#a few scintillating in the darkness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silentium-symphony · 14 days

Text

A Lamb in Wolf's Clothing (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) hey ya'll! i'm so sorry for going MIA for a few months--as some of you may know, I have just recently graduated from college, so there are a lot of big changes happening in my life right now! i appreciate your continued patience with me :) this fic was commissioned by the lovely @mistressofdeathsblog! thank you for giving me such a fun prompt, I had a lot of fun trying smth new and I hope you enjoy it too!

before you start reading, please take special note of the cw below. also, please remember that this is not a healthy relationship you want to emulate and is written for the sole purpose of entertainment. if you are in a relationship that strips your autonomy and you feel unsafe bringing this issue up to the offending party/parties, please reach out to someone you trust. there is no power in staying if there is no freedom to leave. stay safe out there.

and ofc, since this is smut, minors do not interact with this piece.

cw: dubcon, afab!reader, ooc!link since i highly doubt Hylia's Hero would be so life-alteringly possessive of their lover, tp!link, reader being chased, reader being held against their will, blood, tight spaces, swearing, name-calling, dumbification kinda??, cunnilingus, doggy, mirror/standing sex

wc: 5k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Sweat and blood dribbled down your forehead, stinging your eyes with a salty, metallic bite. Thorn-kissed hands grasped and blindly waded through thick patches of bramble. The dark, bristling whips that surrounded you worked every exposed piece of skin into a raw, bloody mess quivering from the forest's cruelty.

You couldn't care less.

The birds overhead guffawed at your efforts as splotches of pale moon danced mockingly, titillatingly along the cold earth. You chased every moon patch with the frenzy of an escaped convict a morning away from freedom.

Because that's what you were, really.

The beginnings and ends of thoughts knotted and frayed into each other, flurrying your head into a cohesive garble. Just how big was this forest? It looked like a sprawling mess from the fortress you were locked up in, but it was absolutely impenetrable now that you were in the thick of it. It was as if the very woods were enchanted to keep you from ever escaping.

A ring of pain hooked the topside of your foot, propelling all of your momentum downwards and towards the forest floor. You couldn't even scream before you bashed your cheek through a thin layer of crusted mud. The cold soil caked your flushed cheeks--the only shred of relief you've felt since your mad sprint to freedom.

Your spine slinked up into a curl--a pathetic attempt to get up, to begin your chase again, but your battered body refused to endure further abuse. (E/C) eyes flitted about you, trying to interpret the shadows that danced and weaved through the trees.

Running in this state would be pointless. You dug your forearms and elbows to crawl towards an ivy overhang that promised hidden refuge and curled into as tight of a ball you could muster. The silky white dress he gifted you had been ripped past recognition. The airy fabric that once brushed your ankles now clung tightly to your blood-laced thighs, soiled from the toils of flight. You pulled your legs closer; your lungs fought for precious breath against your pounding heart.

What a shame. If only it weren't beating so fast, you might have heard the crack of a single twig located too close for comfort.

From several paces into the unseen was a pair of blue eyes misted over with sinful hunger; your quivering, shorn form was scintillating to watch and feasted his mind with imaginations more heart-racing than the last. Your blood, sweat, and tears mixing with your natural scent proved to be the most tantalizing olfactory cocktail, scattering his thoughts into overdrive.

He hated the rush he got from seeing you like this--lost and confused without his guidance through these nested thorns, yearning for warmth and safety he knew he could provide (and had been providing since you stumbled into his castle that fateful day).

Why did you leave him? Was he not enough for you? But he'd given you everything! Everything! Freshly made home-cooked meals, tailored clothes that hugged your form, a bed warmed by him, his body...

He could still feel the soft plush of your flesh sinking and dimpling in his hands as he thrust into you with the faux tenderness of a starved man. Your beautiful eyes locked with his own, only leaving to disappear into the back of your head. Your mouth agape to let the cutest sounds escape...

If you were happy with him, why were you leaving him?

Not waking up to your face smooshed into his pillows, not beholding you in all the pretty silk and ribbons he had lying around, not fucking you in every position you could possibly think of, not spending every waking moment with you...

Why, he'd rather die.

If it made you happy, he'd allow the ambrosial drippings of freedom to bead your lips.

If it made you happy, he'd let you delude yourself into thinking you were far enough from the castle to be away from him.

But only for now. Link prided himself on his chivalry and patience, but even that was growing thin from your incessant attempts of escape. He was going to have to show you why it was such a good idea to stay here with him, forever and ever and ever.

You were nodding off now, it seemed. The way your head kept dipping and rising in a futile attempt to stay wary was so adorable, he just had to ravish you right then and there! He had barely managed to stave off his intrusive thoughts as he stalked closer to you, still clinging closely to the dark cloak that hung off twisted branches.

You saw something shift from the corner of your eye; your neck snapped up and a croak clawed out of you.

"Who's there?!"

Silence.

Why was it so quiet?

Had it always been so quiet?

Where have the birds gone?

A familiar silhouette emerged from the trees.

"L-... Link..." Your throat, parched and scratched from heaving the cold night air, rang a voice unfamiliar to you.

Azure eyes that once beheld you with all the love in the world now stare back with deadpan coldness. Words need not be exchanged here; his presence alone blew any hope of escape in the next breeze that ruffled his fur.

A calculated step towards you retreated you further into your little alcove, a prayer that the ivy could take you in as one of its own on your lips. There was no telling what he was thinking, or how close to the edge he was. But that look, that hunger.

That familiar, craved look your body knew too well pulsed anxious tingles through your fingertips.

Another step.

Then another.

Another.

Finally,

He was here.

You could feel him, all of him--his hot breath against your arms, his fur bristling against your thigh, his warmth freezing your blood where it ran. You hadn't realized how much you were shaking until you heard the rhythmic shifting of ivy buzzing into your ear.

He pressed his head into your lap, prying you open to make way for him. And you sat there, obeying him like the perfect little doe you were. As he lazily dragged a tongue across your thigh, lapping at the dried blood that crusted your flesh, he looked up. Relief, adoration, love. That stifling comforting, possessive protective obsession love that he had so readily wrapped you in the moment he met you. For a moment, he looked like a lamb in wolf's clothing.

So many thoughts swirled inside you, your brain numbing to prevent overstimulation. But amongst the chaos, a single thought backdropped every complicated emotion you were feeling.

He had found you.

Had it not been for the blood drumming through your ears and temples, you would have thought time had frozen in this purgative state. He was splayed atop you now, seeming to rest from his hours-long stalking; he wasn't crushing you, but it was clear he had all the control in this dynamic. Any undesirable shift away from him, to preserve your own personhood, would most certainly have led to a 'gentle' nudge toward him.

A single cobalt eye lazily cracked open after a million years ticked by. His piercing gaze, though fringed with some life, made it abundantly clear that your race to freedom was placed at an indefinite standstill. He had never once snapped at you, but the fear lodged in your chest informed you not to test him further.

He hauled himself up, joints locked from inactivity popping to life as he arched into a long stretch. His carefree pose hinted at obliviousness--borderline forgiveness--to your impertinence, but you knew better.

Link never forgets.

He eyed you again with a sort of child-like excitement that twisted your gut into a sickening pattern. His tail arced to and fro, painting his excitement in broad strokes. He wedged his snout between the small of your back and the wall and firmly pushed you forward, scooting you a couple inches toward your prison home.

You knew better than to anger him.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Link's skillful navigation through the thorns was unimpeded by your clinging onto him. It had taken hours to get to where you once were, but a quarter of that time for the wolf. The gloomy castle you had called your home for months (years?) broadened into view until you could clearly see its spires puncture through occasional clouds. The moon, basking in its celestial sovereignty, jeered at your return.

Link slipped through a tiny crack in the iron-clad door, made by the wolf confident in its tracking and retrieving abilities. You slugged off him with practiced movements; a sound akin to obscene magic asundering flesh preluded your captor's transformation. Grisly black fur gave way to sand-blonde hair; the worn, patchwork shirt which heralded his humble beginnings as a rancher ran taut against the back you had spent several minutes clambering onto.

He continued looking ahead unblinkingly as you idled a few paces behind him, your chest constricting and mind frenzying with murky anticipation. Your nerves, frayed from adrenaline and brain-altering fear, now swam in the heavy nothingness of silence; you were a breath away from weeping before a tenor tone disturbed the still.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Silently, you both moved through the halls, paying the torchlit shadows the special type of attention one gave to the mundane in moments choked with awkwardness. Worn, freshly torn hands bunched the hem of your dress until your knuckles whitened. A part of you wished to never reach your destination, preferring thickened stillness over the unpredictable inevitable. You rounded a familiar corner and gathered the shreds of your sanity to brace yourself for whatever may come.

The sullen wooden door gave way to the man's heave and you followed him in. A large bathroom decorated only with the essentials filled your view. As Link ran the faucet, your eyes absently glazed over the rickety plumbing he had installed to transport hot spring water to the tub. For the first time since his transformation, he turned to you.

"Strip."

His clear, authoritative tone cut sharper than any thorn that had shredded you. Eyes downcast, your fingers wrought the straps of your dress further, further down your shoulders. Your skin burned from your clammy fingers; you blamed it on the steam that had begun filling the corners of the room and ignored the heavy, heated stare placed on you by the male.

Link followed your dawdling, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt and lifting it to reveal a stomach sculpted by years of farm work and adventuring. The straps of your dress coiled close to your elbows before settling by your ankles. Your hands immediately scattered to cover your exposed parts as Link finished undressing himself, his fully erect length blurred by warm mists and (eventually) a deftly wrapped towel.

He reached over to squeak the faucet shut; the comforting, monotonous lull of running water now halted to scant droplets. After pulling out the small basket of rags and soap, he sat on a bar stool and beckoned you with a lone finger.

"Come here. You're filthy."

You shuffled out of the shredded dress and forward, keeping your eyes trained on the end of the tub where he sat. The wanton desire for a hot bath waived your concerns over the situation, dulling your fears enough to throw a leg over the edge and sink everything but the top half of your face below the water.

The warm panacea cloaked you in an elixir of ease, and a satisfied groan unintentionally lapsed your lips; your hand figuratively slapped over your mouth when the air honeyed into something...

Sinful.

Link dipped a small bucket into the bathwater and slowly poured it over your head, calloused fingers expertly combing through knotted, crusted strands. The hardened skin tenderly brushing the back of your neck jolted heated memories to the forefront of your mind.

You could still feel the harsh, almost desperate grip laced in your hair as he pounded you from behind, panting sweet promises to give you more for the rest of your lives. Your face, buried in his pillows, blindly nodded along to the specifics of what he had said, your mind too blurred to focus on much else aside from your umpteenth high of the night.

The warm water felt like a cold deluge and a noticeable shiver ran through you. Soapy hands stopped caressing your scalp.

"(F/N)?"

"H-Huh?"

"How about we play a little game?" Link murmured suddenly, absently twirling your locks in his fingertips. Had it not been for the taut fingers interweaved through your hair, your surprise would have been more apparent.

"What... What game?"

"A little game similar to hide-n-seek." He started languidly, as if savoring every vowel that lisped his tongue. "If you can evade my capture until dawn, I will guide you to the forest's edge so you may leave. However..."

Rough fingerpads traced up the side of your bicep as darkened ears caught your quiet, involuntary gasp.

"If I catch you... You're mine. Deal?"

Throat tightening and heart palpitating, your mind fought to keep its last ounce of calm as your captor's hand circled to your front to cusp and knead your--

"What's the catch?" You breathed, somehow managing to divert your attention away from Link's sinful reaches.

"There is no catch, but there are rules." He pecked your cheek, his lips curving into a soft smile that thinly veiled iller intents.

"You are allowed to hide anywhere in the castle grounds and use whatever means necessary to hide from me, so long as neither of us gets seriously injured... The moment you step foot in that forest, I will claim you where you stand. Is that fair?"

Was this a trick?

A sick joke meant to dangle tonight's failure in your face?

Surely it was... But what if it wasn't?

His steady stare that peered shamelessly through your soul conveyed a degree of seriousness and sincerity required to make a truthful statement.

"How do I know that you won't go back on your word?"

"I have never lied to you." He gritted his teeth. "Can you say the same?"

The genuine hurt masking his eyes ached your chest, but the tiniest shred of dignity you had left netted the apology that almost escaped your mouth.

"Is there anything else I should know before I make my decision?"

"No. I have told you everything you need to know and will uphold my end of the deal. The final decision is yours."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Moonlight masqueraded through the gaping windows, streaking drab grey pillars with hints of alabaster. The halls which you have called home for what felt like time immemorial now crowded your vision with a foreign bite, sinking into your flesh an unnerving uncertainty around every corner.

Your neck swiveled on all axes, one eye trained in front of you and the other separating the benign from foe that hid in every dancing shadow. Bare feet pattering against olden stone filled the gaps in between each racing heart beat, drumming your ears in a never-ending symphony of chase.

Legs aching, quaking, begging for proper rest are promptly ignored, outcompeted by the more urgent matter at hand.

Your final gambit for freedom.

You cursed under your breath as you ascended a spiraling staircase, your lungs burning with the rage of a thousand suns from heaving in the cold, arid air. The stone floor kissed knicks into the soles of your feet as you skidded around a corner and madly dashed down the hall, shifting down a narrow crawlspace that branched off from the main hall.

Whispered hisses and curses bounced off the tightening walls as rough-hewn stone jagged into your skin, reopening recently closed wounds from the brambles. You could only pray that Link was far enough away to not pick up on freshly streaked blood.

A familiar carpet--the one from the main hall--filled your view and you slowed your shimmying into a momentary pause. You fought to see through your grimace to peer around the corner and hoped that your heart wasn't beating loud enough to mask the signs of your stalker.

All good...?

You scooted out of that uncomfortable position and ducked towards the exit.

The private gardens opened up to you. Trails of ivy found residence in the cracked grey of decayed walls and the fountain was spewing the most delicious water your parched throat had ever seen. You circled the mini courtyard, your frenzied mind shunting the garden's haunting aesthetics in search of a practical hiding place. To your right was the more open space of the main courtyard, and to your left were the untrimmed topiaries of Hyrulian heroes commemorated only in flora.

Streaks of morning were just beginning to tip the horizon.

Your feet teetered toward the right, but a certain non-human shadow slinked past the threshold. All color drained from your pallor as you scurried around the topiary's wide base and hid behind the cloister's stone pillar. The sounds of flesh ripping and reanimating shot through the air; tears began to freely flow as a carefree whistle ambled closer to you.

"My, my... It's almost daybreak. I must find my beloved soon, or else I'll lose her forever."

The sky was just beginning to tinge a magenta-red.

"Is she... Hiding by the door?"

Boots clicking against stone rang like a departed's dirges. Your clammy fingers dug into the side of your face--a feeble attempt to muffle your whimpering.

"Is she... Behind these topiaries? No? Hm... But I'm getting close, aren't I, (F/N)?"

All strength, all hope, had been sapped from your body; your knees locked and buckled.

"Oh? Have we always had a little walkway back here? What a wonderful surprise! I know my darling would love it here."

Your vision darkened.

Leather nestled softly into your face as the heat of another poured and mingled with the cold stone pressed to your back.

"Guess who?" He sang.

You felt all your muscles simultaneously release their tension; your legs folded in on themselves, but secure arms hooked them under and hoisted you bridal style.

As you were carted inside the dark fortress, the morning sun greeted you in its soft-rayed glory.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The stale castle air flooded your lungs as your body was unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. A hand tightened around your wrists and hot, agitated lips locked with yours before your brain could register the cotton plush of your sheets. His other hand feathered up your thigh, learned fingers grazing all your tender spots and teasing your thoughts into a foggy mix of want.

Your figure writhed uselessly under him as he flattened you further into the bed, using his full weight to keep you pinned where he wanted. The hand that carried out its sinful ministrations below shot up to seize your cheeks. Rough fingerpads bruised the softer flesh as he craned your neck to make way for his lips, flushed with a feral red and coated with soft proclamations of domination.

"You're mine... All mine..."

Hot breaths ghosted the surface of your neck, tickling a heated whine out of you. Your needy noises hitched into a gasp when you felt moistened lips lock onto your skin, suckling and teething the flesh into discolored patches. Rich vermilion fringed with a sinful violet bloomed below your jawline, trailing down and darkening with each claim closer to your chest.

He yanked the noisome dress down, exposing all of your chest to him. The snaps of cloth ripping from its handles and the sudden whip of cold air across your most sensitive parts pierced a jolt through your body. He pulled away to admire the shades of purple and red marring your fair complexion, a visual reminder to the dust haunting old halls and courtyards lost to time that you were his, and his alone. A lone tongue swirled around an irritated bud.

Trembles quaked through you--from heated anticipation or disgust, you were unsure. He hooked his fingers back into your cheeks and pried your face to look into his own. Sky-blue eyes, which once beheld you in crinkled happiness, had dimmed into a hazy navy clouded with lust.

"So pretty... My gorgeous, gorgeous girl."

Soft lips brushed your forehead, ambled down to your nose, and finally settled on your lips.

"My good girl."

Lips warmed with depraved whispers silenced around your bud. Starved suckling backdropped the more apparent whimpers scratching your throat, dredged in pleasure with a dulling edge of resistance. Scarred skin delicately cusped your mounds, tweaking and flicking your perkiness until it was a rosy red.

Your growing sensitivity stung tears into your eyes. Achy hands, now free from his grasp, grappled onto sinewy shoulders but did little to convey genuine discomfort. A deep groan purred from his chest as Link balanced your sore bud in a soft knead between his teeth. A pop filled the room.

"Let me see those eyes."

Your eyes wedged open to see blown-out blues taking all of you in. Your heart pounded a flush into your cheeks and christened an unholy flame to spread through your core.

"That's it... Now watch me..."

He dragged his body lower and lower, his eyes unwavering from yours for even a second. Steady hands balled into the collar of your dress and tore through the silk, the symphony of rips bouncing off the walls and knocking coherence out of your head. His lips matched the pace of the ragged unveiling and chased progressively exposed flesh with soft kisses, down, down, and farther down. Feverish breaths along your inner thighs sent chills up your spine.

"Watch me as I make you cum for me."

Hands gnarled from knighthood knotted into the delicate lace separating him from his prize, tearing it apart with ease.

"Link, hold--ah!"

Your eyes shot to the back of your head as your mouth gaped into a silent 'O.' An orchestra of colors, conducted by a madly indulgent maestro, symphonized into a crazed, otherworldly experience. His tongue coiled and stretched into you with the practiced precision of many amorous nights while his thumb circled the space around your clit, teasing the nub until agony. It was only a matter of time before your impassioned gasps and pleas competed with the downright sinful wetness Link lapped below.

"Tell me you love this--that you love me."

"Link, please! Just give it to me please, please, please...!" The top of your head rolled further into your pillow when the painful prick of a pinch shot too much for too short a time.

"Don't look away. Don't you dare look away, you filthy slut." Deft fingers plunged into you until pleasure fried your brain. "You'll cum when I tell you to."

Your whines and whimpers hiccuped into full sobs for release, whistled with pleas and promises you both knew you wouldn't keep.

"You'll love me forever, right? You'll be my good lil' cock slut forever, right?"

"Yes! Yes, I promise! Please Link, just let me cum already, please!"

You damn liar.

He pulled away, coldly gazing at the weeping, quivering, gasping mess of his beloved.

"Link...? W-why did you--"

"Your heart may have forgotten, but your body remembers..."

His sweet lips, tinted with a hint of bitter longing, moved with yours in a desperate, crazed dance. Every lust-filled, haggard groan ripped from his lungs masked the quieter crack running up his heart.

The bed creaked from the sudden redistribution of your weight as he spread you on all fours. He aligned himself to your entrance and, in a single motion that he had done hundreds of times, completed you. A wail, colored in pleasure and streaked with pain, contrasted Link's blissed-out groan. Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes; each droplet slipped down your cheek in time with his frenetic pounding until it had thickened into a steady stream.

He wasted no time in his pursuit for pleasure, hitching his pelvis to your ass, pulling away, and slamming back in with the gentleness of a starved wolf ripping into a lamb. His fingers dug crescents into your hips as he adjusted himself, propping one of his legs up to angle himself deeper and faster into you.

He was stretching you past your limits, and every thrust was accompanied by a heated flash of pain. Your upper half sunk towards the bed as he moved your hips higher, closer to him. Helpless (E/C)s stared at the creaking bedpost while your whitening knuckles dug through the sheets clumped in your hands. A salty mixture of tears and saliva pooled on your pillow as honeyed cries haunted your walls.

"What, is my princess not having a good time?" He jeered, reaching over to give your engorged clit a cruel flick and your ass an even crueler slap. "What does my baby want me to do to her? Huh? What do you want me to do to your tight pussy?"

"L-Link, It hurts! It's too--!"

The side of your quivering hips slammed into the mattress and forced you on your back. Your face snapped into the pillow when his writhing tongue replaced his thick cock, tonguing and lapping at your dripping pussy as if your ambrosia would be the last thing he was to taste. He pulled out and spat on your entrance, pressing his tongue flat against your pussy and swiping up towards the clit that he coiled.

"Mmph... Fuck, I love you... Give me more... Gods, give me more."

A bruising ache pressed into your hips as his frenzied circling spurred faster, faster, faster. Pleasure dizzied your senses towards a dark void; the familiar knot in your stomach that ached to unravel popped with the abrupt re-emergence of Link.

"Mm, tight as ever... How're you feeling, my dove?" He husked, ragged breaths encapsulating the shell of your ear.

"Too b-bi--Link, you're too big!"

"Shhh... You can take it. You've taken it hundreds of times. C'mon, squeeze my cock like a good girl."

"It's so--Link, you're stretching me out, I need to--"

"Not yet. I'm not done fucking you yet." He swiveled you back on all fours and pounded you into the mattress, your cries and pleas be damned. Slender fingers snarled through your tresses and strained you away from the pillows that held your screams.

"When I'm ready, I want to watch you cum all over my cock." His erratic pounding slowed for a split second, enough time for a certain thought to come and go. "I want you to see it too."

Your abused cunt finally had a moment to breathe and process; if only your brain had that same luxury.

The bed sighed a relieved groan as Link crawled out and wrapped his arms about your lower abdomen to hoist you up. When it was evident that this pathetically limp curl was the best you could do, toned forearms hooked under your knees and spread your legs in the most vulnerable position you've ever been in. With a huff, Link brought you front and center to the mirror. You both watched breathlessly as he lowered you onto his slicked cock, sinking every inch into your gummy walls.

"Fuck, you're so tight... I need you, (F/N)..."

His crazed pistoning began once more; the sensations that ransacked your body were unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. The tip of his cock so easily, so effortlessly rammed into your sweetest spots; every thrust he slammed into you turned you into a shamelessly shaking, overstimulated mess.

"Look at you," he hummed darkly, "look at all the sin running down your legs."

Link's voice was so far away now. The way he kept disappearing into your sopping cunt and your juices dribbling over your thighs consumed your every thought. The only tangible you could feel was the building pressure coiling in your gut, tightening with each passing second.

"So beautiful... So tight... Don't you want to do this forever? Hm? Don't you want to be ruined by me forever and ever?"

His teeth sunk into your neck, adding to the carnal collection and ripping a hoarse cry out of you.

"You're my good girl, aren't you? My good girl... You're all mine--all fucking mine."

Veins marbled his arms and forehead as he nuzzled into your neck, tongue tracing the edge of every bite. The labored grunts that occasionally wheezed out of him, along with his stuttering hips, signaled that he was teetering closer and closer to the edge. Hooded blues stared piercingly into your own, weighed down by mindless intoxication. His lips brushed a flame through the curve of your ear.

"Look at me..." He purred. "Look at me and confess your lust to me."

A shattered cry, followed by a wave of profane heat, collided with your system. Winced eyes lolled to the back of your head while you spasmed and twitched in still arms. Your violent clenching and knowledge of your release strained a guttural growl through Link's chest as he spurted his cum as deep as it could go. Thin, white threads coated your walls and trailed out your still-plugged hole until drips of sin stained the stone below.

Link tripped to the foot of the bed, his body folding into the sheets the second his foot made contact with the wooden post. With arms wrapped comfortably around you and the familiar presence of your spent lover, you passed out the moment your body recognized blissed finality.

As you commenced your near-immediate foray into the realm of dreams, a familiar voice--soft yet broken--rang through your last layer of consciousness.

"Sleep well, my dove. If eternally precarious possession is the closest thing we will ever have to love, I will gorge myself on it."

125 notes · View notes

icedmetaltea · 1 month

Note

do you still write in general or have all your works been removed from ao3 and halted?? I just found An Eye for an Eye and I maybe horribly obsessed with it hahah

I still write from time to time but for myself or random fandoms that I don't share on here- the ones I have shared for this fandom have been orphaned but can still be accessed here but if u found that I'm assuming u know that lol

Writing these days just makes me feel horrifically self-conscious so if I do share I like doing so on accounts where nobody knows me and I have no expectations to live up to ya feel? ; u ;

Here is a lil doodle and a jealousy snippet I was gonna write at some point if it helps ya feel better *patpat*

(Set at some point in the future, Y/n's gotten enough trust to be allowed in Eclipse's enclosure without supervision and so Kai's joining them to scope the place out + do some plotting since it's too loud for mics to pick anything up above the ambience of water and ironically it's safer for them to talk in here than anywhere else in the facility lol... also it's been so long since I wrote the fic I can't remember if Eclipse is blind or not so let's assume so)

"Wait up!" you barked, running up behind the man so fast you nearly ran into him headfirst as the doors automatically closed behind the two of you.

"Watch it, will you? And I'm working on a tight schedule here, okay? Not all of us are coddled by staff..."

"Coddled?! I'm given the lofty privilege of being used as live bait and you-"

"So this is what it looks like, huh? I haven't been in here for a while." He gave a whistle, turning to you briefly before walking further into the room. You followed close behind him, holding back your boiling temper for the time being. "Last time I was here, the water was filled with algae and god knows what else."

You shrugged. "Yeah. I guess... It helps now that I clean Eclipse regularly. The rest of staff was too chicken to so much as touch it."

"I still can't believe you do that." He wandered closer to the edge of the water, staring down into the dark abyss. Far down, the mer began to rouse from its usual afternoon slumber, scintillations dancing deep below as it slowly moved. "And I can't believe all you've managed to lose so far is an eyeball. You have all your limbs intact, as far as I can tell."

"It was scary at first, sure, but then I realized it was literally just a big fish I was dealing with. One that ruined my albeit shitty life. I was getting money out of the deal, so..."

You kicked your foot absentmindedly, watching the dark outline ripple through the water, approaching the surface.

"It's all bark and no bite."

As if on cue, the surface tension broke as the mer surfaced, the water rippling and floor shaking with the force of its purr. The sound was cut short, though, its head tilting in curiosity as its fake smile stared at the two of you.

"Are you sure about that...?"

The second it heard Kai's voice, the flat side of its face slanted upwards so its teeth were on display, pulling up into a snarl. A low growl rumbled through the floor and up into your legs, making you wobble slightly.

"Hey, what the hell?!" you were quick to say, throwing up your hands in disbelief. "You choose now to throw a tantrum??"

Its tongue flicked out in what you now knew was its own weird way of sniffing the air, and soon after the sound of its growling grew louder.

"Shit!" Kai hissed, "Didn't you say this was safe?"

"Of course it's safe! Hey slimebrain, will you shut up?!" You took a few confident steps forward and punched a hand over one of its tendrils. It relaxed at the contact, a tiny purr mixing in with its incessant snarling. "You're makin' a big idiot of yourself in front of my... acquaintance."

"Oh, so that's the title you're giving me?" He regretted opening his mouth, as the next second Eclipse lurched towards him, snapping its teeth worryingly close to his face. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw it hadn't ripped the flesh off his nose or something. Yet, anyways.

"Okay, okay!!!" You jumped in front of him, tripping and landing on your ass, but at least it made the mer stop moving. "What's gotten into you? You've been behaving well the past couple of months and you chose today to get all pissy? Honestly..."

Eclipse made something akin to a huffing sound, then unlatched its jaw just enough to grasp the back of your collar. It dragged you, flailing the entire way, away from Kai, only stopping when half your body was submerged in water.

As soon as you opened your mouth to in protest, it the large, flat underside of its jaw hovered over you, blanketing you in shadow. One set of its hands came to hold you in place, ignoring your cries of anger as it continued to growl.

"Okay, I'm just gonna... go..." Kai finally said, a tremble in his voice as his footsteps became more and more distant till the sound of the doors opening and closing made you realize he'd left.

"That pussy..." you spat beneath your breath, though you were much more angry at the mer than him. "You!! You ruin everything!"

As soon as the man was gone, Eclipse's mood seemed to flip like a switch, growls bleeding into those grating attempts at chirps and purrs it never quite seemed to translate into something that didn't sound like a dying whale.

It was proud, perhaps even gloating, you realized as it turned its head completely around to peer down at you with a false grin. Water dripped down on you, and you also realized your freshly-laundered clothes were now sopping wet.

#Answer tag #Metaltea Talks #Eye for an Eye #Metaltea doodles #Metaltea writes #mer au #*gives anon a bowl of pasta*

63 notes · View notes

cuckoo-on-a-string · 2 years

Text

Younger Gods: III

Younger Gods Master List Dream x fem!reader

Chapter 2

Dangerous magic and old friends lay the foundation of a fate foretold, and Morpheus spends too much time in the library.

Warnings: language, briefly referenced suicidal ideation, self-neglect/harm, extreme sleep deprivation, Dream is still his own damn warning

A/N: First - THANK YOU ALL. Seriously. You're amazing, I love you, and I'm working on catching up on comments. Now for the bad news. Ya'll broke chapter 2. Like, literally. I went to edit the tags list and Tumblr said nope. Imagine a small, family car with dozens of people stacked inside and hanging off the roof. It just won't go. The chapter also didn't show up in the story tags, at least whenever I checked. So...

*The taglist is officially discontinued*

I am making that up with something special, though, so make sure to read the A/N at the end!

Chapter 3: Darker Fates

“Gracious, darling, you look dreadful.”

She collapsed into the rickety café chair. Across the laminate table sat her oldest friend. Her one friend. And she immediately wondered how much to tell him. Only two days stood between her and her involuntary trip down memory lane, between her and the Sandman. She’d seen dark birds from the corner of her eye once or twice, but they always turned out to be crows and magpies. That didn’t mean Matthew wasn’t following her, of course.

She hadn’t escaped the consequences of her actions yet, and she didn’t want to drag one of the precious few people she cared about into the muck.

“What happened to your courtly manners?”

“What happened to your face?” He shuddered delicately, burying the real concern she caught in his sharp grey eyes with dramatics. Signaling the waitress behind the counter, he added, “We’ll need another pot of tea, please.”

The woman blushed and hurried off to fill the order. Doubtless, he’d been flirting while he waited. Damn silver fox. Although he was over one thousand years old, he wore it well. His greying curls and tidy beard looked playful rather than unkempt.

“Do you have what I need?”

He nodded. “Tea’s on it’s way.”

“Not the damn tea, Taliesin.”

The twice-born bard sucked on his teeth, glancing from the front windows to the back counter. Only spilled coffee stains and a sticky smear of jam occupied the other tables. He acted like this kind of deal might draw attention, and he had good reason to think twice about handling magical items in public, but no one cared what two people meeting up at two in the afternoon in a cheap café shared over a cup of tea.

He slipped his hand into his coat pocket and retrieved a small, stoppered bottle. The liquid inside moved like tar, oozing up the side of the glass as Taliesin angled it in the light. Even caution couldn’t banish his instincts as a showman.

“Understand.” He looked her in the eye, his scintillating smile packed away for a stone glower. “This is a cruelty, not a blessing. Now, I won’t ask why you need it. I wouldn’t insult you like that. But it’s my responsibility to tell you this is a bad idea.”

She could think of worse.

Before she could explain herself, the waitress pranced over with the tea. She set the pot between them and provided a fresh cup and saucer. Taliesin grinned, winked, and sent her on her way again with a word of thanks.

“One day your philandering will get you into trouble, old man.”

He sniffed and poured the tea, adding the slightest splash of milk, just the way she liked it. “I never begin something from which I cannot safely extricate myself. And, besides, a little teasing will make her day.”

He slid the cup across the table, and she wrapped her hands around the porcelain to drink in the heat through her chilly palms. She couldn’t seem to stay warm these past few weeks. Anyway, tea wasn’t what she’d come to drink.

“Will it keep me awake forever?”

“Nothing is forever. Nothing you can taste, touch, or smell.” He sounded both chiding and nostalgic. “But this will last seven years and seven days.”

“Good enough. What do you want in exchange?”

Tutting, he tucked the potion back in his jacket, and she sagged in her seat. “Tea first. I have grand and patronizing cautions to give.”

She lifted the cup, maintaining eye contact as she took the biggest, loudest slurp she could manage. It tasted nice, and its warmth felt even better in her stomach and throat than it had on her skin. Why did the bastard have to be right about everything?

The twinkle in his eye suggested he knew what station the train of her thoughts had left, and he slurped from his own cup in merry retaliation.

“First,” he licked a drip from his mustache, “and foremost: this is vile magic. It doesn’t gift wakefulness – it steals rest. The fae designed it with little prisoners like you in mind, to be taken in spaces where time melts and enchanted food will cheat the body’s need for sleep. Since – I dare presume – you do not have those safeguards, this could kill you.”

He left the words to sink in, trying to scare her off the purchase. When she reached out to see if he knew someone willing to make this potion, he’d leapt at the opportunity himself. It was his way of protecting her, and it gave him a chance to interfere with what he clearly saw as self-harm.

Since she wasn’t sure she could survive another nightmare like the one Dream hauled her through, she’d take her chances with death by her own hand.

“Consider me warned, but it doesn’t change anything.”

Taliesin bowed his head over his teacup, groaning. Any fantasies that he could talk her off her current path finally cracked. “You really are stubborn, rain cloud.”

“I learned from the best.”

“Oh, no. That you found all your own.” His smile grew back, wan but alive. His hand settled on the table, palm up, and she abandoned her tea to settle her hand over his.

“Just promise,” he said with a gentle squeeze, “that if you feel anything going off, if you even suspect something’s wrong, you’ll call your old friend Taliesin. Okay?”

She squeezed back, trying to smile for him, but she was too tired to make the expression stick. “Okay.”

Nodding to himself, he echoed the agreement again, “Okay,” and reached into his pocket. He slipped the bottle between their joined hands, and she pulled away to put it in her sweater.

“What do you want in return?”

“Well!” He smacked the table with both hands, grinning in a way that promised trouble. “I thought long and hard about it, but rather than jewels, or secrets, or power, I think what I would most like from a lovely young storm god is…” He paused, glancing meaningfully out the window at the dreary, grey-yellow afternoon. “A walk in the rain with my favorite little cloud.”

He sounded so damn happy about it he infected her with the feeling. It was nice to be needed. Wanted. Even if she’d just lied to his face.

A friendly rain gathered and fell as Taliesin got up to pay the bill. He left the waitress looking pleased with herself – and probably a generous tip. Then he came to meet his rain cloud at the door. An umbrella appeared from some hidden pocket and he grinned, holding out his elbow for her to link arms with him.

“I always come prepared,” he bragged as they stepped out into the shower.

“You say that like you don’t live in Wales.”

“I never said you were the only thing I came prepared for.”

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

Given the mother’s name to track, Lucienne did eventually find the record of the little storm god’s dreams, but they were useless to Morpheus. He studied the handful of pages warped by the curse she wore around her neck with mounting frustration. Apart from reports of which nightmares feasted on her pain during her brief, forced rests, they gave him nothing.

Her mother’s dreams proved more illuminating. They, at least, gave him a line of inquiry to follow.

The woman dreamed about her child from the moment it was born, from the minute the father tore her away to trade. The mother wandered endless rooms, following a crying child’s voice while she slept. She dreamed of little coffins and wailing infants she couldn’t find in nurseries dripping with gore.

Arcane shapes and dead languages shadowed her sleeping hours as she learned magic. In the waking world, she became a capable witch. There, as in the Dreaming, every hope and wish bent to finding her baby.

She never gave up her pursuit.

But in the end, it was the daughter who found the mother.

Her favorite dream grew out of a memory. A rainy afternoon, a crack of lightning, and a knock on the door. A painfully thin teenager stood on the steps, dripping in a thunderstorm, looking up with wondering eyes. If Morpheus had any doubts as to the girl’s identity, the scars around her neck put them to rest. She still had blood in her hair, rusty smudges caught in the grooves of old scars, fresh hurts and healed wounds calling to the mother’s instinct to protect and care for.

Although she had plenty of nightmares about losing her daughter again – finding her bed empty, losing her in a crowd – the nature of her somnolescent musings shifted. Softened.

And a familiar face came to call. The Welsh bard, Taliesin, whom the demi-god child kept safe at the cost of her hands, brought little gifts to the old woman and her young daughter. His winks brought warm flushes to the mother’s dreams, and she rested easier at night knowing that her little girl would not be entirely alone in the end.

She had sacrificed ten years of her life to a fairy bargain that won her nothing but a hand-sized portrait of her baby girl during her long search. By the time the child returned, her mother had grown old. They only had twelve years together before the lost child lost her mother.

The woman died. The record ended. But Dream knew where to look next.

Abandoning his throne for the library, he wrestled against a growing sense that he was running out of time. Time for what? Time for whom?

He was still Dream of the Endless. He still had a realm and billions of dreamers to manage. The puzzle of the storm god who brought home his raven lingered like a toothache, but he could not abandon his responsibilities. Determined as he may be to remove the golden collar from both the Dreaming and the dreamer, the curse had lingered for decades without disturbing anything significant.

It had been months since he picked through her dreaming mind to discover more about her – more about the curse. Only now, as the things settled back into a comfortable kind of order, could he indulge his curiosity, his side-quest as Death mockingly called his interests. And he was more than interested. The longer the questions lingered, the more of his attention they consumed.

Perhaps it was the crossroads. The Fates said he’d already pushed the storm god towards a darker fate, but they never said it was too late to change that course, and the three often left the most important truths unsaid.

If only he knew what to look for. Perhaps that was why he spent so much time and energy researching the collar. It gave him a target. Without it, he felt like a dreamer caught in a pitch-black nightmare, groping blindly for anything with which to reclaim the light.

But he did not have to search alone.

“Lucienne.”

His librarian looked up from a stack of new, peering over the rim of her spectacles. “Did the mother’s dreams help you find what you needed, my lord?”

“In part. Though I need another volume.” He handed over the two records, the mother’s dreams and the storm god’s. Lucienne set down her tower of work and went to shelve the two immediately. They slotted beside each other, the mother’s name in curling script, the daughter’s blank.

“You know,” Lucienne said, “I only found the nameless one’s record because the mother’s kept reshelving itself with the daughter’s book. I fixed it twice before I realized. It’s rather sweet.” She sighed. “If vexing. What volume do you require, my lord?”

Morpheus spared the books another glance, wondering how much of the mother’s arcane studies had influenced her history of dreams. But she’d given him all she could, and now he must turn to the living for answers. “The bard Taliesin’s records, and anything else we have on his history.”

“That is more a section than a collection, lord.”

“Yes.” It wasn’t his first time encountering the bard. “I may need to speak with him, but he will be loathe to leave a story once he is introduced. I’d prefer to find answers in the records. Will you help me?”

“Of course. Give me a moment.” Lucienne paused. “Give me several moments, please, my lord.”

On Lucienne’s first trip, she retrieved the official record of Taliesin’s dreams. He’d lived a long life, and he dreamed vibrantly. The tome was several feet thick, and the library echoed when the librarian set it on the table.

“Thank you, Lucienne.”

“I’ll fetch the rest, sir.”

Taliesin’s early works, recorded on parchment and scrolls, sat between books published under a dozen nom de plumes in later centuries. When the librarian returned with a cart stacked high with history books referencing and theorizing over the man and his myth, Morpheus excused her.

“These should suffice, Lucienne. I will let you know if I do not find my answers here.”

“Of course, sir.” She brushed dust from her immaculate coat, checking the sleeves, before folding her hands neatly behind her back. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Already buried in the works of Taliesin’s unconscious mind, he shook his head. “Not at this time.”

She bowed and left. The library would be chaos without her. He could remember when it was. It was no mean feat, organizing a universe of stories. It made her wise in ways he had only just begun to appreciate.

The man whose dreams he searched enjoyed other kinds of wisdom. He’d gained a third of the world’s knowledge by accident, but he’d spent the better part of his life learning the other two thirds by choice. Advisor to kings, story-weaver, and a natural mage, he had the wisdom and craft to recognize some of the magic wrought into the storm god’s collar. He’d tried to take it off when they first met, and he studied for a means to free her after his escape.

Morpheus wanted to know what the bard found.

However, though his dreams in the past few decades often welcomed a shade of the storm god to play out adventures and tragedies as part of a colorful cast, Taliesin’s attention did not linger on the curse. It was little more than a bright shadow that pricked his conscience.

He sat back in the chair, glowering at the books that had failed him.

It seemed every whisper of progress led to more questions in this riddle, and not for the first time, he wished the library could offer more insight to the happenings of the waking world. He should not need to ask for help so often.

At least, unlike the storm god, the bard embraced his dreams. Like all great storytellers, he had explored his fantasies and fears ravenously. When he next slept, Morpheus would pry loose some answers. It shouldn’t be difficult. The bard dearly loved the sound of his own voice.

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

Taliesin presided over a court of housecats.

He was aware enough to know the royal courtiers of Edward II did not, originally, have literal claws, but it made perfect sense in the moment. Edward and Gaveston were in the corner, playfully wrestling – maybe – while Isabella stalked closer with murder in her vertical pupils.

“This is not the way,” he huffed, plucking a kitten from the mob joining ranks behind Isabella, a gorgeous tortoise-shell with no interest in his opinion. The kitten sprang spread-eagle back to the floor.

Chaos. Absolute chaos.

His favorite idiot, his little rain cloud, curled under the steps to the dais. She’d found herself, once again, where she did not belong, and if her eyes didn’t reflect the torches set around the room, he never would’ve known she was there. It was the wrong court altogether, but she had a talent for trouble and a gift for surprises.

Dropping to his knees, he reached under the wooden platform to coax her out. She’d become a fetching little half munchkin, half Norwegian forest cat caught in the lanky middle ground between kitten and grown cat. A menace, to be sure, but too cute to ignore.

“Come out and play with your friends,” he said as she wriggled even farther out of reach. “It isn’t good to hide all the time. You need to do some seeking, too, lovee.”

But she was very determined and his arms just weren’t long enough, so he manifested a trail of nibbles to catch her attention. He could be patient. He could be tricksy. Good friends, he firmly believed, should be both, because sometimes people were just too stupid or too stubborn to accept the help they obviously needed.

He sat up to kneel below the empty thrones and clapped his hands on his thighs.

Well. He’d done what he could for now. Across the room, poor Gaveston was learning the price of being a king’s favorite. The yowls and cries almost distracted him to the point he didn’t see the massive black Maine Coon stalk into the throne room. The cat’s eyes glowed, both literally and metaphorically. In his kneeling position, Taliesin actually had to look up to see those eyes, and he gulped, wondering if he was about to be eaten.

“I have questions for you, bard.” The cat spoke with authority in a voice like honeyed night.

Taliesin recognized it, though it hadn’t come from a cat before, and he dismissed all thought of stupid whot, why, what, how demands.

It may be his imagination at work, but it was not his realm.

“Dream King.” He bowed. Then he remembered he was dreaming and squinted at the cacophonous mess of the long-dead king’s feline transformation. “Ah. This makes so much more sense.”

The cats blinked out of existence, or at least out of his dream, and he sat back on his heels. The stone chamber grew quiet. A plaintive meow from beside the stops, however, proved not all the cats had gone. The junior cat approached and let him sweep her into his arms, even purring when he scratched under her chin.

Still aware of the Endless – no longer in cat-form – Taliesin allowed himself a moment to enjoy this imagined pleasure. The little storm god made an adorable ball of fur. “You’d never make this so easy in the waking world, would you?”

She sized his finger with claws and teeth to prove she wasn’t easy in any world.

“There is unwelcome magic in the Dreaming.” The Nightmare King didn’t wait for Taliesin’s focus, confident as any monarch that his words would be heard, that the listener would take note and action. “You have studied it.”

Taliesin nodded, taking his word for it and stroking his friend the kitten as he picked through his long memory for anything of interest to the King of Dreams. “I have studied many shapes of magic, lord.”

“This one is close to you.”

Some darker note in the Dream King’s voice snagged Taliesin’s ear, and he looked away from the cat to study his face. Lips bent in a frown, brows pinched, the king had his starry eyes pinned to the creature in the bard’s arms. Taliesin looked back down to see a phantom of the collar growing around the kitten’s neck. She writhed against it, mewling in pain, staring up at him like he could do anything to help her.

He’d tried, and he’d tried again. He still hadn’t given up entirely.

Couldn’t the poor thing’s shade at least find relief in his dream?

She scratched him in her fit, and he bundled her closer, pinning her fast and safe as he’d failed to do when she was small and alone and willing to suffer in his stead. Even if he couldn’t free her, he’d never abandon her.

The truth of the matter struck him. He felt the cat shudder against his heart when she’d been so calm and accepting a moment ago, and he knew.

“So, you’ve met my favorite idiot.”

“Yes.”

The word betrayed nothing, not how they met, not how he felt. But he wanted to banish the collar once and for all, and Taliesin could get on board with that.

“It’s fairy-make,” he said. “Broken in the waking world, but still manifests in the Dreaming.”

“I know. What I do not know is why. What terms closed the circle around her neck? It appeared to suppress her godly half in life.”

Taliesin tried to cradle the cat even closer without suffocating her. “If you do not mind my asking, lord, how do you know even that much?”

“I saw it,” the king said, casually, like it wasn’t one of the worst things the bard had ever heard, “in her dreams, in her recollection of the past.”

Closing his eyes, the bard took a deep, deep breath in through his nose. He had to hold it for a minute, because it desperately wanted to leave his throat with a string of curses Dream of the Endless would not enjoy. When he was sure he could exhale without heaping abuse on the dolt’s head, he let the breath go. He did it all one more time, and then he said, “I think I understand why she wanted to stay awake.”

Eyes still shut, he murmured to himself, “Why didn’t she tell me? Self-destructive little –”

When he finally looked, the world had changed. Gone was the castle, the throne, and the sweet little cat from his arms. He’d imagined a cheap bedsit in Cardiff, the kind of place the little storm god may stay on the run – and she was definitely on the run, from nightmares if nothing else.

The young woman lay sprawled in a puddle of moonlight, half dead, and fading fast. Her skin clung to her bones, eyes sunken, old wounds open and bleeding from malnutrition and scurvy.

The empty potion bottle sat on the windowsill.

Dream of the Endless studied the scene with clear interest, and Taliesin beat down his protective urges in the name of pragmatism. If she was running from Lord Morpheus, she wouldn’t turn to Taliesin for help when the potion dragged her to the brink of death. It wouldn’t be a life lesson she could grow through. It would be a life ended.

“She came to me a few months ago,” he said, hoping the Endless would care enough about the woman shackled to the curse to consider her in his grand schemes. “She wanted a potion to stave off sleep. I told her it was dangerous, and I thought she’d come to me for help soon, that I could teach her something, but –”

The body on the floor laid so still. How many months had it been? How close was this nightmare to reality?

“I said her dreams would be kinder when she next slept,” the king murmured.

He didn’t have to say he didn’t understand.

Taliesin crossed his arms and cleared his throat. Someone, at least, would learn something this night. “Well, she’s a storm, isn’t she? She isn’t capable of moderation. When she’s happy, she’s ecstatic. When she’s angry she’s electric. When she’s afraid she is very, very afraid. And she’s terrified of you.”

Dream looked over his shoulder at the bard, still looming beside the dying phantom.

“I neither wish nor intend her harm.”

“You don’t have to intend harm to hurt her.”

The Endless fully turned to him, and the bard spoke with all the confidence of being truly heard. Just as the king did upon entering this dream. “You, I presume, dug very deep in a very dark place. That hurt her. Frightened her. If you push her far enough she’ll chew off her own leg to get away, or didn’t you see the part where she nearly decapitated herself to escape the damn collar?”

Silence filled the room. An ugly, cheap place to die. Taliesin wondered how long it would take to find her if she really had gone to ground. He couldn’t trust the King of Dreams to care about anything beyond the Dreaming’s borders, and he wouldn’t trust her health with the one who pushed her to ruin in.

He had spells to find her, but he wasn’t sure he could hold her if she went into a panic.

In the stillness, they could hear her death rattle.

“What will your potion do to her?”

His potion. Yes, he supposed it was his fault. The girl really was like a stray cat, hiding under porches to die quietly rather than let someone help. He should’ve known.

“It keeps her awake. Eventually, she’ll feel too ill to eat. She may hallucinate. Her heart will fall out of rhythm and she’ll waste away until her body doesn’t remember how to function.” He smacked his head back into the wall, wanting punishment, hoping to jog some inspired idea free. “I warned her.”

Of all the Endless, and he’d met quite a few, Dream was the most inscrutable. Cold and detached, but prone to dangerous spikes of interest that spiraled into nearly obsessive passion. His vengeance came swiftly and his affection grew slow. But Dream was, usually, just. He didn’t enjoy undeserved suffering, and Taliesin had to hope that after walking through the little storm god’s dreams, he’d understand she’d earned none of her pain.

It wasn’t too late. He’d lost track of time, but a tableau this desperate wouldn’t come to pass for at least a year.

“If you are of a mind to assist, Dream Lord…” He pushed off the wall, suddenly and entirely desperate to move. “I have an idea.”

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

Her fear grew bitter as her strength waned. She could taste it when she struggled to eat, and when she gave up meals, it poisoned the water she drank. Terror tasted like blood from bitten lips and dust on her dry tongue. Her hands shook, and her throat burned from stomach acid, but it wasn’t bad enough to call on Taliesin again. She knew what he’d say.

Whatever happened, she would not fall asleep.

Besides, she wasn’t dying yet. She was only sick. If the Dream Lord pulled through her bloody history again, she wouldn’t survive. If she had a choice, she’d pick a death in the waking world, free of the collar and safe from the Dream Lord who dragged her through horrors so callously.

She wasn’t convinced he believed in her innocence, either. If he knew he’d threatened someone trying to rescue his damn raven, surely he would’ve apologized.

Better to stay awake and ignore the cramps in her belly.

The rain soothed her. Fitful storms plagued the town she’d chosen as a hiding place, and the old folks grumbled to each other at the grocery store about the weather. Maybe they’d gotten used to it in the past few months. She hadn’t been out in a while.

She didn’t sleep, but she still rested. Her eyelids didn’t grow heavy when she sat by the window and watched the drops racing down the pane. She remained awake, aware, and as close to peace as her racing thoughts allowed.

The window became her favorite pastime, and she spent days studying the changing clouds as angry squalls rolled up the coast, how the grey sky trapped the light during gentler showers.

And she grew weaker. Quietly flirting with the line between sick and deathly ill.

She saw impossible things beyond the glass. It took her a few days to realize they were hallucinations, not a fae spell or some petty apocalypse.

When his reflection appeared behind her in the window, she thought she was seeing things again. And then he spoke.

“You are killing yourself.”

She jerked around, stumbling on numb feet to face the monster. The Nightmare King. Her hand wandered her neck, looking for the collar to prove this was a dream, but she found her scarf instead.

“You are in the waking world,” he confirmed. “You hid yourself well.”

He took a step towards her, and she lunged back. The same game in the wrong realm.

“You still think I’m some kind of threat?”

Another step towards her, another step back – she nearly tripped on the leg of a chair, but she refused to look away for an instant, even to save the scraps of her dignity.

“No.”

He moved the way he spoke, aware of every nuance, every shift, slowly drawing closer. Sure and smooth as a stormfront.

What did he want? She abandoned her home, gave up the precious little sleep she could tolerate, and he still pressed her. He didn’t look angry and cold, like he did on the beach. Something sharp glittered in his eyes, though, a keen edge ready to cut her.

They passed through the living room, through the kitchen, and she only had a few more steps before this slow chase met an abrupt end.

“I’m running out of ground to give, Dream Lord.”

“Good.”

A final step, and her heel met the wall. He closed the distance, keeping the same predator’s pace as she pressed herself flat against the peeling wallpaper.

“Do you want me to fight?” Her growing storm raged. Lightning sheered over the sleepy town, turning the evening bright as noon. Thunder rattled the windows, but the Dream Lord didn’t so much as flinch. “Do you want an excuse to hurt me?”

He stood inches away, eating up her personal space until she felt his shadow had already swallowed her.

“No.”

“Then what do you want?” A whisper with the desperation of a scream.

His razor eyes cut deep, and she quaked in place, afraid to move but wishing she could shrink, become so small he wouldn’t notice her.

“To turn you from a darker fate.”

He raised a hand, and she cowered from the expected blow. When none fell, she peeped at him sidelong. His palm hovered between them, like he was holding up a gift.

“Sleep.”

Stooping ever so slightly, he blew over his hand, sending a gust of sand into her face. She bucked against him, flinging one arm up to cover her face, the other to shove at his chest. But it was no good. By the time he curled his fingers back, she could feel her grip on the world slipping away.

“Poor little storm god.”

Her knees buckled, and she slid down the wall, losing herself by inches to the inescapable lure of the Dreaming and its master.

She slept.

Chapter 4 A/N: I've never done prompt requests, but I've never had 500 FOLLOWERS EITHER (holy shit). I'm celebrating, and you're invited. The rules are a little convoluted, I won't be able to do ALL the things, but you'll all get a say in what makes the cut by voting. To join the fun and check out the rules, go here. Even if you don't join in, there will be one-shots aplenty for you to browse.

I'll be working on a chapter each for my other two active fics while I wait for replies, so you may not see another Younger Gods chapter til next week. For those clamoring for more interaction between the reader and Morpheus, it will be well worth the wait.

#morpheus x reader #dream x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus fanfiction #YoungerGods

1K notes · View notes

ohforficsake · 3 months

Text

The Margay: Chapter 9

Memorize it. Destroy it.

prev / series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC

Word Count: ~4.7K

WARNINGS: I'm going to go ahead and flag this chapter as Dark!Frankie / Potential triggers herein for verbal and physical abuse (extreme jealously, manhandling, pinning against a wall, facial bruising, borderline choking), brief mention of self harm/suicidal ideation / Please read with care.

Rating: Explicit 18+ / language / crass mention of sexual acts / mentions of drug use / Minors DNI

A/N: Frankie breaks something.

Finally getting one of these up in time for Frankie Friday. This chapter. Whew this chapter. It came to me months ago. Something that makes you put everything down so you can transcribe this thing from wherever it’s coming from.

chapter moodboard if you're interested

Divider by @cafekitsune!

“Why are you draggin’ me to this, couldn’t you have found someone else?

“I already told you,” Santiago fiddles with his bowtie in a car window reflection. “It’s a favor to the guy who got us this gig in the first place. Needs bodies in the room for this fundraiser. Davis is covering the donation, it’s the fucking least we could do.”

“You coulda brought some girl.”

“Yeah, but I like you on my arm,” Santi quips with a pout and Fish flips him a choice finger.

The room is filled from marble wall to marble wall with standard Washington DC fixtures. The low din of conversation punctuated with the occasional chime of laugher and clink of glass. Diamonds glitter in the low golden light under massive, equally scintillating chandeliers.

Francisco can't help but scan the room as he trails Pope to the nearest proffered tray of champagne glasses, fingers absent-mindedly wrapping around one when it's placed in his hand.

And it's Frankie who sees her first at a distance. Sheathed in a flowing column of white. Black hair is blown out into loose curls that fall down to the middle of her back, face lit up in a laugh.

When she rocks on her feet he notices that her arm is wrapped around a man’s bicep.

Frankie drains the rest of his champagne, slamming the glass down on a hightop table before Pope catches the crook of his elbow and cuts off his path to her.

“Don’t.”

“Who the fuck is that.”

“The senator who sponsored this thing? That’s his son.”

“That doesn’t make it better, Pope.”

Audrey hanging off the arm of some spoiled fuckin’ rich kid.

Not that he’s a kid, he’s got a few years on Frankie at least.

But a senator’s son?

Audrey.

His Audrey.

Audrey who he’s seen covered in engine grease, cuddling stray cats, trekking through the jungle covered in sweat and blood.

Audrey who warms his bed and angles big green eyes up at him with his spend still coating her thighs.

His Audrey.

She’s clearly playing a game.

She’s on a job.

Undercover.

She’s not herself.

And she catches him staring heat at her from across the room.

A million watts of light spark across her features and she waves them over.

“Francisco. Behave.” Pope spikes him a warning.

When they weave through bodies to make it to her she greets each with kisses on both cheeks, grip falling subtly to Frankie’s arm as her last kiss lingers.

“Let me introduce you," she says to the man, "this is Santiago Garcia and Francisco Morales. The boys who’ve been helping me out down there. The Major is, one of my oldest friends.”

“I should thank you both for keeping her safe,” the Major grins. He’s got a California accent and the tan to match.

She gives them his name but Frankie doesn’t hear it. He’s too busy sizing the man up. Guy’s got three? Four inches in height on him at least. Dark black curls, a face that’s weathered enough to betray that he’s never really worked a desk job. Even Frankie can admit he’s handsome. Roman nose, strong brow. But his eyes startle Frankie the most.

They’re the same color as Audrey’s.

The exact same shade of green. The effect of it is stunning when they both meet Frankie’s gaze.

And Catfish can’t get the flash his brain conjures of the two of them tangled in white sheets out from behind his eyelids.

“You look beautiful tonight, Aud,” Pope charms in an attempt to distract from Fish’s tangible simmering.

“I can clean up okay if I have to,” she winks, untangling her arm from this man’s.

“So what is it that you do?” Frankie cuts in, just this side of prickly.

“Marine engineer,” he says, swallowing a mouthful of champagne. “Which is a pretentious way of saying that I spend my days on boats looking for sunken treasure.”

It is an oversimplification at its finest. Because like the three of them, he’s done his fair share of greasing the cogs that keep the world running smoothly.

And like the three of them, he’s greased them with blood.

“I think we could all use refills," Audrey clears her throat, "Frankie, would you be my extra set of hands?”

“‘Course,” he doesn’t realize he grits it out.

Like spitting slivers of glass.

He flattens one broad palm across the small of her back and guides her in front of him in the direction of the bar. He follows close behind, eyes searing into the back of her skull.

The tattoo on her shoulder taunts him where it peeks out from under the seams of her sleeveless dress.

On display for anyone to see.

When they reach the bar, Frankie slots in behind her, the panes of his chest finding her back.

Audrey presses against him with a hum.

She’s nearly his height in heels and he doesn’t have to bend now to whisper in her ear. “A man more dangerous than me?”

“A friend with a Messerschmitt,” she turns to face him, running her hand over his stomach under his jacket.

And he revels in her touch before betraying the way it soothes.

“You fuck all of your friends?”

Frankie can tell there’s history between them that involves more than clunky warplanes and tinkering with old cars and it bubbles up like bile spat out in needless cruelty.

“Only the ones who know what Messerschmitts are,” she tosses back in kind, her tone level in direct defiance of what’s clawing at the back of her throat.

She turns around again as the bartender approaches and Frankie steps back a hair, breaking contact with her form.

It makes her seethe.

She hands Frankie three glasses of tequila with lime, balanced easily in generous hands, before she sweeps a gin martini off of the bar and leads him back to where Santiago and the man are laughing about something.

Fish hands Santi and glass holds the other out for Audrey, but she sips from the martini without breaking his stare and Frankie instead has to hand it over to the other man.

Messerschmitt. Since Frankie can’t remember his name.

They toast, what a pleasure to meet, happy you boys are keeping Audrey company out there.

Company.

“Fish, the Major is a pilot, he was Air Force.”

“In my youth,” the man quips.

“I’ve heard,” he drains his glass and doesn’t attempt to continue down the path what Santi has forged for him.

And so the two of them carry the conversation alone, Frankie staring daggers at Audrey who shoots him the occasional searing glance every time she plucks an olive from the golden skewer in her drink.

A hush falls over the crowd as vainglorious speeches start up.

But Frankie's ears are ringing.

Audrey makes it through one speech before excusing herself to the restroom with a soft hand on Santi’s elbow, and a brush on Messerschmitt’s cuff.

She doesn’t need to alert Frankie because Frankie’s been watching her every move.

He waits five minutes before slipping away in the same direction.

They’re about to pass each other in the hallway when Frankie’s hand shoots out for her bicep, a glance over his shoulder to be sure no one is looking before dragging and shoving roughly to pin her against the wall.

“So is this what you do, when you’re not with me? Fuck senators’ sons?”

“The fact that he’s a senator's son is honestly the most unfortunate thing about him. And what we do is not my being with you. It’s my job.” She presses something soft into his hand. “That’s for you. If you want it.”

Frankie stuffs whatever it is into his jacket pocket and continues.

“And is this part of your job? Hanging off the arms of handsome men in fancy rooms?” He runs his palms down her bare arms before they settle on her hips.

“Sometimes. But I don’t frequent these in my downtime. This is a favor.”

“A favor. To him.”

“Yes.”

“So you don’t make a habit of this? Being this charming.”

“Aw you really think so?” She snarks and Frankie’s hands on her hips slam her back against the wall.

“You like it, don’t you. All of these eyes on you. Driving me insane.” His fingers brush a curl from her cheek. “Don’t play coy, I see how they look at you. Do you beg them for it, Audrey?”

“They look at me because I’m a novelty in this room, Frankie.”

And she’s not wrong. She’s a lithe beautiful thing with rich bronze skin in a room of wives and mistresses the same shade of blonde caked in the same shade of orange. She moves through a sea of hungry eyes with comfort precisely because she doesn’t give a fuck about the other men in this room.

Not even really about Messerschmitt. Not now that he’s here.

“You mean you don’t work your way into their beds? Let them fuck you until you’re screaming?”

She scoffs a “no” and Frankie listens but doesn’t hear.

“Is it their money? Their expensive whiskey and the thread count of their sheets that makes you come?”

His hand skates up over her chest, fingers feather-light over the skin of her collarbone that peeks out from under the high neck of her dress.

“Because there’s no way their cocks are satisfying you. That room is rife with overcompensation.”

Everything to this point has been some twisted form of foreplay.

But Frankie tips.

His hand moves to her neck now, the broad span of it making easy work of fitting around her throat.

Because some part of him believes this. Believes that Messerschmitt has had her and would have had her tonight if Santi hadn’t dragged him here and it makes him wonder how many others.

He needs to know how many others.

Frankie's eyes are blown dark, logic is abandoned in a brain fogged with jealousy. Skin thrumming with possession.

And it’s out before he can catch it.

“How many of them have had you, Audrey?” Rumbled through low registers of his voice.

He uses his index finger to roughly angle her face back to him from where she’s glanced back into the room.

“How many of them have seen you fall apart? Hmm? How many of them have left you shaking?”

His body holds her against the wall, thighs pressed to hers, his elbow jammed painfully in the sparse space between them where he holds her.

And Audrey just watches, gaze angled down her nose.

Amused.

Frankie’s a man in a trance as he runs the pad of his thumb over the lush of her bottom lip, hot breath following its path.

“Have they seen the way your mouth falls open when you clench around them? Do they know that you can see these little fucking teeth when you do,” he snarls it, sliding his thumb over her top incisors before slipping it farther to slide over her tongue.

He tastes of lime and ozone.

“How many of them have come in this pretty little mouth, Audrey?” Frankie presses down with his thumb to open it wider.

She could bite down. She could box his ears and take out an eardrum or both. She could throw a knee into his crotch.

She could scream.

She’s not going to.

Not yet.

But she could.

He adjusts his grip and his middle finger and thumb dig painfully into the space at the hinge of her jaw and he gives her head a small shake, voice dripping with condescension. “Do you swallow for them, or is that just for me?”

And it should frighten her. The way her sweet soft Frankie has gone dark.

The way he’s a hair’s breadth away from squeezing down on her pulse.

The way he could crush her jaw with the strength of his hand alone.

But this?

This is always there.

Churning under the surface until it heats enough to boil.

It's what she loves about him.

“Do you let them come inside you too? Let them empty their balls into your hot little cunt and leave you dripping?” He shifts one leg to the outside of hers to press her further into the wall with his body.

And it should terrify her, this being caged in, his fingers jammed hard into her mandible as he spits and seethes with equal parts disdain and infatuation.

“Do they fill you up like I do? With as much as I do?”

The hard line of Frankie’s cock pressed against her hip telegraphs unyielding, sick pleasure.

“Do they fuck you better than I do, Audrey?”

“There is no ‘they’ Frankie.”

“Oh? Well then. Does that man. Out there. Fuck you. Better than I do.” His arm twitches with each sentence, moving her head with it.

She should be ashamed of how wet she is.

“Would you let him come down your throat the way that you let me?”

And she doesn’t dare give him the satisfaction of the truth.

“I know he doesn’t eat you out the way that I do. Doesn’t make you come on his face.” He presses his nose to her cheek, breathing in the scent of her. “I can tell.”

“But I bet he’d still give it to you. If you wanted him to.”

He doesn’t realize that he’s growling with every breath.

“I don’t want...”

“But would he. Fuck you.”

“Yes.”

And Frankie’s nostrils flare and a breath hisses through his teeth.

His hold on her tightens.

“Yeah, I bet he would. Because you’re a fuckin’ toy. A pretty little plaything to be used when the need strikes and then…” he trails off. “He’d fuck you but he wouldn’t keep you.”

“Yeah—" he growls.

"I wouldn’t either.”

And Frankie says it because he’s frothing with impotence at what he doesn’t have to offer.

Any one of these men could give her the world.

They paid $14K just to stand in this room.

But Frankie wouldn’t keep her because Frankie doesn’t deserve her.

And Frankie makes it her fault.

Lashing out at her for the way she consumes him.

And all of this. This is trying to prove himself with his body where the rest of him falls short.

Because it’s all he knows.

The Delta who gave his body to the Stars and Stripes in search of validity and purpose and a place in this world.

And those colors chewed him up and spat him out tasting like a bad back and a coke problem.

But he’s taken it too far now.

Still gripping hard at her jaw.

And her scorpion’s tongue delivers a barb that sticks right in the spot in his brain where he’s regretted it every moment of his existence since that night.

“You going to strangle me again, Francisco?”

The antidote to his fever.

“No,” the grip on her loosens.

The fight drains through the soles of his feet and back to the earth to be transmuted into something that doesn’t destroy.

He breathes without snarling.

And rests his forehead against hers before taking half a step back.

And she tips her face to hover her lips over his but neither of them move any farther.

They just breathe.

Looking like lovers to anyone who is watching.

She brushes a hand over the napkin slipped into his jacket pocket. “Memorize it. Or don’t. But destroy it either way.”

And Audrey slips from between him and the wall.

Frankie doesn’t move to turn around, instead bracing his forearm against wallpaper, listening to her heels on marble as she returns to the bathroom.

“And Frankie,” she calls over her shoulder, staving off the shattering of her voice. “Please be nice.”

He snorts as he spins and leans heavy against drywall, head thudding backwards. He scrubs a palm down his face and breathes deep, trying to bring himself back to even.

Trying to stave off the panic winding around his organs.

Threatening to constrict.

He has no idea what just happened.

Frantic fingers scramble for the thing in his pocket.

A napkin that he unfolds.

An address in Alexandria.

Her address.

He storms off to the gents and into a stall, mentally repeating the numbers and letters until it’s ingrained before he drops it in the toilet bowl. Blue ink bleeds into something illegible before he flushes it away.

His stomach turns and for a moment he thinks tequila is going to follow it.

Frankie breathes in hard through his nose and out with a hiss, storming out of the stall to splash cold water into his face.

He prays he hasn’t left a bruise.

_____

“You good?” Santi whispers when Audrey slips in beside him.

“Yeah, do I look fine?”

He gives her a quick once-over. “Physically, yes. Spiritually?” Pope tips his glass of tequila towards her hand and she drains it as applause breaks out at the end of another speech.

“He okay?”

“Dunno.”

Santiago casts a look over his shoulder towards the bathrooms.

“Come, let me get you another,” he gently presses an open palm to Audrey's elbow, leading her to the bar.

“Gin and soda.” Santi knows her and joins. “Two."

Santi knows the two of them well enough to hit on what just happened. "That really spun him up, huh?”

“Never meant to. I’ve known the Major for over twenty years, I came as a favor. He’s one of the few people on earth who knows what I actually do.”

“It’s not a fucking crime to be comfortable around someone," she adds in a soft voice. "I had no idea you were going to be here.”

“Sort of a favor on our end as well.” Santiago slips a tip into the glass jar as the bartender slides over two drinks.

Audrey swallows a sip, letting the ice cold liquid chill her burning stomach.

“I was fucking happy when I saw you both.”

And she sounds like she's about to fracture.

“Hey.”

Santi’s eyes are soft, heavy-lidded as is his way when he’s sincere.

“He’s an idiot when it comes to this.”

She scoffs and takes another sip.

“I’m gonna beat the shit out of him.”

“That’s very kind Santi, but I can do it myself.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“No.”

“Yeah, your jaw is starting to bruise.”

“Fuck,” and she adjusts her hair to fall where Frankie’s fingers were with Pope calmly directing her movements.

To anyone else they’re making conversation.

But to anyone who knows, Pope is fuming and Audrey’s a frayed nerve.

And Messerschmitt knows and Messerschmitt would kill for her, but only if she says the word.

And she doesn’t.

“Let’s get you some food, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She has no appetite but she takes the arm Santi offers because he’s the only person Frankie won’t murder tonight and he guides her towards the nearest waiter with a tray of canapés.

For the first time in the two years that he’s known her, Santi realizes that Audrey can’t take care of herself right now.

She’s unfocused, eyes darting around the room with none of their usual calculated discernment.

Big, liquid things. Fighting the threat of overflow.

Whatever the fuck Frankie just said.

He broke her.

And so Santiago spends the rest of the night putting his body between her and Fish, and Fish knows that Santi knows something, the shame of it heating the tips of Frankie’s ears.

Audrey doesn’t stick around long after speeches are through.

She takes her leave after wrapping Santiago in a grateful embrace, kissing Messerschmitt on the cheek, and squeezing Frankie’s arm.

He can tell that was for appearances’ sake and he knows better than to follow right after her.

In the end he plays well in the sandbox. So well, in fact that he strikes up a conversation with the Major. They talk of helicopters and Immelmann maneuvers and they bore Santiago enough that he abandons them for a pretty blonde at the bar.

And Catfish shakes Messerschmitt’s hand when he leaves.

But he still doesn’t know his name.

_____

Frankie crawls back to her at midnight like a shamed thing with his tail between his legs.

She opens the door to find his hands stuffed in his pockets, doe eyes back on full display.

And Audrey wishes she hadn’t handed him that napkin.

But she also wishes for the confirmation that he offers now.

That they’re going to be okay.

In their own, fucked up kind of way.

She invites him inside without saying a word and he doesn’t reach out for her as he steps into darkness.

City lights filter in through large windows, but a candle on the coffee table is the only thing lighting his way.

She’s just been sitting in the dark.

And he stands in her home that he can’t see, somewhere between her living room and her kitchen, watching her move from the bar to the fridge and back again, still clad in her white evening gown.

Like a ghost in the night.

She hands him tequila and scoops the dregs of her martini off of the coffee table, downing it before heading for the sink.

He catches her arm on the way, holding her on the tips of his fingers, waiting for her to move.

She stops but doesn’t lean in.

“I’m sorry.” Frankie whispers.

And the candlelight catches in her eyes when she looks to him.

For my jealously. For what I said. The questions I asked.

For insinuating that you’re a whore.

But instead “I’m sorry” is all he repeats on a sigh as he lets her go and to his surprise she reaches to wrap an arm around his neck, pressing her body to his, burying her face in his collar.

It takes him a moment before he holds her back, biceps squeezing around her ribs.

And feeling bursts from his chest with a sob.

“I’m sorry, cariño, I’m sorry,” he kisses against her hairline, seeking forgiveness in her mouth.

“I’m going to take a shower,” is all he gets in return. “Alone.”

And she leaves Frankie standing backlit by city light, looking for all the world like a man-shaped void in her home.

Frankie thinks he should leave.

He wants desperately to run from this pain of his own creation, slip into drink in his own hotel room and pass out on the floor.

It can’t be that hard to find coke in DC.

And the thought scares him enough to make him stay.

He forces himself to move on legs of lead to collapse on her couch, screwing the heels of his palms into his eyes, listening to water against tile where she’s left the bathroom door open.

Audrey returns to him in a black linen robe, wet hair smelling of white flowers.

Darkness unfurls into night-blooming florals.

The same darkness that dry-rots him from the inside out, leaving nothing but a cloud of cheap blow behind every time something collapses.

And her manicured feet enter Frankie’s frame of view, but he doesn’t look up until she kneels down, reaching her hand to cup his scruffy jaw and tip his face to hers.

He’s crying.

She thumbs one tear from his cheek before it’s replaced with another.

Frankie engulfs her hand with his, turning to press a kiss to her palm.

“We don’t work here, Francisco.”

And she skates around her issue to get to the heart of their issue.

She’ll deal with herself later.

What they have doesn’t belong here.

In city lights, where people wear diamonds and Rolexes. Where mistresses and wives are the ones making deals to keep everything running smoothly.

Here where she moves with practiced ease.

Here where he’s lost in words that don’t mean what they say and smiles that lash instead of soothe.

Where the air draws cruel things from his throat.

“I know.”

They never intended to bring it here.

“Forgive me.” He whispers.

Forgive me the delusion.

“Forgive me, Audrey.”

Forgive me my words.

“Forgive me,” panted against her mouth, foreheads pressed flush.

Forgive me and show me you still care.

Because I don’t.

Not about my body, not about my soul, and I might damn them both tonight if you don’t forgive me.

But he’s still asking on his behalf.

“Audrey, please. Please,” he sobs.

I don’t know why I’m like this.

I don’t know where else to go.

Take me back. To before I bruised.

Bruises that blossom on her jaw now in low light.

But bruises were how they started.

And she takes his hands in her own and leads him to her bedroom where she strips layers from him. Rids him of wool and cotton and lays him in linen sheets.

She fits against his back, arm around a chest that can’t find steady breath. Audrey presses kisses to the back of his neck. Strokes his hair until sleep briefly takes him.

Like the warm body that she is.

And in the night he finds her, heated palms on her stomach, pulling her weight to rest on his hips but she peels his fingers from her skin and rolls back to her side of the bed.

He knows why he came here.

To fix what he’s done but he doesn’t know where to start sewing up the damage.

He ripped too deep.

And Frankie doesn’t know what else to do but offer his body and allow her to take what she needs.

To allow himself to be a body for her to use after his words and his fingers implied she was the same.

And she knows none of it’s true but she can’t help but feel it.

The love she doesn’t know how to give.

The family she’ll never have because she knows nothing more than how to bring death into the world.

But from where Frankie lies, tonight what she needs isn’t him.

And it brings a fresh, heaving wave of regret to crash through his chest.

_____

“I was engaged once,” she offers hours later as the blue beginnings of dawn start to light the room because she knows Frankie is still awake behind her.

“To him?”

“To a man more dangerous than you.”

“What h— what happened?”

“We were playing house in a home that was never ours.”

“We’re brutal things. Where he tries now to atone for his sins, I lean into them. We were never set up to work.”

“What does he do.”

And she doesn’t answer that particular question when she starts again.

“He was a Delta too, once upon a time.”

“What was his name?”

“Spencer.”

And it’s like a gift. Frankie knew of a Spencer who had made rank before him. Knew of the whispers that spread like wildfire through barracks of a ghost of a man who could do the impossible and he wonders if they’re one and the same.

Not unlike the woman in his arms.

“And now?”

“Sometimes we find each other on nights that get too dark. Sometimes we save one another.”

Lives and souls.

“But most times we’re nothing more than memories and whispered wishes in each other’s general directions. Each one of us hoping the other is still alive.”

“He would take you back?”

And Frankie doesn’t understand his fixation on this question, because she’s not his and never claimed to be.

But pieces of her live in the hearts and beds of other men and he desperately wants all of her for himself.

A wildcat in a cage.

A taxidermied husk with glass eyes.

A pelt to drape himself in.

He doesn’t ever ask if she would have them.

“Everyone would take me back, Frankie,” she pulls the duvet up to her ear.

“Because I’m always the one who leaves.”

“Will you leave me?”

It hangs in the air. Unanswered.

And he knows now.

She will leave.

And he will be another man who holds another piece of her.

And she will continue giving away whatever pieces of her that men will take.

Until there’s nothing left.

Nothing but murmured whispers of a ghost.

And pieces of her memory.

_____

When daylight comes, Frankie blinks hard at where sunrise streams through sheers.

Reaching out for warmth before dread blooms in his chest.

Audrey’s gone.

It’s her house and she’s gone.

And he bolts from the bed, searching for signs that she’ll return.

But he finds no note, no text, no sign.

Audrey’s left him.

_____

Author's Post Script: Messerschmitt and Spencer are actual characters that I've borrowed to play with for a moment, all credit to their original owners. Feel free to slide your guesses into my DMs if you're so inclined. Or just want to chat after all of that.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @toomanytookas @spookyxsam

Also again taking the risk to tag some lovely folks who have shown interest in this here little story. As always, please do let me know if you'd prefer not to be tagged:

@tinytinymenace @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @theshensei @iamskyereads @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @soft-persephone @julesonrecord @criticalarchitecture @oliveksmoked @jessthebaker @tanzthompson @youandmeand5bucks @ems-chaos-corner @thethirstwivesclub @76bookworm76 @tuquoquebrute

Please note that old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted here at Ohforficsake.

Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.

#tw: verbal abuse #tw: physical abuse #tw: mentions of self-harm #tw: suicidal thoughts #frankie morales #santiago garcia #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #the margay #ohforficsake

45 notes · View notes

apod · 1 year

Photo

2023 February 22

Our Increasingly Active Sun Image Credit & Copyright: Mehmet Ergün

Explanation: Our Sun is becoming a busy place. Only two years ago, the Sun was emerging from a solar minimum so quiet that months would go by without even a single sunspot. In contrast, already this year and well ahead of schedule, our Sun is unusually active, already nearing solar activity levels seen a decade ago during the last solar maximum. Our increasingly active Sun was captured two weeks ago sporting numerous interesting features. The image was recorded in a single color of light called Hydrogen Alpha, color-inverted, and false colored. Spicules carpet much of the Sun's face. The brightening towards the Sun's edges is caused by increased absorption of relatively cool solar gas and called limb darkening. Just outside the Sun's disk, several scintillating prominences protrude, while prominences on the Sun's face are known as filaments and show as light streaks. Magnetically tangled active regions are both dark and light and contain cool sunspots. As our Sun's magnetic field winds toward solar maximum over the next few years, whether the Sun's high activity will continue to increase is unknown.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap230222.html

235 notes · View notes

orqheuss · 11 months

Text

For whatever we lose (like a you, or a me)

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader ANGST)

Pre!Parenthesis Universe

Summary:

“Oh for the love of—” Sebastian cut himself off, quickly drawing his wand from his sleeve and pointing it at your chest. Images danced behind his eyes; Solomon destroying the plant that could have cured Anne; The blurry image of the goblin that had cursed his sister running from the house, cackling in villainous mirth; finding his parents bodies in the cellar, thick plumes of colored toxic smoke spewing from their cauldron. His vision faded to a striking black. White hot pokers stabbed into his temples, and he cast his wand at you in a blind rage. “Crucio!” *** The Scriptorium called your name, and who were you to ignore its song? At least, that's what you told yourself as Sebastian pushed you and Ominis deeper and deeper into the mausoleum.

Word count: 9k

Tags: arguing, violence, cruciatus curse, dark!sebastian (kind of), sexual humor

AN: I’m moving all of my fics over from Ao3 to make them more accessible! These are my fics.

Not a sound could be heard in the moonlit, desolate hallways of Hogwarts. The distant star casted a haunting glow over the courtyard and shone through the grand windows of the Great Hall. Figures long lost to time danced through the paintings lining the hazelwood walls, waltzing to an imaginary concerto. The ghosts floating about chatted quietly about their history, telling tales of cadences forever forgotten in old textbooks. Their whispers shivered the leaves in the trees on the campus grounds, leaving them humming at the fall winds cascading from the sky and turning their once vibrant green spires into a burnt orange. Lanterns lined the Grand Staircase at the heart of the castle, a paragon of regality and the wisdom of the great wizarding school. Baroque styled banisters basked in the glow, expelling person-shaped shadows on the enormous walls lining the mystical architecture. Down the stairs laid an ornate stone door, its architrave adorned with a cosmic silver snake. Two freshly lit braziers framed the entrance and swayed in the steely breeze of the dungeons, its smokey ash pirouetting in romantic couplets towards the ceiling.

A third was sparked to life just down the way. The line of light seemed to lure in anyone who were to walk the halls past curfew; beckoning them with the promise of mischief and pleasure. Standing before the final brazier, basking in its luminescence, were three young students. One leaned against the far wall of the corridor, arms crossed tightly against his chest with a sullen look adorning his features. His eyes seemed to catch the light and shimmer like frosted glass on a winter morning. Another stood in front of the boy, directly under the cold stone of the giant candelabra. He was beaming with elation, his eyes glittering with waywardness and intrigue. His brown irises seemed to reflect the fire back in challenge, almost daring it to blaze brighter than he did. Between the two was the final student. A slight frown quirked the corner of their mouth, glancing back and forth between their two friends in trepidation. They could feel each emotion emitting from their companions like a thick fog, coating the hallway and leaving the braziers the lone match shining through the storm. Each felt something different about their quest— had different motives for the scintillating adventure. They all heard the distinct call to the Scriptorium before them, and felt more than compelled to answer. With a great rumble, the stone wall sloughed away and opened up to a chasm leading downward. A spiral staircase slithered from below and attached to the ledge, hissing out a stream of steam in its wake.

The three friends stood in awe at the display, amazed at the grandiloquence of the long dead wizard who made this place. They were about to enter Salazar Slytherin’s Scriptorium, a feat very few could claim as their own.

Sebastian Sallow turned on the balls of his feet and beckoned his friends over, a giddy look twinkling in his eyes and stretching his smile. The prospect of finding a cure for the curse that plagued his sister heavily outweighed any unease he may have had at the daunting entryway. He nearly vibrated with excitement— the need for thrill buried itself deep in his bones. He could taste the tombs of secrets hidden in the enigma before him, feel the leather bound books worn with oil from the fingertips of his house founder. The forbidden magic thrummed in his veins and set his blood aflame like the brightest sunlight. Something unfamiliar flashed in his eyes, something dark.

Ominis Gaunt, the heir of Slytherin himself, flicked his wand from his large robe sleeve and sparked it to life. A red light pulsed from its tip, and the hallway came more into focus in his mind. He pushed himself off of the wall and walked towards the imposing archway, closer to his family history simmering below. He looked striking, noble even, with his even, strong steps. Only someone close enough to be in his own skin would notice the slight tremble in his hands, the sweat that beaded at his brow. Anyone else with his condition could hear the steady hammer of his heart against his rib cage, the fast but even beats swimming in his ears and resting behind his eyes. He thought of his dear aunt Noctua, the last of the Gaunt’s to enter the foreboding mausoleum— how she had disappeared soon after finding its entrance. A shiver ran up his spine and something akin to fear lodged itself in his throat.

You looked on at the two boys. You had no feelings for this moment, nothing to go off of but the words of your two comrades. You peaked down the chilling stairs into the never-ending darkness. It seemed to hiss in contempt at being awoken. This metaphorical pit of serpents had fangs, and each dripped with a deadly poison befitting the strongest men. The blackness crept up your arms and buried itself in your hair— it whispered sweet nothings into your ears, enticing the ancient magic flowing under your skin. You inhaled the titillating aroma of devillment and stored it deep in your lungs. Excitement and worry crashed against your soul and swirled like a hurricane in your stomach, sending ripples of anxiety through your very bones. You truly didn’t know how you felt at that very moment, but you knew, more than anything, that you wanted to protect your friends. Something inside, though, felt familiar. Something was calling out to your magic, and you felt inclined to answer.

You pushed the anxiety aside for now. The two boys, now standing next to you, both had things they needed to learn from the Scriptorium, and you were going to help them find it. The idea of adventure took over your senses at that moment and spread heat through your chest, glowing as bright at the braziers you had just lit.

Even Ominis, a very stoic and reserved boy to most, seemed to have a gleam about his face that shimmered in eagerness. Not many knew, but he most definitely had a taste for chaos— he had to with the company he kept. There was something so intriguing about the Scriptorium to him. Maybe it was something forged in his very being, him being a Gaunt after all. Either way, the young wizard turned his attention towards his companions in a silent confirmation that he was ready to go. You cleared your throat hesitantly, drawing the attention of Sebastian away from the dark hallway before you.

“Alright boys,” you gestured towards the entrance with your hand, “shall we?”

The two nodded in your direction. Sebastian turned to you with a cheeky grin decorating his features. “I haven’t seen a tunnel this big since your mum.”

Another thing about the Sallow boy: he very rarely took anything seriously.

At the unimpressed look you gave him, he held his hands up in a placating manner, chortling to himself, “Aw, come on. That was a good one—”

You reached your hand towards his face and promptly thumped him on the forehead with a flick. Sebastian dropped the troublesome smirk and quickly brought his palm up to rub at the affronted spot, hissing through his teeth in pain.

You looked at Ominis next to you, and as if sensing your disappointment he shook his head while looking up at the ceiling, muttering to himself, “Merlin, help me,” before beginning to walk down the daunting staircase.

You and Sebastian fell into step behind the young Gaunt, trusting his instincts and sentient wand better than your fleeting eyesight. The tunnel was unequivocally dark, even the lumos dancing in front of your face barely pierced the surface. Your shoes made a distinct squelch sound on the wet cement with each step deeper into the pit.

Down,

down,

down you went.

The stairs seemed to go on forever, descending into the fathomless unknown. Each sound echoed off the tightly packed walls, bouncing back and forth like a well crafted game of wizards chess. The seconds ticked by slowly, cascading around you like the steady stream of drips coming from above. The piping loomed imposingly above your heads and drizzled along the black-stone walls. You must be truly under the castle, you supposed. You felt tightly packed like a tin of sardines— three fish wiggling together towards the unknown fate of the stew pot. Ominis could smell your discomfort behind him, and quite honestly, he was inclined to agree. He couldn’t sense the end landing, if there even was one, in the infernal devilry that was the accursed sepulcher. The scent and taste of mildew and stale air coated his nasal cavity and larynx, making it impossible to determine anything else from the two orifices. He would gripe about his lack of sight in situations like this, at least normally, but he doubted that it would make much difference at the current moment. There was truly nothing around them.

Sebastian could taste the unease in the air from his two companions, and he detested the feeling greatly. It was of the utmost disrespect to the boy to turn down adventure; there was absolutely nothing in this world that he didn’t want to poke and prod, to know how it ticked. If there was one thing that his parents passed down to him before they died, it was that. He understood that it was a daunting task, and a very large ask of his dear friends, to take this journey with him, but for Merlin’s sake, it was Slytherin’s Scriptorium! He had only ever read about this monumental library, hiding deep in the caverns of the Hogwarts underbelly. How could he say no to this journey, this discovery? If it helped Anne along the way, what was the harm of it all?

Just as you were beginning to think you would never leave the Hadean staircase, it finally puttered off to a smooth path of river-stones and a dimly lit concourse. Ominis stood at the forefront of the group, his wand casting a small bale-fire and illuminating more of the imposing hallway. Sebastian chuckled lowly behind him. Wrapping his arm around the smaller boy's shoulders and leaning his head towards you, his eyes focusing deep into the darkness before him, he hummed.

“Hmph. Dark, ominous corridors. My favorite!” He cheesed at your bubbling laugh, snickering to himself at the obvious annoyance of the other boy.

Ominis bemoaned the statement, groaning and throwing his head back minutely. A hand raised to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “No comment.”

You turned towards your blond haired friend, placing your own hand on his shoulder and leaning in next to his ear, a dangerously coy simper tweaking up the corners of your mouth.

“I certainly love one of Ominis’ corridors.”

The wiry boy wiggled out from under your arms, making a sound of disgust at the comment as his cheeks turned a bright fuchsia. Sebastian desperately held in giggles behind his hand, watching as the boy made an obscene gesture with his middle finger in your general direction. The taller boy stepped closer to the other, gently grasping his arm by the wrist and redirected the gesticulation to face more fully at you instead of a little to the left where it once was pointed. Both of you paused, looking between each other's eyes and the offending finger with barely contained mirth, before combusting dramatically into boisterous laughter. Sebastian leaned against the wall in support, nearly screaming around the laughs that wracked his body. You still stood across from Ominis, doubled over with your hands on your knees. Gasping breaths left your lungs as you teared up in humorous pain. Ominis’ scowl somehow got deeper, and once again he turned away from the pair of you and began to walk down the hallway himself— screw you two hooligans to the sticking place for all he cared.

“Yes, yes. Hardy har, laugh at the blind fellow. Incredibly mature, you both are.”

Sebastian walked up to your hunched form, patting you gently on the back before grasping at your shoulder and helping you stand. You both leaned on the other for support as the last of your giggles tittered into the air around you. Taking a deep, cleansing breath before shakily releasing the air, you began to walk after the tiffed boy. His haunches were raised above his ears, only the tips poked out and were flushed a light pink. You quickly ran to catch up with his quick steps, waving your wand around in front of you to avoid any obstacles in the low lighting. Your arm landed on his shoulders once again, and you sniggered jovially,

“I do apologize. That was terribly coarse of me, my dear Ominis.”

Sebastian slid up on the other side of the boy, wrapping his arm around his other shoulder and resting his hand at your elbow. He accentuated his accent, adopting an incredibly posh vernacular. “Indubitably. Frightfully uncouth of us. Please forgive us, dear friend.”

Ominis growled in the back of his throat, mumbling curses under his breath and shrugging off both of your arms. “Go lick a leprechaun taint, the both of you.”

You both gasped in outrage.

“How dare you, good sir!” Sebastian cried, a hand fluttering over his heart and a scandalized look decorating his visage.

You took a similar stance. “We are children of God! Deviant behavior such as that must be saved for one's wedding bed.”

The two pureblood wizards paused and turned towards you, confusion laced in their eyebrows. The brunette leaned closer to you, arms now crossed in befuddlement, and glanced at you from his peripheral vision like he was about to share a secret.

“What’s a ‘God’?” Sebastian whispered out of the side of his mouth.

You turned towards the boy, finger raised and mouth open with an explanation at the tip of your tongue. You quickly decided against it, though, as you knew it would just confuse them more. Best not try to explain muggle religion to two boys who have never stepped out of their small towns until it was time to go to school. You sighed, lowering your hand and about facing the end of the hall, ambling along ahead of the pack. The two boys shrugged and continued after you.

At the far end of the hallway stood two imposing stone walls, an ostentatious doorway slid into the space between. Looking at the entrance, embellished in the texture of scales and decorated with serpent imagery, you felt a sense of dread wash over you. Each turn in this maze of a catacomb seemed to linger with a foreboding aura, flooding your senses and raising the hairs at the back of your neck. You turned to look at Sebastian, now at your elbow just behind you. He was gazing at the door in pure curiosity, his eyebrows pinched together in contemplation. He ran his hand along the intricate carvings, tracing each snake with delicate precision.

Ominis slowly entered the room, his head tilted left and then right with a pensive look adorning his face. He stood in the center of the room and closed his eyes, seemingly listening to something that only he could hear. Soft hisses slithered through the room from the pipes above, adding to the dreadful vibe. Each hiss caused him to twitch in one direction to the next. If you didn’t know any better, you would say that he was possessed by a snake itself.

His eyes suddenly snapped open, startling you with his ferocity. He quickly paced towards the door, running his hand along the carvings with Sebastian. The homing signal at the tip of his wand cast an eerie glow on the wood, mingling with the green fire torches lining the walls. He leaned his ear on the door, listening closely to the whispers in the walls. He tilted his head towards the pair of students, gesturing with his chin at the entryway.

“It’s speaking to me.”

You quirked an eyebrow at the boy. “The wall is talking to you?”

He nodded, pressing his ear against the wall once again. You walked towards the blond, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead in puzzlement.

“Are you feeling alright, Ominis? Are you ill? How can the wall be ta—”

“Shush!” He gently grasped your arm and lowered your hand to your side. “No, you numpty. It’s speaking parseltongue, the language of snakes.”

Sebastian leaned away from the door, snapping his fingers in excitement and pointing at the blind boy.

“I forgot you could speak parseltongue!”

Ominis huffed to himself, trepidation coating his tightly spoken words, “Well, I don’t particularly enjoy it. Parseltongue is notoriously associated with dark wizards, something as you know I have tried very hard to disassociate myself with.”

He leaned away from the door, instead resting his hand on the wall beside it. He looked up, unseeing, at the grand archway decorating the edges of the room and listened carefully once again to the hissed whispers.

“I think I need to speak to the door for it to open. Please step back, the both of you. I don’t want you hurt if something goes awry.”

You both took a noisy step back, making sure to alert him since he briefly put away his wand in favor of leaning on the stone wall with both hands.

Ominis sighed to himself, blowing upwards and dislodging part of his hair from his styled quiff. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.”

From his mouth came a series of lethargic hisses, stringed together as if in a sentence. The sound seemed to fill the entire room, echoing off the stone walls and bouncing back at you from all angles. It amplified steadily as the hisses from above answered in turn.

Three of the decorative serpents came to life within the wood, slithering through the holes of the door and gliding along the edges of its carved trenches. A stream of mist puffed from its outer ridges, silencing the voices floating around you with a defined burst of powerful air. It blew the hairs dangling around your face backwards, tickling the tips of your ears and the back of your neck. Every hair on your body stood on edge and you suppressed a shiver.

The three of you stood silently for a moment, basking in the sudden quiet. It was like a bubble that had mysteriously appeared around your heads spontaneously popped, sending a rush of startling stillness pulsating directly into your ears.

Ominis was the first to break the spell, clearing his throat around the tightness that rested there, his cheeks glowing with a soft rosacea, and gestured through the now open doorway.

“After you.”

Your face broke out into an animated grin. “Ominis, you truly possess a rare ability, indeed!” You gently brushed your hand on his shoulder as you passed through the archway. Ominis’ cheeks blushed a darker red, and he reached his hand behind his head, rubbing softly at his neck in embarrassment.

“Oh, er, it’s nothing.”

Sebastian stayed in the back of the group, a scowl on his face and his arm crossed tightly across his chest. He glowered at the door like it affronted him, cursing it for allowing his friend to show his rare gift. Stalking towards the next room, irritation heavily prevalent in his steps, he muttered to himself the phrase you had just spoken in a mocking tone. He wasn’t sure which of you he should feel jealous of— you complimenting Ominis, or Ominis getting complimented by you.

Both, he decided. He was jealous of both.

The three students passed under the bend and entered into the next room of the monolith-lined maze. Once fully inside, the imposing door behind you closed with a loud slam. Sebastian ran at it, pulling desperately at the carvings and pushing with all his strength. Ominis joined him, throwing his weight at it with a grunt. The door didn’t budge.

“Shit!” Hissed the brunette, punching the door one last time before taking in the room behind him. “Guess we’re stuck in here until we find the next room.”

The blond leaned back against the wood, an annoyed puff of hair leaving his mouth. “Until we find the next room? How do we even know that there’s a next room? We could very well just be stuck here until we inevitably die of thirst or hunger, whichever happens first.” Ominis turned his head towards the sound of the pacing boy. “Sebastian, we’re eating you first.”

Sebastian stuttered in outrage, “Why me?!”

“Because it was your idea to come here in the first place!”

“Say that to my face you—”

Tired of listening to the boys argue, you lit the tip of your wand and began to explore the new area you had unlocked. It was a large stone room with a gunmetal gate at one end, a giant lock decorating the middle. Spiderwebs covered every corner, starting from the very far bottom corner and stretching to the upper corner across the room. You shuddered, thinking of the large arachnids you had fought not that long ago. You hated spiders. Making your way closer to the gate, you traced your finger along the lock, noting strange shapes in the metal. It seemed like it wouldn’t take a key like normal, it was a puzzle of some sort.

Turning towards your friends, you tuned back in their argument. They were face to face, arms crossed, with indignant expressions.

“It’s your ancestor that seems to like puzzles so much!”

“Look in a mirror, Sebastian.”

“How dare you!” He stuttered for a moment, wracking his brain for a suitable comeback, “Were you dropped on your head as a child?!”

Ominis scoffed, a sarcastic grin stretching his lips, “Oh, bold of you to assume I was ever held—”

“BOYS!” You shouted for them from the gate. “Can you have your lover’s quarrel later? I found something.”

Their faces instantly softened a fraction at the sound of your voice. They stepped away from each other, embarrassed by their squabble, straightened their cloaks, and walked over to where you stood.

Sebastian came up to the gate, running his fingers along the lock like you did, before grasping at the bars and giving it a good shake. The gate rattled against the ground, scraping at the concrete below, but refused to budge. He took a step closer, craning his head around and looking through the small slits in the metal. His collar dug into his neck uncomfortably. Growling, the boy tugged on the offending cloth.

“This bloody collar—”

The freckled boy stood back, looking at the gate once more for a moment before undoing his robe and tossing it unceremoniously to the ground. He shrugged off his jacket and vest next, leaving him just in his white button down and tie. He quickly pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, shaking out his arms in the process, and loosened his tie before undoing a few buttons near the top of his shirt. Grasping his wand between his teeth, Sebastian took hold of one of the horizontal metal rungs in the gate and pulled upwards with all his might. Still no movement.

A blush began to creep up your neck at the display before you, and you averted your eyes from the very attractive boy. You turned towards Ominis, only to find him in a similar state of undress. He was in the process of carefully undoing the buttons around his cuffs and folding the sleeves to his elbow. You noticed he had neatly gathered his jacket, vest, and robe and placed them atop one of the assorted rocks littering the ground. He began to walk towards the other boy, listening to his struggling grunts of effort. Your blush somehow got brighter.

“Let me try.”

Sebastian took a step back and waved his hands in a “have at it” motion. Ominis approached the gate in a similar stance to the other boy, flexing his forearms and pulling upwards once again. You could see his muscles straining under the material; he may have been slim, but he certainly wasn’t unfit. Eyes skipping from one boy to the other, one with his hands on his hips, panting at the effort he had just exuded, and the other now pondering the gate before him, a finger resting on his chin and hand resting on his other elbow across his chest, you suddenly felt like the room had gotten at least ten degrees hotter.

In your flustered state, you took a step back away from your companions. You bumped into something just behind you, a piece of sharp stone slicing through your shoulder. Releasing a hiss in pain, you grasped at the wound and quickly turned around, looking for the offending object. Just over your shoulder stood a large stone statue of a snake poised to strike. It was resting on two circular bases, one atop the other with just enough space between to twist them to different directions. You noticed symbols decorating the rims of each— they were the same shape and style as the two on the gate lock. You quickly crouched down and took hold of the stone, turning it until both bases lined up with the ones on the lock. A loud click sounded through the room and the gate before you opened.

The three of you quickly turned towards the sound, wands poised in front of you ready to strike. Seeing no danger, you all lowered your weapons and turned back towards the statue. You crouched yet again, running your fingertip along the other symbols.

You spoke to the boys over your shoulder, “It’s a puzzle. You have to match the gate symbols to the ones on the snake.”

Sebastian barked a laugh, coming up behind you and gazing at the sculpture. “Absolutely brilliant, you are! Bet I could do that just as well, eh?” He patted you on your shoulder with pride, not noticing your new injury. You clenched your teeth, a pained hiss escaping through the gaps. The brunette drew his hand back in alarm, looking at the small streak of blood on his palm. He took your arm gently, eyebrows furrowed at the medium sized cut in concern.

“Stars, you’re hurt! What happened? Are you alright?”

You placed your hand over one of his, looking at him over your shoulder and forcing a laugh. “That’s how I found the statue in the first place. I’ll be fine, it’s just a scratch.”

He looked at you with doubt, but let it go, releasing your arm and taking a step back. “If you say so.”

You stood, shaking out your arms and shoulders. His hands felt like small fires against the cool air of the mausoleum.

“Okay, Ominis and I will stay here and look for more of these puzzles. Sebastian, you go look in the other room and see if you find anything. Call out if you need backup.”

Sebastian saluted two fingers in your direction before running at the open gate, grabbing at the taller ledge of the other room and heaving himself up. You watched him disappear onto the other floor. You and Ominis spread out, each taking a different corner of the room. It was bigger than you originally expected, going on for at least the length of a classroom. There was another gate at the very center of the room, the same as the other. Your eyes scanned each corner of your side for the distinct shape of Salazar’s sculpt, calling to Ominis on the other side of the room.

“So, why does Salazar Slytherin like snakes so much, anyway?”

Ominis shrugged, “Some legends say that he was an animagus— that his form was a basilisk.”

You whistled lowly, “That’s a big snake.”

The boy chuckled softly, going back to the original silence directly after. Ominis bit his lip, chewing it over what he should say next. He didn’t like the silence, it made him feel like he was back home. The ambiance of the Scriptorium certainly didn’t help, either.

He took a deep breath before speaking. “Are you truly alright?”

You smiled, moving over to his side where he was feeling along the wall. You rested your hand on his shoulder, a feather light touch that felt like a heavy weight because of his nerves. “I am, I promise. Please don’t worry about me, everything is fine.”

He turned his face towards your voice. “I always worry. About the both of you.”

Your face softened at the confession, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing at the contact. Brushing your thumb against his cheekbone, you felt a surge of nerves in your stomach; butterflies bumping around in the inner lining of your gut. You opened your mouth to speak.

“Ominis, I—”

A short shout cuts through the quiet. You both whip your heads in the direction of the open gate, calling out to the boy on the other side.

“Sebastian, are you alright?”

You hear him fumble around for a moment, calling in return, “The statue bit me! Be careful not to get it wrong!”

Ominis gently grasped your chin, turning it back towards his face. He listened to you expectantly, patiently waiting for you to continue your thought from before. The blond was incredibly nervous, hoping that you couldn’t tell that his hand was shaking. You hesitantly flick your eyes from his irises to his lips, soft and inviting. You wet your own, taking a shaky breath in.

“What were you saying?” Ominis whispered, his face a hairs length away.

Your eyes quickly slid over to the left, feeling incredibly hot under the collar all of a sudden. A strange shaped rock caught your attention, curved at the base like a worm. There it was, the final puzzle. You gasped, fumbling out of Ominis’ hold on you and quickly scurrying over to it, turning the dial to the shapes on the other gate. Just as yours slotted into place, a second click could be heard from the room over. The second gate opened with a loud, rusted creak, leading into a third, and what you hoped was final, room.

Sebastian made his way back over to the two of you, an elated grin stretching across his face as he gazed into the next section of the crypt. Ominis had dropped his arm when you de-tangled yourself, now crossing both in front of his chest with an expression similar to someone who smelled something foul.

The three of you crept into the room, wands poised for any danger that may come forward. The gate slammed shut behind you once more, trapping you there like before.

“Salazar Slytherin isn’t done with us yet,” Ominis whispered, a grave seriousness adorning his visage.

You quietly make your way to the other side of the room where a large, disfigured door lay. It was covered in carvings; scratches marred the corners, flowing dangerously into disturbing images of screaming faces. You felt the air around you grow even colder than before, a shiver running down your spine. There was a flutter of paper to your right, and you swung your wand towards the sound. The tip illuminated an old piece of parchment, covered in dust with sections of it nibbled away by rats. You gently pick up the letter, afraid it would fall apart at the slightest movement. On it was a journal entry of sorts, big looping cursive depicting the fate of the last explorer to make it to this room. You carefully scanned the note, each word filling your chest with dread. Gazing down at the ground near your feet, you quietly gasp at the sight of a decaying skeleton. Its bones were a stark alabaster against the gray concrete floor; spiderwebs weaved throughout the skull and down to the rib cage.

Noctua Gaunt.

You quietly ushered Sebastian over to where you stood, handing him the final journal entry of the woman before you. He scanned it, his eyes growing larger by the second and his face adopting a grim expression. The freckled boy looked at you for confirmation, and you gestured to the skeleton below. He gasped quietly in his throat, looking over his shoulder at the other Slytherin quietly pacing by the gated entrance.

You quietly spoke, sympathy lacing your tone, “Ominis, I’m so sorry to have to tell you this. There’s a note over here, next to a body.” You cleared your throat uncomfortably. “It’s Noctua.”

The boy froze his movements, head tilting down towards the ground in sorrow. “What happened to her?”

“The note says she was stuck in here, and that she could only open the door with an unforgivable curse. She didn’t have anyone else in here with her, so she was unable to escape.”

You walked up to the now shaking boy, his hands grasping at his opposite elbows to ground himself. You gently moved your hand to his shoulder, stroking the joint with your thumb. He roughly shrugged your hand away, returning to his pacing; his face morphed into a look of pain. His hands ran through his hair in anguish, mussying it up into a wild mane.

“She died stuck in here, and we will suffer the same fate. We will be stuck down here forever— the next person to enter will find our bodies like we found hers.”

Sebastian bent down to pick up the note you dropped, studying it closely again. He quickly paced towards you both, anxious nervousness rubbing off of him in waves.

“Don’t give up quite yet. She says that she couldn’t leave because she was alone and had no one to cast the spell on. There’s three of us— we can get out! We just have to cast the unforgivable.”

Ominis threw his hands down in agitation, spitting at the other boy, “That’s dark magic, Sebastian! Unforgivables are unforgivable for a reason. You can’t just cast one, you need to mean it, and I don’t particularly want to hurt either of you. Do you?”

Sebastian’s eyebrows knitted together in irritation, “If it means getting out of here alive and finding a cure for Anne, I’ll do anything I have to.”

You stepped between the two squabbling boys, holding your hands aloft to keep their distance from the other. This argument was getting heated fast, a darker, more dangerous aura rested under the surface than the argument in the prior room. You spoke to the brunette to your left, “Sebastian, which spell is it? What do we need to do?”

He scanned the note for a third time, eyes alight in a combination of rage and panic. His expression grew grave, and he felt something lodge itself in his throat. He forced the words out from around it, slightly choked with emotion, “We need to cast the cruciatus curse.”

Ominis’ wrath was palpable in the air, filling the room like a thick fog. “Absolutely not! There must be another way out. There is no way in Merlin’s name that I’m letting either of you cast that spell!”

The taller Slytherin growled, throwing the note down on the ground and pacing back to the horrifying door. He ran his hand along the faces, each twisted in pain. He sighed, pushing his anger back down into his chest. It would do them no good to argue with each other.

“I understand that you’re scared, Ominis, but there isn’t another spell. This is the only way out.” He took a deep, steadying breath, before finishing his thought. “You’re the only one here who knows the spell. It should be you who casts—”

“Are you soft in the head!? I would rather die than cast that spell again. I question our friendship just at the fact that you would ask that of me.”

Sebastian pressed his forefinger and thumb against the bridge of his nose, pinching it in exasperation. He turned on the balls of his feet towards where you were, silently watching the fight with fright in your eyes. He walked towards you, placing both of his palms on your shoulders and looking deep into your eyes.

“It’s up to us, then.” He paused, searching your face for something. His eyebrows creased in concentration and something else that you couldn’t name. Fear? Anger? Assurance? You weren’t sure. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. He quickly spun away from you, beginning to pace the length of the room while muttering to himself, tapping his wand against his leg in a sporadic rhythm. You watched from your spot next to the door. It seemed to glow with evil energy, spreading its wicked tendrils around the room like a well-fed devils snare. You could almost feel it crawling its way into your nose and mouth, wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air from your lungs. Rapid breaths escaped from your lips, your heart pulsing rapidly in your chest. Your wide eyes, absolutely swimming in terror, refused to leave the daunting door. You open your mouth to speak, before a resolute voice cuts you off from your thoughts.

“Cast it on me.”

Your breath caught in your chest, freezing in your veins as your blood ran cold. Surely you didn’t hear him correctly? He wasn’t asking you to—

“Cast it on me, it’s the only way.”

You slowly turned in his direction, meeting Sebastian’s beautiful brown eyes, normally filled with warmth but now cold and hard. He stood directly across from you, the glow of the door casting a striking shadow on his youthful face. His demeanor was all straight lines; tight and unmoving in discernment. There was no changing his mind, he had made his choice— his figurative bed. He would rather take the curse himself than have to cast it on either of his closest friends. You saw the determination in his eyes, in the thin line of his lips and jagged edges of his clenched jaw. He was an immovable force, and who were you to try and bend physics to your will? You closed your eyes, gathering your resolve, before meeting his eyes once again. The fire behind your irises burned brightly, a blazing inferno ready to take the entire world into its flames.

“Alright, if you’re sure. Do you know the spell?”

He looked at the door again in trepidation before meeting your gaze, something unknown still swirling in his irises. “In theory. I can teach it to you.”

The both of you moved through the motions of the spell, repeating it a few times to make sure you knew what you were doing. The movements in itself felt dirty— wrong, even. Like you weren’t supposed to be privy to this kind of knowledge. Your wand arm felt numb, like the cold was seeping into your very bones and inducing hypothermia. You swallowed thickly, before raising your wand to Sebastian’s chest. You stared into the other’s eyes, both filled with intense worry and fright.

“Are you ready?”

The brunette took a deep breath through his nose, clearing his mind and attempting to calm his rapid heartbeat. He nodded his head, not trusting his voice, eyes squeezing shut in preparation for the unimaginable pain he was about to experience.

Your shaking voice spoke, mouth feeling weird around the accursed word.

“Crucio.”

A slight red spark shot from the tip of your wand, but no pain came to the Sallow boy. His eyes shot open, looking at you across from him. You were shaking like a leaf, staring confused at your wand and then at him. He knitted his brows in angered confusion.

“What happened? Why didn’t it work?”

“I-I don’t know.”

Ominis spoke from the back corner where he had sat himself, head leaning heavily on the wall behind him and his arms resting on the tops of his knees. His face was riddled with resignation. “I told you, you have to mean it. You have to want to inflict pain on the other person.”

Sebastian growled loudly, his teeth clashing together harshly as he clenched his jaw in anger. “If you’re not going to offer anything helpful, just be quiet.”

You stood in stunned silence at the boy's ferocity. He quickly rounded back towards you, teeth clenched in a near snarl. He pointed at you accusingly,

“Why aren’t you angry? You need to be furious! Yell at me— tell me this is all my fault! Let me have it!”

You stuttered at the boy, hands shaking even more forcefully now. You knew what he was doing; he was trying to make you hate him. He wanted you to be so angry at him that you could easily cast the curse. Unfortunately, the tactic seemed to have the opposite effect on you. Your heart ached for the boy, listening to each word he said and knowing somewhere in your heart that he thought this of himself. Apologies filled your mouth and spilled out like a waterfall of dismay. They splashed against the ground and the droplets sprayed everywhere, bouncing harshly against the echo chamber walls.

Sebastian continued yelling, rage pouring from his being, “Stop apologizing! I brought us down here, it’s my fault we’re in this situation to begin with! I’m the reason you have to cast this spell! You didn’t want to come here at all before I basically forced you and Ominis. Look at him, he’s petrified! I did this, cast it on me!”

Tears gathered in your eyes, horrified terror coursed through your body because of the boy across from you. He was breathing heavily, eyes ablaze and nostrils flaring like a bull. You had never seen him like this before. The anger poured from him and swirled around the air like a dense cloud, permeating every inch of the desolate cavern. Ominis hesitantly stood from the corner, intense worry spreading across his face. He slowly approached the two, steps soft and slow, hands outstretched in front of him like he was dealing with a raging animal. He could smell the tension, feel the red hot heat of fury and agitation.

He hesitantly spoke, his voice shaking with a soft timber, “Sebastian, take a step back. You’re scaring them.”

The frenzied boy rounded at his friend, snarling and gnashing his teeth, “No, they have to do this!”

You continued to spew apologies, the words getting swallowed by the thick, maroon fog and evaporating into vapor. Tears cascaded down your frightened face, staring unblinking at your rampaging friend. He was nearly foaming at the mouth in outrage, his eyes wild and hardened. He didn’t look like himself, a complete stranger in his own body. All Sebastian could feel was anger, extremely hot and branding his very soul with a wave of wrath. He could hear your pitiful cries, Ominis’ begging for him to stop. He wouldn’t let you both stand in the way of curing his sister.

“Crucio!”

Your screams filled the small room, ricocheting off the walls and burying inside the duo's ears. Ominis slapped his arms around his head, bending over in pain, his sensitive ears amplifying the violent outburst tenfold. His heart shattered in his chest at the sound of your pain, crushing his soul in its devastating grasp. The sound snapped Sebastian out of his trance, his face morphing into one of absolute horror and revoltion at what he had just done. He dropped his wand in shock, stumbling backwards into the nearest wall and sliding down it. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched you writhe on the floor in never-ending pain. He brought his hands up to his mouth, covering it in distress, and whispered curses and pleading apologies against his skin.

“Oh Merlin, what have I done? I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to.”

Pain— that’s all you knew. Your blood was boiling under your skin, the veins feeling like they were going to burst out of you in a shower of blood at any moment. You clutched your abdomen in agony, nails biting into your arms in desperation. Blood ran down from your hands, coating your sleeves and staining them red. Each organ felt like it was dying slowly, decay seeping deep into your body and coating every surface. Your heart pounded harder than ever before, threatening to combust right through your ribs and out of your chest. Every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession, blazing through your body like a wild inferno and leaving intense burns in its wake. Your head was the worst. It felt like someone stabbed a freezing ice pick through your eye socket, retracting it and pushing back in with each pound of your heart against your skull. Bile rose into your throat, evaporating around the force of your wails of pain. You were curled on the ground, arms tight against yourself in protection. It felt like you would never be happy, be well, again. The torment went on for what felt like years, centuries even, wracking your body with heaving sobs and otherworldly screams.

In an instant it was over. Sparks of residual magic shot against your skin, shaking your body to its core. The world around you was dark and silent, your senses absolutely fried. A heavy weight was resting against your back, pressing against you with a relieving, grounding pressure. Your hearing returned first, flooding in like you had just rinsed the water from them.

“Come back to us! Are you alright? Damn it, please say something!” The panicked voice of Ominis filled your electrified brain, the sound grating against your ears. He pressed his palms against your cheeks and raised your head from its spot on the cold ground, wiping the tears from your face. He rested his forehead against yours, listening closely to your shuddering breaths. “Please, give me a sign that you’re still in there.”

A groan eased its way out of your tight throat, pushing past the damage your screams had done and croaking through like a toad. Ominis sighed in relief, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before gathering you gently in his arms. He stroked your hair, letting the last of the tremors make their way out of your body. Your consciousness faded in and out, lids fluttering open and closed around the blackness resting just behind your eyes.

“Shush now, don’t push yourself. Everything’s going to be okay.” Ominis gently coaxed your head to rest against his collarbone, his cheek pressing against the roof of your head. He continued his movements along your hair absentmindedly, lulling you into a soft sense of security.

The blond spoke to the distraught boy behind him, voice devoid of any emotion. “We need to get them to the infirmary.”

Sebastian broke out of his morose stupor, panic rising in his voice, “We can’t! She’ll know that we’ve used an unforgivable! Not to mention, we’re out past curfew. We’ll likely get expelled, or worse!”

Ominis sighed inwardly, his head leaning back and smacking against the wall behind him with a dull thunk. He knew that Sebastian was right, no matter how much he wanted to throw the boy to the wolves at that very moment. If they were to bring you to the hospital wing the nurse would ask all three of them questions, and none of them were prepared for that. There wasn’t a single lie in the world that would be that convincing. With a final growl of agitation, he made a decision.

“Fine, the Undercroft, then.” He leveled the taller boy with a harsh glare. “Go get whatever you’re looking for and meet us down there. I hope this trip was worth it, Sallow.”

The clock tower sounded three times, signaling the beginning of the witching hour. Two students rested against the chaise lounge conjured up out of an old shipping crate. Your shoulder had been dressed, the bandage peeking out from under your ripped blouse. The same was done for the indentations on your arms, half moons lining your biceps in a circle from your sharp nails digging into your skin. Ominis gently stroked your hair from where your head rested on his lap. You had fallen asleep not long ago, your quiet whines of pain tempered out and gave way to startling silence. Anger festered under the boy’s skin, warming him to an uncomfortable degree. It burned in the back of his mind, boiling against the memory of your screams and whimpers of immense pain. He had half a mind to curse Sebastian where he had stood in the Scriptorium. Ominis heard his panicked breaths and whispered apologies after he brought you to your knees, truly realizing the damage that he had done and the dangers of dark magic. Good, he thought. Maybe he’d finally stop moving down the dark path that he was so set on. He deserved to beg for your forgiveness.

The metal gate of the Undercroft squeaked open, the sound of heavy footfalls following after. Ominis gently picked up your sleeping head, standing from the chaise and lowering you onto one of the many pillows lining the cushions. He quickly paced towards the brunette, eyes blazing with barely concealed fury. Sebastian paid no mind, flipping through the large tomb he had collected from Salazar’s Scriptorium. He looked up and saw the approaching boy, not noticing the very prevalent anger on his face.

“Ominis, you’re not going to believe what I found—”

The smaller boy slammed into him, pressing his forearm against his neck and shoving him harshly into the nearest wall. His wand was pressed against his chin, glowing menacingly in the candlelight of the hideaway. The blond’s mouth was twisted into a gruesome snarl, teeth looking like fangs in the dim lighting. Sebastian gulped against the arm pressed against his larynx. He dropped the book in surprise, a cloud of dust puffing up from the ground at its harsh landing. Even though Sebastian knew that Ominis couldn’t truly see him, the boy’s heated glare seemed to set fire to his very soul.

Ominis growled at the taller boy in a gravely low voice, his teeth gnashing around each word. “If you ever hurt them again, you will be dead where you stand. This is the last I want to hear of dark magic, Sebastian. You’ve gone too far; people have gotten hurt. Promise me that you’ll stop— you’ll find some other way to heal Anne, or this friendship will continue no longer.”

Sebastian nodded as much as he could around his friend’s arm, squeezing the words out of his crushed throat, “Yes, I understand, I’m sorry!”

The anger seemed to evaporate from the smaller boy in mere seconds, his arms dropping to his sides and his shoulders slumping. He grasped the front of the freckled boy’s shirt, leaning his forehead against his chest with a heavy sigh.

“I almost lost you both today. I can’t do that, don’t make me live through that again. Please, I can’t lose anyone else, I can’t bear the thought.”

His shoulders began to shake, tremors rocking his entire body and sending the tears gathering in his eyes down his pale cheeks. He softly cries into the shirt of his friend, grasping harder at the cotton between his fingers and burying his face even deeper. The freckled boy stands still for a moment, startled by the sudden emotional whiplash. He hesitantly raises his arms and circles them around the shoulders of the crying boy, looking over to your sleeping form with guilt swirling in his eyes.

He had hurt both of his friends today over something he thought was so trivial, so insignificant. He just wanted to find a cure for his sister, not cause undeniable pain to those he loved. He truly was turning into a monster; the dark magic he was so fascinated by had begun to circle around his heart, squeezing it with its thick tentacles. Sebastian buried his head into Ominis’ neck, deeply breathing in his scent. The mildew of the cellar was thick against his skin, but reminisce of his expensive cologne and natural scent, something musky and rich, still lingered there. He focused on it, the familiar smell warming his insides and bringing his heartbeat to a slight increase.

He hadn’t promised the boy that he’d stop exploring the dark arts, instead twisting his words into something that sounded like agreement. Sebastian knew that he would come to regret that decision, but he couldn’t give up on Anne. She was his flesh and blood, his twin sister. She was everything to him. He knew that he would hurt his two closest friends more than words can express with his decisions, but deep in his heart he believed that he was doing the right thing.

With a heavy heart, Sebastian basked in the comfort of the Undercroft and the arms wrapped around his waist, praying to anyone who would listen that this wouldn’t be the last time he felt this safe.

AN: Did I make an "Ominis gets pegged" joke? Yes, yes I did.

***

like what you read? here's more!

123 notes · View notes

shroudkeeper · 9 months

Text

06. prompt / ring

Namazu.

Of all the ventures you wished to undertake, under the cover of nightfall, you requested to visit them. I admit, I was anticipating to spend a few bells under the lingering blooms that clung to the end of this summer's season, where I may read to you my poorly crafted haiku and you indulged me with your most gentle smile.

But we find ourselves here, far from the tranquility of the gardens and whispers of the cool evening air, it is all replaced by the jubilant cries of わっしょい ( Wasshoi ) as a palanquin arrived at your feet expectantly and seperated us; I was suspicious that these catfish were quite aware already of what you were. I should have known, you appeared to be among welcomed company gave no motion of protest as they lead you to the yagura stage and helped you up.

Surrounding you, their small forms danced and squeaked, their bells scintillate with the splashes of amber that washed over from the torches alit around you, and rang loudly as if to announce to the kami of your performance. The drums sound like thunder, resonating into the electrified, charged ambient.

How many times have you done this, escaped your well constructed gilded cage, and gave yourself permission to simply enjoy an evening free from the burdens of your duty?

I had reservations about the company you kept up there, finding their behaviors unusual and often frivolous, but you appeared drawn to them. And in turn, they seemed to appreciate your company and excitedly cheered you on as your fans flew into the air and your silks billowed around your form. You did not appear to tire, instead, your smile grew and your face was aglow with radiance.

I wanted to bottle up that expression, this unadulterated joy painted across your features. When the dance concluded, you were busied by the school of catfish that wished to speak with you.

Seems I would await my chance.

Meanwhile, I would not squander this opportunity, of course, to introduce myself to the others, one look at their goods and I already saw a chance at profit.

I know, it is rather difficult to break away from old habits.

It was just a few moments that I stepped away from your side to spark some conversations, it was not long, and the squeaks take a bit of getting used to. However, short these conversations were, when I turned to find you, you had separated from your friends and stood alone from the group, staring at a single bell.

In the moons I have come to know you, I realized that there is yet so much to unravel about the silent world you live in. I often catch you staring off into the darkness, a melancholic expression veils your features, it is the same look you wear now, unblinking.

"M'lady Takahashi, is there something bothering you? Are you tired?" I hope to break you from the trance you seem to be in, perhaps my tone betrayed me and revealed my concerns, nevertheless, you break from your reverie with a soft, reassuring smile; light glimmered in your auric gaze when they met mine and I scraped the emotion in my voice as I became pleasantly overwhelmed to find that naught was amiss.

"Would you like me to purchase it for you, M'lady?" I had to bite back the desire to call her something more personal, but in present company I kept myself in check and instead I patiently waited for her response.

In truth, I could grant her anything she wished. I would find a means to do it, empty my coffers if she desired it of me, all she had to do was ask.

But she never did.

..And I doubt she would now.

I immediately feel something in my chest tightened and a faint whisper of tension ran along the curve of my jaw as her hands extend forward, signaling that she wished to speak. Anticipation begins to burrow its way into my core.

❛ In another time, when I was but a young girl still fresh to the world and all of its majesty, my parents would take me with them to the shrines with offerings. Back then you would see the suzu: bells much like the one before us. I would rush quickly to the shrine, leaving my parents behind, just to tug on the rope with all my might and ring them. The beautiful sound would sink into my bones and my heart felt full to near bursting at how they echoed into the air. At first, I had no recognition of what their purpose was until my father explained it to me the last time we visited. We ring it to call the kami, to repel evil spirits that would dare tread near, it was a means to conserve the sanctity of the sacred grounds. Unfortunately, the shrine was turned to rubble and ash, forgotten by the people and overrun by flora. It is a monument of simpler days that I have been working on restoring. When I visited years ago, I could find no sign of the bells, but their music lives on in my heart. Perhaps I may appear silly to come here and join the Namazu, but the sound of their own bells, how they ring with unbridled joy, part of me hopes that the kami may hear them. Since I can no longer ring them myself. ❜

Everything you do is intentional, I am starting to understand that. After your hands returned to fold each other at your chest, I felt the words I wanted to say lodged in my throat. There was nothing I could say, instead my actions will speak at length of my intentions.

From the Namazu, I made purchase of this bell, and though they barely asked for much of me, I gave them plentiful to provide this as an offering to you and the shrine you have cared for.

"If you will allow me in honoring not only your father's memory, but to bring to life the melody that has lived on in your heart. I wish to place this upon the altar of your shrine." When the words finally came, it was a dam of emotions that poured from me that could not be likened to any poem that I have written you.

There was something profound and intimate in opening up to someone, to feel something inside you thaw away from the warmth the other person emits. Sharing this with you, being welcomed into your shrine, a hallowed place, is the highest honor.

I placed the bell on the altar and hoped that the kami would hear its, hollow, beautiful sound and return here, where you will be waiting. That you will be protected when I am not around, and others may watch over you in your solitude.

I may not win any favors with your now father, but perhaps the one that loved you just as dearly will know that you never forgot his teachings, and perhaps he may grant me the blessing of allowing me to remain at your side. To help you repair what you hold dear to your heart.

And to have an abundance of opportunities to ring bells at any future shrines we visit..

..together.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv writing #hancock fitzgerald #kikyo takahashi #and her beloved father ;_;

47 notes · View notes

fountainpenguin · 2 months

Text

"We could have ourselves quite a fling... Tail to tail, feather to feather- don't you think we oughta flock together~?" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 30 - “Scintillate (Bdubs)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

After a long debate, the Jungle Duo agree to restructure their archaeologist roleplay into romance. Bdubs can roll with anything- it's fine! He's not feeling lonely and worthless after passing his phantom flock captain title to Martyn.

Grian, who just took a slap in the face from Scar rejecting his QPR proposal, opts to throw caution to the wind like the chaos-chasing bird he is. Let's plan a little roleplay...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

BdoubleO100

Status: Taking the lead

Captain of New Star Station’s phantom hybrid flock

💙 🧡 💚

Grian’s idea of a skin change, apparently, was pulling his goggles down over his eyes and switching out his red sweater for a green one. When Bdubs gives him a pointed look, Grian whips his Sherlock Grian hat out from behind him and situates it carefully on his curls. They’re extra fluffy today… Bdubs wonders drearily if that’s just part of the costume change or if Grian’s trying to get a reaction out of him. Oh, he’ll get a reaction…

Bdubs crosses his arms. There are several farm servers and they keep the portals in a hallway-shaped building of the same name. One’s for sheer optimization- Testing, fiddling, and demonstrating farms at max efficiency. Several are for mobs. One of the food servers is a little tamer and you get a lot of recipe theorists practicing their culinary crafting in there. One server’s packed with restaurants. Kinda defeats the purpose when it won’t leave you saturated in Between, but Scott likes to review the required resources (read: taste-test) before he approves them into New Star.

Then, well… There are the carrot servers. Several of ‘em, actually, just to give people elbow room. Nice way to minimize running into an ex. There are some servers with nice ballrooms or gardens to walk through, but Grian specifically asked for beds. So, cabins and beds is what he’s gonna get. Bdubs waits near the portal entrance (away from the line) and starts tapping his foot as Grian jogs up to join him. “I thought I said you don’t wanna attract attention in there.”

“Honestly, you know what I’m like. This is as good as it gets with me, mate.” Grian looks him up and down. “Don’t look at me that way when you barely changed either. Bdubs! Turn around for me.”

Bdubs gives a grunt. He picked a skin with a dark blue shirt for this, plus gray checkerboard pants. Very soft. Perfect snugglewear. He’s still got his mossy shawl on, but it’s not a big deal if he’s recognized. He pops by the carrot server all the time. Not always ‘cuz he’s here to see someone… Far too many people steal away in their low-energy moments and forget the server will kick them out when they’re in the last few minutes of phantom hour. This place is a feeding frenzy for phantom hybrids ten minutes before the clock tower chimes.

This is where the lower-ranked members of the flock hunt, actually, ‘cuz it’s so easy it doesn’t take any skill. Bdubs can see two of them perched high in the alcoves, chatting and licking code strings from between their fingers. They’re both splattered in blue. Well-fed. It’s way too easy here.

Maybe it’s time I let you two roam the streets.

They’re not the only ones, either. The Fox Dragon’s phantoms are loitering here too. Easy pickings, they must’ve figured out. Bdubs itches to nip at them, tell ‘em to go do some real hunting in the city, but this isn’t his circus and those aren’t his monkeys. Martyn’s the one who’d have to shoo ‘em off, and he’s back at the clock tower like a good boy. He better be.

At least the rival captain’s not here. She’s got smaller wings, but Bdubs isn’t her biggest fan. She’s fine. But introducing two captains into one hunting ground without a lot of buildup is always gonna be trouble. She and Martyn prickled around each other when Bdubs set him up on a “blind playdate” Monday night. When he and Scott went back for pick-up, they were building with Lego at the same table and talking about whatever, but the ruffled hair and many scratch marks told a story that didn’t need questions asked.

Still… New Star’s a tempting hunting ground. If Martyn can’t hold his own, Charlotte’s captain might try to throw him out.

Welp. Good lesson to learn if it come to it. Not his problem tonight. While Grian smirks, tugging at the end of his mossy shawl, Bdubs turns his head towards the portal mouth. The line’s been moving at a decent speed. Grian moves towards it, but Bdubs hesitates before plodding over to join him.

“What’s up?” Grian asks, folding arms behind his head.

“… You’re gonna get scoped out as a new kid. It’s your first time on the server. We’re dropping in at spawn. That’s where they try to get you.”

“Who was this?”

“Code sellers. Don’t look at ‘em.”

“Oh.” Grian goes quiet then. People ahead of them disappear inside the portal. After a moment, Grian asks, “Did you log out at spawn?”

“Near there, yeah. At least, I think I did… But just to be safe, give me ten seconds before you step in after me. Oh, and… We’re gonna be around sparked villagers, so try not to show your hands too much. Scares ‘em.”

Grian nods. They step into a fenced-off little area of space. The white blocks and pink mist of the portal yawn in front of them. HALO Copper’s watching, splitting groups and asking people one at a time if they’re consenting to step inside. One of New Star’s phantom hybrids drapes atop the portal blocks in silent reminder that she’ll lunge if requested. Grian moves to the side while HALO Copper shoots Bdubs a skeptical look.

“Business or pleasure?”

“Oh, he better not give me any trouble.” Bdubs hooks a thumb at Grian, who waves back. “I’m here with G. No funny business and no hunting. Cross my middle heart.”

Couple more questions. The usual. Then Bdubs pops through the pink mist. He mentally grabs hold and swishes downwards, landing with a shimmer when he’s on-server and the mist is gone.

BdoubleO100 joined the game

Everything looks to be in order. He’s near the “town square,” in a partitioned-off spot surrounded by fence posts. There’s a bed a few blocks away. You’re s’posed to set spawn at the bed upfront before you leave, or at the very least they want you to break the bed you were using. You can probably imagine how awkward it’d be to die and respawn in a room someone else rented for the evening.

The spawn area’s got an open sky. It’s pretty much a town, complete with a market. The usual solicitors try and get his attention, but Bdubs flips up his hood and ignores them. He struts back and waits around the square ‘til Grian shimmers in at spawn in front of him.

Grian joined the game

Grian shows up stretching high, wings fanned out around him. Show-off. Bdubs grunts in memory of what he lost, but doesn’t comment. Since Grian changed skins, his feathers have lost their high-saturation shimmer, but there’s no denying he still looks good. Mossy green’s a pretty color on him.

Can’t wait to help with that.

“Whoo, what a rush,” Grian muses, and starts parsing the feathers in his wings as though examining them for the first time in his life. “It’s not vanilla here, then.”

“‘Cuz your wings didn’t shrink?” Baby wings are the default if you haven’t touched an elytra yet. Dog’s Life is one of the exceptions to that rule since they’ve got trait mods going on. “Yeah, the admin knows people like to flaunt ‘em. It’s why they don’t make you scrub client-side mods off before you join. C’mon- gotta put our names in the book and tell the staff when to check up on us.”

“Runs like a wheel,” Grian remarks, trotting after him.

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

#trafficfic #BdoubleO100 #Grian #Dog's Life #Dog's Life art #fic announcement #ridwriting #apparently art #trafficshipping #hermitshipping #??? it's complicated #Hilariously I still see this as platonic because. have you met them? but.#mcyt #trafficblr

16 notes · View notes

aimlesspixel · 6 days

Text

ISAT: Scintillation Chapter 6

Spoilers for Isat ahead.

It's hard to fall asleep you're probably still excited from earlier. You breathe. The king's voice echoes through your mind "The mountains!!! The sea!!! The lightless sand, dark like the night sky!!!".

Could you see it now? The place you both lost? Do you want to? The stars twinkle outside the Inn.

You awaken to the sounds of people getting ready around you. You must have eventually fallen asleep watching them. You're still sleepy but the sun is already casting light on the inn. You move to get up and are surprised to see Isa moving around too, you didn't notice him getting up.

After a few more days of travel your conversation is cut short when- crack a branch breaks nearby snap another crk whatever it is it's getting closer, everyone gets into position for battle. After a moment it reveals itself. A sadness?

Odile - "I guess defeating the king can't fix all of the issues he caused." Isabeau - "Well at least we're fighting this one. One less for everyone else!" Mirabelle - "Hang back Sif don't overexert yourself!"

Bonnie at least seems happy to not be the only one on support. The fighting goes smoothly. A few blows back and forth then it's over.

Mira tends to Odiles damage while you go tend to Isa's.

Siffrin - "Doctor Sif at your service." Isabeau - "Oh my own personal doctor huh? Lucky me!"

Lucky him! You look through your bag it for some tonic. Isa's got a decent gash that you'd rather deal with now but… Seems they used most of the tonic supply when they were pushing through the house.

You know… you could save the tonic if you just healed him yourself. A little craft should be okay. Right? Yeah. You close your eyes and… [Done Heal]

Isabeau - "Whoa Sif I didn't know you could do that!"

You made sure they didn't know. Going through it all alone. Nevermind that though. Is Isa all right? Yes. Alright now to-

A wave of nausea washes over you.

Mirabelle - "Sif." Odile - "Siffrin…"

Your doctors don't seem to approve of your craft usage, not that you need them to let you know it was a bad idea.

Odile - "You wouldn't have happened to use craft on Isa when we could've waited for Mira instead right Siffrin?" Her smile seems to practically radiate frost. It's honestly impressive especially considering the enchantments on your cloak are temperature regulating.

Isabeau - "It was so cool though m'dame."

You let out a small chuckle against the dizziness lingering in your head.

Odile - "It doesn't matter how cool it is, Siffrin needs to lay off the craft we still don't know the extent to which their craft is exhausted." Mirabelle gives you a look of concern "Should we stop for today then?" Odile eyes you "Well Siffrin? How are you feeling?" Siffrin - "Stellar~." You go to stand up and- Isabeau - "Whoa!" Yeah Isa caught you on the way back down, definetly not getting that past Odile. At least he's feeling better (and very comfy to collapse into).

You're in charge of preparing the camp area with Mira while Isa get's firewood and Odile teaches Bonnie to cook a new recipe. It's Ka Buan but you can't upend your planning for a book you found after your last supply trip.

You're setting up the finishing touches on Odile's tent when you hear the ding ding of Mirabelles brooches approach.

Mirabelle - "That's just about it. Are you feeling better Sif?"

Your head is still thumping and you feel tired, so a solid no. You don't want to worry Mira but you can't lie to her either so you just look away.

Mirabelle - "Well?" Siffrin - "…" Siffrin - "Come on Mira no need to be so intents. I'm feeling a bit better."

Mirabelle appears annoyed for a moment before speaking "Well… all right but keep the puns down you know some of us find them, unbearable."

Was that a pun as well? It sounded like it but what's a bear again? You can hear her stammering slightly behind you.

Oh stars she's starting to worry you didn't like it! Do something!!! You turn to look at her and- wrong move she saw your confused look and it just got worse. Quick Siffrin Quick! Bear, bear, bear. It's an animal lives in the forest… AH yes!

You finally get it and laugh but stars that was hard. You really did start to rely on the loops to get these right, at least you got it in the end.

Mirabelle's face relaxes before hardening. Did she notice you forgot the word!

Bonnie - "Oh C R A B!"

Timely Bonnie interuption! You both look over to see that whatever step of the cooking process they are on has caused the wok to emerge in flame! Odile seems relatvely unfazed besides her reaction to Bonnies reaction, namely panic.

Hopefully dinner will be alright.

#fanfic #in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #lgbtqia+#isat scintillation

10 notes · View notes

bagog · 7 months

Text

N7 Month, 2023 - Day 16: Storm

A soft little go-nowhere fluff piece for Ryder and Gil

It hadn’t been in Ryder’s plan to stop for long on Eos. A quick drop in with the Vault to ensure that everything was still running smoothly beneath the surface. But once they’d sat down in Prodromos, Vetra had gotten Kallo mixed up in some haptic interface optimizers one of the research scientists was working on, and so they stayed an extra few hours so those could be installed.

Of course there’d been a fire fight with the Kett on the way back from the Vault. Once they returned to the Tempest—and just as Vetra and Kallo had promised to be back aboard—Drack had gotten an urgent and private communique and had tracked off into the wastes, said he’d be back in four hours.

Then, of course, Liam decided—as long as they had the time—he could fiddle with the Nomad and finally install the stereo he’d first purchased back on the Nexus weeks ago. This still wasn’t done as Drack came back, armor scuffed and face blackened with soot, and so they waited.

Ryder was trying not to hover over Liam’s work, and had instead sat down by the big windows at the back of the ship, read a book, and watched the light on Eos go from burning bright, to a dusky orange.

“There you are,” Gil came up the stairs, gave Ryder a furtive grin. “I was looking at the weather report out of Prodromos. Looks like there’s going to be a big storm just skirting the edge of the mountains over there.”

“Hm,” Ryder didn’t pay it much attention, but warmly smiled at Gil as he sat down next to him. “A what? A storm?”

“Yeah, you know, kind Eos was famous for. Well, before the Pathfinder opened the Vault and made it livable again.” He looked at Ryder expectantly, but Scott only shrugged. “Do you want to go up on the ridge and watch the storm roll in with me?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Gil,” Scott gave a worried look at the falling sun. “Soon as Liam’s done in town, we’ve got to get back in space.”

“Please, Scott?” Gil leaned in, lifted an eyebrow. “Do this with me?”

Scott sighed.

Twenty minutes later, they were atop the ridge, the Tempest and Prodromos small and distant down below. As the sun set, the sandstorm blew across the horizon. It was a tendril of living black that seemed to flow parallel to the ground, its interior flashing sparks of blue and green as the static within churned. As it poured before the setting sun, it turned to gold along its edges, casting a shadow that came almost to the foot of the ridge they were sitting on. They sat comfortably, sprawled on the rocks, side by side. They listened to the faintest of distant thunder rumbles and the sound of the wind growing calm as it spread from the storm.

“This really is beautiful,” Scott said softly. He leaned his head on Gil’s shoulder. “It’s funny, when we first set down here, I hated the constant storms. All the time, destroying everything we were trying to build. I’ve never seen one like this.”

“Me either,” Gil put his arm around Scott and leaned back against a rock. “On Earth, I used to watch the storms go over the hills. Never seen a big sandstorm like this, though.”

Ryder looked down at his wrist, noticed the communication light on his omni-tool was blinking. Probably Kallo telling him they were finally ready to go. The sun sank below the horizon, its last rusted hues swallowed up by the storm, until it was dark and only the distant lightning gave any indication the storm was still there. But Scott could still feel it, static scintillating on the air. It made him hold Gil tight, breathe in the ozone and the faintest hint of Gil’s soap.

“Thanks,” Scott said at last. “This is… part of why I love you, honestly. Nights like this. Gives me perspective on things.”

“You’re welcome,” Gil chuckled, turning his face into the breeze from the south. “Honestly, I just wanted to watch the storm. I wanted to watch it with you, I mean,” In the dim light, Scott could barely see Gil’s eyes. “Share something else with the man I’m sharing my life with.”

Scott smiled. They had better be heading back, they could be in space in an hour, and back to the Nexus by tomorrow afternoon. But, with a sigh, he made up his mind that they would spend the night planet-side. He couldn’t explain why, something about perspective.

#n7month #n7 month #mass effect #fanfic #gil brodie #scott ryder #i... don't remember their ship name to tag

17 notes · View notes

seospicybin · 2 years

Text

LAST INNING.

PART II

Finale of Innings series.

Chapters: Part I

Seungmin x reader. (s,f,a) Your relationship with Seungmin shifts as you enter the real world where your expectations don’t always meet realities and it’s getting harder to keep up with your boyfriend’s rising fame as a baseball player.

Author's note: This is it! The last, last, LAST inning! It's time to say goodbye to my favorite couple and thank you to everyone who have been following Innings series from chapter 1! Ily *group hugs*

It was your very first time attending Seungmin’s baseball game.

It wasn't much different from the baseball that he did back in college but everything was bigger and greater, the crowds were passionate like their lives depend on it and you realized how big of a deal Seungmin is.

Then it hits you, he is a professional athlete now, he's a part of something bigger than what you had in mind. Maybe the fact that you had been living with him, seeing him up close and knowing him personally, better than anyone else, made you forget about all these great things he achieved.

As you saw him run across the field and scored a point for his team, finished the game with a victory, you felt immense pride for him, not as a girlfriend but as a mere spectator who knew how much he had grown.

The cheers were so loud, it was deafening and the lights shone down on him so bright.

He was shining, scintillating, almost blinding, the brightest star in your sky.

You hugged him and almost broke into tears when you finally met him after the game.

"You were amazing!" You exclaimed into his chest.

He lifted you off the ground for a few seconds then put you down again, "it was because of your good luck kiss."

You lightly punched him on the chest and quickly retracted yourself, aware of the presence of his other teammates in the room.

"Do you mind waiting a little bit more?" He asked, "I have some interviews to do."

"Oh?"

His friend whom you had dinner with a few days ago appeared behind him, putting his muscular arm around him, "and we'll have drinks after!" he added.

"Oh, hi!" You said, waving your hand at him.

Seungmin laughed at him, "No, I have to get my girlfriend home. She cooked dinner for me."

But he ignored him and looked at you, "is it okay if I take him for a few drinks tonight?" His friend asked again for your permission.

"Everyone else is also going," he gestured to all of the other members.

"Sure, of course! He doesn't need my permission," you quickly responded.

He shot you a bright smile, "you got a good girlfriend here," he beamed at Seungmin.

"But please bring him back in one piece!" You said to his friend.

He gave you a thumb up and left to tell the other.

Seungmin shook his head at you, "I want to stay at home and eat dinner with you," he said.

"Come on! We all know my cooking is not that great," you playfully remarked and let him squeeze both of your hands.

He brought your hands to his mouth and kissed your knuckles, "it's not that great but it's alright."

You gently pushed him and took a step back, "you're so not getting any tonight," you taunted.

He quickly pulled you close by your hand, "then I'll be the one giving it to you," he whispered into your ear.

You bit your lower lip, holding the urge to squeal at his seductive words, and pushed him just a little harder this time.

You immediately gave him a quick peck on the lips, "Have fun!"

He rummaged inside his duffel bag and pulled out his car key, "take the car and be careful," handed the keys to your hand.

You stood on your tiptoe and briefly kissed him on the cheek, waving your hand at him as you exited the room.

Seungmin successfully avoided getting drunk but he was tipsy enough to enter the passcode two times and succeed on the third try.

He was mostly tired because it had been a long day, he kicked his shoes off and dropped his things on the floor, promising to take care of it tomorrow.

The apartment was dark but he could see that the light was still turned on in the bedroom, he went in and saw you were already sleeping but forgot to turn off the bed lamp and a book left unopened next to your head.

He smiled, guessing that you fell asleep while reading a book then looked at you sleeping so peacefully with one side of your face on the pillow like that, lost in what he hoped was a sweet dream.

He took the book to put it away until he saw something sticking out in between the pages, a piece of paper and he pulled it out to see that it was a train ticket.

His heart sank and thought, this was it. The date printed on it must be the day that you'll finally leave him.

He stared at it for a good while and the date had been grimly stared back at him, warning him that he only have a few days to keep you here.

He put the ticket back inside the book and put it on the bedside table.

He held you so close on the bed that night, knowing that he would not be able to do that in the upcoming days.

You stirred in your sleep and mumbled something he didn't understand but put your hand on his chest.

He pulled you closer, held you tighter, and put his head in the crook of your neck, "stay close to me," he softly said with a kiss on your temple.

He woke up with you sleeping on his back with your hand playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Turning his head to the side to look at you, instead of your bright smile which he always sees the first thing in the morning, you were pouting at him.

"Good morning!" He said, slowly turning on the bed to face you.

You didn't say anything but overlapped his body with yours then propped your chin on his chest.

It was obvious that you were upset about something and it got him started thinking of things that cause it, "are you upset because I came home late?"

You shook your head.

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was almost 10 am.

"Because I overslept?" He tried again.

You shook your head again, "close but not exactly it,"

Seungmin gently brushed your hair with his fingers, "because I didn't give you one tonight?" He tried again with an eyebrow raised.

You scoffed at him, "that too but no."

He put his hands and cupped your hands, "can you tell me what is it so I can make it right?"

Seungmin was always soft-spoken but he always knew when to use it on you. He put on a sweet smile and caressed your cheek, softening you with endearing gestures like this.

"You promised that we'll have a picnic today," you finally answered with a frown.

His eyes widened in surprise and his hand flew to his forehead, "oh, I forgot about it!"

He put his hands around you and pulled you into a hug, "I am so sorry," he sincerely apologized.

He tilted your head up, "Why didn't you wake me up? We could have left early this morning!"

"How can I wake you up when you're sleeping so well?" You whined and sulked at once.

"Then let's just go now, I think we can still make it if we leave now," he put the duvet away.

He scrambled to get off the bed but you stopped him and pulled him down back onto the bed, "it's okay. We don't have to go today," you told him.

"Why?" He asked while laying next to you on the bed.

"Don't you see? It's going to rain," your head gestured to the window with the skyline in a shade of gray.

Seungmin sighed and was partly relieved that it wasn't entirely his fault that that plan was canceled.

"Do you want to do something else then?" He asked, kissing your neck with a hand on your stomach.

You turned your head to meet his mouth and locked lips with him, "let's just stay in. Just us two," you said with a smile.

"Sounds good to me," he agreed.

You stayed on the bed looking out the window as the sky turned darker and darker until the rain came down with the raging wind.

Seungmin had been searching for the right opportunity to talk to you about the train ticket but every time the chance came up, he couldn't bring himself to talk about it.

"I think I should dip it into the sauce first, you think?" You asked as you held a piece of chicken but wondered which sauce you should try first.

When you looked at Seungmin, he was staring at you yet his head was drifting somewhere.

You gently touched his forearm and squeezed, it seemed to work to snap him out of his daze.

"You've been doing that the whole day," you told him then placed a piece of chicken on his plate.

"Doing what?"

"Staring at me but not saying anything," you answered and finally settled on a sauce to dip your chicken into.

"It's nothing," he answered.

"It's never nothing," you said with a glare.

You put down your food and leaned forward at him, "do you have something to say to me?"

Again, Seungmin couldn't bring himself to talk about it because addressing it only meant that he got to readily accept the truth that you'll be leaving him soon.

Seungmin smiled most convincingly, "it's just that I've been eating a lot today and I have to work out harder tomorrow," he lied.

"Only think of the food you're enjoying today. You can think about working out tomorrow," you said with a grin.

The were so many chances to tell you about it and he missed it, or purposely missed it.

To be exact, Seungmin was avoiding the topic.

You watched a movie together on the sofa after dinner with you sitting with him, resting your back on his chest while sharing a blanket.

He called your name and you looked over your shoulder at him, "yes?"

He retreated again and placed a sweet kiss on your lips instead.

And it was Seungmin’s turn to be clingy to you, holding you close and kissing you at every opportunity.

You had mistaken it for him being needy for you, "and you said you're the one who will be giving me one," you teased.

Seungmin couldn't say no to you fucking him and he got to lay back, watching you move against him and touching yourself right before his eyes.

You angled his head to meet your gaze, "you don't like it, baby?"

Seungmin’s anxiety was visible and it was impossible for you to not notice.

"I like it so much," he sincerely said.

Sex with you will always be something and he will truly enjoy every second of it.

He hurriedly put his arms around you, touching you right like he always does on you, and kissed you so deep that you ran out of breath in a matter of seconds.

"You feel so good," he said with a kiss on your neck.

"You always know how to make me feel good,"

His words riled you up the best way and made you quicken the pace with your hands on his shoulders for support.

"I love everything about you," he cooed.

"You mean so much to me, you know that?" he said next.

You abruptly stopped moving at the turn of mood as his face turned serious all of a sudden.

You went to hold his face with your hands, "Seungmin..." you softly called him.

"What is it?" You genuinely asked him this time, rubbing his jaw with your thumb.

He sighed, guessing that he couldn't get away from it anymore, and kissed you on the lips before speaking.

"I saw the train ticket," he finally admitted.

And you understood why he acted slightly strange today, "oh Seungmin, baby," you cooed.

"I was about to tell you about it, I swear," you quickly told him before he hastily pulled a conclusion out of it.

"I know," he said.

"I just... I hate knowing that you'll be leaving me soon," and it felt like someone had just punctured his lungs and air kept coming out of them, making it harder to breathe.

You put your forehead on him, "but I'm not leaving you," you said.

You put a few inches of space between your face and looked down at his face, into his gleaming eyes, "No matter where I'll be, I'll always be yours," you assured him.

You took his hand and put it on your chest where your heart lies beneath, "I will always be yours."

Seungmin sighed again and put his hand away to replace it with his head, pushed so close to your chest.

"I want you to stay with me," he said with so much despair.

"If you want me to stay then I'll stay with you," You told him, genuinely not opposing the idea if he wanted you to stay, "I believe we can arrange a few things to make it work."

He took your hands and sighed, he knew that would be so selfish of him and unfair to you.

He shook his head, "I don't want to get in the way of you achieving your dreams."

You put your forehead on him, "you will never be in my way, you are a part of my dreams."

Seungmin kissed your collarbone and sighed, "I don't want to lose you."

"You'll always have me," you assured him.

He looked up at you, "Promise?"

"I promise," you answered without a beat.

Then sealed the deal with a kiss.

Seungmin treated the last days he had to spend with you like it was the last days he would have with you on earth.

He made the most of his days and fill them with your smiles and laughs, kisses and touches in between.

He tried to imprint everything into the back of his head, bad or good, everything that made each moment he spent with you precious.

"Baby, wake up," he softly said with a hand caressing your head.

You sleepily smiled at him and caught the clock on the bedside table showing it was barely 6 in the morning, "it's early," you mumbled.

"But we have to leave early," he said to you.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "are we going somewhere today?"

He nodded while smiling like a puppy.

He let you sleep some more on the ride to where he wanted to take on a picnic he promised long ago, using his jacket as a blanket.

It was the place that his teammate recommended, it was a nature park with a beautiful lake. The warm sunrays hit your face so beautifully, making you glow and forming a halo around your head.

"You're so beautiful," it came out of his mouth naturally like that.

You groaned, "oh please, I just woke up from napping in the car," and went to hug him, still drowsy.

You took a long walk around the park and enjoyed the greenery that slowly made you feel refreshed with Seungmin holding your hands along the way.

He spotted the lake and suggested getting on one of the boats.

"This not a good idea," you said as you get on the boat and it went unstable after you placed one foot in.

Seungmin tightly held the boat as you got in, "I'll keep it steady, go on," he encouraged you.

You hesitated but seeing Seungmin held the boat with so much strength like that, you hurriedly got in and carefully sat on it.

Seungmin got in next and you gripped the boat, afraid that it would topple to the side, dumping you both into the water.

You sighed once Seungmin sat in front of you and started paddling with the oars.

You looked at him and smiled, his dark hair shining under the pale morning sun.

"This is so nice," you beamed while looking out at the view.

Seungmin stopped paddling and just stayed there. The water was still and it was so quiet, it was just you and him in the middle of the lake.

It was the comfortable kind of quiet, the kind that didn't conjure questions, you were there and be one with nature.

Seungmin held both your hands and leaned forward, you knew what he was trying to say without needing to speak and then smiled at him.

You both leaned in until your lips met in the middle then melted into a kiss.

"I love you," he said against your lips.

"I love you," you said back.

You didn't need to say it out loud for the world to know, all you needed was a little quiet and two open hearts, beating as one.

Seungmin was surprisingly calm when he watched you get into the taxi that would take you to the train station because you refused his offer to take you himself.

He gave you a long, lingering kiss on the lips to finally let you go with a wave bye at you.

And he thought maybe the relationship was also growing as you both get older.

But when he came back home after a long day of practice that was when it hit him.

The absence of you made a big hole in his chest, and no matter how many times he took a deep breath, he felt breathless.

It felt as if you brought all the air with you when you left.

"I hope your phone is broken because I'll not accept any other reason for why you never called!"

Seungmin was at his breaking point.

He was so close to losing it from the lack of phone calls from you and when he called, you were always busy and the conversation could only go on as much.

He heard your beautiful laugh through the phone, the sound that he feels like an old song he used to listen to.

"I'm sorry, baby." You apologized quickly.

"I've been busy and I have to finish a few works early so everything would be done once you got here," you explained the reason why you rarely called.

The reminder that he'll be coming home soon felt like a breath of fresh air.

He counted down the days until the baseball season finished and after that, it will be just you and him.

"I can't wait to see you," you cooed at him with a sigh that he understood really well, full of longing.

"I can't wait either," he cooed back while staring at the ceiling of his room and picturing your face that started to fade in his mind.

"I can't wait to kiss you, hug you..." you listed all of the things you wanted to do to him, "go on a date with you..."

Seungmin imagined all of those things in his head like a film montage.

"And at the end of the night," you paused to let out a low giggle, "have you on my bed so I can have you..."

Seungmin swallowed air, knowing where the conversation would go.

"In my hand, in my mouth..." you seductively sighed and he remembered the face you made when he made love to you, low moans spilling out of your mouth slightly parted open.

"Inside me..." you said into the phone with a low gasp.

Seungmin’s hand gripped the sheet he was sleeping on while trying to control his urge to fuck you right that very second.

"Don't you miss being inside me, baby?"

You were good at diverting his attention, he was planning on scolding you but ended up craving your body and wanting to fuck you.

But he couldn't lie, months without your touch or touching you took a toll on him.

"Yeah," he breathlessly said because that was how desperate he was.

"I miss your hands on me..." your voice sultry, inviting.

Seungmin closed his eyes and thought of his hands on your smooth skin, whimpering at how much he wanted to touch.

"Your big, warm hands on me..." you sighed into the phone.

The temptation was bigger than he could handle.

"I want to touch you." He blurted out deep from within him.

He heard your smile in response.

"Yeah? Touch me where?"

"I want to touch you all over," he said with eyes screwed shut because it became so frustrating to him, to say but not do.

You let out a low sigh then he heard a few rustles, then someone else spoke into the phone, "in this house, we keep it PG-13!"

Seungmin kind of guessed who intruded on the conversation and that would be your new roommate. You told him about getting a place together with Kim.

He heard laughs and then more rustles, "Baby, I'm so sorry. It's Kim!"

Seungmin sighed in annoyance, "yeah, I know."

"She really doesn't know what personal space is," you complained.

"That's okay," he comforted you.

There was a second of silence until you called his name.

"Seungmin?"

"Yes?"

"I can't wait to see you..." you said again.

"Me too."

And it felt good to know that he wasn't the only one holding his breath with this distance that tore the two of you apart.

It felt good knowing that despite all of that, your heart still belongs to him and he belongs to you.

On the day he arrived back, you couldn't pick him up at the train station. He spent a day with his parents before going to your house since you told him to wait for you there.

Someone opened the door with an unfriendly expression.

"Oh, Seungmin! What a joy!" Kim said with a deadpan expression.

"I'm so happy to see you too, Kim!" Seungmin returned with a thin smile.

But still, she gave Seungmin a quick, friendly hug and led him inside, serving him a cup of tea because she was making a cup for herself when he rang the doorbell.

"She will be home soon!" Kim said, eating a cookie while leaning against the kitchen island and reading something on her iPad.

"Is she always come home late?"

He wouldn't consider 10 pm as late but he was curious, you were working as an assistant to Kim's brother who is an author. He didn't think that the job would require you to work past the working hours.

"No," Kim answered, "It's just that sometimes my brother needs her to do a few things immediately."

Kim put the tablet away and got a stool for herself to sit on, "most of the time, she worked in his house and do boring things for him," she explained to him.

"Boring things?"

"You know like proofread his writings, make copies, check his emails, all that boring stuff," she answered in slight interest.

Kim dusted her hands after finishing her cookie, "no need to worry much. I take care of her well," she confidently said with a grin.

Seungmin suddenly felt awful for not asking about her of all things, "How about you, Kim? Are you doing good?"

"Same old, same old," she sighed and drank her tea. She picked up her phone and pulled up a picture on the screen, showing it to him.

"I have a girlfriend now," she bragged to him.

Seungmin smiled in approval and nodded, "not bad!"

"She's clever and cute," Kim said while foolishly smiling looking at her significant other's photo.

"You're not the only lovey-dovey in the house," she added with a sneering smile.

Seungmin chuckled in response, "I'm happy for you, Kim!" He said, genuinely happy for her.

"Thanks!" She said back with a bright smile.

When his tea had almost gone cold and Kim was lying on the sofa, half through the movie she was watching, you finally came.

Seungmin shot up from the sofa and stood there by the threshold waiting for you.

It happened so fast but he was sure you sprinted your way to him the second you opened the door, you didn't even take off your shoes first.

It all came rushing back like floodwater, the smell of you that instantly put him at ease and just the whole you, your presence that he yearned for months.

Seungmin opened his mouth to speak but you started to peck his face with kisses and finished with a kiss on his lips.

"I miss you so much!" You said as you pressed another kiss, a lingering one until your lung burned for oxygen.

"I miss you too!" He said back, wrapping his hands around you and hoisting your body against him, closer and closer.

This still felt like a dream to him, your face leaning so close to his and those lips that he could taste as much as he want.

He let himself go and let you fill him with warm feelings again, making him the most loved and happiest person all over again.

"This is getting above PG-13, please get a room!" Kim grumbled without looking your way.

You let go of him and grabbed his hand, "we're about to!" You told her.

You pulled him in the direction of your bedroom while giggling and closed the door behind you, turning around to face him with a sly smile on your face.

"Sorry for making you wait," you said as you approached him, pushing him until he plopped down on your bed.

"That's okay," he replied.

You got on his lap and he helped you by holding you by your waist.

"How's your day?" He asked.

You put a finger on his lips, "shh... we can talk later!"

Seungmin never thought that he would be able to get so turned on so fast, but maybe because he had been dreaming of fucking you that made it possible.

Your body, oh... it felt like he saw and touched it for the first time again.

Your skin was so soft to the touch it got him whimpering, your lips that he couldn't get enough to kiss, and your warm erratic breath on his shoulder as you buried your head in his neck.

You didn't hold back letting out those lewd noises as you bounced on his cock.

Fucking never felt this amazing that none of you have anything to say.

The way his cum filled you full said it all and you kept fucking until you tire yourselves out, passed out on the bed.

The morning sun that woke him up didn't stop you from continuing last night, laying on your stomach and watching him sleep for a while.

"Good morning!" You greeted him with a smile.

He placed a hand on your back and sleepily scratched your skin with his fingertips, "Morning!" He slurred his reply.

He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock on the bedside table, it was late for him who usually woke up early for practice. He must have slept so well.

"What are you doing?" He asked as you kept staring at him.

"Watching my boyfriend's beautiful face," you answered with a giddy smile.

He couldn't help but smile back and this was the kind of morning that would kick-start a perfect day.

He brought his face close and kissed you, letting the kiss take things where he wanted it to take him.

Your hand went under the cover and made its way to his member, hardening at every gentle stroke you made on it.

As the moment began to heat, the door flung open and Kim barged her way in, plopping on the bed next to you.

"I'm getting my girlfriend a gift," she announced, not bothered to read the room first or that the two of you were naked under the duvet.

She showed something on her phone at you, "which one is better? The earrings or the necklace?"

You swiped the screen on her phone and made a quick judgment, "the necklace!"

Kim turned the phone to Seungmin, "what about you, Seungmin!"

It took him aback for a second, "I vote for the necklace too!" He hastily decided, afraid that she would notice your hand still stroking his cock under the duvet.

"Okay! The necklace it is!" She exclaimed and typed something onto her phone.

"Can you go now? We're in the middle of a thing here!" You nagged her and Kim immediately got up from the bed.

"You guys can go back to fucking now!" She said, a second before closing the bedroom door.

Seungmin sighed and let his head fall onto his pillow, "is this what you deal with every morning?"

"24/7 actually!" You replied with an exasperated sigh.

"I think we should get up and get breakfast," he suggested, stretching his arms to the air.

You scooted closer and overlapped half of his body with yours, "not yet," you said with a seductive smile, "we still have a lot of catch-ups to do."

Seungmin chuckled and without warning, flipped you over, had you pinned under him.

"But we can talk about that later," he said while slowly lowering his mouth on you again.

The fucking wouldn't come to an end if none of you suggested spending the rest of the day out.

You drove Kim's brother's car that he assigned for you so it would be easy for you to get around when he needs you to run some errands.

It was only a few months but Seungmin could see the slight changes in you, for example, you got confident in your driving when it used to make you nervous.

The two of you went to places you used to have your dates in and went to the batting cage where he taught you how to bat for the first time.

"The loser has to pay for ice cream?" You challenged him.

Seungmin took it without any hint of hesitation and took the first turn.

You did well despite haven't played for a while, won the bet and you knew it was actually him letting you win.

The owner of the place recognized Seungmin as the major league baseball player and asked for an autograph to hang on the wall.

Seungmin was more than pleased to do it and earned a proud smile from you.

You picked two flavors of ice cream while Seungmin chose the classic chocolate one. You were stealing a spoonful from Seungmin’s cup when your phone rang in your purse and you hurriedly picked it up.

It was Kim's brother asking you to pick up files from the publisher.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your date!" Kim's brother said as he went to the driveway and took the files from you.

"It's alright. It was right on our way," you responded.

Kim's brother glanced at Seungmin and offered a handshake with him, "Nice to see you again!"

"Nice to see you again!" He said back and shook his hand with him.

"I'll let you get back to your date!" He quickly said.

He patted your hair before you turn to leave, "Thank you for the files!"

"No worries!" You replied.

The date continued with dinner just the two of you, you even turned off your phone to not let anyone interrupt your intimate time together.

"Should we order wine?" You asked.

"Oh, wait! I'm driving!" You said before Seungmin could mutter an answer.

"I can drive for us," he filled the request without you asking him first.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

You shook your head and decided not to order wine, "I'm not going to drink if you're not."

You flipped open the menu and went straight to the selection of desserts, "but I'll order two extra desserts," you remarked with a scrunched nose at him.

The dinner was nothing but a pleasant date, you catch up on months' worth of updates on each other's life and the conversation went on as your stomach filled with delicious food.

The dessert plates were empty, the candle was laying low and your hands were intertwined on the table, just looking into each other's eyes.

"I love you," you mouthed.

He lifted your hand and kissed it, "I love you too."

You both smiled at each other and felt contented, full to the brim with every good feeling that was known to exist.

Seungmin drove the car back home while you sat on the passenger's side, it felt so nostalgic and nice, like everything finally was right where it belongs.

The two of you were lying on the bed after a day well-spent, the bed was big but your bodies pushed so close against each other like one of you would drift away if there ever was a space in between.

"Can I be honest with you?" You asked.

Your head was resting on his chest and purring like a cat, you turned your head his way to look at him.

"Sure," Seungmin answered while brushing the end of your hair with his fingers.

"I used to be so scared that things would change," you began and put your hand under your chin, "but now, I don't feel that way anymore."

"That's good!" Seungmin commented.

"I mean, I'm not my best self yet but this, what I have now... this is nice," you said.

He lifted his head to plant a kiss on your forehead, "or maybe you have found your best self that makes you feel that way."

You took his words and let them sink in, then smiled.

"Or maybe," you overlapped his body with yours and put your hands around him, "I am my best self when I'm with you."

Maybe that was true.

You always brought out the best but also the worst in him, or a mix of the two.

But that was also what made you the best part of his life.

After spending two nights in your place, Seungmin had to go back home for a family trip. You understood that he was also needed by his family and you couldn't be selfish about it.

He came out of the bathroom and saw you sitting on the bed with his varsity jacket on.

"It's mine!" You claimed before he agreed to it.

Seungmin could only chuckle in defeat, "what can I say? It's yours!"

You bounced on the bed like a little kid with a wide grin plastered on your face.

He crawled onto the bed and planted a kiss on your lips, "I'll be back on your birthday!"

You invited him for the birthday dinner at your parent's house just like the one you did last year.

"Don't forget the birthday gift too," you playfully remarked while tilting your head up to face him and letting him plant more kisses on you.

"Noted!" He responded with a soft kiss on your lips.

A lot more kisses later, Seungmin got up from the bed and gathered his things from the bedside table.

"Have fun on your family trip!" You said to him as you lay down back on the bed and pulled the duvet up to your chest, waving your hand at him.

He stood by the doorway with his hand lingering on the doorknob, feeling a bit melancholic to part with you again even though it was only for a few days.

"See you again!" He said while thinking how sweet it would be when the two of you meet again.

The reality didn't meet his expectation, not only that the flight from his family got delayed, he had to tackle a long traffic jam to get to your parent house.

That resulted in him coming late to your birthday dinner, you opened the door while softly laughing and your cheeks a bit blushing, he took it that you were already a few glasses of wine into the dinner.

"Are you okay? Did something happen on the way?" You asked in a slight concern and without warning, went to kiss him.

He was unprepared and the kiss landed on the corner of his mouth.

"Oops!" You laughed it off and tried again, leaning in at him, letting him kiss you this time.

He held your face and tenderly kissed you, making you smile against his lips.

"Happy birthday!" He muttered when he let go of the kiss.

You grabbed both of his hands and looked into his eyes, sharing an intimate moment with just the two of you in it that leads to another long, sweet kiss.

"Come on! Everybody's here!" You said, pulling him behind you and taking him to the dining table filled with people.

Your parents, your sister, Kim, and her girlfriend, he also spotted Kim's brother sitting next to a girl he had never seen before.

A conversation was going on at the table and everyone was laughing, when you announced his arrival, it made him feel like he was interrupting something.

He hurriedly greeted everyone and muttered his apologies at the same time, sitting on the only empty chair next to you and Kim.

"Should I bring you the appetizer or do you want to go straight to the main course?" You asked him, a hand lingering on his shoulder.

So, he was indeed a meal late into the party.

"I'll have what everyone is having," he sheepishly answered.

Your mother got up from her chair and offered to be the one going to the kitchen to take it.

"No, mom. It's okay, I can do it," you left to the kitchen and Kim kindly poured him a glass of wine.

"It's the fire at the city junction, yeah?" She said, refilling her wine glass after filling her girlfriend's.

Seungmin tipped his head to the side in confusion, still adjusting himself to the scene.

"There's traffic because of the fire at the city junction," Kim's brother gave him the full context.

"Yeah," he replied and took a sip of his wine.

"We saw it on the news earlier," your mother said to him.

Seungmin nodded, "I drove as fast as I could," he explained even though no one was asking why he was late.

"We're just glad you arrived safely!" Your father kindly said.

The food was served in front of him then you sat next to him, also going back to your unfinished meal and everyone moved on to another topic since your mother asked Kim's brother how he met his girlfriend, the girl whose Seungmin had never seen.

Everyone was having a good time, even your sister seemed to enjoy it or maybe she got along just fine with Kim's brother.

But Seungmin couldn't join in on the talk and could only smile along, nodding in agreement, he felt a little out of it the whole time he was sitting there at the dining table.

Kim brought out the birthday cake and everyone sang for you, you clasped your hands together with your eyes closed and made your wish that no one knows except you.

You glanced at him and he flashed a smile at you, then you blew the candles off.

Birthday greetings, cheers, and wine glasses clinking, everyone started to take out their gifts for you. Seungmin decided to be the last one to present his birthday gift to you.

You got a holiday package from your parents, money sent to your account by your sister and a new bag from Kim and her girlfriend, then when it came to Kim's brother's present, everyone got curious.

"It's not actually a gift because it's mostly you doing the work," he said as he took the paper bag his girlfriend handed him.

He saw you smiling in excitement as the anticipation in the room heightened at the first sight of the gift, a rectangular-shaped gift in plain brown wrapping paper.

"You know, you don't have to get me any presents," you said to him.

"I told you, it's not really a gift!" He said again.

You took it from him and impatiently unwrapped the gift, there was a loud squeal as you ripped through the wrapping paper.

"No way, no way..." you kept repeating the words over and over again as the gift started to reveal itself.

Seungmin noticed that it was a book, he couldn't read the title since you immediately flipped it open to the table of contents, and another loud squeal came out of you.

"What is it? What is it?" Kim asked in curiosity and took the book from you.

"But how- How did you-" you got speechless and overwhelmed, a hand propping against your forehead in awe.

Kim let out a loud gasp and surprised the whole table, she shot up from her chair, then said, "excuse my language, but bitch, you are a published writer now?!"

She showed the book to everyone, a compilation of short stories, and your name is written as one of the authors.

Kim's brother laughed, satisfied that he picked the right time to announce it.

"I couldn't help it, your writing is so good so I submitted it for my friend who happened to be collecting short stories and he likes it as much as I do," Kim's brother elaborated.

His girlfriend chimed in from beside him, "Congratulations!"

Everyone followed suit and congratulated you while you still couldn't believe it yourself, your mouth still hung open in slight shock.

Everyone filled their glass with more wine and made a toast to your new title as a published writer.

Seungmin raised his glass as well while his other hand gripped the birthday gift so tightly under the table.

It was your birthday, after all, it was only right that you are the happiest person on that day.

You sent everyone off when the party ended, thanking everyone for coming, and waited until their cars left the vicinity.

He watched your sister talk to you and hugged you before leaving, a sight that Seungmin believed is a rare one.

He smiled when you came his way, half running to go into his hug and smiling with so much giddiness, that he felt just as happy as held you in his arms.

"Did you enjoy the party?" You asked him.

He nodded.

You cracked another laugh and held your cheeks, "I still can't believe it..." you said with a tone of awe and disbelief.

"I'm happy for you," he genuinely said.

"Yeah?"

He nodded again.

You went to hug him again and wrapped your hands around his waist, absorbing the heat of his body.

Seungmin couldn't get it out of his head and he felt the need to ask the question, "why didn't you tell me about your writings?"

You pulled away from the hug, "I've been writing all these times," you simply answered.

"Have you ever thought that maybe I would be interested to know about your writings?"

You flinched a little and took a step back, "are you mad because I didn't tell you?"

"I'm not mad, I'm just..." Seungmin paused to take a deep breath and gathered his thoughts, putting them nicely so you would get what he means.

"Can't you just be happy for me?" You said, your face contorted and serious.

Seungmin recognized the face that he never wanted to see on you, "that's not what I mean," he said.

"Even my sister congratulated me! She hugged me and she never hugged me in years," your voice broke at the end of the sentence, and your eyes turned glassy as tears welling in them.

He took your hands and regretted letting the question out of his head, "You know I don't have any other intention-"

"Why do you have to remind me that I'm just your loser girlfriend?"

"Loser?" He snapped, strongly disagreed with you.

He brought his face close to you and held your arms, "you are everything to me, except that!" He remarked.

You started crying when he pulled you into his hug, he held you so tightly and felt so stupid for making you cry on supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry!" He kept muttering to you with his mouth pushed onto the top of your head and rubbing your back.

"I'm sorry for making you upset, I'm sorry, baby!"

"I'm sorry, please stop crying!"

He held your face with both hands and looked at your tears-streaked face, his heart shattered knowing that he made you sad.

"I love you so much," he said and kissed your wet cheek.

"You are everything to me!"

"I'm sorry..."

"I love you."

Fear crept in as each love confession was left unanswered.

He tilted your face with a hand under your chin and stared into your teary eyes, then tried again, "I love you."

He said it with everything he got in him that it drained all out of his emotions in him, tears caught up in his throat as he spoke.

"I love you," you finally said back with a trembling voice.

And Seungmin felt like he was breathing air for the first time in his life.

"I'm sorry I'm ruining your birthday," he apologized again and kissed your forehead.

He put his forehead on yours and sighed, "why don't I drive you home and I'll do something to make up for what I did?" He said with a soft smile.

You smiled back at him while wiping your tears with your knuckles, "I'm sleeping in my parent's house tonight," you croaked.

"Oh, okay," Seungmin responded, a little disappointed that he couldn't spend the night with you.

He consoled himself by kissing you despite the tears drying on your cheeks.

He was putting your hair behind your ears when you asked him, "aren't you going to give me my birthday gift?"

"I was in a rush to get here. I forgot to take it with me," he lied, the birthday gift was inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket and it kept weighing him down the longer he kept it hidden from you.

"That's strike one!" You playfully said with a low laugh.

Seungmin laughed along because of the use of baseball term that fits right to the situation, he was aware of the mistake he did, making you cry and lying about the birthday gift.

That earned him a strike one.

"I'll do better next time," he said while cupping your cheek in his hand and tenderly kissing you again.

He still has two more chances to do the right thing.

It had been months since the last time Seungmin saw his old baseball teammates back in university.

His teammates planned a night out for him, reminiscing the good ole times and catching up.

He took you with him but as the night went and more beers were served to the table, he got lost in the conversations, at the moment.

Only realized that you were gone when you said you needed to go to the restroom but didn't come back to the table.

"Have you seen my girlfriend?" He asked his friend, Lee, who was half drunk and laughing.

"Huh? Your girlfriend? I don't know.... bathroom, I guess?" He got confused by such a simple question.

He shoved him to the side and got up from his seat, checked the bathroom first before getting out of the restaurant to find you leaning against the wall with your hands deep in your jacket pockets.

"What are you doing outside?" He asked as he came up to you, the night was cold and he wondered how long you've been out.

"Just took a phone call," you simply answered.

He stood facing you and gently touched your cheeks, warming them with his hands. He didn't want to guess but it seemed to him that you didn't want to be there.

"Are you bored?" He asked.

You sniffled before answering, "it's not like they're here for me," you said while looking down at the ground.

"They didn't even know that I'm gone," you added with a small smile.

Seungmin closed in the gap and stood closer to you, "but I do."

You put on another small smile for him, "but you don't need me here anyway."

It became apparent that his presence was only burdening you lately and it drove him further away from you.

He saw how his roles were taken by someone else, he shouldn't be unhappy or selfish, but he didn't like how it made him feel like he no longer holds a place in your life anymore.

It scared him, it scared him shitless to think that you don't need him anymore.

"I will always need you!" The cold air he sharply inhaled pierced his lungs when he said those words with so much force.

His eyes looked into your two orbs like two magic balls that could tell his fortune and you only stared back at them not wanting to tell what the future holds for him.

He held your face in his hands like you were a stalk of a delicate rose.

"I need you," he said again and it was okay for him that the thorns sliced through his hands as he touched you.

"Seungmin..."

The way you called his name with that defeated sigh made his insecurities take over him, "you don't need me anymore?"

You held his hands, "I didn't say that," you answered.

He almost broke down right then, right there if your answer was the one he feared it would be. He melted into your arms and for a second, didn't care how much he weighed on you by putting all of him on you.

Just for this once, he wanted to be held and comforted loved.

He didn't want to think of how your answer didn't fully satisfy or assured him.

"Let's go home!" He muttered to your ear.

"What about your friends?" You asked, still with your arms wrapped around him tightly.

"I only need you," he responded, staying in your embrace for as long as he could.

He wanted to go home and make love to you, making you feel seen and acknowledged, admired and adored, pleased and loved just the same before he left and the distance did cruel to the two of you.

His mouth buried on the delicate thing between your legs, his hands curved under your thighs while his hands cupped your soft mounds.

His hot, slick tongue endlessly lapped your wetness over and over again, never getting enough of your taste.

His head filled with nothing but the will to fuck all these lapses in your relationship out of you and make you his again that he lost himself in it, thrusting into you a little too hard that you cried underneath him.

He abruptly stopped moving and went to kiss you, "sorry baby, did I get too rough on you?" His voice tinted with worries.

You shook your head and kissed him back, "No, this is what I need."

And he was more than eager to fulfill your need.

He took your hands and clasped them together so tightly on the bed, pinned them next to your head.

He picked up the pace once more, this was probably what he needed because hearing you calling his name in neediness got him feeling needed.

He knew you were being needy for the physical needs but it was better than being nothing to you.

"Oh my God, oh, Seungmin!" Your voice broke at the end with your head buried deep in his neck as you climaxed.

He could feel it too, your walls fluttering around and sucking him deeper.

He put all of his into the last few thrust to also cum inside you, your legs locked around his waist and letting him empty his seed deep inside you.

Your mouths met in an enamoring, sloppy kiss that slobbers all over your mouth.

"I love you," he said as he pressed another hard kiss on your lips.

"I love you too," you finally said back and closed your eyes as if the reality was a painful thing to see.

This felt like strike two to him.

And that means he only has one chance left to make it right again.

Was it too much to ask if he wanted a peaceful morning and cuddling with you on the bed?

"It's only 7 am," he sleepily said while getting up from the bed.

You slipped into a sweater, "yes, but he'll be having an early meeting with his agent and I have a lot to prepare," you explained then went to comb your hair while looking at the mirror.

Seungmin had been searching for a good time to give you your birthday present but it seemed like this morning was bad timing too.

He dragged himself to get his feet off the bed and exposed himself to the chill morning air, "do you have to go this early?"

You put a few things into your bag and turned at him, paused at the sight of his naked body except for the pile of duvet covering his lower half.

You walked up to him but his impatient hand pulled you to get to him quicker, "we don't even have a few minutes to cuddle?"

"Don't give me those eyes!" You scolded him, sitting on his lap and straddling him, rubbing your hands up and down his muscular arms from years of playing baseball.

"What eyes?" He innocently asked.

But he purposely gave you those eyes, eyes that sparkled even under the dim of light like they were stars in them.

You let out a beautiful, crisp laugh that gave him the same comforting feeling as he heard the crunching sound of dried leaves when he stepped on it, he didn't know how much he misses to hear it and only realized it then.

You brought your face close and kissed him, a kiss that was so sweet and gentle like a sip of milk.

"Not enough," he shook his head when you pulled away. He was being needy so he decided to be the one to kiss you, lathering your lips in his affectionate kisses and hoping that you would stay a little while for more of this.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," you sadly muttered to him with your hands trailing down his chest, secretly admiring his firm muscles under your touch.

He didn't let you get off his lap by holding you with his hands gripping each side of your waist, "but you agree, right?"

"Huh?"

Seungmin slightly tipped his head to the side to meet your gaze, "that the sex was amazing?"

You cracked a laugh and lightly punched his chest, without answering him you kissed him again, soft and quick like a gust of wind.

"I have to go," you told him then got off his lap, took your bag from the desk, and hoisted the strap on your shoulder.

"Bye!" You waved at him before leaving him with the sound of the door closing echoing in the room.

He couldn't say he was making things right again but he knew he was trying his best.

On Saturday night, he picked you up for a dinner with his family and waited in front of your rented house while leaning against the car.

His heart pitter-patter as he watched you descend the stairs in a white dress and your hair down, smiling at him and him only.

He couldn't help himself but kissed you despite knowing you will scold him for ruining your make-up.

He had a hard time focusing on the road ahead of him when you were sitting on the passenger's side looking so gorgeous he couldn't stop himself from swooning over you.

He stopped you from opening the car door and grabbed your elbow, "can we have a moment?"

"A moment?" You asked back and your eyes darted to the velvet box he took out from the glove box.

"Is this my birthday present?"

He opened your hand and put it on your palm, "I know it's too late but..." Seungmin paused to suck in air through his teeth, "I hope you like it."

You opened the box to find a necklace inside but your hand automatically touched the one you always wear, the one he gifted from last year's birthday.

"Another necklace?"

That was the reaction that never crossed his mind, "you don't like it?"

Your thumb brushed over the shiny pendant, "I like it but I still have this one," you said.

He went to hold your hand, "I just wanted to buy you a better one and more beautiful than the one I gifted you," he answered.

You stared at the new necklace with its shine blinking under the street lamp.

And maybe he chose the bad timing again?

"You don't have to wear it," Seungmin quickly said, didn't want the moment to take a different turn again.

But you reached to unclasp the necklace you wore and took the new necklace, putting the old one into the velvet box.

"Can you help me put it on?"

"Sure!"

You took all of your hair to the side and let him put the necklace around your neck, then fastened the clasp.

You turned around to let him see it while fixing your hair, "Thank you!" You muttered without looking at him in the eyes.

His whole family was present that night, his mother welcomed you home and introduced you to the rest of the family.

His father complimented how beautiful you are and his sister teased Seungmin for getting himself a really beautiful girlfriend.

The dinner went well and the meals his mother cooked were exceptionally delicious that night, the conversations changed and flowed from one topic to another, and everyone was engaged in the talk, except you.

"Are you working or...?" His sister asked, merely out of curiosity.

The rest couldn't help but also be curious about you.

You put down your fork and smiled.

"I'm working as—"

Seungmin cut right in between your sentence, "She's a writer and she got her writing published recently," he answered for you.

"Oh, wow! That's wonderful!" His mother exclaimed and clasped her hands together in front of her.

You glanced at him and he saw a look on your face that he couldn't decipher.

"It's just a short story and the book was a compilation so I'm not sure if I deserved to be called a writer yet," you elaborated with your hands resting on your lap under the table.

"And I'm working as an assistant to a real writer," you added with a sheepish smile.

"Although you only wrote a short story, it's still writing," His sister said with a smile, "and that makes you a writer!"

"Yes, you should be proud, dear!" His mother egged on her daughter's comforting words.

"Thank you!" You muttered while looking down at your plate then picked up your cutlery back, and continued eating.

A while later, her mother looked your way and said, "that's a nice necklace!"

Of all of the things she could compliment on you, she chose the necklace that Seungmin gifted you.

"It's a birthday gift from Seungmin!" You responded with a polite smile.

His mother instantly looked at Seungmin and gave him a proud smile while Seungmin took your hand to clasp it with yours, except that you avoided his touch.

It reminded him of that dinner he had with you and his teammate, where you kept quiet the whole night and it worries him.

"Come with me!" He said, stopping you from helping his mother prep fruits on a tray after dinner.

His sister came and took your job, "It's okay, you can go!"

You let Seungmin lead you to his room and closed the door behind him, he didn't waste time holding you by the waist and kissing you.

"With your parents right outside?" You asked with an eyebrow raised.

He scrunched his nose at you and pressed another long kiss while pushing you to the middle of the bedroom.

"Come on, your parents are waiting outside!" You said once you broke the kiss.

He stopped you from leaving and sat you down on his bed, "I have something for you," he said.

He walked to the bag on his study chair and pulled out something, he went kneeling in front of you and put something in your hand.

You opened your palm to see a gold-plated pin, "what's this?"

"My first championship baseball pin, well, we're not winning the league this season but it means a lot to me because it's my first," he elaborated.

You stared at it for a few seconds then glanced at him, "if it's that precious, why did you give it to me?"

"I want you to keep it," he said and closed your hand on the pin together with his hand.

He couldn't read the expression on your face whether you like it or not, he started to hate that he has to calculate everything he does to you.

It was like walking on thin ice, "keep it for me, please?" He pleaded while looking up at you with hopeless glints in his eyes, that was just how desperate he was.

You nodded without saying a word.

The night continued with more talks in the living room, fruits and sweet assortments, and wine for everyone except Seungmin because he drove you home at the end of the night.

You were so quiet and he thought you must be exhausted, offered his jacket to wear just in case you got cold, holding your hand when the car stopped at a red light.

He felt the constant assurance that you were there with him, not just physically present.

"Are you tired, baby?" He asked, rubbing your arms and gently caressing your cheek.

You turned your head at him, "a little."

The car pulled up in front of your rented house and Seungmin turned off the engine, he was about to get out of the car when you stopped him.

"You don't have to get out, I'll just go in and sleep early tonight," you said to him.

"I can't come in and stay until you fall asleep?" He asked with a sly smile, "like old times?"

You softly smiled and sighed, then slowly turned your head at him.

"I'm just so tired and I feel full," you put a hand on his shoulder, "your mom's cook is really good, I forgot to tell her how much I enjoyed the dinner."

Seungmin could tell that his disappointment was clearly drawn on his face from your rejection, but still, he forced a smile for you.

"Alright, I'll tell her that," he said.

You went to hug him and kissed his neck which led to a kiss on his mouth, "thank you for tonight!"

Seungmin put his hands around you not willing to let go, "I miss you," he said.

"I'm not getting out of the car yet," you said while chuckling at him.

But what he meant was that he misses you, he misses his girlfriend that he knows, who understands him well and not making him guess everything he does and if he does it wrong.

He kissed you so hard to convince him that the you that he missed was still there somewhere.

"Goodnight!" You said with a last kiss on his lips and got out of the car.

"Goodnight!"

He watched as you climbed the steps and stopped by the door to wave at him, then went inside.

Seungmin was greeted by the silence once you left and that made his head thinks out loud.

Not once in his life that he wished he let himself selfish that time and didn't let you go, kept you close next to him, he believed things would take a different, better turn, not this nightmare of a detour.

The distance seemed to distort the proximity as something bad and a lot of space as something good.

Or could it be him? That he was incapable of adjusting himself to this change.

It was his turn to get a taste of what it felt like being the one who was being left than the other way around. He spent the nights with you but you were barely there, you were drifting in and out of your body like a ghost.

He held you close but your heart felt like a distance away.

He kissed your neck and teased your sensitive spot with tickling kisses, that worked to make you squirm against him, making you squeeze on his forearm to stop him.

"Seungmin, that tickles!"

He stopped and intertwined his hand with yours, "Let's go on a date tomorrow!"

You sighed and nuzzled your head on your pillow, "okay," you answered.

"How about movies?" Seungmin playfully bit your ear shell.

"Okay."

"Play a little baseball?"

"Okay."

"The loser gets to pay for ice cream?"

"Mmkay..."

"And pizza?"

There was no answer.

"Are you sleepy, baby?"

He peered to see you were already sleeping and it got him feeling tingling inside to know the girl he knew wasn't really gone.

"Goodnight, baby!" He said with a kiss on your cheek.

But the next morning, you left without telling him and got him wondering why you were out that early.

"You look horrible!" Kim said as she saw Seungmin coming to the kitchen and hurriedly poured him a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Kim!" Seungmin responded with a greeting, definitely not in the mood to play with her, and thanked her for the coffee.

"Did she say where she's going?"

Kim remembered something she quickly put down her toast, "yeah, she said she just needs to get my brother's car to the shop," she answered.

"She'll be back soon!" She added and slid the plate of toast to Seungmin.

The thoughts filling his head seemed to repress his appetite and he couldn't hide it anymore.

"Did you two fight?" Kim asked but failed to make it sound like it was just a simple question.

A fight would be better, he thought. The fight is not always a bad thing, at least a fight shows if something is worth all that trouble.

And he wanted to know if this relationship is something that worth fighting for.

He preferred to fight rather than this silence that slowly suffocated him from the inside.

He shook his head, "do we seem like we're not on good terms?" He asked out of curiosity.

Kim shrugged and sipped her coffee, "I just think your dynamic is a little bit off lately," she answered with a grimace.

She finished her coffee in one long gulp and put the dirty dishes on the sink, "but you know, I can be wrong because I'm busy dating too," she said with a sly smile.

Seungmin kept pushing all the negativity out of his head and focused on the movie the two of you were watching, his hand searched for yours in the dark but both of your hands were shoved inside your jacket pockets.

"Are you cold?" He asked.

"No, I'm okay," you shortly replied.

It was getting tiring to try and read your mind, all he wanted was to make you happy but it seems that all the efforts he had done were for nothing.

Think of something, Seungmin! He told himself.

And the idea struck while the two of you were walking around the mall after the movie.

"Can you wait here?"

"Are you going somewhere?"

He nodded.

"We can go together," you said.

"You sit here," he leads you to sit on the empty bench, "and I'll be back in a few minutes," he insisted.

"Okay!" You agreed.

In less than fifteen minutes, Seungmin returned carrying a paper bag and made his way toward you.

"You're running out of breath!" You said like it wasn't obvious enough.

Seungmin brightly smiled and pulled out something from the paper bag, a book, and a pen.

"Can I get your autograph, please?" He sweetly asked you with that puppy smile you always find adorable.

He showed the book with your short story on it, ripped the plastic wrapper, and flipped to the author's page with your name on it.

"I'm a fan!" He added and handed you the book with the pen.

You burst out laughing and took them from him, "what is your name?"

"Seungmin," he answered.

You wrote his name on the top and then your autograph under it.

"Can you draw a heart next to my name, please?" He requested.

You complied and drew three hearts next to his name, "I hope you like my short story!" You said as you handed him the book.

Seungmin looked at it with a smile on his face, it was indeed a proud moment for him but seeing your smile was the most rewarding.

Someone came between you and said, "Can I get an autograph too?"

"Oh yes, the book?" You asked the stranger.

He looked puzzled by your question then turned to Seungmin, "you are Seungmin the baseball player, right?"

He saw it, the way your smile vanished in a second.

"Please sign my cap!" He pleaded while holding out his hat at him.

You quickly took the book from Seungmin and handed him the pen. Seungmin signed the guy's hat real quick and immediately grabbed your hand once he finished, he just got the urge to hold you before he loses you again.

A dark cloud loomed over him as you kept quiet and he was trapped in his head again.

"You want to go first?" He asked, opening the door to the batting cage.

You got in without saying anything and started batting, he could see that you put so much force, gripping the bat too tight he was sure you were going to hurt yourself.

"I want to go again!"

"Why don't you take a break?" He suggested and held out his hand at you.

You pushed the button for another round to start and Seungmin had no other choice but retreated, and waited outside until you drained yourself out.

It felt like every strong hit of every batting you did went straight through his chest and pounded on his heart, it was aching, making him unable to breathe.

When you got out of the batting cage, he immediately handed you bottled water then looked at your palms, raw and blistering.

"Let's stop playing!" He said while blowing on your hands and trying so hard not to ask you why you did such a thing to hurt yourself.

"I want to go home," you said with your head dropped.

"Aren't we going to that pizza place you like so much?" he said with a quivering voice.

"How is that important right now?" you unintentionally raised your voice at him but the noises inside the place masked it.

You lowered your voice back and sniffled, "Just take me home!"

Seungmin swallowed what caught in his throat, it was either rage or sadness, he couldn't tell.

"Okay, let's go home!"

He glanced at you sitting on the passenger's side with your palms turned up on your lap, he saw the skin getting raw and he could feel how painful it was.

But that was nothing compared to another moment passed in deafening silence. He didn't want to think of anything else but he felt the need to break it.

"Let's get inside!"

You shifted on your seat and sighed, "I'm tired!"

Seungmin softly smiled and touched your shoulder, "then let's get inside so you can rest!"

Then your body started to shake and you began sobbing into your hands.

It wasn't hard for Seungmin to know what was coming and about to hit him like a shit ton of bricks falling onto his head.

"I'm tired, Seungmin!" You said again.

You bit back your cries and fisted your skirt like it was painful to hold in your tears, "I'm tired of having to be acknowledged when I'm with you."

Seungmin is not stupid, he was aware of how you were pressured to be seen whenever he was with you. He knew but he didn't know that it took a toll on you.

"You don't have to be anything for me. I just need you by my side!" Seungmin said with pleading eyes and hoping his words would convince you to stay because he couldn't think of anything else to say, that was the only truth.

You roughly wiped your tears away with your hands, "I'm tired of being a cracked pot next to a shining crystal!"

Seungmin found your hand and squeezed it in response, "That's not true!" He strongly disagreed and shook your hand as if would awaken whatever lies inside you that would help him solve this.

But your sobs turned louder and echoed in the limited space of the car, "I don't want to do this anymore!"

"Don't say that!" He went to press his mouth on your wet lips to stop you from talking.

"Seungmin!" You groaned against his lips.

He forced another kiss and held your face, aggressively with so much possessiveness, never let go

Seungmin was scared that once he let go of the kiss, you would say things he didn't want to hear. But he knew you were running out of air so he pulled away just enough.

"Please, let's think things through!" He pleaded while holding your face close.

"I'll give you as much space and time as you want," he bargained, it was the last thing he could do to save this relationship.

"Let's not give up on us," he got breathless on the last syllable as he pressed another kiss on your forehead, manifesting the words into your subconscious

You kept avoiding his eyes, not agreeing nor responding to his words, the tears wet both your cheeks and it was a heartbreaking sight to see.

"I love you," he said.

Those eight letters were the last effort that he hoped would bring you back to him after the much taken time and space.

He knew his mistake and owned it, an apology won't fix it, there was no way of going back from here.

Still, he didn't want to admit that he failed.

But unbeknownst to him, this was strike three.

Two weeks had passed and that was how long Seungmin lived while holding his breath.

He had to leave for his winter training the next day, he didn't want to leave with this tugging feeling in his chest.

So for one night, he just wanted to be close to you even for a moment.

He waited outside by his car in the harsh cold night like he wasn't numb already from the heartbreak.

He glanced up when he saw your car parked by the side of the house and he walked to the base of the stairs that leads to the door of your house.

You seemed to be slightly surprised to see him there.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he said without thinking, hoping for a little sympathy for you, taking out his hands from his coat pockets but resisting the urge to hold your hands.

"Seungmin..."

He hated when you called him like that, that he could easily guess he won't like whatever you are going to say next.

"I just wanted to see you," he cut it off before the conversation shifted to somewhere he didn't want to go.

You let out a sad smile and your eyes turned glassy, "Let's not prolong the pain," you weakly muttered, swallowing the tears and letting out a breath at once.

Seungmin closed his eyes with frustration and so much sudden hate at the world.

"I told you I'm giving you as much space and time as you want!" He snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose for losing it.

He wanted to believe that you only needed the space and time, other than that, you still need him. But his belief was fading as you silently cried and the tears caught the lights, blinking at him.

"I just— I just wanted to see you..." he stammered and staggered to hug you, these past few days had been draining him, body, mind, and everything just hurts.

You cried harder into him and he could feel it, how your hearts broke at the same time.

But through those broken pieces, he was glad to know they were still beating as one.

2 YEARS LATER

Kim's brother held your manuscript in his hands and you wondered why it was still in him, no need to assume, it was obvious that it was rejected, and no company wanted to publish your writing.

"Is it that bad?" You raised an eyebrow at him with an uneasy smile.

Kim's brother looked at you, tight-lipped.

You already expected the disappointment but are still disappointed. Deep down, you hold on to a glimmer of hope that a publisher would take pity on you.

"Well... I will try to write better," you said with a hopeful smile at him but heavy with sadness.

He taught you a lot on so many things including these mental preparations you should learn once you decided to become a writer, that there will be a lot of rejections but that doesn't mean your writing sucks.

You turn on your heels to get back to your desk.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"Back to work?" You said with a shrug.

He cracked a laugh, "I haven't finished talking yet."

"Oh?" You turned to face him again and clasped your hands together in front of you.

He tapped your manuscript repeatedly then smiled, "there are two offers!"

It took you a moment or two to process his words.

"Two offers?"

"Yes, they want to publish this!"

You jerked your head back in disbelief and your jaws dropped the second you registered his words, "they like my manuscript???"

He nodded.

"But I don't want to let go of the manuscript," he said.

You pulled a chair and sat on it, catching your breath as if you just ran a mile.

"I know it's still lacking on a lot of things but with your help, I can edit it and revise— I'll do anything!" You convinced him rather too passionately.

He waved you off, "It's not that!"

"What is it then?" You asked with slumped shoulders, thinking of things that might go wrong.

"I know you would choose a big publisher but I'm going to regret not asking you this," he paused as he placed his other hand on the manuscript.

You leaned forward on his desk in anticipation and knitted brows.

"I want to publish it for you," he said.

"And it's okay if you didn't choose me, I just needed to get the question out of the way-"

"You mean, you wanted to publish it for me?" You stammered, there were so many things happening at once you had a hard time which one to process first.

"Please don't feel burdened to say yes, it's your book!" He reminded you, "you have the right to choose what to do with it!"

You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to speak.

He slid the manuscript on the desk at you, "you don't have to answer now. Take a day or two to think about it, it's not easy–"

This time, you stopped him from talking by waving your hand in front of him, "This is not a biased answer, but it's my book and you're the only one I can trust with it..."

You slid the manuscript back at him, "so please, publish it for me!" You said with a smile.

He scanned your face and tried to find the faintest of doubt but couldn't find it, "are you sure?"

You nodded repeatedly, "Yes."

He took the manuscript back and sighed in relief, "I promise I'll take good care of it!"

You smiled at him, "Thank you so much!"

This was the best thing that happened in these past two years, you wouldn't say it was easy but you were struggling still.

Maybe the quote is right, whether you run or walk or even crawl, by all means, you have to keep moving on.

You applied for the job at the newspaper and got rejected once again, reality hurts but what hurt you more was because it ruined the expectation of what kind of future you would be having.

Aren't we all hate when things didn't go according to plan?

You put all that rage and your hatred toward the world, and let yourself bleed onto pages.

The next thing you knew, pages were stacked in front of you.

Time flew by and the season changed so fast like turning a page of a book, what remained of summer was the withered flowers.

And you got older too.

"Happy birthday!"

Everyone cheered as you blew on the candles and made a toast while shouting your name in joy.

"Thank you, everyone!" You muttered to everyone.

Kim's brother brought out the first copy of your book as a gift and everyone got excited once again.

It was a moment that somehow made you feel so proud of yourself even though you didn't achieve something significantly great.

But it wasn't as pivotal as you thought it would be, it wasn't a moment in your life that you choose to get back to if you had a chance.

Apart from that, seeing everyone around you with proud smiles on their faces was enough to make your heart full to the brim.

Kim, being the one who is overly excited initiated another toast and it reminded you of the person who usually sat next to you at your birthday dinner.

You chugged down your glass and the alcohol burned down your throat or was it from you trying to hold your tears in?

"Hey!"

A hand tapped your shoulder when you were deep in your thought while holding another glass of champagne and it sloshed onto your hand.

"You must be very afraid of me that you flinched when I touch you," your sister said as he handed you tissues.

Putting down your glass, you wiped your hand and smiled, "No, I was spacing out!" You honestly said.

Your sister sighed and looked out at the window, at the pale moonlight shining on the back garden.

"I'm sorry," she apologized out of the blue.

You turned to see her with a confused look on your face.

She sadly smiled and said, "I've been so hard on you."

Your hands started to fidget, rubbing against each other in front of you.

"You're not—"

"Who are we kidding?" She cut through your sentence with a mocking laugh, "we are both old enough to know the truth."

She looked at you and put a hand on your shoulder, "that I've been putting a lot of pressure on you," she continued.

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn't find anything to say to argue her words.

"The truth is I'm the incompetent one so I pushed you to be better than me," she said with her head dropped like it was heavy with so much hate at herself.

"That's not true. You're not incompetent, you're anything but that!" You disagreed with her. She can be a bitch and at times, you hated her for how she always drives you up the wall. But to discredit her hard work like that doesn't sit right with you.

"Well, I tried to, and trying still..." she sighed.

Then she burst into laughter, "what's funny is we compete against each other and for what?"

When you thought about her question, it also baffled you that you were on each other's nerves unprovoked and to gain nothing in return.

"That's so childish of us!" You laughed along with her.

She squeezed your shoulder, "but you're too old to make a childish decision, right?" She asked.

"Excuse me, you're older!" You reminded her with a devilish grin.

"I don't need the reminder!" She said then handed you a white envelope.

"My birthday gift to you!"

You gasped because she came up with a new way of giving you a birthday gift, but it was obvious that she gifted the same like previous birthdays, "It's surprising that you didn't transfer it straight to my account!"

"It's different this time!" She said.

You guessed that it wasn't money this time because the envelope was so thin, "I'm disappointed already!" You joked.

Your sister laughed, "but it's so expensive and it's very hard to get!"

She watched you open the envelope and then left even before you see what was inside.

There was a ticket inside, a ticket to the major league baseball final game this weekend.

You automatically made a turn to find your sister and she winked at you the second your eyes met, and gave you a knowing look.

Her words replaying in the back of your head, that you were too old to make a childish decision.

It was a childish decision that you broke up with Seungmin because you were pathetically pitying yourself and you were tired of proving yourself when he didn't ask anything from you.

You realized how ridiculous it was to demand him to lower himself for you?

Looking back at it then, you felt so stupid for letting him go.

That day would be the first time for you to see him again after two years, two grueling years.

You've seen him of course, but indirectly, through the TV, newspapers, and on the internet. Seungmin was what you expected him to be, bigger than his name and tirelessly burning bright like the scorching sun.

Your sister wasn't lying when she said the ticket was expensive, she got you a good seat in the stadium and not in the crowded area that was full of die-hard baseball fans.

Seungmin wasn't playing until the 8th inning and your heart skipped a beat when you heard his name was called.

Everyone cheered for him and your applause only made the smallest sound of a pin drop among the roaring cheers.

Seungmin looked... the same.

The guy who sneaked his way in by being your assignment partner then took you to the batting cage and taught you how to bat.

He still has dark hair and even though he wore his hat low, you could see his doe eyes. You remembered how much you adore them and those eyes stared at you with such loving.

Your heart ached, you missed him so much and you couldn't take it anymore.

He took his stance as he got ready to bat and you held your breath along with him as the opponent stalled to pitch.

When he threw the pitch, Seungmin hit the ball right and loud that it made a cracking thunderous sound.

He made an easy home run and scored points for his team, making his team the winner of this season's championship for the first time since he joined.

The stadium collectively celebrating the win that you couldn't hear your own applause despite your hands were already hurt from clapping nonstop.

His face was on the big screen and his smile... that distinctive smile that always reminded you of a puppy smile.

Your eyes watering and you were sure it wasn't from the cold.

He was everything you expected him to be and beyond.

He was yours and you let him go.

But would it be childish if you want him to come back to you?

"Aren't you going to the game?"

Kim seemed surprised to see you already home and nursing a can of beer.

"I just came back a while ago," you replied.

Kim sat on the stool next to you and opened another can of beer for her, "did you meet him?"

"I saw him."

"And?"

"I watched his game then left."

Kim almost slammed her can on the kitchen island, "didn't you miss him?"

You got quiet and took a long gulp of beer, gasped when you swallowed it all down.

"I miss him so much I feel like my heart is about to burst!" You honestly answered.

"Then why?"

"I saw him playing and I thought..." you paused to take another gulp, "he was the only one living his best self."

Kim slammed her can with so much frustration that the content spilled out of her can, "stop with this bullshit! You guys love each other!"

She rarely gets mad but she must be beyond annoyed by your attitude to snap at you like that.

"I think..." you crumpled the empty can in your hand, "he's too far out of my reach now!"

Kim heavily sighed and shot up from her stool, "I am so done with you!" She said as she left you alone with your thoughts again.

You resisted the urge to pinch your cheek when you saw your book on the shelf at the bookstore.

It wasn't on the best seller shelf but still... having your ideas and turning them into words was one thing but to see it physically, a creation of your own.

Maybe this is close to what having a child feels like, you thought.

You planned on having a day out with Kim but it seemed like he was still pissed about your attitude, she refused going so you ended up spending the Saturday night on your own, walking the wet pavements after rain while shielding yourself from the cold.

On the way to find somewhere for dinner, you walked past a flower shop and saw a bucket of bright sunflowers and the yellow lifted your mood almost immediately that making your lips curl into a smile, they replaced the sun that was hiding behind the thick grey clouds.

You used to enjoy being all alone and didn't mind when you had to.

That was before you broke up.

The memories you shared with him started to fade but the feelings grew stronger, especially when you were like this, alone with your thoughts.

You tried to dull the pain with glasses of wine but they could only do as much, sometimes they worked and that night, it didn't.

So you ordered your eight glasses even though you haven't finished your dinner yet.

Seeing that sunflowers triggered something in you, a fond memory of when Seungmin waited by the bus stop.

You had a rough night, you fought with your sister and you went home with her hurtful words lingering, weighing you down the more they echoed inside your head.

Then, you stepped out of the bus to find him holding a bouquet of bright, yellow sunflowers but the smile he gave you shone the brightest.

You felt like crying because such a simple gesture could unshackle you from the hurt in this world in a second.

This was the one moment of your life you wished you could get back to.

A tear rolled down your cheek and you hurriedly wiped it before anyone in the restaurant saw.

"Can I have your autograph?" Someone asked.

You didn't think that person was speaking to you so you ignored him.

Then your book appeared in front of you, "Can you sign it?" He asked again.

You glanced up and saw him, Seungmin, smiling so softly at you.

You had to blink a few times to make sure your eyes didn't play any tricks on you.

He walked to the empty seat across from you and sat down, sliding a copy of your book in front of you.

"Can I have your autograph, please?" He asked again.

Seungmin looked the same and different at the same time, in the best way.

Except that he didn't wear the usual attire of his varsity baseball team jacket, he wore a dark jacket with a navy blue shirt underneath.

"I'll sign it once I'm done with dinner," you said with a smile.

He nodded and clasped his hands together, "Then I might as well have dinner too," he said.

You both ate dinner in silence, whether we both have so many things to say or no one has anything to say, the silence was comfortable and none of you wanted to break it.

The happiness that you felt was bubbling from the inside and it came out in a form of a joyous smile, there was a bit of awkwardness because it felt like you haven't smiled this wide in a long time.

The smile infected him, making him smile whenever your eyes locked in a gaze.

Before he could say anything else, you gave the server your credit card, "I'll pay for dinner!" You announced and not taking any objections.

Walking out of the restaurant together, you turned around to face him and sighed.

"I don't have any pen with me," you lied even though you always carry at least three pens in your bag at that moment.

He put on a thin smile and adorably pursed his lips, "what a pity!"

You shoved your hands into the pockets of your trench coat, "but I do have one at home," you said, lightly bouncing on your heels out of nerves.

He looked down and shyly smiled, "I can drive you home," he offered.

"That's convenient since I had a few drinks!" Your replies with a flustered smile.

It felt nostalgic being in a car with him, like you were back in college days and he was taking you out for a date after his practice had finished.

Except that you were older then, therefore you should be making wiser choices.

The car stopped right in front of your house and Seungmin turned the engine off, silence settled in the small space. There were so many things to say but what resonated in the back of your head was how much you missed him and he needed to know that.

You opened your mouth yet no words out of it, you took your safety belt off and turned your head at him, "I–"

Seeing his face made you forget what you were about to say to him, you cleared your throat and tried again.

"Can you help me find the pen?" You asked.

He struggled trying not to laugh.

"My house is uhm... a cluttering mess," you said while uneasily pinching your neck, flustered.

He unbuckled his seat belt and said, "Okay."

He followed you as you led him inside the house, from how quiet it was it seemed that Kim wasn't home.

You felt relieved because you couldn't have her jumped in the middle and shouted an 'I told you so" at you.

"It's a cluttering mess, I see," Seungmin beamed, looking around the house that was nothing close to what you said. He knows you're a very neat person and likes everything organized, and tidy.

You lowly giggled and looked down, walking to the kitchen counter to one of the drawers where all the random little things in the house went into.

"A pen!" You exclaimed when you found one inside.

Seungmin placed the copy of your book on the kitchen island and slid it in front of you.

You clicked the pen while flipping the page to the title page and scrawled your name then an autograph below it, hurriedly closed it before Seungmin could see the message you wrote on it.

He stifled a smile as he got the book back from you, he didn't want to part again, not when you were this close, within his grasp.

He swallowed air and softly spoke, "Is this enough space and time for you?"

He didn't dare to look at you, afraid that he'll get the answer he didn't want to hear.

You put down your pen and said, "not enough."

His heart slowly sank and it kept sinking, engulfing him in sadness. That was the answer he didn't want.

Then you took steps closer, closer until there were mere inches between your bodies.

"This is enough," you said in an incredibly low voice.

He couldn't avoid your eyes with the proximity and he kept staring into your eyes that to him were looking like two pools of warm honey.

The moment his yearning hand held yours, he felt like he just found his long-lost limb while his other hand reached to cup your face, he slowly leaned in so close to your face, that your lips met but were not yet kissed.

"Is this enough?" His lips grazed yours as he spoke.

You closed your eyes and breathlessly said, "No."

With that, Seungmin pressed his lips on yours, he kissed you more like he was a starving man and your kisses fed him fully but never enough.

Your bodies spoke their longing, melted into each other's embrace, tightly, and never let go. Bodies that answered to each other's needs and he knows just where to take you.

Hands painted your bodies with warm, gentle touches, and lips endlessly brushed yours at the same time your open mouth filled his with low moans.

His hips thrusting, keeping the motions going, slowly taking you higher where nothing can touch you, and the pleasure that kept filling you, taking you even higher.

You locked your legs around his waist and moved together with him, didn't hard to sync your movements together.

You stared into his eyes and found them staring back into yours, deep, intense, and didn't stray even for a second.

"Seungmin!" You called his name through your gritted teeth and a hand gripped his shoulder.

"Close, mmh?" He knew because of the way your walls fluttered around him.

Incapable of responding with a verbal answer, you nodded.

Seungmin slowed down, propping a hand next to your head to put a space between your bodies. He took a moment to look at your face and caressed your cheek endearingly.

"I want you to know that..." he paused to give your lips a chaste kiss.

"I'll never let you go again," he continued.

"Never!"

He held your cheek as he pressed another kiss on your lips, "whether you like it or not," he said with eyes bore into yours, "I'll always be yours."

Instead of claiming you, he chose to surrender himself to you, and you couldn't find anything more astounding than that. He wasn't asking, he was making a statement that he bravely declared without the slightest of doubt.

You regretted it more to ever let him go, you let your pride get to you and infected your relationship. You won't let it happen again and took the bravest decision to follow your heart, surrendering yourself to wherever it will take you.

You put your hand on his face and then said, "And I'll always be yours, Seungmin."

He put his forehead on yours and sighed, "Gosh, I love you so much."

Your heart ached when you heard it, the kind of hurt that felt so good.

You smiled and said back, "I love you."

With a lustful kiss, Seungmin continued moving and used his hand to keep your leg pulled up. He pulsated his hips, ramming into you in slow but deep and hard thrusts.

Seungmin knew where to take you and from your heavy, fervent breathing, the sultry low moans, and eyes screwed shut he knew you were so close.

Just a few more thrusts and you would touch the sky.

"God! Seungmin!" You groaned into his shoulder as you ascended, floating in pure, immense pleasure.

Seungmin followed you after, the way your walls sucking him in deeper sent him soaring high to cloud nine in a matter of seconds.

Seungmin missed this feeling where his head couldn't think of anything but you and this shared space where he feels the closest to you, apart from filling you with his seed, he felt all of his emotions rushing through him all at once.

It was only you that he thinks about, just you and you, your body, your smile, your beautiful plush lips, you, only you.

The one who belongs to him, you.

You knew it was morning without having to open your eyes, you didn't want to wake up yet, especially when it was this nice.

Seungmin wrapped his hands around your body while he spoon you from behind, his head resting just right on the nape of your neck you could feel his warm breathing.

Feeling cold, your hand groped around to pull the duvet, you forced yourself to open your eyes and gasped.

Kim was standing at the end of the bed just looking at you with a smile on her face.

"How long you've been watching us sleep?"

Seungmin got surprised as well, rubbing his eyes to see what was going on.

She sighed then answered, "A while."

"Hey, Kim!" Seungmin sleepily greeted her.

Kim sighed again and turned her head at Seungmin, "this is the last time I helped you guys get together, okay?"

You looked at Seungmin and shot him a questioning look.

"She told me where to find you last night," he gave you a short explanation.

"Oh?"

Kim clasped her hands together and put them in front of her, "aren't you two a fucking dense but lovely couple?" She sighed in a passive-aggressive way.

You softly chuckled in response, "Okay, we get it. Now can you please leave?"

"Why? Are you going to fuck again? Because I came home at 4 am and you guys were still at it," she complained but with a smile on her face.

"Kim, we've talked about personal space!" You reminded.

She rolled her eyes and unclasped her hands, "so much for helping you guys," she grumbled, turning around on her heels, then walking to the door.

"Thank you, Kim!" Seungmin said to her.

"I love you!" You shouted at her just before she exited the door.

"Yeah, right!" She dryly responded.

You turned on the bed to face Seungmin and got greeted by his bare morning face, brushing his fluffy bedhead like you always do.

"So, you didn't find me on your own?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

He put a hand on your waist, "I knew you came to the game," he said.

You got quiet because you didn't know, you got embarrassed because he knew you weren't trying to see him after the game.

"That's how I know that maybe it's time for us to stop hurting ourselves," he continued.

You smiled because that was true, except that you were too cowardly to do so.

"So I asked Kim where I can find you and she told me."

You placed a hand on his chest and felt the smoothness of his skin, "I was afraid, Seungmin."

"Why?"

"Because I thought you will never forgive me for what I did," you admitted.

"You didn't do wrong," he disagreed with you.

"I did a lot of thinking and I realized that you need to grow on your own too, to find your best self," he said, his hands squeezing the flesh on your waist.

"But I'm my best self when I'm with you," you remarked.

Your hand moved up to his neck and felt his pulse there, "I retraced every moment in my life in which I want to get back to if I had a chance."

You looked into his eyes because you wanted him to know how much you meant what you were going to say next, "and I wanted to get back to the moment when you offered yourself to be my assignment partner," you said.

He softly chuckled and pulled you closer, "would you ever change your answer?"

"Never," you replied without a beat.

He pulled you closer until your head pushed so close to his chest you could hear his steady heartbeat.

Seungmin kissed your bare shoulder, then dreamily sighed, "what should we do now?"

"Huh?"

"It seems like we're stuck to each other."

You kissed his neck and giggled, "I have an idea."

"Yeah?"

"We continued our plans," you simply answered.

He looked at you with an intrigued glare.

"And based on our plans, it's time for us to go on vacation to somewhere exotic," you elaborated the plan which you always recited to each other of the future you dreamed together.

"That's not a bad idea!" Seungmin agreed then kissed your lips.

Because what matters the most to him was not the plans, but the person that he'll do the plans with. It would be an understatement to say that he's happy, he was ecstatic about the future that you'll have together.

It felt like he won you with a home run, in the last inning.

Support my blog by kindly reblog, comment or tip me on my ko-fi!

taglist: @marvelsleehan @miixsh @blackonblackwaves @jisungsleftcheek @zaynlikfalls @leeknowrecord @a-hyunjinshairband @cloudyybinin @jisungsbff01 @bigsobforskz @a-katsukitty @dearalice @gabbunnyy @lixhues @yubinism @abiaswreck @whatudowhennooneseesyou @phobia0325 @crimesscene @sunggasm @channies-luv @hyunelixies @dontsd @pinkdragonwings21 @hyunjun-jpeg @whitecastles @eurphoricxbts @tokyolhtl @drhsthl @st4yr4cha @jeyelleohe @miumuam @hoshis-hoe @rinocats @yunho-leeknow @xuxibelle @tatumadams19 @nightrayseishina @omgheyitsme @lilithlilu @hyunee1 @avyskai @wniektty @felbok @kpopaddicted05 @kosmoskookie @kittykatvenom @zizis-world12 @tanyas97 @literallyags @klutzymermaid @elizalabs3 @lmaoracha @arraby2 @seochhj @shebbeh @chiefbananaearthquake @curiousgworge @endzii23 @confusedgrl @straykissss @yoshikke @jhslmhbtsskz @multieonnie @pxppin-98 @superwhomerlockuniverse @ccelliiaaa @angellixie @misosick @19yearsmemories @hayleyfields33 @seungschacco @traccc@bahngray @felix-the-chick @svintsandghosts @shiru-chan @skzworldx @hyunelix @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @javachipchan @wolfbang97 @bangdiana @tokki3s