’ve been ignoring me the whole day, I just wanted to be with you but you acted like I had the plague or something.”

“I was confused.” Y/N replied, sitting down at the side of the jacuzzi and dipping a finger in the water to avoid looking at the boy. “I had a lot of things to think about.”

“Like Beomgyu?”

“Like Yunhee.” Y/N said, exasperated. “Like the fact that you like her and that’s why we’re here.”

“Y/N, you don’t know that.”

“Actually, I do.” Y/N shook her head. “We had a whole ass contract for it, you don’t have to lie—and isn’t this better? You sat with her on the bus ride here, and I saw you talking to her in the lobby.”

Soobin didn’t answer, lips only tilting up slightly as he shook his head.

“I wanted to sit with you.” He softly replied. “I got your favorite snacks and everything, and I downloaded your favorite movies you always wanted me to watch.”

Y/N’s eyes widened a little as she processed what the boy said, blinking in confusion as Soobin shook his head.

“I had my mom teach me how to cook for this, you know.”

“You did?”

Soobin’s eyes flitted up to her, a smile on his face.

“Of course, it’s for you. Why not?”

Y/N sighed, turning back to the hotel building with a sigh.

“Sorry we didn’t get to do that.” Y/N said once more, pursing her lips.

“Food’s still in my room.”

“Tae and Kai probably broke into your suitcase and ate it all by now.” Y/N laughed, spirit lifting up at Soobin’s soft chuckles.

There was a moment of silence before Soobin straightened up.

“How can you be so smart yet so oblivious?”

Y/N shot him a confused look, making him roll his eyes.

“It’s nothing,” Soobin said, shaking his head with a sigh and a smile. “You can join me now. Come on.”

Y/N smiled, rising up and pulling her bathrobe away and revealing her swimwear—making the boy grin. His eyes raked her figure as he chuckled.

“How long were you planning to sit in the cold if you had plans to swim with me anyways?”

“Until you either invite me in or tell me to leave.”

“And if I wanted you to stay?”

Y/N didn’t answer as she waded over to stand next to Soobin. There was another moment of silence before the taller boy turned to her.

“Were you waiting for someone?” Y/N asked, turning over to him.

Soobin didn’t reply, instead, he turned his body—caging her in as he cupped his hands around her face, leaning down to press his lips on hers. The girl didn’t respond, causing the boy to pull away softly.

“I-I’m sorry, I know this isn’t in the contract.” Soobin said. “I just had to one last time, and—“

Y/N cut him off reaching out to pull on the back of his neck, tilting her head up to catch his lips with hers as his hands immediately fell on her hips and pressed her back against the walls. She can feel Soobin’s lips wrap around her bottom lip, sucking lightly before he pulled away.

His wet hands reached up, brushing her hair behind her ear as he searched her eyes.

“I’m not ready to let you go yet.” He whispered softly, leaning his forehead on hers.

“Then, don’t.” Y/N whispered back, grinning at his smile before he leaned back down and crashed his lips against hers.

After many kisses and loving gazes later, Y/N and Soobin sat next to each other in the bus on the way home the next day. In front of them was Yeonjun, who took up two seats for himself and across was Kai and Taehyun—sleeping with their heads leaning against each other.

Soobin’s hand tightly gripped hers and they giggled, talking about sweet nothings for the rest of the trip. The boy leaned down, pressing loving kisses to her lips every once in a while. His arms would wrap around her figure with a satisfied smile, sighing as she leaned back against his chest.

It remained this way until the bus stopped in front of the school, the couple leaving the bus hand in hand as a sleepy Yeonjun, Taehyun and Kai followed them.

“I’m calling mom to pick me and Tae up.” Kai slurred sleepily as he wandered off, hands clumsily pulling his phone out.

Taehyun and Yeonjun agreed to take their things from the trunk, making Soobin roll his eyes.

“I’ll get our stuff.” Soobin hummed, turning over to the girl to press a soft kiss to her lips. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Y/N smiled as the three boys wandered off, standing idly at the sidewalk as she waited. It was at this point when a girl approached her—a familiar grey hoodie wrapped around her body. Still, Y/N paid her no mind, pursing her lips as she waited for her friends to come back. She can see Soobin’s head from afar, his eyes bright as he chatted with one of their classmates.

“I’m glad you’re such a cool girlfriend, Y/N.”

Y/N sighed, turning slightly as she smiled at the girl next to her.

“Hey, Yunhee.” Y/N sid, raising her eyebrows. “What was that?”

“I said, you’re a cool girlfriend.” Yunhee smiled. “I mean, most girlfriends won’t let their boyfriends hang out inside their ex-girlfriends’ hotel rooms unmonitored, right?”

Y/N froze, eyes hardening as she smiled stiffly.

“Really?”

“Oh,” Yunhee’s eyes widened comically. “You didn’t know? He did it last night. Just until I got sleepy.”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer, a hurt expression dancing across her face. However, Y/N eyes fell towards Yunhee’s wrist as she brushed her hair. A familiar bracelet rested on her hands, making Y/N’s heart ache.

“Where did you get that?”

“Hm?” Yunhee raised her eyebrows. “Oh, this? From Soobin! I think it’s pretty, don’t you think? He gave it to me.”

Y/N didn’t answer, her eyes still stuck on the bracelet as Yunhee smiled brightly.

“I should go, bye Y/N.” Yunhee giggled. “Good luck with Binnie.”

Y/N only watched as Yunhee sauntered off.

“Ew, what was that about?” Yeonjun fake gagged as he, Soobin and Taehyun arrived back—luggages in her hands.

“What did she want?” Soobin asked, pressing a soft kiss against her neck.

Instead of melting against him like she usually would, Y/N’s eyes hardened as she turned to the boy.

“We have to talk.” She mumbled, pulling him away.

Yeonjun and Taehyun glanced at each other, shrugging as the couple left. Soobin blinked in confusion as they entered the empty field, furrowing his eyebrows in concern when the girl released him and paced angrily.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Don’t.” Y/N sighed angrily, holding herself back as she turned over to him. “Did you go to her last night?”

Soobin opened and closed his mouth, wracking his brain for answers making a hurt dance across her eyes.

“Soobin, did you go to her?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.” Y/N pleaded, holding herself back as she bit her lip. “Did you?”

“Just a little while, that’s all.” Soobin mumbled. “She wanted to chat. I promise, that’s it.”

“If that’s it—why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N whispered, shaking her head before asking him another question. “Before or after the hot tub?”

Soobin hesitated, looking down at his hands.

“Soobin.”

“Why is that important?”

By this point, Y/N was holding her tears back. She can feel her heart breaking in her chest.

“Fine.” Y/N spoke, stilling herself as she held her head up. “My bracelet—I told you it was important. Why did she have it?”

“I—She took it.” Soobin sighed. “I was occupied so, I forgot to take it back. I swear.”

“You forgot or you didn’t want to?”

Soobin stepped forward, taking her hands.

“Y/N, it’s not like that.” Soobin said.

His words didn’t help at all. Hurt and heartbreak danced across Y/N’s features, and Soobin can feel his own heart crack at the tears pooling in her eyes.

“Baby.”

“You didn’t stop her from taking it—why?”

“Y/N, stop.”

“Is it because it’s her? Because she wanted it?”

“Y/N—“

“You just can’t say no to her, can you?”

Y/N softly pulled herself away from his grasp, shaking her head as tears fell down her cheeks.

“It’s because you still love her, right?” Y/N chuckled sarcastically. “All this time I was holding onto some stupid illusion that maybe it’s my turn to be chosen. How stupid was I?”

Soobin tried to reply, tried to find a way to defend himself and stop her from leaving—but he felt his thoughts go haywire when he saw her slowly backing away from him. Guilt and hurt crept up his chest as he stepped forward once more.

“Y/N, wait—“

“That’s enough.” An irritated voice piped up before a hand grasped the girl’s arm.

“Beomgyu?” asked as the boy stepped forward, running a hand through his hair.

The said boy shot Y/N a quick smile before shooting a glare at Soobin.

“You’ve done enough for today.” Beomgyu said to the older before placing his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go home.”

“Y/N, wait.” Soobin said, rushing forward and grabbing her hand. Y/N turned back to him, and so did Beomgyu—who had an annoyed expression. “Please don’t leave with him. Let me explain.”

“Okay.” Y/N said, turning back to him expectantly as Yeonjun arrived at the scene—frantic eyes dancing between the three. “Explain, Soobin.”

Soobin didn’t reply.

His eyes were frantically shifting between Y/N, their joined hands, Beomgyu, a frantic Yeonjun and a confused Taehyun and Kai. Soobin ran his hands through his hair as he stuttered, trying to find a way to justify his actions.

“The bracelet was—I went to—“ Soobin wracked his thoughts before sighing and looking up. “I didn’t think the bracelet was that important.”

Beomgyu walked back up to the couple, prying Soobin’s hand off of the girl before dragging her away—Y/N only following sullenly as Soobin called after her. With an angry expression, Yeonjun walked forward and slammed Soobin’s car keys against his chest.

“Hyung—“

“The bracelet was one of the things Y/N’s parents gave her for a job well done when we were still kids—and you know how insecure Y/N is with her sister.” Yeonjun explained. “But even if it were useless, she told you it was important, but you didn’t care enought o remember that.”

“Hyung, I—“

“Do you even like her at least a little bit?”

Soobin’s eyes widened as he looked up at the elder, almost offended at the insinuation that he didn’t.

“Hyung, of course I do!” Soobin argued. “I can’t imagine what I’ll do without her—“

“Then, show it.” Yeonjun said, shaking his head. “I’ve had enough of people treating her like shit. I just thought you wouldn’t be one of them.”

Soobin stayed silent, mulling over his thoughts as Yeonjun scoffed.

“Guess I was wrong.”

The tall boy can only watch as Yeonjun stormed off, his heart breaking as he thought of the girl he let down.

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cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

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Neo Got My Back (Jaehyun x reader)

a/n : a domestic Jaehyun fluff scenario!

enjoy! you all deserve a ( good bed time) story.. though I hope this is good enough..

warning : mentions of past incident of almost dying but nah you lived :D, some slight cursing

tagging @yutahoes who might like this domestic jaehyun and ofc @neopalette

--- here goes nothing ----

It’s starting to get dark outside and your house still feels empty. You walk around the small room holding your phone while checking if there is any new message or a call. It’s been a long day for you to finish your works and take care of your dog that’s feeling a bit under the weather. You give up waiting for a reply and choose to just leave your phone and take care of your sick dog.

“Neo, come here.” You make yourself comfortable on the floor and pat your lap as the small Labrador walks slowly to you.

“Aw look at you, you’re still sick but feeling better?” you ask when the good boy wags its tail

“Are you excited to meet daddy?” you coo at your pal and he licks your cheek. You giggle and kiss him back “I also miss Jaehyun, don’t worry he is coming home tonight.”

Your dog seems to understand what you said, maybe its because he heard Jaehyun and home in one sentence and your tone sounds happy. If you are happy, then Neo is happy.

“Let’s try to eat some more, you’re not eating as much as usual and I don’t find that settling.” You reach on the dog food you’ve prepared before hand and try to feed Neo.

He eats, but without much energy. You’re sad actually to see him acting like this, at night he also whimpers some soft painful growl. You’re planning to take him to the vet if he’s whimpering again tonight.

“Are you sick or are you just acting up to see Jaehyun?” you tease your Labrador, who once were caught acting sick just to bring Jaehyun home. Jaehyun loves Neo to the point where he is willing to drop his business to come and hug this good boy. Maybe it’s because Neo once saved your life.

You told Jaehyun about the story where Neo saved you from almost drowning in the beach when you were a teenager. Since then, Jaehyun’s love to Neo sort of jumps over the moon. He said he ought Neo everything because thanks to Neo he got to meet you.

Your dog finishes his dinner and proceed to lay on his bed to sleep, maybe he is not feeling well. You put your worry aside and grab your phone again, checking if Jaehyun actually replied your message or called you.

Nothing. No messages, no calls. He must be busy in the office, you thought to yourself. Trying your best to stay calm and think of positive things. You trust Jaehyun, he won’t be home late for any other reasons other than caught up with work or stuck in the road.

Jaehyun sighs and glances on his watch again. It’s already one hour past his regular go home time and his phone battery died the moment he was about to tell you he will be home late.

Well the project he is working on this month has a change on the product launching date, so the team has to rush things up and make sure they’re ready for the launching next week.

His attempt to stay calm with tuning into his favorite radio channel fails. Not even his music playlist can calm him down. He knows you’re probably worried something bad happens to him without news or update from him to you and that is not settling in his heart.

“I am so sorrryyyy..” he mutters to himself when he sees the red lights and rows of cars all crawling in the night street. Why must the road be congested today?

He made it into your neighborhood and at that moment he realized something.

“Shit, I forgot to download the Netflix movie she wanted to watch.” Jaehyun internally curses himself. Works really preoccupied his mind to the point where he forgot. Well he hopes you won’t be mad and just let him download it for awhile to avoid pauses.

The lift ride to your room is not helping. With the lift keeps on stopping on different floor, he has to hold his patience and not cry in there when the door once again opens and he’s still halfway to your floor.

The man with a nice fitted suit finally steps out of the crowded lift. His face shows how tired he is, but the smile he has in his face upon imagining the face of his lover and faithful pal is bright enough.

Jaehyun takes a deep breath when he presses the six-digit combination lock to your home and once he presses the handle down, all of his exhaustion seems to leave his shoulder.

The familiar scent of your favorite aroma therapy candle greets him. Slowly Jaehyun takes off his shoes and when he did not see you or get a surprising jump from you, he knows you’re probably in your room doing works or maybe playing with Neo.

His steps resonate through the room, first the kitchen looks bright with a nice simple dinner nicely arranged on the table. Though it’s no longer steaming, Jaehyun can feel his stomach rumbles.

“(Y/n)?” he calls your name slowly after putting his working bag and suit aside. His hand unties his tie as he uncuffs his buttons and walk to look for you.

“Oh you’re asleep?” he talks to himself in whispers when he finds you laying down sleeping on the sofa with Neo cuddled next to you, despite the lack of space!

Gently he tucks your hair aside from your face and leans in to kiss your forehead. “Sorry for being home late.”

You twist in your sleep and slowly open your eyes. Blinking your sleep away and gathering your energy to process what is this. Is this a dream or is this Jaehyun?

Your hand reach out to touch his cheeks and when you feel it you smile. “Hello love,” you yawn and hug his torso.

“I haven’t showered or changed.” he runs a hand on your hair and the other free hand is already rubbing Neo’s chin.

“It’s okay, you can shower later.” You mumble as you bury your face into his torso.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, definitely knowing he hasn’t eaten yet.

He nods “I am hungry.”

“I can heat the food for you. Take a bath quick.” You push him to the toilet. He laughs and ruffles your hair before leaving to take his towel and clothes.

You bring Neo with you to the kitchen, and start to heat the food again.

Seeing Jaehyun still try his best to smile in front of you despite his stress and tiring job, makes you feel grateful and that the only way you can pay him back is by giving him the attention and cares he deserves.

He returns with a brighter face and a comfortable tee shirt and sweats. You’re done with heating the foods and so you join him sitting on the other end of the table as you scoop him some foods into his plate.

“Thank you, you cooked this?” he asks while taking small bites on the foods. Knowing his best to not expect too much when you are a terrible cook.

You bite your lips “I tried a receipt from Taeyong’s website.” You look up at him with expectations, couldn’t be that bad right? You’ve been practicing for a while. Jaehyun nods and eats more “I guess you improved?” he chuckles when you let out a delightful clap

“I am glad!” you grin. “I am ready to be your housewife.” You tease him.

He giggles and reaches out for more kimchi “Who made this kimchi? So good.”

You roll your eyes “Mom.”

“Ah, learn from her first to make this good kimchi, then you can marry me.” He playfully pokes your cheek and you pout at him “You hold your words. If I succeed making that kimchi, you’re marrying me.”

He flashes his ring finger to you, the one with a couple promise ring he has with you and winks “I am more than ready to change this ring into a diamond one.”

You blush “Keep your words okay. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He nods “I am. I am going to keep my words. Right Neo? You are our witness.”

The dog barks and stays under the table accompanying the warm night both of you spend together.

“About not replying to your text, I am sorry my phone died, and I don’t bring my charger with me today.” He brushes his hair away from his eyes.

You nod “I knew it, you and your hobby of running out of batteries. I’m just afraid something bad happens.”

“No, don’t worry. It’s just we had to take over time to finish a project for next week. Sorry to keep you waiting.” He raises from the chair and brings his plates to the dish.

You quickly keep the remaining foods into the refrigerator while Jaehyun takes the gloves and starts to wash the sink.

“Ow poor you, did you finish it? Things are okay?” you lean on the counter next to him.

“Yes, I can go home because I finished my parts.”

“Good then,” you pat his shoulder “You must be tired, let’s-“

He cuts you in “About Netflix-“ he takes a sharp pause “I am so sorry we have to postpone watching A Whisker Away, I haven’t downloaded it yet.”

You smile and rubs his shoulder “Don’t worry, the film is not going to disappear! Let’s rest instead. You had a long day and I want to cuddle with you.”

Jaehyun smiles and jumps into your side, he hugs you and pulls the cover over you both “Okay, cuddle it is then! Come here, let me hug you until you beg me to stop.” He peppers you with raspberry kisses on your neck and arm and you giggle loudly.

“love you Jae!” you kiss him quick to which the other man smiles and kisses you back “And I love you most.”

end

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whimsicallyreading · 4 years ago

Text

Eight Second Ride

Part Three-

(Part Two)

“So you are telling me-“ Aedion scowls from the other side of her bed, “you ditched me for a sweaty bull rider and didn’t even last an hour into the date?”

Aelin shoves a spoonful of cookies and cream ice cream into her mouth and sniffles. “That’s all you got from my story?”

He slings an arm over Aelin’s shoulders and she lays her head on his chest gratefully. She’d caught an Uber back to her apartment where Aedion was already camped out waiting for her.

One look at her mascara smeared face, and he’d made a pillow fort on her bed. Complete with ice cream and “Little Women” playing on his phone.

“No, I got the whole chauvinistic asshole, bit.” Aedion stabs his spoon into the container and breaks up a particularly large piece of Oreo. “I just decided to focus on the part that doesn’t make me want to leave you hear and go and kill him right now.”

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be classy.” Aelin watched Jo play with her sisters in their attic on Aedion’s tiny screen. “Take city girls into the country to ride a horse and show them a bigger purpose in life, kind of shit.”

“Hallmark is such a liar.” Aedion huffs and squeezes her shoulder a little tighter. “I’m sorry, Lin. I know going out tonight was a big step for you. It’s a shame he acted the way he did.”

It was rare Aelin acted on a whim these days. Not like she used to do when she was in high school. She felt a pull to go with Rowan, but her gut had led her into a situation that could have gone south very quickly.

It’s a hard thing when you can’t trust yourself.

“No. I shouldn’t have gone. Especially not alone.” Aelin’s feels her thoughts drifting. Creeping towards that iron box of memories she keeps locked tight. “It’s my mistake.”

“No.”

The fervor in Aedion’s voice draws her attention up to his face, and Aelin is jarred by the intensity of his expression. “Aedion-“

“It’s not your fault.” His voice is gravely, and his blue eyes flicker like the heart of a flame. “I don’t give a shit what that bastard thought you accepting his invitation meant. You don’t owe him sex because he buys you a drink.”

“Aedion-“ Aelin tries to interrupt again. A new wave of tears burns her eyes, but Aedion is on a roll and he isn’t going to quite down until he gets out what’s on his mind.

“You don’t deserve to be treated like an object that can be bought.” Aelin can’t look him in the eyes any longer, but a calloused hand guides her face to the crook of his neck.

“His friends are shitty. He should have made them shut up. Ogling you, and making you feel unsafe and uncomfortable aren’t funny jokes.” Aedion goes on as Aelin sniffles into his shirt.

“You deserve respect. It doesn’t matter what you are wearing, what he buys you, or what his expectations are. His behavior isn’t your fault.” Aedion whispers against the top of her head.

Aelin wraps the arm that isn’t squished under her, around his waist. “I love you, Brother Wolf.”

“I love you too, Fireheart.” Aedion kisses her forehead and tugs her closer, the old terms of endearment are exchanged between them with ease.

“I know you are still dealing with everything that happened a couple years ago. I’m happy to remind you how worth it you are whenever you need.”

Aedion was an island of safety in the turbulent ocean of her life. Even when Aelin was small, she’d often go to him before her own parents with her problems. He was steady, and calm. The exact opposite of her own personality.

After the incident, he hadn’t rested until she was safely at his side again. Aedion stood by her faithfully as she picked up the broken pieces of her life and held her hand as she tried to make something new from them.

“How come you already had this movie downloaded onto your phone?” Aelin teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you suddenly develop a sense of taste?”

Aedion purses his lips. “Lysandra said this movie is, and I quote, the most accurate depiction of the female experience.” He shakes his head. “I’ve tried to watch it three times, and I still can’t figure out what it’s even about.”

“You are a simple minded creature, cousin.” Aelin grabs her spoon and scoops a melty bite of ice cream into her mouth. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Anytime, Lin.” He leans his cheek on her head as the scene on his phone shifts from the cooler grey tones of the present, back to the warm colors that represented better days. “Anytime.”

~~~

The day started off better than she expected.

Aedion was gone when she woke up- he had to rise at an ungodly hour to make it to the fire station on time.

Yet, he set her alarm clock for her so Aelin woke up in time to get ready for work. He’d also set a glass of water and an Advil tablet on her bedside table to curb the headache she was sure to have from crying.

Aelin made it out the door with enough time to stop and get coffee on the way. She even splurged and got a chocolate hazelnut Frappuccino with enough sugar to smooth her wounded feelings.

It was going so well, Aelin should have known it was the universe winding up to screw her.

It was only a couple hours before she closed shop when Lorcan Salvaterre stepped through her front door.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” Were the first words from his mouth. His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Rowan is going to flip when I tell him I actually found you.”

“What are you doing here?” Aelin’s slammed a stack of books on the counter.

Lorcan looked pensive. “Rowan said you mentioned owning a book store-“ he drags a hand through his dark hair. “I felt like I ruined his chance with you, so I thought I maybe if I apologized-“

“Let me stop you there,” Aelin didn’t bother looking at him as she labeled books and organized them into stacks. “You didn’t ruin anything, you didn’t help, but he screwed up all by himself.”’

“He realizes that,” Lorcan quickly defends, his voice gruff with irritation. “If I can give him your number I’m sure he will grovel for himself.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and slides another stack to the end of the counter. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?” She can tell he’s losing his patience with her. Lorcan’s remorse only went so far, apparently.

Aedion’s words from earlier rang in her ears as she repeated them back to the man. “He was overbearing the entire time. Had double standard opinions about my life, and disrespected my boundaries.”

Aelin watched as Lorcan shifted on his feet, itching to say something but obviously refraining. Measuring his words carefully he looked her dead in the eye. “Look. He was just trying to impress you. Rowan doesn’t go out often. Don’t you think you are blowing this a little out of proportion?”

Red. Aelin saw red. Tasted it. Like iron in her mouth. Or maybe that was just the blood from biting her tongue so hard. “I’m working right now. You don’t strike me as extremely literate, but I have to ask for you to either buy something or leave.”

Lorcan glowered at her. “Fine.” He turns to walk out, but Aelin hears him call her a bitch under his breath.

Just then, Elide walks inside the shop doors. A backpack slung over her shoulder, finished with her classes at Rifthold U and prepared to work the evening shift with her.

Aelin is relieved for the interruption and about to take full advantage of it, when the small, brown-haired girl catches sight of Lorcan and beams like a rutting lighthouse.

“Lorcan! I didn’t know you were coming into my work, what a surprise.”

Elide. One of her best friends, runs up to the six-two tower of misogynistic cow boys and flings her arms around him. Hugs him.

Ellie she recalls the name being thrown out last night. She hadn’t put two and two together. Ellie was a common name. Of all the people in this city it had to be Elide, Aelin mentally bemoans.

She wonders if Elide knew how her cowboy behaved when she wasn’t around.

It doesn’t matter. Lorcan is all too aware of Aelin’s eyes boring into his skin, and knows he needs to make a quick get away.

“Ellie,” Lorcan pulls away from her. “I just had to see this book shop you are always talking about.”

He kisses her head, and looks at her with feigned remorsefulness. “I must have gotten your shifts mixed up in my head, though. I’m afraid I have to go. We booked a training time for six and I need to brush down Nettie before we start.”

“Oh,” Elide says, a look of genuine disappointment on her face. “That’s fine. Are we still on for a movie tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. He pecks her one more time on the lips and tips his chin towards Aelin. Anger still bubbling in his eyes. “Good day, ma’am.”

Aelin releases a breath when the doors close behind him.

“I’m so sad I missed him.” Elide frowns, tossing her back pack behind the counter. “At least you got to meet him. What did you think? He’s absolutely dreamy, right?”

Aelin chokes back a gag. “Yeah. He was really charming.”

“And get this,” Elide smiles. “He’s a cowboy. Like an actual, real life cowboy. He rides pulls and does team roping. It’s sexy.”

Aelin can’t hide the grimace this time. “You are like my baby sister. I never want to hear the words sexy from your mouth again.”

At least, never in the context of Lorcan. They’d had plenty of boy talk before.

“He even carries a rope.” Elide wags an eyebrow. “Better to tie me up when we-“

Aelin holds a book over her face. “I’m not listening to this! I will file a report with HR.”

Elide laughs. “You are the boss, Lin. You know we don’t have an HR.”

“I need to get one now,” Aelin grumbles. “I don’t need an image of yours and Lorcan’s naked asses in my head.”

She wanted Lorcan out of her head entirely. Along with Rowan and the rest of their cadre.

“Fine,” Elide sighs wistfully. “One day you will be in love and I won’t hold it against you when you want to talk about whatever babe you wind up with.”

Her eyes get a mischievous glint. “Actually- Lorcan has some really cute friends. I could set you up with?”

Aelin’s brain banks. “No. No thank you. I like being alone. I’m more than enough company for myself.”

“Come on, a double date would be fun!” Elide whines and tugs on her arm. “You never go out any more. We could have a great night out.”

An image of the twins cutting lines on the bar flash across her mind and make her shudder.

“I said no, Elide.” Aelin says a bit more harshly then she intends, but Elide gets the point and backs off.

“Sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Instead of anger she looks at Aelin worriedly.

She kind of hates that more.

“Thanks.” She shakes her head and tries to clear the residual stress from her head. “I have to set up a new shelf display. Want to help?”

Elide lights back up at the prospect. She loved designing and organizing. They have a great time setting displays up together and Aelin knew it would take her mind away from the tension she’d created.

She just really hoped that Elide dating Lorcan wouldn’t drag any drama into her own life. Aelin didn’t care what half asses excuses Lorcan made, she wasn’t interested in seeing Rowan again.

Hello! I’m so glad I got this posted today. 😂 I’m hoping to get the next chapter of DRNS out tomorrow. After that, my birthday is next Tuesday and I reaaallly want to do a mass update of all my fics then as a hooray to 21. (Yes. That is what I’m doing for my 21st 🤣) Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List- (Let me know if you would like to be removed or added!)

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yellowocaballero · 4 years ago

Text

The Crow’s Funeral Snippet: Jon Gets Involved In Local Politics, Regrets It

Annabelle, of course, was standing on the other side of the door.

Slightly less obviously, she was dressed in a finely tailored suit, complete with high heels and a gorgeous dripping silver chain-link necklace. Her hair was tied up in an up-do of braids piled neatly on top of her head, and there was even a briefcase.

She looked Jon up and down critically. He was wearing sweatpants and a holey shirt.

“You forgot,” she condemned, “didn’t you?”

“No I didn’t,” Jon said reflexively. He paused. “Forgot what?”

Annabelle pinched the bridge of her nose. Jon noticed that she was even wearing her usual all-black lipstick and winged eyeliner. “The council committee for London I planned for today. Remember? The one with a representative for each Entity?” Jon stared blankly at her. “There was an invite?”

“Oh, that. I don’t check my mail.” Jon looked at Daisy, who was now pressing aggressively against Jon. “Did you open up any mail recently?” Daisy barked. Jon looked back at Annabelle. “She ate it.”

“...of course she did.” Written for no real reason besides for the fact that I know too much about my own AU and I care about Annabelle. This story takes place both pre- and post- story: six months after Jon enters London, and six months after the events of the story. We talk about childhood/adulthood, stagnancy/growth, good/evil, and the inherent metaphor of a Nintendo DS. Sometimes...found family...is bad. Rest under the cut.

In the third month, boiling and bubbling over, someone knocked at Jon’s door.

Not the door to his office. The door to his flat, which had a very large ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ sign on it, and was always locked. The employees were, granted, Jon and Daisy, but the message was conveyed. Jon saw the sign in stores and copied it, as he copied many aspects of business models. Jon didn’t quite understand how to run a business, but he had read both ‘What they teach you in Harvard Business School’ - whatever a Harvard was - and ‘What they don’t teach you in Harvard Business School’, so he figured he was set. Daisy had also grabbed him a Girl Scout book on starting your own lemonade stand, which helped more than the other two books combined. Harvard Business School could take notes.

Jon rolled off the bed, where he had been downloading knowledge of string games and trying to figure out how to do them. Omniscence was closer to reading an instruction manual than actually knowing how to do something, but at least that left Jon with plenty of time to learn skills. Even if it wasn’t necessarily his favorite activity - he was bad at a lot of them, which would frustrate him and make him wreck the craft. Daisy kept on saying he needed a hobby other than reading but what did she know, anyway -

Daisy, from where she had been sleeping at the foot of the bed, lifted her head and barked sleepily.

“I’ll get them to go away,” Jon promised. Or eat them. Maybe just eat them.

But when Daisy bristled and jumped off the bed, barking heavily, he knew who it was. Jon sighed, hastily shoving a shirt over his head, and undid the three deadbolts before unlocking the door.

Annabelle, of course, was standing on the other side. Slightly less obviously, she was dressed in a finely tailored suit, complete with high heels and a gorgeous dripping silver chain-link necklace. Her hair was tied up in an up-do of braids piled neatly on top of her head, and there was even a briefcase.

She looked Jon up and down critically. He was wearing sweatpants and a holey shirt.

“You forgot,” she condemned, “didn’t you?”

“No I didn’t,” Jon said reflexively. He paused. “Forgot what?”

Jon stared blankly at her.

“There was an invite?”

“...of course she did.” Annabelle glanced down at Daisy, whose fur was standing on end as she growled lowly. “Have you had any success?”

“You would have noticed if I did,” Jon said shortly.

“Have you tried talking to -”

“Yes,” Jon snapped, “but apparently some of us have better things to do than attend meetings and cure dogs.”

Annabelle intelligently dropped the matter, instead frowning at Jon. He crossed his arms, fighting the urge to hunch over away from her dark and perceptive stare. But instead of pushing him, she said, “Go get dressed in something a little appropriate, please. You look like you crawled out of the Buried.” Daisy barked, which Annabelle ignored. “What are you doing to your hair?”

Jon hunched defensively. It was a little matted and frizzy, but who was counting? “Daisy can’t exactly shave it anymore, and I don’t really...know what to do with it...am I doing something wrong? I bathe.”

It was very important to Daisy that he bathe and brush his teeth. Jon didn’t know what the big deal was, but if it was important to her then he did it.

Annabelle just pinched the bridge of her nose again, checking her wrist-watch. “Buzzing your hair is a crime against God, and letting your hair look like that is a crime against me. I’ll take care of this later. Just get ready in the next five minutes, or I’m filling your fridge with spiders again.”

Jon got ready in four. Annabelle didn’t joke around with that stuff.

He didn’t really know what a council committee was. He didn’t know why he had to go to one either, seeing as Jon only tended to concern himself with Daisy. Daisy had been taking up a lot of his concern lately. Then his mood had plummeted again, and in the last month they’ve both been recalcitrant to leave the flat for anything but eating, and he was capable of noticing when he was hunting a little vindictively, and - anyway.

He downloaded the knowledge, and then made a face when it didn’t really help. One of those nasty little political things. What was with his fellow Avatars and politics? Just torture anyone who bothers you. If they were one of those freaks who liked being tortured, then just smite them. Life was easy and very simple once you remembered that basic rule.

But Annabelle was really into it - she kept on saying something about ‘order’ and ‘regulation’ and ‘first dibs’ - and she tended to drag him along into these things. She thought it was ‘important’ that Jon ‘know what was going on’ or something. Jon liked Knowing things, but once you know everything you realize that some things aren’t really interesting enough to know.

When he asked Daisy if she wanted to go with, she feigned sleep. She had been hyperactive lately, compensating for her months of starvation with unbridled and frantic Hunting. Jon had taken her to one of those little pockets where people were running around and screaming all the time, and let her run wild in the rainforest for a while. It was the kind of fun bonding experience they hadn’t had in ages, and Jon had the opportunity to pluck his own grapes from the vine too.

There had been an old man who really hadn’t been happy to see Jon, which had freaked him out a bit. He had started going on a little bit about how Jon had ruined his life, but he only got a few sentences in before a giant, carnivorous plant had eaten him. That was lucky.

Jon had ripped the dimension apart as he left. Nasty little place. Nothing good there.

So Jon left the house without Daisy for the first time since she had been well enough to move around, and with Annabelle. Daisy had been waiting at the door with a rucksack packed with his favorite book and his Nintendo DS, which made Annabelle ask her where the juicebox was. Daisy tried to bite her again. Jon didn’t know why everybody couldn’t just get along.

There was a cab waiting outside, driven by another skeleton, and Annabelle quickly bundled him into it. Jon slouched in the corner and started playing WarioWare as Annabelle leafed through typewritten documents, lips pursing and making notes on the margins of each one with a red pen. She was muttering to herself, somewhat entertainingly.

“My fourth arm for a computer, I swear to Jesus. My fourth and fifth arms. My sixth arm for a computer…”

“Are those the internet machines you told me about?” Jon asked, scribbling his stylus on the screen. Ashley cheered him on. He loved Ashley. “Do council committees need the internet?”

“The internet’s for a lot more than council committees Jon,” Annabelle said tightly. “They’re for video games. Ememoharepeegees -”

“Gesundheit.”

“ - bitcoin mining, instant messaging, online dating, freaking Google Docs -”

“Do you want it back?” Jon asked, bored. “I can make you the internet.”

Annabelle’s pen froze on the paper, hovering over a bullet-point list. “The entire internet? You can just do that?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Jon poked his tongue out his mouth in concentration as he pressed the monkeys in a rhythmic order. Rhythm games were his jam. “That’s, like, the pocket nightmare dimension from Tron, right? I can do that. Addictions are easy. Put people inside, trap them inside a video or something. It’d be mostly for torture but you could probably use it normally.”

Annabelle stared at him, expression blank, for so long it made Jon a little uncomfortable and defensive. What had he said wrong? Daisy was usually good at interpreting these things for him, although sometimes when people went on about ‘violence’ she was just as confused as him. Finally, she said, “No, that’s alright. I always hated Black Mirror anyway.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a telly - never mind. I don’t want you getting any more ideas.”

***

The council committee was held in the stupidest building Jon had ever seen in his entire life. And he had been in London for six months. He knew stupid buildings.

‘London City Hall’ or whatever was this awful giant, lopsided, obloid monstrosity. All glass and windows, with nary a brick in sight, Jon hated it instantly and severely. He was immediately filled with the urge to turn to somebody and commiserate with them about shitty architecture, but there was nobody else in the cab but Annabelle - and, well, she seemed to have other things on her mind.

The neighborhood around it was filled with a mix of equally stupid buildings and perfectly respectable buildings that looked as if they had been made a long time ago. The sidewalks were relatively abandoned, and the streets were empty of everything but the endless rotation of tourist double-decker busses. Jon knew that this wasn’t one of those districts where people actually lived and roamed - instead, it was one of those business districts that people only stepped inside for work or city business. Like that silly little Palace of Westminster building that Annabelle had taken him to months ago when she was showing him the city.

That building Annabelle had especially loved. It was filled with old white men with sagging jowls and liver spots, looping in endless routines and miniature atrocities. Annabelle had asked him to take as many Statements as possible, and Jon had needed no encouraging.

That had been a strange trip. Normally people found his little monologues boring, because they were idiots with no taste, but Annabelle had listened to every single one. She had been enraptured, excited and triumphant. She had dragged him into some “Lord’s Chamber” or something and posed on the throne as Jon obediently took polaroids. Well, so long as she was happy.

Jon was already seeing that London City Hall was no better. Annabelle dragged him through it, anxiously checking and re-checking her files, as they effortlessly weaved between shambling zombies of old white men in suits. Jon tasted the ripe air of trauma from them - a similar taste to that spiralling academic building, but rather a little more tart - but Annabelle dragged him away before he could stop and eat them.

There were parts of London that were safe. Maybe even most of London - although nowhere was truly safe, not really, not every location was absolutely haunted. The grocer’s was the grocer’s; the chemist still sold your medication. Not that you really needed it anymore, but habit was habit.

But some buildings, which were entrenched so firmly in hundreds of years of evil, could not be dissuaded from their nightmares. In that respect, the safest city in the United Kingdom became the most dangerous. Some buildings had been nightmares even before the end of the world.

Jon, of course, gave very little shits about this beyond in the academic sense. Annabelle refused to let him duck out of her meeting to go snack, and she ended up dragging him in front of what looked like a smallish conference room.

Annabelle stopped in front of it, taking a second to breathe in and out and check her makeup. She seemed to be hyping herself up for it, shaking out her arms loosely. Jon slouched behind her, hands jammed in his trenchcoat pockets. Annabelle had asked him to put on a less raggedy suit, but - well, he sometimes had nicer suits, but they got raggedy very quickly. She had also asked him to leave the trenchcoat at home, but no way. It was part of his Look.

“You’re frightened,” Jon noted with interest. Annabelle was scared of less than he was, and she had much less of a reason. “What about this room scares you?”

“It’s not the people in the room,” Annabelle snapped, flashing her compact shut. “It’s what I’m trying to do. If this world’s going to last more than a few years before it devolves into fuckin’ Mad Max we need leadership. I didn’t put all of this work in just to -” At Jon’s blank look, she sighed. “Never mind. You don’t care. Just - try to trust me, Jon.”

“Of course I trust you,” Jon said, baffled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She stared at him, expression inscrutable, for a long moment, before opening the door and pulling him in.

It was a nice conference room, all wood panelling and that specific green shade you only saw in lawyer’s offices. There was a large rectangular table in the center, and more than a dozen luxurious chairs arranged around it. There was a big pull-down screen on the far wall. Jon didn’t know what it was for, but he knew that if he downloaded the information it wouldn’t help. Omniscence was so useless.

In a move that horrified Annabelle, most of the attendees seemed to be there. They had been chatting - talking, actually, quite loudly - before Annabelle strode in and Jon slumped in after her. But in the second that they both stepped in, an abrupt hush swept the room, and every eye swiveled to them.

If Jon was honest with himself, he’d say that they didn’t quiet when Annabelle stepped in. He’d say that they quieted when Jon stepped in. That it was Jon who they were looking at.

But Jon didn’t particularly feel like engaging with that. He didn’t like being stared at by people he didn’t know, and he didn’t like being out in public with people he didn’t know. He didn’t enjoy being in buildings or meeting new people, much less going to boring meetings. Jon decided all of this instantaneously, as every eye swiveled to him.

Rooms full of humans were fine. It was just humans. Nothing even vaguely intimidating about that, unless the humans were teenage girls. But these were Avatars - Jon could taste their nature in the air, a sharp and electric tingle - and when they stared at Jon he felt something heavier in their gaze. Oh, lord. There was a teenage girl here.

Jon tried slumping to the back chair, but Annabelle grabbed his collar and dumped him in a comfortable chair to her right. Jon saw a little placard in front of it that read ‘THE BEHOLDING’. Great.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Annabelle said crisply, and suddenly every worry was gone. She was calm, poised, confident, and professional. A perfect imitation of the officials and politicians who once really walked these halls, who passed laws and rubber-stamped policies. She could have passed for an assistant or junior staff member, bright and intrepid and ready to climb her way up the ladder. “Are we all accounted for?”

It seemed so. Every chair but one was filled. When Jon peered around at the placards, he saw that each one had a different Entity on it. One of the seats had no placard, and was occupied by said teenage girl. Four were unoccupied: the Spiral, the Slaughter, the Hunt and the Extinction.

Annabelle sat down in the head chair, which seemed just a little fancier. She put her folder in front of her, eyes flickering down the room. “It seems that Helen couldn’t make it. The Hunt duo seem to have...recently met unfortunate ends. The Slaughter Avatar called ahead to say that they couldn’t make it - it was high school picture day? And...I suppose the Extinction Avatar still doesn’t exist.”

She glanced at Jon, who shook his head. “Do you want one?” Jon asked. “I can go find a climate change denier in this building and make one for you.”

That also disturbed Annabelle, as well as everyone else. Jon abruptly felt awkward, and hunched in his seat. He defensively pulled out his DS, his plans to fall asleep in the back of the room already foiled.

Above him, Annabelle continued droning. “Still, I appreciate you all coming. I know that we haven’t all gathered since a bit after the apocalypse began -” Wait, they had? Since when? “ - but I hope we can agree that further coordination is necessary. We’ve already begun having serious territory and jurisdiction disputes, and it’s best that they’re resolved sooner rather than later.” Nobody looked very impressed, but Annabelle looked seriously at them all anyway. “I want us all to have an equal voice at this table. Save the fighting for another time. And please try to keep your powers out of here. I’ve already sworn to avoid using any of my Mother’s gifts in this room, and I hope you all can do the same.”

“Yeah?” A woman drawled. She was unfamiliar to Jon, like most people in the room, but she had a teenage girl sitting next to her who seemed to be paying rapt attention to Annabelle. “How are you going to enforce that?”

Annabelle stared at him for some reason. Jon jabbed at his DS and won the Mona minigame. Nothing more was said.

“Alright, then. I’ve already collected motions from all of you prior to this meeting.” Motions? Annabelle hadn’t said anything like that. Maybe it was on the invitation Daisy ate, but somehow he doubted it. Annabelle looked down and traced her finger down to her first point. “Many of you suggested this, so I would like to introduce it as a general discussion. Territory disputes, apparently, are a point of contention between many of us.” She opened her briefcase and pulled out a large map, and if Jon looked over the top of his DS he could see that it was a map of London. She also pulled out a red marker, uncapping it. The sheet was laminated, and there were already circles and markings all over it. “We’ll go one at a time. Amherst, you’ve motioned that the Stranger is intruding within Camden.”

A foppish looking man on a dumb little top hat scowled, as the young woman sitting behind the Strange placard looked annoyed. “It is gentrification. Every apartment complex occupied by artist studios are stealing food from the plate of my insects.”

“You haven’t had Camden for a decade,” the Stranger woman said, rolling her eyes. The Omniscience informed Jon that her name was Sarah Baldwin. Vaguely familiar - had he seen her at a cafe? “Nobody lives in those rat-infested tenements anymore. Now all the rats are performance art. Which is us. Get over it.”

“What is performance art -”

“Motion for no more Avatars over the age of 40,” Sarah Baldwin said. “I hate how Amherst and Wakely are in this room.”

“I wish I could second that,” Annabelle said, to the great affront of two grimy old men, “but unfortunately we do have to deal with this. Amherst, I’ve heard several complaints from other council members that you’re infiltrating their territory.”

“I am made of bugs -”

Jon checked out after that.

Instead, he surveyed the room a bit. Nobody in it was really interesting, just a meaningless collection of self-important people. The only person in the room other than Annabelle who he recognized was Oliver, who was sitting at the very back doing his best to fall asleep. When Jon Stared at him a bit he took notice and subtly waved. Jon shyly waved back. Jon liked Oliver.

Oliver mouthed something adjacent to ‘what is wrong with your hair’, offending Jon grievously. He didn’t look that bad, did he?

He glanced to his left, then down, to ask Daisy’s opinion, but he realized too late that she hadn’t come with him. Stupid. She could have come as part of the Hunt - they didn’t have anybody, it wasn’t as if they could complain. Not to Jon, anyway.

But she wouldn’t have wanted to. Daisy hated being an Avatar, for reasons that Jon had just never understood. She tried explaining it to him a long time ago, trying to talk about how guilty it made her and how much harm she had done, but it had just confused him more. She had tried to explain up until the end, as Jon had grown more and more angry at her for her refusal. He had never understood.

She had stopped talking about it lately, though. Which was good. Jon didn’t know what he’d do if she starved herself twice. He wouldn’t have tolerated it.

Daisy had told him that the most important thing in the world was to make your own choices. So he let her make hers. No matter how much he hated it.

The others weren’t familiar at all. There was a woman with wild dark hair sitting behind the Dark placard, which confused Jon slightly until he decided that they likely hadn’t wanted to send the thirteen year old. There was this really wrinkly and gross old man for the Vast, a younger looking but older feeling man for the Buried, a deathly pale woman for the Lonely, the muscular woman and the teenager for the Desolation...why did they have two…

The teenager was staring at Jon. She had intense orange eyes, the kind that bored into you and never blinked. She looked away every few seconds, as if she was being subtle, but when her gaze drifted back to him again he met her eyes with an unimpressed stare. She squeaked and looked away firmly, hiding behind her curtain of long red hair.

Okay. Whatever. Kids were weird. Jon was glad he had never been one.

Jon swapped out WarioWare for Pokemon SoulSilver, opening back up where he left off catching another MissingNo. His entire team was full of the things. He wanted a Mareep, damn it.

Finally, Annabelle rapped the table sharply and said, “It’s agreed, then. Everybody submit specific written documentation of your territory by city block, and fax it to me by our next meeting. Please abide by the resolutions to the conflicts we discussed here. Any objections to moving onto our next order of business?”

“I have an objection to the Dark’s questionable behavior,” the Buried guy rumbled. He was dripping dirt everywhere. Why didn’t anybody complain to him about his hygiene? “In the words of the lad Brody, they are kill stealing. If they do not withdraw their nightmares from our embrace of the Earth, we will unleash retribution with extreme prejudice. The dirt is a holy place, and we will not be polluted by -”

“Oh, stick your shovel up your fat ass, Wakely,” the woman with wild black hair said. “People aren’t afraid of the fucking dirt, they’re afraid of the darkness in the tombs. Walk into a mausoleum sometime.”

“You poach the End’s territory now too, wench?”

“Please leave me out of this,” Oliver said.

“If you call me wench one more time, you’ll be watching the back of your eye sockets for eternity,” the woman said pleasantly, “so royally fuck you.”

“Um, not to interrupt, but that’s not really how it works,” the teenager said, and the death glares between the two turned on her. She hunched her shoulders, but her expression stayed firm. “The terror is going to overlap. That’s just how it is. The Buried and the Dark are not entirely...separate things, they’re gradients that overlap. If you get all finicky about what belongs to who, then you’re just going in circles…”

“The last thing we need is the coward Messiah of the Eternal Flame telling me how to worship my god,” the woman snapped.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Manuela,” the muscular woman said flatly.

Then they were glaring, and Wakely was saying something else snide, and Manuela was making another dig at the teenager as the muscular woman bitched, and Jon abruptly wanted them all to shut up.

“You’re being too loud,” Jon said.

The entire room shut up immediately. The teenager opened her mouth, but the pale woman caught her eye and shook her head.

Annabelle clapped her hands in the silence. “Onto the second motion, then! Infrastructure! Right now we are sorely missing a great deal of essential city infrastructure, and it’s becoming a huge problem. We’re still figuring out what’s mystically maintained, and what’s just being maintained because the humans haven’t figured out how to stop doing it yet, but there’s some work that’s being neglected. The Vast has motioned to reinstate the postal system.”

“Vetoed,” the Lonely woman said.

“You can’t do that,” Annabelle said blankly. “We need to vote.”

“I’d like to make an argument for the motion, dear,” the Vast man said, making Annabelle’s eye twitch. “My argument is this: Amazon Prime is so convenient!”

“We have every Amazon warehouse under our control,” the representative from the Flesh said. He was...very fleshy. “It’d be no issue to go back to production.”

“Jared has a point. The Eye’s been feeding through Amazon for years,” Annabelle said thoughtfully. The mention of the Eye piqued Jon’s attention, but then he finally ran into a Mareep and he stopped paying attention again. “We can tap into the people who are living 1984 and get them back in industry.”

“Can we begin producing again?” the Desolation woman asked, interested. “We have all these people miserable at work, but nothing’s actually being made. If we let a little reality break into the nightmares…”

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?” the Lonely woman asked sharply. “It’ll make it easier for them to escape.”

“They all escape eventually,” Sarah Baldwin said. “They all break out in days to months. We can afford a little more permeability if we actually get things working again.”

Then conversation was off and running about something that Jon didn’t really care about, so he checked out again. He didn’t know what all of this production and infrastructure stuff meant. Going Postal meant that he had a very good understanding of a mail system, but he didn’t have a personal interest. Who he would send letters to?

Jon quickly downloaded what Amazon was. Oh, that would be useful. Wait, he could get any book delivered to his door? Without having to go out hunting for it? How would this work without the internet - a catalogue?

Everybody seemed invested in getting the internet back up, except for the two hundred year olds. Jared kept saying something about porn, whatever that was. If enough people felt like Annabelle, then maybe they would make it a priority. Jon didn’t know how he felt about that.

He didn’t know how he felt about the fact that it was impossible.

But everybody - or most people - genuinely seemed excited about it. They even seemed to be working together, intent on the same goal.

Sarah Baldwin wanted to know if we have enough people constantly under camera to have footage for television. Maybe we could get cable back up? DVDs were a lost cause, but if we could just start airing the VHS tapes…

Annabelle had a look of hook-ups (literally) in the film industry, maybe they could do something like that?

The Hahns are highly involved in production and distribution, Jared pointed out. There was no need to produce food, but if we wanted to increase access to goods it might be possible.

Why? Why did they care? This world provided them everything they needed.

For some reason, Jon felt a little defensive. What did they need all of these things for, anyway? All of this entertainment - cable and movies and internet. The world had books. What was so wrong with books? There were even old VHS tapes liberated from charity stores if you really wanted to get fancy. The most high-tech electronic Jon had ever found was the DS in his hands and a couple of games, which Salasea had given to him as an exotic artifact. Only Salasea owned these things now: trinkets and curiosities, hallmarks of an antiquated time.

What was the point of these supply lines? People didn’t need to eat or shop or consume. Nightmares provided the facsimile, and since they got a little crazy if they never ate they were provided the security of food. Buying towels and shoes and toys...it was a waste of time. People had towels. Nobody outgrew their shoes or wore them out. Children’s toys didn’t break, and anything that made happiness a little easier to come by was discouraged.

Nothing was ever subtracted. Nothing was added. The world was frozen, captured in the amber of time, and it would never move backwards and forwards.

They knew this. Didn’t they?

“We have to make this place livable for us,” Annabelle was saying. She spoke oddly intensely, with a fervor that Jon had seen in her a few times before. Annabelle didn’t like to give off the impression that she cared about things, but once you knew her it was hard to miss. “It’s easier than ever to stay powerful and feed our Forces, but that doesn’t mean we can grow complacent. We have to work together to eat sustainably. To live sustainably. If we don’t try to rebuild, at least enough to get the world moving again, then we’re sentencing ourselves to a boring and decrepit eternity in a world we will all see die within our immortal lifetimes.”

Everyone at the table was nodding. They looked determined. United. Almost...they held an expression that Jon just couldn’t name. An emotion he didn’t understand.

He had seen it in Daisy, once. She had called it hope. He hadn’t understood back then. He still didn’t.

“Liar,” Jon said, as his minigame timed out and the game over music tinkled across the tinny speakers.

Annabelle looked at him, expression inscrutable. “These problems are legitimate, Archivist. The writing’s clearly on the wall, and -”

“You’re all so stupid,” Jon complained, and Annabelle abruptly stopped talking to glare at him. Whatever. Jon had lost all patience. He closed his DS and dropped it on the table, resigning himself to talking. Jon hated public speaking, especially in front of so many people he didn’t know and, frankly, creeped him out. “You can’t build anything in this world. If you try to impose a cute little government then it’ll break down into cannibalism or something.”

“Would you know, Archivist?” Jared asked evenly.

“Jonah didn’t enact this world through myself for living,” Jon said, bored, and everybody stared at him with wide eyes. “We created it for suffering. Suffering isn’t living.”

“One might say the opposite,” the Vast man said, somehow twinkingly. “Suffering is an unavoidable side effect of living, isn’t it?”

“Is that philosophy? I don’t understand philosophy.” Jon wasn’t very good with anything that required extensive and complex thought. Which made sense - Jonah hadn’t exactly created him to think. “Humanity has clouded your minds. Makes all of you irrational and sentimental. Release your attachment to the old world. Just accept the way things are now.” Jon shrugged. “It’s not as if you can do anything about it.”

“Nobody in this room is exactly human, Jon,” Oliver pointed out placidly.

Jon snorted. “Wanting free porn back? You’re all dripping with it.” It was honestly a little sad. “The only ones in this world free of that weakness are Jonah and I. And he’s the only one who could do any of this.”

“Then where is he?” the Desolation woman snapped. She leaned forward, hands gripping the table in anger. The teenager watched her anxiously. “Why doesn’t he come on down from his high tower and explain what’s going on? We’re in the fucking dark here!”

“I’m sorry,” Jon said coldly, “who are you?”

He rubbed his bad hand. For some reason, everybody watched him do so. He stopped, self-conscious.

“Prejudiced remarks aside,” Manuela said. She had been hostile all day, but she now spoke cautiously. “Jonah Magnus needs to take responsibility for this. We don’t even know how the world ended.”

Several people glanced at Annabelle, whose lips thinned. “I shouldn’t say.”

Of course she knew. And of course she wasn’t about to tell him. Whatever. Jon didn’t care. Past was the past.

He found his hand clenching. There was a strange tension in his throat. He didn’t care. He didn’t. Rehashing the worst pain he had ever felt in his life, even now, wasn’t really worth the time or energy. He didn’t care.

“No use crying over spilled milk,” the Vast guy said lightly. “But it is a relevant question. Jonah frequently spoke of his plans, and I realize now that he had never truly shown all of his cards. But he had always held an intention to...well, rule. It’s only in this moment of his victory that he shows no interest.”

“Jonah’s busy,” Jon snapped. “Trust me, you don’t want that arse around. He never even gives me directions, and I’m his right hand.”

“Or his puppet,” Sarah Baldwin muttered.

It was fair. Probably even true. So why did an intense and burning fury shoot through Jon?

“What gives this child the right to dictate us?” Wakely demanded. Jon’s hands clenched on the table until his knuckles turned white. “What gives Jonah Magnus the right to rule us?”

“He’s not much of a ruler,” Amherst grunted. “My vote’s that we rule this world in a council.”

“Administration is important,” Annabelle said, impossibly terse, “but unless anyone here actually has the means to seize control, then there’s no use voting on it.”

“There’s only one Avatar here who has those means,” Manuela said darkly, crossing her arms and looking straight at Jon. “So why doesn’t he do anything?”

They were feeding on each other. They wouldn’t have said these - these treasonous things by themselves. But when one person spoke up, the next felt empowered, and they felt as if they outnumbered him. Jonah Magnus was hardly there to press him into obedience - why buckle under his oppressive gaze? What could he do?

The stupidest people in this world all gathered in one room. It took a special level of arrogance, pride, and stupidity to assume that one was more powerful than Jonah Magnus.

“I’m not in charge of anything,” Jon said tersely. “I don’t even have a domain. I’m just trying to live my life.”

The Desolation woman snorted. “Typical. You’re rolling over for Jonah.”

Jon’s eyes widened - not in surprise, but in anger.

The teenager seemed a little uncomfortable. “Jude,” she hissed, “I don’t think -”

“Jude,” Jon breathed. “So that’s your name.”

He was standing up. Jon didn’t remember standing up. Everybody was leaning away, their own eyes wide. Some just looked confused, slightly perturbed - Wakely, Amherst. Others looked ready to bolt - Manuela, the old man from the Vast. Jon knew, in a flash of insight that grew hotter and hotter, that he preferred to be called Simon.

“Sit down, Jon,” Annabelle said, as authoritative and no-nonsense as ever. Normally he’d listen to her, respecting that she usually knew what was going on far better than he ever did. But the words barely reached him, drowned out by the rushing in his ears. “Look, we can talk about this rationally, alright?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jude said. She snorted, burning red eyes never leaving Jon’s. “As if I’m scared of this baby prick.”

“Maybe we can move on from Jonah Magnus,” Simon said quickly. “A discussion of airspace rights, perhaps -”

“Jon,” Oliver said, voice creased in worry, “are you okay?”

“This is the all-powerful demigod you all warned me about?” Amherst said. He was dripping with condescension, just like - just like everyone else - “He’s little more than a child.”

“Guys!” the teenager’s voice rang through the room, close to scared. “The walls are melting!”

So they were. It was as if the stone and wood was made of wax, sent guttering by a sputtering candle. Wood and finish were already pooling on the floor, melting the rolling wheel of Jared’s chair and forcing him to jump up from it.

“Jon!” Annabelle said sharply. “Don’t throw a tantr -”

The table cracked sharply. It was warping, twisting in on itself as if it was a wrung towel. Jon realized, too late to care, that his hair was rising. He knew his eyes were spinning, an eternal churning wheel.

“Fuck this, meeting adjourned.” Manuela stood up sharply, pushing her chair back into a melting bubble. The floor was beginning to bubble and warp. “See you all next month.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Simon said quickly, standing up too.

“You have two minutes,” Jon said, voice heavy with static. “Don’t bother me about this shit again.”

The signal was clear enough. Jude rose from her chair, grabbing her teenager’s elbow and pushing her out the door. The others followed in their wake, expressions carefully neutral. It was useless: Jon could taste their fear, their trepidation. Even better: their anger, barely brindled fury, and disgust.

They couldn’t do anything about it, Jon thought giddily. No matter how much they hated or were scared of him, they couldn’t do anything about it. Jon was powerful. Jon couldn’t be hurt. Jon couldn’t -

Jon couldn’t reign this in.

Before he knew it, the conference room was empty. Only two other people remained: Annabelle, expression as inscrutable as ever, and an uncomfortable Oliver. His hands were stuck in the pockets of his pea coat, and he was looking around with disaffected interest - as if he was standing in line at a Starbucks in rush hour instead of in the epicenter of a melting building.

Jon knew. The entire building was dissolving. It was teeming with humans, lost and trapped and defenseless. He didn’t want to kill them. Jon didn’t like hurting people. He heard a voice speak in his head, foreign and familiar. Bring it in, Jon.

But he couldn’t. His hair would fall back around his shoulders, and the static rushing through his ears just wouldn’t abate. It felt like everything was pouring out of him, a relentless faucet that wouldn’t stop churning out thick streams of putrid water.

Jon fisted his hands in his hair, groaning. “Where’s -”

“She’s at your flat,” Annabelle said calmly. “Do you want me to get her?”

No. No, this was too embarrassing. He was an adult, he could handle this. Jon groaned again and sank into his seat, saved from the toxic waste of glass and brick. “No. Focus on getting the humans out of here.”

“What do you care?” Oliver asked, vaguely curious. “You don’t seem that fond of humanity.”

“Just do it!” Jon snapped, instead of admitting that he didn’t know either.

Eventually, the room stopped melting. Jon didn’t even want to think about how difficult it would be to leave the building. He could probably straighten out the hallways just enough to help Annabelle and Oliver get out.

Ugh. This place had sunk straight into Helen’s domain. He could taste it in the air: any future human who wandered in would be stuck in an endless spiral of twisted, melted hallways. Probably flavored with...powerlessness and fear. Feeling very small, as someone very large loomed down on you. Tories.

At least he hadn’t sucked flattened the building into one plane again, robbing it of all spiritual and metaphysical dimensions. Jon had done that to a graveyard once. The place was putrid now. He had accidentally fallen into a grave and panicked and - anyway.

He rested his forehead on the warped and splintered conference table, waiting for his throat to open back up and the rushing in his ears to die down. Finally, after what felt like forever, his hair floated back down and he felt his eyes resume their normal shape.

Awkward silence loomed. Jon sighed. “Sorry.”

“I worked hard to arrange this, you know,” Annabelle said.

“Yeah.”

“I am not happy with you, Jon,” Annabelle said.

“Sorry,” Jon said miserably. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I mean,” Oliver said, after a beat, “that’s kind of terrifying. That you can melt a building on accident. Like, what would happen if you got really pissed at Manchester or something?”

“Goodbye, Manchester,” Annabelle muttered.

Jon lifted his head, glaring blearily at Oliver. “If you think that’s crazy, you should have been there the one time I opened up an extradimensional gate and unleashed nightmare terrors into the world, rendering all of humanity immortal and eternally trapped in endless infernal hellscapes.”

Oliver shrugged, conceding the point.

But Annabelle just looked thoughtful. Probably reworking five billion plans, knowing her. Jon didn’t want to know, because he didn’t care. Let her do whatever she wanted. None of his business. Hopefully, after this disaster, she’d keep it out of his business.

Finally, she asked, “Was that true? That there’s no moving us forward?”

Jon sighed. He really didn’t want to talk about this anymore. But if he didn’t tell her then she’d just bug him about it later, or find some way to get the information out of him that would be both convoluted and unpleasant. “I’m not saying that people can’t...live their lives. They’re obviously still going to work and typing in every digit of pi into their spreadsheets for eight hours and then going home to stare, hypnotized, into cable television. But I am saying that there’s no achieving more than that. There’s no going backwards, and there’s no going forwards. The past is closed to us, and so is the future.” He eyed her warily. “If you have any cute time travel ideas, forget it.”

“I would never,” Annabelle said innocently.

Yeah, sure. Liar. Jon scowled. “You’re all hampered by your humanity.” When Oliver opened his mouth, Jon just shook his head. “Even Avatars are still people. We’re all conduits for eldritch Forces, hollowed out to serve as a live wire for their power, but we - you all remember a human life. You care about things. You have relationships. You love. It makes you weak. Some of you don’t even like your lot in life - some part of you aching for something familiar, when you felt genuine happiness instead of the cheap facsimile induced by causing pain.” Jon looked down at his hands, reflexively picking at one of his many scars. “You should be more like me. You’d be more focused.”

“Are you capable of...changing, Jon?” Oliver asked curiously. “Or will you be this way forever?”

“Most of Annabelle’s plans hinge on that not happening,” Jon said, not even aware it was true until he said it, “so I suppose we’ll find out.”

Of course, Jon knew what Oliver had tactfully not said. He had wanted to know if Jon would ever grow up. They all thought he was a child, even Annabelle. Jon had the feeling even Daisy did, sometimes.

It was stupid and they were wrong. Child would imply adult, would imply birthday parties and learning to talk and learning geography. Jon didn’t have to learn geography. He knew geography. He didn’t age. He was born being able to talk. Jon was above all of these things. He was mature. And even if he wasn’t, who cared?

But Annabelle just smiled at Jon, a polite mask. Annabelle hadn’t made a genuine facial expression in - well, longer than Jon’s memory. Or maybe that was the wrong way to put it. Maybe it was more accurate that she never expressed an emotion that she didn’t mean to. “Well! That wasn’t entirely a disaster, was it? I think next time could go really well. Don’t worry, Jon, I won’t drag you out of bed again.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Now, the three of us are going back to your flat and doing something about your awful rat’s nest.”

Oh, lord. This was going to be terrible. “Do we have to?” Jon whined.

Annabelle smiled again, but this time it was so dangerous that Jon couldn’t help but quail. “My spiders are collecting the avocado oil and coconut oil now. My best friend in secondary had 3C hair too, I think I know what to do. Oliver, bring the buzzer, scissors, and satin wraps.”

“Three cee?” Jon asked, confused. “What’s that?”

Oliver grimaced. “Why am I involved in this?”

“Because I don’t know what to do with a guy’s hair, and you’re probably the only guy I’ve ever met who knows what to do with hair? Keep up.”

“I’m feeling pigeonholed, but fine. But we are not buzzing that hair. It’s a crime against god.” Oliver looked thoughtful for a second. “I think Jon would do a nice, loose afro. I think I still have some hair masks and vinegar rinse -”

“Why is this so complicated?” Jon asked, completely freaked out. “What are these things?”

But Annabelle just smiled sweetly at him, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jon. I’ll teach you what you need to know.”

Well. It seemed easier than figuring things out for himself. Jon didn’t like responsibility. Today was his first taste of responsibility in ages, and he had already decided that it sucked. Better to let somebody who actually cared take care of it.

That way, he didn’t have to be powerful. Didn’t have to be anybody’s demigod on Earth, capable of murdering whoever he liked. He could just be Jon, Private Detective, Archivist. He could have fun. Just live. Didn’t he deserve that, despite everything?

He stood up too, summoning a shaky smile for Annabelle. “So you aren’t mad about me ruining your meeting, then?”

“Water under the bridge,” Annabelle said. “Now come on, we have to stop by the chemist’s and pick up a decent hairbrush.”

Hairbrush? What was that for?

****

Six months after time resumed its course

Jon opened his mailbox, only to find mail.

Suspicion immediately loomed. Jon didn’t get mail. Not due to any kind of impossibility, but just because he didn’t pay bills and none of the mimic junk mail was brave enough to try their luck with him. Maybe invoices, sometimes, but mostly those were dropped off in person. The invoices were scarier than the finger-biting mimics: he still didn’t quite know how they worked. Sasha kept insisting they were important, but Sasha also insisted face masks were important. She didn’t know everything. That was Jon’s job.

He grabbed the singular envelope anyway, elbowing his door back open as he inspected the envelope. Thick, rich, and creamy, it reminded Jon uncomfortably of Annabelle’s party invite from a while ago. In the front, he saw that it was addressed to...Agnes?

The living room was noisy and busy, entirely due to the recipient of the letter and her brother. They were playing Mario Kart on the Wii, and apparently disowning each other. Jon watched Agnes hit Gerry with a blue shell, slightly bemused, and saw Dry Bones spin out into the center and make a pitiful noise. Baby Peach loomed supreme.

Jon almost felt bad interrupting. An opened bag of chips scattered dust around Gerry, and Agnes had a half-empty pack of uncooked hot dogs next to her. They had both been at this for a while. “Agnes, you got a letter. And try to keep it down, Sasha’s working and Daisy’s sleeping.”

Agnes turned around, half a hot dog hanging out of her mouth like a cigar. She swallowed it quickly, holding out one hand and letting Jon give her the letter. She frowned down at the front, ignoring the way Gerry craned his head to take a look, and when she checked the back she frowned deeper. There was a wax seal, its details out of sight to Jon.

“Is it that time already?” Agnes muttered, putting her controller down and letting the parade lap on the screen continue.

Gerry frowned too as Agnes carefully broke the seal. “Is that from…?”

“Yeah. Weird, though. Guess it’s about time for the follow-up to the emergency meeting.” She pulled a letter out of the envelope, embossed on creamy paper. She scanned it quickly. “Downing street this time…”

“Are you going to go?”

“Well, it’s not as if Jude can,” Agnes said diplomatically, refolding the paper.

Jon cleared his throat, making the kids jump. They had half-forgotten he was there. Far too late, Agnes hid the invite behind her back. “Care to explain?”

“Oh, you know,” Agnes said vaguely, casually tossing the invite behind her shoulder and letting Gerry snatch it out of midair. “It’s the invite to the Avatar council meetings. I think they’re held once every three months, but since months are a theoretical concept it’s occasionally hard to tell..”

“Not these days,” Gerry said excitedly. “It’s cold! The leaves fell!”

“The leaf thing is dope,” Agnes agreed. “Anyway, I should go. I have, like, serious words. I already submitted ten motions. I want to run for Treasurer, but Jared keeps saying that anybody who isn’t old enough to open her own bank account shouldn’t be treasurer.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Jon asked blankly. Was this some kind of youth league? Baseball? Was this baseball?

Abruptly, Agnes looked very sketchy. “I...it’s really nothing you’d be interested in.”

“I am interested in everything,” Jon said. He was offended beyond all belief. “Don’t keep secrets!”

“Jon’s not a big fan of secrets,” Gerry stage-whispered. “Did Annabelle say that we shouldn’t tell him or did she just say not to bother him about it?”

Agnes abruptly started sweating wax. “I can’t remember.”

“Now you have to tell me,” Jon said flatly.

They gave up very quickly. Teenagers loved hiding things, but they also loved drama and spilling secrets. “It’s the Avatar council meeting thing,” Gerry said eagerly. “You know, where you guys all get together and re-enact the British empire by making government decisions and imposing made-up laws on the people you’ve conquered and are currently subjugating under your big stompy boots?”

“I’m changing the system from the inside,” Agnes said proudly.

Gerry shot her an unimpressed look. “Okay. Yeah. Sure. Because that’s a thing that makes sense in an inherently corrupt system with an inherently unethical existence that exists to be profitable at the expense of the marginalized.”

“I don’t understand anything children these days even talk about,” Jon said.

“I’m surprised you don’t remember it,” Agnes said to Jon. But she had a strange expression on her face, one hard to decipher. “It’s where we met.”

Jon stared at her blankly. “I don’t remember talking to you.”

“I was sitting next to Jude?” Agnes hinted. “Teenager? Red hair?”

Wait. Jon snapped his fingers. “Annabelle’s idiot thing! Right! Right, of course, Oliver made me sit still for five hours afterwards, it was insufferable.”

Wait. Jon abruptly remembered the rest of that day. It seemed like so long ago, even though it was probably objectively only about three years. It must have been about...yes, a few months after Daisy had gotten stuck...

He barely remembered those tepid and awful months. He had been on a bit of a hair trigger back then. It had been really tough, with Daisy leaving and his terrifying encounter with Jonah. He remembered everybody had been annoying and mean and made him feel bad…

“First time I ever remember feeling fear, honestly,” Agnes said to Gerry. “Scariest moment of my life. Remember when we first met Jon? All I could think about was that he was going to melt us like he melted that building.”

Hot shame flared in Jon’s gut. Right. Other people were real, and existed, and were probably more important than his...what had he even been upset about? He didn’t remember.

He melted a building and he didn’t even remember why.

“I’m going too,” Jon said, and both kids startled. “I’m coming with you.”

Agnes and Gerry stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Uh,” Agnes said finally, hesitant, “there’s about a 50/50 chance Annabelle said not to tell you about this, and you definitely didn’t get an invite, so statistically you probably aren’t -”

“She can’t exactly stop me from coming,” Jon said, and both kids quieted.

Power-tripping had lost all appeal for Jon - assuming role as a conduit for global and absolute power did that to you - but he couldn’t deny it was useful sometimes. The world probably could have stood a little more power-tripping from him, actually. At least, it would have been helpful if he had ever done anything helpful with it. But he had never really bothered.

But Agnes still looked perturbed, almost worried. “Annabelle’s like one of two people you used to ever listen to, so if you don’t really care what she thinks anymore -”

“I think Annnabelle knows better than to complain these days,” Jon said.

It probably was for the best that Jon didn’t listen much to Annabelle anymore.

****

Jon hadn’t really told the others about Annabelle’s worse-than-murder attempt.

It didn’t really seem like any of their business, and he had spinned a vague explanation of how the situation happened. He didn’t lie, just - withheld information.

For the first time, the truth didn’t seem so important. He had the feeling it would have just upset them. It wasn’t as if he would take revenge against Annabelle. The world needed her, and Jon was a little tired of murdering everyone who upset him. The others (Daisy) would insist on the little murder attempts if they knew, but that was probably part of why he didn’t tell them. If they never knew about the one unselfish thing he had done in his life - well, one unselfish thing didn’t make up for three years of selfishness, so there was very little point.

Martin suspected. Actually, Martin seemed to know, which terrified Jon slightly. It was impossible to get anything past Martin. Jon was deeply intimidated by the man. Sasha laughed very long and hard when he told her that, for unknown reasons.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he felt betrayed. Even if the last time he had attended one of Annabelle’s little council meetings he still trusted her, that had faded quickly in favor of complete apathy. Even then, as young as he was, he had never expected the truth from her. Just friendship. Whatever she was doing, it probably wouldn’t affect him, so there was no use in worrying. Even if Annabelle slightly terrorized every other person in the United Kingdom - well, Jon was fine, so what did it matter.

Jon couldn’t decide if he was stupid or naive. Or, even worse - if he was just lazy.

Jon didn’t listen to Annabelle anymore.

Unfortunately, he still listened to Sasha James.

Two weeks later, the date of the actual meeting, Jon was stuck explaining himself to his entire house, who doubted all of his decisions. Which was just unfair. Jon made good decisions! He had made tons of good decisions, like -

Anyway!

“I think it’s a great idea,” Sasha said, freaking out Jon. “Displaying interest in your local government’s fantastic! Did you do any research on the relevant issues?”

Jon, in the middle of pulling on his trenchcoat, started sweating. “I was just planning on showing up.”

Agnes, who was wearing a gauzy skirt and blouse as Daisy helped a whining Gerry with his court buttons, gave Sasha the thumbs up. “I’m going to propose motions and Jon’s going to say ‘yeah what she said’ and it’ll be great.”

Jon let Agnes believe that.

“Well, you’ll have to share Jon’s political weight,” Sasha said cheerfully. She was in sweatpants and one of Jon’s pilfered t-shirts again. She had recently designated herself a writer, and had joined some sort of recent artist and activist collective where they did mysterious things that Jon didn’t understand. There’s a zine involved? Jon didn’t know what a zine was and he was scared to ask.

Georgie and Melanie had spent a week teaching Jon in laborious detail what exactly the internet was - information Jon could have just downloaded, but they had been intent in their mission of creating ‘the perfect internet’ and had gone through great effort in teaching him what the ‘good’ internet was (Ravelry, Spotify, r/HobbyDrama, YouTubers but only a very specific list) and what the ‘bad’ internet was (social media, the rest of Reddit, every other YouTuber). Jon wasn’t sure if the new internet was to their specifications, and he hadn’t quite been able to avoid parts of it spiralling into nightmare dimensions and hellish breeding grounds for violence and trauma, but Melanie assured him that Twitter had always been like that.

Jon also secretly added a nightmare filter to Melanie’s screen reader, after he made sure every inch of it was accessible, after he roughly recreated screen readers. Melanie said that the voice sounded uncannily like the aunt she had hated, but that it was no big deal.

Anyway, Sasha was a blogger now. After a few meltdowns to Sasha’s computer he had to install a nightmare filter for her too, which made her complain about feeling like an old woman whose grandson had to install AdBlock on her browser. Jon was a little scared of the whole blogging thing, but everybody seemed much happier, so maybe that was the important thing.

“Wait,” Jon said, finally recognizing what Sasha said. “Share with who?”

There was a knock on the door. Jon felt intense fear.

“She’s here!” Sasha said cheerfully. “Come in!”

Jon watched in horror as Basira Hussain casually strode into her house. He knew he couldn’t stop her. She had a key to the place, because Jon had no control of his life.

“Hey honey,” Basira said, intimately.

“Hey honey,” Daisy said lovingly, releasing Gerry from her clutches.

They stared at each other, as if this was any kind of greeting whatsoever, before ignoring each other. Jon did not understand so many things.

Basira, terrifyingly, was dressed like she was about to go defend her client in court. She had a briefcase, and Jon recognized her most important looking crimson hijab. Very abruptly, Jon had a flashback to the way Annabelle had dressed when she had picked him up in his old office. They even had the same expression: determined and resolute, in a way that Jon could never understand.

Basira nodded at Jon. “Hey. Sasha invited me to this thing. She told you I was coming, right.”

“She did not.”

“Whatever. Are we going to get going? We’re going to be late.”

Jon looked at Sasha pleadingly. Cold and resolute stone, Sasha showed no mercy. She smiled brightly, giving Agnes a final hug and pushing her forward. “You kids have a great time! Terrorize the bourgeoisie!”

“I am the bourgeoisie,” Jon said blankly, but the situation had already spiraled out of his control. Agnes and Basira were already comparing lists of notes, seriously discussing the motions Agnes had raised and how she was going to help Basira.

That was it – how Agnes could help Basira. How Agnes, and the role she had in the council hall, could help Basira and the people Jon knew that she intended on representing today.

They hadn’t even looped him in. Had they assumed that he wouldn’t care? That he wouldn’t help? Agnes hadn’t even wanted him there. Only Sasha -

He felt a cool, small hand grab his arm, and he turned around to see Daisy. Gerry was already enthusiastically capturing Sasha about the concert he and Agnes were going to later, and Jon knew that they weren’t listening. Daisy’s expression was somber, her body tense. Daisy wasn’t one for facial expressions at the best of times – not even a new development – but something about this…

“I should go with you,” Daisy said.

“I already told you no,” Jon said, miffed. “I can handle this by myself.”

“I shouldn’t have let you go by yourself last time,” Daisy said. Jon could admit that things probably wouldn’t have spiraled out of control if she had been there, but that didn’t mean – “Don’t terrify yourself just because you feel guilty.”

Daisy hadn’t aged any more than the rest of the world had. As an Avatar, she likely never would. She even looked young for her mid-forties, with her short stature and broad, unlined face. Sasha had assured him that she was ‘Kristen Bell-ish’, whatever that meant. But she always seemed so old to him: larger than life and not even reaching his shoulders. Wise and world-weary even when, as Jon was beginning to see, she didn’t know what she was doing any more than the rest of them did.

It scared Jon, almost: if Daisy wasn’t the person who could swoop in and make it all better, then who could?

If Jonah wasn’t the omnipresent god, then who was the most powerful person in the world?

Jon shook her off, fighting the pull in his gut. “I’m not scared of them anymore.”

She didn’t look impressed. “You’re always scared.”

“Look at the time, going to be late, gotta go!”

He still couldn’t win an argument against her.

They took a taxi there, as Jon had cheerfully informed them that the Tube was delayed due to infernal leaves on the line (Work-from-home was the hot new thing these days). Basira was clearly on edge, tense and constantly keeping an eye on the taxi driver (a friendly skeleton) and the street. Agnes wasn’t any more relaxed, reading her notes over and over.

Jon leaned back in his plush seat, closing his eyes. What would Martin say? He would probably be cuttingly pointing out how Jon was in denial over how he really was secretly afraid of the Avatars and now it was even more dangerous because he was much more willing to power-trip.

Forget about what Jon wanted. Forget about his fear, his insecurities, and every rationale he had constructed for himself as to why Jon deserved a life free of these worries.

Jon was above politics. The Avatar with no need to defend their territory, who held no fear of death or failure, had no need. Jon could not lose the affection of his patron. His domain was the world, and it could not be attacked no matter how hard he tried. Jon was not a politician, so of course that meant he could not be manipulated by politicians -

“What’s your plan,” Jon asked, without opening his eyes.

They told him. Basira was clinical; Agnes excited. Jon didn’t say anything about it, and let the conversation die down until the taxi was rolling in front of 10 Downing Street. Didn’t the prime minister live here? Boris...something? Jon quickly downloaded the information, before he found that Boris Johnson had been the world’s most convoluted psy-op by Annabelle and had never exactly existed. Thank goodness.

Right as the taxi idled in front of the building, Jon opened his eyes. He let them flare up, an intimidating spark of toxic green. “You two follow my lead.”

“Excuse me,” Basira said flatly, as Jon waved at the driver in lieu of payment. He hadn’t found out that you were supposed to pay taxi drivers until...a few months ago. In his defense, they never asked. “This is our operation.”

Jon glanced at her, and something relaxed around the corners of her eyes. He wondered if his expression was familiar to her. He couldn’t help but smile weakly, and that softened her expression even more. “Will you trust me?”

Basira stared at him for one long beat, then two, before grimacing. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Do I usually make you regret it?”

“Literally, every single time,” Basira said.

“Then it’s a pretty stupid decision to trust me again,” Jon pointed out. “You don’t seem the type to make stupid decisions.”

Basira stared at him for a long moment, before leaving the car.

Jon and Agnes silently watched her leave, before glancing at each other.

“And I thought you ran from your feelings,” Agnes said finally, before following her.

Jon, left with nothing else to do, followed Agnes.

10 Downing Street, Jon quickly found, was just like every other pretentious old British home. With lots of grandiose rooms with furniture shoved into corners so everybody could appreciate the gold-plated tile, or sitting rooms with the most uncomfortable places to sit Jon had ever seen. Each wall hosted gigantic portraits of famous British figures, who were all so ugly that Agnes incinerated one for fun. Jon respected her choices: he had been wearing a stupid wig.

Jon, unfortunately instinctively aware of the layout and history of this sordid place, led them through the halls. He opened his mouth, instinctively about to funnel a Statement regarding the decades of human suffering and imperialism, before forcing his mouth closed. Basira wouldn’t appreciate it. Besides, the Statements had been easier to ignore lately - like curious dogs nosing at his hands rather than insistent children demanding to be fed.

Instead, he settled on casually updating them on the choice of location. “A year ago, this location wouldn’t have been safe for Basira at all. This building was a nightmare pit of despair.” He led them up the ridiculous flights of stairs watching carefully as Agnes jumped up them. Trick steps, you know. Basira proceeded far more cautiously. “It’s...no less a nightmare pit, but like the rest of London it’s now safe to navigate. I’d keep clear of the residential rooms, however. The Prime Minister and his family haven’t escaped their nightmares since the apocalypse, and they never will.”

Basira’s eyebrows skyrocketed up. “David Cameron’s stuck in hell? No surprise there. What’s he having a nightmare about?”

“Well, there’s this pig, right, and you’ll never guess what he’s doing -”

“Never mind,” Basira said quickly. “Not interested.”

“I’m interested,” Agnes said.

“I’d rather you weren’t.”

Jon, who also wished he didn’t know this information, quickly directed them towards the conference room.

But he found himself stopping in front of the intricately carved oak double doors. The wrought golden handles were grimy and dull with dust, but Agnes and Basira did not hesitate to open the door and walk in. They didn’t hesitate; they weren’t frightened. Or, if they were, they didn’t let it stop them.

But Jon stopped. He felt like Annabelle, in that moment. Annabelle, standing in front of that conference room door so long ago, unable to admit that she felt any fear at all.

She had been desperate. Jon saw that now. Only a desperate person would have ever concocted that plan against Jon. He was the sole person capable of murder in this world, and the sole person who was so vindictive and petty that he would kill anybody who said something that he didn’t like.

Annabelle was arrogant. She thought herself the most intelligent person in every room. She was petty, manipulative, and power-hungry. She thought that the world was so broken that somebody had to fix it, and that she was the only one who could. She was desperate.

Jon didn’t particularly want to do this. But Jon really, really had to grow up.

Jon opened the door.

It was a far cry from the nice, professional conference room in City Hall. The floor was some ugly light brown hardwood color, and the walls were tudor-like and panelled. Old man ribboned curtains, an intricate rug woven from human rights abuses, and a claw-foot long conference table with an array of chairs made up an incredibly ‘antique’ room. The British found ‘antique’ and ‘wealth signalling’ to be the same thing. It made for some very ugly buildings and very uncomfortable chairs.

Nobody else had entered yet. Jon checked the time with his extradimensional psychic powers and realized that Sasha had hustled them out the door fifteen minutes earlier than necessary. She was so intelligent.

Agnes was already moving to her uncomfortable seat, and Jon tapped Basira on the arm and silently pointed to the seat with the ‘EXTINCTION’ placard. She raised an eyebrow at him, but followed his direction. Maybe that was what her trust looked like.

There was a placard stamped ‘BEHOLDING’ in big letters. Gone unoccupied since the last time Jon had been here.

He ignored it, and sat down at the head of the table. Likely where Annabelle usually sat, as director of the meetings. Historically, where the leader of Britain had once sat and directed the affairs of the country.

Jon kicked up his heels on the polished antique wood, pulling up an episode of The Twilight Zone in his brain. He identified with Rod Serling.

The other Avatars filtered in, one by one. All of their eyes widened when they saw Jon, but none of them said anything. Jon wondered what had filtered through the Avatar grapevine. They always knew all of the gossip on each other. It was impossible to miss the Earth’s paradigm shift, and Agnes mentioned that they had convened an emergency meeting on it. Doubtlessly, his name had come up. They likely knew he was the instigator. Who else could?

Annabelle was the fourth in, as fashionably on time as usual. She was the only one who stopped in her tracks when she saw Jon. A surprise, to a woman unused to surprises. Jon’s house didn’t have insect problems.

Her eyes widened. Her jaw clenched. That was all it took. And Jon Knew, in the way that he Knew things, that she was wondering if this was when he finally killed her.

She didn’t know why she was still alive. It was stressing her out. It was a move that made no sense - an unforeseen reaction. Jon was predictable. When Jon wasn’t predictable, and when Jon’s actions weren’t being very precisely controlled, then she was left with a vindictive and irreverent steam train on her hands. She hadn’t predicted his presence here.

Jon was also sitting in her chair. Scuffing the wood. Leaning back in the chair, and definitely scuffing the floor too.

He pointed to the chair at his right, with a placard that now read ‘WEB’. Annabelle sat down in it. Everybody noticed.

Everybody also noticed Basira. She was receiving some glares, or some pointedly unwelcome expressions. But Basira’s glares and unwelcome expressions were more powerful than any demon could ever offer, and one by one each Avatar looked away in shame.

Only Oliver actually talked to him. Which made sense, as Oliver feared neither life nor death. When he walked in he was just as surprised to see Jon as everyone else, but he offered Jon a smile too. Jon smiled back, which made several of the other Avatars lean back.

“Hey, Archivist. I thought you hated these things.”

“I do!” Jon said cheerfully. “I wasn’t even invited.”

Annabelle busied herself with her notes and agenda.

As usual, Helen didn’t show up. Jon waited patiently for everybody to filter in. Sarah Baldwin didn’t show up either, and Jon searched for the information before realizing that he really didn’t want to know. He saw some other new faces, as well as some faintly familiar ones. It wasn’t that strange: no position of absolute power was forever. Where was that bloke Wakely?

Wait. He was the Avatar who had talked for too long about burying people alive at a party in a ridiculous skyscraper. He had upset Daisy. Jon had seen red and lost his temper. Jon had...tossed him over the side of the roof. Let him keep falling. Left him to waste away. He was probably gone now.

The entire room had been at that party. Whoops.

Now uncomfortably reminded that Jon had murdered two people at this table, that everybody was aware of that, and that Jon had completely forgotten about one of the semi-accidental murders because, in Sasha’s words, he was “a bit of a psychopath, what the hell”.

This distressed her, because apparently Jonathan Sims had always been a “sensitive boy” with a “tender heart”. Daisy had said that he was still a sensitive boy, just prone to power-tripping. Sasha said that this was also very consistent behavior. Martin said -

Martin said that Jonathan Sims had been a good person. And, more importantly, that Jonathan Sims had wanted to be a good person. That was one thing that Jon didn’t want to change.

Who just buried people alive -

Jon waited until everyone was settled down. Nobody was chatting or talking to each other: just sitting silently, avoiding eye contact.

He could see Annabelle preparing herself to say something. Better get this ball rolling, then.

“Jonah Magnus is dead.”

The silence suddenly became oppressive.

Jon didn’t stop to savor the looks on their faces. That wasn’t the point. Enjoying this wasn’t the point. Jon had all the power he wanted and - and he didn’t want it at all. He hoped that nobody here would make him have to prove it.

Jon did not want to melt anyone. He wasn’t going to melt anyone. Life had started feeling a little valuable lately. These people, the soulless demons surrounding him, weren’t any different than he was. Humans with delusions of grandeur. Infighting and power plays weren’t going to fix it.

But Annabelle had been right, as she always was. Jon couldn’t keep ignoring this. If he could do something, he had to. Even if it was something he didn’t like doing.

Or something he hated that he enjoyed doing.

“Jonah Magnus is dead,” Jon repeated pleasantly. “The world has changed. These two events are related, of course.”

He didn’t elaborate. Jon didn’t lie, but he didn’t have to say everything.

“The chains which bind this Earth have loosened,” Jon continued. He folded his hands over his stomach, relaxed and casual. “We now exist in the third age of life. I ask that you do not resist.

“The seasons have begun to change, our eternal placid summer ripening into fall and sinking into winter. Our world turns yet again. Babies are born, grow old, and die. The apocalypse as we’ve always known was rooted in its stagnancy. Life and growth has bloomed, and will continue to subsist. Change is once again thriving, and we must adapt with it.

“You’ve noticed that your power has weakened. You will have to fight harder than ever to maintain your food supplies. What was once a conquest is now a battleground. The playing field is far from even, but the enemy and harvest now have a fighting chance.” Jon smiled brightly. “Of course, I’m sure that this was all discussed during your emergency meeting. Great job with your repeated warfare attempts against humanity during the last six months, by the way. How’s that working out for us?”

Silence loomed. Of course, their repeated attempts to quash the new human uprising had not gone very well. At the end of the day, for every one Avatar there were thousands of humans.

“You are no longer strong enough to allow these divides into factions,” Jon continued. “We must present a united front if we’re going to maintain the ground we have. We can’t continue on the way we have. And I’ve realized…” Jon glanced at Annabelle, catching her eye. “I’ve realized that I haven’t been helping the situation. There’s more I can do. That’s why Annabelle has handed over moderation of these meetings to me.”

Nobody looked impressed.

He could see it: the way Jon had become an unpredictable, dangerous nuisance towards them. Almost everyone in this room would be much happier if Jon dropped dead. Nobody had really liked him because nobody had ever felt safe around him. Only Annabelle and Oliver - the person who had nothing to fear from him and the other person who did not feel fear - called themselves his friends.

But they would have preferred it if Jon was hostile or dangerous. If he had even admitted his power. But Jon play-acted at harmlessness, unwilling and afraid to make enemies, and in that way he became a nuisance rather than an enemy. He couldn’t even pretend that it wasn’t on purpose. No matter how many Avatars brushed him off or ignored him, it was better than feeling their eyes on him. Or feeling the fear rich on their tongues.

“Also I invited a human to work with us on human affairs,” Jon said cheerfully. “Diversity hire! Any questions?”

There were a lot of questions. Basira didn’t look very pleased at his remark, either.

Simon leaned forward first, pale and watery eyes intent for the first time. “What happened to Jonah Magnus?”

“Natural causes,” Jon said cheerfully. “Next?”

“What does this mean for us?” the Lukas matriarch said. Her eyes skittered away from him. “Are we in danger?”

Jon shrugged. “Only if you’re incompetent at feeding.”

“What caused this?” Manuela demanded. “The children are running wild, we can’t control them. We’ve lost a major food source.”

Jon scratched his temples. “What caused it...sustainability efforts.” He sobered abruptly. “You could never control the children, anyway. This is the generation of the apocalypse. You’ll find that very little frightens them now.”

“Does this have to do with those humans you’ve been running around with?” Jared asked, scratching his chin as Manuela’s expression contorted in rage.

As usual, a frighteningly insightful observation from such a brute. “It is actually directly their fault!”

Everybody turned to look at Basira, who was completely unapologetic. She crossed her arms. “Don’t ask me. First I’m hearing about this too.”

“Did you kill Jonah Magnus?” Oliver asked, morbidly fascinated. “How?”

“We humans didn’t kill him. We showed up at the Panopticon to kill him, only to find Jon there and Jonah Magnus already dead.” Basira scowled as Jon and Annabelle glanced at each other. Jon subtly shook his head. Annabelle’s lips thinned. “It looked like he’d been dead for years.”

An unfamiliar young man with a thick mop of clumped black hair peered at Jon, expression contorted in grotesque interest. He was one of the Avatars who had been born in the Apocalypse, who were all recognizably weird. His name was - right, Geoff Anjou. Some French man who had made his mark in the Parisian Underground before moving to London and conquering his next terrain. A Parisian to the bone - or, a great deal of bones, as the case may be. So many bones. Jon had always meant to take Daisy to that wonderful little nightmare and let her run loose. Chase people through the tunnels. Munch bones. Perfect vacation.

“So did the Archivist kill him?” Geoff asked, in the same way you would ask who won the World Cup. “Steal his Watcher’s Crown or whatever?”

“Are you the new queen bee?” a young woman asked Jon. The new Slaughter Avatar, Henrietta Something-or-another. A Cambridge legacy college student, Annabelle had intoned, and Jon had been afraid to inquire further. She was cyberbullying someone on her mobile, which seemed to be bleeding. “Cuz, like, you don’t seem qualified.”

“I did not kill Jonah Magnus,” Jon said, for the five hundreth time in the last six months. “And I’m uninterested in filling his shoes. That’s enough questions, I think.”

“Are you as weakened as the rest of us?” Amherst demanded. “Surely this destruction has affected you worst of all.”

“He probably ate Jonah Magnus,” Henrietta said. “The Archivist’s probably god now.”

Geoff snorted. “No way. He brought a human as back-up.”

“Why is there a human?” Another woman asked, with long brown hair and a broad face. Something about her was unquestionably severe, from her bulging muscles to her incredible height. Jon had never seen her before in his life. Her name was Julia Montauk. Something about her stank of life and undeath, same as Amherst. “We can’t exactly work with the prey, here.”

“I’m proposing an emergency motion,” Amherst said suddenly, shutting up the rapidly overlapping voices. “I vote that a leader is elected democratically. And that representatives are limited towards loyal patrons of the Forces.”

“I second that motion,” Geoff said immediately. “We can’t afford a chaotic uprising in our government right now -”

“This really isn’t a vote,” Jon said.

“Isn’t this a democracy?” Henrietta asked, with the self-righteous assurance of a twenty year old. “We vote on things in a democracy. And leaders.”

“Annabelle was voted in last spring,” Julia agreed. “No reason to change things.”

Well. Basira said that she trusted him. He’d have to rely on that.

Jon pressed down.

It felt just like that: pressing down. Reaching out a hand and squashing. Sometimes it was like ripping someone into shreds, and other times it was like plunging your hand into their chest and ripping out their heart. But this was just a press: a heavy static, bearing down over your shoulders like a ten ton weight. A sight so horrible that it was too eldritch to even look at. The realization that the hideous sight was you, and that it was all you would ever be.

Some - Geoff, Amherst - gasped, as if they were choking. Others - Lukas, Henrietta - gasped at their hearts, as if they were having heart attacks. Jon carefully kept it off Oliver, Annabelle, Basira, and Agnes. He couldn’t help but remember what she had said a few weeks ago, about being so frightened -

But Basira winced anyway, clutching her temples, and Jon carefully released the static until the inhabitants of the room could breathe again. His eyes did not stop glowing, and Jon didn’t bother to turn off the light show.

Jon put his feet down on the floor and rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward. As everyone shuddered and gasped, he spoke slowly and pointedly. “This is not a democracy. It never was. It is a monarchy, and the line of succession is clear.”

Annabelle’s eyes widened, and she abruptly clenched her fists before loosening them. An uncharacteristic show of emotion from her.

“This coalition has never been a democracy,” Jon said severely. “This is a house of lords. You are uninterested in representing any needs but your own, and I know Jared failed level eight government, but I’m sure all of you know that democracy represents elected officials. Nobody here has ever lived in a true democracy, and in your human fallibility you have recreated the only system you have ever known. The seats at this table are determined by power - all of you, the most powerful conduits for your Entity. I am the inevitable consequence of this system. I am your natural disaster. All of you bought me. Now you have me. And you are no longer powerful enough to make me leave.”

Agnes’ hand was covering her mouth. Jon dearly hoped Basira was holding onto that trust. He dearly hoped that he wasn’t speaking from anger.

But he couldn’t stop. It boiled and bubbled. It was an anger and a powerlessness that had subjugated him for thirty two years of his life. It had served as the cloud hanging over his head for three more.

“If you want someone to blame for the Archivist who now moderates this meeting,” Jon said, his voice the thin lid over this boiling pot of hurt and anger, “I now know their names. Jonah Magnus. Jude Perry. Nikola Orsinov. Twice. Breekon and Hope’s coffin. Peter Lukas. Jane Prentiss. Maxwell Raynor. A strategic book.” Jon tilted his head, having effectively made his point. There were others, but he had forgiven Daisy and Melanie a long time ago. And Jared had been polite about it. “Bring up your complaints with them. Good luck with that.”

Jon clapped his hands, closing the lid on those memories. Maybe one day the pain would leech from them like a sun-bleached painting, but that day hadn’t come yet. “Now! If you have any further complaints about my position here, or if you want to continue debating political theory, feel free to stand up and tell me so. We’re all interested in you regurgitating your life story until you die. Anyone?” Crickets. Jon leaned back in his chair, making himself comfortable. “Can we go onto the motions now? Ms. Hussain first, then clockwise from her.”

As if they had planned this, with the air of a well-choreographed actress, Basira stood up and spread out her papers in front of her. “The human contingency requests neutral zones in essential areas. Maternal wards in hospitals are highly vulnerable locations, and when assaulted by parasites the mortality rate of children is very high. If you want a self-replenishing food source, you have to allocate space for safe living. The next essential zone is a daycare and a school for children -”

And she was off. Jon had nothing to say, nor was anything necessary. Raging debate sparked after she finished speaking, and Basira effectively crushed the opposition. Agnes spoke up in her defense, and to Jon’s surprise even Manuela contributed a solid understanding of the necessity of children. When the debate started spiraling in an unhelpful direction Jon cut in and shut it down, before forcing the vote.

It did not pass, obviously.

“By the way,” Jon said. “Ms. Hussain proposed five different motions today. At least two of them have to pass. This debate is about picking which two you want.”

Then that started up all over again, and Jon tried not to fall asleep.

Moderating was hard. He actually had to pay attention and focus, and he hated focusing. He was effective enough at shutting down conversations, but sometimes shutting down conversations wasn’t helpful - he just needed to steer them in a more productive conversation. And Agnes’ political theory and Basira’s almost-definitely-made-up statistics started flying so thick and fast above his head that Jon was starting to almost completely lose the plot.

Jon chose his moment as the Lukas woman was complaining extensively about how Henrietta’s digital bullying was intruding upon the Loneliness of her adherents. Henrietta had argued that social media made people more lonely. Jon was afraid that Henrietta was his fault. Maybe the Eye’s fault, holistically. Jared wanted to be friends with Henrietta and co-host Instagram events, which Jon enthusiastically supported despite Basira’s glares.

He leaned over to his right, gesturing slightly at Annabelle so she would lean in closer. She raised an eyebrow at him. Annabelle’s eyebrows were crushing.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Jon whispered to her, as quietly as possible.

Annabelle mouthed very clearly at him, ‘Wow, really? Shock!’.

“I was making a point,” Jon hissed. “An important point. But I don’t - I still -” Jon faltered, uncertain, as Henrietta began sneering something about Lukas’ hairdo. Finally, he weakly said, “You care. They need you.”

Annabelle stared at him for a long, silent moment, before turning away from him.

For the first time that day, she spoke to the room. “Let’s keep ad hominem attacks out of this,” she said sharply. “Madame Lukas, if you’ll make your closing remarks we can bring this to a vote.”

She really was good at it. Just like she had always wanted. She had never directly admitted it, but Annabelle had always wanted to be the kind of person in rooms like this.

A politician sitting in an uncomfortable chair at 10 Downing Street. Rich, successful, important. Powerful and respected. Back then, she had wanted to be famous. Now, she was content to be controlling famous people. A dream out of her reach in life; laughably attainable in this stagnant after-afterlife.

The dream had crippled her. In her search for a functional world, one that achieved and grew and provided a comfortable world, she had ended up recreating a world that hadn’t been functional at all. A world that was slow to change, and seemingly impossible to improve. A world passed down from the hands of the greedy and bloodthirsty into the hands of the uncaring and apathetic.

The apocalypse had been inevitable. Humans driving themselves to extinction. And Avatars, possessed of human weakness, had been eager to do the same. Just a pathetic room of sour and bitter people power-tripping.

For all that Sasha calls us bougie, Jon thought, we’re such deeply unhappy people.

There had once been a young man, desperate for attention and acknowledgement. Dreaming of importance. He would stay up late at night, planning out his life as a famous researcher and well-respected philosopher. Everyone would tell him how smart he was. He would prove it all - with a scholarship to Oxford, with a sneer and a haughty air, with a boss who said that he had so much promise, here’s a job that will let you realize your potential.

I deserve this job -

Something in Jon’s mind flared, a hot poker rammed behind his eye sockets. Jon hissed, one hand reaching unconsciously to his temple, and Annabelle glanced at him in alarm. She had - Jon had been thinking about her, and - what had he been -

Together, they managed to wrangle the meeting into something half-way productive. Most importantly, Basira had gotten three of her proposals passed, and Agnes’ arguments were stirring the other Avatars into serious discussion. Conversation itself would be stilted by his sheer presence, and they weren’t quite all working together yet, but they would.

It was really all the same to Jon if the Avatars or humans won the war. He should care a bit more than he did, so he didn’t vocalize this to the others. But this conflict sparked life, a strange and frantic energy. Experiences and growth. That was what Jon had always fed on.

It seemed that Jon’s skill at prioritizing himself over all others was as sharp as ever.

Eventually the two hours wrapped up, and the other Avatars were eager to leave. Jon waved them off cheerily.

“Meeting adjourned. Try not to do anything stupid until next time. And if any of you break the boundaries of the human safe zones, I’ll know! Annabelle, will you stay behind?”

The others filtered out quickly, uncharacteristically unwilling to see whatever carnage would be wrought. Agnes and Basira lingered.

“That went so well!” Agnes shouted, the minute the last Avatar left. The room was now empty save for Agnes, Basira, Annabelle, and - Oliver, who was leaning against the doorframe. “I can’t believe you actually did something useful!”

“Ouch,” Oliver said.

It was fair, though. Jon smiled weakly at her. “Hopefully I can help out a little more often going forward. But I’m not going to give any favoritism to you, Agnes. I’ll intervene to give humans a fair shot, but I really don’t want to be...king of a ruined world or whatever.”

“I know,” Agnes said firmly. She reached out and squeezed his arm, round and gentle face creased in determination. “You’d be terrible at it. So just be you, okay?”

Jon saluted her, before gesturing to the door. “Will you steal a historical British artifact from this garbage building for me? Daisy needs more targets to shoot.”

Agnes nodded eagerly and ran off. Jon silently hoped Basira would follow her, if also out of interest for also seeing British things destroyed, but she just looked at Jon intensely instead. Not quite a glare - just a searching, intense look, as if she was finding her own Statement from deep within him. It had always been disconcerting. Jon was still convinced she hated him.

“It’s not as if I knew you very well before we rescued you from the Panopticon,” Basira said crisply, pressing a folder to her chest, “but you’ve changed. What happened? What did Annabelle have to do with it?”

Jon and Annabelle glanced at each other. Oliver lifted an eyebrow.

“Basira -”

“Don’t ask me to trust you.”

“I didn’t betray that,” Jon asked, “did I?”

Her expression didn’t soften. “You didn’t. We’re going to continue needing your help. But an ally with inscrutable motivations who does everything on a whim is a bad ally to have.”

“I’m trying, Basira,” Jon said, impossibly exhausted and just a little disappointed. “Please be patient.”

“I’ve been patient for three years,” Basira said, before forcibly cutting herself short from whatever emotion she was about to display. “What happened?”

A phantom pain pieced Jon’s arms, like chains threaded through bone. Jon fought the urge to wince, unconsciously reaching up to rub at a spot on his forearm. Everyone noticed. “It’s...family business…”

“Did you kill Jonah Magnus?”

“Jonah Magnus killed me,” Jon snapped, far louder than he intended, ��so he would have deserved it, wouldn’t he!”

He felt a little lightheaded, more than he intended. It felt like a hand was clenching inside his chest, more than he wanted. No, Basira is fragile, you can’t just - no, Agnes is a kid, Daisy said that we can’t -

“Basira Hussain,” Annabelle said, hands folded tightly in her lap, eyes serious and intent. Jon started, surprised to hear her speak again. “You should go catch up with Agnes.”

Basira stared at Annabelle for a long moment, lips thin, before she abruptly whirled on her heel and stalked out. Jon watched her go, exhausted. He waited for her heels to click down the hall, far away enough that he knew she wasn’t eavesdropping, before groaning and dropping his head down onto his desk.

“They hate me.”

“They’re scared of you,” Annabelle pointed out. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Frankly, Basira could stand to be a little more afraid of you. She’s going to get herself in trouble one of these days.”

“She’s practically my sister in law, I’m not going to hurt her,” Jon snapped. “Your stupid plan relied on me never hurting people I love.”

“Sorry,” Oliver said pleasantly, “is anyone ever going to tell me what’s going on? I feel like an NPC in Jon’s Dungeons & Dragons game.”

“You want to be an NPC, I found you working at Taco Bell.” God, whatever. Jon could tell Oliver. He wouldn’t give a shit. Jon sighed, lifting his head to twist around and look at Oliver instead. “You remember when I was asking around after Sasha James? Annabelle had put me up to it.”

“Obviously. And then Sasha James started following you around? You terrorized Annabelle’s party again?”

“Yeah, it was this whole big thing.” Jon waved a hand expressively. “Anyway, then Annabelle tried to trap me in an eternal limbo that would shred me from inside out so I could act as purveyor of the world, and probably also use her connection with me so she could take over affairs here, and probably either nudge me into shaping the world back into order or into sinking it deeper into hell. I broke out and now I’m mad at her.”

“I had at least twenty other reasons,” Annabelle said, “but that’s the gist.”

Oliver stared at them.

They all sat in awkward silence. Jon found himself winding a finger around a stray coil of hair and letting it spring back into place. He had kept it the same the last three years, never bothering to change the style. A loose and bouncy cloud of hair, sometimes brushing against his shoulders until Annabelle kidnapped him to cut it again - him, as much as the trenchcoat was. So much as anything had ever been ‘him’.

“Well,” Oliver said diplomatically, “I see that you skipped a lot of steps there. So why are you here, then?”

Was it just to spite Annabelle? Screw her out of her work? Did Jon genuinely care? Did he want to organize the other Avatars, get them mobilized and going? Did he want to protect the humans?

Did he really only care about himself, and the people he called his friends and family? Did he really only care about himself, and those he possessed?

“There’s a person I want to be,” Jon said quietly, “but I don’t know how to be him.”

Annabelle stared at him, with dark and glittering eyes, expression as implacable as always. For a sudden, stupid, intense moment, Jon wanted to know if she cared about him. If one of the few people who had always helped him, who was always in his corner, had seen him as anything more than a tool.

Like Basira, who didn’t like him as a person, but found him too valuable to alienate. But Basira was - she was deeply good, if not always kind, and Jon had the sense that she had fought to turn herself into that good person. It was something she chose. She was trying to push Jon into making that same choice.

Jon clenched his hands in his lap, his fingernails digging into his palm. “There’s people I respect, and who I want to respect me. This person I want to be...I’m worried that I only want this because that’s what they want. They’ll deny it, but they want my power. Everybody just makes me into whoever they want. Whatever’s useful to them.” Jon’s gaze snapped to Annabelle, and he fought hard to keep the compulsion from his voice. It was difficult, when he wanted to know so badly, but - “The kind of person I used to be. That person I’m ashamed of. Is that the person who was useful to you?”

He didn’t want to force the answer from her. He wanted her to choose to say it.

Annabelle didn’t react. She didn’t show anything on her face. Much less what Jon wanted from her. She just tilted her head, one of the few unafraid to meet his eyes. “I never made you be anyone, Jon. All I ever did was put you in the right place at the right time.”

“That wasn’t my question,” Jon said, and this time he couldn’t help the static creeping into his voice. “Answer me.”

Annabelle sighed. “Of course it was useful. Is that what you wanted me to voluntarily say, Jon? I didn’t bring you to the first meeting because I thought it would be educational for you. I needed your power to keep the others in line. I needed everyone else to see that I controlled your power. That’s the only reason why any of this worked. We both got something out of it. Don’t pretend that you weren’t happy with the arrangement.”

It...it wasn’t a surprise, but…

“So that’s why you didn’t bring him to any of the other meetings,” Oliver mused. “He wasn’t as controllable as you liked, not when there’s more than ten other idiots around needling him. There’s never been anybody who can always predict when Jon’s going to lose his shit. Besides the biggie, I guess.”

The biggie, which was his past.

No wonder he had stayed so childlike, innocent, and cruel for so long. Jon took responsibility for his own laziness, but - but he had been most useful that way. Annabelle had liked him best that way.

Daisy had liked him best that way too. That cruel child - Daisy had wanted him, because he made her feel needed. Annabelle was just the same.

Everyone had liked him best that way. And if Jon became the kind of person who he wanted to be, nobody would like him at all.

“If you’re going to kill me,” Annabelle said, exhaustion seeping in through her voice, “just do it.”

Jon closed his eyes. He could feel it - Annabelle’s exhaustion, the way that she had just been waiting for him to do this. Everything she knew about Jon led towards an obvious course of action. Even though you nobody knew everything that set Jon off, certain things were pretty guaranteed that he wouldn’t forgive.

Annabelle had never accounted for Sasha. She had brought Sasha into his life, and she had no idea the effect she would have on it. Sasha, who had been the first to tell Jon that she chose to care about him for him. For a brief, hot flash, Jon was jealous. He wanted to be someone unpredictably kind.

If he only wanted that because he had found yet another person to give his wind-up key, then…

“You won, Annabelle,” Jon said finally, and he only knew it as he said it. “Congratulations. You played the perfect manipulation. You took a vulnerable, afraid man, who had been violated in the worst possible way and left to die.” He stood up, already uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “And you arranged him so that he loved you. I chose to love you. I’m making the choice never to hurt you, because I still love you. ”

He left the room. Oliver stood aside just in time, letting Jon brush by.

As Jon met up with Agnes and Basira, summoning a smile and a wave for them, he felt uncomfortably as if he had grown up.

He wasn’t sure that he liked it.

#tma #the magnus archives #my writing #tma fanfic #jonathan sims #annabelle cane #oliver banks #basira hussain #agnes montague #and a ton more #tcf was about deciding to change #and this story kind of hits at how difficult it is deciding who to change into #and how difficult it is to trust your own decisions when you've been manipulated since the second you were 'born'#jon and his choices and agency is becoming a big thing for me!

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mischiefandspirits · 3 years ago

Text

Are You Sure About That?

((Warning for blood and blood drinking))

The seedy streets of Gotham were filled with whispers about the demons and monsters that roamed the city, and outsiders and Gotham’s lawful scoffed at how superstitious the criminals could be.

Gordon had worked alongside Batman enough to be quite sure there were no demons in Gotham. Sure, the vigilante was a little standoffish, but it was Gotham. Likewise, the Robins and Batgirls were all good kids. Maybe the first Robin’s smiles were a little eerie, but that was likely just the contrast with his mentor. Maybe the second and third liked morbid humor, but that was just how kids were these days. Maybe the fourth Robin was a bit temperamental and harsh, but he was young. Maybe the Batgirls’ movements were a little uncanny, but that was probably just the training. Maybe Nightwing seemed a little too cheerful about the stuff they dealt with, but the kid had been doing this since he was young. He could have a worse coping mechanism. Red Hood was the only one he’d really consider monstrous, but the guy was a former crime lord turned anti-hero and he had been getting better since the Bat had taken him under his wing.

The members of the Justice League rolled their eyes whenever someone brought up the rumors. Batman was grim, overly serious, and secretive, but he was a good man who only wanted the best and always had plan after plan to help the league succeed.

The Titans thought the rumors were hilarious. Sunshine Boy Nightwing? A demon? Who could believe the guy who was always flipping around and laughing at his own bad puns was some dark monster?

The Outlaws didn’t believe it, but they understood why someone might make the mistake of thinking Red Hood was a monster. The guy was vicious and maybe a little messed up in the head, but then again so were they.

Young Justice scoffed at the rumors. Corvid was incredibly intelligent and an incredible fighter, but he was also an absolute mess who couldn’t remember to sleep, eat, or drink on his own.

The Teen Titans stared dumbly when they heard the rumors. Sure, Robin was rude, brutal, and a bit entitled, but calling him a demon was a little much, especially considering the team had a cambion member.

The Birds of Prey ignored the rumors. Oracle was a godsend, even when she had to give up the cowl because of an unknown accident. And Batgirl was a brash spitfire, but she was always willing to lend a hand. Likewise, Huntress mostly stuck to herself, but she could be kind and personable when the time came.

The public, well, as time went on they saw more and more of Batman and his companions working with their teams on the news. It was quite clear to everyone that the group was nothing more than baseline humans with incredible training who were out to make the world a better place.

Yet the rumors persisted.

Because in the shadows of Gotham, where only the darkest of souls and their victims could see you, there was no reason to hide.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightwing licked the blood off his talons as he listened to Batgirl’s story, idly kicking the unconscious gangster at his feet every so often.

“Why didn’t you just kill him, Fatgirl?” Robin huffed from Nightwing’s side and the imp ruffled the tiefling’s hair, carefully avoiding his horns.

“Killing shouldn’t be your go-to option, hdiiga,” he chirped.

“Don’t do that! You’re getting saliva and common blood in my hair!” Robin snarled, slapping away his hand.

Nightwing smirked and leaned down to lick a speck of blood off his youngest brother’s cheek, pulling back quickly when Robin screeched and tried to punch him.

“I’d say it’s an improvement,” Red Hood teased as he finished tying up the gangster he’d had taken down.

“Mind your place or I will put you back in your grave!”

Wiping some blood off his mouth, Hood smiled at Robin. “Go right ahead. I could use the nap.”

“If you’re counting on me to resurrect you, I’ll remind you that the last time I did that, you tried to banish me,” Red Robin said, not looking up from the laptop he was hacking into as his shadows soaked up the blood on him.

Nightwing and Batgirl groaned as the zombie and demon settled into a familiar argument.

“Well maybe if you’d brought me back properly as you did for your blonds, then I wouldn’t have tried to banish you.”

“That was different! I was less experienced when I brought you back!”

“I should have been easier to bring back! I was already a zombie!”

“EXACTLY! You came with a bunch of extra complications!”

“Are you two ever going to let this go?” Batgirl asked, eyes on the gangster she had knocked out. His face was twitching with distress as she twirled her fingers across his forehead, occasionally pulling them away to see the small moment of peace he got before she began brushing them across his forehead again. The revenant looked up at Robin and winked. “And killing’s boring, Human-Bird. Everything ends way too fast.”

Robin clicked his tongue. “I will never understand why we should waste our time torturing someone who has nothing worth telling? If we’re not going to kill them then why bother attacking them at all?”

“Because it’s fun?” Nightwing and Batgirl said together.

“There’s always something you can get out of someone, even if it’s just sustenance?” Red Robin offered.

Hood shrugged when the tiefling turned to him. “Don’t look at me. I’m the white sheep, remember. The only reason I could give you is that listening to B lecture about maintaining appearances by limiting deaths and going after insignificant criminals gets really annoying after a while, and that’s never stopped me.”

“Are you five done?” Oracle’s hissing voice echoed through the alley as the green mist that had been hovering across the ground began to rise in serpentine forms.

“Just finished downloading the data you wanted,” Red Robin said, closing the laptop and passing a thumb drive to the snake coiling up him.

“Alright, the police are three minutes out so either clean yourselves up or get out of there.”

“I will head in. I need to wash off the common blood and,” Robin glared at Nightwing, “saliva.”

The imp smiled back unrepentantly. “I’ll go with you, hdiiga.”

“I should probably take off as well,” Hood said as the two left. “I still need to check on a few things in my territory. Maybe grab another bite to eat.”

“Please clean up after yourself this time. I don’t exist just to disappear all your bodies.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll behave. Not really in the mood for a lecture from His Majesty anyways,” Hood said with an eye roll and swatted the serpent on him off so he could grapple away.

“Guess it’s just you and me on babysitting duty, Red,” Batgirl said. She stood up and stretched before walking over to Red Robin. “Mind helping a lady freshen up?”

The demon snorted, but his shadows rose to clean the blood off her. As they waited, Red Robin raised his guise to make him appear human and Batgirl pulled up her scarf to hide the part of her pure-white face that wasn’t covered by the cowl.

Once they’d gone through the motions with the humans, Red Robin took off on his bike and Batgirl headed up to the roofs.

“Alright, O. Take me home!”

The green mist that had nearly disappeared in the presence of the humans flared to life and condensed into a large serpent that coiled around the revenant until she couldn’t see anything but green. The mist dispersed after a moment, leaving her standing within a summoning circle at the center of the Clocktower.

Oracle was sitting in front of her at a desk surrounded by computer screens and candles with green flames. A scrying bowl sat in front of her and a laptop was across her lap. As Batgirl stepped out of the circle, the scrying bowl stopped glowing and the candles went out all at once. The otherworlder set her keyboard on her desk and spun her chair around to face Batgirl, the white light fading from her eyes and the light from the screen catching eerily on the cracks across her skin that kept her from glamoring.

As she pulled down her cowl, Stephanie tossed Barbara a pendant glowing with psychic energy. “Brought home dinner!”

“Thanks. Your dinner is in the oven. Tiết canh.”

“You’re the best!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hdiiga is an Impish term. It directly translates to mean an infant imp, but it more generally is used as a term of endearment used by parents for their children or older siblings for their younger siblings.

For the record since they didn't appear:

Bruce is a demon king from the same demonic realm as Tim

Selina is a demigoddess who was granted powers by a cat goddess and, as a result, can reincarnate up to nine times

Helena is a cambion that came about as a result of a shared night between Bruce and one of Selina's past lives

Talia is completely human as was Damian's father (Damian's tiefling traits are a result of Talia and Ra's infusing Damian with Bruce's power during his time in the incubator in hopes of earning Demon!Bruce's favor. They are not aware that Demon!Bruce and Batman!Bruce are the same person)

Bernard is also a revenant (he and Steph were the blonds Jason mentioned)

#dick grayson #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #stephanie brown #damian wayne #batfam #fanfiction

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nakamoto-aesthetics · 4 years ago

Text

Noona | k.jw

synopsis: a typical story about a girl who has a crush on jungwoo but this time... you are his noona

pairing: crush!jungwoo x female!reader

genre: very sexual, with some fluff

warning: hard dom!jungwoo, sir!kink, some teasing, a speck of degradation

word count: 3.9k

a/n: yes the background of the banner says aquarius because the reader in this story is an aquarius😊 (btw: im a scorpio🙃♏️)

“jungwoo” you shout throughout the house. he was supposed to help you set up your iPhone because switching from android to iPhone was a little difficult for you.

the only reason why you switched was that you wanted to FaceTime the other members and do group calls. it was a good way to keep an eye on them in case they were doing things they had no business doing. yeah, you were the mom taking care of all her children. you were the second oldest of the bunch. even though taeil was older, you still treated him like your child.

you were born on February 5th, 1995; you teased johnny all the time about being older since you guys were only 4 days apart. he would play along with you by rolling his eyes or lightly shoving you as a joke. you and he always had a ball when you were with each other, both of you making the group laugh and smile. overall, the members loved you wholeheartedly, it was like you were one of them. you were all family.

footsteps were heard on the hardwood floor and soon the blond head of hair popped up. he was wearing a white hoodie with black baggy pants, the hood was up, the blond hair splayed on his forehead. he looked so damn sexy at that moment. you had to keep yourself from biting your lip.

oh yeah, what you forgot to mention was that you liked jungwoo. yeah, you still treated him like he was your kid but on the side, nobody knew you liked him, except for johnny. he saw the way you looked at jungwoo one time and immediately figured it out. he pulled you to the side after that and you confirmed it to be true. to this day johnny subtly teases you whenever you with jungwoo and you hated it.

“did you get it?” he walks up to you and looks at the phone in your hands. “wow… noona with an iPhone?” he says dramatically.

“shut the fuck up woo” you playfully smack his shoulder and he grins.

“it’s true!” he says loudly and laughs.

“whatever” you roll your eyes playfully, smiling. “can you be quiet and help me now?” you say in a lighthearted manner.

“yes, my lady” he bows and holds out his hand. you try not to break out into a smile but it doesn’t work. a wide grin fills your face as you place the phone in his hand. he then walks over to the table and sits down and you do the same.

the next minutes are spent with you hovering over his shoulder, watching what he does, you putting in emails and passwords as he turns away from the screen, and him asking you security questions.

“okay now enter a pin so nobody can get into your phone” he directs your phone toward you and turns the other way so he can’t see.

‘xxxx’ and then you put it in again. “there,” you say. he looks at the phone again.

“okay now you need face id” he says and taps on it.

“face id?”

“yes you can unlock your phone like that and it just makes everything so much easier. here. just follow the instructions” he hands you the phone and you do exactly that until the end.

“there were done. you know how to do the rest right? download apps, add contacts, change the wallpaper?” jungwoo looks at you.

“yes and if I don’t then I‘ll just ask you” you grin widely, teasing him.

“mm” he hums pressing his lips together as if he didn’t want to help you but in reality, he didn’t mind it one bit.

“you love me woo, there’s no need to hide it” you reach up to brush the pieces of hair that fell in front of his eyes.

“I never hid it,” he says almost too low for you to hear. his eyes were serious, there was no hint of playfulness in his face or tone.

“what are you talking about?” you tense up but continue to brush the other side of his hair out of his eyes.

“I mean that... I like you noona, I like you a lot and I've felt this way since I met you,” you take your hands away from his hair and place them in your lap trying to take in the information. you could’ve been with him this whole time and instead of speaking up as you should have; you waited because you didn’t know if he would feel the same way. right now you were internally punching yourself for being a scaredy-cat. jungwoo notices your actions and there’s a hurt look in his eyes for a second.

“it's okay if you don’t feel the same way, I thought I should just tell you since there was an opportunity. I don’t want it to be awkward just act like I never told you-“

you plant your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. he freezes for a second before kissing you back and wrapping his arms around your waist. fireworks lighting up in both your stomachs; your hearts were pounding rhythmically as your lips were chasing each other’s wanting more of the other's lips.

‘his lips are so soft and pretty’ you thought.

‘her lips are so soft and pretty’ he thought.

neither of you wanted to pull apart but both of you were losing your breath. jungwoo took your bottom lip in between his lips and tugged it as he pulled away. you gasped softly at his action and opened your eyes looking at him.

“wow,” you whisper.

“what?”

“that was so much better than I imagined”

“how so?” he tried to hide his grin.

“because your lips…” you touch your lips with one hand and then touch his with the other hand. your fingers brush over his lips, still mesmerized by the kiss.

“what about them?” he kisses the pads of your fingers that were placed on his lips, making you let out a small breath.

“they’re so soft and plush” he chuckles at your words. you could feel the vibrations of his laugh on your fingertips. you bit lip and stroke his bottom lip.

“and so are yours so come here” he grips your waist and shifts you onto his lap. you let out an ‘oh’ and he places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in for another kiss, you sighed into it and moved your lips at the same pace. it felt so magical and dreamy. you never wanted this feeling to end. your heated bodies pressed together wanting to feel every inch of the other. his hands traveled down to your ass and he squeezed it, making you moan softly. he took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

“jungwoo” you moaned softly but you were muffled by his tongue in your mouth. he continued to feel around your mouth with his tongue, ignoring you.

“well well well,” a voice says making you two pull apart immediately and look at who the voice belonged to. it was johnny. “I see you finally told him y/n” he adds on.

“jungwoo confessed first” you look at him and smile.

“oh wow I’m surprised, I thought you would be the first to say something,” johnny asks and walks to the counter to get something.

“ehh I don’t know. I just can’t believe me and he could’ve been together the first month I met him. I’ve been waiting so long for this moment.” you say and pecks his lips. he smiles and pecks your cheek.

“well now you finally have him, gosh that was so annoying. I knew jungwoo had a crush on you but I couldn’t say anything, it was so frustrating. I’m just glad you guys know now. anyways, I’ll be back later,” johnny puts on his shoes and coat, opening the door. “oh, and jungwoo?”

“yeah?”

“don’t forget to wrap up, if you don’t have any there’s some in my top dresser drawer.” johnny winks at you two before walking out the door.

you laugh loudly and rest your head on jungwoo’s shoulder. he laughs aloud with you and shakes his head. “johnny hyung is something else” he utters.

“that he is” you agree with him. the atmosphere soon grows quiet, only filled with your shared breaths.

“woo?” you say softly, still with your head on his shoulder. you trace circles on the bare skin of his neck.

“mhm,” he rubs your lower back softly.

“what are we?”

“whatever you wanna be” he answers.

“what do you want us to be?”

“I want us to be… together,” he says and it makes you pause for a second. you wanted to be with jungwoo no doubt about that but was it too early? you’ve known jungwoo for 8 months, you practically knew him inside and out at this point he wasn’t that hard to read. most of all though, you loved him wholeheartedly and you loved him too much to take it slow. you were ready.

“me too,” you say against his neck.

“good.” he smiled like an idiot. “you're my baby now and nobody else's” he pulls your face up to his and plants kisses on your neck. you moan softly feeling heat pool to your core. his lips were so plump against your skin you wondered what they would feel like on your-

“you wanna go in the room?” he kisses along your jaw. you persistently nod your head. he grabs your phone off the table and picks you up, walking towards his room.

“do you have condoms?” you ask.

“nope ill have to get some but for now jaehyun has some” he opens the door and shuts it after he walks in.

“who is jaehyun fucking?” you breathily laugh.

“don’t know, don’t care, all im worried about is who I’m fucking” he lays you on his bed and strokes your cheek. your heart skips a beat right then and there. that felt so good to hear, you’d been waiting way too long for this day to come.

he puts your phone on the desk next to his bed and goes to jaehyuns drawer, looking for the condoms. you watched jungwoo attentively, watching the way his eyebrows knitted together and the way he bit his lip as he looked through the drawer. you guided your eyes down his body. you could see the prominent bulge forming under his thin black pants, making you bite your lip. jungwoo was incredibly sexy.

“found them,” he says and soon closes the drawer coming back with a gold square package. he lowers himself so he’s hovering over you. “are you sure you want to do this? we don’t have to if you don’t want to” he caresses your cheek.

“no, I want to do this jungwoo” you hold his cheek in your palm. he smiles softly and kisses your forehead.

“okay noona” he smiles softly and stands up, pulling off his shirt.

“damn...” you breathily whisper and run your hands down his torso, feeling on his abs.

“like what you see?” he chuckles, mocking you but you don’t mind it; much too distracted by his figure.

“like is such an understatement,” you say in a hushed tone.

“what do you mean?” he tilts his head and swiftly looks your figure up and down.

“I love what I see...” you sit up and grip his waist, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“don’t fucking looking at me like that,” he says calmly but there’s aggression under his statement.

“why?” you challenged, continuing to look at him.

“babygirl, you aren’t gonna be able to walk after I’m done with you” he caresses your cheek.

“are you sure your big enough to accomplish that?” you say, making jungwoo cock his eyebrow.

you already could tell jungwoo was big enough to ruin but you wanted to play around and tease him a bit.

“positive” he simply says.

“I don’t think so”

“you’ve never even seen it and a bulge does not count,” he says and you shrug trying to tease him further, he shakes his head at you and scoffs before looking at you again.

“my dick is big enough- you know what why don’t you take a look for yourself” he gestures to his pants. “I mean you're already in the right position” he was right. your face lined up perfectly with the waistband of his pants.

you nod and grip the waistband of his black pants, you gulp and pull them down leaving him in his underwear. his bulge was still prominent, that alone was big so you could only imagine what the full thing looked like. you grip the waistband of them and look up at him; his eyes are staring right back into yours. your breath hitches before you look back down to his waistband. you pull it down slowly and are first met with the base of his dick.

inches on inches.

you couldn’t believe how long and thick he was. it felt like you were pulling the thin fabric down for an eternity.

once he stepped out of the underwear you leaned back so you could see his length completely. your eyebrows raise and your jaw drops.

“am I still not big enough?” he chuckles at your expression. you gulp and shake your head no. you were speechless, you knew he was big but not this big. how could somebody be so long and thick. ‘will it fit?’ you widen your eyes.

“are you done?” he crosses his arms. you look up at him and nod. “good now I want you to strip” he grabs your hands, stands you up and he sits on the bed.

“you want me to give you a show?” you turn around to face him.

“mhm,” he leans back. his hands are behind him, holding him up.

if there’s one thing your good at, it’s giving someone a show. you turn around so your back is facing him. you cross your arms and grip the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head. you let it fall to the floor and reach behind your back undoing your bra. you hold it in place so it doesn't fall and look at him over your shoulder. he’s biting his lip in anticipation. you smirk and let the bra drop to the floor. you run your hands down your sides and over your curves to tease him, this works because you can see the way his dick twitches once you do that.

you decide to stop teasing him and pull down your pants, leaving you in the white lace panties. you can hear his muffled groans and you bite your lip. you loved the way he reacted to you. the smallest things turned him on, you couldn’t wait to tease him soon. you could already see it; you teasing him every chance you get and then you get punished for your actions. oh, how you couldn’t wait.

you slip your panties off slowly and throw it at him over your shoulder.

“good luck getting these back,” he says and puts them under his pillow.

“hey!” you protest, still not turned around.

“I’ll buy you more now turn around please”

“why? just so you can take them?” you say in an irritated voice. those were some of your favorite pairs.

“I’ll get you another pair of those, and I’ll buy two pairs of every underwear, how’s that?” he tries to compromise.

“okay...” you try to hide your smile but it doesn’t work.

“okay now kindly turn the fuck around so I could see that sexy-ass body,” he says impatiently, making you chuckle. you finally turn around and drop your arms to your sides so he can see everything.

his jaw hangs open and he looks your body up and down multiple times, trying to take it all in. his mind was so fuzzy at this moment in time. he’s been waiting to see your body. he’s dreamt of it so many times, often waking up to a little surprise sticking up from under his pants. your body was so much better in real life, it was amazing in the dream but it was so so much better in real life. words couldn’t describe it nor the way jungwoo was feeling at the moment.

“you like what you see?” you mock him. he nods his head quickly, biting his lip.

you chuckle and walk over to him. both of you staring at the other's naked body. his hand goes to your bare waist, moving down to your hips and then ass but he doesn’t squeeze it he just... holds it.

“woo are you-”

“you're so beautiful noona,” he says like he was put under a spell. you chuckle and grab his hands, holding them so then you could sit on his lap. your throbbing pussy brushes his hard dick for a second, making his and your breath hitch. you lay your head on his shoulder and peck his neck.

“I think you beautiful too jungwoo” you already knew he was smiling before you looked up. the smile filled up his face, making his eyes shine brightly. you smile in return and leave soft kisses on his shoulder.

“alright, alright stop before I end up cuddling you instead. I still have to ruin you and make you not walk” his hands go down to your ass and grip it harshly, you breathily gasp, and before you know it you on your back and he's hovering over you.

“you're my little slut tonight noona,” he says in your ear and kisses under your jaw. you moan his name in return, he immediately stops his actions and tilts your chin down so you can see him.

“uh uh what’s my name baby girl” his eyes are dark and his tone is low. he wasn’t playing around this time.

“daddy?” you ask uncertainly.

“wrong” he pulls one of your legs apart from the other so your spread out. he raises his hand and strikes your inner thigh. the loud sound filling the room.

“what the fuck?” you hiss and reach to rub it but before you can he grips your wrist and pins it above your head.

“every time you answer wrong, I hit that same spot. your safeword is y/n and my safeword is jungwoo because it would be weird if one of us just starts shouting our own name. it would catch the attention of the other” he says and you nod.

“is it.. baby boy?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“definitely not” he slaps the spot again and you clench your jaw out of pain.

“what about sir?” you ask and he raises his hand, making you squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation.

“correct” he rubs the red area. you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. he kisses your lips, increasingly getting rougher. you moan against his lips, the sound of heavy breaths now filling the room before he makes his way down your body.

“sir huh, who would’ve thought? honestly, I thought of you more like a daddy kind of guy” you look down at him, he looks up at you with the darkest, most passionate eyes, his lips were red and slightly swollen from the kisses while his hair was slightly messy. it was a sight to see.

“shut the hell up” his hot breath hit the skin of your lower stomach. you bit your lip and nodded, wanting him to continue desperately.

he makes his way down until he’s hovering over your glistening pussy. he spreads you open with two fingers and you throw your head back.

“sir” you cry out, after all, that waiting and anticipation all you wanted was to be touched, licked, and ruined.

“you little slut, so wet for me” he glides his finger down you, making your body convulse. he barely did anything and you were already a mess. you attempted to move your hips closer to his fingers but he was one step ahead of you; his hand gripped your hip tightly.

“if you want to end up getting touched then you better stay still” he warned you.

needless to say, it was a long night.

the morning after, just like jungwoo said you could barely walk.

when you woke up you could already feel the pain down there when you moved your legs slightly. jungwoo did a number on you last night. you wouldn’t be surprised if you find out he had accidentally ripped you open.

nonetheless, you had to use the bathroom but jungwoo was still asleep. you tried to wait it out but scrolling through instagram and tiktok but it came to a point where you just couldn’t hold it anymore. you slowly got out of bed trying not to wake the boy and you successfully did just that.

when your two feet hit the ground, your legs almost gave out on you. you had to hold onto the bed for support. you caught a glimpse of your body and realized you were naked. you looked around for a shirt and saw jungwoos, you stable yourself and walk over, grabbing it and slipping it over your head. it looked like a dress on you, jungwoo was so tall. you then limped to the door and opened it ever-so-slightly, slipping out in-between the small crack.

you limped your way to the bathroom and closed the door shut. you were so proud of yourself because that was not an easy task. he messed you up.

once you used the toilet and washed your hands, after you struggled to sit down on the toilet for a minute or two, you walked out. you headed to the kitchen, hungry from the loss of energy last night. you grabbed leftovers out of the fridge, heating it up on a plate, and then eating it. once you were finished, you put your dish in the sink and were on your way back to jungwoos room but not before seeing johnny.

“woah what happened to you?” he looks at you before he comes to a realization. he smirks. “you and jungwoo must’ve had a ball last night huh?”

“shut the fuck up johnny” you roll your eyes.

“what’s with the attitude?” he drops his smirk.

“nothing- I’m sorry okay everything just hurts right now. he fucked me up huh?” you breathily chuckle.

“yeah he did... so how was it?”

“it was... really fun to be honest. he knows how to work his hips. god, that boy has a lot of stamina” you bit your lip thinking about what happened last night leading up to this point.

johnny cringes at the thought. “nevermind stop I don’t want to know anything else” he waves his hands. you chuckle and hit his shoulder.

“you’ll be fine but if you’ll excuse me. I do have to return to him.” johnny nodded and walked past you. you limped back to jungwoos room, slipping through the crack. you shut the softly and quietly limp your way to the bed, situating yourself back into the spot you were once in. you let out a breath of relief once you realize jungwoo was still asleep. you pick up your phone once more and scroll through twitter.

“told you, you wouldn’t be able to walk after I was done with you,” a deep voice says.

“damn it!” you shout and all you hear is airy laughs from beside you.

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