#when i walk enough i go numb but i am now dealing with the consequences

[hauntedpotat]

WE DID THE HILL A DAY EARLY

HELP

For context at band camp there's a really steep hill and when we march on the streets we go up and then down said hill, while playing etc

I'm not kidding it's probably a 70 degree angle and I know math stuff

I hate it so much because I have snare drum and I can't lift my knees very far without hitting the bottom of the drum so the entire percussion section is just struggling for like 30 feet

[nebulablakemurphy]

Because Of You (Pt.5)

Summary: Rue decides what she really wants, once and for all.

Trigger warning: this is a mature/dark series including drug use, mentions of mental illness, overdose, domestic disputes, the works. These are very real and serious issues that people face and I am not glorifying them in anyway. If you or anyone you know is struggling please reach out to a professional for help.💜

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

In the beginning, when Rue and Y/N first got together, Rue was happy. Probably the happiest she’d ever been. Y/N loved her, really loved her. Harder, better, deeper than anyone else.

She wished Y/N could’ve met her Dad. That those two huge pieces of her life could’ve been one, instead of shattered into separate segments. Before and after.

Rue couldn’t wait to see her, hug her, kiss her…anything with her. Y/N made her feel good, just because she liked making her feel good. She made her feel alive and showed her how good things could be.

And every year, on April sixteenth, Y/N would raise a toast to her best friend and love of her life, for another twelve months sober.

Y/N made Rue sure for the first time that she could keep going. She made Rue want to live. If for no other reason than to be with her. Y/N filled all the broken parts of Rue with love. And then she took it away.

The worst part was, she didn’t even mean to. It was one of those things in life that just sort of happened. Y/N grew up. She made something of herself and Rue watched. Rue played her part. She cheered her on, because that’s what you do when you love someone.

She watched her walk out the door each morning knowing she’d come back a little later than the day before. Rue pretended that was ok, because that’s what you do when you love someone.

Y/N stayed up late with her, making up for lost time. Leaving their bed tired the next morning while Rue got to sleep in. She went to get ready for the day with a kiss to Rue’s head and a grumbled ‘I love you,’ from the brunette. Because that’s what you do when you love someone.

Rue painted on a smile when Y/N talks about their future. About dreams of hers and hers sinks, the white picket fence, 2.5 kids and growing old together. Rue never allowed herself to want those things. But now, here the light of her life sits, telling her that she can have them.

Rue’s scared shitless, but she realized that was exactly what she wanted. Because she loved someone a thousand times more than she loved herself.

Y/N caught her around the waist in their kitchen, making her dance to the sound of silence and their laughter and Rue thought, ‘I can do this. I want to do this.’ For the rest of her life.

The night that Rue hit up Laurie for a few lines of coke and fentanyl she knew it was a mistake. She’s made deals with the devil before and the consequences are always greater than the reward. But she was older now, she can afford what she wants.

“You sure that’s all you need, Rue?” Laurie asked, bringing out an assortment of drugs that would’ve made Rue salivate ten years ago.

She knew that she was about to ruin her perfect life. She thought, stupidly, that it would be a one and done deal.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Ok,” the woman replied. “Well if you change your mind you know where to find me.”

“Thanks,” Rue slid the cash onto the table between them. Stuffing her stash deep into the pocket of her jeans as she stood up.

“Hey, how’s your girlfriend doing? The real pretty one with the Y/H/C hair?”

Rue’s pulse jumped. Y/N was off limits. They don’t talk about her. “She’s good.”

Laurie pursed her lips. “You know, if she ever wants to make a quick buck-”

“No.” Rue cut her off. That was the end of the conversation. If Laurie so much as looked at Y/N wrong Rue would kill her. She wouldn’t hesitate.

No drug could numb Rue enough to see Y/N and the look on her perfect, beautiful, face when she discovered that Rue fucked up. But still Y/N doesn’t toss her out on her sorry ass.

Y/N loved her. And somehow that made Rue feel worse. More anxious, more depressed, because how was she ever going to deserve that kind of love?

How can she be the person that Y/N fell in love with when she doesn’t feel like her anymore? Rue felt like a new, unfamiliar version of the person Y/N wanted her to be. How was Y/N going to love Rue for who she is when Rue wasn’t even sure who she is?

“Rue,” Y/N whispers. Shaking her shoulder, pulling Rue from her thoughts.

“Huh?” She jumps, having taken more narcs than she should’ve. It’s all she can do to keep her eyes open.

“Let’s go home.” Y/N pulls her upright, tossing Rue’s arm over her shoulder for support.

“What? No.” Rue drawls, “I was just taking a piss. I’m good to go again.”

“You were taking a piss slumped over the tampon can?”

Rue laughs it off, “I mean-“

“Please just tell me you didn’t snort off it.” Y/N is funny, funny and beautiful and too perfect for this world. Let alone Rue.

“I’ll do you one better,” Rue leans in to whisper. “I’ve snorted nothing all night. Everything is,” Rue moves a hand to demonstrate, “whoop. Right in my mouth.”

“Nice,” Y/N nods.

“How long do you really think it’s gonna take you to forgive me for all this?”

“I haven’t thought about it.” Y/N admits. She’ll get Rue through this and then worry about forgiveness.

“It’s gonna be bad, isn’t it?” Rue groans, throwing her head back in exasperation. “Like years.”

“Doubt it.” Y/N shrugs, “I never could stay mad at you.”

“I am sorry.” Rue says.

“I know.”

“And I do fucking love you with every cell in my body.”

“Every cell?” The Y/H/C repeats, “that’s a new one.”

“It’s a true one, baby.” Rue gives her ‘the’ look. She thinks she’s slick.

“Oh my god.” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“You know, even when you’re high. You’re like steady. Really steady and I know that I can trust you.”

“You didn’t trust me before?” Y/N cocks her head to the side.

“I always trust you.” Rue thought she knew that by now. “But would you trust me right now?”

“Yeah,” Y/N tells her. “I trust you.”

She shouldn’t. “When you start coming off that benzo you’ll probably want another. I’m not gonna give it to you.”

“For all the times you claim to enjoy vanilla sex, you are deeply, deeply sadistic.” Y/N smirks. “We should explore that.”

“Now?”

Y/N turns to Rue, brushing long curls over her shoulders and away from her face. “I’m strip searching you when we get home and flushing all your baggies down the toilet. You’ll have nothing but aspirin to take the edge off.” Y/N informs her. “The recommended dosage.”

“Sick bitch.” Rue pulls her in for a heated kiss, their tongues rolling together.

Y/N breathes her in, pulling her closer as they stumble into the wall.

“If you wanna wreck me, do it. It’s easier than trying to fix me, I promise.” Rue pants against her mouth.

“We are fixing this, you and me.” Y/N murmurs, hitching Rue’s leg up around her hip, causing the brunette to gasp. “Gonna domesticate you; take care of you, make you happy. I love you so much, Rue.”

“I love-“

“Oh wow!” A voice shouts.

“Lexi?” Rue squints at her, letting her leg slip down from Y/N’s hip.

“I’m sorry,” Lexi keeps both hands over her eyes. “I didn’t realize-“

“We have to uh,” Rue clears her throat, “keep the magic alive.”

“Well that’s…great.” Lexi lowers her hands slowly to her sides. “I’m really glad to see you’re doing well.”

“Still going strong.” Y/N chimes in. “Go team!”

“I have to,” Lexi jerks her thumb toward the stalls.

“Of course,” Rue salutes her, “enjoy.”

Even Y/N does a double take at this. The pair of them dissolving into laughter. Fingers linked together as they move down the hallway, Y/N and Rue against the world. The way it always has been, the way it always will be.

For the first time in a long time, Rue feels permanence in it. This relationship. This life. This forever love. It was silly, running from it and then back to it for all these years.

“I think we scarred her.” Y/N giggles as Rue wraps her arms around her from behind. The two of them waddling down the hallway with Rue’s chin resting on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I’m sure she’s seen worse.” Rue presses a kiss to her jugular.

“You think so?”

“Well Nate said she was here with Fez, like together, together. So I assume that she knows about the birds and the bees.” Rue has a point.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Do you still love Fez?”

“I care about him.” Y/N reaches back to twine her fingers in Rue’s curls. “But I’m not in love with him.”

“Are you sure?” Rue whispers against her skin.

“Totally.” Y/N’s brows furrow. “I’m actually in love with this really beautiful woman. She’s a little bit chaotic, but that’s part of what makes her extraordinary. I lost her for a minute. I will do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“You didn’t lose me. I lost me.” Rue tells her, “I never meant to put all this on you. It’s just that you’re the first person who made me feel like it was ok to share some of whatever the hell is going on up here.” She taps her temple. “You make everything less heavy.”

“As long as I live you’ll never have to do this on your own.” Y/N seals her promise with a kiss to Rue’s cheek. “If I’m moving too far, too fast and you need me, tell me, I’ll be there. I won’t get upset or frustrated. I’ll just slow down.”

Rue nods. “When I uh- when I detox… I don’t think you should be there.”

“So you’re open to doing it in the hospital?”

“No, no hospital.” Rue knows the way that goes. The way they’ll look at her. The way they think about her. She doesn’t want to be that person again. The one the nurses gossip about at lunch, how sad it is. Blah, blah, blah.

“Maybe a rehab center.” Y/N suggests. “I’m sure Dr. Sandford can point me in the right direction.”

“No.” She doesn’t want that either. “I want to stay at home.”

“Like alone?” Not gonna happen.

“Elliot and Jules can take turns checking on me.” If they’ll agree to that…after last time.

“You don’t want me to be with you?”

“I say the worst things in withdrawal. The more I love somebody, the more disgusting the words are.” Rue hates herself for it. “I won’t mean them. I’ll apologize and you’ll forgive me. But I know you, you’ll play them over in your head every night before you fall asleep. Every morning when you wake up. I can’t do that to you. I won’t be able to live with myself.”

“If I leave you while you’re going through hell, I won’t be able to live with myself.” Y/N whispers.

“Is this the part where we compromise?” Rue grumbles.

“I’m not budging.” Not this time.

———————————————————————

When they get home things feel different. They feel…settled. They have a plan. The pills are flushed, the cocaine is gone. Now the real work starts. The withdrawal. The puking, the screaming, the shakes, the shits.

For Y/N it’s different, when she starts coming down from the benzo she’ll just feel everything that she’s been numb to. The drugs will wear off and she’ll be clean.

For Rue it’ll take days. Days and nights spent in hell until everything leaves her system.

Y/N is the one that’ll be in the room. Her support system. Elliot and Jules will be on standby in case she needs back up. To do damage control if people start asking questions about where they are. To call an ambulance if Rue taps out or goes into cardiac arrest.

“Before you start, I need you to write down every drug you’ve taken since you relapsed.” Elliot was an addict. He knows exactly what questions the paramedics will ask if it comes to it. “Zero judgement, just be honest, in case we have to call an ambulance. They need to know exactly what you’re on so they can treat you.”

“Elliot, do me a favor.” Rue replies, numbly. Feeling her high begin to dwindle.

“Yeah?”

“Grab me a piece of paper.” Rue motions to the desk drawer.

He does, laying it in front of her with the pen.

Rue wraps her fingers around his wrist, leaning her head against his forearm. “Don’t let Y/N see unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“I told you I’m done lying.” Elliot strokes a patient hand over her hair.

“I’m not asking you to lie,” Rue turns her gaze up at him. “I’m asking you to protect her.”

“Fine,” he breathes. “But this is the last time.”

Rue nods, jotting down the names of everything she’s gotten her hands on. It feels liberating in a way. A last hurrah. Just a long list of words that hold no power over her anymore. “Last time.”

Part 6

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter nineteen - “tomorrow”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.8k

synopsis: reader is faced with a very distressing ultimatum and has to deal with the consequences.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

authors note: omg pls listen to “water under the bridge” by adele after reading this it’s fits so well

Muted. She felt muted - but not necessarily in a bad way. Everything in her was dialed down and dulled. Over the last couple days, Y/N had toned down her emotions, feeling less. Call it a coping skill. Call it a stress response. Whatever. It wasn't like she was sad about it. In a way, in was comforting - not having some overwhelming internal angst.

It had been a week since that fight she and Bucky got into. The mature part of her was telling her to find him and talk it out like the adults they were. But here's the thing. Over time, before they even had the fight, the number of therapy sessions they were having was less frequent as his treatment was improving. The sessions were more intermittent now, and there wasn't one scheduled for a while. Until then, she felt no desire to talk to him.

Was she mad? Sad? She wasn't sure. She just avoided thinking of things that caused her a considerable amount of distress. At this particular moment in time, Bucky was one of those things. Ergo, she made a constant effort to ignore all thoughts of him.

Though, she somehow couldn't entirely ignore the ever present lack of... Bucky. She had gotten so used to having him close by, used to having someone to talk to, laugh with. His proximity had become a constant. A comfort. She refused to admit to herself that silence didn't feel like silence anymore; it just felt like the absence of his voice.

She found she needed to keep herself busy.

Bucky handled it a bit differently. He had lots of intense emotions but he didn't mute them, per say. He didn't ignore them. He felt them, he definitely felt them. He just kept them bottled up inside and talked about it to no one. It was a very strange change of routine. Whenever he had some sort of emotional turmoil, he would always go to her - therapy session or not - to vent, rant, ask for advice, or just talk through a stream of consciousness. Now he just had to sit with it.

He spent most of his time alone. He missed her.

-

"Hey Shuri," Y/N greeted as she entered the princess' lab.

"Hello," Shuri smiled. "Come sit."

This wasn't a routine visit. Shuri mentioned wanting to talk about something else this time. Something important. She was reminded of this when she walked in to find two Doras sitting with Shuri at a lab table.

"So," Shuri started, "The trigger word experiment. We're here to discuss safety and security."

Shit. That awful thing. It had slipped her mind these past couple days.

"Alright. What are we thinkin'?"

"Well, the Doras don't think it would be necessary to have two of them there with you, but if you would feel safer with two, then that's fine as well."

"I think one is fine. I trust your judgment," Y/N nodded to the Doras.

And I'm not afraid of Bucky, she thought but didn't say.

"We also have a special location to run the experiment," one of the Doras, Ayo, added. "Away from people and secluded in the case of an emergency."

"Okay. That sounds good."

"We understand Barnes is now equipped with the vibranium arm, yes?" Shuri asked.

"Yes, he is."

"Then you need to know something for the experiment."

Y/N's brows furrowed, confused. Was she missing something?

"There's sort of a fail safe built into the arm," Shuri began.

Fail safe?

"There are a series of pressure points when, if hit correctly, will disengage the arm. It will just drop to the ground. So if anything were to happen-"

"I'm sorry, what?"

The expression on Shuri's face changed immediately when she heard her partner's tone. Y/N looked bewildered and almost in disbelief.

"It's there as a precaution in case Barnes needs to be put in check."

Suddenly, every emotion she had been "muting" rushed back into her head. Every feeling for Bucky returned, as well as her compulsion to protect him.

"Building that into the arm shows a complete lack of trust."

"You know what HYDRA did. It's unpredictable, and I'm sorry but we just can't be sure."

"We need to be careful with this so it doesn't blow up in our faces," Ayo said.

"I understand having that precaution for this test, I do. But it isn't just this test. Given it was successful and everything worked out, he was supposed to keep the arm. Right?"

"Right."

"So we fix the HYDRA programming and he's free, but leave the 'fail safe' in so after all of this, he still has someone in control of him."

"The arm is a gift," Ayo stated. "He should be happy he has it at all."

"I understand that, and believe me, he is so grateful. But a gift is for someone else to keep and use as their own. How are we supposed to help him and work with him for months, building trust and aiding him in healing to just tarnish all of that with deception?"

"It's what's best for the protection of all."

"Even after the experiment if it's successful?" Y/N cried in disbelief. "I should say when it's successful. Shuri, I've been seeing his progress for months and working with you on his neurobiology data. Can't you tell how much skill has been put into this? It's us. It's going to work."

"Even still."

"I can't stand for that. I would understand if it was just for this test, but after? We haven't come this far just to not trust our own work and Bucky's deprogramming. He deserves to have someone on his side."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but it's already been done. The arm is already built and being used."

"This is the plan," Ayo declared. "Either you are on board, or you are free to leave Wakanda. We can fly you out as soon as tomorrow morning."

"I can't knowingly be a part of this. It's wrong."

"As I said. Free to leave."

She refused to be a willing participant in perpetuating the loss of Bucky's autonomy. He's been through enough, had enough taken from him. She would not play a single role in taking more away.

"I guess I have to go then," she said, standing from her chair.

She couldn't believe the words coming from her own mouth.

Shuri sighed. "That's very unfortunate, my partner. I'm sorry we couldn't agree on this."

"I am, too. But please. Please consider what this will do to him. It's like saying 'even though we've all been working with you, we don't actually believe that you're not still a weapon.' What is he supposed to think of that?"

"Barnes isn't going to have to think anything about it..."

"...because he isn't going to know," Ayo finished the thought.

"No..."

"It's the way it has to be."

"No it's not."

"Y/N..."

She took a couple steps back, preparing to leave the room. "No, I'm sorry. I can't. He needs to know. I'm going to have to tell him."

"I'd advise against it if you care about your job," called an unfamiliar voice.

Y/N turned to the other Dora, whom she didn't know.

"What?"

"What would your employers think if they knew their doctor had certain... inappropriate relations with a patient? And a very infamous one at that."

She froze, face burning. Her stomach dropped and her breathing stopped dead.

Did they-? Who else-? How did they-? What did they-?

She couldn't form a single coherent thought.

"You are more than free to leave quietly, without any worries" said the Dora, "but if Barnes knows about this, you can be sure that the rest of the world will know about you and your... relations."

It was then when she could feel almost every piece of her world come crashing down. She could feel every test she took, every research project she was a part of, every hour she spent studying for the career that took years to build. The thing she was most proud in this world, the part of herself she most loved. She felt the job she loved and all the things she had learned and accomplished begin to crumble around her.

This career... it was her life. It was her passion. It was all she had. Now she was in immediate danger of losing it. All she could process was fear; she shut down.

Finally, she managed words.

"Okay," she conceded, her defeated voice barely above a whisper. "I'll go... quietly. I'm sorry."

With that, she turned around and took the remaining steps out of the now silent room.

- - -

When she was in the hallway, she felt like she was dying. The guilt was overwhelming. How could she betray him like this? She tried to fight for Bucky to get the truth and now she has to hide it from him and leave him. She has to lie to him.

Y/N was still in shock, completely immersed in her own fear. It felt as if she wasn't in her body. She knew she was moving - walking down the hallway. But her body was just on autopilot; she was gone.

She couldn't tell if she was crying but she could feel a twinging in her eyes and a burning in her nose. She was also hardly breathing so if she was crying, it was nearly silent.

In a faraway echo, she thought she heard her own footsteps. She wasn't sure where they were taking her, but she wasn't sure if she cared.

-

She walked, and she kept on walking for a long time. She could feel the ache in her feet once she sat down in front of the water. She hadn't planned to go to the waterfall - that waterfall... their waterfall. It just sort of happened. Perhaps it was a long enough distance away to feel safe.

She finally let herself think for a moment.

What the fuck had just happened? Her exact fears had come to be. Somehow, someone saw or figured out her and Bucky. It felt worse than she thought it would. Exposed. Embarrassed. Guilty. Humiliated. Distressed.

It was numbing. So numbing that she stared at the little pool and let the white noise of the waterfall clog her ears until she was able to lose track of time.

She had no idea how long it had been when he approached her.

"Y/N!" Bucky's voice called as he jogged over after catching sight of her. "I've been looking for you! Can we please talk?"

His voice snapped her out of it, but her gaze remained fixed on the water in front of her. She wasn't sure what to do, how to engage with him; she froze.

When she didn't even turn her head, Bucky guessed she was still upset with him. He didn't want to be a bother, but he needed to talk to her. He sat down right next to her.

"Okay..." he started, carefully. "I know things aren't great between us right now, but-"

She turned her head to him and the words died in his throat when he saw her face: bloodshot, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. He forgot whatever he was going to say, cupping both sides of her face.

"Oh my god, what happened!? A-Are you alright?"

The cool metal of his hand on her cheek made her want to scream, reminding her of what she could not tell him. Reminding her of the searing guilt. Trembling hands reached up to touch his arms. And then he saw the quiver in her lip.

"Oh, honey," he cooed, worried. "Hey... Hey, talk to me. Talk to me, what's wrong?"

He was so concerned and so sweet even after they had a huge blowout. If possible, it made her feel even worse. She didn't deserve his kindness anymore. She just stared into him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen.

Bucky had never seen her like this and he was scared. Was it because of him and their fight? He supposed so. What else could it have been?

"I'm so sorry, please don't cry," he caressed the back of her head with one hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of what I said, I was just mad. You were right. I feel awful, I had no idea it upset you this much."

Their fight was the very last thing on her mind. Looking back on it, it seemed like such a trivial thing compared to now. But he thought this was his fault. She wanted to break into a million tiny pieces and let the wind blow her away.

She shook her head. "Bucky, no. It's not that. It's not you."

He looked so confused. She felt so bad.

"Then what... what's wrong?"

"I'm leaving."

Bucky leaned back, perplexed, and his hands slid down to rest on her forearms. "Leaving? You're leaving Wakanda?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, hey- You don't have to leave. We can figure something out. We were too risky, you were right. I understand that now. We don't have to do that anymore. We can make sure that we're always completely in private from here on out."

She shook her head, staring down at the grass below her. "I'm sorry, I can't... I can't do that. I have to leave."

She could barely look him in the face.

"You don't, it's okay," he implored. "I know it worried you, but it really only was Steve. And I know, I know it could have been anyone and I get that. I thought about it, and I get it. We don't ever have to... sleep together... again. We won't be distracted, and-and we'll be careful."

She clenched her eyes shut, trying not to let her burning eyes release more tears. It didn't work.

"Bucky..."

"Baby doll please," his voice cracked while he tipped her chin up to meet her eyes again. "We can just-... we can just go back to the way it was before. In the very beginning. We can- we'll only see each other in sessions, we don't-... No more lake trips or all-nighters or anything just-"

He sharply inhaled, beginning to ramble as his breath became unsteady.

His voice shook just slightly. "You can barely even talk to me if you don't want to- just please don't go..."

She thought a part of her cracked and died at that moment. She sprung forward and held him as tight as she could. Instinctively one of Bucky's arms was around her back and the other cradled the back of her head.

She thought maybe if she held tight enough, she could keep them together and she wouldn't have to leave him there alone. Of course he would be fine, but he would spend the rest of his time feeling like it was his fault that she had gone.

She couldn't let him think this was his fault.

"Buck, I don't wanna leave you. But I have to do what's best for the both of us. You'll be just fine without me. I promise."

He didn't think so.

"I'm putting your treatment and my career in jeopardy if I stay," she continued. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to either of us. I'm sorry if you hate this and I'm sorry if you hate me for doing it."

He mumbled something in the crook of her neck, but she couldn't hear it. She pulled back from the embrace.

"What?"

"I could never hate you."

Despite the fact that she was so internally distraught, despite what happened with Shuri and the Doras, with having to tell Bucky she was going to leave him, with having to watch him beg her to stay, despite the extreme dread and guilt within her, she still looked at him and felt so much love.

She was doing the very thing he feared and all he could do was care for her.

"God, I'm gonna miss you," she breathed before grasping his jaw, and pulling his head to hers.

Bucky tasted salt and he couldn't tell if it was his or her tears mixing into their lips.

As much as he wanted her to stay, he could sense how serious she was about this. He wouldn't be able to convince her to stay even if he tried. And he already did.

He could only soak up as much of her as he could before she left, and be with her until she had to go. He had no idea how much time he had. Wait-

"When are you leaving?" he broke the kiss as soon as the thought arose.

She was silent for a moment when another tear dripped down her face. "Tomorrow."

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @small-death-and-codeine @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates @augustbucky @itsthemaree @undiadeestos

[balmasedas]

desperado / druglord!javier peña au. 

chapter one.

summary: reader is a dea agent. violence has arisen in the streets of colombia and she's determined to bring javier peña to justice. things take an abrupt turn when, instead of her finding him, he finds her and realizes they got much more interest in each other than just drug-related topics. 

warnings: only +18. overall, this is smut so smutty. canon violence. detailed warnings in every chapter. spanish traductions are in the notes, though for the sake of non-spanish speakers, spanish dialogues will be minimal and not relevant to the plot.

word count: 2.5k.

You throw your sweater in the backseat of your car before exiting it. In the morning, you had dug through your boxed-up winter clothes after shivering in your shirt-sleeves as soon as you got out of your department. Now, the temperature has risen to the seventies and you give yourself a clap in the back for deciding to wear something decent underneath. Spring in Colombia is a nightmare.

The crime scene is packed with local police and DEA agents. There are no civilian spectators this time, they know better than sticking their noses in the Medellin's cartel businesses.

Upon your arrival, you don’t need to identify yourself to the uniformed men guarding the perimeter. They know you well by then. You are the only female in the team that has to deal with these kinds of situations —gruesome, gut-churning, dirty shit. Not a very much "lady-like" job, some would express. For that, you have earned yourself the title of a gritty woman. Maybe because you were gritty, maybe because you were a woman.

Sometimes, though, you find yourself wondering why you turned down some run-of-the-mill desk job back in Virginia. It would’ve been a dull routine, for sure — hideous, even; but gossiping about some flash romance between two co-workers is less taxing than having to witness five rotting corpses at first daylight. 

"Jesus Christ," you lift your sunglasses to your head. Your partner, esteemed, weary agent Steve Murphy, turns around at the sound of your voice. 

“You’re up early.” he asserts, with a raised eyebrow. 

You purse your lips. “Had a bad night. Ran out of whisky at one am.” 

Not even Hugo, or Hughie for his gringo friends, could help you. You forgot that his daughter would be celebrating her birthday and his all-night store would be closed until the next morning. Normally, you would own an arsenal of alcohol, but it has been an abnormal week and a hell of a night —starting with the spiral of violence that has arisen in the streets of Medellin.

"Well, look at the bright side: your stomach is empty," Murphy mumbles.

Looking at the bodies in front of you, you can’t agree more: their hands are tied-up to the oxidated wire behind them, hanging by their arms. They are barefoot and scantily clad. There is a visible gunshot wound in all of their front heads, some flies are already hovering around the open flesh. A quick death to eternal torture, you suppose.

"When did you get the call?" you inquire.

He fiddles with his wristwatch. "About two hours ago." you only hum in response, keeping your eyes in front of you and paying no mind to Steve who only grows impatient at your silence. "You think this was Peña's job?" he adds.

You nod in denial. "If it was, it doesn't make sense." Not one bit. "Peña works underground, quiet, like a sneaky rat. I'd even say they're more well-behaved than most cartels. So why do this?"

Why such a declaration of violence? Why draw even more attention from the authorities? 

"Maybe he decided to toughen his punishments?” You scoff at his remark.

“He can do that without half the city knowing it. A ditch is much more subtle than a monument to death blocks from the US embassy.” 

Murphy smirks. “Seems that you have given it a thought before, Sarchie.” you narrow your eyes. He knows you hate that nickname. Your tendencies to boss him around had brought you consequences: the unofficial title of a Sargeant. Sarchie, shortened and friendly.

“Killing someone? Yes, you. Multiple times a day.” you put your sunglasses back on and walk away. The forensic police won’t be there until the next half hour, at least, and you are too disquiet to wait around. Plus, your stomach is growling, but Steve doesn’t need to know that. “We’re gonna need their names, I’ll see what I can find. You have a little chat with the coroner and see if they can speed up the autopsy. The sooner the better, ok?” you spot the smirk on his face. You know what he’s thinking. You shut your car's door and point a finger at him through the window. A clear warning sign in your eyes. “Shut the fuck up and do it.”

(,,,)

Happy hour. You give up on the investigation and stop off at ‘Chiquita’, a popular local bar near your place. The prices are cheap, the drinks aren’t that good but they do the job. The place is crowded — hot couples with wet, glowing skin grinding against each other. Happy or horny or both. You take a mental note to have some fun later. 

As you sip at your bourbon and crack your peanuts, you let yourself dwell on what you found out about your case. You finally got the names of your five guys. For that, much research wasn’t needed: All of them had their IDs in their pockets and they were exactly who you feared they were: no ones. No ties to any big names, no official involvement in any cartel — at the most, a few minor possession charges. As for weeks, your few clues have led to nowhere and the enigma surrounding the Medellin cartel seems to worsen with every minute that passes by.

You hate mysteries. Colombia’s full of them. 

You take your second bourbon in one smooth shot and ask for another. You grab a colombian peso from your wallet and slide it across the wood. Your eyes stop at the picture of your parents that you carry around. It’s tiny and worn, just like your relationship with them. They haven’t heard from you in weeks, a fair deal, if anyone asked. They don’t have to deal with their fucked up daughter and you can focus on your work filled with dead ends and a ghost that haunts you while you’re awake: Javier Peña.

“¹Qué tomas, preciosa?” a velvety voice caresses your ears. A pleasant smile breaks quietly over your lips. Just in time.

You turn your head to the side. The stranger, with chocolate-skin and inviting eyes, is waiting for an answer. You tap your fingers against the glass.

"Bourbon," you say. "²Pero no me vendría mal un trago más." he grins and holds up two fingers to the barman. He sits at the empty seat beside you, he’s exuberating confidence. He’s offered you the bait and you'd taken it.

"³Algo más que se te ofrezca?"

You look him in the eyes. You know how the story goes from there. It isn’t any different than the one from last night, or the night before. As an apex predator, he's out for something to satisfy his hunger. He won't go home without reaching his goal and you're desperate enough to let him.

"⁴Sí. Hay algo más que puedes hacer por mi."

(,,,)

The fucking cat on the window has been staring straight into your eyes for the last fifteen minutes. Matias, the guy you've met hours before, is too focused on you to notice the awkward presence of the animal, so you don't bother shooing it away. 

He's enjoying himself, pounding into you in a symphony of lust bites and moans. But the sound of skin on skin doesn't match the intensity of your passion for this encounter.

It's not that his performance was terrible, it was just... soft. So soft, too soft. From the sweet nothings, he gasps on your ear to the gentleness of his grip on your hip. 

You aren't a sweet girl. If you were sweet, you wouldn't have traveled all the way down to Colombia to participate in the war on drugs. If you were fond of delicateness, you would've stayed inside and touched yourself to a Cristina Peri Rossi novel instead of searching for strangers at bars.

You don't like to believe you are a special case. On the contrary, you assume your attitude is the rule and not the exception. Not a hell of a woman, but a woman made of hell – waking up already worried about the hours ahead of you. How could you not? Your life is as wide and empty as the sky. Unstable, unpredictable. Anything can happen. A good meaningless fuck is the only moment you allow yourself to feel something — someone. By then, the detachment that gets you through the day disappears and raw feral emotion takes its place. 

You are addicted. It's like a drug, but worse. Drugs don't have feelings, people do.

You’d grabbed Matias' hand and wrapped it around your neck a few times but your request had been ignored; you’d even pushed his ass against your body so you could get closer to a feral touch, but he had insisted on something more caring and delicate. 

And delicacy just won't do. 

So, after a few tries, you give up. You lay still, under his heating body, dead eyes directed at your window. No emotion whatsoever, no release. Like a numb, stiff sex doll, rooting for his satisfaction. Forgotten until next time.

“⁵Donde?” he blurts in your ear. You evaluate your options quickly. 

“⁶Adentro.” Any other place would demandsñ more attention. By then, he would be aware of your passivity and asking too many questions. You don't answer questions, you make them.

His body tenses and trembles. You feel heat dripping between your legs but it doesn't come from you. He leaves a few small pecks on your neck — thankfully, the last ones for the night. Matias breathes over you for a few seconds before he gets off. You stare at the roof in silence, and when he asks if you finished, you simply nod.

You can't grasp what he says under his breath after you ask him, as nice as possible, to leave. What he does or doesn't vocalize, it doesn't matter. You won't be repeating with him. You never fucked the same person twice. 

Once you hear the front door shut, still resting on your bare skin, you lit a cigarette. The room is void of artificial light, and the cat is still in the same place, with his silhouette contoured by the gleam of the moon.

"Sneaky bastard." you chuckle, then get up from the bed and slowly approach it.

You stop at the wooded frame of the window, maintaining your distance. Not too close to scare him or him to scare you. He isn't a friendly guy. He isn't even yours — just a grumpy cat that stops by your department too often demanding some food. You tried to get him to come inside before, but all you had won from your offers were a couple of scratches. Nonetheless, the cat has seen more of you than many people have. So, even though you renegade from him, you found yourself inevitably attached. He's the closest thing to a family, after Murphy, of course. But Murphy hasn't seen you on your worst, yet.

"Hope you see the same shit I see." you grimace and shake your head. "Not like that, I mean... I should choose better who to fuck with. And they should choose better too." the cat remains silent –obviously– and you keep talking. "You could make yourself useful and spook them away before I have to." he meows, you roll your eyes and decide to leave him alone. "Then again, I could do it myself if I told them I hold long conversations with the stray cat that lives in my window."

You choose to take a bath and call it a night. You glide through the living room, though before you can reach the bathroom something stops you. There's a noise outside, some glass breaking down on the streets. You can ignore it, conflict isn't a foreign subject in Colombia, especially at late hours. But then it repeats itself a second time, and the third bugs you too much for you not to grab your night robe and take a look at it from your window.

The only light pole is out of order; there's not a soul in sight; music can be heard from afar. You see nothing out of place until you do.

Your car is parked across the street. All four windows have been smashed, the tires are flat. You barely waste time cursing before you flee out of your place. You thought the night couldn’t get worse but the world has a disturbing obsession with testing your patience. 

Once you take a step outside and approach your damaged car, you’re not sure where your chills are coming from. Perhaps, because of the unfriendly weather or maybe because you’re suddenly aware of how idiotic was your decision to go outside. 

Everything inside your vehicle is left untouched. There weren't objects of value anyways. You find no logical reason for someone wanting to wreck a car just because —yours, of them all.

Big red warning signs color your mind. Your eyes scan your surroundings with speed. It's a dark, lonely dessert. You're now sure that what happened isn't some random event. The victim could've been to another person, but you weren't just another person.

"⁷Discúlpeme, señorita." a voice throws yourself far from the source. You reach for your gun just to find nothing there. Damn you. "⁸Está bien?" you look at the man. An old man that, at first glance, doesn't represent a threat. His voice is gentle, his voice is tinted with a caring voice. You lower your defenses, just a bit, not enough to stay around.

"⁹Sí." you mutter.

Slowly, you walk back to your apartment. Old man glues his eyes to your form and you don't take your own off from his'. Before reaching the sidewalk, you trip with something. Your back collides against a car and you're ready to apologize when the owner exits it there’s not a sign of rage in his face. On the contrary, his stare is blank and his mouth doesn’t even twitch.

Bad news.

You intend to run, but another guy blocks your passage and two more appear at each side of you. You turn over to ask the old man for help, but he’s gone along with your last piece of hope. Can’t blame him, you would’ve escaped too if you had the chance. However, you can’t and the smartest thing to do is acknowledge it and work from it. 

You stay still thinking it will persuade them to opt for gentle treatment. 

How naive of you. 

A set of fingers dig into your arms, another one grabs you by the neck and lowers your head as they drag you into their car. Guarded by two of them who sit at your sides, a dark cloth bag is placed over your head and your wrists are restricted with a zip tie. 

All you have left now is your hearing, you pick up a few things: the engine roaring, the tires burning on the asphalt as you speed off, some spanish words thrown in the air. Nothing substantial, nothing of use.

You sit in silence and wait for the worst.

[atiny-dazzlinglight]

Red Strings of Fate - Chapter 3

Genre: Fantasy, Fluff, Angst, Slight Humor, Romance

Rating: PG-13

Au/Tropes: Supernatural AU, Demons AU, Monster AU

Pairing: No pairing, Eventual OT8

WC: 14.9K

Chapter Warnings: Symptoms of PTSD mentioned, Jealousy, Manipulation, Implied Smut (at the end but no graphic details)

Ao3 Link

Notes: As I said in the last chapter notes, we are back into Hongjoong’s pov and we are continuing from where we last left off. So please enjoy!

Taglist located at the bottom. Fill out this form if you want to be added.

Last Adventure☜︎☜︎ Next Adventure☞︎☞︎

Hongjoong eyes widened as he felt the other male bring his arms in front of him, stretching them both out in front of him.

He watched the prince’s hand touch the hilt of his sword and that’s when Hongjoong squirmed.

“ I asked a question. Your left hand or your right hand?” He drew his sword closer as he bent down.

“ Please! Don’t do this! I do anything else! Just don’t cut off either of my hands.” Hongjoong pleads, his heart beating fast and damn near in his throat. He hasn’t felt this type of fear since Liam and Elijah. His body started to feel numb as Seonghwa sat there as he decided which hand he wanted to cut.

Hongjoong squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to think of something other than the fact that he’ll be losing a hand. The advisor was holding his forearms firmly and out the way as his sword hovered before selecting his left hand.

Seonghwa nearly brought the sword down and through the flesh and bone of his wrist when he stopped. The faintness of aura seeped into the air and had his body hesitate. It was nothing great from the array of beings he dealt with before, but it’s more so the fact of that type of malicious aura coming from a human.

The prince used his free hand to lift Hongjoong’s chin, “ What are you?”

Hongjoong was confused as he looked up at is blue eyes, “ What?”

“ Don’t try to lie to me. I asked you what you are?” He watched his brows get furrow, clearly a tad annoyed from his first answer.

“ I’m a human.”

“ Don’t lie to me.” Seonghwa grit through his teeth as Hongjoong shook his head back and forth.

“ I swear! I’m just a human man who has human parents and average human strength. There is nothing else to me. A simple peasant boy and nothing more!” Hongjoong yelled at him, his voice firm as he felt his head get pushed down near the ground.

“ Watch your tone.” The man above him said as Hongjoong tried to shake his hand off of him.

Seonghwa had glanced at his advisor. Hongjoong watches them have a silent conversation through their eyes for a minute before Hongjoong gets pulled up off the ground and made to stand on his feet. The bag he stole snatched off his hip as he watched the prince hang it from his belt.

He walked past Hongjoong, and the shorter male watched him before he shoved him to follow. The brown-haired elf gave him a look when he turned around. Hongjoong huffed as he just followed him, knowing very well that he can’t outrun them again. His legs were still screaming at him due to their soreness.

Hongjoong walked through the less crowded area that he ran through just some moments ago. He looked around at the brick structures, covered with vines, a few flowers blooming that he didn’t notice before that he found pretty.

“Don’t even think about trying to escape from us again.” He heard the elf behind him say as he turned his head behind to look at him.

“ Can I have your name?” Hongjoong asked, and he can tell that he threw the wood elf off. His brows raised enough to give himself away.

“Why would you want to know?”

“Well, it’s annoying to try and talk to someone without addressing them with at least a name. I was raised better than that.” Hongjoong watched the man’s face before he slowly opened his mouth.

“It’s Yeosang.”

“Well, Yeosang, I would like to tell you that I have no plans to escape because my legs are still screaming at me even now as we walk, so no, I don’t plan on escaping,” Hongjoong spoke, watching him all the same as he noticed they made it back to the Main Street of where he first ran from them.

Hongjoong watched the prince head back to the stands, and when Hongjoong went to follow, his shoulder was gripped tightly and turned in the opposite direction.

“I thought we were following the prince,” Hongjoong asked as he forced him to go in the direction of a carriage, opening the door to move him inside. He watched the elf say something to the driver before getting in himself and shutting the door.

“ We will be staying here until the young prince comes back from finishing his errands he was supposed to do before you foolishly stole from him.” Yeosang spat out, obviously still passed that he had to bring him here.

“Again, I am sorry for what I did, but I truly needed the money.” Hongjoong watched as that only made the other man more upset.

“You don’t have to steal from people to gain money. There are always other options. It’s the lowest of lows to steal from others.” Yeosang criticized him, and it slowly started to make him irritated.

“You know I have been trying to get a regular job since I traveled here three years ago. I did everything I could for a job and was denied every second I tried. I was forced to be homeless for six months, and I still struggle to find a solid job, even after someone was kind enough to offer me a home. I wasn’t raised to steal by my parents, but when the people and the city are so unforgiving to me every chance they get, am I supposed to accept it?”

Yeosang wasn’t expecting him to speak to him like that, and he tried his best not to have that shred of pity for him show on his face, “ Everyone has a hard time at some point in their lives. You haven’t seen anyone steal here.”

Hongjoong scoffed, and it made Yeosang turn his attention back to him, “ Just because you don’t hear or see anything doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. I’ve seen plenty of them because we can all recognize each other.”

“It’s not that many of them. There’s always a group of bad people in a sea of good.” Yeosang rebuked, but Hongjoong was quick to respond.

“The line between good and evil and what is right and wrong can be blurred, and if you work in that damn castle, then you should know that very well. Not all the people who steal are bad because they have to choose to steal to make ends meet simply. If stealing were such an issue, there would have been reports about such, yet they never make a fuss because what’s pocket change to you is a fortune for us. Our values and lifestyles are the opposite of each other, so just because you can’t fathom the idea doesn’t mean you are right.”

Hongjoong didn’t care how reckless his tongue was. He wasn’t going to let some uppity wood elf, who only knows how to kiss the ass of the rich that has gold endlessly, fall into their hands. He can royally fuck off.

He saw it in his face.

He saw that he wanted to argue back with him, and he was ready for him to, but then the door of the carriage opened to reveal the prince holding a few things. He looked between the two of them with a raised brow.

“ Was there something that I missed?” He asked, looking at Yeosang, waiting for a response.

Yeosang gave him another look before turning back to the prince, “ Everything is fine. Do you need any help?”

Seonghwa nodded, passing the flowers and bags of fruit to Yeosang, telling the driver to head back to the castle before climbing inside next to Yeosang. Hongjoong felt the carriage move as he huffed.

He should have just listened to Eden. He told him not to get too greedy, or he would deal with the consequences.

But what else was he supposed to do?

Eden stuck his neck out to help him instead of living on the street for the rest of his life. Eden started by stealing until he could have enough to open his tavern. Since then, he had a simple life, and even when following the proper protocols, the city takes most of his earnings and barely has enough for his expenses.

He even makes sure to feed him and make sure that he’s well-nourished and is clean.

All he wanted to do was give the man that helped him start a new life after being forced to start over again, and he couldn’t even do that.

Hongjoong didn’t want to look sad in the carriage with the two elves, but the shift in his demeanor and facial expressions didn’t go unnoticed by the prince that stayed silent.

Seonghwa couldn’t wrap his head around what gave off that malevolent energy from the supposedly human male. It didn’t look like he could use magic, and he gives off no type of physical distinctions of being nonhuman. So what could it be?

He couldn’t help his c,urious nature about it. He hasn't come across someone like him, and he just had to figure it out for himself before he disposed of him.

The carriage stopped and Yeosang was quick to open the door for the prince and Hongjoong tried his hardest not to roll his eyes at his eagerness. The Prince stepped out first, and Hongjoong followed after Yeosang retrieved the purchases they made in town.

Hongjoong eyes scanned the massive structure in front of him, eyes glancing at the fountain in front of the building, slowly walking along the perimeter, mouth slightly agape.

He has always seen the manor from the tavern, and it was always quite beautiful from there, but seeing it in person was something different.

It was elegant and refined. It was truthfully exquisite, curious and Hongjoong found himself angry that he would have dreamed of something like this.

“If you're done daydreaming, follow me,” Yeosang said, making the smaller man turned to him. They both started to walk inside, and Hongjoong rushed to follow behind them, ignoring the side glances that the guards had given him.

The walls were massive, ceilings high with the sun gleaming on the stained glass from the colorful windows above them. Paintings of other high elves mounted on the wall that Hongjoong admired before he nearly bumped into the back of Yeosang.

He watched Seonghwa walk away down the hall, hair flowing behind him as Hongjoong found him watching the prince's body get smaller before he was plucked in the center of his forehead. Looking up, he saw the wood elf scowl at him.

“ Follow me, and don’t you dare try any unnecessary crap.” He scolds, and he ticked Hongjoong off for how he acted towards him.

“ I’ll follow if you tell me where exactly we are going.”

“ I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“ Then I’ll stay right here in this hall.” Hongjoong moved to the wall before sitting down on the floor, enjoying the irritated look on his face.

“ By the Gods, why are you humans so damn difficult?” He berated and it made Hongjoong give a dry laugh.

“ By the Gods, why are wood elves so damn stuck up?” Hongjoong retorted with a smile as he watched him get angrier, “ I promise I can be such an easy guest here and for you, but if you continue to be such a prick to me, I’ll make everything worse for you.”

Yeosang walked over to him and reached for his arm, pulling him up, “ I promise that I’ll cut your tongue off with my sword if you keep running your mouth like this.”

“ If you or the prince wanted to do something, you two would have done that by now. But instead, you brought me here. I don’t know why you both had brought me here against my will, but I do know that if he didn’t tell you to do anything to me, then you can’t.” Hongjoong shook out of his grip as they both stared at each other, “ Now start treating me with some common decency and then this can be easier for us both.”

Yeosang looked at the man up and down, thinking over what he said before mumbling something that Hongjoong couldn’t hear and walking away from the human, “ Just follow me to the living quarters.”

Hongjoong taking his time to follow behind him, a few feet behind him as he stared into the back of the wood elf’s head, “ Why am I going to the living quarters?”

“ Would you prefer the dungeon instead? You living with the other servants of the family sounds too generous in my eyes.” Yeosang looked over and nearly laughed as Hongjoong quickly shook his head, “ So, as I said, that is where I am taking you for now.”

Hongjoong was confused. He tried to steal from the prince and he didn’t lose any limbs. The dungeon would be the most appropriate place for him to be, but he will stay around the other workers who also live in this massive estate. It didn’t make sense to him, and it made him a bit uneasy since he feels that there’s an ulterior motive for doing this.

Hongjoong was led far down the corridor, passing other workers that greeted them and waved at Yeosang or ask him for quick advice that he happily answered. He could tell that they all looked up to the elf and valued his input. Yeosang also looked genuinely happy and satisfied to help them. So maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as Hongjoong seemed.

Yet again, the harsh behavior could be due to his sticky fingers grabbing the heavy bag of gold and running away when they gave him a chance to return it with no issues.

“ This will be your room until the prince says otherwise.” Yeosang pushed a door open and stepped to the side to let Hongjoong step inside. Hongjoong quietly walked inside, mouth slightly open as he looked at the beautiful room. He walked around the bed, admiring its size as Yeosang watched him from the door. Hongjoong hand touched the sheets and was amazed by how soft they were.

Hongjoong felt like this room cost way more than his life and his next two lives too.

He’s never been in such a place before and he couldn’t help but be stunned by its elegance.

“ Thank you.” Hongjoong’s voice was low, but Yeosang heard him, a tad intrigued by his reactions.

“ If you plan to thank anyone, then thank the prince when he comes by the room. Stay in this room until he comes back and tells you what you can and cannot do. I have other tasks to take care of, so I will be leaving you here alone. However, that doesn’t mean that you can do anything stupid and try to escape. If you try to leave, I will personally come after you myself. Do I make myself clear?” Hongjoong nodded as Yeosang spoke to him.

Hongjoong watched Yeosang close the door and his footsteps leading down the hall before it got quiet.

Hongjoong let out a deep sigh as he took his boots off as he looked around the room, his toes wiggling in the plush carpet underneath his feet as he never felt something this soft. He wondered what animal the fur came from.

He pushed it all to his mind as he walked around the perimeter of the room, hands dragging across the wooden dressers.

He pulled open the drawers to find some clothes sitting inside. He wasn’t sure if he should touch them or not. He doesn't want to give the tawny-haired elf any type of motivation to yell at him. Not that he cared, but more so that he didn’t feel like dealing with that.

So Hongjoong silently walked back to the bed and hesitantly sat down on its expensive sheets. They were soft to his touch. Fingers gliding with ease as he somewhat became enthralled with the material that he never experienced before. It was then that he decided to lay down on the bed completely.

He felt his body slightly sink into it, almost welcoming him with such ease that he closed his eyes for a minute.

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t know how long he would be able to touch such luxury. He exhaled before inhaling the strong smell of fresh cotton from the bed, and Hongjoong felt his aching muscles from running sigh along with him.

He would do anything to be with Eden and laugh around with the patrons of his tavern because that’s his home, but he can’t help but wish to be entangled in this lifestyle just a bit longer.

The moment Hongjoong’s body started to quiet down and convince him to relax in this unfamiliar place, the door opened suddenly, and it made him open his eyes and immediately sit up in the bed.

He greeted him with the face of the prince, who happened to be alone this time. You couldn’t see Yeosang at all from where he sat, and he didn’t see him in the hall either before he shut the door behind him.

It was quiet.

Both of them were staring at each other. Hongjoong, not knowing what to expect from the prince, sat back near the headboard of the large bed. Seonghwa's eyes were piercing him as it felt like he was planning something that Hongjoong had no idea of.

“ It’s good to see that you got comfortable enough for a nap here, but now I have business to talk to you about.” His tone was harsh, and Hongjoong knew that he better pay attention to what he had to say. “First off, I’ll introduce myself. I am the first prince of Crescent Hill and next in line to the throne, Park Seonghwa. What is yours?”

Hongjoong swallowed before answering him, “K-Kim Hongjoong.”

“So Kim Hongjoong is the name of the man who was foolish enough to steal from me in broad daylight?” Seonghwa started as he walked away from the door and made his way to the center of the room. Hongjoong’s eyes following him the whole time he moved, “ But this is now besides that point of you being a petty thief.”

“Then what is this about?” Hongjoong asked him as he adjusted himself on the bed. Hongjoong admiring his side profile before he stopped his pacing and turned his head in his direction.

“ What did I ask you out in the alleyway?” Seonghwa hinted at and watched Hongjoong rake up his brain for the answer before looking back up at the high elf.

“ You had asked me what I was?”

“ And I still need an answer to the question.” Seonghwa turned his body to face him completely.

Hongjoong huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “ I did give you an answer. Whether you find the answer I gave earlier efficient enough is a problem for you and not myself.”

It was then that Seonghwa crossed the room very quickly and had slammed his hand beside Hongjoong’s head on the headboard. It startled Hongjoong enough to jump and stare up at the prince with wide eyes. His blonde brows were furrowed and his eyes were sharp.

“ You may have human strength and some human agility, but your aura says differently. I know I’m not wrong in this.” Seonghwa argued and he saw the confusion in Hongjoong’s expression once more.

“ What is an aura?” He questioned, a slight tilt of his head as he waited for an answer from him.

“ Aura is this very distinctive atmosphere that surrounds and is generated by a person, place, and thing. Whether it is small or big, there’s some type of aura surrounding everything around us. So that also includes humans, but usually, it’s a tiny amount of aura that’s produced from them, and they are all generally the same.” He explains in great detail as Hongjoong listens.

“ So, what is the problem with my aura?” Hongjoong looked up at the elf, now curious in his reasonings.

“ Despite it being faint, I sensed such evil and tainted aura coming from you that wouldn’t be possible for a regular human to generate. As much as history knows, it’s completely unheard, yet here you are.” Seonghwa gritted through his teeth, and it made Hongjoong glance down.

None of this made any sense to him. He was strictly human and nothing less.

How could he be walking around with a ‘tainted’ aura like this?

It made his head spin as the back of his head rested against the headboard. Seonghwa pulled his face away but was still fairly close as he sat down on the bed. He was still staring at him when he looked up.

“ I seriously don’t know how to answer your assumptions about me. I was born by human parents and was surrounded by nothing but humans for the most part. I wouldn’t know how this could happen.” Hongjoong’s eyes were cast down, still lost in thought as Seonghwa tried to think of some possible explanation.

“ You said you were surrounded by humans ‘ for the most part.’ So I can assume that you are around other beings besides them. If that is true, then can you tell me what type of species you commonly stayed around.”

Hongjoong gave an empty laugh as he looked back up at the prince, a look of agitation in his eyes, “ My old home had a small number of nonhumans who lived there peacefully, but there was a pair of demons who decided to make my life a living hell because I stopped them from hurting someone.”

Hongjoong crossed over his chest as he chewed on his bottom lip as he thought about, “ It was always stupid things and nothing serious, but the last time, they crossed the line and hurt me real bad.”

His mind flashed to that brutal beating. He heard their morphed voices and laughter echoing in his head until it overlapped, and he wanted to leave his mind. He was hearing Ava screaming for them to stop and to leave him alone. He was feeling incapable of breathing since he got slammed down. Remembering how weak he felt, how tiny he truly felt, and how hopeless he felt.

Seonghwa watched the look of pain and terror rise to his face, and it took him by surprise. The smaller male was squeezing his arms so tightly that he could see his blunt nails slowly dig into his skin. He could see him holding his breath and never exhaling.

“ Kim Hongjoong?” He questioned, hesitantly reaching forward to tap his leg.

Hongjoong was so deep in the nightmare replaying in his head that when he felt something touch him, he jumped back. Panicked, he looked forward and realized who was in front of him.

Wasn’t he in the alley?

“ Are you okay?” Seonghwa grew concerned for him. He knows nothing of what those demons did to him, but for them to cause a reaction like this from just thinking back to it.

Hongjoong finally took a deep breath and released his hold on his arms as they fell to his sides. He couldn’t find the strength to look up at him after all of that. His hand reached up to wipe away the tears that almost threatened to fall in front of the prince. It made him angry with himself.

Hongjoong didn’t want to show this man his weaknesses, but I’m guessing he couldn’t control himself as his mind had spiraled out of control. But maybe it had brought some clarification to him.

He was a human, but his aura was ‘supposedly’ evil.

Hongjoong had finally looked up at Seonghwa, who was patiently waiting for him to respond to him, “ Could aura be transferred to another person?”

Seonghwa brought up his hand to rest his chin in, “ Most of the time, beings that can control their auras usually place them on valuables or their territories, so no one bothers them. I haven’t heard of them placing their auras on other people.”

Could that explain everything? It could be the reason why it is so faint and why most people wouldn’t notice it. But again, what if he is just trying to trick him into escaping? Seonghwa doesn't think that he is that much of a fool, but he did steal from him.

Seonghwa looked back up at the man, “ When did that situation happen?”

Hongjoong ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to calm himself down slowly, “ I was 18 when it happened, and I’m 21 now.”

“ That sounds more than just aura. Do you regularly hang around such demons?” Seonghwa questioned him, watching his body finally ease itself against the wooden bed frame.

“ Demons and nonhumans never really scared me before, even after that incident. I haven’t been around any of them since I was here, but then again, some kinds hide in plain sight, and I wouldn’t know. Does aura not stay attached for that long?” Hongjoong tilted his head, and it made him look more childlike to the prince.

“ It’s unheard of as far as my knowledge, but I’ll figure that out for myself,” Seonghwa stood up from the bed and walked back to the center of the room, “ Because of my need to learn and comprehend everything, I want to figure out the mystery of this dark aura that surrounds you. You’ll be under surveillance for as long as that takes. I won’t bind you to this room and you're allowed to walk throughout the premises and you will be fed and bathed. Try and escape and I will put you down and just examine your corpse if need be. Do you understand, Kim Hongjoong?”

“ B-but what about my life outside of here? I can’t just stay here!”

Hongjoong is grateful that they aren’t killing him or taking any limbs from him, but he would rather be back in the tavern with Eden and the rest of the tavern’s patrons.

“ You should have thought about that before you committed the deeds that you did. Try if you must, but it would only result in death.” Seonghwa gave him a stern look. He knew he was serious.

Hongjoong couldn’t just run like how he did in town. This was a heavily guarded place with trained guards. He was royally screwed.

“ Oh, before I forget,” Seonghwa watched the smaller man process his words as he walked back to the door before looking over his shoulder. A grin that gave no sense of calm to Hongjoong’s nerves

“ Welcome to the Park Estate, Kim Hongjoong. I do hope you enjoy your stay.”

THREE WEEKS LATER

Several days had passed since he was invited ( very much forced) to stay in the royal family’s estate who ruled over the town he lived in.

It was honestly better than what he had initially imagined. The staff was told that he was new help, so he simply joined in with some of their duties.

With him joining with the help, he traveled throughout the massive home and had a bit of an idea of where everything was.

The left side of the estate was where the King and his family, meaning Seonghwa, lived. Some higher-up employees, such as Yeosang and some generals in charge of warriors, stayed there as well. There were some standard rooms like the study, the library, and meeting halls, but he knows nothing as far as anything else.

The center of the estate is where the main hall room was located and the kitchen and a few other rooms that he didn't know about. He only passes some of these rooms because he has to go clean some of these areas.

The right side of the estate was where he and the other staff members lived. Everyone had a bedroom, storage, and bathrooms, while some shared a common area. It was shocking to see so many staff there that were genuinely eager, let alone happy, to work for the prince and the family. Even though Hongjoong says that he can’t blame them when he bears witness to how well they are treated.

While Hongjoong truly wants to be back home with Eden, he did make friends with some of the other staff that managed to keep him hopeful and happy.

One of the friends he made was a young man named Subin. He’s been working there for a little over a year. Even though his main job is cleaning-related, he never voices any compliments and is usually in a good mood whenever he speaks. It’s always nice talking to him, and he gives him a good laugh when he needs one.

Hongjoong pretty much did a little bit of everything, even though he wasn’t supposed to. He was usually just supposed to clean a particular area that he was assigned for the day, but he would always end up helping the staff in the kitchen or tending the vast gardens. He even helped some of the warriors polish their weapons after battle and sparring.

Neither Yeosang nor Seonghwa predicted how fast Hongjoong would become well-liked at the estate, but that was just Hongjoong’s personality and friendly nature.

It was just another day Hongjoong had finished his tasks for the day and bored out of his mind. He was walking by the stained windows as he gazed outside into the town, wondering if he could see the tavern again before he heard loud giggles echoing the halls along with fast pitter-pattering of feet.

Hongjoong turned his head in the sound direction before he felt something bump into his legs and let out an ‘oof. Looking down, he saw two children, one on the floor and the other one catching up the other.

“I told you to be more careful!” The taller one yelled as the other one rubbed her nose.

Hongjoong squatted down to be her height as he tried to make sure she had no wounds or marks on her body, “ Hey, are you okay?”

The tiny child looked up at him and nodded, “ My nose hurts, but I’m okay!” She rubbed her nose before looking up at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong gave her a soft smile and also offered his hand to help her stand. The bigger child had watched Hongjoong help her up, “ Are you new?”

Hongjoong nodded as he looked at her, noticing how the younger of the two stared up at his face, “ I’m Hongjoong. What’s your name?” Hongjoong kept his tone light and friendly as the little girl smiled at him.

“ Elva!” She yelled, and it made Hongjoong giggle.

“ What a pretty name,” He looked up at the other child, “ And yours is?”

“ I’m Estel. She’s my little sister.” Estel watched her younger sister reach for him; arms stretched that had Hongjoong shocked himself. She watched him hesitantly lift the girl, and she smiled the moment that he did. Hongjoong had her body resting on her forearm.

“ Can you take us to the kitchen, please? We were on our way to get us some snacks.” Elva giggled as she waited for him to answer.

“ Well, you asked so sweetly, so how could I say no to you?” Hongjoong said as he started to turn his body before looking at the older of the two, “ Will you still be joining us?”

Estel shook her shock as she nodded as Hongjoong started to head for the stairs, Estel looping her arm when he walked. Estel watched her sister talk the man’s head off, still shocked that she trusted and got comfortable with the random man so fast in so little time.

Estel knew her sister was usually wary of any new person for a while, whether she met them or not. But this was the first time either of them had seen the man Hongjoong, yet there she was in the kind man’s arms.

Hongjoong didn’t notice the other sister’s stare as the younger talked his head off about the different foods she liked to eat, nor did he notice how some of the staff glanced at him to see the sister’s so close to him when he was barely in the castle for a month.

But they continued to walk down the stairs and made their way to the kitchen. Hongjoong used his shoulder to push the door open and peek inside, seeing a familiar face. The man turned his head after hearing the door, and he watched the man sigh.

“ What do you want now, Hongjoong?” He put down the knife he was using and stared at him.

“ Well, I missed you too Jin, but I wanted to get some snacks for myself and these two,” showing both sisters, and it made Jin widen his eyes.

“ Didn’t I give you two snacks earlier? Why are you back here, and you brought him back too.” Jin pinched the bridge of his nose as Hongjoong put Elva down.

“ Can’t we have a bit more Mr. Jin? Please?~” Elva ran over and clung to his leg.

“ If I keep giving you sweets and you fatten up, your mother and the prince will have my head!” Jin exclaimed as he rubbed his throat, and it only made her giggle.

“ We would never let him hurt you” Estel smiled as she eyed the desserts on the table that Hongjoong’s eyes also caught as he moved closer to the tray.

“ Jin, what type of dessert is this? I haven’t seen those before.” Hongjoong tore his eyes away for a split second to look at Jin with a childlike gaze.

Before Jin could speak, one of his assistants, Jaemin, came inside with an empty tray, “ Those are peach puffs.”

“They look fluffy and soft and look delicious~” Estel added as she and Hongjoong stared at each other and looked back at the tray. Elva was heading back to them, asking for Hongjoong to pick her back up, and he did.

Hongjoong knew the look that she had. It was the very same look he gave when he decided to steal from the prince.

Without a second thought, Estel snatched two puffs in her tiny hands, “ Grab one for Elva!” Estel yelled as Jin tried to run over to them.

Hongjoong hesitated for a split second before taking a puff as well and rushing out the door, hearing Jaemin’s laughter and Jin’s nagging.

“I make it up to you tonight, Mr. Jin!~” Hongjoong shouted as he followed behind the girl with her giggling as they ran. He knew Jin wasn’t going to chase him and just smack his hands when he sees him again.

They slowed down and sat down in the hall by the steps on the floor. He gave Elva her puff before placing her in his lap, smiling when she started munching on it. Estel handed Hongjoong his own, and you all ate the puffs quietly in the halls.

There was a sort of peace as you three ate the stolen food on the floor enjoying the silence as they enjoyed the sweet treat. The peaches were fresh, and the cream was fluffy. Hongjoong was enjoying his time with the sisters as his eyes were closed.

“Ddeonghwa!”

Hongjoong’s eyes opened as he watched Elva scurry out of his lap and run towards the blonde prince; his blue eyes were staring at Hongjoong, a stoic look on his face until Elva drew closer and he gave her a sweet smile.

A smile that Hongjoong didn’t know the man could take.

“ Now, what are you doing out here? Are you and Estel causing trouble? ” The prince’s voice was soft, maybe even delicate as he crouched down, opening his arms as she ran right into them.

“ We ate some peach puffs with Hongjoong!” She yells as she goes to feed the last bit of puff she had to Seonghwa, who chuckled and opened his mouth.

“ It does taste delicious.” Seonghwa smiled as Hongjoong watched with wide eyes.

Estel had gotten up as well, a big smile gracing her face as she ran over to hug him as well, “ Are you busy with duties for the rest of the day?”

“ No, I just came back from finishing my tasks for the day.” Seonghwa tucked her dark hair behind her ear as he spoke.

“ Can we go to the gardens then?” Elva asked with big doe eyes, hoping that the man would say yes.

“ Of course we can go. Would you like to go now?” Seonghwa tilted his head as she jumped up and down with excitement, a clear yes by her actions.

“ Oh! Can we bring Hongjoong with us too?” Estel asked and both Hongjoong and Seonghwa weren't expecting her to ask that. They both had looked at each other, not initially knowing how to answer it.

Hongjoong tried to help the prince as he’s stood up, “ Maybe I shouldn’t go with you all-”

“ Nooooo,” Elva runs over to him, clinging onto his leg, “ Please come with us, so can I show you the flowers there pleaseeeee.” She begged and Hongjoong felt like he couldn’t tell her no.

“ Join us, Kim Hongjoong. It’s quite hard to tell the little one no.” Seonghwa spoke, looking at him with eyes that were unreadable as Hongjoong eventually agreed.

The sisters eventually pulled both of them out towards the gardens, Seonghwa sitting on one of the benches as the sisters pulled Hongjoong around to the flowers that they found were pretty. Hongjoong stared at the white camellias and pink roses that Hongjoong found himself getting so enthralled in them as he reached out to touch them all.

Seonghwa watched from where he sat, watching Hongjoong’s movements as he noticed the childlike gaze he had just for the flowers, and Seonghwa found his face softening a bit.

They were just flowers. They weren’t too memorable or unique, but here was the tiny human being memorized by some vibrant flowers.

Seonghwa immediately found it foolish and childish in his mind, but something in the back of his mind found his reactions adorable, and the moment that it crossed his mind, he froze and shook his head back and forth to get rid of the thought.

He looked back up and realized that the sisters were pulling the man before, having him sit right beside him. He smiled at them as they told them they would get them both a surprise and ran away before either of them could say anything.

The moment the girls were far enough away from them, Seonghwa’s smile dropped, and he turned to face the shorter man, “ What ulterior motives do you have, Kim Hongjoong?”

Hongjoong giggled, his legs crossed as he leaned back onto the bench before turning to look him in the eyes, “ I was waiting for you to say something to me. I wasn’t expecting you to do it so soon, though.”

“ Answer my question.”

Seonghwa watched him roll his eyes before looking back at him, “ There’s no motive or planning. I like my life very much. Those lovely children ran into me in the halls after I finished my duties for the day. Elva asked for me to come with them to the kitchen.”

Seonghwa stared at him, nowhere near satisfied with his answer, “They don’t usually warm up to any new faces so fast. Perhaps, you used some type of magic on them.”

“ Wouldn’t such a high-ranked elf like you would have noticed any magic traces on them as you did with the tiny amount of dark energy on me?” Hongjoong raised his brow and it took everything in him not to laugh at the look on the prince's face.

It was a mix of shock and maybe a pinch of flustered as he watched him scramble to try and respond to him, his mouth opening and closing, not knowing what to say.

Hongjoong found that face more fitting on him than the stoic one he walks around with.

It makes him look younger. It made him look youthful.

It made him look cuter.

Huh?

“ I guess you're right….” The prince mumbled, not looking at him anymore

Hongjoong, being lost in his thoughts, nearly missed what he said, “ Did you just say I was right?”

“ I did,” Seonghwa answered, feeling Hongjoong lean closer to him.

“ Say it again.”

“ What?”

“ Say that I was right again.” Hongjoong pushed, moving closer to the elf, feeling their thighs touch.

“ No,” Seonghwa turned to the side. He felt the man close the distance between them again, and he was ready to yell at him when he turned his head around, but his voice died down when he noticed how close their faces were.

Hongjoong wasn’t expecting him to turn around either, and he knew the prince could see him visibly swallow as he also took note of their closeness. The last time he had his face this close to his face was when they were in his room, and he was threatening him with the sword.

But now, there were no weapons in sight. It was just the two of them, up close and personal. Hongjoong couldn’t stop his eyes from looking over the handsome face. He found himself admiring his cheekbones, the shape of his nose, and daringly eyeing his lips.

They looked pretty and soft before his eyes glanced back up to catch the pair of bright lapis staring back at him.

He was waiting for the man to yell for his staring and the lack of personal space, but it never came. He just kept eye contact with him, and Hongjoong wasn’t sure what he should do. He knew that he could see the faintest of blush coat his cheeks, and he was going to lose it.

By the gods, he was lucky to be broken from the trance as he heard the sisters yell for them as they got remotely closer to them.

Hongjoong was quick to move back to where there was a reasonable amount of distance between them, and he heard Seonghwa clear his throat and turned his head back away from him.

Hongjoong smacked his cheeks a bit before quickly putting on a smile as Elva ran over to him, her hands dirty from the soil as Estel came over with some flowers in her hands. Hongjoong picked the younger sister up and sat her on his lap, and Estel sat in between him and Seonghwa, which he was grateful for. “ What were you two up to for you both to have such dirty fingers?”

Hongjoong’s tone was light and bubbly as he took out a cloth from his pants pocket and gently took her tiny hands to clean them.

“ We found some pretty flowers and we pulled two up for you both!” She squeals as Estel hands them both a flower. It was a red Gardenia and Hongjoong brought it to his nose to smell, smiling when he did.

“ This is a beautiful flower. Thank you.” He gave them a big smile that they quickly returned, not catching Seonghwa looking at him once more with a smile that went unnoticed by the party as the children talked both of their ears off, but they didn’t mind as they sat in the gardens with them.

They both stayed there with them, idly talking and playing with the children, as they were watched from the window, their earlier interaction not going unnoticed as a brow twitched before walking away.

ONE MONTH LATER

It’s been about six weeks since Hongjoong was made to stay there in the castle, and the time he was having there was completely different from that initial week.

Especially when it came between him and the prince of the estate.

He found his eyes lingering on the prince whenever he walked past him, or he caught him after a lesson or meeting. Sometimes, he would see the prince meeting his gaze, and it would immediately make his face flash and have him quickly walk away.

He didn't know why he started to get so nervous around the elf prince, but he did. Ever since their trip to the gardens with the children, he hasn’t been able to look at him calmly.

Speaking of the sisters, Estel and Elva always tried to steal him away while he was doing his tasks for the day. Whether it was bringing in shipments from other cities to him having to clean the floors and windows thoroughly, they tried their best to steal him away.

The other workers found it amusing, never really minding if they stayed out, not as they worked since they never really caused anyone trouble, but they did find it odd how much they went to strictly Hongjoong and no one else.

Hongjoong had just managed to avoid the sisters, both feeling mischievous as they were messing with Subin before quickly asking where the small brown-haired man was.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love their company, but he just didn’t have the energy to play with them. Sadly, they didn’t give up that easily, and they were chasing him.

Hongjoong had some reasonable distance between these girls, them both giggling and smiling as they were trying to catch up. “ Hongjoong, where are you going?” Estel giggles and it took everything in him not to laugh.

He glanced around the halls, spotting a wooden door and quickly opening and shutting it silently as he pressed his ear against the door. Hongjoong heard the girls go past the door, quickly stopping when they couldn’t hear his steps or see him since it was a long hallway.

“ Where did he go?” Elva asked, confused as Hongjoong backed away from the door. He knew their hearing was better than his, so he tried his best not to make any sounds. His eyes never leaving the door until he bumped into something and a hand quickly covered over his mouth.

Hongjoong’s heart jumped into his throat as he tried to turn around and was greeted by those same hypnotizing blue eyes as he leaned to his ear, “ Say calm if you want the girls to leave.”

His voice was low and it sent a shiver down his spine, but he stayed still and quiet. He could still hear the girls talking right outside the door.

“ You think he went into here,” Elva asked, pointing to the door that indeed had Hongjoong right behind it.

“ I don’t think he did. No one is allowed in there and that includes Hongjoong,” Estel thought for a bit before the two heard a sigh. “ We lost him, Estel, so let’s go and get some snacks from Mr.Jin!”

Hongjoong heard Elva make this happy noise as she started to run off to the kitchen, Estel right on her tail as the footsteps and laughter slowly went away, and Hongjoong let out a sigh, unconsciously resting his head against his body and Seonghwa stiffened a bit.

Seonghwa stared to the top of his head, staying completely still and not knowing what to do for a minute.

Hongjoong, unknowing of him stiffening behind him, turned around to face him for a split second before looking past him, “What room is this?”

Seonghwa snapped out of it for a split second before turning around to look in his direction, “This is the castor room. This is where I study and learn new magic.”

Hongjoong walked deeper into the room, eyeing the tree and wood decor in the room, his eyes trailing to the colored glass that brought in the light that illuminated the room. Hongjoong eyes landed on the book that must have been where Seonghwa was sitting.

“So you plan on staying here, even though the young ones left you alone already?” Seonghwa walked past him as he sat back in the chair that Hongjoong was eyeing. He turned in his seat, leaning back to look at him and wait for his answer.

“ I won’t touch anything. I just want to watch you work. I finished my task for the day and I have never seen magic before, so I’m a bit curious.” Hongjoong admitted as he eyed the chair that was next to him.

Seonghwa thought it over, tempted to send him off so he could enjoy his time alone like he usually does. But glancing at the look on his face and eyes made him sigh and turned back around. “ Sit in the chair and don’t touch anything.”

Hongjoong sat in a chair, far away from Seonghwa and his work. Hongjoong eyes scanned the table and saw the books and vials that were over most of the table. His eyes were trailing up to look at the elf prince, who was focused on the text in the book.

His blonde hair pulled back this time in a ponytail, a few loose hairs as his eyes scanned over the text. His hand reached for the feather and dipped it in ink before writing some notes on his own, him noting how pretty his handwriting was as well before looking back up to his face.

Hongjoong doesn’t know how he found himself staring at his profile as he worked, despite wanting to bother him just a bit. He was just enamored with how the gods decided to sculpt such a beautiful-looking man.

He had to be honest. He found Seonghwa attractive. Yeah, he tried to kill him and take his fingers from him, but he was still hot.

Hongjoong chuckled to himself and the sound drew in Seonghwa’s attention, “ What’s so amusing over there?” He asked as he got up, grabbed some materials from a shelf, and brought them back to the table.

“ Would you prefer that I be honest?” Hongjoong asked.

“ I don’t like being lied to, so yes.”

“ I was sitting here thinking about how handsome you are.”

He almost dropped the materials in his hands.

“ Pardon?”

“ You told me to be honest and I said I was sitting here thinking about how handsome you were. Do you not know that you are handsome?” Hongjoong tilted his head, eyes glancing back at the other vials, his fingers tempted to reach out and touch them.

“It’s not that I don’t know that I have good looks, but that’s not what I was expecting to hear. But why would that have made you laugh?”

“ I thought that despite you threatening to take off any type of limbs, I couldn’t lie and say you aren’t attractive. I don’t think I can be good-looking anymore if I lose an arm.” Hongjoong smiled as he dragged his fingertips over the vials, despite being told not to touch anything.

“ A missing limb wouldn’t make you less attractive,” Seonghwa said bluntly, and Hongjoong wasn’t expecting that type of response. It made him stare at the icy blonde prince.

“ I’m sorry, what was that?”

“ I know you heard me loud and clear, but maybe those human ears of yours aren’t too good, so listen closely,” Seonghwa grabbed his collar, making Hongjoong yelp as Seonghwa ghosted his lips by the shell of Hongjoong’s ear, “ I said a missing limb wouldn’t make you less attractive, Kim Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong felt the blush cover his cheeks and a shiver run down his spine from having his voice and breath so close to him. His voice sounded more profound than usual, or was that just his mind playing with him? But this man. This prince had called him attractive and he didn't know how to react to that.

Seonghwa enjoyed the silence from the man as he let go of his collar and went back to focusing on the magic in front of him. He watched from the corner of his eye at how Hongjoong adjusted himself before getting comfortable and watching him work once more.

He enjoyed the sort of “ peace” that befell them both. It was comfortable and relaxing as the only thing Seonghwa could hear was him mixing the elixirs and potions and the glasses occasionally clinking together. But then his ear picked up on a sound that made him look over again.

He saw the tiny man with his head resting in his arms, lightly snoring. He watched his shoulders rise slowly with every breath, and tossed his hair slightly to the side.

Seonghwa marked where he was at last and closed his book before turning to face him fully. He slowly reached over and moved his hair out of his eyes. He pulled his hand back when Hongjoong moved before going still again.

Seonghwa found himself gradually leaning closer, basking in the scent that was rolling off of him. He couldn’t put his finger on it. He never had the chance to figure out what his smell was when he got close the last few times.

Seonghwa didn’t even realize how close he had gotten to Hongjoong’s sleeping face. His nose was almost brushing against him, and he didn’t fully grasp the idea that he wanted to kiss his forehead. But that sounds….wrong.

He shouldn’t desire to do such a thing, especially someone who should just be treated like a common thief. Everything in Seonghwa’s mind told him not to do it, and he knew his lips were inches away. All he had to do was inch a tiny bit forward and he would do it.

Just a tad bit closer and that’s it. Just that simple. But it still felt wrong.

It took a few seconds, but Seonghwa relaxed and looked back at the sleeping man before backing up in his seat. He knew better and he wouldn’t. Whatever urge he had will be swallowed and locked away since he knows it was wrong.

But at the very least, he petted his head and couldn’t stop the small smile as he leaned into his hand a bit.

Seonghwa enjoyed the feeling before he heard a quick knock on the door before it swung open. Seonghwa pulled his hand away fast and went back to grab his book, almost doing it in such a calm and collected manner as if he wasn’t petting the sleeping man.

Yeosang turned around and brought Seonghwa his tea with a smile before he stopped, his eyes immediately locking on the Hongjoong.

Yeosang did his best not to have his face falter as he walked over to the table, sitting the tray of fruits and tea down on a nearby table, “ I brought you some fruits and tea. I didn’t know you would have a guest, or else I would have brought another cup of tea.”

“ This wasn’t planned, but there is no need for that,” Seonghwa reached over and grabbed a strawberry and took a bite from it, letting out a tiny hum as it touched his tongue, “ But I appreciate the snacks. I was a bit famished.”

“ Then you should be eating something more filling.” Yeosang quipped, boldly stealing a grape for himself and popping it into his mouth as he saw the prince smile.

“Then do you know what is being prepared for lunch, Yeosang?.”

“ I can find out if you’d like.”

“ There’s no need for that,” Seonghwa stood up and went for another book on the shelf, “ You do enough for me as it is.”

Yeosang looked back at Hongjoong, sending the sleeping man a look that Seonghwa couldn’t see before fixing it as the prince turned around. Yeosang watched the head back to the table, seemingly comfortable with having Hongjoong stay beside him like that.

“ Yeosang, do you know what the rest of my day looks like? I didn’t meet with the King recently.” Seonghwa asked, eyes glued to the new book in his hands.

Yeosang stepped forward, on the opposite side of the table from Hongjoong, “ As far as today, you have to spar with the general and Lady Nora before dinner. Your schedule is quite free beside the event the King had planned that needs your actual attendance.”

Yeosang watched the man tsk as he looked at him, “ It is coming up, isn’t it? I don’t want to be there.”

“ I don't either, but you know we have no say for this one. You already have some attire being made; the seamstress is almost finished with that. You have the fitting tomorrow, and then the event is two days from now.” Yeosang explained as he heard another deep sigh from Seonghwa.

“ I don’t want to be in the faces of so many nobilities, especially with most of them being fools and not wanting to listen. You ask how to improve things, I tell them, and they don't listen or just resort to saying I’m a spoil and know-it-all brat that understands nothing. But if that's the case, why ask me for my input to begin with? This happens all night long, and you know this.” Seonghwa allowed himself to slip into his chair just a bit and Yeosang gave a small smile at the action.

“I’ll assist you the best way I can.” Yeosang bows slightly and Seonghwa gives a smile of his own before his head turns around when he hears a groan coming from his left. He watched Hongjoong stretch and sat up from where he was, yawning and stretching his arms. Hongjoong turned and looked over at Seonghwa before his eyes turned to look at Yeosang.

“ I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.” Hongjoong rubbed his eyes a bit and the prince thought it made him more childlike as he watched him.

“ I would have woken you up if it was a nuisance for me.” Seonghwa pointed out a comment that didn’t go unnoticed by the advisor, “ Also, while I’m thinking of it, there is an event that will be happening in two days, and you will also have to attend.

“Why?” He wasn’t expecting both Hongjoong and Yeosang to say it at the same time.

“ Only you and I know the real reason why Kim Hongjoong is in this castle, but to others, he is a mere worker. Just like the rest of them, he will be working and most likely be a server to the guests.” Seonghwa pointed out and Yeosang got quiet. Choose to say no.

Hongjoong knew he was right, and he didn't have a choice to say no in this type of situation. “I’ll do my best during this event.”

“ I expect you to.”

TWO DAYS LATER

“Never knew you could clean up so well, Hongjoong. Almost didn’t recognize you.” Subin teased, adjusting his clothes as he smiled at him.

The two of you had spent the day together getting everything ready for the event that’s happening tonight. You expected not to see the Prince and his advisor until the evening, and so far, you’ve been correct. After all the necessary preparations, the workers were all told to change and hurry back before the guest arrived.

Hongjoong eyed himself in the large mirror, admiring his appearance. He never dressed in something like this before, primarily to him not being able to afford something like this. He was dressed in white. A long-sleeved flint-colored top that was buttoned as that top before split down the center passed his belly button and stopped at his knees with delicate gold details that could go unnoticed. White pants that were a bit scrunched at the ankle due to his height, but nothing too bad to where he would walk on them. A high necked vested jacket latched at the top before flowing down and stopping at his thighs. The latch was gold, the edges of the material, and some white and gold shoes to match.

It was pretty simple in appearance, but it indeed was the fanciest thing he had worn. Subin was wearing the same color scheme but was designed differently. “ So funny, now let’s hurry up because we have to go back.”

“ Do you remember how to get there?”

“ No, not at all, so hurry up so you can show me how to get there.” Hongjoong laughed with Subin as they walked out of the room, following other staff that had to work.

If Hongjoong was honest with himself, he didn’t want to help any rich and stuck-up assholes tonight, but he knows he can’t say that out loud. Luckily, Subin would be there with him to brighten the mood.

Jin told them to station a table on the end, and you two were happy to be stuck together.

You both watched how quickly the hall filled up, countless demons, monsters, and humans all dressed in the finest of silks and fabrics to impress each other, and it took everything in Hongjoong to not roll his eyes. He believes that they might get stuck in his head if he did so.

But he did what he was told along with Subin, serving any and everyone that approached their tables. He was a bit shocked when some thanked them but wasn’t surprised by the judging looks he did receive.

Hongjoong found himself getting tired fast, having Subin kick his shin once in and while to keep him up. But soon enough, that kick felt like nothing.

“ Hongjoong, wake up! The prince has arrived!” Subin whispered yell as they both turned towards the more oversized doors.

Hongjoong straightened up and had his eyes glued as he finally got his first look at the King and Queen, Seonghwa’s parents. His father gave off a regal aura; His hair flowed down to his mid-back. He was dressed in black, white, and gold. Hongjoong could see some of the finest jewels adorning his neck apart from his attire.

His eyes went to Seonghwa’s mother and she must have been the most elegant woman he has ever seen, dressed in layers of silk and expensive fabrics that flowed around her beautifully. Her beautiful headdress and intricate hairstyle made her shine like an actual jewel.

But then his eyes landed on the prince, and it felt like his breath got caught in his throat. He was adorned in all black, a great contrast to his pale skin and blonde hair. His attire was flowy as well, similar to his mother’s. As he saw them walk past, he noticed embroidery of dragons on the sleeves and along the collar and hem of his clothes.

His eyes followed him as he walked behind his parents, having Subin smack his arm once more to gain his attention once he noticed some guests walk to their table. But no matter how many times Subin had to slap his arm, he found his eyes going back to Seonghwa.

Maybe it’s because admiring the prince’s beauty made him focus enough to stay up now after seeing countless forgettable faces. But then it became something more familiar when he noticed Yeosang heading to the table.

His pants were plain and straightforward and just white in color. He was dressed in this black vest with a high collar. The seams are traced in white trim, and wearing black and gold cuffs on his wrists. This other piece was a fabric matching his shirt and had a white border and some gold.

“ Mr.Kang, I wasn’t expecting you to come by,” Subin said with a smile, and Hongjoong watched the corners of Yeosang’s lips curve upwards.

“ It’s good to see you as well, Subin.” Yeosang turned his head to look at Hongjoong, and he noticed a slight change in his gaze, “ Nice to see you too, Hongjoong.”

“Anything that you would like?” Hongjoong asked him as Yeosang’s eyes scanned over the array of foods, leaning over to look at it all before standing up once more.

“ I’ll come back later since I’m not quite hungry yet. I plan on seeing you two later then, so make sure you two enjoy yourselves later on.” Yeosang told them before heading off just as quickly as he arrived.

Subin was distracted for a split second when another guest missed the quick change in Yeosang’s face. His eyes narrowed, a frown on his lips before turning his head once more to head back to Seonghwa.

Hongjoong found it odd. He knew the advisor wasn’t fond of him and would prefer if he was dead, but the look in his eyes this time seemed more intense than before.

He just pushed it to the back of his head before he felt Subin smack his arm once more, this time to get his attention as Jin arrived. “

“ You both are done for now. Eat and relax. Just don’t cause any trouble for me, or I’ll have your head. “ He threatened before pushing both of them away, Hongjoong laughing a bit.

“ Now you know you would mourn my death. I’m quite fun to be around.” Hongjoong joked as Jin kicked his ankle as they both stumbled away laughing.

Hongjoong and Subin had made their way to some of the other workers that were switched out to eat. It was away from the more high-status guests, but Hongjoong preferred that.

He has fun and enjoys his time with them. Maybe it’s because this was something that he wished he could have back in his hometown with Ava. Perhaps he’ll get some money and get her to visit.

He knows that’s not a realistic plan, but he could dream.

“ Did he zone out? Oi Hongjoong!”

Hongjoong looked up and realized that Eric, one of the other coworkers that he has made friends with, was calling him. “Hm? What is it?”

“Did you hear anything that I just said?” The younger asked and Hongjoong gave a sheepish laugh before saying no. The boy rolled his eyes before giving him a look.

“ I said that soon with have to go from table to table and collect and dishes and trash from them,” Eric explained, and Hongjoong couldn’t stop the look that appeared on his face.

“ Why can’t they get rid of their trash?” The words flew from his lips quicker than necessary.

“ Look, it's a party for the rich and they are all guests of the family. They aren’t supposed to lift a finger for anything as trivial as cleaning up after themselves.” Eric says sarcastically, a grin on his face as he ate more food, “ You knew what you were getting into when hired here, Hongjoong, so don’t get stupid now.”

“ Aren’t I older than you? Who are you calling stupid?” Hongjoong brow raised and gave him a look that Eric wasn’t fazed by.

“ If you know you aren’t stupid, don’t get offended by it. But seriously, Jin or someone higher up will have your head if you're disrespectful to them. So even if they do something, bite your tongue.” Eric gives him an honest look and Hongjoong huffed.

Subin pats his shoulder, “ It should be fast since most of us are doing that, so don’t worry too much. Okay.” Subin gave a dimpled smile and Hongjoong let out a small smile of his own.

He enjoys this. Bickering and smiling with each other felt very on end and it’s a bit bittersweet that it’s with people that he just met and not his parents. Well, with his mother, yes, but it would be nice if his father were included in that as well.

Before he knew it, they were all splitting up which tables they were going to and grabbed some carts before heading off.

Hongjoong took a deep breath before putting on a fake smile and approached the first table. His greeting was friendly and respectful as he asked if anyone was done with their plates. Some raised their hands and he came over and collected everything that they were finished with. He made sure not to make eye contact with them despite a few leering into the side of his head.

Hongjoong was quick to bow before leaving and dropping his smile the moment he was gone. He nearly mumbled something under his breath before remembering that no humans were sitting at these tables.

So Hongjoong continued this pattern with a fake smile, cleaning and leaving until he reached this last table. He could tell that he was an elf by the pointed ears, and the man was sitting there all alone.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you finished with your food? I'm here to collect your dirty dishes if so.”

The man tilted his head up and gave a light smile, “ Don’t your cheeks hurt from smiling like that? I gave you no reason to smile and neither did those other snot-nosed nobles. Relax and treat me like normal.”

“ I’m sorry, but I-”

“ I may be a royal, but I'm nobody to them. I would rather be treated regularly than a noble,” He turned in his seat before putting his dirty plate on himself as Hongjoong just stared at him, “ I didn’t catch your name. What is it?”

He shook his head as he looked at him, “ my name is Hongjoong.”

“ Hongjoong. That’s a different name, but I like it. I’m Prince Gerold, but I don’t need any formalities. Gerold is just fine.”

“ How could you tell that my smile was fake?” Hongjoong asked, stepping a bit closer to the man.

“ Cause you gave the same type of smiles that I do.” He rested his head in his hand as he glanced back to Hongjoong, “ Please sit, or you can’t waste any time chit-chatting with me?”

“ Well, I’m not supposed to do anything that would upset the ‘royals,’ but since I’m not upsetting you, it should be fine.” Hongjoong watched the smile grow a bit bigger on his face.

“ Well, then let’s sit and chat only for a little while. Maybe this event won’t be as boring as anticipated.”

༄༄༄

Seonghwa was tired.

He was ready to call it a night the moment he stepped into the grand room. But of course, being the son of the current king kept him occupied and busy.

He had to answer to some neighboring townships as well, as they praised him with cheers about what a great king he’ll be, and by the gods, was Seonghwa tired of the repetition.

There were questions on what he would do once his father steps down and how many children of his own he plans to have or if he has selected a queen.

Soon to Seonghwa ear’s, their voices became inaudible and would only pick up a few words that would remind him of what the bloody hell they were talking about.

While some of the guests started to talk to themselves, Seonghwa’s eyes swelled across the crowd as he was quick to stop once he saw a familiar brown hair at a table.

He watched him talk to one of the nobles. It didn’t seem like it was anything terrible because Hongjoong looked utterly relaxed.

But the more he stared, the more he realized that he looked a tad bit too relaxed.

He was able to see how close they were to each other as they talked about whatever. He could see the other person putting his arm on the back of Hongjoong’s chair and give a grin.

He couldn’t read their lips, but he did know that something had made Hongjoong laugh, and the smile was genuine. It made his heart jump a tad bit before remembering that it wasn’t directed towards him. It was someone that he just met and made him smile big like that.

Fascinating.

“ Prince Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa turned back to look at the guests in front of him, “ Yes, what is it?”

They pointed to the glass in his hand, and his eyes followed suit and noticed how tight his grip was on the glass. It caught him off guard cause he never saw his grip tightening. He placed the tall glass down on the table.

“ Are you okay, Prince Seonghwa? Did we say something to upset you?” Seonghwa could see the concern on their face and he snapped out of the slight haze he was in.

“No, it wasn’t you. However, I do have some business that I need to handle. Please enjoy this event to the fullest.” The prince gave a slight bow and smiled before quickly heading off, his feet with a mind of his own.

༄༄༄

Maybe nobles weren’t all too bad.

Hongjoong knew he was supposed to be working, but he couldn’t find himself getting up and ending this conversation. Prince Gerold had a charm about him that just made him stay. Maybe it’s because he was somewhat of an outcast among the nobles and he just seems a bit more humble in a sense.

He found himself smiling and laughing as they talked, not noticing how close the man had gotten or how friendly they would look to any guests. He was just hoping that he wouldn’t get into too much trouble.

“ Hongjoong, can I asked you something?” Prince Gerold tilted his head as he looked at him.

“ Of course. What is it?”

“ Would you like to leave this party? It’s not quite as interesting as you.” Prince Gerold grinned.

Hongjoong wasn’t expecting him to ask such a question. He wouldn’t mind being with him a bit longer, but he knows very well that if he leaves after all this, he might get killed by Jin. or even worse. Get killed by Yeosang.

“ Oh, I don’t think I can. I’m supposed to be working right now, to begin with, so if I leave, I’ll get in tro-” Hongjoong breath hitched when he was pulled a bit closer to him by his chair, catching him off guard.

“ Come on~ We could walk through the city or the gardens and just have a good time. You don’t wanna spend that time with me?” Prince Gerold’s smile was sweet, but maybe it felt a little too sweet that made Hongjoong want to leave, but he couldn’t. It felt like his legs were made of steel.

“ B-but I have to-”

“ I thought we were having fun together. Just for a little bit. I promise to bring you back before this shit of a party is.” Prince Gerold grabbed his hand gently, a complete opposite from the tone, despite being laced with sweet words. His thumb rubbed over his knuckles before bringing his hand to his mouth. He placed tender kisses on each one. Hongjoong wanted to pull his arm away, walk away and deal with all forms of scolding from Subin and Jin, then stay here. Even though he thought that he couldn’t move. Was it fear? Was he scared again? He just wanted to leave.

“Let’s go. I’ll sneak you out to avoid any trouble.”

“Well, it’s a bit too late for that now, is it?” Hongjoong watched how quickly his eyes looked up and passed him, and despite still not being able to move, he knew who was behind him. He knew that voice well enough.

“Ah, Prince Seonghwa. A great party you have here. Not my cup of tea, though, so I planned to leave here with this lovely muse, so if you don’t mind.” Prince Gerold stood up, still holding Hongjoong’s hand. He wasn’t expecting to stand up with such ease when he struggled to do it with his willpower. Hongjoong finally glanced over at Seonghwa as Prince Gerold tries to walk past him.

Hongjoong felt his shoulder get gripped on, and it felt like lightning struck him the moment the elf prince touched him. It made his ears ring, then his spine tingled, and his toes curl before he was finally able to pull his arm away. He faced Seonghwa in shock, but his gaze was rigid set on the other prince in front of him.

“ You went out of your way to compel him? You lured him in with such a fake smile and tried to snatch him off somewhere else. Truly pathetic.” Seonghwa's voice was cold, and he enjoyed the way his lip twitched as he spoke to him, “ You have some nerve bothering my workers.”

“ Now you're saying that as if you care about all of your workers.” He smirks as he crossed his arms.

“ Why wouldn’t I? Their hard work made this event as successful as it is. I owe them all some proper gratitude for their efforts, and it’s just a shame that they still have to deal with something as rotten as you.” Seonghwa stepped forward, right in front of Hongjoong and gave him such a cold glare that made the smirk fall from his face and replaced with a scowl.

“ You watch who you're talking to!” He growled out and Seonghwa laughed in his face.

“ Oh, and what would you do? Did you forget that part of the land that your father owns was a gracious gift from us? Did you forget how much we helped you and your father get to where you are? We hand-fed you everything, and it would be just as easy to make you starve. Be foolish enough to doubt my bluff, and I will personally ruin you. You need us. We don’t need you.” Seonghwa’s aura crackled, and it made the other Prince step back even more from them.

“All of this fuss and threats over one of the hundreds of workers?!”

“ For your information, I hand-picked this one, so yes. Now I suggest you leave like previously intended,” Seonghwa grabbed Hongjoong’s rest and started to walk away. Hongjoong turned around to at him before Seonghwa’s voice cut through the air, “ Don’t look at him.”

Seonghwa walked fast and scouted the area before stepping up to Subin and tapping his shoulder. Subin turned around and nearly dropped the plates he had in his hands. “ Prince Seonghwa! W-what can I do for you?”

“ Take care of the rest of Hongjoong’s work if you don’t mind. I need him for something else more important.” It was then that Subin noticed Hongjoong behind him, and it looked like Subin was trying to get a sense from him about what happened, but Hongjoong sheepishly looked away.

“ Of course! I’ll get right on it.” Subin bows before heading past them and Seonghwa continues to pull Hongjoong out and out the doors, not going unnoticed by the prince’s advisors as he gives a sharp gaze with furrowed brows.

Once Hongjoong believes that they were far enough from anyone, he spoke up, “ Seonghwa, where are we going?….”

“ Just wait. We're almost there.” Seonghwa gave a short response as he guided them through halls that Hongjoong had never been down before; he opened a door and pulled them both inside before shutting the door. That’s when Seonghwa finally let go of his wrist and slumped against the door.

Hongjoong watched how the prince’s back and shoulders slouched before looking up at him. “ Are you okay?”

Seonghwa made a small smile, “ I should be asking you that. A nonhuman just compelled you. The longer you stayed there, the more control he would have had on you.”

Hongjoong looked at his hands and legs, moving them slightly, “ I thought it was fear again. I thought I was that scared and couldn’t move. Not because of magic.”

Hongjoong missed the soft look he gave him as he stayed by the door, “ No. It was magic that a good variety of nonhumans know. If you can use magic or have any items to help you comply, it is quite easy to do. Humans usually fall prey to it naturally. Folks of magic sense other magic, so it would never have worked.”

Hongjoong gave a tiny smile, “ That’s good to know, but that just reminds me of how much weaker I am to everything.”

Seonghwa pushed himself off the door and stood in front of him, “Humans can learn magic too if they practice hard enough. The only way you can stop being weak is if you put the time and effort into being strong. You don’t just need to be physically stronger to beat someone. There are other ways, and I'm sure you would be capable of it.”

Hongjoong looked up at his eyes and let out a laugh, “ Who would have thought that your words would give me some comfort,” Hongjoong rubbed the back up his neck and stared at the ground, “ Thank you.”

“ There’s no need to thank me.”

“ Yes, there is. I found myself in some trouble and I was lucky enough that you were there to help me. I’m sorry for causing trouble and making you leave the party. I’ll—I’ll take whatever lecture or punishment for everything.” Hongjoong stared at his hands.

It could have gone a completely different way and Hongjoong didn’t even want to think what would happen if no one came over to stop him.

“ I was forced to attend this party. I’m the next in line to the throne, so of course, I had to be there. I would have rather hid than talked the same nonsense with all of those guests. And did you think I dragged you all the way here just to lecture you?” Seonghwa raised a brow as he gave him an amused look.

Hongjoong looked back with a confused look, “ Then why did you drag me here? Was it just a chance for you to get away from this event?”

Seonghwa walked past him and headed towards the window, the moon illuminating his skin in hair and almost making him glow, “ Maybe you do have some magic because I don’t know why, but you have been compelling me all on your own.”

Hongjoong slowly walked towards him but kept some distance, “ What does that even mean? Whatever you have to say, just say it.”

Seonghwa never turned around, “ I’ve developed some feelings for you.”

It was silent. No sound was made as they both stood in the same spot. Seonghwa expected this type of reaction and silence, so it took the silence to elaborate more.

“ I don’t know when it started, but I can be honest enough to say that I have developed some type of feelings for you. Maybe it started when I watched how caring and nurturing you were with Estal and Elva and how much they genuinely adored you. I was worried about you manipulating them, but they seem smitten with you. Most people don’t like them because of their mother, but they’re innocent in that matter.”

Hongjoong quietly walked over as Seonghwa continued to talk, just listening to the words that came out of his mouth.

“ Then I started to notice the little reactions and thoughts I would have about you. I didn’t think I could do it after stopping the last time I had feelings for someone. But then you came along, stealing from me in broad daylight and slowly stealing away my heart before I even knew it.” Seonghwa turned slightly to see Hongjoong just a couple of inches behind him.

The prince turned to face him, “ I came over there not because I knew you were in danger. I originally came over there cause my heart couldn’t stand the image of you smiling at someone else. I nearly shattered a glass when it ran through my mind. Like I couldn’t allow it and that’s out of character for me.”

Seonghwa could sense it. His honesty was overwhelming Hongjoong and that’s not what he wanted at all. He could feel and see how tense he was as he stood there.

“ I’m not asking you to recuperate my feelings. I threatened you into staying here and I can’t blame you for hating me. I…I just wanted to get these words off my chest. Don’t feel inclined to return them. You have my word on that.”

Hongjoong finally looked up at him, “ I don’t hate you.”

“ You don’t?”

“ I don’t. Everything you did was logical, especially after what I’ve done. I just don’t know how to take someone saying they ‘care’ for me.” Hongjoong walked towards the window, looking out at the moon-casted town as Seonghwa watched him.

“ Did you not come from a loving home?” Seonghwa asked as he saw Hongjoong frowned at first before giving a smile.

Hongjoong pressed his hand to the glass, “ In the end, my mother cared the most about just one other person and me. So in a sense, yes, I did. But I’ve never had someone admit having feelings for me. I just don’t know how to respond.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” Seonghwa gently placed a hand on his shoulder and was happy that he didn’t tense up from it.

“ You sure?”

“ I swear on it.”

Hongjoong turned around to face him. They both stared down at each other, but Seonghwa’s eyes glanced down to his lips before forcing himself to look away, “ What is it?”

Seonghwa shook his head, “ I don’t want to ask that of you. I can’t ask that from you.” He was speaking more to himself and was about to ramble until Hongjoong gripped his chin and made him look back at him.

“ What did you want to ask me?” Hongjoong’s voice was as firm as it could be as he looked up into those ocean eyes of his.

Seonghwa stares for a while longer before letting out a sigh, “ Can I kiss you?”

Hongjoong was hesitant as he twiddled with his thumbs, “ I haven’t kissed anyone before...”

“ Then maybe you shouldn’t waste that on me. I just wanted to ask.” Seonghwa turned around and started heading towards the door, “ You can stay here until the party ends. I must head back to-”

“ It wouldn’t be a waste….” Hongjoong shifted on his heels

Seonghwa stopped, “ That’s not a yes. I’m no creep. I won’t do anything to you unless you give me a solid yes.”

“ That’s embarrassing for me to say!”

“ Embarrassing to want consent?” Seonghwa raised a blonde brow and Hongjoong grew quiet. He took the silence as an answer and as his hand reached the doorknob.

“Please!”

Seonghwa looked back at the man and noticed the faint blush on his face.

“ You...you can kiss me.”

Hongjoong listens to Seonghwa’s footsteps as he walked towards him again. “ Look at me.” He heard Seonghwa’s voice as he slowly looked up at him. “ Are you sure about this?”

Hongjoong hasn’t felt this nervous before. He wasn’t being pressured into anything. He had complete and utter control of this situation, and as much as he was worried about this, he found himself wanting it as well. “ I am, but you might have to guide me.”

Seonghwa gently tilts his face up and Hongjoong’s eyes looked up at him, “ You can tell me to stop at any time.”

Hongjoong nodded as Seonghwa slowly closed the distance between them. His eyes fluttered close when he felt his breath against his lips. He knew he could probably hear his heart pound. Seonghwa stroked his cheek with his thumb as his lips pressed to his.

His lips were soft against his. Hongjoong felt himself relax as Seonghwa pulled back slightly, opening his own eyes, and found Seonghwa staring back at him. They were quiet as they looked back at each other before Hongjoong leaned forward and Seonghwa leaned back in to kiss him again.

Seonghwa moved his lips slowly, so Hongjoong could learn how to kiss. Hongjoong tried his best to follow him, steadily getting better as Seonghwa cupped his face. Hongjoong found himself slowly reaching up to grip his shoulders. He relaxed more as he started to kiss him with a bit more force, catching Seonghwa off guard a bit.

He pulled away to look at Hongjoong, panting a bit as before speaking, “ Maybe...that’s enough for now.”

“ B-but…”

“ I’m afraid that I’ll do something more if we keep going, so let’s not continue this.” Seonghwa put some more space in between the two.

“ I want to keep going, though.” Hongjoong found a small amount of confidence as he looked at him and Seonghwa gave him an unreadable look.

“ Don’t say something like that to me. I’m trying to have some self-control. Don’t do this because of me admitting my feelings. What you're doing is more than enough. Don’t feel pressured to do anything with me.” Seonghwa's voice was harsh sounding, but Hongjoong wasn’t offended by it.

“ I’m not asking you to have self-control. I want more too. I’m not pressured. I feel comfortable and relaxed right now. I have the confidence right now to say this out loud, so don’t let it go to waste.” Hongjoong stared at him with flushed cheeks before slowly walking to the bed and sitting on it, “ I’ll tell you to stop if I have to. Just make sure your self-control is as good as you say it is.”

Seonghwa gave him a look before walking to him, standing in front of him, slowly pushing his body down on the bed and hovering above. Seonghwa could see how relaxed he was and could sense how confident he was in his choices right now. He feels hesitant, despite Hongjoong giving him all the consent he would need. His fingers flexed beside his head, and now he felt his heart pound. It was only when Hongjoong gently grabbed his wrist, forcing him to look at him.

“ It’s alright. I told you it’s okay. Don’t chicken out on me now, or I’ll feel silly about all this.” Hongjoong gave him an awkward chuckle as he reached to cup his face and brings him closer to him.

Seonghwa closed his eyes for a split second before looking back at him with a soft smile, “ Don’t go regretting this in the morning, Kim Hongjoong.”

༄༄༄

Tagging: @atiny-piratequeen @gettin-a-lil-hanse @queen-of-himbos @jacksons-goddess-gaia @kimnamshiks

༄༄༄

©atiny-dazzlinglight 2021. do not repost, translate, or use my works without permission

[amaterasususanno]

WangXian - How the siege could (should) have ended

Disclaimer: I do not own the copyrights of Mo dao zu shi/the untamed. All rights reserved by their respective owner

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Summary:

Wei Ying cares for the Wen remnants. He desires to protect them.

The world wants Wei Ying and the Wen's gone.

In consequence: The siege could never have been avoided.

But: Wei Ying's story could still have been another one.

Rating: M [To be safe]

Status: Complete

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31961272/chapters/79156201

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Since the day Wei Ying had confronted the different sects as they had planned his demise, the dark energy swirling around burial mount had grown several times heavier and harder to control – even though it had only been a few weeks.

Even Wei Ying himself could nearly not stand it anymore.

He kept seeing heart wrenching visions and haunting nightmares. His ears were filled with the wails of the dead. He could hear them pleading him to spare their lives. He could hear them cursing his name. He could even hear their blood rushing out of their bodies as the corpses he commanded ripped them to shreds.

Whenever he closed his eyes, he would see the murders he chose to commit – his acts as ‘war hero’ during the sunshot campaign, like the torturing and murder of worthless men like Wen Chao – and those he failed to prevent himself from causing – the murder of Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli and probably half of all his later kills, to be honest.

Only now did he understand that he had started to lose his senses somewhere along the path he had chosen.

He had believed to be in control of everything, but looking back, maybe he had already started going insane when he was first thrown into the abyss of the burial mount. He had just always been held back somewhere along the borders of being a genius before he could turn into a full-blown madman.

But now? What was there to ground him?

The sunshot campaign was over, Jiang Cheng wanted him dead just like everyone else, his shijie was dead – she had been slaughtered to save him and the people who had looked at him with admiration and called him the greatest war hero of the sunshot campaign, had all turned their backs on him now that they had started to fear his power. Even Wen Qing was gone, and Wen Ning had even died a second death.

And Wei Ying himself had lost all will to make the world understand, that he would not threaten them as long as they didn’t cross him.

Especially since they already gone ahead and crossed him anyway. After all they had dared to lay hands on the Wen-siblings, who had been innocent of all of Wen Rouhans’ crimes. They had even dared to continue trying to fault him for anything that went wrong anywhere – even though he and the Wens were only trying to live a peaceful life amongst themselves.

Besides, it was not like anyone would listen to him at this point of time anyway – after all he had killed a few thousands of cultivators a few weeks back.

And maybe the truth was simply cruel as life itself: A choice had to be made – there would be either the rest of the cultivation world or him. They didn’t want to live besides him. He couldn’t live besides them any longer either.

The hatred inside him had grown to strong – it overpowered all of his senses. It was numbing him, tempting him to do all the wrong things. No, at this rate he would just end up ending all of these cultivators miserable lives.

Wei Ying rose from his bed inside the demon slaughtering cave. He needed to get the rest of the Wens away from here. He needed to at least protect them from whatever war would follow between the world and himself.

Especially considering the fact that either the major sects would come here and try to kill him – taking the Wens down along with him even though they were only weakened people – or he himself would do something stupid and would end up endangering them, dragging them down to hell with him.

As he moved towards the mouth of the cave, Wei Ying found himself stumbling more than he was walking.

His head was full of noises again. His vision was dulled, the resentful energy gripped at his heart and mind. He could feel everything clouding up again.

Maybe the stygian tiger seal was partly at fault for that. It kept attracting the dark clouds around him even though he long since couldn’t deal with them anymore.

Maybe he had really created a weapon that no one should possess – him included.

Maybe Lan Zhan had been right. With everything. Maybe he should have listened to him. But then again, he hadn’t had a choice. He didn’t have a golden core anymore. He could only walk this narrow path in the darkness now – he could only rely on the dead and their hatred.

He had forfeited his humanity when he refused to die inside burial mount.

There was a saying befitting og this. And for him it had most definitely become true. ‘You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain’.

“Are you ok?”

Wei Ying looked up, his gaze found a strange red blotch of color in front of him. He blinked, trying to focus his eyes, trying to figure out who was standing on front of him.

But right now, couldn’t even identify the speakers voice – and suddenly panic kicked in. This could be an enemy!

Quickly reaching for Chenquin, all his senses kicked into an alarmed state of needing to kill the threat. He could feel the resentful energy bundling around the flute – and usually his targets fear would join the hatred he accumulated through his technique.

But right now, there was no fear. Who in their right mind could be stupid enough not to fear him? While he was off-guard due to shock, he felt something colliding with his right leg. A very familiar weight.

“A-Yuan?”

Suddenly his mind cleared again, his eyes free of whatever fog had blocked them before, his ears no longer filled with cries and death wishes directed at him.

Quickly looking at whomever he had nearly killed off, he saw granny Wen. His stomach churned. How could he have mistaken her for a threat? Especially when her lack of fear symbolized just how much trust she had in him, how strongly she believed he would not harm her.

“Sister, granny said I should come to you! She said you were looking out of it ever since you returned here!”

Looking down at the brightly smiling child twisted Wei Yings insides around even more. He quickly put Chenquin away, pushing his guild to the back of his mind so he could pick A-Yuan up, cuddling him close – already regretting having to send him far away to protect him.

“Is that so? What else did Granny say? Did she tell you how I returned?”

Trying to smile and not show that he did not at all remember his returning here, Wei Ying cast a short glance in the direction of granny Wen.

She smiled meekly, then uttered a sudden – and obviously fake – complaint about her back hurting and left.

Wait, what had she told the kid?

“She said you walked here looking like your soul had been sucked out! And you kept mumbling about random things like revenge, wanting to burn the world to the ground, oh and you talked about brother rich!”

The happy way the child chatted about all this made it obvious that he didn’t understand a single word of all that.

In fact A-Yuan seemed to only care about his dear ‘brother rich’, he nearly immediatly went over to telling Wei Ying just how much he wanted to see ‘brother rich’ again.

But Wei Ying didn’t listen anymore. He understood why he had been talking about the end of the world, or better yet: his wish to be that cause of the said event, but why would he talk about Lan Zhan?

Trying to think back on whatever may have made him talk about Lan Zhan, he remembered only bits and pieces of certain scenes.

Lan Zhan had stood among the rows of people discussing how to kill him – so Lan Zhan must want him to perish. Seemingly punishing Wei Ying by taking him back to Gusu was no longer enough to satisfy the man.

The ugly feeling of an all-consuming hatred boiled up inside Wei Ying. Why did Lan Zhan have to be this way? He had already wanted to punish Wei Ying when everyone else had still praised him. And now that everyone wanted him dead, even that overly honorable white marble statue of a man, decided killing him would be better than punishing him? And that even though the Gusu Lan Sect forbade killing?

But of course there would be exceptions. What a hypocrite!

“-mother and father.”

A-Yuans laughter ripped Wei Ying out of his thoughts. He had to blink a few times to progress what the child had just said.

“A-Yuan- what was that just now?”

The boy smiled even broader and ripped his small hands into the air, elated as he started to talk again – not at all minding that Wei Ying had seemingly not listened.

“Granny said you and brother rich had a special relationship! She always said you are happier whenever he is around – you will smile a lot more than usually. So I thought you must like brother rich just as much as me and that is why he should visit us more often!”

Still not comprehending what that had to do with the whole mother/father thing, Wie Ying shifted A-Yuans weight onto only one of his arms, so he could poke his nose with the other.

“Don’t talk such nonsense little radish. I am always a happy person, that has nothing to do with Lan Zhan. Besides, this has nothing to do with what you said before anyway, does it?”

A-Yuan scrunched his nose up, looking like a cute little bunny – especially when he went over to covering up his nose with his little hands – all in order to protect it from future assaults.

“It does! Granny said you liked brother rich like a mommy likes a daddy!”

Wei Yings teasing fingers, which had tried to catch A-Quan off guard and poke him again, froze in midair.

Wei Yings entire face fell and went pale.

What had A-Yuan just said? And why would granny Wen even tell such things to a child? What kind of old-people-joke was this?

Lan Zhan had never even just liked him, he even wanted him dead now!

So how could Wei Ying feel anything else than the desire to defeat Lan Zhan and be as far away from him as possible?

“Besides, he is my father, didn’t you say so yourself?”

A-Yuan may have been nothing but a child, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t smart enough to see when he could get a jab in. After all the kid had always been cheeky. And smart enough to use anything anyone ever said against them.

“I never said that!”

Not even knowing why he was defending himself against a mere toddler, Wei Ying went over to displaying a complete denial.

While he did so, a scene popped into his head.

Lan Zhan was walking through the village at the foot of burial mount with them. He was buying toys for A-Yuan – which earned him the nickname ‘brother rich’ from the child.

At some point A-Yuan had been hungry and-

Wei Yings memory flashed back to how he had found Lan Zhan that day in the first place. A-Yuan had run off somewhere. He had run straight into Lan Zhan.

And being panicked and the little child he was, he had started wailing at the man’s feet, clinging to his cloths.

A crowd had gathered, commenting about how ‘fathers would often be overstrained with their first child’.

And that scene, combined with the later one of them strolling around and Lan Zhan showering A-Yuan with presents, had brough a careless sentence out of Wei Yings mouth.

“The one with the money is the father, the one with the milk the mother.” – And in the context from back then, this made him the mother and Lan Zhan the father as Wei Ying normally provided A-Yuan with food and Lan Zhan provided the child with toys on this particular day.

Wei Ying flushed – God, why had he said that back then? That was super embarrassing!

“You should forget that again A-Yuan. Just call him brother rich, ok?” Wei Ying laughed it off, feeling a bit awkward. Looking back he was actually surprised Lan Zhan had taken all that so well back then. After all with his typical Lan-wits he probably hadn’t taken as long as Wei Ying to understand what his careless words had implied. The man really seemed to have a frightening self-control.

“Does that mean I should call you brother poor?”

The child had definitely seen Wei Ying losing control of the situation. And seemingly Wei Yings mischievousness and insolence had straight off been absorbed by the child.

“Just continue calling me brother. That is enough. And no, before you start calling me brother poor again, call me mommy. At least that gives me the image of someone pretty.”

Being jokingly diplomatic, Wei Ying shook his head, offhandedly noting how his conversation with A-Yuan, even though it most certainly had been a strange one, had somehow given him so much normality that his inner demons for once weren’t to be heard or seen.

Wei Ying smiled a bit more genuinely. The power this toddler had was unbelievable. It made it nearly inhumane to think about him being somewhere completely different than at his side someday soon.

But then again, that was the only way in which the boy had a chance to live and grow into a fine – or not so fine and more troublesome if he took after him – man someday.

“Oh well, never mind. Let’s join granny and the others for now.”

What followed wasn’t exactly what Wei Ying had expected. As soon as he had brought up the topic of the Wens leaving, he was hit with a hours long storm of ‘no’s and ‘we won’t leave you behind’s. Had A-Yuan not been there, the discussion would most likely have turned into a fight.

“Wei Ying, most of us are in no condition to travel anyway.” Uncle four gave Wei Ying a shrug. “We wouldn’t make it far anyway.”

Wei Ying had wanted to disagree, but before he could open his mouth, he felt a heatwave erupting in his left sleeve.

He quickly reached inside it, pulling out a burning talisman.

His face turned dark. The defenses of burial mound had been breached.

Someone was trying to sneak in. And ‘someone’ in this case was most probably an army of cultivators.

“Leave now!” Knowing it would be too late to run now but feeling more desperate to get the Wens out of harms way than ever, he rose up, making sure to make all of the Wens understand that the mount was under siege.

“We lived on borrowed time anyway. We have no issue with dying.” Granny Wen tried to calm Wei Yings down from his frenzied state but failed.

“And what about A-Yuan! Doesn’t he deserve to live!?”

Already holding Chenquin in an iron grip, Wei Ying could feel the resentful energy flowing into his body with the intent to swallow him whole and eating him alive.

And his soul offered no resistance. He wanted the strength, that the resentful energy could give him.

He needed it.

Else the Wens would die. A-Yuan would die.

“No, you must come with us then!” A-Yuan, even though he was much too young to understand what was going on, did so anyway. It broke Wei Yings heart and at the same time gave birth to even more hatred inside his body.

How dare the renown sects act as they pleased and even traumatize a child, making it understand the cruel twists of life much sooner than nature should ever have allowed.

“I will hold them up, I will follow you afterwards.”

Even though the darkness inside of him was starting to blur the lines of reality and hallucination already, Wei Ying made a last attempt on convincing the Wens too flee.

“You will only burden me if you stay around – my abilities aren’t suited to protect, they can only destroy!”

A ringing filled Wei Yings head. He could hear the resentful energy talking to him, updating him on how fast the enemies were closing in. They seemed to be numerous, intend on trampling everything down.

Wei Ying knew they didn’t have any more time to waste.

He turned, left the Wens and rushed towards the top of the demon slaughtering caves roof.

Overlooking the situation as much as possible, he took a deep breath and pushed all the air in his lungs into his flute.

A sharp shriek erupted from the instrument.

Hundreds of corpses rose inside the mounts abysses.

The already awakened dead bodies, which hadn’t already been fighting, lunged at the enemies.

Wei Ying played an aggressive, eerie tune, knowing full well that he was forcing too much resentful energy to move around.

With his instable state of mind and most importantly: his growing self-destructive tactics, he knew all this would backfire.

He suddenly knew he would die today.

All of his restraints broke – he decided to take as many his foes with him as possible, hoping to weaken them enough to give the Wens a last chance.

He closed his eyes, gave in to the darkness, surrendering in his inner struggle, letting the darkness eat away his conscience.

No cell inside him cared about the fact that he was about to murder about an estimated another few thousands count of cultivators just to save less than fifty elderly Wens and a child.

He didn’t care about truly becoming the devil they claimed him to be.

Whatever, in that case he would die as hollowed out shell of a man. This battle would turn him into a resentful spirit, his soul would have to be subdued by destroying it since cleansing would no longer be possible. But that was fine. May they shred his body and soul apart.

He drew even more piercing tones out of his flute, patching them into an ugly version of a beautiful melody.

He could hear the metal sounds of swords and sabers cutting through corpses drawing closer – music followed right after.

It was like an awful cacophony of war.

Wei Ying closed his eyes forcefully, focusing on producing wave after wave of corpses.

Finally, he had created so many of them that he could no longer control them with just Chenquin.

In a show of pure insanity, he fished for the two separated parts of the stygian tiger seal and put them together.

The resulting shockwave of dark energy blew even him off of his spot. He tumbled downwards, crashing down into the dirt, all air was knocked out of him. He tried to regain composure, but the seal was way too powerful.

He could feel the corpses breaking free from their reigns, he lost his control over them in a lapse.

Horror-filled screams filled the air.

The corpses now attacked everything in their way – may it be an enemy or another corpse.

Realising this, common sense suddenly kicked right into Wei Yings gut. The Wens! They wouldn’t be safe with the corpses going rouge!

Just like he had struggled back then – when his sister had run onto the battlefield in hopes of stopping him – he fought to get the corpses to calm down.

He fought to get back onto his feat, fought to clear his mind enough to overpower the resentment in himself, fought to fish out the full potential inside him to revoke whatever hell he had summoned forth.

But there was only one calming thing coming to his mind. A song. A song he had never seen the sheet music off. In fact, he couldn’t even remember where he had the melody from either.

But he focused on the music in his memories and started to put a few handfuls of corpses to sleep.

He needed to reduce their numbers to prevent losing control. He absolutely had to.

Then a scream ripped straight into his soul. Granny Wen.

Dread filled him.

As he rushed to where he had heard the scream coming from, he forgot all about repressing the dark energy. The seal started absorbing more and more resentment in his hand.

He could feel it starting to twist his mind.

Shortly before he could drown in whatever dark pool the seal was trying to pull him into, he was faced with the sight of Nie Mingjue towering above a split-up group of the Wen remnants. About seven of them were lying on the ground. – dead. They had not died peacefully. All of them had gruesome slashes on their bodies. Blood pooled around them, coloring the dark earth of the burial mount crimson like the blood pool.

Rage blinded Wei Ying, his inner pain killing his sanity.

He used the stygian tiger seal.

The Wens peoples corpses rose up – attacking the Nie sect leader.

Wei Yings insanity didn’t allow him to see whatever happened to the other Wens, he could only hear that voice inside his head.

Demanding him to kill everyone who stood against him.

And he gave in, commanding all corpses to go on a bloodly murder spree.

Letting the seal take over, then letting the corpses go loose, he rushed straight at Nie Mingjue, kicking him down onto the ground.

Never had he missed his sword this much. He wanted to slit the man’s throat and let him bleed out more than anything else. He wanted him to face the pain of a sword like he had made the Wens face his saber.

But since he couldn’t fight with a sword anymore and didn’t have it on himself either, he decided to go another path – one for which he did not need a golden core.

With his free hand he grasped for sect leader Nies face, pouring an endless stream of dark energy into the man’s body.

He could Feel Nie Mingjues golden core growing corrupt inside the his body as he went into qi deviation.

Wei Ying could feel the man dying underneath him, but he didn’t stop. He wanted him dead – even if he was the older brother of a guy he had once considered to be one of his closest friends.

“Elder brother!” The call may not have addressed Wei Ying, but it warned him of the incoming attack.

Letting go of Nie Mingjue, Wei Ying jumped backwards, in a quick movement pocketing the seal and getting out his flute, lifting it to his lips.

Lan Xichen, whose original intent it had been to save his elder sworn brother, was forced to dodge the incoming rain of three corpses attacks.

“WEI WUXAIN!”

The new voice didn’t reach Wei Ying anymore, the haze around his senses had become too heavy – Wei Ying could only tell that someone had screamed something.

He however felt an attack incoming and promptly twisted his flute away from his mouth and into the way of the incoming swords strike, effectively blocking it.

The flute didn’t crack or give way.

Instead, its dark energy transferred straightly onto the weapon, running along its blade and reaching for the attackers’ golden core, wanting to corrupt it.

Jiang Chengs sense of danger warned him before he had even understood the situation fully, his golden core alarming him quickly enough. He jumped back, sheeting his sword and summoning his mothers whip.

The ring on his finger quickly transformed into a violet, crackling manifest of a lightning bolt.

Making an attempt to hit Wei Ying with Zidian, Jiang Cheng failed to pay enough attention to his surroundings – as Wei Ying dodged, the whip hit a big rock, which promptly cracked into two halves, of which one nearly immediately tumbled down towards them.

Jiang Cheng moved to the side, Lan Xichen reached for Nie Mingjue and jumped out of the way as well. The boulder hit two unsuspecting cultivators who had been further behind of them, fending off the corpses that threatened to come too close to the sect leaders.

Both of them were crushed into a paste.

Even the resentful energy all around them could patch them up well enough for them to rise up as corpses.

“Wei Ying!”

Still hearing nothing, Wei Ying lifted the flute to his lips once again, playing the attack melody he had once written for Wen Ning. The music enhanced the corpses in a hundred-meter radius of his own position. Making them faster, stronger and most of all more resilient.

”Wei Ying!”

This time the call was paired with someone closing in on Wei Ying – and that he most definitely took note off.

“There is fire!”

Now that he was aware again, he recognized uncle fourths voice.

Summoning a bunch of corpses to keep the three sect leaders in front of him busy, Wei Ying worked on finding out from where the fire was coming.

He quickly noticed it crawling up the back of the mount.

What a great strategy – the sects waves of cultivators came from the front while a fire ate away the only escapes routes the inhabitants of the burial mount had.

Trying to assess how great the danger coming from the flames was, Wei Ying looked around.

He only saw uncle forth and A-yuan.

Neither of them looking good.

“Where is the rest!?”

Dreading the response, Wei Ying rushed over to the two, taking A-Yuan from uncle forth when he hunched over in a fit of coughs.

“Slaughtered, smoked out, burned, drowned in the blood pool, or pushed down into the abyss. And I don’t have too much air left, my old body won’t be able to survive this.”

Wei Ying didn’t even try to convince Uncle forth that he would live. He knew very well that the man wouldn’t live through the night – even without the cultivators threatening his life on top of the flames smoke poisoning the old mans system.

Instead, Wei Ying clutched A-Yuan to his chest, noticing that the boy to be unconscious and running a high fever already.

Again he reached for the stygian tiger seal.

Weij Ying clutched it harshly, using the force of all the resentment in the air, that it cracked.

The crack immediately loosened large bits of the control the seal held over the corpses, making them grow even more fierce and bloodthirsty.

Wei Ying allowed the side effect of the crack, a painful backlash, to shake his body, ripping at his mind and heart.

He knew this little crack was enough to make the corpses all over burial mount run wild – feed only by resentment and not restrained in any form or kind.

Even Wei Ying himself felt the resentment taking him over more and more. But he didn’t allow it to overpower him. Not while he had A-Yuan in his arms.

Forced to watch on as uncle forth drowned in the resentment and died at its hands, he looked on as uncle forth became one of his corpses.

Giving a short whistle, Wei Ying gave uncle forth the command to protect A-Yuan and escape with him – to bring him somewhere far away and put him down at some families doorstep. Wei Ying would just hope the best from there on.

After he was sure the corpse wouldn’t defy his orders, he laid the unconscious toddler into the corpse’s arms.

A few moments later he found himself engaged in a fight with Lan Xichen.

Since his mind was still rather clear, he could easily see through all of Lan Xichens attacks. He had crossed swords with Lan Zhan often enough to know all the Lan sects preferred moves.

And mind you, Lan Zhan was much better than Lan Xichen when it came to fighting.

Lan Xichen lacked the fierce determination to come out as the victor. He was too soft. He tried to reason things out. To bad, Wei Ying didn’t feel like reasoning things out.

In fact, he managed to gain the upper hand and push Lan Xichen back more and more.

Only a little bit more and he would have him-

“Don’t move Wei Ying!”

Turning, surprised to hear his adoptive brother behind him, as he had never noticed him move there, he was even more shocked when he saw A-Yuan in Jiang Chengs grasp.

The purple clad man was holding the poor child by his ancle, letting him dangle down from his hand.

“Let go of him!” Not watching Lan Xichen in his panic, Wei Ying suffered a sidewards incoming blow to his upper arm, a deep gash ripping his flesh wide open.

He only felt a dull pain, the resentful energy had taken most of his senses out already.

His eyes stayed on A-Yuan.

“So, this kid didn’t get kidnapped by you? Is he yours?”

The way Jiang Chengs voice went from gruesome to pleased in a sickening way.

Wei Ying growled.

“Let. Him. Go. This is between you people and me. A-Yuan has nothing to do with this.”

“Shijie had nothing to do with this either!”

With that Jiang Cheng lifted the blade of his sword, pointing it at A-Yuan dangling from his other arm.

Wei Ying blackened out.

Within a split second he had lifted his flute to his lips, commanding all dead spirits of burial mount forth at once.

Vengeful spirits didn’t take as much effort to summon as corpses did, so Jiang Cheng found himself drowning in them within a heartbeats time.

He had to let A-Yuan go unless he wanted to be corrupted right on the spot.

Wei Ying rushed forwards, moving to catch the child before he quickly distanced himself from the scene, not wanting to risk his own spirit being overwritten.

As soon as he was a safe distance away, he looked at A-Yuan.

His breathing had gone from labored to shallow.

The child was dying.

And that was when Wei Ying finally lost it completely.

Now not only were all of the Wens gone, no, even A-Yuan would be dead soon. And he himself too.

And that was when it hit him. Yes, he had known he would die along, but he hadn’t had what it took to end his life right on the spot.

But now he had gained exactly that.

So may the suicidal mass murder start.

He fished out the stygian tiger seal and slammed it into the ground, kneeling down next to it – holding A-Yuan cradled to his chest.

Drawing in all the resentful energy he could accumulate, Wei Ying gathered it where his golden core would usually have been sitting.

After he was sure he had bundled enough hatred, he then proceeded to push it directly into the stygian tiger seal, intending to crush it once and for all.

He could see Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao, Su She and a bunch of other cultivators close in on him. They seemed to have gotten past the corpses.

But that wouldn’t do them any good. The spirits around Juang Cheng quickly washed over to them as well, giving Wei Ying the time he needed to execute his plan.

He only had to obliterate that evil-summoning seal. That way no one would be able to use it ever again – not him and not anyone else.

And everyone on this mount would be whipped out as side effect.

A-Yuan and he himself would perish due to the backlash of the whole affair. The rest of the cultivators, who were further away from the seal, would die due to the fierce corpses going absolutely rampant.

And the corpses that were left standing after all this was over would roam burial mount for all times, keeping everyone else away from it – that way no one could ever come here again and start to accumulate this raw evil energy, like he had done it after being dropped here.

This would be the final battle – taking out the grandmaster of demonic cultivation and all the sects who had been stupid enough to come here on this day. Or at least all the cultivators of said sects who were present.

The seal started to crack more and more. Wei Ying watched on, his eyes cold, uncaring – in the face of death he found himself calmer than ever.

Then suddenly, he saw a flash of a memory.

He saw the seals memories.

He saw the times he had used it.

He saw… Lan Zhan?

Focusing on that particular frame, he saw the battle a few weeks ago.

He saw himself going wild, loosing all sense and even consciousness as he blacked out and fought simply fueled by resentment. He saw what happened after his memory had stopped keeping track of his doings.

He had murdered nearly everyone. No surprise there.

Only a few were left standing – and even they weren’t really standing anymore.

He could see the poor few still living crawling on the bloodied ground, trying to get up as he towered above them, crushing the hand of a cultivator reaching for his sword.

Then he saw Lan Zhan.

He was limping, his usually pristine white robes were dirtied and bloodied.

His headband was slightly crooked, his hair no longer neatly styled – he no longer looked like an untouchable god. He looked… exhausted. Human.

“Wei Ying”

Lan Zhans voice was still strong, but it sounded pleading. It sounded like a ‘Please stop’.

Wei Ying saw himself, saw how he didn’t even take note of it. Saw how he was attacked once more.

And then he saw the impossible.

It wasn’t him who blocked the blow. It was Lan Zhan.

“Traitor!”

Wei Ying had absolutely no idea who that ruffled up guy was, but he seemed familiar. Su She? Maybe?

Lan Zhan remained quiet.

Wei Ying himself as well. He watched the memory, saw how his past self remained unmoving, looking like an angered corpse that was somehow still shedding tears.

“How can you defend him again! I always knew you weren’t as upright as you always acted! You court the devil by keeping that man alive!”

“No.”

The way Lan Zhan spoke made it obvious that he did not think of Wei Ying as evil.

Wei Ying couldn’t help but be surprised.

He kept on pressing down onto the seal, hoping to see the rest of the memory before the seal broke and he perished along with it.

He needed to know why Lan Zhan had been defending him.

And he did find out.

The memory progressed with Lan Zhan bringing Wei Ying from the battlefield.

Wei Ying could see how out of it he was, he could see that nothing would have ever reached him in that state, but Lan Zhan kept trying.

He was taking Wei Ying to a safe spot – a cave far away from the battle.

And as though that was not already enough, Lan Zhan started to take care of Wei Yings wounds, speaking soft reassuring words while Wei Ying kept trying to push him away, even cursing him.

But Lan Zhan tolerated it all.

And that was when Wei Ying got a glimpse of Lan Zhans eyes – in that memory he looked different.

And suddenly something clicked inside Wei Ying. Lan Zhan didn’t hate him.

But before the stone, that had been kicked into motion, could turn into a landslide, the memory showed its last scene.

Thirty three men appeared behind Lan Zhan, they demanded him to hand over Wei Ying.

Lan Zhan blocked them, even though they were clearly all elders from his clan.

He told them to step back – they did not.

He warned them not to try and touch Wei Ying – they tried.

Lan Zhan fought them all, striking them all down. In the end he said he would accept punishment for his crimes, he would go with them, but he wouldn’t let them harm Wei Ying.

Seeing how little choice they truly had, the elders accepted. Otherwise Lan Zhan could and probably would have cut them apart.

Lan Zahn faded out of the memory, just like the elders.

Tears suddenly filled Wei Yings eyes. But not because of himself.

He had been a student at Gusu Lan for long enough to know what punishment someone would get for hurting an elder and defying them.

And hurting thirty-three of them would mean thirty-three times the punishment: thirty-three lashes from the disciplinary whip.

Lan Zhan couldn’t have survived that.

Wei Yings emotions scrambled into place, finally he understood.

Lan Zhan had never accepted anyone breaking the rules, touching him or calling him by his birth name – but Wei Ying always got away with it – even if he was punished.

Still: Lan Zhan had never punished him any more severe than the rules asked for.

And back then when they had fought the tortoise of slaughter, he had refused all ideas that would have ended in Wei Ying sacrificing himself.

And much, much later, when everyone had called him a genius, a war hero, Lan Zhan was the only one who had told him off.

He was the only one who told him how much Wei Ying was harming himself.

So looking back, Lan Zhans ‘Come back to Gusu with me’ had probably never referred to a punishment.

Lan Zhan had wanted to help him.

Only an Idiot wouldn’t get that after seeing that memory.

Lan Zhan had looked at him with so much fond caring, there was no way that Lan Zhan didn’t care for him in one way or another.

Suddenly Wei Ying wanted nothing more than to see Lan Zhan and apologize.

Hopefully they would meet in death.

He pushed down onto the seal a final time, watching it crashing apart, finally giving in underneath the pressure and breaking into a million tiny pieces.

Wei Ying closed his eyes, accepting his fate with the last few tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Here I come Lan Zhan, I hope you can ever forgive me.”

When the wave of resentment came, it felt different than Wei Ying had assumed.

He had assumed it would rip his body into thousands of shreds.

He had assumed it would make him feel like he was burned and eaten alive.

He had assumed it would be an oppressive force taking all his life force from him.

But instead, all the energy crawled into his body, seeking a spot where it could be assembled and bundled – it didn’t want to be destroyed.

In consequence it didn’t destroy him either, it made him a vessel once again – like he had been before he had created the seal.

And instead of killing him off with the sheer amount of resentment that now swam around in his body, it formed something that felt like a golden core inside him.

He lived.

A-Yuan survived too. Still looking sick and weak, but breathing nonetheless.

And –

Wei Ying couldn’t believe his eyes.

Before him sat the one person he had been dying to meet.

Lan Zhan.

Ok, maybe he was dead.

“…Wei…Ying?”

Hearing the mirage in front of him speaking, Wei Ying tumbled forward, throwing an arm around Lan Zhans neck, crying into the mans neck as he pulled himself closer, nearly squishing A-Yuan between them.

“I am so, so sorry Lan Zhan, I misunderstood you – I take everything back. You were right, I was wrong – with everything. Please forgive my insolence!”

Wei Ying could feel Lan Zhan freezing up, could feel him flinch, then he felt something wet on his arm. The arm that he was embracing Lan Zhan with.

Before Lan Zhan could say anything, Wei Ying moved himself away and took Lan Zhan in.

He was only clad in sleeping wear. He was looking pale and sweaty. He didn’t smell like sandalwood like usually, instead he smelled of blood and bitter medicine. And there was blood on Wei Yings arms. Meaning that blood had to have seeped through Lan Zhan’s robe in his back and neck.

In fact Lan Zhan looked like he should be in a med bay instead of sitting around in the dirty burial mounts where his wounds could infect.

“Lan Zhan, I-”

This time Lan Zhan cut him off. “Minor wound. Don’t worry.”

Wei Ying went numb.

Wait.

The blood had come from Lan Zhans back and neck, right? Had these heartless Gusu People really whipped him thirty-three times? If so, how had he survived that?

But that much was clear as day: if Lan Zhan could bleed then he must be alive – in consequence both of them were alive. And on burial mount. During a siege on nonother than him – Wei Wuxian the cultivator who became the devil.

Wait, that actually brought forth many more questions. For example: how had Lan Zhan even gotten here? He didn’t look like he had participated in the siege after all.

Was that something the seal had pulled off? Some sort of ‘fulfilling your last wish’ joke?

“Wangji.” The shocked voice behind Land Zhan riled Wei Ying up.

How could Lan Xichen permit his brother to be punished this much and then act worried only a bit later!?

Without thinking about it, Wei Ying rose up and moved around Lan Zhan to block him from his brothers view.

“Wangji, I have already seen you. And even if I don’t know how you got here, please listen to reason and come here. You have been punished enough. Ask yourself – is this worth all your pain?”

Wei Ying was indignified at Lan Xichen ignoring him like this, but unwillingly he saw that Lan Xichen had a point in his words.

After all this was a siege against Wei Ying. And if Lan Zhan sided with him – should he ever do so – he would be taken down as well. And that was not at all acceptable.

Especially not now that Wei Ying was aware of how good and noble Lan Zhan truly was.

“Brother, Wei Ying is good.”

Wei Ying froze. Lan Zhan sounded like he was accusing his brother and the rest of the cultivators for having pushed Wei Ying into a corner – he spoke like he saw no wrongdoings in Wei Yings actions – like he believes Wei Ying was just exercising his right to defend himself and live. Like Wei Ying was just using the wrong means for the correct causes.

“Wangji!”

“I am impressed, how did you manage to twist the esteemed Hanguang-Jun like that? Since when have you two been this close?”

When Jiang Wangji stepped in, Zidian crackling in his hand, Lan Zhan stepped besides Wei Ying, showing no sign of intending to justify anything or rectify any accusations Wei Yings brother had made.

Wei Ying himself didn’t bother with his brothers’ words either. Instead, he just found himself puzzled as to why the vengeful spirits seemed to have been destroyed by the few cultivators in front of them.

They shouldn’t have been that weak.

And no one other than him should have been able to call them back – and he definitely hat not done so.

“Wangji, please.” Never had anyone seen Lan Xichen this pleading. “Return home with me. You shouldn’t let your feelings lead you onto the wrong path.”

“Not the wrong path.” Lan Zhans tone was harsh, unforgiving. “My choices.”

“Then go down with Wei Wuxian for all I care!” Jiang Cheng flicked his wrist and like a snake, Zidian shot forward.

It didn’t take a genius to see that Lan Zhan wouldn’t be able to dodge. He couldn’t block either. He had no weapon.

Without thinking Wei Ying moved, standing in between the whip and Lan Zhan, letting his back being frayed open as he faced Lan Zhan – shielding A-Yuan and Lan Zhan.

“Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan made a move to reach for Wei Ying to stabilize him, but with his injuries the movement was too fast, forcing him back to his knees.

It had been a wonder for Lan Zhan to be able to stand in the first place anyway.

“Wangji!” While Lan Xichen only called out for his brother, Wei Ying went down with him, hugging the other man to his chest to help him take weight off his back. A-Yuan now lying across Wei Yings legs as he kept his back turned to his enemies so he could adjust Lan Zhans posture.

“It’s enough Lan Zhan. I understand. But that won’t change my crimes anymore. I will be convicted for them, so don’t involve yourself anymore. Thirty-three lashes are enough. I know you are the most righteous person in this world, but you shouldn’t have to suffer for my wrongdoings. Please don’t let your morals cause your death.”

“Don’t act like the generous hero here!”

A second lash came in, crackling down on Wei Yings back, but Wei Ying didn’t turn. He only looked at Lan Zhan. Trying to convince him of his words.

“Sect leader Jiang, let me handle this, please.” Lan Xichen spoke up, earning a huff from Jiang Cheng but the whip-lashes indeed stopped.

“Wei Wuxian, please let Wangji go. He has suffered enough on your accord.”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan’s soft tone shocked all present people equally – just for very different reasons.

Nie Mingjue, who seemed to have been able to avoid qi deviation, was pretty sure that Lan Qiren would go into qi diviation pretty soon too. Now that he had heard the absolute devotion in Lan Wangjis voice, he suddenly understood why Lan Wagji and Wei Wuxian had continuously fought among themselves during the sunshot campaign. He may have been a savage man in his nature, but he wasn’t stupid. He could differentiate between fights caused by being too different and fights caused by emotional involvement and worry. He now understood their relationship to be of the second nature, not the first one like the world had always assumed.

Su She on the other hand saw the man he had assumed to be incapable of producing any positive emotion, an arrogant block of ice, speak as though he was trying to convey all his thoughts and feelings in just one name. And he remembered. Back then, when the Gusu Lan disciples had fought the waterborne abyss, Wei Ying had dived down to rescue Su She from said abyss. And when Wei Wuxian had been at risk of sinking as well, Lan Wangji had swoped down and dragged them both up even though that was just abut the most dangerous thing he could have done. Su She felt his insides go cold. Seemingly Lan Wangji had been all about Wei Wuxian even back then when they were all just kids – his weakness had never been studies or fighting, it had always been another man.

Jiang Cheng surprised himself: he couldn’t help but feel jealous. He suddenly saw how his own bond with Wei Ying had broken apart while Lan Zhan had managed to stick around even though his situation hadn’t been much different for Jiang Cheng’s own. It was an eye-opener. After all Jiang Cheng had faulted his brother for everything while Lan Wangji seemed to have chosen to believe in Wei Ying. Maybe this siege could have been avoided, had he chosen to have faith in his brother and given him backing instead of forcing him to go rouge.

Lan Xichen, in comparison to all others, was the only one who went downright pale. He could see his brothers love for Wei Wuxian so clearly, that he was sure everyone else would notice it as well. On top of that he saw his brother being more than just willing to die for his love. Right here. Right now.

“Lan Zhan, please don’t do this to me. Don’t make me watch you die.”

Even more than before, the surrounding people underwent sudden enlightenment.

Jiang Cheng’s reaction was immediate. He paled. He had never known his brother to be gay.

Nie Mingjue facepalmed. No wonder had that guy always flirted with every woman but never started anything. He had already suspected Wei Wuxian to be asexual during the war, but this? Yea, that certainly explained a lot.

Su She was more extreme in his reaction. He was simply and downright disgusted. But then again, he wasn’t surprised. Looking back at how Wei Wuxian had always clung to Lan Wangji nothing else would make sense as explanation. Wei Wuxian had wasted more breaths and eye battings at Lan Zhan than all the females around them. It was still a revolting discovery though – especially when Su She thought about the fact that Wei Ying had actually seen him naked once.

Lan Xichens stomach churned for another reason. So his brothers love wasn’t one sided. But even though this wasn’t intuitive: this actually made nothing better. Wei Wuxian would find his death after all. What about his brother then?

“Wei Ying.” I was amazing how Lan Zhan managed to convey so many things with just his name. Wei Ying found himself smiling even in this situation.

“’Then don’t make watch you die’? Aren’t you just too sweet?” Wei Wuxian belatedly noticed his tongue slipping up, but as always, he couldn’t stop his tongue anymore. “Well then lets both live happily ever after with our son?”

Before anyone could react to the ‘son-comment’, a sudden burst of resentful energy washed over them.

The destroyed stygian tiger seal had set the corpses into beast-mode after all.

The onlookers of the Lan Zhan-Wei Ying-scene turned, getting ready to fight.

Wei Ying lifted his flute as well, preparing for a draining attempt at subduing the corpses while moving A-Yuan off his lap.

“Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan reached for Wei Yings wrist as he stood up.

“Lan Zhan, please let me go, I am the only one who can call them back.” Wei Ying shook his wrist lightly, but Lan Zhan didn’t let go of him.

“Will you live?” Lan Zhan looked at him seriously. His eyes intense.

“Good question, I don’t know.” Wei Ying gave Lan Zhan an easy smile, trying to keep the mood light. “But if I do nothing, we will both die. We all will.”

Lan Zhan remained unmoving at first, then he reluctantly let Wei Ying go.

“Thank you for your trust.” Wei Ying gave another smile and turned to face the corpses. He let his senses reach out and tried to sense in what areas of the mount the corpses still roamed free.

The answer was quite frustrating: Everywhere.

Taking a deep breath – drawing all the dark energy in his body outside and into his breath – he started blowing air into the instrument.

The quickest cultivators ahead of him immediately turned towards him. Nie Mingjue, Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen attacked Wei Ying without second thought – assuming he was trying to aid and coordinate the corpses. A moment later Su She started playing some attack music on his gequin.

The other cultivators remained still and unmoving, still facing the front so that they could see the incoming corpses and hold them off, while the others dealt with the Yiling patriarch.

Wei Ying made no attempt to defend himself, he even closed his eyes as he continued playing a connecting melody – trying to tie the corpses energies into a single string so he could calm them all in one go later on.

But his goals weren’t visible to his attackers, so Jiang Cheng – the only one who could deal physical damage effectively from the distance – lashed out with his Zidian first – attempting to stop Wei Ying from whatever he was trying to do.

His plan didn’t work out though. Lan Zhan caught the whip without hesitation, letting his hand be seared and his body be shocked. He nearly dropped to the ground again – after all standing and fighting weren’t exactly a piece of cake after those thirty-three disciplinary whip lashes.

But he remained standing, showing the incoming attackers a straight up glare for daring to attack his beloved one.

In the end, Lan Xichen was the one who saw that his brother would protect Wei Ying until the bitter end or die trying – so he swooped in and fought off Nie Mingjue and Su She while Lan Zhan kept holding onto Zidian, hereby immobilizing Jiang Cheng until the man finally gave in and retracted the whip.

Lan Xichen still remeined standing in front of his brother and Wei Wuxian – not at all liking the fact that he had to defend a mass murderer, but he would gladly do so for now if that meant his brother got to live.

“I am done. I can deal with them.”

Surprised at Wei Wuxians tone Lan Xichen threw a single glance at the black clad man. He was smiling at Lan Zhan.

“How?” Lan Xichen didn’t miss out on the fact that his brother by no way doubted Wei Wuxian, in fact his brother seemed worried about the man at most.

“A secret melody.” Wei Ying winked at Lan Zhan. “It has been playing in my head whenever I needed to calm down – and let me tell you: it works miraculously well!”

Lan Zhan gave Wei Ying a questioning look but let the vague answer pass anyway.

“Go.”

“I will.” With another smile Wei Ying passed by the Lan brothers and all other cultivators around them – except Lan Zhan they all tailed him with suspicious glances.

Wei Ying didn’t care though. He was used to mistrust. Besides, if he wanted to calm those corpses down, he couldn’t let his mind be disturbed.

So, he stayed serene, thinking of the music in his heart, closed his eyes and started playing.

Behind him Lan Zhan wavered, his eyes shooting open as he had to steady himself against a boulder.

That was Wangxian – the song he had written for Wei Ying! And as far as he knew, he only hummed it to Wei Ying once while said man wasn’t even fully aware.

How had Wei Ying remembered the notes?

And-

His heart jumped. Wei Ying remembered. Wei Ying had said this song had clamed him when he needed it. Wei Ying must have carried this song in his heart.

And most importantly: he used it to calm down the corpses around them – showing that his heart must have a strong attachment which he could write onto the corpses by plying the song.

Lan Zhan burst with love for this man.

He couldn’t stand by, he brushed his worried brother off, who had attempted to steady him, walked straight at Su She, took the guys gequin and joined Wei Ying – on his way already starting to play his own song. Effectively shutting Su She’s screaming about Lan Zhan’s audacity to steal his instrument up.

The cultivators could only watch on in bewilderment as they witnessed Lan Zhan and Wei Ying duetting a song all of them had never heard before.

It was a song these two obviously shared in between themselves.

And watching it was nearly scary: Lan Zhan was obviously boosting the effect Wei Yings music had, his pure cultivation nourishing Wei Yings demonic one.

One after another the corpses were put to rest.

Not only did they lose all life, they even sank right back into the earth, vanishing like they had never been there.

The duo played the song twice until all corpses were subdued, the resentful energy in the air fading – just like the resentful energy within Wei Ying and the energy all-in-all within Lan Zhan.

Shortly after having played the last note, Wei Ying wavered and fell unconscious. Lan Zhan caught him and went down with him, landing straight on the ground with his arms wrapped around Wei Ying.

When the other cultivators closed in in them, Lan Zhan glared at them – warning them not to make a wrong move.

And that was how – against all intuitions – Lan Xichen ended up bringing the Yiling patriarch to Gusu. Otherwise, his brother wouldn’t have gone back there for treatment himself.

In fact, because of that, the remnants of the siege, the rests of the major sects and a few others, had come together to discuss what should be done from here on.

Most of them still wanted the Yiling patriarch dead and Lan Wangji punished until he dropped dead, but there were also those who suddenly weren’t in favor of destroying Wei Ying anymore.

Like Nie Mingjue – he had seen how little evil intent had been inside Wei Wuxians eyes after he wasn’t threatened by them anymore. He had been there when Wei Wuxian had called the corpses off, clearly defending all of them even though he could simply have escaped alone. So, if they left Wei Wuxian alone, he probably wouldn’t be an issue at all.

Jiang Cheng was the same. Now that someone else had stepped up for his brother, he couldn’t really remain standing against him. And even if he couldn’t forgive him for killing his sister and her husband, making Wei Ying live and take responsibility would probably be more satisfying than just killing him once anyway. Besides, he had not forgotten his jealousy from before either. He wasn’t blind – he wanted his brother around. He had just denied that up until now – all because of his stupid pride.

Lan Xichen opposed a severe punishment as well – even if he only did so to keep his brother alive and in the best case scenario also allow him a live with his love.

Naturally there also where those who wouldn’t listen. Su She and Jin Guangyao wanted to execute a punishment ‘to set an example’, while others wanted ‘the evil removed from the word’ – all the while not knowing, that said evil was currently inside the Gusu med bay, arguing with Lan Zhan.

“Stop being so petty! I know you hate others touching you but the head doctor isn’t here right now and your bandages must be soaked if your clothes look like that! Let me change them already!”

“Wei Ying-” It was a warning, clearly, but Wei Ying couldn’t have cared less. “No, you are being unreasonable. Do you want your wounds to infect?” Wei Ying crossed his arms, looking impatient. “Or are you afraid of letting me see your wounds?”

Lan Zhan didn’t answer.

“Whatever it is Lan Zhan, get over it and let me help you. Please. I want to do at least that much after all the trouble I caused you.”

Lan Zhan looked like he still wanted to say ‘no’, but he didn’t. He was clearly affected by Wei Yings display of guilt.

“Besides now that you are my husband it is my duty to take care of you!” Wei Ying realized what he has said belatedly once again. Well, he just had to go and ruin it, right? Him and his loose tongue. He really should get rid of that flirting habit.

“Husband?” Lan Zhan looked deadpanned. His voice devoid of anything. But contrary to his expression, his eyes had taken on a dark sparkle.

Was he angry? Or maybe just on the way to getting riled up like when they were teenagers?

Suddenly very much desiring to tease Lan Zhan like he had done when they were young Wei Ying gave an enthusiastic nod, speaking enthusiastically. “Yes, husband! I mean you saved me, right? With that I am the damsel in distress, and you are my prince – thus a wedding is in order, right?” Wei Ying winked at Lan Zhan, puckering his lips in an act of expecting a kiss before he added a sweet sounding, “Besides we have a son already. And A-Yuan remembers what I said back then. Plus he said I was looking at you like a mommy looks at a daddy, so-“

Ah yes, there it was: Wei Yings teasing backfiring on him. He had not watched his mouth and was punished for it. And he most definitely had to fix that. As in right now.

“But then again, forget it, what do kids know?” Laughing it off Wei Ying gave Lan Zhan a small shove, making him sit down on one of the beds in the med bay, acting as naturally as he could, as he acted like he still only cared about changing Lan Zhans bandages.

“Children are honest. You are not.”

Surprised Lan Zhan would actually say such a thing, Wei Ying stilled his hands before they could come into contact with Lan Zhans robes.

“What is that supposed to mean? I will have you know that I am a very serious, very honest guy. That is why everyone likes me!” Wei Ying paused, then signed and corrected himself. “Ok, why everyone liked me. Past tense. The demonic cultivation gave my image a little blow.”

“Wei Ying?” Asking his ‘Are you ok?’ in the manner that was so much like him, Lan Zhan looked at Wei Ying in mild worry. He did not like the undertone Wei Ying had just used.

“Ah, never mind. It is too bothersome to constantly be surrounded by people anyway.” Wei Ying closed his eyes. “Besides, most of the people I knew throughout my life and actually liked are gone by now, so…”

Lan Zhan fell silent, not knowing what to tell Wei Ying to make him feel better. Social contacts had never been his forte. That was always more of his brother’s talent.

“But you know Lan Zhan…when I understood that you didn’t hate me, that was good enough. It made me happy.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes widened. “Never hated Wei Ying.”

“I know that now.” Wei Ying signed, this time reaching for Lan Zhan’s robes for real. “But I didn’t get that for a long time. In fact, when we were young, I thought you at least liked me a bit but as time passed, I was surer and surer that you hated me for acting the way I acted, saying the things I said and in short, well just hated me being me.” Wei Ying undid the front of Lan Zhan’s belt, careful not to rip at it in case it would pull the fabric of Lan Zhan’s cloths and drag them over his wounds or the bandages. “But at burial mount I saw a memory of the stygian tiger seal. It showed me how you defended me and cared for me after the last battle before the siege.”

“You didn’t remember that?” Lan Zhan sounded surprised, he even sounded a bit pained.

“No, sorry. My cultivation tends to block things out whenever I am going through phases where I feel dark emotions very strongly.” Throwing the belts aside as their backs where bloodied, Wei Ying bent down a bit more so he could start taking Lan Zhan’s robes off.

“How much do you remember now?” Lan Zhan caught Wei Yings hands, not letting him touch his clothes any further.

“Well, you saved me, cared for my wounds, spoke some words I do not recall but remember to be spoken softly and then you were led away for-” Wei Ying nodded at Lan Zhan’s robes, clearly meaning the punishment. “And now do me a favor and set my hands free, I need them to undress you.”

“Don’t.” Lan Zhan’s voice sounded strained – quite apparently so.

“Oh, come on Lan Zhan, I already undid your belt, so we are halfway there anyway. Besides, it’s not like I will peel you out of your pants.”

Apparently, Lan Zhan didn’t take it the humorous way. His grasp on Wei Ying tightened even more.

“I will wait for the doctor.”

“You don’t trust me to do this properly, do you?” Wei Ying suddenly had lost all jokes and fun comments. He didn’t know why, but he was growing angry – the resentful energy escaping his body made that quite noticeable for Lan Zhan as well.

“Wei Ying-” That was a ‘no, that is not the issue’, a ‘I trust you’, an ‘I am sorry if I offended you’ – but Wei Ying wasn’t willing to listen. With Lan Zhan things always had to end like that. Ever since he had crawled back out of the burial mounts.

“Ok then, what is it if that’s not the issue? And don’t tell me it’s your hatred for touching as long you would let another touch you.” Wei Ying tried to pull himself free, but Lan Zhan didn’t let go of him. And Lan Zhan had always been stronger than Wei Ying.

Wei Ying still tried to free himself two more times. All the while Lan Zhan remained quiet, not willing to tell the truth.

“Yiling Patriarch!” Hearing the call of his title, Wei Ying finally managed to pull himself free, quickly using the chance to distance himself from Lan Zhan.

“Yes?”

“The child has woken up. He wants to see you.”

Wei Ying immediately forgot his anger, rushing towards where he knew A-Yuan to rest.

The boy had recuperated quite well. His fever had gone down, he had been clad in new clothes – and even through they sadly were the white mourning robes of the Gusu Lan sect and not something pretty, they were at the very least clean. A-Yuan had even had been provided with a few snacks.

By the time A-Yuan had finished them and gone back to sleep – strangely not asking for anyone of the Wens, which caused Wei Ying quite a few worries, even if it may just have been a trauma from the fever – the doctor had already changed Lan Zhan’s bandages.

That is how he ended in this situation: As he went back to join Lan Zhan again, feeling like he should inform him about A-Yuan’s health, the female doctor – who had just finished her work on Lan Zhan and clothed the man again – went straight up towards him and demanded him to take off his coat so she could change the bandage on his arm. The gash Lan Xichen had left there was quite nasty and bled quite a lot after all.

Not at all thinking about what he was doing, he undressed his clothes right on the spot – until he was only left with his pants.

“You aren’t exactly shy, are you?” The doctor smiled as she got to work.

“Me? No, I have never been the shy type.” Wei Ying send a semi-heartfelt glare into Lan Zhan’s direction, wanting to add a ‘not like the statue over there’ – he was taking the whole bandaging affair quite personally – but ended up with his words stuck in his throat.

Lan Zhan was looking straight at them – or him to be exact. With quite dark eyes. The look was close to an angry one but somehow different.

Anyhow, it went straight to Wei Yings gut, setting something alive in there.

Especially since Lan Zhan had his eyes everywhere but on Wei Yings eyes – he didn’t even know he had been caught staring.

“Oh, what is this? I didn’t notice it before when I wrapped you up for the first time.” The doctor ran a hand along the burn-mark on his chest. “It looks like the Qishan Wen sects coat of arms.”

“That’s because it is their coat of arms.” Wei Ying scratched his head, looking down at his own chest. “I got that mark when I pushed a girl out of the way. I haven’t seen her since though.”

“Do you want me to get you a cream for that? It may lighten up the scar.”

“That isn’t necessary. It has been healed for many years now anyway. Besides, I have so many scars that it doesn’t matter if this one if visible or not.”

“I see.” The doctor smiled. Her mien was a tat bit sad. “Take more care of yourself in the future. Your skin may heal but the tissue will never be the same once it was hurt that deeply.”

“Yes doctor!” Smiling in an easygoing way, Wei Ying watched the doctor disappear, then looked back at Lan Zhan, surprised to find him standing nearly directly in front of him.

“What is it?”

“When did you get so many scars?”

Blinking at Lan Zhan’s question, Wei Ying looked down at himself. “It’s not that bad you know.”

“There were a lot less.” Wei Ying looked up again, starring into Lan Zhan’s eyes.

“What? When did you ever see me naked before!”

Lan Zhan remained silent, instead just continuing to look at every single scar, his gaze hardening when his eyes found the burn mark on Wi Yings chest.

“You should have accepted that cream.”

“You sound like you really hate that scar.” Wei Ying laughed a bit, lifting his hand to feel over the scar. His skin had a strange texture there – much rougher and harder.

“I do.”

Surprised at Lan Zhan not only hating a scar, that was not even on his own body, and even admitting to it, Wei Ying looked at Lan Zhan again, this time moving into his line of sight so that Lan Zhan’s eyes meet his own instead of the scar. “What? Why? Didn’t we agree back then that it was better for me to have it, than for MianMian to have it on her face?”

Lan Zhan remained silent.

“Hey, I am talking to you! You are being rude, you know!” Making a scene was one of Wei Yings strongest suits, so he went and acted spoiled – just like he had done so many times before.

“Besides, I don’t see why you would hate something I got because I was selfless for once!”

“That is not the problem.”

Not having expected that Lan Zhan would actually entertain him by letting himself be teased, Wei Ying smirked, forming yet another glorious plan inside his head.

“Well, what is the problem then? The one who I got the scar for?” He wiggled his eyebrows, hinting how he had teased Lan Zhan for liking MianMian back then in the cave of the tortoise of slaughter. “Ah Lan Zhan, rest assured, I never did and never will love MianMian, she is all yours.” He snickered seeing how Lan Zhan’s face shifted into something akin to annoyance.

“Oh and one more secret-” Deciding to add another layer to the teasing, Wei Ying stood straight, coming closer and closer to Lan Zhan’s face before he finally moved to the side a bit and whispered straight into the other mans ears. “-I would have acted the same way if you were the one about to be burned, we can’t have the most beautiful cultivator disfigured, can we?”

Instead of getting Lan Zhan to turn bashful or turn red or anything else that was cute, Wei Ying was shocked to see Lan Zhan flinch.

He immediately felt something wasn’t right. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have come that close to you. Or said that. Or done whatever I did wrong.”

Wei Ying stepped backwards, lifting his hands upwards in a show of ‘I give up, it was my fault’.. Lan Zhan didn’t react. Now this was bad.

“Lan Zhan? What is it? Talk to me please?”

Lan Zhan turned around and went back to the bed, Wei Ying could see how he was forcing himself to walk straight and upright. It must have been hurting his back more than anyone else would ever been able to bear. Or at least more than Wei Ying himself could have been able to bear.

“Lan Zhan, please don’t ignore me, ok? You know I say and do a lot of things, but I don’t mean them, so please-” As Wei Ying hurried after him, completely disregarding the fact that he was still half naked, Lan Zhan let out a shaky breath.

“That is also a problem, yes.”

Wei Ying froze. Just what had he done to mess up this badly? Before Lan Zhan had often been angry at him, but the silent treatment was new – and he did not like it, not at all.

“Lan Zhan, you are making me feel disliked again, I-”

“Disliked?” Even though Wei Ying had only tried to fix the situation by telling Lan Zhan what kind of misunderstanding would come from this, he seemed to have worsened it all. Lan Zhan was definitely in a bad mood now.

“Ok sorry Lan Zhan, I didn’t think about what I just said, forget it. I just-” Wei Ying broke off. What had he wanted? Why were things this complicated right now anyway?

“You know Lan Zhan, I just like you, so I want to tease you, I am sorry.” Giving up, Wei Ying rubbed his face, not knowing how else he should tell Lan Zhan that he was someone he regarded highly and had always wanted to be friends with. He just couldn’t control his tongue. But that changed non of his feelings.

“Do not say things you do not mean.”

“But I do mean it!” Exasperated Wei Ying found himself, for the first time ever, thinking Lan Zhan to be blockheaded and stupid. What would it take for Lan Zhan to take him serious for once? Sure, he joked around a lot but even he had his honest moments! Then it hit him, a genius idea.

“I know what to do to show you the truth of my words!” Rushing past Lan Zhan, Wei Ying went to the doctors table, snatched a paper and a brush plus the liquid ink, and returned to Lan Zhan.

In front of Lan Zhan Wei Ying ripped a piece of the paper off and started to write something onto it. “There! A truth-talisman! I developed it so A-Yuan couldn’t lie to me whenever I asked whether or not he had brushed his teeth!”

Lan Zhan gave him an empty stare, clearly not believing him – once again.

So, Wei Ying took the liberty to take Lan Zhan’s hand and put the makeshift-talisman on top of his palm.

Then he asked a question, his eyes glinted mischievously. “I presented you with two rabbits back in our teen days. Did you like them?”

“Yes.” Lan Zhan’s eyes widened hearing his own answer, his ears started to turn pink in embarrassment.

“See, you can’t lie with that talisman!” Wei Ying snickered at Lan Zhan before taking the paper into his own hands again. “And now ask me all questions you want an honest answer to, I won’t be able to lie or evade the question for once so use this chance.”

And Lan Zhan did. It was nearly a surprise with him being such a goody-two-shoes.

“Did or do you like MianMian?”

Wei Ying laughed; Lan Zhan was way too cute asking that question even though the answer was so obvious. “No.”

“Why did you push her aside then?”

“Because I didn’t what her face to be marred.”

“Would you have done that for everyone else too?”

“Hell no” Wei Ying made a face. For all he cared Wen Chao for example could gladly have been burned. And Jiang Cheng would have had to save his ass himself, sorry not sorry, but being saved was a sweet-person-privilege not an angry-person-privilege.

“Then why did you say you would have taken that burn for me then?”

“Because you being burned would absolutely not be an option – ever. It was bad enough that the Wen sect dared to break your leg back then. I was already angry enough at them for that.” Wei Ying huffed, in fact, yes, his answer reminded him just how angry he had been back then. He would gladly have broken Wen Chaos legs as thank-you back then.

Lan Zhan fell quiet for a moment.

Wei Ying moved his head to the side, looking puzzled. “Wait, aren’t you going to ask me if I like you? I thought that was what you didn’t believe coming from me first and foremost.”

Lan Zhan hesitated for a moment. He didn’t know if the answer to that question would make him happy, even if Wei Ying did indeed like him as friend.

“Come on Lan Zhan, just ask me. Or else I will be sad because you will never believe me that I like you.”

Lan Zhan half-signed, finally giving in. “Fine. Do you like me?”

“I do. You always have been and always will be my favorite person.” At first Wei Ying smiled, glad to finally be asked the important question, but as he heard himself answer he nearly suffered a heart attack.

What was that with the favorite person? Hey, hey, the talisman was supposed to make him say the absolute truth – how did something that mushy come out?

And how could Lan Zhan always have been his favorite person when at some point his shijie had been around as well?

Or…wait a minute – the talisman was making him say the truth.

Wei Ying blinked. He had just realized he was seriously stupid.

He liked Lan Zhan more than his siter because he wasn’t just a friend.

Only now did he noticed how much more of his time he had always spend on Lan Zhan than on all others – girls included.

And he had always cared about Lan Zhan’s opinion more than anyone else’s.

Plus, he had only been this fierce in all his fights and arguments with Lan Zhan because he assumed Lan Zhan wanted to punish him for his ways or condemned him and that was the absolute last thing, he wanted Lan Zhan to desire when it came to himself.

So yes, he was in love with Lan Zhan. Which was kind of suboptimal.

Couldn’t he at least have fallen for someone who might like him back one day? Fate really was cruel.

“Do not lie.”

“Lan Zhan, I literally can’t lie right now!” Ah, good, Lan Zhan seemed to be stupid in this area – just like Wei Ying himself. He hadn’t realized what Wei Yings words had meant. Lucky him – that spared him the rejection and the awkward atmosphere afterwards – plus the heartbreak. Wei Ying however still averted his eyes, sitting down on the floor leaning back with his face directed at the roof instead of at Lan Zhan – who was seated on the bed across from him.

“You make it sound like you love me.” Ok correction: Lan Zhan was neither obvious nor stupid in this area. But he was stupid in another area. He said his words as statement, not as question: meaning Wei Ying could evade the truth since he frankly speaking would not be lying.

“Well I guess-” Wei Ying couldn’t help himself and sneaked a glance at Lan Zhan, wanting to see how Lan Zhan may or may not take a confession – just as theoretical knowledge. He however broke off when he saw Lan Zhan’s Face shifting through dozens of emotions.

“Are you ok?” Asking Lan Zhan that question had come naturally to him but since he was the one holding the talisman and not Lan Zhan, he may not get an honest answer anyway, even if he asked him. Then again Lan Zhan had probably not lied once in bis life. After all it was against the Gusu Lans sects rules.

“Wei Ying, put the talisman aside if you don’t want to tell me. Otherwise, I will ask.” Confused about what Lan Zhan was even talking about – especially since he had just completely ignored Wei Yings question, which could be counted as rude, which in turn would be against the Gusu Lan sect rules – Wei Ying failed to put the talisman aside.

“Wei Ying, did you ever like someone?”

“Yes.”

“Me too.” Now that Lan Zhan had already admitted that much, Wei Ying suddenly had the desire to turn tables – especially since Lan Zahn’s last question for him had hit too close to home. Thus, he quickly took the talisman and slapped it into Lan Zhan’s lap.

“How many people did you like in your life Lan Zhan? Romantically I mean.”

“One.” As Lan Zhan hadn’t been quick enough to get rid of the talisman, he was forced to answer. Even if he was visibly not comfortable with having been made to admit that.

Wei Ying decided to make it up to him with a bit of his own honesty. “Me too. I only loved one person as well. Even though it took me half my life to figure that out.”

Saying it out loud was kind of embarrassing but seeing Lan Zhan’s surprised reaction made it worth it.

And suddenly Wei Ying went devil-may-care. He wanted to know who the lucky one was, who Lan Zhan was in love with, even if he had to admit his own feelings in turn. He was sure Lan Zhan would be too nice to force him out of his life.

Good thing that Lan Zhan was still holding the talisman.

And yes, Wei Ying knew fully well that Lan Zhan would be angry at him for drawing the next bit of information out of him – but whatever, he was a fool in love so he was allowed to do stupid things.

“Who is the one you love?”

Wei Ying had never seen Lan Zhan cast a silencing spell this quickly. Especially not on himself.

“That is cheating!”

Lan Zhan gave Wei Ying a that-question-was-off-limits-look. Wei Ying pouted.

“Fine, fine. Then another question, ok?”

Lan Zhan didn’t lift the silencing spell, seemingly afraid of the prior questions answer tumbling past his lips – or he was simply burdened with serious trust issues now.

“Come on Lan Zhan, I promise to be good. I won’t pull such a trick again. I will even tell you something more intimate about me, that you want to know as apology. So, pretty please, forgive me?” Trying his best to look cute and lovable, Wei Ying gave Lan Zhan the puppy dog eyes – which was ironic given Wei Yings fear of dogs.

But Lan Zhan remained unmoved.

So, Wei Ying did the only thing he thought to be possible.

He played the game with and against himself to get back on Lan Zhan’s good side.

“Did you ever attempt serious advances at someone other the one you loved?” Quickly snatching the talisman from Lan Zhan, Wei Ying made himself force-answer the truth.

And he was quite glad he added the ‘except the one you loved’ clause – after all he was quite sure he had been serious to a certain degree when flirting with Lan Zhan at times. “No.”

Putting the talisman back into Lan Zhans lap, Wei Ying smiled again, trying to get Lan Zhan to loosen up. “There you have it, I am actually quite a sensible man. So please talk to me again?”

But instead of talking to him right away, Lan Zhan seemed to progress what he had just heard first. Then he picked up the talisman again and pushed it back at Wei Ying before lifting his silencing spell and asking his next question – quite obviously happy that the answer he had priorly hidden had not tumbled out along with the question.

“Did you ever kiss someone?”

To say Wei Ying was shocked at such an intimate question would have been a grand understatement but given the fact that he was holding the talisman, he had to answer. And actually, he was surprised at his own answer – wasn’t it a lie after all? “No.”

Lan Zhan froze. “You lied. How is that possible?”

Wei Ying, still under the effect of the talisman, answered right back. “I didn’t and it isn’t. I never kissed anyone.” Well ok, as long as he said it like that it was true. After all he had not done the kissing – he had been kissed.

Wei Ying had never seen Lan Zhan look so furious as he did right now. “Do not lie to me. I know you have kissed someone before.”

“Lan Zhan I really can’t lie right now as long as you ask me something! Besides, how would you know whether or not I had-” Wei Ying broke off. Wait, wait, wait. The only kiss he had had and thus the only kiss Lan Zhan could know of was that one – or rather the series of kisses – that was stolen from him at Phoenix mount. And no one except him and that overly strong girl should have witnessed that. The resentful energy inside him was way to weary of all people to not inform him about another presence had there been one. So that only left…the girl?

Oh. Wait: had that girl gone running around telling everyone about that!?

Well, that made it kind of embarrassing.

Or wait, no, right: After that kiss Wei Ying had meet Lan Zhan and they had talked about kisses. Or rather Wei Ying had told Lan Zhan about how many kisses he had had and teased Lan Zhan about how his lips would probably stay virgin for the rest of his life.

Suddenly Wei Ying had to laugh – so that was what this was about. “Ok, I admit it Lan Zhan, I lied to you back then.” Holding up the truth-talisman to empathize that he was indeed telling the truth right at this moment, Wei Ying smiled even broader, even now still feeling amusement at his teenager self’s way of acting. “Back then at Phoenix mount-”

Wei Ying definitely saw Lan Zhan’s eyes dodge his at that – which was strange. Hadn’t he wanted the truth in the first place after all?

Choosing to ignore that detail, Wei Ying continued with his explanation. “-I told you I had already kissed dozens of people dozens of times, right?”

Watching Lan Zhan turn back towards him, like he had not expected this but something else to be brought up, but now that it was something else than what he had feared, he was interested again, Wei Ying just had to smile again. How could anyone be this cute at Lan Zhan’s age and size?

“Well, my dear Lan Zhan, that was a lie.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes widened once again, suddenly the tip of his ears shone a bright red. “So, your first kiss was…?”

By the Lan Zhan trailed off, Wei Ying couldn’t stop himself from answering anymore. His reflexes of putting the talisman had been too slow and he couldn’t silence himself, so yes, he was in for an embarrassment.

“My first kiss was stolen from me just before I meet you on Phoenix mount. I don’t even know who it was.”

Lan Zhan didn’t move an inch – but the way his eyes suddenly seemed to have turned into deep, dark swirling pools of something powerful, made Wei Yings mouth go dry.

On instinct he licked his lips – not realizing how sensitive his lips seemed to be. His stomach however knew – if that flutter was any indication.

And Lan Zhan, who seemed to be tracking his tongues movement with his eyes, wasn’t helping to ease that feeling inside him either.

So, in order to get his attention somewhere else, he did what he always did. He started to ramble. “Well but you know, it was really strange. You know, I was already cultivation the dark path back then but the resentment inside of me made no move to defend me. Thus the one who kissed me must actually have been someone who the energy knew and knew of that I trusted them.”

Lan Zhan kept starring down at Wei Ying, making the other one’s mind grow even more chaotic, casing Wei Yings rambling to worsen – with the worst part being that Wei Ying still held onto the truth talisman.

“But I didn’t have that many people whom I trusted enough to let them come that close to me. Basically, there were only my shijie, and she wouldn’t have kissed me, just no, besides she loved the peacock back then already – my brother, and oh Lord, believe me, if he was the one who did that I would castrate him, but I think I am safe from that ever being a real danger, considering that he doesn’t know anything about love and will probably be a single for life anyway – and well, then there is…you?”

Wei Ying stopped at that. Wait a minute, did this truth talisman turn him into a detective? First off, he found out with whom he was in love with – and generally even just that he was in love with someone – and now he seemed to be finding out who had stolen his first kiss from him?

But Lan Zhan wouldn’t do something like that, right? After all-

All of Wei Yings thoughts skitter to a halt.

Lan Zhan was no longer sitting on his bed.

He was down on his knees in front of him. His hands on his cheeks. His lips on Wei Yings. And he wasn’t going slow either – in fact he was quite aggressive.

Lan Zhan was devouring Wei Yings mouth. He kept going in for more, not even waiting for Wei Ying to respond to him as he separated their lips by the tiniest fractions to bring them together at another angle just a split second later.

Lan Zhan made sure to move his lips from side to side, giving Wei Ying the feeling of their lips being inseparable even if they weren’t glued into one position.

There was no shyness, no hesitation – just an obvious hunger and passion that did not seem to be like Lan Zhan at all. But it was very much like the heated demanding kisses he had received on Phoenix mount.

So, it had been Lan Zhan!

Suddenly feeling as though the sun had decided to rise from within his body at this exact moment, Wei Ying threw his arms round Lan Zhan’s neck, responding as well as he could with his mind not being able to come up with a single coherent thought or course of action.

But it seemed to do the trick for Lan Zhan. He let out a low growl, his hand leaving Wei Yings face now that Wei Ying was pressing back so fiercely.

Possessively, he slid them down Wei Yings naked sides, one hand grasping his hipbone while the other traveled to his lower back, pulling him flush against Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying felt electrified, his whole body was buzzing. His mind went places that had never been explored before.

“God, I love you, Lan Zhan.” Not even realizing how he has started babbling again just moments after Lan Zhan had started to kiss down his neck, instead of shutting his stupid mouth up, he clutched the talisman – which he still held in his hand – even harder, withering under Lan Zhan’s lips.

But the very heartbeat that the words had come out of his mouth, Lan Zhan stopped his ministrations, lifting his face back up to look at Wei Ying.

To others, Lan Zhan may have looked normal, but to Wei Ying, there was a whole other dimension written over Lan Zhan’s features.

The usually golden suns that were his eyes, had turned into deep rich amber colored honey. And even if his face itself remained pretty much unchanged, his ears were red, his breathing a little quick, his lips parted, and there was a fervor written right onto his soul, which spoke volumes of how much and how long Lan Zhan had been dying to kiss Wei Ying like this.

“Repeat that.” Lan Zhan sounded like he was demanding it and yet was pleading for it at the same time.

And even in his dizziness, Wei Ying understood how fragile this moment was.

So, he loosened his hold around Lan Zhan’s neck – startling the man for a second, probably making him fear that Wei Ying had come back to himself and was filled with regret.

“Don’t let your mind come up with something ridiculous now Lan Zhan.” Speaking oh so lovingly, Wei Ying showed Lan Zhan the talisman once again before he held it to his heart.

“Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang-Jun, you are the love of my life. You have been since I came to Gusu, even if I only got it today.”

Lan Zhan didn’t move, but he was listening. And he was yearning for whatever Wei Ying was willing to give him.

So, Wei Ying decided to make his confession a grant one. Lan Zhan certainly deserved that. “Lan Zhan, you are not only my sun, you are my entire solar system – without you the sky isn’t infinite and the earth has no gravity. You are my oxygen, and I am dying to breath. I will walk to the end of this earth for you, I will go to and through hell if that means I can earn myself a place by your side.” Wei Ying couldn’t help himself, his lips just started smiling on their own accord. “I liked you when I first saw you, standing there in the moonlight with that regal countenance of yours, those all-seeing beautiful eyes of yours and that smooth voice, telling me about all the rules I broke. Then I came to adore you when you sat in class, all serious, and before I knew it, I loved you when you and I were alone in the library – I loved being around you so much that I took more than one month longer to copy all the texts than I would have needed.” Wei Ying gave Lan Zhan a peck to the lips. “And in case you didn’t notice – I flirted with many, but you were the only one I ever gave a present to. These bunnies were like us, weren’t they? A calm and responsible white one and a quirky, troublesome black one. And even they were lovers. We must truly be fated, I-”

Way Ying had no chance to sprout any more words of eternal love.

Lan Zhan had already shut him up, diving in for more and more of the only substance that could drive him mad with desire. “Like you, adore you, love you.” Lan Zhan was whispering against Wei Yings lips, staying so close to them that his lips dragged over Wei Yings as he spoke. “Want you so much. Always have. Back then too.” And suddenly Lan Zhan went even further, licking Wei Yings lips, biting them, pulling them and finally parting them as his tongue infiltrated Wei Yings mouth.

A wanton sound came out of Wei Yings throat, taking both of them by surprise. But while Wei Ying for once nearly fell into the pit of feeling shame, Lan Zhan seemed to have decided that just one of these sounds wasn’t enough.

He quickly turned Wei Ying into an instrument, pulling all his strings, making him use his voice to create all kids of new noises.

“Want to bed Wei Ying.”

These words shot straight down to Wei Yings lower half – not that that part of him hadn’t already come very much alive anyway.

“Want to bed Wei Ying every day.”

Nearly going insane from all the sensations and words, Wei Ying could only throw his head back, letting Lan Zhan do as he pleased as he sucked on his neck, making sure to lay a very visible claim on his beloved.

“Then marry me Lan Zhan, I’ll be the first and lace face you see every day.”

Wei Ying was only half aware of what he was saying, but Lan Zhan made up for Wei Ying’s lacking attention, by searing Wei Yings words into his mind, making sure to hold Wei Ying to them.

“Would Wei Ying want to marry me?” Lan Zhan pulled back after he had created a satisfactory mark, going back to kiss Wei Ying, talking to him at the same time – being cattier now than ever before.

“Yes, of course, I would marry you on the spot if I could. I have loved you for long already, I have no doubt I will love you for the rest of my life.”

Wei Ying kissed Lan Zhan back with an equal amount of passion, sneakily moving his arms while Lan Zhan was drowning in the sensation of his beloved kissing him back with no less affection or passion than he himself felt.

Then suddenly, Lan Zhan felt his robes parting, his belts and outer garments sliding open as Wei Ying moved his hands underneath them.

“But you will have to live with me being naughty and flirting with you all day and night long.”

Lan Zhan had no complaint regarding that.

His world, his life, was not only in love with him, no he wanted to touch him and marry him too – it made something in Lan Zhan roar in triumph. He bend over Wei Ying, covering the others entire sight. Wei Ying softly raked his nails up and down over his bandages.

Surprisingly Lan Zhan couldn’t feel his back at all – it might have been the pain killers or just his drunkenness of what was happening right now, but either way, he saw no reason to hold back,

For once he went against schedule, against plans and the proper order of things, giving himself to his racing heart and pulsing body.

He pushed Wei Ying down onto the floor, ridding himself of his upper and inner garments at the same, leaving him equally clad or rather naked as Wei Ying was.

Wei Ying drank in the sight of him, and even with the bandages, he saw the most perfect man he had ever laid eyes on.

“Gods, how did I land you – what have I ever done to deserve you.” And with that Wei Ying pulled Lan Zhan back down, demanding to be kissed senseless – Lan Zhan gladly obliged.

At least until Wei Ying drew a leg up and – whether accidentally or not – brushed against a rather neglected part of Lan Zhan’s body.

Lan Zhan’s breath came out in a strained puff. “Wei Ying, if you don’t what to be taken right here, right now, I would suggest you stop playing with fire.”

“And what if I do want it?” Wei Ying took a lock of Lan Zhan’s hair and twirled it in between them. “What will you do if I want my husband to make me his in all ways he can?” Traveling up the smooth lock of hair, Wei Ying grasped Lan Zhan’s ribbon. “Oh, and will I have a ribbon like that too after I marry you? I always liked it on you.”

Lan Zhan turned feral, ripping his ribbon off and tying it around Wei Yings wrists, tying him up before hooking Wei Yings bound-up arms around his neck. “You can have my ribbon right now. You are my husband; you are allowed to touch.”

Wei Ying suddenly paled. “Wait! That is what it means!? God, I am sorry for all the times I just touched it and even pulled it off without even thinking about it!”

“Have always loved you, have always loved the feeling and sight of you holding my ribbon, have always wanted you to take it after you knew the meaning.” Lan Zhan’s mouth didn’t stop forming words, making him talk so much that Wei Ying felt tears welling up – Lan Zhan was so obviously so in love with him, that it wrenched his heart.

“I know now. But I won’t take it off again.”

Lan Zhan froze. But then Wei Ying laughed happily, seeing his games being successful for once. “I’ll just straight up keep it. You are mine! Let the world see. You will get my headband in turn!”

“Then hurry up and get your headband.” Lan Zhan kissed Wei Ying again, relishing in the knowledge that whenever he felt like it in the future, he would be able to claim as many kisses as he craved for.

Wei Ying was finally his; Wei Ying had finally come back to Gusu. And this time Lan Zhan would make him stay – giving Wei Ying the life he wanted right her by his side.

Lan Zhan could feel Wei Ying looked arms around his neck pulling him down with even more force, making him feel like suddenly everything in this world had found it’s place.

He had certainly found his. He smiled a rare but honest. “Do you remember the song you played before? To calm the corpses?”

Taken off guard by the question, Wei Ying tried to figure out where this was going as he nodded.

“It is a song I composed for you. I hummed it for you in the Cave of the tortoise of slaughter.”

Wei Ying stopped moving all along, his mouth open, his eyes wide. “You composed that? For me?”

“Yes.” Lan Zhan gave Wei Ying an endearing look. “I not only loved you back then, I was also aware of my feelings.”

“Are you teasing me Lan Zhan!?” Seemingly not believing it, Wei Ying smiled that happy grin of his. “I can’t believe it! Ah wait- you never told me the songs name!”

Lan Zhan nuzzled Wei Ying as he said, “Combine our names.”

“Oh, so wait, the top comes first, right? And with us, you are definitely the top, I am very sure of that much. So it’s Wangxian?”

Lan Zhan couldn’t help but fall even more for the man in his arms. “Yes.”

“Did you compose any more songs dearest?”

Lan Zhan smiled again, completely besotted. “I will play them for you on our wedding night.”

“Then I will take you to Lotus pier for our honeymoon!”

Lan Zhan hummed in agreement, imagining them side by side, clad in red.

He hoped the wedding would be soon.

And that his uncle would not go into qi deviation over this matter.

____________________

Autors note:

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked the FanFiction!

By the way, all sorts of feedback are very welcome :)

And please feel free to tell me if you have another scenerio in mind that I should attempt to write :)

[bringsruin]

Headcanon: Foster Care + Shido + The Killings

 this one is complicated. akechi’s relationship to his father is complicated. but this is probably one of the most important headcanons i have. 

 basically, akechi heard about him a LOT from his mother. even if he was too young to really understand a lot of it. he always got bullied as a child for having a single mother. and when she died, the weight of his guilt crushed him. he lost any semblance of innocence when he began to blame himself for the death of his mother. but there was someone far more to blame. 

 now, while akechi was in foster care, he had some very obvious emotional issues. a lot of people did not want to or know how to deal with his trauma. and because of that, he was moved around a lot. even the adults would whisper about his whore mother that killed herself because of him. how his biological family wanted nothing to do with him. it was all true. eventually, he started trying to behave in ways that would allow him to be accepted. he tried to get perfect grades. he tried to be the type of child adults loved. but still, he was just a poor orphan. he still got shit on. he knew that society would always reject him. no matter how hard he tried. there were points when he acted out. his anger would get the best of him. there was nothing he could do. he was powerless. the foster homes were not the best. some were cruel and abusive. some were apathetic. and the ones that were kind still gave up on him. he didn’t trust kindness. he slapped away any hand that would try to pull him from the ledge. not that anyone would. nobody’s child. he was fucked. 

despite knowing that he would be booted from the system when he was 16, he still tried to do well in school. as if playing the part would convince them to let him keep coming when he had nowhere to go. it was all performance. and when he discovered his powers and awakened to the power of a persona, he thought he was blessed. finally, some power. finally.... 

 and so he tracked down shido. the man that ruined his mother. his first thought was to kill him. but then what? he thought that if he told him about his powers, he might be willing to trust him. only 15, and he managed to meet with him. he couldn’t bring himself to tell him. no. he was a walking scandal. it wouldn’t do him any good to tell him. 

and much to his surprise, he believed him. he told him to venture into the metaverse and kill a shadow. he had fought those monsters before... shido told him that, according to research, killing this shadow would kill the person in the real world it was connected to. akechi didn’t want to do it. he didn’t want to kill anyone. but... if he refused, he doubted he would be able to walk out of there. and how hard would it be to track him down if he escaped? he would just be some nameless poor kid that got killed. and even if he didn’t get killed, next year he would be homeless. would he follow in his mother’s footsteps? then who would make this bastard pay? he can still remember how fast his heart beat. how his hands shook. it was so hard... but he did it. her or me... her or me... he told himself. 

he didn’t sleep for days after. and shido coached him on how to make his power’s more effective. he threw himself into it. fighting shadows. the ones without consequence. it was the only thing that made him feel like he had any control over his life. he discovered his abilities to make shadows lose their minds. and shido made good use of it. as he worked for him, shido used a variety of accounts to pay for akechi’s schooling. to keep him from being homeless. he tried to convince himself that he was using shido, but the fact was that he was relying on him. one moment of hesitation and he would be homeless, dead, or any number of things. akechi didn’t like the killing, but he did like the validation he received from his father. he never had someone rely on him. he wanted to be needed. loved. he tried to run from these desires. he convinced himself it was just an act. but it wasn’t. and while his plan to kill shido and ruin him remained in his mind, it wasn’t the only thing that motivated him. 

 in essence, akechi does not enjoy killing. but after doing it for so long, he had become numb to it. he is capable of feeling guilt for it. but he had convinced himself that he HAS to do it or else. but at the same time, he refuses to see that he is basically a hostage of shido’s. he thinks he’s smart enough to be in control, but he is only a child. a child that wants a parent. and shido could use abuse and lovebombing to easily manipulate him. any praise keeps him feeling needed. and with it, he feels like his goal is in sight. akechi HATES shido and wants to ruin him and kill him, but he wants so badly to be loved by anyone. he is very much in a position of being groomed into being an assassin, while shido is planning to kill him after the election. akechi tries to tell himself he is in control, but he never was. 

i am not trying to say akechi doesn’t hate shido. he does. more than ANYTHING. it’s the one thing that he can cling on to. it’s his reason for living. he has nothing else. but he does want someone to care about him. he wants someone to rely on him and need him. he wants the sort of love a parent could give him. and sadly, shido knows all the ways to threaten and manipulate akechi. so as much as he thinks he’s in control, shido is just using him. akechi is a pawn. and he doesn’t think there is any way for him to get out of shido’s grasp. it’s too late. maybe before he started killing people, but now he is too far down. he’s in too deep. he cannot do anything against him. not even just for his plan, but because he is his prisoner. 

not trying to say akechi did nothing wrong, but he is a child being manipulated by an adult. so yeah...

[trashmenofmarvel]

Branded - Chapter 38

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You deal with the consequences of Bucky's actions.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart​ . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, whump, violence

AO3

You didn’t return home that night. The sorcerers wanted to monitor your vitals and made sure you were stabilized after the shock of the bond being suppressed. The agony you’d experienced hadn’t hurt you physically, even though it had felt like dying.

Now you felt… lost. You weren’t even numb, because being numb meant you at least knew what you were feeling. This was different and so much worse.

At least twice an hour you lifted you head from where you laid in the bed, some part of you yearning, reaching out to Bucky and expecting him to be there. But there was nothing across the bond, across the thread you hadn’t realized was there until it was gone.

The mark was still on your shoulder, but it appeared dormant. Faded pink like a fresh scar. The sorcerers said it had worked and you would no longer be compelled to be fed upon.

All you did was give a vague nod. You hadn’t spoken a word since Bucky had been frozen.

Rogers, for his part, never strayed far. He was clearly off-balance with the situation and didn’t seem to know what to do any more than you did. Bucky had sprung this on you both, and the angry part of you said he’d abandoned you to pick up the pieces yourself.

Perhaps it was cruel and unfair of you to feel that way, but anger was better than despair. You were too empty and wrung-out to cry, and perhaps that was a blessing.

It was well into the early hours of the morning when you finally dozed off, and when you woke before noon, Rogers had fallen asleep in the armchair by the bed. Just like Bucky had done when you’d woken up in this room the first time.

But he wasn’t Bucky. He could never be a substitute. A part of you wondered if that’s what Bucky had been thinking when he’d contacted Rogers. Maybe he hadn’t gone that far, but asking his best friend to “care for his girl” while he was gone sounded like some old chivalrous bullshit that he might pull. Goddammit, he might have even said as much to Rogers, assuring him that it was all right if you “moved on.”

You eyed the blond Avenger and grimaced.

When Bucky unfreezes, I’m going to punch him in his beautiful fucking face.

The thought was surprisingly reassuring, because it meant you truly believed he would wake up. In fact, you were going to guarantee it, even if you had to take matters into your own hands. Bucky had mentioned a library, and Strange was supposed to re-test you and teach you, whatever that meant.

Which meant you would be in the Sanctum on a regular basis…

…which also meant you could not only do some research on your own, you could visit every day.

They would let you visit, wouldn’t they? You didn’t know, but at least you could reassure yourself that the bond had nothing to do with your feelings for Bucky. They were as solid as ever, which was both a relief and a curse. His absence was already heavy in your chest, and it felt more akin to grief than just simply missing someone.

You got out of bed, seizing onto the determination to start, today, to help Bucky. It was New Year’s, after all. Time to get a fucking move on.

“Hey, Rogers. Wake up.” You nearly kicked his shoe but refrained, which was probably a good thing considering your voice alone startled him awake.

“Sorry.” He rubbed his face. “I must have dozed off.”

You ignored his apology.

“Do you want to help Bucky?”

“Huh?” He blinked, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. Apparently, Captain America was a slow waker. “Of course I do.”

“Good. I need to ask a favor.”

“What… kind of favor?”

“You’d just be carrying some things, that’s all.” Sheesh, what was with the nervous tone? What did he think you were going to ask? You folded your arms over your chest, resisting the urge to tap your foot against the floor. “I need to pack up my stuff and move it here. Strange is going to train me, or at least he should, and while he’s doing that, I’m going to do all the research I can into demon bonds. We’re going to free Bucky.”

“Whoa, slow down.” He rose out of the chair, forcing you back a small step. You’d forgotten how damn big he was. “What are you talking about? Didn’t Buck want you to move into his loft?”

“Yes,” you grit through your teeth. “But I need to be here. I’m sure Strange won’t mind if it means he gets to keep a closer eye on me. So, by the end of the day, I need to move all my clothes to the Sanctum and the rest into storage.”

Rogers rubbed the back of his head, one hand propped on his hip as he frowned at you.

“Aren’t you moving a little too fast?” He winced.  “I mean, I don’t know you, but shouldn’t you take some time to think about this?”

“To think about what? I need to be here and I don’t have the money to waste paying rent on an apartment I’m not using.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened. “Well, don’t worry about that. I can take care of your rent. It’s no trouble.”

Your eyes narrowed. Could have sworn you saw the sweat droplets form on his forehead, too.

“Did Bucky ask you to do that?”

His uncomfortable smile was all the answer you needed.

“I don’t mind, really.” His smile became more genuine and less nervous. “Got a backlog of pay from the US Government I wouldn’t know what to do with. I can afford it.”

“Listen, Rogers,” you said, trying to keep your voice even. “I appreciate the offer, I know you didn’t have to do that, but I’m fine now. You don’t need to take care of me.”

Hoping he got the picture, you turned and left the room you’d already designated as yours. You needed to run your plan past Strange or Wong, and then you could get started right away. That was the solution to both Bucky’s freedom and the painful effects of the severed bond. When you were distracted, your mind churning with ideas, it was easier to ignore the black hole occupying your chest.

Unfortunately, a second set of footsteps caught up with you, the owner of the voice a little sheepish.

“Bucky said you’d say as much.”

“Did he also tell you how stubborn and willful I am?” you responded sharply. “Maybe even threw in the word reckless?”

Rogers surprised you with a small laugh.

“Almost word for word.”

“Well, he’s not exactly one to talk,” you huffed. The man at your side just smiled wider.

“No, he’s not.”

“Good. Then you agree that Bucky is being an absolute idiot and something has to be done about it.”

“Hey, whoa.” A hand reached out to stop you from walking. You barely tolerated it and craned your head back to glare up at him. “Listen, I know you’re angry at Bucky, but…”

That was an understatement. He smiled sadly, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“A long time ago, someone much wiser than I am gave me a bit of advice,” Rogers said. “As much as you and I may not like it, this was Bucky’s decision. He deserves the dignity of his choice, even if it hurts. Even if we miss him.”

He looked away toward the high windows where winter light was streaming inside to illuminate the wood floor.

“I wish I’d had more time with him myself, but… there’s nothing we can do. He had his reasons, and it sounds to me like they were very good ones. It will take time, it’ll hurt, but he would want us to move on—“

You pushed Rogers’ hand off your shoulder. Not roughly, but not gently either, and he blinked down at you.

“I’m not giving up on Bucky,” you said, clenching your fists as you fought to keep your tone even. “I’ll never stop looking for a solution. No matter how long it takes.”

With a heated glare, you turned and left Rogers in the hallway, grinding your teeth. You’d thought Steve Rogers would have understood if anyone could have. But he didn’t, and you were truly alone.

***

You found Wong on the way to Strange’s office, and he agreed to take you there, not looking too surprised to find you practically stomping down the carpet runner.

Strange agreed to redo the tests as well as add on a few that were more “specialized,” whatever that meant. It involved more poking and prodding with arcane instruments, but you never complained. The discomfort was a small price to pay.

The results were the same as before: you were as magically skilled as a brick, and not the kind of brick that went into building magical sanctums, either. But the Ancient One’s words must have held enough clout for that not to matter, because Strange promised you would be training under Wong the next day.

Wong didn’t look too enthused about it, and you couldn’t blame him. Regarding the last disastrous meeting, you apologized for biting him, but he waved you off and said no apology was needed. Regardless, you felt terrible. Not terrible enough for Bucky to be put into a freezing chamber, but still, pretty awful.

As you suspected, Strange didn’t deny your request to move into the Sanctum. Wong gave him a considerable side-eye when he agreed, but you’d gotten what you wanted, and that’s all that mattered.

Steve Rogers, true to his word, helped move most of your belongings to your new room. Monster complained at being put in the carrier—he’d been acting difficult lately—but once you released him into your room he settled down. You wondered what that was about and found your answer when he took off and you chased him down the hallways, leading you to the room that held…

The two guards in front of the door were trying to catch Monster, but he slipped through their fingers like furry oil and scratched and yowled at the door. Tears stung your eyes as you scooped him up, holding him to your chest, and the guards looked extremely put-out.

“Can… can I see him?” You already knew the answer but were still disappointed when you received it.

“Only the Sorcerer Supreme and those with his approval may enter,” one of them said, eyeing Monster.

Your focus went to that heavy, stone door. Intricate glyphs were carved into its surface, and you wondered if even a hobgoblin could slip past them. It took every ounce of your willpower to step away, to leave Bucky all alone, you held Monster tightly as you walked back to your room.

“It’s okay,” you spoke softly into his grey fur. “We’ll be able to visit at some point. I’m sure. If the bond is suppressed, then what danger could there be?”

Danger or not, Strange wouldn’t let you see Bucky. “Not yet,” was his response when you asked. For now, according to him, you needed to focus on your lessons, which consisted of meditation, learning the combat stances (sorcerers could fight?), and learning to conjure.

The meditation part was the easiest, or would have been if your mind wasn’t a constant bundle of anxiety. The martial arts lessons were definitely more interesting, even if your body was laughably clumsy and uncoordinated. You saw other “students” around, but you always trained with Wong alone. When you asked why, he cited the fact you were at the same learning level as a 6 year-old. The hit to your ego made you stop asking about joining the others.

Days turned into a week. A week into two. You’d returned to work, a truly surreal experience especially with seeing Davin again. He was kind and spent more time with you than he used to, sitting with you during lunch and then walking you to your cab after work. A part of you wondered if he knew. If Bucky had asked him to keep an eye on you while he was gone.

You didn’t ask.

Steve Rogers didn’t stop by every day, but he was there at least twice a week. At first it was awkward—what were you supposed to talk about with an Avenger?—but then he began to share history. Tales of his and Bucky’s youth and all the ways they got into trouble. It was through your common interest in Bucky that you began to warm up to each other, and he never had a shortage of stories when it came to his childhood friend.

Sometimes, he would get this yearning expression, and you were uncomfortably reminded that he and Bucky had been much closer than simple friends. You wondered if Rogers knew that you knew.

It was normal for a person to compare themselves to a partner’s ex. You weren’t sure how to feel being compared to Captain America, except the fact you couldn’t compare at all, and Bucky had definitely downgraded. You weren’t a super soldier with biceps the size of melons.

Regardless, Rogers’ company was appreciated and comforting, unlike when it had been simply tolerated before. But by week two, you were no longer coping as well as you once were. Perhaps Wong noticed during your lessons, because when you asked him once again if you could see Bucky, he had a different answer for you.

You stood outside the door, nerves tingling as the two sorcerers on guard duty unlocked the room with some complicated hand gestures. The door swung open heavily on its hinges, and you stepped forward, fists pressed against your thighs.

The room hadn’t changed, still dim and creepy with glyphs running along the walls. The iron chamber was where you’d last seen it, lit from within with a pale, ghostly light. It made the man inside appear barely real, darkness in the hollows in his cheeks and cast by the shadows of his horns.

“No touching,” one sorcerer barked when you reached out toward the lid. You retracted your hand, twisting your finger anxiously as you looked back at the guard.

“Can I have a moment alone?”

“No.”

You turned back to the chamber, your chest aching with the gnawing emptiness that never left. It was worse in Bucky’s presence, but it was worth it just to see him again. To know he was still alive, even when it didn’t feel that way.

There was so much you wanted to say to him, but even a whisper could be overheard in this place. So you thought back to the way you’d communicated with Bucky in the demon realm, a place where you’d had no voice but he’d heard you anyway.

Bucky, if you can hear me… I want you to know I’m so sorry.

He didn’t stir. You hadn’t really expected him to. You should have felt silly to stand there, talking to yourself in your own mind, but you didn’t. If anything, it felt like praying.

I’m going to find a way to set you free. From the bond, from this prison. And then you can go wherever you want and do whatever you want. You don’t… don’t even have to stay with me. You can be with Steve again, if that’s what makes you happy.

You swallowed down the painful lump in your throat and pushed past the heavy weight on your heart.

How many times have I told you I’d never give up on you? I meant it then and I mean it now. Just… hold on a little longer. I’ll figure something out. I’ll do whatever I have to so you can come back. So you can have a life you deserve. It’s the least I can do for… for… This is all my fault, Bucky. The bond, the time-loop, you breaking your deal with the Ancient One. It should be me in there, not you.

You took a steadying breath and blinked away the tears. Tears meant that you had conceded, and you weren’t ready to give up on him. Not now, not ever.

I’ll fix this, Bucky. I will.

I have to.

You stayed as long as you could, even as you shivered and grew colder in the chamber’s presence. It was constructed of thick metal and appeared air-tight, and yet, the longer you stood there the further the temperature dropped. By the time the guards informed you your time was up, you were trembling and your teeth clattered together.

You really, really hoped Bucky couldn’t feel the cold.

***

The resolve to stay away from Bucky’s apartment didn’t last much longer. That night, you informed Wong that you would be spending the night in the penthouse. You used the excuse that you wanted to make sure everything was in order. Maybe Bucky had some plants he needed watered, or something.

Wong just shrugged and said you weren’t a prisoner and could come and go as you pleased. Of course, that’s what he said, but you’d noticed the robed sorcerers trying to blend into the crowds as you got in and out of the cab for work. Bucky had been right when he said the wizards didn’t have parking, and you’d been forced to keep your car at Bucky’s building once you broke your old apartment lease.

You didn’t mind that the sorcerers were watching you. It was comforting in a way, even if a large part of you was still angry at Strange. You were pissed, but your brief encounter with the Ancient One had convinced you that the sorcerers weren’t malicious or evil. They seemed to be trying their best to protect the world from magical threats, even when their efforts fell short.

Tonight though, you wanted to be alone. Away from sorcerers and magic and iron chambers that looked too much like coffins.

After the taxi drove you to the building, the desk clerk greeted you as if he’d been expecting your arrival. You stepped inside the elevator and tried to relax as it carried you to the highest floor. You were exhausted down to your bones; maybe staying the night wasn’t a bad idea after all.

The place was exactly the same as Bucky had left it. There wasn’t even any dust aside from the snow that had gathered on the outside of the clock face windows. It was still too damn cold, and you pulled your coat tighter around you, slowly turning 180 degrees to gather in the large space.

Your old stuffed animal that served as your animus was nowhere to be seen, and you hoped it was someplace safe. Knowing Bucky, it was. Still, you wondered what would happen to it now that the bond was silenced. Would it revert to an ordinary toy, or would it still contain your metaphorical heart?

You weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer.

Pulling off your jacket and shoes, you crawled under the soft covers of Bucky’s bed, stretching out on the silken sheets. That was one thing you’d noticed about his bed. Maybe Bucky really enjoyed soft things, but he didn’t seem like the type to indulge himself. He’d said something about heightened senses; perhaps his skin had been too sensitive for ordinary cotton?

The curiosity in your thoughts tumbled away as you buried yourself into Bucky’s pillows, still strong with his earthy, musky scent. You missed him so much, and the magnitude hadn’t hit you until that moment. You hugged the pillow tight to your chest and allowed the hole in your chest to ache.

You drifted off like that, holding onto the pillow like a lifeline. It could have been minutes or hours later when your eyes snapped open. The hairs on your nape stood straight and your heart raced in a panicked beat. A stench permeated the air, familiar and sickening. Like rotten eggs.

You dashed across the bed, but not fast enough; a hand closed around your ankle and yanked you backwards. You yelled, clawing into the sheets as you were dragged across the mattress, and you hit the ground hard enough to lose your breath.

The face hovering above you was one you thought you’d never see again. Sickly green eyes glowed with malice, and the flower petal-like appendances of its face pulled back to reveal rows of neon green teeth. A mist the same radioactive color as its teeth leaked from its esophagus, and you covered your mouth as you screamed and kicked it in the shin.

The Alp gave a deep, terrifying howl, and you crawled across the floor and then scrambled to your feet.

Where was your phone? Your bag? It was dark, you couldn’t see. You clipped your leg against the couch and fell onto the hardwood floor, banging your knees.

You could hear it coming, its stink in your nostrils even if you couldn’t see it. Your phone was on the nightstand next to the bed, you couldn’t go for it.

Gritting your teeth, nauseous from the smell and the adrenaline, you dashed toward your only hope left: the elevator.

You didn’t make it even halfway. A hand grabbed you by the hair and pulled you back. You cried out, clawing at the fingers holding onto you, but the Alp didn’t relent.

Its other arm grabbed you around the waist, and that’s when the world tilted on its axis. The room spun, colors shifted and glowed together, and your stomach dropped as if you were on a roller coaster. Your surroundings blurred, and for the flash of a second, you saw red dunes and smelled burning, sulfurous air. The shape of the mountain range in the distance, the multiple moons hanging in the dusky sky, you knew them. Knew them intimately because you’d watched them for forty-eight years.

Before you could take another breath the world shifted again, and you were in a cold, dim room lit only by electric lamps and caged light bulbs.

You tore yourself out of the Alp’s grip, staggered and fell again, gasping as you hit the cold stone flooring.

You ignored the pain and cold temperatures as you scurried away from the demon. It didn’t lunge for you; it stared at something just above your head.

Before you could turn around to see for yourself, something jabbed into your shoulder, and pain shot through your body as your muscles seized and your nerves caught fire.

The flow of electricity stopped, and you collapsed without another word or show of resistance. You could barely breathe, your vision swimming. The echo of someone’s footsteps passed by your head, and then a man was speaking, his voice soft and accented.

“Stupid creature,” he said, leaning down in front of you. A soft touch at your neck, almost gentle. No matter how much you tried to focus, his face remained blurry. “Couldn’t even follow simple instructions. And now look what I had to do.”

The man rose to his feet and left your field of vision. The last thing you heard before slipping away was the crackle of a cattle prod and the broken, tortuous wailing of the Alp.

Next Chapter

[talldarkandroguesome]

5th of Frostfall, Tirdas

Finally we came to place where Seryn looked about. Perhaps it was the towering stones that marked the way for her, but we turned sharply and began our way along the Foyada, taking one of the branches just a ways beyond.

I do not wish to disclose any further details, that is already too much to identify the secret, sacred path. I shall say no more of it.

Our journey was slowed significantly by the increase in volcanic activity under our feet. It was bad enough that we had to stop and watch for falling stones. At one point Seryn actually made a shield, protecting us from a bolder that rolled down the side of the mountain. It was clear that the activity was increasing. It was as Tel and the others had warned. It was clear that most animals had sensed the increase themselves, for there was little animal life to be found anywhere near our path, save for the occasional shadow of a passing cliff strider.

I must say, Seryn has a keen ability to avoid cliff striders , something I asked her about as the light began to fade around us. She laughed and told me that perhaps it was that they were drawn to my scent of my incessant talking. I gasped, surprised at such words, but she quickly dissolved into a giggle and I found myself caught completely unexpected in her jest. I laughed myself, so surprised by the turn and I was glad for the break in what had been a lull in conversation as we walked.

After that, she was more jovial. At least until our upward climb drew near to where there appeared to be a cave.

Above, we could hear the wise woman shouting for someone to stay back.

We ran to find her fending off some skafin, of all fetching things! We defeated them with little issue and ran to the wise woman’s side, checking that she was alright.

She told us she was, that Azura had protected her until we arrived, just as predicted. I looked at Seryn, but she just smiled at me. I do not know if she was aware of the secret or if she simply was glad that we were where we were supposed to be.

Then the wise woman stopped, as though hearing something, so Seryn and I kept silent. Then she spoke, as if someone else were there and said she understood. I realized then who she was talking to as soon as she said, my Lady.

When she turned to me and said I should follow her, I felt my face flush in anticipation, my heart racing. As we headed towards the mouth of the cavern, the wise woman told me that the Queen of the Night Sky asked that I help the wise woman in coming to the correct decision regarding a claim. I could hardly believe my ears.

I asked, trying to contain my excitement, if it was regarding Chodala’s claim to be the Nerevarine. She told me I was correct and that clearly my insight as a diplomat would be needed. Although the Red Exiles had been convinced of Chodala’s claim, the wise woman said she was far more uncertain. But there was more she had to consider, for she feared that if she opposed him there would come retribution from the Red Exiles that could well harm all the Velothi in Ald’ruhn, and possibly beyond as well. 

As we entered the cave, I was struck by the fact that this was a far more ornate shrine. Instead of the usual statue of Azura, stood with Her arms spread wide and the moon and star sitting upon each palm, this statue had Her seated, Her hands together, palms up, held downward. She appeared more to be offering than Her usual show of radiance. Her face appeared serene and kind. Besides Her were two statues of moon and star. At Her one knee, was a small pond, besides which was an altar covered with offerings.

I pulled myself from the awe that overcame me, I had a duty. A sacred one at that. So I asked the wise woman about her options. We spoke of different outcomes that could come from her decision. Finally, we agreed upon an option that would be the most beneficial, it would stop Chodala while allowing the wise woman to remain impartial. It might have consequences for me, but I assured her that I would be far happier having violence directed towards one House mer, than to risk harm coming to her people.

So she explained that if I could find from the spirits of the failed incarnates what brought about their failure, then those flaws could be compared to Chodala’s ambitions. It would be enough to prove that he was headed towards his own doom. His failure. Then she would be allowed to refute him.

I was thrilled and a bit overwhelmed by everything happening around me. Azura had spoken of me. I was in a sacred shrine, the likes of which I had never seen or heard of. I was going to be asked to speak with the failed incarnations of Nerevar, something I only knew a little about. I was going to be present to dispute an Ashkhan’s claim at Nerevarine. There was so much! It was unreal. I was in this pivotal moment in history. Only, instead of simply trying to help the hero of the story to reach the final stage to defeat evil, here I was actually a player in the outcome of history!

Despite Naryu’s jabs about my being hero, I have never felt that was a role designed for me. Yet, here I was, stepping into a place where likely no one outside of the wise women who maintained the shrine, ever entered. And Azura had asked me to do so.

Surreal is the only word I can think of that begins to describe the feeling.

The wise woman showed me how to summon the spirits and then bade me return to Ald’ruhn when I was done, for she needed to be there when Chodala returned from his meditations. Then she left me to do as I was told.

Making sure to carefully follow every instruction, I summoned the spirits of those thought to be Lord Nerevar’s reincarnations. Then, one by one, I saw the ethereal images of each of those great Velothi heroes who had claimed to be the Nerevarine before, rise up from where they had been laid to rest around Azura’s statue.

I took up ink, quill, and parchment, and I wrote down all that they said. Their stories, in their own words. I made sure to spare no details, writing as fast as I could, even when my hand cramped and my finger tips grew numb. This was far too important to let discomfort stop me.

I thanked each of them for their wisdom. I felt satisfied that I would be able to present these sacred stories, wisdom from those who had experienced it themselves, before the wise woman and Chodala. Perhaps Chodala would even see the folly of his ways and be convinced to continue on his great path in a way more befitting a unifier.

As I made to leave, a voice stopped me.

It was Azura, calling me to speak with Her.

I knelt before the great statue and kowtowed before it. I felt warmth and comfort from Her voice. The void where my soul once lay, instantly filled.

She offered me council before I went to refute Chodala’s claim. Offered me the wisdom in how best to present what I had learned and pressed upon me the importance of succeeding in this endeavor. Further, She told me that it was the staff that was making Chodala so bold and reckless and to prevent further destruction, he must be made to part with with. That he is not the Nerevarine.

That last part could leave no doubt. Chodala was clearly being led astray by the power in the staff. I had wondered by who or what, until I recalled the Skafin who attacked the wise woman. Clearly Chodala had made a deal with the Prince of Bargains. It was something to consider as we took our next steps. Perhaps he could be convinced that he should not try using Daedric pacts to fulfill his ambitions.

Before I left, Azura told me that I should assist her champion, which of course I agreed to. She named Seryn as that mer, a friend to all the Velothi people. I kowtowed again, pressing my forehead upon the cool ground. I swore that I would do so and that I would protect her, even should it cost me several lives.

I felt a pleased feeling all around me and my heart swelled with joy.

Then the radiating feeling began to dim and fade, until I was left alone in the cavern.

As I raised my head, the cavern was dimmer that before and I felt wetness streak my face. As I touched my cheeks, I felt tears. I felt the blessing that was given to me. And I knew my task.

I headed out of the cave and found Seryn waiting for me. She was deep in meditation, but looked up as I approached. She asked me if I had found what we needed. I said that I had and as the moons rose in the sky, I read the words of each of the three failed incarnates to her.

She thought in silence after I had finished. I remained beside her, content in knowing that I had a part to play. Seryn was going to succeed. She would convince her brother with evidence he could not deny. He would be forced to see reason. Then we could explain the gravity of consequence that came with his staff, a consequence that threatened the very people he wanted to unite. If Vivec’s power got too low, Red Mountain would certainly erupt, killing everyone that lived near, Velothi and Housemer alike.

Seryn spoke up and said she would need to sleep on everything and plan our next move. I told her I was hers to command, she only needed to say the word.

She laughed and told me that she was another diplomat, not the Ashkhan. I bowed and played her servant as we stood and gathered our things. I wonder if she understands how truly amazing she is? Does she know yet that she is Azura’s chosen?

It is not my place to say. If she does not know now, she will soon. I am sure of that.

We teleported back to Ald’ruhn and Seryn retired for the night. Normally I would go and sit with the rest of the tribe and drink and sing and enjoy the company, but I felt the weight of what was to come and decided that sleep would be a better use of time.

I only hope that we help Chodala to see wisdom.

[jeonqukie]

SOMEBODY ELSE / 02 ( ALT ).

SYNOPSIS / After years of working up the courage to confess his feelings for you, Min Yoongi decides to give up and move on from the unrequited position he has put himself in. However, when you discover his veiled attraction towards you, you dwell on what could have been. You find yourself ready to reciprocate the same sentiment for him, only you’re too late when he reveals he has already found someone else. Consequently, you’re lured into a series of meaningless and warped encounters from the one person you swore to avoid.

FEATURING / Min Yoongi; brief appearances by Kim Seokjin, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, and Jeon Jungkook.

GENRES / Angst, romance, mature, friends with benefits, and unrequited love.

WARNINGS / This chapter contains alcohol consumption, graphic language, mentions of sexual activity, mentions and acts of infidelity, and other mature themes.

WORD COUNT / 4.2k.

TABLE OF CONTENTS / To be redirected and get the latest on the story, click on the table of contents.

NOTES / Because part 3 of somebody else will take some time to write, I decided to post one of the original ideas I had thought of for part 2. I still really like this version a lot, but I feel like I wasn’t going to go the direction I wanted to. So please enjoy this alternate version while I still plot out part 3! In another world, this is what I had planned out for this love triangle. Feedback is always appreciate. Big reminder that I am forever grateful that you took your time to read this! Thank you very much for taking your time to read this. (つ≧▽≦)つ

© All rights reserved to jeonqukie. All or portions of my work may not be reproduced, distributed, modified, or used in any way whatsoever without my permission.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and our non-binary friends,” All it took was one step inside of Ernie’s newly renovated bar to hear the particularly flamboyant introduction from the opposite side of the room. “We are pleased to announce the arrival of the new division head of advertising, YN.”

Your cheeks ignited at Seokjin’s grandiose greeting. The rest of the gang was evidently hammered from the boisterous cheers and praises. Nevertheless, it was nearly impossible to avoid the incessant stares from other bar attendees when your feet hastily walk towards the other side of the room.

“Ernie, another round of shots over here, please!” Michelle’s request could be heard from a mile away. You began to strip out of the beige blazer that matched your skirt off of your body only to reveal your white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up all the way to your elbows.

“I told you guys to get started with the drinks - not to get fucking hammered.”

“Sweetheart, the moment you gave us the approval, we couldn’t help ourselves.” You were seated in between Hoseok and Michelle, trying to make yourself comfortable inside the semi-circular booth. On the other end was Jimin and Seokjin who were awaiting patiently for the new round of drinks to appear on the table.

“Plus, it’s your fault for being late.”

“It’s not really my fault that I had to stay an hour back at the office. There were just a couple of paperwork I needed to complete.”

Could you imagine what your boss would have said if you refused to stay back at the office after you recently earned your promotion? It would have led to her doubting her decision to promote you. So you had no choice but to go along with the flow.

Frankly, it didn’t take long for you to earn your position. It may sound immodest of you to assume that, but you’ve only been working for a year and a half and you were already the division head in advertising. It’s funny how a year and a half ago, you were merely just an intern, fighting for a permanent position in the company.

The glasses of spirits soon arrive at your table, Hoseok captures one and placed the minuscule glass across from where you sat. “Alright, everybody, grab a shot because I shall propose a toast -“ But at the corner of your eye, your main focal point happened to be at the front door where he stood; dark mane and pale face when he enters the vicinity with the now familiar, Tiffany.

“Oh, shit, Yoongi and Tiffany are here! Okay, now, it’s a real party!” The sputtering slurs began erupting out of Seokjin’s mouth and all eyes immediately dart towards you.

You weren’t just a mere intern, struggling to find her place in the company a year and a half ago. You were just as lost and confused when it came to your own personal life. You vividly remember the morning Yoongi confronted you of your feelings - how you interrogated him of his true emotions with the both of you coming to the conclusion that there was no happy ending for the both of you.

The circle was in an awkward position for a while, unsure of whether you and him can be in the same room. But for the sake of everyone’s sanity, you were forced to make up with him. Well, you didn’t want to say you were forced to make up with him.

Your friends were too fed up to deal with the cumbersome conversations, so Hoseok and Seokjin had unwillingly bring you together to resolve the predicament you both found yourselves in.

To be honest, you missed him a lot. Persistently trying to avoid him for a good two months was draining, especially when he would be with Tiffany. You were quite surprised she hadn’t caught onto the dynamics of the clique after nearly being with Yoongi for months. You felt an ache in your chest every time she seemed to tag along with him. You even remembered the gut-wrenching moment when you overheard from Jimin that Yoongi manage to convince Tiffany to move in with him.

Suddenly, you found yourself back with Taehyung - in your eyes, he was a saving grace. He was constantly there to numb and alleviate you from the pain. You were always frustrated, absolutely depressed and sought for the comfort you yearned for. For some reason, you were okay every time - as Michelle would say, he’d fuck the sorrow out of your poor soul.

You recovered from the pain and your naive mind believed that you were immune to it.

You thought that everything was fine; you focused on work, focused on rekindling the same friendship with Yoongi and you even ignited a new one with Tiffany herself. She was genuinely sweet, caring, and selfless when it came to Yoongi. Soon enough, you were getting comfortable with the idea that, perhaps, the universe was right - maybe you and Yoongi were better off as friends.

Of course, that wasn’t the case.

Oh, how you were so wrong.

Just a month ago, you remembered how everybody gathered over to their apartment for a movie night and Yoongi made the announcement that he’s asked for Tiffany’s hand in marriage and she inevitably said yes. 

Who wouldn’t say no to someone like him?

Living your life so normally, thinking that things have gotten better was just the naivety coming to slap you right across the face.

The pang of agony was unbearable. You weren’t so sure how you survived the two hours in their apartment with their radiating, saccharine faces.

Not even Taehyung could save you from this one.

You recalled the moment you and Michelle arrived home - how you stampeded over to the bathroom when you began to regurgitate all of the nauseating pain at the pits of your stomach. You were no where near drunk - just utterly miserable.

The sting of your eyes came crawling back to your eyes when the large diamond ring shone right across your face. With Yoongi and Tiffany at the end of the table, Seokjin looked at you straight in the eye, awaiting for you to raise your shot glass once more.

“Earth to YN, I need you to have your glass raised up.” You apologized hastily and raised the glass hesitantly, blushing in embarrassment when everyone had managed to catch you in a state of otherworldliness. “As I was saying, a big fucking congratulations to YN.” It was conspicuous that Seokjin was absolutely inebriated and you savored his demeanor; he was so carefree and loose. “And, also, to our Yoongi who, in a month, will no longer be a fucking bachelor.”

Everyone raised their glass yet you remained… paralyzed.

The clinks of the glass against each other notified you to take the shot into your lips and you swallowed it, feeling the stinging burn coating your throat.

With your eyes pinched closed, you open your eyes only to see Yoongi directly at you. For a split second, he saw the slightest unravel of your guard. He could feel his own chest swell when he notices the way Michelle’s arms slither around your shoulders, whispering words of comfort into your ear before your lips unwontedly twitch onto a discomforting grin. Your eyes glistened underneath what little lighting the bar possessed and when both your eyes lock onto each other, he can see the light in your eyes losing its spark ever so slowly.

You made the announcement that you will be using the restroom and that you should be back with another order of drinks. Scooting your way out of the booth, Yoongi’s eyes follow to where you hastily amble towards the women’s restroom. He tried his best to ignore the way you felt about the situation. He knew that if he factored you in to every decision he made, he wouldn’t be able to progress his relationship with her.

However, when the words came slipping out of somebody else’s mouth that he would no longer be an emotionally available man, it dawned on him how soon everything seemed and he tries his best not to dwell on the fact that there was a slim possibility that he was regretting the decisions he made himself.The night was still relatively young. It was close to midnight, but your feet was growing painfully exhausted from being at the dance floor all night. In order to avoid the newly engaged couple, Michelle and Jimin were trying their best to aid you in distracting yourself from your pain and, hopefully, avoiding you from a really bad mistake.

In this case, they feared that you would drunkenly dial your unofficial bootycall.

But Taehyung has made it clear that it’s best if he strayed away from you… because there was only so much he can do to help you forget Yoongi. Every time he had the chance to see you, it gave him more confirmation that you were anything but over Yoongi. Despite his efforts of making you forget him, he realizes that you were utterly in love with somebody else and he can’t change a thing about it.

Michelle held your phone so close to her while Jimin spun you in circles all night. You yearned to have the phone back to your safety, in case your boss called you for an emergency, but they knew it was wise of them to keep it as far away from you. But they had their limits, too.

“That’s the last song, I’m beat.” Jimin surrenders in defeat which is quite surprising for someone like him. He had so much energy and he was usually the last one off of the dance floor. But you can see from corner of your booth how Tiffany nuzzled ever so lovingly onto Yoongi’s neck when they whisper to each other and your eyes dart back to Jimin who was ambling over towards the bar along with Michelle and you were left stranded in the middle of the floor awkwardly.

It wasn’t until you feel the warmth of somebody else’s body against yours. You spun around to meet eyes with a much taller male; his hair slightly parted with the ends just ending at the top of his brows. His hooded doe eyes stare right down at you with his naturally pink lips curling onto a flirtatious grin.

“H - hi,” You were breathless and taken aback by his handsome face when the song switches over to a much slower rhythm, introducing a romantic guitar at the background. “I - uh, I’m sorry. You must have me mistaken for somebody else.” However, he shakes his head when his large palm envelopes your wrist gently, urging you to slither his arms around his shoulders.

“I saw your friends abandon you and you looked… lonely, so I decided to come and save the day.” He chuckles darkly when you oblige to his request. The romantic guitar playing in the background is not helping you establishing personal space with the newfound stranger. But you weren’t necessarily protesting against it; it was just a little too forward for your liking especially when you couldn’t see your friends in sight. “Plus, you have some serious dance moves."

“Saving me won’t do anything.” It was a depressing thought and you were already biting back the tears that shimmered your eyes when you looked onto the stranger’s eyes. “There’s really no point in saving damaged goods.” You concluded your self-deprecating statements with a dark chuckle, cocking your head to the side to see just how he would react. “Thank you though; I learned from both of my friends who abandoned me. I think you should be dancing with them instead of me." He swipes his tongue across his mouth when he guides you to the rhythm of the song; hips grinding and swaying together, bodies getting closer and closer to each other.

“What’s your name?” He whispers ever so softly into your ear when his large hand is placed right at the small of your back, right above your ass.

“YN.” You answer him breathlessly. Oddly enough, you find yourself being so responsive to his touch - to his voice and to his requests. “I think it’s fair you give me yours?”

“Jungkook.” He sighs before looking you straight into your eyes. “Whoever hurt you,” he begins before his the palm of his hand comes to cup your cheek, thumb circling over the cheek. “… is a real fucking idiot.”

Your laugh travels so far through the room and Yoongi reactively searches for your location. He watches you nuzzle onto the warmth of the stranger’s palm, feeling the world move around you. You were reminded just how out of tune you were out of your normal self. The buzzed brain clearly did not function well when it came to making smart decisions which is why you found yourself caressing his cheek as well, only to have your thumb swiping against his bottom lip. Instinctively, Yoongi’s digits grip around Tiffany’s waist and she squeals, reminding him just how ticklish she was. But his eyes remained fixated on your dancing body, how close you seemed to be against another man.

“I see what you’re trying to do.” You begin your comment before you slowly peel yourself out of the much taller male. “You see this… girl and it’s so obvious she’s broken and it’s so easy to get a good fuck.” You sigh before your digits run themselves through your tousled mane. “You put on this spiel that you can make her feel good, but you can’t. You try to get her hopes up and we all know how this ends.”

His eyes transform into more melancholic ones and he shakes his head before he takes a safe step closer to your body. At the corner of your eye, you can sense the presence of your friends. Suddenly, you can feel several eyes on you, observing how you stood your ground. “You’re wrong, but if that’s how you truly feel, I won’t convince you otherwise."

Your perfectly sculpted brows knit together in confusion when you see him take another step closer towards you, but you remain frozen to the floors. From the booth, Yoongi can see your mouth moving; they were poutier than ever - the bottom sticked out so much when you spoke to the stranger across you. He watches the other male tower over you, caressing your soft cheeks and he fists his hand momentarily before he watches you nod to his statement.

Suddenly, Yoongi observes the way you step closer onto the other male’s body; how his arm wrapped around your waist while you had yours propped over his shoulder. It’s been a while since he felt the nauseating boil at the pit of his stomach; he was envious of the man who had you all to himself at the dance floor. His eyes never missed a second of you swaying your hips to the pattern of the romantic guitar in the background, the way the male lured you to press your smaller physique onto his.

When the song ends, Jungkook whispers something into your ear before he barely brushes his petals right above yours. It ghosted over your dry ones and it took every ounce of self-resistance for Jungkook to step away from you and you both bid your goodbyes only to watch the lust driven look on your face direct itself towards where Yoongi sat uncomfortably. Tiffany and Hoseok were having a conversation about cleaning supplies and he could careless about which bleach did the best job of ridding of stains. However, Yoongi, a newly engaged man, found himself standing up from the booth only to examine you from head to toe. He observes the way your chest rose up and down heavily, frustrated and anxious to have what should be hers.

His eyes doesn’t disconnect from yours and you can’t help but swipe your tongue over to wet your petals, tasting the dried alcohol off of your lips and a hint of his strawberry chapstick. He wasn’t aware how hot the entire vicinity seemed to be. In addition to that, there was a minor strain over at his ripped, skinny jeans. When he mentally curses to himself, you begin your exit out of the bar, desperate to breathe in the cool air to relieve you off your non-fulfillments. When the night’s breeze attack your body, the muffled noises from the bar notifies you that you’re absolutely and utterly alone. The cruel reality of the thought finally edged you to your breaking point and you found yourself leaning against the wall, hugging yourself in the process of sobbing. When the doors open once more, revealing that Yoongi had followed you outside, clearly concerned for your well-being.

“What are you doing out here?” You inquire before you begin wiping every single tear that came streaming down your cheeks.

“I’d like to ask you the same question, to be honest.”

“I just needed some fresh air.” You quip bitterly before you sniffle to yourself, swallowing hard when he examines your current state. Hair disheveled from dancing for a decent hour yet your outfit seemed to be well in tact. The white dress shirt still tucked beautifully onto the waist of your beige skirt and some black tights to complement the outfit. But your eyes were too broken to comprehend; they were red and absolutely shattered, yet they shimmered in the night light. When he sees fresh tears staining your cheeks, he desperately seeks to wipe them off of you.

“A month, huh?”

Yoongi’s digits remain frozen midair when he attempt to wipe the tears off of your stained cheeks. He swallows hard, knowing very well where the conversation is leading to. All he could do is nod his head once and drop the hand to his side while takes a few step back, reminding himself that he cannot offer the same comfort to you anymore.

“Well, congratulations, Yoongs. I always thought Michelle would be the first one to get married - even Hoseok or something.” Yoongi was having a difficult time comprehending how you were still joking despite the pain he had put you through.

“Stop the bullshit, YN. I know you’re not okay with this.”

The uneasiness of his voice had your heart racing and your eyes disconnected from his; not wanting to read his mind - or try to read his mind. With pursed lips, the silence gave you a moment to remember everything - all of the pain he has put you through. Alcohol was running through both of your veins and you feel your hands ball into fists.

“But there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“From what I heard you’ve been fucking Taehyung.” He scoffs and, suddenly, you were no longer sad.

“So?”

“Well, how’s that working out for you, YN? How is fucking your ex-boyfriend going to make things any better between you and I?” You clenched your jaw and you swallowed hard, trying to understand why he was so frustrated with you. “And then you’re… just… sleeping with random strangers at the club now?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, c’mon, Hoseok tells me everything.”

“No - no! You have no right to discuss this with me. You have no right to judge me.” You seethed, stepping closer to his frame. “Just because you’re doing so much better at moving on from whatever the fuck we had, you have no right to judge the way I’m trying to cope with everything when this is all your fault.”

He scoffs bitterly and you pace yourself away from him, running your digits through your mane, wanting to rid of all frustrations out of your body immediately.

“I - I put my feelings to the side! I’ve withstand every single thing concerning you and Tiffany. For fuck’s sake, Yoongi, I even befriended her for your sake…. just to get back to the way things were.” The contrast of the cold breeze on your skin and the hot tears streaming down your cheeks earned an eruption of goosebumps through your skin. Your teeth shattered when you spoke and you swallowed the filter you once possessed. You were mindlessly speaking out loud at this point.

“And, for a while, I thought everything was okay. I’ve accepted that maybe this can work out - that i can move on from you because… I was so fucking happy to see you happy even if it wasn’t with me.”

You chuckled to yourself, reminiscing back to your naivety.

“Then you proposed and that’s when I knew I’m… not even fucking close to getting over you.” His eyes never leave yours and you can see how hard he was gritting his teeth because of how prominent his jaw was. He held his breath as he studies your tired features. The bags underneath your eyes stood out from your skin. Eyes blood shot from your tears and the alcohol - from the pain.

“I don’t know how you did it though. You’ve seen me with Taehyung all those months and you never said a single thing about it.” You started and he watches how your eyes are just searching for the right answer as if you were begging him to give you the answer. “You never did a single thing about it.”

It was his turn to get frustrated with your words. He opens his mouth expecting to raise his voice on you, but with the way you were sobbing, he chooses to calm himself further.

“There was nothing I can do, YN. You were with somebody else.”

“And look how the tables have turned.” You sighed, nibbling onto the bottom of your lip. Tears stopped trailing down your cheeks and you took deep breaths to calm your beating heart. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I’m not over you, Yoongi.” Your voice is small… so small that you feel yourself shrink in size when you amble yourself closer to him. “We both… had the chance to be together, but… we just - we didn’t happen.”

Silence over takes the conversation once more.

“Do you ever think of what could have happened?”

His query catches you off guard and your eyes meet his and you nod once. You inhale deeply, smelling his cologne and the alcohol exuding from his skin. “All the time it’s fucking unhealthy.” You were surprised to hear him chuckle softly to himself and you fold your arms, preventing yourself from doing something you may regret.

“I keep thinking what it would be like to hold your hand.” At the tip of your fingers, you feel the itch desperate to feel the searing heat of his skin against yours. “Every time you whisper something to her, I just… think what it would feel like to have your lips brush up against my ears.” Your cheeks burned when you confess your hidden emotions to him. “I see the way you kiss her; you have your hand caressing her cheek, fingers crawling to the back of her neck and you… sort of cradle her head while you just… kiss her and…”

All sorts of breathing stops when a hot palm frustratingly caresses your cheek, crawling gracelessly across the back of your neck to force your head to tilt towards the towering male. A pair of soft petals crash onto your own when he inevitably caves in and hungrily captures your bottom lip. You responded immediately to his actions, arms slithering around his neck when he firmly pushes you to cold wall, digits tugging at the roots of your hair when his tongue intrudes itself inside your mouth. You savored the heat of his tongue inside your mouth, so you feel your tongue collide against his. He tastes of mint and whiskey and you were addicted to the taste of his mouth.

When the sounds of exiting clientele leaves the bar, you are alerted that this was… wrong.

Yoongi was kissing you.

Yoongi is with Tiffany. You keep chanting it in your head and it took every ounce of willpower for your palms to unfold and push his strong physique off of yours, but you remain frozen underneath his touch.

Instead, he stops. He releases you slowly, lips leaving yourself gently. His hands, however, remain glued to your stained cheeks and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

“We can’t do that anymore.”

You separate your heated bodies away from each other, experiencing a multitude of emotions all at once. There was a satisfaction deep within you at the realization that you were not the only one suffering from the struggle to get over somebody else.

Who knew one single kiss from him was all it took to realize that you wanted more?

“I — we should forget that ever happened.” You licked your lips once more, the guilt clearly painted across your visage and you tried your hardest not to break down when Yoongi exhales out slowly and realizes the immorality of your actions.

He stays absolutely quiet with his lips parted.

“Yoongi, say something. I’m doing this for your sake.” You try to shake him back to reality, worried he might make a choice he sincerely regrets. “Yoongi, you’re engaged… to Tiffany. You’re marrying Tiffany. Please go back inside and be with her.”

He nods his head once and shakes his head, realizing the repercussions of his actions. “We — we can’t say anything.”

“I won’t say anything.”

He purses his lips into a thin line, deciding to amble back to the entrance of the bar.

“YN,” He starts before he opens the door. “I — I’m sorry."

[delirious-and-slightly-murderous]

For the WIP ask game: please tell us something about Procrastinating Painter and exasperated but horny manager?

Hi Anon!😊 So glad you asked about this one.

So this is, at its core, a character study. 

A little tidbit of information about me: I am a master procrastinator. And not only when it comes to writing but in all aspects of my life too. I am lazy. If I can do it later, I will do it later. And I'll keep pushing it back as much as I can until I can't anymore. Thanks to this I've become a master at finishing projects with very little time and a deadline hanging like a sword of Damocles over my head. I work best under pressure. That's why I sometimes lose interest in my fics so easily. If I don't have a deadline it's very hard for me to get stuff done.

Soooooo, all this to say that one day, while I was despairing over my WIPs I started thinking about the different ways an artist or creator can deal with procrastination. And then, because every idea I get now mostly concerns or can be applied to Berlermo, I said to myself: But what if Andrés was a master procrastinator like me?

And BAM!

This thing was born. (Also I find it kinda ironic and hilarious that a character study in procrastination ended up as a WIP, don't you agree?).

So the basic idea is that Andrés is a moderately known and successful painter. He's not as successful as he could be because he's very particular and picky with his work and who he works for. So he only paints when he wants to and what he wants to. Which would be fine except that he is a procrastinator so his work is scarce.

Enter Martín, who is Andrés' best friend/agent and kinda friend with benefits. He is the one in charge of making sure Andrés gets stuff done even if the man in question does not want to. This means that Martín lives in a constant state of awe at Andrés' genius and talent, and also exasperation because of his laziness and inability to do what he's told. Also he is very much in love with Andrés and hates himself because of it.

So the fic in itself would cover the span of a month while Martín tries to get Andrés to work on an important commision for a famous gallery. From him we would see his struggle with perceived unrequited feelings for a man he feels he cannot fully come to understand. Andrés would procrastinate and we would see all his process and struggle with it. Until a couple days before the exhibition when Martín is about to kill Andrés, his genius strikes and he goes and produces a masterpiece (a masterpiece that may or may not be inspired by Martín).

So mostly it would focus on the art, the feels, the procrastination, and then the mad rush to get things done in time. (And I'd like to think I'd write it with a very oniric feel to it. Oh and also smut, so very like soulful and poetic smut. But well I don't think that's gonna happen.)

(Oh and also a happy ending where they end up confessing their feelings because I'm weak like that😁.)

So here have a snippet:

Martín started pacing and swore as he narrowly avoided walking into a bucket of bright red paint. 

The room was positively tiny and he still couldn't understand why Andrés insisted on spending all his time in it like some kind of recluse. The monastery was big enough to accommodate docens of people at one time but Andrés was happy to cram himself in the tiniest, most uncomfortable room he could find.  

He wondered how Andrés could live like that. The room was cramped, cluttered with books, canvases, sculptures and various bits of artistic trash. It looked like a museum's warehouse, if museums threw invaluable works in a warehouse without thought or care to what became of them. As he walked he deftly avoided discarded pieces of paper, empty paint tubes and old brushes. It was dirty, paint and dust covered every surface. The space not taken up by art supplies was used by a mattress on the ground shoved unceremoniously into a corner, a small coffee table and an enormous oak work table that seemed to be the centerpiece of the place.

Amongst all this chaos there stood Andrés, serene and unperturbed, unaware of his surroundings. With a brush on each hand and one clenched between his teeth. Before him a half painted canvas stretched like a vision of doom. The colors bleak and depressing. A mirage of untold horrors that sucked the life out of the area around it. The air seeming to grow heavier, dense and charged, stilted and dead. 

Martín could feel it in his bones, the emotions Andrés put into his work always expanding and resonating within him, turning him into a vessel for what Andrés couldn't say.

He was choking on an invisible weight and fought against it to unfurl his tongue from the dry cavern of his mouth and produce a sound. He knew the other man wasn't happy and that his intervention would only make things worse. But he had to shatter the looming tension before it swallowed him whole.

"Why don't you find another place. Maybe an apartment closer to the city."

Andrés didn't stop in his work but his shoulders tensed imperceptibly and the fingers of his left hand started drumming against the brush he wasn't currently using. He shook his head softly, his motions fluid and liquid. A delicate movement of silk floating in water.

"I'm not moving in with you Martín."

Martín closed his eyes, the bright hot pang in his heart a familiar caress at this point. He was like an addict, his feelings for Andrés a raging force that ravages his body and leaves him empty and aching. And still he willingly comes back for more, each time climbing higher with the knowledge that when he hits the ground it'll be more violent than before, the pieces impossible to pick up.

"That's not what I'm asking, you know it's not."

Andrés dipped his brush in a mug near his hand, washing out the dark paint, flicking the brush and creating a splatter of black bottomless dots, giving birth to a galaxy in the space that separates them.

"Don't ask things for which you know you won't like the answer."

Andrés' strokes become forceful then, the brush colliding against the canvas in an uncontrolled manner. The anger and frustration behind the movement captures Martín. He feels like a chick standing at the precipice. He can jump and take flight, taste the freedom and exhilaration of the wind rushing through his wings. Closing his eyes and diving not knowing if he's ready to fly the possibility of the deadly agonising crash a dark shadow at his back.

He was saved from having to make the choice by Andrés humming lowly in his throat.

"I love you Martín, but I'm not going to give up my life for you."

That familiar caress is back and the little chick is safely back in it's nest. The precipice dissolving and the unforgivable ground surging up to meet him, ripping him away in a manner more painful than any death. He shrugs, hunching in on himself, knowing the matter is closed and forgotten.

"Pass me my coffee." He demands, plastering a fake plastic smile on his face. While Andrés chooses to ignore the burning heat of things left unsaid that slowly melt the plastic away. Leaving behind a partially uncovered picture of a grotesque truth.

"I'm painting." Came the absent minded reply, the willful ignorance of man with a staggering lucidity of all the consequences of his actions.

Martín got up stretching legs that felt numb, forced to carry the weight of an unfathomable burden. He slowly walked towards Andrés, his steps the slow and lifeless cadence of the condemned, prolonging the inevitable in their approach to the gallows. 

He took his mug and took a long and deep sip of the liquid inside. He became aware of his mistake when Andrés turned to him with a steaming mug in his hand and a confused frown wrinkling his brow. 

Martín immediately opened his mouth, the dark paint water running down his chin like vomit, maring his shirt and staining skin and teeth. In the sickly pale light of the naked bulb, with the shadows under his eyes and the lingering hurt in his being, it made him look like a corpse throwing up thick and rotten blood.

Andrés laughed, the sound had a hysterically joyful quality to it, a discordant note in the gloominess of the room. It immediately invaded them, running through every crevice, every nook and cranny, injecting light and giving back the life that had been sucked out by the oppressing darkness.

The room changed completely, becoming bright and warm without suffering any real physical changes. It was infectious, contaging Martín and changing him from the inside out without his notice.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a comfortable silence. And the next time Martín stopped for a visit the room felt warm and homely, cosy and welcoming. He also found that the mugs had marker scribbles on them. One read 'Martín' the other 'Paint Water'.

It put a small smile on his face.

Well Anon, it's really shitty right now and needs a lot of polishing and editing, but I hope you enjoy this and that it doesn't disappoint.☺

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Broken promises but relieved hearts

"You... you want me to what?" You asked in disbelief, body freezing cold while feeling your legs trembling but somehow sustaining your body no less.

He sighed while placing some bullets inside a black box of his, before he looked at you dead in the eye, no emotions present on his features.

"Pack your things. I won't repeat myself longer, you know that I hate those things." His tone of voice was... nonchalant, like he didn't know how much this confused and hurted you in the worst ways.

"But... But why? What did I do?" You asked, feeling your chest getting tighter after each word you left out.

"Nothing. Just follow my orders (Y/n)." He said without a care as he returned to looking at some papers... some people were on it but you didn't had the mind for getting curious about it.

"Can I just know why?" You asked breathless, catching one more time his attention.

He looked at you up and down beforr he let out a irritated sigh, resting his head on his hand as he returned it to reading.

"Is nothing from your business. Just pack your things and leave at least this night."

You suddenly felt a wave of not only sadness but anger consume you slowly, that unstoppable feeling sticked on your throat before you whispered some things that Chisski aparently didn't caught it.

"Speak louder. I can't understand a single thing you're saying."

"I said-" yoy curled your hands into fists as your eyes squezeed shut "Why do you do this?"

He only arched his eyebrow at your words, before almost dropping them on his desk when he ssw your eyes tearing up.

Fuck.

"Why do you have to be so... selfish all of the time?" You asked hushed, breathing in and out after you sobbed quietly "After all this time Chisaki. I did and still do all you ask me for, always having my trust and being completely honest." You sobbed, getting the bit of courage to look up at those golden eyes.

"B-But you?" You let out a bitter giggle "You just do these things. Out of the blue, without a explanation or even a single word about it! And now you-you're just kicking me out without a damn good reason?!"

He got up from his chair to extend a hand towards you but you flinched away.

"Tell me Chisaki!" You screamed, hands curled up into trembling fists as the tears rolled down your face.

He looked at you for a brief moment before hanging his head low, bringing his hand to pinch of his nose.

"I'm doing this for protection." He say it at least "Tommorow by tge morning is possible that some heroes invade the base and the scenario is not going to turn out pretty."

"Then you just thought that sending me away would do me any good?" You asked in disbelief "What if I don't want to go dammit?"

"You're going." He growled "You don't have a quirk, neither good enough on reflexes. I don't want you here."

"...you.." you breathed in to contain your anger "fucking.. jerk..!"

You went to turn your back towards him to storm out of the room before gou felt a gloved hand grab on your shoulder and turn you around to him.

"Listen-"

"No." You hissed "I don't want to. I'm sick of this Chisaki! If I am that useless for you you could had just-"

"GODDAMMIT LISTEN FOR ONCE! I DON'T WANT YOU HERE BECAUSE YOU CAN GET HURT!" He grasped onto both of your shoulders, shaking a bit to make you understand him.

You stopped your vent but your tears continued to fall as you looked up at him with surprised eyes. You knew that your boyfriend only shouted when the situation was serious, besides that, he absolutely hated it whoever lifted their tone of voice too loud.

"... I just can't." He breathed out, taking his gloved hands off from your shoulder as his head still hung low. "You got nothing to deal with this issue. So that's why I'm sending you away before its too late..."

"But did you took the minute to think that I would want to stay with you? Kai for crying out loud, I love you!" You exclaimed, frowning when he didn't changed his gaze from the floor to you "I can't just-"

"Remember all those times where you were threatened and almost killed due to your affiliations with me." He sighed "This will help you... This is serious, and I don't want any filth hero laying their hands on you... just think about that when during the time when we are apart."

"You can't expect me to just nod and agree with that!" You shouted, tears coming back with the same force as before while you gripped the hem of your shirt.

"Is for the-"

"It is not!" You protested "It took me a long time to get pass through your walls that you sadly build up due to your fuck up parents! I'm not going to just throw that away for some stupid safety measure!" You cried, getting sad and frustated with how Chisski didn't still looked up at you.

"Angel... please. I already bought a place where you can stay, me and Chrono would be there by the end of tommorow. Just please listen and go..." He pleaded, something that left you in shock.

Since when your Chisaki Kai pleaded for something?

"Why do you do this?" You whimpered, wiping a few tears off from your cheeks with your sleeve "Anyone else you would be fine letting them here... why can't I stay with the person i love the most through thick and skull..?!" You sobbed into your hands, the tears sliding down from your palms and falling into the wood of the floor.

He took a shaky breath before going to take off his mask and place it over his desk, shortoy after making his way towards you.

"Because no matter how many times I tried..." his voice caught your attention, looking up to meet one of the rare faces your boyfriend make.... eyes soft but filled with inner pain and lips quirked up a little bit on a sincere smile.

"I can't help but fall and fall even more for you... this as a consequence makes me want to protect you with all costs. (Y/n), you simply accepted me despite knowing who I was and how I am... I just want to repay you and him after all this kindness." You sobbed loufly before almost throwing yourself at him, using all of your force on that hug.

His muscles tensed at the sudden contact and he ket out a tiny, if you weren't close to him you surely wouldn't be able to hear it, gasp of shock.

"The same goes for you idiot! First Pops coma, and now this? Kai I can't leave you alone. I just can't!" You cried while gripping onto his shirt tightly, letting your tears fall freely.

He felt shivers of displeasure when you commented on Pops current situation, finally catching his breath back as he slowly hugged your waist.

He was going to bring him back. When all of this ended and the yakusa was back and the world cured from thise diseases, he would see how his plan worked, how all of his actions were only to help him... to repay him.

"Is weird how even crying you can still make me feel not like a monster with your arms wrapped around me..." he breath out, inhaling your scent before he oushed you a bit for him to wipe those tears out of his angel's face.

"Please don't make me go away when-"

"(Y/N). Everthing is going to turn out ok. The heroes might invade, but I am not letting them even lay a finger on me. You know what I am capable of." He cupped your cheek on his hand, smilling a bit in relief when you sighed and brought your own hand to hold onto his.

"You're always causing trouble..." you muttered, enjoying the warmth and comfort that Chisaki could bring to you by only a touch.

"A problem that is necessary, see for the bug picture like I do my dearest." He muttered in response, meeting you in one of you guys most passionate and long kiss.

You sighed after he parted away, and rested your head on him as he carresed your hair slowly.

"... I promise." You arched one eyebrow up as you looked at him "I promise I am getting back to you without a single scratch." He said nonchalantly, but you could notice how serious he was by he intensity of his gaze.

Chisaki was never one to promise something, only when it was needed or he felt that would be the only way he would have the person's trust during business...

You sniffled, wiping with your wrist the last remain of your tears.

"You better hold on to that promise Chisaki Kai or else I, without regrets, going to wack your face." You giggled at his chuckle, some happiness back into your soul.

"Agressive are we? Fine then. It's a deal." He brough you close again, noses brushing against each other while each one warmth breaths spread on the other's faces.

"I love you." You sighed, nestling your face on the crook of his neck.

"... same here." He rested his head on your face, hesitantly parting away with a sigh of disappointment "... come. I will take you on that place."

"Right now?" You asked with teary eyes, sad and broken look making him cringe but still not turning back as he picked up his mask and placed it over his face again.

"Right now." He said numbly, opening the door of his office to let you pass through first.

With heavy heart, gulit slowly consuming him and the sudden cold and numb world he once lived in came back the moment ,he returned to the Shie Hassaikai... with no emotions on his face... merely a frow on as he walked alone to his bedroom to face the cruel and cold bedsheets.

That night he didn't sleep... since the devil had no angels on his arms to expelled his night terrors away from him.

~

Four walls, no morning light, a messed up bed and without both of his arms...

That was his life now. Caged, arrested on the worst prison of Japan. Tartarus, a place only dedicated to mantain the worst of the criminals in it.

He sighed and hitted the back of his head on the wall behind him.

Everything he had worked so hard for... just got ripped out of his hands... and as a little bonust that Shigaraki had took his arms and his finsihed product...

Even remembering the scene gave him chills... the pain of losing your arms though not surpassing the pain of letting the only man who had raised him down... the worst is that he couldn't bring Pops back, with his illness gone he was just like Shigaraki said.

A pathetic. Quirkless man. Loser...

He didn't even bothered how he was bejng threatened in there... he had lost everything.

And you? Dear god you must hate him. Despise his existence. Wish the heroes had killed him.

Surely you saw the news. He not only broked his promise but the heroes showed what he was doing...

You were never going to forgive him... he had lost the most special person on his life.

What is the purpose of living now? Why was he still breathing? This was some cruel joke from the universe? A way to pay his sins?

The voice of the guard brought him back to reality, not changing his numb and broken gaze fron the white ceiling of his cell.

"You have a visit Chisaki."

"... don't call me that. It makes my ears bleed hearing that name coming out of your disgusting mouth." The guard snickered and left the cell chuckling while saying something about 'first have a finger to suck on, the after come talking shit to me.'

Filthy...

He lowered his head to see whoever it was before widening his eyes and losing his breath at seing you standing there, face srcunched up or in anger or in worry.

He betted jt was the first one though by the way your fists were curled up.

"... It's only fair that you 'wack me on the face' noe my dearest.... go ahead, I deserved it." He lowered his head while saying this.

He heard your heavy footsteps coming closer at him, signing and closing his eyes he prepared for the impact...

What he didn't expected though was to feel your loving and clean arms wrap around his neck as you aprted your legs to climb on his lap.

"You idiot!" You cried, making him go wide eyed at your actions "I was so scared of loosing you and never seing you again!" You hugged hin closer while sobbing, feeling your shoulder start to get wet as well.

He gritted his teeth together whiel tightening his jaw, letting only a whimper of his out before he closed his eyes and rested on your shoulder.

With the absence of his arms he couldn't just crush you on him like he so desperately wanted.

"I'm sorry..." he said quietly, feeling like the worst of juman garbage at heari g and feeling his angel to cry on him BECAUSE of him.

He owned a explanation...

[sienna-writes]

Butterfly Blood || novel update

chapter three

I initially had a lot of trouble with this chapter. It’s been through about three drafts and it’s still nowhere near perfect, but I’m working on just moving forward with the novel now and am trying to quit obsessing over revising because... it’s unrealistic to expect a first draft to be perfect. 

The first draft of this particular chapter, though, was basically all dialogue, and all very poorly executed dialogue. (Dialogue is absolutely the weakest aspect of my writing but I’m working on it.) On my second attempt at the chapter I initially attempted to create an outline, thinking this would help me find a direction. However, in my next writing session I ended up totally ignoring the outline and just winging it, and the second draft was formed. I really liked the events in the chapter now but still wasn’t happy with some of the individual scenes so I reworked it yesterday morning. The argument between Rowan and Karmen still needed revision  because Karmen’s character within it was totally inconsistent to his usual disposition. So! The final (for now..) draft is a more stripped back, since Karmen is too disassociated to get as angry as he did as quickly as he did, and I think the tension and the build up is a lot better timed and more... muted? It’s less overt, more subtext heavy, and I'm relieved because that is what I had been trying to achieve all along.

Again, it’s not perfect, but it has evolved and it is definitely better than before. 

The chapter is just over 3000 words now, but I am only going to be sharing the main, gritty extract. The other scenes are less exciting, but I also suspect they need the same amount of work till they're even remotely sharable. (I was going through a bad writing slump in this chapter lol.) I really hope you enjoy it? I'm ultimately quite proud of how it turned out in the end :)

excerpt:

[Rowan has missed her GP appointment + her dad uses it as an oppurtunity to also be angry about her slacking in school]

    “I’ve booked another for tomorrow morning. You’ll miss some school, but I figured that’d be an incentive since you don’t seem to care about that anymore.” There is now an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before.

    Rowan visibly flinches, digging her fingernails into the supple skin of her palms. The dents purple then fill with blood. She locks eyes with her father, searching for the reason for his sudden anger. He has struck a nerve and he knows it.

    “Miss Phelps called.”

    She pushes her toes into the dirt, white sneakers now blotted with dust. “Oh.”

    He doesn’t ask for an explanation, simply straightens his back like an ancient scroll unravelling itself and meets her gaze finally. Karmen stands with his chest puffed out and his chin pointed forward. It is apparent that he won't ask her side of things. He’s heard enough, and has his made up his mind about her already.

    Rowan pushes past him to get inside. Karmen doesn’t shift as she squeezes by his statuesque stance. His face twitches like a camera shutter, so fast she can barely believe the change in his expression. She convinces herself it didn’t happen and throws her bag onto the couch, almost tempting another lecture. A tamer one. Something he could murmur through his daydream fog before slipping back into his silence and letting everything remain undiscussed. Like it normally is. Her slipping grades. Her laziness in class. Not writing a single word in an entire school day. Talking back for little to no reason.

    He turns as her rucksack lands, his footsteps looming behind her. Something sharpens the air between them, but she can’t tell what. The elephant is in the room and it is wrecking the place. They watch the destruction mutely, each waiting for the other to intervene and consequently letting the walls crumble into ruin. The old house audibly creaks, it is so quiet. Finally, Karmen speaks. “What’s the matter with you?”

    Rowan runs through all the excuses she can think of. I was dropped as a child. I was a premature baby, so my brain must be under-developed. The content is so easy it feels obsolete. I’m being bullied. I’m just not as smart as you thought, dad, sorry. Teachers are liars and we both should have known this.  “There’s just too much.” She says instead, through gritted teeth, moving into the kitchen. “I can’t focus on school and have to be there for everyone.” It is limp and she knows it. It flops between them weakly like a helpless fish. She takes a glass from the cabinet and closes it softly.

   He consumes the lie like a starved ghost, though. Proving he doesn’t know her. Doesn’t know how absent a friend she has been of late. How she has become her father at school, numb and quiet. How, secretly, she enjoys the façade because people avoid her, don’t ask difficult questions, don’t tackle her with unnecessary comments about her long-lost mother. “Then stop being there.” He says simply.

Rowan scoffs. “I do enough of that at home.” She studies her dad’s face—clenched jaw and squinting eyes—as if it hurts to look at her. “Everyone’s always telling everything how things must be. I must participate, I must be smart not emotional, I must not slack for exams I know I will pass without a glance at my books”—suddenly an urge to twist the knife into his gut overwhelms her, she draws out the moment as she fills the glass with a thread of water from the tap—"I must deal with a stranger for a Dad and a god knows what for a mother. A shrieking banshee? An abusive fugitive? She’s probably become a social worker just to scorn us.”

    He rolls his lips, lowers his gaze and chews on the inside of his cheek, sucking it in. Rowan’s breath catches in her throat. In this moment he looks shockingly hollow. Did she empty him? Wind him with her blows? Spoon out his entrails with an ice cream scoop? Carve him like the roasted corpse of some great beast? Karmen puts two hands on the back of the chair opposite her, clutching it as if he might just fall over. His stare is cold and unsympathetic when he raises it toward her. “Don’t you want to make something of yourself?”

Yes. “What?” She laughs bitterly, placing the tumbler on the counter with a satisfying thud. “Like how you made something of yourself?” There is a terrible moment where he sits in the midst of the cruelty, shrinks into himself as if absorbing it, before his mouth creaks open and he lets out a broken shriek.

“GOD DAMMIT ROWAN!” Rowan flies back, arms sheltering her head instinctively as he reaches for the glass she placed on the counter, spins, and throws it at the wall. One big horrific movement. A cutting arc of his arm through the air and then the shattering. “Are you ever even listening?”

    Millions of glittering fragments of her life laid out before her, encircling her bare feet. She thinks of the sneakers she slipped off at the door, wishing she had them now.  Something about naked feet look so naïve, so vulnerable. Her toes shrink, curling inward. Her breath quickens and her hands begin to tremble. All this broken glass. All these fragments like a lifeline stretched between them. Her eyes blink away tears in different shards, her reflection is fragmented, her features lost and bobbing about as if at sea.

    “Are you, dad?” Rowan asks in an empty voice, staring at him till he flinches. He stares at the glass on the floor in shock.

    “I...” He crouches, sifting through it with his bare, shuddering, and unsure hands. “I don’t know why I did that...”

    Rowan gets a sudden urge to have the last word. Except she doesn’t speak. Her eyes settle on the glass and the idea flourishes like a flame in her mind, burning everything rational, everything he might think. To hell with appropriate. To hell with acceptable. One unsteady step. She expects a crunch or a crackle, but instead there is a damp muffle and squelch. Her spine rattles and her teeth prickle in response. A sunrise in her chest warms her throat but she presses against it with her palms, forcing it down. It is a scorching, molten pain. Third degree burns and all she swallows rays of light till she is drowning, gorging. Slipping through furnace tongue flames. Rowan gags. Bile and acid boils her tongue and the bright, burnt out orb slips into her stomach. She gulp, gulp, gulps every atom of the blaze that consumes her. Till she is heavy. She walks across the broken glass as he yells out. Let there be outrage. Let the sky fall. Its clouds embrace her limbs, draining everything fluid from her, letting her grow limp. Letting her rain. Heavy. As she moves away from the kitchen, she feels her footsteps peeling from the floor, warm and wet. And she is so, so heavy. Then she stumbles, splintered feet unable to keep her up—her legs can no longer hold her and her lava—as the pain erupts within her fierce and sharp and sudden. Flashing its ugly teeth. Catching one last glimpse before her vision goes dark, she sees a red ocean seeping into the living room. How could one body hold so much? Fast and gushing the rapids wash her dregs of consciousness away. It was just a few steps...

soo... yeah. Rowan walks on glass because, oh lord that girl has no impulse controls. 

I'm not going to lie, although it was a pain to get this scene to the stage I have just shared, I think it's one of my favourites in the book so far. I'm proud of how much it's grown. Also, I love me some dramatic descriptions of pain and characters being nasty... :”)

I hope you enjoyed this update! (if you did, reblogs really help me out, but absolutely no pressure <3) I’m also still looking for people to add to the tag list, so if any of this interested you, feel free to send me an ask, message or comment. :)

Tag list under cut (ask to be added or removed):

@alicewestwater @elaz-ivero @coffeeandcalligraphy @hanwatchingmovies @sirfitzroys @chloeswords @nev-953

[bleachanimefan1]

Oblitus Part 20 Jailhouse Rock

57 Days Left Until Extermination...

The sound of clocks ticking echoed in the dark hallways until It struck midnight. Bong! Bong! Bong! The loud ring sounded out continuously twelve times. Anna rolled in her bed, restless, trying to sleep. But, she couldn't, she tried counting until reached up to 300, it didn't work. She tried thinking of various of songs trying to lull herself to sleep, but It only made her more wide awake. Anna groaned as she pulled the pillow, covering her face. Slowly, she felt her eyes began to drop, feeling heavy until they closed.

However, as soon as Anna was about to go to sleep, a loud strange sound ringed in her ears. Her eyes shot open immediately awaken her.  Anna rolled on her side using her pillow to cover her ears. But, the sound only got even louder as music continued to play. Anna growled, sitting up in the bed. She crawled out and walked towards the door leaving her room. Her footsteps echoed as she walked down the hallway heading towards the source, where the music was coming from. 

"It sounds like someone stepping on a lot of cats," She murmured, irritated. All she wanted as to have a good night's rest. Soon, she stopped in front of a door, Alastor's room. She frowned. Of course, it had to be him. She knocked, nothing. She knocked harder, but it was covered up over the music. Anna opened the door, walking in. As she stepped into Alastor's room, heading deeper inside the swamp, following the sound where the music was coming from. As she got closer, it sounded like someone was screaming and howling in agony. Then she saw someone within the distance. 

Anna stopped staring in blank silence, seeing that it was the radio demon. He was sitting in a small rolling chair in front of a strange instrument as furbies were lined up in rows. 

"Alastor, what is that thing?" Anna asked. Alastor turned around seeing Anna standing behind him. He grinned wickedly.

 "Oh hello, my dear!" He called out to her.  "This is my furby organ."

"Well, could you keep it down?" Anna said. "Some of us are trying to sleep. I have to have some energy for Angel's intervention, tomorrow. You know how he is."

"Don't you mean morning?" Alastor smiled.

"See, I'm too tired to think right now," Anna replied. "So, could you please not make any noise until then?"

 "Very well," Alastor smirked, darkly.

 Anna yawned as she walked in to the room to find Angel sitting in the chair, leaning back in it as he filed his nails. He looked up hearing her come in. Angel's eyes widen seeing the state that Anna was in. Her eyes had dark bags underneath them and were bloodshot. Also, her hair was a mess with knots and tangles.

She did not get any sleep at all. Every time she tried to, somehow her door would open on it's own, creaking at it did then slamming shut. The faucet in her bathroom would continuously drip or run every time when she tried to turn off, annoying her. And every time she tried to lay back down on the bed her pillow would be in a different spot or her blankets would be tossed across the room.

"Wow, dollface, you look like shit!" Angel laughed, leaning back in his chair, pointing at Anna. "You didn't get enough beauty sleep last night?" Anna frowned as she stared tiredly at the spider demon. She walked over to the chair and sat down.

"Thanks, Angel," she dead panned. "Every girl loves to hear that."

"I couldn't get any sleep last night," she said. "No matter how hard I tried." 

"So, are we going to fucking do this or what?" Angel said, leaning in his chair. "Me and Cherri, we are thinking about hitting a few clubs after this." Anna looked up from her notebook, glancing at Angel.

"Okay, Angel, I'm gonna have to tell you to tone it a bit down with the language," she said. "Only way to help with the healing process." Angel rolled his eyes.

"So, what? I can't curse, is that what you're saying?" he asked with crossed arms. "I hate to break it to ya, toots, because that's apart of who I am!"

"No, you can curse, just not to an extreme,"  Anna answered.

"Fine," the spider demon shrugged his shoulders. "Whateva you say, bitch!" Anna laughed nervously. This was going to be a very long process.

"Okay, Angel, tell me about your past," she asked. "What did you do?"

"I'm from a crime family," Angel started but paused for a second. "Let me put in words so your little brain can understand." Anna frowned, insulted, as the spider demon smugly smirked and continued. "It's like the mob or mafia, we hunt and take down traitors or deal breakers who want to upstage us or have more power or money."

"I take it that you probably known THE Al Capone?" Anna pondered.

"I didn't know him, personally." Angel said. "But, my old man did. He was the one who iced him." Anna's eyes widen in shock.  

"So, are you close with your family?" she asked. Angel flashed a glare.

"What's this bullshit?"

"Language," Anna said. She wrote in the notebook. "I'm gonna mark it down as a maybe."

 "You're dead wrong, doll face," Angel growled. "My family doesn't give two shits about me. They left me to die." Anna's eyes widen.

 "There must have been someone you cared about? Brother or sister?" She questioned.

 "My father, along with my older brother, said that I was an embarrassment and a disgrace to the family."

 "What do you mean?" Anna asked.

 "Have you seen me?" Angel answered, gesturing to himself. "Back then, I would've been locked up in the nut house if people saw how I was dressed or my seductive actions towards other men."

 "What about your mother?" Anna pressed. Angel sighed.

 "Don't remember her. She died when me and my twin sis was born." Anna raised on eye brow in interest. Angel has a twin? 

 "You have a twin?" She asked. Angel nodded, smiling.

 "Yes, molls and I were together through everything. From pissing my dad and brother off, on purpose, and taking out other mafia families."

"You said that they left you to die, what happened?" Anna asked.

 Angel frowned, looking down. "I just wanted to take a high, to get away from everything, to be free from it all." He continued. "But, instead, I accidentally took a little bit too much and overdosed on Angel dust. I remember feeling my heart beating fast, like it was going to burst out, and my chest burning. My entire body went completely numb and I couldn't move. I tried to call for help, but nobody came. Then I remember darkness as it overcame me, and the next thing I knew, I wound up here." Anna stared at Angel in silence trying to process everything that he said. What can she say? What could anyone say after hearing that?

"Angel, I'm sorry,-" 

"I don't need your damn pity, bitch!" Angel snapped. "No one else did and certainly not my family as well. It's bad enough those two bastards are down here with me!" Anna's eyes widen.

"Wait, you mean your father and brother are down here with you, too?!" She exclaimed.

"Serves those two piece of shits right!" Angel snickered. "I almost broke down laughing as soon as I found out that they were here as well."

"What about your sister?" Anna asked. Angel stopped.

"I don't know..." He answered. 

"Do you ever get in touch with your father and brother?" Anna asked.

"Oh hell no!" Angel shouted.

"Angel, I really think that you should," Anna said. "I think that there's a reason that they're here too. The key is forgiveness..." she paused as she trailed off. Her eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god!"

"That's it!" She exclaimed. Angel nearly fell out of his seat, startled.

"What's it?" The spider demon asked. "Your really freaking out right now and its starting to freak me out, toots."

"Forgiveness!" Anna answered. "That's the answer to redemption! It's hard to forgive yourself but it's harder to forgive others. Sometimes your actions have consequences!"

"You need to talk to your father and brother,"

Angel scoffed. "And say what? I forgive you guys for treating me like a piece of shit all the time?" He replied, sarcastically. Anna cringed. "That's not exactly what I meant, Angel. You don't have to do it right away, only when you're ready." The spider demon continued, ignoring her. "Or how about, I'm sorry I committed suicide and got myself killed and caused you guys a lot of trouble!" 

Suddenly, Angel hissed as he felt a searing burning pain his right eye. "Ah! Damn it!" He shouted, rubbing it.

"What's wrong?" Anna asked.

"It's just my eye," Angel growled. "must've gotten something in it! Shit!" Anna stood up walking over to him.

"Don't run it, you'll make it worse," she said, removing Angel's hand from his face. "Let me take a look."

Angel slowly opened his left eye. Anna's eyes widen in shock. Instead, of a black sclera it was white the same as his right eye, but something was different. Instead, of pink iris it was light blue. 

"Angel, y-your eye, it's back to normal!" Anna exclaimed.

"Huh, well what do ya know?" Angel chuckled. "I guess your right."

"I've got to tell Charlie and Vaggie! They have to know!" Anna shouted, ecstatic. She quickly kissed Angel on the cheek before he was able to do anything. She quickly opened the door and ran out but also accidentally bumped into Alastor as she did. 

"Where we are you off to in such a hurry, darling?" Alastor asked.

"No time to talk," Anna replied, stepping around him, and ran off. "I have to find Charlie!" Alastor watched as she ran off and Angel came up to him, leaning against the door. Alastor glanced over at him and froze seeing the spider demon's eye returned to normal. 

"Is there a problem Smiles or are you just happy to see me?" Angel smirked.

"No, everything's fine and dandy, Angel!" Alastor replied with a strained smile. In reality, he was furious. He had instructed his shadows so that Anna could not get any rest so that she would be exhausted to do the intervention. But, somehow it failed. 

"Did I forget to mention that Anna kissed me?"

Alastor's eyes widen and he quickly turned his head at Angel, his neck cracking as he did. Of all the things he was thinking of doing to the spider demon, Angel would have been dead from where he stood.

"You don't say?" Alastor muttered under his breath in a dark tone. "I'm...very...happy for you!"

Angel smirked pointing his finger at the radio demon. "Do I detect a hint of jealously?" Alastor's eyes widened and he turned his head to the side.

"What? No!" he replied. He walked away, growling. "You're imagining things."

[savingchaos]

an alcoholic walks into a bar

she doesn't walk out

this isn't a very funny joke, huh?

"it's funny y'know, when you joke about your addiction to cope. all dark fucking humor until you have to deal with it, until you face the consequences and it gets too real too fast. it's funny until you break down, until you drink to cope, and it becomes unfunny real quick."

max sat silently in her bed, unable to find comfort in the outdoors like she usually did, since the cold got more and more bitter and drove her indoors. her heater hushed and shut off, but the quiet sound soothed her, so she turned on her white noise machine to help. it sounded like the air conditioner she relied on in the hot summer nights, and it reminded her of better, blithe days.

"it's too funny to joke about being an alcoholic with your alcoholic buddies, until your alcoholism fucks you up so bad you can't deal with a hard day without a shot or 12 of vodka, and they just wake up without a hangover or any consequence because they've been this way for so long. that's when you see your future, what you'll become. but you don't care. not for the night, because you finally feel relief. I sure as fuck don't care right now because I've had panic attacks for a straight week. I've convinced myself it's the bipolar. I'm probably right. I'm not usually this bad, so what's the harm in another drink?"

"I've been hearing music at night and it keeps me up. I don't wanna know who's singing, and sometimes it's downright annoying. like yeah okay, the rock music is cool, but fucking opera? and creepy minor toned opera at that? yeah, not cool. I can't stand that shit on my best day, and I was a fucking symphony musician. I hate opera. sometimes I try to test it, see if I'm just imagining it, or if my brain is really singing to me. it hasn't helped. I can't find where it's going and I know I'm hearing fake shit. at least I know it I guess."

max was truly struggling, losing her shit, as she'd say. the music made no sense, and the only way to stop it was drinking, apparently. the vodka would drown it out, or counteract it. she didn't care what it was called, as long as it would stop. the noise machine droned on and tonight she was thankful that it was all she could hear. her cold feet, won from her last cigarette, warmed under her flannel blankets, while she fought inside herself, demons battling for position, each worse than the last.

"still though, this is better than being a fucking zombie. yeah shit sucks right now, but at least I feel something right?? I mean sometimes it's too strong and I have to numb it, like moonshine and tea. but still, moonshine and tea is 10 times better than water and bland, so I guess I'm living. maybe living a little too much. I like living a little too much. it's what I really am, the meds just make my "too much" just enough to cope with."

"my mom always said we're 72 records in a 45 RPM world. she said that about her sister too, who was bipolar like me. her sister was famous for saying, 'beam me up scotty, there's no intelligent life on this planet.'"

"I finally feel what my aunt was feeling, everything is so slow, or dull, or just blunt and boring. everyone just moves five seconds or more behind me, and I'm desperate for them to catch up. LIKE C'MON this is simple, just help me out a little, I need you to be there with me."

"it's not their fault. I'm not fucking einstein either all the time, I sometimes miss basic fucking shit because I'm overthinking it looking at the forest and totally missing the trees that everyfuckingone else sees."

"but god I wish they'd catch up sometimes. I'm manic, hypomanic?? I don't know right now, but I wish they'd catch up, just to fill in the gaps I can't see, because I got the rest. I do, I swear."

" I mean I know no one is drugging my drink at work and making me tired, but sometimes I wonder, like why am I exhausted?? why am I full of energy off a swig of water, then anxious but still tired off coffee and energy drinks?? I think it's suspicious, but I know in my rational mind I'm psychotic."

"I do. I know this isn't real like the music in my head. but I wonder. it's fake. I know it's fake. but still I wonder."

"still better than being numb."

max finished her vodka seltzer and went for a snack. she was hungry lately. she blamed herself for not losing more weight but she needed food to fill the void. new stuff too. she knew it, regretted it, but still did it. such is life, she supposed.

[cultml]

Breaking of Now

"Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities"

That’s what I should have said to my sister when she asked genuinely what my problem with wearing a mask was.  On this occasion I had gotten trapped and was pretty pissed about the whole situation. The week before one of the big retailer announced a mandate masks. Virtue signalling group think as far as I was concerned and assumed, wrongly that if i bought a little more I would have time to finally workaround them. The day the mandate took effect and the day i talked to her,  I stopped by one of the more expensive less convenient workaround places to find a mask mandate. An couple hours latter i find out my main grocery store and the others options where going to mandate as well. Online is feeding a different beast and sending someone in my place is out sourcing my acquiescence. Trapped. In the end I just told her no one knows what they are doing (the failure to still count the deaths correctly), it's ridiculous (contradictory studies and disparate rules), that i suddenly didn't have a choice and it was going to take me a few days to adjust.

What was really going through my head was about USSR.  “ It wasn’t the just the necessary lies it was the absurd little pointless ones that broke the spirit of the people” to paraphrase badly from a place I don’t remember. That is clearer statement of Voltaire and a simple explanation of why we shouldn’t lie. It’s not the childish notion that we should not because the truth is easier. Most see mask wearing a virtuous, for me it’s an affirmation of a lie, of several, of the ones closer to the roots. It’s not a herculean feat to see for me it’s just stupid hard wired reflexive contrarian angst , not hell no so much as why the hell . It leads you to question anti-vax, reduced fat, publish or die, replication crisis, Russell conjugation, virtues signalling, Overton window, attacks on moral relativism destroying gradation of sin and virtue, cognitive biases , government building as nation building, gas lighting, the church defending itself and the existence of God but not the moral order(not that it knew the difference), the irreconcilability of socialist thought and Jihadists with the west, big government as government playing god, half the people are dumper than the other, death of the common, the long list of what’s called the regressive left we focus so much on (more of a symptom than a cause),cultural relativism, common human behavior dressing up common human behavior as conspiracy, fragility of high civilization, economics standing in for moral order, monogamy, “perfect as your are” drowning the phoenix, nuclear family, woke rewrites hiding more subtle rewrites of western mythos, the prison of two ideas, deep silos of knowledge standing in for wider wisdom, and....

At some point you find yourself  outside and not in some sort of edgy artsy way, not quite smart enough to figure out why no one else is there. I am sliding back into the hope I have gone insane. You deal with the whirling nightmare as little as possible, you don’t call it out at every turn, you don’t cheer it on, you don’t help it, and YOU DO NOT FUCKING LIE ABOUT IT. 

So sitting in the parking lot,deciding if one of the innocent creatures that lives with me, approaching month four of the six the vet said she had left, gets the food she prefers at the moment...  She had other food that was better for her anyway.., not that it matters now. I have a duty of care especially now. She won’t understand the problem or the cost to my honor, for lack of a better word. She will just miss the thing she is used to. In reality avoiding the mask is likely impracticality anyway.  On the verge of throwing up, crying, punching the dashboard or screaming fuck over an over... a car pulls into the spot across from me and a woman starts unpacking a kid out or the back seat... none of the above. A few deep breaths and fuck it, the easy way it is.  Never thought about actually punching a stranger or really anyone but the assigned finger wager at the door.... “I am a virtuous little citizen and those who know better know better” and not “we aren’t all writhing around in the liquefying corps of a great civilization” On queue they where still out of or ran out of again of the food I was after.

I didn’t feel anything brake that day. Thinking about it since something is missing. Maybe things are just numb and will come back in time. As of now thinking about what may have to be done in defense of a civilization worth defending against those that can not be reconciled with it, elicits little. The little emotional triggers that made question if I could if i had to, are gone.... I am pretty weak willed and was happy to stand on the side lines. Muse at what might untangle this mess. I am not a hard man by any imagining, but you made me lie exactly in the way that end civilizations. Not that mask work. Not that I was virtuous for doing so. Not that “we are all in this together”. Not that those in charge know. Not that anyone is in charge. Not that some version of normal coming. Not that this version of the west isn’t dead. It’s the lie that there isn’t a massive upheaval coming.

The mass of rubble , ideological and real that will have to be cleared. Unfortunately a fair amount of blood that is likely to be spilled. Driving now the phrase “ the ugliness of modern architecture” rings in my ears. Affordable little canvases of our own that last only a life time is not the worst thing, but churches in strip malls? Regardless if this is just contrivance of my head or not I have been pushed a few degrees off of where i was. For now, a reprieve as there is still the innocence creatures in my care. It sadly is not open ended.

This kinda of thing might not have pushed as hard as it did if the ground wasn’t already soft. Before all that a few thing had pushed me to wrap up what i was thinking and walk from my online musings. So. Brit Hume has been one of the perennial “ this is the most important election of our lives... til the next one”  He and Thomas Sowell, calling it a point of no return have both come to the conclusion that it actually is. If Biden wins the next election wouldn't matter and any other road blocks would be gone.

Charlie Hurt calling it a make it stop election and latter Victor David Hanson questioning if a silent major exists leads one to believe that reason may have been locked out. That this is a who ever can convince enough people they can save them election. It really fell like the argument don’t matter at all. My suspicion is that if you had really solid polling and knew the outcome of a handful of thing you could easily predict this election now, nothing the candidate did would mean anything. I have kind of gotten used to the idea that thing are going to get well... bloody when the left takes power and finally nails the door shut behind its self.

I was under the illusion that there are a number people that “know” where that leads and would as a last resort raise the black flag. Someone “on the inter webs” I thought was one (for no good reason on my part) when asked opted for the benedictine option. “The monasteries survived”. The monasteries where not an existential threat to the king. Little literacy. little printing and no internet. The parallels to the Maoist and the jihadists to our current insurgents? rebels? look pretty clear. What makes anyone thing they going to be left alone by this “madness”. I got very worried. Those you think might keep Trump in power surrender to the mob.... and those who would fight might decide to hide..... A number of things start looking pretty frivolous.

Author Brooks among a legion of others, well meaning I am sure, prescribe kindness and reason and be patient. I short you don’t hug the guy with the suicide vest.... clear? For the jihadists anything said buy outsiders is meaningless, faith isn’t easily to question on the best of days. For the utopians, you can’t understands till it finally works and usually the censors and secret police help.  To our little friends if your the oppressor you have no room to speak even if you think you understand how evil you are or your so oppressed that your don’t know what your taking about. It all insulated ideology, and all of it gets people killed. They haven't officially taken power so i guess you could try it one a time, cult deprogramming. However the cult isn’t living in the middle of nowhere, we are all living in it.

Jordan Peterson comes at it from a reasoned position focused more on the broader problems of the West. “Orientate your self properly,aye”. You raise yourself up and it raises those around you. Don’t think saving the West was at the top of his list when it all started  Again a one at a time, bottom up approach. At the time I was sure it was far to slow and he never seemed to have a handle on American politics though he knows how badly societies can go wrong. He and many other I don’t think quite understood how bad intentioned the left really was, or how much the compromises made with them where always seeding ground. It seems like a great many people are still living there.

The other problem is the lack of a common. “if there is no common understanding there is no common sense” Mark Steyn if memory serves. My past understanding of the malignant “God is dead” quote was just that and it was a good thing. In part from Peterson, my understanding now is “the common belief in a common God / moral order is dead”.  A strong civil society might be able to hold things together and let people do generally what they want....... as long as the reap the consequences of their choices.  The problem comes when all choices become valid because there are no consequence . A strong moral order would have put the brakes on.

This is the general problem with the various libertarian imaginings.  Over time it will always be a problem. Any significantly democratic organization will trend left or as to hear the left tell it “the long arch of history tend toward justice”... social justice.... popular judgement..... mob rule. Entropy.  We all want to be nice and liked so we let the margins slide, leave a little wiggle room in the rules. Eventually it ticks over. Instead of allowing it’s restricting. I doesn’t matter now whatever the case. There is no way now to go any where near letting people reap their own consequences, what would the bureaucrats do with themselves.

So come at it from the other side? The moment the Enlightenment or the industrial revolution started the church was in existential peril. The less the average person need God to explain their day to day the less the ethereal wonder holds. The explosion of knowledge even if they didn’t understand all of it, become a surer path.  Defense of the moral order was what was called for. The church defended itself and eventually the existence of God. I would like one of these fill in the blank “nationalist”, common good conservatives, new theocrat types explain to me how governmental policy is going to fix it? They seem to see it as a problem caused by the left. The left is just taking advantage. If it wasn’t them now it would be something else in a generation or four. Not only are they misidentifying the problem their solution is making it harder to solve.  Setting government policy to favor what worked is not a guarantee it works going forward. There are plenty of good studies and sound arguments and some policies may work well. The problem, it introduces rigidity. It will help stave off the known worse, meanwhile  staving off the unknown both for the worse and for the better. It slows the development of better.

There is this notion that the “left and the “right” should just get a divorce. The “left” will never be satisfied with that. There is as well the notion that we are to diverse to coexist. This is another result of the lack of a common. If a civilization or a country in this case, are bound together even loosely by a civil order an a moral order diversity isn’t a fatal issue. To say it isn’t possible is to reject  the American experiment out right.

Those who have accepted a civil war is inevitable talk as if the fight will be to restore something? The war is between who? One side is usually the government. Not sure what is gained by pickling fight with Antifa et al.

I had thought after Ferguson leadership would have leaned it’s lesson.  APCs for riot control, yes. For no knock warrant, not so much. It’s become abundantly clear I assume far to many things. We went from throw a water bottle at a cop, jail and the protest is over to everything is acceptable up until your try to burn people alive in a public building. As far as I am concerned those mayors and governors who allow this signed there own resignation letters.

It is has become clear Trump or likely any president can’t fix this. Trump specifically doesn’t have the tack to talk us off this ledge. Suspend the campaign for a week and talk about the consequences, the nature of and solution for the problem.... and never mention himself? I don’t know that and president would have the resources to declare an insurrection, deploy enough federal agents and national guard (assuming the governors allow it) and hold on til the local government went back to arresting the first bottle thrower. I doesn’t look like the decades long hold the “left” has had on these city is going to be broken by this, so no major change in policy that will stop this short term is coming. Those who decide to leave are likely to bring the same ideas that lead to the policies that lead to the chaos where ever they go. It’s not going to stay contained.

It sounded like there where the start of some defensive militia and there are always community deescalation groups. This is driven by policy fuel by ideology that can not be question (though they used to act as if it could). All solutions look to be outside our normal acceptable practice. Comment by Mark Steyn about Islam are instructive. Surrender, destroy, or reform. As with Islam this is a self fulfilling ideology.  So? a form of colonization inside our country, an insurrection? Remove the mayors, city counsel and the prosecutors, none of which are doing their jobs. If the rule is that the feds don’t declare insurrections, and it is not declared as such then it is not. What about the governors?  Then what..? What policies changes the culture? What are the markers for holding the next election? It is outside our norm, not so much for history in general.

If Trump wins whatever the left does including secession will be responded to by the federal government, our little city experiment aside. That at best will just reimpose the status quo. It is very unlikely to force the “left” ideology into retreat. If Biden gets elected? Play the city experiment out writ large . The constitution almost by definition can’t survive. So... just reprint the thing and put a new start date on it?  What does that solve? Maybe I am not digging in the parts of the internet where these this are being hashed out. If they are I not sure it’s by the type of people I want running things.

A list of systemic grievances going into all this would be useful both as a guild for what comes after and as set of red lines. I am sure most libertarians could give you a library full of outrages. It is not the day to day bureaucratic nonsense that’s the problem or police outrages. It’s things like deferential impact, judicial realism, popular election of senators, and the supposed precondition in which regulation is allowed just to start. The last line may be when the left has easily won two or three elections in a row while everyone is being forced to do things they don’t want and never hear a word in the press about it.  It may be to late by then. I believed that would be the result if Hilary got elected and it looks to be a certainty if Biden gets in.

Whatever the case maybe the violence has started and to what degree it escalate who knows. The idea that violence is never the answer was always a myth, one we are coming face to face with now. The fact is violence on very rare occasions is the only answer unless you are prepared to surrender everything, to live on your knees in agony. That is why the idea that the constitution is not a suicide pact never made any sense. We seeing it now to with the virus. “we must sacrifice everything even if it save one life”. What childishness. If you won’t die or worse live in pain for your principles they only hold until someone or thing threatens you with just that. If others know it your principles don’t mean much. Further more at societal level if leadership isn’t prepared to risk the live of civilian to protect those principles they aren’t going to last long either

All that in the end still solves nothing. You have beaten back the enemy for what? If violence comes or not we have to have something to go to, to strive for as a civilization. We are a fractured mess of half thoughts and endless “problems” to solve. We have no common understanding of what the moral order or any order is or should be. As is we are done.

“We are very unlikely to come up with entirely new definition or invention. We are very unlikely to invent new Gods, very unlikely to come up with new religion, ...very unlikely to be able to go anything this good again.” Douglas Murray.

 A similar sentiment two plus years ago sent me in this direction.

“ Where the road we’re traveling takes us. Where do the above events and that one trend leave us? Not in a good place. Unless there’s a black swan somewhere down the line, we are heading inevitably towards a socialist America. “  “ I’m praying for a Black Swan. My prayers aren’t usually answered, though. That’s why I’m assuming that the American future will be totalitarian — either Marxist or Islamic — and that it might happen within my lifetime and will definitely happen within my children’s. “ - Bookworm

So what we are looking for is a Black swan, a new god, a new religion. In an ocean of ignorance with an occasional mist of wisdom let me see if I can puzzle this out a bit. First there  is no puppet master just us. Though they took full advantage ,even the “left” isn’t the problem. We began to gain knowledge abundantly, with certainty if not ease. It distracted, if not overwhelmed the the ethereal of the church and rendered the judgement of the wise mute. So what do we need? We need to temper knowledge. We need not just the facts or the working of the parts we see. We need to pursue the truth, not exactly the truth. Not the truth of the tangible world or that of the ethereal. It is the truth of the moment. Our best understanding of the working of the two combined.  And an understanding that some day it will change. And that is what we should pursue. The honest truth of what we know and a drive to find more. To try, succeed and fail, to find what is actually better. It is an extension of the road humanity was on before this diversion.

How to paint the picture? A discovered / revealed God/ devil/ saint/ mythic hero, a torch bearer along the path humanity has always been traveling. The path of our increasing understanding, the path that raised our civilization. A light that only shines on the path behind us, to illuminate the things we missed and on our figure calling us forward. One who demands that those who obscure the past repent. One who demands that those who misrepresent the path their on to get others to follow repent. One that asks us to forgive those who do and use the shape of their misdeeds  to search for our own misunderstandings and mistakes.

In practice, a secular church that is neither. A voluntary body with neither the force of law or a claim to the moral order. A nondemocratic organization because the long arc of history tending toward social justice. An organization the is trusted to ask better questions. A group of people that will put themselves in the experiments in order and be brutally honest about the results. 

So for instance the question about transmission of wisdom from one generation to the next is about how we raise children and that is about family and marriage. What is best? what do we really know?  Follow the path all the way back. Romantic marriage is new, so why not practical or arranged marriage? We see the obvious problems with polygamy, with polyamory? Maybe some combination? maybe not one big romantic marriage but three,may be four people, one marriage is practical, one arrange, and one romantic. I have no idea. We can’t just default to the wisdom of religion or assume the recklessness of the “left”. Let Go. If it works or not we are better for knowing. We will have surer footing on the path ahead at least in the understanding of this moment.

If don’t like that formulation good. You build a black swan. If there’s a flock of them maybe one survives. Maybe we avoid generations of brutality. Maybe something of what we have done survives.

All I can do now is try to find a way not to live on my knees before anyone, anything, any ideology or idea. Try. That is all I can do.

Credit to those i stole ideas from that i can no longer remember if they're mine or not. I am going to put away my crayons down, shut my mouth give my mind a rest, deal with only what i must, and hopefully find a way to wonder at the world again.

or try to