#and soon enough there's no space left it gets solid and your whole world is now. just. foam

[viennahqz]

laura harrier. 30. cis female. she/her. » there’s vienna hughes who’s been living in ashford for her whole life. the icarus currently works as the owner of crumble & co bakery and they’re known for being empathetic but also impulsive at times. rumor around town is that she feels like people only see her for her failed marriage. i overheard they approve of the changes happening in ashford because it will be nice to get a new mix of people in town. - penned by bee | EST | 26 // @ashford-extra

{ tw: mention of parental death }

aesthetics: having a big heart despite it all, refusing to let others make her hard, always having flower on her clothes and dough under her nails, asking hard questions over coffee, an oversized flannel over something small and lacy, sacrificing everything for family, keeping her passions close to her chest but all of her emotions on her sleeves...

Vienna as always called Ashford home and has never really considered changing that.

Her family has been here for generations so everywhere she looks she sees parts of them.

The Crumble & Co Bakery has been in her family since they settled roots here and she spent her entire life with her hands covered in floor.

Her dad passed when she was really young, before solid memories really began to form so her and her mom were always best friends and with her mom passing last year destroyed her world.

As she always knew it would be, Crumble & Co has been passed to her. There was never really another path for her even if baking isn't her passion, continuing her family's legacy is so important to her

As much as she loves Ashford the only time she's ever considered leaving is after her divorce, but she's not a runner and she knows that.

Her and her ex husband got married was she was pretty young, only 22, because Vienna rarely stops to question her hearts decisions and she loves big and loves to give people the benefit of the doubt and has never met a red flag she couldn't love

Unfortunately you can't love someone into being a good partner if they aren't the right partner for you and you cant love someone into doing the work they need to on themselves so the marriage turned volatile pretty quick

Despite being short lived, it still haunts her. Not only does she have to see him regularly in such a small town, but this feels like the ultimate failure. How do you trust yourself after something life this? As someone who makes almost every decision off of gut feeling, what do you do when your gut lead you so wrong

She loves music, her dad was a musician and listening to his old recordings was how she felt any sort of connection and closeness to him and she started playing guitar as soon as she was old enough to hold the ones he left for her. Her real dream is to make music but the family bakery always has to come first in her mind.

Still when she has time to herself all she does is write and play, very few people actually know this about her because its something that is so personal and so raw

Vienna is very good at getting to the root of people and isn't afraid to ask revealing questions of people. Personally she's not too fond of small talk so she will quickly skip past that. Many people would describe her energy as a safe space.

Despite being really good at getting others to be vulnerable, its something she struggles with herself. She does that thing where she offers up just enough curated vulnerability that people think they really know her, but she keeps a lot of the heavy topics close chest

She loves love and doesn't let her romantic failures stop her from trying but she has found it hard to fully open herself up in a way that leads to long lasting relationships. Almost like she really wants love but is afraid of accepting it because that gives the other person more power over her than she's comfortable with.

#ashford.intro #this is a work in progress I will probably add more later

[patchworkideas]

Yugi/Atem, M Rated

-

Alternate Universe - Subnautica Fusion, No Subnautica Knowledge Required, Happy Ending, Science Fiction, Survival, Adventure, Romance, Grief/Mourning, Trauma, Fluff, Communication, Cultural Differences, Ancient Egyptian Religion - Freeform,

Includes but not very graphic: Sex, Injuries, Infection, Parasites, Politics, Death (not main characters and off screen)

-

Atem, Crown Prince of Khemet, a world only recently introduced to the wider universe. On the way to an arranged marriage to an alien princess he's never met. Hoping to save his people.

Yugi Muto, head engineer of the Gandora and grandson of the captain. The ship his home, the crew his family.

4546B, an unexplored ocean planet.

Two survivors. One lifepod.

-

Chapter 1

Atem wasn't even surprised anymore.

Exasperated, desperate, but not surprised. The last months had been getting progressively worse after all. Really, he should've expected this.

"Listen," he hissed with the little patience he had left, "I am not some spoiled tourist. Lives depend on me getting there in time. And if you can't get me there," he gestured derisively at the broken parts of the supposedly top class ship, "then tell me who can!"

The man looked at him calculatingly, before finally relaxing and drawling, "Well, you are trying to leave Federation space, so your pickings are slim. Needs a whole lot of paperwork to even get permission. That alone would take most ships days - if not weeks - at the very least to set up. Buuuut - I think I do know someone who could help you. Far as I remember old Solomon still has his permit, and is flying in that direction anyway. I meant to meet him here while both our ships filled their tanks. But I already sent him a rain check after your emissary in spe insisted the repairs couldn't wait - so he's likely not staying long. He's over in Bay 613. I can send a message, but if I were you I would run. No telling how long he's gonna wait."

Atem cursed in a highly un-princely fashion and gave the order - in his native Khemetian - to grab the most important gifts. They didn't have time to carry all of them over.

Grabbing one of the rings from his hand he turned to the man again.

"Send that message. And continue the journey as soon as you've finished your repairs. I will meet you there."

Handing the solid gold ring with its precious stones off to the man, he pulled out his rather new tablet for quick directions. It had definitely been overpriced, gift or not. Not even two month old and already much slower than it should have been. Stupid, cutthroat Federation tech-

Atem finally rushed forward. Blind, desperate hope to prevent a senseless war in his heart. To provide a future for his people.

Or at the very least buy them time to prepare with his own life.

-

"Only a fool would willingly travel through Zorkian space. Nevermind visiting their homeplanet. So no, I will not be flying you there. But!" the old man continued before Atem could further voice his desperation.

At this point he wasn't above begging and he feared it showed.

"I know there's a trading station with a direct connection - if you are fool enough to step foot on one of the Zorkian ships too. I can get you there, but it's going to cost you. Not that you will have use of any of your luxury where you are going."

"Thank you for the warning, Captain. I believe that this should suffice?" The number on the check was not a bad one for the distance, but admittedly on the low side considering they were leaving Federation space. Before the old man could voice his open displeasure Atem continued, "I will double it if you get me there in under a month."

"Triple. This old lady isn't made for speed, and on top of running her ragged she will need a whole lot more to drink."

"Deal." Atem agreed, aware of the calculating glint in the man's eyes. There was something about the captain that warned Atem not to underestimate him. Despite the jolly nature he had at first shown there was clear intelligence there. If they negotiated for long, like his people usually did, he feared the price would only rise.

And he really didn't have the time.

Nor the stomach, if he was entirely honest with himself. In which case he would have to admit that he would likely not be doing much negotiating at his destination either. Or ever again.

Honesty was overrated.

Captain Solomon blinked, and looked at him for a moment that felt like an eternity. Atem couldn't read him, even though that was literally what he was trained to do.

With people of his own culture, rather than planets all over the universe.

Not being able to read even a simple ship captain was disconcerting. Disheartening, really.

But in the end the captain laughed. They shook hands and that was that. Atem's fate was once again sealed.

And if there had been a hint of pity in the old man's eyes when he told them where to go, Atem ignored it.

He had been getting entirely too good at that.

-

Perhaps the pity for once had not been for his coming fate, but rather for the immense discomfort he and his people would be facing the next weeks.

"The cargo bay. They expect us to sleep in the cargo bay?!"

"They don't usually transport passengers. It was hard enough getting passage at all, and we all agreed before leaving that our mission is more important than our comfort. Did we not?" Atem admonished his attendant. Shada? Shadi?

He had read up on all six of them before undertaking the journey. Each of them volunteers without family. High enough up the hierarchy to matter, low enough they weren't irreplaceable.

The least he could do was remember their names.

But Atem was tired, tempers were high, and most of all he just wanted his friends right now. Mana who could make anything look like a good thing, could make him laugh when he was crying. Mahad who always knew what to say, who had fought tooth and nail and had to be restrained when Atem left anyway.

Atem couldn't let him come along, as he would have if given the chance.

And he couldn't not go. His people needed him.

Even with all that in mind he was still glad when one of the crewmen came by and at least fabricated them some beds.

A young man - boy? - with wild, colorful hair. Same height as his, but Atem was short for a Khemetian. And Federation people all seemed to be giants.

Quickly silencing his attendants muttering, he nodded his head in thanks - a federation gesture he had picked up from their diplomats.

There was nothing comfortable about this journey or the destination, but at least he wouldn't already be hurting all over when he arrived.

Chapter End

Wanna Read More? Head to AO3. Updates weekly!

#yu-gi-oh #subnautica #yugi muto #atem #Puzzleshipping #my writing #Second chapter is up!

[erstwhilesparrow]

this happens just about every year, around this time when the sunsets start going from sharp to buttery. it's always the same, but the funny thing is i can't bring myself to be bothered by that. i want to tell you about it. here, sit with me a minute?

the bridge is concrete most of the way through, beige-ish grey. coming up on it on the bus, it looks like a solid hill, rising up toward the palely blue sky. the moon is a thin radish slice stamped on the vault of the heavens, and if you get the hour right, the sun paints the whole inside of the bus golden-yellow. if you were driving, you would feel the pull of gravity as the incline gets properly going, would have to set your foot a little firmer on the gas pedal and insist on the climb. if it's windy, the rattle of our means of conveyance drowns it out.

underneath, unfurling from the underside of the bridge, there's train tracks, long metal lines joining this part of the city to the rest of it. sequins of light spark from the windows of the skyscrapers that make the horizon on our left. on our right, more tracks, and flat-roofed buildings, squat as toy blocks, not dusty but very settled. with words, the landscape is crowded, but it's really a rather sparse space. you can imagine this is the sort of place people from downtown escape to. look a little further, and the blues of the horizon might be water, might be mountains, might be sky.

we're at the top of the bridge now; this is the best view you're going to get. pay a little more attention to the bus with me. yes, there are people in here. yes, their lives are many and varied. the sun flares off the curve of a metal support into your eyes. don't turn to look, but there's a girl in the back, and i think i know her. her head is turned toward the windows on the left, same view we just had. her headphones are a peachy pink, her bag plain and practical and maroon. her coat is black down to the fur trim on the hood. her hijab is blue, some shade more alive than the sky.

but it's not really the girl i'm thinking of. it might be her. it might be my heart. that's the sweet agony of it: i don't know, and i won't ask. the girl i see sitting back there, one day, one day soon, it will be ten years since we were both twelve and i adored her so fiercely it calcified as physical pains in the place where my ribs point toward each other. when we last spoke as those twelve-year-old girls, she gave me a card with a whole world inside it, where we would be close as sisters forever. i think of her, and i think of the girl behind us who might be her but who won't meet my gaze even if it is her, and i am reminded again that i really, really believe this: whatever i feel for her now is the closest i will ever get to falling in love.

i didn't get to tell her, but i have to carry the memory with me now: one saturday, still a child for whom saturdays meant an impassable space between one waking hour under the covers and another seated at the dining room table, i started dreaming a garden for us. it's still in me somewhere, not the flowers i wasn't sharp enough to learn, not the exact place i built up the little wooden house we would share, but the shape of that garden, all winding paths, tall grass, and a bench we would sit on together to watch the seagulls call.

i cannot tell you this and make you understand how true it is, but i must say it anyway. there is a piece of my heart that will always be for her. i don't think of her often (this thing in my chest is neither leash nor thorn) but i have a tenderness for her that refuses to run out. she doesn't know it. i don't know her. we are not sisters anymore, and the garden lost its gate when my first phone went dark, but this girl--

if i just turned my head, do you think we could find our way into each other's lives again? if she was willing, i think i would be amenable to that.

ah, but we have seen each other from opposite sides of long hallways before, and she didn't want to see me, so i didn't see her. looking through the windshield, we can see the slope all the way down now, how the hill continues past the end of the bridge, on and on careening between buildings toward the shore. the water level around here used to be higher. the place we are going used to be underwater. pull the cord, please; the next stop is ours.

#sparrowsong

[gooeykit]

I've circled back around to my recurring realization that I live my life in standby always trying to be at the ready and it leaves me feeling like i never get to do what i want to do and so once someone calls on me to do something, i'm already exhausted by waiting and dont want to do it because 'i dont get to do what i want to, i want to not do this' and its just stasis in the end.

I don't want to learn because I never do what I want to do and when I want to learn im exhausted by waiting. i dont want to work because its never work i want to do and by the time it is, im exhausted by waiting. I stay in stasis waiting to be called on and grind everything i have to halt myself and once im called forth, my systems break down because the power was expended.

I do want to learn, I want to study arts and language and I want to read what im interested in and i want to take it in and i want to do well. i dont want to be cynical and ive been working against it sure but its never enough. I dont want to live in standby, always ready, which sucks because i do want to be there when its asked of me.

the only healthy way to do this is to not live in standby, but ive been doing it so long and when i see it and i want to make my break for it, every reason in the world is in my way. i want to go for a walk and leave my phone and be only by myself, but it'll be dark soon and it's cold now and what if i get hurt or what if im needed what if nobody knows i left and nobody knows where i am. i dont want to go on a walk.

i want to draw but drawing's all i do, my well is dry. im tired of sitting, there are caluses on my ankles from sitting on my feet and my whole world is 7x3 feet of space in my room almost all of my time.

i cant even consider it leisure. i dont want to lay down anymore, but i dont know what there is outside. i need to go out to learn, but wheres the goal? sure i could go aimlessly but then i wont have anything solid, then i risk not being ready for a question. but then im not ready for the question 'what do you do with your time? what do you do with yourself?' and the answer is nothing. the answer should be nowhere because i should be outside walking. i want to go 'nowhere'. i want to meet 'nobody' and i want to see 'nothing'. not as solid answers, but to leave it open ended. but open ended of what? well maybe i should love not knowing so that i may learn. who cares and i hope it's 'nobody'

[ao3komorii]

The Silver Path (Spirit Blossom Thresh/Reader)

It is finally here! Just a note for people who played the spirit blossom event, I’ve decided to make Thresh more subdued/shy than he was in that event. Sort of a “what if instead of holding a grudge against Ahri after their conflict, he just got sad.” Nevertheless, hope you enjoy! Just as a note, there is smut at the end :)

-----

Checking one final time that you hadn’t forgotten anything, you folded the cloth over the carefully-packed items before picking up the woven basket. You could not risk forgetting even one tribute, as angering even one spirit would spell doom for the village; your grandmother had stressed that very severely when she had trained you. Leaving your home, you couldn’t help but feel nervous, even if this wasn’t the first time that you had made this trip.

You had been the village’s spirit guardian for six months now, ever since your grandmother had passed away. You hadn’t felt ready when the role had been passed to you, but you had no choice. It was probably for the better that you had no choice but to step into the role, since you doubted that you would ever feel truly ready for the responsibility that was now yours.

Mount Targon was tall, the tallest mountain in Runeterra by far, and also the most treacherous. Travelers came from places near and far to ascend to the peak, having heard of the mystic mountain that promised to open the heavens before any mortal that successfully made it to the top.

Many tried, and many failed, their bodies destined to never leave the mountain where their bodies had given out. The upper reaches of the mountain were unlivable, and nearly unclimbable, fraught with winds and storms and plagued by avalanches. The display of cosmic radiance offered by the peak would not be easily attained, and yet people would never stop trying.

Despite living far below the mountain’s peak in a small valley to the south, you were still not safe from its wrath. You had never experienced it yourself, but long ago, even the lower parts of the mountain had been uninhabitable. The area had been plagued by rockslides and inhabited by vicious animals, but the patience and determination of your ancestors had won out in the end.

It had all started when an ancestor of yours had climbed the mountain path in search of a way to make the land livable, but had instead found a door. On the other side of the door, they had discovered a passage to the world of spirits, and had bowed low, begging for their protection. In exchange, the spirits asked for a tithe to be paid every month when the moon was at its highest in the sky.

And since then, once a month a representative of the village would walk the spirit path to bring each spirit a gift, and in turn, your village would be protected. The responsibility had been passed down through your family, and as you were the last one of your family left after your grandmother had died, the task now fell to you.

There were ten spirits in all, and each had their own tastes. Your grandmother would never tell you what she brought them, insisting that you would have to develop your own relationship with the spirits by learning their preferences on your own. You had been terrified the first time you had walked the spirit path, leaving small trinkets you had knitted for the spirits, but to your great relief, no boulders or storms had struck your village in the days after. When you had returned the next month, some spirits had taken your gifts, and some had not, so you knew to bring a different gift to those pedestals the next month.

While you had never seen the spirits, you began to get a sense of what they liked; the spirit of the snake altar liked jewels and other shiny objects, the mushroom altar spirit liked small toys, and the antler altar spirit liked vegetables. Most of the spirits would accept whatever you brought, but a select few hadn’t accepted any yet, which had been a frustrating experience for you. But they hadn’t revoked their protection, so you assumed that they were willing to be patient with you until you presented them with something they liked.

Keeping your head down as you passed by the other residents of the village, you made your way to the base of the mountain. As you ascended the gentle incline, you went over the all-important rules in your head; enter no earlier than ten at night, and leave no later than midnight. The spirit gate was only open for two hours each month, and if you didn’t leave in time, you would be trapped in the spirit world for a month until the gate reopened. It had only happened a few times in the long history of your people’s time here, but nobody who had gotten stuck in the spirit realm had ever returned, which was more than enough of a deterrent for you.

You paused as you approached the spirit gate; you were a few minutes early, as was your usual routine, so now there was nothing to do but wait for the gate to open itself up to you. You could only hope that at least one of your previously-rejected gifts had been accepted this time, but the spirits could be finicky.

As you stared at the metal archway that made up the gate to the spirit world, the open space of the archway began to glow. The glow got more and more solid, and soon you were standing in front of a swirling door; pinks, blues and purples flowed around each other, making the doorway almost look like the surface of a mystical lake. As you stepped into the magical doorway, you reminded yourself again of the last rule, be out by midnight. You had done this before, you could do it again.

As always, you found yourself standing at the start of a path made of silver light. You stared out at the colorful forest that now surrounded you, the silver path winding around the cherry blossom trees as it led towards the shrines of the spirits. As you began to walk forward, basket of tokens in hand, you kept your focus on the path ahead.

Your grandmother had stressed that you were never to leave the path, no matter the circumstance. The path kept you on track, and more importantly, unseen.

The spirits were not the only ones to inhabit this world; while this was a place for spirits, it was also inhabited by azakana, the race of demon spirits that fed on human suffering. You had never seen the spirit deities, but you had on occasion caught sight of dark shapes moving around the trees, the shadows alone sending shivers along your skin.

While you were on the path, they could not see you, and they could not touch you. You had heard too many stories about azakana as a child from your grandmother; stories of azakana ripping people apart, swallowing them whole… you had heard more than enough to do everything you could to avoid contact with the vicious creatures. Part of you wondered if that was what had happened to the spirit guardians who never returned, but you tried not to dwell on it. You could think about the dangers of the azakana when you were safely back in your village.

Trying to calm your mind, you took the opportunity to admire the scenery as you walked along the path. Even as dark as it was, the light pink trees were undeniably beautiful, the petals that fell around the path creating a scene that looked straight out of a painting.

The forest was dense with trees, but your path remained clear of even petals or dirt, the silver under your feet glowing with celestial light. You took notice of small animals as they roamed the forest, your attention focussing in on an unnaturally-colored fox as it walked along the thick root of a tree before disappearing from sight. While you couldn’t help but want to observe the unique landscape of the spirit realm, you did not stop walking. Your time here was finite, and you knew that you could not afford to get caught up in the beauty of this place, not unless you wanted this forest to be your tomb come midnight if you did not leave on time.

As the trees began to thin out, you caught sight of the short wooden bridge that would take you across the river and to the first of the spirit temples. You approached the shrine to find it empty, as it always was, absent of even the small animals that roamed the forest.

You had been by here six times before, long enough for you to feel at least somewhat comfortable navigating your way around. The silver path led you right up to a purple pedestal decorated with a vibrant snake made of gems that were deeply embedded in the stone of the podium. Coming to a stop at last, you opened up your basket with a small smile; at least the snake spirit was easy to choose gifts for.

Reaching into the basket, you pulled out a small brooch in the shape of a tied ribbon. It was made of pure silver and dotted with brightly-shining gems. You had spent a while selecting it, so you hoped that the spirit would accept it. The bracelet you had left last time had been taken, which gave you a nice burst of confidence. You could only hope that the rest of your gifts from last month had been accepted as well.

Placing the brooch in the center of the pedestal, right on top of the jeweled snake’s body, you closed the basket, turning to continue on the path. You had nine more shrines to visit after all, and a restrictive window of time.

If you remembered correctly, the next shrine was the one with twin swords carved into its pedestal. One of the tough ones. Not one of the gifts you had left there had been accepted. With no other option, you were left to keep guessing, bringing a different thing each time in hopes it would be accepted.

As you approached the simple stone pedestal, you were surprised to see it empty. Your excitement quickening your steps, you hurriedly approached the temple, heart soaring as you looked down at the twin blades carved into the ancient-looking stone.

You stared at the simple carving, willing yourself to remember what it was you had brought last time. After a moment of thought, you recalled placing a simple wooden flute on the pedestal, more out of desperation than anything. You weren’t sure what about the flute the spirit was interested in, but you were relieved that one of the more picky spirits had accepted one of your gifts at last.

Reaching into your basket, you pulled out a delicately-carved wooden bird. Hopefully the fussy spirit would like the bird, but even if you came back next month to a rejection, you knew now that the spirit had an interest in musical instruments. You were starting to see what your grandmother had meant when she had said you would come to get an understanding of each spirit’s personality, even if you still had yet to have all of the spirits accept a gift from you.

After placing the wooden bird on the pedestal, you bid farewell to the shrine, walking towards the slender purple trees that denoted the next spirit’s domain. This spirit had the most unusual symbol – a horned mask that was reminiscent of a demon. You had no idea what the spirits actually looked like, but had no desire to meet the spirit of this shrine, afraid that their symbol denoted a demonic personality as well.

It didn’t help that the forest that led to his shrine was impossibly dark and dense. Unlike the domains of the other spirits, you had never seen an animal in this forest, just dark trees that loomed over you with branches like forked lightning, blocking much of the already-dark sky overhead.

Despite the scary appearance of this spirit’s domain, they had accepted all of the gifts that you had brought so far. As scary as this place was, you were relieved that you likely didn’t have to worry about this particular spirit taking their wrath out on you or your people for a lack of gifts they deemed acceptable.

After a few minutes of walking, the darkly-colored temple of the demon mask spirit finally began to show through the trees. You continued to walk towards the temple, eyes focussed on the small building’s sloping roof, when you were stopped by a tug on your long ceremonial skirt.

Turning back, you found one side of your skirt caught on a thorned branch that ran along the ground. With an annoyed sigh, you pulled gently at your skirt, wanting to avoid ripping your skirt in the process of disengaging yourself from the vine.

You felt annoyance rise up in you when your gentle tugs did nothing to free you, your skirt still firmly ensnared by the thorns. You sighed; you really didn’t have time for this, not with how many more temples you still had to visit.

Putting down your basket, you took hold of your skirt with both hands and gave it a harsh tug, resolving to just repair the skirt later if it ripped. When one hard pull failed to free you, you began to yank repeatedly at the fabric, knowing that it would be a bad idea to reach your hand outside of the path to grab the vine itself.

After at least a minute of pulling on your skirt, you were getting desperate. The skirt’s material was too tough to rip easily, and you didn’t have a knife on you to tear it with. The only weapon you had on you was a small stone ball wrapped in a prayer scroll, an old weapon used to scare off azakana that your grandmother had said you must always have on you while in the spirit realm. You had thought it was silly, but she had insisted, despite never encountering an azakana herself even though she had been the spirit guardian for so much of her life.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you resolved to give it one last try, and then you would have to just take off the skirt. As unhappy as you would be to do the rest of the walk with just underwear and shoes on your lower half, getting stuck in this place would be infinitely worse.

Both hands gripping onto your skirt, you took a deep breath as you braced yourself, and then pulled hard. Unlike the past few minutes, this time your skirt was dislodged immediately, as if it had never been stuck in the first place.

You had expected a fight of it, and had yanked on your skirt so hard that it coming free easily threw you entirely off balance. The long skirt did you no favors as you stumbled on it, trying to right your balance, but the fabric won out in the end as you stumbled back into your forgotten basket, causing you to trip and fall backwards with a surprised yell.

You closed your eyes reflexively as you fell backwards, your back immediately uncomfortable as you fell back against what felt like a large tree root. But the stinging of your back was nothing compared to the explosion of sound and sight you experienced as you opened your eyes.

The spirit realm had always been silent and still, but now it was anything but. The previously-quiet skies were now filled with the most horrifying creatures you had ever seen, demonlike bodies twisting in the skies as they let out inhuman screeches and growls. The trees too were infested by many-limbed azakana, their claws digging into the bark of the trees. Eyes wide with terror, you were confused as to why this was happening all of a sudden… at least until your eyes focussed in on the silver path just ahead of you.

You shot up with a gasp. You had fallen off the path, broken one of the only rules your grandmother had set for you, and now you were seeing why it was so important.

You had to get back there before any of them saw you. If you attracted the attention of even one of these demons, you were dead for sure.

Your skirt still tripping you up, you scrambled forward on your hands and knees, desperate to get yourself the few feet it would take to get back onto the silver path. Your fear began to morph into relief as your hand reached the path, followed by the rest of your upper body. You quickly made to crawl the rest of the way back onto the path, glad to have the momentary terror behind you, when you were startled by a painfully tight grip on your ankle.

Before you could react, you were yanked backwards, your attempts at gripping onto the ground futile as you were suddenly thrown back in the air. You landed harshly on the ground, the wind knocked out of you, whole body burning with pain.

Sitting up with a groan, you flattened your back against a tree in fear as you took in the approaching form of the most horrifying creature you had ever seen.

It had the body of a worm, but it was at least fifty feet long and twice your width. It loomed over you, its giant body writhing with excitement that was plain on its face. While its body was that of a worm, it had the face of a demon. Wide yellow eyes, pupilless and oversized for its face stared you down, its jaws open wide, teeth as long as your fingers gleaming even in the dark. Its face was blood red, nose two slits on its face while several horns protruded from the crown of its head.

Looking around, you realized that you had nowhere to run. With a tree at your back and this thing’s massive body blocking the way back to the path, you were trapped. Eyes darting around, you tried to find something, anything that would help you, but all you could see were the dark trees; that, and the azakana around you had all stopped their screeching to stare hungrily at the scene before them.

As you were desperately pondering a way out of this situation, the giant worm began to close in on you, eager to claim its prey. As you squirmed against the tree, a small thump against your thigh reminded you of the protection stone you had sitting in your skirt’s pocket. If you threw it at the creature, it could give you enough time to escape back to the path and get yourself out of this nightmare.

You reached quickly into your pocket, but the movement seemed to spurn the azakana into action as well as it quickly darted towards you. You managed to throw the stone, but cried out in pain as one of the demon’s horns impaled your shoulder at the same time.

Upon hitting the creature, the stone broke apart into silver smoke that quickly filled the area. The azakana jerked back with a shriek as soon as the smoke hit it, fleeing as fast as it could. Its cries of agony were not the only ones to pierce the air; the smoke quickly spread around the forest, causing the rest of the azakana to flee when it came near them. Soon their cries faded and you were left alone and bleeding, vision obscured by the thick smoke.

You clutched your shoulder, your fingers becoming quickly soaked by your own blood as you gritted your teeth from the pain. You braced yourself against the tree, slowly standing up, keeping a hand pressed to your still-bleeding wound. You desperately tried to seek out the path with your eyes, but you were feeling increasingly dizzy the more blood you lost.

Your vision was growing shakier by the second as you pushed yourself off the tree, stumbling in what you believed to be the direction of the path. Every step felt like a mile as you slowly shuffled forward, but you forced your body onward; in your current state, you knew that you were dead if you stopped moving. Your best bet would be to turn back and leave the way you had come in. You would have to bring the other spirits two gifts next time to make up for the empty pedestals they would find tomorrow and hope they would not take their anger at your failure out on your village.

It was hard to pick out a silver path in the midst of the silver fog, but you nearly cried with relief when you spotted the familiar otherworldly silver light peeking through the smoke. You dragged yourself the last bit of the way, strength failing you, and collapsed as soon as you were back in the safety of the path again.

You whimpered, clutching your shoulder as you tried to ignore the searing pain. Looking down, you found your formerly-white shirt red with blood, the material sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You were finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain, never having dealt with a wound this extreme before.

Letting out a sob as the strain it caused your wound, you forced yourself to your feet again. It was hard to see with all the smoke in your way, but you had to keep moving or you would bleed out long before the azakana would get another shot at you.

Your vision was now so blurry that you felt like you were dreaming, but you pressed onward, following the light of the silver path. If you hurried, you could make it back in time to find a healer, because you knew that you would die without help.

It felt like you had been walking for an hour when the fog that surrounded you had finally cleared, but when it did, you felt like crying. Instead of the two-bladed spirit’s temple, you found yourself staring at the familiar temple of the demon mask spirit. You took a few more stunned steps before collapsing beside the spirit’s pedestal. You had gone the wrong way.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at the temple that signalled your own incompetence, or at your blood staining the grass beneath you. This was it; your spirit had become as broken as your body, leaving you with no more strength to move or even open your eyes. You would die here, so far from home and in incredible pain. You could only hope as your consciousness drifted away that you had not doomed your village as well.

 You woke up feeling slightly cold, as if your window had been left open on a chilly night. You kept your eyes closed for another minute, waiting for the aching in your head to fade, finally opening them when your head had stopped pounding.

You weren’t dead, but you didn’t know where you were. The room that you now found yourself in was large, but lacking any furniture other than the futon bed you were laying in. The wall was patterned with a mountain scene that had you transfixed, at least until you realized that you were able to move your shoulder without any pain.

Hurriedly sitting up, you turned to look at your shoulder, seeing a large hole in your shirt, but no gaping wound. The blood that had soaked your clothes was now dry, the only evidence that you had bled at all the stains that covered your clothing. You touched the area where the wound had been, still unable to believe that it had vanished, before you remembered the events that had led up to the wound being inflicted on you.

Had someone found you and brought you back to the village? You weren’t in your home, you knew that much for sure. You had never seen these walls before, not a single note of recognition coming to you as you got up from the futon and began to look around the room.

Seeing no clues, you decided to leave the room. If someone had rescued you, then you needed to thank them. And as much as you didn’t want to, you had to explain what had happened to the village elders. This had been your mistake, and you couldn’t hide from it, not when it concerned the safety of the village.

Leaving the room, you found yourself in an empty hallway. The room that you had been in was the last one in the hallway, so there was only one direction for you to go. You passed a few doors on your way down the hall, but they were all closed, and you didn’t want to intrude on your rescuer’s privacy after they had rescued you from certain death, so you left them be.

“Hello?” you called out when you turned from the hallway into a small entrance room, slightly disappointed to find it empty as well. Where was the owner of the home?

At least this room was less barren, so you took the time to wander around the room and take a look at things while you gave the person some time to return before you headed home.

While there was no furniture in this room either, your gaze was drawn to the lanterns that were hung from the ceiling of the room. They were hung a bit too high for you to reach, so you had to settle for staring at one from below. Even with the height difference, you could tell that they had an odd glow to them that you couldn’t place. You had never seen a lantern glow like that before, and had to avert your eyes when an unsettling feeling that you were having a hard time placing began to creep up on you.

As you turned to look at the doors ahead of you, the feeling began to intensify. Your wound disappearing, the mysterious glow of the lanterns, and the owner of the home’s absence… it was all pushing you rapidly towards a conclusion that you didn’t want to accept.

Slowly, you walked towards the doors, knowing that you would have to open them and either confirm or deny your sudden suspicions. It was hard to believe that someone from your village had come into the spirit world to save you, but you wanted to believe that it was the truth. But each step you took towards the door eroded your confidence more and more, but you had to know.

The door felt cold against your palm, unease swirling in your chest as you stared at the wooden door, knowing you needed to open it, but afraid to know the truth. Cursing your own cowardice, you began to push the door open before you could convince yourself not to, watching as the small sliver of outside grew as you opened the door wide enough for you to slip out of it.

Your hopes were dashed immediately. There was no mistaking the purple of the trees for your small village, nor the unnaturally clean river that flowed around the temple you stood outside of. It was equally as unbelievable as being rescued by one of the villagers; who could have rescued you from certain death in this place? You had never seen a soul here besides the azakana and the small animals that roamed the forests, and neither one of them likely had the desire or means to save your life.

Your chest felt tight as the possibilities swam in your head. Were you dead? You didn’t feel dead, but how else could you have woken up in the spirit realm, your deep wound completely gone?

Now that you knew you were still in the spirit world, you couldn’t just go back into the temple and pretend that everything was alright. But what were you supposed to do? The sun was out, so it was clearly daytime, so there was little chance of the path still being here, not unless your grandmother had lied to you.

It was weird looking out at the spirit world in the daytime; you had only ever seen this place at midnight hours, and found yourself transfixed by the beauty of this world in the daytime as well. The purple trees gleamed in the sunlight, swaying gently with the morning breeze. The whole scene would have been calming, if it weren’t for the fact that no human was ever supposed to see it.

You knew that the path home would not be open for a whole month, and while the thought was depressing, you couldn’t just give up. Just because nobody who had gotten trapped here had ever returned didn’t mean that there was no other way back. You couldn’t fool yourself into being optimistic, but you also weren’t willing to roll over and die without trying to find a way out of here.

Reluctantly, you made your way down the steps, heading towards the pedestal that stood in front of the temple. The carved demonic mask in the stone of the pedestal stared up at you, just as you thought it would. You knew that those distinctive purple trees were only in the demon mask spirit’s territory, but part of you refused to believe that was where you were until you gazed down at the pedestal that could not have belonged to anyone else.

You hung your head as you tried to make sense of what had happened to you. All signs pointed towards someone or something here saving you, but you couldn’t understand why a spirit would save you. From all you knew of them, the spirits did not act unless there was a benefit for them. You let out a sigh, tracing the pedestal carving with your fingers as you pondered your next move.

“Are you alright, little human?”

The deep voice directly behind you combined with a clawed hand on your shoulder startled you back into a hard chest with a gasp. Spinning around so quickly you nearly gave yourself whiplash, you came face to face with the spirit you had been the most afraid of, the one wearing a golden mask over his face identical to the one carved into the face of the pedestal.

“You… you…” you stammered, backing away from the figure.

You shivered with fear, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continued to back away from the spirit, not taking your eyes off of his intimidatingly large figure.

He was tall, taller than all of the men in your village, but it wasn’t his height that quickened your steps backward. His skin was bright purple, the ridges of his defined chest and abdomen a vibrant fuchsia. You could see none of his face, as it was covered by a golden mask with white slits for eyes and sharp golden teeth. Though now that you thought about it, the mask could <i>be</i> his face; you had never seen a spirit before, so you had no idea what they normally looked like.

His outfit consisted of a short vest and hakama pants, a thick silver braided cord laced through a gold masklike buckle tied around his waist like a belt. Other than two beaded necklaces around his neck, he wore no other accessories. His wild silver hair was tied back, but hung behind him in spikes, two large horns jutting out of his forehead. Overall, he made for a very intimidating figure, each step he took towards you prompting you to take one back.

“I’m sorry for being in your domain,” you fearfully apologized, staring at his mask. “I’ll leave now so you–”

“Stop!” he demanded, the authority in his voice stopping you in your tracks.

You flinched as he pulled a section of cord from the back of his belt, the end of the cord tipped with a large golden hook. Before you could react, he tossed the hook your way, the implement making a sharp noise as it cut through the air. You shut your eyes, too scared to move as you awaited your death for upsetting the fearsome spirit.

A horrific screech from behind you had your eyes flying back open, watching as the spirit’s hook dragged a large dark creature past you and towards himself. Clutching your hands to your chest, you watched as the struggling azakana was yanked towards the spirit, who then slashed at it with his claws, the demon vanishing with an ugly scream.

As soon as the azakana had been killed, the spirit re-stowed his hook before turning his attention back to you. He approached you again, slower this time, his head bowed slightly, and you were struck by the thought that he seemed to be trying to make himself appear less threatening to you. You were so confused by his sudden meekness that you just stared in confusion as he approached you.

He stopped a short distance from you, and now that he was close, you finally took notice of his long ears, longer than any ears you had seen before even on an elf, but now those ears were drooped downwards. The large spirit was silent before you, looking like a kicked puppy.

When he was confident that you weren’t going to run from him, he slowly reached up towards his face, pulling the face plate from his mask away from his face. You were surprised to see relatively normal facial features, minus his large brow ridge where his forehead met his horns. His face was as purple as the rest of him, but his eyes were the most unusual feature of his face, fuchsia where they would be white on a human, his irises white instead. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but he didn’t look anything like the monster you had imagined would be under that demon mask.

“I apologize if this form… repulses you,” he said, his long ears still drooped.

How could you have ever thought he was a monster? Seeing how sad he looked, you felt overcome with the need to comfort him.

“No,” you refuted gently. “You don’t repulse me. And… you saved me back in the forest, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he confirmed quietly, seeming awkward under your curious gaze.

“But why would you–”

You were cut off by a loud howl from the forest behind you, and watched as the spirit’s expression turned severe, a deep frown overtaking his features. His gaze flit to something behind you, but before you could turn back to see what he was looking at, you were distracted by him stepping closer to you.

“We must head inside my temple,” he spoke quietly but sternly, his white eyes still on the forest behind you. “It is not safe for you out here.”

Without another word, he turned to retreat towards the temple, your eyes drawn to the shiny gold hook on the back of his belt, the same hook he had used to draw the azakana to him earlier before he had clawed it in half. As unnerving as his appearance was, he had saved your life more than once now, so after a short moment, you shelved your reservations about him for now and scurried after him. You heard another demonic howl as you retreated, but were too scared to look behind you as you climbed up the steps to the temple, following behind the spirit as he entered.

Entering the room, you found the spirit standing in the middle of the room, facing you. Feeling unsure, you slowly entered the temple, flinching when the door shut by itself as soon as you had walked through it. You looked back at the doors in disbelief before turning back to face the purple-skinned spirit, but were surprised again to find a different man in his place.

“Who–” you gasped, backing up, watching as the handsome man’s face was overcome by surprise and concern.

He stepped towards you but then froze, lowering his hand to his side. The motion brought your eyes down to his hand, frozen beside a very familiar corded belt. There were clear differences; the end of his hakama was now lined with gold trim, and the rips in his collar and the tails of his belted sash were absent, but it was undeniably the outfit that the purple spirit had been wearing. Unchanged as well were the two horns that protruded from his head, still the vibrant shade of deep purple melding into fuchsia.

Whereas before you were afraid to look at him, now you couldn’t look away. The gold demon mask he had worn was gone, so now there was nothing obstructing his otherworldly handsome face. His eyes now looked like a normal human’s, minus his now-fuchsia irises, his skin now pale instead of the bright purple it had been. His formerly-silver hair still hung back in spikes, but the now-dark-purple locks also hung over his forehead and fell to the sides of his face. In all, he was absurdly handsome, his visage well-befitting the title of a spirit.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

Your eyes met his, and you felt your cheeks flare up with shame and embarrassment. Here he was looking genuinely concerned for you when you had been busy checking him out. You noticed that his ears had drooped again in worry, which was not helping you try to focus on something other than how cute he was.

Realizing that you should probably answer him, you nodded. “I’m okay. I didn’t expect your appearance to change so suddenly so I was… surprised.”

“I apologize,” he said, eyes flitting to the ground. “I understand that a demon’s appearance would be distressing to a human.”

“No!” you interjected, not wanting to make him look so sad, but also not wanting to have to own up to your blatant ogling. In the end, the spirit’s downturned eyes and drooping ears got to you, your cheeks pink in anticipation of what you were about to admit to. “It’s just… you’re much more handsome than I expected of a spirit with a demon mask for a totem.”

It was his turn to turn pink, his eyes looking up to meet yours, mouth open slightly in surprise. He smiled shyly, the sight not helping your soaring heartbeat.

“Lost souls run from me, so I feared that you would be the same,” he admitted.

You silently admitted to yourself that you could see why, given how intimidating his more demonic form looked. Not wanting to keep the mood in the room so down, you decided to change the subject and maybe get some answers at last, but were surprised when he spoke up first.

“You are welcome in my temple, little human. I am called Thresh.”

Oh. You weren’t expecting such a formal introduction, but gave your name in return with a small bow of your head. From all that you had been told as a child, a spirit’s temperament was fickle at best, and you were desperate to not offend the spirit before you, even if he hadn’t done anything to you up to this point.

Another horrible screech from outside the temple, sounding closer than before, had Thresh tensing up slightly. “Before I answer your questions, there is something that must be done first.”

The sounds outside were only growing louder and closer; it sounded like an army of azakana were approaching. You were so distracted by the noises that you failed to notice Thresh approaching you until he had taken one of your hands in his. With a quiet gasp, you looked down at your hand, his purple clawlike nails gently resting against your hand. Looking up from your hand, you found Thresh staring intently at you, the seriousness in his eyes catching you off guard.

“I must offer you my protection. It is the only way to keep the azakana at bay. Do you agree?” he spoke, leaving you feeling frozen under his intense gaze.

You couldn’t help but feel like there was some hidden meaning in his words that you were not understanding, but with the cries of the azakana getting closer, you didn’t have time to ask.

“I agree,” you spoke quickly, just wanting the azakana to go away.

Thresh nodded once before placing his other hand, the one covered in striped blue fabric up to his biceps, over the back of your hand. You watched as a purple glow surrounded his hand, and then engulfed your own hand. Your hand began to feel cold, <i>too</i> cold, but Thresh’s tight grip on you didn’t allow you to pull away. That, and your hand was feeling more numb by the second.

Just when the sounds of the demons outside were getting too close to bear, Thresh let go of your hand and the noises outside stopped all at once. Looking down at your hand, you found the previously-unmarred skin now bore a familiar mark… the same mark engraved into the stone pedestal just outside the temple. The purple demon mask laid on your skin like a tattoo, but it hadn’t hurt like you had heard they did; even the cold you had felt had quickly faded once Thresh had released your hand.

“My mark will protect you as long as you are within this temple or close to me,” Thresh explained.

Yesterday, the mask on your hand would have been terrifying, but now the sight brought you comfort; it was the only reason you weren’t being torn apart by azakana right now. But more than anything, you felt curious; why would a spirit go out of his way to protect you? There were lots of humans in your world; it wouldn’t be unusual for a spirit to view a human life like humans would view a bug.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked at last, at least a little proud that you had got the words out without stuttering.

“You are the human gift bringer, are you not?” Thresh answered your question with a question of his own, waiting for your stunned nod before continuing. “Your gifts have been a comfort a demon like me does not deserve. I could not allow such a precious mortal to die at the claws of the azakana.”

“How did you know I brought those gifts?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. As soon as you had spoken the words, you were kicking yourself; you were the only human that came to this world, at least to your knowledge, it was obvious how he knew who you were.

Thresh didn’t look annoyed, as you feared he would, but instead looked happy to answer your question. “Your aura is the same one that surrounds the items you leave. I could never mistake your aura for another.”

You couldn’t do much other than stare at him, astonished at the warmth in his voice. The thought of a spirit knowing of you personally was almost too much to comprehend. Your hands went to the collar of your shirt, needing something to fiddle with to settle your nerves, but you quickly retracted your grip on the material when you felt the unpleasant starch the dried blood lent to the fabric. Now that you thought about it, the shirt felt heavy and uncomfortable against your skin, the darkened ruddy red-brown color now a reminder of just how close you had come to dying. That, and your skin was still stained with dried blood as well; looking down at the red under your nails, you realized what a sight you must be right now. If anything, Thresh had more reason to be repulsed by your current appearance than the other way around.

As scared as you were to impose any further on him, you were just as reluctant to spend a month covered in your own blood. “Is there somewhere here where I can bathe?”

You felt bad asking, but you reminded yourself that it had to be done. If he said no, then that was that, but you had to try for your own sake.

Thresh looked pensive for a moment. “There is the lake of souls.”

You jolted at the ominous-sounding name. “Is that safe?”

“It is the place new human souls appear when they come to this world after death,” he answered matter-of-factly. “I have not gone there in so long. It is not a place for a creature such as I, undeserving of its essence. However, the waters there are safe for bathing in.”

Thresh walked past you to the temple doors, and you turned to follow him, eager for a bath, even if it was in some odd soul water. Thresh raised a hand to the door, but seemed hesitant to open it. You stared at his back, unsure of what to say, when he turned his head back to face you, that same sad look back on his face.

“I must warn you; outside of this temple, I do not have the power to maintain this form. I apologize if you find me distasteful to look at.”

“It’s okay,” you replied, quietly feeling sorry for the spirit. He seemed infinitely more bothered by his appearance than you were, which helped you to feel more comfortable around his purple-skinned form. You could never have imagined a spirit would be so meek.

You followed Thresh outside, but hesitated at the bridge that led over the river and towards the forest of purple trees, the trauma of being attacked by an azakana in that forest last night stopping you in your tracks with fear.

Thresh was halfway across the bridge when he noticed that you had not followed, turning back to cautiously approach you. He had forgone his golden mask, leaving only the metal along his jaw, so you could see the worry in his expression as he stopped before you, offering you his gloved hand.

“I promise that you are safe. While you are under my protection, the azakana cannot see you,” he spoke with earnest.

You stared at his hand for a moment before reaching out to grab it with the hand that was emblazoned with his mark, the purple horned mask shimmering under the morning light. Thresh grinned happily when you took his hand, his grin only half visible under the lower half of his golden mask. You weren’t sure if the golden metal that covered his lower face and the top of his ears could be removed or not, but you didn’t want to draw attention to his appearance, so you let him lead you across the bridge and into the forest.

Despite your initial apprehension, you found yourself admiring the beauty of the spirit world in the daytime. The colors were so much more vibrant, the entire forest seeming so much more alive than it had before. Even the animals seemed livelier, soft noises of life reaching your ears from the oddly-colored animals that called this forest their home.

While you could not be seen by the azakana, if Thresh were to be believed, the animals were a different story. You even caught sight of that odd little fox you saw on your visits sometimes sunbathing on a rock, its teal tail spread out below it, the tip falling to the ground. It looked very relaxed, until you caught sight of its ear twitching before its eyes opened and it stared directly at you, almost as if it wanted you to know that it had caught you staring.

Its gaze made you feel too exposed, like it knew something that you didn’t. You turned your attention elsewhere, not wanting to attract even the attention of a fox in this place. Now that you knew you were visible to the animals here, you wondered what other things lived in this place alongside the ones you had seen before. They lived in the spirit world though, so it was not a guarantee that they were as harmless as they seemed, which you would have to keep in mind if you wanted to leave this place alive in just under a month.

A whole month in this place. The full extent of your situation began to sink in, leaving you with more questions than you had answers for. Was Thresh even willing to put up with for you a month? And what would you do for food or water while you were here? You had no answers, but decided not to press for them until after your skin was no longer stained with your own blood. You had not felt so thoroughly unclean in so long, the desire to be clean again overriding all other desires at the moment.

Thresh led you through the forest until the trees began to thin out, leading to an area of mossy rocks surrounding a large body of clear water. The area was silent, but it was a tranquil silence, the area seeming to radiate a calming energy that helped to soothe your still-frazzled nerves.

“The lake of souls,” Thresh introduced with a sad look in his eyes that confused you. What about this beautiful place made him look so melancholy?

“Is it okay to bathe here?” you asked warily, watching the gentle ripples in the water’s surface. “This place seems too sacred to dirty by bathing in it.”

Thresh shook his head. “This place exists for human souls, therefore it also exists for human souls that are still living as well.”

You were still reluctant, but decided that it was better to give in and bathe here rather than stay filthy for a month. You walked towards the water’s edge, stopping just short of the lake’s gentle waters. You turned your head back, expecting Thresh to have at least turned his back to give you some privacy, but he stood in the same spot, still staring expressionlessly out at the lake.

You were about to call out to him when a sudden noise from the water behind you startled you. You looked back at the water, unsure of what was happening, an odd disturbance in the middle of the lake catching your notice immediately.

What looked like a very small tornado had appeared on the surface of the lake, some sort of a bright light at its center. You stared, puzzled by the strange display before you. You had no frame of reference for any part of this situation; you had been the spirit guardian for only six months, and it was abundantly clear to you how little you knew of the spirits and their world.

You leaned forward, squinting slightly as you tried to figure out what was happening, when suddenly the small tornado turned scarlet red and furious, the inner glow burning red hot. You backed away from the water with a gasp as what sounded like a high-pitched scream rang out across the lake; whipping your hair around with a burst of slightly-too-warm air.

You couldn’t scramble away fast enough, terrified by this strange entity, unsure if its next move would be to charge at you or not. Thresh had said you were safe from azakana while under his protection, but this thing didn’t look like any of the azakana you had seen last night.

“Thresh, what is that?” you asked, voice quiet and frightened.

“A disquieted soul,” came his solemn answer. “It has not accepted its death and is rejecting its new form.”

“What?” you breathed. That sounded awful. How horribly could this person have died to come to the spirit world in such a state? “Can you help him?”

Thresh was silent, eyes unfocused, like he was somewhere else entirely, only snapping out of his thoughts when you called his name again. He turned his back to the lake, the motion making the beads around his neck knock against his chest.

“I can do nothing for him,” he said at last.

“What?” you began, worry bleeding to frustration. “But you’re a spirit. Your job is to guide human souls in the afterlife.”

“…not anymore,” he murmured, chin drooping along with his ears. You couldn’t see his face, but you could imagine his eyebrows sunken in despair just by the tone of his voice.

The soul was still in panic, and you couldn’t just leave them like that, even though Thresh seemed perfectly content to ignore the problem. You had always pictured the spirits as omnipotent beings that cared for human souls, allowing their loved ones to rest knowing they were in a better place in death, but watching the spirit before you dismiss the soul’s pain snapped something within you.

“We bring you offerings in exchange for your protection!” you shouted, watching Thresh’s back tense up in surprise. “Protection in this life and the afterlife. If you let that soul suffer, then you don’t deserve the gifts I’ve brought you!”

He finally turned to face you at last, and now you could see the sorrow in his white eyes. “I am unworthy of my position, I was enlightened of that long ago.”

“Somebody told you that you couldn’t help souls?” you asked.

He answered your question with a single nod of his head. “My involvement will only make things worse.”

You felt bad for him, but didn’t find yourself believing what he did about himself. He didn’t seem inherently bad to you, and with nobody around, even a sorry attempt to help would be better than no attempt at all.

“Please, Thresh,” you implored the spirit, determined to try at least one more time. “That soul is hurting and it needs you. Will you please try to help?”

You could see on his face that he was wavering, but eventually his eyebrows lifted, expression shifting to one of stony determination as he walked past you to the edge of the water. “Very well. I will try.”

“Come to me, my child,” he spoke to the soul, and you were stunned by how his voice filled the area despite being no louder than his normal speaking voice.

Despite being thoroughly devoid of knowledge of the spirit world, you could tell that there was power in his words. Deep inside you, you could feel a pull to obey his words and go to him, but you were easily able to ignore the urge. The soul on the lake, however, clearly could not resist as it began to drift closer to where Thresh stood at the water’s edge. You stayed where you were, transfixed by the scene before you but also unwilling to get closer to the fiery soul tornado that was coming your way.

The soul quickly approached Thresh, only calming when he reached out to take it in hand, the tornado dissipating and leaving behind a ball of now-white light. Now that it wasn’t a whirling tornado of fire, the soul looked rather peaceful. You couldn’t understand Thresh’s reluctance to help; he had calmed the troubled soul with only a touch, so how had he come to believe that he was so incapable of helping souls?

With his other hand, Thresh raised the lantern that was usually attached to his roped belt, the soul gently drifting inside before leaving the lantern as a soft purple wisp. The lantern lit up with a bright glow, and for a moment, you watched Thresh’s appearance flicker back to his more humanlike side, his pale skin and deep purple hair visible for only a short moment before his form returned to its usual demonic appearance.

Thresh stared down at his lantern for a long moment before finally stowing it back on his belt and turning his attention back to you. “The waters are now calm.”

You couldn’t help but wonder why he still looked so sad even after he was able to subdue the restless soul, but quickly pushed your curiosities down inside you; you had already yelled at him, and you didn’t want to push your luck by pressing him with questions and end up having him revoke the protection that he had blessed you with.

You passed the silent spirit with a small nod, waiting until he walked into the trees before you approached the water. You couldn’t see him in the trees and could only hope he hadn’t forgotten about you and left. You hadn’t been around him very long, certainly not long enough to understand him beyond a superficial level.

You removed your shirt first, wincing with disgust as you peeled the fabric off, dried blood having stuck it uncomfortably to your skin. Laying your clothes out next to the water, you were astounded that you had survived that much blood loss. Obviously Thresh had intervened and saved you, but you were surprised you had lived long enough to be saved in the first place. It was only by Thresh’s intervention that you were here in this place as a human and not a ball of light like the soul on the lake, and how had you repaid him? By freaking out on him and then yelling at him. It was a miracle you were still standing after showing such disrespect for a spirit.

You thought a quiet apology as you got into the water, feeling bad that you were dirtying such a sacred place with your blood, at least until you noticed that the red seemed to disappear the second it hit the water. With wide eyes, you tried again, wiping a wet hand across your shoulder and watching as the supernaturally-pure water made the flecks of dried blood disappear, the water once again clean. You let out a relieved sigh as you continued to wash yourself, glad that you didn’t have to worry about sullying the sacred lake with your blood.

You dunked your head under the water, allowing the water to wash away all of the grime that had accumulated in it since you had come to this place. Coming back up for air, you took another look at your shoulder, still not fully able to believe your fatal wound was gone. Running a hand over the spot, you could barely believe it had been run through with an azakana’s horn if you hadn’t watched it happen and felt the horrible pain yourself.

As you thought back to being surrounded by azakana, you suddenly felt all-too-exposed, naked and alone in the wide open area of the lake. Looking around, you didn’t see anything, not even an animal, but you still felt uneasy. Now wanting to be done as soon as possible so you could return to Thresh’s side, you quickly grabbed your clothing from the lakeside, doing your best to get the blood out of the fabric.

Your clothing was soaking wet, but the white fabric was only dyed very lightly red-brown now, which was better than it had been before. There was not much you could do about the large hole in the shoulder of your shirt, but you felt better knowing you wouldn’t be wearing clothing that was half soaked in your own blood.

Walking up to the treeline, you hesitated to enter the trees alone, instead calling out for Thresh at a volume you hoped he would hear, but not anyone or anything else that might be nearby. You were trying not to jump at every little sound, even though you were not fully sure what it was that you were afraid of in the bright light of the early afternoon.

You weren’t left waiting long, as Thresh quickly appeared from behind some trees, his expression neutral. At least he wasn’t looking as sad as he had at the lake, but that didn’t mean that you had any idea about how you were supposed to interact with him after your outburst. That, and you still had no idea what would happen to you for the rest of the month you were stuck here for. You didn’t know if spirits ate or slept, but you wouldn’t survive long without either. Thresh had offered you his protection, but that didn’t mean that he intended to put up with a live human in his space for a full month.

As nervous as you were, you forced yourself to speak up. “I appreciate you bringing me to the lake,” you started, feeling intimidated by Thresh’s lack of expression. “But I was wondering if there was a place here I could stay in for my time here, preferably one with food humans can eat. If you could just point me in the right direction, I won’t impose on you any further.”

The purple spirit’s silver eyebrows drew together in apparent confusion. “You… do not wish to remain with me?”

“Uh…” You hadn’t expected him to look so sad; you would have thought a spirit wouldn’t want to spend a month of their time babysitting a human that was dumb enough to get themselves mauled by an azakana and trapped in the spirit world.

“I understand if it is hard to be around a creature like me,” he spoke, a bittersweet smile on his face. “I will ask another spirit to protect you in my stead. I had not meant to cause you distress with my company.”

The spirit before you seemed so meek, and as he spoke, you realized he also seemed so… lonely. The downward turn of his gaze was enough to propel you forward, one hand on his arm making him look up to you with shock.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought I would be in your way. I would love to stay with you if that is okay.”

You realized that maybe you had laid it on a bit thick as Thresh’s purple cheeks turned bright pink, the pink whites of his eyes turning cyan blue. Panicking, you removed your hand from his arm, hoping it would help him calm down. Was he dying? You hadn’t meant to kill him! You had only been trying to make up for making him so sad, but hadn’t anticipated such an intense reaction from him.

Thresh let out a shaky breath, letting you know that you probably hadn’t killed him. “Your company would be most appreciated, little human. I have been alone for far too long in this place.”

His color gradually returned to normal, which was a relief for you, along with the fact that he looked to be in a much better mood now. You finally felt like you could relax a bit, lips raising in a shy smile; now you just felt embarrassed for overreacting yet again. It was a wonder that Thresh was willing to put up with you.

You followed Thresh back to his temple in silence, but it was a much more comfortable silence. It was a relief to know that you had somewhere to stay for the month, taking one worry away from the pile you had accumulated since coming here.

You followed him out of the forest and across the bridge that led over the river with the unlit lanterns in it. You were content to alternate between looking at the scenery and staring at Thresh’s back, at the still-shining lantern and hook attached to his belt, at least until you re-entered the temple.

The change was immediate; the tattered clothing and bright silver hair shifted, Thresh’s appearance reverting to his humanlike form again. But instead of being nervous, you found yourself thinking about the way his appearance had flickered between forms earlier by the lake, and about what he had told you.

“Thresh?”

The spirit hummed a short reply, turning around to stare at you curiously.

You took in his pale-skinned form, which would have looked deceptively human if not for the elongated ears and horns. “Earlier, at the lake… for a second, you looked like you do now.”

Thresh nodded, the same bittersweet smile from earlier gracing his lips. “You were right, I have not been worthy of the gifts you bring for quite a long time. It is my role here to care for souls, and doing so gives me the power to maintain this form. I have often thought that my hideous form is a fitting punishment for forsaking my duties.”

“You said someone told you that you weren’t capable of helping souls…” He did not deny the statement, so you continued. “But you were able to calm that panicking soul down immediately. I think you’re more capable of helping souls than you think.”

“I did,” he replied after a short silence. “But my past is not so easily forgotten. Come, I will prepare you some tea.”

He turned away, leading you towards the hallway where all the rooms were. It seemed that he intended to avoid the topic, which only made you wonder more why that person had told him that he couldn’t help souls. You had seen him soothe that soul with your own eyes, and you could see no reason anyone would have to take issue with him. But you didn’t want to press him on it further and upset him, so you followed quietly behind him until he stopped at the first door in the hall.

This room looked very similar to the one you had woken up in, the same mountainscape painted on the walls, but the air in this room had a gentle flowery fragrance in the air, likely from the incense that lay on a small white dish in the center of the room. The décor was very simple, with only a small table and some cushions, as well as a small cabinet in the corner.

Thresh approached the cabinet, while you went to take a seat on one of the floor cushions. A small rattle of china brought your attention to Thresh as he approached the table, carrying a tray with a simple deep blue clay teapot and two cups.

Placing the tray down, Thresh looked sheepish. “I apologize for the state of my tea set. I have not had company in several hundred years.”

Just how old was he? You watched as he poured the teapot, surprised when a light green liquid began to pour into the cup. There was no source of water in the room, and you doubted that the tea would last the hundreds of years since he had said he last had company, so it was likely supernatural in nature. You really hoped that eventually you would stop being surprised by every little thing in this place, but it was hard when everything here was just so different to the simple world you lived in.

You waited for him to pour his own tea before taking a sip of yours, a gentle, sweet taste settling on your tongue. The tea was unlike any you had tasted before, like it was flavored with some berry that grew only in the spirit world. Finding you were quite thirsty, your tea quickly disappeared, and you were soon left with nothing but an empty cup.

“Did you enjoy it?” Thresh asked quite eagerly, his own tea yet untouched.

“Yes, it’s lovely!” you answered, caught off guard by his sudden energy.

“I am glad,” he spoke with a soft smile, the sight making your heart skip a beat in your chest. He finally brought his cup to his lips and took a sip, letting out a pleased hum. “It has been too long since I last tasted this.”

“You can’t drink it when you’re alone?” you asked, setting your cup down.

“I can,” he answered. “But spirits do not need to eat or drink, so I only partake when I have company. Drinking this tea alone only reminds me of my solitude, which spoils the flavor.”

You bit your lip as you pondered what to reply. He seemed so casual about his loneliness, like it was something he had long since accepted as fact. You had always thought of the spirits as faceless, omnipotent beings that were so far above humans that they weren’t even comparable. Seeing him now, you did not see the faceless deity you had brought presents to, nor the terrifying spirit that had initially greeted you in front of the temple, but instead a being not so different from yourself.

You understood his feelings well, especially as of late. Your grandmother was the last person you had that you had really felt close to, and you had barely begun your spirit guardian training when she had suddenly died, throwing you into your role before you were ready. The people in town would speak to you, but there were none that you could really connect with, and you knew that they often kept you at arm’s length. Your connection to the spirits was a curse as much as it was a blessing; you had heard whispers around you before suggesting that displeasing you would bring the ire of the spirits upon oneself, as if you were some vengeful warden intent on using the spirits for your own benefit. Just thinking about it made your chest ache with that same loneliness that was in Thresh’s eyes.

Thresh had only simple food on hand, which was fine with you. Food to eat and a bed to sleep in were more than you could have hoped for, but Thresh seemed happy to play host to you.

You weren’t content to just sit around and be catered to by someone who had saved your life and gotten nothing in return. After you ate, you had gotten to work after finding a broom and some cloths, intent on paying Thresh back for his kindness.

“You are not my servant,” Thresh insisted with a pout from twenty feet away from you.

At first, he had tried to stop you from cleaning his floors, which you had refused, determined to do something for him. Then he had tried to help, but the first swipe of dust from the floor had sent him into such a wild sneezing fit that you had to banish him to the other side of the room, where he was currently trying to protest your cleaning spree from. He had started his fretting only after his sneezes had finally stopped, all while you tried not to giggle at how cute his sneezes were.

“You’re giving me food and a bed,” you replied. “This is the least I can do. And besides, you start sneezing if you even <i>see</i> dust.”

Thresh’s cheeks flushed pink. “I am truly ashamed at how long I have left my temple like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him, which turned his ears pink as well as his cheeks, but at least he had finally stopped protesting your cleaning of his temple. He still seemed intent to stay close to you, minus the dust-guarding distance. It was a little silly, but you didn’t mind the company while you worked.

Dinnertime came fairly quickly, the entryway completely spotless when Thresh finally convinced you to stop and eat. He sat across from you at the small table, drinking that same tea as you ate your meal.

“I’m afraid I do not have much food on hand,” Thresh admitted with a frown. “I will have to go fetch more supplies in a few days.”

You nodded, swallowing a bite of rice. “How long will you be gone for?”

“No more than a few hours,” he answered. “The trading post is not too far from here.”

“You have a trading post here?” you asked curiously.

“We do,” he replied simply. “It is where I get this tea from. But I have not gone in a long while. I have not had reason to go until now.”

His words made you worry that you were making him go out of his way, but the small smile on his face helped to relax you. He was a kind spirit, and you didn’t want to annoy him by constantly apologizing for inconveniencing him, so you would allow yourself to accept his kindness for now.

It turned out that Thresh’s bedroom just a few doors down from yours, which came as a great relief to you. You knew that you had his protection, the mark on your hand was enough of a reminder of that, but you were having a hard time fully ridding yourself of your fears, especially alone in your futon late at night.

This bed was not so different than your own one at home, but at the same time, everything felt so different. Even the air here was different; it somehow felt more pure here, and you supposed it made sense. This was a place free of the contamination of your world, as the only people here were the souls of the dead, and you doubted they had any need to breathe anymore.

You eventually fell asleep thinking of your grandmother, of the egg pudding she used to make the morning after she returned from doing her rounds as spirit guardian. You could only wonder what she would have thought of your failure only six months after taking up the post she had held for over fifty years. As you drifted off, you apologized to her in your mind for letting her down.

 As you walked into the entry room a few days later, you found Thresh getting ready to leave, a simple purple bag slung over one shoulder. The bag itself looked like it would hold up, but it was clearly well-used, and could use a good stitching in some parts. You made a mental note to offer to fix it up for him when he came back.

Thresh noticed you immediately, his fingers releasing the bag as he turned to fully face you.

“Have a safe trip,” you said. “I’ll do some more cleaning while you’re gone.”

“You do not have to,” he grumbled, before thinking better of it with a shake of his head. “I will return no later than this evening.”

“Got it,” you replied. You could find something to occupy you until then. It wasn’t like you were going to complain about being lonely when he was only making this trip for your benefit in the first place.

Thresh’s smile quickly faded, face and voice becoming more serious. “While I am gone, do not leave this temple. My protection can only keep you safe from azakana if you are by my side or within my temple. I could not bear it if anything happened to you while I was away, I implore you–”

There were the droopy sad ears again. It would be cute if he didn’t look so upset.

“I won’t leave,” you promised. “I’m not eager to meet any more azakana anyways.”

“But…” He seemed reluctant to leave you. He was even more concerned for you than you were yourself. You had never pictured a spirit to be such a worrier.

“I’ll be fine,” you spoke gently. “You should go now, or you’ll be late getting back and I might be so bored by then that I wander into the forest looking for dirt to sweep up.”

You had meant it to be a joke, but by the alarm in Thresh’s widened eyes, your joking tone hadn’t quite been understood by the highly-stung spirit. Regardless, your words propelled him into action at last as he made his way towards the front door, sliding it open.

As he crossed the threshold, you watched his deep purple hair turn silver again, his demonic form returning as he left the power of his temple. He turned back to face you, still looking vaguely like a kicked puppy.

“I’ll be here when you return,” you insisted. “Now go.”

He nodded once. “You will be… here. It is a strange feeling to have someone waiting for me to return. Strange, but not unpleasant.”

You smiled, giving him a short wave. Thresh returned your smile with his sharp teeth, reaching into a pocket to bring out the face plate of his golden mask and affixing it to his face. His expressive eyes now hidden from your view, Thresh finally turned to head towards the bridge that would take him into the forest.

You watched him go until his tall form was swallowed by the vibrant purple trees, slowly sliding the door closed when you lost all sight of him. You stared at the closed door for a moment before forcing yourself to snap out of it. Thresh was a being of this world, the creatures here did not present the same danger to him as they did to you. He would be fine. And moreover, you had some cleaning to do; hopefully it would tire you out enough for you to keep your mind off of Thresh.

Your own room was fairly empty, and you didn’t want to go into Thresh’s room while he wasn’t there, so for now that left the room where you had drank tea together.

The table was easy enough to clean, and you found yourself tracing a finger over a groove that ran along the length of the small table. Could he have gotten this from the trading post? Or was it just here, like his temple was? You felt like you could ask every question on your mind and still be no closer to understanding how this world worked.

The time passed quickly at first, but began to slow down rapidly after the first hour or two. You only realized how bad it was when you looked down at the cup you were polishing, only to realize it was the same one you had polished an hour ago. Maybe there were less things to occupy your attention here than you had thought.

Maybe a change of pace would help ease away the boredom you were trying to ignore. Getting to your feet, you returned the cleaning items to the cupboard in the entryway, letting out a sigh as you looked over the room.

You were distracted from your moping by a barely-audible noise coming from the direction of the front door. Taking a step toward the door, you heard it again, slightly louder this time. It sounded like something was scratching against the door, but it seemed to be something small.

You were debating what to do when the door was scratched against once more, followed by a low whine that sounded vaguely pained. Thresh had said not to leave the temple, but surely just opening the door would be okay? The creature outside whined once more, and your decision was made. You couldn’t just leave an injured animal outside, especially if it had also been attacked by an azakana like you had been. You would open the door, bring it in, and then close it back up. The plan was nice and simple, which was why it went awry almost immediately.

Sliding the door halfway open, you peeked out, seeing nothing. Perplexed, you wondered if you had been so bored that you were hearing things. It could be possible, but really, anything was possible in this place.

A high-pitched bark had you reconsidering your hallucination theory, looking ahead to see a white fox standing ten or so feet in front of you, staring right at you with supernaturally blue eyes.

As you stared at it, you realized that it looked familiar. Its vibrant teal tail, the bells on a magenta cord tied around its neck… was this the same fox you had seen that night on your walk? The same one that had caught you staring at it when Thresh took you to the lake?

But what was it doing here? Why would a fox go to so much trouble just to get the attention of one lone human?

The fox chirped, ensuring it had your attention before it dashed around the side of Thresh’s temple, disappearing from view. What was it doing? You stared in the direction it had vanished, confused, when another chirp rang out from the side of the temple. The fox would not stop talking at you, which began to make you think… did it want you to follow it?

You were wary, remembering Thresh’s warning, but his temple’s protection should include the temple land as well, wouldn’t it? He hadn’t specified, but the land had to count as well, didn’t it? And the fox was clearly not an azakana, at least it didn’t look like the ones you had seen that night. You didn’t stop to think about it any further, dismissing it as likely alright as you slid the door closed behind you.

“Hello?” you called out as you walked towards the side of the building. “Are you okay, little guy?”

Turning the corner, you expected to see the fox nursing an injury, but found yourself instead face to face with a striking woman in a short kimono.

You jumped back, catching yourself before you could fall down, staring wide-eyed at the magenta-haired woman. She tilted her head slightly as she appraised you, which drew your attention to the large pair of animal-like… <i>fox-like</i>… ears atop her head, which then focussed your attention to the mass of tails that flared out behind her.

“You took long enough,” she said, but her voice didn’t sound angry. “Now, we have to go. I don’t know how long we have until he comes back.”

“He…?” you pondered out loud as the words began to sink in. “Wait, I can’t! Thresh said his protection only works if I stay here!”

“You–” She started, but then cut herself off. “His… protection?”

You brought a hand up to your chest, taking a step back from the strange woman. “I… he…”

The woman moved towards you so fast that you were almost unable to see the movement, snatching your hand and bringing it towards her. You tried to tug your hand back, but her grip was iron as she leaned down to stare closely at your hand. You stared down at her, unease crawling along your skin, when you noticed that it was the hand that bore Thresh’s mark under her grip.

“He gave you… his mark,” she said, voice heavy with confusion. She released your hand at last, and you quickly brought it back to your side, still unsure of what to make of this weirdly intense fox girl.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying to estimate your chances of making it back inside before she caught up to you if it turned out that she was here to do you harm. “And why are you here?”

She smiled, and her tails seemed to fluff up behind her like a peacock. “My name is Ahri, and I came here to rescue you from Thresh.”

“From Thresh?” you echoed. Did she know something you didn’t?

“Yes,” she confirmed, sounding unsure herself. “I thought with his history, he may be keeping you here against your will, but…”

“No!” you denied, finding yourself flush with the need to deny her assumption. “I fell off the path and got attacked by an azakana. Thresh saved me and brought me here. He told me this mark would keep me safe until the month is up and I can go home.”

Ahri looked stunned, an expression you assumed she didn’t wear often. Her bright blue eyes looked from your hand that bore the purple demon mask up to your eyes before letting out a sigh. “…I didn’t expect to hear a human defending Thresh.”

What did she mean? Wait, she had mentioned history…

“Are you the one who told him he couldn’t help souls?” you accused quietly, even as your chest trembled at the idea of speaking to a spirit like this. But you had to know what she knew, had to know what had made her decide that Thresh was unworthy of the job you had seen him do perfectly with your own eyes.

“I have known Thresh for a long time,” she began wistfully. “Much longer than your people have been bringing us gifts for. We used to comfort human souls together back then.”

She looked so sad, just like Thresh had that day at the lake.

“But his care for the souls went too far. He began to see them not as mortal souls needing his guidance, but as his own children. He kept them with him, preventing them from experiencing what their souls need to learn in this world. We are here to help human souls, not cage them, and he forgot that,” she explained.

You almost felt tears come to your eyes at her words. It was clear the experience had scarred her as well.

She gave you a sad smile. “I’m relieved that he hasn’t harmed you, but you must come with me. There’s no telling how soon it will be before Thresh falls back to his old ways again.”

She didn’t seem like she was lying, but you still felt like you were being torn in two. Thresh’s face appeared in your mind, the sad expression when he talked about his past the only thing you could think about.

“…I can’t.”

“You can’t?” Ahri sounded incredulous.

“I watched him help a soul,” you said, voice unsteady. “He only did it because I told him he didn’t deserve my gifts if he didn’t. But he calmed it down so easily!”

This time Ahri stayed silent, and you took that as your approval to keep talking. “I think he regrets what he did back then. I don’t think he would hurt me, and I can’t just leave him when he still looks so sad.”

Ahri’s gaze was hard as she silently considered you. The seconds dragged on as you nervously met eyes with her, afraid you had gotten on her bad side. Thresh hadn’t flexed his authority as a spirit over you, but that didn’t mean that Ahri wouldn’t. The longer the silence stretched on, the less sure you were of anything; you weren’t sure whether to be relieved or not when she finally spoke up.

“Then… can I ask you to help him?”

“What?” you breathed.

Ahri let out an amused huff at your reaction. “You have more power than you may think. Thousands of years have passed and this is the first time Thresh has willingly left his isolation to help anyone. You may be the key to restoring his faith in himself.”

“But how could I…”

“Talk to him,” Ahri instructed. “Show him that he doesn’t need to confine souls to his side when he has others who care about him. Threaten to withhold his offerings again if you have to.”

Her grin told you she was largely joking about that last one, but that reminded you about something that had slipped your mind over the past few days.

“The gifts…!” you gasped.

Ahri grinned, showing off her sharp canines. “Already taken care of. I found your basket and brought the rest of the presents to the other spirits. I especially liked my new comb.”

You were momentarily stunned, but snapped out of it and bowed your head low. “Thank you! I don’t know what my village would have done if…”

“Raise your head,” Ahri commanded, and you stood up straight again. “I would not allow our deal to be revoked because you were attacked by azakana and unable to finish your route.”

“Still, I appreciate it,” you insisted. “I don’t want to upset spirits who got no gift while others did.”

“I’ve always watched the spirit guardians on their walks,” Ahri said. “This deal is important to us as well. The gifts you bring give us a connection to your world, and brighten our days. I have watched spirit guardians come and go, but I have never seen the spirits as happy as when they receive your gifts. Even Yone has not stopped playing the flute you gave him.”

Yone? So that was the name of the finicky spirit of the twin-bladed temple. It was a relief to know that the gift you had especially agonized over was received well.

“I did try to save you myself, but Thresh got to you first,” Ahri admitted. “With how isolated he’s been for so long, I feared what he would do with you. You are too important to us to allow anything to happen to you before it is your time.”

“Ahri…” You weren’t sure what to say. You had never thought that you would come to mean anything to the spirits here, at least not any more than anyone else who had done the job before you. You were so used to being tolerated that being appreciated felt like a foreign concept.

Ahri let out a contemplative hum. “I want to believe that you can bring Thresh back to who he used to be, but I can’t trust him just yet.”

She reached a hand up, gently removing one of the gold bells that hung on one of her hair accessories, holding the egg-sized bell out to you in her palm.

“If you need my help, just ring that bell and I’ll come,” she explained. “I will respect your wish to stay here with him, but I won’t have you here without help if you need it.”

“Thank you,” you replied nervously, reaching forward to take the bell from her palm.

“I’ll look forward to two gifts next time in return for all my hard work,” she teased, before her smile dropped in favor of a more serious look. “Just remember to be ready to get on the path when the door to your world opens again. Thresh’s protection will only last until the portal to your home is open.”

“I’ll be ready,” you promised her, even if it still felt like forever before you would be able to return to your life as it normally was.

Ahri smiled, the action lifting the pink stripes on her cheeks. “I think you can finally bring him back to us. Every spirit here will owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Not more than I owe Thresh for saving my life,” you admitted honestly. “I’m beginning to think that the spirits have more regard for me than my own people do.”

You weren’t sure why you were being so open with someone you barely knew, much less a spirit, but deep down you suspected it was because Ahri felt like the closest thing to a female friend that you had ever had, as sad as that was to admit to yourself. For her part, Ahri didn’t seem to mind your oversharing, her smile unchanging.

“I will have to ask one more favor of you,” she said, bringing a finger up to her lips. “Don’t tell Thresh I was here. I don’t want him to be distracted by our past, so it’s better he doesn’t know that I came to talk to his little human guest.”

You weren’t so sure that hiding herself from Thresh would benefit him, but you agreed. It seemed to you that both of them cared for each other, but neither one seemed willing to make the first move. Thresh was too buried in his self-loathing, and Ahri seemed to think him seeing her again would be too painful for him. You didn’t know the full extent of their past, but it seemed to you that Thresh would benefit from knowing that other spirits cared about him. But at the same time, you had to respect Ahri’s wishes.

“…if he wanted to talk to you, would you see him?” you asked quietly.

Her blue eyes looked sad. “Of course I would, but I know he won’t want to see my face after all that’s happened between us.”

“Ahri…”

Her ears suddenly perked up and she glanced back over her shoulder quickly. “I can sense him coming back. I have to go.”

She brushed past you before turning back one more time. “I hope you can do what I couldn’t and get through to him. Remember that you hold more power than you think.”

She flashed one last smile before her form changed with a cloud of blue fire, leaving the fox with the teal tail in her place. With a farewell bark, she darted off behind the temple.

When her tail finally vanished from sight, you turned back to face the purple woods ahead of you. If what Ahri said was right, then Thresh would be coming back soon, and he would be expecting to find you inside the temple. You didn’t want to worry him, so you quickly retreated inside, closing the door behind you.

You had picked up the broom for an excuse, but had been so nervous that you had been zoning out staring at it when the front door slid open and your name was called.

You knew that he was coming back, but you were still startled when you looked up to see Thresh standing just inside the doorway, looking concerned. You straightened up, probably too straight, the broom falling from your grasp and hitting the floor with a loud thump.

How were you supposed to act now? You had hardly had any time to process what Ahri had told you, and now Thresh was here, unaware of what had transpired in the last ten minutes.

“Welcome back,” you greeted him, reaching down to pick up the fallen broom.

You looked back up at him, nervous that he would see right through you, but to your surprise, he didn’t ask questions, but instead approached you with a soft smile on his face.

“I am relieved to see you safe,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “You worry too much. You were only gone a few hours.”

He looked like he might continue to fret, so you changed the subject for both of your sakes. “How was the trading post?”

“It was… lively,” he answered. “I hope you did not overwork yourself cleaning my temple.”

“I didn’t do too much,” you answered, allowing yourself to relax at last; Thresh seemed the same as when he had left earlier. You shook your head, mentally scolding yourself; of course he was acting normal, he wasn’t the one struggling with the new information that you were.

What Ahri told you did make sense; you had realized pretty early on that Thresh was a lonesome spirit. Hearing that he had kept souls with him instead of letting them go on their soul’s journey had not fully surprised you, but you also hadn’t found yourself as scared as Ahri seemed to think you should be.

You only had a month in this place, was that really long enough to heal all of the pain that Thresh had collected in his heart over a lifetime? Ahri had too much faith in you, you were sure of that, but at the same time, you had meant what you had said; you didn’t want to just abandon him. He was no danger to you, this spirit that would sneeze if he even <i>saw</i> dust and was clearly more nervous around you than you were around him.

You had zoned out again, coming back to see Thresh before you, eyebrows drawn downwards in concern.

“Are you ill?” he asked, placing his ungloved hand against your forehead. “If you require–”

“I’m fine!” you insisted, backing away from his touch, his eyes widening in surprise at your reaction.

He looked a little hurt, which made you feel bad, but before you could apologize, he had moved away from you. You watched as he reached into his satchel, pulling out a small cloth package.

“I have procured you a gift. Hopefully it will help lift your spirits.”

You accepted the package, lifting the cloth folds to find four soft white balls, the sight something you hadn’t seen since your grandmother was alive. “Daifuku…”

“I have been told that they make these at human festivals,” Thresh said. “I was told these ones have strawberries inside.”

…just how your grandmother used to make them. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until the first tear fell from your chin, dripping onto the cloth in your hands. You blinked, realizing that your eyes were wet. You had really thought you had finally got over the loss of your grandmother, but seeing the strawberry daifuku, clearly wrapped and prepared with such care, brought your emotions back to where you had been that day six months ago when you had gotten the news.

Your tears had immediately frazzled Thresh, whose eyes went impossibly wide. “Are you… I should not have…”

You brought a hand up to wipe your tears away with your sleeve, sniffling maybe slightly too loudly in your efforts to rein in your sudden burst of emotion.

“It’s not your fault!” you cried out, startling both of you with your sudden volume. “It’s just… my grandmother used to make strawberry daifuku for me before she died. She was… she was the spirit guardian before me.”

Thresh quietly took in the information, staring hesitantly at you. “So you are not displeased?”

You took a further few seconds to compose yourself before replying. “No, I’m not displeased. It’s just been a lonely six months since she died, and she always made these to cheer me up when I was upset.”

“You are lonely?” Thresh inquired. “I have heard your village is quite a populated one.”

You bit your lip, his words bringing back every bad memory you had of your life growing up as the granddaughter of the spirit guardian, next in line for the position yourself. The pain of their treatment felt ten times worse now that your grandmother was not there to share the burden of social isolation with you.

You let out a sad sigh. “Could we have some tea?”

Thresh readily agreed, and soon you sat across from each other at that small table, a cup of tea in front of you, the daifuku placed in the middle of the table, yet untouched.

“I only really spent time with my grandma. The other villagers tolerate us for what we do for them, but they don’t like us. Unless they’re forced to speak to me, they just avoid me.”

“I do not understand why,” Thresh retorted, purple eyes dark with anger. “You have been here so little time, but you are already so dear to me. Your people are ignorant.”

“They’re scared,” you corrected. “They think that I hold some influence over the spirits just because I bring you gifts. They think that if they make me mad, I’ll tell you to burn their homes down or something. I’ve overheard mothers telling their children not to make eye contact with me. Even if I did have the power to make spirits do what I want, I would never use it, but it’s not like any of them would believe me if I told them that.”

Thresh’s angry look had softened into one of sadness, pity clear in his eyes. The look made you uncomfortable, not used to being looked at like that by anybody. Your grandmother had been the only person who ever listened to your worries, and now she was gone to a place far beyond your reach.

“They’ve probably noticed I’m gone by now. I assume they’re more worried about finding my replacement than my likely death,” you mused sadly. “Thanks for listening, Thresh. It’s been a long time since I had someone to talk to.”

“I know what it is like to be so… alone,” Thresh spoke softly, nail tracing along the side of his still-full teacup. “The souls are… <i>were</i> my companions. They gave me power, and they kept me company.”

You said nothing, Ahri’s words from earlier echoing in your head as you gazed at the forlorn spirit before you.

“But they were not mine to keep,” he continued. “They were by my side at the expense of their soul’s path. The loneliness I suffer is my punishment for falling to such ignoble behavior.”

“Thresh…”

“But you have done nothing to deserve to be shunned by your world,” he growled. “I do not deserve the offerings you bring, but they are unworthy of the protection this world lends them.”

“I’ve never thought about it like that before,” you admitted. “But I don’t want them to be subjected to the mountain’s dangers just because they don’t like me. And without this job, I would have nothing. I feel like it’s my last tie to my grandmother, doing what she did for so long.”

You had been staring down at the table, but looked up as Thresh’s arm came in your peripheral vision. You watched as he gently picked up a soft daifuku, setting it down in front of you. Your gaze shot up, meeting his startlingly intense violet eyes.

“You have not lost your ties to her. Souls do not cease to be when they die. When I touch a soul, I can see how they came to this place, what is most important to them. I did not encounter the soul of your grandmother, but I am sure that if I did, I would be shown your face. Your memories with her are your connection to her soul.”

You pulled back from the table, not wanting your tears to fall in your likely-lukewarm tea. His words had a strange way of seeping into your skin, your loneliness feeling less heavy on your chest as you took in his words.

It was hard not to feel alone in your empty house, in a village that feared and hated you. But here you were, with someone alike in your pain, even if your lives could not have been more different. Here you were, sharing tea and daifuku like you had done so many times with your grandmother. The memories of her didn’t have to be a burden; they could be your strength.

Thresh must think you were a bad representation of your species, crying your heart out in front of him like a baby. But when you wiped your tears and gathered up the courage to look at his face, you found it surprisingly neutral, watching you like he was hesitant to say any more.

You picked up the daifuku, taking a bite and savoring its gentle sweetness on your tongue. The taste swept you up, and soon you had finished the whole thing. Realizing you still had company, as silent as he was right now, you swallowed the last bit of daifuku before setting your palms on the table.

“Thank you,” you said. “For the daifuku, and for what you said. I don’t think I’ve felt this content in a long time.”

Your tears hadn’t fully stopped, and that combined with your smile seemed to be confusing the spirit before you, but he nodded in response, a small smile gracing his lips. “I am glad I could help ease your burden, little human.”

“Are you going to eat one?” you asked, gesturing to the daifuku.

Thresh reached forward, taking a daifuku in hand and bringing it up to his mouth, staring at it in wonder.

“Have you not had daifuku before?” you asked curiously as you reached for another one yourself.

“I do not partake in food often,” Thresh admitted. “The shopkeeper told me that this was a food humans liked to eat.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness; it was a nice feeling to know that he had taken such care in selecting something for you that he thought you would like. Combined with the slight flush to his cheeks and his shy smile, you almost couldn’t believe he was one of the spirits you had held in awed regard for so long. He had no reason to go so out of his way to bring you a comfort from home, but in doing so, he had shown more consideration for you than anyone in your village ever had.

You would repay him for his kindness; if he could pull you out of your misery, then you would do whatever you could to do the same for him. And you only had a month here to convince him of his worth, so you would have to start soon. That night, you went to bed with hope in your heart, hope that you and Thresh were both worthy of more.

 You sat up, your bare legs being tickled by the grass you laid on. Looking around, you found yourself in a glade, surrounded by dark, gnarled trees that grew so far overhead that they blocked the sky entirely. You didn’t know what time it was, or where you were, or how you had gotten here.

You jolted forward at the sensation of something brushing against your back, a chill running up your spine at the sudden contact. You turned your head back to look, but saw nothing but the dark forest that surrounded you. A loud snarl rang out in the quiet forest, startling you and sending you curling in on yourself in fear. What was happening around you?

“I cannot see you,” came a dark growl, followed by a face appearing out of the darkness mere inches from your own.

You scrambled back with a scream, staring in terror at the large creature before you that you were horrified to realize that you recognized.

“I cannot hear you,” the demon-faced worm continued, its long body twisting around just above you. “But I can <i>smell</i> you.”

You pressed yourself back into the grass, desperate for this <i>thing</i> to not touch you in its circling in the air. There was no mistaking this demon for anything but the one that had attacked you that night in the forest. The realization brought a phantom pain to your shoulder, your memories returning to you in full.

How did you get to this place? You had been safe. Thresh told you that you were safe. Your only relief was that the demon didn’t seem to be able to see or hear you.

“I can smell your fear,” it purred sinisterly. “But it is your flesh I want. I was so close, and then your delicious fear would have been all mine.”

There was nowhere to run. The trees blocked you in, and even if there was a gap in the branches to run to, you were too scared to move and break whatever spell kept the azakana from seeing you.

“I can still taste your blood,” the azakana snarled, its wormlike body thrashing violently above you. “And I will taste it again. You cannot hide from my eyes forever, and then you will be mine to savor, to break into a thousand pieces before I devour your weak body. You will never escape your fate.”

A flash of light crashed above you and you closed your eyes, raising your arms up to shield your face. It felt like the bright light was about to be upon you, but then it all faded to black.

You sat up in bed with a gasp, breathing heavily. Looking around the familiar room, your heartbeat began to slow as you realized that it had just been an awful dream. It had felt so real; that azakana’s horrible raspy growls right next to your ear that had spoken of promises of not being done with you yet sending chills up your arms even if the safety of your room.

Immediately, you wanted to tell Thresh what had happened, but quickly reconsidered. It had been horrible, but it was just a dream. Thresh was a worrier, and you didn’t want to trouble him with something as silly as a bad dream, not when he had so much of his own problems to worry about.

Letting out a sigh, you laid back down on your side in your futon. You stared at the mountainscape painting on the wall, letting the still image relax you and bring you back to reality. You knew it was still too early to get up, so you would have to try to get back to sleep, as daunting of a task as that seemed right now. Closing your eyes, you could only hope that your impending sleep would be dreamless.

 You woke up slowly, unable to remember if you had dreamed or not, which was a vast improvement on your earlier nightmare. Feeling fully rested, you only felt more confident in your decision to keep this to yourself. Thresh had more important things to worry about than a human having a bad dream, and you supposed that today was as good a day as any to start working on that promise you had made Ahri to restore Thresh’s confidence in himself.

You began to brainstorm ideas as you did a sweep of the entry room. Since you had begun cleaning, the temple didn’t have much dirt to sweep up, but the action helped you focus on how you would get Thresh to begin helping souls again.

You doubted he would agree just because you asked him; while he had done it for that soul in turmoil, the emotional aftermath was something you thought it would be better to avoid if you wanted to make progress. But what else did that leave?

Starting slow seemed like your best bet, but how would you get him out of the temple? Stuck in here, he would likely not get any better, considering how much of a hermit he had been for so long. Setting the broom against the wall, you finally had an idea settle in your mind, as sneaky as it may be.

 “The lake of souls?” Thresh echoed, caught off guard.

You had ambushed him the moment he had come into the room, startling him with your sudden request.

“I like to bathe every day if I can,” you spoke, doing your best to sound casual so he wouldn’t suspect anything. “Would it be okay if we went back today?”

Thresh stared down at you, blinking tiredly. He tended to be sleepier in the mornings, which you were hoping would aide you in your plan. As you waited for him to reply, you took in his messy bangs and rumpled collar. You found yourself constantly surprised by how cute he was; such a difference from your initial impression.

Eventually, the half-awake spirit relented with a slow nod. “I can take you there now.”

“How about some tea first?” you suggested. “I don’t want you to doze off and fall into the lake.”

Recalling the fact that you had caught him sleeping standing up two mornings ago, Thresh agreed. “…that may be wise.”

He allowed you to force some morning tea on him, and was considerably more awake when you both set out. As you followed him down the forest path, you began to appreciate his demonic form as well, the purple of his skin contrasting beautifully with the violet of the trees all around you.

You would have to start slow, but you were already running into problems. What would be a happy medium between doing nothing and pushing him at a soul and telling him to deal with it? You knew that getting him to talk to Ahri would likely be good for both of them, but that would probably require a lot of convincing both of them to agree. Ahri didn’t seem confident that Thresh could change so easily, so you would have to show her that he was worth redemption before you got her to meet him again.

You had been probably too deep in your thoughts, so deep that you hadn’t noticed that you had arrived at the lake until Thresh was in front of you, leaning towards your face with a worried expression.

You quickly stepped back, embarrassed by both his sudden closeness and your own lack of paying attention to your surroundings. Giving yourself a moment to calm down, you looked from Thresh to the waters behind him, just as beautiful as they had been yesterday. The sight focussed you; you couldn’t let this chance go to waste, even as uncertain as you felt.

“Um, Thresh…?” you spoke up, nerves doubling when he looked at you curiously with his white eyes. “How often do souls appear here?”

Thresh turned to look out at the water as he considered your question. “It is more frequent at times of strife and war in your world, but otherwise it remains steady. Although the flow of death may have changed in my absence of duties.”

“Do you want to try again?” you asked carefully. “Like the last time we were here?”

“I…” He sounded conflicted, posture too stiff. “If I repeat the same mistakes–”

You stayed silent until he finally looked back at you, finding yourself shocked by the tears pooling unshed in his eyes. “How can I know that I will not give into my cursed loneliness again? If I were to accept my role and then fail again… I am afraid I will not survive another fall.”

Thresh let out a low exhale, closing his eyes for a short moment before reopening them, his eyes no longer watery, but expression still plainly sad.

“I know it’s not much, but I’m here now,” you offered. “So you won’t be lonely while I’m here with you.”

Thresh looked surprised, his eyebrows raising as he stared at you in disbelief. But you could still see the reluctance on his face; as much as you wanted to help him, it would be hard to fix so many lifetimes full of trauma. Just when you were ready to hear his rejection again, an idea came to you, and you couldn’t help but cut off Thresh’s about-to-be-spoken words in your excitement.

“One soul a day!” you exclaimed as soon as the idea hit you.

“You…”  Thresh seemed confused, which was fair considering you had just shouted words in his face with no context.

“One soul a day,” you repeated, holding up one finger before him. “What if you help one soul every day? I’ll be here to keep you from getting lonely, and if it’s too difficult, you can stop, but just try one a day… please?”

“One soul a day,” he muttered to himself, running one hand up his other arm as if trying to stave off a chill.

“I’m right here,” you insisted. “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

You could see the hope in his face. You could see how close he was to agreeing, but he was still holding himself back. Why was he still resisting?

“Please, Thresh,” you appealed to him one more time, unable to keep the emotions you were feeling out of your voice. “You can really help these souls. If it were me… if it was my grandmother’s soul, I would feel better knowing someone like you was here to greet her when she came here.”

“If it were you…” he considered with a soft sigh. “I suppose I cannot abandon these souls if they have left someone like you behind.”

“Thank you!” you cried out in relief, surging forward to wrap your arms around him in a hug.

Feeling him stiffen immediately, you pulled back as you realized what it was you had just done. You had been so overjoyed that it had overwhelmed you, or at least that was the only reasoning you could come up with.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–”

“No, you have done nothing to offend me,” Thresh denied awkwardly, skin noticeably pink even as his lips formed a small, shy smile. “I did not mind your contact at all.”

You felt your own face warm as you stared at Thresh’s happy blushing face, a realization crashing onto you. Nobody your age in your village really talked to you, but you had taken notice of boys your age, wishing they would talk to you while knowing that they never would. But staring at Thresh now…

“…actually, I rather enjoyed your embrace,” he admitted, shocking you with his openness.

You quickly looked down, nails biting into your palms at your sides. This was more than you had ever felt for any cute boy you had admired from afar in your village, more than any emotions you had felt when reading romantic stories in books your grandmother had bought you. This spirit in front of you who did not rebuff your contact, but instead seemed to welcome it had developed a closer place in your heart than any of the people in the village that your duties protected, and you didn’t know what to do now that you realized how your feelings were changing.

You were too scared to confront the feelings inside you, so you opted for the easy way out. “So when do you think a soul will appear?”

 Thresh had handled the soul perfectly that day, if not slightly more nervously than the first time you had seen him do it. You had stood by his side as he had called the soul to him, taking it into his lantern and then releasing it. You could tell he had hesitated when letting the spirit go, but he had done it without complaint, even though you knew his mind was likely on his past as he did so.

You had been surprised to return to Thresh’s temple that day to see that one of the lanterns that floated in the river around the temple was now lit with a bright purple light. You hadn’t been the only one who was surprised; Thresh had stared openly in awe of the lit lantern, something he then told you he had not seen in hundreds of years.

You began to notice a pattern. Every day when you returned from the lake, a new lantern had lit up. The lights were exciting to look at in the daytime, but were downright mesmerizing at night, vibrant purple light drifting gently on the water. As the days passed and more lanterns came alight, you and Thresh began to take your evening tea outside.

“It’s so beautiful,” you said after taking a sip of your tea. “We don’t have anything like this in my village. Not unless you believe the rumors about what it looks like at the top of Mount Targon.”

“I have grown so used to this sight that it becomes hard to appreciate it,” Thresh mused. “But sitting here with you, it feels like I am seeing this world anew.”

“I felt the same way after I nearly died,” you replied. “This world has always amazed me, but after you saved me, I’ve gotten to see so many new sides of this place. You would think it would scare me to be here after I was attacked, but I don’t feel scared at all.”

“…not even of me?” Thresh asked quietly. “Nobody would blame you would fleeing at the first chance you got from a fiend like I. I admit I was pleasantly surprised to return from the trading post to find you still here.”

You turned from the lanterns to face Thresh, his expression neutral, but eyes wavering like he was anticipating a rejection.

“How could I be scared of you?” you countered. “You’ve been kinder to me than anyone. And you’re not really scary, not unless you have your gold mask on.”

“…oh,” was Thresh’s muted response.

You couldn’t help a quiet laugh. He was so hard on himself. It was no wonder it was like pulling teeth to get him to agree to your one-soul-a-day plan. He had been alone for so long, with not even himself to believe in him.

You knew that you were maybe putting yourself too out there as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have survived here without you. And I don’t just mean you rescuing me. Your company has been the biggest blessing I’ve received in a long time, Thresh.”

He didn’t respond, so you made to move your head from his shoulder to look at his face, but were stopped by a gentle hand on the back of your head.

“Could I ask you to stay like this, little human? Just for a bit longer?”

You hummed quietly, leaning into his side as his hand instead began to gently run over your hair, the glow of the lanterns illuminating the softly-flowing water before you.

 Your plan to slowly adapt Thresh to handling souls again had been going well; every day a new lantern lit up, and he was able to maintain his humanlike form outside the temple for longer and longer. No matter how much you tried to reassure him that you didn’t find his demonic form off-putting, he still seemed insistent to be in his “prettier” form as much as he could around you.

You knew he didn’t make the same effort when he wasn’t around you; every time he went on a run to the trading post, you saw him drop his humanlike form when he hit the trees and didn’t think your eyes were still on him. It had to have been a drain on him to stay in his purple-haired form as long as he could, but he never complained. You had come to find both of his forms… attractive, in their own respective ways, but it wasn’t like you could just openly tell him that. He was a spirit and you were a human, and besides that, your time here was limited.

You had been trying not to think about it, but your time here was almost up. You had three days left before you would go back to your usual life, a thought which only felt more painful considering the taste you had gotten of a better life, one where you weren’t some pariah. But you said nothing of your worries to Thresh; if you wanted to help him, you had to be strong and face the end of your time together with a smile on your face.

You had finally realized the extent of your feelings for Thresh, back a week ago sitting at the river’s edge with your head on his shoulder. At first you had dismissed the butterflies in your stomach as nothing more than situational; of course you would feel like this, he was the only man to ever really interact on a meaningful level with you, anyone in your situation would feel the same way. You told yourself that again and again, but it didn’t feel right. Eventually, you were forced to confront the truth; you weren’t feeling this way because he was a man who bothered to talk to you, you were feeling like this because he was the man he was.

He hadn’t offered you his shoulder since that night, but that didn’t mean that he was pulling away from you; in fact, it was quite the opposite. He seemed to have an incessant need to be close to you, and had insisted on holding your hand every day on your walks to and from the lake. You were unable to refuse the contact, as much as you knew it would hurt you in the end when you had to leave. Whenever he smiled that wide, toothy smile at you, you were putty in his hands.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him, so you allowed yourself to just enjoy his closeness for now, even if the impending end to your time together was slowly burning a hole in your chest. But even if you wanted to forget how little time you had left here, you couldn’t. You still had one more thing you had to do.

Thresh had gone on what was to be the last supply run while you were still here, promising to bring back a special tea he had heard about as well as more daifuku. You watched him go, waiting until you could no longer see his figure before you enacted your plan.

You soon wouldn’t be here to keep Thresh company, so you needed to make sure someone was. And given your limited interactions with other spirits in this world, the choice was easy to make.

It was obvious that Ahri cared about Thresh, but not to the detriment of the souls. But he had come so far, and you needed Ahri to see that. If you wanted to return Thresh to his former glory, her support would be vital.

You hadn’t seen her again since that day, but you had a feeling that she was still keeping an eye out for you. You knew that neither of them would reach out to each other on their own, their shame and pride too much for them to overcome by themselves, so you would take things into your own hands.

You retreated back to your room, snatching up the scroll and writing brush Thresh had given you when you had expressed an interest in drawing to help pass the time. Tearing off a section of the scroll, you began to write a letter to Ahri, asking her to come to the lake tomorrow at mid-morning.

After the ink had dried, you folded the note in half before making your way to the area behind the temple where you had spoken to Ahri before. Bending down, you placed the folded paper on the ground, then placing a large rock on top of it to keep it from fleeing with the wind.

Once the note was secured, you stood back up, looking out over the forest. If you had been on your spirit walk, you would have continued walking into the forest and onto the next temple, but right now was anything but an ordinary visit to the spirit world. You were having a hard time remembering which spirit’s temple was after Thresh’s on your route… was it the one with the arrow? Or maybe the one with the antlers carved into their pedestal?

Either way, you couldn’t see much of anything in the forest behind the temple. You knew it would be too much to hope to see a small fox lingering around, but you would have to trust that she would find the note and agree to meet you tomorrow. You knew that she wanted to see Thresh performing his duties as he once had, so you hoped that her curiosity of what could be would compel her to accept your invitation. She seemed to have faith in you, so you hoped that she still trusted your judgment.

There was no point standing out here, not knowing when Ahri would even come by, but you had never seen Thresh come back here, so you knew the note would be safe from anyone but Ahri finding it. So it was back inside for you to work on the idle work; Thresh had gotten you some new clothing to wear after noticing your discomfort with your blood-stained ceremonial robes, and you had been slowly trying to repair the stained and ripped clothing. Maybe you could finally sew up the hole in the shoulder before Thresh returned from the trading post.

The next day, you were walking with Thresh to the lake, trying not to let all of your worries show on your face, but it was hard not to think about all of the events that would soon be upon you. This would be your one and only chance to get Ahri and Thresh to make up, at least while you were still here. And more troubling still, today would be your last full day here; at ten o’clock tomorrow night, you would step back onto the silver path and leave this place behind for your regular life. Somehow the thought of walking through this place as spirit guardian sent sadness coursing through you, since when you walked the silver path again, you would no longer be able to see Thresh.

But you wouldn’t let Thresh know of your dour thoughts, putting a smile on your face as you talked about what a nice day it was, although that didn’t mean that your eyes didn’t begin to fervently scan the area once you arrived at the lake.

You were not as subtle as you thought, as Thresh turned his head to look back at the patch of trees you were currently eyeing.

“Does something trouble you? The azakana should not–”

“No, it’s nothing!” you quickly denied. “No azakana, just…”

Then you caught sight of something over Thresh’s shoulder, a fluffy-tailed little creature emerging from the bushes. This was it. You could feel your heart rate pick up considerably, your palms feeling sweaty as you felt the pressure for this to go well.

Why had you put off telling him until now? It just made things harder. But you couldn’t lie to yourself; every time you had wanted to warn him, he had looked at you with those soft eyes and you had chickened out.

In truth, you were scared. Even thinking of Ahri seemed to send Thresh’s mood downward, so how was he going to react when he found out that you had gone behind his back and met her, had invited her here now? It was selfish, but you just wanted to enjoy the rest of the time you had left until you had to tell him. You knew he would have every reason to cast you out early over this betrayal, but at the same time, it had to be done. You couldn’t continue to be selfish with such important things at stake.

“Thresh, there’s something I have to tell you,” you said, forcing each word out almost against your will.

“Are you alright?” he asked with a frown, one hand raising to cup your cheek. “If something is ailing you, I will–”

“I’m okay,” you said, trying to keep yourself together. “But there’s something you need to know. I met with Ahri.”

Thresh froze, his hand cold against your skin. Ahri had emerged fully from the brush by this point, but did not come any closer, her eyes on the scene before her. Turning your focus back to the spirit before you, you found Thresh staring down at you, waiting for an explanation, the pain in his face making you feel like you had thorns in your heart.

“The first time you left for the trading post, she came to see me. She was worried… worried that you would do the same thing with me that you used to do with souls.”

Thresh looked down, hand dropping from your cheek like you had burned him. His pulling away saddened you, but you had to keep going.

“I told her you weren’t like that anymore!” you exclaimed. “I told her that you’re a good person, Thresh. That you just needed help to restore your faith in yourself.”

“She told you about me?” Thresh’s voice was so quiet that it was hard to hear. “What I used to be… I had hoped you would never know. I fear I could not take your rejection too.”

You had expected anger, not this almost tangible sadness. Thresh’s breathing was shuddered, the spirit shrinking in on himself, unwilling to meet your eyes. He looked broken, and the sight hurt your heart so much that you found yourself reaching out to him, laying your hand over the cold metal of his golden jaw mask, fingers brushing against the purple skin of his face.

“I don’t care who you used to be,” you spoke, hoping your words would be enough to reach him. “I care about who you are now, Thresh. These past weeks I have seen a spirit who is more than worthy of taking care of human souls, and I wanted Ahri to see too. You’re both hurting, and I just wanted you to understand each other for once.”

“I can’t say I expected to see you like this, Thresh,” Ahri said, now in her shifted form as she walked towards you.

“Ahri…” Thresh pulled back from you to turn and face her.

“It’s been a long time,” she greeted. “But she’s right. This talk has been long overdue.”

“I am not…”

“Please, Thresh, just listen to her,” you implored him, taking his hand back in yours.

Thresh whispered your name, staring down at your joined hands for a long moment before relenting. “…very well.”

“Glad to see you listen to someone,” Ahri grinned, holding up her hands in mock surrender when faced with Thresh’s grumpy frown in response. “I’ve been wanting to talk with you for quite a while, but it didn’t feel right since I was the reason for our falling out.”

“You have done nothing I did not deserve, I know that now,” Thresh replied. “I do not deserve this duty, not when I am so weak to fall prey to my own wretched loneliness.”

“I’ve made mistakes too,” Ahri said. “I never realized that you felt like that, not until it was too late. We spirits have a responsibility to the souls of the dead, but we cannot forsake each other in the name of performing our duty. I failed you, Thresh, as a fellow spirit and as a friend.”

“I thought…” Thresh trailed off.

“Don’t get me wrong, you deserved the lecture I gave you,” Ahri said, voice light despite her harsh words. “But that little human of yours has made me realize that I can’t hold your past against you forever.”

A small splash had your collective attentions turning to the lake, where a new soul had appeared on the surface of the water, a gray-purple in color. It was lacking the furor of the first soul you had seen had, which Thresh had told you indicated that this was an expected death, the soul free of distress, but still needing guidance.

Thresh hadn’t moved, so you tried to urge him into action with a squeeze of his hand. His fingers clutched back at yours reflexively, reluctant white eyes sliding down to meet yours. You stared deeply into his eyes, trying to convey your confidence in him without words.

Then, as one final attempt. “Please.”

Thresh sighed, but it didn’t sound sad, instead having the tone of a parent indulging a child’s whim. “It seems I am unable to deny you anything.”

You let your hands slip apart, your attention moving back to Ahri as you suddenly remembered that she was there as well, much to your embarrassment. You were surprised to see her looking your way with a bittersweet smile on her face, her expression shifting to careful neutrality when she noticed that your eyes were on her.

Thresh approached the water’s edge, just like he had done every day for the past couple of weeks, beckoning the soul towards him. Your attention was split between watching him and looking at Ahri’s face for any clues on how she was feeling.

The air grew noticeably tense as the soul reached Thresh’s outstretched hand. Despite your faith in Thresh, you still held your breath as you watched him interact with the soul, waiting for him to release it into the air as he had done every time before. Looking over at Ahri, you found her just as tense as you if not more so, her jaw tight and body rigid as if she was expecting to spring into action at any moment.

Just as you began to feel like you couldn’t take your heightened nerves any longer, the soul passed through Thresh’s lantern before releasing into the air. The tension finally broke, and your body sagged forward in relief like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

“You were right,” Ahri whispered, her bright blue eyes still on Thresh. “I never thought I would see him like this again.”

“Will you… help him? After I go back to my village?” you whispered back.

Ahri sighed. “I’ll have to. I can’t imagine he’ll be feeling very well after you leave.”

“What?”

Ahri turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been here for five minutes and I can see how he looks at you. How much he trusts you.”

“Ahri…”

Then Thresh turned back to you and the moment was broken. He looked so relieved that the questions you had for Ahri vanished from your mind. He was able to maintain his purple-haired form all the way back over to you, before his power waned again and his pale skin bled to vibrant purple again.

You wanted to congratulate him, to offer some words to let him know how proud you were of him, but the words again died as you met his eyes, saw his happy grin. But as happy as you were for him, his smile also made you feel hollow inside as the thought occurred to you that you wouldn’t be seeing it any more after tomorrow. The only man you had ever… ever <i>loved</i>, and you were about to lose him forever.

A sob tore from your throat, tears overflowing from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks. You cursed yourself, knowing you were ruining this important moment for Thresh, yet you were unable to stop the tears from coming.

Thresh cried out your name, rushing forward until he was stopped by Ahri stepping between the two of you.

“Do not get in my way, Ahri,” Thresh seethed, agitated.

“Stand down,” Ahri stressed gently. “I don’t need you making things worse with your worrying.”

“She is in pain, and I have vowed to protect her–”

“From <i>azakana</i>,” Ahri interrupted. “This time, let me help her. She needs a woman’s advice right now.”

“But–”

“It’s okay, Thresh,” you chimed in, desperately wiping at your wet eyes. You really didn’t want him to see you like this, crying over the inevitable. “Ahri’s right, it’s just… a girl issue.”

“We’re at the lake anyways,” Ahri said. “We’ll have a bath and talk and then I’ll bring her back to your temple. Does that work for you, sir protector?”

“A bath?” Thresh pouted.

“Don’t be jealous,” Ahri teased. “And besides, she still has your mark. You would know if anything happens to her in my care.”

“Thresh?” Your quiet voice turned his focus back to you, though he still looked sulky. “Could we have some of that new tea you bought when I get back?”

It took a few seconds, but eventually he nodded. “Of course.”

“You can stop worrying. I’ll take care of your precious human,” Ahri said with a grin. “Now, go. We have some girl time to start.”

Thresh levelled a stern look at Ahri, who didn’t bat an eye, but stepped out of the way at last to allow him access to you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Ahri,” you said. “But I wanted her to see that you could do this for herself.”

“I am not upset with you,” Thresh replied. “You have pulled me out of the darkness that has been suffocating me for too long. I only worry for you now... are you truly alright? I do not like to see your tears.”

“I’m okay,” you insisted. “Sorry I keep crying in front of you, but Ahri’s right, it’s just a girl issue.”

You felt bad stretching the truth, but you didn’t want to worry Thresh any more than you already had. Thankfully he accepted your explanation without much further trouble, but that didn’t mean he didn’t continue looking over his shoulder at you every few seconds for his entire walk back into the forest.

You and Ahri were silent as you watched him go, with you offering him a smile to reassure him every time he turned his head back to look until he was out of sight.

When he was gone at last, Ahri turned to you with a playful eye roll. “He’s so overprotective.”

“Um, I…” You weren’t sure what to say, but your cheeks felt too warm.

Ahri began to untie her obi, letting the garment fall to the ground and raising an eyebrow at your confused stare. “I wasn’t kidding about the bath. I’ve been needing a good soak after all the stress this month.”

You nodded, following her lead and undressing and getting into the crystal water with her. Ahri leaned back, closing her eyes and letting her tails fan out in the water.

You leaned back as well, dunking your hair in the water; if you were here, you might as well take the opportunity to wash yourself. Neither of you spoke, just enjoying the cool water, until Ahri finally broke the silence.

“I’ll have my hands full after tomorrow night,” she said. “Thresh is going to be even worse than he was all those years ago after he loses you.”

“But he still has you,” you protested.

“You really don’t get it?” she countered. “Nobody here could reach him, not until you came along. You mean more to him than a thousand human souls. And I can see you feel the same way for him as he does for you.”

“What does it matter?” you replied, knowing you were owning up to her allegations. “What can I do when we only have one more day together? It will only hurt worse if I tell him my feelings and then we have to part forever. I don’t want to hurt him more.”

Ahri sighed. “But what about you? You don’t think he cares if you’re hurting?”

“I’m used to it,” you dismissed with a sad smile. “Loneliness is expected with the life I live. I learned long ago that there was nothing I could do to change people’s minds about me. But Thresh talked to me, he let me experience what it was like to feel like someone cares… that is enough for me.”

Ahri was silent for a long moment. “Fine. I see you have your mind made up, but just remember where the ones who care about you truly are.”

 The talk with Ahri had really helped you calm down, and had solidified your feelings about the rest of your time with Thresh. Even if he did feel for you like you did for him like she had said, there was no point in doing anything about it right before you were to be parted forever. Just spending time with him the same way you had been was enough; then both of you would not suffer more in the end.

Thresh had long since prepared the special tea by the time you had got back and had been waiting in the entryway like a dog that missed its owner. You were grateful that Ahri had helped you calm down enough to simply enjoy the time you had left with Thresh, even spending that evening at the river’s edge again, Thresh insistently maneuvering your head onto his shoulder. You knew that you would remember this night for the rest of your life. But the moment could not stretch on forever, much as you would have liked it to, and soon your time here was coming to its end.

You had both been trying to act normal all day the next day, like you weren’t being slowly suffocated by the reality that you would soon have to part. You had drawn out that evening’s teatime long after the tea was drank and the daifuku was eaten. Only when it was half an hour to ten did you finally acknowledge the inevitable, returning to your room for the last time to don your ceremonial clothing for your return to your village.

Would they fear you even more now that you had survived the unsurvivable? It wasn’t like they could avoid you much more than they already did.

An unfamiliar weight as you pulled your skirt on had you reaching into your pocket to pull out the bell Ahri had gifted you at the end of your first meeting. At first, you considered giving it to Thresh to return to her, but selfishly decided against it. Ahri was very astute, so you had no doubt that she realized you still had the bell and seemed fine to let you keep it. And as sad as you would be to think of this place come tomorrow, you couldn’t help but grasp onto this physical reminder of your time here, even if Ahri’s promise of help would not extend to your world as well.

Stowing the bell back in your pocket, you fixed your outfit into place. You had long since repaired the hole in the shoulder, but you had never quite been fully successful in removing the bloodstains from the white garments. You would likely have to replace them with new robes when you got back.

Your steps to the entryway where Thresh was waiting felt so heavy, the air around you like walking through sand, as if your sad reluctance was palpable. But this was your role in life. You would have to just be grateful that you were given the time here that you were.

Entering the front room, you found Thresh standing near the door, his long ears drooped in the way they always were when he was upset. You wished you could do something to help him feel better, but it was hard when you were feeling the same way that he was right now.

“I’m ready,” you said, drawing his attention to you. “Though my bloody clothes will probably give the people in my village a scare.”

“You look beautiful,” Thresh replied softly, sending warmth to your cheeks with his unexpected compliment.

You managed to stutter out a thank you before following Thresh out to the front of the temple, the trees looking very similar under the moonlight as they had that night one month ago when this had all begun.

You knew that you had very little time left, your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth. What could you possibly say to convey everything you were feeling? No words felt like enough right now.

Thresh stepped towards you, quickly taking you into his arms in a tight hug. He seemed determined to maintain his humanlike form until the last possible second, which you let him have without complaint. You didn’t care what form he took, they had both become so precious to you.

“My sweet little human, I will miss you more than you know,” he murmured above your head, holding you close.

“I’ll miss you too… so much,” you replied, still unwilling to completely bare your soul to him. It would be easier for you both this way. You knew it would.

“My tea will taste bitter again,” Thresh added, voice wavering. “This place will feel empty again without you.”

“You’ll see me again,” you said tearfully. “You’ll be here to greet my soul when it arrives here, won’t you?”

“That is not enough,” Thresh retorted miserably. “I want to see your face every day. I want to hear your voice call my name. I do not want to guide your soul in death, I want you here with me in life. No soul will ever have the same worth to me as your living one.”

“Thresh,” you sobbed against his chest. “I don’t want to go, but I have to. I have to…”

“My beautiful human,” Thresh addressed you, pulling back from the hug to look down at you. “May I ask for one final indulgence from you?”

He leaned down towards you, clearly laying his feelings on the table the closer his lips got to yours.

“Please,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You had not expected this, but found yourself wanting so desperately to kiss Thresh. One kiss to remember him by as long as you lived.

You waited, feeling him close the gap, when you were startled by a spark of feeling in your hand, like you had been zapped by lightning.

You weren’t given a second to react before you were violently yanked from the ground and into the air. Letting out a terrified scream, you watched Thresh get farther and farther away the higher into the air you rose.

Your arms and legs constricted, you were only able to move your head to look at your captor, the blood freezing in your veins at the familiar multi-horned face that loomed maliciously over you.

“You could not hide forever,” the azakana hissed. “I will not be denied the taste of your flesh and blood.”

You heard an anguished cry of your name, looking back down to see Thresh below you on the ground, his form reverted back to his demonlike form.

“Release her!” he seethed, shocking you with the rage in his voice. He had removed his hook from his belt and was holding it up as if ready to strike.

“You have no power here,” the azakana taunted. “If you strike me, she will fall. Either way, your puny human will die.”

“Thresh!” you shouted, the azakana squeezing you tighter in its wormlike body in response, your body burning in pain.

Thresh shouted your name again, sounding increasingly more desperate as the azakana stared haughtily down at him.

You could see the silver path now, winding around the temple. You had dreaded that sight all of today, but now it felt miles away. As you were constricted tighter and tighter in the azakana’s hold, everything began to fade farther away. The only thing you could focus on was the anguish on Thresh’s face, the sheer powerlessness of your situation clear.

“You will die!” Thresh seethed. “You hurt her, and you will perish as well!”

“Then I will have a good last meal,” the azakana countered. “Her tasty fear will keep me satisfied in the darkness of death.”

Your hands were pressed tightly to your sides painfully tightly, one hand pressing against a hard lump at your side. You were lamenting the pain from the mystery lump until it hit you; Ahri’s bell was still in your pocket. She had promised help, though you doubted she expected you to use it like this, but you were beyond desperate.

Wiggling a hand up and into your pocket, you gritted your teeth against the severe pain in your body as you clasped your fingers around the bell, shaking it as much as you could given your current movement restrictions.

“Please, Ahri, please!” you begged quietly, the azakana’s cruel laughter ringing out above your head, black spots starting to dot your vision from your prolonged constraint.

You couldn’t hear the bell make any noise, but shook it in your closed fist until your hand felt too numb to move. You were wheezing, trying desperately to breathe, about to pass out when you were forced to close your eyes to avoid being blinded by a bright flash of light.

The azakana’s body curled ever tighter around you, and then that pressure loosened all at once, restoring your lost breath to your aching body. Looking over at the source of the bright light, you saw a figure with snow white skin and hair, bright teal tails flared out behind her.

Ahri did not waste a second, charging at the demon again, her foxfire burning a hole through the monster, who shrieked in pain as it was cleaved in two by Ahri’s fierce attacks. The creature was dead, but that left you high in the air with a worm demon’s body that was about to uncurl and send you plummeting to your death.

“Thresh!” Ahri yelled, her voice distorted with a ferocity you hadn’t known she had in her.

The dead azakana’s body went limp and you slipped from its grip, quickly falling towards the ground. You stared at the coming ground, terror chilling your sore limbs as you fell closer and closer to your death.

Suddenly you were surprised by a shout of your name, followed by an object appearing in your field of vision. As you fell closer to it, you realized that it looked familiar, quickly recognizing it as Thresh’s lantern.

“Take hold of it!” Thresh shouted, and you did your best to obey, shifting your body in the air to reach out for the lantern with the last of your strength.

You were barely able to make it, the tips of your fingers just grazing the ethereal lantern, but the effect was immediate. Like an elastic pulled to its limit, you were instantly snapped through the air, landing harmlessly against Thresh’s body.

Thresh’s arms were tight around you as you sunk into his body, feeling boneless with relief.

“I feared I would lose you to that demon,” Thresh spoke quietly. “I could do nothing, I–”

“You pulled me to safety. I wouldn’t call that nothing,” you replied against his chest.

“But you were hurt…” he protested.

“You sure know how to attract trouble,” came Ahri’s voice from behind you.

You turned around, still in Thresh’s arms as he refused to let you go. You watched as Ahri’s all-white form faded, replaced by her usual appearance.

“Ahri, thank you!” you exclaimed, doing your best to bow to her with Thresh’s arms still stubbornly wrapped around your waist.

“Well, I gave you that bell for a reason,” she replied. “I’m just glad I got here in time.”

“I owe you–”

“You owe me nothing,” she replied dismissively. “I was just repaying the debt that this world owes you for returning Thresh to us.”

“Still,” you protested. “You liked that inari sushi I brought before, I can bring you more next month!”

“No,” Ahri declined sternly. “I have something different I want from you… stay here.”

“Stay?” you echoed. “But my village…”

“Your village does not appreciate what they have,” Ahri argued. “I won’t allow you to return to those ingrates when you have people here who want you to stay.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

Ahri smirked. “I’ve talked to the other spirits and they all agree. We would like to offer to make you one of us, but I’m afraid we require the consent of one more spirit… Thresh?”

You felt Thresh go rigid behind you. “I give my consent.”

“That was fast!” Ahri laughed. “But there you have it. Become one of us.”

“But the deal with my village…” you weakly disputed, despite your heart singing at the offer.

“The deal is over,” she answered. “We will not harm the village, but they will no longer be under our protection. They will find a way to coexist with the mountain, or they will die, but they must find their own way now.”

She was right, and both of you knew it. Why were you so determined to go back to a place that couldn’t care less if you lived or died. If you took her offer, then you could stay here with Thresh. It was all you wanted, but you were struggling to make that choice and be selfish for once in your life.

“You’ve lived for them for too long,” Ahri said. “It’s time that you lived for yourself.”

You took a deep breath as you stared at her outstretched hand. If you took her offer, then you would never return to your village again, but thinking about it now, that knowledge felt like a relief. You could live amongst people who actually cared about you, the happiness that realization brought almost indescribable. With one decision, you would sever ties with your former way of life, and you found yourself excitedly reaching out for Ahri’s hand, a satisfied skin on her face as her nails bit slightly against the skin of your palm.

A light surrounded your joined hands, followed by a gentle warmth on the back of your hand in the same spot that had held your mark of protection from Thresh. Pulling your hand back, you now found that it beheld a beautiful pink flower that seemed to glow supernaturally under the moonlight.

“It’s done,” Ahri announced happily. “You belong to this world now. And with your new level of power, the azakana will keep away.”

You looked behind her to the large azakana corpse that was still laid over the temple grounds, its upper half partially-submerged in the river that separated Thresh’s temple from the forest.

“Go ahead, touch its body,” Ahri instructed, sending a stern look Thresh’s way so he would finally let you out of his arms.

Ahri gave you a nod, smiling smugly as you took hesitant steps forward and coming to a stop before the lower section of the creature’s body. Looking quickly back to Ahri for confirmation, you reached out and quickly tapped the corpse with your fingers before pulling your hand back.

Instantly, the body began to disintegrate, a pink fire burning along both ends of its body until it was no more, your memories the only indication that it had ever been here at all.

“And that’s what will happen to any azakana that dares to touch you,” Ahri boasted. “Now, I think it’s time I left you two alone. We can save the introductions to the other spirits for another time.”

With a wink, she reverted to her fox form before darting across the bridge and into the trees. As you watched her go, you realized that the silver path wasn’t there anymore. This was it, you were finally free.

A soft call of your name had you turning back to Thresh, who was staring at you like you were the moon itself. You took slow steps towards him, quickly picking up your pace to sprint into his arms.

“I can stay!” you cried, wrapping your arms tightly around him. Pulling slightly back from the embrace, you looked up at him with a teasing grin. “Does this mean your tea will taste good again?”

You barely had a second’s warning before Thresh’s lips were on yours. You let out a surprised moan, eyes fluttering closed to enjoy the sensation.

While you didn’t mind Thresh’s demonic form, the gold jaw armor he wore was a different story as it cut into your skin. Pulling back to a kiss-dazed Thresh, you held up a hand to stop him from going in for another kiss, tapping the metal of his jaw mask.

“I had not realized… I have gotten so used to my mask that I forgot,” Thresh admitted.

“It’s fine,” you replied. “Let’s go back inside so you can shift into your other form and we can keep kissing.”

Thresh could not comply fast enough.

You had barely gotten inside before Thresh took you into his arms, leaving you scrambling to grab onto his vest to steady yourself.

“I would have never thought that I could keep you,” Thresh spoke warmly. “It was too much to hope that you would feel the same way as I do.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you countered as Thresh strolled to the back hall. “I didn’t want to go, but I felt like I had to. But Ahri is right, my place is here, with you.”

Thresh grinned happily as he stopped in front of a door halfway down the hallway; his room. You were filled with curiosity as he shifted you around in his arms so he could open the door. You had never even caught a glimpse of Thresh’s room, not wanting to invade his privacy, so this would be your first time seeing it.

The moment he stepped inside, the room lit up with a gentle purple-tinted glow from an assortment of small orbs on the ceiling. The room was not lavish by any means, a large bed sat in the center alongside a chest of drawers. On the wall was a mountainscape painting not unlike yours, but this one was darker, like a mountain at night, the painting dotted with small circles of light that reminded you of souls.

As Thresh placed you down on the futon, you noticed something on top of the drawers. “Is that… my fan?”

Atop the drawers sat a fan, decorated with flowers of varying purples that you had painted on yourself. That had been among the first gifts you had delivered, back seven months ago now.

You looked from the fan to Thresh, who looked back at you with fondness in his eyes. “In my isolation, the gifts were my only joy, yours more so than any I have received before.”

“Thresh…” You hadn’t thought you could like him any more, but seeing how he had taken such care of the gifts you had brought him made your heart warm all over again.

Thresh joined you on the futon, leaning down until his face was inches from your own.

“My dear human,” Thresh whispered, bringing a hand up to your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Would you allow me just one more indulgence?”

You leaned your face into his palm, part of you wanting to shy away, but the larger part of you wanting this so badly that you couldn’t bear to wait one more second. “Please.”

Thresh readily locked lips with you again, laying your body down on the futon and quickly covering you with his own body, all while refusing to break the kiss. You were quickly becoming overwhelmed by the intensity of his kisses, letting out a moan as his tongue finally brushed against your own.

You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, settling with pressing them against his bare chest. His long side bangs draped down over you, tickling the skin at the collar of your shirt, his sudden warmth making your long clothing feel suffocating.

“My clothes,” you panted, pulling back from the kiss. “Take them off.”

Thresh stared down at you, want in his eyes as he reached down to untie the knots that held your top together. However, it quickly became clear that Thresh was unused to the working of shirts, maybe due to not wearing one himself for so long, as the ties on your shirt seemed to mystify him.

“Just rip it off,” you whined, trying not to laugh at him or the cute look of intense focus on his face. “Now that I’m staying, it’s not like I need these robes anymore.”

Thresh’s eyes flashed, and with one quick motion, his nails split your shirt, skirt and underwear down the middle with a rip that was faster than your eyes could follow.

“…I apologize,” he said, cheeks pink. “Your words always seem to overpower my reason.”

Peeling away your now-ruined clothing, Thresh rested one hand on your breast, cupping it gently with his palm. His touch sent a visible shiver through your hypersensitive skin, your reaction giving Thresh the confidence to touch you more boldly, leaning down to get his mouth on your breasts.

You squirmed under him, his attention to your breasts sending pulses of heat to the apex of your thighs. Your wandering hand drifted up to take a gentle hold on the longer of his horns, Thresh letting out a deep groan against your breasts at the contact.

Raising your other hand to his smaller horn, Thresh was finally forced to pull back from your horns with a moan staring at you with eyes dark with lust as he panted.

“I fear I may lose all restraint if I continue to allow you to touch my horns,” Thresh admitted, sitting back and looking like some sort of demon of temptation under the soft lighting of the room. “I do not want to force anything upon you.”

“You aren’t,” you replied. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted like this. I don’t want to do this with anyone but you, Thresh.”

Thresh stared down at you for a moment before a grin took over his face. “I do not think I will ever keep a soul again. Nothing in this world compares to you, my love.”

Thresh’s loving gaze was making you feel shy, but he quickly distracted you by reaching a hand to his other biceps, pulling off his glove before tossing it to the side where your ripped clothes laid. His hook and lantern were set to the side with more care, quickly being joined by his vest to leave his upper half totally bare.

He normally wore an open vest, so his well-defined abdomen wasn’t a new sight for you, but somehow seeing his nude upper body now felt all new in this context. You watched, transfixed, as Thresh’s biceps bulged out slightly as he stood up to remove his belt to free his hakama pants to be removed next. How had you managed to worm your way into the heart of such a beautiful man? It was so hard to believe that you had gone from being a social pariah to laying here, about to experience an act so intimate that you had thought it would be forever out of your reach.

Thresh let his hakama pants fall to the ground, stepping out of them and kicking them gently to the side. Now fully naked, Thresh’s body was as exposed as yours, his cock so hard that it was pointed straight out in your direction. You shuddered with anticipation, the sight of the handsome spirit unclothed making you feel even more wet between your legs.

Thresh returned to you, settling above you, the tips of his ears as flushed with excitement as his cheeks were. “I do not think I will ever grow tired of seeing you like this.”

Thresh took hold of your legs, looking down at you, noting the want in your own face before he wrapped your legs around his sides, which brought your hips close together. With your bodies sufficiently close, Thresh took his cock in hand, lining himself up to close the final distance between your bodies as he began to slide effortlessly into you, the feeling making both of you moan.

Finding no resistance, Thresh was easily able to slide fully into you, the very tip of his cock settling against somewhere inside you that made your back arch.

“Nothing has ever felt like this,” Thresh choked out as he began to move, the feeling of his cock against your most sensitive spots sending your eyes fluttering closed as you gripped at the sheets under you. “I have never desired anything like I desire you, my little human.”

You tried your best to keep up with his pace, but it was all so much, each movement of his hips bringing you closer and closer to your end. Thresh was more than happy to make up for your hazy brain, keeping up his tempo, his desperate groans of your name sending your heartbeat soaring as you moaned his own back to him.

You were getting really, really close, each thrust Thresh made earning a cry from you as you opened your eyes, tugging his face down as you were overcome with the need to kiss him.

With Thresh even closer, his pelvis began to brush against your clit every time he sank back into you, the resulting increase in pleasure almost too much to take.

“Those humans will never get you back,” Thresh groaned possessively. “They will never see how beautiful you look like this.”

You wanted to reply, to say something, but you couldn’t find the words, clutching Thresh tightly as you came, eyes closing tight as his following thrusts allowed you to ride out the sensations until finally Thresh stilled as well.

Pulling himself gently out of you, he laid down next to you, pulling you to him. You happily snuggled against his chest, feeling tired, but more at peace than you had ever been.

“Thresh,” you whispered, getting a short hum in response. “What you said…”

“What you said earlier about Ahri being right,” came his reply. “This may be the first time I have agreed with her in a long while. Your people have forsaken quite a great treasure to me, one that will cost them so much.”

You pulled back from his chest, waiting for him to say more. It was embarrassing how addicted you were to his praise, but you couldn’t help yourself after so many years of neglect.

“Of course, if you ever wish to return–”

“I won’t,” you quickly denied.

Thresh grinned as he leaned in for another kiss. “Then we will enjoy our forever right here, my sweet little human.”

You had no complaints, closing your eyes as you kissed the man you loved, mentally thanking that thorned branch that had led to you finding the place where you belonged.

#reader insert #x reader #league of legends #league of legends thresh #spirit blossom thresh #lol x reader #league of legends x reader #thresh x reader #spirit blossom thresh x reader

[yoshkeii]

"𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎."

࿐ character(s): Daishou Suguru, Atsumu Miya, Sakusa Kiyoomi

࿐ genre: angst (to fluff)

࿐ type: headcanons (hcs)

࿐ requested: yes, as a continuation of  "𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍.”

⌦ male!reader (he/him)

⌦ mentions ; cheating (atsumu’s), angst to fluff (sakusa)

⌦ they all have different scenarios, so its best to check out the first post for a little more context.

A/N: never expected to make a part two, but i guess the feedback said otherwise. its been awhile since ive written anything, so i may be rusty, disregard mistakes too please-

𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴 ; this is queued. i am still on my hiatus.

𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞:

→ ever since the argument, you had left. taking majority of what was yours and what you could in the quickest of matters. you and Daishou barely talked or interact within those days. often dead silence within the shared home... or rather what was shared.

→ it was quite suffocating as well, leaving each other after a long relationship you both committed to. but you had a gut feeling it would end unfortunately.

→ Daishou had seen you leave for the last time past the front door. only exchanging a blunt “bye.” before disappearing behind the solid door. he really hoped this was all lies and games, but it wasn’t. he knew this was real, he knew this will be his reality. without you. the fading steps signaled that you were not gonna look back.

→ since then, he hasn’t heard of you since. he hasn’t seen your name around social media and only the bittersweet memories of when his friends would bring you up came into mind.

→ but it was like, you erased him from your world. and yet Daishou still held tight of the cut thread that lead to you. the other end laying flat onto the floor as the other end you had, disappeared as a whole. a huge gap between you both.

→ him being in denial, he kept mainly to himself. 

→ the old shared space felt empty. drastically different every time he would come home. he would hear your welcoming voice that made his whole body so warm and fuzzy, but now, the silence was painful and cold as he stepped inside his so called ‘home’. he didn’t know why...

→ but he really wanted you back. he wanted to see your face no matter when he came home. he missed your whole presence. he yearned for something that he could’ve kept if he would just shut up.

→ Daishou didn’t expect to see you here. at the same party he would be invited to, he watched you from the second floor that had the view of the merged rooms of the living room and kitchen. seeing you laugh and smile with two other friends who you stumbled upon, the sight made his heart sting.

→ a sharp stab straight through his chest, only thinking if he could be the reason for that smile. that laughter. oh he envied it.

→ he tried to avert his thoughts away before he heard some whistles and calling of names, to see your figure slip away with someone else from the crowd.

→ watching you both from his higher position, he noticed your hands intertwined with the other. his own hand slightly clenching the daring drink he held, the other grasping the rail tighter the longer he watched.

→ Daishou’s eyes soon looked up at your face. the expression you had made him feel conflicted.

→ the wide pure smile you had accompanied with the deep flush, made him feel that oh so familiar feeling. but knowing he wasn’t the cause of it pained him.

→ although, seeing you with someone deserving made him feel at ease. but the stabbing dagger in his heart laid there still, only reminding him that he could’ve been that better person.

𝙰𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚞:

→ after the confrontation, you and Atsumu had split ways of course. it was difficult to move on and realize the situation at hand, to the both of you.

→ seeing where your stuff would be gone in the shared space made it surprisingly empty and less... alive. the whole place felt dead and empty, like a home left abruptly without an obvious reason of why.

→ but Atsumu knew why, and it began to nag at him. it made him feel so guilty to do that to you. to him, you were so pure, kind, and oh so nice. he could go on about your looks too, he really could. but every thought of you made his mind so hazy and clouded with distraught. 

→ why did he cheat? you were loyal to him- if only he could be too.

→ its been a couple years since then, it was tough for Atsumu. he had cut ties for who he was cheating with, regretting what he did and in hopes to regain you back before- didn’t obviously work. so now he stayed alone in the home that practically mocked him of his decision. 

→ he was quite surprised Atsumu wasn’t blocked by you throughout social media etc. but he didn’t dare to strike a conversation and laid idle as he saw you occasionally appear on his feed. 

→ seeing you mention being in relationship but only giving vague hints and images, truly never revealing who to your followers. 

→ sighing as he slipped his phone into his pocket, he didn’t want to think about it all, so he decided to pay a visit to Osamu at his restaurant. to his twin’s dismay.

→ arriving there fairly quickly he waved at his brother who was behind the counter cleaning up for the night, seeing his twin wave back slightly before continuing on whatever he was doing.

→ Atsumu couldn’t help but noticed the metallic object that wrapped around Osamu’s ring finger. 

→ “..’Samu? What’s on yer’ hand?”

→ “Oh- ya noticed already. I got engaged not so long ago, or recently.”

→ curiosity jabbing at the blonde made him eagerly question again.

→ “I- What?? By who!? ‘Samu ya didn’t even tell me you were in a relationship!” Atsumu could only just whine, knowing his brother didn’t share with him about his personal life after highschool. 

→ “Shut up ‘Tsumu.. Don’t be so loud in my restaurant or I’ll kick yer ass out of here!”

→ “..but do you still wanna know?”

→ Osamu seeing his twin nod with anticipation made him sigh, knowing this wouldn’t end too well. “Well.. me and [Name] are getting married. Just got engaged with him two days ago.”

→ “..[Name]..?” Atsumu could only repeat the familiar name, his voice faint but still audible to his brother’s ears.

→ he couldn’t believe it. his brother... and.. 

→ “W-well-! That’s.. nice for both of ya, haha..” the blonde tried to played off, hoping that the wavering of his voice didn’t catch his attention but, Osamu already knew, simply playing along as the conversation continued and slowly shifted off to something else.

→ Atsumu had left the place rather quickly than he originally intended to stay- but he didn’t expect it. he didn’t expect you being engaged with his twin, eventually knowing you’ll see each other soon.

→ he didn’t know how to feel about this. he was happy for both of you- but- he wasn’t over you. although it has been more than two years, he wasn’t. he missed you, he yearned to see you again. he wanted to hear your laughter and giggles, your voice overall. he wanted to see you smile, he wanted to see your handsome face. 

→  he wanted... you back. but he knows he can’t have you. not anymore.

𝚂𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚊:

→ when you left passed the front door, you hadn’t come back after a few minutes. and it was.. raining. pretty badly.

→ having worry built up in his stomach that soon turned into a mixture of anxiety made him feel uneasy, overthinking the situation and words he said to you earlier made him choke on his actions. 

→ snapping out of the trance, he rushed to go grab a coat to slip on. retrieving his phone. hurrying out the front door hoping to find you haven’t gotten too far already, almost slipping down some steps of the apartment building on the way to find you.

→ the rushing anxiety continue to flow through him, making his movements more loose and clumsy as he ran off to find you. calling out your name aimlessly of the darkened rainy streets. not caring that his curls were getting soaked in the pounding rain, he just wanted to find you. 

→ to find you and keep you safe.

→ Sakusa’s heart kept increasing every moment he didn’t see you. he wanted to find you so bad- this anxiety he had was much worse than when around he was in crowds, this one felt more instinctual.

→ forgetting he had brought his phone, he slipped it out of his pocket quickly dialing and calling you. to find you answering on the second ring.

→ “..h-hello-?”

→ “[Name]..! T-thank god your safe.”

→ the slight mess-up Sakusa slurred with his words made you feel slightly worried, “..yes I am safe. what’s up with you??”

→ “Nothing..! But w-where are you?”

→ “I’m.. at a nearby cafe. Are you sure you-”

→ your boyfriend interrupted you quickly, “I’m on my way.”

→ “H-hey..! Don’t just-”, hearing the call end with singular beep, “aaaand.. he hung up..” you decided to look around from your position outside, grasping your phone nervously. realizing the rain was pounding down much harder than earlier.

→ the sound of the familiar voice calling your name from the distance caught your attention, gazing over to see Sakusa running over towards you. 

→ “S-saku-”

→ jumping lightly at the sudden hug he enveloped you, muttering soft rushed apologies over and over again as he hid his drenched face in the crook of your neck. he had continued his rambles of apologies as you hugged him back, rubbing his back lightly. watching the ravened hair male let it out a little longer before you could mutter reassuring words to him back.

→ the tension slowly rising from his muscles but the hold of his hug didn’t falter at all, only continuing to snake around your waist.

→ “..you scared me..” “...im really sorry, babe.”

→ you lifted your gaze to meet Sakusa’s, lifting your hands up to cup his face. brushing a few strands of hair away from his view sending a quick peck onto his lips. “you don’t need to apologize anymore Omi. you did enough already..”

→ “A-and you’re drenched! Baby, you’re gonna get sick-” you blinked, noticing how flat his hair was from the rain that couldn’t reach you both from the small roof over the entrance of the cafe. 

→ “..i-i’ll be fine..” the soft stutter Sakusa made noted he was embarrassed about the thought, “..i’m glad your the one not gonna be sick though.” he muttered before softly pecking your lips.

→ “Honey..” you sighed, taking your hands in his before heading inside the building. “..lets just get something to drink to warm us up, ‘kay? then we can head back.”

→ “I-m.. paying aren’t I-..”

→ “Yes. Yes you are. A treat after a bad tiring day!”

→ “..you just want sweets-”

→ “Shut it Kiyoomi.”

#rainy-days;- 🌁 #at-dusk;- 🌆 #folder 📁;- 𝙷𝚊𝚒𝚔𝚢𝚞𝚞 #daishou x male reader #atsumu x male reader #sakusa x male reader #atsumu miya x male reader #sakusa kiyoomi x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #hq x male reader #x male reader #daishou suguru x reader #daishou x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #daishou angst #atsumu angst #sakusa fluff #fluff to angst #haikyuu angst

[forcefullyawake]

Hello! This is for @ketslketslketsl claws and creampies collab.

Summary: It’s not every day a pretty girl gives you her number, or pursues you so much. Sure, it looks like Mikasa is hiding something, but how bad could it be?

Pairings: Mikasa x Reader, Monster! Eren x Reader

Warnings: non human sex, noncon, violence, tentacles, gaslighting

WC: 4.8k

You look like an idiot.

There’s really no way around it. The dress your friend had all but forced you into is a little too tight, the straps on it digging into your plump flesh a little too much. The color on your lips is a little too red, the makeup on your eyes a little heavier than you’d ever done before. All of this to stand out, to show to the party at large that not only were you available but you were looking- something you hadn’t gone out of your way to advertise before. Your friends say that you look hot before you leave, but you think you look like you’re trying to hard.

It’s especially obvious when you’re handed a red solo cup as soon as you walk into the door, and immediately find a place on the wall to people watch. Nobody gives you a second glance (well, maybe a couple do, but at the resting frown on your face nobody gives you a third or tries to strike up a conversation). All of the makeup in the world can’t overcome the fact that you just don’t like talking to new people. Hell, even the friends you came with tonight basically adopted you into their friend group your first week of college, instead of you engaging them.

People filter through the home all around you, some dancing where there’s open space, grinding on each other to a low thumping beat that reverberates through your chest. You have to shift on the uncomfortable heels you’re wearing, trying to subtly grind your thighs together. It’s not like you don’t want that- it’s not like you don’t want to throw caution to the wind and disappear upstairs with some pretty boy or gorgeous girl. It’s just that you don’t know how- it’s like you missed that lesson in school, too wrapped up in a book to learn to relate to people who didn’t exist on a page.

Your mother says it’s not too late to get out there and learn about these things, but it feels that way sometimes. In times like these, it’s hard to gather up the courage to strike up a conversation, even when you’re on your second drink. At least you think it’s your second drink- whatever is in your cup is red and fruity, and it doesn’t taste like there’s much alcohol in it, which even in your limited experience you know is a sure sign there’s probably a whole bottle or two of something in it. It makes your head swim a little, it’s nice in a way but it mostly makes you sleepy.

Maybe you can call an Uber. You can find one of your friends to let them know you’re leaving, call an Uber and go to sleep at an almost decent hour. Let them have all the fun, and the hangovers, while you get a solid eight hours of sleep. At least it’s the weekend, and you have two days of freedom before your job takes up your time again. Your eyes start slowly scanning the crowd, looking for anybody you know- Annie, maybe, she’s tall and her blonde hair sticks out. Or Reiner, the lone male in your group, but knowing him he’s snuck off with Bertolt the first chance they got. Lucky bastard.

“You look lonely,” Someone says to your right, and when you look over there’s a girl standing there. She’s a couple inches taller than you, slender but the sleeves on her shirt are short enough you can see her muscles too. Black hair, pulled back into a ponytail, a dainty gold chain resting on the pale skin of her neck with a little ‘M’ on it. Startling grey eyes that are doing their level best to bore into your skin. Definitely not the type to talk to you.

“Just trying to find my friends,” You say, but it mostly comes out as a whisper. She leans forward a little more, so you repeat yourself, a little louder. There’s a slight edge to her smile when she realizes you’re alone, you think, something about it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It must be a trick of the light, though, because the next moment it’s gone.

“It might be easier to find them if you’re in the crowd,” She says, murmuring right next to your ear, her breath dancing over your skin, “They could be upstairs, even. I could help you.”

You mean to say no, thanks but no thanks, you’ll be on your way. Your parents talked to you about stranger danger, and you’re on the wrong side of tipsy but what comes out of your mouth is, “Yes, please.” She smiles, victorious and promising.

“I’m Mikasa,” She tells you, putting her hand low on your back as you move away from the wall. The way the dress is designed, all wrapping layers, means there’s a gap in the fabric on your lower back, just enough that you can feel her hand on your skin, cool against you despite how warm it is in the room. You give her your name, watching as she repeats it to make sure she has it correct, eyes rapt on the way her lips move around it.

She doesn’t guide you upstairs, but closer into the makeshift dance floor. It feels like a scene out of one of the romance novels you have tucked away on your bookshelf at home. People seem to part around you, time stands still, all the cliche’s come to life. Her hands are on your hips as she moves behind you, steady and squeezing into you just enough to make your heart race. Mikasa isn’t especially broad but you feel remarkably safe with her right behind you.

“See anybody you know?” She has to lean down to speak in your ear, and between the alcohol and how close she is, you’re not sure you would even recognize your own face. You can feel her moving in time with the music, your own hips starting to sway with hers. Your eyes drift shut, letting her hands wander over your sides, skimming up to right under your breasts before the make a trail like fire back down to your hips. Maybe this isn’t so bad, you think, as you let yourself turn in her arms, her thigh moving between yours.

You’d think it’s a dream, that you did go home when you thought to, and your mind was wandering but the pleasure that courses through your when her jeans rub against your clothed cunt feels too good to be a dream.

“You do this often?” She asks, drawing you back to earth. All you can do is shake your head, arms coming up to wrap around her neck. She laughs at that, mouth forming words you can’t quite make out when you hear your name being called.

“I think your friends have found you,” Mikasa smiles, taking a step back as she eyes someone over your shoulder. Your hands drift back to yourself, helpless in the air before she catches one, grabbing a pen out of her back pocket to scribble something on the back of your hand. She presses a kiss on it when she’s done, giving you a warm smile.

“Call me,” She says, before being swallowed into the bodies behind her. On your hand there’s a phone number. You hold your hand close to your chest as your friends surround you.

“There you are!” Annie hisses at you, wrapping a protective arm around you, “What were you doing with her?”

“Mikasa?” You ask, glancing behind you like you would still be able to see her, “She was helping me look for you. You left me.”

“She looked like she wanted to eat you alive,” Reiner huffs, Bertolt nodding in agreement. You roll your eyes at them.

“Maybe you’re just seeing things,” You suggest, pulling away from them, “Either way I think I’m going to head out. You know this isn’t my scene.”

“I’ll drive you,” Annie says, looking over your shoulder, “Armin is ready to go too.”

“Thanks,” You walk with Annie and her boyfriend to her hatchback, stretching out your legs in the backseat. You ignore their hand holding and longing looks. Clearly, when Annie said Armin was ready to go, she didn’t just mean home. At least the drive home is short. You say your goodbyes and make your way into your apartment, locking the door behind you before getting ready for bed.

Normally you would be tired, but there’s a thrumming in your veins, an undercurrent of excitement at the number written on your skin. You enter it into your phone, debating on sending Mikasa a text, but you hold off, not wanting to seem overeager. Still, you toss and turn, your skin feeling overly sensitive, each brush of your sheets feeling like the brush of fingers.

With a sigh you give up on sleep, rolling onto your back, one hand trailing down your neck while the other pushes up your sleep shirt, fingers skimming up, cupping one breast. You let your eyes close, imaging someone else touching you, Mikasa’s fingers being the ones to curl around your neck, her fingers tweaking at your nipples until they’ve pebbled. You picture her lips, her tongue, when you spread your lips, fingers making tight circles around your clit. It’s not you touching yourself, but her, playing your body like a fiddle until you cum, quicker than you can remember in recent memory, hard and fast, one hand smothering down your moans from your neighbors.

Maybe it should concern you though- no matter how hard you concentrate on Mikasa, picturing her above you, or between your legs, you can seem to recall the color of her eyes.

They only look red in your memory.

Dawn rises bright and early, pulling you from your sleep. You wake up with your heart racing, pounding in your chest. You don’t remember much of your nightmare, only that something was chasing you, nipping at your heels as you ran for your life. With a shudder you roll out of bed, thoughtlessly grabbing your phone to take it with you to the bathroom.

You gather courage as you brush last night out of your teeth, compose a text while washing your face, and hit send right before you step into the shower. It’s nothing special, a quick text that lets Mikasa know it’s you. Your phone balances precariously too close to your shower, music playing steadily out of it when the sound cuts off- your ringtone starts to play. You’re getting a call.

Grabbing your towel from where it rests you dry your hand, half your body out of the shower as you take the call without checking who it is. Nobody calls anymore, you assume it’s an emergency.

“Hello?” You try not to sound too panicked. The voice on the other end laughs, low and throaty.

“I thought I said to call me?” Mikasa teases you, can you feel your skin heating up for a reason that has nothing to do with the shower. There’s no way to turn the water off from where you are now, not without getting your phone soaked, and you’re sure she can hear exactly where you are. “Though, maybe I should give you a call back.”

“Give me ten seconds, don’t hang up,” You say, not listening for her reply as you place the phone back onto the counter. Reaching over to twist the shower off, ignoring the soap left on your body to grab your towel and wrap it around you properly. It’s not enough but it’ll have to do.

“Still there?” You ask as you make yourself comfortable on the bed. Your sheets are gonna get wet but it’s worth it. Your skin is cold where the air hits it, but you don’t wanna hang up, not yet.

“Of course,” Mikasa breathes, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I know it’s a bit old fashioned to call people now, but I find it’s a much better way of communicating with people, don’t you?”

No, you don’t. You get flustered and stutter over your words, so you much prefer texting where you can make sure you say what you want to, but you certainly can’t tell Mikasa that and so- “Yeah, I think so too. It’s hard to read tone over text.”

That part isn’t a lie, at least. Mikasa’s laugh is like honey in your ears. “You don’t have to lie, I can put you out of your misery now, if you’d like. Send some texts with the letter u as you.” Her teasing doesn’t sting you, not even a little bit.

“Or we could just meet up?” You suggest, breath catching in your throat as you wait for her reply. It could be that you’ve completely misread the situation, maybe she’s just being nice, maybe she doesn’t like girls, maybe-

“Give me an address and I’ll pick you up tonight at 7,” Mikasa replies, so smooth and confident it makes your head swim a little. You rattle off your address and she tells you to dress casual before hanging up. You have all day to get ready but you start immediately, drying your hair and styling it before picking out what you hope is a casual enough outfit- a soft white sweater over a sundress patterned with strawberries. A few swipes of pink makeup later and you’re set.

Now all you have to do is wait.

It feels like the hours manage to double themselves, or even triple themselves. A whole lifetime of waiting in one day until you manage to lose track of time and doze off on the couch. Three sharp knocks on your door startle you awake, sending you flying towards the door.

“I’m awake!” You practically shout, throwing the door open. “I mean. Hello. Hi. Can we do that again?”

“No, it was cute,” Mikasa says, smiling at you. You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, trying to ignore it. You’re not sure if you should invite her in but she solves that problem for you. “Are you ready? The place I’m taking you isn’t that far away.”

“Just let me get my shoes on,” You say, quickly turning to slide your feet into the first pair of sandals you see, strappy ones that make you trip if you’re not careful. But it’s fine. You know you’ll be careful tonight.

Mikasa leads you to her car, a silver hatchback. The interior looks spotless, and there’s an almost overwhelming smell of cleaner permeating through the car. You buckle yourself in before looking at her.

“Got it detailed just for me?” You think your voice is teasing but Mikasa stiffens, inhaling sharply as she looks at you. Her reaction takes you aback. “Whoa. Sorry. Teasing!” Mikasa relaxes almost imperceptibly at that, but you can see her shoulders sag down a little.

“Sorry, normally nobody notices how clean a car is,” She says, “Took me off guard. You’re very perceptive.”

“A lifetime of being a wallflower,” You reply without thinking, “You get good at people watching, all that jazz.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” She teases you back now, bringing a smile to your face. She’s right, the place she takes you isn’t that far away and the drive passes smoothly as she pulls into the parking lot of your towns oldest diner. You sit up straighter in your seat- you haven’t been here since you were a kid.

“It’s a little old fashioned, I know,” Mikasa says as she gets out, and you must be distracted because the next thing you know she’s opening your door for you, and there’s no way she moved that fast. “But the ice cream floats here are to die for.”

“Oh no, this is great!” You exclaim, walking next to her into the diner. She asks for a booth in the corner, something you didn’t know people did outside of your romance novels.

“Order whatever you want,” Mikasa says, barely giving the menu a glance. “It’s my treat.” Your mother didn’t raise you to take advantage of someone’s generosity even on a date so you order a small combination meal- though you do opt to upgrade your drink to an ice cream float at Mikasa’s insistence you try one.

“What do you do for work?” You ask, trying not to cringe at your attempt at small talk while you wait for your food to come out.

“I’m.. uh,” Mikasa hesitates now, looking anywhere but your face. It takes her a fraction of a second too long to answer, just enough time to make you frown when she continues, “I’m a caregiver.” Even to you it sounds like a half truth, but you let it slide, not wanting to be too pushy on a first date.

“Oh?” You say, shifting in your seat, “How did you get started in that?”

“It just kind of.. picked me, I suppose.” Mikasa still isn’t meeting your eyes and you figure it’s time for a change of subject.

“How do you know Historia?” There, that should be a safe question. She was at Historia’s party last night, after all.

“We were friends way back in elementary school,” Mikasa explains, clearly relieved to have moved to something different. “I live one neighborhood over from her, so we’ve already just hung out together.” That makes sense to you- Annie has known Historia since high school, and Annie seemed to know of Mikasa.

“Got any embarrassing stories?” You know you probably shouldn’t ask but you can’t resist. The Historia you know is almost regal in nature, prim and perfect at all times. You can’t even imagine her as a child.

“Oh, do I ever,” Mikasa says, voice a little lower as she leans towards you, launching into a story from her childhood. You hardly notice your food appearing, and then barely taste it as you eat, hanging on Mikasa’s every word. She’s funny and engaging, and it’s not until you hear the pointed cough of the man behind the register that you realize it’s closing time for them.

“Yeah, Zeke, we’re going,” Mikasa says with a roll of her eyes as she pays him. He huffs at her a little bit but soon enough the two of you are sitting inside of her car, an awkward silence growing. What do you say now? You don’t want this date to end but would it be to forward to invite her over? Or will she invite you over? You don’t get too far into your thoughts when the car starts moving.

“Do you wanna come over?” She asks, the car sitting long at a stop sign. She’s looking dead ahead, fingers gripping the wheel so hard it turns white. She’s just as nervous as you are, you realize.

“Yes, please,” You manage to breathe out before continuing on, not wanting to sound rude, “If you want me to, that is.”

“Trust me, I want you to,” Mikasa replies, something laced in her voice but she doesn’t relax at all on the drive to her place. The drive is quiet, tense in a way you don’t understand, but there’s still an electric current in your veins as her house comes into view. It’s one neighborhood over from where you were last night, just like she said, a small place that looks like a two bedroom.

“I got it from my parents,” She explains as she leads you inside, locking the door behind you. “When they passed.” You’re not sure what to say at that but the moment passes. Mikasa leads you to the couch.

Now what?

“So,” You start, barely getting the word out before her lips are pressed against yours, pushing you back onto the couch. Her mouth is firm on yours, insistent. Her hands are on you, sliding down your sides, teasing your thighs under the hem of your dress. Her mouth moves to your neck, biting and kissing and sucking her way down.

It’s a lot, almost too much. You want to tell her to stop, to slow down a little but Mikasa presses forward, your dress sliding up as she slides down between your legs. The shadows on the wall dance in a weird way, that doesn’t seem to move with the way the lights are. You can’t voice anything as Mikasa’s mouth covers your pussy, mouthing at it over your underwear. Her spit wets the fabric, her tongue dragging over your clit, making your eyes roll back. Your fingers curl into fists at your side, legs spreading wider to accommodate her shoulders- which you realize seem too wide now.

You’re so close when your eyes finally open and you look down.

Mikasa isn’t between your legs.

Whatever’s taken her place isn’t human, the face looks human enough but his body (and he’s definitely a him- you think you almost recognize him) blends in with the shadow, tentacles sliding up behind him, reaching out for you.

“Hello,” The monster says, ignoring the way you scream. You manage to twist free, catching him by surprise as your hand shoots out to scratch right at his eyes. You’re on your feet, running as you hear two voices call out your name.

But your shoes, your stupid strappy sandals- your ankle rolls in them and then something grabs you before you fall completely, your head slamming against the front door as everything does dark.

“Wake up,” A harsh voice commands you. It’s a growl, in human and it seems to be inside of your head. You ignore it, trying to roll over, thinking you’re dreaming but you can’t move. That makes your eyes shoot open.

“You’re up!” The monster is looming over you, using it’s many tentacles to hold you down. Your clothes are gone, the cold air biting at your skin. You’re not even sure how it’s this cold inside of a bedroom, one that looks to be incredibly decorated as well. There’s a chair in the corner, a plush blanket under you. It almost looks like a hotel room.

“Mikasa brought you just for me,” It tells you , leaning in close, his tongue coming out to lick at your throat. “You’re so sweet, I can’t wait to play with you, can’t wait to eat you right up!”

“Let- let go of me!” You shout, trying to make your voice as loud as possible. Maybe a neighbor will hear you. Maybe the monster doesn’t like loud noises. “Mikasa!”

“You can scream all you want, nobody is coming to save you,” The monster seems to delight in the way his cruel words make you cry. “It’s just me and you.” It pauses. “Maybe I’ll let Mikasa play with you a little too, before I kill you. She really liked you, she almost didn’t want to give you to me.”

He leans closer, speaking into your ear, rancid breath sweeping over you, “But I insisted. And she won’t ever deny me.”

“Eren,” Mikasa’s voice comes from the door way, “There’s no need to be cruel.” She’s not looking at you at all, looking rapturously at the monster on top of you. She looks in awe, in love even.

And not even slightly afraid of him.

“You know they taste better when they’re afraid, Mikasa, how many times do I have to tell you that?” The monster, Eren, snaps at her, hardly giving her a second glance. A tentacle creeps up your leg, twisting around it, the tip grazing over your cunt. A shudder of revulsion runs through you when it taps your clit, sending a spark of pleasure through you. “It’s better when they fight it. It always is.”

“Whatever you say, Eren,” Mikasa gives a sigh, taking up the seat you saw before. She’s wearing sweat pants now, a sports bra, looking like she’s just came in from working out. There’s a light sweat on her skin.

“Going to watch this time?” Eren asks, shifting so he’s to your side now, his tentacles holding you open, putting you on display. You try to close your legs but he’s too strong, his grip too tight. “Normally you don’t. Is this one special?”

“You know as well as I do that she’s just like the rest of them,” Mikasa says, and that, more than anything is what breaks you. A sob tears from your throat, as reality comes crashing in. You’re nothing more than a mark- she was never really into you at all.

Of course, you think, why would anybody like her be into someone like you?

More of his tentacles come up, holding your pussy open to their gazes. Despite her harsh words Mikasa has a hard time looking away from it. Eren’s tentacles are softer than they look as one circles your clit, drawing wetness from you no matter how much you tell yourself you don’t want this.

The tip of the tentacle is insistent though, circling your clit with more pressure until your hips jump up, chasing after it when Eren moves it back. He laughs, mocking and mean, before returning to his ministrations. He’s not soft in the way he touches you, one tentacle coming up to start to slowly push it’s way inside of you. It’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken before and it hurts.

“Stop,” You whine, hips twisting away from him as much as you can, “It hurts, please, stop!”

“I’ll stop when I’ve had my fill,” Eren replies, his voice mockingly sweet as the tentacle rams into you, splitting you open. The one circling your clit has left, leaving you reeling as your mind focuses in on the pain. The pace he sets is brutal, and his tentacle doesn’t feel like a cock or any of your toys. It squirms inside of you, pushing upwards along your front wall until-

“Fuck!” You wail now, thrashing on the bed. Eren smiles, and Mikasa gives a little whimper. You manage to look at her only to see her sat low in the chair, her own legs spread, with one of her hands down the front of her sweats, clearly touching herself while the other works at one of her nipples. “Please!”

“I knew you would beg,” Eren sounds delighted, “They always beg!” Your words seem to be what he was waiting for- the tentacle returns to your clit while the other attacks that spongy spot inside of you. You’re crying outright now, absolutely sobbing with- with everything, really. Your cries are of pleasure, of pain, of fear, of ecstasy. You cum harder than you ever have in your entire life.

But Eren doesn’t stop.

He keeps going, now moving to to lap up your juices with his tongue, cleaning you as one orgasm trips into the next, and then another. You can’t tell if you ever really come down from one. It’s too much, it hurts again, and you don’t want this- you know you don’t want this, you want him to stop and-

You pass out, somewhere after what you think is an hour, if not more. Your mind blissfully goes blank, locking you away behind a door, away from your fractured reality.

People are talking above you, in quiet, hushed tones.

“We can’t keep her.”

“You said you just wanted a snack tonight, Eren. Not.. not that.”

“She’ll go to the police.”

“They won’t believe her, you know that. They didn’t believe Historia.”

“Historia was a child.”

“I’ll convince her she fell asleep or something, you know I can.”

“Fine. But Mikasa?”

“Yes?”

“Next time she’s mine.”

You don’t hear anything after that.

“Hey,” Mikasa is by your side. You’re back on her couch, clothes in place. You jerk up, away from her, looking for signs of what happened but there’s nothing. You don’t see any bruising. You feel sore between your legs, but nothing that would match what you went through. “You fell asleep. After we fucked.”

That’s not true, you know it isn’t true but the only other explanation doesn’t make sense. Monsters aren’t real. You weren’t… assaulted by one. Mikasa has to be right.

“Oh,” You struggle to sit up, feeling sluggish. “I’m sorry. I’m normally not like that.” The smile on Mikasa’s face is warm, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I think I need to go home. I don’t feel so good. Can you take me?”

“Sure, of course,” Mikasa sounds relieved. That’s good, you think, she’s not mad at you. It must have been awkward for her when you fell asleep, had that nightmare. It felt so real. She helps you gather up your things. One of the straps on your sandal is broken. You’re not sure how but it’s a short walk to her car, you can go barefoot.

She starts it up, already talking to you about meeting up again, maybe next week if you want? You tell her it sounds nice, that you had a really good time tonight. You can’t tell how she’s lying through her teeth.

You give her home one last look as she pulls the car away.

If you didn’t know any better, you would think the shadow in the window had a face, that it waved at you.

But you know better.

Monsters aren’t real.

#collabs #mikasa x reader #eren x reader #noncon tw #gaslighting tw #violence tw #non human sex tw

[simluvbot]

Enhypen’s reaction to when you punch a guy (hyung line)

a/n: this was a request ! I said I could upload this a few days ago but due to it being my birthday and it currently being exam week I didn’t have the time to edit this so that’s why I uploaded without proofreading at first TT // ok I finished editing 😁 Jake and sunghoon’s one is so bad don’t read it pls sorry

Although as this fic includes violence I only wrote for hyung like members and not maknae line, I hope you understand

Warnings: descriptions of physical violence (punching), mentions of being in a crowd, mentions of wanting to harm others (thoughts)

+ note: this is a work of fiction and in no way am I encouraging violence ! I wrote this in a way that I thought would match the member’s personalities although this is definitely not a true depiction of the enhypen members ^^

Lee heeseung

You and heeseung had been in the library studying together for your exams, and although you both had luckily reserved a secluded spot in the library that was both quiet and spacious for your revision, it wasn’t soon before some inconsiderate assholes had decided to occupy your desk too.

There were only two of them, yet they still managed to take up over half of the table whereas you and heeseung only had one small portion to yourselves

Plus they were very noisy, and the only librarian being on the seconf floor didnt help either  😐

You and your boyfriend had both made several attempts to sheepishly ask them if they could please quieten down before the librarian came back and kicked them out and more importantly so you mad heeseung could focus ??

But they simply ignored you, paying attention to the… online games ?? They had came to the library to play???

You were starting to get very annoyed, but decided to bite your tongue and instead have you and heeseung focus on your work

But it was when one of them spilt their coffee on heeseung’s expensive   textbook and even laugh afterwards which is what you decided that you finally had it

You don’t know how it happened, but soon you were standing up and landed a solid punch on the guy’s face

Heeseung was really shocked, just as much as you at your brash movements

And he would be even more concerned for you when he sees the person you punched egret aggressive to you and start getting close in your face.

“Hey man, that’s enough.” Despite heeseung’s shock, it didn’t take him longer than second before he stood up and grabbed at the man’s arm easily after he got up close you you intimidatingly, heeseung’s strong grip preventing the stranger from hitting you back and you swear you’ve never heard heeseung’s voice so deep and authoritative before as he told the man to sit down and focus on his stupid game

Due to your own surprise at your actions, you barely payed attention to what was going on as heeseung had a polite (on his end..) whisper-argument with the two guys, packing his things up as well as yours before grabbing your hand and safely leading you out of the library

You two ended up going home where he cleaned at your busted knuckles gently, sad at the fact that you got hurt and overall bummed out at two guys who got you so worked up and that his go-to textbook got ruined ):

“Baby, why did you do that, Hm? We could have just left to another place. You could have gotten hurt if they fought back!”

More than anything, your boyfriend was upset at the idea of you potentially getting more than just a few cuts and bruises on your knuckles, and so you promised heeseung right then and there that you wouldn’t do it again

After both of you got changed into your pyjamas, you and heeseung had set up your own study area in the dining room table, where you both continued with your study session for the rest of the day, with lots of cuddles afterwards as a reward!

Park Jongseong

You and jay were walking back home and it was already dark outside as you were both walking through the streets.

Approaching a heavily crowded place outside a club which included several people under the influences, it was pretty hard for you both to squeeze through the crowd as you were walking past.

They literally were spilling onto the road.. :/

“Jay.” You gasped when you lost hold of his hand on yours, leaving you in the idle of the crowd alone. There were so many bodies around you and as you got quickly pushed to against a wall from the movements of the people you found it hard to make your way through the people who were much taller than you.

You were starting to get anxious and when someone came directly in front of you, literally ignoring you asking for them to move and plainly blocking you for no reason you started to get frustrated, adrenaline in your veins as you lost your boyfriend and wanted to get out asap before you started fo panic.

You had asked the person to please move out of the way so you could pass through and they even had the audacity to look at you and make eye contact — only to simply ignore you when you asked for the nth time for them to scoot.

So, with your anxiety peaking and frustration soaring, you punched them hard on their face as soon as they turned around, and when they went stumbling backwards you finally had enough space to escape from your trapped position against the wall.

Jay had finally found you and was right there a few steps in front of you, and you were almost reaching him when a hand pulled you back suddenly, slamming you against the wall aggressively and leading you to hit your head hard.

Jay saw the whole thing. and he was livid

He shouted at the guy and grabbed his hands in his, pushing him so he was off of you once again. Jay was so angry he literally thought he could see red. How dare a man not just refuse to let someone obviously distressed through, but to touch you and hurt you?

You had to calm him down and urged hin for you both to leave before the stranger started getting aggressive because he was already shouting at you both and some heads were turning 😟

He eventually listened to you when he saw your glossed eyes and you clutching at your aching knuckles, so gently grabbing your unhurt hand in his he swiftly led you both away from the crowd in less than a minute, face fallen and heart aching ah ):

“Hey, let me look at you. are you okay? Did that bastard hurt you a lot?”

You could tell he was still so agitated with what happened, checking at your bruised knuckles and looking a the back of your head that was starting to form a lump from the force of being pushed against the wall earlier.

“I’m so sorry, I should have held tighter. I should have brought some security guards with us today.”

You had to tell him it was okay and you defended yourself and the guy was just a jerk and can’t hurt you anymore.

Jay was still so sad at the fact that you got hurt all because he let you go accidentally for one second ): seeing you so anxious and literally in pain made him feel so bad.

He showered you in many kisses once you both got home and you had a relaxing bath together, as well as helping treat your bruise , promising for this to never happen again 🥺

Sim jaeyun

You were hanging out with your old classmates as a reunion and it was getting close to the time where Jake had said he would pick you up to take you home.

Your classmates had asked you if you had a partner and when you told them that you did, they all got instantly curious.

You of course got so excited and was ecstatic to flaunt off your talented and handsome boyfriend to them :D

So you showed them a picture of Jake, however the reaction that you were met with was not what you were expecting.

Your classmates were silent for a few moments as they looked at the photo, before one of them eventually asked,

“Oh, so that’s the guy you’re dating?”

You could see two of them exchange glances for a reason you could not possibly fathom and your heart fell to your stomach when you saw them stifing their laughter.

“What?” You asked, frowning as you looked at the photo you showed them on your phone. What was wrong with the photo?

“Oh.. nothing it’s just.. well.. he just doesn’t look like the best option..”

“It’s pretty cute actually. Of course you would end up with a guy that looks like he matches you in social level.. he’s probably a loser.”

You were so confused and the comments kept coming as they talked amongst themselves, openly criticising Jake for no reason.

You gotta admit, you never were the closest my with your classmates in the first place but still decided to agree to the meet-up for old times’ sake.

You could put up with their side glances towards you ever since you arrived because you barely cared, but when they dared talk about your boyfriend like that??

You were so angry you felt yourself almost shaking.

“Hey.” You said, standing up abruptly from your seat on the picnic table at the park you guys were hanging out at.

“Why are you insulting my boyfriend like that. What is wrong with you?”

Once again, they simply laughed in your face, seeming to think of your reaction as hilarious.

You were gonna start crying soon because the rage boiling up inside of you was reaching to the point that you were finding it hard to contain it and breathe deeply to keep calm and not cause a scene.

But they kept insulting Jake, liking watching you get angry under their gazes.

One of your classmates in particular kept offering comments, too many and you had enough - you snapped.

You punched them square in the face.

And you had done so just when you noticed Jake exiting his car right outside of the park, when it was obvious that he saw you.

You didn’t care, and in fact you started laughing almost hysterically in front of your classmates at their shocked expressions.

You were in tears because the person you punched started having a nosebleed… to you it was hilarious and you were in your own world trying to catch your breath from laughing so much until you heard your name being called.

“Y/n.” Jake said worriedly, finally reaching yoy and placing a hand on your shoulder.

He led you to his car, and after you both left and as you sat silently in the passenger seat having calmed down, you were staring to feel awkward with all the little glances Jake threw towards you ever so often.

He didn’t ask or push, instead just remaining silent and gripping at your hand you had punched your classmate with, thumb swirling over your red knuckles as he stared down at them with a bothered expression.

“Sorry.” You finally said, giving him a sheepish smile. “They just kept talking so badly about you when they found out I had a boyfriend.. I couldn’t resist.”

Jake if anything was a bit disappointed that you had reacted violently, and he was silent for a few seconds as he sat unknowing of what to say, frowning and licking his lips like a confused puppy trying to work out a solution.

“Please just don’t do it again. Violence is never okay, you should have just left. I don’t want my y/nnie getting hurt or getting into fights because of me, okay?”

You both drove back and cuddled a lot on the sofa, and Jake made sure to give your knuckles several kisses, his heart aching with the memory of what happened );

Park Sunghoon

“Ha, if it isn’t the ugly y/n.”

You bit your lip as you heard the familiar laugh of the rink bullies behind you, plainly mocking you.

“Still friends with that weirdo, park sunghoon?”

Ever since the members in the same extracurricular figure skating club had found out you were friends with sunghoon, the ice boy that they liked to torment for reasons forever unknown to you, you had soon too fallen victim to their evil teasing.

“I told you to stop making fun of sunghoon like that.” You said plainly, sighing as you sat down on a bench to undo your skates.

The group members laughed and would just not leave you alone, even going as far as sitting next to you and entering your personal space by constantly poking at your sides sharply.

And you swear to god the temptation of slashing open their faces with the bottom of your skates was very tempting—

But no, you had told sunghoon that you would meet him at the entrance of the rink to walk home together after your individual practices; and you were already running late.

“Where you going? To go see sunghoon? Huh? Go tell him that we messed with his skates so he fails in the competition.”

Your hands froze as you were tying your converses. You looked up, meeting the leader’s gaze.

“What?” You had enough. You could never understand why they had sunghoon as their punching bag. Sunghoon was used to it, not one to start arguments and the type to only keep to himself when things like this happen.

You just went along with it and followed his lead in ignoring your other club members, but them going this far to try to sabotage the performance sunghoon had been training months for? You had enough of simply doing nothing in retaliation to their bullying.

Standing up abruptly, they stood back at youe sudden movement, but not quick enough for being able to dodge the punch you swung directly on the nose of the nearest one in front of you.

“Y/n?”

Looking over to the doorframe of the changing room — there was park sunghoon.

“Sunghoon.” You said in shock, glancing over towards the group in front of you as they started guffawing at the sides of the person you punched

“Sorry, I got caught up with-“

You were just making your way speedily over towards hoon when you were pulled back by the wrist painfully.

You gasped when the force that you were let go of led you to be flung over to one side and practically topple onto the sticky matte floor.

Wincing as you landed on your wrist, you hissed at the fresh pain and the loud crack that came with it.

It was silent as everyone paused, having heard your wrist snapping as much as you had felt the pain of it.

“Y/n!” Sunghoon was at your side in an instant, pushing his way cut though the others standing around you in shock.

His pretty face was frowned with worry, eyes wide as he came in front of you, assessing your wrist without touching it.

“Let’s get out of here.” He scooped you up, and if you weren’t busy trying to breathe in and out deeply to calm yourself down after your injury, you would have been surprised at the skate bullies making space for a clear path Sunghoon to carry you through.

From all your time of knowing the talented ice boy, your skating partner and friend — you had never really seen him show much emotion apart from the small smiles and laughs he gave only to you. His long legs were able to stride quickly to a bench outside as he called an ambulance for you, a distressed expression as he meticulously cared towards you.

And gee if you breaking your wrist didn’t hurt like hell, but after all, did you regret that day? No. You finally were able to stand up to the bullies for the first time, and even more importantly — that moment had started the beginning of a new chapter for you and Sunghoon.

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #kpop imagines

[myckicade]

Prompt: OMG. Love the Taza imagine! If you're OK with that, would you be OK with a Bishop one? I'd love to see him jealous!

A/N: Uhm. Yeah. So. This is now a thing. This one is a little different, in more ways than one. (I have a feeling I’ll be doing a second part). I should warn about some ugly language in this one, just in case. I want to wish you a happy read, and to apologize, at the same time.

Title: Bottom of the Bottle

Teaser: Your world has gone on, as normal. You just haven’t included Bishop in it.

Two days.

It’s been two days, Bishop reminds himself. Two days since he’s heard from you. Two days since you left his bed, his home, his life. It’s dramatic as hell, and he knows so, but the bottom of his bottle is whispering ugly thoughts in his face.

(Y/n)’s cheating.

(Y/n)’s dead.

No, (y/n)’s definitely fucking another man.

Groaning, Bishop pulls the bottle away from his mouth, and scrubs his free hand over his face. “This is insane,” he growls, snatching his phone from his nightstand.

Two. Fucking. Days.

Opening up his recent calls, Bishop stares at the screen. He’s made fifteen calls, in the last forty-eight hours. Two to Taza. One to Marcus. The other twelve all have your name on them. All twelve, no answers. All twelve, unreturned voicemails. He scowls. He’s sent more text messages than that, even. Those haven’t been returned, yet, either.

Fuck, he has it so fucking bad.

You’re fine, he knows that much. He’s been by your apartment, more than once. The cat is fed, and content. Litter box has been changed. There are clothes all over your bedroom floor, coffee mugs on the kitchen counter. Mail hasn’t piled up. Your world has gone on, as normal.

You just haven’t included Bishop in it.

He doesn’t understand it. What went wrong? He can’t remember being that big a dick to you, before you left. He’d teased you about the smudge of mascara under your eyes, from the night before, but that was it. You’d given him a kiss, and one of your brightest smiles. There was no indication, not that Bishop can see, that you wouldn’t be coming back.

See you soon. That’s what you’d told him. See you soon.

Forgive him. He doesn’t consider fifty-four hours, and some change, to be soon.

Heaving a sigh, Bishop abandons his stare-off with his call records in favour of a swig of vodka. He can’t call, again, he just can’t. It’s getting pathetic. He’s getting pathetic. He can’t remember the last time he was like this, even before his divorce. Lovers come, and lovers go, in his life. That’s just a part of the life. But, you… God, you’re something else, entirely. You don’t intermingle with the Club, very often, but there’s no tension (that he’s aware of) over how he earns a living. It’s refreshing, he has to admit, both halves of his being playing so nicely, together. (It’s so damn close to harmony, he won’t look at it, too closely, for fear of disappointment). He can work the whole day away, and come home pissed off, and worn out, and ruin every damned plan you have for the night… And, somehow, you adapt. You. You. Bishop swears, there’s nothing you won’t alter. A nicely-set table becomes plates in front of the television. A night out drinking becomes shots at home, cards and conversation filling the spaces between. And, on those rare nights he’s too tired to pleasure you? He hasn’t heard a peep about it, by way of complaint. You just accept that he’s going to shower, and hit the hay, and that’s the end of it. Sometimes, Bishop feels like he takes advantage of your good nature.

Oh, good nature, hell, you’re a fucking Saint.

He really should have seen this coming, this all blowing up in his face.

Is that it, though? Has he really driven you away, by not paying attention to your needs? He hasn’t seen the signs. You’re such a damned sweetheart, there probably haven’t been any signs to miss, at all. You’ve just smiled, and smooched, and carried on as normal, until it got to be too much.

That’s it. He’s forced you away, and that’s why you’re ignoring him, and fucking another man.

A low roar forces its way from Bishop’s throat, and, a second later, glass is shattering against the bedroom wall. Shards are sticking up out of the carpet, vodka streaking down the wallpaper. Fuck, he hates that wallpaper. He can’t remember why he put it up, to begin with. He’s been asking you to pick a colour to paint over it with, any colour that isn’t white, and you’ve been finding it in yourself, each and every time, to remind him why he shouldn’t paint over wallpaper. Sometimes, he brings it up, just to make you laugh. Just to hear the explanation, on repeat. Now, he’s never going to hear it, again.

Fuck, he needs a fucking cigarette.

And, of fucking course, the pack is empty. Crumpling the paper in his hand, Bishop tosses it to the carpet, beside the growing vodka patch. He’s in no condition to be driving, a rarity, these days. (He won’t admit it, under pain of death, but he’s been drinking considerably less with you around, too). Probably why he’s two steps from sloshed, now. He should just stay home, yes, he should. There’s no need for cigarettes, not at this hour. He should keep himself calm, and go to bed. Wait for your call.

Standing to his feet, Bishop grabs his keys, and his wallet, and heads for the door. Without you around, what is he saving himself for?

*

Well… Okay, so, that’s decidedly not the convenience store.

Bishop stares at the apartment building – your apartment building – in something akin to wonder. He has no recollection of how he ended up here, parked in front of the entrance. It’s been twenty minutes, easily, that he’s been staring up at your living room window. The lamp beside the couch is on, the soft glow almost inviting to his impaired senses.

He really should go knock on the door.

He really should have stayed home, too.

So, you’re definitely home. Looking around at the parking lot, he doesn’t see your car. But, you never leave lights on, not on purpose. Whether you’re paranoid about fires, or worried about an expensive light bill, Bishop can only guess. Right now, he’s thankful. It gives him something to focus on, something to calm him… Something to entice him closer to your front door. Step by step, he tries to talk himself out of it. But, he can’t stand this, living this way, not knowing where you are, or what you’re doing, or who you’re doing, if it’s not him. It’s distracting, and he truly can’t afford to be distracted, not even by you, not like this. He has to go up, he just has to. He has to know, to figure this shit out, face-to-face.

Knock, knock, knock. Bishop finds himself comforted by the solid connection of your door against his knuckles. He could use his key, but it doesn’t feel right, not now. He could scare you, or piss you off, neither of which is on his list of desires. You’re a civil person, peaceful to a fault, so he might get away with it, sure, but… But…

This has to go right. He has to do this right. Whatever he did, or hasn’t done, Bishop’s confident he can fix it. You two have a good thing going. Sure, he’s got a few years on you, and there are gaps in understanding one another, every now and again. And, yeah, you’ve had a spat or two, in the last few months of your relationship. He’s always seen that as a sign of things getting comfortable, though, not a warning of bigger problems. Your arguments aren’t dire, anyway.

Who the fuck is ‘Nicki Minaj’, and why is she on my speaker system?

Why is your toilet paper on the roll, the wrong way?

How the hell can you be a Mets fan?

No, I’m serious. Who the fuck is ‘Nicki Minaj’?

That’s not enough for you to be screwing around on him, right?

As your door opens, and Bishop gets a good look at what’s been going on… Well, apparently, it’s enough.

“Who the fuck are you?” Bishop spits out, before the man at the door can even get out a greeting. Not exactly his nicest choice of words, but all Bishop can see is young, and tall, and handsome. If this motherfucker is a day over thirty, he’ll go vegan for a fucking year. Well-dressed, smells decent (he’s close enough to tell, okay?), without a frown line, or a speck of grey on him.

He’s not insecure. He’s not fucking insecure.

Handsome smiles, albeit a bit forced. “Oh, ah, hi! Are you looking for (y/n)?” He’s so polite, it stings. This kid – kid – is the poster child for Ivy League education, for all the right things in life. So clean-cut, his creases have creases. Meanwhile, here Bishop stands, in yesterday’s jeans, boots, kutte, and a wrinkled shirt he can’t swear is fresh.

He can’t stand this, either. As a result, in the blink of an eye, he has Handsome backed against a wall, hands fisted in his now-not-so-perfect shirt.

“Hey!” Handsome shouts, trying – and, failing – to shove Bishop off of him. Bishop can’t really fathom how, must be from sheer force of rage, probably fueled by his liquid indulgences. He can’t help it. His heart is in his throat, rhythm a little sketchy, at the thought that this is what you’ve chosen, over him? This? Some kid with a million-watt smile, and fucking Dockers? What fucking year is it, anyway?!

The idea forces an extra shove into the wall. Bishop hopes something cracks.

“What the fuck are you doing, here?” He hasn’t raised his voice, not a bit. If anything, it’s probably dropped an octave, settling into a low, dangerous growl. He’s two steps away from redecorating that perfect little face, just for the sheer joy of it, make it something you definitely won’t like, anymore.

That’s when he hears it.

“Obispo!”

It’s you. Even through the deluge of seething rage threatening to consume him, Bishop knows your voice. He looks over his shoulder, finding you standing in the still-open doorway. There’s a duffel bag slung over your shoulder, a bag of groceries in your other arm. You look surprised, but who wouldn’t be surprised to be caught, red-handed?

“What are you doing?” you ask, setting your bags down.

“I could ask you the same thing!” Bishop finally shouts, hands still twisted in your little boyfriend’s shirt. “Where the fuck have you been?”

Your confusion seems to be growing. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He sneers. “You know what I’m talking about. I’ve been trying to get hold of you for two days!” Bishop points back to your unwanted visitor, ignoring the way his hand shakes. “You ignore me, to whore around with this prick?!”

“The fuck did you just say?” Bishop nearly has a coronary, as a second guy steps into the doorway, behind you. Where the hell did he come from? This one… He’s just as tall, but he definitely doesn’t miss a day at the gym. If Bishop tries to put this one against the wall, he’ll find himself pile-driven into the floor. His arms may be full of groceries, but the look on his face is threatening bodily harm, and worse.

Doesn’t stop Bishop’s mouth from running, though.

“Oh, wow,” he chokes out, forcing a laugh from somewhere that feels wrong, cut-up and bloodied and wrecked. He shifts his eyes from Muscles, to you. “You running a whole thing outta’ here? Taking ‘em, two at a time?”

Muscles puts his bags down, advancing on Bishop, who lets go of Handsome, and takes a step back. Muscles puts himself between Bishop, and everyone else. Defensive. Protective. And, does that ever fucking hurt. If this guy is so ready to go to bat for you, he’s known you a lot longer than two days.

How did he fucking miss this?

Again, Bishop’s eyes find yours, and the sight of your beautiful face completely destroys the bravado. He feels his shoulders droop, chest deflating, defeat slowly creeping in. He’s still angry, he’s still hurt, but the devastation, the thing he’s worked so hard to avoid having to feel, in his life, ever again, is beginning to win.

“How?” he asks, arms spreading out to either side of him. “How could you do this, (y/n)?” He shakes his head, slowly. It’s been so good, everything has been so damned good. He’s trusted you, all this time. How could he be so stupid? “No, you know what? I should’ve known.” His words are blending with his thoughts, a little mismatched, but he doesn’t much care. A finger is suddenly pointing your way. “You’re full of shit, just like every other cunt out there.”

Instantly, he knows he shouldn’t have said it. He can’t take it back, no matter how hard he prays on it. Your expression is one he’ll remember for the rest of his days, coming back to haunt him in his darkest moments. Hurt, betrayed… Heartbroken… Oh, but, your words. The quiet murmur that follows that look, voice teetering on the edge of tears, will put the final nail in his coffin.

“This… This is my cousin, Alexander…” You gesture to Muscles. “And, his husband, Curtis.” A nod to Handsome.

Those… Those names sound awfully familiar. A recent conversation, if memory serves. And, shit, as he thinks about it, you did mention them, didn’t you? Which means that, all this… The last two days, no calls, no texts… It means that you were-

Is it really possible for blood to ice over?

“We just got in from that music festival…”

Music festival. The one Bishop hadn’t wanted to go to. The one you’d had your heart set on. Who the hell went into the desert to listen to music? How the fuck did instruments even work, in that much heat? He remembers asking those questions, remembers telling you to go with whoever you wanted, but to leave him out of it. You… You’d laughed, thanked him for his permission. He’d found your snark so damned cute.

Now… God, now, there’s nothing he won’t do to get that wet shimmer out of your eyes.

He just can’t get a single word to come out of his fucking mouth.

Silence stretches on, uncomfortable, no one knowing what to say, what to do, and with good reason. As the tension reaches its peak, you clear your throat, gently. “Sit down, Obispo…” You instruct, quietly, before he can even try to offer anything. You’re already heading for the kitchen, not looking at anyone, any longer. “I’ll make everyone some coffee.” You want him sober up, and he knows it. Won’t let him drive back, so obviously drunk, even after what’s just transpired. A Saint, to the fucking end.

Fuck, what has he fucking done?

Masterlist | Request | Tag List

#mayans m.c. fanfiction #mayans m.c. #Bishop x reader #Bishop x you #obispo bishop losa #anonymous request #fanfiction requests #ask box fic #Jealousy Thursday

[alldagayships]

Like Dewdrops - Kit/Ty

Short fanfic inspired by a comic by @toka-sketch

(I was basically bullied into writing this by @kieran-lovebot and @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped, so you have them to thank)

(By the way it’s not very good)

(Read at your own risk)

(I’m really bad at self-promo, if you couldn’t tell.)

If I could gather all the tears I spilled for you, they would cluster like dewdrops and form an ocean.

"Kit!"

As soon as his name left Ty's lips--it seemed as if Ty's lips were made to speak his name--Kit turned. His golden hair was damp, weighed down by the moisture that accumulated between its fine strands. Yet still it gleamed like the sun, bright against the dark background of the night. His eyes were half-hidden by the heavy locks that fell in front of them, their blue light as piercing as a sharpened sapphire.

If only your eyes could carry my ocean; but they are too alive to carry the burden of something so hopeless.

"Ty?"

Somehow, Ty was in Kit's arms. His hands clutched at Ty's shirt, and Ty buried his own into the soft fabric on Kit's back. He could feel the warmth of his skin, the solid shape of his shoulders, the slight tremble of his body. He clung on to Kit, the way he'd never thought to before. He should have held him at every chance he got, held him closer than he'd ever held anyone.

If I'd known we couldn't have infinity, I would have kept you with me and never let you leave.

They were on the ground: Ty had knocked Kit over in his haste. But who wouldn't be hasty when the thing they had wanted and had and needed and lost was right back in front of them, found again? Who wouldn't rush to snatch it up and make sure it was real, to claim it for their own?

Ty had been so quick to run to Kit that he hadn't noticed the flush on his cheekbones, the tangles in his hair, the ash and charcoal smudged on his bare skin. Ty wanted to say something, to do something, to tell Kit all the thoughts he'd had, all the times he lay thinking about him. The regrets and the realizations that had hit him like a crushing gravity since Kit had gone lay on the tip of his tongue. Ty longed to let them spill out, but for the first time, he was afraid that he would say the wrong thing to Kit.

If you would hold me as tightly as I hold on to you, you would understand everything without me saying it.

"What's wrong?"

Kit drew back from Ty as he spoke, and reached his hand up to Ty's head. He threaded his fingers into Ty's hair. Warmth spread through Ty. He closed his eyes and relaxed into Kit's hand, snuggling closer as Kit's fingers wove the dark strands away from Ty's forehead. The corners of Ty's mouth lifted into a soft smile. Affection beat through his body like blood through his veins. He could only think of how gentle Kit's hand was, how comforting his presence was, how he wanted to stay like this for as long as he could. What would happen if he curled up right here, with Kit beside him, and they stayed there, and he didn't have to worry about anything, and he would be happy with Kit and Kit with him? He opened his eyes a crack and gazed fondly up at Kit.

If I could make you understand how you make me feel, if you could see the stars in your own eyes as I stare into them, when would you get bored and leave?

"It's nothing."

Kit drew his hand back suddenly. The absence of it was enough to snap Ty out of his stupor and open his eyes fully. Kit was crouching on the wet cement, his head bent over and his face stuffed into his arms. Was he okay? Was he injured, or cold? What did he need? The bit of Kit's face that Ty could see was pale, and his eyes, peeking out from under his arm, seemed distant and as sharp as the tip of a needle. Ty wanted to comfort him, to reach a hand out and make the tension in his muscles ease with a touch. The look in Kit's eyes stopped him when his hand was halfway there. Confusion stirred in Ty's stomach.

"Kit?"

If happiness was not so easy to lose and not so difficult to gain, we would have it all and I would never worry about you.

"Hey, Kit."

Ty let his arm drape over his knees and hugged them to his chest. He grinned dopily and pressed his face to the crack between his knees. A giddy feeling ran through him, like when he watched small puppies chase each other around with a carefree joy. The only time Ty felt like that was around Kit. With a small sound, Kit lifted his head and looked up. His whole face was red, and Ty could feel his cheeks burning, too, as he drank in the sight of Kit. Energy seemed to be rolling off of him in waves, making the blue of his eyes jump out, the movement of his throat as he swallowed, the breath escaping his nose. Ty's smile and that giddy feeling turned into something deeper, an emotion so intense, compelling him, and he couldn't stop himself when he reached out again.

If I could control myself around you, how much pain would we have evaded, how many blades could have been turned away from us?

"Christopher."

It was barely a whisper, a rush of air, as light as Ty's hand on Kit's face, cradling his cheek, his chin, pressing against his chapped lips. Kit's eyes were fixed on Ty's face, round and blue, magnified by unspilled tears. His brow was drawn in, his features forming an almost worried expression. But why would he be worried? There was nothing wrong, nothing to fear. Just him and Ty.

If we could run away, how soon would it be before I drove you back?

"I'm so happy to have you."

Ty leaned closer to Kit until their foreheads brushed together. A sense of surety and calm settled over Ty. This was right, this was how things were supposed to be, this was how things would always be. Kit's face in Ty's hand, his palm on Ty's sleeve, his lips so close that Ty could feel where the air was stirred between them. Ty's heart was beating so fast in his chest that he knew Kit could feel it.

If you have this effect on me now, how will it feel when you split me apart like a fallen branch?

"Really?"

The word barely registered in Ty's mind. He was too focused on Kit, on everything about him. He shifted his head infinitesimally closer, closer, closer, until there was barely a centimeter between their faces.

If I can finally know you like this, maybe I will be able to think straight.

And then suddenly Ty was being thrown back against a wall, and Kit's hands were on his shoulders. The force with which Ty's head hit the brick reverberated through his body. Kit's fists, far from gentle, as they had been before, were digging into Ty's shoulders, his arms, as stiff and straight as arrows, pinning Ty against the wall. Kit's back was curved, as if his body was bending over itself to get as far away from Ty as possible. There was a ferocity in him that Ty had never seen before, never imagined would be directed at him.

"Then tell me why, Ty?"

If you love me, if we can get through it together, why did you leave me?

"Why didn't you listen to me?"

If I could know every word you'd ever said, I would memorize it all.

"How could you do this?"

If you leave, how could we get through it together?

"To Livvy..."

If my sister could see this happen, what would she say?

"To me..."

If you'd refused at the start, where would we be?

"It's your fault."

If it's my fault, why do I not feel guilty?

"Ty. . . My Sherlock. . ."

If I'm yours, why can't you be mine?

"I loved you so much..."

If you could fill me up with all your love, how much empty space would there be?

"But now I-I..."

As Kit spoke--words that filled Ty's eyes with tears and chest with lead and head with throbbing thoughts that swirled and sank like oil in water--he'd loosened his grip on Ty's shoulders and moved his hands to Ty's jaw. They lay there, deceptively tender as he brushed his fingers over Ty's face. Ty was numb everywhere; he could barely feel the pressure of Kit's hands, or the hard brick behind him, or the cold of the chains that hung around his neck. Yet it was like the rest of the world was magnified, stretching out towards him, strangling his breath and tugging on his limbs and stretching out his skin.

And Kit's hands were still there, even though Ty couldn't feel them. In the back of his mind, the thought occurred to Ty that he could move away. That tantalizing ghost of a sensation on his face would be gone, and he wouldn't have to hear the rest of Kit's sentence. But another part of Ty that couldn't understand what was happening wanted to move forwards. Wanted to react to Kit's hands, to sink into his touch as he had just moments earlier, let himself be comforted.

If you blame me so much, why are yours the hands that bring me ease, yours the voice that mitigates the sting of reality?

Silence was the only thing Ty was truly aware of. The absence of Kit's voice, the sound of it as it had faded away. But now I... What? Now he what?

Ty swallowed--with as much difficulty as it would take to swallow a blade--and forced out, in a scratchy voice barely above a whisper, "Kit?"

It was like the second the words slipped past Ty's lips, a flip was switched in Kit. He flinched and yanked his hands back, anguish filling his face, tears welling from his eyes, falling--falling and landing perfectly on the ground like dewdrops. A sob choked its way up his throat, then words, words that had echoed in Ty's head and seemed to drain his energy and bleed the colour from his surroundings--

"I wish I'd never known you!"

If I knew how you would burn more than the wounds of consciousness, would I have welcomed the strain?

"Kit!!!"

He was gone. Cold air replaced the heat that had radiated from Kit's body. Stiff blankets twisted around Ty where the soft cloth of Kit's shirt had been. Ty's hand clutched the pillow beneath his head rather than the spun gold that was Kit's hair, moist from the dew in the air. The only constants were the tears that blurred his vision and the loops of metal around his neck. Despair filled Ty--at what, he didn't know. At what Kit had said in his dream? At what he had said in the past? At the image of Kit, in front of him? At losing him again? At having him again?

If I could have you back, would I take you without hesitation or would the fear of my nightmares hold me away?

A forced breath flew past Ty's lips as he felt his eyes tingle with another round of tears. He clenched his teeth, gripped his arms tightly, bit his lip, to keep any sound from following the sporadic inhales and exhales that shuddered through him. He squeezed his eyes shut and water seeped past his eyelids, catching on his eyelashes and tracing a path down the side of his head. His hand, covered in blood like the sheets tangled around him, flew to his mouth and smothered the sob that rose up against his will.

Kit.

Tears like rain.

I'm so sorry.

Like a river.

Please forgive me.

Like a current.

I miss you, Watson.

Like an ocean.

I love you.

Like dewdrops.

#ty blackthorn #kit herondale #kit rook #tiberius blackthorn #christopher herondale #kit x ty #ty x kit #kitty #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #cassandra clare #toka-sketch

[stucky-starnes]

Gleam and Glow

Chapter 1

Pairing: Grey! Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3,374

Description: The reader has been held captive by their own mother their whole life, taught to believe the world is bad and that they need to be protected from it. That their gift needs to be protected from it. They possess 70 feet of hair with healing properties and some people will do anything for a chance at peace.

General Warnings: This story contains dark elements and various dark characters!! Do not read if this makes you uncomfortable!!!, kidnapping, violence, language, angst, whump, for the purposes of the story the reader has 70ft foot long hair that glows gold- this does not change regardless of hair color or texture, inspired by the movie Tangled.

Chapter Warnings: kidnapping, manhandling, betrayal, mention of trafficking (selling/buying of a human), John Walker, very naive reader, brief sexual implications,arguments, un-gendered pet names,choking, illusion to sexual harassment, language, please read at your own discretion.

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK, REBLOGS ARE WELCOME AND APPRECIATED

A majority of your childhood was peaceful. You got to do all the normal kid things- of course you were never totally sure what a ‘normal’ kid thing was on account of the fact that you’d actually never met another kid but, it felt normal enough. Aside from the very abnormal ‘birth defect’ you were ‘gifted’ with. You stopped considering your magical abilities as a gift by the time you were seventeen, when your mother made it abundantly clear that you could never leave the tower, you could never go outside, and you could never cut your hair.

The only thing more annoying than the seventy foot long tresses was your mother. According to her, your father was a sloppy one night stand she found in a tavern. He was a love em’ and leave em’ type of guy; he gave your mother one great romantic night and then disappeared off the face of the earth. You’ve never met him. You’ve never met anybody. Your mother has always been your only companion. She was a beautiful woman, she said you take after her more than your dad. While she was gorgeous and protective, she was also passive aggressive, rash, and ostentatious. If it was possible for her to get out of being “the bad guy” she lunged, dragging you under at the first chance. When you were younger she would tell you stories about the outside, she made it seem like a gorgeous place. She described the kingdom and the many villages outside its walls. She started with all the good things until you showed interest in escaping, then, she gave you the truth. She began to spin tales of roads rich with crime, vigilante gangs, covert groups of thugs, and rebel Viking camps. From what you could piece together, the rebel Viking camps were the greatest concern.

The rebel Viking groups weren’t actually Vikings. Your mother had said they called them The Vikings because of their rugged and brutal lifestyle. The camp they occupy is more like a small village, the structures following Norse architectural style, chalk-full of criminals and runaways. Runaways. Your mother had always explained to you that when young girls ran away from their mothers they ended up in that village living a life of crime. The very thought of falling into the wrong hands has kept you from sneaking out or from begging to leave the tower. You found ways to be content, ways to keep busy.

The tower wasn’t as big as it looked from the outside, the only living space was at the very top of the tower. The top of the tower had about two floors worth of open space, minimal and organized in the lower level and very maximalist in the bedrooms and wall decor. Mother said the rest of the tower below was sturdy white brick and vine, aged by time and the weather. Most of the exterior bricks were cracked or crumbling, so all the support for the turret came from the tower’s solid core. The roof was a chipped and rusty blue color mostly concealed by untamed ivy growth, which also hid the entrance to the tower’s turret. To your home. The only way in and out of the tower was an intricate pulley system made from twisted vine and rope. Originally, mother had used your hair to get into the turret, until one day a strand snapped from the pressure, dying and losing its magic. In an effort to protect your gift, you helped your mother make the pulley.

Crafting things was just one of the many ways you spent your time in the tower. After you’d turned eighteen your mother didn’t stick around much, if at all, leaving at night to go to the palace or the tavern, sometimes coming back in the morning and sometimes being gone for a day or two. With so much time alone the only option was to learn how to entertain yourself. Reading books, cooking, painting, testing the information you soaked up from all of the books, sewing holes in clothes, polishing leather, polishing silver, dusting, drawing in the dust. It’s a really long list. If there’s more to add you add it, forever stretching the possibilities. As the sun started to go down however, it started to seep in just how repetitive and predictable your daily activities had become. While you knew leaving the tower would be a horrible and dangerous mistake, you couldn’t help but long to be outside. To feel the grass between your fingers or to stand out in the sun, somewhere other than where it leaks through the turrets window entrance. It could never happen. Knowing this was an impossibility kept an icy grip on your stomach, a lonely sort of feeling, naturally touch starved by fate. It’s been years since the last time you asked to leave. Much before you knew how dangerous it really was out there. Asking one more time couldn’t really hurt could it? You’d be twenty soon enough, just one touch wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Mother had left early in the morning, off to do some much needed grocery shopping; if she hadn’t decided to stop by the tavern she would be home very soon. Too soon to come up with a better plan. Quickly you started to prepare for her to come home, sweeping the dining area and pulling out the utensils needed to make a special stew recipe you remember she had enjoyed. If she was going to say yes she needed to be buttered up first. Once the cooking utensils were nicely organized on or beside the unlit stove, and the dust was done away with, it was time to make quick work of anything she could use against your argument. Rushing to one of your most treasured bookshelves you pulled a discarded velvet scrap from the back of one of your more worn astronomy books. The midnight blue fabric had been torn from one of your favorite dresses when you were sixteen, unwilling to part with the shredded material, it was quickly fashioned into a long braided bookmark. Since then you’ve opted for shorter than floor length gowns or comfortable riding pants and tunics. The supposedly “masculine” style annoyed mother to no end but then again she really couldn’t understand how suffocating the corsets could become, or how difficult it was to fasten them without getting hair caught beneath the strings.

Unbraiding the bookmark allowed it to become one long thick strand, setting it on the dining table, you went to gather your hair. For the most part, you tried to keep it close to yourself. Getting any part snagged or wrapped around something was more of a pain in the ass than taking the time to gather it together. Gathering so much hair was difficult, it took time and it was unbelievably heavy. Once you were finally able to get it all in one place you started the tedious task of braiding. In order to braid it up enough to keep it off the floor you split it into three sections, braiding those separately before braiding them up into a complex Dutch braid. It took nearly two hours to finish so you could finally tie up the end with the dismantled bookmark. The complexity allowed the braid to settle halfway down your calves, keeping it neat and off the ground. Now all that was left to do was light the lanterns around the room and wait. Waiting for mother to get home was nerve wracking, if possible you’d busy yourself with starting the stew but you were fresh out of the most important ingredients.

“Y/n let down the vine!” Mother yelled from the bottom of the tower and the tension finally broke.

“Coming!” You sighed out in relief rushing to the window and lowering out the vine life you had made.

Once you were sure she was safely in the lift’s sling, you utilized the pulley system to begin pulling her up. The tower was around forty feet tall, making the trip up lengthy and difficult. When she was close enough to the window entrance you hooked the vine slack onto the wall hook, keeping it stationary, before quickly coming to help her in with the groceries. Taking the canvas grocery bags from her arms and into the kitchen, you started pulling out the items to take inventory on what she’d bought at the market.

“How was the market? Did that man give you trouble on the celery prices again?”

“Ugh doesn’t he always? Absolutely exhausting, he wanted double, and then there was a fight at the tavern again which I always have to break up.” She pulled out a chair at the dining table, sitting into it and slinging her feet up into the neighboring chair.

You slowed for a moment, pulling the bundle of carrots from the bag slower as you processed that she may be intoxicated which meant there’d be zero chance of having the conversation you desperately desired.

“You went to the tavern?” You asked, feigning excitement.

“Of course sweetheart, I promised that I would but I wasn’t there for long I promise.” She got up to meet you in the kitchen, resting her hands on your shoulders.

“Now what are we having? I’m absolutely starved.” She smiled.

“I was going to make that stew from last winter that you liked so much. Now that fall is settling in.” you started to add broth and small peeled potatoes to the pot.

“That sounds delightful darling, I’m going to go rest my eyes, call me when it’s done?” Mother started to walk away. It was now or never.

“Actually!” You cleared your throat., “Actually I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

“Alright but let’s make this quick, mama’s feet are aching.” She turned back around to sit in another chair.

“Well as you know I’m almost twenty, an adult really and I’m already very responsible around the tower-“

“Y/n where is this going?” She interrupted, rubbing her temples.

“I want to go outside.” You turned to look at her.

“We’ve talked about this! It’s far too dangerous! You know what would happen if anyone discovered your gift!”

“I know, I know, but I’ve thought about it and no one would even know! I won’t tell anyone about it, and if they don’t know I have it then they don’t know how to use it, so it’s useless to them. If I just keep it braided I’ll be completely normal!” You came to sit across from her, hoping it’ll be convincing.

“No absolutely not, it’s much too risky! I have kept you safe for nearly twenty years! I am not stopping now! You’re far too young to understand but this is what’s best for you!” She got up and started to walk away again.

“But it’s not! I’ve never met anyone else! I’ve never had friends or met other people my own age! I’ve never even seen a real man!” You were absolutely desperate.

“Oh a man?! This is about men huh?! So you want to leave the safety of the home I built for you to go whore around for a man?!” She was absolutely furious, beyond cooling down.

“Mother no!” Your face was burning with embarrassment at the very suggestion of sexual activities.

“No truly I understand! You would rather leave this place and be used by men! Drained of your power in one of those Viking camps no doubt! I won’t hear another word, I’m going out for air and your attitude better be gone by the time I get back!” She walked over to the vine, untying it from the wall and setting it into a rustier pulley wheel that would let her down slowly, she was gone just as soon as she’d finished her sentence.

You had no choice but to sit in utter silence and shame. Swallowed by guilt that mother could ever consider you’d do that to her. As much as you wanted to leave and experience the real world, you desperately didn’t want to disappoint your mother or end up somewhere bad. Very quickly you dissolved into regret, backing over to try and undo what’s already been done, planning a way to forgiveness. Finishing the stew was the only way you knew how to start so you got to work, making this the best stew you could ever devise. Having never written the recipe down you had to go solely based on flavor and gut feeling. That was the best way to cook anyway. Once it had been spiced to taste you put the lid on the pot to let it simmer.

Almost immediately you found yourself overrun with anxiety, filled with a need to do something with your hands. To occupy your mind. There really wasn’t much to do in the tower to occupy you enough to erase this from the forefront of your mind. So you opted for the only thing that you could: cleaning. Your started polishing, dusting anything that you could and when there was nothing left you sat and you waited. The silence was absolutely deafening. You’d totally zoned out until you heard the rattling of the pot lid on the stove, snapping your head to it only to see the stew boiling over.

“Shit!” You rushed to turn it off, burning your hand in the process as you cleaned up the mess. Suddenly you were no longer hungry.

Opting to leave the stew on the stove for whenever mother would return you left the kitchen, going to your room as you cradled your hand gently. Tears stung your eyes, threatening to drip through your lashes and you curled up on your bed. Reaching for your braid with your uninsured hand, you gently took the end and rested it over your burned palm, reaching to wipe away some loose tears. Whether the tears were from the pain or from emotional discourse you couldn’t be sure. After drying your tears you closed your injured fingers around the large amount of hair, and began to hum a soft familiar melody. As the melody continued your hair began to glow a brilliant gold, almost glittery in color. Once the shimmer reached your palm, the heat faded and the wound healed. You were able to breathe. You looked to your palm, it was as soft and unharmed as it had been that morning. As it had always been. No scars or leftover pain. Just smooth healthy skin.

You couldn’t be bothered to really prepare for bed. The dress you wore was moveable, the corset easily undone as it tied in the front rather than in the back. Laying back you took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily to let go of all the stress that you could. After a minute of peace you pushed yourself up and off the bed, walking over to the dark wood armoire, opening it to look in the mirror, you sighed looking at your dress. There was stew on the navy skirt and what looked like a sizable carrot. You’d have to change to sleep. Lifting the skirt up closer you plucked off the carrot and disposed of it in the nearby waste basket. Returning to the armoire you flipped your braid back over your shoulder and checked the white sleeves of the off the shoulder blouse, slid your hands over the black corset, grabbing the tied strings from the vertex of the sweetheart neckline you untied the knot. Just as you’d finished untying the security knot you heard a loud grinding bang from the lower level. Pausing to listen you grew concerned.

“Mother? Are you alright?” You called gently.

When you didn’t receive a response you dropped the corset strings and left your bedroom, looking over the bannister you were met with the worst sight you could possibly have imagined. A large piece of the stone floor was broken and pushed out of the ground, slid off to the side and two large men climbed out of the dark hole below. Half a million questions filled your head. How was there a space under the floor? How did these men find you? Did they know who you were? There wasn’t time to think, you had to act. Silently and quickly you snuck back into your bedroom, burning out the lamps and climbing into the armoire as best as you could. Tilting your chin up to silence your breathing you listened. Waiting. Thinking. The men were much bigger than you thought a man would be. From what you could make out they dressed in dark clothing. Leather. Worn and hardly taken care of if at all. They were similar heights. One a redhead and the other blonde, both with rugged facial hair. You only had a brief look and the adrenaline pumping through your veins was making it difficult to focus.

“I am never doing that shit again, forty feet of crumbling bricks and thirty feet of rope, you seriously didn’t think that through?!” You could hear them arguing.

“It didn’t look that tall alright? Can we just find the chick and get out of here? I lost my good boots in a poker game with trash panda and if I don’t win them back he’s gonna tear them apart.”

It was clear they were coming for you. The only thing you could do was hope mother came home or that they didn’t see you behind all the other clothing in the armoire. The stairs creeped. Once. Twice. There was only one creaky step. They were both coming up. You held your breath.

“Food on the stove and the lamp in here is still warm. She was here recently.” They made it into your bedroom.

“If I had to guess I’d say she’s still here.” The footsteps stopped. It was silent.

Suddenly, the hem of your skirt was yanked-it had been caught in the door-and then the armoire burst open. The blonde man grabbed your arm as you struggled, ripping you from the small dark space and out into the open. He spun you around, pressing your back to his chest, his left forearm braced across your neckline and gripped your right shoulder. His right hand held a sharp silver blade to your heart.

“Well, well, well, Princess did we catch you at a bad time? These corset strings are so very loose for company.” The blonde man taunted, using the tip of his blade to pull on the cords.

You gripped this forearm, pushing back closer to his chest in an effort to get away from his blade as you struggled.

“P-please just leave me alone, I won’t tell any-anyone.” You stuttered, trying to stay calm the way your mother had taught you.

“We have plans for you, this hair of yours… hear there’s some people willing to pay a pretty penny for just a touch.” The red headed man stroked your braid, you jerked your head away.

“Oh oh oh” the blonde man laughed. “She’s a feisty one, are you sure we have to deliver her so soon? Could be fun…”

“Oh c’mon man don’t be gross he wants her unharmed. Mostly. C’mon just cloth her so we can go. Boots remember??” The red head said, grabbing your wrists and tying them together roughly. He took the dagger from the blonde, continuing to hold it in its position as the blond reached into his pocket.

“No no no no no please please I’ll give you anything you want just leave me alone!” You begged, swerving your head away from the blondes clothed hand as it moved towards your mouth.

“Bitch stop fussing around!” He slid his left forearm up to your throat, both choking you and effectively stabilizing your head long enough to clamp the cloth over your mouth and nose.

It hardly took thirty seconds before your vision started to swim and your vision started to fade to black.

“We’re already late. He’s waiting.” One of the men said as he slipped a cloth bag over your head. Your hearing went out, senses dulled as you gave in the the dark.

#marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #reader insert #x reader #bucky x reader series #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky x you #dark!bucky x reader #grey!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Gleam and Glow #bucky Barnes tangled au! #tangled au! #marvel au

[dnsbarbie]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬┃𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

chapter one

warnings: cursing, mentions of death, season 4/manga spoilers ??? (that’s about it, think!)

word count: 2,705

notes: this is the first installment of wistful irises !!! i guess it would be a slow-burn fic that would contain 5 or more chapters. i wrote this to cope with the tragedy of AOT manga chapter 138 — that’s just fucked up tbh.  please give this one a like/reblog/feedback so i know whether or not you liked it !!

NEXT CHAPTER: H E R E

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

It was quiet — so eerily quiet, a hand came up to soothe her ears bitten by the cold wind. Devon’s palm felt at the rough rubbles on the surface of which she was sat on. Everything she laid eyes on tugged at her heart, scanning at her surroundings as if she looked one more time, her vision would change. 

Alas, she gazed upon the damaged cities from her place atop Wall Rose, with no success. Devon threw her head back, opting to find comfort at the stars that laid peacefully on the sky. 

“They’re dead.” She asserted, nearly winced at the wave of overwhelming devastation rushing at her heart. 

However, she was unsure who or what she was alluding to. Was it the people of Paradis? Those she lost? Or even — the stars?

Nothing was clear, at the moment. Only hurt and confusion clouded her devices. She found her palms closing in on the small rubbles she had caught, clutching them tightly in her fist.

It had been four years since everything went into a complete spiral. Perhaps it was for her alone, considering a massive part of her died along with the hundreds of comrades who sacrificed themselves for the sake of the truth. 

She remembered the day they found out about the life that existed beyond these walls. The walls she had known all her life, was quite literally, made to imprison its people. It was unclear whether she was angry or sad that there was a whole world out there that hated their existence so much that they’d created monsters to attack them. 

“It’s late, Devon.” 

She recognized that sweet-tuned voice instantly but didn’t turn to look his way as she spoke. “It’s awfully cold, too.” Her voice came in a whisper.

Her new companions footsteps grew closer, making her glance to her right. “Are you here to wallow in despair with me, Armin?” 

The blonde simply sat down beside his friend, looking ahead the dark path. “No,” He answered. “I was just looking for you.”

The silence returned after that. Chilly air wafting at the night, Devon laid her hands on her lap, inspecting how they’ve gotten small cuts from the sharp stone she had held. Her ears felt blocked as her hands began to tremble. She clenched her teeth in the hopes to ebb away her impending emotions. She exhaled a shattered breath, pressing her hands against the skin of her face. 

Armin’s hand that intended to ease Devon’s cries, seem to have worsen them the moment it touched her. However, he continued on, rubbing small circles at the column of her back. 

“I — “ Devon started, her voice failing her as another ripple of pain pounded at her chest. 

An encouraging hand reached up against her own, gently coaxing her into a state of solace, just enough for her to be able to convey her emotions.

With a breath, Devon began once more. “I thought we’ll be close to peace, once we discovered what was in that goddamn basement,” She laughed, lacking humor. The back of her palm wiping at the tears that had fallen on her cheeks. “But — it was just another door to one more disaster.” 

“That’s true,” Armin agreed, but still mulled over her words. “It is a big step from freedom, though.”

She gritted her teeth, baring the headache that came with it. There was a part of her that knew it was the exact idea Armin had in mind. Regardless of her understanding, she couldn’t help but feel a whistle of displeasure crawling against her lips.

With a swing of her head, she finally flashed her attention to Armin. Devon gave him a once-over, noticing how his once shoulder-length hair, had been cut shorter, lips curled into a frown, dragging down a creases on his forehead. The main thing that always saddened Devon was the look in his eyes.

Armin was the last person Devon thought she’d see with those haunting wisp. He was the last shred of hope she had in this world, even before everything came tumbling down, Devon saw Armin as a beacon, that she could run to whenever it all became horrifyingly dark— staring at him now, Devon felt extremely helpless, loneliness grasping at her throat, catching herself reaching for Armin’s hand that was placed on her back, snatching it on her own.

“We’ve lost so much,” She mumbled, compressing her grip on his hand. “I can’t afford to lose anything anymore— Armin—”

“You won’t—”

“— If we go tomorrow, I will—”

“Devon—”

“No— we’re going into a lion’s den! Every single person in that goddamn land wants us dead!” She stressed, leaning in closer to Arnim as if it’s bound to improve his comprehension.

Armin halted, observing the panic flood in Devon’s sunken eyes. The usual brilliance of its green hue had faded over time. In it’s place were tired, dull irises staring back at him.

He swallowed the lump building up his throat, nodding in understanding. “I know— but we have to bring him home, Devon.”

With a quick dark chuckle, Devon faced the sky, leaning her head back. “I don’t even know if I want to see him,”

Huffing out a breath Armin was holding, he abruptly got on his feet, pulling his hands from Devon’s freezing ones.

The latter flashed him a confused glance, awaiting his next move. She watched as Armin shook off his Survey Corps jacket, soon hanging it on her shoulders.

Maybe it was the topic of discussion that made them neglect the air that had been a lot chillier than before. Devon felt warmth seeping back into her skin as she hugged the material tighter against her body.

“You don’t seem to have a choice for the matter,” Armin muttered, gazing down at her. “Whether or not you’re in good terms with him, Eren still belong with us.”

Devon grimaced, as if Armin had said something completely ridiculous— in her eyes, it was.

She recalled that painful night, about three months ago. The night Eren decided to sneak out and leave Paradis. He had been babbling about it for weeks prior to his escape. Devon made the mistake of thinking it was all that— mindless babbling.

She was wrong, of course. Eren had actually planned everything. He was going to see through his stupid plan.

“Are being fucking serious right now?” Devon hissed, distressed eyes were scanning Eren’s face, hoping this was some sick prank he’d gotten everyone in.

Eren cringed at the volume of her voice, hands putting up immediately to cup her mouth. “Devon— Please— Listen, yeah?”

His pleas were met by deaf ears, as Devon slapped his plams away from his mouth, glaring at him with the outmost disbelief.

“You’re being stupid,” She scoffed. “This is stupid— Eren— You want to go there?” Her furrowed eyebrows deepened the more she thought about it.

Eren bit his lip, nodding slowly, standing rigid in front of her, frozen at the fire in her eyes. He examined her, sitting on her bed, contemplating the information he threw at her face.

The light of the single candle in the room, illuminated the left side of her face as she turned to him again. “What ever you think is going to fix this, it’ll only call for another war—”

“That’s nothing new.”

“You selfish—” She had lunged at him, limbs acting before her brain. “—little brat—!” An echo deafening resounded in the small enclosed space, rearing on the silence it followed. Devon’s palm stung, eyes raging and barely seeing anything beyond her seething anger.

Before she had the mind to process anything, her head banged against a solid surface, a groan leaving her lips from the impact.

Everything was fuzzy, scarcely making out anything at sight. Only cloudy images filled her vision, almost not feeling the bruising grip pressing her down by the wrists.

The searing breath near her ear, felt uncomfortably cold, a pair of lips grazing at the tip, making her shudder.

“For your own protection— all of you— remember that . . .”

The words echoed, but she could barely hear the last ones, as her breath turned calmer, the last thing she saw were those turquoise orbs, looking back at her with an emotion she couldn’t quite read.

Devon shook herself out of the memory. There was more to it, she knew that — but she couldn’t seem to remember. When she tries, a huge headache always came crashing down on her. A sick wave slapped her as she thought about the dreadful possibility of Eren, messing with her memories. 

She hated the big gapping wall in her mind. It was always incomplete, left her nothing but empty guesses about what else he could have said to her that night before he left her hanging with a missing piece in her heart. 

He left them — and just like that, he gets to come home in the most unnecessarily brutal way possible. Eren was asking for a bloodbath, and unfortunately, that was what most likely going to happen tomorrow.

“He’s going to get us killed.” She muttered, voice thinning at the thought of her fallen comrades — endless blood — fire — explosions — “We’ll be lucky if we all make it out in one piece.” 

This time, Armin didn’t contract her declaration, having her look down. He was frighteningly aware of the fact that any of them could die at any given moment. It brought him peril at how Devon had smacked him in the face with the reality he was trying to avoid. A part of him wanted to believe it was all going to go smoothly, but the logical part of him had mulled over the dreadful alternative for a long time now.

He sympathized with the hostile feelings Devon had grown for Eren. Perhaps it was due to the puzzling relationship they possessed. If he was to base it on his observations alone, it was painfully obvious that they cared deeply for one another but never had the time or courage to say it. 

No one has ever pried about their relationship, since they both dismissed it as nonsense. It was perplexing yet as clear as day what they had for each other. 

They would always be found bicker when they were younger, Devon calling Eren an ugly airhead then Eren shooting back that they were the same. Back then, it was true. They were kids who thought they could do everything themselves. Armin could say, Devon grew out of that attitude as time passed by when he got to know Devon a little better. 

After the battle with Zeke, Reiner and Bertholdt, the amount of trauma everyone endured was terrible. The bloody aftermath of Paradis was engraved into their minds, never fading until their last breath. 

The guilt ate at Armin when he found out how he came to be alive. He often wondered why it was him. Why did Captain Levi give him the chance to live over Commander Erwin. 

On the other hand, remorse gripped at Devon’s throat at the unintentional betrayal that crossed her mind that day. She found herself opening her mouth before she could hide it away. 

“I was so desperate for peace . . .” She whispered, yanking down Armin by his hands, his behind slamming against the hard concrete as he was forced to sit down in front of her. “That I . . . For a long time — I believed that only Erwin could lead us there —”

“It’s alright — “

“It isn’t — it was meant to make me happy, for goodness sake — you came back from the dead after I stood there and watch you get burned alive . . .” She failed to realize she was crying until she felt droplets of her tears falling on her hands, intertwined with Armin’s.

Looking away, she continued, Armin watching her carefully. “Mikasa and Eren were desperately convincing Captain Levi to resurrect you — while I stared at both yours and Commander Erwin’s body , absolutely loathing the choice that had to be made.” 

Devon could no longer hold in her heavy sobs, as it broke through her completely. “I get why you thought that, and you weren’t selfish for doing it, were you?” She listened to Armin’s reassuring voice. “You thought Erwin should’ve had it because you believed people would follow him and would avoid getting hurt — “

“ — you’d be able to do that too, though . . .” Devon countered, sniffling as she glanced back at Armin’s oceanic orbs. “I was just blinded by fear to think straight back then.”

Armin smiled at Devon in a silent gratitude. “I thought about everything you did, too, and maybe you’re right, maybe I’m too blinded by my own fears to face another life that was given to me — but I promised Captain Levi and Commander Hanji I’ll do everything it takes to bring us the peace we’ve been seeking out for years.”

Devon winced at the sudden touch on her head, chestnut locks swishing from one side after the other as Armin ruffled her hair. 

“Regretting could only get you so far,” Armin stated, a small smile gracing his face. “What’s important is what you decide to do about it.”

Warmth flooded at Devon’s core, nearly bursting into tears at Armin’s comforting words. Her mind went back to Eren, his circumstances and living conditions on that island were mostly unknown. But seeing as he had the facilities to send a letter, hints that it must be at the least safe.

She started to fly over the scattered thoughts inside her head, mulling over how mentally drained she has been, yet the noise and dull of her heart seem to only worsen. The countless times she had to convince herself of the good things left in the world to bask the gift of life, but lately, she found herself sitting by the windowsill of her room. Eyes always glancing up the sky whether or not they were painted with shining stars. 

Devon often clutched her chest when the uncontrollable pangs in her heart refuses to remain still. Some days, the rejection of waking up rattles her tremendously, and the refusal to face the day ahead was stronger than anything. 

She wanted nothing more than to take a few steps back and reverse time to relish the tranquility of it all. It sounded ridiculously selfish, but she’d trade anything if it means she would awake to Eren and Jean’s loud voices arguing or to see Sasha pocket goods she had stolen from the kitchen while being chased down by Armin. And oh — what she wouldn’t give to replay the day they’ve all bonded together after Keith Shadis made Sasha run until she was in the brink of insanity. 

It’s those little things that made her nostalgic, bringing a sad smile on her lips that she wasn’t sure if she wanted those thoughts randomly popping up her mind. Sometimes, disbelief hits her harder than anything whenever she’d allow herself to scan the faces of what’s left of her teammates. 

When Erwin had told them, he knows “they’d one day go far and achieve great things”, if he was still here, Devon would surely make him look at what had become of them. 

Everyone was preparing for the expedition in Marley tomorrow. Devon had exited the room when she had heard the severity of the situation. Eren was going to wreck havoc in that foreign island and he gave them no other choice than to lend him aid. 

It was rather conflicting, Devon was worried for him but nonetheless, despised his living-breathing self. She often wondered about his whole motive, considering his adamant proclamation that it wasn’t for his own self-indulgence. 

It felt like it was, as she began to feel the shuddering screams of the impending battle that was set to take place. 

If another life of her loved one’s taken from her tomorrow, she fears that it might throw her in an unstable state and she had every right to blame it all on Eren.

#eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x oc #eren jeager x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #armin arlert x reader #levi ackerman x reader #mikasa ackerman x reader #erwin smith x reader #eremika #reiner braun x reader #hange zoe #hanji zoe #historia reiss #eren smut #jean kirschstein #armin arlert smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi ackerman smut #yelena #connie springer #erwin smith #survey corps #sasha blouse #sasha braus #mikasa ackerman #eren yeager #armin artlert

[7-wonders]

Hardships Unnumbered

Summary: The quest to save Julia begins, but not everything is as it seems in this mystical land.

Word Count: 1969

A/N: Hi friends! This is the second chapter of my Labyrinth King!Michael AU fic, "It's Only Forever." I'll link the first chapter down below. I hope that you enjoy and, as always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

(also there's a couple of little easter eggs/one big one and I'm really excited to see who figures them out)

Chapter One

Though you put your hands out in front of you to brace yourself, it doesn’t help you to discern which way is up and which way is down until you finally stop rolling. With a groan, you shove yourself up to your feet. Your palms are scraped and slightly bleeding, your jeans are torn at the knees, and leaves and twigs now adorn your hair. All in all, this is not the way you had hoped to start this mission to get Julia back.

Now that you’re already at the bottom of the hill, it’s easier to decide how to start this jaunt through the Labyrinth. After all, you certainly can’t go back up, and the solid ground beneath your feet only leads one way. The shining spires of Michael's castle at the center of the maze, closer than you had thought, rise high above you and act as a compass. All factors considered, you can definitely run this in a couple of hours. Then, once you’re both safely out of here, your first order of business is to call the cops.

Your confidence begins to fade the longer that you walk along with the wall separating you from the inside of the maze. There’s no door, or arch, or opening anywhere to be seen. Turning around, you look back to see if you’ve missed the entrance. Instead of finding one, movement catches your eye. A man, tall and willowy, cries out victoriously at something trapped under his foot. He seems to be your best bet, and you decide to approach him.

“Excuse me?” you say.

The man startles, obviously not expecting to see anybody here. “Oh!” he cries in surprise, looking at you as if you’re the first person to ever cross his path. His hair is bleached to look almost white, and he has a pair of oddly-shaped sunglasses with purple lenses covering his eyes. The checkered jumpsuit, complete with ruffles on the shoulders, both does and doesn’t go with the sunglasses. You’re not quite sure why the people that live here dress so funny, but it’s making you feel underdressed.

“Which way do I go to get into the Labyrinth?”

“Now, why would I tell you that?”

“Because you must have come from there,” you pause, looking down at the man’s foot when you hear a squeaking, “oh! Is that a fairy?”

“Mhm.” Your childlike wonder is abruptly swept out from under you when he kicks the small, blue creature into the forest.

“Why did you do that? That wasn’t very nice!”

“Go ahead and pick one up,” the man says, “you’ll see how nice they are when you’re missing a finger.” As if to prove his point, a fairy flies up to you and hisses in your face, showing off two rows of razor sharp teeth. “What is it that you wanted, again?”

You huff. “To know which way to go to get into the Labyrinth.”

“Did you try asking it?”

“I’m sorry, what?” You roll your eyes in disbelief before mocking him. “‘Labyrinth, please let me in!’ Is that what I should say?”

He doesn’t have to respond, for a sudden rumbling has you turning around. To your shock, there’s suddenly an open space in the wall that hadn’t been there just a second ago.

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m Gallant.” You want to tell him that you weren’t guessing his name, you don’t even want to know his name, but he continues. “Who are you?”

“(Y/N).”

“Ah, that’s right.” So this is one of Michael’s ‘subjects?’ After all, if your dreams have been right (and you’re still half-convinced this is just the elaborate scheme of some unhinged weirdo and not magic, despite what you just saw), then that means that Michael is also the ruler of the Underworld. With that logic, Gallant must be some sort of a demon. If that’s the case, you certainly don’t want anything to do with him.

“Well,” you say awkwardly, “I’m going to go now. Running on limited time, and all that.”

“You’re just going to go in there? Alone?”

“Yep.”

“But--but the Labyrinth leads to the Labyrinth King!”

“That’s kind of the whole reason why I’m here.”

“You’re going to get hurt in there.” Gallant gasps. “You could even die in there!”

You set your shoulders, walking to the hole in the wall and glancing back. “I won’t, but thanks for the concern.”

“Wait!” Even if you did want to listen to what he had to say, you couldn’t, for the wall closes back up on itself the moment you step through it. Mildly jarred though you may be, there’s not much you can do to change this, so you turn around and try to figure out whether to go right or left. Both directions look exactly the same, so with the flip of a mental coin, you go right.

After both walking and jogging for what must have been over a mile, you’re no closer to any sort of landmark that would tell you where you are or how close you are to the castle. There haven’t even been any corners to turn past, just one long, unending aisle. You’re starting to feel a little claustrophobic as you finally come to a stop, needing to take a break for a minute. Sinking down against the wall into a sitting position, you find yourself looking back and forth down the path. Both directions look exactly the same, for as far as you can see. You groan dejectedly and put your head in your hands, allowing yourself a moment of pity before getting up and trying again.

“Hey there!”

You jump at the sudden Southern-sounding voice. “Who’s there?”

“Me, of course!”

Looking around, you see a small door just to your left, and a small woman, probably less than a foot tall, standing next to you. Her curly blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail, showing off her pointy ears. “And you’re...talking to me?”

“There’s nobody else around, is there?” The woman glances inside the open door. “‘Cept the missus, of course.”

Another woman, also blonde, pokes her head outside and smiles up at you. “Hello!”

“Why don’t ya come inside for a while? ‘Delia makes a killer gumbo.”

“Uh...no thanks. I’m just taking a break for a moment before I find a way to the castle.”

The woman’s face turns severe, and she holds her shawl tighter around herself. “You must be awfully brave if you’re so determined to go up there.”

Brave? You wouldn’t call yourself brave. Stupid, maybe, for bowing to the whims of the guy who’s kidnapped your charge, but not brave.

“But anyways, just go through the wall across from us and you’ll be on your way.”

You look in front of you to see the solid wall. “Through there?”

She nods.

Logic is telling you that this is obviously false, but, considering the same thing happened with Gallant, it can’t hurt to try. Standing up, you cautiously put your hand up to the wall, expecting to meet, well, a wall. Instead, you almost fall through a doorway that leads to another passage in the Labyrinth. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“You will be if you keep going.”

You choose to ignore this, at this point knowing that everybody who lives here is terrified of their ruler. “Thanks for the help.”

The elf stares at your back as you walk through the new corridor, figure becoming smaller and smaller. “If she would have stuck around, I would have been able to get her on the right track back home, not towards that horrible man.”

From inside the house, a timer beeps. “Misty, supper’s ready!”

///

In the stone chamber of the King of the Underworld’s throne room, a three year old girl is currently winning a staring contest against a demon. Michael watches as the demon’s eyes begin to water (with blood, of course), before he eventually gives in and blinks. The little girl cheers before looking at Michael.

“My daddy’s gonna kick your butt, you know. He saved mama from aliens once.”

“Silence, child,” Michael commands, but he can’t help the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. It’s difficult to hide his amusement when this child is the most lively thing to grace his castle since...well, he can’t quite remember since when.

Being surrounded by demons of all shapes and sizes, with a variety of horns or extra eyes or tails, gets old after a while. Demons, quite frankly, are a bore. All they want to do is scare people and cause mayhem, yet continue to use the same methods that have been in place for thousands of years. If Michael’s being honest with himself, everything’s a bore to him here. In the early years, this job had been quite fun. Lots of naive humans to terrify and endless souls to torture.

Michael himself had been prone to naivety, then. It was easy to deal with the buffoons that called themselves demons when it seemed that, soon enough, he would find somebody to share this burden with him. After all, it was the guy upstairs who believed that emotions were for the humans. Michael, however, found it to be one of the most carnal pleasures. To love, and to be loved, seemed like the greatest sin. As the years passed, and the whole routine of ruling the Underworld became stale, Michael began to embrace the feelings of dejection, while simultaneously dreading the thought of an eternity alone.

That’s why, no matter the outcome of tonight, Michael would at least have something to add a little color to his black-and-white world. At the very least, the child would provide much-needed entertainment in the Underworld. She seems quite creative, which could potentially lend itself to some new and innovative torture methods. But, that would almost be a non-starter, considering the whole reason that she’s here, the whole reason Michael implemented this plan in the first place, is to get to you.

You, who managed to somehow win over demons disguised as beggars that loitered outside of the bookstore you worked for. You, who was constantly coming up with your own ideas for stories, creating and erasing entire worlds within your mind (a power far more powerful than any regular magic, Michael believes). You, who had somehow managed to vex and enchant him, without ever having spoken a word to him. He had seen you on one of his visits up Above, talking to a beggar demon as if they were your equal, offering food and shelter to their grotesque form. From then on, he knew that he had to have you, and from that, a plan was born. The Labyrinth, which he had subtly placed in every single one of your dreams for months now, was impossible to run through. You would inevitably lose. And when that happens, he’s prepared to accept your frantic offer where you exchange yourself for the child. He is, after all, a benevolent ruler.

“Mr. Michael?” Julia questions, breaking Michael out of his pondering.

Michael hums, deciding that he won’t lecture her on the importance of referring to rulers by their titles. “Yes, little one?”

“Do you have juice here? ‘M thirsty.”

“Abaddon!” Michael calls, the demon appearing in a puff of smoke. “Get our guest some refreshments.”

The demon turns to do Michael’s bidding, shocked when Julia grabs their clawed hand and skips along with them. “I really like your spiky horns,” she says.

Michael looks up at the clock on the wall, noting that only nine hours remain for you to reach the center of the Labyrinth and rescue the child. Perfect. He’s not one to get too cocky (yes he is), but these are odds he’s willing to take.

//

Tag List (send me a message if you want to be on this!): @sojournmichael @dark-mei-rose @blakescoven @xavierplympton @michaellangdon @trelaney @ajokeformur-ray @babyloutattoo89 @bloodcoatedeclipse @threeminutesoflife @annikathebananana @wth-trippy @thatonehumanbeing05 @dumybitch

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[sunflowerheartsandstarryskies]

The Devil and the Mermaid - Chapter Four (Lucifer x Mermaid!Reader)

Author’s Note: The inspiration here came from a dream of mine, also one of my favorite shows “The Legend of the Blue Sea” has some heavy inspiration in here as well. Thank you so much for the support of the series! I will also create a tag list for this story since I saw people interested in that. Again I love reading your guys’ comments and if you want to be part of a tag list for this series please let me know :)

Warnings: None, maybe mild violence? (You shove a guy out of the way)

Taglist: @th3gl1tt3rgam3roff1c1al, @magnet-girl, @roxytheimmortal​

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You were covered in darkness, but you were adjusted to the darkness, you lived in the dark with your clan who usually swims in the parts of the ocean where the light just barely touched your skin. 

However instead of the comforting warmth and assurance, you had when you were a woman swimming with your clan, your family, it was a lingering warmth and a reassurance that had made you realize you were dreaming and not of your memories. 

“(Y/N) you have met an interesting fate having fallen for Lucifer,” a voice echoed around you. You looked around in the dark space to search for the voice but found no answer to that.

“I would not have known of your existence if you hadn’t gone out of that water, it’s strange what this world has created once I left it.”

“Are you the moon? What do you mean by that? All I know is what I have been taught and seen when I was in the ocean”

“You could say I am the moon, but I am more than that and also less than that at the same time. I affect the world around me indirectly but you have caused quite a stir where I am at with your involvement with Lucifer, I wish you the best of luck and the best of health.”

With that, you were startled from your sleep by pressure on your shoulder, and you opened your eyes to see Lucifer smiling at you. Once he saw you were awake he went to say, “Good morning my dear, have a good dream?”

“Funny you should mention that, I heard a voice say that they were the moon, I think anyway. I don’t quite remember what they said but I remember your name,” you say as you start sitting up from the bed.

Lucifer sat down next to you as he took in what you said, humming in thought, he turned to you and patted your shoulder.

“Well the only one I know that could do that, would be my Dad, but I don’t know why he would want to talk to you.”

After a couple of days, you have gotten well versed with different aspects of human life and culture, mainly you are not allowed to eat spaghetti with your hands. You also have gotten interested in the tv that had got you basically hooked on the subtleties of different subsets of human culture, one being that if bad men are about to hurt you you can beat them up.

“Anyway, darling remember when I was talking to you about my consulting job for the police?”

You nodded remembering the different stories of his workplace along with his partner, Chloe. She seemed weird but nice from what you heard from him. 

“Well, I have to go in today there is a case that the police department says they need my help with,” Lucifer continued, “and I want you to come with me.”

“I would like to, is it going to be like what I saw on tv with how they deal with violence?” you asked.

“Kind of, it depends, now love let’s get you ready for the day and we can get going.”

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You and Lucifer walked into a one-story house it looks plain and forgettable with its beige outside paint and white shingled roof. There were also some beautiful hydrangea bushes in the front, and you noticed them because they were the only splash of color in the whole property. There were police officers around the property and you saw one documenting the bushes. You tilt your head as you were stalling to enter the house and saw footprints underneath the bushes. 

“(Y/N) are you okay? Come on,” Lucifer urged on. He leads you into the home, and you immediately see the crime scene.

 It was an execution. Plain and simple. The victim was a young woman from what you saw, and she was shot point-blank in the back of the head as she was sitting on her couch, she probably knew the killer, since the tv was still on. 

The aquarium was direct across from the living room, and you saw the fish in there was trying to get your attention. You can hear the voices of the fish repeatedly crying out, “He hurt her! Help her! He was her friend” You looked at the aquarium and the fishes seem to surround you as they try to talk to you through the glass. ‘Can you show me what he looked like,’ you broadcasted to the fish. 

Lucifer was looking at you confused at what you were doing and was about to talk to you when he got interrupted.

“Oh no, you did not bring a civilian to a crime scene” you hear a voice coming towards you. 

“Ah detective, how good to see you again, and this is (Y/N) she is my assistant and friend,” Lucifer says. 

You turn your head away from the aquarium and saw a stressed blonde woman coming towards you, and you realized that this must be Chloe Decker. She tilted her head with furrowed brows and a hand to her hip as she eyes you. 

“Why would you need an assistant?” Decker questioned.

“You know there are always things that I could miss out on while we’re out here and plus don’t you want someone who can put me in line and in order for once?” Lucifer replied.

“That’ll be the day,” Decker snorted.

You tugged on the jacket sleeve on Lucifer to get his attention to you, and he leaned for you to whisper to tell him the thoughts and profile the fish given to you about the person who committed the murder.

“Oh that’s brilliant, darling, see Detective my assistant just gave us a solid lead to go off of. We have a suspect!” Lucifer exclaimed as he grabs your hand and leads you out of the crime scene.

“Wait a minute can you tell me what means?” Decker ran off to you two.

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

So the three of you ended up at an apartment building on the opposite side of Los Angeles waiting to interview the suspect that the fish had identified to you at the victim’s home. 

Lucifer ended up filling into Decker that you had deduced based on the footprints outside the house and the way she was killed, it was someone she knew intimately enough to let the person in without a second glance. You just confirmed that for him with the description of the man the fish saw kill their owner, Blaire Wright. He also found that there was a single picture of him and the victim together faced down so he connected the dots to realize that the relationship must’ve turned to an obsession for the man and had gone possessive over the woman. The old “if I can’t have her nobody can” cliche, which made Lucifer quite bored about that trope but you can’t always choose what happens in your cases. 

You all made your way to the apartment building, Decker went to find out from the landlord about the suspect and you and Lucifer were ordered to stay out in the parking lot. You spotted the man that matched the description the fish gave you and the picture Lucifer showed to verify it. His name was Oscar Grant, and he’s suspected to have developed an obsessive behavior over Ns. Wright … and he was heading your way.

Lucifer seemed to be aware of it as he straightened himself and walked over to where the man was walking into the parking lot. 

You felt a strange sensation of being submerged in the water again, you felt heavy and light all at the same time. You couldn’t hear what the two were saying, but you felt the danger and sensation of a cornered animal, and that’s when you felt that you had to move. So you did. Grant pulled a gun but as soon as he did you grabbed his forearm and threw him towards the dumpsters that were ten feet away from him. You may have used a bit too much of your strength. There was now a new dent behind Grant that there wasn’t there before and a shocked looking Lucifer next to you and staring at the gun in between you and the culprit.

You heard Decker walking behind you and you heard her go with a bewildered voice, “How in the-?”

When he came to a few seconds later, he was given his rights by Decker and placed in the back of her car off the police department. While you were walking up to you and Lucifer’s ride you felt a lingering gaze on your back throughout that entire encounter. You just shook your head in an attempt to get rid of that feeling. 

Later on, Oscar Grant ended up confessing to both the attempted murder of you and Lucifer and the murder of Blaire Wright. Decker relented upon the idea of Lucifer bringing you to cases because you ended up being a pretty good asset. 

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

Now you were back at Lucifer’s penthouse and you were in pajamas lounging around the bar area in his place. Lucifer was down at the LUX club area taking care of some business that he needed to get done as he told you. 

There was a small pool that he had in his apartment which you found, and you can hear the call of the water no matter its state. So you took off your clothes and went in the pool, your tail and scales came as soon as you were submerged and your whole body was singing with happiness as it felt alive again. 

The more you spend on land without the return of the love that you came out of the water for, your heart will stop beating unless you step back in the ocean. You forgot to tell Lucifer about that specific part of the deal of you coming on land because you didn’t want him to feel the pressure of returning a love that might not be real, to begin with. 

You begin to worry about what might happen if he found out you didn’t tell him the whole truth of your situation to him. You didn’t want him to concerned for your fate, because you never know what might happen there might be a happy ending for you both.

As you were swimming in the small pool brooding in your thoughts you heard the elevator ping, so you peaked your head over the corner of the pool. When you just saw it was Lucifer and no one else you let yourself be seen by him.

“Well hello there, I see you have found my pool then?” Lucifer greeted you. You beamed at him and nodded fervently at that.

“Y’know I never actually saw you as your original mermaid self? Is it alright if I watch you swim?”

“Um sure if you want to, I’m not the most beautiful, there are others in just my clan that have amazing scales and tail fin,” you state.

“Let me be the judge of that, love-” he cut himself off with a mouth agape look as he marveled at your full beauty.

Your tail was massive and the scales decorating and protecting your body were glittering with a rainbow of colors complementing your skin tone. It made you look heavenly and the flowing tail at the end made you look that way even more so.

You became self-conscious at the way Lucifer was just staring at you, so became to fidget under his heavy gaze in the water.

Then he spoke gently, “You are beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. Thank you for letting me see your true self like this.”

“Thank you Lucifer, that means a lot to me.”

The brooding can wait, you have time to be hopeful and to think about that happy ending.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer netflix #lucifer #x reader #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer imagine #lucifer fox x reader #imagines #mermaid reader

[sopxhiea]

Moirai

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: Now that the intentions are clear, the niece sees no reason to wait but Alfie just wants to take his sweet time.

Warnings: Age gap.

Genre: Angst and a dash of smut but fluff at the end

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Enjoying the view?”

“I'm gonna end up breaking your little heart in two.”

The pavement was cold, still a little wet from the rain this morning as the light sound of your small feet padding across the surface filled the empty street. It was past midnight, a little too late for anyone sane to be roaming around the streets of Camden, only the drunk and insane was around at this hour.

The car had stopped a few blocks away from his house as you had to be careful with where you were going. The excuse of going around to your friend’s flat because she was having a rough night had gotten you out of the grand mansion with your driver. 

You had changed into a lighter dress, one that was sheer around your upper body and was flowing around your knees. There was no noise or interruption as you looked at the house Alfie loved in. Too small for a man of his power but big enough for anyone around here.

You figured he wasn’t so materialistic, not like the posh ladies you’d been around.

A little shiver was apparent in your arms but it was late for any doubts as your small hand hit the door once, and then once after that. There was a pause, deliberately almost and some shuffling from the other side after the sound of heavy footsteps stopped. You heard an animalistic growl from the other side, unsure of the source but there wasn’t much time to contemplate when the door opened in one swift motion.

And there he was, in all his glory.

His hair was a bit messier than it had been during dinner, sleeves rolled up around his elbows. He was not panting but there was a darker look in his eyes, the same one he had in your study earlier that same day. You shot him a smile he had seen before but it made it harder for him to breathe for a second but he recovered quick enough.

“Enjoying the view?” your voice was breathy and there was a sparkle in his eyes as he looked at your small form standing on his doorstep.

He usually had his maid but he was more than thankful he had given her the rest of the night off. He knew you’d be coming, for all he knew the kiss he gave before leaving was enough to lure you in. You hadn’t slept with the man but you wanted to, so desperate for him to do more but you had a reputation stemming from your uncle and his business.

So all the moves had to be calculated.

“Very much so.” he said, not tearing his eyes from your body as he stared with no shame in the world. Alfie had always thought that beauty should be admire and you were it for him.

“Well, it’s rude to keep a lady waiting...” you spoke and trailed off but he saw the way your lips twitched upward.

He stepped aside, taking your hand in his and closing the door behind you. The space itself would be considered very well off for anyone else but you knew the kind of money Alfie made, he had multiple businesses on the side and your uncle was well aware of his wealth.

Maybe that was why he had been invited to dinner, you thought. It was a sign of trust and signaled at a created of a new bond and you soon realized that very same bond could easily be broken because of you. You didn’t ponder on it, not when Alfie was looking at you the way he was.

Moving further inside the house, you came to the conclusion that Alfie was not a materialistic man after all. Most of the furniture seemed expensive but there wasn’t much of it to begin with. A few shelves here and there with old books with golden covers and a few pictures of what you assumed to be his family. 

When you turned back, you found Alfie with a dark look in his eyes and a few centimeters away from you. His chest touched yours, noses almost brushing but you held him back by his arms and smiled. You wanted things to be done quick and efficiently but it also needed to be proper.

“Nice place you have here.” you spoke and didn’t realize the large mutt next to the fireplace.

A smile broke out on your lips as you approached the dog. He was bigger than any dog you’d seen but there was no fear on your face when you softly petted his head, which made Alfie’s eyebrows lift. People, even some tough men, were afraid of his large mutt yet there you were, something half his size speaking to Cyril in a sweet voice.

“What’s his name?” you said, not tearing your eyes away from the dog and Alfie spoke in a mutter, a bit jealous if he was honest with himself.

“Cyril.” he said and not a second later, you cooed to the dog.

“Oh! What a handsome name for a handsome boy..” you said, speaking to Cyril as if he were a baby and as far as Alfie could tell, the mutt was enjoying the attention you were giving him.

You soon realized the man was getting agitated as he watched you play with his dog so you petted Cyril’s head for the last time and sat down in front of Alfie with crossed legs. He wasn’t jealous, he wouldn’t call it that but he had waited for you to arrive since he’d left your uncle’s mansion and all you were keen on doing was to pet the damn dog.

“You’ve been waiting then, hm?” you spoke, lifting your leg up and down and he was focused on the way your body looked under the light dress for a solid minute before meeting your eyes.

All you got was a grunt of approval.

“Disappointed?” your voice was breathy as you asked him, he seemed a bit more calm than usual which, you had learned, was not a good sign with him.

He liked speaking, any time and all the time. It didn’t matter what it was about. Sometimes he’d tell you about business, how his lads were not behaving and all their little mistakes. Sometimes it came to be about him, how he liked his rum a certain way and the way he liked the silk dresses you wore more than the cotton ones, it’s the way they make you glow, he had said.

But he wasn’t speaking at that very moment, for whatever reason he had.

So you took it on your hands, the whole silent treatment on its own. You got up slowly, his eyes were keen on roaming around your body as you did so and you didn’t hide anything. He had kissed you plenty anyway so he had felt a certain amount of your skin against his.

You slowly sat on his thigh, not straddling him but more like putting all your weight on one thigh. The man was massive, anyway, you doubted that he felt anything as you settled yourself on him. He was still looking, adamant on keeping his eyes on you.

He was a damned man, not afraid of anything other than his mum and she was not on this side of the soul anyway so he had very little to worry about. But he would never hurt an innocent person. Sure, he had killed a man with his fists before but that wasn’t the same as a small girl with a clean heart.

Although you’d speak to differ.

“You’re worried?” you spoke, reading right through the difficult man and it took him a minute to register your words.

“Why the fuck would I, yeah, be worried, pet?” he said, hand at his beard like it usually was as he looked at you with uncertain eyes. 

He didn’t know what was going through your mind and Alfie always knew what someone else was thinking.

“You tell me.” you spoke, eyes scanning his but you weren’t really there anymore. There was a flood of worry evident in your orbs and Alfie hated to see that, hated it more because you had been the one to cause it.

You were not posh by upbringing but Alfie knew the people you hung out with, the small circle you had been put in. The girls were closer to aristocracy as he saw it, dainty dresses and conceited minds. They didn’t care for anything else other than their clothes, jewels or the party they were headed to.

He had seen you once with them.

You didn’t fit in, he could tell that much. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t look like you belonged with them, if anything you looked much more elegant than they’d ever be but there wasn’t the same fake smile they had on their lips. Those groups were a must, something your uncle had requested from you since he was doing business with some of the girls’ fathers and he needed you to make a good impression.

They weren’t your friends.

Alfie knew that but the scene had reminded him that you were a small posh girl, somewhere at the top of the social elites whereas he was a gangster. He didn’t mind the commotion, he had never been the one to care for what people had thought of him but you were young, so young in fact that he was afraid that he’d ruin you forever.

You leaned forward a little, in an attempt to get to kiss him but he was deep in thought.

“Alfie.” you called for him and he came out of his daze. You offered him a slow smile but he spoke with a monotone voice instead. 

This was the gangster side of him.

“I'm gonna end up breaking your little heart in two.” his voice was low but loud enough for you to hear from the close proximity. You blinked a couple of times and got up from his thigh.

The man was so full of himself sometimes.

“And?” you said, he looked up with a confused face and let you continue.

You wanted to fuck him that night but maybe it would have to wait for later.

“I don’t know why you think so highly of yourself. I just wanted a fuck.” you said, truth hitting him right in the face in an unusual manner.

“Why not fuck one of them rich lads, pet, hm?” he said, not getting up but crossing his arms instead. He was getting angry but he’d never hurt you, you both knew that.

You scoffed at his face with a heaving chest. Your face was slightly flushed, anger evident in your eyes as you stared at him. He thought so highly of himself that it made you want to leave but you had told your uncle you’d be staying the whole night and you were, for a faint moment, tired of lying to the poor old man.

And all along, Alfie got caught up in the way that you looked.

Angry and bothered, it did things to him.

“Because I’ve done enough of that.” you said, breaking the small spell you had put him under with your angry orbs. 

He chuckled at first.

He had heard about your tactics, had never been at the receiving end. He had heard about the way you’d change your name, your whole attire and cover story. As far as he knew, you’d been a butcher’s daughter, a foreign student and even a dress maker at some point. All of these covers popped up in one night and disappeared as quickly. As he had come to learn, all these ladies had the same description.

So he connected all the dots and there you were.

“Ya’ wanna fuck a dangerous man now, yeah, that it, luv?” he said, not sounding angry in the slightest but simply very curious.

You took a moment to think.

You had seen plenty of gangsters before, some with blood on their hands and some with scarves around their neck and a blade in their hat. It didn’t matter that Alfie was a gangster, that was just how it had happened and was a mere fact. You wanted him because he had been nothing but kind patient, not because he was a criminal of sorts.

“That’s what you think?” you spoke, eyes fiery and Alfie’s mind kept on focusing on the way your chest rose and fell rather than what was being asked.

He was just a man after all.

“Is it?” you spoke once more, desperate for him to say no but he had been fueled by anger in the first place and most of the time, he didn’t mean what he said.

“Nah.” he spoke, in a heartbeat. He had been a bit too furious with you.

The business was getting to him, and all that you brought to the table. He wasn’t complaining but Alfie was not a patient man, not when it came to talking what was going through his mind and you’d known that much but his sharp words had never been directed at you so it took you a minute to regain composure.

“Then why did-”

“Luv, I’m fuckin’ sorry, yeah, I am..” he said, getting up from where he was sitting and holding your arm gently. Your eyes were no longer lit up but you just looked a bit down and Alfie knew it was because of the way he’d handled everything. “..didn’t mean to speak to ya’ that way.” he said, not using the word ‘fuck’ to ease your nerves, although it took everything for him not to.

He slowly guided you out of the living room and into his study. He was whispering sweet nothings to your ear as an attempt to get you to feel a bit better when he sat you down on his lap. Then he rambled, much like he did all the time. He spoke about how boring your uncle’s dinner was and how glad it he was that it was over and that earned a light smack to the chest from you but he made it up by telling you that it was all worth it since he got to see the pretty lass.

He talked and talked and you didn’t even realize he had gotten his hands under your skirt.

-----

“St-stop.” you whispered against his skin, his face was inches away from you.

You looked flushed underneath him, laying on his large bed while his hand massaged you under your skirt. The other hand was on your waist, venturing every now and then to explore more of the skin.

He did stop, right after you told him to.

You gulped and looked at his eyes, his face merely inches away as he looked down at you. He was making this take longer than you were used to and it wasn’t that you were complaining but you felt desperate to connect your body with his and he had every intention of doing that as well, just a bit later on.

“Jus’ fuckin’ tell me.” he growled in your ear while his hands resumed what they were doing. It earned a low moan from you, the kind that made all the pressure in his body go south. 

It had already been hard to resist you all those times you’d made out but Alfie would never cross the line, the line you had put there. He respected you and your choices and you had waited for a good amount of time before letting him in your pants, it had felt like torture for him to wait but he had. 

Another low moan left your lips, one that made your chest vibrate and it took Alfie a moment to resume what he was doing. You looked so pretty under him, falling apart each time his fingers moved.

You weren’t a virgin, not by a long shot but men usually only cared about their part of the exchange. They would handle their business and make it quick so you weren’t sure of sex could feel good for both parts or it was only designed to satisfy men.

All your questions found answers while Alfie’s lips planted open kisses on your neck and trailed down, inch by inch. You didn’t tell him anything, it was just the initial reaction of slight panic when you felt this good, when he made you feel this good. You let him do his thing, unaware of how responsive your body was being to his touch but he reveled in it.

“Alfie.” your voice was a low whisper, breathy against his skin as he worked against your core. You gulped and he smiled against his skin.

Was it supposed to feel this good?

It felt like freefalling, like you were floating but it also felt close to the edge. He was holding you in his arms the whole time, his touch gentle against your skin. It almost sounded funny, just how gentle this cruel gangster was being with you. He didn’t want you to get hurt, as he knew that was easier than he’d anticipate.

Your legs were quivering as he held you, your breath caught in your throat while you saw stars. His hand didn’t stop, it only multiplied in how dense his movements were as he watched you fall apart. Your hands were digging at his back, too gentle for him to say anything and he drowned in the way you looked.

A thin sheet of sweated coated your body as you recovered from your high, still a bit fazed at what had just happened. You knew what it felt like, just not from a man’s hand and certainly not a gangster. Your eyes soon met his, his blue orbs no longer curious but dark. He looked like he was ready to devour you.

“This is going to get me killed.” you said, your voice still a bit hoarse as you looked into his eyes.

And it would kill you, you both knew it.

Alfie would be fine if the word was ever to get out, he was a grown man who owned an empire he had made for himself. He wasn’t afraid of a lot of things but you were just a young girl who happened to have a dangerous uncle. He would be the one responsible for everything that would happen and he didn’t know if you’d come out of it as the same person you’d been at the beginning.

“Ya’ afraid, luv?” you spoke against his lips before they landed on yours.

He kissed you like a fresh breath of air, it wasn’t the usual kiss. He took his time, as if he was trying to tell you something but you were too lost in the touch of him. You moaned into his mouth and he absorbed every little sound as he kissed you.

You broke the kiss, out of breath as you looked at him, hands on his cheeks as he smiled down at you. You didn’t know if you’d want to stop, even if it were to kill you. You weren’t afraid, you knew you would be able to keep this going for at least two months, you had lied to your uncle before and had no intentions of stopping because you were sleeping with a gangster.

“It’s not that.” you spoke against his lips as he caressed your body, hands all over your soft skin. You were letting him do whatever, the time you had with him felt too precious to pass up any opportunity.

“What..” he kissed you once in between the words. “the fuck ‘s it then, hm?” he spoke against your lips and you realized he’d been staring for a bit too long for it to be ‘just looking’.

You licked your lips first, savoring the taste as he inspected you with his eyes. You’d tell him but he figured you’d need a moment before.

You weren’t afraid, not in the slightest.

“I will get into trouble, which isn’t the problem..” you gulped, a hand over your head as you looked at him. “...I’m not sure what he’ll do to me.” you let out, letting your voice be heard.

Your uncle was known to be generous but not when it came to his perfect little niece. You had gotten away with everything till now and if he found out that you were sleeping with a gangster, let alone Alfie Solomons of all gangsters, he’d get you married to some boring chap and send you to the countryside.

You gulped under his stare and he looked at you once more before speaking. He was no longer hovering above you but sitting in front of you on his bed.

“What could yer old man’ fuckin’ do?” he said, not to mock your uncle but to find out what made you feel so uneasy.

He could do many things.

He could get you out of school, something you desperately didn’t want him to do. He could easily get you married, send you off to some island people hadn’t even heard of. He would yell at you, you knew that. He wouldn’t hit you, that was a line he wouldn’t cross but he would be angry with you and you didn’t know for how long.

The uncertainty made you feel uneasy, not the fear of it all.

“I don’t know....he could easily ruin me, I know that much.” you said, a sigh leaving your lips and you sat up as well, facing Alfie as he looked at you.

“Ruin ya’?” he asked, unsure of what you meant but that was expected. You didn’t share the same culture and so, it could mean many things as far as he was concerned.

“He could get me married to one of those boring old blokes, the ones that keep asking for my hand.” you spoke, as a matter of fact.

There was quite a few of them but you’d never mentioned it before, not seeing the relevance. They wanted to marry you for your uncle’s wealth but you figured it was not of importance. It was obvious to many but Alfie had never paid attention to it before. He couldn’t deny the fact that you were much younger, a lot more innocent and in his eyes, deserving of better than he was.

“Hm.” he said, hand tugging at his beard as he looked at your sitting form on the bed, hair a bit messy while your chest still rose and fell with a faster pace than usual. 

You scooted close to the bear of a man and sat next to him on the bed, leg touching his and his eyes focused on the contact for a second before settling on your features again. You were waiting for him to speak, he could tell from the way you chewed your lip.

His hand lifted, thumb brushing against your lip and you stopped the movement of your teeth. He could see the indecisive tone your eyes held, as if to say that you were still contemplating. You’d taken risks before, big ones at that but sleeping with a gangster had never been on that list. And that gangster was someone your uncle was making business with.

Although you’d already made your decision, you concluded.

He would treat you better than anyone your uncle would find you, or even the lads you would find for yourself. There was no fear of him being crushed by your uncle, since his wrath was something your uncle avoided at all costs. You had no problem sneaking around for a while but if you were to be caught, you needed him to have your back.

“I don’t mind sneaking around, I’ve done it before...” you spoke softly and his eyes remained on you, gentle as he waited for you to finish speaking. “..but if we are to ever get caught, somehow, I need to you to promise me...” you said, not needing to finish the sentence as he knew what you were saying.

You needed him to tell you that he wouldn’t just flee.

Men were scared of power, although some were adamant on fighting it. You knew Alfie was no ordinary man but the fear of being faced with your uncle could still be something he was not adamant on doing, you thought. You watched his eyes contemplate before you saw the decision in his eyes, his face relaxing in the slightest.

“Ya’ think I would fuckin’ leave you?” he asked, not telling you his answer just yet.

He wanted to make you wait.

He liked the innocence sprawled on your features, like a little girl who needed her desires to be met. You were quite spoiled, he knew that but in no way that made him feel uncomfortable, just in the way that made him feel a little amused. He had seen rich girls before, the kind of ladies that would make hell look like a playground if their dress didn’t fit perfectly but you weren’t like them and he decided that was because of how you had been raised.

But you were still a little spoiled, he thought with a smile. 

“I didn’t say that. I was as-” you started speaking, features a little agitated but he stopped you with a smile on his lips. He was just toying with you.

“If we take this further, yeah, you’ll have a lot of fuckin’ trouble gettin’ rid of me, pet.” he said and watched your features relax.

You hadn’t slept with him yet, but you would that night.

“Good. I’d like that.” you said with a childish smile and he felt his chest vibrate.

He looked at your for a bit then, glowing under the moonlight. God you were so young but he didn’t feel the difference most of the time. It made him feel young, if anything. He smiled as his hand cradled your skull gently and he saw the determination in your eyes as your lips neared his.

He tasted all power and manly. There was a taste of vanilla you couldn’t place, and the faint smell of rum on his clothes but there was comfort in everything that he was. You smiled against his lips, straddling his sitting form on the bed and you earned a growl from him the moment your legs landed on top of his.

This was a familiar scene for all you knew but you’d ask for it this time, you felt no shame in it. 

Speaking against his lips, you kept your hands on his hair and chest as your voice met his ears.

“Don’t make me wait.” you spoke between his desperate kisses. His defense was weakened from earlier and he had no intentions of leaving things at kissing that night but he liked the idea of you begging, it made his mind go blank.

He hummed against your lips while you responded to every little action that came from him. Instead of laying you down on the bed and getting things started, he just kept kissing you for a while. You didn’t complain at first, tongues clashing as you sat on top of him with a flushed face but you were growing impatient and you needed him to get to work.

“I’m not gonna beg for it.” you spoke against his lips and grinded against his crotch which only weakened him further.

In a split second, he had you trapped under him on the bed as you laid on your back and stared up at him with darker eyes than before. You wanted this for so long and the man was making you wait which only made you frustrated.

“We’ll fuckin’ see about that, lass.” he said as he planted kisses on your collarbone and your hands found his back while he worked on kissing every inch of you.

It felt like being worshipped, like he was showing you something he couldn’t put into words.

You decided, very quickly, that you wouldn’t mind waiting. It seemed like the man had all the time in the world as he gently kissed your neck and trailed down, inch by inch as you squirmed underneath him. The night was long and he had every intention of showing you how a lady should be treated.

You moaned lowly when he bit the inside of your thigh and he was soon kissing you again. He was the one keeping you on your toes now as it got harder to predict his next move.

You would beg for many things that night but none of them would feel foreign as they rolled off your tongue.

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @jjklefttoe @ floatinginwords @opheliasbrokenmind​ @ alliss19

a/n: I’m sorry this came in so late but I truly do hope you enjoyedit and let me know if you’d like to be tagged!! There is more coming but there might be a small delay but it’s in the works <3

#alfie imagine #alfie solomons smut #alfie solomons scenario #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons angst #alfie solomons series #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons peaky blinders #alfie solomons #tom hardy #tom hardy imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders scene #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fiction #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders x oc #alfie solomons x oc

[uglypastels]

To the Beat // drummer!Tom 1/2

(a/n) here it is!!! it took about a decade of my life but i think it was worth it  also shoutout to @duskholland​ for hearing out my ideas when i was brainstorming and together with @captainpeggy40​  for getting me through my breakdowns while writing. i got it finished!! <3 I really went all out with this fic, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! part 2 will come... sometime this week ;)

word count: 7939 (unnecessary content GALORE) 

warning: drinking, swearing, crowded spaces, part 2 contains smut 

you can find the band’s setlist here

not all songs are mentioned in the fic but it’s songs that i would really love to see them play haha. if anyone would be interested, i can make a seperate post on how i imagine them playing it (who sings and stuff idk)

Read part 2 here <---> extra headcanons here

With the right stranger, one night can feel like a lifetime.

“Will you please come?” your friend begged you over the phone. “It’s gonna be really fun!” 

“You know, you say that a lot, yet I never have as much fun as you promise.” You sat down on your bed, looking out the window as the rain hit every surface outside. It was not exactly the weather you felt like going out in. 

“Then that’s on your extremely high expectations, not on me.” She stated, “But pleeease.” She kept on whining, and you knew she wouldn’t stop until you gave in. It always went like this. Always. 

“Ugh, fine.” you fell back on the soft mattress, your head only missing the pillow by an inch. “Where is it actually?” There was the question you both dreaded. You, because you knew you wouldn’t like the answer. Her, because she knew you wouldn’t either. 

“It’s at Suki’s,” she mumbled, but you could still hear her just fine. 

“That’s where you work right- please don’t tell me you’re working tonight?!” you groaned into the phone. 

“I am, but I’ll be done around 9.30 I think, so there’s still plenty of time for us to hang out! Besides, you already said yes, and NO TAKE BACKSIES!” she said this all extremely fast and screamed the last two words into your ear. Then, on top of that, hung up as soon as she finished, not giving you even a second to fight back. Not sure what happened, you stared at the black screen of your phone in confusion. 

She said the concert started at nine o’clock. Did she really expect you to go to this thing and spend half an hour by yourself? Or did she want you to sit at the bar while she poured drinks for everyone? Either way, none of those options felt appealing. For a solid minute, you contemplated just not going, just… not showing up. Turning off your phone and watching a movie or something at home. 

But at the same time, you hadn’t left the house for a long time. And it was Friday night. Why not go out and see some obscure little band. What was their name again? Your friend had mentioned it, but you already forgot. Maybe it was for the better too. That way, you couldn’t look them up beforehand, and if they were shit, you would just find out there and not have another thing to be dreading as you got ready. Or maybe they would be good. Then it would be a pleasant surprise on the spot. 

You checked the time. 7:27pm. That gave you about an hour to get ready and then some time to actually get to the bar. Should be doable. 

So, you hopped in the shower to get all fresh again. Even if it would all get ruined later on in the night by standing in a sweaty crowd. It’s the effort to look presentable that counts. Then, you picked out an outfit that would be comfortable in the before mentioned crowd. You could never go wrong with the simple jeans and a t-shirt combo. 

Looking in the mirror, the thought of Not Going popped up in your mind again. There was nothing really obliging you to go. And the idea of standing there listening to the loud music, whether it was good or not, sounded slightly exhausting. 

No, you reminded yourself, it would do you good to leave the house once in a while. Have “fun”. You checked the time once more, 8:14. You had done everything a bit quicker than you expected. The Uber you had arranged for yourself would be there in a few minutes. So, you were stuck in that kind of waiting limbo, sitting on your couch, not sure what to do. Eventually, you put on your shoes and got your keys and were ready to head out. 

The drive was quick and thankfully, mostly quiet. It was only a minute or two before you reached your destination that the driver decided to ask you where you were headed. 

“Concert,” you said hesitantly. Why did these people always want to know your business? Thankfully, the man didn’t ask much more. And then it was time for you to get out of the car. The drive actually took much less time than you had expected and there was still some time left before the band would start to perform. 

Suki’s was a bar downtown, in the basement of some kind of law firm. Their whole thing was that they let new bands and artists play each week so they could get some of the public’s interest going. Make themselves known to the world. It was literally and figuratively, an underground following that it had. Many, but at the same time, nobody knew about it. It was a secret amongst music lovers. Considering the bar wanted to stay its own secret, you never understood the bright neon lights above the entrance, going down the staircase all the way to the actual hall. 

The bar itself wasn’t too big. Enough space for a small stage along one wall, a bar on the opposite side, and the rest was space for the crowd to either enjoy or hate the music being played. When you walked in the room was still relatively empty. You saw two guys setting up equipment on stage, you assumed it was the band. Behind them was a black banner with “Winter Solstice” written in scratchy white letters. Between the words, a star that was drawn on in precisely the same rough manner. You had to admit, it was a cool name. 

Considering there weren’t many people there yet, you headed for the bar to get yourself a drink before it would be too crowded to even reach the counter. And there stood your friend, behind the bar talking to some guy. They were both laughing at something as you walked up. 

“y/n! You came!” you squealed out, “what can I get ya?” 

“A beer?” you said it more like a question. 

“Coming right up.” And with that, your friend walked off to the tap to pour you your drink. It was more out of reflex when you sat down on the stool, you leaned your head on your hand, but you understood the question from the stranger when he spoke up. 

“Not looking forward to it?”

Still with your chin on your knuckles, you turned to face him. 

“Huh? Oh no, I mean… she kind of made me come here, but-” you tried not to sound too pessimistic, but the guy saw right through you.

“So, I guess the answer is yes.” He chuckled. Right then, your friend came holding your drink and put it in front of you. 

“I’ll put it on your tap.” She was going to join the conversation but right then a group of tonight’s spectators walked up in need of drinks, so she was soon off again. 

“I’m not not looking forward to it?” nothing in your voice made it sound like you were sure of yourself, but it was enough for him. You took a sip of your beer, which you could feel helping the situation. While doing that you looked over the brim of the tall glass to look at your conversation partner. Like you, he was drinking a beer himself and considering it was almost empty, he had done that either very fast, or he had been there for a while already. 

Next, you took a look at him. From the profile, he looked pretty good. He was wearing a loose tank, showing off his arms. His dark curly hair was held back with a black cap that he wore backwards. What definitely stood out to you was his jawline. It looked like you could cut yourself on it just with the slightest of touches. For everyone’s sake, you quickly turned your gaze over to the extensive liquor collection in front of you. But you could see in the reflection behind the bottles how he was smiling to himself. He definitely saw you stare. This was awkward, and you only got here two minutes ago.

“So, do you know the band?” you asked in the hopes to weed out this weird situation you had created. For some reason, your question made him smile. In that type of way as if you had just mentioned an inside joke. Except you weren’t in on it, so you couldn’t laugh along. 

“Yeah, they’re alright.” He shrugged. Then, as if he suddenly remembered something, he shot up straight in his seat. “I’m Tom, by the way.” 

“y/n.” Then you remembered how your friend practically screamed out your name when you walked in, “but you already knew that.” Your phone vibrated with a text, so you took it out and immediately saw the time, it was already past nine. You looked over at the stage where the two guys were trying to untangle some chords. Clearly, it wasn’t starting anytime soon. 

“What kind of music do they play?” You asked Tom while still looking at the band trying to get ready. 

“A bit of everything, I suppose.” 

You bit your cheek not to say anything that might come off rude, but he could still read you. 

“I guess that wasn’t the right answer?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“I just hoped to get something more specific, but as long as they’re good, I’ll enjoy it.” You took another sip of your beer as an excuse to shut up. He must think you’re such a bitch at this point. You saw him glance over your shoulder at the stage and then smile at you. 

“I like you.” there was that chuckle of his again, “I’ll see you later, then.” And he got up. You were gonna ask why later? Why couldn’t you hang out now? You didn’t like to admit it, but you enjoyed his company, even though it was only brief and most of the time you spent it making yourself look like a moron. As superficial it made you sound, you simply enjoyed the presents of a good looking guy like him.

You were going to ask him, but he quickly disappeared into the crowd that started to form along the foot of the stage. More and more people were coming and joining in. The two guys from the band had finally untangled their chords and were placing their guitars over their shoulders, and plugged them into the amplifiers. That’s when you noticed that a spot was empty on the stage. The big drum set had no occupant yet. 

So, while everyone waited for the drummer to show up, you took this time to look at the other two band members, trying to decide which one was the cuter one. 

That turned out to be slightly more difficult of a task, you quickly realised. Though they were both very different, they were both also extremely good looking. There was the blonde, strumming a few simple chords on his guitar to warm up. Even in the dim light, you could see how perfectly chiselled his face was. He was wearing a slightly oversized button-up shirt with about half of the buttons open. The skinny jeans didn’t seem comfortable to you, but he made them work. The rings on his fingers reflected in the lights as he kept on strumming. 

The other had a bit more of a playful vibe around him. His curly mop of hair bounced with every move he made. You could hear his loud and contagious laugh all the way from the other side of the room without the need for a microphone. His outfit was something completely different compared to the blonde. It consisted of a baggy t-shirt (that you could read the band logo on), with ripped dungarees that were only attached on one side. He had rolled them up, showing off his bright converse. His bass guitar was currently hanging behind his back as he adjusted the mic stand one last time. There was something familiar about him, though you were sure had never seen him before. 

Then finally, a third person joined them. People cheered since it meant that they could finally start playing. You tried to get a good look at him before he hid behind the drum set. Hair was hiding beneath a cap, tank top… wait… was it-

You got up and walked through the audience. There weren’t that many people, so it was reasonably easy to get to the front. Or, almost at the front row, standing right in front of them felt a bit intimidating. Now you could see all three of them much better, and there was no denying it. Your new acquaintance Tom was the drummer. And when you looked over at the curly bassist again, you realised why he looked so familiar. It was not an identical resemblance, but there was enough that made you think they were related somehow. 

You watched Tom spin one of his drumsticks in his hand. He had the biggest smile on his face, then he caught your eye and winked. The cheeky bastard knew exactly what he was doing, you were sure of it. He was waiting for your surprised reaction, and you fell for it completely—hook, line and sinker. 

The curly one got up to his microphone. “Hey everybody, we’re Winter Solstice,” his voice was much deeper than you had expected. Especially, considering that he actually looked younger than the other two, you noticed. “We thought you’d appreciate some more known songs tonight, so join in whenever.” 

Alright, they were gonna do covers. That was not a wrong move at all. A lot of bands want to show off their own music, but most of the time that leaves the audience just swaying awkwardly because they don’t know the lyrics or what to expect. 

“Here’s one you all should know.” 

The blonde started playing his guitar, and it only took a second or two before everyone realised what song it was. Mr Brightside. It sounded a bit different, as their attempt to make the song their own, but the riff was unmistakably Mr Brightside. Everyone around you immediately cheered and started to dance along, waiting to sing the lyrics. You were too, of course, but all you could think about was Tom playing in the back. He looked so focused, but still didn’t let it sit in the way of enjoying the song. 

In the song, the drums probably only started a beat before the lyrics, so you missed out on the first few words, but quickly you were singing too. 

“But she’s touching his chest now, he takes off her dress now. Let me gooo,” the blonde guitarist sang. His voice wasn’t perfect, it was rough, some might have called it cursive, but in that right sort of way. It fit well with the rest of the band and how they played. In just a minute, they had gotten the entire room hyped up. Everyone was into it. Maybe it was because of the song choice, but you doubted it. A song like that can be tricky to sing to a new crowd. If you screwed it up, they’d hate you forever.  

That was definitely not the case here, they had the crowd in the palms of their hands. With each beat, you were pulled in…or, was that just you? 

The second verse started, and it was the bassist that began to sing: “I'm coming out of my cage, and I've been doing just fine-” There was no clear description of his voice. At least you couldn’t really pinpoint it. There was definitely that playfulness in it that he had been showing through everything he did. He couldn’t stay still, jumping in place, making his curls bump up and down as he went. 

“It was only a kiss” 

It was Tom that said the little interjection in the song. You had only looked his way at the end, while the other was already singing, but you felt as if he had been looking at you directly. No, he wasn’t. Why would he? You shook the thought off and continued enjoying the performance of the three men. You sang along just like everyone else. 

And then the song ended. It was almost unbelievable that it had only been one song that they played, but they moved on to the next quickly. 

The guitar faded out but came straight back, accompanied by a heavy bass line. Some people around you recognised the melody, but it took you a moment or two. Then it went quiet. The blonde leaned into his microphone, whispering the words. 

“I’m the invisible man,” guitar riff “I’m the invisible man,” guitar, “Incredible how you can- see right through me!” His voice got louder as Tom joined in with the drums. Then those few seconds of bass followed which actually sent shivers up your spine. To put it simply, you were a sucker for good bass and beat. But what was it about them that sounded so good? You couldn’t think of anything particular that would have set them apart from all the other artists you had seen perform in the club through the years… 

Still, seeing them have so much fun on stage, it was truly intoxicating, you wanted to join them. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen someone jump around on that little stage while playing bass. You couldn’t wait to find out what their names were, but for now, “the curly bassist” didn’t take a second to stand still. The only time he stood in one spot was when he had to sing, and even then he moved around a lot. 

The others didn’t have that same luxury. Of course, Tom did not have a lot of options, sitting behind his drum set. Yet still, he managed to light up the stage with his bright smile and the passion he put into his drumming. Any time you looked at him, you didn’t want to look away- which was hard, considering that the other two were also a great joy to watch. 

The blonde, in his turn, stayed on his side of the stage, being somewhat stuck with his microphone since he had the most vocals. But he still had a great connection with the audience, you felt like. 

Before you knew it, the second song had also come to an end. Cheers and applause erupted in front of the band, with you contributing to it as well, of course. 

“Thank you, thank you,” the bassist took a little bow. Even though they weren’t playing any song, he still slapped one of the strings mindlessly. “Like I said, we’re Winter Solstice. My name’s Harry.” He introduced himself. Finally, you could call him something else than the curly bassist. Even though it was a very catchy nickname, you thought yourself. 

“Here on the guitar,” Harry pointed out, “Is my good friend Harrison.” Harrison waved to the crowd, receiving screams from the audience as if it was filled with banshees. 

“In the back,” Tom immediately started a soft drum roll, but Harry didn’t wait that long, “that’s Tom.” Tom reacted with a face that could only be described as “bruh”, making several people around you laugh. You wondered if it was rehearsed or if this was just how they were. Either way, it was cute. 

Harry talked some more about how they were excited to play tonight, but you were looking at Tom. You watched him grab a water bottle and drink half of it in almost one chug. When he pulled it away from his mouth, you saw that he caught you staring. Even though you were between dozens of people, even though the light that was shining in his face- he saw you. And he winked again. In the next moment, you had to think if the heat burning through your body was an effect of that little gesture or because of how warm it was in the room. For your own sake, you went with the second option. 

“Alright, here’s another song for you all,” it was a voice you hadn’t heard speak before. Harrison. “Here’s: You Oughta Know.” There was a mixed reaction from the audience, including you. Of course, you knew the Alanis Morisette song, but you had never heard it be played by men.  It was definitely an interesting choice for them to play, especially after the Killers and Queen. 

“I want you to know that I am happy for you,” it was Tom that started singing, as he drummed softly. You tried to control your thoughts as he kept on singing. Then the pre-chorus began, and you were shocked at how well they harmonised. 

“Cause the love that you gave that we made wasn't able to make it enough for you to be open wide.” It actually gave you chills. How were you so excited about listening to three strangers sing? 

At the chorus itself, everyone in the room went wild, singing along loudly. It was clear that the people were sold on this new version of the song. It was all fine. You were enjoying the show. It was actually fun. And then, Tom sang the next line- 

“It was a slap in the face. How quickly I was replaced. And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?” It sure was a slap in the face. You had to remind yourself that it was just the lyrics of the song. And he was just a guy on stage that you had only exchanged a few words with prior. Yet, you couldn’t focus on anything from that moment on. You could barely comprehend their version of “Are You Gonna Be My Girl”, not even really understanding that they were playing a different song. It was just a big blur. But maybe it was for the better, because could you really cope with Tom singing the titular phrase of the song in that husky way that he did... debatable. 

When you woke up from your daze, Tom had stood up to show the crowd the beat to clap to. You joined in before anyone noticed how far out of it you indeed were. Harrison finished the song off with a falsetto and then it was already time for the next song. 

This time you knew what to do. You wanted to record at least some part of the show. And when harry started a bass solo, you made sure to get at least a bit of it and continued filming from there, ready to post it on your Instagram later on. Harrison joined in with the guitar, and you actually had no idea what song they were playing. More people didn’t seem to recognise the song immediately, which visibly amused the musicians. They couldn’t hide their grins even behind the microphones. Once again, the harmonies… how did they sound so good? 

As the song continued, the more sure you were that you had heard it before, but it must have been very different from the original. No, actually… How did you not recognise Dua Lipa? It was not hard to forget about the original when you got to listen to this version. How had each song so far been this good, you still didn’t understand. You didn’t want it to end. 

But unfortunately, right after that, they took another break from singing. 

“Alright!” Harrison cheered (more squeals from his side of the audience followed. Apparently he had started to gain quite the following). “The next song is another classic, I like to think.” People whooed. “So we’d like some help from you guys if that’s okay.” The crowd seemed to be into it, so Tom followed with the instructions. 

“Okay, so we’re gonna start playing in a sec, and Harry will sing a little melody. Just copy that, and we’ll be on our way.” In the meantime, Harry had gone off stage to grab a bottle of water, so everyone had to wait for a second. This gave Tom the opportunity to freestyle on his drum set. It was a simple beat, but it progressed into a more complex set. He, however, did it effortlessly. 

Finally, Harry came back running, he threw bottles to the other two, which they both caught without a problem. Tom started to press the bass drum steadily, layering more on top of it. Then Harry joined with the bass, and ultimately, Harrison’s guitar finished it off. Harry leaned into the microphone. 

“Ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, ooooo-ooo-oo-oo, oooo-oo-oo,” he almost whistled, but not quite. He continued a few times, together with Tom and Harrison until everyone in the room was singing along. Then made that kind of gesture to show you had to stop. Harrison sang the verse. Anytime it was your turn, you’d just follow Harry. 

You had been to many concerts, but not many new bands had much luck in getting a full crowd to participate in the song. But by the way they played, everyone just wished they could be in the band, playing along with them. Even if it was just dangling the triangle. You, however, didn’t want that, necessarily. You assumed that it was the fact that you hadn’t been out of the house in so long, that now that you had the chance, everything felt hundred times more great. So a concert that was already amazing, suddenly felt like a euphoric, once in a lifetime, experience… though that might go a bit too far. And it for sure helped that all three band members were hot. Like, really really hot. 

Literally, too, the room was getting really warm at this point, and the guys were visibly hot also. It didn’t stop them from performing at 110% though. A few songs more passed by and Harry was still jumping around the stage. Harrison sang every note perfectly as he slew that guitar of his and Tom… 

You could barely look at Tom. Playing the drums as hectically (in the good sense) as he did, you thought he would be exhausted by now. But he still had that big perfect smile on his face. The sweat was dripping down his arms, but it just highlighted his biceps, making it very hard for you to concentrate on the music. And then, no matter what he was doing, he would find you in the crowd and smirk or wink, making you even more flustered than you were before. The first time, you thought he was doing it to someone else. But then it happened again, and again. And the beat of drums led your heart. You could feel it in your throat as it kept pumping with the loud music. 

It was during their little break which they used to goof around and play the intro of “Chelsea Dagger”, that you decided to go back to the bar. Your friend had said she wouldn’t leave you alone for the entirety of the concert, but you were already quite some songs in and there was still no sign of her. And you quickly realised why that was. Since the show had started, the entire room had filled up with people. You had never seen it be so crowded, in fact. And then the bar was packed with people asking for their drinks. 

Your friend was indeed there, with another bartender, doing her best to pour the drinks quickly. But more and more people got thirsty, so it was easy to assume you would have to spend the rest of the night alone as well.

By that time, the band started on the next song of their setlist, and you really thought they were playing one big joke on you. Or at least this Tom guy was. As he loudly sang Sex on Fire, by Kings of Leon, you decided to sit this one song out from the front row and stay back, near the bar. It actually did you well, because it was much less hot than upfront. You could just stay there for the rest of the show. They had been through around ten songs already, so they must be done soon, either way, you thought. 

And you were right. Ending with Come Together, the applause was bigger than through the entire night. The boys finished with extended solo’s of their respective instruments and a bow, and it was really over. Harry came up to the microphone one last time as the other two were already getting off stage. 

“Thank you! We are Winter Solstice! Buy our merch at the door! GOODNIGHT!” 

The idea of buying a t-shirt was pretty fun. And apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought that. Far from it, actually, The line at the little merch booth quickly exceeded the length of the small concert hall. You wondered if they even had enough things to sell. Would it even be worth it to stand in line? You just waited for the stream of new fans to cool down.

Eventually, it did. Slowly, but surely, the line got shorter. You also noticed that there were a few people that had the exact same idea as you had, so you joined the queue before the rest could. You didn’t even have to wait that long. Before you knew it, you were standing at the little table. There were piles of t-shirts and cd’s, and there were more boxes behind the table too. They really came prepared. Harrison had just been folding up an empty box when you walked up. 

“Hi. Can I get a (your size)” you asked, already pulling out your card to pay, “and a CD?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Harry grabbed a shirt for you with a smile. Tom had been talking to the girl that had been in line in front of you, but he quickly turned to look at you when he heard your voice. 

“y/n!” He finished the conversation with the other girl before moving over to join his bandmate. 

“Hey,” you wish it hadn’t been so, but a lot changed since the first time you spoke to him, let it only have been about an hour. There was something about him being in the band you just watched perform and buying his merch, that made you feel like a little school girl standing next to him. 

“I thought you had left.” He noticed you leave? Not the point. 

“No, I just went to the back. It was getting a bit hot for me upfront.” 

“Ah,” he nodded. “Did you enjoy the show then?” 

“Yes!” you said, a bit too loud, “You guys were great.” You looked at the CD that Harry had just handed you and smiled. “And I was wondering if you could maybe sign this for me?” Out of nowhere, Harrison appeared behind Tom, grabbing the CD from your hands and putting his signature right at the centre of the packaging. Just as quickly as he appeared, he went back to whatever he was doing before. But not without sending you a wink first. What was it with these guys and winking? Not that you really minded it. 

Harry took the slightly more polite approach, waiting for you to hand him the CD and he signed it above Harrison’s signature. Then he handed it over, together with the marker, to Tom. 

“So, we got ourselves a number one fan, huh?” 

“No, I’ll just wait ‘til you guys get famous so I can sell it on the internet and get rich.” That was probably not the response Tom had expected, which you immensely enjoyed. Next to him, Harry erupted in a fit of laughter. 

“Haz, did you hear that? She thinks we’ll be famous.” His laugh was even better close up. While Harry and Harrison kept on laughing, you used the moment to speak to Tom, one on one. 

“So why didn’t you tell me you were in the band?” you asked. 

“What does it matter,” he chuckled.

“You let me ask all those questions about the band, it’s fucking embarrassing, man.” you couldn’t help but laugh yourself. 

“Heh, sorry.” he took off his cap to rearrange his hair since some of it had fallen in his eyes through the night. You didn’t know what else to say, so the conversation died down. Then you remembered that there was still a bit of a line behind you of people that wanted to buy the merch as well. 

“Let me just pay for these, and I’ll be off.” 

“No, it’s fine, on the house,” Tom said. You looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Are you sure? It’s really no problem.” 

“Yeah, just promise me one thing.” 

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect. You didn’t want to jump onto that wagon too quickly. 

“Will you stay? I’d really like to hang out.” 

You weren’t sure what to answer at first. You did want to stay and talk to him, but it was getting late, and you had been standing for a long time, and you were kinda gross from how warm it was during the concert… but Tom was really hot. And he asked so nicely. 

“Sure.” you gave in. “I’ll hang out with my friend at the bar and let ya get back to-” you pointed around the table to make your point across. He nodded and waved you goodbye as you walked away, clutching on to your newly bought merchandise.

Just like you thought, your friend was indeed still at the bar, cleaning up leftover glasses from the counter. She saw you walk over and you could tell she saw something different in you. 

“Look at you beaming, girl! What happened?” she put away the half-dried glass to listen to you. 

“Nothing?” you said casually. She saw right through you though, so you just decided to give up the little act. “Tom asked me to wait behind for him.” You bit your lip, expecting to get a lecture from her. But none of that happened. Instead, she squealed out in, what seemed like, excitement. 

“Ooh, Tom is such a great guy!” 

“You know him?” you asked, surprised. 

“Well, he was the one that got their band the gig here, so we talked here and there, mostly planning,” she explained. “And I mean, look at him.” she sighed and her eyes glazed over a bit when she looked in the direction of the merch table. Not sure what else to do, you followed her action and glanced over. Of course, right at that time, Tom decided to look in your direction as well. He smiled and waved lightly, making your cheeks heat up and quickly look away. Your friend, however, waved back enthusiastically. 

“So you think it’s safe for me-” what were you even gonna ask her? 

“Go have fun, I say. But if anything does happen, remember the codeword?” Her tone changed to a more serious one, which you appreciated. You had agreed ages ago on a codeword to use. In case a date turned for the worst, or generally if something felt off. 

“Broccoli, baby. I know.” 

“Broccoli.” She held up her hand for a high five, which you gladly accepted. 

You chatted for a little bit longer. Every few minutes tho, you’d be sure to glance over your shoulder to see if the merch line was getting any shorter. It didn’t seem like it. There was simply no end to it. You felt yourself getting frustrated. To the point that your friend actually pointed it out, snorting from holding in her laughter. 

“He has got you whipped, hasn’t he?” she bumped your shoulder playfully. All you did was roll your eyes. Which, actually, said everything she needed to know. He did, didn’t he? You always had a soft spot for musicians, dated a few. But comparing them to Tom now… it felt like a joke. There was something about this guy that made you want to know more about him. You wanted to see him play and sing again. You wanted- do a lot of things. But you had to get that out of your head. Let the night speak for itself, see where it leads you. If it would be his bedroom… that would be fine. Just fine. 

You knew you were crazy for thinking all of this, but a girl can dream, right? 

You looked across the room and were glad to see that there were only a few people left. Harry had already started packing everything up that would most likely not be sold that night. You watched the three of them make some small chat with the people walking by, but all your real focus was on Tom and his deep stare right at you. It made your heart beat faster. With his arms across his chest, the muscles seemed even more prominent. 

He was suddenly pulled back into the conversation, and it was as if he changed into a different person. All bubbly, none of that- what even was it that he looked at you? You decided to not think about it too much. One does not do well when dwelling about anything. 

Finally, the last person bought their shirt, and they were done. Hoping it didn’t make you look too desperate, you didn’t waste a second to walk over to them. Harrison and Tom were helping Harry pack up the rest of the things that were left on the table. 

“Hey,” you said awkwardly. Tom almost dropped the stack of shirts he was holding. Again, the attention fell to his arms. You had to force yourself to look up at his face, which didn’t help much either, but it made it easier to think thoughts that would not mean a one-way ticket to Hell. 

“Hi! I’m so glad you stayed,” he said after putting those shirts in the box. “I thought we could go grab something to eat. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He spoke really fast, just showing how excited he was to talk to you again. To be honest, you weren’t necessarily hungry, but going out to eat with Tom didn’t sound too bad. 

“Don’t you have to pack up?” You pointed back to the stage that still counted all of their equipment. 

“No, we’re playing here tomorrow, again,” Harrison explained. 

“Oh, cool.” Was all you said. It was cool, you just didn’t know how to say anything without sounding dumb. 

“Well, shall we? There’s a diner on the way to my flat. It has the best burgers.” Tom exclaimed. You ignored the little mention of his apartment and focused on the burgers. He wasn’t suggesting for you to come over to his place. It was just a fact… right? 

“Lead the way,” you told him, but before you left, you turned to the other two members of Winter Solstice. “It was nice meeting you guys.” Everyone waved, and so on, and you were off to eat. 

It was almost midnight by the time you got there, but the diner Tom had mentioned did advertise as a 24/7. And it held up. When you walked in, you were practically hit in the face with the delicious smell of pie. You sat down in a booth next to the large window and very soon after a waitress walked up. 

“What can I get ya?” she asked, flipping her little notebook open.  

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries, thanks,” Tom asked. Then it was your turn. 

“Just large fries for me, thank you.” The waitress wrote it all down, then continued to ask if you wanted anything to drink. 

“Ooh, do you have milkshakes?” The woman smiled and nodded. “So a chocolate milkshake then.” You ordered. 

“Make it two,” Tom added. Then the waitress went off, Tom leaned on the table toward you, with his hands in front of him. “So, just fries, huh?”

“I’m not super hungry, and I wasn’t going to steal your fries,” you explained, making Tom laugh and shake his head. 

“You’re interesting, you know that?” 

“I like to think so, yeah,” you answered straightforwardly. It was a pity you had not gotten your drinks yet, or you would have taken a very nonchalant sip. You leaned your chin on your hand, just like you did at the bar before the show. Except for this time, there was a smile hiking up the corners of your mouth. Tom mirrored your position. 

“So how did you guys come up with the name?” you had been wondering that ever since you saw that banner hanging on the stage. It was always interesting to find out the thinking process like. 

“You gotta ask Harry, he came up with it one day, and we just went along. He’s the more artistic one of the bunch.” Of course he is. Well, that didn’t answer anything then. But another question popped up in your mind.

“Are you guys related?” 

Tom smiled at that question. “Yeah, Harry is my younger brother. Harrison has been my best mate ever since I can remember. We’ve always been close and messing around. Then one day we decided to grab some old instruments from the attic and- sorry, I’m probably boring you, aren’t I?” He took off his cap again and ruffled his hair. You thought he would put it back on, but he left it on the table. There was pretty good lighting at Suki’s, but the colourful spotlights were no match to the bright LEDs of the diner. 

“I don’t see how you thought that was boring,” you assured him. You truly enjoyed his little story, talking about his friend and brother. You had doubted the choice of going out to eat so late at night with a stranger, but now the reason was apparent. He didn’t want to be strangers-he wanted to get to know you. And you wanted to get to know him.

The waitress came back with two large milkshakes, topped with whipped cream and syrup. She said that the food would be ready in a few more minutes and left you to continue your conversation. You nudged Tom on to go on where he stopped previously. 

 “So yeah,” he cleared his throat, “we played and thought, hey that doesn’t sound shit, and we practised for a few months and decided some time ago, why not try and play.”

“Was this your first gig?” you asked in disbelief. He shook his head, though. 

“We’ve performed a few times, but this was the first one that felt… real, you know. Maybe it was just me, but I felt this great connection with the crowd, and it felt great.” You nodded along with every word, without realising that you had been getting lost in his eyes. He had been looking into yours as he spoke about that connection, and it made you feel that maybe, just maybe, he meant you specifically. 

“y/n?” He eventually asked, waking you up. You almost spilt your milkshake from the abrupt movement you made as you tried to sit up.

“What? Sorry.” You held the glass until it didn’t shake. 

“I asked if you enjoyed it? The show?” 

“Didn’t you ask that already?” Stupid way to answer! “But yeah, I loved it. You were really great- I mean, all of you.” but especially you, you wanted to add on, but that felt like going too far. As you were trying to come up with a normal-sounding answer there, Tom sipped from his milkshake. Something in his eyes told you that he could tell what you wanted to say, and that thought scared you a little bit. All you wanted to do was to give this hot guy a good impression of yourself, was that really that hard? 

But he didn’t say anything about it. Just continued the conversation as you hoped he would.

“Well, I’m glad. Honestly, you had scared me a bit back then, when you left,” he admitted. And there were the heart palpitations again, beating faster and faster. You grabbed the cold milkshake because you could feel yourself getting hotter. 

“How so?” you choked out. 

“Just because I could tell you weren’t exactly looking forward to the show, and then I saw you leave and didn’t come back. I thought you didn’t like us.” Us. He said “us”. Then we did it feel like he just wanted to say “me”? 

“I wanted to check up on my friend, and then I realised that it was much colder in the back, so I stayed there.” you explained again, “But why be worried about me, there were plenty of other people enjoying themselves.” 

He was about to answer when the waitress walked up with two large plates. She put them on the table with a smile, which you noticed was more directed towards Tom than you. He responded with a tight smile himself, but only shortly, turning back to you quickly to respond to your question. 

“No one there was as cute as you.” 

“What?” This time you made sure not to make any sudden movements to save your food and drink on the table. Did he really say that? But he didn’t clarify himself, he just smirked, enjoying your flushed expression a little too much. He put a fry in his mouth and still ate it with that smug smirk. You just went and ate some of your own fries, avoiding eye contact with him. You just needed a second to sort your thoughts. 

That second lasted a little longer, but at least you had the food to use as an excuse to avoid “awkward silence”. 

“So do you play any instruments?” he asked. You looked up to see that he had almost finished his burger. When you saw the dish being brought up, you thanked yourself and any god watching out there that you didn’t choose to order one. It was absolutely massive, meaning you would make a complete mess out of yourself—a sight for no one to see but your tv screen on a lonely night. 

“Uh, I can play a few notes on the piano but all very beginner's level.” You dipped a fry in your milkshake. 

“Like what?” He seemed genuinely interested. 

“Uhm.. the Flintstones theme song, for one. There was more, but I haven’t played in ages, so I doubt I remember anything.” 

“Flintstones, huh, nice.” He took the last bite of his burger. Knowing how weird it is to look at someone when they’re eating, you looked out the window for a second. It was dark outside, and the rain had come back, letting all the street lights reflect in the asphalt. 

You both finished the remains of your fries and milkshakes while making some more small talk. You got up simultaneously from the booth. Was it over now? You hoped not. You didn’t want to say goodbye. 

You grabbed your things while Tom paid for the food. Then you realised he had left his cap on the table so grabbed it too. But your hands were already full, so you decided to just put it on. Backwards, just like he had been wearing it through the evening.

“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door. 

“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.

“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.”

To be continued...

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to be tagged in part 2! 

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