#you must see the vision you must see the yearning you must see them dying and going to super hell for being gay and still coming back
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julesofnature · 2 months ago
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 Goddess of the seasons, there is a time for everything: there is a time for dying and a time for rising.  We need courage to enter into the transformation process.
        Creator of autumn, the trees are saying goodbye to their green, letting go of what has been.  We, too, have our moments of surrender, with all their insecurity and risk. Help us to let go when we need to do so.
        Ancient Mother of fallen leaves lying in colored patterns on the ground, our lives have their own patterns.  As we see the patterns of our own growth, may we learn from them.
        Birthing Goddess of misty days and harvest moon nights, there is always the dimension of mystery and wonder in our lives.  We always need to recognize your power-filled presence.  May we gain strength from this.
        Nurturing One of harvest wagons and fields of ripened grain, many gifts of growth lie within the season of our surrender.  We must wait for harvest in faith and hope.  Grant us patience when we do not see the blessings.
        Mother Wisdom of geese going south for another season, your wisdom enables us to know what needs to be left behind and what needs to be carried into the future.  We yearn for insight and vision.
    Daughter of flowers touched with frost and windows wearing white designs, may your love keep our hearts from growing cold in the empty seasons.
    Spirit of Life, you believe in us, you enrich us, you entrust us with the freedom to choose life.  For all this we are grateful. 
'A Prayer for Autumn Days', (adapted version), original by Joyce Rupp
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angelsdean · 2 years ago
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home always feels like an episode they should have waited a season or two to do to me, when the mythology and characters were a little more lived it. I don't know if this makes sense, but i think in any other season, or even this season in the backhalf, this set up would have lent itself to a classic Dean Studies episode, and it feels weird that once we're actually in the house, we're actually seeing Mary, we totally pull back on Dean. Honestly, outside of the phone call to John, he's very sidelined despite this being an easy set up to explore backstory for him as the only character there who has a memory of the fire. And even Sam as the POV character falls flat not because there isn't interesting tension there, it could have worked! but because it's so heavy unfolding the psychic plot point and it's clear that that's more important to the episode than the family mythology. It just feels like you could take the bones of the episode, drop into season 3, and get something that looks completely different. (You said this much more eloquently re: the narrative, but I'm on s2 of my own rewatch and i keep thinking about this, haha).
hii sorry i didn't answer this sooner, but yea that's def how i felt rewatching it like, it just feels like it comes too soon for it to really *do* anything. we haven't yet really felt the haunting absence of mary. their main plot focuses rn are 1.) finding john (and in conjunction w/ that, finding and killing azazel) and 2.) literally just starting in this ep, sam's psychic visions. the whole concept of going back home and being confronted w/ their mother's literal ghost who recognizes and can talk to them is a HUGE thing that deserved to be the main focus, not a footnote in an ep trying to introduce a major plot element, sam's visions.
literally like you said, there's IS tension from sam's POV but they just don't go anywhere with it, since the focus is more on his psychic visions. like the scene w/ sam and mary could've been so much more. and if this came later in the season, or even a few seasons later, mary's "i'm sorry" to sam would've held more weight and packed a punch bc she feels responsible for what's happened to sam !!! for the deal w/ azazel and causing sam to be infected w/ demon blood. but sitting in the 9th episode of s1 where we still barely know anything it just falls flat and feels like she's just apologizing for what? dying? of course we have the gift of knowing everything to come later, but i'm trying to put myself in the shoes of the 2005 audience. what would they have thought she was apologizing for? like up until s4 that audience doesn't even know about mary being a hunter or her deal. so like, for those early years, it would just seem like she was apologizing for i guess not getting to sam fast enough to stop azazel and for dying ??
but yea anyways i feel like dean should've been the central character for an episode like this and we already know mary's death was traumatic for him. he tells lucas in 1x03 how he stopped talking after mary died. he tells lucas he's scared all the time but tries his best to be brave bc he thinks it's what his mom would've wanted. mary is such a central figure in dean's life and memories and is thee anchor to the myth of the "perfect family" that never was that dean is constantly yearning for and why family is so important to him. also comments like dean saying he always wanted to be a firefighter when he was a kid reveal a lot abt how much the fire affected him and fueled his desire to save people. and then in 1x09 Home itself, we see dean go in to save the blonde mom while he tells sam to save the kids which is interesting bc in 1x03 dean immediately goes for the kid and lets sam save the mom. so, it feels like subconsciously there's something there with dean and his desire to save mary. and this would've been a great episode to explore that trauma and guilt he has for not being able to save her (and god it's so irrational and he must know it, he was literally 4 yrs old what could he have done !!!) but still.
anyways this is getting long but yea i think at the very least, home should've come later in the season and not have to share the plot w/ introducing sam's psychic powers. there's just SO much they could've done with the whole concept of going back home and seeing mary's ghost. i wanted them to feel haunted !!!! haunted by home and the myth of mary !!!!!
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loneberry · 2 years ago
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Sátántangó // dead girls // insomnia // etc
There are many things I’ve been wanting to write about—Sátántangó (spoilers below), oceanic primitive accumulation (fuck you Norway), the ontology of Ibn ‘Arabi, Susan Taubes + Susan Sontag as doubles/rivals, Robert Hurley’s event (a hymn to every saint who has ended up in the asylum), my sleepless visions. (I saw the white door of the world open, and squatting at the entrance staring back at me was my dead dog Lucky, as a puppy—everything I love vanished as it passed through the doorway of my mind’s eye, until I too passed through that dimensionless portal, like the thread of the self entering the eye of eternity’s needle, entering…and disappearing. “It was a white space and in it I did not know who I was,” I wrote in my journal long ago. Recursive time: over a decade ago I was reading Simone Weil and thinking about the transmogrification of suffering into grace.)
I want to write about Estike dying a beautiful death, with its “unutterably beautiful logic,” a death of connection, the girl of the gutter expiring in the ruins of a church. “‘Yes,’ she quietly repeated to herself, “the angels see this and understand it.’” I wanted to write about the chain of abuse, what people do to those they have power over, how the abused become petty tyrants, disgusted by the weakness of those without defense, those one rung below them on the ladder. I will do to you what has been done to me. So the damned girl Estike tells her cat: “I’m stronger than you.” O how much her sadism toward the weak creature reminded me of my dead ex girlfriend’s spiteful cruelty. The way Estike shoved her cat’s head into the poison milk reminded me of the way M violently shoved her fingers into my mouth while shouting, “There, there—is that what you want!” (I had gotten upset when she told me about how she would suck her ex-girlfriend’s fake cock while performing in her noise band. How M delighted in humiliating me, in humiliating others.)
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I see Estike observing the community of humans from outside—is it a gaze of indifference, yearning, or misanthropy?—as she stares at the drunken revelers through the window. That partitioning, too, between the outcast and the in-cast, reminded me of M. Did she ever watch Sátántangó before she died? She would often talk about wanting to watch it. We believed… there was so much time to watch it. One day…until our days are over. Evocation of the bells, a perfect vision of authority’s darkness.
Why kill the one you love? I wrote in my notebook.
During the film I remembered… the voice of entreaty, the voice of prayer—that cry from the heart when, 11 years ago, I asked God: Will I ever see her again? No, I did not see her. Had I received the answer then—the brutal monosyllabism of an unqualified No—I would have been inconsolable.
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(Once I saw someone on a bus in Boston I thought might be her, someone wearing rainbow leggings—it must have been a ghost.)
When asked about the influence of Tarkovsky on his work, Béla Tarr said, “You want to know the difference between me and Tarkovsky? I don’t believe in God.” Béla Tarr does have a way of profanizing—of lampooning—every gesture toward the mystical. The bells that woke Futaki? The doctor notes: they could not have come from the chapel, the tower having collapsed during the war. Infernal tolling, belfry of the tortured imagination! Subversion of Tarkovsky’s sublime bell motif: in a Godless world, the tolling that the townspeople all hear coming from the ruins of the chapel is just a madman clanking and hollering about the coming of the Turks. When Irimiás hears the drone and falls to his knees before the ruins where Estike has killed herself, his sidekick Petrina asks, “What, you’ve never seen fog before?” (Reverence is always slapped down with irreverence.)
*
In the early morning through the jasmine gate the jacaranda weeps violetly (because colors should be adverbs…)
In the late-day setting sun annunciation of the light-limned lily crooning the voice of Daniel Johnston cracking with the true love he wants to find him
(The light the light the light…)
I wanted to write all of it—but I’m operating at about 5% of my cognitive capacity, on almost no sleep for weeks, waiting for the mercy of a wished-for neurochemical leveling. It’s hard to write in this haze. I can’t tell you how much I miss writing myself into a state of ecstasy. But now there’s just the state of the dysregulation of the serotonin and noradrenergic systems, paresthesia migrating across my face as I wonder—will I be strong enough to bear it, to face who I am without pharmacological appendage?
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Pray I will one day be able to sleep as soundly as this baritone ginger dreaming of the dog contemplating the freedom of the birds. The dreamers soaring above the broken Earth, watching the planet die. “Baby this faith is all I have…this faith is all I have.”
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spookyspaghettisundae · 1 year ago
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All Invited to the Black Wedding
A glass shard clinked, then another fell from the same shattered frame. Dust motes danced in the light pouring in through bullet holes in the walls.
Shadow came and went, a cloud of darkness hugging the walls and corners, and engulfing Agent Parker’s mind, only releasing it whenever her consciousness rose from the black bottom of the cosmos to the surface of the world.
Anima mundi. Here and there.
Alive and dying.
She was fading. Life fleeting.
Mikey, whispered the Shadow. It loomed in the dark of the room around them, and it thrummed like a pulse in the unseen to which her fading consciousness connected.
My MVP’s down for the count, so it’s up to you to pick up her torch.
Michael offered no response to the Whispers. With sweat beading on his forehead, he focused on the wound on her belly. Where her blood kept pumping out with each beat of her pulse.
The darkness swallowed her again for another blink of an eye. Her lids fluttered and only the white in her eyes remained as she crossed over boundaries between every world she could imagine.
Then he was back, ignoring the Whispers. Looming over her, Michael’s hand radiated an eerie warmth, hovering just above her weeping injury. A sharp sting of pain spread from there throughout her whole body, like an invisible explosion, taking her back into the world of the living for a violent split-second in which all things flashed bright white.
Then she started to fade again, fingers slipping from the sleek surfaces of glassy darkness on the edges of her vision, all creating a tunnel in which the last thing she beheld was Michael’s gritted white teeth.
Parker knew he could hear it.
The voice. The Whispers.
Michael’s face was twisted with fear and desperation. The stink of fear erupted from his pores, while he did all he could to stop her from slipping into the cold embrace of death.
Drifting through a sea of stars, she caught glimpses of the shot-up walls and windows of Klemens’ old ranch house. The roof of the porch outside sagged where one of its thin beams had been blown away by bullets. The old dry wood and rusty metal and glass, all torn to shreds by automatic gunfire and rifle shots.
An odd sensation flowed from her digits through her limbs, all the way into her center, until she perceived the warmth of her own blood soaking the worn rug beneath her lower back, and the fabric of her clothing having absorbed it like a heavy sponge.
Where a bullet had torn up her insides, more pain flared up as reality checked back in with a hammer to her forehead, and another bright flash of light from her inner eye. And Michael’s hand, burning with power, was slowly drawing all the bullet fragments out, sliver by sliver. His deathly magick drew the deathly mundane to his palm with a painful slowness.
Then the pain eclipsed all. Darkness engulfed her again. And through that darkness, the Whispers reached her anew.
No longer speaking to her. Riding the waves of invisible wavelengths in the ether, dark tendrils of nothingness caressed her fingertips like thin and silky tentacles. They wormed themselves though this oblivion, while she wriggled her fingers between them. A gentle, soft touch.
It was like catching stray radio waves.
Words not meant for her. Not meant for her to hear them thus.
Mikey, I’m sure your mommy told you not to talk to strangers growing up, but surely you must see, our goals align. I know you want that book, and I can help you use it. You know I know how to. You know I’m the only one who knows how to use it right.
You can do whatever you want with it. I’m only interested in what follows. The world beyond. Chalk it up to shared curiosity. From one explorer to another. We yearn to poke our wee little fingers through the fabric of reality, and see what light shines through? Right?
“What are you?” Michael whispered through gritted teeth, a hiss that reached Parker’s ears, pulling her back into the realm of consciousness.
She wanted to respond. Her spirit waned, failing to reach the Whispers and demand any explanation. Her lips moved and her lungs only pressed out a wheezing gust of air, attempting to warn Michael of listening to the Whispers.
Her signal fell upon deaf ears and a walled-off mind.
Another sharp spike of pain and a flash of light followed instead. The darkness encroached again as explosively, dragging her back under. The cosmic ocean’s surface distorted her vision of Michael above her, of his hand wielding magick to heal her, of the shot-up ranch house.
It was like being pulled deep down by the undertow.
When she next could see a face, it was no longer Michael’s. She sat in the leather chair in Doctor Wolff’s practice, surrounded by Gothic windows and extravagant paintings and bookshelves and ornate busts of ancient Greek philosophers and… a scene of pure carnage.
Another flash, another world, overlapping with the one in which her life was fading, and the one in which she drifted in the ocean of darkness between the stars.
Here, too, in the psychotherapist’s office, bullets had torn up furniture. Here, corpses lay strewn about, resting in the gore of an obliterated skull, and a human body torn in half by a shotgun blast, and a sea of blood, pooled beneath a man with a hundred stab wounds.
The face she saw was no Michael’s.
Nor was it her smiling mirror image in the Shadow, dripping with tar as it rose from a strange hole in a stranger Earth.
Nor was it Wells, nor Aria, nor anybody else she was familiar with.
Instead, she stared into the eyes of Jericho Kane. Glittering blue like crushed gemstones, they darted all over to scan Parker’s face in return, flitting about in complete confusion.
“How the fuck did she get here?” asked a vaguely familiar voice.
The woman in the track suit from the crime scene. The one who could teleport through windows and doors.
Her symmetrical face leaned into the way. Dark brown eyes and long dark hair obscured the vision of Jericho’s face. She, too, studied the helpless Parker closely.
“Beats me,” Jericho said. “But if this is our ticket out, I’m fuckin’ takin’ it.”
The two of them crowded around Parker and Jericho waved his hand in front of her eyes, as if to check her for consciousness.
“Yo, what is up with you?”
Parker’s lips parted to respond but she only eked out a croaking wheeze. A sharp pain in her belly almost dragged her off, and the entirety of Wolff’s practice shuddered. Quaked. The whole room shook, and spiderwebs of cracks started spreading across the walls with alarming speed.
Yelled the dark-haired woman, “Shit, what now?”
Jericho Kane gripped Parker’s shoulders. He shook her.
“You gotta get us outta here! Now!”
Parker swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut, like she used to do, growing up, to center herself whenever things became too much. Shutting down.
Maybe it would fuse all worlds together?
She coughed, and found blood on her hands when she groped her own belly. The wound was still there, and the practice still around them—its walls tilted inwards, groaning under the weight of a collapsing world. The window panes in the Gothic frames clicked and then cracked before exploding, showering them with a rain of broken glass, eliciting shrieks of surprise from the two other people in the room.
Parker finally managed to breathe out weak words, “I… want… I… don’t know… how.”
Huh? You say something, Mikey?
With the Shadow’s reply, the room quaked more violently.
A panic to mirror Michael’s now gripped Jericho, twisting his face in similar fashion. He shook Parker by the shoulders again. Karma gripped his shoulder in return.
“You—you tell Klemens Weidmann! The Way King!” Jericho shouted into her face, as if trying to reach a person hard of hearing. His face scrunched up when a hot gust of wind swept over them, and an unnatural howling filled the room. Yet Jericho continued. “Tell the Way King! Tell Klemens! It’s me, Jericho, we’re fuckin’ trapped here!”
Karma shouted at Jericho, “We gotta get the hell out of this room, dipshit! It’s fucking breaking apart!”
“We can’t—you fuckin’ psycho! We can’t just leave her here like this! Look at her!”
THOOM.
The room shuddered again and the ceiling dropped inches lower. The walls screeched and bricks exploded from shredded wallpaper, obliterating wood and glass and brass parts of furnishings, showering them all with more debris.
No light shone in through the cracks and the holes in those walls.
Only liquid darkness seeped out from the cracks. A tar emerged, bubbling and squelching and—
Oozing.
A viscous, awful mass now pumped and squeezed its way inside, pouring in through every seam and hole.
That wasn’t you, was it, Mikey? That was…
Booming laughter ripped through the void. It sent the cosmic ocean into turmoil. It caused the darkness around Parker’s vision to grow again, and it caused the vision of the shot-up ranch house to shimmer over everything like a third, ghostly layer.
The dark-haired woman grabbed both Jericho’s and Parker’s wrists before the ceiling collapsed on them.
That was the last thing Parker saw before the translucent vision solidified. Bright outlines of daylight reflected from every surface in Klemens’ home, and Michael’s face once more dominated Parker’s narrowed field of vision.
He smiled and a bead of sweat dripped from the tip of his nose, landing upon her lips to spread a salty taste of despair.
“Welcome back to the realm of the living,” Michael whispered.
Good job, Mikey. You’re the new MVP!
Anima mundi. All-connecting.
The dying old man on the other side of the room coughed, then wheezed.
Klemens Weidmann himself.
All connected in a marriage of worlds and souls. He coughed again. Parker was unable to speak. Her throat felt like sandpaper. On fire. Her vocal chords disobeyed.
“Where are Jericho and Karma?” asked the old man, feeble in volume, fighting to sit back up, and failing.
The homunculus that resembled Agent Parker sat by his side, resting his head on her lap.
“You need to stay calm till Michael heals you,” said the homunculus in Parker’s own voice. “It’s—your injury is severe.”
Parker felt no more fear over seeing her doppelganger. It seemed so harmless. So helpful.
The darkness returned, threatening to drag Parker back down into the depths. The shimmering surface, where stars glittered on the ocean of the cosmic sea, started taking shape again.
Her vision blurred.
Healed, yet still hovering on the brink of death.
Had Michael only done so little to save her life, or had it been so bad that he had to limit himself?
Parker understood too little of his magick. She knew nothing of the necromancer’s sacrifices made to fuel it, nor of the true extent of his power.
And the fog of darkness encroached further.
Easy, Mikey. Be cool. It’s probably tempting to gloat over the old man now, but you know better. You should…
Be cool.
Michael’s sigh sliced through the different worlds, cutting so deeply that it sent an anchor into the sea of Parker’s fading consciousness.
Her feeble spirit fingers wrapped around the silvery metal until they found purchase and she locked it into her grasp, keeping her sinking any deeper.
“They are trapped,” Michael said.
What is this? Why are you doing this now?
“What?” Klemens scoffed. The wizened old man stared past Michael as if the shot into his spine had not only paralyzed him from the waist down, but also robbed him of his eyesight. The old man’s lips quaked like the walls of Wolff’s practice in the otherworld. “What do you mean, boy?”
“They’re trapped,” Michael repeated, then with more resolve. He wiped the back of his hand across his face, smearing Parker’s blood across it like a crude war paint. “Your favorite proteges are lost in the House of Change, Klemens. I saw it all in a vision.”
“And you… you only tell me of this now? Why? Michael, what is the meaning of this?”
Michael smiled at Parker, seeking the light of life behind her fluttering eyelids. Banishing the encroaching darkness.
Why indeed, Mikey?
“This—this is the end, old friend,” Michael said, finally peeling his gaze from Parker to stare at Klemens as he cast his final verdicts. “I will now tell you, out of respect for all you have done for us, and this world, and all your good intentions. You deserve the truth.”
Klemens was not blind. His foggy gaze met Michael’s.
Maybe I spoke too soon about my MVP.
“You are old and going to die,” Michael continued. “And your kingdom will crumble with you. The king is dead, and long live the king!”
“And you, my boy, you fancy yourself a new king?” Klemens asked.
Smiling on his own. A strange smile.
Michael loomed above Parker like a statue. Majestic in his disheveled appearance, as still as a pillar.
“No, old friend. But I will give birth to a new world. The Shadow speaks, and I listen. Agent Parker’s consciousness swims at the edge of oblivion, and I will use this to finally locate the book. All according to plan. Well, minus me getting shot. And once I have the book—”
Are you that arrogant or just plain foolish? You really don’t need to tell him every single thing, Mikey.
Parker heard every Whisper. They no longer resembled the Whispers she had known. The Shadow spoke no riddles. It spoke to Michael with clarity. With authority.
It spoke with—
SUBSTANCE.
Klemens chuckled, cut short by a choke and a cough.
“So be it,” wheezed the old man. A feeble old hand patted the homunculus-Parker on her forearm. “Dear, please help me… bring me into the Heart.”
“Shit,” Michael hissed.
Does it matter? Just keep moving, Mikey. We’re close. Really close.
I can taste it. Tastes like vanilla milkshake.
Light shone through the bullet holes in the walls, where motes of dust danced. Light bulbs deeper inside the house crackled with electricity, responding to all these surges in unnatural power.
Another invisible light flashed.
A surge of strength shot through Parker’s limbs and forced a groan from her throat. The surge of energy crossed the boundaries of otherworlds and a fading consciousness and—
The same way she gripped that silvery anchor in the cosmic ocean, she gripped Michael’s wrist like an iron vice, causing him to jolt, and stare into her eyes.
The homunculus spoke with the same detached coolness as Agent Parker when it offered, “I can kill him. Right now.”
Klemens shook his head. “No, my dear. Your mission is one of peace, as we discussed. Please, now, take me back… into the Heart.”
The homunculus rose, lifting up and bracing Klemens to help him into the darker bowels of his home. To where the light bulbs glowed. To deliver him into the Heart of THE HIGHWAY. The clockwork machine at the center of all ley lines, the system controlling all systems. The dying heart of a withering world.
Michael stared at her, but he addressed Klemens.
“You won’t be able to do anything to stop me, even when you recover in there. I know a good retirement home, you know?”
Klemens chuckled again, though it bore no charm nor amusement.
Only pain.
“I won’t do anything to stop you,” said the old man. “My reign has crumbled. It is… like you said. All pot holes, and decay. Broken homes, and a broken country. I did all I could. Now, I leave things to you. I hope your brow is not crushed under the weight of the crown.”
Unable to walk thus, the homunculus hooked an arm under the gaunt old man’s legs and hoisted him up with a grunt. She carried him like a newlywed partner, right over the threshold, into the darkness of the corridor beyond.
“Goodbye, Agent Parker,” echoed the Way King’s weak voice through the ranch house halls, gaining distance with each strained step the homunculus took to carry him away. “A shame we never got to speak more…”
You’ve been listening all this time, haven’t you?
The Shadow was addressing her. Agent Parker.
Heard everything I was telling Mikey?
“I owe you nothing,” she finally managed to press out, followed by new waves of pain.
Her body refused to move.
Michael squinted, studying her face as she lay helpless in his arms. He cupped his hand around her cheek and supported her head with a firm grip.
“You are,” he began, then breaking it down into a whisper. “You are speaking to the Shadow, aren’t you?”
Well, this is new.
Parker’s nostrils flared. She took sharp breaths and gritted her teeth to stave off the new waves of pain washing over her belly region, spreading through her body like shockwaves.
The fog of darkness had not been dispelled entirely. It still lingered around the edges of her vision, and whispered like white noise from the fringes of her hearing. The tar-like SUBSTANCE crept up behind her like the Shadow, crawling from dark recesses in her mind, from where she had—
Let it in.
Just a polite request, followed by a polite answer. A simple ask in a game of low stakes. A hand extended in friendship, hiding its other faces. A talking cat in a dream, warning of danger, to conceal the true menace it represented.
You know, I can hear your thoughts, right?
I’ve been here all along.
“What are you, exactly?” Michael whispered, staring at Parker.
I am the future. And I am the thing that can snuff her out right here, right now. I doubt we need her any longer, Mikey. Seems to me you picked up the slack just fine.
Parker smiled. The first time in a while she had felt such a thing.
Schadenfreude.
What are you smiling about? You let me in. So I can just shut you down if I want to. It would be like flipping a light switch.
“Easy on the trigger finger,” Michael said. “We still need her. I still need her to get the book. Unless you want to find someone else to work with, I suggest you follow my lead on this one.”
Parker still smiled, now projecting her Schadenfreude at Michael. Convinced his endeavors were fated to fail.
Like her failing body, her fading sense of self, helpless in his arms, there was nothing she could do to realize his dreams, even if she wanted to.
But did she want to? Was all of this a mistake? Had everything been a mistake?
She knows it herself, Mikey. We don’t need her to use the book at all, you know? She was just in the right place at the right time. A string of coincidences. Nothing special about her.
She walked through the door you’re going to open, and she brought the book with her.
“Tell me where the book is,” Michael said. His eyes sparkled with wetness as he begged. “Please.”
Parker emitted a revolving, rasping sound. The closest thing to mocking laughter she could muster.
“I don’t know where it is,” she breathed. A shade of strength returned to her, and lent her words more vigor. A cold sense of superiority returned. “It wasn’t… me… it wasn’t me who walked through that door. It was the me from another world. So I couldn’t tell you, even if I wanted to. And I don’t.”
Like I said. Nothing special about her.
The wetness in Michael’s eyes intensified. Tears welled up in their corners. In contrast, his smile widened, and he wiped the tears away with the back of his hand, smearing more of Parker’s blood there, completing the death mask of his face painting.
He inhaled sharply.
Exhaled.
Then Michael chuckled.
The smile faded from Parker’s face.
In all her work at the FBI, she knew that kind of shift. That shining confidence. It shone through the fog of her fading consciousness, a brilliant and terrible light.
She had seen it when interrogating the serial killer Freddy Fletcher, and others like him.
A confident smile, looking down at her where he loomed, knowing he had won.
Michael said, “It’s wrong. So, so wrong. You… you are very special. Everybody in this world is special. Like I have visions, I see the special things in you… in all of you. All beautiful, even when you look like coal. Just add enough pressure, and… you turn into… diamonds.”
Oh, Mikey. When you’re done waxing poetic, can we get a move on? I think I see where this is headed.
Her face flushed with heat, and a fury flowed from her heart, a yearning to break free and rise up and fight back and—
Agent Parker found herself trapped in her own body. Awash with pain, paralyzed with—with magick? Had he done something to her beyond healing her lethal wound? She couldn’t even budge.
A helpless sack of meat in his bloodstained hands. He hadn’t even healed his own gunshot wound, but acted like someone in perfect health.
“You,” Michael said, ignoring the Shadow’s whispers. “I don’t need to add any pressure to you. You’re perfect. Perfect the way you are. And you’re all I need to find her—the other you. You’re a living effigy. Like the homunculi Klemens created in your image. Silver threads connect you all, and as it so happens, I am an oracle.”
He blinked away the tears, still smiling.
Confident over his victory.
“Man, I do kinda feel like gloating,” he rambled. “At least a little bit. But… it’s unbecoming.”
The world spun around her. Michael grunted as he lifted her up off the ground. The absence of the rug soaked in her own blood opened a cold spot on her back.
The warm breeze of desert wind swept over her burning cheeks. Michael kicked open the screen door, causing it to slap against the outer wall.
He grunted again with another sharp breath, readjusting his slipping grip against the slick of her blood, then carried Parker over the threshold to the world outside.
Into the bright light under a bright blue sky. Wind whistled through the husks of vehicles on the Way King’s ranch, this lonesome graveyard of cars. Gravel crunched underneath Michael’s boots. The world bounced in sync with Parker’s head bobbing upon every step.
A world upside down.
He carried her through the heat and past the creaking, whining metal of a rusting old gate, out into the dead fields behind the ranch house.
I understand now. Clever boy. We’re all connected through the same primordial soup. Didn’t realize that one of you good people could do the same thing I could.
The Shadow’s laughter reached Parker’s mind like cackling on the wind.
Michael carefully placed Parker in the dust of the dead field.
She gasped when another sharp sting of pain spread from her belly—where Michael had jammed his finger into the wound.
Riding the waves. Surf on, brother.
Her own blood dripped from his finger once he withdrew it.
He used it to paint occult symbols onto her forehead, then cheeks, then neck. Trapped inside her own body, she still burned with curiosity to learn what exactly those glyphs represented, blind to his workings, straining to catch a glimpse.
The smile had long faded from Michael’s face. A stern and stony expression had taken its place.
The world darkened—no longer through a fog of fading consciousness, as Parker now found herself painfully aware of her presence in this world—her world—helpless to Michael’s workings—as he lowered his palm upon her face, gently covering her eyes.
Thump.
A cloud of dust rose where Michael dropped into the dust beside her, joining her in the dirt. His callused, warm hand found hers, holding interlocking fingers with her like a lover.
They stared into the infinite blue sky above them.
“The oneiromancers of yore coined the term of astral travel. Now, as fate weds us, we travel together. We will see what awaits at the end of those silver threads, connecting you and her.”
You’re not going to like what you find. Neither of you, kiddos.
Another Shadowy cackle rode on the winds.
Where horizon kissed desert sands, blue melted into yellow. The burning sphere in the sky widened, turning everything bright white until it had engulfed all of creation.
“All I need is for you to accept this bond,” Michael said, a ghostly voice through the blinding white.
“Why would I… why would I?” Parker breathed.
“Because you want to know.”
“Know what?”
Hidden in the shambles of Klemens Weidmann’s ranch house, and the decrepit ruins of the chapel, the Shadow smiled as it watched.
As it listened.
“To know what lies beyond. Beyond every door. Beyond this world. You’ve always wanted to know, even as a little girl. But now, as a woman, you possess the vocabulary and the knowledge to ask the right questions,” Michael spoke in a dull monotone, with the relaxing calm of someone drifting off into slumber. Of something peaceful.
Something hypnotic.
“We are explorers. We burn bright, exploring the mysteries behind those doors. And together, we may open such a door, and shine light upon another great mystery.”
A gentle squeeze upon Parker’s hand.
“Do you accept this bond?”
The bright glare of the blue sky only lingered like a memory. Parker saw nothing but blinding light. For long, she pondered her reply. Her decision.
She mulled over every moment that had taken her here. Everything she had done and wanted.
Wells couldn’t help her now. Nor could Aria. She felt their distance like a hole in her heart.
Nobody could save her now. Nobody could stop Michael now.
But maybe she could. She herself.
Breathe. One, two, release.
Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity.
Hm. Interesting.
“I know you want to. All I await is your consent,” Michael breathed beside her, a disembodied voice in the unfathomable ocean of light.
Elicitation technique, first bullet point: pretend to have associations in common with them.
“I do.”
He smiled. Squeezed her hand again.
The infinite brightness exploded into a sea of glittering stars.
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baeaecha26 · 5 months ago
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Chapter 20: Learning the Power of Empathy
It was in the quiet of the late afternoon, as the sun dipped its weary head beneath the horizon and shades of the day began to fade like dying embers, that Kaipa found Ti praying in the crumbling chapel, beneath an archway that reached toward a sky bruised with storm clouds.
"Ti," Kaipa said softly, though his voice rang through the stillness of the hallowed place like cracked glass, "I never took you for a religious man."
Ti looked up, startled, and his hand, which had been resting reverently on a monument to some long-lost saint, seemed to quiver as though it, too, had been caught in a prayer it could not quite remember. "Kaipa," he murmured, the pain and beauty of his name twisted with the lingering prayers on his tongue. "I did not hear you come."
"You were absorbed," he replied, stepping hesitantly over a carpet of damp moss, his voice dulled with the weight of his thoughts. "And I felt that to interrupt your prayer would have been an imposition difficult to forgive."
Ti smiled weakly, his eyes still filled with the unfathomable distance that prayer seemed to invoke in all manner of soldiers caught between loyalty and duty, hope and despair. "I suppose I cannot fault you for your silence," he admitted, shifting his weight as though remembering the feel of armor upon his back. "And yet it seems that the quiet is a burden we must bear together."
Collapsing beside him on a worn pew, his fingers tracing the edges of a time-roughened psalm book, Kaipa looked at his companion with a newfound curiosity, a yearning to understand the soul that lay hidden behind his pale gray gaze. "Tell me, Ti," he whispered, seeking something that could not yet be named, "what do you pray for? When the sky is empty and the rain has washed away the memory of smoke and blood, what do you ask of the gods who seem deafened by our mortals' cries?"
His eyes met his, unflinching, as he searched for a truth lost at the edge of memory. "I pray," he said, his voice as raw and low as the distant grumble of the earth, "for the strength to bear the weight of my oaths. I hurl these prayers into the heavens without hearing, hoping the gods will grant me the courage to endure the pain of the lives I have ended and the wisdom to protect the lives I have promised to defend."
Kaipa let out a sigh that seemed to echo in the empty space of the abandoned chapel, his words drowned in the depths of his own unspoken fears. "Do you ever find yourself praying, however fleetingly, that this war might end? That the bloodshed might cease, and your hollow prayers be answered with tangible, unfair, painful peace?"
Ti hesitated, his throat catching on the jagged edges of his pride, before he allowed himself to yield to the terrible truth that lay buried beneath the unyielding folds of his uniform, his loyalties, the very truths he clung to with the desperation of a drowning man. "Once," he admitted his voice a tremulous whisper in the gathering gloom. "Once, I dared to dream of that impossible peace, that end to the endless suffering we have sown upon this land. And in that vision of horror, I saw myself."
"And what did you see?" Kaipa asked, his eyes locked on his as the oppressive weight of the storm-laden sky bore down on them both.
He shook his head, swallowing the bitterness of defeat, the dull ache of a broken spirit. "I saw myself a traitor; a coward, running from the very cause I had sacrificed everything for." He looked away, his face an echo of the torment that wracked his conscience. "I dare not pray for peace. Not even in the darkest hours of the night."
Kaipa reached out, his hand hovering delicately between them, uncertain whether to bridge the chasm between their opposing worlds. "Ti," he whispered, his voice trembling like a single pearl of rain on the cusp of falling, "I do not think you a coward. This war has torn us all to shreds, left us raw and questioning and vulnerable to the storm - even you, with your oaths and your honor."
His fingers finally brushed his own, warmth and cold mingling, as a single tear threatened to betray his own fragile resolve. "You see," he confessed, his voice barely a breath, "I, too, have prayed for that impossible peace. And in my despair, I found within myself a kindred soul; a soul willing to place hope in a world beyond the confines of our pain - and in your heart, as well."
The storm clouds finally broke, an onslaught of rain battering the roof, thunder roaring in the heavens like a vengeful god. And as the water spilled in through the shattered windows, filling the chapel with a renewed vitality, Ti's hand held tight to Kaipa's, forging a bond that could not be broken by any pledge, any loyalty, any decree of fate or bloody circumstance.
Together, linked by tears that would never fall, they prayed for the impossible peace they both had fought so long to deny - the whispered dreams of love and empathy, the prayers that would carry their hearts through the war-torn skies beyond the ruin of their world.
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dreamerstreamer · 4 years ago
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Lucky in Love
Pairing: poly!Dream Team x gn!reader
Summary: [Soulmate!AU] It’s one thing to meet your soulmate in a lottery, and another to have more than just one. But when you end up winning Dream’s Minecraft Manhunt raffle, you find your world turning upside down in ways you least expect.
Word Count: 9.9k
A/N: behold, my first commissioned story! this story has been altered from it’s original form so everyone can read it, but the majority of the plot and writing remain the same. i had a lot of fun writing it, and i hope you all like it! <3
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You stumbled into your bedroom with a yelp, your thumb flying across your phone screen to the home button and pressing gently. With a gleam, the time flashed back at you, and your eyes shot wide open.
You were going to be late.
Leaning forward on one leg, you pushed the door behind you shut with your foot, bouncing forward as soon as you heard it click shut. Your eyes swept across the room, your gaze catching on a swath of black cloth sitting at the foot of your bed. With a quirk of your lips, you tugged the shirt off the mattress before turning on your heel. Darting to the other side of the room, you easily settled back into your desk chair and let the shirt drop onto your thighs.
Grabbing your mouse, you moved your cursor to the YouTube bookmark at the top of your screen, your computer screen instantaneously flooding with light. You scrolled over to the left side of your screen, your mouse hovering over a familiar green icon before clicking, a new box popping into view.
Stream starting in 60... 59... 58... 57...
You felt your lungs tighten within your rib cage, your toes curling ever so slightly into the floor. It had been a nerve-wracking month of waiting and pacing, crossing each day off the calendar with an anxious grin. You almost couldn’t believe that the day had finally arrived. Letting out one last breath, you leaned forward, the t-shirt feeling heavy in your lap.
3... 2... 1...
All of a sudden, the screen went dark. Your reflection stared back at you from the dim screen, your excited eyes peering back at yourself with a curious glint. Reaching up, you brush an unkempt lock of hair away from your forehead, just in time for two familiar faces and a lime green icon to appear.
The Dream Team.
“Hey, guys!” Dream said, his voice sounding like a breath of fresh air. “How are you all doing?”
A flurry of hearts flew across the live chat screen, the lines moving by so quickly that you couldn’t tell when one message ended and another started. Practically bouncing in your seat, you couldn’t help the smile that skittered across your cheeks.
“Good,” you whispered aloud to yourself in the quiet of your room. You knew that they couldn’t hear you when you talked like that, that they wouldn’t know you had even replied at all, but it made their streams feel a little more lively nonetheless.
After a brief pause, Dream’s voice filtered through the air once more, just as bright and eager as it was earlier. “Good? I hope the answer is good.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart flipping in your chest as your fingers curled into the shirt in your lap. That sort of thing happened sometimes: a streamer would say something and your verbal response almost made it feel like they were actually holding a conversation, like they were actually with you right now. These sorts of things were always a coincidence, but when everything in your world was connected by fate, sometimes you let yourself be a little hopeful, let yourself imagine that maybe it wasn’t dumb luck—that maybe it actually meant something.
Hell, maybe it meant you could be soulmates.
Soulmates were a tricky thing to think about, really, even if everyone knew they existed and that one day, they would meet theirs. No one could pinpoint when exactly soulmates came to be, but no one rejected their presence either way. It wasn’t like they wanted to, anyways. To have a person who was perfect for you linked to you by the universe—it was no wonder people were more than pleased to discover they weren’t just some old lover’s tale.
But even then, some were skeptics. How would you really know when you had found your soulmate? What if you missed them by accident? For you at least, you already knew what it would feel like. You couldn’t count just how many times you had asked your mother that very question, but you could practically rattle off her words by heart.
“You’ll know exactly when it happens, I promise, sweetie,” she would murmur, stroking your head with a gentle hum and soft eyes. “When you first touch, it feels like... like you’ve been struck by lightning, and you’ll be tingly all over. Something inside you just sort of clicks when you look at them, and you’ll just—you’ll feel it right here.” She tapped her finger over your heart, a wistful expression settling across her face. “It’s... it’s magical, and you’ll never forget that feeling—not for the rest of your life.”
The smile that would tug on your mother’s lips made you all the more hopeful, a heavy yearning settling deep into the crevices of your heart as the years went by. Even now, as you sat watching Sapnap and George bicker with each other while Dream chimed in with a snarky remark, you felt that same fleeting hope rising up in your chest, warm and soft.
Maybe—just maybe—they might be your soulmates.
Not that they actually were, of course. You knew better than to get your hopes too high.
But as you watched Sapnap’s lean a little closer to his camera and listened to George’s breathy laugh, you felt your heart swell the tiniest bit.
Connected by fate or not, these boys were special to you, even if you had never met.
Sapnap blinked as his eyes darted across his monitor, raising his eyebrows with surprise as he let out a short whistle. “Oh, wow, we’re pulling... holy crap—over seven hundred thousand viewers, right now.” You could vaguely hear the scrolling of his mouse, his lips twitching. “Everyone sounds so excited in chat, too.”
George’s eyebrow quirked. “I mean, of course they are. Manhunts are loads of fun—who wouldn’t want to be a part of them?”
Sapnap’s face split into a teasing grin, and he leaned back in his chair. “Ooh, you sure sound cocky, George.”
George blinked once, then scowled. “Wha—shut up, it’s true! Why else would there be so many people here?”
A devilish gleam flickered across Sapnap’s gaze. “To see your pretty face, maybe.”
George’s frown deepened, his eyebrows knitting together into a glower. “Sapnap, you—”
“Look, look,” he cried, wagging his finger at his monitor, “even chat agrees!” His lips curled up into a smirk, mischievous and amused all at once. “You’re not gonna say chat is wrong, are you, Gogy?”
You could have sworn a hint of rose flushed across George’s cheeks as he averted his gaze from his camera, his voice coming out softer than before. “W-Well, I—”
“Boys, boys,” Dream suddenly cut in, George’s words trailing off in an instant. Despite the firmness of his words, there was an amused lilt to his tone, the smile evident in his voice. “You’re both pretty, alright, but can we please move on? I bet everyone’s dying to know who won.”
George opened his mouth, then let out a sigh, shaking his head with a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “You know what, Dream’s right. Let’s move on.”
Sapnap snickered on his side of the screen, still grinning widely. “You just can’t handle the truth.”
George groaned, deadpanning into the camera. “We are not starting this, again.”
Sapnap smiled, but didn’t get to speak before Dream cut him off. “You’re right,” he said, sounding a tad more hurried than before, “we’re not, because I’ve got the results, right here.”
You suddenly sat up, your heart stuttering. That same spark of hope fluttered up between your lungs, and you found yourself shuffling your chair forward, squinting in anticipation. Curiosity quivered around the edges of your mind, a certain eagerness pawing at your side as you watched a white pop-up fill the stream.
Everybody had an equal chance of winning—you knew that. That everyone may include you, but it also included every other person who bought one of those shirts. It didn’t take a genius to know that you weren't going to win. After all, not everything was guaranteed like having a soulmate was.
“And,” Dream began, dramatic and slow, “our winner is...”
You squeezed your hands, clasping your palms together with a feeling you couldn’t quite name.
“...shirt number 267815!”
You blinked, your brows furrowing together. That number sounded... oddly familiar. Your eyes flickered down to the shirt in your lap, the white tag peeking back up at you.
It couldn’t be.
All of a sudden, Dream’s voice rang through the air once more, sounding even clearer than ever before.
“Oh, and the name connected to the shirt is... [Y/N]!”
Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest, your eyes shooting wide open as your jaw dropped.
I... won?
You gaped at your screen, only half-registering the sight of Sapnap and George clapping. The chat had become a blur of words you couldn’t bring yourself to read, your vision growing hazy and unfocused with shock. I must look crazy right now, you thought to yourself distantly, rubbing at your face. This can’t be real.
George’s gaze locked directly onto the camera, and for a second, it almost felt like he was speaking directly to you. “Congratulations, [Y/N]!” He wrinkled his nose with an apologetic smile. “I hope I’m saying that, right. If I’m wrong, please tell me.”
Sapnap chuckled, shooting him a devious grin. “Knowing George, he’s probably wrong.”
Your lips twitched at the frown that flitted across George’s face before Dream took over again. “Ignore them—they’re being dumb.” Before either of them could protest, he quickly added, “Anyways, welcome to Minecraft Manhunt! We’re looking forward to meeting you. We’ll send you an email soon, and you can give us some more info there.”
You nodded at your monitor, your lips still parted in surprise. “We’ll be ending the stream now,” Dream continued, “but thanks so much for everyone else who participated. Your love and support mean the world to us!”
You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, and it sent a rush of warmth shooting down your spine. “[Y/N],” he murmured, suddenly sounding soft, “we’ll see you soon.”
As George and Sapnap waved one last time at their cameras with excited grins, you swallowed. Your heart rattled in your chest as the screen faded back to black, and you found yourself sitting face-to-face with your reflection once more.
You were right—you looked just as dumbfounded as you felt.
Slowly, you closed your mouth, lowering your gaze to the shirt in your lap. The axe that was laid out across your thighs somehow seemed brighter than it did before, almost as if someone had painted over it with a newer, shinier layer of white.
Lifting the shirt to your chest, you felt a wide grin tug at your lips—wider than any grin you had ever smiled before.
Maybe you were luckier than you thought.
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Your finger hovered over the left button of your mouse, your breaths coming out shaky and short as they pumped through your lungs. The Discord call already had three icons waiting for you, and all you had to do was click to join them.
Breathe, [Y/N]. You’re only about to talk to three of your favourite content creators on the planet. It’ll be easy.
You paused, listening to the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’m not fooling anyone.
A groan rose in the back of your throat, and you hung your head in your hands for a long moment. “C’mon,” you whispered to yourself. “You can’t keep them waiting forever.”
You sucked on the inside of your cheek, then lifted your head, nodding once, then twice. Yes, okay—calm. I can be calm. Your finger twitched. Let’s do this.
Your hand reached back for your mouse, the cool plastic melding against your skin as your cursor hovered back over the call. Squeezing your eyes shut for just a second, you let your finger press down, a familiar ping echoing through your headphones. There was a beat of silence. Then, someone spoke.
“Hi! Hello!”
You jumped at that sound of Dream’s voice, your heart skipping a beat as you quickly reoriented yourself again. “H-Hi, there,” you said as calmly as you could muster.
“It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]! I’m Dream.” There was a slight pause, then he added hesitantly, “Did I say that right, by the way? Your name, I mean.”
Your lips curled up into a smile, and you felt the tension seep out of your shoulders. “Yes, you got it right.”
You could almost imagine him grinning to himself triumphantly. “Perfect.”
A new voice suddenly jumped in, just as eager as Dream’s. “Don’t steal the spotlight already, Dream,” Sapnap whined, his icon flashing green. “There’s three of us, not just you.” Ignoring Dream’s quiet apology, he quickly moved on. “I’m Sapnap—it’s great to have you here.”
“And I’m George,” another voice added, his prominent accent sounding like honey in your ears.
Every ounce of anxiety you had been feeling earlier felt so far away now, their voices carrying your worries off over the horizon. “It’s nice to meet you all, too. My name’s [Y/N], but you already know who I am, don’t you?”
“Well,” George said, drawing out the vowel, “we may know a few things about you, but we don’t really know who you are—that’s something we want to hear from you.”
Sapnap made a noise of confirmation, his mouth moving at lightning speed as he suddenly began to fire off question after question. “Yeah, like, what’s your favourite flower? Or season? Which one of us do you think is the most handsome? Ooh, what about—”
“Woah, woah,” Dream cut in, wheezing ever so slightly, “one thing at a time, to start. Let them breathe, at least!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the hints of laughter tinting his voice. “It’s okay!” you said, your lips splitting into a crooked grin. “Although I don’t know if I can answer those questions.”
George let out a confused noise. “No? Why not?”
You hummed, swinging your legs around your chair. “Like for my favourite flower, I think they’re all really pretty and look nice, in their own little ways. Same thing for seasons.” You chuckled. “I’m too indecisive to pick just one.”
“But who do you think is the most handsome out of the three of us?” Sapnap prodded, excitement seeping into his tone. “It’s definitely me, right? Come on.”
“Hey,” George suddenly quipped, rushing through his words, “no flirting yet! We only just met!”
There was a brief second of silence. “I mean, isn’t that technically the best time to start flirting?”
“Sapnap.”
“Fine,” Sapnap sighed. You could practically hear him roll his eyes. “Friends first, flirting later.” You were about to breathe a sigh of relief when he added, “Carry on, though. I still want to hear your answer.”
Chewing on your lip, you stiffened, drumming your fingers against the side of your keyboard. “I’m telling you,” you sighed after a long moment, “I really don’t think I can pick. As a matter of fact,” you pointed out, raising a finger. “I don’t even know what one of you looks like.”
Now, it was Dream’s turn to speak up. “Then, talk about attractiveness, in general. It doesn’t just have to be about looks.”
You froze, your posture going rigid. Attractiveness in general…?
How could you possibly encapsulate their attractiveness just like that? Dream was so incredibly clever, and you loved to hear him talk about his passions. George was smarter than he let on, and you could see it in the way he coded their videos, working relentlessly to make them work. Sapnap was beyond affectionate, and just hearing him share his affection with those around him made your stomach melt. They were just handing you a recipe for disaster with a question like this, you knew it.
“This question is impossible,” you blurted, a gentle panic seeping into your tone. Narrowing your eyes, you leaned closer to your mic, adding with a teasing lilt, “Are you trying to torture me?”
“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t,” Dream hummed, chuckling at the small whine that escaped your lips. “Either way, it’s cute to hear you struggle.”
Your breath suddenly hitched in your throat, but Sapnap was quick to leap forward. “Hey, what did we say about no flirting?”
Another beat of silence. “Killjoy.”
“Okay, moving on from that,” George said, quickly diverting topics, “how are you feeling, [Y/N]? Are you looking forward to the manhunt?”
You looked back at the call, your eyes locking onto the three Discord icons sitting next to your own. “Yes,” you admitted, “but I’m also very, very nervous.”
“Nervous?” Dream repeated slowly.
“Nervous,” you said again, “but a good kind of nervous.” You opened your mouth, then closed it. “Actually, I think excited is a better word to use. You guys always just seem like you have so much fun when you’re around each other, and I’m just...” You waved your hands in front of yourself, feeling your heart beat faster and faster while your face grew hot once more. “I’m just really excited to film with you all and play Minecraft together.”
Silence washed over the call, and your cheeks felt like they were about to burn right off your face. “Sorry,” you mumbled embarrassedly. “That—that probably sounds really dumb.”
“It doesn’t,” Sapnap said suddenly, making your gaze grow wide, “not at all.”
“Yeah,” George added with a joyful hum. “I dunno about those two, but I’m also excited to play with you, [Y/N].”
Dream guffawed, a scoff escaping his lips. “What do you mean you don’t know about us? Of course we’re excited! [Y/N] is great!”
You nearly fell out of your chair. “H-Huh?”
Dream’s voice was suddenly soft again, both parts soothing and cheerful all at once. “We might have only known each other for a little while, but I’m telling you, we’re beyond happy to have you here, and we want you to have a good time, too.”
“Oh, a thousand percent,” George said straight-facedly into his mic. “I’d trade you for both of these nerds in a heartbeat.”
Just like that, Sapnap was yelling as you heard Dream smack his desk. “George, what?! How could you say that?”
Giggling, you sank into your desk chair with a relieved smile, pressing a hand over your eager heart. “Thank you,” you murmured, only hoping they could hear the sincerity in your words. “I hope I don’t let you guys down.”
Their raucous bickering suddenly died down at the softness in your tone, and three voices spoke at the same time—each one sounding more honest than the last.
“You could never.”
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You leaned forward in your desk chair, your eyes glued to your screen as you watched Dream’s avatar stand as still as a rock, frozen and entirely unmoving. Your finger hovered over your W key, waiting for the perfect moment to strike as your tongue darted out to flick over your bottom lip.
Manhunts may be stressful, but you were more than ready to tackle this one headfirst.
It happened so quickly that you nearly missed it. In one moment, Dream was standing in front of you, stock still as you stared him down. In the next, he was darting off in the opposite direction, already a whopping ten blocks away.
Sapnap’s voice shot through your headset like a bullet as he shouted, “After him!”
He didn’t need to say it again before the group was already dashing across the grassy field, boosting each other forward every other block. You clicked frantically at George’s backside, your lips twitching in glee as he shot the slightest bit closer to Dream. With each passing second, they ran further and further, Dream lying just a few steps out of reach. All of a sudden, he leapt off the side of a cliff, vanishing from sight in an instant. Coming to a screeching halt atop the hill, you watched as Bad peered over the forest, Sapnap and George hot on his heels.
“Where’d he go?” George muttered, confusion clouding his voice.
You shifted your mouse left and right as your gaze darted across your screen, scanning every pixel for even the tiniest hint of neon green. Just then, a gasp flew from your lips, and you caught Sapnap jolting in your direction at the sound.
“Look!” you cried, clicking to point over at the greenery. “He’s on the right—on top of the trees!”
Without missing a beat, everyone was leaping off the hill and barreling across the trees, ignoring their fall damage as they jumped over small gaps. “What is he,” George grumbled under his breath, “a monkey?”
You let out a tiny giggle at the genuine annoyance in his tone, but didn’t stop chasing after Dream’s running figure. Suddenly, he just barely missed his jump, bouncing twice on the same leaf block. He had only stalled for a brief second, but that was more than enough time for you to spam click your mouse. In a flash, Dream was tumbling off the tree, with you trailing right after him.
“I hit him off!” you shouted in glee, elation making every one of your syllables soar in your throat. “He’s on the ground.”
“Nice one, [Y/N]!” Sapnap chuckled with delight. “Now, don’t let him get away!”
The praise made the triumphant feeling that had unfurled beneath your ribs spread even farther under your skin, warming you from head to toe. Pushing forward, you nodded and slammed your thumb down on your space bar.
You had no plans of letting him escape.
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You pulled your water bottle from your lips with a gasp, quickly screwing the cap back on before setting it down on your desk. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you turned back to your monitor, your gaze focused on the anvil a few blocks away. To your left sat the portal, and to your right was a wall of obsidian.
You were four hours into filming now, but you still weren't tired. How could you be, when you were so close to the end?
Clicking on the anvil, you dragged the diamond axe in your inventory into the first slot before reaching for the enchanted book sitting just beside it. Forty-two levels—you would need forty-two levels to enchant your axe with Sharpness IV.
You glanced down at the space above your hotbar and grinned.
Luckily for you, you had forty-three.
Clicking once more, clanging echoed through your ears, and you placed your newly enchanted axe in your hotbar with a proud smile. It was an absolute pain having to kill as many mobs and loot as many desert temples as you did, but for this, it was absolutely worth it. Now, it was time for the rest of the plan.
“I have no idea how you came up with this,” George said earnestly, his character facing yours, “but I love it.”
You grinned, opening up your inventory and removing your amour. “I just got really, really lucky.”
Grabbing an invisibility potion, you suddenly paused, a hint of uneasiness sinking in your gut. If Dream noticed any particles, you would be dead in an instant, and your plan would be blown to smithereens. You would have to move quickly to make it work—almost ridiculously quickly.
Swallowing, you opened your mouth. “Do you guys think we can really pull this thing off?”
Sapnap let out an easygoing chuckle, your shoulders relaxing in an instant. “Oh, I know we can.”
Letting Sapnap’s confidence run through you, you held down your mouse’s right key, downing the invisibility potion in one go before turning to rush out of the portal room. Through your headphones, you heard Dream let out an inquisitive hum, curiosity flickering through his tone. “Just what are you guys up to?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Sapnap fired back without missing a beat, his voice swimming with mischief.
While George let out a wheeze and you giggled at Sapnap’s sharp quip, Dream sighed, muttering, “So much for asking.”
Huffing out one last quiet laugh, the smile fell from your face, your eyes narrowing as your expression grew serious. You moved ever so carefully through the stronghold, weaving in and out of the labyrinthine halls like a snake on the hunt. Your gaze darted back and forth between the compass in your hotbar and your screen. With each sharp swing of the compass hand, you held your breath, turning until it was pointed forward again. You had been searching for a few minutes when suddenly, you spotted it.
A glimpse of green.
Dressed head to toe in enchanted iron armour, Dream’s avatar stood in front of a wall of furnaces, smelting away as he turned from one to the next. On the same wall was a crafting table and a chest. He was planning something, you just knew it, but you didn’t have the time to question what. After all, he was facing the wall opposite from you, completely unaware of your presence.
This was the perfect chance, and you weren’t going to waste it worrying.
Creeping forward, you stopped only when you stood just a single block away from him, switching from your empty hand to the enchanted diamond axe in your hotbar. With Sharpness IV, it would only take three critical hits for you to take him down.
For a second, all was still.
Then, you were pressing down on your space bar and clicking your mouse a half second later, watching with bated breath as Dream’s avatar twitched from your attack. One.
He had barely managed to turn around before you had already landed another hit on him. Two.
By the time he had pulled out his own axe and began scanning the seemingly empty air in front of him, you were slamming your finger down one last time. Three.
With a shout, Dream dropped dead before you, his inventory exploding into a mess on the floor at your feet. You blinked once. Twice.
Then, the call burst into a mess of screams and shouts.
Dream’s yell rang through your ears as George and Sapnap hooted in delight, Bad and Antfrost following with their own victory cheers. “What the heck?!” he cried, shock filling his every word. “[Y/N], was that you? Oh my god, where did you even come from?”
Practically gasping for breath, you nearly collapsed on top of your keyboard, the adrenaline slowly wearing off as you smiled triumphantly to yourself. “[Y/N], you did it!” Sapnap shouted, just as loud as before. “You—you just—holy crap!”
“I was so stressed,” you breathed, sagging against the back of your chair with a breathless laugh. “You have no idea.”
“You were awesome, so awesome,” George managed between giggles, his own voice sounding giddy and positively overjoyed. “I knew you could do it.”
Your cheeks half-felt like they were about to start hurting from how hard you were smiling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Dream’s tired laugh filled your ears.
“Congratulations, [Y/N],” he murmured fondly. “You won.”
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Just a week and a half later, you couldn’t believe your eyes as you scrolled through the comments section of the new video.
[y/n] was so funny omg
They made this manhunt feel so much more special
Their chemistry as a group was so good wtf!!!??!
please bring [y/n] back I am in LOVE
[Y/N] SUPREMACY
With each new comment you scrolled past, you felt your heart swell more and more in your chest with a mixture of joy and pride. You didn’t expect people to respond so positively to the video—to you.
You had barely made even a dent in the hordes of comments about you when a Discord notification popped up on your laptop screen. In a flash, you were pulling up Discord, quickly clicking on the appropriately named group chat, [Y/N] KILLED DREAM!!
Sapnap: hey
Sapnap: hey
Sapnap: hey did you read the comments
[Y/N]: i did! people were so positive!!
[Y/N]: i wasn’t expecting it
George: You weren’t?
You furrowed your brows, reading George’s question twice before typing once again.
[Y/N]: of course not??? i’m just some person
[Y/N]: you guys are the dream team
George: Don’t put yourself down like that
Sapnap: yeah everyone liked the video because they liked you
Dream: well then
Dream: how do you feel about coming back to film again?
You stared at your screen in awe, something hopeful and weightless rising in the expanse of your chest. Filming another video? With them?
You didn’t even have to think before your fingers were typing out a response.
[Y/N]: i would love to
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Peals of laughter tumbled from your lips as you rolled over on your bed, your phone perched beside your head on your pillow. A split second later, a loud whine echoed from your phone speaker, and you found yourself laughing even harder, your lungs gasping harder and harder for breath with each giggle that was pulled from your throat.
Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed that you would be here.
It had been nearly a year since the fateful day that brought you and the Dream Team together and a little over ten months since you had first filmed together. Now, three videos and countless streams later, you were closer than ever before, cracking jokes and pushing each other’s buttons like you had known each other their whole lives—maybe even longer than that. It took some prodding, but you even called Dream by his real name, now. As much as you liked the name Dream, Clay sounded much nicer, in your opinion. Texting daily was practically a sacred ritual now, and you couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t get spammed by their texts at least four times a week. Even now, as you lay on your bed with your phone connected to Discord at your side, you were chatting with them, grinning as wide as ever. It was a comfortably pleasant lull you had fallen into, the four of you—one that you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life sinking into.
It was comfortable indeed, but even as complete as you felt now, you felt like there was something missing—like there was a hollow cavern in your chest just waiting to be filled.
Yet another shout suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts, the noise sounding even more astounded than it had before. “How was I supposed to know that that was Russia?”
The sheer amount of shock in George’s voice immediately made you burst into another fit of giggles, throwing your head back. “There was Russian on the sign!” you managed between breaths. “It was so obvious!”
He sputtered at the sound of your laughter, sounding absolutely appalled by your reaction. “You can’t just expect me to be able to read Russian!”
You grinned, your voice dropping the tiniest fraction. “You act as if you don’t know how to say a few things in Russian.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, Sapnap whistled. “Touché, [Y/N]. You’ve got him there.”
While George groaned, surely smacking his palm into his forehead, Clay spoke up with a teasing hum. “You should play some GeoGuessr with us more often. You’re way better at this than George.”
“This is bullying,” came a distant complaint from George, his voice coming out muffled through his mic.
“It’s the truth,” you corrected with a cheeky grin. “You cannot deny that.”
There came a snort, followed by Sapnap’s gentle laugh. “Look at you, [Y/N], being so mean all of a sudden.”
You smiled lopsidedly, trying to push back the shiver that ran down your spine at the way his low voice made your insides melt. “You know you guys love it.”
“We do.” Clay’s voice almost sounded far away, muffled and hazy. “We really, really do.”
Your heart leapt into your throat as a soft silence washed over the four of you, your chuckles dying down and fading into the quietness of your bedroom. Sighing deeply, you picked at your nail, silently begging your heart to calm down again. It was right then when George softly piped up.
“Hey, [Y/N],” he said quietly. When you let out a small noise, he continued. “We… you would call us close to you, right?”
You laughed at the hesitancy in his tone. For a second, he almost sounded shy, and it sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. “Do you even have to ask? We’ve been friends for months—of course we are!”
You could make out the faint sound of shuffling from Clay’s end, his icon flashing green. “Are—” He coughed. “Does that mean we’re close enough to ask you a… somewhat private question?”
You raised an eyebrow at his tone, your curiosity piquing. “Go for it,” you said gently, letting your eyelids flutter comfortably shut.
“Have you met your soulmate yet?”
In an instant, your eyes shot wide open again, and you lay frozen in your bed. In all the time you had known each other, not once had you brought up the topic of soulmates. It was almost as though you had simply skirted around it, too shy to press on about. But right now, with the topic lying right in front of your face, you couldn’t just avoid the topic.
Your fingers twitched as your mouth fell open. “N-No,” you stammered, the butterflies in your stomach going oddly still. “I, um, I haven’t. Have any of you?”
There was a pause. “No, none of us.”
You thought for a moment, your heart mulling over those four little words. Then, you exhaled and let your shoulders relax against the mattress, your nails curling into your palm. “I’m sure you guys have nothing to worry about,” you murmured almost hazily. “There are probably thousands and thousands of people who would love to be any one of your soulmates.” You chuckled, but it tasted bittersweet on your tongue. “Heck, there’s probably at least half a million fans who would be dying to take my place, right now.”
On the other end of the line, you were met with silence, but it was fleeting. “What about you?” Clay suddenly asked.
You blinked, your palm going slack. “Me?”
“You,” Clay affirmed, sounding more serious than before. “If you were one of our soulmates, how would you feel?”
The words left your lips before you could stop them. “Happy,” you blurted, suddenly feeling breathless. “So, so happy. I—”
You suddenly slapped your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off with wide eyes. Realization struck you like a lightning bolt, and you could feel your blood run cold in your neck. I did not just say that.
“What—” George stopped. Then, a second later, he continued. “Which one of us would you want it to be? To be your soulmate?”
With trembling fingers, you moved your hand away from your mouth, your voice coming out small. “Are you asking me who I like most?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
You almost felt your heart drop, bolting upright until you were sitting atop your sheets. Wrapping your hand around your phone, you balanced it on your lap, uncertainty springing up in your gut.
Who... I like most?
Dream, George, and Sapnap. Sapnap, Dream, and George.
To think that just a year ago, you had never spoken to them—had only ever known them as three strangers through a screen. Yet here you were now, their voices soft against your ear and your heart aching at the sound of their laughter. They made you smile beyond belief, and you wouldn’t miss a call with them for the world, even if it was three in the morning and you were dead asleep. Although you had spent time with each of them individually, just as friends did, you loved spending time with all three of them together far more, and you didn’t want to imagine having them any other way.
George, Sapnap, and Dream.
Who did you like most?
You swallowed, then opened your mouth. “I,” you choked out, “I don’t—I wouldn’t—”
You stopped, your heart pounding like a drum between your lungs. You could feel them waiting for you, as patient and caring as ever. The thought made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Screwing your eyes shut, you sucked in a deep breath and whispered.
“I don’t think I could ever pick just one of you.”
The silence that filled the air as you closed your mouth was tense. A million unspoken words ricocheted off the insides of your mind, your heart racing within the confines of your chest. The air suddenly felt too hot, and you kicked the covers off your legs, curling your knees closer to your chest and resting your burning cheeks on top of them.
“Maybe this is a sudden thing to say,” Sapnap whispered abruptly, his words coming out slurred as he broke the silence, “but I really, really want to know what you look like right now, [Y/N].”
You felt your arms go limp around your legs. “Me, too,” George added, thoughtful and faint. “I bet you’re beautiful.”
Resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands, you ran your finger along the edge of your phone screen, the glass pressing against your hot skin. “I—um,” you began shakily, “you’ll see when we meet, okay? This way, two of us can stay a mystery.”
Clay’s soft chuckle rippled through your bedroom once more, bouncing off the walls and making your chest ache even more. “Alright.”
You felt your chest constrict with heat, feeling like you were almost about to burst at the seams from the way they were speaking. “W-Well,” you laughed, trying not to sound as panicked as you felt, “on that note, I think I’m gonna go to sleep now.” You opened your mouth to continue when a yawn cut you off, eliciting a string of laughs from your phone speaker. “I’m feeling pretty tired.”
“Sweet dreams, [Y/N],” George murmured tenderly. “Talk to you tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” you confirmed with your heart battering against your ribs. “Goodnight!”
Reaching over, you pressed your thumb over your phone screen, exiting the call just as swiftly as you had joined. That had been hours ago now, and while you were tired, you couldn’t shake the churning sensation in the pit of your stomach—twisting and turning as you laid back on your bed. You slipped your phone onto your nightstand, plugging it in in a forlorn haze before lying back once more. Staring up at the lonesome ceiling, you frowned, your heart suddenly feeling like an anchor in your chest.
Without even an inch of doubt, you knew: you liked them—all three of them.
And it was going to be the end of you.
Having a crush was a dangerous thing in a world full of soulmates, especially if they were online—even more so if you had multiple. You could only ever find out if someone was your soulmate if you met them in person, and you had heard far too many stories of couples meeting in person, only to learn that they weren’t fated to be. Combining that with multiple soulmate bonds slimmed the chances even further. Multiple soulmate bonds weren’t exactly unheard of, but they were rare. You had never met anyone who had one, and you doubted that you would be the first you’d know to have one.
You suddenly felt it—that familiar spark of hope you felt all those months ago when you sat at your desk chair with a shirt on your lap. The hope that drew you to them now was the very same hope that connected you in the first place. Your heart leapt, lapping up every last droplet like a man dying of thirst, yet with each new spark that rained down in your chest, the thought clawing at the back of your mind loomed larger and larger.
Just what exactly were the chances all four of you would be soulmates? It had to be next to nothing if it wasn’t zero already.
This wasn’t like the manhunt raffle—lady luck could only be so generous.
Rolling onto your side, you felt something deep inside you reach its hands up and wrap around your lungs, squeezing as tightly as it could. The ache that shot through your insides stung like a hot coal, but you knew there was nothing you could do to soothe its hungry flames. Unshed tears pricked the back of your eyelids like silver needles, and you squeezed your eyes shut, choking back a muffled whine. Your bedroom suddenly felt too big, your bed too empty.
Hope could be beautiful, but it could also destroy you from the inside out.
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“Do not leave the call.”
Clay’s chuckle sent a frown skittering across your face, and you let out a small whine as you leaned forward in your desk chair. “Aww,” he crooned, teasing and light, “are you jealous, Georgie?”
“N-No, what?” George sputtered, and you could almost envision the way his cheeks would flush a pretty shade of baby pink. “Just—just don’t hang up.”
“I’m telling you,” Sapnap laughed with a sly lilt, his voice sounding a little more distant than Clay’s, “he’s jealous.” You vaguely could make out the sound of his signal light from inside his car, a muffled car horn echoing from outside. “Or at least if he isn’t, [Y/N] is.”
At that, you whipped your head up, blinking wide as you shot a glare at Sapnap’s Discord icon on the side of your monitor screen. “Well, [Y/N]?” Clay drawled, a flicker of mischief dancing in his tone. “What do you have to say about that?”
You curled your fingers into your hands, a small pout settling onto your features as heat shot across your face. “I—I am!” you said, your voice coming out a fraction louder than you intended. When the other line went quiet, you shuffled back in your seat, your cheeks burning even hotter. “I am jealous, okay? It’s... it’s just not fair that you two get to meet before we do.”
There was a brief moment of silence. You were being childish, you knew, but at least you were being honest. Suddenly, Clay spoke. “We know, sweetheart,” he said gently, not at all realizing how your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. “But you’ll be able to meet us soon. Just wait a bit longer, okay? I’ll buy you both plane tickets if I have to.”
You pouted with a dejected whimper, your finger drawing small circles onto the side of your desk. “Okay.”
“Don’t sound so sad,” Sapnap chuckled with a soothing coo. “As soon as we can get you two over here, we will.”
You let out a sigh, swinging your chair from side to side with a frown. Was it so wrong of you to want to meet them so badly, to want to see them and hug them? Part of you didn’t even care if you were all soulmates at this point—you just wanted to hear them laugh in person. You wanted to make them smile. Was that really so much to ask for?
“I see him!” Clay suddenly shouted. Your head shot up faster than a bullet, and you heard the sound of a front door opening and slamming shut. “Oh, Sapnap.”
“Oh, Dream,” Sapnap called mockingly, his smile shining through in his voice. There was the sound of the car engine stopping, then a car door swinging open. “Holy crap, you’re way taller than I expected.”
You chuckled at the surprise in Sapnap’s voice, hearing George laugh along with you. “Jeez,” Clay muttered, his voice overlapping ever so slightly with the mic on Sapnap’s phone. “It’s so weird actually seeing you in person, oh my go—”
All of a sudden, Clay went silent, cutting himself off with a strangled noise of surprise. On Sapnap’s end, there was a muffled choking sound, then nothing. In a flash, you were upright, your eyes wide and your hand flying to your mouse.
“Sapnap?” George called, his tone soaked with worry. “Clay? Are you two alright?”
There came a gasp, and you could make out the sound of Sapnap struggling to search for words. “You’re—Clay’s my—”
Just like that, it clicked, like a switch had been flipped inside you. You felt something in your chest deflate, and you opened your mouth.
“Soulmates,” you whispered so quietly that you would have missed it yourself, had you not been the one to say it. “You two are soulmates, aren’t you?”
George fell silent. “I think so,” Clay mumbled, his tone coming out as if he were in a daze. “I’ve never felt anything like that before in my life—it definitely feels like what everyone says, you know? Just, really warm, and.... and...” He trailed off, ending with an enamoured sigh. “Yeah.”
Your mouth felt as though it had been sewn shut, like you wouldn’t have been able to force the words from your lips even if you tried. “How did we not know after all these years?” Sapnap giggled, his voice swimming in a mixture of disbelief and affection.
“We’ve never met in person up until now,” Clay mused, his sentence rising at the end. “This is the first time we’ve ever seen each other, let alone touched.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Sapnap murmured back wistfully. The call suddenly went quiet, and a deep, disappointed quiet fell over the four of you. Not a word was said as the harsh reality slowly settled into your hearts.
Clay and Sapnap were soulmates.
Only Clay and Sapnap.
“I’m happy for you two!” George suddenly shouted, startling you in your chair. He sounded oddly chipper—too chipper. “I wish—” He suddenly choked, pausing for a moment to catch his breath again. “I wish I was already friends with my soulmate. Meeting new people is hard.”
“Who knows?” Clay chuckled. His words were teasing, but even they couldn’t mask how crestfallen he sounded. “Maybe [Y/N] is yours.”
“Yeah,” Sapnap hummed in agreement, the hopefulness in his voice sounding just as forced as his soulmate’s. “You hear that, [Y/N]? Maybe you and Gogy were meant to be.”
Your vision was hazy and unfocused, your gaze focused on the window in your room. In the corner of the glass was a small spider web, just barely the size of your palm. You watched with blurry eyes as a fly caught in the sticky web beat its wings in desperation, struggling helplessly as a spider crawled out from behind the windowsill. You distantly wondered how trapped that fly felt—if it knew that there was no point in hoping for anything better, now.
Turning away from the window, you focused your gaze down at yourself, down at the black shirt you were wearing. A clean white axe stared back up at you, and you felt a bittersweet smile stretch across your face as you uttered a single word.
“Maybe.”
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A loud beep echoed from the ceiling speakers, and you jumped at the sound. All around you, people were bustling in and out of gates, towing luggage behind them as they rushed down the crowded pathways and between loitering groups of people. You whipped your head this way and that at the sight, your head spinning with all the new sights and sounds.
It was still hard to believe that just a few months prior, you wouldn’t have been able to step foot in an airport like this.
To see people move from one place to the next, seeing loved ones and meeting new people for the first time was almost exhilarating, especially after all that had happened with the world. You liked it, and you certainly hoped that it was here to stay.
You had just started walking down the main path when you felt your phone ring in your pocket. Fishing it out, your face lit up at the caller ID, and you picked up without waiting another second, pressing the cool glass to your ear with a smile. “Hi, George.”
“Hey!” he greeted with a cheerful tone. “Did you get here safely?”
Rocking back and forth on your heels, you curled your fingers a little tighter around the handle of your suitcase with a hum. “Yep.”
“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and it sent a familiar tingle of warmth bouncing down your spine. “How are you feeling?”
You paused, your steps faltering for a brief second as you pondered. “Nervous,” you said after a moment or two, “but a good kind of nervous.”
“A good kind of nervous?” he repeated with a fond tone. “I think I know the word you’re looking for.”
Your lips curled up at his words, your mind flashing back to a distant day from long, long ago. “Yes, George, I’m excited.”
The laugh that fell from his lips sounded like pure music to your ears, and you caught yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind drowning in the sound. “Me, too.” As you wove between a few sectioned off groups, George added gently, “You know where to meet us, right?”
You nodded with a small noise of confirmation, making a sharp turn down yet another long hallway. “Yeah—I’m pretty sure Clay and Sap are already waiting for us.”
George snorted, both affectionate and teasing at once. “Oh, I know they are. I’ll see you there?”
You grinned, bobbing your head along to the beat of your suitcase wheels rolling across the polished tiled floors. “For sure. See you there!”
Lowering your phone from your ear, you pressed your thumb against the screen before letting it drop into your pocket once more. A sigh escaped your lips as you let the ache you had been suppressing tumble loose, throbbing and gnawing away at the shaky shards of your heart.
How long had they known that Clay and Sapnap were soulmates, now? Five months? Six? You weren’t sure if you could even bring yourself to keep count, anymore. It hurt too much to think about. You were happy for them, you really were. But the selfish part inside you still longed for their touch, even if they wouldn’t ever truly be yours. It wasn’t that you didn’t like George, but you meant what you said—you couldn’t pick just one, and you wanted all of them, as greedy as it was.
Shaking your head, you pushed forward, your gaze darting up to the navigational sign hanging from the ceiling. No matter how painful it may be, you weren’t going to let your own heart get in the way of how amazing today was going to be. You were meeting your favourite people in the world today, and nothing was going to take that away from you.
Not even heartbreak.
Glancing briefly over at a map on the wall, you huffed as you dragged your suitcase up a set of stairs and through the corridor, chewing on the inside of your lip. George’s gate was on the opposite side of the airport from yours, and Clay and Sapnap were waiting in the middle for the two of you. His flight had arrived a bit before yours, so you knew you were just going to have to find all three of them together.
After another few minutes of walking, you found yourself walking into the central dome of the airport, the glass ceiling filtering natural light into the room as you wheeled your luggage in. Your lips parting in awe at the sight, you swept your gaze across the busy room, scanning over every head you could find. You had only been looking for a few moments when a head of dark sepia hair caught your attention. Narrowing your eyes, you shuffled forward carefully. Then, your lips split into a triumphant grin.
There they were.
In a heartbeat, you felt your insides melt at the sight. Sapnap and George looked as handsome as ever, their lips curled up into dazzling smiles as they spoke, and Clay—oh, Clay. This was the first time you would ever be seeing each other’s faces, but you didn’t have to see him to know that he was pretty. With tousled golden locks and emerald green eyes that flashed like gemstones, he was everything you could have asked for and more.
Chatting casually with one another, all three of them were dressed in comfortable clothes, and you wanted to fling yourself at them and bury yourself into their warm touch. Sucking in a deep breath, you marched toward them, slinking around so that you were facing their backs. Hugs could come later—right now, it was time for a surprise.
Treading slowly and carefully, you only stopped when you stood a foot behind them, the giddiness rising in your chest as you finally opened your mouth.
“Sapnap was right. You are tall.”
The three of them immediately whirled at the sound of your voice, their eyes as wide as saucers as their gazes locked on yours. The grin on your face only grew wider as you watched their faces light up in unison, like a set of stars coming together in the night sky.
“[Y/N],” they said at the same time, blinking wildly as you sent them a small wave.
You laughed. “Here I a—”
“We were right, too,” Clay suddenly blurted, bending over slightly. “You are beautiful.”
Your cheeks flushed with bubbling heat, and you felt your heart leap in your chest. “I—ah, um,” you stammered, taking a step back. “You look good too, Clay.”
Sapnap took a step forward, reaching his hand out toward you with a soft smile. “So, we finally meet,” he hummed, a brilliant gleam flashing across his eye. “Does this mean I get to hug you, now?”
You grinned, and with a giggle, you were leaping forward, your suitcase wobbling behind you as you let go. The moment you felt warm arms wrap around your backside, you felt yourself relax.
Then, your skin suddenly felt like it was on fire.
Warmth surged up your spine like a rippling flame, your eyes shooting wide open as you gasped, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of Sapnap’s shirt. In an instant, you were stumbling back, clutching at the space over your heart. You could feel it going absolutely haywire in your chest, pounding like never before. Your entire body felt as light as a feather, and your mind felt strangely hazy.
Impossible—it had to be.
“Sap,” you choked out, your eyes locking onto his own wide ones, “you—”
“George, Clay,” he suddenly said, reaching a hand out toward the two boys, “get over here. Right now.”
The two of them had been standing stock still just a few steps away, their jaws dropped and faces contorted with surprise as they watched you and Sapnap tremble across from one another. Swallowing, George took the first shaky step forward, reaching his hand toward yours. The moment your fingers brushed, the same tingling warmth crashed over you like a wave, and you let out a soft noise, happiness blooming in your throat like a blossom in spring. You watched with earnest eyes as George’s expression mirrored yours, his rosy lips parted in surprise as his fingers latched onto yours. The hope you had locked away months ago came pouring out of your glowing heart like a waterfall, overwhelming every inch of your senses.
“It’s not just us,” you whispered, your voice brimming with nebulous hope. “It’s George, too.”
George lifted his head, his breath hitched as he turned. “That just means...”
All three of your gazes landed on Clay, who was still frozen in place, stock still with shock. Your eyes darted to Sapnap’s, then George’s. You nodded in unison, and without saying a word, you stepped forward. You slipped your hand into Sapnap’s, your heart trembling with adoration at how big and warm his palm was against your own. Sharing one last glance with one another, you nodded. Just like that, you were slipping your hand into Clay’s, George following suit while Sapnap grabbed his.
In a heartbeat, everything felt perfect.
The empty cracks in your heart no longer felt as wide as they once did, instead flooding with burning warmth and something that felt like love. Your head spun with dizzying affection, and you felt your vision grow watery, but for an entirely different reason, now.
God, you loved them, you loved them, you loved them.
At your side, Sapnap’s hand shook in yours, surprise lacing his every word. “I can’t believe it.”
“A four-way soulmate bond,” George breathed, his own mouth twitching up into a lovestruck grin. “I—I never thought we’d have one. I mean, I always hoped but—”
Suddenly, Clay spoke up, his voice hoarse but full of sincerity. “W-Woah, are you crying? What’s wrong?”
In a flash, their eyes were on you, who had let go of Clay’s hand to press your palm against your eye. “N-Nothing’s wrong,” you said, your voice shaking with overwhelming emotion. “I’m just—I’m so happy.” A quiet sniffle bubbled up in your throat, but it didn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “I liked you all so much and I was so scared that only George was going to be my soulmate, because you’re all so important to me, and I couldn’t just give you guys up like that.”
“[Y/N],” Clay choked out, his own voice starting to wobble, “stop, please. You’re going to make me cry.”
Laughing, you leaned against him, soaking into the warmth of his body as his arm instinctively wrapped around you. “Just—just cry with me, okay? We can all cry together.”
You didn’t need to say it twice. Not even a split second later, and you felt two more pairs of arms snake up around you, a nose burying itself into your hair as a cheek pressed against yours. “It looks like you won more than just one lottery then, huh?” Sapnap mumbled from above you, his chest rumbling against your back.
“Yeah,” George chuckled, his fingers lovingly rubbing small circles against your arm. “First the manhunt, now this. Just how lucky can one person be?”
You smiled, rubbing your head against Clay’s shoulder with a loving hum. “I don’t know what the universe was thinking,” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering shut as you gently rocked back and forth together, “but I’m glad I won. You three are the best prize I could have ever asked for.”
You felt a pair of lips press a soft kiss to the top of your head, your heart sighing in your chest. “I love you,” someone whispered, too softly for you to tell who it was.
All around you, the bustling airport kept moving, full of life and bursting with energy as the crowds flowed around you like a river. The world was still moving, the planet still turning beneath your feet as you embraced one another, warm and safe in each other’s arms. But in that moment, none of that mattered. A dazzling spark danced along the crevice of your heart, bright and warm and oh-so full of hope as you opened your mouth to whisper back.
“I love you all, too.”
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honey-milk-depresso · 4 years ago
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Genshin s/o stole a vison
OH SHIT I HAVE SO MANY REQUESTS, BUT I WANTED TO DO THIS FOR QUITE SOME TIME NOW SO SPARE ME-
Hope you enjoy! ^^
Diluc
He’s quite shocked to hear so,
and maybe a little disappointed.
Diluc is a man who has a strong sense of justice.
He does not tolerate things like stealing,
especially when a vision bearer was dying,
and you just took away their vision.
Just like that.
But he can tell,
you are very remorseful of what you have done.
That vision you bear constantly reminds you of the sins you’ve committed.
That’s why you don’t use it often.
You felt like you didn’t deserve to use it, let alone bear it.
I guess you wondered if the vision chose you just so to live your sins.
He quite pity you, and be a little empathetic.
Everyone deserves forgiveness, right? 
Not Kaeya sadly-
All he could do is stroke your hair in a soothing motion.
As he could only mutter out two words:
“It’s okay.”
At least you were honest with him,
and decided to owe up.
That’s a first.
Zhongli
He can only sigh.
It’s not the first time he came across such situation.
Countless of people in his life yearned for a vision,
that greed pushing them to do the extreme, like stealing, 
especially in a vision bearer’s final moments.
The look in your eyes,
he could tell you regretted it.
And he connected the dots to finally know the true reason of why you rarely use your vision.
You felt as if you were carrying around a sin,
using it only makes you look little of yourself,
and that no matter how strong it is, it wasn’t yours to begin with.
Zhongli weighs a fair share of heavy burdens, ones were when he was a soul slaughterer.
He regrets it, but has move on.
He can only be there for you now, to reassure you that all is in the past.
“You have admitted to at least one person, I assure you the gods have forgiven you.”
He has forgiven you,
so please forgive yourself.
Telling someone the truth, at least one,
is the first way to letting go of the burden.
He’s there for you. Every step of the way.
Xiao
Like Zhongli,
he simply remains silent.
And like Diluc, he’s a man with a strong sense of justice,
he despises people who does wrongdoings, like stealing.
But, then again,
it’s not his first time seeing someone stealing another’s vision.
He’s live for so long to see such.
But when his s/o stolen one in someone’s dying moments?
He’s quite ambivalent on how to feel.
He loves you, but he also can’t tolerate such crimes.
But when he sees you showing how guilty you feel as such,
he can’t help but feel a little sympathetic.
He’s killed thousands and thousands of lives throughout his life,
the burden laid on his shoulders 
is as heavy as the world could even bear.
Carrying and possessing a vision, he can tell must be like carying around a burden,
a crime.
Something you never wished.
You truly are ashamed, and he wants to let you know it’s okay, sort of.
He’s not good with his words, but he just wraps his arm around you in hopes you feel a little better.
He understands. You don’t have to share your burden alone.
Kazuha
He’s quite sympathetic,
but he has his righteous virtues that he upholds.
While he has taken a vision when his friend was about to suffer under an indestructible force, 
he didn’t use it for his own gain.
He cannot accept crimes such as stealing.
But then again, he did sort of give it to the traveler in the end, 
has he?
But knowing you truly were sorry for what you have done,
and that you felt so guilty of such,
he feels sorry for you.
Maybe that’s why you rarely use your vision.
Because you felt as if you didn’t deserve using it,
and that it reminded you of how cruel you used to be.
Kazuha reassures you,
that at least you repented,
and that you pour it out to someone,
which is him.
Kazuha might hate crime doings,
but he also believes if you are truly sorry for what you have done,
you deserve a second chance.
You will remain his precious s/o, no matter what.
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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago
Text
Falling
Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff, Angst | NC-17 | 11K
Summary: In the absence of your warmth, Lee Donghyuck begins to reminisce the loving memories he’s shared with you in the past three years, regretting how your first fight turned into something that ended it all. Lyrics are taken from this beautiful song: Harry Style’s Falling.
Warnings: Unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!), oral sex, alcohol consumption, swearing
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I'm in my bed
And you're not here
The small, barely prominent crack on the ceiling of his bedroom has always gone unnoticeable. It stands only as a silent witness of the meeting between a pair of plumps lips to redder ones, the breathless sounds of frantic moans, and the sacred exchange of loving words. But not tonight. Tonight, as he lays on his bed, sheets all crumpled but with the absence of your warmth, Donghyuck notices everything.
He notices how quiet his room—his entire apartment—feels when it’s only the sound of his own, soft breathing echoes through the air. The walls, the carpet, the bedsheets, the framed photographs that remind him of the joy that used to bloom on his face—everything feels monochromatic. Empty. Shallow. Because ever since you walked out of his life, you’ve taken all the colors with you, leaving him solely in black and white.
And there's no one to blame
But the drink in my wandering hands
With the bitter taste of vodka sitting on his tongue, Donghyuck closes his eyes, allowing himself to remember but not forgive the words he once said to you. 
Regrets start to suffocate him at once.
Forget what I said
It's not what I meant
And I can't take it back
I can't unpack the baggage you left
What hurts from a break-up is not the parting of two hearts, but the memories that had been drawn deep within them. It’s not the kiss that he misses, it’s the taste of your lips—the faint scent of strawberry that sits pale in comparison to your natural flavor. It’s the way they move against his own, timid at first then consuming all at once. And how there will be no other girl that will taste the same, feel the same, or emit the same kind of feelings from him.
It’s funny, Donghyuck thinks, how he can only see your smile behind his closed eyelids these days. But he doesn’t find himself laughing. He can’t even remember the last time he found a reason to smile, now that you’re gone.
The moon was hiding behind thick clouds, he remembers, that night when fate walked in and introduced you to one another.
Donghyuck’s eyes were glued to the silver screen, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he witnessed the battle between the villain and the protagonist grew deadly. The thrill of it soon perished, however, when a scent of chamomile shampoo fleeted through his nose.
Your head was falling onto his shoulder as you waned into your dreamland. Unbeknownst to you, you had been leaning your weight entirely to a stranger whose bergamot perfume compelled you to focus on anything besides the movie. It was as pleasant as it was distracting. But after being sleep deprived for three days, exhaustion finally took over and you fell asleep so deeply, you didn’t even have the strength to dream.
Your weight on his body was unfamiliar but it wasn’t uncomfortable for twenty-two years-old Lee Donghyuck. As he took a glance at your face, it wasn’t your beauty that kept him frozen—except for the gentle smile that broke on his lips. It was how peaceful you looked, almost like an enervated child curling up after spending her time chasing butterflies on the field.
Donghyuck shifted carefully on his seat, attempting his best to give you comfort by providing more space for you to lean your weight on. Then he stayed still, his smile never faltered away, the movie long forgotten. He didn’t spare a glance at the screen even when people were gasping at the sight of the protagonist dying in his lover’s arms. He was more intrigued by the thought of your name, wondering whether it would sound as nice as the smell of your shampoo.
When the credits rolled, Donghyuck told Mark and Jeno in hushed whispers to leave without him, throwing icy glares at them when they grinned devilishly at the sight of you sleeping on his shoulder. He went as further as kicking Jeno on the shin when his voice rose too loudly, afraid that he’d wake you up, which made the other man complain because certainly, the background music was louder than anything else in the room.
Nevertheless, you were still deep in your slumber.
Donghyuck begged for more time when one of the concessions workers asked him to leave. Refused and left with no other solution, he sighed and turned his head toward you.
“Hey,” he whispered, heart palpitating in anticipation of finally hearing your voice. “We have to go.”
His voice was foreign to your ears but it was so soothing, almost like a lullaby, that you snuggled closer, wanting to hear more of it. It took Donghyuck three times more with his cheeks reddening to call upon you until you finally found the power to detach yourself from your stupor.
“Hey there,” a boy—beautiful boy—with glowing, sun-kissed skin; round, enticing eyes; and a voice as sweet as honey, beamed at you with a smile so warm, it nearly melted your heart, and you decided ah, I don’t ever want to wake up from this dream.
It was when the usher popped into your vision, stating, “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but we’re closing,” that you internally screamed oh God, no, this isn’t a dream, what have I done?
“So that’s what he said.” Donghyuck’s smile was sheepish with a tint of teasing, and your heart moved on its own, yearning for him to display you another one. “But if you still have time to spare, we can go get some coffees or something. I can fill you in on the details.”
“A—” Your voice was hoarse from sleep, embarrassingly so. “About what?”
“About the movie you just missed.” The grin he showcased grew wider and this time, it was so utterly mischievous that you had to break your gaze before heat rushed to your face. “The fact that you’re here watching a movie by yourself must mean you’re interested to see how it ends. I can help you with that.”
“Umm—” You rummaged your purse, pretending like you were searching for something when it was only a poor excuse for you to not be captivated by his eyes longer than you already were. “It’s fine, I can look it up online.”
“But then what should I do with this?” He brought his right hand in the air, pursing his lips. “My arm’s falling asleep. Shouldn’t you take responsibility for it?”
The horrified look on your face made him laugh, and his laughter became the reason why you decided to throw all common sense away and just went with what felt right.
Awkward conversations made you anxious but they died before you could finish your coffee. They were reborn into something that was supposed to only be shared between friends instead of strangers, but with Donghyuck, everything felt so natural, you didn’t even find the will to question it. His affable, carefree attitude was almost inspiring, breaking through your facade as easy as counting his fingers.
“So, how come you went to the movies by yourself?” Donghyuck asked, his coffee long forgotten on the table as he was more drawn to you and the little smile you retained on your lips. “Boyfriend too busy to come along?”
A bit flustered, you brought your head down, hiding your eyes behind your fringe. “I don’t... have a boyfriend.”
Donghyuck raised an eyebrow, lying his chin on his palm as he rested his elbow on the table. The way he stared at you made your stomach flip, and he reciprocated with nothing but a hum, tapping a finger to his cheek. His tiny smile held a thousand meaning.
You hurriedly took a sip of your coffee. “I, uhh, I had some free time today and it’s my favorite movie franchise—I just got to see how it ended. But all my friends have seen it, so…”
“They didn’t invite you?”
“They did. I was just busy with work.”
His voice dropped an octave lower. “And they didn’t wait for you.”
“It’s—” Your chest tightened. “It’s fine, really. I mean, it would only make me feel bad if they waited for me. My schedule is crazy. I haven’t been sleeping properly for three days because of my deadlines.”
“Yeah, I noticed that.” He chuckled and you noticed how his teeth were a little jagged. “I could still smell your drool on my shirt, actually.”
“Oh my God,” you spluttered. “I’m—Please let me wash it for you.”
“And you expect me to walk home half-naked?” His naughty eyebrow raise made your skin tingle. “Or are you inviting me to stay over?” Seeing you part your mouth but lost for words, Donghyuck tittered. “I’m kidding. I would’ve waited for you. No matter how busy you were, I would. And even if I’ve watched it first, I wouldn’t mind watching it again with you.”
You shook your head, both in attempts to disagree with his words and to erase your blush away. “But that would be a waste of money—”
“That wouldn’t be a waste, and you know why?” He leaned closer, body almost halfway through the table. “Because for me, it’s never about the movie. It’s about watching it together with you. About us complaining about the plot holes, talking about the bad acting, laughing at each other when something reminds us of one of our inside jokes. That’s what makes it worth.” As Donghyuck realized how your eyes were locked with his, your breath hitching in your throat with the proximity, he quickly plummeted back to his seat, flushed. “I mean, it applies to everyone—not you, specifically.”
So he could be shy, you wondered. And what else could he be? Maybe buried underneath those mischievous grins, laid a caring heart. Maybe he could be the one who’d understand when you missed three of his calls as you tried to survive your deadlines. Maybe he would cook you breakfast instead of just reminding you to take one. Maybe he could taste sweeter than any boy you’d ever kissed.
So when his curiosity for you matched the intensity you had towards him, you let your walls crumble, welcoming him with open arms.
“It’s going to rain,” Donghyuck mentioned, eyes observing the night sky, dark clouds rumbling as they hovered above you. You were walking next to him, knuckles nearly grazing one another from how near you were though none of you was brave enough to close the distance.
Although obvious, you decided to humor him. “Yeah? How can you tell?”
“‘Cause I’m psychic.” The added wink in the end was a bonus but to you, it became the main reason why you had to drag your gaze to your feet.
Funny how for the past three hours, your smile never faltered away—almost to the point that your cheekbones began to hurt—when you could barely remember the last time you found amusement in anything.
“Are you cold?” he asked, and you promptly shook your head no. Unfortunately for you, your body betrayed you. Donghyuck chuckled softly when he noticed the shivers that ran through your spine. “Want me to lend you my jacket?”
“Oh—no, it’s fine, I’m—”
“It was a rhetorical question, dummy.” The body heat that was imprinted on his leather jacket made you well-aware of just how warm he actually was. The scent of his bergamot perfume was overwhelmingly delightful, but there was another scent underneath it—something that reminded you of summer, sunlight, and sandalwood—that made you wonder, maybe, if he wasn’t wearing this perfume, he’d smell just like this.
He pushed your hair away from your neck, straightening the jacket until it enveloped you entirely with its warmth. “Better?”  
You eventually managed to snap yourself out of your reverie. “Were you always this smooth with women?”
“No, I just practiced in front of my mirror a lot.”
“Practiced what?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “The art of seduction.”
“Is that so?” Your cheeks began to warm but it was probably because of the jacket. “Guess I should try that sometimes,” you joked.
“I don’t think you need it,” he cooed, bending himself down a little so you were eye-to-eye. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers from the second I laid my eyes on you.” When you became petrified by his words, his laughter reverberated through the air. “Now, that’s an example. How did I do?”
Ignoring your racing heart, you retorted, “Terrible.”
“Then will you let me practice on you so I can get better?”
Just like that, you found yourself sporting another smile. “Now, that’s smooth.”
Your life had been dull, repeating the same routines over and over again with your job taking most of your precious hours. Being with Donghyuck was a breath of fresh air—a stranger who was attentive to every little gesture you made, every little word that escaped your mouth, as much as he easily stole your attention away. His confidence was inspiring, his laughter was contagious, and you adored every little bit of his quirkiness.
“This feels like a date,” he professes, smiling diffidently to himself. “Would it be okay for me to think of it as a date?”
Suddenly, your vocabulary had diminished into nothing but his name. You nodded, and surprisingly enough for you, Donghyuck snickered, hand reaching out to playfully—almost childishly—ruffle your strands. “Thanks. Then a date it is.”
You wished time could go slower so you could savor the moment, memorizing the heart shape of his lips when he grinned.
You stopped in front of your apartment building, a breeze of cold night wind caressing your cheeks. “Umm, this is me,” you said, dismantling his leather jacket of your body. “Thank you... for this.”
Donghyuck’s fingertips grazed against your knuckles and it took longer than necessary for him to retrieve it from your hand. “You’re welcome.”
“And...” Your mind strayed away from forming the right words as you took notice of him wearing his leather jacket, how it fitted him so perfectly, how handsome he looked. “Umm, thank you for walking me back.”
“Thank you for giving me the chance.” His smile reminded you of spring, your favorite season, the way it blossomed on his face, so warm and beautiful. “I could’ve been a serial killer, you know. Showing me where you live isn’t too smart.”
“You don’t look like a serial killer to me.”
“Yeah?” His smile turned impish. “Then, how do I look like to you?”
You were fast to pivot on your heels. “I think I should go.”
His laughter filled the air. “Wait, I haven’t even said good night yet.”
“Then good ni—“ Your words died on your tongue when a pair of plump lips found their way to your cheek, just brushing lightly against the skin but your entire breath escaped your lungs at once. He retraced his steps before you could respond properly, biting the corner of his lip, looking somewhat unsure.
“Sorry if that’s—“ Donghyuck cleared his throat. “Umm, good night.”
You felt lightheaded, and you shortly blamed it on the amount of espresso you’d gulped too much during the day. “Good… night…”
Donghyuck was too bashful to meet your eyes, which was why you were brave enough to sneak a glimpse at his face. You decided that his sly, confident grins looked alluring on his face, but they were nothing compared to how adorable he seemed when he evinced that nervous, shy look on his face.
It took a few seconds before Donghyuck gave you a weak nod and walked away, taking the same direction from where you came. Something queasy grew inside your stomach, your grip around your purse tightening. 
Is it all there is? Am I never going to see him again?
With a heavy sigh, you walked toward your building.
Maybe he doesn't like me that much... But what do I do now? I want to see him again.
I don’t want to let him go without knowing whether I could see him again.
God, for once, just do something for yourself. Do something that makes you happy, be brave!
Taking a deep breath, you chose to gamble.
At the same time you turned on your heels, shouting his name, Donghyuck was calling upon yours and you both met each other halfway, breathless when it didn’t even take you more than twenty steps to reach one another.
“H-hi,” you greeted, voice quivering but not as much as the fingers you curled around the hem of your blouse.
“Hey.” Donghyuck’s gaze softened. “I was wondering—”
“Can we meet again?” You didn’t intend to cut him off so abruptly, but the anxiety within you nearly made your heart burst that you ended up asking the question without waiting for him to finish his. “I—I mean—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”
“Yes, a thousand times yes,” he answered in one breath, with his sentence ending in chuckles. “You’re adorable, do you know that?”
Your heart was still about to burst but for an entirely different reason. “That’s…” You tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear—a habit that seemed to appear whenever you were too embarrassed to function. “That’s great. I mean, the fact that you want to see me again, not—” Oh God, okay, stop. “Well, then, umm, I guess I should leave now.”
He concealed his grin. “Aren’t you going to ask for my number or something?”
You mentally slapped yourself. “Y-yes, that would make it easier.”
The way Donghyuck was gazing at you made you feel like you were about to fall from the edge of your seat. He must think I’m an idiot. But had you been brave enough to see the gleam in his eyes, you would’ve noticed how he was staring at you so adoringly. “Give me your phone then.” When you just stood still, too busy trying to comprehend that a cute boy was really going to give you his number, Donghyuck added, “To add my numbers, Sweetheart. What, do I look like someone who flirts with pretty girls just to steal their phones away?”
“I wasn’t—” You quickly handed him your phone. “Here.”
Donghyuck’s smile grew playful again. “Care to make it interesting?”
“What?”
“I’ll add my numbers except for the last digit. You gotta guess it.”
“What? Why—”
“Because you’re cute,” he repeated, cocking his head as he returned your phone. “And it makes me want to tease you even more.” You unconsciously began to pout and he nearly whimpered at the sight. “Don’t do that, that’s not fair.”
You mumbled quietly, “I don’t like being made fun of.”
“I’m not making fun of you, I’m teasing you. There’s a difference.” He sighed, fingertips aching to reach out and swat your bangs away from your eyes. “A huge difference.”
You jutted out your bottom lip. “Feels the same to me.”
Donghyuck leaned in, calloused palm finding its way to cup your cheek, lifting your face so the streetlight could illuminate your features. “You need to wash that pout away from your face,” he whispered, eyes slowly going down to your lips that you had to remind yourself to breathe. “Or else I won’t be able to hold myself back.”
It was supposed to be another teasing, you knew he only meant it that way. But all trace of playfulness quickly vanished from his face when he noticed your eyes drifting to his lips—just for a split second—but that was enough. He saw the sign, he felt the chemistry, and there was no way he was going to let it pass just like that. Not when he had been thinking the same thing repeatedly for the last three hours you’d been together.
It wasn’t your first kiss—nor your second or third—but it was the kiss that mattered and you weren’t sure why. Three hours ago, he was a stranger. Now, he sent a trickle of electricity through your bloodstream, as if he was your first love. As if you had been wanting him for years.
A gentle rain began to pour over your heads, tiny droplets staining your cheeks but all you could think about was the way his thumb was caressing your cheekbone, how his lips were warmer and softer than anything you could have imagined, yet fierce and powerful at the same time.
“Am I going too fast?” He asked in a broken whisper, parting away just enough to murmur the question but close enough that you could still feel his words grazing your lips.
“Yes.” But you curled your fingers on the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. Donghyuck sighed into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he let himself drown deeper in passion. What started as a chaste kiss became ardent, and you allowed him to taste you enough so that he would fall asleep thinking about your lips. Donghyuck took a hold of your wrist, detaching your grip from his fabric and moved it up, silently telling you to wind your arms around his neck instead. The second you did it, he melded his lips with yours in a passion that matched the blazing sun, entangling his long arms around your waist, nearly lifting you off your feet as he embraced you tighter.
You wanted to preserve this moment. Right here, kissing fervidly under the soft rain in the arms of a stranger, drowned in the feelings of excitement. Because if you were oxygen, then Donghyuck was dying to breathe.
When it ended, you wished it didn’t have to. Donghyuck’s eyes were deep and intense as they peered into yours, growing a bit half-lidded when he shifted them back to your lips. “Hey.”
You mirrored his gentle smile, forehead pressing against his. “Hi…”
“I don’t know about you,” he chuckled lowly, “but as far as first kisses go, I think that was the best first kiss in the history of mankind.”
You tried to suppress your laughter but failed instantly. “Hyuck?”
“Yeah?”
“Judging from that line, I think you need to practice harder on your art of seduction.”
“Let’s just go back to kissing for now. I like kissing.” He pulled you in again, exchanging muffled giggles between playful kisses.
And if happiness had a form, it would’ve had his smile.
What am I now? What am I now?
What if I’m someone I don’t want around?
I’m falling again. I’m falling again.
I’m falling.
It’s almost laughable that the memories that once sparked so much joy in his heart have taken a shape of javelin, striking him deep in his chest, right where he ached for you the most. It tasted like summer when he kissed you in the rain, and the pain that swells in Donghyuck’s heart whenever the memory of it suffices is harder than the storm. And now, it’s the silence of the room—the absence of your presence—that pierces his skin.
It was easy for him to fall in love with you. So easy, it frightened him at first. After his first relationship, the way his first love shed his heart to pieces, he thought he wouldn’t be able to love someone ever again. Wouldn’t have the courage to even try. But when you came into the picture, Donghyuck didn’t even have the strength to resist. You were everything he ever wanted, an epitome of the woman that graced his dreams. And he was a prisoner, trapped under your spell.
So, why does everything have to end?
Now that he’s falling without you catching him, what is he going to do?
He hates who he’s become. He loathes the fact that he can no longer easily smile like he used to. He despises how grimly he envisioned the world these days. As if you were his entire future, and now that you’re gone, his whole world collapses. Donghyuck no longer knows himself, as you were the one who defines him. The one who gave meaning to his life. The one who mended his broken heart.
What if I’m down? What if I’m out?
What if I’m someone you won’t talk about?
I’m falling again. I’m falling again.
I’m falling.
You must hate me now, Donghyuck ponders, bringing his arm over his face, nibbling at the corner of his lip. The things I said… How I let you go without even giving us a chance… I must have hurt you…
It all began that night, on the day of your twenty-sixth birthday. Two years had passed since you shared your first kiss. Little fights over your differences couldn’t be avoided, but they helped nurture the bond you had with him, making it stronger. And each forgiveness was sincere and was rich in kisses. Donghyuck always made sure of that.
As you were fond of movies, your perfect date must involve watching a movie together with him so Donghyuck, dressed unusually handsomely in a white button-up shirt and black khakis that caught you off guard, took you out to the movie theater—the place where fate once meddled in and brought you to one another.
Knowing your taste, he paid two tickets to see the latest romantic movie, two buckets of popcorn, and a coke for him but iced green tea for you, realizing full well how soda had become one of your biggest enemies ever since your diet started. He made sure that your seats were located on the corner top of the theater, private enough for him to snuggle close to you or steal kisses whenever he felt like doing. You didn’t mind because Donghyuck would only kiss you when you seemed bored, never wanting to bother you when you were too immersed in the movie. He simply kept his hand laced with yours the whole time to make up for the loss.
Complaining about the plot holes and making jokes that only you two could understand had become Donghyuck’s habit to keep you entertained during the movie and it was something you always looked forward to. But that night, he was quiet, his eyebrows creasing in irritation but because of what, you were clueless.
“Are you okay?” You asked as you exited the building, this time being the one who reached out for his hand first. Donghyuck stiffened but his shoulders soon relaxing as he intertwined your fingers together.
“I’m fine,” he assured. “Why, do I not look fine?”
You weakly smiled back, uncertain. “You just seem awfully quiet, that’s all.”
He rubbed his nape, somehow looking a bit perturbed. “I just… It made me remember something I’ve been trying my best to forget.”
“You mean the movie?”
“Yeah.” He sighed into the night, puffs of hot air erupting from his slightly chapped lips. “I don’t know about you, but I think the way the movie depicted their long-distance relationship is just bullshit.”
There was so much bitterness in his words that it nearly made you stop walking. Suddenly, there was a thick tension around you, one that made you aware that it would be wiser to drop the conversation. But curiosity was eating you from the inside. He looked so crushed, so angry, and Donghyuck was turning into a whole other person before you.
You asked him what happened.
“I don’t think I want to talk about my past relationship when I’m celebrating a special night with my girlfriend.” He forced himself to laugh about it, but it sounded hollow.
You unconsciously tightened your grip around his hand. “I just wanted to understand you better.”
“Hey.” He pulled you toward him so abruptly, you ended up falling on his chest. His smile was warmer when he looked at you. “Without even knowing my past, you already understand me better than anyone.”
You were still unsettled when Donghyuck kissed your lips to divert your attention, softly biting your lower one just to joke around to ease the tension. “Ah, I can’t wait until we’re home,” he whispered when all laughter had receded and he had his fingers tucking your loose strands behind your ear. “I want to make love to you.”
Your heart beat thunderously inside your chest. “You’re—you’re just gonna say it so blatantly like that?” He used to be so shy about it, asking you to join him in bed by pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck instead of using words.
“Just wanted you to know my plans beforehand.” He simpered. “Or do you not want to?”
Face aflame, you hurriedly took a couple of strides forward, leading the way with your hand clamping his wrist. “Where are we going?” Donghyuck frowned but followed you nonetheless. “The restaurant is right there.”
“We can have dinner after.” You threw a look over your shoulder, too nervous to smile, but hoped your words would deliver. “Aren’t we going to make love?”
His astonished look soon turned delicate. Donghyuck’s smiles were always beautiful, but the ones that were caused by you were the brightest. 
As soon as the door clicked open, Donghyuck half-pushed, half-carried you inside his apartment that smelled pleasantly like him. He didn’t wait until it was properly closed before he latched his parted lips on your softer ones, fusing perfectly in the way no one ever could. A stinging pain erupted from the back of your head when Donghyuck drove you to the wall, not knowing his own strength, but when you groaned against his mouth, it was solely because you needed him as much as he needed you.
“I love you,” he breathlessly said against your neck, tearing your coat away from your body, fingers slipping underneath your dress. “I love you so much, it’s insane.”
It had been three months since you first exchanged the sacred three words, but no matter how much Donghyuck had whispered them to your ears, painted them to your skin with his lips, it still felt like the first time you heard him say the words. It wasn’t just because of how many promises he held underneath them, it was the way he said them—so sincerely, so desperately, as if you were running out of time and he needed you to hear them before you disappeared from his life.
“I—” You flinched, pulling him for another kiss again when Donghyuck hooked his fingers on the side of your lingerie, hastily pushing it down your thighs. “I love you too—Hyuck—”
The bed was not more than twenty steps away but it was long forgotten when Donghyuck, still with his teeth ghosting across your lower lip, hastily unzipped himself and pushed his jeans and boxers lower enough for your hand to find and stroke him to life. “God, baby—” he hissed when you curled your fingers around him, hot breath caressing your jawline. “I want—I need to be inside you—just—”
No one had ever wanted you the way he did. Every kiss was nearly bruising, every hug was almost suffocating, the thrill of it all was overwhelming. 
It was almost a whine that escaped his lips when he vocalized your name. As soon as his desperate gasp and pleading moan reached your ears, the butterflies came alive in your stomach. Your skin tingled, even with the lightest brush of his lips. Your fingers found home in his hair when he kissed the valley between your breasts, tugging at his soft strands and earning a low grunt in response.
You gave him a sign, affirming that it was okay to continue and Donghyuck wasted no time. Pushing the fabric of your dress as much as he could until it pooled around your waist, he lifted one of your legs and wrapped it around his hips, one hand sliding down to prop up your thigh, the other one aligning his tip against your entrance.
The friction made you moan, both in pain and passion, as Donghyuck slid himself in one swift motion. The second he was sheathed deep inside, waiting for you to adjust to his size, he drew out a long sigh, eyes shut close as he relished the sensation. But when your gaze met, his half-lidded eyes were gentler than they had been the entire day. Careful fingers framed your face, his thumb rubbing comforting circles along your cheekbone. “Are you okay?”
You weakly nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Are you?”
His chuckles were light and bashful. “I’m feeling great,” he said. He moved his hips without warning, just a little, not too fast, not too deep, but the sensation was enough to make you whimper and Donghyuck swallowed every little noise you made directly with his lips.
A certain thrust made you squeeze around him and he drowned out his moan by mouthing against your shoulder, teeth prickling against the skin. “Fuck, do that again, baby, please.” And as he continued hitting the same spot, it was a given that you provided the same reaction.
Donghyuck was insanely good at making you feel good, and in return, you wanted to give him everything that he desired. “I love how you feel around me,” he confessed under his breath, as if he was talking to himself. “Perfect—you’re so perfect for me—”
Your arms were frantically clutching around his neck, trying to maintain stability when Donghyuck pushed you up the wall, now lifting both of your feet off the ground. He buried himself deeper, moved his hips faster, and kissed you with the desperation of a dying man.
You tried to hold back but you couldn’t. It was too much. His breathless moans in your ear, the frantic sway of his hips, the closeness of your bodies—everything was overwhelming and you came hard on his length, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as Donghyuck chased after your lips. 
“Fuck,” he breathed heavily, his jaw hung low. The way you quivered and clenched around him sent fire through his veins. “Did you just come?” he whispered and you bit your lip in shame. The tiny laugh that broke free from his lips were both playful and filled with tenderness. “Already? That was fast.”
Flustered but not given the chance to react, you inhaled sharply when Donghyuck picked up the pace. He was almost growling when his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. “Actually, me too,” he moaned, “Is it—can I come inside?”
You nodded fervently, embracing him tighter and Donghyuck buried his head in the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he came.
When he let you slide down to your feet, your knees gave out under your weight and you stumbled back to his chest. He held you close, laughing as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m sorry, come here.” Bending down slightly, Donghyuck hooked one arm under your knees and another one behind your back. He carried you in his arms, teasing, “The sex was so good, you could barely stand, huh?”
You playfully slapped his chest. “Shut up.”
But all of his mischievousness dissipated as soon as you both slipped under the duvet, his bedsheets felt silky smooth under your spine. He cleaned the stain that dripped down your thighs with a warm towel, but dipped his head down to taste you directly with his tongue the second he was finished with it. Donghyuck’s eyes never left yours, placing gentle kisses on the inner sides of your thighs and two more on your clit before he slid his tongue along your folds, slowly, as if he had the whole time in the world to please you.
He was always gentler the second time, slower with more feelings instead of sheer passion. So when he slid himself into you again, his forehead was pressed against yours, lips curving up into an innocent smile. “I never want to let you go,” he chuckled between tiny moans. “I want to stay just like this with you, forever.”
“I don’t think it’s physically possible,” you giggled, raking your nails down his spine and he arched his back in response. 
“Wouldn’t it be great if we could stay connected like this all the time, though?” Donghyuck broke away, sitting on his heels as he rested one of your legs on his shoulder. His fingers were kneading the skin of your thigh, hugging your leg close to his chest as he rocked his hips slowly, savoring every moment. “I mean, ah, doesn’t this feel good?”
You nibbled at your lip, sighing. Good was an understatement but you weren’t sure you could find a term to perfectly define how amazing he felt around you. From where you laid on the bed, you could take a good look at Donghyuck’s eyes—the way they drooped slightly, clouded with both affection and infatuation every time they met yours. How the muscles in his abs were flexing with every movement. The sinful, obscene sway of his hips. The little smirk that broke on his face when you accidentally moaned his name too loud—Donghyuck was... Beautiful. Irresistible. Sexy. 
“Baby?” Donghyuck called, chuckling softly as he peppered open-mouthed kisses to your ankle that made you stare in a haze. “You okay down there?”
You pursed your lips. “Just enjoying the view.”
“Yeah?” He brought your leg down so he could fall back into your arms, mouth meeting your jawline before it moved to playfully bite the tip of your nose. “Well, I’ve got something else you could also enjoy.”
You hummed, trying your best to contain your moan when he suddenly brought his fingers down to rub against your clit. “And what’s that?” Though by the way he slammed his hips harder against yours served as an obvious answer.
“Some caramel pudding,” he answered, nipping against your neck as he grinned, careful enough not to leave any marks. “They’re in the fridge. You’ll love them.”
It was hard to focus when he kept hitting the spot that made you curl your toes. “Hyuck...” You pushed a loose strand of his hair behind his ear before you caressed his cheek. “I love you.”
His movements stopped, eyes peering into yours, stunned at first, then melted into something softer than the breath of summer. “I love you too.” His lips never left yours as they spoke each loving word with more sentimentality and less urgency. “And happy birthday, baby...”
When both of you had no strength left but to cuddle in each other’s arms, you gathered the courage to ask once more. “Hyuck?”
“Hmm?”
“I still want to know, after all. About what happened to you earlier. You looked so distraught—I can’t rest before I know what upsets you.”
Donghyuck’s fingers stopped momentarily from carding through your strands but with a heavy sigh, he surrendered.
It was his first relationship with his first love, back when he was sixteen. They were together for four years but knew each other for ten. She was a close friend that grew into something more. Even loving words didn’t need to be exchanged as they could practically finish each other’s thoughts. You felt a pang of jealousy gnawing at you from the inside, at the thought of him having someone so important in his life—someone who had stayed with him longer than you’d met him—someone whose name couldn’t be spoken as it triggered too many emotions.
But for the sake of understanding him, you cast your jealousy aside, no matter how much it hurt.
Donghyuck’s voice had lost its usual cheeriness when he reminisced his past. By the time they graduated high school, she decided to continue her study in Japan. Donghyuck let her go, supporting her plans and dreams like the perfect boyfriend that he was. They were committed to each other, faithful to one another. Donghyuck never doubted her, not even once.
Until one day, during a summer break, he decided to pay her a visit. He bought airplane tickets with the money he’d saved up for months, along with a thoughtful gift for her birthday. But the second he saw her opening the door to her apartment, he realized that she wasn’t alone.
She was never alone. He was.
“Why are you here?” She asked, as if his presence was a bother. Him, the man whom she claimed she’d loved with her entire soul for the last four years. The man whom she had made love to on his bed just six months earlier. Donghyuck would never forget the look she had on her face that day.
“It’s funny how you’ve been with this person your whole life,” Donghyuck breathily said, eyes locked to the ceiling. “And you thought you knew them like the back of your hand and then one day, they betrayed you in the way you thought they were incapable of doing.”
You couldn’t find your voice, blending in with the silence of the room.
But he didn’t hate her, Donghyuck confessed. He hated himself. He hated how stupid—how innocent and gullible he was. He hated how easily he let someone else carry his heart around and let them do whatever they want with it. He knew that she wouldn’t have the power to destroy him, if he didn’t give her the chance. Maybe, if his thoughts weren’t as clouded by his feelings, he would’ve noticed the little sighs she made whenever he told her he loved her. He would’ve noticed the way she sounded much brighter when she talked about her life instead of their lives together during their late-night calls. He would’ve noticed how distant she sounded whenever she spoke his name, as if it was just another meaningless word and not the one that she used to murmur in short gasps near his ear.
And maybe if I hadn’t fallen in love...
Donghyuck fell mute for a few seconds as if he was drifted to another time and space. The hurting look on his face was so vivid that it broke you just by seeing it. Attempting to wash the pain away, you placed a hand on his cheek and Donghyuck grew rigid once before he melted into smiles, leaning into your touch.
“I had to stay for a whole week in a country I didn’t know because I couldn’t refund my ticket. All alone, since my girlfriend cheated on me and didn’t even care to apologize about it,” he murmured against your palm, still sounding bitter but with more ease. “So yeah, I probably have some trust issues now because of that.” He tried to laugh it off. “But it’s all right. I don’t care. I have you now, right?” He laid on his side, facing you with a boyish smile that made your heart race just a little bit faster. “I’m starting on a new page with you. And as long as you’re here with me, I’m the happiest man in the world.”
You reflected his smile though your heart was unsettled. “You’re lame.”
“Excuse me, I’m in love,” he corrected, pouting. But when his hand found yours, his expression grew tender again. Kissing each of your fingertips, he murmured, “We’ll always be together, right? Promise you won’t do that to me, ‘cause I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He knew what loving you could cost him, but you were different. And he was different. He wouldn’t fall into the same trap. He knew how to protect himself this time. So he allowed himself to love you just as much, if not more, moving on but never forget.
Your eyes were focusing on the way he brought your index finger between his lips, the tip pressing against his hot tongue. “Yes,” you softly whispered, hooking a finger around his silver necklace, pulling him in for a kiss. “We’ll always be together.”
So when you received a job promotion a year later, you didn’t know what to say to him. It was your dream job, finally achieving that position after practically hanging on for dear life for five years working in the company. The salary exceeded your expectation, and you would be working under a senior that you admired. The company would pay for all your living expenses, give you your own flat to live with a balcony where you could see the sun rising behind the skyscrapers. It all sounded so perfect. Too perfect.
Except for the part where you had to move to another country that stood three thousand miles from where he was.
You knew you should’ve said something to Donghyuck the first time your director broke the news to you. But you couldn’t as you didn’t know how. During the three years of your relationship, both of you had avoided talking about matters that could lead to fights, only allowing yourselves to discuss trivial, daily things that would make the other pout in annoyance but not fury. The first time you noticed this happened, was when both of you became too busy dealing with your own lives. You had your job to think about, while Donghyuck had his thesis to work on and there wasn’t much time to focus on each other even when you were staying in the same room.
Donghyuck often released his stress by nuzzling his nose against your neck, pulling you into his lap, whispering, “I miss you,” and you reciprocated each time with a kiss but you both stopped before it got too much, with you patting his cheek, apologizing to him with both words and your eyes, “I’m sorry, but I have a Zoom meeting in an hour so I really need to get my presentation done.”
He just sighed, pressing a tiny kiss between your eyebrows. “Well then, I’m gonna go catch some sleep. Don’t work too hard.”
And as he walked to the bedroom, closing the door behind him, leaving you alone in his living room, you realized the distance that grew between you. He used to look back, peeking his head through the door, saying, “Would it really kill you to just join me for, like, fifteen minutes? I’ll be fast, I swear,” which you would answer with a laugh, assuming he was joking. “Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”
Now, he doesn’t even stop to say good night.
You knew you could fix it—he knew he could fix it too—but none of you ever said anything about it, afraid that it would trigger something bigger that neither of you wouldn’t be able to fix.
It didn’t mean that you didn’t try. Every weekend, you would commit yourself fully for him and Donghyuck would accept your unspoken apology with all his heart. You once attempted to drop some clues about your promotion during dinner when he made you your favorite dish, grinning from ear-to-ear as he waited for your reaction. Donghyuck’s Spaghetti Aglio e olio never disappointed you, but you know your words would. So when he was smiling at you, his thumb gliding along your knuckles as he took your hand in his, how could you tell him? 
I just need more time to prepare myself. To find a better way to explain.
But before you could find your words, Donghyuck found your promotion letter.
“What is this?” He asked to your horror, body leaning against the doorframe, your letter in his hand.
The maroon dress you were trying to fold fell from your lap as you stood up abruptly, eyes widening in shock. “That’s—where did you get—”
“What is this?”
“It’s...” You trembled. “My promotion letter.”
“Are you planning to tell me about it?” He wasn’t shouting, didn’t even raise his voice, but to your ears, his voice was thunderous.  
You fidgeted, fingers fisting the hemline of your shirt, desperate for comfort. “Of course, I—” But there were no words. Your brain was too jumbled to find a proper excuse. So when Donghyuck just lowered his gaze, eyes growing colder, and left the room, you could only call out his name.
He only stopped in his tracks when you grasped his wrist. “Did you say yes to this?” His voice was quiet, eerily so, that it sent shivers down your spine.
You nibbled at your bottom lip. “I was—”
“Yes or no?”
He only allowed you to choose, not explain. With a deep breath, you mumbled out, “Yes.”
There was a moment of silence where you could only hear your stuttered breathing but none of his. “Three months,” he murmured, voice deep and hoarse that you barely recognized it. “The letter is three months old. You had all this time to tell me.”
Panic was bubbling up your chest. “I was going to tell you but—”
The rest of your words died instantly the second Donghyuck slammed the letter on the dining table. Without another word, he stomped off to the front door, grabbing his coat.
“Wait!” You chased after his trails, knees wobbling. “Where are you—”
The door was shut close with a bang.
No matter how many times you tried to call him, he never answered. The only thing you could do was stay in his apartment and waited until he came back to his senses. Now that you were alone in the living room, you began to notice just how much of your belongings were positioned in every corner of his apartment. Your toothbrush was next to his, your clothes were hanging inside his wardrobe, your favorite books were on his shelf, and the walls were painted with more photographs of you than his own. In every picture, you could see yourself smiling in his arms, laughing at something he did or said because that was it, wasn’t it? Donghyuck was the only one who could make you smile so freely, without a care in the world.
So why are we in this position?
It was your first big fight and you had no one to blame but yourself. Hours had passed by and tears began to well from how frustrated you were with yourself, but the front door flung open before they could outline your cheeks.
“Hyuck,” you called out, heart breaking at the sound of his name. Donghyuck’s hair was ruffled by the wind, his nose and cheeks reddening from the cold night air. His hands were in his coat’s pockets, his eyes hiding behind his bangs as he kicked his shoes away. He walked past you as if you weren’t there, heading straight to the bedroom.
Judging from the scent and his droopy eyes, you knew he had been drinking. “Are you okay?”
No answer. He took his coat off, throwing it to the bed, along with his phone—which was clearly functional as always. You had expected him to dismiss your calls, but it still hurt being ignored.
Eyebrows knitting in concern, you went to the kitchen to make him a cup of coffee, hoping that a little caffeine would ease the tension as it was something you were both fond of. You stopped to catch your breath, noticing that it was one in the morning.
What should I do?
“Hyuck…” You carefully said, voice quieter than usual as you walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind you. “I’ve made you some coffee. It’ll help warm you up.”
Donghyuck was sitting at the edge of the bed, his phone in his hands, blatantly ignoring you.
“Can we…” You hesitated, fingers curling into tiny balls of fists. “Can we talk..?”
But the silence was deafening.
“Hyuck—”
“What?!” He suddenly roared, making you take a step back, flinching. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I…” You swallowed your breath. “I know you’re upset about me leaving and I’m sorry—”
“Oh, so now you want to talk about this? After I found out about your letter?” Donghyuck didn’t wait for your response. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this a secret from me! What else are you not telling me?”
Heart dropping to the stomach, you weakly replied, “Nothing, just... I was going to tell you—”
“Yeah? When, exactly?” Donghyuck stood up, throwing his phone to the bed. “When you’re about to go? When you’re about to disappear from my life just like her?”
Being put in the same position as the person who tore his heart to pieces was both sickening and infuriating. “Of course not, I won’t do that to you! I won’t leave you—”
“But that’s all that everybody fucking said!” He threw his hands in the air. “That’s what she said when—”
“Well, I’m not her!” The booming sound of your voice startled you both, but it grew weak in comparison when the eerie silence followed. “Hyuck, you can’t blame me for what she did. I’m not her. I’m not her replacement. Don’t compare me with her.”
For a moment, Donghyuck’s lips were pressed tightly until they grew white. “I never compared you with her,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not until now when you’re doing the same thing, saying the exact same thing to me.”
You cowered slightly under his gaze. The sound of the ticking clock had never felt so loud when you fought for words to say. “It’s my dream job, Hyuck. I’ve been waiting all my life to get this position.”
“Congratulations.” He scoffed, clenching his jaw. “I’m so glad you get what you wanted.”
“You don’t have to force yourself to say words you don’t mean.”
He clicked his tongue in vexation. “Yeah, well, I would’ve meant them, if you had told me about this sooner.”
“I wasn’t able to tell you because I thought you’d be upset about it—”
“Well, I suppose, postponing it until we’re counting days till your leave is going to make me feel fucking elated, isn’t that right, Sweetheart?” There had never been a day where you thought his adorable, warm laughter could turn into something so spiteful. “Let me guess. You’re leaving in like, what, a month?”
You rubbed your tears away before they fell. “Six weeks.”
“Oh, that makes everything so much better! Six weeks!” He cynically laughed, throwing his head back. “You know what? You’re right. I’m so happy. Never been this fucking happy in my whole goddamn life—”
“What do you want me to do?!” The frustration that welled inside your chest finally broke through your lips. “You want me to turn back time so I could tell you right after I heard the news three months ago?”
Donghyuck averted his gaze, his hand going to his head, pulling at his hair roots. “I just don’t understand why if this is so important to you—and if I’m so important to you—why don’t you talk this out with me? Don’t you care about what I think? About how I’d feel?”
Tears were running faster than you could wipe them off your cheeks. “I couldn’t find the right time to tell you.” You choked out. “ And you were busy working on your final thesis too, I didn’t want to bother you—”
“That’s your excuse?!” he gasped in disbelief. “I don’t fucking care about my thesis. I care about you! And you knew how I felt about this—about being in a long-distance relationship—"
“That was the reason why I was waiting for the right time until—“
“Until you can tell me that you’re leaving.” He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m tired and we’re going in circles. Why are we even discussing this when you’ve made the decision all by yourself.”
Embittered, you asked, “Do you want me to choose between you and my career?”
“No. I don’t.” He finally peered into your eyes, and you could see how there was not as much anger as sadness that emerged in his eyes. “But I’m making my own decision.” When you frowned in confusion, Donghyuck looked away, staring at the wall that was filled with memories as he spoke. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
“What?” It felt like the world was swallowing you whole. “What did you say?”
Exchanging stares with you, Donghyuck appeared more weary than furious. “I just don’t see how this is going to work.”
“You’re drunk.” You reasoned out, both in efforts to calm him down and to wash the fear away from your chest. “You won’t be saying any of this if you were sober.”
Donghyuck’s eyes grew colder. “If that’s what makes you sleep at night, sure. Go ahead and think that way.”
Dread was coursing through your veins, making you feel terrified of what was coming. “Wait,” you almost pleaded, “We need to talk about this.”
“I think we’ve talked enough.”
“Can’t we at least try—”
“I can’t.” The confession escaped his lips, his eyes were heartbroken, as if it was you who was breaking up with him and not the other way around. “You know I can’t do this. I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes. I don’t want to be that guy who constantly gets suspicious or overly protective of you because of my past. It won’t be fair to you.”
“I don’t care if you’re being unfair,” you replied shakily, “I just don’t want us to end what we have now.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice grew softer. “If we continue this, I know I’ll end up saying things I never mean to say. With three thousand miles between us, how often do you think we can see each other? With you being so busy with your new job, how often can we speak?” But the bitterness in his voice came alive when he added, “We could barely do that when we were in the same room before.”
“It’s about that..?” Realization washed over you like a wave. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Same reason as you,” he replied, “To protect our relationship. That’s what we always do, isn’t it? Pretending everything is fine when it’s not?”
“Hyuck, I’ve tried my best to spend time with you... I thought you’d understand that I have a job—”
“You’re right, but unlike you, I don’t.” Donghyuck weakly smiled. “I don’t have anything going on with my life except you. I don’t even know if I can graduate in time. But you’ve achieved so much. You’re only a few years older than me and yet you’ve already had everything figured out, and I admire you for that.” His words sounded sincere but it only tore your heart open even more. Donghyuck walked closer, his fingers pushing the bangs out of your eyes like the way he used to do but it didn’t feel the same. “You’re already perfect the way you are now. You don’t need me in your life.”
“No.” The desperation was so thick in your voice, that it made you wince but not regret. “You’re wrong, you—There’s not a day where I don’t need you, Hyuck. I want you to stay with me. Come with me. We still have time.”
You don’t mean that. Donghyuck brought his head down, unable to meet your eyes. If you did, you would’ve told me about this sooner. “And then what?” he sighed, sounding so tired. “What am I going to do if I come with you? I haven’t even finished my study, let alone having a job.”
“You can find one in—”
“In a country where I can’t even speak the language?” He bitterly smiled. “I doubt it. I’m not gonna let you pay for my needs—”
“Then, I’ll make some time for you, I promise. Better this time.” Your fingernails were sinking into your palms from how tightly you curled them. “No matter how far we are from each other, I’ll call you every day.”
“I don’t want that.” His words were laced with frustration. “I don’t want you to force yourself to do something for me. And I don’t want to spend my nights imagining whether you’re spending yours with someone else.”
“You...” You were so quiet, you wondered if he could hear you properly. “You don’t trust me?”
But Donghyuck shook his head, gaze softening. “I do. I just don’t trust myself.”
Your mind turned into a blank slate, unable to form a word. Donghyuck’s breathing tattered a little when he exhaled, walking to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes. “I’m gonna go stay at Mark’s for the weekend. Feel free to take out your stuff. Just drop the keys at the lobby when you’re finished.”
You stood still, frozen. It almost felt like a heart attack from the way your heart was hammering against your ribcages. “I don’t want to lose you, Hyuck,” you quietly professed, “I thought we could work this out...”
Donghyuck’s movements were put to a halt, just for a couple of seconds, before he continued shoving his clothes down his bag.
You stood on the side as he walked past you, his natural sandalwood scent had disappeared, buried under the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. “So, this is it…?” You fretted. “For us..?”
Donghyuck stopped walking, glancing at you from over his shoulder. “It’s better for both of us, don’t you think?”
But he didn’t wait to hear your answer.
When you dared to appear at his front door six weeks later, it was the night before your departure. He hadn’t called, hadn’t sent you a single text, as if he was a ghost, only living in your imagination. But knowing it was your last chance to see him, you decided to take the first step.
Donghyuck was wearing the same navy blue knitted sweater that he wore the first time you told him you loved him. You remembered how startled he was back then, unsure of what to say as he was afraid to love someone else after knowing how it felt to have his heart shattered to pieces. That time, he only responded with a hug and a small “Thank you.” As you laid in his arms later that night, you spent every second with your eyes closed but your thoughts awake, trying to figure out why won’t he say it back? 
But when you left for work early on the next morning, one arm holding an umbrella over your head to protect you from the morning showers, Donghyuck was chasing after you in the same knitted sweater, his hair messy from sleep but soon be drenched by the rain.
“I love you too!” he shouted, breathlessly, both from running and the rush of adrenaline that pumped through his veins.
You turned around, eyes wide in astonishment, though you didn’t catch his words. “What—” You were about to run so you could shelter him from the rain, but Donghyuck reached your spot faster than you could reach his. “What are you doing? Why didn’t you take an umbrella with you?” You dropped your handbag to the ground, not caring if it got wet from the rain as you focused more on the man who was shivering in front of you. You rubbed his arm up and down before cupping his face. “You’re shivering.”
“I’m fine. I just have something to say before you go.” He broke into a tender smile, pressing his palm against the back of your hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back last night. I was afraid. Being in love with someone means you’re giving your heart for them to hold or to crush and I didn’t want to go through that pain again but—” He stepped closer, his temple nearly touching yours as he brought his head down. “I love you. I want you to know that I love you too. I don’t want to lie to myself anymore and I don’t care what’s gonna happen in the future. I just love you, so much, that both my heart and my head feel like they’re going to burst.”
And you could only stare, dumbstruck and in awe.
“Say something, please?” He begged, cold fingers caressing your cheek. “Otherwise, I might have to crawl into a hole and die from shame.”
You chuckled lightly, overwhelmed by the sheer happiness that washed over you. “I love you too.”
He seemed so relieved, almost as much as you were, and he twisted his fingers around your strands, chasing after your lips. The kiss was sweeter than honey but knowing him, even the sweetest kiss emitted so much passion, it left you breathless.
“I’m sorry, I know you gotta go to work,” he said, slightly pushing you away before his emotions defeated him once more and he slanted his lips against yours in a more frenzied manner. “God, I know you have to go,” he whispered between needy kisses. “But just—one more—”
When he finally had the strength to break apart from you, his eyes were conflicted, his thumb caressing your cheek, and Donghyuck wetted his already glistened lip as he stared at yours. “Must you go? I want to be with you today.”
It didn’t matter that the two of you just spent the entire weekend together. No amount of time would be enough to satisfy your needs for each other’s touch. So you answered him with your lips meeting his in a frantic kiss, casting your umbrella aside and it didn’t matter that it was cold, with big droplets of rain easily drenching you from head to toe, because Donghyuck was always ready to warm you up. 
“Then take me home, Lee Donghyuck.”
But you realized as he tugged you back into his arms, soft lips pressing against your temple, you were already home.
Now… That memory felt like a fantasy, one that you could only dream of having.
“I…” You couldn’t meet his eyes. “I just wanted to get the books I left on your shelf.”
He didn’t say a word, only stepping to the side to give you some space to enter. A month had passed by since he broke up with you, and his apartment still smelled delightfully like him, but instead of making you feel joy, it broke your heart even harder.  
“It’s in my room,” he said, all stern with no warmth like he used to have. You nodded, making your way to his bedroom. When you closed the bedroom door behind you, hot tears were about to spill and you tried your best not to be suffocated with the memories of the nights where you used to share your feelings with him, bodies tangled underneath the sheets, lips carving marks on each other’s skins.
You couldn’t breathe.
By the time you managed to collect yourself, you came out of his room with two of your books in your hands while you left ten more on his shelf. You didn’t need any of them. It was only a poor excuse for you to see his eyes once more before you bid your final farewell.
“I made you some coffee,” he said, leaning against the coffee table. “It’s cold outside so…”
You weakly smiled. “Thank you.”
You used to spend hours chattering behind a few cups of coffee, talking about the things that mattered and things that didn’t because everything felt special when you shared them with someone you loved.
But today, every sip of your coffee sounded louder than your voice as no words were shared.
You said you care
And you missed me too
And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you
“How are you?”
“I’m doing great,” he answered formally. It’s funny how he didn’t need spiteful words to hurt you. The absence of his affection in his sentences was more than enough to strangle you.
“Are you… still writing lyrics for Mark’s songs these days?”
“No. I’m busy these days.”
“Oh… With your thesis?”
“Sure.”
Donghyuck didn’t tell you the truth. Didn’t tell you how many papers had been written, scratched, discarded just so he could deal with the thoughts of you. Didn’t tell you the words he wrote about your pretty eyes, your pretty smiles, your kindness, your passion, your everything.
The reason why he let you go was because he knew, you would probably stay with him if he’d asked the question. He didn’t want you to have any regrets. Didn’t want you to choose him because you felt like you had no other way.
It felt like you betrayed him when you kept it a secret for months.
What else will you keep from me, if you can’t even tell me you’re leaving? Will you keep it a secret when you no longer love me the way you used to? Will you keep it a secret when you find someone new, someone better, someone who can stay to wipe your tears and hold you in their arms while I’m three thousand miles away from you? Will you pretend like everything is fine, when we’re straying further away from each other every day?
In Donghyuck’s mind, he thought you’d be better on your own. At such a young age, you managed to chase after your dreams while he was still unsure of what he wanted to have in the future. To him, you were always a step ahead. And tomorrow, you’d be taking your first step to another place where he wouldn’t have the strength to follow. 
His thoughts about you were never-ending. And he wrote so much, poured every feeling down to papers, that now as you stood before him in person, there were no more words left to be said and he could only reply your sentences with silence.
And the coffee's out
At the Beachwood Cafe
And it kills me 'cause I know we've run out of things we can say
“I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” you eventually said and Donghyuck glanced at you from behind his bangs, but never stayed for a second longer.
He knew. Of course, he did. He had been counting the days, dreading every second of it. “Take care of yourself,” he responded in a way a stranger would say to another stranger at the end of their brief meeting. “Good luck with your job. I’m sure you’ll be fine, Noona.”
Noona... He didn’t even want to call you by your name or the sweet terms he’d once associated with you. You were truly strangers now.
“Thanks.” You forced yourself to smile, nails sinking into your thighs as you brought your hands to your lap. “You too. Don’t forget to take your breakfast every day. You always skip it.”
It was your job to remind him, who used to serve fried eggs and toasts on his plate and maybe Donghyuck remembered that too because he brought his head down, and simply replied with a hum.
When you took your leave, you handed him a note to your new address. “Just… Come visit whenever you’re in the country. I’d love to show you around.” It sickened you how formal you sounded, but you couldn’t say it any other way.
When Donghyuck took the note, your fingers brushed against his, it almost seemed like the time stopped, just for a little, and he wanted to pull you into his embrace, to tell you how much he’d been missing you the same way you’d been missing him. To tell you how much he wanted to be selfish, to have you choose him over everything in your life because that was how you meant to him. You were everything to him.
Just like how you are to me.
So when he dropped his hand, tucking it inside his pocket, you knew it was really over. Finally, the word goodbye took its true form.
And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again.
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kazewhara · 3 years ago
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# — characters: zhongli, ei, murata (pyro archon), nerina (hydro archon), kusanali (dendro archon)
# — summary: a draft of the prologue of an au i'm working on.
# — tags: modern(-ish) au, visions still exist, archons are.. familiar with each other, slightly ooc ei (sorry)
# — notes: honestly, i'm sharing this mostly for feedback. this may be a kazuha-centric ramble blog, but this is still a place where i put out my writing for others to see and comment on.. so if you have the time, lemme know what you think! no need to reblog, really. i do hope you like it, though!
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“You may have awed my sister, Morax,” Ei folds her arms over her chest, tapping a manicured nail against her bicep, “but rest assured, you are of no importance to me. I do not hold you in the same regard as Makoto once did."
In case her irritation wasn’t palpable enough, Zhongli feels the hairs on his arms stand at full attention as Electro fills the room. It’s suffocating, being in a room full of young archons like this. Each of them possess far too much power for their own good. At his age, he's learned to curb his ego in favor of being an effective archon for his nation, but following his recent resignation, he's given up the hassle of keeping himself in check altogether. Meanwhile, these newer, fledgling gods were too busy peacocking about, spreading their feathers in his face in a display of dominance.
Believe it or not, he's starting to miss Barbatos. Hell must be freezing over.
Zhongli keeps his face stony as he refocuses on the matter at hand. Exhaustion and erosion combined affects him the same way age would affect a mortal -- deterioration of the mind eats away at him at its own pace while he can only hope it's not too apparent to others. Ei had said something about Makoto just now, hadn't she? Why would she be bringing up her sister..?
"Uh-oh," Murata chirps, "you've upset him." 
Great. Another nuisance. Amber eyes dart to where the Pyro Archon is seated. "Far from it, Murata." Zhongli corrects her as patiently as he can. His jaw is clenched and he can feel the beginnings of a headache blooming in his temples, but he remains steady. He looks back at Ei, whose violet eyes are teeming with vexation. "Do not mistake my silence for an answer."
"Then what should I take it as?" Ei tilts her chin up. "Is this your way of refusing to hand over the fugitive?"
Ah, right; that's what the conversation was about. Zhongli goes over the facts in his head as quickly as he can; he'd been so focused on his age that he'd completely forgotten why this meeting was called in the first place.
A few months ago — about a year, according to Inazuma's records — a young man challenged one of the Tenryou Commission's generals to a duel before the throne. He'd lost and received his rightful punishment, but before his Vision could be seized according to protocol, another young man attacked and wounded the general before taking the dying Vision for himself and fleeing the scene.
Zhongli's initial reaction to it all was admiration. Though his values align more with honoring tradition to a T, he had to admit that curiosity sparked to life within him about the young man, now fugitive, who took the dying Vision. Why would he do such a thing? Was he hoping to reignite it? To bring a Vision back to life wasn't unheard of, but to steal it before an archon? Question after question assailed his mind.
The fugitive was good at covering his tracks, but investigations found that he took up residence in Liyue, which effectively made this a point of international conflict. According to the laws drafted by the original Seven (again, Zhongli feels a tug of yearning for Barbatos -- perhaps he could help resolve this faster), if a criminal of one nation were to seek refuge in another, the nation harboring said fugitive was to turn them over, no questions asked.
Unfortunately, Zhongli had questions — too many, apparently. 
Ei saw his curiosity as a threat and deemed it a violation of the codes. Time and time again, Zhongli has seen archons misinterpret things for the sake of making themselves look good. The current Electro Archon knows better  — she'd proven herself to be more conscientious than the rest — but she isn't infallible. She's subconsciously puffing out her chest and standing up to the oldest Archon of them all, subtly hinting at war over a measly set of questions.
"I have no problem handing him over to Inazuman authorities, Raiden Ei." Zhongli laces his fingers together serenely. "But there is one problem."
A glaringly obvious problem, he thinks, but Ei doesn't seem to know, as shown by the tilt of her head. 
The Geo Archon sighs. "The definition of fugitive. Do you know it?"
Nerina, Fontaine's Archon, is quick to answer. "A person who is in hiding to avoid arrest." Her back is ramrod straight and her cerulean eyes are locked on Zhongli. She may not be part of the original Seven, but the resemblance to her predecessor is certainly there. He would be proud of who she's become. 
"Correct." Zhongli nods. 
Ei's frown deepens further. "I'm afraid I don't follow."
"He's saying," Kusanali chimes in, "that he will happily return the fugitive to you when he finds him." Emerald eyes meet amber for a moment. "If." She adds. "If he finds him." 
"Precisely." Zhongli reclines in his chair. There's no use in getting riled up over a matter such as this. There are surely more people seeking refuge from the law in Liyue, so he fails to see why this one particular man is so important, but he appeases the Electro Archon anyhow, hoping to spare himself (and everyone else) her rage. "I will inform the Qixing; they will be more than happy to put out a bounty for his capture."
The Hydro Archon raises a neat eyebrow. "Leaving this in the hands of mortals again, Morax?"
Zhongli offers the young god a patient smile. "I am retired, Nerina. This was never my problem to begin with." He ignores the soft snicker of Murata and drops his hands flat against the tabletop. "Now, will you please clear the room of your energy, Raiden Ei? It makes for a terrible atmosphere."
It is not often that he makes demands of his fellow Archons — he doesn't do it at all, in fact. But enough is enough, and Zhongli has grown tired of the prickling of Electro in his lungs. It's a good thing that they are not pure elemental beings; it would be quite unsightly if something were to crystallize with how concentrated the energy was becoming. 
Ei reluctantly obeys and settles in her chair as she regains her composure. "Forgive me." She mutters. "I was being imprudent. Please see to it that the Qixing capture that fugitive, Morax."
Zhongli hums, the sound noncommittal. He's grown tired of this affair already. "Whether or not they catch him is not within my control." He emphasizes. "Should he evade arrest for any longer than a year, then perhaps, I will involve myself. Is that okay with you?"
It's not okay with him — the last thing he wants is to exercise his divine authority on the people of Liyue once more. But, if it pacifies Ei, then…
"Very well." She agrees. "I will press again in a year." She pauses. "Or if there are any developments in that time."
Of course she wouldn't agree that easily. "As you wish," Zhongli nods sharply. 
For the third time today, he laments Barbatos' absence. Wincing internally, Zhongli drums his fingers on the table. 
"Now that that has been settled," he spares Barbatos' empty seat a quick glance, "shall we close this meeting with a glass of osmanthus wine?" 
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✧ osmanthus wine tastes the same as i-- [GUNSHOTS]
✧ nerina is just a stand-in name btw! we don't know the hydro archon's name, so.. yeah!
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julesofnature · 2 months ago
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 Goddess of the seasons, there is a time for everything: there is a time for dying and a time for rising.  We need courage to enter into the transformation process.         Creator of autumn, the trees are saying goodbye to their green, letting go of what has been.  We, too, have our moments of surrender, with all their insecurity and risk. Help us to let go when we need to do so.         Ancient Mother of fallen leaves lying in colored patterns on the ground, our lives have their own patterns.  As we see the patterns of our own growth, may we learn from them.         Birthing Goddess of misty days and harvest moon nights, there is always the dimension of mystery and wonder in our lives.  We always need to recognize your power-filled presence.  May we gain strength from this.         Nurturing One of harvest wagons and fields of ripened grain, many gifts of growth lie within the season of our surrender.  We must wait for harvest in faith and hope.  Grant us patience when we do not see the blessings.         Mother Wisdom of geese going south for another season, your wisdom enables us to know what needs to be left behind and what needs to be carried into the future.  We yearn for insight and vision.     Daughter of flowers touched with frost and windows wearing white designs, may your love keep our hearts from growing cold in the empty seasons.     Spirit of Life, you believe in us, you enrich us, you entrust us with the freedom to choose life.  For all this we are grateful. 
'A Prayer for Autumn Days', (adapted version), original by Joyce Rupp
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teacup-set · 4 years ago
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time will wash every tower to the sea
"Sakura." he says, with the sacredness of a prayer. 'That's not my name', she thinks, but there is such an aching familiarity in his voice that she swears it could have been.
FFN.
-x-
Time will wash every tower to the sea, but never you and me.
-x-
Fated
When Sakiko wakes up that morning, she feels electricity in the air. Static at her fingertips, the taste of metal in her mouth, the weight of lead in her stomach. 
Life at the hospital is too fast paced though, and there is no free moment to consider the anticipation that has been building in her chest till the end of her sixteen-hour shift. Standing over the metal sink, clawing to get out the blood that has dried in the crevices around her fingernails, she finally pauses long enough to feel the zing in the atmosphere. ‘What is it?’, she wonders, ‘Am I forgetting something?’ 
Staring in the mirror over the sink, she regards her tired green eyes and limp pink hair falling out of her ponytail. She frowns as she tries to remember if something was supposed to happen today. It feels like a half forgotten memory trying to reach the tip of her tongue but getting lost somewhere in her throat. She goes over every patient she is assigned one by one, trying to remember if there is something she has forgotten, but comes up empty. 
Frustrated, she gathers her things and leaves the locker room. Walking down the hospital hallway, she ticks off things in her mind. ‘Groceries? I don’t need to shop for another week, I think. Electricity bill? Wait no, I paid that already. What could it be?’ She feels the tingling on her skin grow stronger as she nears the hospital doors. Waving a cheery goodbye to the people at the reception, she turns the handle of the staff exit door and steps out into the dying sunlight. Breathing in the cool evening air, she immediately feels relief in her muscles and wonders if the rumbling apprehension was just a consequence of being cooped up inside all day.
She has barely finished the thought when her gaze meets mismatched onyx and purple eyes that mirror the alarm and surprise in her own, and suddenly every muscle in her body is more coiled than ever before. She feels her throat closing, her body running out of air, and the sudden clarity of her mind.
She has never seen this man before, she knows, but a voice inside her head whispers ‘This is it.’
-x-
Salvation
In every lifetime, Sasuke wonders what it will be like when he finds her again (because he will, this much he knows), but he never imagined it would be quite like this. 
Stumbling upon her in a small satellite town, where he only stopped by to post a letter. 
He was on his way out of the town when he was suddenly trapped by gravity, rooted in place by a feeling he couldn’t name growing in his chest. 
And just like that, she walked out through the most unremarkable doors, extraordinary forest green eyes finding his. 
He thinks this is what it must be like to find the face of God at the end of a pilgrimage.
-x-
Pinnacle
Sakiko isn’t religious, not particularly spiritual either, but staring at his dark hair against alabaster skin with eyes she could never forget but somehow can’t remember, she thinks she has found enlightenment. 
She feels like an eternity has passed her by as they stare at each other across the street. Suddenly he is moving, unmindful of the traffic passing by, looking every bit as bewildered as her. 
In a blink he is in front of her, eyes drinking her in like she is the pinnacle of some journey, an artist’s magnum opus, a scientist’s greatest discovery, a ghost. 
“Sakura.” he says, with the sacredness of a prayer. 
‘That’s not my name’, she thinks, but there is such an aching familiarity in his voice that she swears it could have been.
-x-
Remembrances 
It doesn’t take long for him to realize she doesn’t know who he is, not in the way he knows her, but there is still a shard of remembrance buried within her mortal soul that has transcended the same lifetimes he has. 
Why else would she bring a man she never met into her home without either of them uttering a word of explanation. 
He sits on her deep navy couch and takes in the small apartment. It feels like an out-of-body experience to see her new life reflected all over the space. Pictures with people he has never known, shelves lined with books he has never heard of, little trinkets with histories that are foreign to him. He feels a pang in his chest. 
But his eyes find her again, leaning against the kitchen counter twiddling her thumb like she did when she was nervous, dressed in blue hospital scrubs (of course she would be a healer, of course), the same vision of pink and green he has yearned for across ages, and he knows with utmost clarity that the entirety of time couldn’t chip away at their familiarity.
“My name is Sakiko.” she says, frowning.
Sakiko, he mulls. He supposes he should have expected her name would be different, but he rejoices that even now her name is the personification of spring. Even after all this time spent searching for her, he has no idea where to start telling her about him and their history.
“I’m Sasuke.” he says, deciding that’s as good a place to start as any. 
Her doe eyes widen as she swallows a small gasp, like the name had been inside her all along, asleep beneath her consciousness, and he wonders perhaps there isn’t as much to explain as he had thought.
-x-
Transcendental 
‘We were lovers,’ he had told her, choking slightly on the were.
Sakiko wonders when all her scientific aptitude her teachers gushed about went down the drain because she believes him with the utmost confidence.
He told her that many lifetimes ago they had been shinobi from the village hidden in the Leaves, that they had been on the same team, had fought in a war together, had fallen in love, gotten married, and had a child together. 
Her mind is reeling as she struggles to catch up. She knew about shinobi, but she never imagined she could be one. She had no idea where the Hidden Leaf was. She certainly hadn’t ever fought in a war. 
But staring into his clashing eyes, feeling the reverb of his voice in her bones, ‘I could have loved him’ she thinks.
-x-
Dread 
He cradles the mug of hot tea she had made for him, watching the steam rise and dissipate into the air. Sakur-Sakiko is sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table, quietly listening as he recounted their past lives. 
Through his journey recounting his first birth as Indra, to the incarnation of the Sasuke she had known, and the many lifetimes that had passed by since then till now, she hung onto every word in rapture. Frowning in confusion, smiling in amusement, even crying some tears at the many tragedies that had punctuated his and her life, but she never once looked surprised or disbelieving. 
Many quiet moments pass as he drinks his tea and she lets the information sink in. 
“How do you remember everything?” she asks him, looking helpless at her own lack of memory. 
He sets his cup down. “In every life since the one I knew you, when I turn seventeen, my rinnegan awakens and I remember every past life. Naruto awakens the Six Paths Sage Mode and he remembers too. In most lifetimes we both find each other. Sometimes we don’t.”
“Did you find him this time?” 
“Aa.” 
“Where is he now?”
“He is looking for Hinata, his partner.” 
“Oh. Has he found her before?” 
“Yeah, he mostly does. She is a descendant of the Otsusuki too, and most of the time she remembers and they find each other. Even if she doesn’t, she always remembers when he finds her.” 
Something in her expression shifts. 
“I loved you, didn’t I? Why don’t I remember?” she says, her voice sounding small. 
He feels a tectonic shift in his chest, like his entire heart has been displaced by the fears he had been trying to run from all these years. He doesn’t know how to tell her how absolutely terrified he had been that he would never find her, that her mortal ancestry meant that she was never reborn. How he and Naruto, and even Hinata, had searched for her like savages to the ends of the earth, starting over from scratch every new cycle. How on every deathbed he had longed for her, and prayed for his life to end once and for all if she was no longer on the earth. He wants to tell her what a miracle it is that she is here and he has found her, that her memory is a small price to pay because he will tell her a thousand times if he has to, but he knows the words will crush him on their way out. 
He doesn’t even realize she has moved till he feels the dip in the couch where she rests her knee, and then the embrace of her arms around him. Neither of them has said anything but he knows she understands.
-x-
Kindered
One look at him and she knows what he is thinking. She can read the terror in his eyes as clear as day: I thought I'd never find you. 
She feels the landslide in her own chest, tumbling down to her stomach and weighing her down. 
"Why did you keep looking?" She asks, burrowing her head in his shoulders, crying for a man she has loved without ever knowing. 
He is quiet for a long time and she thinks he isn't going to answer. Then he says- 
"You told me once that you knew we were soulmates when you and Naruto were looking for me after I left, and when you were combing through Kaguya's worlds to find me. You said you could find me through every age, solar system, and dimension. That there was a current that pulled you to where I was-” 
He feels her still. 
“-When I was reborn that first time without you, I understood what you had meant.”
-x-
Luminsecent
She can’t breathe. 
It's all too much. The buzz in the air all morning, the weight of ancient history, the indescribable pull towards the man sitting on her couch. He looked so completely wrecked at the hands of time, like a man who had no choice but to endure in his quest, only to pause at the finish line long enough to take in just how tired he is. He had suffered the ruthlessnesss of so many lives, looking for her. 
‘I’ve been looking for you, too’ something inside her whispers, ‘I just never knew till I found you.’
She knows she is crying, and though she can’t see his face from her position in their embrace, she thinks he is too. 
She looks over behind her shoulder to watch the spring sunrise pour in through her window and slowly inch towards them across the living room floor. She never realized when the entire night passed them by. 
Detangling her arms from around him, she settles on the couch, angling herself towards him. He lifts his head from his arms and looks at her. 
She breathes in deeply...and then begins-
“I was born in a smaller village on the outskirts of this town. I went to the Land of Earth to study medicine, and then returned here to work at the hospital. I never knew my parents, I was raised by my aunt. I like reading philosophy and history, and...I guess I still like sweets.”
He stares at her with wide eyes as he slowly realizes what she is trying to do. She carries on telling him about the life she has lived, the one he missed, and watches as he clings on to every word, like every little insignificant fact she told him gave him a second chance, another rebirth. 
By the time she is finished they are drenched in sunlight, from the same sun they sat under together in their past lives, and she feels like her skin is on fire. 
It’s a new morning, another beginning, another chance. 
“Do you want to grab some lunch?” she asks, struck by the mundaneness of the question in the aftermath of such a transcendental disclosure. 
He clears his throats and nods. 
She flashes him a smile and wonders how it pairs with her tear streaked cheeks, and parts with him briefly to wash her face and grab her keys. 
She pauses at the apartment door and waits for him to join her, only to find him staring at her with an intensity that takes her breath away. 
“I…” he begins, “Thank you, Sakiko”
Something in his words ignites something within her, and she feels like a trapeze sailing through the air but falling just short of waiting hands. 
“Sakura.” she says abruptly, “You.. can call me Sakura.” she announces. 
For a moment he looks surprised, and then smiles like he has been set free. 
“Thank you, Sakura.” 
There is magic in those words that she can feel in her soul, a certainty that surpasses the transience of life, the finality of physics.
‘In the next life, I will look for you.’ she vows, ‘but first, this one.’
They step out into the daylight.
Fin.
-x-
A very indulgent piece I wrote inspired from Samsara by @kuriquinn and Queitus by SeraphinaScribes, both of which I recommend you read. Hope you enjoy!
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esseegg · 4 years ago
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Eyeless Jack x Reader [Grounded in Our Humanity]
Summary: You’re the lover to a crumbling shell of a once bright man, now demon. You salvage what you can of him. He salvages what he can too. One stormy night, you’re reminded of just how much these efforts weigh.
Word Count: 1310
Note: gender neutral Reader. angsty / ouchie in the feelies. u-u bittersweet hurt/comfort. things are not what they seem at first.
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Rain battered against the windows. The log cabin trembled and whimpered, low and groaning as the skies’ shouts seemed to whip against its walls. With one clap came one strike. White splintered deep, cracking decades’ old bark. One of the taller giants of the forest collapsed. You watched it fall, glaring through the ever-flowing cascade down the window’s glass.
‘It’s dark.’
You clenched your hands; they were hot against one another’s clamminess.
‘Where is he..?’
Like a siren’s call, your thoughts seemed to call a shadow forth. It darted between the trees, blipping between the storm’s lashes of light. As thunder boomed, a blur leapt out into the open. The crash of the door put the skies’ aggression to shame.
“Jack!” You reached out, but he scrambled up in an instant. Ignoring you, he hastily fixed the door, fumbling with the rusty latch.
“Remember, it’s up and over,” you told him. He growled in response, hitching the latch’s knob with his claws. Somehow, that worked.
Once he confirmed that the door was locked shut, the eyeless demon turned around. You put yourself in his line of sight—if you could even say that.
“Jack. Are you okay?”
His breaths were labored. Clumsy, shaky, he lifted his mask, shoving it to sit atop his forehead. Just below the mask’s chipped edge, stringy clumps of chocolaty hue tumbled over his brow and half-lidded eye sockets. Tar had mixed with rainwater, dying his ashy skin even darker.
“Jack.” You advanced, grazing his cheek with your fingertips. In an instant, his head turned; his canines snapped. As usual, he missed.
“Jack, calm down. It’s me.” 
Your voice rang a little that time. The human-turned-demon stilled. As you cupped his face fully, he stiffened.. then relaxed. A sound of comfort rumbled from deep within his throat.
“There you go..” Smiling softly, you snaked your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his nose. It twitched, as if winter’s first flake had fallen upon it.
Slow, hesitant, Jack lifted his arms and felt for your embrace. As always, he was groping blindly, unsure of where you truly were. As his claws pricked skin—his skin—, the faintest whimper trickled out.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you murmured. “You don’t need to hug back. Just knowing you’re safe is enough for me, okay..?”
He continued to search, sniffing the air. His forehead rubbed against yours, while the tip of one of his three black tongues poked out tentatively. Another whimper tugged at your heart.
“I know..” You shushed him, resting your hands upon his shoulders. “It’s annoying. Hard to find someone without a scent, right?”
His shoulders rose and fell despite your touch. A crack ran between his chapped lips. “..there..?”
Your eyes shot open. “What?” Your nails dug in. “Jack, say that again.”
“You’re..” A pathetic growl jutted through his voice. He pursed his lips, craning his neck. “You.. You’re there…”
‘I must be dreaming…’
“Jack..!” Your voice cracked, split by the joy of your grin. “You’re speaking! Jack, do you hear that?! That’s your voice! That’s you..!”
Tears sprung to your eyes, blurring your vision. Quickly, you blinked them away, and you grabbed at Jack’s hands.
“Jack. Can you hear me? Jack, please. Please tell me you see me, or– or feel me. Jack, please…”
Your voice shuddered; your hands shook; tears rolled down your cheeks. As you stared, unblinking, the demon slowly cocked his head. The pits of blackness that you called his eyes—they met yours.
“..Cold…”
His hands still met air—chilled. But you didn’t care. He was grazing your arms, finding your shoulders, and soon enough, your face. Your tears didn’t dare stain his skin.
“Home…” The word left his throat in a low, croaky breath. “I’m.. home..?”
Choking on your tears, you nodded earnestly. “Yes! You’re home..!”
Lightning blinded your voice. The shock was fire under Jack’s feet, sending him running past you and down the hall. In haste, you chased him. Your calls fell on deaf ears, as sharp as they were, and no matter how many times you stepped ahead of him, he didn’t care—nor see. His goal was escape: escape the noise, the threat, the heart-pounding shakes and cries of nature’s torrent.
Soon enough, he slammed the second door of the night. You slipped past it as always, finding yourself in the bedroom that Jack often sought refuge in. He was already curled up on the bed, sopping wet with rain that seeped into the ratty, fraying covers.
Sighing, you eased yourself onto the bed as well. His mask now discarded by the headboard, you freely ran your fingers through his drenched, brown locks.
“Jack, you’ll get sick like this…”
The storm didn’t care. It roared again, sending the demon into yet another jump that landed him in your lap. He tried to clutch onto your thighs, your waist, anything. Any sign of a human soul within his voice was gone. All that was left were the animalistic whimpers of a decaying mind.
Bitterly, you chuckled. “You’re supposed to be a demon, aren’t you..? Why? Do they not have thunderstorms where you come from?”
Naturally, the possessor of the body couldn’t answer. You hummed, petting his hair still.
“It’s funny, you know. Growing up, Jack always had a bit of a thing against storms… Sometimes, I think that he still does.. with you, ya know?”
Again, the demon couldn’t answer. You bared a thin smile, wiping the last of your tears away.
“I think you made good progress, though… I’ve never heard you speak so much in one day.. Haven’t heard it in weeks, actually.”
His whimpers finally quieted. He had turned his head towards your stomach—the best he could, at least—and nuzzled his face in the chilled feeling of your being.
Silent, you let your gaze wander towards the object in his hands. A skull.
“Now where did you get that..?” you mumbled. He never brought back remains from his hunts.
Frowning, you looked towards the floor, where a cluttered mosaic of bones resided. Those things were months old—maybe years old. You lost track a long time ago.
“That’s a bit rude, don’t you think..?” You sported a playful smile, placing your hand over his. “You already have me. What do you need my skull for?”
White speared through the window, streaking across the bed. Jack flinched, hugging the skull ever closer to his chest. His claws clicked and scratched at the bone, striking sparks in you.
‘Does he.. recognize me…?’
Dumbfounded, you looked back at his expression. His brow was knitted in concentration, as if his sole purpose in life contained two things: the you right now and the you in his hands—the you he had scattered across the floor so long ago.
Just how did that work? you wondered. How could a demon still mourn and yearn for a human that he left for dead so long ago..? How could a demon still be soothed by the earthly lingerings of a past life’s connection..?
How dare he cuddle that skull so close to his chest—like he used to so long ago, when you still had warmth to give. How dare he play human when you both knew..–! You knew nothing “human” remained in that body of his.
The voice. The eyeless gaze. The grasping for warmth.
Your anchor to him.
A spirit.. A soul of no vessel.. clinging to the withering image of the man they once loved. 
Did love.
Still loves.
You laughed. Jack perked up at the sound. As tears lined the corners of your straining grin, he watched. Your sobs racked the walls of the bedroom, banging against the door and the windows. They were so loud, so deafening with all the pain and grief that rooted your soul to this Earth.
So loud.. that you couldn’t even hear his strangled utter of your name.
Thank you for reading! Likes, Comments & Reblogs are much appreciated <3
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jaskierswolf · 4 years ago
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This was based on an idea by @amadcat570 which I have totally deleted. Basically, Ice-skating, monsters, hurt comfort, love-confessions. Around 1.6k. Geraskier feat Ciri.
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, drowning, angst, injury, but no death.
On AO3.
____________________
Jaskier was having the best time. He’d finally been invited to the elusive witcher’ keep in the Blue Mountains. Ciri, Geralt’s child surprise, had done wonders for his friend. Geralt was actually starting to open up to him. He’d spent decades of slowly chipping away at Geralt’s walls and worming his way into the witcher’s life, and the young princess had managed it in a matter of days. If Jaskier had doubted Destiny before then he certainly wouldn’t any longer. It had also been Ciri’s influence on Geralt that had forced the two estranged friends to reunite. Ciri had been devastated to learn that Geralt was no longer travelling with the famous bard, Jaskier, and practically begged Geralt to go and find him.
Jaskier had been in the middle of teaching a class when the door had flung open to reveal a very soggy Geralt of Rivia, dripping mud all over the floor. Ciri’s head had popped out from behind Geralt. Her long ashen hair had been hidden under a hat but Jaskier had recognised the emerald green eyes of Pavetta immediately. Jaskier had dismissed his class and the three of them had spent the next few hours awkwardly catching up in the classroom. Geralt’s apology had seemed genuine enough and Ciri was an utter delight so Jaskier agreed to join his ex-former friend once more.
Geralt was warmer with Ciri around and by the gods was that doing funny things to his heart. Geralt’s cruel words on the mountain had shattered the spell the witcher held over him. His puppy love crush on his best friend and melted away after weeks of sobbing every night in his rooms at Oxenfurt. Time apart had helped him to see his time with Geralt in a new light. The rose-tinted glasses faded away and his ballads became grittier and less like a fairytale, but now being around Geralt again he could see why he had loved him so irrevocably and for so long. There was a vulnerability in the witcher that he desperately tried to hide, a yearning for acceptance and love but the fear of being known. The duality of it tickled Jaskier’s curiosity and he so desperately wanted to know more, even after all these years of following Geralt.
He wanted to know Geralt’s warmth. He wanted that daft fond smile and fucking hell he wanted to love him, even after everything.
“Jaskier!” Ciri flew towards him in a blur. She’d been training with the witchers and it showed. She’d already been a fierce young princess before the training had commenced but she’d taken to the witchers’ workouts like a duck to water. Jaskier tried to balance it out with lessons in art and poetry but the princess would rather have a sword in hand than his lute. “Jaskier, Geralt is taking me to the frozen lake to go ice-skating! You have to come!”
Jaskier laughed and set aside the book he’d been reading. He tried to stay inside the warmth of the keep but he was a travelling bard, and his natural wanderlust was starting to itch under his skin. He hadn’t been ice-skating since he was child at Lettenhove. It would be fun. Maybe he could even convince Geralt to join them on the ice, he could pretend it was a sort of date?
Nah. That would be pathetic. He was above that.
“Ice-skating you say?”
Ciri nodded with a mischievous grin dancing on her lips. “It’s taken days of nagging but I finally wore him down.”
“Well then, come on! Let’s get our coats and gloves. Sadly, we’re only human, young witcher girl. We need to wrap up warm.” ________________________
If Jaskier had thought Ciri was a blur before, it was nothing compared to her skating. She streaked across the ice like lightning. It was as if she were some kind of mythical ice spirit. Her turquoise cloak flew out behind her and her long blonde hair whipped around her face as sharp blades cut into the ice. Geralt was watching from the shore, squatting under a tree with the hilt of his steel sword resting under his chin. Jaskier was a little unsteady on his feet. The ice was slipperier than he remembered and he was out of practice.
“Come on, bard!” Ciri giggled as she skated circles around him. He hissed and stumbled, almost falling on his arse for the third time.
“Leave him alone, Ciri,” Geralt called from the shore.
Jaskier winked at the witcher as he steadied himself. “I knew you cared!”
Geralt just rolled his eyes and shook his head but Jaskier knew his friend was secretly smiling under all his grumbling.
Ciri began to show off, jumping high in the air and spinning like a tornado. It was incredible. The rhymes and melodies about the Ice Princess were already forming in his mind. His fingers flexed as he itched for a quill or his lute. He would need to go back to the shore with Geralt. He needed to write this down before the idea faded away.
“Geralt?”
“Hmm?”
“Did you bring my notebook in that bag of yours?”
Geralt sighed and pulled out Jaskier’s small leather-bound book where he scrawled most of his composing. Jaskier grinned and started to stumble back to solid ground when the ice cracked and he heard Ciri’s scream.
“Shit!” Geralt grabbed his silver sword and began running across the ice.
Jaskier spun round to see a kikimora crawling across the ice towards Ciri. It’s long spindly legs were scratching and sliding all over the ice. Ciri screamed again and Jaskier was thrown backwards. He landed hard against the ice and it cracked underneath him.
“Bollocks!” He tried to grip the ice but his gloves were soaked through and his legs fell into the icy water. “Geralt!”
“Jaskier!”
The ice was freezing and he couldn’t breathe. His fingers slipped on the ice and he fell underneath the surface. The water burned his lungs as he gasped. Fuck it was so cold. He could still hear Ciri’s screaming even through the water. He tried to swim upwards but there was a sudden pain in his head. The water around him turned red and he saw the dark black leg of the kikimora falling through the ice. He tried to call for Geralt as his vision began to spin. Water filled his lungs and he was so cold.
He was so cold…
Cold…
_________
He couldn’t be dead. Jaskier knew that much. Death could not hold so much pain. His head felt like he’d been drinking solidly for a week whilst being hit repeated in the temple with one of Geralt’s swords. His throat was burning and his chest felt tight. He gasped a shaky breath of air and winced as he opened his eyes.
“Jaskier?”
“G’ralt?”
“It’s me. I’m here.”
Jaskier blinked a couple of times. Even the dim torches of Kaer Morhen were painfully bright. He was wrapped up in what appeared to be every fur in the keep and…. was this Geralt’s bedroom?
He struggled to sit up and Geralt gently pushed him back down. “Oi,” he grumbled hoarsely.
“Rest, Jaskier.”
“How’s your bard?” Another voice asked. Jaskier couldn’t work out whether it was Lambert or Eskel. His head was ringing too loudly.
“Ciri?” Her screams, that was the last thing he remembered. They had been so loud. She must have been dying. “Where’s Ciri?”
“She’s fine. She’s with Yen now, but she didn’t get knocked out by a kikimora and almost drown, Jask. I… I thought I’d lost you. I should have been closer. I should have kept you safe.”
Jaskier was surprised by the pain in Geralt’s voice. This was the same man who had tossed him aside like a dirty rag, and now it seemed as if that was the last thing the witcher wanted. Jaskier was also suddenly aware that someone was holding his hand. He coughed as the burning in his throat tickled him and he squeezed Geralt’s hand.
“I’m alive,” he tried to reassure the witcher.
“Barely.”
Jaskier licked his lips and looked up at Geralt. His head ached behind his eyes and the room was still too bright but he needed to see Geralt. He need Geralt to see him.
“I’m alive because you saved me, and not just today, my dear. You have saved me in so many ways and so many times.”
Geralt growled and shook his head. “You were only ever in trouble because of me. You were hurt… because of me.”
Jaskier frowned and closed his eyes with a sigh. They were talking about the dragon hunt now. He could feel it in his bones. “You were trying to protect me.”
Geralt laughed bitterly. “I couldn’t even managed to do that right.”
Jaskier gripped Geralt’s hand tightly. “No, but I forgave you. It’s time you forgave yourself, my dear,” He coughed again as he felt sleep try to pull him back under. “Be here, when I wake up?”
Geralt hummed. “Yeah.”
“I love you,” Jaskier mumbled almost incoherently as the darkness took him once more.
He didn’t hear Geralt’s reply. He didn’t hear the words he’d been longing to hear since he was eighteen. Geralt knew this and he would repeat them again once Jaskier woke up, and again and again and again until the bard slowly began to believe him. For now, Geralt settled for placing a kiss on Jaskier’s brow. His heart was beating too fast in his chest for any witcher but he was a witcher in love and for once in his life he would allow himself to enjoy that feeling.
“I love you too, Jask.”
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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago
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Come Undone
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Author’s note: Well, I know I said it was coming this weekend but I decided to break it apart and post this part first. It’s another roller coaster but I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Thank you to everyone who messages me and supports me and loves this story. I am so thankful for you.  Enjoy my babies :) Thanks for the photo @prodmina, (I’ll use the other thing later in the story too) you are a doll and as always thank you @ewolfwitchwisegirl for this beautiful header! 
p.s Crazy fun fact I had no idea what Seojun’s mom’s name was so I put random initials thinking I’ll check later and fix it. Only to guess completely right! I am so proud of myself LOL 
She stands dumbfounded in his arms, unable to process the words that have left his lips. She couldn’t have heard him right, why on Earth would someone like him who had girls fighting to be his girlfriend want anything to do with her? Did he pity her that much? Was this the premise of a high school drama and he’d taken some sort of bet to befriend her? Somehow all of those options seem more feasible than him having genuine feelings for her.
But it’s her first real confession, she’s always seen others receive this and never experienced it herself. There had been some grandiose ones at school but she secretly tells herself she prefers this, just them two without an audience. it feels more intimate and authentic, as if he couldn’t wait another minute and his feelings for her overwhelmed him. Her heart is beating rapidly despite her deep calming breaths, he’s effectively turned her world upside down with just those small three words.
I like you.
She can’t control the way her heart flutters, but surely it would react that way to anyone? It wasn’t connected to the confession-er, she was merely affected because someone liked her that was human nature. It didn’t matter that it was Han Seojun, they were nothing to each other. Pity was surely clouding his emotions and she wanted no part in being there when he realized that and abandoned her, it was best not to get attached at all she argues with her traitorous heart.
Her phone brings her back to reality, suddenly she remembers where she’s meant to be right now and her father’s enraged face appears in her mind. He’d told her not to embarrass him, which meant she had to go on this date and paint on a happy face and pretend that she wasn’t dying inside. All for a man who treated her no better than scum under his shoes.
Pulling out the phone, Obligation flashes on her phone screen that’s all he was after all she’d already forgotten his name, it was of no importance to her. She doesn’t know if she should answer, still confused about her next step and while she’s ruminating a hand suddenly fills her vision and snatches the object from her hand. Twisting out of his hug she stares in shock before trying to grab the phone back, “Are you insane? Give it back!” But he steps back, putting more space between them as he holds the stolen object just out of her reach tauntingly using his looming height.
“Is this your date? Obligation.” He reads the name from the phone, venom in his voice and she’s taken back by his tone he’s hardly ever serious or cold with her. She’s seeing many different facets to his personality today.
“Han Seojun, give it back!��� She demands, stomping her feet before lunging for the item, putting a hand on his shoulder for more leverage. But she miscalculates and her face smashes into his jaw making him cry out in pain and sending her flying forward her body crashing into his painfully, he steadies her with an arm around her waist bringing her dangerously close to him. Their eyes connect as if they are magnetized, just like that day in front of her house.
“Is this your answer, princess? You sure know how to hurt a guy.” She peers at him in bewilderment before searching his face, there’s not even a fraction of a smile on his lip and he refuses to meet her eyes. Gazing off into the distance although he’s speaking to her. He seems…hurt and he’s not doing a good job of hiding it at all, it’s written all over his face and she wonders vaguely what kind of world he must live in to be able to so freely reveal his feelings? She yearns to grab his lips and literally turn his frown upside down, smiles look much better on him.
“You mean it.” She whispers in awe, the ice around her heart defrosting as his palpable pain washes over her. He’d thought she was rejecting him for her “date”. He clearly wasn’t a great listener, she had no feelings for that guy it was just another part of her world that she had no control over. For some reason she wants to explain that to him, make him understand that in another universe maybe things would be different, maybe she would be allowed to want and she would explore this but this isn’t her reality, things are not that simple. Love isn’t an option for her.
“I told you. About my world, I can’t–”
“That’s just an excuse. You have a choice Sujin.” He states his word are cold as ice, he looks livid as he puffs out an exasperated breath of air and frantically runs his fingers through his hair.
Shoving him hard she sneers up at him before shouting in his face, “What choice do I have? I have control over nothing in my life, my first date is being stolen from me. I’ll probably have to kiss him too so that will also be stolen! I can’t control anything I didn’t even choose this outfit. None of this is my choice.” It’s not his fault, and he’s the one person that’s been there for her and that makes her even angrier, why isn’t she allowed to have this? Go on a date with a boy who might care for her, why is life cruel enough that this is being presented but she can’t grab onto it with both hands?
For the first time ever, he doesn’t deflate or back off like he usually does when they get to these moments, he’s usually her safety pin pulling her back from the edge of detonation so she’s not ready for him to scream back at her, “Then choose me! Fuck all of that, fuck your father.” He lifts up her phone which has started to ring again, “Fuck this guy! Just choose me, let me be your first.” They both stand still, staring at each other the jingle of her iPhone not enough to cut the thick coiling tension and then she watches in gaped surprise as he angrily slides her phone open. “Stop fucking calling, she’s not coming. She’s with her boyfriend.” Then he slides the phone close, finally handing it back to her looking at her with those hard glistening eyes. She looks at the phone and then back at him, eyes wide as the moon.
Stupefied and flustered she stutters out, “You’re n-n-ot my boyfriend. What are you doing?”
“Let me take you on a date. Pick me Sujin.”
They stand at an impasse, neither talking following the outburst but their eyes are locked having a conversation all their own. He looks impossibly young standing there asking to be chosen, he was always so shameless with his emotions uncaring about letting them ooze out of his pores. Although he was no longer saying anything, his face was screaming at her, his eyes were kneeling before her on bended knees.
When the phone vibrates again, she's so entranced that she doesn't make any move to check it so when the cab driver calls out her name from his window, she jumps in surprise at the sudden interruption.
"Ms. Kang Sujin?" He eyes them both, glancing back and forth as if he too can feel the tension laying heavy in the air between them.
After a moments pause she finally relays the message to her mouth to speak, answering quietly, "Yes. That's me."
Seojun watches her unwaveringly, never breaking eye contact to look at the driver. He's standing unnaturally straight, all of his usual swagger drained from his body as he watches to see what she'll do.
Turning to the cab, she reaches out a hand to grab the handle, the cool metal smooth in her grasp.
Pulling it open she turns to look at him one last time before making her decision, with an expressionless face she ultimately slides into the passenger seat. The leather squeaking over her naked thighs, primly she places the little white bag in her lap. When she finally focuses back on Seojun, the hurt on his face is almost too much to witness instead of hiding it like she would he lays it all at her feet, lips twisted in a broken snarl and his fingers clenched tightly by his side.
She waits for some kind of retaliation, for the switch to flick and for him to erupt on her for refusing to listen to his plea. Almost salivates at the idea of him showing her that this was all an act, he didn't truly like her once she rejected him he would lash out and whatever this was would be obliterated. No one was that good, she didn't deserve goodness.
"Text me later then. Let me know when you get home."
His voice is devoid of any anger, calm and smooth but tinged with resignation, gracefully accepting defeat and still concerned about her well-being. Surely he was created in a test tube, there's no reasonable explanation for the way he never reacts the way she expects- the way anyone would in his situation. A sad little smile spreads across his lips and it's the most despairing thing she's ever seen, she never wants to see it again not on his face. As he moves to slam the door shut, somehow still a gentleman even in this predicament, spontaneously she grabs his hand.
"Get in."
She can't believe the words that have left her mouth but she's also buzzing, why isn't she allowed to be selfish and take something that she wants? She can't promise him forever still, her life hasn't changed that drastically but she can give him today, give herself a real first date with someone who doesn't make her skin crawl.
He looks rightfully confused, she knows that she's not making any sense. Playing hot and cold.  But her heart is telling her that she's allowed this, she has a choice and today she's joining herself. She's never done that before it's terrifying but maybe it'll be easier with him, maybe he can teach her how.
"Fuck that guy. Take me on a date." She whispers astonished repeating his own words , staring up at him for his response and the answering smile that spreads across his handsome face is enough to power a whole city. She almost beams back his happiness is that contagious.
He squeezes her gloved hand, sliding into the cab beside her their legs pressed closely together. She looks away, moving over discretely but he simply follows her boyish grin on his face, no one has ever smiled like that because of her; it's honestly mesmerizing.
Sounding thoroughly amused, the driver confirms her destination and she realizes she hadn't thought that far and she has no idea where they should go. Placing a burning hot hand on her knee, Seojun easily gets her attention.
"Do you trust me princess?"
She stares back at him, blooding pumping from his soulful tone and his skin on her skin. She's making a horrible mistake, she's sure of but she'll have regrets tomorrow. Boldly returning his look she nods mutely, forced to look away when he laughs so beautifully it makes her stomach drop. Today she does. 
"No we have a new destination."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
She looks quizzically at said destination.
"A mall?" She scrunches her nose climbing out of the cab, brushing past him as he holds the door open for her. She tries to ignore the flapping in her stomach, his constant chivalry is a welcome surprise.
"Already doubting me princess? This isn't our date, I wouldn't bring you to a mall on our first date." He sounds affronted but in a teasing way and she wasn't prepared to hear him call this a date even though she'd said those same words herself minutes ago.
"Then why are we here?"
He opens the entrance door letting her go first, she's not sure she'll ever get used to this. He hasn't let her open one door since he chased her out of the coffee, using those long limbs every time to beat her to the door.
"You don't need to keep doing this?"
Now it's his turn to look quizzical, "Do what?"
They're walking side by side now, she notices that he's adjusted his steps to match hers. She hardly wears heels and walking in them is not her expertise, she'd only worn them because her father insisted claiming women should wear them on a date. It made them more appealing to men. She ha cringed in disgust at the comment. 
"Open every door we encounter. I can open them too."
Suddenly he grabs her hand stopping her in the middle of the mall, she tries to tug her hand away no longer covered by her gloves but he tightens his hold preventing her from pulling away.
"You told me to take you on date. This is me on a date, I want to open all your doors. You picked me so just enjoy it, this is all for you." She stares at his small content smile embarrassed by his undivided focus on her. Her cheeks burning up without her permission she races away before he can see.
"Let's go."
But he's too quick, running ahead of her and walking backwards eyes scanning her face.
"Are you blushing? Was I too charming princess, did you heart flutter?" He teases her reaching out a hand to squeeze her cheeks, she smacks his hand away glaring at him.
"Shut up before I leave."
He winks in response nonplussed by her empty threat walking purposely before stopping in front of a retail store. Looking through the window she can see trendy clothes, definitely Seojun's style.
She gazes over at him unimpressed, "Did you bring me here to watch you shop?" He looks at her equally unimpressed before raising an eyebrow, "Come on princess. You have a lot to learn about me."
Still with this damn nickname and now because she hadn't reprimanded him enough it seemed it was here to stay. 
Seojun walks over to a rack immediately, pulling out shirts and putting over her figure. Nodding his head before putting the article back and moving onto another rack.
I didn't even choose the outfit. Her own voice rings in her mind remembering their heated discussion on the sidewalk and suddenly it all makes sense they're here to get an outfit for her,  something chosen by her.
"Do you like this?" He holds up another shirt, light blue with a cute picture of a puppy on the front. She sneers at him pushing the offending object away.
"I'm not five, why would I wear that?"
He shrugs at her putting the shirt in front of himself now, "What? I think it's cute. Wouldn't I look cute in it?"
He does, the idiot. His lips pushed out into a perfect pout matching the puppy on the shirt but before she can lie through her teeth and tell him no, another high pitched voice interrupts them.
"Oh! You are so handsome, I'm sure anything would look just delicious on you."
When she turns around she's greeted by a chipper store clerk, she doesn't look much older than them and she only has eyes for Seojun,  not once looking in her direction despite being right next to her.
"Is it your first time here? Do you need help? What are you looking for?" The girl rapid fires out questions and she doesn't like the way her chest tightens watching the girl blatantly flirt with him. Clutching her fists she stalks off to a random rack not wanting to look bothered by the invasion, he's allowed to talk to whoever he wants. He's not hers nor she his.
She idly lifts a white T-shirt, it's plain besides a small upside triangle design on the pocket. She knows the brand, they're part of a nonprofit company that gives all their proceeds to children homes. She searches for her size resisting the urge to see what Seojun's doing. He startles her when he peeks over her shoulder his chin almost landing on her collar. 
"You like that?" He croons into her ears appearing out of nowhere.
She twists around hoping to put some space between them only to lose her breath at the sight of him, he's removed his bomber jacket standing in a black T-shirt but that's not what catches her attention, it's the dark winding dragon weaving intricately down his bicep. The swirls of black and dark blues of the creature's body are captivating as gray smoke curls out of the dragon's mouth. "It's new." He flexes the arm, bringing it closer to her until it's close enough for her to touch. So she does. Trailing a finger from the dragon's head almost on his wrist and meandering up his arm, stopping at the edge of his shirt sleeve where the tattoo disappears. Realizing what exactly she's doing she snatches her hand away, putting the wayward appendage behind her back.
His eyes are dark when she glances up but neither of them fill the silence, she shuffles going back to the rack and absently pulling out a pair of black jeans.
"I've always liked dragons. They're larger than life and nobody messes with them."
It sounds like he's describing himself, or the persona she's seen at school. The school heart-throb with girls fawning over him and boys wanting to be him, his motorcycle, piercings and now tattoos only adding to his allure. On paper he was the quintessential bad boy but she knew now that wasn't entirely accurate. She'd seen how protective he was of his sister and how doting he was of family, he loved his family and it was clear that the feeling was mutual. And then there was the way he treated her, he was something more than what everyone saw.
Lamely she only replies, "I didn't know you had tattoos."
Thrusting his other hand into her face he shows his wrist, small letters are branded there. Initials.
GW. MH
"GW....Go-woon."
He nods agreeing, "Yeah these were my first tattoos, my mom and sister’s initials. After my father passed away I had to step up, I wanted a reminder that I had people worth living for."
She freezes at his admission, unprepared for the personal and revealing turn this conversation has taken. His face is blank but those eyes, they never lie they are brimming with emotions. She has to fight the urge to hug him, instead patting him on the shoulder.
"Your family loves you. They're lucky to have you."
They aren't the only ones but that's too much for today. She has already reached her mistake quota.
He leans into her touch, resting his head on her shoulder for only a moment before straightening up and smiling.
"Didn't know you were capable of giving compliments princess, I feel special."
She lets him break the tension knowing that he probably didn't intend to open up that much, his cheeks are dusted in red confirming her inkling.
"Don't get used to it. You hardly do anything worth complimenting."
They slip back into their usual banter, as she searches for a dressing room thankfully there's no line and she goes in. After changing she looks at herself in the full sized mirror, she tucks the edge of the shirt into her pants. It's simple but it's more her, the real her. Her father insists that they wear the most expensive clothes and she owns many different brands but most days she'd rather just dress like this and not feel like she's on an imaginary runway. Pulling the door open, she almost collides with Seojun not prepared from him to be waiting right  outside her door.
He changed too, and she blinks at him.
"We're not wearing matching outfits. Go change." She states blankly. 
He chuckles softly, straightening the already perfect shirt on his body. He added a silver chain and black boots to his outfit and she groans internally because she'd also planned on pairing her outfit with black boots.
"It just happened. I guess our style is compatible." He winks at her going to model in front of the mirror.
"Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be in the men's dressing room?" She hisses at him as he preens in the glass.
She gets her answer in the form of a familiar high pitched tone.
"Oh it looks great on you! You have to get it, it really shows off your arms." Then she watches in dismay as the other girl actually reaches out to touch his arm, Seojun smoothly moves out of her reach but the girl is adamant and places a hand on his back instead standing next to him by the mirror.
Her eyes squint in annoyance, he might not be hers but the outfits should have made it obvious that they were something to each other but the girl was choosing to turn a blind eye. She stops holding back. This is all leaving a bad taste in her mouth. Interjecting easily, she moves the proprietary hand on Seojun's back with a flick of her wrist. 
"Do you accost all your customers like this?" She deadpans at the other girl, watching her eyes widen before her face morphs into a tense smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
"I didn't notice you there. Is she your sister?" The store clerk defers back to Seojun as if dismissing her completely and in the corner of her eyes she sees  the hard glint of his jawline, he doesn't look pleased. That gives her the courage for her next action.
"Do you usually buy matching outfits with your siblings? We're on a date. We don't need your help as you can see, we already have what we need." She motions between them and their matching outfits, watching the other girl who looks ready to scream before turning to Seojun with beguiling eyes, as if begging him to deny her words. 
He wraps an arm around her shoulder, pressing their sides tightly together. The other girl looks at them in disbelief before he answers in his deep voice, "You heard my girl. I'm off limits."
She tells her heart to calm down, this is all a show after all. It was about the principle of the matter, she didn't appreciate this complete stranger ruining her first date. It wasn't about Seojun in particular. He wasn't hers, she knew that. They both watch as she stomps off, angry blush on her face and retort under her breath. Sujin's tempted to follow her and hear what she's saying under her breath, but she collects herself. Turning to Seojun she complains, "This is how you act on a date? Flirting with other girls?"
He gasps at the accusation pressing a hand against his heart, "I never flirted. I told her I wasn't interested when you left the first time. I didn't think you'd be the jealous type though. "
She opens her mouth to deny that claim despite all the evidence proving otherwise but he beats her to it.
"I like it." He ruffles her hair before walking off.  She stands there in gaped mouth surprise, how dare he? After picking her jaw up off the ground, they finally join the line, clothes folded in their arms. Deciding to change back into them after ringing up the order. 
They get ringed up by another store clerk, when she tries to pull out her credit card Seojun looks at her like she's personally offended him.
"I'm paying. Don't bother arguing, this is me on a date."
"You two are so cute! I love your matching outfits." The cashier coos at them missing the cold glare from her co-worker in the distance.
As they leave the store she waves snidely at the other girl, even allowing Seojun to rest his arm on her shoulder to put on a even more convincing show.
She knows she's being petty but the other girl started it, she's just finishing it. Maybe next time she wouldn't flirt with boys who were with other girls, she was teaching her a life long lesson.
"You're something else princess."
As soon as they get outside, the store clerk no longer in sight she pushes his hand away. They need to redraw the line in the sand he's getting too comfortable touching her and calling her that nickname. And she might be getting too comfortable hearing it.
"That's enough. Stop calling me that." She expects him to be annoyed or hurt by her switch in attitude but instead he's nodding his head fondly with his hands held high, "I make no promises about that P. But I think it's time to get this date started."
She groans staring at this back, she'd completely forgotten to make him change and now everyone was staring at them in their matching outfits. That stupid flirtatious clerk had derailed her thinking.
"Hey! Seojun, let's go to another store. You need to change!" she yells chasing after him.  ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
He groans as the sensor sounds out, loud noise blaring in his ears signaling that she's hit him again, he only catches a glimpse of her before she's barrel rolling behind a pillar and out of sight.
She'd totally played him, adamant that she'd never done laser tag before. He should have known when she came after changing looking far too comfortable with the gigantic imitation gun in her hand, her hair scooped into a high ponytail. It was admittedly distracting, bringing attention to the long regal line of her neck. He noticed how the instructor paused mid sentence upon seeing her, his eyes lingering a little too long for his liking. Easily he moved between them, dwarfing her with his larger frame staring the guy down until he snapped back looking away while rubbing his neck.
She hadn't noticed the interaction too busy aiming her weapon and asking questions, he had second guessed bringing her here wondering if this was too childish. It was there first date after all and he wanted there to be others, was this thoughtful enough? But watching her roll and dive for cover he knew that he'd made the right choice, even if she was currently destroying his ego.
He had immediately fell for her tricks, running to her aid when she tripped and fell whimpering in pain on the ground. His heart had stopped as he raced over to her, her name on his tongue but before he could utter the word she rolled over, smirk on her face as she aimed perfectly in the middle of his chest, gaining the most point value. She stuck her tongue out before hopping up and disappearing into the darkness. He had stood there shocked clutching at his chest. 
"Do you really have time to day dream? I don't know if you've noticed but you're losing. Badly."
She calls from somewhere and he shakes his head at her mocking comment, the trash talking has been steadily increasing with each shot she landed. He should have expected this, for her to be competitive. He's seen it at school sometimes that grimace on her face when she saw that she was second again, glaring at Suho before shoving the ranking away.
He wishes he could say that he's been taking it easy on her but he hasn't, he's been trying his damn hardest to no avail, every time he spots her she dodges him easily, before reappearing behind her and making his sensors go off. He's not the most competitive person but losing this badly is simply embarrassing, a small part of him wants to impress her.
Okay, a large part. Shoot him.
He groans when just that happens, she shoots him and that's it. Game over. 
Winner flashes across the front of her camo vest. But when a radiant smile spreads across her flushed face he wonders who is truly the winner.
Cocking an eyebrow he whistles, "You sure you've never done this before?"
She tries to hide a smile but fails epically before admitting the truth. "I might have done this before, once or twice."
"You're a game shark. Taking advantage of poor innocent souls. Is this anyway to treat your date?" He feigns hurt pouting dramatically, bottom lip wobbling. She rolls her eyes at him, ponytail swishing as she skips away before calling over a shoulder, "Even if I told you, you would have still lost. I'm just better than you. Did you even hit me once?" She taunts, looking far too attractive with that snotty look on her face. He must be going crazy.
"You're such a brat. " He concedes enjoying this version of Sujin too much to take any real offense to her insults.
"Rematch?" She purses her lips before aiming right at his head, with one eye closed.
"You're on." She accepts his challenge before running over the counter to purchase more time, he trails after her knowing that he's lost much more than this laser tag game. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
She kicks his ass a second time, he does manage to land one shot on her but it only makes her even more competitive and it's a flurry after that, his censor ringing off every few seconds. It's a short rematch, her notices how other guys seem mesmerized by the beautiful girl with the near precise aim. She starts attracting quite the audience and he decides they've been here long enough. This isn't the end of their date after all, he doesn't want to waste this time.
"Alright, you win ninja remind me never to do this with you ever again."
She stands triumphantly before wondering off to change.
The ponytail is down when she comes back out, thick dark curtain over her shoulder. His fingers itch with desire but he controls the urge, he's seen what she's capable of. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ She shakes her head as he pulls out her chair but he sends her a charming smile, he wasn't joking when he told her this was how he acted on dates. Maybe it's because he only has his mother and sister but he has always respected woman immensely, doing these little acts makes him feel like he's cherishing them. His mother has never opened a door in his presence so this feels natural to him.
They're in a quaint diner with dim lighting and cushy oversized chairs, she looks around curiously taking in the minimalist artwork and splashes of color on the wall.
"Do you bring all your dates here?" She asks all nonchalance as she thumbs through the menu, surprising him when she immediately goes to the dessert section eying the different cakes. He sits in disbelief that she has a sweet tooth, she's just full of surprises today.
"Sujin." He puts iron into his voice grabbing her attention, when their eyes are connected he speaks again, "I think you know me better than that. Don't make this cheap."
It's obvious what she's been trying to do since they left the laser tag center, put as much distance between them as possible. Every once in a while her phone vibrates and he can see her tense up before declining the call. The reality of what she's done has set in and now she's putting back up her fortress. Brushing off his compliments and implying that everything he's been doing is all part of some first date playbook, he's trying not to be offended but it's hard to wrangle in his emotions. 
It always is with her.
They stare at each other until a server comes to take their order. She orders a chocolate mousse cake that sounds like something his sister would love- cloyingly sweet and diabetes inducing- and he orders another slice to bring home to her, maybe he can use that to bribe her and hear more about how Sujin saved her. For himself he gets an egg sandwich with avocado and bacon, starving now after his long day. He'd gone to work straight from school and fatigue is catching up with him.
"I'll be right back." He announced abruptly, the chair screeching as he excuses himself from the table.
He splashes cold water on his face, waking himself up and clearing his mind. What will they do after this? It's clear that she's dreading what comes next. Nothing has changed, she still has to go home and he knows they'll be repercussions to today. He can't let her face that alone but getting her to agree to him being there is going to be near impossible. The trust between them is still thin, like the first layer of ice that covers a frozen lake and he's terrified to rupture it.
What is he supposed to do?
Trepidation grips his mind as he makes his way back to their table and as he draws closer, he notices that she's completely distracted, arms balanced on the armrests as she stares out the glass, lost in thought and a million miles away. She looks beautiful, if he was a poet he would write sonnets about it.  He has no idea how this day is going to end, feels dread swirling in his stomach as well and he pulls out his phone angling it as he stands in front of her. Wanting to capture this moment, tattoo this image in his mind. 
Click!
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The loud notification of his camera breaks her reprieve and anxiously he starts to staff the traitorous device in his pocket but not before she spots him.
"Did you just take a picture of me?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He answers innocently, sitting down and taking a huge bite of the sandwich that was delivered while he was away. Her chocolate cake is still perfect, thick and sweet the aroma wafting across the table. She was waiting for him.
Grabbing her fork, he stabs a huge piece of the decadent treat lifting it to her mouth.
"What are you doing?" She retreats attempting to steal her fork back but he weaves out of reach, laughing at her grumpy face.
"Open up princess." He tries to feed her again but she turns her head away, he has to catch himself before he smashes it on her cheek. He gets the feeling that wouldn't have ended well if he didn't have fast reflexes.
"Seojun."
"Princess."
"Don't call me that."
"Open up."
"No!"
She's fully glaring at him now, arms folded across her chest and he stares back impishly before formulating a plan.
"Fine. Suit yourself."
She looks surprised at his quick acceptance of defeat before he starts to bring the cake to his own mouth, exaggeratedly opening his mouth wide to consume the delicacy and instantly she lunges across the table looking ferocious, her mouth open wide in anger and finding an opening he twists the fork and pops the cake into her mouth.
Her face is thunderous, anger filling every line before the flavor explodes on her tongue and she freezes mid lunge looking like a chipmunk with her full cheeks and wide eyes. She slowly chews savoring the bite before finally swallowing. He waits for her reaction with bated breath.
"How was it?" He laughs at her dark stare, passing the fork back over the table. Almost too eagerly she grabs the utensil, shoveling more of the sweet treat into her mouth. Silently answering his inquiry, in minutes her plate is empty only a smear of icing remaining.
He chews his own sandwich deliberately.
When his phone starts to vibrate he doesn't detect it at first, too lost in the puzzle that is Kang Sujin; laser tag extraordinaire with a sweet tooth the size of Seoul. A gentle smile washes over his face when he sees the caller ID and he makes a rash decision that may or may not get him in more trouble. Declining the call, he goes into the contact and chooses FaceTime instead waiting patiently until a face pops up.
"Seojun, where are you? Your sister said she saw you at work earlier and you were on your way home. Did something happen?" His mother’s concerned voice rings out from the speakers. 
Glancing subtly over at Sujin he sees her freeze before realization lights up her eyes and he knows she's going to bolt. Not giving her a chance to flee, he reaches around the table grabbing her chair and tugging her over until they're side by side. Both of their faces sit in the small square on his phone and his mother gasps at the sudden addition to your conversation.
"Oh! Who's this? Are you out with friends?"
"Mom, this is Kang Sujin. The girl I like." He states proudly, smiling brightly at the screen. 
His mom's eyes become comically wide, glancing back and forth between the two of them before she waves back excitedly. 
"It's a pleasure to meet you my dear. I hope my son is treating you well." His mother has that look on her face that she always gets before she scolds him, clearly seeing the other girl’s discomfort. Sujin is unmoving next to him, a pregnant moment passes before she blinks twice and realizes that she's being spoken to.
"He is. It's nice to meet you too." Her voice is tinier than he's ever heard it.
 Worlds different from the person who looked ready to stab him over chocolate cake.
His mother's eye immediately soften at her quiet voice.
"Well I won't keep you. Make sure she gets home safely and don't come back too late. It's supposed to rain later." She warns them both waving softly before ending the call and the screen goes dark.
"What are you doing?"
She's furious. He can hear in the cadence of her voice, she's vibrating with it.
"Why would you do that?”
"Why are you so angry?" He rises to her bait, knowing this was the inevitable end to their near perfect date.
"You had no right to do that. I don't need to be anymore involved with your life."
A slap across his face. That stings and he can't control his reaction, recoiling like he's been hit.
"What was supposed to happen after today? Why did you agree to this? Was this supposed to get you out of my system?" He barks at her. He’s so annoyed this is happening in the middle of a diner, like those couples you always see and judge praying that they'll take this somewhere else.
"It was supposed to get you out of my system!" She screams back. 
There's the truth, the ugly truth. It's not different from anything she's ever said to him but hearing that now after confessing to her feels like salt being poured into his wounds. Or acid behind injected into his veins. 
"What about my feelings? I like you."
Harshly she stands snatching her purse and throwing down a few bills on the table, with a tone filled with venom she looks him dead in the eyes, unwavering. "Don't." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It wasn't supposed to end like this, his heartbroken face is frozen in her mind.
Don't.
She was selfish, a horrible selfish bitch and she used his feelings for her. That's what he would think and that was best, he needed to face the reality that one stolen moment didn't make her life brand new, she was still the broken mess he'd stumbled upon in the rain. No matter how vehemently he tried there was no mending her she was beyond repair.
But it had felt nice. Being with him, feeling like a normal teenager on a date. For a minute she'd forgotten her reality, when he called his mother it was the wake up call she needed. She wasn't the girl you brought home to your mother, at least not for him. The woman looked so much like him and she could feel their affection for each other through the phones, her own mother has never looked at her with such devotion. Jealousy crawls at her insides, she'd forgotten she was a monster until she saw them. She couldn't drag another person into her storm.
He doesn't call. She thought he would, expected him to chase after her and demand more. She stares through the window of the bus watching the raindrops slide down the glass, his mother had been right. Taking out her phone she types a message.
I'm sorry.
Staring at it, there's so much she's sorry for but mostly crashing into his life. If only he'd ignored her like everyone else this could have all been avoided, he would have been spared. She leans back in her seat with a deep sigh, message unsent.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
She's drenched standing outside her house, pacing back and forth pulling at the skin between her fingers. Her father has to know by now, but he hasn't contacted her once. It feels like the calm before the storm despite the torrential pour of rain around her.
The click of the front door opening makes a shiver race down her spine. Her father stands ominously in the doorway, face set in stone.
"Where have you been!" He screams, booming voice cutting through the fall of rain.
She instinctively takes a step back but he grabs her by her soaking shirt collar and slams her into the brick wall, she cries out as pain surges through her body. "You little bitch, I told you not to embarrass me." He hisses into her face, spit landing on her chin.
"Honey, stop! You're outside somebody will see!" She hears her mother crying from the doorway and she almost laughs at the reasoning, it's okay to beat her to pulp as long as it's inside where no one will see. It was all about upholding appearances.
"You shut your mouth! This wouldn't have happened if you raised her better!" He turns to sneer at her mother and she capitalizes on his momentary distraction, twisting out of his hold and running down the sidewalk. For a moment she thinks she's free but then a sharp pain shoots through her head and she's painfully yanked backwards by her hair. She shouts at the burst of intense pain, hot tears streaming down her face.
He drags her by her hair before shoving her into the wall, her skull bounces off the hard surface and white starburst explode behind her eyelids.
Squinting through her tears and the water soaking her face she sees her father with his fist drawn back. She waits for the blow, clenching her eyes shut. If she's lucky this will be it, it'll all be over.
But the moment drags on and the punch never lands and then she suddenly hears a voice she never expected.
"Get your fucking hands off her!" 
She's barely able to lift her hand and watch as her father is shoved powerfully, falling to his knees from the impact. Rubbing at her tender scalp she peers up at her savior only to see the furious face of Seojun, his hair is matted to his scalp and he looks murderous.
"You came." That's all she can get out before her world goes pitch dark, he was here. He was truly here even after everything she said. Why? Why was he always there? 
Her last cognitive image is him running frantically towards her with his arms outreached, his lips are moving and she wishes she knew what he was saying but there's no sound and then there's nothing.
Darkness. 
72 notes · View notes
amesstm · 4 years ago
Text
Just Smile
Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x Reader
Warnings: angst-ish? I don’t know what’s considered sad anymore honestly
Word Count: 1453
A/N: Okay I’ve been in love with soulmate prompts because I wish soulmates were an actual thing. Being Type A, that’d be really nice. I do wish I could give credit to whomever created this idea but this is a really old draft.
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In this world, soulmates were a reality. Appearing as a tattoo wherever on your body, it was always your soulmate’s last words. For you, the words along your collarbone were “bury me next to her.” So, you knew that you’d die before your soulmate would. Another reassuring thing was that it seems like you’d meet them. Unfortunately, some never did.
Stepping on U.A.’s grounds, you wondered if you’d meet your soulmate here. As you sat down in the back of the class, you noticed a boy whose hair was split in half between white and red. Your eyes met his and you greeted him with a warm smile, “My name’s (L/N) (F/N). It’s nice to meet you. I really like your hair.”
“Thank you. My name is Todoroki Shoto.” His monotone voice presented how socially awkward he was, but that made him all the more endearing to you.
That was the beginning of a budding friendship. Overtime, Todoroki gradually grew out of his shell. He would share stories with you about his mom and once took you to meet her. Todoroki, who didn’t really like to share his cold soba, was offering it to you if you even joked that you were hungry. Soon, the smile that he showed only to you was shown off to everyone else.
Thanks to you, he even came to the dance.
You came dressed in your (f/c), lace gracefully wrapping around your top-half, and tulle making the rest of the dress. The dress flattered you, but left the tattoo bare. After years of reading those words every day, you became accustomed to them. They may be a reminder of your sad fate but they also told you that you’d meet the love of your life.
“L/N-chan, are those your soulmate’s words?” Kirishima asked, with a soft frown and gentle furrowing of his worried eyebrows. He scratched his head, unsure if it was even polite to ask.
Bakugo clicked his tongue, “Why would you ask her such a thing?”
“Oh, it’s fine Bakugo,” you waved your hands in front of you. You turned to Kirishima. “They are; but it’s fine.”
There was a slight look of pity that the fiery boy gave you. “Sounds like a you problem.”
“Baku-” Kirishima started, but then the blonde started walking away. “Sorry about him, L/N-chan.”
You only offered a shrug, “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
His eyes still betrayed worry, but you gave him a reassuring smile. Until he left, at least. You stalked your way to the food table. Maybe some bread would absorb the burden of the universe. It was always like this, where suddenly a bout of depression from the circumstances would consume your thoughts.
Then, a voice broke through the dark cloud. “Hi, L/N-chan, would you like to dance with me?”
Todoroki stood in front of you, like a light in the dark. His hand was extended towards you, with a sincere smile plastered on his face. You beamed, putting on that mask once more. “I’d love to!”
Surprisingly, he was a great dancer. You thought you’d have to be the lead, but he had no problem lifting you in the air and swinging you around like you were weightless. Time seemed to slow down, like you two were the only ones in the room. Your head was resting itself against his chest, and you could hear the soft beating of his heart.
“(L/N)-chan, can I ask what the words on your collarbone are?” Todoroki asked cautiously. He added, “I’ve never seen them before.”
“Oh yes, it’s my soulmate tattoo. They say bury me next to her." You answered, trying to maintain a small smile.
His eyes softened, “Mine say please keep smiling."
Your eyes drew down to the floor and you chuckled, “Seems like we both have some pretty sad ones.”
“Understandably so since they’re the last words,” Todoroki reasoned, rational as always.
You nodded, “It’s rather unfortunate. I wish we could figure out who it is earlier.”
“I don’t know if I’d want that,” he stated. You looked up at him, a questioning look in your eyes. “I just don’t know if I’d be able to accept it if it’s not whom I wanted it to be.”
Shrugging in response, you offered, “Maybe it just takes a while. After all, the universe is in charge and we’re just the pawns. I think it’s the universe’s way of telling us to be patient and wait for good things.”
Todoroki smiled, “Then we’ll enjoy this moment.”
And it was a nice moment.
~
Shigaraki managed to crawl out alive with All for One. As his decay spread across the city, you tried to save a bus full of kids. However, a building above you crumbled on top of you. The children managed to run out but they cried aloud when they saw your body.
Todoroki screamed and ran forward, trying to block off the decay with his ice. He managed to uncover your body and carried you far enough away. His eyes desperately searched for a medic, but there were none. Managing to make it a safe distance away from the decay, he rested you down against a tree.
“Will you be okay?” He asked, a pang of sadness entering his voice.
“I will be, Todoroki-kun,” you coughed out. Your vision was blurry from the dust of the building. You reached up to touch your head, and saw a blur of red on your hand. As you examined it silently, you heard Todoroki choke. “Hey, hey. None of that is allowed here, okay? I told you, I’ll be okay, Todoroki-kun.”
“No, you won’t be!” He replied, choking on his tears. His hand gripped onto yours hard, clinging for life. For your life. Most dying people would cling onto the living, searching for some of that life they yearned for. But it was like he was trying to reverse time, trying to bring back the feeling in your lungs, and trying so painstakingly to give you some of his life.
“Yes, I will. Look into my eyes. I can’t see well but I’ll know if you aren’t looking at me in the eye,” you sternly spoke. Reluctantly, two different colored eyes met yours. “Todoroki-kun, promise me you’ll become the top hero. If I can’t, then you must in my place.”
“Not without you,” Todoroki responded. His eyes were looking into yours, but you knew that he wanted to look away.
“You have no choice. Remember what I said? We’re just the universe’s pawns.”
“Please don’t say that right now,” he pleaded. He put his head into his other hand and squeezed your hand even harder.
“Todoroki-kun, we’re both so young. If I’m really dying right now, then I wouldn’t want you to be sad,” your hand reached to brush your fingers through his hair one last time. Then, like a burning force summoned these words, you stated, “Please keep smiling.”
There. Those words. His head looked up, and saw your lifeless eyes. There was a small smile on your face, too. For the first time in his life, Todoroki felt everything at once. Fury at the villains. Heart wrenching sadness that you were gone. But peaceful happiness in knowing that you were the one. A shaky hand closed your eyes, and he hugged you tightly one last time.
~
“Uncle!” The young Todoroki Rei cried. She was a complete lookalike of her grandmother and her father, Natsuo. She clung onto her uncle’s body as he laid on the hospital bed. “Please don’t leave me!”
Todoroki Shoto grimaced from her weight but then smiled, “It’s fine. Everything will be okay.”
“No, it won’t be!” The teenager sobbed, tears streaming down her face and cheeks reddening.
“Look into my eyes,” he asked. “I know what my job entails, this is just in the fine print. In my will, I left to you my agency which you can fully own when you are a pro-hero.”
Rei’s lip shook. “B-but, you won’t even see me graduate!”
“Yes, I will. I just won’t be there in person.” Shoto stared into her eyes, now red from crying. He remembered the feeling of graduating. Accomplishment and celebration flooded him, but it felt so hollow when he remembered you weren’t there to be with him.
She shakily took a breath and wiped her eyes of tears. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Her uncle smiled, “There’s only a few things I’ve ever wanted. I’ve perfected my cold soba recipe. I’ve given my mom her own house. I’ve become a top hero... But it only meant so much when the person that meant so much was gone. So please, bury me next to her.”
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rpmemesbyarat · 4 years ago
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RP meme from the Baali Clanbook V2 in "Vampire the Masquerade" Part 2 of 2
"Look at the world around you. No, truly look. Do you see it? The entropy slowly eating away at the fabric of existence? The world is dying."
"Existence has always teetered on the brink in some way or another."
"From the coming of prophets and gods to the turn of the millennium. Mankind has always found some way to turn the metamorphosis of life into an “end of days” scenario."
"It's not hyperbole."
"All things must come to an end. Even our universe."
"We can either fear this new existence or we can embrace it. I know which I choose. What will your decision be?"
"I find humanity both fascinating and boring."
"I find humanity both fascinating and boring. They are creatures who have risen above their state as pure beasts in the wild. They have domesticated the world, bringing it to heel under the boot of technology and enterprise. They have tamed the lightning and created weapons of such incredible potency that they could end the entire world with the push of a few buttons. But, at the same time, they cannot even control their own impulses."
"I do love seeing the hope in a victim’s eyes slowly die."
"We need to talk about vampires."
"They are all in their positions due to back-alley deals, dirty deeds, and betrayals that they fear will one day topple them."
"They are afraid. Afraid of losing power."
"Power is a cruel master."
"Do not put yourself out there in a manner that draws unwanted attention."
"Those who are worthy of your knowledge should seek you out, not the other way around."
"Use what you know to twist their desires to your own ends."
"Utilize every secret desire and urging until your “clients” are nothing more than puppets on your strings."
"Above all, however, don’t forget to clean when guests come to call. It’s embarrassing to have a bloody carpet."
"Arrogance will be the gap in their armor that you can exploit."
"They wounded ego and regret."
"That’s a level of fucked up I can’t wrap my head around."
"So easy to guide around by their rage."
"Get over it already."
"They’re not corruptors unless you want to be corrupted."
"It’s bargain basement degradation at best."
"All good rites have some semblance of pageantry to help build up psychic energy for ritual release, sure. But when you perform the rite more for the pageantry than sacrifice or offerings? You’ve missed the point."
"The beautiful ones have this fucked up perception that they are icons of style, grace, and tact."
"The punks think of themselves as whirlwinds of creative destruction."
"After all, I want to see the world break out of this nascent shell of physicality and witness the birth of a new universe."
"So, I can get behind wanting to push past pain and physical limitations."
"These. . .things will not think twice about skinning you alive and making you part of the furniture. And honestly. . .I can respect that."
"These fucking guys."
"There comes a time in everyone’s life when they look at the world around them and wonder; “Is this it? Is this everything that there is?”
"Life, if we are honest, is nothing but a series of disappointments."
"My youth was spent chasing some phantom of purpose. Some reason for us being here, for going on, day after day, living."
"My desperate pleas were met with unyielding silence."
"We all wander through the world, clinging to half-promises of something greater."
"We will find the bliss of enlightenment only after the trials of our world."
"Why was everything we did destined to age and rot?"
"There was no blissful release. There was no epiphany of understanding. No moment of realizing my place in the universe."
"We are, each of us, insignificant."
"We don’t get rich off hard work. Luck and heritage define who rises to the top."
"We don’t find enlightenment as we grow older, we only find bitterness and fear of encroaching death."
"We race to accomplish something. . .anything, that will live on after our deaths."
"I thought sensation would provoke deeper understanding. It does not. It only burns bright, then fades quickly, leaving a person yearning for the next instance of fleeting bliss."
"There is nothing. No great reward awaiting the dying. There is no great paradise for the enlightened. There are fading memories of life and the swirling maelstrom of oblivion."
"Why would anyone want to deny themselves anything knowing that, in the end, they are only fit for utter destruction and darkness?"
"Take every moment of disappointment in your life. Every hardship. Every heartbreak. And then realize that none of it matters in any form in the end."
"Fuck the universe."
"Fuck every lie and every false promise of salvation or of some “great reward” that never comes."
"Enlightenment is a trap."
"Fuck every self-styled guru that peddles street corner bliss and a side of eternal understanding."
"This universe is a fucked -up failure."
"This universe is a fucked -up failure. An experiment with no principal investigator at the helm. Let’s scrap it and start something new. Something where we can make our own purpose."
"It is the only choice we have —to grasp our destinies and forge something new out of the corpse of the old."
"The end is coming and there is no stopping it. But. . .we can accelerate it. We can end this torturous existence and craft something new and meaningful from its remains."
"We are not destroyers, nor are we heralds of destruction. We are idealists seeking to bring purpose to existence. We are scholars burdened with the horrible truth that this universe must burn so that something new and pure can take its place."
"Evil. I hate the word."
"To the point, however, the word “evil” is such a catch-all that is, at its core, quite meaningless."
"We are the midwives of eternity, here to see to the proper birth of what is to come."
"Evil may be a word that can fit us, but to the darkness, isn’t the invasive nature of light evil?"
"I do what I do out of simple necessity."
"“Good” and “evil” are terms for children."
"They are just as “evil” as we. They simply lie to themselves about it."
"I think the truth lies between these tales."
"While the stain of grievous sins can color the auras of most, yours, for some reason, remains pure and innocent."
"You may not realize it, but your very essence sings with dark power."
"You understand the state of the world. You understand how it hangs so precariously between collapse and a great rebirth in darkness."
"In these dark, twisting visions, the future is revealed in flashes of blood-soaked fate."
"They will still be a missing person and be mourned, but they will be, effectively, simply considered another statistic and efforts to seek out justice for them will fade."
"While friends and family still remember the individual and their name, any efforts to seek out justice for them or to search for them cease after the ritual is performed."
"By sharing the affections of your damned patron, you can grant infernal powers to others."
"The allure of evil can draw in the curious like a moth to a flame."
"What is your most shameful secret?"
"What do you desire the most?"
"Whom do you secretly despise?"
"The most valuable advice, then, would be to act subtle. Be calm. Act comfortable."
"Akkadian script is simple, but apparently too difficult for you to count in."
"The quest for the next horizon has always haunted your mind."
"No matter what you were doing, no matter where you were at. . .there was always the allure of the unknown calling out to you."
"The allure of history and understanding what came before was simply too great to ignore."
"You were ravenous for knowledge."
"By the end of the week, you were no longer alive."
"Cultures died out across the world. Why?"
"The great puzzle of the universe lays before you. "
"The ancients knew secrets that would sear the minds of today’s scholars."
"The old gods are my strength. They are my shield."
"Mankind has forgotten where its oldest, bloodiest rites came from."
"Your traditions were handed down to you by your parents, and to them by their parents."
"Old deities that were converted into demons and devils by Abrahamic religions were once sources of inspiration to the world."
"While you have dabbled in mainstream paganism, practitioners these days ring hollow to you."
"Their worship more out of desperation than any true passion."
"It wasn’t for you."
"You caught the attention of something in the dark."
"There is a strength in the old ways that it seems many have forgotten."
"What you are doing is not evil. It is necessary."
"Do stop squirming. It ruins the effect."
"Something was always broken inside of you. "
"Your questions cut through the niceties of social decorum."
"You weren’t ignorant of the suffering you caused. You just didn’t care."
"They love their work and the pain it inflicts."
"You? You honestly adore the look of terror ."
"After all, what is the point of your work if you do not enjoy it from time to time?"
"You know the best ways to draw out the psychic energy for a proper sacrifice."
"They will come. Have no doubt of that."
"You simply didn’t understand the need for religion."
"You were out of place."
"There is a calmness that comes from knowing the end is inevitable."
"You are existing on the precipice of a new universe and you know this."
"Your faith sustains you."
"Aren’t you a beautiful soul?"
"It was an easy lie."
"You have been an apt pupil."
"I am here to do the Devil’s work."
"Life hasn’t always sucked."
"Being homeless creates a new kind of resentment."
"People walk by, either with contempt or pity in their eyes for you. Both are an insult."
"In your anger, you lashed out, you reached for something new that could explain all the inconsistencies in the world."
"Beings from beyond time? The hell does that even mean?"
"You are the devil’s own."
"Satan was a model of freedom from tyranny."
"Your soul is foul and beyond redemption."
"Power belongs to those who are daring enough to wield it."
"You became the popular one, the one in demand, who’s very expression could elevate someone or dash their hopes."
"So, you arranged the death of your beneficiary and inherited their wealth."
"They admired the grace and style with which you brought your targets to heel and slowly destroyed them."
"It only took a week to catch your eye."
"The world may be destined to die a slow, agonizing death, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have your fun wherever you can find it."
"Who are you to judge?"
"You are only as good as your last rumor."
"It’s the thrill of the hunt that drives you and exhilarates you."
"You don’t understand. I know what breathes in the dark. I’m trying to keep it asleep."
"You were always looking for a place to fit in."
"The desire to fit in is always powerful. It can guide our actions and even our thoughts. It can shift our perspective, causing a realignment of our core values."
"Once you found some semblance of purpose you could identify with—and one that made you out to be a hero fighting back darkness, you embraced it wholeheartedly."
"You will keep doing what you know you must do."
"If they only knew that you were working to protect all of them. . .maybe they would be more grateful."
"You have a subtle contempt for modern society."
"You understand the desires that drive people to extremes. . .and you have no qualms about twisting those needs and urges to your ends."
"Everyone you meet is a tool to be used, a potential sacrifice, or a threat to be neutralized."
"You dress to impress—always in the most stylish manners according to what is in fashion."
"Use every environmental factor to your benefit when possible."
"Make good entrances and silent exits."
"You are a cutthroat negotiator when you need to be but know that sometimes the appearance of defeat can serve you better than a clear victory."
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