#wow i sound VERY bitter huh

[keepthetension]

still stuck on porjai, visibly pregnant, flirting with night

who fucking goes for it

i only know the asian culture i grew up in, obviously, and not thai culture. but the social stigma of being unmarried and pregnant? and having the nerve to still be flirting?? that's not the Good Girl thing to do, and i remember the way the Not Good Girls were treated and talked about where i grew up

so porjai actively trying to get dates? night finding out she's pregnant with her ex's kid and just. being fine with that? big deal to me

[cassiabaggins]

Too Bitter, Too Sweet (part one)

A chance encounter gives you a once in a lifetime opportunity: the chance to reunite with your first love, Leon Kennedy.

Fluff and Angst

Words: 4k

Warnings: none. Just Leon being awkward. NO SMUT

(April is an oc, she is VERY briefly mentioned because I couldn't resist)

Reblogs and comments appreciated! Cross-posted on ao3.

You can hardly believe what you're seeing. He's older, with longer hair and a hardened look, but you'd recognize him anywhere. Leon Kennedy, your first love and college boyfriend. 

You're approaching him before you can think about it. 

“Leon?”

He freezes, startling a little like no one has called his name in forever, and turns to stare at you. There is no spark of recognition in those baby blue eyes. 

“Uh, hi?”

“It's me, Leon. Y/N. From college? We… were close.”

Close is an understatement. The two of you had dated for almost a year, but he doesn't seem to recognize you or remember. You suppose you can't blame him. It's been nearly ten years and you've both changed quite a bit.

A beat. Another. 

Then his eyes widen and a soft, shy little smile blooms across his face. “Y/N,” he murmurs, then laughs, running a hand over his hair. “Wow. Hi! You look… different.”

You giggle. Oh Leon. He's really not changed at all. “Different?” You ask.

“It's a good different!” He hurries to say.

“It's good to see you again,” you tell him. 

He nods vigorously, his hair falling into his eyes. “You, too.”

He looks around the area, as if trying to figure out what you're doing here. “What are you doing in D.C.?”

You adjust the strap of your purse. “I'm here for work,” you explain. 

Leon puts his hands in his pockets. “Work, huh? You passed the bar, then? That's amazing.” 

You feel your cheeks warming. “How'd you know I was a lawyer?”

“Because that's what you were studying in college,” he replies. “It wasn't that long ago. You think I forgot? Besides, how many different jobs are there to be done in a courthouse?”

You laugh softly, and Leon grins, clearly pleased that he made you laugh. His smile is exactly the same as you remember it, slightly lopsided, sweet, and genuine. It makes you remember easier times and how he used to kiss you. You shouldn't be thinking about him like that… it's been almost ten years, there's no way he doesn't have a girlfriend.

“Are you still in law enforcement?” You blurt, desperate to distract yourself.

Leon shifts in place, and you think his smile falters slightly.

“Something like that,” he says ambiguously. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It's hard to explain,” he replies, scratching the back of his head. “Uhm… it's government stuff.”

He's clearly uncomfortable, so you stop pushing. 

“Do you like it?”

“The people I work with are great,” he says.

Not exactly an answer. 

“Well, that’s good,” you say, adjusting your grip on your purse. Leon opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by the sound of a jaunty ringtone. 

“Shit,” he mumbles, quickly pulling a cellphone out of his jacket pocket. He frowns when he sees the caller I.D. “Uh, one sec, I have to take this.”

He steps away to answer the phone, and you watch him for a bit, wondering if you should leave. But you can’t bring yourself to. You’ve only just met him again, and just like in college, he fascinates you. But this time, a little over a decade later, there’s so much more to him. Not just physically, though he’s certainly bulked up a bit over the years, but there’s a darkness and mystery to him that excites you. Besides, what woman hasn’t fantasized about reconnecting with the one that got away? 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by Leon approaching you again. He looks apologetic. “I have to run,” he says. “I’m sorry. But it was really nice to see you again!”

You don’t want him to leave! You want to keep talking to him! You want to know if he’s happy, if he’s got a wife or a girlfriend, if he still likes listening to metal, if chocolate icecream is still his go to flavor.

But he’s already walking away.

“Leon, wait!” you call. “Before you go!” 

He turns and you reach into your purse and pull out one of your business cards. He takes it with his left hand and peers at it. There's no ring on his finger.

“What’s this for?” he asks

“Just in case you need legal advice,” you joke. “Or if you just want to catch up.”

He smiles and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. You catch a glimpse of some sort of badge as he tucks the card carefully inside. “I’ll do that,” he says, and then he's gone.

You settle into your temporary office and log into your computer to begin going through case files. It's humdrum work, but necessary for the success of your client's appeal. But, not five minutes into this, your work phone starts ringing.

Expecting either your boss or a paralegal, you pick it up and introduce yourself by name.

“Uh, whoa,” says the person on the other end. “That was fancy and professional.”

You'd know that voice anywhere.

“Leon?”

He laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, hi. How're you doing?”

You lean back in your seat and twirl the phone cord around your finger, a bashful smile spreading across your face. “Well, not much has changed in the last 20 minutes, to be honest. But it's nice to hear your voice again.”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he replies. “You, too. I hope I'm not interrupting something.”

“You're not,” you assure him. “Although I'm not technically supposed to take personal calls on this line.”

“Yeah, I figured that,” he replies. “But this is the only way I could really contact you.”

“Oh yeah?” You bite your bottom lip, trying to fight a smile. “And what was so urgent that you just had to call me?”

There's rustling on the other end, Leon must be switching the phone to his other ear. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, like he's nervous. Your heartbeat speeds up in anticipation. 

“Well,” he says. “I was just thinking how nice it was to talk to you again. I was hoping we could do that again. Soon. Maybe over coffee?”

It takes all your willpower not to squeal like a teenager. But you're a professional. 

You clear your throat and try to act nonchalant. “Coffee sounds nice.”

“Great!” Leon sounds thrilled. “It's a date!”

“A date?” you tease.

“Uh… I mean… only if you want it to be,” he hurries to clarify. “You still have your maiden name on your business card and I didn’t see a ring, so I assumed— fuck, do you have a boyfriend?”

He meant a date date. You feel a thrill of excitement.

“No,” you say quickly, “no boyfriend. No fiance or husband either… I’m single.”

“Oh, good,” he says, and you almost laugh at how relieved he sounds. “I don’t have any of those either.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend or husband?”

“No wife or girlfriend, either.”

Oh, so he’s got jokes now. You giggle again. God, when was the last time a man had you laughing like this?

“I'm only in D.C. for the summer,” You explain. “Just until the case is over. I don't know many places to get coffee.”

“Well, you're in luck,” he says. “Because I do! I know the perfect place!”

The coffeeshop he recommends is a tiny, hole-in-the-wall place with the best espresso you've had in years. You and Leon plan for only an hour at most, but stay there chatting for nearly two. He even walks you to your car, and as you drive away, watching him wave goodbye in the rearview mirror, you realize that you had done most of the talking. At first, you want to shrivel up and die from embarrassment. Everyone always says that you talk too much, and there you went, yammering away…

But Leon had asked me out again, the other half of your brain pipes up. And he never disliked you talking in the past!

Emboldened by this realization, and determined to eek more information out of Leon next time, you continue on your way.

And so, one coffee date turns into two, then three. Reconnecting with Leon is… it's just amazing. He's older now, hardened by life in a way you can't quite fathom, but he's still so handsome and sweet and attentive. You can forgive his slightly awkward mannerisms and weird schedule and how cagey he is about his job. The first point is nothing new, of course, it's part of what charmed you in the first place, all those years ago. The weird schedule you chalk up to his job, and if it really is government stuff, you can understand why he's so secretive.

Of course, he can't stop you from daydreaming about what his job is, and your imagination thinks up all sorts of dashing occupations. Secret Service, CIA, FBI, Homeland Security… It's fun to imagine him as the dashing hero, leaping in to save the President himself from an assassination or single-handedly stopping a foreign spy organization. He probably looks hot as hell in a fancy suit, sunglasses, and an earpiece.

Coffee dates are nice and all, but you find yourself wanting more. You hint at it a fee times, Leon is oblivious as ever, so you ask him directly. 

“We should get dinner,” you say, pausing by your car. Leon has walked you out to it, just like he always does after your coffee dates. “Somewhere romantic.”

You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. He's quiet for a second, staring back. 

“I thought you liked coffee?” He asks, looking like he thinks he's seriously misjudged the situation. You just laugh, putting your hand on his arm.

“I do!” You assure him. “But I also like pasta and wine.”

Leon looks relieved. “Oh. Well, I do know a good Italian place!”

You beam. “Yeah? Is it nice?”

“Very,” he assures you. “Very hard to get into, but I can pull some strings.” He winks. “Perks of the job.”

You aren't sure if he's joking or not, but you like the idea of it, at least. 

“Exciting,” you giggle, leaning close to him. “Should we go this weekend?”

Leon's face falls. “I can't do this weekend,” he admits.

“That's okay!” You're quick to reassure him. “We can do next! Or the one after.”

“No, next weekend is perfect,” he says, looking relieved. “I'll have to make a reservation, but I'll call you, okay?”

You let out an excited squeal and throw your arms around Leon's neck, kissing him before you can think.

This is the first time you've kissed since— well, since you broke up the first time. You almost pull away, but Leon cups the back of your neck and kisses back.

He's a better kisser than he used to be, that's for sure, and the whole thing leaves you breathless and weak-kneed. 

He grins at your dazed expression, licking his lips and looking very pleased with himself.

“Next weekend, then?”

You reach up to wipe away a smear of your lipstick off the corner of his mouth. 

“Next weekend,” you agree.

Leon promises to pick you up at 7 PM on Friday night. The two of you text back and forth almost nonstop as the night approaches, exchanging phone calls whenever possible. You're so excited that you even pick out your outfit days in advance.

Then, one day, the communication from Leon just… stops.

It's a day before your date, so you try not to worry too much. Something probably came up. But you find yourself checking your phone almost obsessively. No reply.

You push down your worry and get yourself ready for the date. You choose your favorite set of lingerie to wear under your little black dress, just in case, and probably spend way too long on your makeup.

Nonetheless, you're ready a good hour before he's scheduled to pick you up. You wait nervously for an hour, pacing your hotel room, then snap a picture of yourself to send to him. No answer. By 7:20 PM you're furious with him. By 7:45, you're in tears.

At 8 PM, you're pissed AND crying and a knock sounds at your door. You tear it open, ready to give Leon a piece of your mind, but stop in your tracks. 

Leon looks like shit. He's wearing a rumpled suit and his hair is a mess. Deep shadows show under his eyes, a bruise is forming on the left side of his jaw, and his chin is covered in three day old stubble.

He thrusts a bouquet of flowers into your arms.

All your anger drains out of you, all at once, replaced with concern.

“What *happened*?!” You blurt. Leon flushes. 

“I'm sorry,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse, like he's been yelling for twelve hours straight. “It was a work thing.”

He scratches the back of his head and the movement raises his rumpled shirt, allowing you to see the ugly yellow-purple of a bruise on his hip. 

“A work thing?” You prompt.

He winces. “I can't… tell you.”

What the hell?

“What do you mean you can't tell me?”

“I mean I can't tell you!” He snaps, his eyes darkening for a second. “Okay?”

You can't help but flinch and Leon's shoulders slump when he catches it. “I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I just… can't.”

You wonder if he can't or won't… but you don't press it. 

“You want to come in?” You ask softly.

“I thought we had a dinner reservation?” He asked, glancing at his watch.

“We did,” you say. “But you're an hour late. We missed it.”

Leon, somehow, looks even more forlorn at those words. “I'm sorry,” he says again. “I was in a different timezone, I didn't reset my watch and—”

“Leon.” You interrupt the beginnings of a spiral with a firm voice. “It's fine.”

You step back from the door and wave him inside. “Come on. I want to put these flowers in water.”

Leon shuffles in after you. He stands there, in the tiny entryway, and looks around your hotel room, shoving his hands in his pockets. You don't really have a vase for the flowers, come to think of it. Fancy hotels like this come with all sorts of amenities, but vases are not one of them. You waver for a moment, before grabbing the complimentary ice bucket and filling it with water from the bathroom sink.

Leon watches silently as you arrange the flowers, before speaking up.

“I should have brought a vase, too,” he says. “Sorry. I didn't think—”

You smile at him. “Hey, don't worry. It seems like you have a lot on your mind.”

He cracks a wry smile. “You're telling me.”

With the tension leaking away, you lean forward and smell a rose.

“Are they still your favorite?” He asks.

“I'm sorry?”

Leon gestures toward the bouquet. “Pink roses. Are they still your favorite flower?”

Honestly, pink roses haven't been your favorite flower since college… but the fact that Leon remembered that they were immediately bumps them up to number one once more.

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

And Leon beams. 

You don’t notice him approach you until his hand smooths down your back. You turn to look up at him, taking in his tired eyes and apologetic expression. You wonder again what his job is, and then wonder if you really want to know. Maybe ignorance is bliss.

“I’m sorry for missing our date,” he says softly. “Let me make it up to you.”

“We could try again tomorrow,” you murmur, turning fully to face him. “Or next week, if that doesn’t work out.”

“Sure,” he replies, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. “But I was thinking of doing something a little more… immediate.”

He bends to kiss you, tender and slow, and you let yourself lean into it. Leon always kisses you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing in existence, he touches you like he’s afraid you’ll break, and you know he means it. You know that you matter to him.

You’re breathing heavily when the two of you finally part. Leon pulls back slowly, his eyes searching your face, looking a little shy but also a little proud of himself. He licks his lips, glances past you at the bed, then meets your eyes again.

“Wanna move this over there?” he asks, gesturing toward it with his head. Your heart skips a beat with anticipation. 

“Sounds good,” you breathe.

That night, you fall asleep in Leon’s arms, well and truly satisfied in a way you haven’t been in a long time. He’s clearly more experienced and more confident than the boy you slept with in college, but he’s still him. Still adoring, still attentive, still a little shy. 

He pretty much lets you take the lead the whole night and while he doesn’t say it outright, you get the impression that he just wants to be taken care of. If you notice tears in his eyes at the end, you don’t comment on it and neither does he.

He drops off soon after you finish, lying on his back like a soldier. You watch him for a few minutes, admiring the curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose, the dimple in his chin and the moles on his neck. There’s a scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before, a thin white line nearly hidden by his stubble. You wonder how he got it. Probably doing something heroic, knowing him. You fall asleep entertaining little fantasies of Leon being a hero and saving the day.

You're awoken by Leon stirring in the bed next to you. You don't worry too much. You're a light sleeper after all.

You puff your pillow and get comfy again. Behind you, Leon stirs again, a soft groan escaping him.

You roll over, a little concerned. He has his arm slung over his face, but you can see a frown on his lips. He's breathing heavily, but you don't want to wake him up if you don't have to. He looked so exhausted when he came here earlier. It's probably nothing. You close your eyes again, but another soft groan from Leon has you opening them again.

You push up on one elbow, a little frown on your face. He's probably dreaming about something, but you can't tell if it's good or bad. His arm drops off his face, his fingers balling in the sheets. 

“No…” He mumbles. “Please…”

A nightmare, then. You sit up fully and reach for him, but before you can touch him, Leon flings out his arm, inadvertently smacking your hand away, and cries, “Ashley, no!”

Ashley? Who the hell is that?

You shake your head. Now is not the time for that, not with Leon in the midst of a night terror.

You reach out again, grabbing his shoulder and giving him a harsh shake.

“Leon!”

He doesn't wake right away, his head tossing side to side and his face screwed up.

You try again.

“Leon! Wake up!”

Leon jerks upright and the world spins sideways, your back hitting the bed with a thump and all the air rushing out of you. A weight presses down on you, arms pinned above your head.

You glimpse Leon above you and faintly register that the force across your neck and shoulders is his forearm. He doesn't seem to see you, even though his blue eyes are wide with terror.

“Leon?” You croak out.

“Fuck,” he gasps, suddenly seeing you. “Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You're able to catch your breath again as Leon scrambles off you and through the ringing in your ears you hear him stumbling around the room. You sit up just as the bathroom door slams closed.

Behind it, you hear retching.

You don't know what to do. You sit shell-shocked in the bed, surrounded by rumpled blankets and pillows and stare at the thin strip of light shining from beneath the bathroom door. You rub your hand over your sore clavicle.

What on earth was that? Why would Leon react like that after being woken up from a nightmare? And who the hell is Ashley? It was like Leon didn't even see you when he woke up, like he was stuck somewhere else, living through something horrible. What has he gone through in these ten years you've been apart? Does it have anything to do with his beat up appearance earlier? With the scars you noticed on his body? Did this Ashley have something to do with it? 

Bzzzzzzzt-bzt-bzzzzzzzzzt-bzt-bzzzzzzzzt

You're torn out of your that's by Leon's cellphone, vibrating on the bedside table. Jesus Christ, who calls at— you check the alarm clock next to the bed— 4 AM?

You untangle yourself from the covers and pick up the phone. Should you answer it? Leon doesn't seem to be coming out anytime soon and it seems urgent enough that the caller is attempting to reach him in the middle of the night.

You lick your lips nervously and flip open the phone, raising it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Where's Leon?” The voice on the other end demands. It's female. “Who are you?”

You want to ask the same thing, but you're the one answering a phone that isn't yours. You introduce yourself and the woman on the other end blows out a sigh.

“Oh,” she says bluntly. She clearly knows who you are even if Leon has never mentioned her to you. “Well, can you give Leon the phone? It's urgent.

She doesn't have to sound so annoyed!

“Sure,” you say, sliding off the bed. “Who should I say is calling?”

“April.”

Not the mysterious Ashley, then. That makes you feel marginally better for some reason. 

You pad over to the bathroom and knock on the door.

“Leon? Your phone rang.”

“...Let it go to voicemail,” he mumbles hoarsely from the other side. Oops.

“I already picked up for you,” you reply sheepishly, feeling for all the world like you've made a massive blunder. “It's someone named April?”

“Goddammit,” he mumbles, and the door swings open. In the harsh fluorescent lights he looks like a fucking mess, far worse than he did earlier than night. You can clearly see the bruises, cuts, and scars on his naked torso. His hair is rumpled, his hairline beaded with sweat. He barely meets your eyes, just takes the phone ever so gently from your hand and raises it to his ear.

“Hey, April…” He says tiredly.

You can't hear what she says in reply but you don't want to leave Leon alone, either. He looks like he's about to fall apart for God's sake. You lean against the doorframe and study him. 

You can't stand the way he's hunched in on himself like he's trying to make himself look smaller than he is and the exhausted, defeated tone in his voice makes your heart ache.

“Okay,” he whispers into the phone. “Okay. I'll be there.”

You're pulled out of your contemplation as he snaps the cellphone shut, looking up into his eyes. 

“Is everything okay?”

He grunts noncommittally. “I gotta go.”

Go? At 4 AM? Where?!

“What?!”

Leon scoots past you cautiously, not even meeting your eyes.

“Work,” he mumbles.

You turn, staring at his back incredulously as he pulls on his pants and shirt. “What do you mean work?” You challenge.

“Something came up.”

He doesn't turn toward you so you're left staring at the stiff line of his shoulders as he buttons up his shirt. 

Some random woman calls him in the middle of the night and he's immediately running at her beck and call? Something like jealousy rears its ugly head.

“Who's April?” You ask, not liking the nasty tone in your voice. 

Leon doesn't react. “A friend,” he says vaguely, pulling on his suit jacket.

“A friend calling at 4 AM about work,” you say disbelievingly. “Right.”

That gets a reaction. Leon turns to face you fully and the defeated look on his face immediately tosses all your jealousy and anger out the window. He looks like a kicked puppy.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I wish I didn't have to go.”

You cross the room and pull him into a hug, resting your head on his chest. Leon clings to you, nuzzling his face into your hair, and rocks you side to side. The two of you stand like that for a few minutes, then Leon lets out a long, exhausted sigh.

“I have to go,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “I'll call you as soon as I can and I'll make it up to you, I promise. Anything you want, I'll do it for you.”

You tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “I want you to be careful.”

He nods. “I can do that.”

“And I want you to take me out on a proper date when you're back,” you add, smiling a little to show you're not too serious. But Leon nods determinedly. “Got it. One proper date, coming up. It'll be awesome.”

He cups your face in his hands and ducks his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

“See you soon,” he promises, then he's gone.

You watch him walk down the hall, away from you, and can't help but feel like he's walking out of your life, too.

Taglist: @hiya-itsamber

[starrystevie]

"it's a vhs night, huh?" eddie asks as he comes out of the kitchen, two mugs of decaf coffee in one hand, a box of oreos in the other. steve's on his knees in front of the tv with tapes scattered around him, a mixture of home movies and mashed up concert recordings and episodes of star trek that are bound to get recorded over eventually. he turns around as his husband enters the living room and opens his mouth for a cookie that eddie happily feeds him.

"yeah, why not?" he gives eddie a half smile that makes the crows feet around his eyes crinkle even more. "just feeling nostalgic, i guess."

eddie hums and sits on his end of the couch before pulling one foot up to cross over his knee. he takes a sip of the bitter black coffee and dunks an oreo in to soften it up then pops it into his mouth. steve finally settles on a video and rewinds it to the start, curling up on his side of the cushions with his feet tucked under eddie's thigh. a hand finds its way around his ankle and a thumb strokes at the soft skin it can find. gentle, comforting, home.

the grainy picture on the screen straightens out and the sound clicks on along with it. the greens of the grass are a little faded and the blue of the sky is dull but it's still clear enough to make out steve on the swings at the park down the road from loch nora. steve's mom is behind the camera yelling for him to pump your legs, good job stevie, there you go, wow you're going so high and the grin on the boy's face is a wide as the sky above him.

"you were so cute, what happened?" eddie murmurs with a chuckle causing steve to slap at the thigh currently warming his feet.

"i'm still cute, thank you very much." steve grumbles out his response which makes eddie chuckle again, leaning over with a groan to smash a kiss to his cheek.

there's little voices echoing in the background as steve continues to swing and the video switches suddenly to him on a red check blanket eating a sandwich. he has jelly on his cheek in the same place that eddie had placed a kiss not a minute earlier and it has them both cooing like the old men they are.

but then there's a flash of something in the background. a little kid runs by followed by what's presumably his mother and it distracts little steve, who turns on his blanket to watch the two running.

"is that...?" steve starts, turning to eddie who's staring at the screen with rapt attention. the gasp he gets in return is the only answer he could possibly need. the hand around his ankle gets a little tighter and he watches as a watery smile spreads across eddie's face, salt-and-pepper beard crinkling up on his cheeks.

"that's me, that's-" he breathes out, curling in on himself slightly to peer closer at the video. in the video, steve's still staring at the little boy in the park getting picked up by his mom and being thrown in the air. his little giggles break through the speakers as his mom catches him, cradling him to her chest as she runs off screen. they come back into frame a few seconds later and crash side-by-side onto the grass. their arms start pointing at the sky like they're finding shapes in the clouds and eddie inhales sharply. "-that's my mom."

steve reaches down and clasps his hand around eddie's where it's still on his bony ankle, trailing his fingers over his husband's. eddie looks up and tosses a bewildered grin at steve who catches it easily and returns it with one of his own. as if they have magnets stored in their hearts from where the universe made them for each other, the two move closer to one another instinctually until they have arms around waists and fingers tangled together and heads on shoulders.

they sit in silence for the next few minutes, reliving a time when they were still boys with their mothers, happy and loved, not even knowing their soulmate was right next to them.

[ani-iu]

[𝟑] 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 | angel 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 × female human 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: marriage of convenience; forced proximity; angst; domestic; crack treated seriously; possessive Adam; he falls first and harder; misogyny; Adam being Adam; explicit language; religious imagery & symbolism; sexual tension; eventual smut; happy ending; not canon compliant. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7,7k.

// blue-eyed altruist, keep your distance, but not too far

𝐀dam hates coffee.

He doesn’t like the earthy smell, finding it difficult to understand how anyone could derive enjoyment from something so unsavoury. And the bitter taste — it always, without fail, fades into the anticlimactic acidic aftertaste on his tongue, so already having endured a string of disappointments in his life, Adam opts out of drinking caffeine to spare himself from even more misery.

Yet, at this moment, as the black stainless steel exterior of the coffee vending machine swallows up the reflection of Adam’s black mask — only leaving an amber frown and two glaring eyes staring back at him visible — Adam feels like the happiest soul in Heaven. The bliss, however, is bittersweet.

By now, a couple of hours have passed since Adam and Lute split up so he could go to Sera’s office alone. But here he is, standing in the empty lobby, stalling the eventual visit for as long as he possibly can. He wasn’t afraid of the seraph; he was merely not in the mood to receive a stern talking to.

Silence means loneliness, and Adam, unable to tolerate either, as soon as the machine grows quiet, allowing that dreadful interval of quietude to settle in and the pungent aroma of coffee to reach his nose, throws the coffee cup into the trash can and restarts the process. The cacophony of mechanical and liquid sounds makes the otherwise deathly silence at least somewhat bearable to endure, allowing Adam to test Sera’s patience with his absence for longer. 

The high-pitched string of single-tone beeps signals the completion of another order and diverts Adam's attention from his thoughts, but just as he turns to take the steaming cup and throw it away, he sees Sera's horrifying reflection in the sleek exterior.

"Fuck, Sera! You can’t sneak up on a guy like that!"

"Adam, you are testing my patience." As it echoes through the empty foyer, the seraph's mellow tone of voice is both authoritative and commanding, making her presence felt all the way to Adam's very bones. If you were to ask Adam, he would tell you that the calmness was even worse than if she were to scream at him. "I thought I told your lieutenant I wanted to see you immediately."

"Can’t a guy get a drink first? I had a long day—"

Sera, who is quite familiar with Adam's tendency to change the topic he is not particularly eager to discuss, cuts the angel's prattling short by going straight to the matter at hand. "What is a mortal doing in Heaven?"

"Wow, straight to the point, huh? Well, you all are always on my ass about my way of life, so I decided to change that!"

"You married that mortal." Sera grits through her teeth. She foolishly clung to the hope that perhaps Adam had only brought you here as another rendezvous of his, but marriage, especially if it was officiated by an archangel, was a huge deal.

Adam has the nerve to act surprised. "Oh, so Daniel already ratted me out?"

"No, you did that yourself, but now I will be having a word with archangel Daniel as well for officiating this sacrilegious excuse of matrimony, which, may I add, makes it impossible to send the mortal back! Jaw-dropping, truly. Every single time, Adam, you manage to surprise me with your actions. How did you even get a hold of her?"

"Oh, that's actually a funny story. You should have seen the stunt she pulled in Hell!"

"And that’s where you should have left her — in Hell! Be their problem, not ours!" Sera momentarily raises her voice an octave higher before catching herself and attempting to calm down. She takes a deep breath and exhales, brushing her hair back away from her face while doing so. "Why did she even agree to this?"

Confident to a fault, but having every reason to believe his words, Adam puffs his chest out and points his thumb at himself. "Who can say no to this? Every woman out there wants a piece of the original dick! I just need to pick one of many."

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." At that moment, it seemed like a reasonable statement to make in an attempt to silence the first man, but that didn't make it less cruel. In front of Sera’s many eyes — visible and not — Adam’s expressive LED mask effortlessly twists his glowing features into a look of pain, although only for a fleeting moment. As soon as Adam gets ahold of his unspoken feelings, Sera concludes their conversation, her tone staying resolute. "Usually wisdom comes with age, but I see that there are instances where age comes alone. I expect you to deal with this problem you created for yourself appropriately. If you keep her under control, I won't interfere. If you are unable to do so, I will. Just like I did with Eve."

And just like that, Adam is left alone, but this time, he is able to stay in that spot for as long as he wants to.

Glancing at the waiting cup of coffee, still steaming away on the drip tray, Adam chucks it into the trash and is about to snap himself to his destination when his gaze gets stuck on his hand. With a defeated sigh, he turns around and strides towards the left wing of the enormous building where all the archangels reside.

Raphael is the last archangel Adam wants to see — ever — usually avoiding the heavenly being as much as he possibly can, which isn’t that hard when the first man is an immortal being who can’t get hurt. But keeping your bleeding wound at the forefront of his mind, Adam has no choice but to seek out the angel of healing of his own volition.

Adam doesn't knock, pushing the door the same way one rips off a band-aid. But instead of experiencing temporary discomfort, he is met with a slender, pale-faced figure.

The eyes, which usually symbolise these celestial beings' all-seeing and omnipresent nature, are tightly wrapped in a white cloth, but a lack of sight doesn't make Raphael's all-pervasive perception any less so. With such a statement, he blatantly showed that he doesn’t need sight to see through others.

Raphael's pride is just another thing he has in common with his fallen brother, apart from their near-identical appearances.

"Adam."

"You already know why I'm here."

Raphael puts his quill down and tilts his head at Adam. "Yes, Sera can be very loud when she wants to. So you really are here because of the mortal? Finally decided to seek my help?"

"She got burned by hellfire. I need something for the wound."

"I was talking about you."

"I’m not hurt."

"That’s what you seem to be desperately trying to convince me of, or are you trying to convince yourself?"

Raphael’s words are met with petulant silence.

The archangel rests his chin in his palm, lazily drawing the silhouette of a bottle in the air with his finger, while Adam watches how an invisible scribble turns into a tangible object before his eyes. Having grabbed Adam's attention, Raphael uses the opportunity wisely. "Not all wounds are physical, and not all of them can be remedied with divine healing. If you want to open your heart to someone again, first you have to mend it together. It has been bleeding for decades, but love heals. Self-love is also love, Adam. You can’t love someone without loving yourself first." The bottle of dark glass grows heavy and starts to drop down, falling into Raphael’s waiting palm. "The burn of hellfire will be the least of her worries if you don’t take into account what I said, Adam."

Snatching the flask of holy water away from the archangel's grasp, Adam teleports instantly back to his apartment. He planned to fly back, but he couldn’t spend a second longer in the same vicinity as Raphael.

If Adam pretended that nothing happened today, it just might seem that way at first glance. All of the furniture is still in its place, and the dust on it is left undisturbed, yet the man can’t help but notice little details like the coffee table being a bit turned to the side while the room feels warmer somehow — more lively and not as empty. Or was it Adam’s subconscious not allowing him to entertain a thought of you not being in his life?

His legs instinctively lead him toward the bedroom, where a small crack in the door allows him to catch a glimpse of the inside without fully stepping into the room.

The moonlight spilling in through the open windows illuminates the minimalistic space. Its rays are softer than the sun's — not as harsh on the eyes — and bathe your feminine features in cool watercolour shades, making you and your existence feel more and more like a dream than reality to the silent observer that is Adam. Adam doesn't even notice when he steps inside, discarding his mask near the bed and sitting on its edge, your sleeping self right behind him.

In the huge bed, you look so tiny and vulnerable — the bedding looks like puffy clouds swallowing you up in dreamy white. But even in deep sleep, you don’t look at peace.

"Mngh…"

Your breathing is laborious as you toss and turn, so Adam thoughtfully glides his index finger along the curve of your body, sliding the long digit under the tightly wrapped strips of fabric and softly tugging on them to loosen up the dress. Almost instantaneously, your lungs take a greedy gulp of air once the pressure on your chest elevates, so fragile and alive…

Adam's hand goes to hover above your face, not yet daring to touch your pinkened cheeks. Instead, he starts small, carefully bringing his leathery fingers down towards soft, warm skin and brushing away a few hair strands that are obstructing his view. But that is when you unconsciously turn your head and nuzzle your cheek into his hand. Adam holds his breath as he watches you closely. Your lips look as mildly intoxicating as the wine you drank, seducing Adam into pressing his own to get a taste. Staring at you in such a way almost feels gluttonous, as if savouring you without your knowledge or consent is one of the sins God warned humanity about, an ever-tantalising morsel…

But just as Adam lowers his face to be merely a hair's breadth away, a feeling of doubt crosses his mind.

Did you drink the wine so that it would be easier to face him? And instead of kissing your lips, he ends up planting a lingering kiss beneath them — on your chin.

Adam's hand, which supports his weight and lays flat beside your head, grips the sheet in anger at himself. He hates himself for his childish dreams of wanting to be loved in this lifetime, for yearning to have someone breathe life into his mundane days, and for wishing for someone who would occupy his self-loathing mind with meaningless conversations.

"Mmm… Marcel…"

He loosens his grip on the sheet and sits up.

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." Sera's words echo inside Adam's head as if his own inner voice isn't taking enough space in it as it is.

Adam knew a thing or two about forbidden things. He understood how perilous they were and what misery they could bring him if he indulged in them, but there was also the indescribable sweetness that almost made it all better.

He takes your burnt hand into his own — your human skin sharply contrasting with the inky black of his palm — and covers the weeping wound in holy water. With his thumb, he gently moves the liquid back and forth until it all disappears, washing away the blood and pain while only leaving a scar. Hellfire was no joke.

After giving you one last look, Adam gets up from his seat and retreats back to his spot on the couch.

He indulged himself enough for one day.

» » »

It takes you a while to blink your sore eyes open — the room you are in is just too bright.

You toss and turn, pulling the sheets closer to you with involuntary movements. Slightly disoriented, you finally open your eyes, and as your brain connects the dots, the sleepy bliss disappears. You can feel your stomach drop at the realisation that all of it was not a nightmarish hallucination. The room is Adam’s bedroom, as in the first fucking man from the Bible, and you are in Heaven — a place, not a state of bliss.

"God, I’m so fucked." You groan while palming at your eyes. It takes you a few deep breaths in and out to calm yourself down, but once you do and roll to lie on your back, another problem makes itself known.

The wedding dress that had been so tightly wrapped around you yesterday is now just a pile of loose pieces of silk hastily draped over your body, leaving too much skin exposed to the chilly morning air and to anyone’s eyes if they decided to walk in the room. Most importantly, you had your new husband to watch out for, and as that realisation dawns on you, you sit up in the bed while hugging yourself, desperately searching around for something to use as a shield from his perverted gaze. Luckily, it doesn't take you long to spot a neatly folded fabric at the foot of the bed.

Scooting closer, you reach for the garment and unfold it to get a better look. The fabric is so silky smooth that it slides between your fingers like quicksilver. It is cold to the touch, but you have little choice; the other one is to walk naked, so putting on the new dress it is.

You glance at the door before standing up. With the remnants of your previous dress pooled around your legs, you pull the new one over your head. An involuntary shiver shakes your body, but with the help of your body heat, the fabric quickly warms up. If only everything could get better so swiftly. 

The dress is more comfortable, less tight, and has long bell sleeves that leave only the tips of your fingers visible. Still no underwear, but beggars can't be choosers.

All dressed up, you plop back onto the bed, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Deep inside you, a conflict rages between your stubbornness and insatiable curiosity. The wine hangover helps the latter prevail, so you warily walk out of the room.

With your heart pounding, you trail your palm across the walls for support, listening for any noise and searching your mind for the appropriate words. How does one start a conversation in this kind of situation? 

As you reach the corner behind which the living room resides, you stand up straighter, take a deep breath, and step forward with way more confidence than you feel at the moment.

Only to find the space empty. All that pep talk, only for Adam to be nowhere to be seen. Did he even come back home yesterday?

But instead of relief at the angel's absence, a cold, freezing feeling of dread washes over you, to the point it makes your skin prickle. Sure, you would prefer going back to your old life with no Adam in sight, but if you can’t, you are ready to accept your new normal. This is why, without Adam around, you feel the loneliness and emptiness that you felt when you got the news of Marcel’s passing. 

Adam can't die like Marcel did, so his absence is intentional. 

Brushing your hair away from your face, you turn your back towards the living room and face the darkness of the corridor with new resolve. You will do your best to make the most of this situation and use your husband’s absence to look for a way to bring your dead boyfriend back from Hell.

There is one more door further down that was left unexplored yesterday — the one you push open, allowing the morning sun to kiss you all over your face. It warms you up like a mother’s hug, and you feel a bit better until you see what type of room it is.

Jackpot.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause. Given your affinity for reading, you naturally begin by scanning the leathery spines on the bookshelves.

Gold decorative elements on the spines give off a sense of elegance and luxury, but they emit any lettering that would hint at or spell out a title. When you hook your finger and drag one out of the row, it's a blind guess.

The book has some weight to it, which only adds to the impression of its value in all aspects, but as you open it, it lacks the one thing that is most precious to you. The high-quality paper is pleasant to the touch yet is worthless without any ink staining it. 

You flip through the rest of the book, but all pages are like that — empty.

All the same, you painstakingly go through every book. You pick each one with the same exact care as the one before it, skimming through pages on the off chance that one of them will contain something, and after sifting through three shelves worth of books, you would choose any language over blank pages. But as you close the last one and put it on top of a pile, the reality sets in.

You believed that nothing could be more disheartening than finding yourself stranded far from home in a loveless marriage. That is, until now, as you sit on the ground, surrounded by nothing but empty leather shells and an emptier mind. 

You stand up and begin putting everything back, and as you reach the last volume, you hug it close to your chest, refusing to accept defeat. Maybe I need some kind of looking glass to be able to read? This is Heaven after all, and naturally, a human couldn’t simply access something that might be deemed sensitive information.

With that, you turn toward the desk.

Come on, Mr. 'I’m so important' should have something useful in his freaking house.

The desk has paperwork in the drawers, but they look like basic forms that probably should have been filled out and signed.

I’m starting to think that either his importance is inflated or he actually doesn’t do anything.

You want to stay confident, but the revelation hits you in the gut. Despair, headache, and hunger unite their forces, and you slump into the armchair by the desk — defeated. It’s difficult to stay optimistic when everything seems to be working against you.

Having nothing else to do, you pick yourself up and give the room one last glance before stepping out and closing the door behind you.

And then your bad mood is only made worse by the unsurprisingly empty kitchen.

You swallow down the taste of nausea at the back of your tongue and turn to face the rest of the living space while leaning your back against the kitchen counter. As you gaze around, you chew at your bottom lip, debating if it’s time for self-cannibalism.

The coffee table is empty of any trash, so Adam must have come back for at least a second. Now the important question is what he did while he was home if he didn’t leave anything for his very alive wife.

Your eyes move to the side of the main area, where you maintain eye contact with another living thing in the apartment — the potted plants. Walking closer towards them, you sink your middle and index fingers into the pot, touching the soil to find it freshly watered.

So, he had half a mind to take care of the plants, but not you? Noted.

Hunger turns into anger as you storm towards the wine cellar to pick up a fresh bottle of poison.

You wonder if this is his tactic to make you succumb to him. Does he think that if he isolates you for a long enough period of time, you would jump in joy to see him, simply because you would crave that human connection? If so, he underestimates you greatly.

You will jump him alright, with a knife at hand.

You get comfortable on the couch, snuggling into the soft blankets. They smell like him, but the scent is surprisingly pleasant, so you don't mind it too much as you nurse a bottle of red wine and patiently wait.

Contrary to popular belief, you weren’t a confrontational person. You wished nothing less than to go back to the bedroom, mind your business, and wait till the next day for Adam to leave. Rinse and repeat. But no, you couldn’t afford that now. Now knowing that there is nothing of value to be found in the house pertaining to your plans, you have no choice but to be confrontational.

When you notice the first signs of the evening in the room, you put the half-empty bottle on the coffee table and begin slowly flipping through the empty pages of the book that you snatched from the decoy study. It's a poor attempt to make yourself get lost in thought, and it gives your fidgeting fingers something to do — not to mention it is more interesting than looking at a plain corner. 

You wonder what time it is in Hell, and where Marcel is right now. Is he lying in bed just like you, thinking of you the way you are thinking of him? You know that he is, and that's what keeps you company. The knowledge that wherever he is now, he is with you in thoughts and memories — happy and sad ones. You now cherish every single one.

And that’s when the front door finally opens.

"Oh, you’re still awake?"

Adam is noticeably a bit surprised to find you sitting comfortably on the couch with a new wine bottle opened and standing tall on the coffee table. There’s a glass beside it, half full.

You glance up from the decoy book. "You hoped I wasn’t, huh?"

"Huh?" He dares to act confused.

"What’s your long-term goal? What’s the gain? You just tore me away from everything I once knew, only to leave me all on my own to navigate the land of the dead!" The sound that is created by you loudly closing the book acts like the exclamation mark to your abridged list of grievances, and when you — not so gently — throw it on the coffee table, it reopens and displays the nothingness you have been looking at this whole time. It's a silent testament — one of many — to just how much effort Adam put into caring for you. So much, in fact, that he couldn't even provide you with something to occupy your time. But that is the least of his offences.

He finally closes the door behind him.

"You bitches are so fucking emotional, fuck. Can’t even step properly inside."

Silence.

You are now looking at Adam through your furrowed eyebrows, chewing on the skin of your lips in deep thought. Thank God you threw the book before he spoke; he can practically see the murder plans brewing inside your pretty little head. 

And then you smile, falling back onto the couch and rolling around like it is the most comfortable thing in the entire world — it isn't, which is why your words sound even more condescending.

"That’s a lovely couch you have there. Is that why you sleep on it instead of the bed?"

"...what?"

"Why don't you sleep in your bed?"

"I— uh, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I may be a dick—"

"No," you shake your head, leaning back against the backrest with your arms crossed. "You didn’t sleep there before me either."

"Pff, and you would know?"

"Why?" You ignore his fake display of cockiness.

"Why what—"

"You know damn well what I’m getting at. Don't act stupid, and do yourself a favour by not openly showing that you are not the brightest star in the sky. What’s wrong with the bed?" You would guess that the mask adorning his face serves a specific purpose. Without a doubt, it serves as an accessory on the battlefield, but its constant use leads you to believe that the man in front of you likes to hide his true feelings behind it. Too bad that his mask is just as expressive as the skin he hides underneath it. "It’s not a weakness to admit pain, you know? Talk to me." Give me something to work with...

"Listen, babe, I think this role of a ‘wife’ is getting into your head, as does the holy wine. I think you had enough of that, don’t you?"

He takes the bottle away from you before you can snatch it.

"Maybe leave me with food next time if you don’t want me drinking! How else am I supposed to sustain myself?!"

"Definitely not with liquid, and for your information, holy wine sustains the soul, not your mortal body, dumbass."

"Keyword — mortal! You want me to die?!"

As you scream at one another with such a hefty distance between you two, the situation kind of seems hilarious, if it wasn’t so fucked up.

"Sorry, I didn’t know that I couldn’t leave you by yourself for five fucking minutes as if you were a child! You know you’re free to roam around, little dove? The cage," he turns around and reopens the front door for effect. "Is unlocked."

"As if I will venture to a place that I know nothing about!"

"That didn’t stop you from going to the fucking Hell! Heaven is where you draw the line?! It’s the safest place there is, for fuck sake!"

In your fury-addled state of mind, you stand up on the couch, your bare feet sinking into the plush cushions.

"Maybe the sound doesn’t travel up to that height or you are just as empty as the books in your study, but all the same, let me rephrase my words. Ever think that it would be just as scary as a human to be around angels as it would be surrounded by demons?"

It turns out that wanting compassion out of the first man is useless.

"If only I knew beforehand that you would nag so much."

And for someone as primordial as the Earth itself, Adam comes across as very callow.

"You call me wanting to understand my husband more nagging? Or is it the part where I ask for basic human necessities?!"

It takes him exactly three steps to stand face to face with you. Your breath is visible on his mask.

"Oh, you want to do your wifely duties so badly?" He coo’s at you patronisingly, his voice so flat it makes you shiver in fear. "How about we start with consummating our marriage, hm?"

The words reach the desired reaction as Adam watches your face grow noticeably pale.

"Nothing to say? Can I speak now, or are you going to scream some more?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, tasting defeat. Once again, you lose the shiny spark of hope in your eyes, and Adam swears that the room grows darker just like the colour of your iris.

"I never thought I would have to fight for a marriage I didn’t even want. Why marry me if you have no need nor time for another person? If I wasn’t in a new environment and actually knew someone else who wasn’t you, believe me, I wouldn’t be begging for your company. You are not the prize you think you are. I’m a fish you plucked out of water and threw in a glass with water because, according to you, that’s everything a fish needs — something to breathe."

Adam doesn't stop you from climbing off the couch, nor does he run after you as you slink towards the bedroom.

After gently closing the door, you press yourself against it and slide down until the dress pools around you. You hide your face in your knees and let out a shaky breath. This is your life now: living in a place that will never be your home, surrounded by creatures who will never understand you. Even if these souls once were humans, they have long forgotten what it feels like — Adam is a wonderful example of that.

You don't know if you slept that night. You only know that your eyes were already open when the first rays of the morning sun started spilling into the bedroom. Everything is foggy in your mind as nightmares mix up with reality, until the line becomes so blurred that you don't know where one ends and where the other begins. 

After stupidly wasting too much time pressed against the door, you finally exit the bedroom when, to your relief and irritation, Adam is nowhere to be heard again. You don’t want to see his face after yesterday, but his absence also means that he didn’t care about anything you said to him — or about you, for that matter.

As you make your way through the empty apartment, the presence of the study behind you is almost palpable — mocking you behind your back for naively believing it would be of any use to you. However, you won't let a small disappointment deter you from seeking a way out of here.

Sure, being able to find everything you need in one place that you have complete access to would be ideal, but life is never this easy, and the afterlife, being an extension of it, is no different. Nonetheless, you already are planning what your next course of action is going to be, and for it to work out, all you need is to find out where Adam works and think of a diversion so he doesn't question you too much. Of course, on top of everything, having bravery would be an advantage, but it's not a requirement.

And just like the sun comes out after every storm, something in your peripheral vision catches your attention, leading to a growling stomach and a spark of sudden inspiration.

Surprisingly, Adam took into consideration your mortality and left you with a plethora of ingredients — killing two birds with one stone by providing you with something to eat and entertainment in the form of cooking. This is also the moment when you decide what you will use as a diversion in your plan.

Maybe you could slowly make Adam trust you over time, or, even better, somehow infiltrate the circle he’s frequenting until you get the useful information. But you are not known for being patient — determined and stubborn is a more correct description. And as you shove a freshly baked muffin into your mouth while putting the rest into one of the containers you've found, you hype yourself to finally leave the comfort of the apartment, despite your stomach churning with anxiety.

He wants you to venture outside on your own? You will… you will…

And you do.

Until now, you didn't have a chance to truly observe Heaven, but one thing is for certain — you look terribly out of place here.

It’s a very surreal experience, as though you've journeyed into the distant future. Perhaps it's because of all the Renaissance paintings you familiarised yourself with during your frequent visits to local museums and art galleries, but you truly believed that Heaven would have more fields filled with freely roaming animals rather than the anthropomorphic ones who are actually not so subtly staring at you as you pass them by.

Their reactions to you kind of explain the reason behind Adam's hideous mask. He did feel quite human looking underneath it, and judging by the looks you're getting, that's not a very common appearance around here.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find the first man?" You turn and direct your question at the first unfortunate winner you encounter, who appears to resemble a lamb. She even bleats like one, noticeably frightened by your presence and straightforwardness.

However, she is in heaven for a reason. The beautiful angel, unable to turn away a person in need, with a soft, high-pitched voice accompanying her hoof points towards one of the glass buildings and says, "You should find him there."

No maybes are muttered, only an assured statement as her white face blushes golden.

"Thank you."

But you don't care for nuances. Ultimately, you are simply content that you now know for certain where to look for Adam — inside of a particularly tall glass building outside which you now stand.

When you push the door open, its surface fogs up from your warm touch, leaving noticeable fingerprints behind. You tug on the sleeve of your dress and attempt to clean the smudging off, but it seems to only make the mess bigger and, in turn, more visible. Your skin prickles with hot embarrassment as you almost drop the box with your baked goods while trying to fix up the mess.

"Oh, sweetheart, where did your halo go?"

Startled, you jump a bit, causing the door to slam shut with a glass-rattling bang. Seeing no one at your eye level, you glance down to look at a small animal-like creature near your feet. The small sheep angel looks like what grape candy tastes like, dressed in various shades of periwinkle from head to hoof.

Before you can answer him, another voice cuts into the conversation.

"Obviously she’s human, Collin!"

You turn your head to see who the second voice belongs to and notice another tiny guy, but this one looks like a chubby human baby and a more familiar version of the small angels you have seen being depicted in paintings before. These small creatures are cherubim.

"H-human? In Heaven?!" The sheep cherub is soft-spoken, his voice remaining on the lower side even as he shouts.

"If I may ask," you clear your throat to catch the attention of the little cherubims. "Where could I find, um, Adam?"

But they just take the information you have given them and ignore your question entirely.

"It's not surprising that the first man allowed a human to roam freely around Heaven." The more human-looking cherub puffs out his tummy and huffs while crossing his tiny hands in front of his chest. 

"Cletus! You shouldn’t speak that way!"

That's when you feel someone tug on your free hand, the one with your wedding ring on.

"So the rumours are true…" the baby cherub whispers underneath his little button nose while the timid sheep jumps into action and finally gives you what you wanted.

"He’s currently at a meeting but should be back soon! You can wait in his office! It’s— actually let me write it down for you!"

With the directions written down in great detail, it doesn't take you long to reach your destination. You give a knock first, in the off chance that Adam got back, and you would have to execute your original plan. You don’t want to — it’s easier if he’s not there — but you will do anything for this to succeed.

The door is unsurprisingly unlocked, and when you step inside and look around, it all suddenly clicks to you. No wonder Adam doesn’t come home.

Adam's workspace looks like what one might expect a person's home to look like. It’s cosy and warm, filled to the brim with character, as each element conveys a deeper meaning without the need for Adam's voice. Now you know where he keeps his guitars or where he writes his music. And the furniture — now you notice that you haven’t seen any wooden furnishings anywhere else apart from Adam’s home and now his office. Everything else around Heaven is cold to the touch and glassy. You can't help but wonder if he builds everything himself. 

You finally snap out when the door, no longer being held by you, snaps close shut with a loud bang.

Right, you should probably get going.

However, there are even fewer things to be found here. It's all the same unfinished paperwork you have seen back in his home study, but this time there's not even a decorative bookcase filled with empty books to at least create an illusion.

You halt in your step when you hear footsteps and the sound of Adam’s voice nearby.

When the doors open, you are like a deer caught in headlights. You find yourself standing in the middle of the office, with no time or opportunity to hide. You guess there is no other choice for you but to go along with the original plan.

Another angel accompanies Adam; she resembles Lute in her attire, yet her complexion is darker and her hair is longer, with curls cascading down to her chest. She is standing flush with the taller angel as if attempting to squeeze through the narrow doorway at the same time as Adam. But although he is guiding her away from him, he’s doing so with softness and a light-hearted laugh while the smaller angel seems to drink up the affection with glowing cheeks.

You know you shouldn’t feel the way you do, but you can’t help but feel your heart squeezing up at the sight. And just as you consider ducking to hide under Adam's desk, he suddenly looks in your direction, and his face falls.

"Oh! Hello?" The female angel looks you up and down, craning her head a little bit to the side. "You must be one of the girls from the temples, right? I can’t believe the outdated dresses they make you wear there."

Somehow that stung, even though you didn’t choose your clothing yourself. You started getting used to them, this particular dress being quite comfortable and pretty in its own way, but now you just felt even more like a fool. It didn’t help that you already felt self-conscious — being a human and not an angel. In their eyes, dying could turn you into a sinner, implying that you didn't belong here. But also being branded as old-fashioned for your clothing was definitely a final nail in your imaginary coffin. 

Was Adam thinking the same way? Sure, he married you, but perhaps the Hell’s lighting played tricks on him, and now he realises after the fact just how unattracted he is to you. In the Archangel’s office, it was dark too. It would only make sense—

Wow, your self-esteem got really hit. That is the only explanation why you would care what he thinks.

You don’t say anything to her, just raise your hand so your palm is hovering above your head and move it back and forth to show the lack of a halo. This finally catches her attention, and with wide eyes and a meek apology, she leaves you and Adam alone in the room.

"How did you get in here?"

Adam doesn't sound frustrated with you, so that’s a relief. You swallow down any unsavoury words you might be tempted to say and grab a box of muffins from his desk.

"I took up your offer and went for a walk, also thought I would bring you this," you present him with the baked goods. "Think of it as a peace treaty."

He still looks sceptical, so you bite your inner cheek, put the box back on the wooden surface, and move toward Adam with slow steps.

"I’m really sorry for how I acted last night." There is only a small gap between you two as you, without looking away from his masked face, drop to your knees and sit down so that your butt rests on the heels of your feet. "What do you say, let's start over?"

Afraid he would start thinking too much when you want him to not do that, you don't wait for his answer and bring your hands to grasp both of his clothed thighs. You gather the fabric of his robe in your fists, pulling the garment up — all the while maintaining eye contact.

You feel Adam's fingers wrap around one of your wrists, which motivates you to now undo his belt. However, before you can do anything, Adam effortlessly pulls you up.

"You think I’m that dumb, wifey?" He tugs you by your arm until you are leaning against his stomach. "Save the last bit of your dignity and go home. You want me to believe, after the blowout of yesterday’s night, that suddenly you’re so head over heels for me while shaking like a leaf? Please."

But that’s what finally does it for you.

You free your wrist from his grasp and make your way towards the door without saying another word. You don't give a damn about where you're going or where you should go. At this moment, all you want is to reach the end of Heaven and jump off it. You didn't want to see Adam or the judgemental glances of angels and winners as you passed them by.

But just as you are about to reach for a handle, Adam — not wanting this to happen in a place that everyone can see — opens a portal where the door is, and that makes you fall through it straight onto the couch in the living room of your shared apartment.

"Are you really that upset about me not wanting to take advantage of you?" Adam yells as he steps through the portal himself.

"You are quite comfortable taking everything else from me, so I don’t see the problem with that, but no, for your information, that is the least I’m upset about." You sneer back at him. "Did my presence in Hell truly offend you this much that you decided to curse me for a life of misery?"

"Life of misery? Is that what you call a marriage you consented to?!" Adam instantly regrets his outburst. It was always so easy to cast the blame away from himself. Usually, he wasn't at fault, but your solemn face tells a different story. He made a huge mistake.

"I did, huh." With that, you push yourself up from the couch and turn to leave.

That’s when Adam grows desperate, scrambling to get you closer. He quickly gets back into your line of sight in an attempt to grab your hand.

"What do you want me to say?! That I didn’t think it through when I married you?? Bitches fall on their knees for me! They love me! What makes you so different? For your information, I take wedding wows extremely seriously, and I’m not some kind of monster to touch you when you don’t want me to. I–I didn’t want to come onto you and make you uncomfortable." Adam can't even bear to look you into your eyes. "I wanted your loyalty, that unrelenting devotion for myself. I didn’t think it through. I thought, at that moment, that I could take it, but it was never mine to take. But here you are, bending over backwards, trying to prove something! Is he really worth all of this? Do you think you are so brave for doing something like this? Sacrificing yourself for nothing?"

"For nothing?! I'm doing this for love! Love IS a sacrifice, and I sacrificed being with Marcel because I love him enough to give my life and future for him when I don’t even know if he’s alive. That’s how much I love him." You scream at Adam as if your loud voice would finally get through him, but he doesn't even look in your direction. He leaves you to stare at your own reflection in his dark, shiny cheek. "Everyone deserves love, but you devoid yourself of it on your own. I accepted my fate! I really wanted to know you more, see from your perspective, and what did I get in return?! You treated me like a joke!"

"I don’t want this to just be bearable for you! I don’t want to see you because I can’t bear looking at someone who is just okay to be here!"

"What’s even the point of wearing that mask if you can’t even look me in the eyes while saying that I’m just a mistake you made?"

"I know that you hate me. It would be so unbelievably stupid of you if you didn't, and that’s why it’s easier if you direct all of your hate towards this," he points to his masked face. "Than the real thing."

You two stand so close to one another — too close — but neither of you moves away for a while. Adam can hear your breathing, but that's it. 

And that's when one of you makes a move — you walk around him. Adam tries to grab you again, but you yank your arm away.

"At least hate me like you did before. I need you to feel some type of way, anything but indifferent… please. Scream and shout, but don’t stay silent."

He hates the silence.

You stop, but don't turn around to face him.

"All I can do is pity you. You are your worst enemy, Adam."

Back in the bedroom, you tear the dress off your body and fall onto the bed. You curl in on yourself and burry your face into the fluffy sheets, soaking them in your fury-fuelled tears while screaming all of the frustration away. Your head is a mess, and your heart is too.

Helpless — you feel so helpless.

[moonlightdreamzz]

kill bill

part one part two

you return back to korea one year after you and hyunjin broke up, only to find out he has replaced you. how could he replace you?

→ g: all of it. the pain, the sexy, the happiness. angstsmutfluff! <3

🎧 ➤ kill bill by sza

warning! you’re a heartbroken bitter ex girlfriend here, although for a valid reason. party environment! mentions of (w**d) and alcohol, language, and infidelity!

Everyone who is partying seems to be having a great time thanks to the Migos music that is playing. Together with the sound of feet leaping up and down, you can also hear recognizable voices trying to shout over the music. Everyone is singing together, but you can't help but scrunch up your face

You're stopped on the toilet, your heart racing as you rest your face in your palms, emulating Hyunjin's pose before interfering with his moment. You're not sure who will break the hush. You want to snort because this is all too familiar. This petty quiet game had devoured your relationship in the latter days of your and Hyunjin's relationship—you not speaking out owing to your misunderstanding over when the two of you became this pair, and Hyunjin always preferring the silent treatment over voicing what was troubling him.

Hyunjin takes a big breath before swiftly exhaling. He stands up and hands you the toilet paper from the top of their marble-topped sink. "Take it," he says quietly, and you quickly comply, wiping your sensitive parts freely as he faces the door.

All you can see is his muscular back, which appears to have become leaner from what you can see, and his blonde hair, which he opted to be down today. He was usually complaining about the headaches he had from wearing his hair up for an extended period of time.

Right now, you don't feel like yourself, but perhaps that's for the best. You quickly flush the toilet and then proceed to the sink to wash your hands. There wasn't much room to maneuver in this bathroom because it isn't particularly big. You are compelled to rest your left hip on Hyunjin's thin waist since he is still standing still.

You have no idea why he hasn't exited the restroom. A number of delusions were racing through your disordered mind, your major idea being that he must still be as madly in love with you as you are with him, and that this would be the scene in the film where you both declare how much you need each other. You can almost taste it: the two of you weeping your eyes out while making love in this restroom. It wouldn't be the first time this happened.

You pause for a split second after wiping your hands on the beautiful towel before speaking.

"Are you sure you're not going to talk to me? I had no idea you were so afraid to approach people.” Although it is a falsehood, you are aware that doing the right thing will not result in the solutions you need.

This time, you weren't very adept at guessing what was going through Hyunjin's mind. His body language is the only glance you get, and it doesn't reveal much. You start to look for his typical signs of annoyance, such as disordered breathing, shaking heads, and fidgeting with the hem of his jeans to pass the time, but none of those things are happening. He is simply standing.

He whispers, "Shut up," and doesn't turn around. It's strange since his tone is the furthest thing from sharp, despite the fact that his words are. It may best be described as defeated. but not in the manner you desire. Not in a manner that would force him to leave the party holding your hand, disregarding what anyone else has to say. no…Guilt is the cause. It's unfortunate. It's embarrassing. You're at a loss for words.

“What?”

He continues, "Shut up."

“I'll stop talking when you look at me.” He ignores your threat and stands still. "Wow, you guys are all big and bad now, huh? Wow, Hyunjin. Have you got that feeling from your new bitch? Huh!” You start to speak louder.

You don't typically lose your cool in this way, but you can't help it. The level of scorn you are currently experiencing can only be fully understood by those whose hearts have been utterly broken. The man who once pledged to sacrifice his life for you will not even meet your eyes. Devastation has now replaced the blood that was previously rushing through your veins, and when devastation is the only thing keeping your heart beating, you completely lose control. You care not who hears. You pray that she is listening in on the conflict that you know is about to blow out inside these four walls from behind the door.

you usually never lose your temper like this, but you can’t control yourself. only the people who have gotten their hearts completely shattered can understand how scorned you feel right now. the man who used to say he would die for you won’t even look you in the eye. the blood running through your veins has now become devastation, and when devastation is the only thing keeping your heart pumping, you fucking lose control. you don’t care who hears. you hope she’s behind the door eavesdropping on the argument you know is about to explode behind these four walls.

“Answer me!" You yell. The music is loud, and the guests are still singing, but you can tell that folks nearby are starting to wonder who is in here. "What is it about her? Is she more beautiful than I am? Smarter? Lighter? You don't get to do this to me and then ignore—

Hyunjin has seized you with his thin hands and pushed you against the door before you can finish your sentence. Even though it is unplanned, your body thumps into it loudly, ruining what you know is supposed to be a covert reunion.

His eyes are moist and crimson, eyes you haven't been able to lose yourself in for a year. He is sobbing silently while his eyes are streaming with tears as they look directly into your soul. His eyes should have softened like they did when you first entered this room, but they don't.

Despite the fact that you two have always maintained that such things do not exist, perhaps he truly is your twin flame. Suddenly, the anguish, disappointment, and rage overwhelm you, making it difficult for you to breathe and causing your tears to fall exactly like his. But you can't just let them fall silently. You can't stop crying, even when Hyunjin's arms slink around your waist. Your sobbing is loud and unrestrained.

You are despised. "I hate you." You sob. How much you adore him, you detest. You hate that he broke your heart, and when you saw him on the floor, instead of going the restroom and running away, you couldn't keep it together and ended up in his arms as you always do.

Hyunjin is not feeling well. Seeing you sob like this makes him sick to his stomach. He can only blame himself. He wishes to tell you that he despises himself, but that would be too simple. He thought he'd finally found more than two words to say to you, but it's as if your anguish is flowing from you to him skin to skin.

But he has to hold it together.

“You hate me, huh?” He chuckles through he tears. “You know, Y/N? I hate you too.” He lies. You always act like you’re the only one hurt. Like you’re the only one who felt shit during this!”

“Because that’s what it feels like you asshole! Do you hear yourself right now? You broke up with me! You said all of these sweet loads of bullshit to me! You are the one who tried to make me feel like maybe we could be together again, just for you to move on! The one thing you swore you could never do! How do you think that’s made me feel!”

“Everybody says that during a breakup!” He finally screams back.

Never once had he ever yelled at you. All of this seemed like a terrifying nightmare. Was the whole thing a lie? Months prior, you had been asking yourself that question, but you dismissed it as a fiction of your insecure mind. Why did his tears match yours if he actually despised you and if all of his promises had been empty gestures?

He can tell you're having trouble breathing right now because of how violently you're hiccupping from weeping. Seeing you acting so sensitively on his behalf is such an unusual sight. You were great at demonstrating your compassion for others, but it never happened in situations like this. Even after the breakup, the way you handled it gave the impression that you didn't give a damn if he didn't know you inside and out.

Your remarks and the way you viewed him as your sensitive spot—what he was to you—were what made them profound. You currently have the same expression in your eyes, but it's mingled with terrible perplexity and grief. He made two promises to himself that he would never carry out. Didn't you go through enough already? However, there he was.

Tell her the truth.

“Baby…” he finally mutters. Your wet eyes immediately soften at the sound of your favorite name to be called by him. His gentle hand caresses your soft, brown skin. “Let me expla—

Knock knock knock!

“Hyunjin.” From behind the door, a small voice can be heard. Hyunjin and you both recognize the voice as coming from her, however neither of you can explain how you were able to hear her. You don't need to know how she appears because you don't know. She was the kind of woman that all the men in this place coveted.

You chuckle, a sole tear running down your eye.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

Hyunjin seems to have frozen over once more. He is now wondering if this is how God intended it since he keeps getting cut off when he starts to explain why he left you, the love of his life.

All of the late nights where he was having anxiety attacks only you could soothe and went to call you, his service would go out, or he would be summoned to a late night practice.

Everytime he was in the midst of writing you a letter, Bang Chan would come in, demanding him to “let it go” as it was “for the betterment of the group”

Leah, who was madly in love with him and on the other side of the door was shameful. The fact that it was brutally evident that his heart was somewhere else, yet she ignored it, was the final straw. She is literally a hired girlfriend from the company. She is aware. Bangchan is aware. Everyone is aware. You are the owner of Hyunjin. Every part of him. You were the only thing left in his heart. Without you in his life to fuel him up and pick up on all of the subtle intricacies he put into his actions, even dancing no longer brought him much joy.

Hyunjin was tired of running. But he was willing to do it one more time.

“Do you trust me?” He questions. He knows what you’re answer will be.

You have no idea what is going on right now. Hyunjin moved from being apologetic to declaring his hatred for you, to pretending he had a reason for his conduct, to now this. What exactly is going on? What was he going to say?

He doesn't have time to wait for a response from you. He is aware that your mind is concocting bizarre interpretations about his acts. He would lose all confidence if another 30 seconds passed.

“This is all fake.”

It’s as if the weight of the world dropped off of his body.

“What?” You utter.

“Her, our break up, I never wanted any of it.” He didn’t know his honesty would cause him to feel so weak inside.

You can feel the way his body is shaking. You know it’s only a mere couple of seconds before he collapses on the ground. Your hands are now cupping his face into your hands, holding him afloat just as you always did. In this moment, nothing makes sense except for the fact that you two were finally on the same page again after months of being lost without eachother.

You've noticed that the music has started to shout into Hyunjin's ear. This is what happened when he became overwhelmed by his surroundings. He's trying to concentrate by blocking his ears.

“We need to run.” He utters. “Take my hand. I love you, Y/N. I know none of this makes sense but if we can just get out of here I’ll explain everything. You just have to trust me. And I know that’s a hard thing to ask—

You ultimately decide to stop questioning him and start doing as he says since you can tell he's becoming anxious. Leah is in agonizing astonishment when she finds you and Hyunjin holding hands next to each other as Hyunjin suddenly regains control of his body and swings open the door.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin.” She squeals.

“Don’t what the fuck him.” You speak firmly

“What she said.” Is all Hyunjin mutters before squeezing your hand tightly and pulling you through the drunken dazed crowd, pushing her out of the way in the process.

The way everything is unfolding makes you feel as though you are watching a movie. Hyunjin is passionate as he shoves people aside to rush to the entrance, and you're moving so quickly that you can't even stop to look at their expressions.

The music is still blaring, and a song from earlier begins to play, causing you to practically black out.

I'm still a fan even though I was salty

Hate to see you with some other broad, know you happy

Hate to see you happy if I'm not the one driving

Finally, you and Hyunjin exit through the door to the empty outside. The music, which once more seems to be absent, gives the impression that nobody else is present. You eventually lock eyes with one other for the first time without any pain involved, like if there is no one else on the globe save the two of you.

Hyunjin is helpless to stop. As soon as he pulls you up, you instantly wrap your legs around his waist, allowing him to kiss you on the lips. The emotions that are coursing through his body are so intense that he feels as though his entire body wants to give way. At the same time, he feels joy, hurt, and remorse. He has no idea how he survived without your love for even a day.

You don't either, and it doesn't really matter right now. The fact that you are back in his arms is all that matters. Later, you'll have to kick yourself for not being more critical of him.

“I’m sorry. I’ll explain it all. I swear.” He says in between kisses.

You and Hyunjin make out as heavier thunder rumbles through the area. He again grabs your hand and pulls you to the parking lot as you both giggle together. Both of you don't seem to mind that your boots and his sneakers are drenched in water from the puddles as you run together.

He starts the car from a distance, opens the door for you like the gentleman you knew him to be, then clambers onto the driver's side and quickly accelerates away. He pulls quickly, giving the rest of the perplexed group a swerving decipher from as he can't help but touch you with his lips and an empty hand.

Hyunjin switches on the radio as the two of you drive down the freeway, and you quickly realize that it is the same station that was playing during the party. The two of you are still traveling to your favorite park in the midst of the storm, singing along to SZA's sly but true words as Hyunjin's lips are pressed against your own.

I did it all for love (love)

I did it all of this on no drugs (drugs)

I did all of this sober

Don't you know I did it all for us?

Who would’ve known this would be Hyunjin’s line to sing by the end of the night.

authors note: I know I took forever to get this out. i don’t even know if this is still wanted. if you guys want the full truth in another part, let me know!

© 2023 moonlightdreamzz. no one has permission to steal my work in any way, shape, or form.

taglist

@https-skzology

@multeciahucho

@hyujinnie1

@xh-josii

@itszerotwoo

[patibato]

[Bitter Sweet Sixteen] 002-A05 - Healthy Party

*continuous typing*

Momiji: …

Yukikaze: … Momiji…

Momiji: ……

Yukikaze: You're frighteningly concentrated, so I was holding my tongue while watching you, but - I can't take it anymore.

Please answer me. What happened?

Just what work do you need to complete so badly that you're making such a demonic expression…!

Kafka: Sigh. You don't need to be so weirdly worried.

They said they'd quickly finish a "thorough and easy to understand proposal with no room for wisecracks", then quickly return to the school to get revenge on those cute kids.

Yukikaze: …I see, so that's it.

Kafka: This Chief-chan is great. They're full of energy, or forcefulness, perhaps. I like it♪

Yukikaze: Right, I agree. At times like this, Chief's vigour is like mapo tofu with Sichuan pepper.

Kafka: You never change, can't you do something about those idiotic comparisons?

Momiji: ……

Yukikaze: …

Kafka: …

*door opens*

Ten: Wow~ …such pleasant expressions. Don't you feel like two parents watching their kid play with building blocks?

*door opens*

Renga: Hey… …ah, T-Ten. Didn't know you'd be coming to the office!

Ten: Renga-san, hey.

Renga: Um, if you want, when we leave today, how about we… visit a bar together? I'm in your debt from when we went to your sushi restaurant before, so…!

Ten: Oh. Are you gonna treat me, Renga-san? Sure thing~

Liguang: …I could hear some kind of hitting sound coming from outside the door, is it your doing, Momiji?

Momiji: ……

Liguang: …You're not listening at all.

*typing stops*

Momiji: President. What is the judgement criteria for the Tourism Ward Mayor candidates.

Kafka: Leave it to me.

Momiji: Understood.

*typing starts again*

Momiji: ……

Renga: Hey, what on earth is Chief doing?

Kafka: Seems like Chief-chan got kinda messed up because of some Asu-High students, so they're in work demon mode.

Renga: Asu-High? …Right, that takes me back.

Liguang: For Tourism Ward Mayors, they said? …Dealing with brats is troublesome.

*typing stops*

Momiji: It's done…! Now to dash back to the school-

Sakujiro: The school gates have already been closed.

Momiji: Huh…

*crows cawing*

Sakujiro: As it's the day before Summer break, it seems the gates were closed earlier than usual.

Momiji: N-no way… Even though I decided I'd definitely redeem myself…!

Sakujiro: No. I believe it's still too soon to draw a conclusion. This very day, for the purpose of going all out with celebration before Summer break-

The Student Council President, Kuraku Yumenosuke, is hosting a large scale house party that all ten thousand students are invited to.

Momiji: What!

Sakujiro: Don't you suppose the students in question will be attending too? Perhaps it would be worth taking a look.

Momiji: That's right! Absolutely!

Sakujiro: Then please, put this on posthaste.

Momiji: What are these clothes?

Sakujiro: There seems to be a dress code for participation. This time, the theme is "clothes that look like they're from a young adult movie"-

For this day, Saku-me* has poured his heart into sewing this stitch by stitch.

Ten: Huh, it's hand made? Cool.

Momiji: Thank you so much!

Kafka: Get changed in five minutes. I'll call a car right now. …Be careful, and take care.

Yukikaze: Go without regrets. I'll be waiting with your favourite dinner.

Renga: I don't really get what's happening, but… don't overdo it!

Momiji: Thanks, everyone! I'll be off!

Momiji: Amazing… this isn't the level I'd expect from a student's house party.

There's a night pool, a DJ booth, even a counter bar. Though, obviously they're not serving alcohol…

Look, there's so many people in black suits. The security's flawless.

Sakujiro: The Kuraku family are elites of the political world, after all.

The large garden parties frequently held here are famous in various circles.

Momiji: Right, I've got it. So if it's a place like this, those five will definitely be here.

-For now, I'll try asking around.

Sakujiro: Certainly. I'll be back later, then.

---

Student A: Huh… Isotake? You mean that dangerous guy who's rumoured to be complicit in murder?

Student B: There's no reason to call those guys here. Who knows what'd happen if we did.

---

Student C: Kurama? He's got bad vibes, no one goes near him…

Student D: By Kaguya, do you mean the helmet-wearing Student Council Vice President? I hear he's so beautiful he has a fanclub, but I always thought he was a dangerous guy.

---

Student E: That guy called Kinugawa, I didn't know about him. Nanamegi, though, he's handsome and well-known, so I'd heard of him.

Student F: No one wants to approach Nanaki-kun after that happened. It's really a waste, he was so popular. If you're hanging out with those guys, probably best you stop.

---

Momiji: (Those kids don't have a very good reputation, huh…)

(That "incident" certainly left a lasting impression. If I'd just looked into it properly…)

??: Excuse me! You over there!

Momiji: Y-yes!

??: You're the one searching for those five heinous criminals, correct?

Momiji: He-heinous criminals?

Yumenosuke: Nice to meet you. I'm the Student Council President of Hama Asunaro High School, Kuraku Yumenosuke. Thank you for being here today.

Momiji: Ah, right… sorry to bother you.

Yumenosuke: As our school posseses a student body of ten thousand, I believe strong friendships between students are essential-

Today's party is for assistance in social mingling, however! At the same time, it functions as a place to cultivate a sound mind in the students, and what's more! For the peace of mind of their guardians, each and every area-

Is guarded by our notoriously strong staff, who have helped protect and nurture the Kuraku family since my great-grandfather's time.

In regards to you, who is searching for those heinous criminals, by all means, I would be tremendously grateful if you could quietly watch over the healthy growth of our youth!

Momiji: (I didn't ask, and yet he exposited so many things…!)

(Now that he mentions it, those strong-looking black suited guys are staring at me. I suppose it's natural that I'd be considered a suspicious person…)

Sorry for the late introduction. This is who I am.

Yumenosuke: A business card…! Thank you for your consideration. Hmhm… the Regional Revitalisation Club's…

I see, so you were an advisor!

Momiji: Yes. My reason for being at this party is linked to my work.

Yumenosuke: …I see, so that's the situation, I understand! It was of my own arbitrary discretion that I doubted your position, sincerest apologies for that!

Black-Suited Staff: Sincerest apologies!

Momiji: No, as long as you understand now then…

Yumenosuke: I'm thankful for you being lenient with me. However… before you return to your search, would you mind putting up with my nonsense for just a little longer?

Momiji: Uh, alright…

Yumenosuke: I had a Student Council Vice President who I put my trust in. I used to believe that whatever life had in store for me, our mutual trust would never be shaken, but-

He completely betrayed my expectations! On that night, one month ago!

The old school building… a building of cultural heritage symbolising its era, where my father - now a cabinet member - studied… was blown up, unbelievable as it is!

Colluding with four hooligans whose corrupted souls are of the same level as his own!

Momiji: (B-blown up…!? I see, that's the "certain incident"…)

Yumenosuke: Among them were people admired by the other students - but now, they are all Rank One.

Student A: Rank One means they're the lowest rank, y'know.

Momiji: (There's that "Rank" talk again…)

Yumenosuke: You over there, do quiet down. Discrimination based on Ranks could invite criticism towards our school's education system.

…Nay, this too is a result of the hard work he neglected. It can't be helped that he's being slandered for his act of betrayal.

Momiji: Um, excuse me. Just what exactly do you mean by "Rank"?

Yumenosuke: Oh my, could it be that you weren't acquainted with them!

Momiji: Sorry, I've not done much research…

Yumenosuke: I shall explain it in simple terms. The ranking system is a tradition of our school.

To start, the ranks are split into five levels. Those who are studious, active in clubs, and diligent in particular are Rank Five-

Conversely, those who slack off are Rank One, giving each student an incentive to make an effort.

Those who strive the most… the Rank Fives are given appropriately favourable treatment. From the cafeteria menu to special privileges in club activities, the right to make suggestions, and above all, being the envy of all the other students. Just like myself.

And as Rank Ones are the exact opposite… I'm sure you understand without me saying any more.

Momiji: (They're treated coldly… I see.)

Yumenosuke: After hearing all that, I'm sure you understand now! Even so, do you still intend on searching for them?

Momiji: Yes, I do.

Yumenosuke: … I understand. It's important to confirm these things with your own eyes. Well then- take a glass, external advisor-san.

Everyone! In celebration of our first semester passing by safely, let's once again toast with our champagne-style carbonated drinks!

*students saying "cheers"*

Momiji: (If I was Rank One, and knew I'd be getting shunned like this-)

(I absolutely wouldn't come here. It's unpleasant.)

(Maybe it'd be best to start over and take a different approach…)

Student G: Ah! I spilled my champagne-style carbonated drink! Anyone got a tissue?

Student H: There's lots of pocket tissues over there.

Student G: I don't want to use those ones though… Feels like bad luck.

Momiji: (How on earth would a tissue feel like bad luck…)

(Hm?)

(There's an advert on the back…)

Advert: "The genius galactic movie director ISOTAKE presents a once in a lifetime screening of an ultra brand new movie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Momiji: ("Isotake" meaning, Akuta-kun!? The date for it is-)

Today…!

*Sakujiro is referring to himself in third person, with "me" being a humbling suffix.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

[kfkr1ze]

[002-A22] Go For It!

Summary — ✈︎ Kaede feels frustrated about the fact that he couldn’t be a good teacher to the rest of the students. However, after being encouraged by Sakujiro, he decides try to do what he can. 

Characters— ✈︎ Kiroku, Nanaki, Akuta, Ushio, Sakujiro

Location: Tomioka Hachiman Shrine in Shodoshima

Kiroku: …………

Nanaki: Yo, Kinugawa-kun.

I’m on my break right now, so I thought I’d come and check out everything.

Kiroku: Oh……

Nanaki: I heard that the lanterns weren’t really finished yet. So I was thinking “Wow, I wonder what’s going on with that?”

Kiroku: …… It’s already… being displayed.

Nanaki: Ah, that one displayed over there? …… Wow.

Kiroku: ………

Nanaki: ………

Kiroku: ( ……He isn’t saying anything… He’s just staring at it…)

(I knew it… Even Nanamegi thinks… what I make is……)

Nanaki: Y’know, this lantern…

Kiroku: G… G-Gannosuke-san … said…! That…!

(Even if the lantern is incomplete, just display it as……)

ーーit…… is…!

Nanaki: Gannosuke-san said that even if the lantern is incomplete, you should just display it as it is?

Kiroku: (H-He managed to understand……)

Nanaki: I see. I agree with Gannosuke-san too. Though it’s a shame that it’s gonna get wet in the rainーー

I think it looks really cool. It looks really unique… Like, it’s one of a kind. I think it should get displayed. Actually, it’s like that thing right? You took inspiration from the design of the egg?

Kiroku: ………Eh……?

Nanaki: It’s like, a bit creepy but cute too. I like it.

Kiroku: ……!

Nanaki: Well, my break’s almost up so I’ll head back now. I’ll see you later.

Kiroku: (I got praise…d…… I got praised……)

(Wait, no, Nanamegi is different from Isotake… He’s the sociable type. He definitely was just pretending to praise me… I’m… sure of it)

( …In the first place, it’s unfinished.)

……It doesn’t matter which one is true… It doesn't hurt that much so…

Elderly Man A: Oh wow, this is not going to be good. The rain… It’s starting to drizzle here and there.

Elderly Man B: Really? … Well, I suppose it’s like the forecast said. There’s really nothing to be done. We don’t have any of those fancy weather control things out here after all.

Elderly Man A: They should’ve just announced that the event was canceled earlier… Well, I’ll start preparing right now, just in case.

Nanaki: ………

…… Hey, Andy.[1]

Andy: “Good afternoon, Nanaki. How can I help you today?”

Nanaki: It’s raining, right? Today.

Andy: “That is very troublesome. Have you prepared an umbrella?”

Nanaki: I don’t need an umbrella, so you don’t have to order one or anything. 

… I just need some advice. Just a little is fine.

Andy: “I will answer to the best of my abilities.”

Nanaki: I wanted everyone to hear the new song I made but… It’s raining.

Why do things always end up so… bitter?

Andy: “It sounds like it is due to feelings of love. The bitter feelings you’re talking about are a result of that.”

Nanaki: Nonononono! What are you saying all of a sudden? I’m not in love at all! … I’m not, right?

Andy: “Yes. You are in love.”

Nanaki: Nonono… Huh? That’s wrong right?

Andy: “It’s love.”

Nanaki: N-Noーー

Akuta: “Hey hey heeey! Incoming from the Command Center! Cadet Nanamegi, please respond immediately～！”

Nanaki: You’re so energetic, even though it’s raining. Did something happen?

Akuta: “I have a request I need to ask! I think it’s around the time that they’re going to announce that the event is getting canceledーー”

“Sooo I wanna hijack the announcements! I want my voice to get announced instead? Do you think you can do that?”

Nanaki: Hah!? What are you saying…

Andy: “That is a very bad idea, Akuta-san.”

Nanaki: Andy, shut up please.

ーー But, clearly the answer is no? I’m in charge of the sound so I could do it, but no. Rejected.

Akuta: “Why not!? Just do it! Don’t you wanna be popular!? If the summer festival is successful, we’ll all be famous y’know!”

Nanaki: ………

Akuta: “I wanna be super popular and play tag on the moon! With all the Bunny-chans and Bunny-kuns with mochi and stuff!”

Nanaki: ………

Akuta: “Hey, are you giving up already?”

Nanaki: !

Akuta: “If you keep giving up like that, your summer is gonna stay boring y’know. Not just that, that kinda attitude will make your whole life bland.”

“Okay listen up. There was this boxer[2] who drank a lotta eggs before a match, and he said this.”

“It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!”

Nanaki: Gh…… But, if something is impossible, it’s just impossible…!

The rain won’t magically stop just because I’m determined…!

Akuta: “You’re so fucking stubborn! You’re an idiot! Stupid goat!”

Nanaki: …He cut the call.

Andy: “The correct term would be ‘arrogant’ instead of ‘stubborn’.”

Nanaki: … Goodbye, Andy.

… Sighs …

………

(ーーIsn’t that a childish idea? Trying to hijack the announcements and change something.)

(It’s not realistic at all, and it might cause trouble for Chief and the rest of the staff. Of course, no one wants to cancel an event because of rain but… Even the sound of the rain hitting the tent is getting louder.)

(Yeah. It’s fine to just let things play out as they were. It’s like Kurama-kun said. There’s no use in trying our best to change things. It’d be a waste of time.)

………

I know that. I know that, but…

(Just standing around like this… It’s making me feel like something is dying…)

ーー Ugh!! Fuck!!

Akuta, you stupid son of a…!

Elderly Woman A: No, but… it’s the same for us. We prepared for this because these things were promised to be prepared for us too…

Ushio: Yes, I hate to repeat myself, but I apologize for that.

(Ugh～ This is so tedious… It’s so annoying having to repeat myself over and over.)

Elderly Woman B: It was your idea in the first place was it not? To serve baby castella.

Elderly Woman C: You advertised that it wasn’t going to be an ordinary baby castella, but a special one that is covered in a special syrup…

Ushio: I do truly apologize for that.

But I don’t believe there is any need to be so particular about it though. Just the sponge cake is delicious on its own.

(The rain is probably gonna cause the shop to close down soon anyways, so.)

Elderly Woman B: Hey you! You need to start taking responsibility for the things that you say! You’re dragging everyone around you into it too!

Ushio: That’s why I’ve been apologizing this whole time. What more can I do? We’re just high school studentsーー

Sakujiro: Please excuse me.

Elderly Woman C: Are you his chaperone?! Just what kind of education are you giving him!?

Sakujiro: I was not able to hear the entirety of the conversation just now, but it seems that he was being rude to you all, so I sincerely apologize for that.

Elderly Woman A: We came all the way over here despite having very busy schedules.

Sakujiro: It is exactly as you say. From our perspective, having just arrived from outside of this area, we can see how much effort the entire community is placing into this festival.

He himself has been working very hard to prepare for this festival in his own way, but now, looking at this rainy weather… He is at an age where he is not immune to this kind of disappointment yet…

That is why, to you wonderful ladies with hearts as deep as those hailing from the sea, could I ask you all to be a bit empathetic to his situation?

Elderly Woman C: … Well, I can see how disappointing it would be to come this far only for it to rain…

Elderly Woman A: I’ve heard that city kids like him don’t have to experience this kind of stuff since they have weather control devices…

Ushio: ( …Hm.)

Sakujiro: Ah, please excuse me, my phone is ringing…

(It seems to be Chief. Now, I wonder how things are playing out…)

Announcer: “This is an announcement from the Organization Committee. Today’s Summer Festival in Shodoshima will be canceled due to the rain…”

Ushio: See? It ended up being canceled, soーー

Akuta: “Nanaki, is it okay if I just talk like normal? Ah, it’s okay? OK, OK! Ah, ah, mic test!”

“Okay, so, today’s event cancellationーー is CANCELEEEEED!”

Ushio: ……Hah?

Gannosuke: J-Just what on earth… is going on!? Was that Akuta-kun’s voice just now…!?

Kiroku: …… Is it not… getting… canceled?

Ushio: Liーー

Like hell if I know!?

Sakujiro: ………

Location: Beach in Shodoshima

Kaede: Hello? Sakujiro-san? It’s me!

I managed to get the weather control device from KOBE!

Koharu: Sakujiro-san, long time no see!

… So with this, ya can tell Kafka that I repaid back my debt〜!

Kaede: Yes, Koharu-san is here with me right now! He’s showing me how to set up the device…!

Elderly Man D: Well, I’m grateful you tried to borrow such an impressive thing, but there’s no point in using it now.

Elderly Man E: Right? It’s such a shame too. Each shot is really expensive, isn’t it?

Koharu: Don’t worry ‘bout it. ‘Cuz Iーー KOBE is sayin’ it’s all fine so ya can go ahead ‘n launch it.

Kaede: (They’re right… Even though he’s saying that it’s just repaying a debt, the equipment is so expensive… It’s not worth it for KOBE to help us out, but he just lent it to me with no questions askedーー)

Koharu-san, really, thank you so much…!

Then, I’m gonna head to the venue now… Well, I was going to but, Sakujiro-san, you’ve been silent for a while now. Can you hear me?

Akuta: “You thought it was gonna be canceled huh〜 I also thought I’d be getting a bunch of delicious food to myself y’know.”

Kaede: (Huh? Is that Akuta-kun’s voice on the other side of the phone…? Sakujiro-san went silent as well… What’s going on?)

Location: Tomioka Hachiman Shrine in Shodoshima

Akuta: “Alright everyone, are you ready〜?”

“10 seconds left until launch off～!”

Previous — ✈︎ Masterlist — ✈︎ Next

Notes — ✈︎

Andy is kinda like Siri basically? But a bit more advanced since yk . this is 2055. Nanaki basically talks to Andy a lot. I was gonna type it as Andi to make it look a bit more like Siri but everyone I’ve seen around is using Andy? So I’m keeping it the same for consistency.

He’s talking about Rocky Balboa from the movie Rocky. I copied the quote Akuta says from google LMFAO

[bigoltrashpile]

All Mine (Yandere Slim x Reader)

The lovely @tkspersonaldump commissioned me for a yandere Slim x reader! It does get spicy near the end, so I'll put a read more right before that. Thank you for commissioning! :D

Slim sighed.  You were over at the skeletons’ house, once again.  It seemed like you were here more often than your own house.  Which Slim was happy about!  He loved you, of course!  But…it made him jealous.  Really jealous.

Right now, Butch was leaning against you, gently petting your hair.  Slim was pretty sure he could see him whispering something in your ear, but he couldn’t hear it from here.  At the same time, Papyrus had your hand in his, occasionally pressing kisses to the back of it.  The rest of the skeletons were trying hard to be as close to you as they could, all while you watched some tv show.  Everyone except Slim.

Trying to contain his jealousy, Slim looked away.  As if that would stop him from hearing your gorgeous laugh.  Subconsciously, he let out a small growl.  He knew about how the others felt for you, of course he did.  All of them loved you, more than anything else.  But Slim knew.  He knew that you would never love him back.  Not when you had all these other much cooler, sexier, more charming versions of him and his brother.

Trying to stop the dark thoughts, Slim left the room.  He didn’t want to ruin your good evening.  He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice your soft footsteps following him.

Slim shut his door, before flopping face down on his bed with a loud groan.  Sadly, his pity party was interrupted by a gentle knock.

Immediately, Slim sat up.  Nobody else knocked like that.  It was either a loud, constant pounding, or a shave and a haircut pattern.  No in between.  Was it…you?

Cautiously, Slim opened the door.  His eyes went wide.  It was!  You were here!  Right outside his room!  “Can I come in?” you asked.  Your beautiful eyes didn’t meet Slim’s.  What he wouldn’t give to be able to gaze into your eyes for hours and hours and oh fuck he was quiet for way too long.

“yeah, yeah, come on in, uh, do you want a drink?  wait i don’t have any drinks in here, do you want me to go get you a drink?”  Very smooth, Slim.

“No, I just wanted to talk to you, actually.”  You pushed some hair behind your ear.  “Can we sit down?”

“uh huh, have a seat.”  Gingerly, you sat on the edge of his bed.  Slim had to fight to not squeal in excitement.  Fuck, you smelled so good!  And now you were on his bed!  He sat next to you, close, but with a bit of room in case you were uncomfortable.  All his previous bitterness was completely gone, just from the novelty of having your complete attention.

You fidgeted nervously.  “I wanted to…to tell you something.”  You took a deep, shaky breath.  “So…we’ve been friends for a while.”

Slim nodded.  Oh stars, this was sounding an awful lot like a breakup.  Slim fought to keep away his dark thoughts.  What if you were trying to leave him?  He couldn’t let that happen.  His eyes drifted to the closet, where he had a few ropes, bought just in case his jealousy got the better of him and he needed you to stay with him forever.

Oh wait you were still talking.

“I know the others like me,” you said, a slight blush on your face.  “It’s kind of hard to ignore.  And I like them too!”  There was that jealousy again.  “But…”  You took a deep, shaky breath.  “I like you the most.”

“....what?”

“I like you.  A lot.  Like, a lot a lot,” you said with a laugh.  “I might love you?”

Oh stars.  Was Slim dreaming?  He had to be dreaming.  He dug his fingers into his ulna.  Yep, that hurt.  He wasn’t dreaming.

“holy shit,” Slim whispered.

“-I understand if you don’t feel the same, I just wanted to have all cards on the ta-”

“i love you too.”

You blinked.  “You do?”

“fuck, honey, i love ya so much!  more than anything!  i just thought there was no way you’d fall for me when ya have all these choices,” he laughed, almost giddy.

“Really?”  You laughed too.  “Wow!  That’s such a relief!”  You put a hand on your chest, as if calming your heart.

For a moment, the two of you just smiled at each other, like big dorks.  Finally, Slim broke the silence.  “sorry to ask, but…can i kiss ya?”

You jumped, like you weren’t expecting it.  “Y-yeah!”  You shifted so you were facing him more directly.  Carefully, like you were made of glass, Slim put a hand on your cheek.  It was warm.

Slowly, Slim leaned closer.  His eyes were focused firmly on your lips, the lips he had dreamed of kissing every night since he had met you.  With a shaky breath, he closed the distance.

It was even better than he had dreamed.  Your lips were soft, softer than he thought was possible.  He gently moved his teeth against your lips, and you instinctively tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, Slim felt something touch his teeth.  He jumped.  It was your tongue!  You pulled away, seemingly afraid you had messed up.  “I-I’m so sorry, I just thought-”

Before you could say anything, Slim slammed his teeth against your lips again.  This time, he was more than ready.  His tongue invaded your mouth, like you would disappear if he stopped for even a second.  His hand cupped the back of your head, tangled in your hair.

The two of you kissed for a long while, until your hands finally found Slim’s shirt.  Without breaking the kiss, Slim helped your cute little fingers undo the butons, before eagerly stripping you of your top.

Slim pulled back just long enough to take in the sight.  “fuck,” he whispered.  “you’re gorgeous!”

You seemed embarrassed.  “You’re more gorgeous!” you pouted.  Slim just laughed.  The two of you fell onto the bed, Slim landing on top of you.

“do ya wanna go further?” he asked.  Fuck, he wanted to go further.  It was all he wanted, to mark you inside and out, so all the others knew exactly who you belonged to.

“Please,” you whimpered.

Unable to hold himself back, Slim tore your pants into shreds.  You yelped.  “i’ll buy you new ones,” Slim panted.  “i just…i need ya.”

His words, along with the display of strength, seemed to really get to you.  Despite the fact that your thighs were squeezed tight together, Slim could smell your arousal.  Fuck, he hoped your scent stayed in his bed forever.  “O-okay.  But I really liked those pants.”

Slim laughed, before gently pulling your legs apart.  His mouth watered at your scent, and at the sight of your wet folds, on display for him.  And only him.  He looked you in the eyes as he let his long, orange tongue loll out of his mouth.

You swallowed hard.  Almost instinctively, you tried to squeeze your legs together again, but Slim was much too strong to let you.  “no ya don’t,” he growled.  “only squeeze those pretty thighs around my head.”

A soft moan escaped from your mouth, but you let him pull your thighs over his shoulders.  Then, without further ado, he let his tongue get to work.

Slim tried to go slow, to savor this moment he had yearned for, but he couldn’t help himself.  You tasted too damn good!  Plus, you had said you loved him.  He would be able to have you whenever he wanted~

True to his word, your thighs squeezed his skull beautifully when he hit an especially good spot inside of you.  You tried to muffle your moan, but Slim nipped the inside of your thigh in warning.

“don’t ya dare hide your sounds,” he growled.  “i’ve waited too damn long to hear ya.”

You let your hands fall to your side, and when Slim found that spot again, your moan was beautifully unfiltered.  Slim was sure that this was what heaven was.  His thumb found your clit, and you practically screamed as your orgasm washed through you.

---------------

Downstairs, the rest of the skeletons paused in their bickering.  They had been fighting over who deserved to cuddle you next, when they heard a gorgeous sound.  Your moaning.

“what the hell?” Hound muttered.  “is she jerkin’ off?”

Sans scanned the room.  “nah, slim’s gone too.”

A bitter silence filled the room, only interrupted by your beautiful noises, coming faintly from Slim’s room.

Lucky tried to fight back the proud expression from his face as a pleasured scream echoed through the halls.  “I Guess That Solves Our Little Argument,” he smiled.

[i-will-always-be-happy]

Ler Sanemi chasing and tickling Lee Giyuu?

YESSSS! EMO AND CHIHUAHUA BOY! I LOVE THEM!

Warning: This fanfic contains tickles. Also remind them that I don't speak English, so if they find any errors, let me know to correct it. I hope you like it!

Also, contains Sanegiyuu (Sanemi x Giyuu)

Ler: Sanemi Shinazugawa

Lee: Giyuu Tomioka

'I screwed it up!' 'Come here you moron!!', Sanemi yelled, hot on the heels of Giyuu, who was running around Sanemi's entire estate.

Let's put a little context, will you?

'I don't know what's up with Giyuu, he's been bitter. Today when he spoke, his voice sounded different, could you help me verify that everything is fine with him?', Sanemi looked at her confused, Shinobu asked him to take care of him?

'Why I should? He's an adult, let him take care of himself' 'I'm telling you as Oyakata-sama's request, I don't have much time right now, there are many injured patients and I have to take the medicine. Do it and I'll tell Aoi to make you whatever food you want'

Sanemi refused, but now he was waiting for Giyuu to arrive, he saw him. Shinobu was right, it seemed like he hadn't slept these days or months, he looked more unpleasant and dull than usual

'Good morning, Giyuu', he had no answer for a few seconds 'What do you want Shinazugawa? Be quick and brief, I want to get out of here', what? Giyuu?

'What's your fucking problem?!' 'That's how you always answer and I don't yell like that', oh wow... He really was in a bad mood

'Giyuu, are you feeling alright? You...', Sanemi tried to touch his shoulder, but Giyuu's look was different, it was as if he didn't want to be touched by even an insect. 'What do you want?'

Sanemi was confused, why was he acting like this right now? But... Something went through Sanemi's mind. A few words

'Ohhh is anyone angry? Come here!' 'Eahahahaha! Mahahama!', Sanemi felt bad for a moment, his memories, he felt, nostalgic

Sanemi tried to press Tomioka's hip, but Tomioka dodged and hit Sanemi's hand roughly.

'Don't touch me, Shinazugawa', Sanemi blushed slightly, it was a part of Giyuu that although he usually looked so serious, his tone of voice and new gaze surprised him.

Hey, but he hadn't slapped him?

'Did you slap me? Giyuu Tomioka', Giyuu wanted to keep his seriousness but when he turned to answer him, he saw Sanemi cracking his knuckles and laughing.

'Shit', Giyuu thought before running and being chased by Sanemi, which is what I was telling them when the story began.

'AGH!' 'GOTCHA!!', Sanemi played dirty, he really did, he pushed Giyuu hard, very cruel of him.

'Oh no, did you fall? What a problem! Calm down Tomioka! Now that I'm your friend, I'll worry about you, that's why... I'll see if you don't have a broken rib after this fall', well Giyuu, you asked for it

Sanemi and Giyuu fought, Giyuu holding Sanemi's wrists and trying as much as possible not to get

'Sa-Sanemi! No!' 'I won't do anything to you! Be a good friend and stay put!', well, Giyuu will probably win... Who am I kidding? Obviously not-

'DAHAHAHAMN!! SAHAHANEMIHIHI!!! STOHOHOP!!! I'M FIHIHINE!! QUIHIHIT IT!!' 'Mmmmm let's see, there doesn't seem to be a problem here, nor here, hey stop moving! You can get hurt!', Sanemi pressed between each space of his ribs, 'checking' that Giyuu wasn't hurt.

'STAHAHAP!! YOHOHOU DAHAHAHAMN DOHOHORK!!!' 'Oi, who are you calling an idiot, huh?', Sanemi positioned himself on Giyuu's upper ribs, digging right into that spot and smiling as Giyuu's laughter increased.

'What's up Tomioka? You should thank me for the fact that you're fine!' 'FAHAHAHAHACK!!! *gasp* SANEMI!!! *snort* *hipcup* ENOHOHOHUGH!!! *scream* WAHAHAHA!!!!', Sanemi smirked, but didn't stop

Giyuu kicked, begged, writhed, yelled, snorted, and squealed for mercy for almost 2 minutes, until finally Sanemi stopped and let him go.

'Well, now will you tell me why you were like this?', he received no answer. 'Tomioka?', nothing.

'Hey, I'm talking to you-!', Sanemi shook Tomioka, but still, he received no response.

'TOMIOKA?!', Sanemi got scared and the only thing he chose to do was give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, maybe he had gone too far?

He approached willingly, until Giyuu opened his eyes and kissed him.

'I worry you, don't I?', Sanemi blushed and pushed him away, crossing his arms as Giyuu laughed and stood up.

[opttagoyeo]

Psychic Au! Naruhina Ver.

brief context: Naruto Uzumaki is the CEO of a well-known company, a lot of people don't know.. even his present girlfriend, Sakura that he, has some sort of special talent.

Well you see, he has a special talent where he can read minds— or literally hear them in real life, without them knowing- without their consent.

Whereas, Hinata Hyuuga on the other hand, works under that same company, and has a suppressed feeling for her boss for almost 3 years now, without well, Him, knowing.

'Have I...

really stood a chance on him? '

Naruto stilled, his eyes darting around to find the one who's voice is this invading on his mind, who keeps boggling his already chaotic infused mind, and there she is—

Silently, like the air, cupping her favorite blend of coffee against the office's kitchen,

Naruto ponders who might be this person, who might be on Hinata's train of thoughts as of right now.

'Stood a chance on him huh?'

He never thought that there will be a time that he'll discover this quiet woman's interest in men, they've been working for years, and he really do admire her work, perseverance, determination, and hard work.

So to see her, the ever so serious yet gentle employee of his show some soft side of hers , a tell tale sign of her having affectionate feelings, it made him wonder.

It sparked a different interest, a sudden bubbling curiosity to know more for Naruto. To know more, to discover every nook and cranny with his all might.

To know everything there is to this one of a kind woman, Hinata Hyuga.

' I wonder, if I, if I was just as determined as I am right now back then, would I.. would I approach him, earlier, even before she came to his life?

Before everything shambled and crumbled and bask into this sunlight freely without any shame nor remorse to myself?'

Wow.

Just, wow.

He was definitely speechless to say the least, like, no really, he's being honest right now literally.

She sure have loved this certain guy for at least more than a year, Naruto estimated. Why? Well excuse his mind but the way she sound so disappointed and just so melancholy about the whole ordeal she's thinking of, makes him think that she's been keeping her love all to herself.

She's afraid of taking risk but that's also what's creeping up now to her memories, eating her up with a lot of what ifs, and regrets mixed with heavy disappointments.

In return, it left a bitter taste feeling for Naruto, and an aching heart, because he knew so damn well that feeling, of not being chosen— of not being enough.

Well sure, him and Hinata faces different situation and circumstances but in a sense they're also highly similar for they both have the feelings that correlates with one another.

And that's enough.

For Naruto, he's adamant that what he have seen is enough.

***

But he's wrong.

It's nowhere near enough.

If he could only turn back the time right at this moment, to go back to that specific time where she's just sipping her favorite coffee, he would, hell, if he have to move the sky and the mountain for it to happen then sure he will do it in no time without any complain.

To know it and to fully comprehend and analyze it are two different things.

In his defense, how could he possibly know?

Right?

Right?!

Who could've thought that all this time...

That...

Guy who he supposed was in Hinata's mind was none other than...

than...

Him.

Yes.

Him.

Oh.

Oh.

Truth to be told he didn't actually expected that, no one prepared him to do so because why would they?

And the very thought that swirling on his mind is...

Why him?

Out of all the people,

in the office...

in the city...

in the whole wide world.

Out of all 8 Billion People in the world?! Why chose him?

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette snuck up behind Luka, peeking around him to observe the hot pan on the stove. The smell of food throughout the kitchenette was incredibly pleasant, though she found herself more drawn to Luka's gentle smile than the food itself.

"Does it look good?" he suddenly asked.

"Huh?" She blinked, realizing that he was still staring at the pan. He hadn't caught her staring. "Oh! Yeah! You're—" She cleared her throat, blushing faintly, then added genuinely, "You're so good at this. Did your mom teach you?"

He chuckled, and she didn't miss how he turned just slightly to let her better view the food he was cooking.

"No," he replied, "Mom can cook a few simple things, but I always wanted Jule to eat well. She can be a little picky since she wants to be a model, so I had to learn how to make healthy food for her."

"She's lucky to have you," she commented, not realizing immediately what sort of effect she had on him until she saw his cheeks turn pink despite his poker face.

She couldn't blame the heat from the stove.

"I'm just doing what any brother should do," he deflected, "and I might as well feed my friends too while I'm at it, right?"

She sighed. "I'm so jealous! You cook so well." She watched the tasty food cooking away with a pout. "I'm usually too scared and the pan never seems hot enough."

He hummed in thought, then smiled at her. "You just have to listen."

"Listen?"

He held up a finger to wordlessly tell her to wait, then set up another pan at the stove to heat up. Going across the kitchenette to retrieve a spoon, he poured a tiny amount of water into it and returned to the stove, occasionally jostling the pan of food while he waited.

"Watch this," he instructed, holding the spoon over the hot empty pan.

Marinette gasped as the water was dropped onto the hot pan, Luka tilting his head to listen to the sizzling sound erupting from it.

"That's the perfect temperature for something like this. Sounds are important in cooking too."

"O-oh! Wow." She stared at the pan while the heat under it was being turned off, as though it would divulge secret cooking techniques to her. "So you're all about sounds even outside of instruments?"

"Mhm~" There was a smile in his voice. "And my heart follows wherever the melody takes me."

She looked up at him to continue the conversation, only to see that he'd already been looking at her. She blushed, catching the implication, and averted her gaze from him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear shyly. He looked at her like that all the time, and it always made her want to return the favor.

"Luka, um—" She hesitated. "Would you... no, it's silly."

"What is it?" He must've leaned towards her given how his voice sounded closer.

"Well, I was going to ask if you could teach me how to cook, but..." She trailed off, unsure.

"That's not silly at all. I'd be happy to���"

"No! It's totally silly and doesn't make any sense!" Marinette turned to him, fists clenched tight in front of her. "Because if you taught me how to cook just so I could cook for you then it'd be like eating your own cooking!"

Instead of responding to that, Luka blanked at her. She waited, thinking that she might've won an "argument" between them for once, yet it was clear he was off in his own little world when a bitter scent reached her nose.

She turned on alert, crying out, "L-Luka! The food is burning!"

He blinked, seeming to snap back to reality for a moment, only to then ignore what she'd said entirely to walk away. "I'll grab an apron for you."

"The food! The stove!" she protested, but he didn't seem to even hear her. At the very least, she could handle a stove despite her general lack of cooking knowledge, so she turned it off herself in her panic and moved the pan off the heat.

A few seconds later, Luka returned with a spare apron in hand and handed it to her as though nothing had happened.

"Y-you didn't have to do that." Even though she said that, she still took the apron from him in enabling fashion.

"But I'd love to teach you," he argued simply, shrugging at her.

"Weren't you listening?" She huffed, hands on her hips.

"I heard you perfectly." He grinned. "But it's not true."

"How?"

He held his hand out, giving her an expectant look. She raised a brow at him, but the offer was too tempting, so she slowly brought her hand up to drop it into his. He almost seemed to admire her hand as he ran his thumb across the back of her fingers.

"Two people can play the same instrument, but they'll always be different, and everyone has their own flair to bring. You put a little of yourself in anything you do, so of course it'd be different, and I'd love to eat whatever you make for me."

She blushed, pulling her hand away to rub the back of her neck with it. She should've expected a reply like that, but it surprised her nonetheless.

"I-if you're sure?" she said, trying not smile too much. Then, staring down at the apron and feeling a little daring, she asked, "Do you think you could help me with this first?"

His eyes lit up in realization; he knew exactly why she was asking. Beaming at her, he walked around to the back of her and confirmed, "I'd be happy to."

They both grinned like fools when she slipped the apron on and felt his hands against her back to tie it. She could tell already that they'd both enjoy the lessons to come.

[lisutarid-a]

[Gakuen K] Totsuka Tatara Route Translation

Even after graduation

LIST OF CHAPTERS

[Translation under the cut]

Kukuri: Good morning! Winter break went by in the blink of an eye, didn't it? Hey, did you go out anywhere?

Saya: No, nowhere. And you, Kukuri-chan?

Kukuri: I think I've only been to my mom's house.

Kukuri: Someday I'd like to go abroad like a celebrity~

Saya: Abroad, huh? Sounds tough.

Kukuri: Oh, you're not very interested it that, are you?

Saya: That's not the case. I'm a little nervous about the language and cultural barriers.

Kukuri: Ahaha, I'm sure you'll get used to those things.

Kukuri: Oh, right. Speaking of next year, let's go abroad together for graduation trip. A trip for two women! I think it'll be fun.

Saya: Wow, sounds great. A graduation trip, huh?

Saya: (Graduation…It's that time of year already)

Saya: Totsuka-senpai, you're graduating soon.

Totsuka: That's right. I think there's two more months to go.

Saya: …Right.

Totsuka: What's wrong?

Saya: N-no, it's nothing…

Saya: (I'm gonna miss Totsuka-senpai, but I can't say I don't want him to graduate)

Totsuka: I'm so excited. I can't believe I'm graduating with King.

Mikoto: It ain't decided yet.

Totsuka: Arara, you're saying that to yourself? You'll have to take the test again in the third semester, won't you?

Mikoto: …Probably.

Yata: I will miss Mikoto-san and others here when they're gone…

Totsuka: Yata! Don't cry like that. I wouldn't be able to come as regularly as Kusanagi-san, but I'll come as often as I can.

Yata: No, Totsuka-san…I'm not crying.

Saya: (I wonder if Totsuka-senpai won't be able to come. I guess we will have less time to see each other)

Saya: (I'm still going to miss him)

Kusanagi: Oh, hey. Are you leaving already?

Saya: No, I'm not. I was just going for a walk.

Totsuka: Well, be careful.

Saya: …Okay.

Saya: Wow, it's cold…

Saya: (But it seems like a good way to cool off)

Saya: …Even though I can't help but going to miss him.

Saya: He's older. I knew he was going to graduate.

Saya: …I knew it. But I'm still would miss him…

Saya: (I wonder if I'll be able to smile properly on the day senpai graduates…I wonder if I'll be able to send him off with a smile, I…)

Totsuka: You'll catch a cold like this, you know?

Saya: !

Saya: S-senpai?

Totsuka: What?

Saya: Em…Why are you hugging me?

Totsuka: Payback for the first sunrise. …You don't like it?

Saya: It's not like that. But… I feel uneasy when I can't see your face.

Totsuka: I see. …Well, then I'll hug you from the front.

Saya: W-Why are you here, senpai…?

Totsuka: Actually, I was wondering how you were doing, so I've been following you, sorry.

Totsuka: What's with a walk in this cold weather…?

Choice: [I just wanted to think about something] ❤

Saya: I just wanted to think about something a little bit…

Totsuka: I see. You got a bitter expression when you left.

Totsuka: …What's going on?

Choice: [It's nothing]

Saya: It's nothing. I just kind of wanted to… take a walk.

Totsuka: Really? Then why do you have such a bitter expression over nothing?

Totsuka: If you want, why don't you talk to me about it? I might be able to help.

Saya: …I can't say it.

Totsuka: Why?

Saya: Senpai would be shocked, because it's very selfish and egotistical.

Totsuka: I won't be shocked. Never. I want to know everything about you, and I want to talk to you about everything.

Totsuka: That's why, please.

Saya: (I'm no match for senpai. I feel like it's okay to talk about it)

Saya: Okay…I was worried about you graduating.

Totsuka: That I'm graduating…?

Saya: I thought I would have less chance to see senpai after he graduated, and that made me really sad.

Saya: I'd like to congratulate you on your graduation, but I'm more sad about it.

Totsuka: Saya-chan…

Saya: …

Totsuka: What is it? Such a thing.

Saya: Such a thing…! It's very important to me…

Totsuka: It's okay. Because I've been thinking about it for a while, too.

Saya: Eh! Is that so?

Totsuka: Uhm. But you know, I talked to Kusanagi-san about it, he said, "It's not a lifelong separation, so don't worry".

Totsuka: Sure, we'll have less time to see each other, but we can make that time even more fulfilling than it is now.

Totsuka: There's no need to miss me. Because my love for you would remain unchanged.

Saya: Senpai…

Totsuka: For the sake of my lovely kohai, I promise to show up at the clubroom as much as possible.

Totsuka: So, on the day I graduate, I want you to send me off with a smile.

Saya: …Okay!

[Prev chapter][Next chapter]

[theonewhoseinlovewithfictionals]

Mr. Here To Stay

Warning: contains adult languages. Minor, please do not read.

PART 2

You are sitting at your manager’s office talking about your performance this quarter, “with that, Y/N, I must say, the heads, including me, are impressed. You keep meeting expectations and exceeded them,” you blush as the Manager compliments you.

You: “ I-uhhh-thank you!” You blush even harder.

Manager: “We’re giving raise in your pay as well and might promote you.”

Your eyes widen, “R-really?!! OMG! I-I don’t know what to say, thank you!” You almost cry out of happiness.

The Manger reach out your hand, holding it firmly. With full sincere, “No, Y/N, thank you. You’re expertise help us a lot,”

You both giggle and had a small talk. After few minutes, you walk fast to your station.

N2: how was it?

You shriek out of uncontrollable happiness you feel, “they might promote me and give me a raise,”

They all wow and N1 hugs you, “I’m soooo very proud of you!!! How about a drink this weekend? Uh-huh?!!”

They all clamoring ‘yes’ and you agree. It’s been awhile since an alcohol run downs your throat and you miss the taste of bitterness in it. You haven’t taken a seat yet as the chatter continues. You are standing at your cubicle, half of your ass sitting on the table with your arms crossed.

N4 relaxing at ergo chair, "I’ve heard Dr. Marco have been blockbuster,"

You blink, oh, here we go again, you thought. You sigh in weariness but still continue to join in the conversation.

N1 nodded, "yeah, I bet my hubby’s have a very rough weeks." N1 said pouting.

You sigh, “really? Then that’s good! I mean, after seeing his signing bonus…”

N2 protested and even got seat up, "Oy! Have a little concern with the Dr., he’s human too, you know?!"

you fired back, "yeah right, it’s been what? Two weeks and everyday, I’ve been hearing his name. Everywhere. Like, literally! In the comfort rooms, canteen, hallway, even before I exit the hospital. Uggh-"

You roll your eyes.

N4 raising the coffee cup, "Well, he’s a doctor and he’s really has the look compared to the others and I think, single? That’s why girl around here is crazy about him,"

My eyes widen, "He’s not!"

N4 sips coffee and almost got choke but recovered. Their expression change like they see a ghost but you ignore it. Their body stiffen. You grab the paper on top of the box near your thigh. You flip the pages and stop at his resumé.

Looking at his resumé, "Look at him! Seriously?! Well---" you saaw again that pretty blue eyes which captivated you few weeks ago. You purse your lips. "--okay I’ll credit for his blue eyes because I really find it pretty," you finally admit it but you still don't agree the fact his handsome, "but... he looks like a pineapple! He’s not even that handsome!" Besides!" You aggressively flip the next page, it'll almost tear up, "And he didn’t even bother to check his marital status. Huh! This is a red flag, you know! He’s probably a playboy! Tss--" They are still silent after your burst and you notice N1 blushing, "Seriously, N1?Still like him?"

Suddenly, a sound of a pen clicks from your back. Then, a long arm comes in your sight, ticking the single box option in the marital status.

“I hope that satisfies you and your red flags,” He chuckles, “I thought my friends are just bullying me when they told me I look like a pineapple with my signature hairstyle. I guess they are not now. Aren’t we?”

You froze and processing what just happened. You figure out it was him. You felt drought in your throat. Your eyes slowly follows the white long sleeve and for a moment, both of you staring at each others eyes. Silence fill the air but your heart thumping out loud as you see his blue eyes. Your mouth half-open with the view. It's beautiful , you thought. Despite the negative comment your thrown to him, his eyes says otherwise. They are screaming positivity, which makes them even more beautiful.

No one dared to speak except from one, “Ah! Dr. Marco, it’s nice to see you here,” Your the first one who broke the longing stare. Hearing the footstep and familiarity of the voice, you knew it was your Manager who stood between you two.

Marco clears his throat and smiles at our Manager, “Hi! How are you? Yeah, it’s nice when you roam around and finally got a contrasting opinion, quite interesting, actually,” he grins while he throws a glance on you. Your sight fell down on the floor and praying the floor would suck you and send you to a different dimension.

Shit, Even though he didn’t drop your name, you know it’s you. You bit your lip and it seems like your muscle can’t move even an inch.

The Manager giggles softly, ” Well, as I can see, you met the star employee of our department,"

"star employee?" Marco seems to be interested. As he highlight the words, you feel more ashamed.

"yeah, Dr. Marco meet Y/N, the one will handle your department's reimbursements and payroll matters," Manager's body slightly directly to you, "Y/N, this is Dr. Marco, I presume you know him, right?"

You nod and forcibly put a smile on and look at him as if nothing happened, "Hi," you said in a low, soft voice which is the very opposite earlier.

"Hello, Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," he offers his hand which you immediately shake hands with him. His hand is big and incredibly warm which makes you comfortable. You're about to let go but he grips it tightly, "I'm looking forward working with you," he grins then he let go of your hand.

The Manager continues to formally introduce Dr. Marco to the other members but the doctor shares only his waving hand to them, "And that's all, my team,"

"They seem to be nice, especially, Y/N," your teeth grinds, you don't know if his being sarcastic, "oh, by the way before I forgot, here's the reimbursements from my department. I've already signed it for approval," He hands you the bunch of forms along with the receipts.

"Did you review this one as well?" You said in a unfriendly tone. The Manager nudges you, "I-I mean, of course, you approved it. Silly me. Don't worry, I'll process them right away," you smile plasticly, "Dr. Marco," you seat and try to focus on the monitor and acted to work.

----------

Your workmates went to a breaktime but you stay in front of the screen. Your mind keep coming back earlier and you feet guilty with the words you've said. Since the guilty is overpowering you, you gave up and stand up and go to the nearest bake shop.

As you open the front door, a cute little ring echoes, notifying the person in the shop that it has customer. You carefully check out the cupcake, bundt, doughnuts, breads, and other pastries. A staff approaches you with a cute pink apron, "Hi, what can I get you for today?"

"Uh--" Still undecided what to get for the Dr.,

"Is it for birthday?" The staff probe.

You shake your head no, "More of a...peace...offering?"

"Ahh-I see, boyfriend?"

"Uh no, more of a....co-worker?" You weren't sure about the right term.

"Then, Chocolate cupcakes are the best for peace offering in any kind of relationship,"

You smile, "I'd like to have one, please?"

"right away," The staff is busy tapping the cashier monitor and you pay as the staff at determine price. Since you have mentioned earlier that it was a peace offering, the staff really did a nice job at wrapping up the small cupcake. You even praise the staff for it.

You hurriedly get back to the office and look for a directory. You navigate the touch screen map located at the entrance of the hospital once you got the room to his office. You ran through the crowd. Upon arriving at the front door of his office, you catch your breath first and knock at his office door, "Come in,"

As your hand touches the cold door knob, you hesitate for a while. Nervousness creeps on your chest and having second thoughts of your action. But you are there already. You knocked and you said things to him, horrible one. You take a deep breath and open the door. You saw him busy looking at his whiteboard. You didn't let out a word, afraid that it might distract him so you sat in the chair quietly and watch him do his job.

You scan his room and you're pretty impressed with the neat and cleanliness despite being busy. You notice on the corner, a small coffee table with a picture frame on it. Being curious you are, you stand up and take a look at it. You grab the photo and saw two pictures divided in half, one is he's with a man whose way taller than him. Examining the figures, you guess. Maybe this is his father. Then, your eyes directed to the four men in a group photo. You inspect the picture and try to find the similarities between these men but minutes pass, you successfully failed. They all look different, one looks like a Japanese, the other two...you don't know but they have good looks as well then the last, it's him, "That's Izo, then Thatch, Ace - out little brother, and then there's me," an index finger pointing to each guy on the pic. You felt a comforting heat on your back and immediately turn around with the picture frame on your hand.

Dr. Marco was already at your back. There's not enough much space between you two. You have to lift up your chin since your height is only at his chest. You can also feel his warm breath on your skin, "so what brings you here?"

You too stun to speak as you see again those pretty blue eyes, "Uh...I...uhm..." You compose yourself, "I just wanted to hand you this," you lift your hand where the picture frame is.

He laugh which you find it a music to your ears, "Technically, that's mine but you do have a point though,"

"What?" your eyes bewilder as you see that you are offering him the picture frame, "Oh! no, not this one, sorry. It's this one," you barely lift the small bag, "but yeah--this one as well because it's yours, originally," you let out a small laugh. You rub your neck with the small bag on it. You realizes that it's kinda shitty, "Can I repeat again?"

He chuckles, "Yeah sure, you might want to give me the picture frame first," He offer his hand which you immediately give it to him.

You take a steps backward and prepares, taking a deep breath, "I'm sorry what I've said earlier. I-uhmm I shouldn't...judge you or said things...like that--" You can't keep an eye contact because those treacherous blue eyes is distracting you, "I mean, without knowing you, fully," there's a moment of silence, "here, my peace offering," you lift up the small gift bag while looking at him sincerely.

He smiles widely and accepting the gift, "Thank you, Y/N. That's thoughtful...and sweet."

You smile as well. There's still nervous but controllable now. You felt something lifted up from your chest, "I-uhm...gotta go now. I still have to work to do,"

"Understand. Thank you for this. I really appreciate it, Y/N."

You give him a last smile then go back to your department.

-------------- PART 3

[sopeecoffee]

Dial me up

Yoongi was diligently working at his studio when he got a phone call from an unknown number.

On the other end of the line? A not-so-truthful telemarketer trying to scam him.

pairing: sope genre: pwp, modern au tags and warnings: explicit 🔞 bttm!yoongi, top!hoseok, arguing, phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk word count: 5k

Read on AO3 ��

Read under the cut ⬎

•

Yoongi had been struggling with a particular song all afternoon.

Sometimes inspiration hit him suddenly, like a truck. It winded him and pushed him to pour it all into something before it seeped between your fingers and escaped his grasp… But then he was left the next day with a demo so messy he had no idea where to even begin with remastering.

That's where he was, where he'd been for the past five fucking hours, staring into his computer screen until he went cross-eyed and felt like he bordered on insane.

That's also when his phone made the unfortunate decision to ring.

He felt frustration bubbling under the surface of his skin, crawling from just beneath his shoulders and slowly up his neck. He didn't think, brain too fried to even read the unknown caller ID displayed on screen before swiping the green circle.

“Yes, hello?”

“Good afternoon," a chirpy voice he couldn't recognise spoke against his ear. "I’m Jung with Venture Life. How are you doing today, Mister Min?”

What the fuck was Venture Life?

“Uuuuuh good?” He said cautiously.

“That’s great to hear! I’m contacting you regarding your car insurance. It says here your contract with your current provider is about to expire and we wanted to walk you through our service package. Do you have the time right now?”

Something itched in Yoongi's mind. It was either the way those words were spoken, or the way they didn't watch up. He quickly opened his browser and typed the company's name in the search bar. Many results, to be sure. None of them positive.

Interesting.

“Time? Sure, I've got time,” he replied coolly.

“Great, so-”

“Just not for scam calls.”

“W-what? Sir, please, this is very serious!” The man sounded agitated. It gave Yoongi a sick sense of satisfaction. You fuck around, you find out, right?

“Yeah and so are the articles on my computer screen right now. Two million Won per customer on average, huh? How do you sleep at night.” Righteous indignation tasted good, especially after a shit day. And when he heard the man sigh on the other end of the call, Yoongi smiled cheekily to himself.

“Damn, you’re quick with it, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know Mr. Scammer, it seems pretty basic to me.”

“I’m not a-”

“Not a what, Mr. Scammer?”

The man was getting impatient, clicking his tongue and huffing in frustration.

“Listen, we practically only have old people on our database. They don’t know how to operate a computer.”

Database? Where did a company even find a database as specific as that? Social media? No, that had too widespread of an age-range, and much less an abundance of the elderly.

“Where’d you get it from?”

The man sighed. Yoongi could almost envision him rubbing his face with his free hand as he leaned back on his desk chair.

“Online pawnshop. Grimey looking website. You’d have to be sixty-five years-old to put your personal information into that thing.”

Oh.

“Or maybe a twenty-two year-old dumpster diver," he admitted. "What about you, though? Surely you’re old enough to know that the elderly deserve better than some smooth-talking prick stealing their retirement money.”

“This smooth-talking prick is just trying to put food on the table. At least I’m not… Diving in dumpsters.”

Yoongi cringed.

“That was weak, man.” 

“Fuck you," he said, exhasperated. "Those old men put anything interesting up for sale for it to be worth putting your phone number in it, Min?”

“Yeah, they did. Though I only expected to receive a cassette player and a CRT television, not some-”

“Sweet-talking prick,” the man offered, a bitter grin evident in his tone.

“Wow how self-aware," Yoongi commented sarcastically. "How’d you know?”

When the man replied, he was quieter, something particular in his voice lingering in the air and making stomach flip.

“Y’know your voice isn’t half bad, either.”

“I-I," he found himself stuttering, taken aback. "I wasn’t flattering you.”

“Too bad, I took it as such.” He sounded almost casual in his cockiness. Yoongi couldn't help but let his aggravation rise up once more.

“How big is that damn head of yours?”

“Just big enough.”

Yoongi sat quietly for a few seconds, blood rushing in his ears as his cheeks grew red. Was this guy for real right now? And why did it sound so tantalising when he spoke in that tone, darker and more playful than before...

No, he had to play it cool. There was absolutely no way he could let this complete stranger take a hold of him, especially after trying to scam him and worse yet, interrupt his precious work. 

Yes, he had his priorities in order.

“... Right," he drawled. "Is that what the ladies tell you to make you feel better?”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t take girls home." He spoke confidently, but Yoongi couldn't understand why. Who would admit to something so brazenly? But he kept going, sure he would reach him if he prodded enough.

“Yeah, I gather they run away from you before you get the chance.”

But no, it didn't touch him. Instead, he scoffed.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you-” Something clicked in his mind suddenly. “Oh.”

He was gay.

Like Yoongi.

“Mhmm,” he confirmed, just as laid back as before.

Well, this was just as much Yoongi's territory as it was the guy's. He could go all day.

“Well, in that case is that what the boys tell you to make you feel better about your totally very big enough head of yours?”

He clicked his tongue, growing frustrated.

“Why are you so difficult?”

“Why’d you call me in the middle of my fucking work?”

“For someone who’s so busy, you sure talk a lot. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Yeah, I sure love having my money stolen,” he rolled his eyes.

But he was right. Sure, Yoongi now had a personal vendetta against the guy and wanted to piss him off just as much as the man had pissed him off. Sure, he wanted to hear the man ripping his hair out for trying to get the better of him just because the shitty website he used sold his data to the highest bidder. It wasn't his fault the specific brand of cassette player he needed for one of his experiments was completely out of commission and impossible to find, save for one fifty-something old man on that vintage marketplace.

It was, however, completely this Jung guy's fault for getting him riled up and ready to fire.

And he seemed just as riled up, though. It was exactly what Yoongi wanted.

“Oh, your money, of course," he replied just as sarcastically as Yoongi. "I haven’t mentioned your car insurance in quite a while, have I? Would you like me to go back? We have many services you can choose from, but we suggest the premium package.”

Yoongi grinned to himself.

“How fascinating," he mocked. "I gather it costs two million Won?”

“Wow! I see you’re already familiar with the wonderful services our company offers! I love a man who comes prepared…”

Yoongi bit his lip, trying to contain his smile. He hated to admit it but the guy was a lot of fun.

“I’m sure you do, Mr. Scammer.”

He was quiet for a second. Then-

“Has anyone ever told you you sound like a car purring?”

Yoongi stilled, heart beating rapidly in his chest. He tried to sound aloof when he replied, but his voice wavered at the end.

“Not you too…”

“Not me what?”

“I get the cat thing often,” he mumbled, tracing the inseam of his jeans as though the strange man over the phone wasn't seeing right through him.

“People call you a cat?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well," he laughed. "You sure are feisty like one.”

“Bite me.” He rolled his eyes. And the stranger chuckled again, more muted and seductive.

“Maybe I will.”

Yoongi sat up a little straighter, face going red.

“Excuse me?”

“Too much?” The edge in his voice was then subdued, kinder and more patient. Yoongi licked his lips and considered the absurd, albeit not unwelcome situation. He hated to admit it, but the stranger was affecting him. There was no doubt about it. Be it the tone of his honey voice or the cocky confidence of someone who knew how to unravel another man with practised ease, it made Yoongi melt little by little. Which frustrated him, quite frankly. It should not be possible for someone so infuriating to be capable of making him blush so deeply.

Too much? the question echoed between his ears, laid back but careful. It wasn't too much, not at all. If anything he wanted more.

So he followed his instincts and let the man continue.

“... What do you want.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t know what you look like, but you sound hot. I’d definitely take a bite out of you.”

Yoongi felt his stomach flutter. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. You sound hot? Could the man hear how ridiculous he sounded?

“You’d go that far for someone from their voice alone? A little pathetic don’t you think?” Posturing was all Yoongi could do to save face after so openly allowing the man to continue his antics.

“You say it’s pathetic but you’re thinking it’s actually kinda charming,” he smiled through the receiver.

“Don’t you have other people to scam?" Yoongi pushed. "Isn't that what you're getting paid to do? Because you're definitely not getting paid to hit on people, that's for sure.”

The man sighed dramatically.

“Boss makes a dollar, I make a dime, that’s why I fuck pretty twinks on company time. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

Yoongi's jaw was slack as he digested those words, at the way he turned the slogan into something so raunchy and uncomfortably close to the truth.

“You’re so brave, Mr. Scammer," he kept pestering despite the spark growing between them. "Is that the best line you and your scammer co-workers could come up with for your union?”

“Nah, this is all me. Wanna hear more?”

Yoongi closed his eyes and imagined for a brief moment the man was speaking close to him, against his ear. The way his voice was so warm, the way it rasped when he was playful, the way it would slide from high to low in an instant. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“I’d really rather not, for my own sanity.”

He hummed.

“Your claws are really sharp, Min.”

He clenched his fist, feeling his blunt nails raking over his skin.

“I get that often, too.”

“Oh, you do?" There was a mean edge to the man's voice. God, he loved a mean man. "For you to be so pissy I can’t imagine you getting much action lately.”

Yoongi tutted. 

“You some kind of expert on how much dick pretty twinks get?”

“Just a lucky guess.”

The smile in his voice was so sexy, made Yoongi want him so badly.

So he decided to open the proverbial door just a tad, in hopes the man would continue until he saw stars.

“Tragically you are lucky indeed, Mr. Scammer,” he pouted as he admitted.

“I did give you my name, you know?" He said softly once more. "You can use it.”

“Oh, you actually gave me your real name? And you criticise me for putting my phone number into a shady website, Jung.”

“It’s technically a real company, Min," he kept smiling, unaffected by his taunting. "I have to give you my real name.”

“Technically," Yoongi scoffed. "You lecture me over my online safety practice but you work on the frontlines for a company getting sued for fraud." Then, more sardonically, "crazy how it’s still running at this very moment. You'd swear they'd be trying to cover their tracks.”

The man laughed.

“Crazier than the way you keep dodging me?”

Yoongi bit his lip, smile spreading too wide, cheeks burning too red.

“Absolutely, Jung.”

“Sure sounds nice coming from those lips.”

Yoongi imagined the stranger – Jung – lazing back in his desk chair with a lazy smile on his lips, legs spread just enough for them to look supple and mouth-watering. He imagined him resting his palm on his stomach, then running it slowly down to his crotch. He imagined the edges of his lips curling up at Yoongi voicing out his name in his deep baritone. The run-around was enticing, making his heart race.

He'd think the fact Jung was a complete stranger, someone he didn't even know the appearance of, would be enough of a reason for him to be put off by their predicament. But if he thought hard enough, he could see the faults in his rationale. Sure, he didn't know what Jung looked like, but they knew more about each other than his one night stands ever did. And he had a better grasp on Jung's spunky attitude than he did of any person he'd made out with at the club.

Not to mention the fact Jung was on the job. That only made it hotter.

“What do you want,” Yoongi asked once more. No more playing. He wanted to hear it from Jung's mouth.

“What do you look like?” Jung retorted instead.

Yoongi didn't know what to say at first. Where could he even begin?

“Hum... Black hair?" He tried. Jung hummed, guiding him to continue.

"It's a little overgrown, covers my eyes. Thinking of letting it grow out like those movie stars in the west.”

It felt a little vulnerable, saying something so menial to a stranger who wanted him, something he'd only conversationally mention to his friends over take-out dinner after one of them asked why he let it fall over his vision.

Jung didn't hesitate.

“I bet you’d look real pretty. And already do.”

It couldn't be true, because Jung didn't know him, but it made Yoongi blush just the same. He tried deflecting with a laugh.

“Sure.”

“What else?” He asked curiously. Yoongi looked down to himself, trying to find something to describe.

“Dark eyes, I guess. Dark brown. And my skin’s pretty pale, too, since I don’t really leave the house or my studio much.”

He sounded small to his own ears, the embarrassment getting the better of him, but making him smile regardless.

“Studio?” He seemed to have perked up.

“Yeah, I make music.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. I dance.”

Yoongi grinned.

“Really? What type?”

“Hip hop. Street dance.”

“Shit. Me too,” he said enthusiastically. “Music wise, I mean.”

The excitement in both their voices was palpable, Yoongi's chest swelling at their mutual closeness with a subject so personal to him. 

“We have a lot in common,” Jung mused.

Yoongi couldn't agree more as he tried and failed to calm the fluttering of his heart.

“Your turn,” he changed the subject, placing the spotlight on his flirty counterpart. “What do you look like? Aside from probably being ripped from b-boying.”

Jung laughed.

“I’m not ripped.”

Yoongi hummed, unconvinced.

“Sounds like something someone ripped would say.”

Still giggling, Jung continued.

“Anyways- I dyed my hair a medium brown recently. I think it looks pretty nice. Compliments my skin, I've been told.”

Yoongi couldn't deny how appetising that sounded.

“Tan? You sound like you’re out a lot.”

“You bet.”

“They make you do laps around campus like in highschool?”

“Pff. Hell no. I’m not in college for dance anyways.”

“Oh, what for, then.”

“Physiotherapy.”

Yoongi frowned, but it made a lot more sense. A dancer studying physiotherapy who worked at a scam company, the only place that would likely hire him. Heck, it was probably the only place with a flexible schedule.

“That’s really cool.”

Jung sighed.

“It’s for my parents more than myself, but I made sure I picked something useful for my dancing.”

He sounded tense, like the subject stressed him. Yoongi couldn't blame him - he knew that pressure first-hand.

Perhaps he should lighten the mood.

“Hmm. Sounds like you should be using company time to study, then. Medicine is no joke.”

Would he find it amusing? Or was it too sensitive of a subject, Yoongi wondered.

The lighthearted chuckle on the other end of the receiver made him smile in relief.

“You sure love bringing back comments about my dick, Min," he teased. "Just say the word.”

His heart raced.

“What word?”

“Say you want it," he stated. It wasn't the playful and excited tone it was mere moments ago. No, it was darker again, more promising, more dangerous and inviting. "I promise I’ll be nice... If you want me to.”

“You think you’re hot shit, huh?” Yoongi couldn't help but provoke despite the thrill that ran up his spine.

“You like it?” It was almost rhetorical, spoken with a grin that Yoongi mimicked.

“What do you think, Jung?”

"...You want to know what I think?"

Electricity sparked through his limbs, his core. The question was so honest in what it was, what it promised to become. Yoongi was in it now, and he knew it. And God, it was embarrassing how simple words and a teasing tone could affect him.

"I do," he took the bait, bracing himself for the words Jung had in store for him.

He made a little sound of approval over the phone and then proceeded.

“I think you’re a brat. I think you like riling guys up and frustrating them until they crack and fuck their frustration out on you senselessly. I think you pretend to be uninterested because you’re shy and feel the need to act tough to cover it up. I think you want someone to see through it and reach out, to push you until you admit how desperate you are to get fucked." 

Then, like he hadn't just dismantled him completely and left him bare, he asked with feigned innocence.

"Did I get that all right, Min Yoongi?”

Yoongi shivered at the words, felt his cock swell at the raw, unfiltered way Jung delivered his eerily accurate dissection of how he behaved with men he wanted. He felt naked, so exposed and god, if it wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever been told.

His ears burnt, his heart hammered against his ribcage and the throbbing between his legs had grown with every word that had been uttered. His thighs quivered from the way his growing arousal sent sparks that radiated throughout his limbs and the hand he'd left on his thigh travelled slowly up. His fingers grazed bleached denim until he felt the tough sewn fabric over his crotch. He pressed down to alleviate some pressure, hearing the way that sweet, devilish voice took him apart in a tone so mean, yet so comforting.

Did I get that all right, Min Yoongi?

"Y-yeah." He breathed, a little too vulnerable.

Jung chuckled.

“You’re already touching yourself?”

Shit.

“Maybe," he replied bashfully. His hand rubbed over himself again and he felt his toes curl at the sensation. It almost felt like an act of defiance, like he wasn't supposed to touch himself until he was given permission. But perhaps that was merely the type of power Jung had over people.

“Are you sitting right now?" He asked calmly, smiling as though he didn't have Yoongi under the palm of his hand. "At a desk?"

“Y-yes," He looked to the side. "I have a sofa, though.”

Jung laughed.

“Fancy. That’s good. Lie down on the sofa for me, if you can?”

It was framed as a question, allowing Yoongi as much leeway as he needed for his comfort. It was endearing.

He stood up and quietly cursed as he quickly adjusted the uncomfortable, tight state of the front of his jeans. He took off his slides, set his pillows against the arm rest and got himself comfortable.

“Okay. I’m lying down,” he spoke up.

Jung was quick to respond.

“Take your pants off.”

“Completely?”

“Yes.”

He unbuttoned and zipped down, breath faltering as it dragged over the sensitive, swollen flesh of his dick. Then, he lifted his butt off the couch and dragged his pants off his legs, together with his briefs. He dropped the items on the floor and looked down at his own state of undress.

He wore a black hoodie with minimalistic red text over the front, a few sizes too large so it covered the tops of his legs. It contrasted starkly against his pale, flushed thighs, and especially with his quickly hardening cock.

“Done,” he announced with anticipation.

“What’s your cock like? Pretty like the rest of you?”

Yoongi flushed further, huffing in disbelief.

“You don’t know if I’m pretty.”

“I’m sure you are,” he replied confidently. Yoongi didn't know if it was frustrating or captivating. Probably both.

“Sure… My cock’s normal I guess," he offered. "A little on the shorter side, maybe? It’s a bit thick though, I think…”

Jung chuckled.

“You think?”

Yoongi frowned, feeling embarrassed.

“S-shut up.”

“Don’t worry, it’s cute," he said with a wide grin. It was driving Yoongi crazy how he could hear it so clearly and yet couldn't catch a glimpse of it. He was a sucker for a nice smile, especially when attached to someone as magnetic as Jung.

"I wish I could suck you off," the man continued. "Wish I could feel your thighs tremble under my hands.”

“Too bad,” Yoongi said in an act of rebellion. He couldn't help it, it was too easy.

Jung clicked his tongue.

“Be careful…”

His tone had gotten darker again, sharp and ready to fire.

Yoongi pressed his thighs together, gently squeezed the pink head of his cock.

“Oh yeah? Or what.”

He heard Jung exhale.

“I’ll shove my cock down your throat and keep it there until you can’t breathe.”

Yoongi bucked into his own fist unconsciously and gasped. The thought was so dizzying, as was the build-up. He truly wanted nothing more than this stranger's cock in his mouth as he held onto his hair tightly and made Yoongi take all of him. All because he misbehaved. He deserved it.

“Fuck,” he whined, easing his grip on his dick and feeling precum dribble onto his fingers.

“Touch yourself slowly," Jung assured, contrasting his previous bite. "Don’t rush.”

“What about you?” He asked a little too eagerly.

“I’m doing the same.” Yoongi wished he could see it. He thought of this stranger with golden skin stroking his cock languidly, athletic body making his stomach and thighs slim and wiry. He wondered how Jung imagined him, too. Did he picture his overgrown dark hair fanning over his eyes messily? Did he picture his pale fingers wrapped around dark pink flesh? Could he guess his cherry lips were pretty and parted as his breathing stuttered with every stroke?

“What are you gonna do to me?” He almost pleaded.

“I want you to finger yourself a bit," Jung instructed. "Want you to feel a little full, pretend it’s me. That okay, Min?”

Yoongi shook his head despite nobody being there to see it.

“Yoongi. Call me Yoongi. Please.”

“Okay Yoongi." He bit his lip. It sounded so good coming from those lips. "I want you to wet your fingers real good. Use as many as you usually do.”

“How would you know if I did this to myself often?”

He couldn't help but smile to himself as he bent his knees and lathered his fingers in saliva.

“You don’t?” The question was genuine, confusion etched clearly in his voice. It made Yoongi giggle.

“I have toys to do it for me," he explained, the pad of his middle finger circling his entrance. "Better angle.”

“Naughty,” Jung said playfully.

“More like resourceful.”

And with that, Yoongi plunged in, body accepting the intrusion easily. He thrust it in and out gently, acclimatising himself to the sensation before adding his ring finger as well.

Meanwhile, Jung hummed to himself, considering what Yoongi had said.

“How big are the things you fuck yourself with?”

“Big enough,” he said confidently, albeit a bit strained. He thrust both fingers eagerly, quicker, loving the way his sensitive hole fluttered around his digits. Still, the angle wasn't the best, and Yoongi wished the other was there to do a better job of reaching that lovely spot in his body.

“Not ambitious?" Jung teased. "What if I’m bigger than the stuff you have at home?”

“Cocky bastard,” he bit back, as if it didn't turn him on further.

“You have quite a mouth on you.”

“Too bad you’re not here to keep it busy.”

“Shit," he gritted out, just as strained as Yoongi was. "You can go faster, baby.”

He obeyed, fisting his cock once more and shoving his fingers faster into himself.

“Aah- Shit.”

“Are you thinking about my fingers in you?" Jung asked, a little out of breath. "I could fill you up nicely. They’re pretty slim but they could still fill you up and stretch you nice and good. Can reach where you might be struggling to right now.”

As his hole stretched around his fingers, cock sensitive and leaking, Yoongi whined. He pictured Jung's faceless body between his open legs, fingerfucking him until he was open and wet and ready for him. He'd curl his fingers deep inside of him and make him see stars until he was left shivering on the couch. He didn't care if they weren't as thick as his own, that really didn't matter, but it was a great visual to add into his mental folder.

“Pretty fingers are good too,” he sighed, breath growing heavier as his pleasure escalated.

“Hm. Glad to know. My cock’s fuller though. Might hurt a little bit going in if I don’t prep you well enough.”

Yoongi's head was swimming, hips stuttering into his fist once more. He sounded so reassuring and kind, but he was a menace, purposefully riling him up. Jung understood just exactly what he liked and how he wanted it, and was teasingly dropping those breadcrumbs in front of him.

He wanted the man in him right then, splitting him in half in the cock he promised to give. He didn't care if he was playing it up for the fantasy, anything would make him feel good and full compared to his own fingers in his lonely studio.

“Hurting can be good too," he said, voice small and needy. "Just a little is good.”

“Yeah? Want me to stuff you until you’re at your limit?”

Yoongi wanted to know what he was feeling, how close to climaxing he was, how affected by Yoongi he was. His voice was growing raspy and airy, exerted from his effort. Yoongi moaned, wishing the proposition to be true, picturing it as he fucked himself.

“Please, Jung,” he whined, heat pooling low in his gut as his climax neared.

“Hoseok,” the man offered. "My name is Hoseok."

Yoongi didn't think twice.

“Please, Hoseok. I want you so bad...”

“You beg so nicely... Do you also get on your knees or would I have to push you a little?”

“Push," he groaned, tightening his fist around his cock. "I bite.”

Hoseok laughed lightheartedly.

“Hopefully not there.”

“N-no!" Yoongi stammered. "No, I just meant-”

“I know, I know, it’s okay," he reassured gently. "Would you like me to bite you too? For real though?”

“Hng- yeah. I love it.”

“Bet you taste so good. Neck, shoulders, even your thighs.”

Yoongi was growing incoherent the closer and closer he reached his orgasm. Hoseok's words were striking him deep, as did his own fingers working their way in his body. The picture of the dancer between his legs grew more vivid as he imagined him leaning down and tasting his skin. It set a flame alight in his body, moans filling up the room.

“Yes, please. God, so good...”

“You like how it hurts?" He mocked. "I’m sensing a pattern.”

“Please, Hoseok…”

“I wish I could," he pressed. "I’d make it so obvious you were with someone. Mark you all purple and red. Would make you feel so good, just the way you want it.”

He hastened his pace, treading right on the edge with his jaw hanging open.

“Hoseok, I’m, I’m-”

“Go ahead, cum for me," Hoseok told him, breathing heavily and struggling to keep his voice even. "Cum around my cock. You feel so good around me too, Yoongi...”

He came with a gasp, shuddering violently as cum spurted all over the pale skin of his thighs.

On the other end of the receiver, he heard Hoseok grunt an expletive under his breath before moaning long and drawn-out, no doubt imagining he was deep in Yoongi's tight body. And Yoongi kept pumping his cock with a loose fist as he heard him climax, eyes closed, picturing Hoseok over him, bodies close as he groaned in Yoongi's ear. The remaining bits of cum dripped down his hand before it came to a stop, but he barely paid it any mind. He was panting, as was Hoseok over the phone, both quiet as they caught their breath.

“Wow,” Yoongi broke the silence, limbs feeling like jelly.

“Yeah,” Hoseok agreed, a winded little laugh mingling with his words.

“Hoseok.”

“Yoongi.”

They tasted each other's name on their tongue.

“You do this with all your unsuspecting customers?”

Hoseok snickered.

“My elderly gullible customers? No thanks.”

Yoongi pressed his lips in a pout.

“Maybe you do, though. I'll have you know my friends call me grandpa to clown on me.”

“So I fucked both a cat and a grandpa?" He feigned shock. Yoongi rolled his eyes. "A grandpa cat? How crazy is that?”

“You’re so silly.”

“You haven’t hung up though.”

He fought back a smile.

“I almost did. So many times.”

“And yet here we are. My killer charm never fails me.”

“Look at that, the urge to hang up has returned! Funny how that works.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You like it.”

Hoseok laughed brightly. Yoongi wanted more of it.

“I really do," he admitted. "So, Yoongi, wanna give your phone number to another unreliable source?”

He laughed, forearm coming up to cover his eyes in disbelief. At the man he spoke to. At the situation he was in.

Still, the answer was as obvious as it was easy to confess.

“Maybe I do.”

•

I hope you enjoyed! 💗

Tip jar 💟 Commission sheet

[xiv-wolfram]

Empathy - Comic Script

Prequel - Age 25

Roughly 15 years before the events of A Realm Reborn, Wolfram (the future Warrior of Light) and Raubahn Aldynn have been together for a couple weeks.

Catch up on my WoL Comics (Chronological List)

Part 1

Wolf and Rau walking around the footfalls of Western Thanalan talking. Narrator - "15 years before the events of ARR. Wolfram (cook and future Warrior of Light) and gladiator Raubahn Aldynn have been dating for a few weeks."

Wolf talking excitedly, gesturing as he walks - "-so you cover the onions to make sure they cook without browning. Otherwise the sauce will have a bitter taste." Rau smiling.

Fighting monsters. Wolf rushes one of those crab creatures and stabs it through the eye. 

Rau watching him, beaming. Thought - 'Wow, he really is skilled with a blade. Certainly could be a gladiator if he still wanted it…though I don't know if I could handle seeing him hurt.'

They're walking again. Wolf talking excitedly, gesturing with hands - "Area rugs can be utilized in an open concept to help define individual spaces. " Rau smiling, nods, thought - 'I see he learned a lot growing up decorating inn rooms.'

Fighting monsters. Rau jumps up and slices through a vulture with a downward slash. Wolf thought - 'It's amazing to see him fighting up close like this. I have the best seat in the Coliseum right here…heh.'

They continue walking. Wolf talking excitedly, beaming - “And those that didn't flee to Gyr Abania settled in Thanalan, founding Belah'dia, which eventually broke into Sil'dih and Ul'dah …I’m speaking a lot aren’t I? Usually someone stops me by now.” Rau grins, thought - 'He's adorable.'

Rau beams - "I love hearing you speak so passionately. And besides, you're voice is drawing enemies to us which has been quite enjoyable. I’m excited to finally see you fighting." Wolf smiles smugly - “I’m glad to be met with your approval. I haven’t fought in front of a professional before.”

Fighting monsters. Back to back power couple pose. 

Kissing in the water against a rock. 

Zoomed in shot. Smiling at each other.

Rau grins - "I must say…fighting together like this is doing something for me. I uh…" Wolf grins - "Oh, I'm aware… and the feeling is mutual."

Rau confused, steps back - "Alright now, that's several times that you have mentioned feeling or knowing what I want. What do you mean by that?"

Wolf embarrassed - "Oh…I'm sorry I've not had to explain it before. My family already knew…let me think."

Rau raises an eyebrow in confusion. Thought - 'Huh?!'

Wolf uncomfortable - "So, since I was very young I've been able to sense people's emotions. Not everyone and not always. My grandmother said I'm an empath. That the gift shows up in our family sometimes. …I'm sorry I'm sure this sounds very odd."

Rau surprised - "Oh! I've heard of similar gifts yet had never met anyone with them. So … do you know what I'm feeling right now?"

Wolf smiles - "I believe mild curiosity? And you're quite tired as well. It's difficult to read if the emotion isn't strong. It's also stronger the closer I am with someone. So I usually have an idea with you but I couldn't just walk up to someone on the street and sense them."

Rau awkward, light blush - "So then is that how you um… knew what I wanted in bed?"

Wolf smiles, blushing - "Aye…some of it. I knew you wanted me to take control because of it. Is that a problem? I could understand if it feels like an invasion of privacy. If you prefer I can stop doing it to you. I just… wanted to get things right and make you happy…"

Rau smiles comforting - "No, if this is a part of who you are then I shall love it along with the rest of you. Besides… I often struggle to express myself properly or ask for what I want. This could be a good thing."

Wolf beams - "I must admit I was a bit nervous to tell you. Thank you for accepting me as I am."

Rau holds him. Wolf's head on his chest, turned to the side. They're smiling.

 Rau smirks, looking down at him - "So…what am I feeling now?" Wolf grins - "I think it's about time you showed me your apartment."

Part 2

Rau’s apartment (build set. Small Ul'dah studio/open concept. Minimal.). Rau gestures around - “Well, as you can see it’s not much but -”

Wolf beaming - “It's nice! Cozy, clean, and most importantly feels very 'you'. I love it!”

Rau surprised - “Oh? I’d been a bit embarrassed to have you over. Given how upscale your inn room is…”

Wolf blushes - “Ah.. that…” Rau curious - “What?”

Wolf looking away uncomfortably - “Well, I must confess I picked a fancy room as I wanted you to be comfortable.The regular rooms were quite bare but would have suited me fine.”

Rau beams and caresses Wolf's cheek - “Ah, Wolf you didn't have to do that. Although the gesture is appreciated.”

Wolf beams - “It’s not a big deal. Besides, I’m getting a good rate now that I work there. And I’ll admit having a private bath has worked out nicely for us.”

Rau laughs - "Indeed it has! I suppose the other guests would object to our use of the public bath." Wolf, grins, looking off dreamily, thought - 'That does sound exciting though… Maybe I can convince him some night…'

Wolf refocuses, looking at the open kitchen - "The kitchen is also quite nice… I can tell you're hungry. I'd love to cook you dinner here after."

Rau smirks. Thought - 'He knows when I'm hungry, horny, or tired. This will take some getting used to but his gift is strangely relaxing to me.' Says - "That sounds like a fine idea. After what?" Wolf smug - "Well, after you give me a tour of that shower of course."

Rau grins and picks him up - "Ah, yes we do need to clean up after all that fighting." Wolf winks - "Yeah…that's why."

They kiss as Rau carries Wolf to the shower.

Catch up on my WoL Comics (Chronological List)

[consumeroflemoans]

So my elf warlock (He/She/They)

They're from some kind of prestigious family, but they sucked ass at magic school, lots of reading and studying and almost no practical results whatsoever, though they still hold the firm belief that they are actually smarter and more righteous and better than others, not in the way of being oblivious, they are on many levels acutely aware that they're really not very good at this whole thing, but admitting to it would destroy a part of their soul so denial runs deep

"If I was a bit more lucky I could be great", similar sentiments and such, she believes she could better the world if she had the ability to and deeply desires to prove it, but moreso for the sake of proving it, she wants to be powerful enough to enact change, but has no true plans for how so, it's simply something that would an ambigious Good on account of being driven by her

The craving for approval and assurance mistaken as one for admiration and control

Next a "magical artifact", a sickle so old that those who guarded it have forgotten why it has been guarded in the first place, slowly fading into what is moreso a display piece, impressive by its mere age but not regarded for anything else, a part of an exhibition

Whoopsie, there's a Thing inside

Said Thing looks at this utterly bitter failed magic user and goes "Oh yeah"

A tug at the back of his mind, a little telepathic talking to and he decides to actually just steal that sickle

And wow, what a wonder, suddenly she's pretty good at magic, who would have though, that's not suspicious at all!

But yeah, they aren't quite as skilled as they'd like to be, technically a beginner, but they get praise quickly enough, people are suprised and maybe even impressed, people like it and it's eating them alive

He feels like he's on the verge of vomiting any time he looks someone in the face, he feels like he's trapped in a shadow play, he feels like a fraud

Now that he actually has gotten what he wanted, more or less, the fear of losing it grips him so tightly it threatens to strangle him, their cheers are conditional, able to be lost, quite easily at that, in response to this, more denial

It's simply the case that someone may wrongfully try to take her newfound abilities, that she by the way definetly totally 100% believes she deserves, away from her so what she has to do is strengthen them to such an extent that no one would be able to and for that she needs to leave like right now because uh

People are holding her back, uh-huh, that's it, yeah, sounds right

So adventure embarking, the Thing is of course still whispering into his ear, much more clearly now that he decided to respond, it furthers the doubts in roundabout ways, it establishes itself as his biggest "believer" though really it's simply the most willing to give him admiration and it is actively to thank for the acquisition of his newfound power since it, as it claims, "saw his potential"

They're also simply put a bit of an ass, since they have a still remaining burning need to prove themself and now enough skill to actually back up their ego at least a bit and they're with strangers who didn't know them before, they don't really have to bite their tounge about anything even if they try to maintain some base level of politeness, but generally their arrogance is a bit noticeable, very know-it-all

Anyway, the group does stuff together, they do the shit the Thing in the sickle tells them to do to "prove themself worthy" and keep up the magic supply, the things the whispers promise get increasingly grandiose, "you will be the one to usher in a new era" type of shit, there's the inevitable closeness between those you have experienced so much with, friendship and all that fun stuff, eventually they fulfill most of what sickle Thing tells them to do to like get to their destiny

Uh-oh, it's a fucking demon or some shit like that and now she's possessed

There's a fight, Thing gets beaten into submission and everyone dies, except for her and after the end of all that, sitting between what remains of her friends, people she wasn't even that close to, people she could have been closer to had she not been single-mindedly stuck on her own goal, something that wasn't even truly good, but simply something she wanted, she has to admit to herself now, had she looked beyond herself, had she not viewed herself as deserving of being so mighty, had she not failed to be on her own in the first place

Now he's every bit as bad as he was before and cannot hide behind denial anymore

Anyway she's so deeply ashamed that she hides inside a cave for literal years

That's exactly where they're discovered again, I like to think a little kid was playing and ran inside and saw that fucked up looking elf in the corner and went like "Hello there, I don't think this is a good place to live" and they were so tired of living in a cave that they came along to the kids village when it insisted on taking them there, they also feel deeply guilty for leaving their self-imposed exile, but it's not like there's anyone who could hold them accountable for it, they're the only person who knows of the crime they commited, they're appaled at their own lenience, but also so done with the cave

Now they got taken to the village and the village was like "Oh, hello, nice to meet you" and just let them stay there, some people helped them integrate and they work behind the counter in a bar now, they don't have experience with intense physical labour and the only thing they studied, they're not only pretty bad at, but they've pretty much sworn off so they've been taught how to man the counter and they work there now

And occasionally the bar hosts what is in essence an open-mic and there's this one woman who comes each week and sings and she's damn good and she's working hard to get even better and the little elf stands behind the bar and looks at the stage and watches her perform and sometimes she comes and orders something and they chat, but ooooh, he feels so much guilt, he shouldn't be allowed to be this okay, downright happy even when he talks to her, he shouldn't be allowed to talk to her at all, she doesn't even know about the big crime

Funnily enough they actually met once before the big crime when the group took a stop in this very same establishment and also watched her perform there, they didn't quite flirt, but they chatted briefly and elf guy got flustered, it's in a way comforting to know she's still there and doing her thing and even if she doesn't know, simply existing in the same room also proves in a roundabout way his past life doesn't completly reject him

I don't think the singer know she's the same guy as back then, the conversation wasn't long and she changed a bit to say the least, but she recognizes the singer

And also feels like she's lying to her in every single Interaction they have

A little note on the side, way back when I came up with the singer I had recently watched Chicago and was wholly enarmored with the performance of Queen Latifah, I may be aroace but that song was a thing of beauty, so while definetly not the same personality as the role she played that's also kinda similar to what I imagine in my head on appearance and voice

Also, I didn't mention it in the first ask because it was a very quick one, but hey, hi, it's me

-Leuchtturm

Leuchtturm I’m afraid your warlock is Babygirl™️ material

I am absolutely obsessed with this lore. I love characters that are genuinely not that great people being given power. Also I’m really curious on the lore of the Thing itself and what it is

Also omg I am obsessed with how this elf going from the most traumatic character developing experience of their life only to be shoved into a slice of life AU at the end of it. Like he is so lost and I love it