#i wish i could wake up early without a murderous intent

[nocturnalghoul]

Call Off Your Bloodhounds

Okay this is something that I thought of the idea and then started writing only to scrap it and start over like 3 times, so I’m happy to finally have it done. I started out with the intent of writing evil irredeemable special, but then took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up with Special who uses his brotherly connection with Cowbell as like a grounding point so he doesn’t get lost in the cruelty that he so deeply loves.

This is one of three fics that I plan to post today on my birthday as a sort of reverse present. Enjoy! I'll link the other two fics here and here once I get all three posted

Oh also I'm tagging @askingforthesun because its the lads and I know you were excited for this one.

Summary: All the best tall tales need a villain, and there is one ghoul in particular who is especially good at this. The PR ghoul would be lying if he said the trail of hushed whispers that followed his wake didn’t bring him pleasure. If he focuses hard enough he can catch glimpses of the horror stories exaggerating his skilled exsanguination. There is so much praise for his ability to play nice for interviews, but it's lovely to see his other more unsavory talents given proper recognition.

Words: ~1.6k

Warnings: Mild mentions of violence and gore but nothing direct, blood, murder ghouls

Read on AO3 here or under the cut

The majority of siblings within the ministry would agree that there is almost a mythological quality to living alongside ghouls in the beginning. That spell eventually gets broken by the hijinks of the everchanging friendly pack of band ghouls, but for the ghouls that tend to stick to the background around the abbey that feeling never really goes away. 

Siblings can occasionally manage to sneak up and catch a certain unnerving earth ghoul unaware, or see a lightning quick ghoulette mid-hunt performing some magical feat, but it always ends up the same way. They rush back to tell their tale with all of their friends hanging onto every word with almost childlike enthusiasm.

All the best tall tales however, need a villain, and there is one ghoul in particular who is especially good at this. The PR ghoul would be lying if he said the trail of hushed whispers that followed his wake didn’t bring him pleasure. If he focuses hard enough he can catch glimpses of the horror stories exaggerating his skilled exsanguination. There is so much praise for his ability to play nice for interviews, but it's lovely to see his other more unsavory talents given proper recognition. 

It hadn’t always been like this. Long ago he was part of a pack, living the boring existence of a random ghoul serving the satanic church and fading into the background just like the others. It was one young woman in particular who recognized how exceptional he really was early on into her rise to the top. She recognized just how sublime he was at tracking down those who wished not to be found. His particular brand of quintessence was never suited to the infirmary, but was excellent for finding the loud thoughts and racing hearts of those attempting to hide and for intuiting exactly how to tear and rend in order to take down his prey without a fight. 

The other ghouls could get away with the occasional disappearance, but never with the frequency that he does. This brand of death and cruelty would be punished if performed by any other, but he is a very special ghoul afterall and that affords certain privileges. At this point it’s almost a game to determine is that stain in the carpet from a forgotten breakfast or a forgotten sibling.

The newer ghouls aren’t exempt from getting caught up in the stories either. 

Cowbell has reached the end of the tour he had been leading the recent summon on, but can tell there is still something on his mind. “So did you have any questions or concerns?” they prod gently. 

There is a long pause as the young ghoul attempts to figure out exactly how to approach the subject. “Well there's not really a problem, but something is bothering me. That one quintessence ghoul kinda freaks me out considering all I’ve heard about him around the abbey, but one of the other guys said he is fine as long as I ‘don’t fuck up’. Do you have any advice on that?” the summon sputters out, trailing off at the end. 

“Oh, do you mean Spesh? I told them to stop freaking out the new ghouls. He’s totally chill so long as you avoid trouble and don’t act like an idiot.” 

Almost as if on cue, Special emerges around the corner attempting to hide something behind his back. The new summon is clearly staring directly at the splatters of blood on his uniform and streaked across his face, but correctly decides that pointing it out counts as being stupid. “I saw this weird plant while I was in the woods on business and thought of you kid” the quintessence ghoul says with a friendly smile. The plant has been haphazardly shoved into what was clearly the first pot Special could steal from the greenhouses, but has clearly been dug out of the ground with care if the dirt caked under his usually immaculate nails is anything to go by. “Enjoy” he tacks on before sauntering off, undeniably picking pieces of somebody out of his teeth.

The new summon stares in confused terror as Bell beams while fussing with the plant. “See, he is such a thoughtful guy.” they chirp before dismissing the new ghoul and leaving to replant the present. 

~~~

Cowbell isn’t a fool, he recognizes the destruction that Special reeks on a regular basis. He also knows that the monster that everyone else sees is not the complete picture. While everyone else treats him like a campfire ghost story made real, he knows that Special doesn’t do anything without a reason. With his old pack having long since forgotten him, Bell is really the only semblance of a pack he has left.  He has always been a big brother to Bell, and nobody could possibly come close to understanding either of them as well as they know each other. 

It’s a point of pride for Cowbell, to be a grounding point for his brother whenever the tides of chaos grow stronger. Special might have a talent for wickedness, but he isn't unreasonable. 

All of the carnage he sows starts as a command from the heads of the clergy or for their benefit, even if he allows himself to get swept away in the stories at times as well. 

Today however is the worst he has ever seen Special get lost in the thrill of the hunt. It had started with a task from Imperator, something or rather someone that her best ghoul was so wonderfully equipped to deal with. The mistake came in her trying to get Omega to interfere. She had a morbid curiosity if another ghouls quintessence would confuse Specials senses, not realizing exactly the frenzied ghoul she was creating. 

Instead of the cold calculated cruelty everyone was used to, the ghoul was leaving a frantic messy trail in his wake. All of the siblings had been moved to sheltering in the heart of the abbey until everything quieted down, with the ghouls taking residence at the perimeter or out in active pursuit. 

Cowbell however is strolling through the grounds as calm as ever, taking note of the trail of destruction his brother has strewn until he reaches the center of the main courtyard. They sit down patiently, legs crossed and hands folded in his lap, on the stained cobblestones and wait with his back turned to the main gardens. 

A few times another ghoul on guard duty wanders by and attempts to convince them to go inside where it's safer, but Bell laughs and waves them off. They hear one of the passersby mutter something about how if he doesn’t have any self preservation that's fine with her and politely decides to ignore it. If he knows anything, it's that Special would never hurt him. 

Special is exceptional at sneaking up on people, but has never been able to sneak up on Bell no matter how quiet he is. The loud crunches and clicks that Bell hears drawing closer is so out of the ordinary for the ghoul that they almost doubt it’s their brother approaching until they feel the familiar buzz of their magic in the air. 

“Well well little ghoul, what are you doing out here in the open like a fool, hmmm? Are you a tasty treat for me to play with?” Special rasps breaking the eerie silence. 

Bell cautions a glance out of the corner of his eye, but sees no sign of recognition on his brother's face. Whatever Sister’s little experiment was must have been so much worse than any could imagine for Special to still not recognize him this close. 

The quintessence ghoul surges forward, pulling Cowbell abruptly up off the ground before freezing completely. As Bell takes stock of the ghoul in front of him he struggles to recognize the one he cares for so deeply. Special is absolutely drenched in blood, his clothes ripped and disheveled due to his carelessness. The wild bouts of magic swirling inside of his eyes is hypnotizing but Bell pushes past it, looking for the spark of recognition finally present within them. 

Bell lays a tranquil hand on his brother's face and smiles weakly, reaching to move the mask off his face. “It’s over Spesh, be done.” Normally the quintessence ghoul cannot stand to go maskless, but for Bell he has always had a weak spot.

The deathgrip on Bell’s collar disappears as quickly as it arrived as his brother slowly crumbles to the ground. “I’m sorry.” he mutters, barely audible. 

The two sit there while the ghouls trying to track Special down trickle past, heading inside to let everyone else know that the threat is no longer. They both ignore them all though and continue a quiet conversation as if the entire proceedings of the day never happened. 

After half an hour, Imperator comes out of the main door leading to the courtyard with a team of ghouls to clean up the chaos that has been sewn. With a particular quick nod from her, Special shoves his mask on, picking himself up and heading inside to clean up and find a fresh uniform. 

“I appreciate the role you played today” she remarks to Bell, watching the team of ghouls head out towards the general garden grounds. 

Cowbell can’t help but laugh. “Listen, he will always follow your orders with pleasure and without hesitation. It's who he is. However, the next time you decide to use that fact for a sick experiment, I shall take it personally. You would do well to remember that I do not come to heel as easily as he does either. Goodbye.” they sneer before heading inside after Special. 

As important as a villain is to a story, they would be nothing without their motivating force.

#nocturnal writings #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost #cowbell ghoul #special ghoul

[bearsgrove]

time really flows differently when you have to be awake early to do things and then you have some free time and then do things again and repeat and then i check the time and it's not even 3pm and i feel like i have been awake for 72 hours

#fern.txt #not saying this is Bad tho #i just wish i wasn't so tired #but like. being awake early is quite neat. it really feels like you have more time during the day #i know this is obvious lmao i just. do not realize it living the way i live on a daily basis #i wish i could wake up early without a murderous intent #it's like. i actually love early mornings a lot. i just cannot function like this. i can't go to sleep early to wake up early :/ #so when i do have to wake up early it's nice and horrible at the same time. #i just want to kill someone. i am Unaproachable in the morning i might just attack you if you look my general direction. #well it probably really is the lack of sleep #but like i said. i don't know how to solve this .-. i simply physically Cannot fall asleep before midnight #i can go to bed and lay awake for 4 hours but that's a waste of time right #Ugh #i wish i was a morning person basically 😔

[sukunarii]

Pairing: Yandere! Sukuna x Reader

Warnings: (Sukuna’s Era!) Yandere | Unhealthy relationship | Murder | Blood| This fic is much darker than my usual style! Please beware when you read it. 

Synopsis: In the early morning, you would play your koto in your garden. It was a show for one audience: a stranger that refused to step out of the shadows. A stranger that perhaps grew too fond of you.

Wordcount: 3.0K

A/N: A koto is a Japanese instrument kind of like a harp. Also this fic might be very historical inaccurate. This fic is inspired by a poem by William Blake titled “Song:  When early morn walks forth in sober grey.” 

The sky was gray on the day you first spoke to him. It was early morning, you were in your garden, under the gazebo as usual where you go to practice playing your koto. You enjoyed it, for it was one of the only times where you could feel absorbed in your own world, in your own solitude and tranquility. However, you have noticed that lately, you were not so much alone.

"Behind the willow tree, I know you're there," you called out. You could see the shadow shift, but the person behind did not step out into your view.

"I see you have noticed me," a masculine voice replied. It carried a hint of playfulness.

"Of course I have, you've disturbed my peace for a few mornings now," you replied.

"Am I not welcomed?", he asks.

"What brings you here?", you asked back immediately.

His answer did not come as quick as yours, as if he chose his words carefully  "I was captivated by the music you played," he complimented you.

You were flattered, you had to pause and recollect your thoughts for a moment. If he is just here to listen....well there's no harm, right?

You let out an airy laugh, "As my only audience, I supposed you are welcomed to stay." 

You resumed to playing your koto. From behind the willow tree, Sukuna stole a few glances at you. Along with the beautiful music you created, you looked so effortless and absorbed in your own world while playing. A world that Sukuna could step a foot into by observing you from afar but felt too delicate for him to disturb. You were like an angel while he was a curse— a monster. He shouldn’t have any business with a girl like you. 

Yet you called him, 'My only audience'...he liked the sound of that.

You were playing for him only, and he was glad that he did not even have to capture you for this. After all, a caged bird does not sing the same.

However, the serenity of dawn was disturbed by the loud and abrupt chime of the bell.

With a jolt, you stopped playing.

"Ah, that was the wake up call for the village, I got to go now," you said and got up.

From his shadow, you see him stand up too. You hesitated but decided to ask anyways, "Will you tell me your name?"

He laughs lightheartedly, "A musician does not need to know the name of their audience."

The buds on the dull brown branches were blooming into beautiful flowers that decorated the garden. Summer was approaching. It became routine, he would come to your little concert every morning. It was romantic even. You did not know who he was, but sometimes you would carry little conversations with him. You knew that he was not from the village, he said he travelled up from the valley every morning to visit you.

Knowing that he was not from the village also gave you a sense of security as you could tell him anything and everything without worrying that he would spread rumours. Afterall, you were the daughter of the richest man in the village, from suitors to enemies to your family's reputation, there was so much that you had to keep to yourself. You've learned to express these thoughts into the music you played, but being able to say them out loud in words was relieving.

He was your audience and you were his musician.

Nonetheless, most of the time, very few words were exchanged. It was just you, him, your music in the air and the garden in the surroundings.

You were wearing a purple kimono the day you asked him if you could see him. He gave you the same response as the day you asked him for his name, "A musician does not need to know the appearance of their audience."

You sighed, disappointed, "How about if I ask you as a friend?"

From the flickers of his shadow, you could tell he hesitated. Your heart started racing, in hopes that you will finally see your mysterious friend. But, you were left disappointed, "Not today, my darling. You're still not ready yet."

You looked at his shadow quizzically, what did he mean by not ready? Did he have self-esteem issues? Or a scar? Or was he really ugly...? Not that you would have minded of course, you pouted, "That's not fair. You get to see me all the time."

He chuckles, "I think this is for the better."

The urge to show himself to you or even take you for himself was very strong. However, he had to hold himself back, he didn't want you to be afraid of him. For one, you just called him a 'friend'. And he knew that if he did show himself however, this friendship would be over. You were an angel. He was a curse. Sometimes fate was cruel that way.

The green leaves that fell from the trees were fluttering in the summer breeze. Lately Sukuna has been observing you more and more throughout the day. Instead of rampaging the nearby villages, he would spend more time observing you from the outskirts of your village.

The more he observed, the more he noticed the amount of unsolicited male attention you get when you stroll in the village. Had he not been a curse, he wished he could be strolling by your side and indicating to all of those nuisances that you were his.

The village was not very large, thus, Sukuna has come to recognize most of the faces. However, one time there was a strange man with black hair that appeared in the village. Not that Sukuna cared much as long as he didn't try to flirt with his little darling — except the man did this very thing: he stopped you.

Sukuna could not hear what the man said to you, but he could certainly feel the rage rising in him. The urge to kill this man was very strong. In fact, in the heat of the moment he feels like he could kill everyone in this village to prove his point. Seeing another man try to talk to you so intimately enraged him. He has held himself back multiple times from rampaging your village and taking you home with him. Taking you as his. But for your sake, he has managed to suppress these dark thoughts. But not this time.

He approached you, or specifically the stranger menacingly...with killing intent. But once he was in hearing distance, he heard you tell the man firmly,

"I'm not interested."

The man paused. But insisted again, "Why not? I can treat you right."

"I'm interested in someone else," you told him.

Sukuna paused. Were you talking about him?

"What? No way, who might this be and how come I've never heard of this before! You're just making up lies to turn down my love," he argues back condescendingly.

You shot him a dirty look and you tried to leave but he grabs your arm, “Hold it there girl, I’m not done talking yet.”

That’s it. You slapped him. Not a weak slap, a hard one. The man's face flipped towards the other side.

"That is none of your business. Now if you would excuse me," you said angrily and turned around and left.

Sukuna smiled, 'That's my girl.'

He didn't even have to do anything.

You ran your hand through the calming blue water of the pond in your garden. You have strained your hand from playing on the koto for too much, they were sore and calloused. You tried inviting your friend to come feel the water too but he refused, insisting on remaining well hidden from your view.

"He is from this powerful family, the Zenin clan I believe. And he seems really interested in me."

Sukuna didn't answer.

"But I'll keep rejecting him, I don't like him and don't care for his advances," you rambled on, then sighed, "However I can't say the same for my parents. They are interesting in getting a hold of the powers of the Zenin clans."

"Why don't you leave the village with me?" he finally answered you.

You didn't think he was serious, but you entertained his idea, "They're not just your normal powerful families. They are very powerful as in even if we leave the village, there's nowhere left to run."

"Then I'll just kill them. Everyone of them."

You laughed bittersweetly, what could he possibly do against them when he was too shy to even show himself to you? The Zenin clan was one of the most powerful sorcerers of the eras!

"Haha, yeah that would be nice. But with all of the curses rampaging the nearby villages, we really need the Zenin clan's protection. It really sucks but they're powerful jujutsu sorcerers, it's a miracle that our village is not destroyed yet unlike the our neighbouring villages,” but swiftly, your fake optimism fades. You couldn’t play your koto today, but this stranger was your friend and talking to him gives a sense of comfort. He was listening to you and he was trustworthy.

You say softly, “If only something happened to their third son so that he would stop trying to woo me all of the time...." then, you laughed sheepishly, "Of course I'm just joking haha, I mean it's awful to wish death on someone..."

But Sukuna only heard the first part.

With summer abruptly coming to an end and winter approaching, sunrise came later every day. The sky was still black the morning you broke down crying to him. It was moonless.

"I-I know I said I wished he was d-dead, but I didn't mean it f-for real," you said between your sobs, "I just didn't w-want to marry h-him, but he got killed by a curse and I f-feel like I cursed him."

"Wasn't that what you wanted?", the intonations of his voice came out as cold as the autumn air. However, you were too absorbed in your sadness to pick up these nuances.

"No! I would never truly want anyone to die! That’s awful!”

“Now you won’t have to worry about unsolicited attention anymore,” he answered briskly

You hugged your knees closer to your chest and buried your face into them, “It didn’t make a difference...the Zenin offered their s-second son instead..., so it wasn't cancelled regardless..."

"What wasn't cancelled?", Sukuna asked.

"The wedding...”

Sukuna's jaw tightened. He was upset. Furious. You’ve mentioned that the Zenin family was interested in you but you’ve never mentioned that there was anything official. He didn't like that you didn't mention this to him at all. 

"Leave with me."

This time it wasn't a question. It was an order. Yet, you refused it again.

"I can't. I can't leave my family behind like that...if I run away, the Zenin clan would bare a grudge against them, who knows what they’ll do..."

For the first time, Sukuna finally stepped out of the shadows.

But you didn't notice, nor did you see him, the obscurity of the lightless sky hid him from your vision.

"Pathetic, why would you care about family that are selling you off to strangers? This is why you humans are so weak. Being emotional for things that do not matter," he says, words dripping with menace.

Your eyes widened, alerted by the swift change of mood. Tension high in the air. He did not sound like the friend that you knew. It’s as if he was a real stranger.

"That's not true! It's wrong to be selfish, they're my family. I have to listen to them and it's for the best of the village," you tried to reason but you were worried that he could hear the slight fear in your trembling voice.

"Oh yes because the Zenin clan will protect your village from curses. You think too highly of them. When I killed that nuisance, he was crawling and crying, begging for his life. He may be a little stronger than your average jujutsu sorcerer but he was still a weak human." Sukuna was tired of keeping up his calming and human-like demeanour. He topped off his statement with a sadistic laugh.

However, you didn't answer him. Not immediately at least, you were soaking in the words he just said. You gasped.

"Y-You mean you killed him?!"

You took a step back in shock and fear. You were told that he was killed by a curse...if this stranger you've befriended was a curse and one strong enough to kill someone from the Zenin family....you were in deep trouble.

Sukuna continued laughing, "Ah, yes I killed him. I sliced his body into pieces but I preserved the head so he could be recognized. It was a masterpiece, you should of seen the expression of anguish on his decapitated head!"

All of his efforts of wanting to preserve this friendship, fearing to taint your innocence, and scared of not being delicate around you, all thrown away in the heat of the moment. It didn't matter anymore, not when annoying jujutsu sorcerers were going to get in the way and take you away from him.

You screamed, "Get away from me, you monster!"

Your fight or flight instincts kicked in, this man in front of you— no this curse in front of you— was not a friend. You have befriended something much more sinister, he was a killer. A powerful killer and from the enthusiasm in his voice, he was a sadistic one too. You turned to run back to your house.

To your surprise, he didn't follow you. He watched you and even if you can't see him, you can tell that he was smiling.

You didn't dare to leave the house the days before the wedding. You were also too scared to tell anyone about your foolish encounter with a curse. Instead, you urged your parents to push the wedding earlier. The earlier the better, much to their delight.

Luckily, you did not hear about him and it seems that things have returned to normal. But your instincts say otherwise. If you play with fire, you ought to get burned. And you seemed to have attracted the attention of something very ominous.

You were wearing white on the day of the wedding. A veil covering your face. As per tradition, you were patiently waiting for your groom in another room, waiting for him to lift the veil off your face and take you to the main ceremony room to present you to the invited guests and families. Then allow the head of the households to pronounce you as husband and wife.

Maybe it was your nervousness, it seemed that every minute went by slower. Almost as if the ceremony has been delayed. But with your eyes covered by the veil, all you could do was wait.

Then finally, you heard someone approaching you. You feel a hand gently lift the veil off your face. To your surprise, the person who brought you out of the darkness was not the second son of the Zenin family. There he was, the powerful curse that rampaged villages: Sukuna. You might be the only person who has seen all four of his arms and eyes up close and lived to tell the tale. Not that you would have anyone to tell this to.

He was covered in blood. You were not sure who's but from the silence and the lack of wounds on him, you can formulate a pretty good guess. You drew in a sharp breath and jerked away from his touch, hoping to crawl away even.

"Help!", you shouted out hoping that anyone would hear — anyone at all....wasn't half of the Zenin household here? What were they doing?

"Shh, I was late because I had to take care of some trash, but don't worry, I'm here now," Sukuna says to you. You recognized his voice right away.

You were so terrified that you didn't even notice tears started coming out of your eyes. You struggled to get away from him, you clawed at him, tried to push him away, but it didn't work. He didn't even flinch.

"(Name), stop that before you anger me," he warned you.

You didn't listen.

"You're a monster," you spat at him and you tried to slap him but he stops your hand midair, the blood on his hands imprinting onto your white kimono.

"I'm not like those pathetic Zenin, you'll have to try harder if you want to hit me," Sukuna says with a taunting voice.

Despair washes over you. He was right, if even the Zenin couldn’t win against him, then what could you do? There was no way you could win this nor escape him.

When he carried you bridal style out towards the main room of the ceremony, you’ve stopped struggling. The room was plastered with blood. You recognize some of the body limbs on the ground, the remains of the guests, of your family, of the Zenin family. They were barely remains, mostly just little pieces. You had the urge of throwing up. No one was coming to save you.

It was just you and Sukuna.

Sukuna laughs, he can hear the whiplash of the puddles of blood as he steps over them. He was proud of his work, "Just like usual, only you and me. I'm your only audience."

The blood that covered him stains onto your previously white kimono.

Sukuna always compared you to an angel. And he was a curse—a monster. You two were not meant to be, fate was cruel like that. But Sukuna can be even crueler.

You are his bride.

And it was a red wedding.

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #ryomen sukuna #yandere sukuna #yandere sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x reader

[taechaos]

New Idea

pairing: Step-brother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

warnings: non-con, bondage, pseudo-incest, sadism, smut, mentions of killing

synopsis: You wished to hang out with your brother Taehyung when he wasn't home, only to realize he was better off staying away.

word count: 3.2k

It was late at night. Rain flooded outside, drops trickled down your window and puddles formed on the roads as they reflected the neon lit storefront signs beautifully. The tears from the clouds splashed against the cement loudly, and you watched the empty streets in boredom. With your cheek leaning on your palm, elbow propped up on the round wooden table across your window, you miserably yearned to feel some sort of sugar rush with a deep frown on your face. Things have been mundane, repeating the same old routines as days quickly went by. You wondered what Taehyung had been up to in the time that he’d been gone. You knew he could resolve your boredom instantly had he been right beside you.

Taehyung – your step-brother who was the embodiment of adrenaline, and was most likely awake with you right now. The man never slept, always staying up at night brainstorming ideas for what to do during the day that was no doubt just as exciting as the day before. Bags adorned his eyes that somehow fit his wild persona that never needed asking for permission to do things that were illegal most of the time. It was especially daring when having strict parents, and the only reason he wasn’t locked up in a mental institution was because he was the pride of your family with excelling grades in college that he rarely ever attended. They never approved of anything he’d done, especially not the teal hair he was currently rocking. You on the other hand, looked up to him as a role model.

What you’d do to see him right now. Sometimes he tagged you along with his adventures, such as exploring abandoned buildings and getting matching tattoos on your forearms that he chose. Despite the rebellious acts he put you through, he always defended you against your parents and got away with everything with a light scolding from his smooth tongue. Admiration wouldn’t begin to describe the amount of respect you had for him, though he was rarely ever around. Unbeknownst to you however, he never failed to go a day without pecking your cheek while you were unconscious. 

He was everything you aspired to be: a carefree soul with a creative mind and a heart filled with exhilaration. The only thing he hadn’t done was probably murder. It was a shame that absence made the heart grow fonder, because throughout the time you’d known him since your early teens, he hadn’t changed one bit with his disappearances that could go on for days. 

Taehyung never changed.

Was this what they called depression? Feeling numb and hating your life for how ordinary it was? You didn’t know, but what you knew was that you really needed Taehyung right now. It was 3AM and your parents were sound asleep in the apartment while you moped over how much you missed your step-brother’s presence. Not a single moment was dull with him, while you were too much of a coward to go through with any of your desires.

And as if your prayers were answered, a pound came on the door. The loud knock instantly gave away the person behind the door; Taehyung, who never cared for how loud he was unless he was on a stealthy mission.

Your heart skipped a beat as the door swung open and the silhouette of your step-brother entered before it was slammed shut with a lock. “You’re awake?” he asked in a whisper without moving an inch when he noticed your seated form.

“Can’t sleep,” you breathed, unable to hide the joy you felt upon seeing him in your tone. He couldn’t have picked a better time to visit you.

“Why not?” he walked over to you before kneeling. There was a smile on his face that matched yours, instantly giving away he came to your room with purpose. It was expected, for he never approached you if not to tell you about one of his newer ideas. 

“Was bored.”

“So was I,” a mischievous smirk graced his face. The street lights outside illuminated his messy hair that your hand itched to ruffle. “But I found us a solution.”

Your eyes gleamed with hope, your grin never faltering. “Tell me,” you impatiently urged, your knees already bouncing up and down with excitement.

“I’ll give you a hint: we’ll both be having fun. But you need to listen to me,” he cautioned with a raised finger. You nodded frantically, willing to do whatever he needed you to do. “Okay, stand up.”

You obeyed him and only then noticed the bag slung over his shoulder once you stood before him. “Let me do all the work, yeah? You just stand still.”

“I really want to know what it is,” you whined and bounced on your feet. 

Taehyung held onto your tits that bounced with you and you quietly gasped. “Better not be acting like this with anyone other than me. Naughty,” he scolded before unzipping his small pouch. 

“I don’t go out without a bra,” you rolled your eyes playfully. Taehyung was notorious for doing and saying things without a filter, uncaring of the effect it had on others. This was simply him looking after you without any boundaries, because he never set any with you.

He pulled out a duct tape from the mystery bag. “Turn around and hold your hands behind you.” You complied without protest, the ripping of a duct tape resounding in the room as he tore it with his teeth. He taped your wrists together like cuffs before facing you again by the pull of your shoulder. 

Confusion washed over you, but not a trace of fear. “What’s this about?”

“Now go lie down,” he ignored you and nodded at your bed. You sat on the center, your sheets already rumpled from all the tossing and turning you’d done in an attempt to sleep. His figure loomed over you and your heart raced in anticipation. “Don’t move, okay?”

You silently watched him with piqued curiosity as he pushed you down. The soft mattress dipped under your weight and you didn’t move a muscle until you felt him tug at your flannel pajama pants. “Taehyung? What are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” he ignored you again and you furrowed your brows as he undressed you. “You’re going to like it.”

Without a single clue of his intentions, you expected him to change your pants after he took them off, but definitely didn’t expect him to aim at your panties next. The second he held onto the hems, you crawled away from him and repeated more firmly, “Taehyung, what are you doing?”

He yanked you back to him by your ankles. “Don’t you trust me? You said you’d listen to me.” 

“I don’t think I want to do this,” you strained and tried to pull your knees to your chest, but he tightened his grip on your ankles.

“It’ll be fun, just sit still,” he spoke airily, his tone unbothered compared to your worried one. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Once you felt somewhat reassured, you relaxed your legs and lied back down. The discomfort swallowed you whole when he undressed your bottom half completely. The chilly air hit your bare legs and left goosebumps in its wake.

“You shouldn’t be shy about being naked with me,” he chuckled and tapped your pussy carelessly. You yelped and bent your knees again. 

“Taehyung, this isn’t right,” you stressed and clenched your thighs together. You were growing wary about this ‘idea’ and you weren’t sure whether his pupils were dilated because of the dark anymore. He could be high. “Let’s try something else, please.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he scoffed and spread your thighs apart, hovering over your loins. “You’re going to love this, just calm it.” He grabbed the duct tape again and tore off a smaller piece before placing it on your mouth, making your efforts of leaning away fruitless. Your voice was muffled behind the sticky tape as you shook your head. “Don’t make me tape your legs too,” he warned as you tried pushing him away. He sat on your knees as he began unzipping his washed denim jeans, ignoring your babbling.

“Been watching a lot of porn lately,” he began casually as tears brimmed in your eyes. “I usually find it boring, but I came across a video that I couldn’t resist reenacting. Plus you were bored too,” he defended, “it’d be mean if I spared my little sister of this fun.” 

You didn’t know whether he was joking or not, but you were ready to start crying if he was actually doing what you were thinking. You sighed in relief when he reached for his pouch for a pair of scissors. It had to be a joke then–

Taehyung began cutting your shirt from the middle, and you whimpered when your tits were on full display. Your nipples hardened as a result of the exposure, and tears immediately began streaming down your face mixed with muffled sobs.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” he exclaimed, “we’re not related by blood. It should be fine.”

When you continued crying, he said, “I’ll take off my shirt too, if it helps.” He heaved his t-shirt over his head, his firm chest hard to make out in the midnight dark. “I was thinking kissing would ease you into it, but only if you’re quiet.” Your cries grew louder instead. He sighed exasperatedly, “You can be such a crybaby sometimes.”

He started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, and you whimpered at the feeling. You were ticklish and though you were completely terrified, the kisses were a bit soothing. “This is me being nice to you, because oh boy, that guy in the video was a fucking monster,” he laughed while going down the valley between your breasts. A finger flicked your nipple while his other hand rubbed over your folds. “Want me to eat you out first? You’re not wet enough.”

You shook your head in refusal, so he merely shrugged and began circling your clit instead, his fingers now pinching your nipple. His mouth latched onto your other nipple and he swirled his tongue around the areola, clashing pleasure with pain. The rain drowned out your involuntary moans but Taehyung caught them anyway; it wasn’t hard to miss when your arousal began coating his hand. He released your nipple with a pop and locked eyes with you. “You’re enjoying this? Not gonna lie, I was expecting you to cry longer but... you're a little slutty, aren't you?” He slapped your pussy experimentally and smiled when you moaned loudly. “Keep this up and I might just take off the tape.”

For a moment, he wondered if this was why people enjoyed sex so much; your moans were like music to his ears and your body was making his cock throb even more. He could really get used to this, he thought as he slapped your pussy over and over, the sound echoing in the room along with your high-pitched whines.

“Shit, I need to record this,” he mumbled before reaching for his phone on his back pocket. Your protests went to deaf ears as he began recording your pussy and spanked it, the microphone picking up all your sounds of pleasure. Once it reached the one-minute mark, he threw his phone on your pillow and took out his erect length from its restraints, giving it a few pumps as the tip oozed with pre-cum. “I never thought fucking you would be this easy. Thought about it every time I touched myself.”

You went quiet at the revelation and he smirked at your raised brows. “Why are you surprised? Whenever I’m home, you come hug me with your bare tits pressed up against me. Not that I’m complaining of course,” he chuckled hotly. “Want me to kiss you now?”

When you didn’t respond quickly enough, he ripped the tape off of your mouth without mercy and your eyes teared up at the pain with an ouch. He didn’t waste a second in enveloping his lips with yours as he cupped your pussy, smearing his pre-cum on your labia. He swallowed your moans as his mouth moved vigorously, tongue meeting yours as he explored your cavern. The smacking of your lips caused you to clench your hole, the sound arousing to your ears as you kissed him back.

“You going to stay quiet for me?” he murmured against your lips, his cock poking at your hole teasingly. You hesitated but nodded nonetheless. “Good girl,” he praised with a grin and lightly pecked you before properly positioning himself.

The reason why Taehyung was so eager to have sex with you wasn’t just because he was horny, but also because really wanted it to be your pussy that he fucked first, and maybe second, and third. He was a virgin who watched too much porn when he wasn’t outside, and now that you were 18, he thought it to be the perfect timing for you to lose your virginity to him like he’d imagined when he was 15. 

Due to his experience, he didn’t ease into your pussy and instead shoved his cock entirely. You screamed and he instantly put a hand over your mouth. “Too much?” he asked with a strained voice. His cock was just begging to be thrusted into you, but he couldn’t have you screaming and waking your parents. When you nodded with eyes shut in pain, he groaned to himself. He was twitching inside you, and after a few seconds, he began moving.

You were crying and bitching again, but he paid no mind to it as he pressed his hand onto your mouth while gently slamming his hips into you, his courtesy for now. You'd adjust sooner or later, but the stretch was excruciating; your walls stung and you started to bleed on him.

"Oh fuck," he giggled sadistically once he noticed the crimson fluid, "that didn't happen in the video." He gazed into your glossy eyes before quickening his pace, growing rougher. "You're crying again; what's new?"

Taehyung was laughing as he was moaning, but you couldn’t hear anything except for the ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded and you were struggling to breathe through your nose as he fucked you relentlessly. 

“I kind of feel bad for you,” he panted with a sinister smile. “Does it still hurt?” He took your sobs as a yes. “Poor baby,” he cooed with a pout before moving his free hand to your clit. “This might help.” You were struggling with your bound hands, but you couldn’t move your legs because of how much it hurt. Your fighting was useless, and your body was growing numb except for the thumb that made it less painful.

Taehyung removed his hand from your mouth to hear your moans clearly. Whether it was from pleasure or pain, he didn’t know, but he loved it. He wanted to be the only one to see you in this state. He’d gauge out any eyes that got to see you naked and stab any ears that got to hear your pretty sounds.

But it was a little difficult to savour it when he was reaching his climax so soon; damn inexperience and the low stamina that came with. He had enough self-control to pull out of you to finish himself off with his hand. He missed the warmth and tightness of your pussy and how it kept clenching down on him quickly, but it had to come at a cost – not cumming inside you.

“You fucking monster!” you yelled hoarsely, eyes blurred with tears and face covered in tears.

“Too loud,” he sighed and forced your mouth open to shove his length inside. “Try anything, and I’ll fucking kill you.” His cock was heavy on your tongue as you gagged on it every time he thrusted. It wasn’t long before he released in your mouth and you choked, swallowing his cum without a choice. Another loud moan erupted from him as his hips stuttered while gently slamming into you for the last time.

“Fuck,” he exhaled before collapsing on you with his palms holding up to not smother you completely. “Shit, you’re such a good fucking girl.”

When he raised his face from your shoulder, you spat on him. He laughed hysterically before wiping off your saliva from his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, damn.”

“You’re the fucking worst Taehyung,” your voice wavered as you insulted him. “I hope you rot in hell. I always saw you as my role model, but now I understand why everyone fucking hates you.”

“Sheesh,” he snorted, “I told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I? It might hurt now, but it’ll feel a lot better when we do it again.”

“If you try-” he cut you off by going down on you, taking his clit into your mouth and immediately emitting a moan out of you. “Stop, stop, stop,” you chanted in gasps, trapping his head with your thighs and contradicting your words. He chuckled against your swollen pussy, making it feel even better and yet worse. This euphoric sensation wasn’t what you needed after being traumatized by your own step-brother, but it was what your body wanted after getting a taste of his tongue. 

He was slurping up your juices and spitting on your folds before abusing your clit again. The bastard knew how to distract you from your newfound grudge, but you weren’t going to forgive him after your orgasm. Your hips moved against him on instinct as his tongue ran up and down your labia. A knot formed in your stomach, your tears long forgotten as you became more persistent in riding him in this awkward position. He heaved your thighs over his shoulder to take full control, and with his vigorous sucking and pulling, you came undone with a spasm.

“Feels good, right?” he asked rhetorically and fell limp next to you.

“I’ve never hated someone as much as you,” you seethed while recovering from your high.

“You’re going to tell me that wasn’t fun? No way,” he stared at you in disbelief.

“You hurt me,” you sniffled and covered your face.

"I'm sorry princess," the nickname felt foreign on his tongue as he held your arm. "I'll leave forever if you want me to."

He hummed when you stayed silent with a runny nose. "I'll clean you up and go, okay?"

"No," you huffed. "You become my slave for a whole month."

"You want me to stay home with you?"

You nodded while rubbing your eyes with your fists. "You can't do that and just leave, and I hate you but I miss you."

Taehyung resisted the urge to squeeze your cheek and coo. He knew you'd regret asking him to stay, but he wouldn't say no to spending time with you 24/7.

Chuckling through his nose, he said, "I miss you too." He traced the tattoo on your forearm, a minimalistic mockingbird with an arrow slicing through the middle. He picked it because it represented you; an innocent little thing who didn't even look down at her wound, only focused on flying back to Taehyung, a hawk that waited with open arms - ready for his meal.

If you wanted him to stay, then that's what Taehyung would do. You'd fallen for his trap twice, the third wouldn't be so bad. He'd make sure you enjoyed it this time.

#bts #kim taehyung #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #kth #thekpopnetwork #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios

[missyasf]

Game Of Hearts

| 3 |  

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 9.5k

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Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together! 

3rd Day Sojourn 

“Looks like we got a smartass here don’t we?” 

You felt torn on whether to intervene or not. Chishiya, was by no means a hero or a prince charming. You didn’t need to know him to know he was going to be the last person to save you out of good will. Not like you needed saving regardless but you couldn’t help but wonder what his motive was. 

Chishiya still had that cold smirk on his face, as if extremely amused at the furious Niragi you had held him up by the jacket, even face to face he not once had a change in expression, as if he just genuinely didn’t care about whatever Niragi felt. 

“Probably because I am smarter than you.” Chishiya lifted his chin a little a devious icy smile on his lips like he was getting a rise out of the way Niragi simmered and growled at him, his hands tightening around his jacket and you were briefly worried if Chishiya didn’t shut up that he was going to be beat into a pulp. No matter how smart he was, he couldn’t outwit his way from getting throat punched. Although...you wouldn’t deny a secret part of you would find that mildly funny. You also wanted to throat punch him on certain occasions. 

“I believe that’s enough Niragi.” Everyone paused at the sight of someone new arriving, Ryu had gotten out of the pool to stand next to you and Hiroko as he whispered, “That’s number three, Kuzuryuu. He often keeps everyone in their place when Hatter isn’t around.” 

Niragi stuck his tongue as he began to cackle, letting go of Chishiya. Breathing in relief you relaxed a little as everyone did the same. Just within a split second though you could hardly comprehend the sight of Niragi immediately decking Chishiya right across the jaw who was knocked off balance. People were already intervening as you stood there gaping. You didn’t think Niragi would actually punch him. 

You had thought Chishiya’s expression would’ve changed but much to your disbelief it was as if he was even more settled into his resolve, grabbing his jaw as a viscous smile appeared on his lips, spitting out blood as he goaded, “So you agree then? Anyone with half a brain would be able to reply instead of resort to violence.” 

Did this man really wanna die on his first day in the Beach? 

Niragi was pulled away and back to his group with steam practically pouring out of his ears, attempting to get back to Chishiya before he was yanked back by perhaps the most physically intimidating man you had ever seen, “That’s number 2, Agni, the leader of the militant sect.” Hiroko clarified to you but it fell on deaf ears as you hurried over to Chishiya, now feeling immensely bad that regardless of his intentions he was hurt for what? Gloating? Was his ego truly that big, “God are you insane!?” You cried out in a whisper kneeling down, your maternal instincts on overdrive as you grabbed his face immediately checking for any bruising. 

Chishiya almost like a cat that didn’t want to be touched pulled away from your grip unappreciative, “I don’t like annoying or stupid people.” He replied immediately, his eyes leering ungratefully, “And he was ruining a perfectly good day for me. If you think I’d care for someone like you then you’re more delusional then you look. Besides it’s just blood, it’ll go stop.” 

Ouch.

You rolled your eyes at him deciding to not take his words to heart though a tiny part of you wondered if he only said that due to the conversation you both had last night. Or maybe he just really didn’t care. Regardless it didn’t matter, “He had a fucking rifle!” You whispered angrily, “I get it, we aren’t best friends but I don’t wanna see you get shot you asshole.” 

“We aren’t friends at all,” Chishiya replied coolly, his eyes analytical and calculating, his gaze like ice that glared you down as if you were his new target for a reason unknown, “We aren’t even acquaintances. We’re just strangers and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I don’t need your concern or care, so stay out of my way.” 

You felt thoroughly indignant at his words as you clenched your jaw, “You know what? I doubt you’ve ever had anyone care for you and I can see why. I hope he hits you harder next time you jerk.” This man drove you utterly insane! And you couldn’t even understand why. Chishiya was so cold and for no reason…! 

Walking back to your pool chair you snatched your shorts, “Y/n…! Y/n! Are you okay!?” Nanami hurried to your side, you had forgotten all about your sister being in full range of the horror show she had just finished watching between you and Niragi. Probably too scared to try and intervene and you didn’t blame her. Had it been anyone else besides your sister in your shoes you would’ve kept to yourself as well. 

“I’m fine, I’d say you should check on Chishiya but apparently he doesn’t need anybody!” You flailed your arms before plopping down on the seat still mad, “What a…! A…! Pathetic, bitter way to live! He’s so conceited!” You curled your fists as you pulled your shorts up before buttoning them as you grabbed your sheer cover up jacket. 

Nanami frowned as she grabbed her hands, “Well…” You whipped around in anger, silently staring at her, just daring her to try and come up with some excuse for this guy. Nanami, was a soft hearted person, she never wanted to judge a book by it’s cover and always gave the benefit of the doubt. You admired that about her, but you sometimes wished she was a bit more….realistic with people, “I’m sure he’ll come around.” She decided to not pursue her original words as she offered a weak smile. 

“You can deal with that if you want, but I’m done with him. Anytime I try to be relatively nice, I just get spit in the face.” Huffing you crossed your arms, “I’m going on a walk.” And true to your words you did, you needed to be by yourself for a while to clear your head after what had all transpired just minutes ago. 

“Originally I helped run a ranch but I wanted to see all the sights so I moved out of my pops and came here to the city!” The music was loud in here and so many people were dancing, makeshift stripper poles had been made and honestly. You understood the Beach was supposed to be an escape, but that didn’t make it a bit of a pathetic sight to see people attempting to swing around and accidentally break it. Multiple times. 

You were currently sat at the table with Akari, Hiroko and Ryu everyone having a fairly good time and the longer you talked to Hiroko the less intimidating she became, “I don’t really remember much to be honest,” Akari scratched her head as she hummed, “Just that after I finished putting groceries up I saw fireworks out of my window.”

You straightened up in curiosity, you had seen the same thing! “Yeah we all did,” You slumped at Ryu’s words as he frowned, “Nobody can remember anything after seeing them except waking up here in the Borderlands.”

“What were you guys before this…?” You asked, not wanting to linger for long on just where you were, in a city that was a replica of Tokyo with only a handful of what? A hundred people, maybe a little more? You didn’t have the mindset right now to even try and grasp what was going on or what had happened. 

“I was a lawyer,” Hiroko answered first, her expression clearly proud and you’d imagine why, this meant she was older than you! “I did quite a bit of traveling around and dabbled in attorney work for awhile...That’s what my dad wanted me to go in as,” She rolled her eyes, “But I found I’m better at building a case.” 

Somehow...you weren’t surprised, you smiled regardless wrapping your arms around yourself, the more you talked to them the more comfortable you began to feel, “One morning I was late to getting to the courthouse and this idiot ended up spilling coffee on me,” Hiroko’s words may have been harsh but she looked Ryu with the softest expression you had ever seen her wear.

Obvious fondness in her eyes, “It was by chance he did that I like to think it was by fate I ended up meeting him again except he was behind the counter at the coffeeshop I always went too.” 

Ryu’s cheeks dusted pink as he gave an awkward smile, “I worked evening shifts but got switched over to mornings, best decision I ever made! I’m currently in my last year of college for being an art curator!” 

“A cure what now?” Akari cocked her head to the side and for some reason the three of you busted out laughing at her as she parted her lips, “Hey don’t laugh! I’m being serious! Is that some kind of professional coffee maker?” 

You closed your eyes giggling as you shook your head, “What about you Y/n? What were you before all of this?” You paused for a second at Hiroko’s question as the table quieted down, suddenly your memory swiped back to the night of the fireworks. What happened at work, how you were supposed to go to class the next day. How your night ended early.

“Ah…” You rubbed the back of your neck as you sheepishly smiled, unsure of where to even begin. It wasn’t that...you were ashamed of your work you just- felt often misunderstood by people. Anytime you said you were a sex worker you either recieved wild looks and suddenly you were treated lowly or people- men in particular would begin to send you uncomfortable innuendo’s. 

 “Ah…! Y/n!” You straightened up at the muffled screech that sounded like your sister as your eyes shot around the room only to find Nanami fumbling towards you with a whine, suddenly hiding behind you as you frowned standing up, “Good! Good! I’m glad you’re here!” She chuckled nervously as your expression contorted. 

“Where is that bitch!?” 

Oh...why did this seem vaguely familiar, “What did you do?” You hissed as you turned to Nanami as she rubbed her neck sheepishly only for you to whirl back around again at the sight of a raging woman, the most notable feature her breasts nearly spilling from her loose bikini top as she pointed an accusing finger at your sister, “Why don’t you stop being a slut trying to get with MY boyfriend and take it up with me!” 

“Nanami!” You hissed as she cowered behind you, her lips tugging into a pout as she poked both her pointer fingers together with a frown. You had an obligation as a big sister to at least try to defend her before feeding her to the wolves, “Maybe you should give that energy to your boyfriend...Wasn’t he the one supposed to stay loyal?” You raised your brows as you spoke. 

You shrieked as you ducked down, a beer bottle flying above you as the girl raged on. 

“That’s Kokona, resident miss possessive.” Hiroko leaned back in her seat as she sipped her drink, obviously this wasn’t too odd of a sight as she shrugged, “You might wanna run.” 

You brows raised at her words only to see Kokona gathering three other men around as Hiroko snorted, “She’s got a whole pack of guys willing to do her bidding.” 

“Y/n…!” Nanami whined, grabbing your arm as you watched the three men approach, you looked between Nanami and them as your lips parted in a half sincere apology. 

“...Sorry Nami that's what happens when you try to sleep with someone's boyfriend!” You shoved past her as you heard her yelling at you as she split off on the other side of the room. People did nothing to effort to try and move out of your way as you shoved between them, ducking down as weaved through the crowd in hopes of attempting to lose them, you really didn’t want this to become a reputation for you and your sister. 

Diving into a booth seat you felt the stares of two men as you offered an awkward smile, “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to not get killed…” You offered a quirked smile as you grabbed the long island tea off the table, tipping it towards them as they all bubbled out cheers as you took a long sip, your eyes carefully watching over the crowd as you spot the one guy that must’ve been sent after you. 

After all you weren’t the one that Kokona wanted to kill, it was a pretty common occurrence you had experienced except...at least the woman before wasn't psychotic enough to actually try to kill you. You supposed the Borderlands were different. Very different. 

“Hey you should totally hang with us! We got your back babe.” You looked up at the dorky grin of the man you had sat next to your lying figure, which you were trying to use the table as coverage, “No extra cost needed beside a good laugh!”

You offered a weak smile, “I’m Y/n!” You introduced, endeared at the oddly innocent smile on his face as you awkwardly shifted, “My sister tried to sleep with someone's boyfriend and I somehow got dragged into it.” 

“Kokona’s a mean one,” The guy across the table hiccuped as he lifted his glass, “I’d stay away from her if I were.” You lifted up onto your elbows as you glanced up at him, his eyes heavily dilated before you realized he had obviously been as high as a kite and drinking...No wonder they looked so out of it. 

Watching the three men rally back together you quickly pressed back against the seats as you closed your eyes, “Yeah, I can tell...Is she like this with everyone....?” You grabbed the glass once more for another sip, needing something to take the edge off of this whole day. If your sister wasn’t so horny you wouldn’t be in this position right now!

“Nah, mainly girls.” The one beside you waved a hand, “She’s pretty cool otherwise, a little ruthless though. She gloats about her speciality being hearts a lot so she thinks it makes her automatically superior since most of us are spades or clubs players.” 

Sitting up a little you tilted your head in confusion, holding the drink you now claimed as yours as you drank it once more, “Specialty? Are venues specified towards…? What? A certain type of suit?” 

“No! No! Nothing like that, specialty just means what you naturally have a knack for! All games are still random at each venue,” The guy beside you sloshed his drink, obviously semi drunk himself as he explained, “That's why Hatter sends a team of four or three where each person has a specialty in each suit- except there isn’t a lot of hearts player, because we haven’t really encountered any…” 

Jiggling your drink you looked down at the ice that was slowly melting as you hummed, “Okay that makes sense.” You nodded remembering Hatter mentioning this was well, it would only be natural that the longer you survived you’d have a preference for a suit. 

“Hey aren’t you new?” The guy across the table pointed a sluggish finger at you, “Shouldn’t you be a little more...freaked out…?” 

You offered a weak smile as you glanced away, “Oftentimes in traumatic situations hysteria doesn’t always hit first, it’s likely that my psyche is still in shock and hasn’t fully processed what I’ve seen the past day…” The guy across the table squinted his eyes as he nodded with his lips parted as if in awe at your words, “It’s a mental thing,” You waved at your head, “To try and keep the psychological state of my mind in one piece.” 

You wouldn’t deny, there was a certain part of you that felt numb to everything and a smaller part of yourself wondered how you could intake all this information without going hysterical. But...the way you saw it was if this was your reality now, there was nothing you could do to change it. It was better you just got as much information as you could and try your best to adapt if you were going to live on. 

Glancing out over the crowd you noticed the men had disappeared once again as you offered both the guys a smile, “Thanks for letting me stay! But I’d better get going.” You gave a small nod, getting up as you held the glass, looking down at it as you frowned...You really hoped this wasn’t laced with anything or else it was going to be a very long night. 

Pushing through the crowd you couldn’t find Nanami anywhere but you did spot the girl you had sent three guys after you both like a fucking dog. Squeezing the glass you took a long drink as you approached her, “Kokona,” You called out with a smile as you waved, her eyes sharp as she immediately glared you down, “Listen…” You approached her with an easy smile, “I’m not here to make enemies, my sister is young and she probably didn’t realize it was your boyfriend…But like I said, you don’t really want a guy like that around…”

“Listen here you walmart knock off barbie,” Kokona pointed a sharp nail at you making your lips part a little in surprise at just how aggressive she was, “I don’t give a fuck. I don’t have the time or patience, here of all places. I’m sure you understand right?” She offered a gritty smile, “So tell that bitchy little sister of yours to stay out of my sight if she doesn’t want her hair ripped out.” 

Pressing your tongue to your cheek you looked away for a second before down at your drink...Well, she asked for it. 

You without a second thought held the drink up before splashing it all over her, “Say what you want about me I don’t give a fuck,” You stepped closer to her as you offered a gritty smile of your own, “But don’t ever say anything about my sister. I’m sure I’ll see you later.” You waved a hand as you turned around, walking back to the table where Akari, Ryu and Hiroko looked like they were all preparing to duck for cover at the show Kokona had put on for them unknowingly.

Setting the glass down at the table you collapsed in your chair as you whined, “Why are women so unfriendly here!?” 

Hiroko snorted as she shrugged, obviously not bugged like you were about it, “In this world it’s either kill or be killed, a lot of people don’t have time for niceties anymore. You’ll get used to it. Besides, Kokona is just a bitch to everyone. Don’t take it so personal.” She shrugged, “While you and Nanami were getting chased down we were talking…” 

You frowned as you looked up at all three of them as Akari smacked the table, “We should all go out for a game tonight! I know! I know, counterproductive especially with our visa’s stocked for the next few days but I think it’d be fun!” 

“Fun!?” The three of them paused as you sat up in your seat, looking at them all like they were insane because they obviously had to be, “Fun!?” You repeated again with even more emphasis, “Guys…! You- you could die!” 

“We could die just trying to breath here,” Hiroko scoffed as she shrugged, nonpulsed at your reaction as she picked her nails, ‘Besides you don’t have to go, I get it. We were all like this when we were new too. But I figured we’d make a good team logically. My speciality is diamond, Ryu’s is clubs and we just found out Akari is spades. And we have you, our wild card to figure out what you’re good at. It’s unlikely we’d die. By statistics at least.” 

You rubbed your neck, feeling a little more at ease with Hiroko’s rationality as you mumbled, “Well what about Nanami…?” Your eyes washed over the crowd, finally spotting your sister against the wall sipping something trying to act like there weren't three guys after her. 

“I doubt you’d want her to go?” Hiroko raised her brows, “Besides she still has three days left on her visa, she’ll be fine. Again, I’m not gonna pressure you into going, if all you’re gonna do is panic you probably will get lynched.” 

Her words made you puff your chest a little as you looked back to Nanami before back to the table, well...if they all had a strong suit then why not? “Alright, I’m in!” Who knows when you’d get the opportunity again to get more days on your visa in a considerably safe group. 

“I get it you’re like a walking model but seriously?” Hiroko leaned against the bathroom wall as she sighed picking at her nails, “You weren’t even in a full bikini.” 

“This has nothing to do with vanity and everything to do with comfort!” You called back, pulling up the loose sweatpants, “I’m not going to possibly go into a game that makes me run while wearing swimwear, I don’t hate myself that much!” You pulled the loose t-shirt over your head before pulling out the maroon jacket as you walked out, stuffing your swim attire in the bag. You had been at the venue for the past five minutes now, having not crossed the threshold but you still have time before it closed. 

“How many people have showed up?” You asked as you stood next to Hiroko who dropped her hand as she looked at you rolling her eyes as she sighed, standing up as you both walked to where Akari and Ryu were discussing the possibilities of what the game would be tonight. 

“Eh, like four? Maybe? I think that guy you know is in there.” Hiroko shrugged casually, “Looks like a good setup for a spades game, they typically have a bigger group number.” 

“What?” Your brows furrowed, what guy? Your mind drew a blank briefly as Ryu stretched out with a nod.

“Well if we’re all ready to go then let's head inside it’s almost six.” Ryu nodded once more as everyone followed behind him, you tossed your bag against the wall, it’s not like you had to be worried about anyone stealing in this climate. Your heartbeat picked up as you crossed the threshold. 

Noticing indeed four other people here before your lips parted and your face screwed into irritation, “Really!?” You muttered under your breath, immediately turning away from the familiar white hood as you stubbornly crossed your arms, “Hiroko why didn’t you say it was him!?” You hissed a whisper to her. 

Hiroko looked between you and Chishiya who was on his phone, earbuds in and ignoring the outside world before she tried to hold a laugh, “Did you two fuck or something?” You immediately flailed at her words making both her and Akari start laughing at both your misery and anger as you glared at her in unappreciation. 

“You think i’d fuck someone like him!?” You hissed out, “No, he's a total jerk! I…! Why can’t I go anywhere without him showing up!” You groaned as you crossed your arms, “Whatever, maybe he’ll get his guts ripped out tonight.” 

“Ouch, that’s a little harsh.” Ryu frowned, innocent as ever as he held his hands together, before offering a cute smile, “I’m sure he’ll come around, we’re all a part of the beach after all.” You sourly crossed your arms as you looked at the clock, striking six just in time for you to get tonight started with whatever death trap awaited.” 

Somehow, you doubt Chishiya held any loyalty to any of you at all just because you all slept in the same hotel…

The TV on the wall lit up as everyone's attention turned to it, obviously nobody was new here tonight as no one spoke to each other.

Game

Difficulty: 3♡ 

“A heart's game?” Ryu mumbled, his brows furrowed as he looked between you all as you gave a little shrug, your face twisted in concern as you wrapped your arms around yourself, “Well at least it’s a low difficulty! I’m sure it won’t be too hard to solve!” 

“The game you will be participating in is Blind Man's Bluff. Everyone will be required to wear a blindfold for one minute where the tagger will pass their tag off,” The screen depicted a faceless man passing quite literally a name tag off to one sitting down “Tags pertain to who is a player and who is the tagger. You will have twenty minutes to complete the game. It’s a Game ‘Clear’ if the tagger is discovered before the end of the last round, it’s a Game Over for the players if the tagger remains undiscovered.” 

Rules:

After each tagging sequence players will remain seated to take off their blindfold and find out if they have been selected as the tagger.

Blindfolds must be worn and kept on for the whole minute during the tagging sequence or it’s a Game Over.

Violence against other players is strictly prohibited and will result in a Game Over.

Players must remain seated for the whole time period of the tagging sequence or it’s a Game Over.

Game Clear conditions: If the players find out who the tagger is before the time runs out or it’s a Game Over for all players.

Tension had risen in the air a little as you felt your throat become dry, everyone immediately looked at each other somewhat suspiciously as the doors opened to the school gym, it was dark and empty outside of eleven chairs lined in a circle, all backs facing each other. 

“It could be worse.” Hiroko whispered to you as everyone grabbed a blindfold off the table that stood off in the distance, “As long as we just keep passing the tagger off to someone else we should be fine.” 

“Unless one of us gets picked by the end?” You quirked a brow as you rubbed the back of your neck, chances of that happening was one in ten but still, “I don’t like those odds Hiroko.” 

Hiroko only snorted as you both walked up, grabbing a blindfold as your eyes darted to the tags that laid out. Your brows furrowed at the stuffed bear with a blindfold on, his name tag ‘Rikku’ that took up his whole stomach, grabbing a tag as you turned back to face Hiroko.

“All we have to do is get a confession out of the tagger, it can’t be that hard.” Hiroko shrugged as she grabbed her blindfold as you puffed a breath of air, you hadn’t known her for long and despite knowing she was a lawyer before all of this...it was just still hard to imagine unless she was pressuring. Not exactly your method of going about stuff like this. 

Walking to a chair towards the left side of the room you sat down, crossing your legs as you looked up at the two clocks, one at twenty minutes that began ticking away and another holding at one minute. 

Looking towards your left your gaze immediately snapped back forward as your lips curled a little at the insufferable sight of blonde hair who made no effort to try and speak to you. 

Was he just sitting here purposely to annoy you? Because if you got tagger you would most definitely put it on him next. 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

Putting on your blindfold you tied it in a loose knot as you relaxed back into your chair, not being the tagger was perhaps the boring part of this game, the whole minute passed by and you briefly felt something press against your blindfold before it left. 

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now.” Taking off your blindfold you flipped it over only to find the tag player stuck on it, attached magnetically as you pulled it off, proceeding to wait the ten seconds before the scoreboard went off and everyone stood up. 

“Maybe we should start easy and just show who has a name tag?” Ryu coughed a little as he scuffed his shoe against the ground, rubbing his neck as he frowned, everyone, as if it was possible, became all the more tense. 

You looked around at all the blindfolds that were being held, “I don’t think that will work, we've most likely all been provided a nametag, the only odd man out is the one with tagger. But they’ve most likely hidden it. All we can do is just take a guess of who it could be.” 

Nobody spoke for a moment making Hiroko heave a sigh as she cracked her neck, “Alright I’ll do it, I’m used to this in court. What about you!” She suddenly pointed to a shorter girl who had been fiddling with her skirt, suddenly jumping at the accusation. 

“What!? I’m- I’m not the tagger!” She squeaked out, nervousness suddenly on her expression and many of the wolves of the group were definitely preying on her right now as Hiroko puffed a breath crossing her arms. 

“Then why do you look so nervous?” She raised an accusing brow, making you shift in your spot, crossing your arms, you couldn’t agree with Hiroko’s approach to this that was just stoking fire to an already stressful atmosphere where everyone was quickly beginning to pin the blame on each other. 

You could only stand there and watch as everyone began to argue as you pinched the bridge of your nose, “We’re never gonna get anything solved if we go about it like this.” You muttered to yourself as you sighed.

“If you’re that confident in doing better then you should assert yourself more.” 

You turned to Chishiya who was also standing not quite close enough for you to say he was next to you, but close enough. Your eyes squinted into a glare as you spoke, “Right and how do I know you’re not the tagger?” 

“Because I would’ve tagged you next if I was.” Chishiya shrugged casually making you clench your fists as you let out a noise of irritation, you hated that…! Annoying smirk of his! Despite not knowing him for long you could get the idea he obviously got off on annoying you and it only fueled your irritation that much more. 

“The feelings are mutual, stranger.” You hissed as you crossed your arms, “And I’ll have you know I am not going to insert myself into...that!” You waved your hand at the sight of two of the men now shouting at each other, the taller one immediately grabbing the other by the shirt, “Because at that point you’ll just be accused with any sort of logic.” 

You puffed a breath as you wrapped your jacket around yourself, “And besides, this chaos is a great scapegoat for the real tagger to just sit back and watch everyone pick each other off-” You paused as you turned to Chishiya as you silently berated yourself, why were you even rambling to this guy!? He was a total jerk and you were not about to let go of this morning where you were only trying to help, “Why are you even talking to me? Didn’t you want us to...what? Stay strangers?” 

“I’m...not talking to you?” He raised his brows, his lips quirking into an infuriating half smile as if he had a point making your lips pucker together and your jaw clench in effort to try and keep your obvious anger to a minimum, “It’s not my fault you won’t shut up.” He had the audacity to shrug. 

You couldn’t help but stomp your foot as you glared at him, “You know what!? I get the feeling if you didn’t care you would’ve gone and sulked in the corner the whole game. In fact, I bet you like listening to me ramble. After all the whole day and a half I’ve known you that's all you do other than instigate unnecessary fights!” 

Chishiya’s gaze narrowed a little and you watched his body coil a little away from you at your words, “In what world would you think I care to listen to you?” His lips twitched into cruel smirk as he spoke, “Besides your irrational anger and blabbering, you don’t have an ounce of sense or logic in your body. You're probably best suited for hearts because all you do is spill emotion.” 

“That is not what hearts are about!” You retaliated as you threw your hands even more frustrated, “Why are you so defensive the moment I say anything in relation to you possibly not being some emotionless humanoid!? I get it,” You flailed your arms as you spoke louder, “I was a total dick for comparing you to a sociopath! Okay? I can admit that, and usually I can understand where people are coming from but- but you!? I genuinely don’t get you! At all! One moment you wanna pretend like everything's cool between us and then the next you wanna act like a total asshole! And that’s not cool!” 

Chishiya had looked away from you heaving a loud sigh making you stomp your foot again, here you were exerting all of your emotion into him and he really…! 

Your fists curling only to realize just how silent it was...you turned to look at the crowd of people who all had stopped fighting and...Oh...you felt your face become hot as you wrapped your arms around yourself in embarrassment...Were you really that loud…

“If you and your boyfriend are done arguing we have more important things to solve!” A man pointed a finger at you with a hiss making you curl away, your ears burning at his words as you snapped back, “He is not my boyfriend! Besides you aren’t getting anything done just yelling at each other,” You turned away from Chishiya now unable to even look him in the eyes at the moment, “The real question is who has been silent up until now? The tagger would obviously sit back and watch because why would they insert themselves when you’re doing a great job at killing time.” 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

Clenching your jaw you sat in your chair as everyone proceeded to do the same, it was now silent as you put on your blindfold, now angry and not even at the game. You wasted your whole time, not even arguing with Chishiya which somehow made you feel even more angry. 

It was like talking to a wall.

Crossing your legs you curled up against yourself, mad just...Why were you even mad? You shouldn’t be letting someone like this get under your skin. You briefly wondered why it bothered you so much. Come to think of it, you supposed it was for the exact reason you said. 

Chishiya, puzzled you to no end and you had never experienced that with someone, ever. You couldn’t figure out what he was thinking nor find an understanding as to why he was so back and forth with you. Maybe it was your misinterpretation? But...You shook your head a little despite your gaze darkened from the blindfold, it wasn’t that. 

It was obvious, for whatever reason, he was holding himself back, From what? You didn’t know, but for now…

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now.” 

Pulling off your blindfold you looked at it, the same tag remaining of Player on it. You needed to focus on finding out who the tagger was, really this was like a game of hot potato, chances of the tagger getting killed was just as high as all the players dying, and who would want to take that chance? 

Maybe some, you stood up after the scoreboard went off and the original clock resumed as you turned around facing everyone to judge their reactions, Hiroko and Ryu were the same and so was Akari to your knowledge. Your eyes briefly flickered to Chishiya who had remained seated, his hands in his pockets, he also...You doubted yourself briefly, you couldn’t rule him out. 

“Who here wasn’t talking last round?” You asked, looking around at everyone, who obviously everyone immediately began speaking much to your frustration, you couldn’t expect someone to answer honestly which only meant...Puffing a breath, “Alright, how about this, let’s all trace a conversation with one person we talked too last round.” 

...You’d just have to manipulate the tagger into confessing

First you’d need to trace who was absolutely not the tagger and narrow it from there, “I’ll go first as an example since everyone seemed to hear last round,” You looked away briefly, a somewhat awkward smile on your lips, “I was talking to Chishiya about why he’s such an asshole. You don’t need his confirmation given everyone saw it, but typically you’d need someone to vouch for you in order to confirm you were talking. Now to those that didn’t talk, it doesn’t make them guilty, just more suspect.” 

“Me and Ryu were talking to each other about who the possible tagger was.” Hiroko spoke up, pulling a hand around Ryu’s waist who looked a little flush as he nodded, semi shy as you nodded yourself. That answer wasn’t too surprising. 

“Well I was talkin’ to this fine gentleman here about how I wasn’t the tagger.” Akari waved a hand to the guy beside her, who still leered but nodded in confirmation which cleared the both of them. You had hoped...this would keep civil, but as everyone went around, there was bound to be some who just genuinely didn’t remember because they were arguing with everyone, and those who were lying…

Which meant by this deduction things were narrowed down, for most people the chance of being found out you were the tagger is too stressful to be worth possibly being the only one to live in the end, thus handing it off, which meant there was...what? One in third chance each round the tagger was someone new? There were a few people you had to suspect that could have held the tagger without giving it up. 

The guy towards the middle who was very strangely calm during all of this with very empty looking eyes, and then there was the other man more towards you left who had been calmly de-escalating the situation but you didn’t miss the undertones of manipulation. It was one in third chance they could be holding it. Which meant you’d need to make sure they weren’t.

Walking over you stood more near Hiroko and Ryu as you watched two guys begin arguing again, “Every time I think we’ve made progress, it always ends up getting disturbed.” 

“Well that is the way of the world.” You kept a straight expression at the man who offered a smile that looked so unnatural to his empty eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a bit creeped out at how...insanely calm he was. You could get a sense of tension from at least Chishiya, granted it was most likely from you. 

“I’m Y/n,” You introduced, “Sense we should all be working together I figured it’d be best we at least learn each other's names.” You offered a sweet smile as you wrapped your jacket around yourself in effort to try and look unsuspecting. 

“I see how much anger you have inside you know? It’s quite obvious, from the way you lash out at others when you don’t get the response you want to the way you feel entitled to everyone's feelings, that’s not good for your health you know?” Your lips parted a little at his words, not even offended because...while he was right in some ways...he was very wrong in others, “But I understand your nature is tedious and complex, for all we not the same way?” Okay...this guy was definitely a psychopath, “I’m Sunato Banda, pleased to meet you.” He offered another smile. 

Empty eyes, disturbingly calm demeanor, even with your lives on the line he wasn’t disturbed at all, it wasn’t that he didn’t care. He just wasn’t affected, at all, like this could be a walk in the park for him. 

Psychopath, definitely. 

You’d need to be careful if tagger got in his possession otherwise he’d lie straight through his teeth and he’d never blink twice about it and you and everyone else would be unsuspecting about it.

“Well, us humans are very complex,” You nodded offering yet another smile making effort to look almost starstruck at his very poor deduction skills, again, somewhat correct, otherwise wrong. Afterall, how could someone who feels no remorse, truly understand the complexity of human nature? “Do you by any chance know who the tagger would be?” 

You’d need to make yourself look weak, pliable, if you were to get any use out of this guy, all he knew was how to do was take advantage of people, obviously, Banda offered a sly smile as he looked out over the room, his eyes washing over everyone, “Him,” He pointed a finger, “He keeps adjusting his coat as if he has something placed in there that’s uncomfortable.” 

You followed his line of sight to what looked like a business man in a suit and bowler hat, he did in fact, look quite nervous, “And why not call him out?” You asked, tilting your head exaggerated as you brimmed with curiosity. 

Banda turned to face you, a bright smile on his face as he closed his eyes, “Well I personally hope he’ll tag me next, I quite enjoy seeing a large build up in bodies.” 

..Oh...oh wow…

You gave a small nod, forcing a smile as you held yourself before excusing yourself from him, well, at least it definitely wasn’t him for now. Otherwise you’d be in trouble right now. And now you had a prime suspect. Some could overthink that and argue that perhaps he was lying just to get you off his trail. But personally? There was no way it’d be him, he wouldn’t do something like that. You got the feeling Banda, was a simple man. 

You turned to find the two guys from before who were tussling suddenly growl, one throwing a punch and before he could even fully hit the guy a deep red laser broke through the ceiling, you were frozen for a half a second at the sight of it shooting through the top of his head. Everyone was quiet as they looked down at the sight of a now dead body. 

Right...that was a rule, violence was prohibited. 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

You scurried back to your seat, sitting down as you pulled up your blindfold, “It’s that guy wearing the dumb bowler hat.” Your head looked towards you left despite not being able to see, Chishiya’s voice was quiet as he spoke, “While you were busy wasting time, I watched the real tagger- that school girl place it in his back pocket.” 

“The tagger can do that during the round?” You whispered back perplexed at the idea, how could you have missed that? Unless...she placed it right as you approached Banda? Thus him seeing the man realize he had been tagged and now nervously adjusting himself?

“There aren't any rules stating otherwise, makes it fair game.” Chishiya replied, he immediately quieted at the sound of footsteps tapping on the floor, they were definitely on your side of the ring. Your breath hitched a little at feeling something press against your forehead. Oh shit before the sound of footsteps walked away. 

“We just need to watch for him next round.” Chishiya spoke once more as you leaned back in your seat, trying to find a reason for why you just felt what you did. 

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now. Final round will be next round” 

You hurriedly took yours off as you flipped it over looking down at it, 

Tagger

Motherfucker. 

You quickly grabbed it off, at first trying to push it into your pocket only to realize they were fake. God you hated women’s clothing, your eyes shot to the clock that only had five seconds left, with nowhere to put it you shoved it down your bra as you collected yourself. Okay you...you could make this work. 

But now you were presented with a plethora of options. You honestly didn’t think it would be passed off to you. But now...you...you could keep it...You stood up as the scoreboard went off, but...Everyone else would die. Or...you could confess and you’d die. These options were not great. Next round was the last round, so if you gave it up...you’d be reassuring someone’s victory. 

You stood next to Chishiya as his eyes kept with the man from before with the bowler hat, “He might have gotten it passed back to him.” His eyes narrowed a little onto the guy. 

Do you find a way to discreetly tell him? Or would that also count as a confession…? It wouldn’t be a confession if you made yourself suspect. But...you couldn’t honestly trust Chishiya, not after his unstable display of distrust in you. 

“He could be,” You replied, leaning in a little as you watched him, he appeared relieved once more, he was the one freaked out about this after all...you felt a brief wave of guilt inside you at what your mind had suddenly come up with. 

With Chishiya’s suspect still on the man, all you needed to do was plant it back on him and pressure a confession out of him next round. 

You were very much going to hell after this. 

“He was the one that started accusing last round too and made someone die,” You hummed as you stuffed your hands in your pocket, “That guy also thought it was him. He’s definitely good at reading people,” You thought back to the way he tried to read you, which was somewhat accurate, but people like you and him, you couldn’t always accurately read each other. Except you weren’t insane like him, “At this point we don’t have much to lose.” 

You could see the cogs turning in Chishiya’s head as he stared menacingly at the man who looked at him and jolted a little at such an intense stare, “If I were the tagger by this point,” You were treading on very thin ice at the moment, “I’d keep it just for myself, instead passing it off. He’s gone this far without anyone really pressuring him. It’d be the smartest move by now.” 

“Then we’ll settle on him.” Chishiya replied, his gaze cold as he glared down at the man who mindlessly fixed his tie, trying to look cool despite being intimidated, clearly. He had a weak mentality, if you couldn’t break him next round, Chishiya most definitely would. 

“The one minute for the tagging sequence getting ready to begin, blindfolds on.” 

You supposed he was good for something even when you couldn’t trust him. 

Sitting down in your chair you put your blindfold on and waited a second before taking it back off, standing back up as you carefully stepped as quietly as you could, pulling the Tagger out of your bra before you walked over to the man who had just tagged you before pressing it against his blindfold, you watched his lips quiver as he let out a quiet, “Please…!” 

Your expression went cold as you turned around, glancing at the clock before you walked away and sat back down in your chair, putting your blindfold back on as you waited for the announcer once more. 

“Blinds off. Ten second cool down starts now. Final round.” 

You took the blindfold off, looking down feeling content at the Player tag as you stood up along with Chishiya who’s eyes went between you and the man before he pushed his hands back into his pockets, “If you’re all done pointing fingers and wasting time,” His gaze became a little more cool as he spoke, “Then we should go ahead and show who the real tagger is.” 

Both you and Chishiya glanced at the man who was now looking insanely nervous, sweat dripping down his neck and if this wasn’t life or death, you would’ve felt a little bad...Some parts of you still did, but it was either all of you or just him. 

“He does look pretty nervous.” Hiroko narrowed her eyes on him and from this moment forward you knew it was game over for him, quite literally. With all three of you there was no way he’d survive, crossing your arms you lifted your chin a little, “Say, weren’t you the one who got really defensive when the finger got pointed at you last round?” 

“I’m…!” He flailed a little, wiping his brow with his hand as he suddenly pointed an accusing finger at you, “It’s her you want! She’s a manipulative bitch!” You pressed your hand against your chest in fake hurt as you raised your brows, “She’s the one pitting everyone against me when she’s really the tagger. She’s going to leave you all to die.” 

The majority of eyes fled to you as you shrugged, “Why would I do that when I could just give it to you?” You gave a wickedly sweet smile as you giggled a little, “And watch it all go down. I mean, you must be agreeing now?” You raised your brows as you goaded, “About being the tagger?” 

“I…!” He struggled with his words, now glaring at you as you raised your brows once more as you shook your head, “I…! Now you’re just doing this on purpose! Trying to get into everyone's head and make everyone die! Can’t- can’t you see what she’s doing!” He cried out as he backed away from everyone. 

“I dunno’ you seem pretty guilty to me.” Akari shrugged as she poked her tongue into her cheek, not looking the least bit remorseful for the guy as she leaned her weight onto one side. 

“I get it,” You shrugged as you laughed a little, “You’re probably that kinda guy who’s never really stood up for himself, you probably got bullied as a kid and let yourself get run over by people all the time, even now, and now in desperation you attempt to hold your own and yet...” You tilted your head with a frown as you mocked, “You still can’t do anything right. I guess that goes to show, that people like you just never have a spine. If you can’t assert yourself now with your life on the line, you might as well die now. Because let’s face it, people like you only end in two ways, either spineless pathetic existence or you become the abuser out of a sick need to regain what you lost as a kid.” 

Reverse psychology, worked in the most simplistic ways. 

That seemed to get him to snap, you watched his eyes dilate and pure unfurled rage cross his expression as he shrieked, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You know nothing about my life! You know nothing about me! And because I’m the tagger I’ll get to watch all you pathetic people die! Who’s in control now!?” 

It’s a shame he couldn’t take control of his life in any other circumstance. 

Everyone paused and even he himself paused at the realization, his eyes welled with tears that made something deep in your heart lurch, your eyes squinting a little as your expression wilted a little as the red laser broke through the roof shooting him straight through the top of his head. His body crumpling to the ground. 

‘Game Cleared’

Everyone was still for a moment before you looked down at the blindfold and then to your hands, the memory hazy yet the memory of red staining them still so clear as you felt ringing in your ears and your vision blur for a moment as you let the fabric slip through your fingers. Running a hand through your hair you wrapped your arms around your jacket as you walked past the body, briefly looking at the once timid man who obviously let others run his life.

“Sorry.” You whispered quietly as you stepped over the corpse, “Come on, let’s go. I don’t wanna stay around here.” You looked towards the other three who nodded, also looking semi apprehensive as well. 

Now that the moment was over, the cruel reality was back to remind you that you just gaslit someone into admitting their own suicide. It was hard to not feel innately disgusted with yourself despite your reasoning that you and all of your friends would’ve died if you had. Still, what you did was okay. You were supposed to help people like him, not encourage them to snap. 

If you didn’t feel conflicted before you certainly felt conflicted now, looking at the register you ignored the visa print as you grabbed the playing card off the table. 

And as if mocking, this was only a three of hearts. You couldn’t imagine what higher level games looked like with this. You’d definitely need to be careful in the future, “Y/n! Come on, let’s go!” You looked behind at Hiroko nodding towards the exit. 

“You guys go on, I’ll catch up later.” You looked down at the card again, Hiroko frowned at your figure, wanting to say something but she understood, the first few days of the Borderlands were never easy. With that, she left. Besides you needed to get changed before you headed for the beach again. 

Walking out of the exit you grabbed your bag that was, just as you anticipated, still against the wall, leaning down you opened it up as you began digging through to try and find your bathing suit top. Stuffing the card inside you furrowed your brows, why did the electricity have to go out so soon? 

“You could’ve kept the tagger and won but you didn’t. Why?” 

You paused your search at the sound of Chishiya’s voice, sounding like he was- not interrogating you but definitely investigating. You resumed once more as you shrugged, “I could’ve.” You agreed, and it did cross your mind after all, “I thought about it,” You admitted right after as you pulled out the swimsuit top, “But maybe to some degree you were right,” You stood up as you turned to face him, “I am spilling emotion constantly. And if there was a chance I could’ve saved all of us in turn for one? It didn’t seem like that big of a reach to do really…” You looked away from him as you grabbed your neck, feeling a bit sheepish, “It was by chance you had spotted him before and it was by luck that I was given tagger for the last round. I knew all you needed was just mutual confirmation in your assessment before initiating the end.” 

You sighed as you looked down at the elastic material in your hand as you frowned, “For what it’s worth, I would’ve probably done it to him regardless of whether he had been the tagger or not. It doesn’t take much to break the weakest link. That’s probably the saddest part to be honest.” 

You grabbed your backpack off the ground as you looked up at Chishiya before back towards the entrance where others slowly began to filter out, “I doubt he even realized the trap I set him up for,” You smiled wryly as you shook your head, “People are so easy to mislead, I forget sometimes, the power that can hold.” 

You turned around, intending to go change, “What were you before all of this?” You looked back at Chishiya, his gaze cool as ever and his eyes scanning over you as if in search for an answer that didn’t exist. Briefly your heart jumped in nervousness, did you dare tell the truth? 

Laughing you let out a sigh what was the use in hiding in this world? There were no laws and honestly, who could judge you? “I was a prostitute.” You looked away, feeling somewhat bashful as you awkwardly rubbed your neck, you could tell that was not what Chishiya had been expecting you to say.

 “Oh…!” Your lips parted suddenly feeling even more stupid at the realization that was not what he meant by his question, “You...You probably meant what I’m majoring in...sorry. Uh-” You gave him an apologetic smile that was more out of your sake of humiliation as assuming. Clearing your throat you turned back over your shoulder as you gave him one last look, holding up the three of hearts as you answered, “I’m a major in psychology ♡ ” 

#alice in borderland #aib imagine #chishiya x reader #chishiya x reader smut #chishiya shuntaro #aib x reader

[aster-aspera]

One place to fall

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: Can’t go home

Relationship: Jon/Martin/Tim/Sasha

Warnings: food, Jon just generally being a bit sad? Idk, if there’s something you want tagged, feel free to tell me

Masterlist

If you liked it, please reblog

Jon woke up that morning with a strangled gasp, the afterimage of his dreams still burned into the back of his eyelids, keeping him from falling back to sleep. He rolled over, expecting to find the comforting warmth of one of his partners to keep him company in the lonely hours of an early day. Instead, what greeted him was the cold grey wall of Georgie’s guest room. It didn’t take long after that for the memories to flow back.

Three days. He really should stop expecting them to be here at this point.

They’re not here, they can’t be here, and he can’t go home, not for a long while, not till the police stop suspecting him for a murder he didn’t commit.

He sighed, rolling over onto his back when aches started running up his side. He stared up at the off-white popcorn ceiling, trying not to think of how Tim was probably sprawled out over Martin and Sasha, stealing most of the blankets and driving his sharp elbows into their sides. He tried not to miss Sasha’s warmth against his side and the sound of Martin’s soft snores. He always used to complain about their sleeping arrangements, but now he would do anything to be back in that bed.

He groaned and rolled over a few more times, trying in vain to find a position that was comfortable enough to attempt sleep again, not that that would go very well, with the nightmares plaguing him as soon as he closed his eyes.

Eventually, he conceded and got out of bed, grabbing his cane from the wall and taking a moment to work the stiffness out of his limbs. He limped into the kitchen and smiled at the Admiral when he raised his head sleepily. He wondered if he could convince the others to get a cat when he got home. If he ever got home.

The smile slipped off his face and he turned to open the curtains, letting in the greyish light of an early dawn. The Admiral mewled plaintively at his feet, pushing against him. He bent down carefully to run his fingers along the cat’s back, closing his eyes for a moment and just letting the feeling ground him.

He straightened and made his way over to the cramped kitchen, intent on making himself a small breakfast to keep him company whilst he waited for the world to wake up. He reached towards the cabinet over the sink, and for a moment expected their mismatched collection of mugs with ridiculous quotes and terrible puns. He shouldn’t have felt the disappointment he did when instead it was just a shelf of plain white cups.

He shut the cabinet door a little more forcefully than strictly necessary, breathing deeply against the sudden swell of emotion in his throat.

In the scope of all that had happened to him, this should have been minor, this should have been fine. It was just Georgie, the person he had used to love, the person he still cared for. And his partners were really just a phone call away.

So why then, did it feel like he was breaking? Why did every little reminder this wasn’t his home tear something apart deep in his gut?

Home had always been his safety net, and now, he had nowhere to fall.

And now he just had to sit here, stare at the blank walls and hope the police would finally realise he hadn’t been the one to kill jurgen Leitner. Every day that hope felt a bit further away.

He opened the group chat he shared with the others. There were no new messages, of course not, none of them were awake yet. Six am was a bit early even for Tim. He scrolled back to their conversation from last night.

A picture of Tim grinning into the camera while a pot bubbles over behind him.

Sasha: Tim’s cooking tonight, send help

Martin: If the house burns down or he poisons us, I want you to know I love you

Jon: I’m sure it won’t come to that.

He scrolls back down to the bottom of the chat, a small smile on his face at the easy conversation of last night. It wasn’t the same as being there with them, but it was a small comfort.

The three dots that signalled someone was typing popped up on his screen and he noted with surprise Sasha was already online.

Sasha: Youre up early

Jon: I could say the same for you.

Sasha: Needed to pee

Jon: Yes, I suppose that makes sense.

Sasha: So what’s your excuse

Jon: My back hurts again.

Sasha: :(

Sasha: And is that the only reason?

Jon: No

Jon: I miss you.

Sasha: Darling

Jon: I’m alright, I just wish I could see you

Jon: In person that is.

Sasha: We could come over?

Jon: I don’t think that’s wise.

Sasha: Yeah, i guess

Sasha: We miss you too

A swarm of emotions bubbled up in Jon’s throat at the words, threatening to spill over in a mess of heartache and sorrow and fear. They press against the bounds of his throat, choking him, filling him with so many feelings he could not even begin to parse them out. He just wanted to go home.

He swallows it down, tucks the whole mess into a corner of his mind and puts down his phone. He doesn’t want to bother Sasha, or any of the others. He’s already put so much on them, dragged them into the fear and confusion that was the archives, he had no right to bother them with more.

And he knew he was just being dramatic, he was a grown man, he should be able to handle being away from home for a while. He just needed to get himself together, focus on the next step.

He picked up a stack of statements from the coffee table, slipping on his glasses and burying himself in the comforting rhythm of paper and pen. At least this was something he still controlled, still knew how to do.

Georgie appeared at some point, giving him a disapproving glance to find him working so early and coraling him into eating breakfast with her. She can’t stay long after that, and both Jon and the Admiral watch her leave with the same forlorn air.

Jon looked up from his work as a heavy knock resounded from the front door. His first thought was that it was Georgie, back from her errands early. But she would just have let herself in, and Jon knew for certain she had her key with her when she left.

And who did that leave? The police? Some avatar coming to settle a score? Gertrude's killer finally come to finish the job?

Every option was bad, and every option would not let a flimsy door stop them. He stood up, walked into the kitchen as calmly as he could with dread and paranoia hanging over him like a dark cloud and grabbed the largest knife he could find. The knock came again, and he could hear indistinct whispering from behind the door.

Multiple people then. That wasn’t good for his chances. He gripped the knife just a little bit tighter.

“Hey boss, open up,” came a familiar voice, one he used to hear rough and sleepy in the mornings and soft and loving in the evenings. His heart brightened in a momentary thrill at the thought of his partners, or at least, one of them, being on the other side of that door, so close to him again after all those days without them. And all he had to do was open up that door and pull them into his arms once more.

That thrill was almost immediately dampened again as he realized they should not be here. It was why he had left in the first place. They were too connected to him, too wrapped up in his messy web of conspiracy and paranoia. If the police saw them here, if Elias saw them here, they would be leading all of it right to Georgie’s doorstep.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” He told the door and tried not to think of the warm hands behind it.

“We’re not supposed to do a lot of things,” Came Sasha’s amused voice.

“Like date each other,” Tim filled in, “But here we are, so you going to let us in now?”

“No, the police could find out, and you might get Georgie in trouble and there’s just so many reasons this is a bad idea.”

“Jon please, we’re worried about you, Georgie said you weren’t doing well,” Martin said softly

Jon sat down on the couch heavily, knees protesting from standing up too long. He stared at the door.

“And standing out here is probably a lot more risky than being in the apartment, so best let us in.”

He sighed. You never could argue with Sasha’s logic. The others looked up victoriously when he finally unlocked the door.

“There he is!” Tim crowed, as Sasha and Martin offered him a warm smile while bustling into the apartment, both laden with grocery bags. Sasha pressed a light kiss to his forehead as she passed and he tried not to start crying at the feeling.

“You have to leave,” He said as he shut the door, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Martin and Sasha didn’t look up from where they were unloading piles of vegetables and snacks from their bags.

“What? No, hey guys, I missed you, happy to see you all?” Tim complained as he draped himself over Jon’s back. Jon scowled at him.

“Jon, stop being stubborn, we’ve all been through hell the past few weeks, and right now we just want to be here to keep you company,” Martin said in that firm yet gentle voice of his.

“You really shouldn’t be alone after all that,” Sasha said as she dumped out a tupperware container into a pot.

“I’m not alone,” Jon said grumpily, “I have the Admiral.” Though he had apparently decided to make himself scarce for the time being. Jon cursed him for the betrayal.

“Are you saying you prefer the company of a cat to ours?” Tim asked, pulling them both back onto the couch and settling a blanket over them.

“Maybe,” Jon pouted, burrowing into Tim’s chest despite the fact that he was still upset with them, “He doesn’t uselessly endanger everyone to come give me cuddles.”

“Well we’re here now, and we’re not leaving till you feel better.”

“And admit it, you’re happy we’re here,” Martin said, apparently finishing up with his preparations in the kitchen and curling up next to Jon on the couch.

Jon did not want to admit it, but something warm and content curled up in his stomach, the warm feeling of home returning to his bones. A warm and savoury smell drifted through the room, clearly coming from whatever Sasha was warming up on the stove.

This apartement did not look like home in the slightest, the walls and ceiling all wrong, the furniture hard and uncomfortable and unfamiliar. But with all of them here, and that familiar smell of soup and Tim’s conditioner surrounding him, it wasn’t all that bad.

Sasha sat down on his other side, handing everyone a bowl of soup and giving Jon a gentle kiss on his knuckles. Martin pressed one to his temple and Tim just ruffled his hair fondly.

A few words were exchanged between them, but Jon didn’t bother paying too much attention. He knew he should still be angry, or at least have a firm conversation with them on what they had agreed on. But not now, not when they were here and he was home and for a moment he could forget all about Leitner and the institute and just be safe.

#the magnus archives #tma #magnuspod #magpod #jonathan sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #sasha james #s1 polycule #polyarchives #polychives #jonmartimsasha #what tag do i use for these guys? #bad things happen bingo #my writing #fun fact #while writing this fic a zebra came up to me and we had a staring contest #thats what you get when writing a fic while on holiday in kenya #also most of this was written in a bumpy car and then edited at 6 am in an airport #so if it sucks thats my excuse

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 6

Haha, I’m so excited for this chapter. Please let me know what y’all think! Also a huge thank you to everyone who has liked/commented/reblogged. You guys deserve all the love and cookies possible! 

Warnings: swearing, fluff (i think that’s it, sorry if i miss something)

Words: 7300 (i feel like my chapters keep getting longer. oops?)

Tag List: @heavenly1927 @youbloodymadgenius @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls​

Series Masterlist

The aroma of coffee surrounded Kari like a warm, comforting blanket. The café was just the perfect amount of busy, there were a few other tables occupied but without feeling cramped or overwhelming. The lunch rush was just beginning, indicated by the number of patrons standing in line to order now. 

 The brunette sipped on her latte as she slowly swiped through the pictures on Gyda's phone. The two were finally meeting up for an early lunch and coffee after a yoga class. Gyda had been gushing about the trip she just returned from to Phnom Penh, telling stories of the week she spent there and letting Kari slide through the pictures on her phone. 

 "These are just gorgeous. Gods, you have the best job, I swear."

 Gyda laughed, picking at the muffin in front of her. "I know. I can't imagine doing anything else though."

 "When do you leave again?"

 "Mmmm…. I’m not sure yet. The company is wanting me to go to Vancouver, British Columbia next. I might wait until the end of September to go. I'm not sure. Either way, it won't be for at least a month. Depends on how soon I want to go visit mom."

 "Why wouldn't you want to go soon?" Kari perked up at the mention of Gyda's mother. She knew the two were close, but all she really knew about Lagertha was from what Ivar told her.

 "I'm not a fan of her new boyfriend. Sorry, she prefers the term "lover". Kalf works for her, specifically with contacts from their Mediterranean partners and overseeing some of the shipments."

 "Why don't you like him?" She swiped to the next image, a stunning picture of the Cambodian royal palace. 

 The blonde waved her hand vaguely, as if swatting a fly. "He hasn't done anything; I just don't like him."

 "That's fair. Does he treat your mom well?"

 "Yeah. She just has shit luck with men and I'm worried how this one will turn out." She sipped on her coffee, gazing out the nearby window for a moment. 

 Kari turned back to the phone, guessing there was more that Gyda was not saying. Not that she needed to know. No, she had enough drama in her life currently and his name was Ivar. 

 Both women lounged in the wooden café chairs, still in their yoga clothes, having come straight from the studio. Except Gyda changed her footwear, losing the sandals for a pair of wedge heels that made her long legs look like skyscrapers. It was hard not to envy Gyda's body, and Torvi for that matter. They both had the perfect hourglass figure, with all the right assets and gorgeously braided, blonde hair. Maybe it was some standard that women around the Lothbroks had perfect bodies. It made Kari wonder why Ivar paid her any attention then. Her body was far from perfect. Her chest side was decent, but she always thought her hips and thighs were too large. Most likely leftover critiques from her mother who not-so-lovingly would say Kari was pear-shaped and needed to focus on losing all that extra or no man would want her. Not that she was trying to get a man. Over the past two years she had finally come to embrace her body and was learning to be comfortable in her own skin. Though some days were better than others. It was still difficult to watch Gyda receive appreciative looks from many of the patrons as they passed by their table and know none of them would even give her a second glance. The blonde was effortlessly beautiful. Perhaps there was a way for her to teach Kari that. 

 Suddenly Gyda zeroed in on the brunette with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "Speaking about men…."

 "Are you going on a date?" 

 Gyda snorted, with an amused grin on her face. "Hell no. I'm not interested in a relationship right now. I am perfectly fine being single. Stop changing the subject. There is a little something going around the Lothbrok rumor mill that Ivar took you on a date to Casa mia, Maggiore."

 "Not a date, it was just as friends." Kari clarified. 

 She gave her an incredulous look. "Just friends?"

 "Yes."

 Gyda narrowed her eyes at her. 

 "What? We went out to Casa mia, Maggiore and then I convinced him to go to Masterpiece. After he dropped me back off at home. Nothing happened."

 "Right…." Gyda hummed. "So, it was a date."

 Kari dropped her face into her hands with a groan. "Not a date. Just friends."

 "Whatever you say. Just know Ivar doesn't take just anyone to his favorite restaurant. Hell, I think he only took his ex there once in the ten months they were dating. He usually only goes with Aslaug."

 "Oh? Um, I didn't know…" The brunette hated how she perked up at this new information. It should not matter hearing that he never took anyone, that it really was his favorite restaurant and he wanted to share it with her. In their texting, he made reference to when they went back, what food he wanted her to try next. Something apparently, he was not even inclined to do with an ex. No, none of that should matter. But it did, and the way her heart swelled at the realization only proved that to her. 

 "Clearly he really likes you to take you there. Do you like him?"

 "Sure, he's a good friend."

 Gyda sighed dramatically, tipping her head back. "You're killing me, Kari! Fine! When was this not-date? A week ago?"

 "Eight days, yeah."

 "Have you hung out since then?"

 "Yeah, he picked me up once and we went out for dinner. Another time, he took me out on my lunch break. He had to go on a business trip so I haven't seen him in…. three days?"

 "Right. I'm guessing he's blowing up your phone while he's been gone?"

 Kari took a sip of her drink as she mumbled, "sort of." The truth was they were practically texting non-stop. It was mostly discussions, and arguments on his side, of superficial things like TV shows, the proper time to wake up in the morning and her lack of clothing that was more than yoga attire. Other times they sent memes back and forth or links to funny YouTube clips. Kari never realized how lonely she was before Ivar thrust himself into her life with all the force and subtlety of a rocket. 

 "What does that mean?" Gyda eyed her for a long moment before she gasped and slapped the table. "Oh shit! Is he sending you dick pics?"

 Kari choked on air. After hacking for a couple of seconds, tears coming to her eyes because of the action, she vigorously shook her head. "No! No! Ewww....no! We keep sending stupid memes to each other and talking about where we should go out next. That's it. I promise."

 The blonde laughed loudly at Kari's reaction, who fiddled with her earring, face burning with embarrassment. The two sat quietly for a couple of minutes, sipping their drinks and watching the line of lunch patrons increase. 

 "So…. it kind of sounds like you're dating."

 "No, we're just friends. Why can't friends just hang out?" Kari tried to argue. The beginning tendrils of annoyance creeping in at constantly having to defend their friendship. 

 Gyda stared at her. "Have you made-out?"

 A blush colored Kari's cheeks before she could figure out a good enough lie, giving away the truth. 

 "What?! How often?!" Her enthusiastic friend cried, before waving her hand once again. "Never mind. Listen, he's taking you out to his favorite restaurant. He is clearly going out of his way to spend time with you. He is texting you! You don't realize how big of a deal this is for him! He generally hates people. I'm positive he has murder plans for most of those he is forced to be around. Does he know you're just friends? Because to me, it doesn't sound like it."

 Kari covered her face with her hands, tears of frustration springing to her eyes. Ivar and her could only be friends, that was what she promised herself. If he knew her, the real her…. it would never happen. He would never want her. So it was best to remain friends, to protect both of them from the inevitability that anything more would never happen. Even though their line of friendship was blurring…. and that was the worst part. She found herself wishing to continue to blur that line, even when she knew it would only end in disaster. Taking a deep breath, she could smell his cologne, a scent she had become so used to now. Her mind could easily conjure the feeling of being in his arms, his mouth on hers as she gave in under his touch. She cared for him, deep down she knew more than a friend. Although he could annoy her to no end, she enjoyed his presence, his humor, that vulnerable side that peeked out occasionally, how he made her feel safe and beautiful. 

 Now hearing Gyda pointedly telling her that Ivar was treating her as more than a friend. It left her speechless and wondering if she was making a mistake. 

 Gyda’s tone softened when she spoke next. "Why are you so set on just friends?"

 "I just…. I don't want to date right now. After my last relationship, I just want to focus on myself."

 "That's fair but listen, he isn't going to wait around for you forever."

 "I know. I don't want him too." She admitted, tugging on her earring. Though her statement was the truth, it still tasted bitter on her tongue. 

 "Ok, but does he know that? It sounds like he’s set on you, but I'm going to warn you. Don't break his heart. He isn't the type to recover from heartbreak. His heart is already locked up more securely than Fort Knox but if you break it…."

 "I promise, that isn't my intent. I just…. can't. I like him, more than I thought I would. He is funny and charming and sweet but also infuriating and demanding and I've had more fun with him than I've ever had with a guy friend before. He…. I can be myself around him and I think he can too. But I just…. It can't go further than friendship."

 Gyda mulled over her words. "Alright. I don't fully understand but I get it. It's nice to hear that he's connecting with someone. None of us liked his ex. He only really spends time with family or Floki."

 "I don't want to hurt him." Kari whispered. 

 "I know. You're too sweet to purposefully do something like that." The blonde tilted her head to the side with a slowly growing smug look. "I give it until the end of the year and you'll be naked in his bed."

 "Gods! What? Why would you say that?"

 "He's a Lothbrok. They always get what they want."

 *****

 Kari laid curled up on her full-size bed, her laptop up and watching Downton Abbey. A heating pad rested on her abdomen as she waited for the pain relievers to kick in. Most of her life she was happy with, but the one thing she would easily trade out would be the painful cramps when PMSing. The birth control she took helped out, but there was usually still one day that the dreaded cramps hit hard. 

 Her phone dinged. Languidly reaching over, she grabbed it from beside her pillow and opened it to check the text. 

 Ivar: wat r u doin?

 He texted her earlier that day saying he was returning home from his sudden business trip. 

 Kari: nothing

 Ivar: good. bts. 

 She groaned, slamming her face into her pillow. She did not have the energy to deal with him right now. All she wanted was to relax and eat her body weight in chocolate. After a moment of self-pity, she texted him back, hoping she could get out of whatever he had planned already. 

 Kari: no, I don't feel good.

 Ivar: wat wrong?

 Kari: nothing bad.  

 Sure, they had been talking daily for over a week but that did not mean she wanted to divulge her period issues to him. There were a few things she knew and one was that guys did not like talking about the menstrual cycle. 

 When he did not text back right away, she turned her attention back to her laptop and the TV show playing. Soon enough the magic of pain relievers and hot pads kicked in and her pain was minimal, though she had no intentions of leaving her warm cocoon. Alana was at her night class, so Kari was home alone. Not unusual really, but tonight she certainly felt the urge to lay around and do nothing. 

 After about twenty minutes, she heard a loud knock on her front door. Alana was not home, so it could not be any of her friends. Her neighbor, Erik, never just showed up. He always made sure to text before coming to her door. Maybe there was some kind of emergency? Or a package being dropped off? Though at this time it was certainly getting late for any kind of deliveries. Then it hit her. 

 Ivar. 

 "Ughhhh," she groaned, rolling out of her bed. For a split second she contemplated not answering it, just staying in her warm bed. She knew, though, if she did not get it, he would probably bust the door down. Maybe even set it on fire to make a point. He seemed like the type to light things on fire for fun. 

 As soon as she opened the front door, those intense blue eyes scanned over her body as if looking for some unseen disease. "What's wrong with you?" He barked at her, one hand still on the doorframe.

 "What?" She blinked owlishly. 

 "You said you don't feel good." He gestured towards her, his gaze still searching. "What's wrong?"

 "Um, it's nothing. Just cramps. It's better now."

 "You sure? It's nothing worse?"

 She was touched by his concern, the way his last questions were said in a breath of relief as if actually worried about her health. "Yeah, happens every month. I'm fine."

 "Ok, good. Get changed, Hvitty and I are going to see a movie. I want you to come with us."

 "Ivar, you should hang out with your brother…."

 "I fucking live with him. He's fine with it. Go change."

 She sighed, knowing by now there was no way she was making it back to her warm cocoon and Downton Abbey. Besides, she had missed him while he was gone and found herself wanting to spend time with him. Not that she wanted him to know that, it would only inflate his ego. "I'll only agree to come with you on two conditions."

 "Fucking what?" He growled, though she could see the amusement in his eyes. 

 "First, I'm wearing my comfy clothes." She waved her hand at the pair of soft, black leggings she wore and the thin, slouchy sweater with the word 'beautiful' printed on it. "Second, and this is the most important condition, you have to buy me a stupid amount of chocolate."

 He rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged on his lips. "If that's all, princess…."

 "Oh, give me a minute. I'll think of something else… and it's not princess. It's m'lady."

 "Shut up. Get your shit. I'll meet you at the car."

 She laughed as she raced up to her room to grab her purse, not even bothering to change out of her clothes. The only addition was to throw on a zip up jacket that was a size too big on her. She always found movie theaters too cold to be fully comfortable without a jacket. 

 The vehicle waiting for her this time was a luxury SUV. She stopped for a moment in the driveway, unsure what to do. She wondered what the neighbors would think of her getting picked up in this and how many knew Lothbroks were sitting in it. Hopefully no one was paying attention. The one of the back doors opened so she headed that way. Ivar slid over and she followed him into the vehicle, closing the door behind her. 

 "Took you fucking long enough, m'lady."

 She smirked at the nickname. "Well, you did just show up at my door and told me we were going to see a movie. At least the other times you gave me a heads up to be ready."

 "Ivar, you said you text her we were coming." A man she had not noticed said. He sat across on the bench seat facing them, watching her curiously. It was now Kari noticed how both Ivar and the guy were dressed casually, both in jeans and t-shirts, though Ivar had a light jacket on also. 

 "She said she wasn't doing anything." 

 The flaxen-haired man sighed, before reaching his hand out. "Hi, I'm Hvitserk. This idiot's older brother."

 "It's nice to meet you. I'm Kari." She took his hand, but instead of shaking it like she expected, he turned it over and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her hand. When he released it, he gave her a quick, flirty wink and leaned back in his seat. 

 Startled by his bold action, she looked at Ivar, unsure how to respond. What was with these Lothbroks and their unabashed flirting? 

 He had his eyes narrowed at his brother, teeth practically grinding. "Fucking touch her again." He snarled. 

 Hvitserk chuckled, a smug look on his boyish face. "Relax, brother. I know you don't share…. even if you're just friends." Either he was purposefully antagonizing his younger brother or did not notice the anger seething off of him. 

 Ivar started to lean forward but Kari wrapped her arms around his, pulling him into her. She was not about to watch a fight go down between the two. "Didn't you just get back from your trip? I thought you'd be home resting." She quickly asked, trying to distract. 

 After a long moment of the brothers staring at each other, Ivar with a glare and Hvitserk looking amused, the raven-haired brother leaned back. He turned his head to look at her as he answered. "You said you wanted to see me earlier, and going to see a movie isn't strenuous."

 "Everything involving you is strenuous."

 As soon as she muttered the words, she wished she could take them back. 

 A devilish grin spread across his face, those blue eyes dancing with something mischievous and forbidden. "I can show you strenuous." He shifted to hover over her, lips dangerously close to hers. "All. Night. Long." He whispered, one hand leaving a trail of fire as it slid from her thigh up to the curve of her breast. A shiver ran down her spine at the low, hungry tone and the naked want in his gaze. "You'll be begging for more of me…. to destroy that pussy and leave you completely undone and hoarse from screaming my name." His tongue flicked at her earlobe, a choked gasp leaving her mouth at the sensation. Her eyes fluttered shut on their own accord, the knot in her core tightening painfully. She both hated and loved what his touch did to her, how it gave her a taste of pleasure otherwise unknown. His nose traced her jawline as he spoke again, tone filthy, making her core ache. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, kattungen?"

 She gulped, her voice coming out far more timid and needy than she wanted. "That's...um, that's nice." 

 Hvitserk's laughter broke the smoldering tension. Her blue-green eyes blinked rapidly as if wakening from a dream, darting to stare at the older brother before returning to the one who still lingered over her, his presence alone keeping her pinned to her seat. 

 "En dag, søte Kari, blir du min." Ivar whispered into her ear, then kissed her temple tenderly. After he leaned back, legs splayed out and arms across the back of the seat. A rapid conversation in that foreign language started, Hvitserk saying something that had Ivar snarking back and rolling his eyes. 

 The whole time, Kari focused on slowing down her breathing and trying to tamper down the warmth radiating from her core. There was no denying it, Ivar did something to her on a primal level. Her body wanted him. Even her mind wanted him. When he directed that sensual, seductive side at her, she melted like an ice cube in June. Her panties were testimony to that. Thankfully, he did not turn that powerful ability onto her frequently. She doubted they would remain 'just friends' for long if he did. 

 Suddenly, Ivar tugged on the sleeve of her fleece jacket, drawing her from her thoughts. "What is that?"

 "Um… a jacket?"

 He hummed then glanced over at his brother. "Sigurd had the same one, doesn't he, Hvitty?"

 "I think so." Hvitserk ran a hand over his braids, a smile on his lips. "Didn't you set it on fire?"

 Ivar waved off the question, still scrutinizing her jacket.  "Whose is it?"

 "Mine now." She replied, wondering what he was getting at. 

 "Whose was it?"

 "A guy friend. He lent it to me years ago and I never gave it back."

 "He's in England?"

 "Yeah…"

 He grunted, rubbing a hand over his mouth for a moment. "Take it off."

 "Wha…. what?" She sputtered. 

 "Take it off. I don't want you wearing another guy's clothes."

 "Ivar, this is stupid. Plus, I always get cold in movie theaters. That's why I brought it in the first place."

 With a deep scowl, he tugged off his own gray, soft shell jacket. When he saw she was not moving, he tugged on her sleeve roughly. She huffed but gave in, not willing to fight him over something so childish. She slipped the fleece jacket off and placed it in her lap. Before she could stop him, Ivar snatched the jacket out of her lap and threw it on the seat to his other side. He dropped his jacket in her lap then leaned back, watching her with a serious expression. This was one of those times she wondered why she put up with him. Who cared where the origins of her clothes came from? It was comfy. Sure, it had some sentimental value but it was a nice, warm jacket. 

 Quickly, she slipped his gray jacket on…. and was immediately hit with his scent. A salacious side of her wondered if he would let her keep it. He always smelled incredible and having his jacket now wrapped around her, enveloping her in that…. her libido definitely woke up, begging for attention. Especially after the tease he just bestowed upon her.  

 "Happy?" She asked flippantly, smoothing the gray jacket down over her and trying not to be obvious with her sniffing it. 

 He grinned. "You look better in my clothes."

 "Ugh. Is he always like this?" She turned to Hvitserk.  

 "I wouldn't know. He's never asked me to take my clothes off. But if you did, I'd happily oblige." He playfully winked at her. 

 She groaned. "You both are unbelievable. No wonder you're brothers." She looked at Ivar beside her. "Can I have my jacket back?"

 He raised a single eyebrow as if surprised by her question. After a second of mutual staring, he slid over and opened the window, maintaining pointed eye contact the whole time. Before she could process what he was going to do, he balled up her jacket and threw it out the open window. Without a word, he rolled the window back up and slid over to her side again. 

 "What jacket?" He questioned impishly. 

 She stared open-mouthed at him. "Was…. was that really necessary? Gods! Why did you do that?" 

 "I don't want you wearing another guy's clothes." He shrugged. "If it's that big of a problem, I'll buy you some new clothes."

 "That's not…. that's not the point! You can't just get rid of something of mine without my permission!"

 "But it wasn't yours, it was some guy friend's."

 She covered my face with her hands. Why should she expect anything different from Ivar? He had a vendetta against her clothes. With a sigh, she scooted away from him. "I feel like we need to make a list of things that are not ok for you to do."

 "I'm not following some fucking list."

 "Alright, I'll stop wearing clothes that belong to someone else if you promise not to throw away my clothes without my permission."

 He yanked on her arm until she was at his side again, despite her half-hearted attempt for space. "You can wear my clothes anytime, especially if I can take them off of you."

 "Ivar, I'm serious."

 He nuzzled the crook of her neck, making her squirm. Sweetly, he pressed a kiss to her neck before leaning back. "Fine." He muttered, tucking her into his side. 

 She glanced over at Hvitserk, having momentarily forgotten his presence. A broad smile covered his face, highlighting his handsome features. 

 "I like her." He declared, meeting his brother's eye with a nod. Next he looked at her, cocking his head to the side. "What are you doing with his sorry ass?"

 That earned a low growl from the youngest Lothbrok, causing Kari to jump faintly and Hvitserk's smile to grow.

 "Well, I didn't have much of a choice. He showed up at my work the first time." She answered honestly, though she mostly did it to tease Ivar. 

 Hvitserk threw his head back with a groan before narrowing his eyes at his brother. "I told you not to stalk her!"

 "What the fuck is this? Gang up on Ivar day? She wouldn't have gone out with me otherwise and afterward she said she had fun, so it's not a big deal."

 Hvitserk's brown eyes met her blue-green ones with true sympathy in them. "I'm sorry, Kari. I would say he isn't normally like this but I'm guessing you know that's a damn lie by now."

 She giggled, "Yeah, I do. Thank you though."

 "You know, we could always ditch him and go to the movie just us."

 "Oh yeah?" She tapped her chin, pretending to think the offer over. "That sounds like fun. Ivar did promise to buy me a stupid amount of chocolate though. It'd be a hard sell to pass that offer up."

 "I'm sure I can come up with something." He wiggled his blond eyebrows, smiling again. 

 "Shut the fuck up, both of you." 

 Kari laughed at the look on Ivar's face. Peering up at him, she changed the subject. "What movie are we seeing?"

 "Ask your new friend over there."

 "Come on, Ivy. You know we're just fucking with you." Hvitserk sighed.  

 Ivar grumbled, looking out the window and ignoring both of them.

 Hvitserk answered her question. "That new horror movie."

 "Oh ok." She hoped she sounded confident but kind of wished she had known before coming. Horror movies were not her thing. As a child, she had watched 'IT' at a sleepover and decided then that purposefully being scared was something she could do without. Though knowing Ivar, he would have laughed and pushed her out the door, saying something about how she needed to watch better shit than she normally did. Maybe this one would be more action-based than real horror. She could only hope. 

 Thankfully, they pulled up at the movie theater soon after. The driver dropped the three off at the door, driving off after to go park and wait. 

 "Ivar, hold on." She tugged on his arm, forcing him to slow his steps instead of walking ahead of the other two. "Give us a minute, Hvitserk."

 The blond brother gave her a quick nod. "I'll go buy some snacks."

 After he walked away, she tried to meet Ivar's gaze, though he pointedly stared over her shoulder. "Hey, we're just teasing. I'm sorry if we pushed it too far. I'm really happy you asked me to come out with you and your brother. It's been years since I've gone out to the movies."

 He remained stubbornly sullen, continuing to stare just over her shoulder as if her presence was a nuisance. 

 With a sigh, she shifted closer, taking the initiative to wrap her arms loosely around his waist. Something she had noticed during the times they had hung out was he liked touching her, not always sexually, but just casual, intimate touches. A stray thought of him being touch-starved crossed her mind. 

 "I also really like your jacket, it's soft and it smells like you." She softly said, peeking up at him, suddenly nervous about her forwardness. 

 "Yeah?" He breathed out, placing his arms around her and tugging her closer. In just that movement, she could feel the hostility drain out of him, the hard tension in his muscles easing away into a softness she was beginning to doubt many people were allowed to see. 

 "Since you threw my other one away, can I keep this one?" She teased, lips curling up at the edges. If he said no, she was inclined to steal it anyway. For emotional damages, of course, not because it smelled good. 

 "Fuck, yes, kitten." He nuzzled her neck, making her squirm in his arms and giggle at the sensation. After a moment, still chuckling, he kissed her neck then laid his forehead against hers. When he spoke, it was with a quiet hint of vulnerability, his voice just above a murmur. "You really are happy to be out with me?"

 "I am." She confirmed with eyes closed, soaking in the heat from his body against hers. This moment felt so strangely intimate that she struggled between prolonging it or tearing herself away. It was in these touches, she found her resolve wavering, a longing rising within her to give in. His arms around her, just holding her, their foreheads pressed together as if grounding one another. It was euphoric and dangerous. 

 He broke the silence between them, tone muffled as if regretting speaking up. "We should go in; the movie is going to start soon."

 "Ok. Hvitserk will probably come looking for us if we don't." 

 "Ah, fuck. He will." 

 They untangled, but as she moved to step away, he snaked his arm around her waist, tugging her next to him. When she glanced up at him, he only looked down at her in wide-eyed, mock innocence. She rolled her eyes but giggled. He was like a puppy afraid to let go of his new toy. 

 As they started towards the doors, she finally paid more attention to his gait. Each step was stiff but powerful. One more than one occasion she ogled him and his swagger that seemed to scream predator, a dark and deadly thing meanwhile also being so enticing. She wondered how he managed so well without his cane but decided not to bring it up.

 Once they passed through the door, Ivar slowed down, pulling his phone from his pocket. 

 "Shit. I've got to take this. Go wait with Hvitty. Oh, here." He pulled out his wallet and handed her his credit card. "Go buy all that chocolate I promised you and drinks for us."

 Normally she would protest, saying she could buy her own stuff. This time she had full intentions of spending his money on chocolate. "Do you want anything to eat?" 

 "Are you on the menu?"

 "Gods, unbelievable!" She laughed though, watching him smile genuinely. After an arrogant wink, he stepped away, bringing his phone to his ear and speaking rapidly in a foreign language. She scurried over to Hvitserk, who stood near the confessions counter. 

 "Everything alright?" 

 "Yeah," she glanced over her shoulder at Ivar quickly, "he just got a phone call he said he had to take."

 Hvitserk hummed, watching Ivar across the lobby with a peculiar expression. 

 While they waited, she ordered her snacks and the drinks for both of them. Though her doubts rapidly spun out of control as she realized she did not know what Ivar would like or want. With a pleading look thrown at him, Hvitserk gave in with a chuckle. Together they picked out snacks and drinks that would have the youngest Lothbrok's approval. Once done, they gathered their stuff and moved over to an open, standing table to continue waiting. 

 "While Ivar is busy, I wanted to talk to you."

 "Ah, sure." She felt a tendril of dread grow in her belly. Nothing good ever came out of a conversation with such an inauspicious beginning. 

 "I know Ivar can be a lot, closer to fucking insane, and not many people can tolerate him." He looked down at her with brown eyes that seemed to see more than they let on. "But you're good for him. You don't take his bullshit. Fuck, he even listens to you. I could count on one hand how many people Ivar actually listens to. What makes you different?"

 "I don't know. I'm just…. I don't know." She stared down at her chipped, teal fingernails, unable to meet his eyes now. 

 "Well whatever you are, we've already noticed a difference since you two started talking. He's not as angry, he doesn't just hole up in his room as often."

 "That's good."

 "Mmmm…. Ivar is my brother and I love him. But I also know his temper can get the better of him and when he is on a rampage, nothing can fucking stop him. He is easily jealous and possessive of things he deems his own…. and he clearly had staked a claim on you."

 "But…. we're just friends."

 "Not to him." He huffed, running a hand over his braids. After checking to make sure his brother was still on the phone, he continued, lowering his voice even more. "You seem like a nice girl so I'll only say this once. Be careful of what promises you make to him…. and if he ever does something to harm you or scare you, I want you to call me. I'll do what I can to protect you. Alright?"

 She nodded, unnerved by his warning. Sure, she knew about the Lothbrok reputation. Yet this was the first time someone point blank warned her with true understanding. She was unsure if she should appreciate the warning or be terrified that he thought Ivar could hurt her. 

 "Give me your phone."

 Silently, she handed it over. He plugged his number in and called himself. With a satisfied nod, he gave it back to her. 

 "Good, don't ever hesitate to call me. Besides, if my brother has his way, none of us would ever meet you. My other brothers want to meet the girl who has Ivar wrapped around her finger already." He winked at her, making her blush. 

 "Hvitty, stop flirting with her!" 

 The flaxen-haired brother grinned, as he watched his brother approach. "I'm not. Just telling her the others want to meet her."

 "Fuck no." Ivar growled, coming to stand between the two. 

 "I'd love to meet your brothers." She commented lightly. "After hearing you talk about them, it'd be nice."

 "Awww, Ivy, you talk about us?" Hvitserk teased, nudged his shoulder with his own. 

 "Not you, asshole."

 Hvitserk laughed, pressing his forehead swiftly to Ivar's. "Come on, the movie has probably started."

 Ivar and Kari followed behind Hvitserk, as he led them to the correct auditorium. Along the way, she handed Ivar a couple of the boxes of candy she bought and the drink picked out for him. 

 "How much fucking candy did you buy?" He grumbled, eyeing the boxes suspiciously. 

 "Enough. If you ask nicely, I might share." She quipped. "I even bought Heksehyl for both of us. Hvitserk said it's your favorite…. and I also got Dumle. Oh, and Guld Barre!" 

 "I did promise you chocolate."

 She giggled. "Yes, you did."

 The three of them found the auditorium and took seats off to the side. Ivar sat in the middle with Kari on his right and Hvitserk on his left. The movie had just started as they sat down, the lights and noise minimal. Though apprehensive about the movie, Kari found herself smiling at just the nostalgic feeling being here evoked. There was something so simple yet profound at being with friends, eating sweets and watching the silver screen. Let alone the darkness of the theater and the nearby munching of popcorn by others and the occasion sound of people talking. She missed this. So, she endowed to enjoy every part of this. Quietly eating her chocolates, she kept her gaze on the screen.

 After some time, Kari felt a large hand on her upper thigh, inching slowly higher and higher. Jolting at the sudden feeling, she grabbed it, trying to stop its further ascent. Immediately, Ivar flipped his hand over and entwined their fingers. She tried to half-heartedly tug out of it, but he maintained a vice-like grip on her hand. In an attempt to glare at him, she swiveled in her seat to gain his attention. Only for him to remain solely focused on the screen. Rolling her eyes, she gave in, shifting back to continue watching the movie. Their fingers remained entangled. 

 Eventually, the chocolate lay forgotten in her lap as the images on the screen became more disturbing and graphic. A few chuckles came from Ivar and Hvitserk and whispered comments made between them. Once someone in the theater screamed as a person on the screen was suddenly killed. The abrupt sound made Kari jump, squeezing Ivar's hand. He laughed, but squeezed her hand back. Not long after, she gave up on watching the movie and just tucked her face against his shoulder. Horror movies were never her thing, the idea of purposefully being scared never appealed to her. And this movie had a thing for people being eaten alive. Not something she wanted imprinted into her brain. The thought crossed her mind that Ivar orchestrated this on purpose, since he seemed to be fully enjoying her cuddling into him. As if without concern, his head lay on top of hers, continuing to hold her hand. If she was not so concerned about having nightmares and trying to block out the hair-raising screams, she might have liked the cuddling. In this instance though, if he moved, she was going to punch him. 

 Once the movie ended, Ivar and Hvitserk argued about the movie- how some of the people should have died or about the graphics of the terrifying creatures. They both became more and more animated as the three of them walked out of the movie theater and towards the waiting SUV. 

 "What did you think, Kari?" Hvitserk asked, taking his seat across from the others, once they all piled in. 

 "She was scared." Ivar answered, leaning back, his arm on the back of the seat and behind her. 

 "That creature was eating that girl's brain while she was still alive! I did not want to see that! I'm going to have nightmares."

 Smirking, Ivar tilted closer, invading her personal space. "Want me to stay with you? I'll keep you safe…. and make sure you dream of other more, pleasurable, things."

 "No, you'd probably try to scare me on purpose." She accused, pushing his body away from her with a pout. 

 "Well, thanks for seeing it with us." Hvitserk spoke up. "Gods, Bjorn would love it. We'll have to tell him."

 The youngest brother nodded before turning back to the brunette by his side. "You coming out with us for drinks now? We always get drinks after."

 "No, I can't. I have to open tomorrow. I need to sleep."

 "Come on, it'll be fine."

 "No. I'll be getting up at 5:30. That's in like…. six hours." This was one thing she was not going to give into. He had dragged her from her bed already once tonight. He was not about to make her lose out on anymore sleep. Not everyone was able to sleep all morning like certain people. 

 "Next time," Hvitserk said with a shrug, a grin on his face as if amused by the interaction across from him. "I'm sure we can all go out again soon. Right, Ivy?"

 Ivar snorted, "Fine. We'll drop you off."

 A discussion about the movie and comparing it to others swiftly captured the two brothers' attention. Finding herself growing tired, Kari just leaned back and listened, her head resting on the back of the seat, and consequently, Ivar's arm. It was different and refreshing seeing him interact with someone he clearly trusted and cared about. His guard was down and even if some of his comments sounded more like sharp barbs, it was said without true malice. The flaxen-haired brother took each verbal jab like water off a duck's back, either making a joke out of the comment or ignoring it. Throughout the interaction, the care and respect for one another was evident, even if on the surface level it appeared dysfunctional. A smile hinted on her lips as she listened to the brothers. She hoped this was not the last time she spent time with Hvitserk. Though his warning still rang in the back of her mind, she liked him. The whole ride back, Ivar kept his arm behind her, sporadically playing with the ends of her hair. 

 At their arrival to her townhouse, Hvitserk said his goodbye to her in the vehicle, surprising her with a swift hug and peck on the cheek. Her face must have been quite flushed if his laughter after meant anything. Ivar grumbled something at his brother in their foreign language as he pulled her out of the SUV. To her further surprise, Ivar walked her to her front door instead of staying with his brother. 

 "Thanks for inviting me out." She said honestly, once they reached the door. 

 "Next time we'll watch something you enjoy."

 Before she could second guess herself, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. Instantly, his arms went around her, pulling her closer. While the hug at the movie theater was sweet and intimate, this hug carried a different tone. It was more urgent and passionate. Her face rested on his collarbone, allowing his scent to envelope her. He laid a soft kiss to the top of her head, resting his chin there after. For a split second, she realized she never wanted to leave this moment. To be safe and warm and comforted and wanted. It was all she had ever hoped for. This was dangerous water they treaded in. With each intimate action, she could feel their friendship sailing closer and closer to the waters of something more. The gentle, easy waters of friendship would not be enough to maintain them. 

 With that thought in mind, she regretfully pulled back. "Goodnight." She murmured. 

 "God natt, kattunge."

 "One of these days, you have to tell me what you're saying."

 A devious smirk grew on his lips. "No, I think I like you being in suspense."

 She laughed, shaking her head. They both hesitated to move, the air tense with something, as if both were waiting for the other to say or do something. 

 "Ok, bye." She finally said, opening her front door. 

 He nodded, taking a step back without removing his heated gaze off of her. 

 Shuddering at the feeling of his smoldering gaze, she let herself into the townhouse and made sure to lock the door behind her. Releasing a deep breath, she leaned her back against the door. What was it about him that tempted her so? He was bad news for her. Yet the more time she spent with him, the more she craved being with him. 

 Glancing down, she stared at his soft, gray jacket she still wore and wondered how symbolic this unintended action was.

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #modern ivar #ivar x ofc #ivars heathen army #ivar romance #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #hvitserk #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #modern!ivar #modern!ivar x oc #modern vikings #to call forth love #gyda lothbrok #mzwrites

[missinghan]

give it a chance ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : college au; roommates au; friends to lovers au

❖ word count : 9,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slightly suggestive & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you convinced yourself to attend a party in order to prevent Lee Minho from doing stupid things; however it’s not so stupid anymore when your roommate said he needed to tell you something important.

❖ a/n : the continuation of what if we is dedicated to @chaninfused, so *clears throat* this is where I hereby declare that she deserves more than what the entire universe can possibly give her; oh hi furat, this is why I’ve been so cryptic all this time. I know this isn’t much but I want to thank you for tolerating me and letting me be mean to you even though we only started talking for a few months; you’re an incredibly great friend and an amazing writer, don’t ever forget that 🖤

one.

It’s been almost a week since Jisung last talked to Minho (albeit texts and FaceTime) and he wakes up to his best friend roaming around his crusty kitchen, struggling to find a bottle of honey. Seungmin’s mom has been constantly sending them thirty packets of rib soup per week. And Minho thinks the sight of Han Jisung slurping on nothing but distorted rice with pork ribs while stressing over his paper for seven days straight is more tragic than his non-existent love life.

“It’s like you’re trying to turn us into gym rats,” Hyunjin snickers lazily, flinging his bangs away from his face. “You even brought us Tupperwares, are you really expecting us not to order tacos impulsively on study nights?” He’s a little dubious about stuff like this because he can feel the actual horror of only eating chicken breast and string beans just by seeing Chan cooking them up. 

Seungmin chucks a piece of lettuce towards his direction, “Don’t you have anything else to do other than complaining?” He knows that when Jisung and Hyunjin decide to order food on study nights, they’re gonna do anything but study.

“Uhm, I actually do,” he replies nonchalantly. “I’m going through Minho’s phone.”

Jisung takes a seat next to him by the counter, propping his head onto his hands, “What’s the point? There’s nothing but cat photos and cat memes...and also Y/N as his background.”

“That angle is hideous, by the way,” Hyunjin comments like the true photography geek he is, which is completely ignored by Minho because he’s too cranky to start a fight at ten in the morning. “But it’s kinda cute for you to do that, so I’m gonna turn a blind eye.”

Jisung asks out of the blue, “Who’s going to BamBam’s party this Sunday? Well, besides the other two-thirds of 3RACHA.” 

“I have a midterm on Monday, dumbass,” Seungmin mumbles while washing his vegetables at the sink. 

“And I’m sleeping over at Lix’s for a project,” Hyunjin informs him lamely, having no intention to attend another single frat party. At least not BamBam’s frat parties—that guy has the weirdest friends; a chick was so drunk that she thought Hyunjin was her boyfriend and almost tried to make out with him on the dance floor. 

Jisung secretly hates going to parties without his friends- no, actually, he never goes to parties without people from his social circle because he dreads the whole introduction part that requires formalities and inevitable awkwardness. But it’s not like that with Minho, ten minutes into their very first conversation and he feels like he’s known him for years. 

In short, he will die if Minho doesn’t come to the party. Chan can only chat with him for so long until his DJ duty occurs and Changbin’s probably gonna be too busy doing keg stands to care about his antisocial friend. 

“Fine, I’ll go,” Minho gives in while chopping up the chicken breasts and this prompts Jisung to clap happily like a seal for the next twenty seconds as he skips over to the fridge to fetch a water bottle. “But we’re gonna need a ride, I’m not taking my motorbike for some crackhead to puke on it. Ask Chan later when you crash at his place.”

Jisung tosses his head back to take a peek at the clock hanging by the bookshelf, and it reads 10:07 AM. He really should be getting for his class at eleven because traffic sucks but he’s not feeling like sitting through two hours of Park ranting about marketing strategies. “Can’t Y/N just drive us? I don’t think she’d let anyone else take you home when you’re not sober,” he ponders, earning a nod of agreement from both of his roommates. 

Just when Minho opens his mouth to brush it off, he stops himself to process the information again and holds back a ‘you’re right’ because he hates letting people know that they’re not wrong. He wouldn’t let anyone drive you home when you’re drunk either. “Her car’s with her dad right now,” he tries to sound casual when three pairs of curious eyes are glued onto his back. “I, uh, sorta had it run into a tree last week.”

“You what? How are you still alive?” Hyunjin’s jaw is on the floor and Seungmin accidentally dumps too much vinegar into his salad while Jisung’s choking on the iced cold water, coughing furiously after into the sleeve of his hoodie. Guess Chan’s gonna have to drive them both. After all, he can never say ‘no’ to J.One. 

Minho murmurs, “A dude rear-ended me, fucking idiot.” He finishes marinating the chicken breasts and arranges them nicely onto a tray with aluminum foil on top, pushing it into the preheated oven. “And basically she’s never letting me touch her car again,” he sighs while staring into midair dreamily, flashbacking to last Friday when you immediately Ubered yourself all the way from campus to downtown after picking up his call. All he got was thirty seconds of affection; you made sure that he’s not hurt and the rest was just a monstrous tantrum. He ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 

“My my, you two are just like an old married couple,” Hyunjin chuckles lightheartedly and shakes his head, scrolling through the series of texts in amusement, “What even is this? I swear your conversation consists of 60% ‘when are you going home?’, 40% ‘your lunch is here’ and 20% terrible cat memes.”

“We’re roommates,” Minho drags the word through gritted teeth, holding back all the murderous thoughts inside his head because he feels like Hyunjin’s just asking for a death wish. It’s too early for this. 

Unexpectedly, Seungmin decides he’s in a pretty good mood today since he aced his OChem pop quiz yesterday; meaning, he’s gonna stick his nose into his friend’s business whenever there’s a chance. “Don’t you guys share a bed too?” he pretends to play dumb only to receive a kick in the shin from the older boy. 

“We’re also broke,” Minho cranes his neck tiredly, washing the dirty knife under the tap. “Besides, the heater in the living room sucks.”

“You both even smell the same, it’s getting kinda creepy. Please don’t tell me you guys also share showers to have a light water bill,” Jisung makes a gagging noise and Minho thinks he’s already said too much. His grip on the knife tightens for a split second before letting it drop into the sink. He doesn’t trust himself with anything sharp the moment Hyunjin started this unwanted conversation. He also regrets stealing Changbin’s meal prep recipes to feed his trash friends. 

Minho questions callously, “We just use the same shampoo and shower gel, what’s the big deal?” His hands go for the box of oatmeal that Felix left here last time in the cabinet full of random food. He doesn’t get why Seungmin would buy so much groceries like he’s in a pandemic knowing damn well that his idiotic roommates can’t cook for shit. 

Hyunjin purses his lips, trying to prove his point, “Don’t you think that it’s weird? You don’t do those things with us.”

“Because none of you would fucking house me when I was on the verge of being homeless!”

“And why is she yelling at you through texts anyway? Bro, there’s like ten missed calls here with at least a hundred ‘where are you?’. Why is she terrorizing you this early in the morning?” Minho immediately snaps out of his semi-angry trance, chest heaving up and down. 

“Oh shit,” he facepalms himself. “I promised to pick her up at ten from class, what time is it again?”

“You’re fifteen minutes late, my friend,” Jisung supplies unhelpfully. “It’ll take another ten to arrive at campus, without traffic that is. You’re so dead. D-E-A-D.” It feels weird to hear something correct coming out of Jisung’s mouth (twice in a row) and now Minho wishes he could just whack his friend unconscious on the floor with the new set of microphones that Chan gave him last year for Secret Santa. 

“Oh, I left your rice sitting at ‘warm’, by the way,” Minho makes a grab for his biker jacket and helmet on the counter before fleeing out of the apartment with his sneakers half-way tucked in. It’s not even been thirty minutes since they’ve seen each other for the past week and Jisung’s already choked on water, not once, but twice because of Lee Minho. Sometimes he wonders if the universe is telling him that he needs new friends. 

two. 

“Your boyfriend is late.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss at Yeji while staring at Minho’s contact on your phone anxiously. There’s no reason for you to be; worst-case scenario, you can just take the 0325 home and lock him outside for the night so that he’ll have no choice but to endure Chan’s embarrassing sleeping habits. He wouldn’t even notice either way because he’d be too busy swearing in his sleep to be annoyed. 

Yeji puts her hair up into a ponytail after stretching her limbs tiredly. She only has one class today and no choice but to stay on campus for her shift at the café before lunch break. Too bad Woojin can’t cover her today because of midterms. “I’m only speaking facts,” she tells you with a yawn and notices the slight pout on your face. “Hey, don’t be sad just because your stupid boyfriend can’t pick you up. I can call Chaeryeong if you need a ride here and there, she wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m not fucking sad!”

“Y/N, you look more depressed than Ryujin when she got a B+ in calc.” That’s irrelevant, Shin Ryujin already has a GPA booster after signing up for Kim’s stats class, one B+ won’t make it any less sparkly.

You only let out a prolonged sigh after checking your phone for the tenth time in the past half an hour. He isn’t picking up any of your calls, your messages probably can’t even reach him and now you’re sitting at M.I.A Cafe with a cup of plain water after standing outside at the front gate for so long like an idiot. An idiot, who’s hopelessly in love with her roommate- wait what? 

Listen, you already know that this is going to happen. It’s awfully inevitable and it’s getting harder and harder as the days pass by because summer is almost here. Meaning, Minho’s gonna move out soon, according to the contract. 

Are you sad about that? 

Yeah, kinda.

The more you think about it the more you regret your decision that day to let him stay with you. Because now you don’t think you’d be able to sleep without him next to you, hogging the blanket all to himself; you get angsty when he’s not home even if he’s just at dance practice; you’re definitely getting way too used to sharing an earphone with him while you both are dreading your assignments silently at the kitchen counter. And now you’re getting nervous just because he’s thirty minutes late. He’s never late, not even to your Monday Movie Night where you both can pig out and binge-watch the Avatar: The Last Airbender series until you’re sick of it. 

Maybe you’re relying on him too much. Hypothetically speaking, it’s not his fault for the damage of your car but you’re just making excuses to be with him. You even set him as your emergency contact. It’s kinda tedious to be your roommate, you realize. All of those things aren’t mandatory and he can simply mind his own business without having to feel obligated because of the ‘roommates’ label yet he’d still choose you, over everything else. Perhaps he’s dealing with his own first world problems and forgot to leave you a message this time. 

Yeji inquires breezily, wiping a cup dry with a towel, “Also, are you going to BamBam’s party this weekend?”

“For me to carry your ass home after getting shitfaced and sit through another two-hour lecture from Lia? I’ll pass thank you very much.”

She indicates with a quirk of her perfectly dark brow, “What if I tell you that Minho’s gonna be there?” Now she sounds like she’s the one who’s crushing on Lee Minho and not you. Never knew that your friends can be this creepy but the more you learn… “Jisung just told me he found a plus one aka Mister Celebrity to attend that frat party with, you wouldn’t have the heart to let me be the loner right?” she pouts with her nose scrunched and it reminds you too much of Light Fury so you look away, knowing that you wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance if she kept this up.

“How is that my problem?” you merely roll your eyes, slightly annoyed. “And also, isn’t Jisung supposed to have his marketing class now?”

Yeji doesn’t give a damn about what on Earth Han Jisung is doing with his life so she just brushes your question off. “Would you let Minho drink irresponsibly?”

You nod without hesitation, though it feels wrong coming out of your mouth, “He can do whatever he wants...as long as my carpet remains clean after his hangover.”

“Would you let me drink irresponsibly?”

“The same goes for you,” you tell her monotonously. “And I only picked you up because Lia sounded like she was hyperventilating when you attended that one law brat’s birthday party. Na Jaemin, wasn’t it? Hate that guy, by the way.”

Yeji thinks it’s time for you to open up even more and not despise people that much. Having Lee Minho as your roommate is already a huge step-up but it’s not like there have been any modifications to your routine except the fact that another human being is simply enduring your bitchy ass of a loner. She wants you to be really out there, just not messing with shit like doing keg stands because Seo Changbin is a terrible influence. Woojin once had to drop his shift at the sushi place to drive Jeongin home because Changbin left him hanging on the beanbag chair for a game of beer pong. Jeongin has never gone to another single party since. 

“You hate literally everyone!” Yeji’s getting impatient, you can feel it.

“Are you telling me it’s my fault that people are shitty?” you bark, massaging the sides of your temple tiredly. You wish you could just drop the entirety of your current presentation to Yeji because your brain cells are already evaporating one by one into thin air.

She barks back, merely sneering, “C’mon! Y/N, it’s not like you ever have plans for the weekend.”

“But I’m having midterms on Monday, I didn’t spend my time on those notes for nothing.”

She shakes her head at you almost in disapproval. Sure, you’re a coward for backing out on this because BamBam’s no stranger to you. That Thai kid has been hanging out with Chan since middle school and he always offers to buy you coffee whenever you happen to drop by as they’re working on a project together. He’s a nice guy, but you don’t know him that well. Something in your gut is telling you that he has weird friends (he totally does). And you’re not about to overdrink only to blurt out an awful confession to Minho while being surrounded by a bunch of crackheads that aren’t in your social sphere.

“I heard kids are vapi-” Yeji stops herself, thinking she should just give up, and get ready for the next batch of sleep-deprived customers coming in at lunch break before Jeongin chucks an avocado at her direction for chit-chatting too much about your gigantic crush on Minho. “Nevermind, it’s not like you’d care anyway, have fun with reviewing I guess.” And with that, she leaves you alone with the cup of plain water to dump the used coffee grounds in the trash.

It takes you at least ten seconds to comprehend what she just said. And you’ve come up with a new yet very last-minute decision: screw midterm because you’re making sure that Lee Minho’s going home in one piece. 

Very timely, your phone buzzes on the wooden counter.

[10:38 AM]

lino | hey you still on campus?

three.

The blush scattered across your cheekbones just grows ten shades darker when you see Minho at the front gate leaning against his black Kawasaki; disheveled hair, hands stuffed inside his pockets, occasional puffs of smoke escaping his lips, and unbothered gaze. You’ve never told him this, you’re not telling him this now, and you’re never gonna tell him; but he looks stupidly good in that biker jacket. Again, you don’t get how someone can look this good early in the morning. 

“What are you doing here?” you murmur grimly, approaching him from behind. It feels like he’s doing this to your heart on purpose, without even trying. And those girls over there are making you very uncomfortable by eyeing your roommate up and down like he’s an expensive piece of steak with a gold leaf sticking to it.

Minho turns sideways and flashes you a smile; your little heart just did a perfect cartwheel because of that, it can only take so much. “Sorry, I kinda lost track of time, but I still promised to pick you up, didn’t I?” he says casually as your face morphs into a deep frown because you’re basically confused. The only problem is: you don’t even know why you’re confused. There’s this fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and now you feel as though someone just gives you a blow to the head when Minho looks straight into your eyes, brows slightly knitted together.

This is not healthy. 

“You didn’t answer my calls or my texts.”

Minho thinks you look cuter than usual when you’re silently fuming because you’re not the type to lash out on people. But it’s not so cute anymore when you threatened to flush his AirPods down the toilet that one time when he spilled ketchup on your carpet. He just hopes he doesn’t end up sleeping on the couch tonight like last time. 

“I put my phone on silent, as always,” he reminds you of how much of a pain in the ass it is to receive a call-back or a simple reply from him. 

You make a face, “Whatever, didn’t I tell you not to make a scene? Have you seen those chicks back there? They’re watching me as if I’m sabotaging their dreams of eating you alive.” Well, you can’t exactly blame your roommate for having girls gushing over him wherever he goes because...it’s his fault for looking like a snack all the time. 

Minho quickly detects how you’re not overly fond of his admirers and needless to say, he’s fairly amused. “Then let them,” he puts an arm over your shoulders and pulls you flushed against him, ruffling your hair. Moments later, you’re already hearing scandalous gasps along with hushed whispers going through your eardrums like a never-ending train. It’s really setting your nerves on fire. 

“Don’t you think that this is weird?”

“What?” Now it’s Minho who’s confused here. 

You slightly push him away and avert your gaze elsewhere to avoid eye contact. “We’re roommates, right?” you mumble, slightly unsure about...all of this. 

“Hmm, what about it?”

“Well, I don’t know…” you fiddle with the hem of your jacket and sigh. “What if people keep getting the wrong idea about us?” You sound somewhat regretful as if your decision of taking him in as your roommate was a mistake, as if you feel like it’s better off if he wasn’t in your life at all, as if the past month was completely meaningless. Since when did things become this complicated? It started with a harmless one-month contract and now Minho’s not sure of what he should do next. But that’s not it, is it? Maybe he’s just overthinking too much. 

He looks hesitant for a moment there, very not-Lee-Minho of him. “We’re still cool right?” Minho tilts his head to the side, the afternoon sunlight slips through fluffs of white clouds and brings the constellations in his warm brown eyes to life. Though he looks like a scolded child, you can’t help but want to put this moment into a frame and simply cherish it for the rest of your life. 

“Beats me,” you breathe out, silently hating yourself for not being able to get angry at him. It’s harder than you thought, really, and it doesn’t help when his eyes keep doing that thing to your poor little heart. “Make me pasta and we’re good,” you end up chuckling when Minho’s expression turns a solid three hundred and sixty at the offer.

“That’s not a very smart move for a business major, your loss,” he replies with a goofy smile, tossing the helmet that he got you yesterday in your direction. And if you pay attention enough, you can almost see Minho exhaling out of relief. But you’re too busy staring at the ground to douse yourself in your own giddiness to notice. “Oh crap, I think I left my wallet at Hyunjin’s,” he tells you after swinging a leg over on his shiny vehicle. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “You don’t need your wallet to make me pasta now do you?”

“By the way, are you going to BamBam’s party?”

“Only if you’re going,” you scratch the bridge of your nose with your ring finger, a little embarrassed to admit that he’s the only reason why you’re ditching midterms. 

Minho’s hearty laugh fills your eardrums, shit-eating grin and all. “If it makes you feel better, Chan’s driving us,” he voices without looking at you, but your chest still swells either way. 

You fucking hate how you have the softest spot for him. 

four.

You’re already regretting this although you’ve only been sitting in Chan’s back seats for less than twenty minutes. Crankiness takes over your body as a result of reviewing for the whole afternoon, your eyelids are getting droopy, and your head seems to be all too big for your neck at this rate. More reasons for you to not drink tonight. 

“Ugh, why am I even here?” you groan, and Jisung scrunches his nose, slightly alarmed because you’re not usually this loud unless you’re high on caffeine. 

Minho tells you in the most lighthearted way possible, “Because you love me.” 

You wish you could just put his head through a wall because everything and anything coming out of his mouth are never healthy for your mind, or heart. “Uhm, no I don’t.”

“But you did confess your love to me,” he singsongs as if he just hit a jackpot with his lottery ticket, angling his head to toss you a wink. “I have receipts, ma’am. They’re right here, in my heart.” Minho’s never seen you so giddy before so he recorded everything, but he’s not planning on putting himself on a chopping block by telling you that. 

You shove his arm and purse your lips, flaming cheeks but the car’s too dark for him to see it. “I was sick, asshole, I talk shit more when I have a fever than when I’m drunk,” you defend yourself helplessly, not enjoying the fact that he had to bring it up when you’re in a confined space with Seo Changbin and Han Jisung. 

“Minho doesn’t like it when Y/N raises her voice.” Great, now he’s talking in third person. 

“What are you even? Four?”

He winks at you, “Baby me, baby.”

“Oh my god shut the fuck up and get away from me!”

“You’ll never get rid of me, baby.” Eventually, you give up because you’re too mentally exhausted and there’s still a long night ahead of you. You’re not wasting your energy in pointless arguments with him because you both yell at each other on a daily basis anyway. 

“Maybe he’ll zip it if you tell him that you love him,” Jisung suggests innocently with a not-so-innocent look on his face. He’s already acting dumb when he’s this fucking sober so you’re not looking forward to two hours later when vodka’s practically replaced his own blood. 

“I’d rather chew off my own foot.” Changbin snorts involuntarily at your stiff remark, Chan mutters a small ‘ouch’ while Jisung’s too busy laughing his ass off. And a demeaning silence descends after that. 

Minho’s right next to you, oddly unresponsive to the situation, his head leaning against your shoulder as he gazes dejectedly out the window. You don’t see how stormy his eyes are. He also misses his motorcycle tremendously because Chan’s the safest (slowest) driver to ever exist. No joke, if he keeps going at the pace of thirty miles per hour then you should just skip the party and watch a movie while getting drunk at his place altogether. 

“Can you go any fucking slower?”

“Excuse me?” Chan laughs in disbelief, he’s a little offended because he personally thinks he’s a good driver, maybe a little bit too obedient when it comes to the law. Hey, at least you know you’re in good hands. “I’m not trying to get us all killed before BamBam could poison one of you guys.” 

Jisung purses his lips as he’s reminded of the last party where he ran into that Thai dude. He gave him a plastic cup, telling him that it’s merely a harmless fruity vodka only for Jisung to get kicked out by an Uber driver after throwing up in the back seats. Turns out, the lemons and oranges in the cocktail were relatively spoilt. 

“I’m gonna die from boredom before we could even get into a car accident,” Minho informs him unconstructively, staring at some random notifications from Instagram of people commenting on his cats’ photos, text messages from his mom and swipes them all away. Mostly to chuckle to himself like a moron because of his lock screen. Yes, your stupid face is still on there after three weeks and you don’t know if you should be crying or laughing.

Chan narrows his eyes at the rear-view mirror, “It seems like you’re entertaining yourself just fine by looking at Y/N’s face.” 

“This photo does make me laugh because it’s priceless,” the younger boy states without turning his head to look at you. “But still, bored.” 

The car grows silent again soon after because Chan’s already been stressed out enough from traffic since clearly, people can’t drive to save their own lives. But it’s not like your friends can keep their mouths shut for the rest of the trip anyway. 

“Boreddd,” Minho voices randomly while a J.One’s song is blasting through the speaker. It’s a terribly soft song and it doesn’t help when Minho feels like he can downright sleep through an earthquake, potentially falling into an enormous crack on the Earth’s surface and still being able to nap like there’s no tomorrow. He’s just glad that Jisung grew out of ‘Wow’ and embraces his awkward self through his own music. It’s..sentimental but what’s a J.One song without that element?

Changbin looks up from his phone for half a second, wholly uninterested. “Then shut up and sleep,” he says expressionlessly. Very timely, his most recent track comes up next on the playlist and he starts rapping along with it. Minho thinks he can really use a good eye shut as SpearB is performing live right behind him because Changbin can only stay sober like this for so long until he gets his hands on one of BamBam’s sketchy-looking concoctions. 

You’re starting to get bored too at this rate because usually, during times like this when the car is filled with nothing but music and everyone (except for the driver) feels like they’re falling into a food coma, a certain idiot will—

“Y/N, don’t you have a midterm on Monday?” Ah, there it is. 

Jisung bends himself forward and drapes an arm over the leather seat, scrunching his nose at the sight of Minho sleeping soundly against your shoulder. He’s still bitter about the fact that Minho refuses to drive anyone other than you with his motorcycle for some reason. Exclusive things are always so annoying. 

You exhale deeply because Jisung reminds you of that one kid who always asks questions that stress the hell out of the teachers back in high school. Would it kill for him to just shut up once in a while? 

“I do, and I haven’t got a wink of sleep since yesterday afternoon,” you tell him rather lazily, shifting when Minho snuggles himself closer to you, his hair tickling your jawline. You pray he doesn’t know how fast your heart is beating. “A little alcohol might spare me a night of crying myself to sleep.” 

Jisung lets his bottom lip stuck out like he’s a fucking five-year-old not allowed to get his favorite ice-cream flavor. “Aww, you should have asked Minho for cuddles then, pretty sure he’d be more than happy to—,” he remarks sarcastically and you wish you could just throw him in the middle of an intersection. He’s lucky because Minho’s a heavy sleeper or he would have been knocked senseless or something. The last thing Chan needs is being forced to pull over for having wild animals wrestle the shit out of each other in his vehicle. 

“Hey, fuck off,” you snarl at him, knowing you should have chosen the passenger seat instead. That way, you wouldn’t be fuming inside because you can’t physically strangle Han Jisung to his imminent death. He has already tattooed that image into the back of your brain and you swear you’ve never heard a creepier chuckle from your friend. 

Jisung notices the coral tint on your cheeks and sneers, leaning back against his seat. “Yeah right, as if you’re actually gonna get drunk,” he says snarkily. “You’re just gonna be there to prevent Lee Minho from making bad decisions.” 

“I decided to come because Yeji wanted me-“

“Yeji who? In what world will you have time for her when you’re too busy staring at Minho like a total creep? Wanna bet ten bucks?” 

That’s bullshit because Lee Minho is already your entire world. 

Chan butts in, “Make that fifty.”

Changbin raises his hand, “I’d bet my Tesla.” Your friends really spelled out ‘a bunch of fucking clowns’ in bold, gigantic capital letters and you’re this close to facepalm yourself against Chan’s steering wheel. This is why you don’t go to parties with them that often because you’re stuck with cleanup duties with Seungmin until these crackheads grow out of their amateur drinking habits. 

“You’re just jealous because he would rather call you an Uber than give you a lift himself,” you say pointedly and Jisung lets out the loudest, most scandalous gasp. So dramatic. 

“You,” he jabs a finger at you, eyes wide in accusation. “Need a nap.”

You laugh dryly, ignoring the urge to snap a picture of his flabbergasted expression and turn it into a new meme for your group chat. “You don’t say, Han, you don’t say.”

And Changbin rolls his eyes over the moon, vividly picturing where this disastrous conversation is gonna go. Basically, he wants you to get shitfaced as soon as you step foot into BamBam’s house so he’ll have a sappy, drunk confession video to toss on Twitter tonight because Woojin just posted a picture of him with a drumstick dipped inside a glass of what looks like a watered-down Margarita. He’s highly concerned since there hasn’t been anything juicy on his feed other than his friends creeping people out with their questionable content. 

“If you two don’t end up getting drunk and kiss, I’m gonna be pissed,” Changbin says casually as if it’s just an afterthought. This prompts you to chuck your phone in his direction—you can care less about your screen protector at this point if it means stopping him from taunting you further. 

He asserts like a snake, “Hey, remember that time where you tripped over Kkami and totally crushed Minho under your weight?”

“I blame gravity for that.”

“But Albert Einstein said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love.”

“Who cares about Albert Einstein?!” you whisper-shout harshly, cautiously eyeing Minho’s sleeping figure. He scrunches his nose and murmurs something that you can’t quite hear before turning over to face you completely. His arms unexpectedly slip underneath yours like second nature. He furrows his eyebrows occasionally, other times he’d be grinning like an idiot and his lips are slightly agape, full eyelashes framing his eyes beautifully. Sometimes you wonder how weird his dreams are whenever you caught him talking (and cursing) in his slumber. 

Changbin wants to pry aloud when you start staring at Minho for too long; he might as well be tossed on the freeway at this point before exasperation squeezes the little amount of oxygen left out of his chest. This is worse than Hyunjin’s terrible rom coms. He props his head onto his hand in boredom as Chan pulls over and turns off the engine. “Hey we’re here, why not wake your prince up with a kiss—”

“I’m gonna kick your ass,” you threaten. 

Now there are two distasteful tattoos at the back of your head. And you will not hesitate for a heartbeat sacrificing the entirety of your bank account to get them removed. To get Lee Minho removed from your mind.

If only it were that easy.  

“Mhmm,” the figure beside you lets out a low grunt and hugs your arm closer instinctively. His warmth seeps through the fabric of your denim jacket and sets your heart on fire. You’re ready to flick his forehead any second now to interrupt his slumber but before you could even do anything, Seo Changbin aggressively opens the door and you widen your eyes in horror. Where the fuck did he get a megaphone? And what for?

“Bitch wake up! Those drinks aren’t gonna finish themselves!”

It’d be a miracle if you ended up finding him alive by dawn. 

five.

“Y/N you ass, give it back!

“No, we’ve only been here for three hours and this is your fifth cup already,” you tell her in a mildly serious tone before dumping her cup of whatever the fuck of a yellow substance that Ryujin gave her ten minutes ago into the sink. 

Yeji plops herself onto the sofa in the living room after you drag her out of the kitchen where people are making out on the marble counter. Glad to see nothing’s changed...idiots. “God, you’re such a party pooper, I shouldn’t have told you to come,” she complains in between small hiccups, alcohol tinting her cheeks beet red. 

“I’m here to save your ass and this is how you’re repaying me?” Your question didn’t come out as coherent and threatening as you imagined and every single cell inside your body is shaking for no specific reason. 

Your friend narrows her eyes down into a mere glare like a detective in those crimes shows that you spend way too much time on and you’re debating whether you should be laughing or pissing yourself. She fucking knows that you’re lying. She fucking knows the sole reason for you to be here. “Give me a break, it’s not like you’re doing anything besides staring at your boyfriend from afar,” Yeji scoffs dejectedly. 

“God forbids ‘Lee Minho’ and ‘my boyfriend’ go in the same sentence,” you grit, subconsciously averting your gaze around the living room to spot your roommate. All he’s been doing is being held back by Chan when he tried to murder Changbin once, catching up with his old friends from high school and hanging out with some of his classmates, ranting about how much he dreads Kim’s eight AM, gushing with Hyunjin over some senior’s choreography set. By the looks of it, Jisung must have handed him at least seven of those red party cups from the bar—thanks to BamBam who keeps restocking them every hour. 

Yeji chuckles creepily when the alcohol finally hits her hard, you think you just got chills by the way that she’s leaning closer. “Of course not,” she hiccups into your ear, words slurred, “Lee Minho’s not my boyfriend, he’s your boyfriend.” You look at her in the eye, and mentally regret your life choices. How insufferable. 

“I mean, seriously,” she slams her body back onto the couch and groans; you can’t tell if it’s out of frustration or the cushion is too soft for her back. “It’s like you’re living the life of the main protagonist in a Harry Styles fanfiction! Do you know how many girls and boys would kill to live in the same apartment as that?” Her index finger is pointed directly at the person you’ve been watching and avoiding all night, across the room with a dart in his hand as he stands in front of the dartboard. 

“Were you aiming for the board or were you plotting to kill me? Because I can’t tell! I-can’t-fucking-tell!” Changbin shouts over the music and you momentarily cringe at the crack in his voice; it’s never a college party without one of your friends riling each other up over the dumbest things. And also, who thinks it’s a good idea to lend an unstable Lee Minho a sharp object of any kind?

You look away as heat flares through your nostrils when Minho accidentally glances at you after laughing at some corny joke that Chan made. He’s more than mildly hammered right now, you suppose, because, well, Chan can only make people laugh when they’re exceptionally drunk. 

A stupid question then slips out of your lips. “With what?” It sounds like you only have one brain cell and are perpetually dumb. It makes you feel even dumber when there’s nothing but a can of Coke inside your body. 

“A hottie who dances, cooks, has a good sense of humor, lowkey a genius, highkey a tsundere, shares a name with a famous actor. Far more handsome than the actor himself, if I dare.” Yeji has no hesitation whatsoever naming every reason as to why people on campus shamelessly throw themselves at your roommate on a daily basis. And now your head grows ten times fuzzier, floating mundanely in the clouds above. Basically, you feel like you’re drunk—except your confidence isn’t sky high enough to do something stupid—which makes no absolute sense. 

The silver-haired girl next to you puts an arm around your neck and giggles, you’re highly perturbed that her vocal cords are gonna give in tomorrow when she convinces you through FaceTime that you should be extra careful with your notes since she won’t be showing up to class. “Oh! And he has three cats, right? Cat people are said to be more intuitive and thoughtful, that’s a bonus,” Yeji asserts and your jaw is on the floor at this rate. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance during lunch break and she already knows this much?

No wonder Minho never talked about his cats with Felix and Seungmin again.

“I bet you read that off a Buzzfeed article.” 

“Doesn’t necessarily mean it’s wrong!”

You inhale and exhale deeply, linking your fingers together, “Yeah, but that’s all people will ever see.”

“Well, what else can they like about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say bluntly, but the rouge on your cheeks is anything but ‘blunt’. “They don’t see how stuck-up he is, how he loves hogging the blanket all to himself, how he secretly stocks up a stash of trashy snacks. They don’t see the way his eyes sparkle when he looks into their eyes during a conversation because he’s actually a very attentive listener.”

Yeji pats your back without turning her head, slightly amused, “I think you meant how he looks into your eyes during a conversation.”

Your eyes scan the room one more time to find Minho hugging his stomach from laughing too much, there are actual tears in his eyes because Changbin just lost a bet and apparently he has to belly flop himself into the pool as a punishment. You haven’t seen him this happy in a while, even when he’s potentially dying from a really bad stomachache but it still puts your heart at ease knowing he’s having fun tonight. 

Needless to say, he always knocks the breath right out of your lungs without much effort. Even when he’s ditched the leather jacket and ripped jeans, you still think no one looks better than him in a large t-shirt and sweatpants. 

“But I don’t get it,” Yeji looks over at you this time, real carefully because your tone just grows firmer and more serious. “How can he just stand there, laugh...and look so beautiful?”

“I told you—”

“Yeah that’s exactly what I need to hear right now, Yeji,” you facepalm almost immediately, highly disappointed in yourself. 

Jisung’s getting his ten dollars on Monday when you surprise him with two slices of cheesecake from his favorite dessert place. Changbin can keep his Tesla and Chan...Chan isn’t getting anything.

You push yourself off the blue velvet couch and groan, you’re getting sore quickly because the cushions are far too soft. “Let me get some fresh air, I feel like I’m gonna to lose my mind,” you tell your friend but you doubt that she caught it since the music is all too loud for students to communicate properly. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why fistfights during parties are a thing. 

“Uhm, wait,” Yeji tugs onto your sleeve and jerks her head towards the direction of Minho. “I’m sorry but what the hell does your boyfriend want now?”

“Huh where—“

Like..three feet away. Or a whole lot closer. 

“Why didn’t you answer my texts?” And you find Minho standing in front of you with his arms crossed stubbornly, eyebrows knitted together and tinted pink cheeks. He looks a little pissed off, and you don’t think you’re both on the same page here. 

When you give him a ‘what do you mean’ look, your roommate feels the need to unlock his phone and jab his index finger against his poor crusty screen as he shows you at least fifty messages that he’s been spamming in the last half an hour. This reminds you of the yellow Post-It note that Minho violently smacked onto your fridge the very night when he first moved in. 

‘I hereby fucking declare that if we did end up going to the same party (doubt btw), we would keep our phones with us 25/8 so one can save the other’s ass from stupid decisions— lee minho’ he wrote. Minho knows all too well the only ass that needs to be saved is his. And you’ve thought about taking the note down several times but you don’t think you’d have the heart to. 

“Oh,” your head draws a blank canvas and you look for your phone in your pocket. But then, “I left my phone in Chan’s car.”

Minho rolls his eyes at you and decides that he’s too impatient to wait for Chan to sober up and remember where he left his keys. “Whatever,” he manages to crack a small smile, one that shines through the dimmed LED light on the ceiling and makes your heart stuck in your throat. “Let’s get out of here, I have something to tell you.” 

“Hey hey hey,” Yeji tries to get up from the couch but her limbs are too wobbly. “You can’t just tap out all of a sudden and steal her from me like that. Don’t even think for a minute you second rate—”

“Yeah, no, she’s mine.”

You’re downright baffled. But you’re not sure if it’s because of what he said ten seconds ago and your heart is going haywire, your brain cells are giving in on you or it’s because he’s tugging you by the wrist and piloting you through the impending chaos of sloppy college students. 

You’re not sure if you want to know. You’re not sure if you’re ready. 

six.

Fall arrives sooner than you thought and it almost makes you miss summer. Though you didn’t really have anything exciting besides an internship that refrained you from living on YouTube for too long. 

The evening is oddly cold, but you’ve never had a problem with the tips of your fingers growing chilly. It’s different tonight—it’s the kind of coldness that slips through your flesh and into your bones, coming in contact with the thumping force of your heart, causing it to shiver. There’s nothing to do but keep your gaze straight forward, your feet moving on their own with the one and only goal of heading home. Clouds with the murky color of wet ashes pass by, and the ground as its dank reflection—a reminder of how humanity is ruining the planet. 

The streets are so quiet and tranquil; you’re afraid that Minho might be able to hear your heartbeat. Now you’re pointing a finger at society in accusation because it’s the weekend yet no elder couples are taking their night strolls, no middle-aged ladies in fluffy jackets are walking their spoiled teacups dogs and no wasted college students are roaming the streets with ‘trouble’ spelled out on their forehead. Really, you’d rather stare at people in a creepy way and zone out than constantly thinking about Lee Minho when he’s right beside you. 

This is terribly suffocating and you don’t think if you can keep this up in the next thirty minutes until both of you get home and melt into the comfort of your bed. 

“Sober up, Mister Celebrity, that’s too much fun for tonight.” Minho winces slightly when you press a can of cold green tea against his cheeks as he’s about to doze off on the wooden bench next to the vending machine. While he’s taking a swig, you feel a silent obligation to take a seat but your eyes are determinedly fixed on the curb. 

The bench suddenly feels far too big and the night breeze is far too cold for Minho’s liking, so he shifts his body closer, fingers brushing over yours and sending electricity down your spine. “What do you mean?” he scoffs, finding it hard to not look at you so his gaze is temporarily glued onto the can of green tea in his palms. “Tonight was nothing compared to Jisung’s birthday.” He can still feel the remaining warmth from your hands, it makes him wonder how it’d feel to actually hold them. 

“Ugh, god,” you shake your head in disbelief, internally cringing. “Don’t even remind me.”

You still don’t know what Hyunjin fed him that day to the point he couldn’t remember what happened. All hell broke loose Felix posted a video of him pretending to be a stupid ostrich and trying to do a mating dance towards Jisung on Twitter. No one dares to talk about that scarred video since. Now that he’s reminded you of it, you wish you didn’t own brain cells in the first place. This is why the internet is scary. 

“What is it that you wanted to tell me anyway?” 

Minho stops for a second at your question and places his beverage down on the bench. He stares distantly at the space ahead as if he’s fighting with himself inside his own head, seriously contemplating something. It’s come to your attention that this isn’t very like his usual self. Minho never hesitates for a second when he has something in mind. Even when he knows that you might rip his head off.

He exhales deeply, turns his head, and makes direct eye contact with you for what seems like an eternity. His eyes are as wide open and honest as a child’s, they possess something so much more the longer you stare at them. A warmth, safety. Your heart is gonna combust if he doesn’t get this over with soon. 

Then, “I think I forgot to put yeast in the batter.” Wait what?

“Minho!” you punch his arm, earning a low grunt from the blond-haired boy. “Don’t fucking scare me like that!” He’s looking at you as though your eyes are turning red with rage and smoke is coming out of your ears, scared for his own life but truthfully, you’re just relieved. Surprisingly. 

“Wait, so you’re not mad?” he asks you with a wide-eyed expression, trying way too hard to keep a straight face. “Aren’t we supposed to bring homemade bread for the get together at the nursing home tomorrow?”

“Old people still enjoy Bingo for some reason, they can have that instead of bread.” His mouth forms a small ‘o’ as he scoots closer to you and you can tell that he reeks off alcohol, which is making you a little dizzy. When your gaze falls elsewhere but Lee Minho, you attempt to appear casual, “But if you wanna bake so badly, I can still pull an all-nighter and start over with you.” That was doable, but you could have done better—should have sounded like you didn’t really care. 

Minho flings his bangs away from his face and tosses his head back, chuckling breathlessly. “Don’t you have a midterm to stress over instead of me? I don’t want you to pick out every single strand of hair on your head after baking with me.” He finally said something nice once in a while, you sorta appreciate it. “It’d be embarrassing when my parents FaceTime me and see you as bald as my great grandfather.” Nevermind, he’s still the same old jerk. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you’ll be moving out in two weeks, either way, right?” Your tone sounds sad and grim all of a sudden; it really dampens the atmosphere because Minho is now looking at you with concern laced in his brown eyes. “Look, I get that it’s bothersome to be my roommate so there’s no need to feel bad. I’ll be fine going back to my old life where my feet don’t get cold in the middle of the night because no one would be there to hog the blanket anymore.”

Minho feels the need to clear things up here. “I never said anything about moving out,” he grabs you by the shoulders and hopes you could just look at him when he’s being serious for once. “Y/N, who even said anything about moving out? Was it the landlord?”

“No,“ you say, still not willing to face him directly. You’re such a coward. 

“If so, why would I move out? Did I do something wrong? Did I piss you off or something?”

You’re trying so hard not to snap at this point. “No!”

“Then why can’t you just fucking look at me?!”

“You’re still drunk, let me buy you another—“

Minho shakes you forcefully, hoping to knock some common sense into that brain of yours. “For fuck’s sake, I’m not drunk!” he cries helplessly, not caring about the fact that he’s waking up every cat possible in the neighborhood. “Just- just look at me, will you?”

You stubbornly keep your eyes anywhere but him. “Why would I look at your stupid face?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Y/N. You’re not usually like this.”

Every single cell inside your body quivers simultaneously when he says so—good god, no, he’s testing you. Minho knows something’s off. Now to think about it again, you’d rather let him dirty your carpet than being put on trial like this.

“You wanna know why I’m acting like this? It’s because of you! You’re making me nervous! It’s your fault for making me feel this way!”

“What?” he blurts, eyes blinking numerous times in disbelief. “What did I ever do to you?”

“God, Minho, you can’t possibly be this dense. Tell me, that you’ve never, not even once, seen me turning beet red when you simply look at me in the eye. Or when you’re just sitting there, laughing your ass off about something stupid. It makes my heart flutter, okay? You make my heart flutter. Do you know how much of an effect you can have on me? You don’t go around juggling with others’ feelings like that,” your voice grows smaller and smaller towards the end until there’s nothing but an oddly comfortable silene floating midair. A sense of relief washes over you; you unknowingly exhale.

Minho stares at you in awe for a moment there, until he also speaks up for himself. “Maybe you should take your own advice,” he almost snickers, and this causes you to peel your gaze away from a random bush to gawk at his response. “You’re telling me to not go around juggling with others’ feelings? If anything, you’re the one who keeps messing with my heart. What am I supposed to do? Not get drunk so that I won’t be able to get away for doing dumb things?”

“What dumb things?”

“I don’t know, kiss you?”

“Fuck, you can’t get away with it this time now, can you?”

You’re already regretting this and there’s no turning back. Because when Minho subconsciously runs his tongue over his bottom lips, you’re already fighting the rouge spreading on your cheekbones. He shortens the distance between your heads until your lips are practically a breath away from his. Impatient, you grab a fistful of his shirt to smash your lips against his. Minho stays frozen for a nanosecond, taken aback by your boldness before pulling you closer by the waist. You’re hesitant at first, but he guides you through it, telling you that it’s okay by embracing you more tightly. Dear god, Minho’s kissing you and the world just falls away. It’s slow, comforting in ways that words can never be. He slackens his jaw to deepen the kiss, smiling into it when giddiness bubbles up inside his stomach. 

The world still feels like it’s spinning when he parts away, an alcoholic taste mixed with the green tea ghosts your lips, and your face grows ten times hotter. Even in this cracked darkness, Minho sees you blush hard and is fully aware that his cheeks are mirroring yours—he doesn’t even bother to convince himself that it’s from the alcohol, because it isn’t. 

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Minho questions though his breath is still a bit shaky from the kiss. He really didn’t lie when he said that he could never stop bothering you. 

You can’t help but smile at him brightly; this causes his heartbeat to spike inside his chest. “Well, do I have to?” He shakes his head and stares down at your hands until he musters up every strand of courage left to finally intertwine them with his own. Fits like a glove. 

“Come on, let’s go home,” he tells you softly, eyes crinkling into a pretty crescent moon shape. But you stop him right there when he attempts to stand up and wordlessly lean your forehead against his. Minho understands that you simply need a moment so you both hover right there, simply melting into each other’s touch. But what you say next just makes the ignited passion inside his heart flare-up. He’s at a loss for words, utterly speechless. 

“I am home.”

“Welcome home then, Y/N,” Minho whispers.

Everything feels like a dream that you’d never want to wake up from. His hands are clasped on either side of your face, resting just below the lobes of your ears. His thumbs gently caress your cheeks so that you won’t drift away, your breaths mingling. Never before has your own name made your heart flutter. But you guess it’s only because Minho said it. You do know that it’s not an afterthought, nor out of impulse. It’s a promise, for whatever’s coming your way on this path, he’s never gonna leave you behind. And the moment he feels that thing beating inside his chest is in sync with yours, he slowly leans in again.

Albert Einstein once said you can’t blame gravity for falling in love. And you have every right to argue with him in the afterlife because you’ve confirmed that Minho is your gravity. Gravity keeps you grounded, always get a hold of you so that you won’t ever have to wander off too far away. It’s there for you but it doesn’t have to act like it cares. Minho’s kinda like that too—he picked you up every time you said you’re good walking home, he only stocked up the stash of candies to secretly feed your midnight cravings. They only differ so much where his heartbeat for you is loud, undaunted and he loves you fearlessly; nothing shall meddle with his feelings for you as long as the way your eyes light up when they meet his doesn’t change. 

Before you met Minho, you didn’t know that it was possible to just look at someone and smile for no reason. The way his lips curl up when he smiles, his sarcastic remarks, his kindhearted nature though he’s awfully good at hiding it. That’s what people do when they’re in love, they say—to fawn over the littlest things but they’re what makes you fall so hard for him. But as time passes by, you’ve learned that it’s actually quite nice to be in love with someone. Because then, you get to spend your time and effort on their happiness as well, not just your own. In exchange, that person is capable of bringing colors to your dull world, tearing down your walls, and showing you just how beautiful life can be. Surely, Minho might not stay by your side forever in this crazy game of Monopoly but you’d risk it all for him even if the sky comes crashing and the universe turns upside down. 

After all, you can’t love alone. 

#stayshub #skzwritersclub #stray kids lee know #stray kids scenarios #lee know imagines #stray kids imagines #lee know scenarios #stray kids minho #minho roommate au #minho college au #lino fic #lee minho #lee know #college au #roommate au

[ibijau]

part 10 of the Nomad Nie AU // On AO3

Huaisang has a surprise for his husband, who tries to surprise him in return

It took nearly another week after Cunzhi’s little adventure before the Nie finally arrived at their winter camp. The entire time, Nie Huaisang stuck close to his husband, in case Lan Xichen had developed a taste for confronting wolves unarmed and needed to be stopped. Lan Xichen was both amused and touched by this, and didn’t complain. 

He thought that Khan Mingjue too seemed rather entertained by this turn of events, and acted perhaps a little less angry toward him these days. When they arrived at the winter camp, Lan Xichen was bossed around by the Khan just the same way as everyone else as they rebuilt the gers, and he was trusted with helping Huaisang and a few others check whether any of the animals had sustained wounds during the long journey. He also was a little warmer when the three of them retired for the night, and constantly teased him about the wolf. This greatly annoyed Huaisang, which seemed to be the aim, but Lan Xichen found he rather enjoyed the Khan’s dry humour. It reminded him of Lan Wangji.

When they reached the place they would spend the winter, it took very little time to set everything up, at least in Lan Xichen’s opinion. In less than a day, there was a whole village standing, looking exactly as if it had always been there. The herds were then separated, which led to a few small disputes here and there. The Khan ordered his brother and Zonghui to take care of those if they could. As for himself, Mingjue was only giving the horses a chance to rest a little, and then he would head with a few men toward the other camp, to make sure that everything was alright with them.

Mingjue left early the next morning, just as Lan Xichen was starting to wake up. He groggily bid his brother-in-law a safe trip, then decided it was really too early to be up yet and tried to pull Huaisang back under the covers with him to cuddle for a while. Huaisang indulged him at first, but before long he was escaping to eat something, saying he had a busy day ahead. He was clearly very proud of having been tasked with helping settle any disputes that might have arisen due to the migration, and refused to let his brother down when Mingjue was finally trusting him with something.

Any hope Lan Xichen might still have had about a quiet morning together was fully ruined when Meng Yao came to check on them. Huaisang and Lan Xichen were still having breakfast, but invited him to sit with them if he wished and share their meal. Lan Xichen was delighted to see his friend, as always. So was Huaisang, though he still left before long, eager for this chance to prove how very useful and mature he could be.

“We’ll chat later,” Nie Huaisang said in Hanyu, his accent much better than it used to be. “Keep my husband company, Menyao. Make sure he does nothing stupid. No more wolves for him!”

Meng Yao laughed, and promised to keep an eye on Lan Xichen. Satisfied with this, Huaisang dropped a quick kiss on his husband’s forehead and hopped out of the ger. Lan Xichen watched him go, unable to refrain a fond smile as he passed some cheese to Meng Yao.

“Do you think he minds that we are friends?” Meng Yao asked as he took the food.

Lan Xichen shot him a surprised look. “Of course not. Why would he?”

Meng Yao appeared to hesitate, the way he sometimes did when he feared he had some unpleasant information to share. He stalled a moment, nibbling on his piece of cheese, before diving in.

“These barbarians can be rather possessive,” he explained. “And I am right in guessing you are still refusing him his marital rights, are you not?”

Lan Xichen nodded and looked away, heat rushing to his face. It really wasn’t a matter of refusing anything at this point, and just that the occasion for it couldn’t be found. With Nie Mingjue gone for a few days, Lan Xichen was hoping they’d seize their chance at last… but of course he couldn’t have said that to Meng Yao, it was too private a matter.

“Huaisang is much sweeter than the others,” Meng Yao said, “but even he could get jealous. Lan gongzi should keep that in mind, and tell me if I create problems for him.” He sighed, his expression pained. “Lan gongzi is dear to me, but I will distance myself if it is needed. I do not want to provoke Huaisang into anger.”

Lan Xichen laughed awkwardly, and drank to hide his embarrassment.

“It’s fine, it’s quite fine,” he said. “Huaisang doesn’t mind at all. You’re his friend too, in spite of his brother.”

Meng Yao looked unconvinced. “These people will turn on their friends over anything. Even among brothers there is strife sometimes. If Huaisang weren’t so indolent, he would probably have been killed a long while ago, just so he wouldn’t pose a threat to the Khan’s power. Their grandfather killed his own father for power, it runs in their blood. So please, be careful, and tell me if I can ever do anything for you. You’re the only true friend I have, I don’t want for any harm to come to you.”

The story of Huaisang’s grandfather wasn’t unknown to Lan Xichen. Huaisang had told it to him, not without some pride, because the murdered father had been a cruel man who abused people and animals alike. Mingjue, who had been with them in the ger, had added that an unjust Khan could not be allowed to rule, and he would expect the same if he took a turn for the worse.

It had disturbed Lan Xichen at first, that anyone could talk so lightly of killing one’s father, one’s superior. In the end, he figured that perhaps the Nie too had a version of the Mandate of Heaven at play, and that Huaisang’s great-grandfather had lost heaven’s favour with his misconduct.

“I’m glad Meng gongzi feels this way,” Lan Xichen said. “I also see you as a true friend. If you had not been here to help me, I don’t know what I would have done. And I hope you know that I would be happy to help you as well, should you ever require it.” He hesitated a moment, then added: “For example if there might be a way to mend things between you and the Khan…”

Meng Yao failed to contain a slight grimace, and shook his head.

“No, the chance for that has passed,” he sighed. “He hates me too much now, and is too ready to blame me for everything that goes wrong in the clan. I’m sure he blames me for what happened with Cunzhi too, wouldn’t you say?”

Lan Xichen, quite awkwardly, didn’t know what to answer. 

It wasn’t that Meng Yao had caused that situation on purpose, of course. Still, Lan Xichen had become quite convinced that Cunzhi had escaped his mother’s care and hidden this way specifically because he had been so upset at losing Meng Yao’s company, and somehow hoped that making his displeasure obvious enough would allow him to get his way. It was likely that Khan Mingjue had come to the same conclusion, but was less kind with regards to Meng Yao’s intentions in that situation.

“Misunderstandings have happened in the past,” Lan Xichen said at last. “They can be corrected. I’m sure there must be ways to let the Khan see that you’ve never had ill intentions, only bad luck.”

“You think too kindly of the Khan,” Meng Yao scoffed.

And you think too ill of him, Lan Xichen thought with some disappointment. 

Khan Mingjue could be somewhat unreasonable when worrying for his brother, but even in his dislike he wasn’t unjust. He treated Meng Yao coldly and refused to deal with him more than necessary, but he didn’t go out of his way to be cruel to him, nor did he allow for him to be treated poorly by others. Aside from Huaisang, nobody was forbidden from associating with him. Lan Xichen was certain that if both parties had only made a small effort, they could have reconciled and returned to the friendship Huaisang told him used to exist between them. At first he’d thought all the efforts would have to come from the Khan, but he now saw that Meng Yao too would have to be a little more forgiving.

It would take time, Lan Xichen knew, and no small amount of work. 

“It’s fine anyway,” Meng Yao insisted, chewing on the last of his cheese. “I’m only biding my time until I can go home. I know someday my father will return for me, just as you must hope your family will do. When my father comes to get me back, it won’t matter much what the Khan thinks of me.”

The barely restrained fierceness in Meng Yao’s voice surprised Lan Xichen. His friend rarely spoke of his father, or indeed of anything about his life before joining the Nie. Lan Xichen was under the impression he had perhaps been less well treated in their home country than he was among nomads. From some of the things he said, Lan Xichen suspected that Meng Yao was either the child of a concubine or a servant who had been noticed for his intelligence and given an education, but never treated as truly part of the family. If so, it was unlikely that his father would ever bother to attempt to buy him back from the Nie, not the way Lan Xichen thought his own family might attempt once they’d built enough of a fortune with this new trade route opened to them.

It wouldn’t be for a few years at best, but Lan Xichen was unsure what he’d do if this happened. Of course he missed his home and family no less than Meng Yao did, yet he wouldn’t want to leave Huaisang behind. But it might be a pointless question anyway. Meng Yao might hope for his father’s return, Lan Qiren might attempt to buy back his nephew, but Khan Mingjue probably wouldn’t want to let anyone go who knew too much about his people.

Overtaken by a mild melancholy, Lan Xichen changed the topic and quickly finished eating so Meng Yao and him could go out and take care of their chores. Busy hands helped him empty his mind, though his mood remained a little off all morning. It was only when he returned to the ger for lunch that he started feeling better again, knowing he would see Huaisang.

Just as he had hoped, Lan Xichen found himself smiling happily as he entered the ger and started preparing for lunch. That smile only widened when Huaisang finally joined him, holding a bowl of dumplings in one hand, and carrying a dark wooden box under his other arm. The dumplings were carefully set aside, and the box presented to Lan Xichen.

“It’s for you!” Huaisang announced. “A gift for my husband.”

Lan Xichen glanced at the box, then at Huaisang’s excited face.

“Where did you get this?”

“I made a trade with old Xianjun,” Huaisang explained, handing the box to his husband. “Foals for three of his mares from my best racing stallion in spring, and he gave me this. It’s a Han thing, right?”

Inspecting the box more closely confirmed it was of Han origin. Its style had a southern flair to it, and Lan Xichen wondered how it had arrived so far north. It wasn’t a luxurious box, a little rough here and there, but still beautiful and made with obvious care by a competent artisan, and seeing this trace from home tugged at his heart. To distract himself from this renewed melancholy Lan Xichen opened the box while Huaisang peered curiously over his shoulder.

Lan Xichen gasped.

“Is it bad?” Huaisang asked, a note of worry in his voice.

“It’s very good,” Lan Xichen replied, sitting down to more comfortably admire his present. “Why did they have this?”

Huaisang chuckled nervously. “Old Xianjun followed my father on a raid against Han people when he was young,” he admitted. “He traded away many things, kept a few. Nobody wanted this and he found it pretty, so he kept it. What is it?”

“The four treasures of the study,” Lan Xichen said, only to be met with a blank look. “Ah, hm. It is used to write things, like in my books?”

Among Lan Xichen’s few possessions when he arrived with the Nie had been two books he’d taken with him. A caprice, his uncle had called it when they were getting to leave home, telling him he wouldn’t have any use for poetry, nor for that short history treaty he’d picked up some weeks earlier and never made time to study. A few months later and he knew those books by heart, as did Meng Yao who had nearly cried from joy upon being allowed to borrow them. As for Huaisang, he showed little interest in the books themselves, but enjoyed having the poetry read to him and explained, and he liked also the few printed illustrations.

“You can make a book with this?” Huaisang asked, looking doubtful.

“If I had something to say. I could also paint something,” Lan Xichen suggested, guessing that might amuse his husband more. The paper was of good enough quality that its age hadn’t made it too fragile, and the ink still seemed good at well. The inkstone was intact, its square shape simple but elegant. Only the pair of brushes wasn’t perfectly to Lan Xichen’s liking, since they were clearly made for writing rather than painting, but their quality was good, and his skill wasn’t high enough that the wrong tool would really hinder him.

“Paint something for me!” Huaisang predictably demanded, eyeing the box’s content with more interest now.

“Gladly. What should I paint?”

Huaisang barely hesitated. “Something you would miss if you went home.”

Hearing this, Lan Xichen’s smile faltered. It seemed he really couldn’t avoid thinking of home that day. At the same time, this had the advantage of being an easy request to fulfil, because there was only one thing he could think of painting after being asked this.

“I will do that. But it has to be a surprise. You can’t look at it until it’s done, Huaisang.”

“But I want to see how you do it!”

“After this, I teach you how to paint,” Lan Xichen offered. There were about three dozen sheets of paper in the box, which didn’t feel like much, but it would be enough. He’d just have to ask his family to bring him more next time he saw them. “This one will be a gift for you, so you can’t see.”

Huaisang went from pouting to grinning in an instant. Lan Xichen took a moment more to admire his own gift, then closed the box and asked his husband about his morning. They sat down and ate together, chatting about this and that, making plans for the rest of the day. When they were done with food, Lan Xichen took his box and started carefully preparing some paper and ink. Huaisang watched with fascination the process of grinding ink, asking questions about it that Lan Xichen answered as well as he could. Once he started actually painting, Huaisang was chased away to the other side of the ger where he worked for a while with leather.

Lan Xichen found it quite nice to be together like this, each of them occupied with their own work, occasionally trading a few words, but mostly silent and focused on what they were doing. He had never expected that it would be so comfortable to be in someone else’s company this way, least of all under such circumstances, but it made him glad once more than Huaisang and him had been brought together. Fate had really found him a perfect partner.

All too soon though, this moment of peace was interrupted. Someone came to ask Huaisang to help them with a dispute regarding cattle, and Lan Xichen had his own chores to attend. They both put away their work and went out, knowing they would meet again for dinner.

When afternoon reached its end, Xichen returned to the ger and found it empty. After tidying a bit, he took this chance and went back to working on his painting. It was no masterpiece, not when he had never received the education to create great works and hadn't touched a brush in months, but Lan Xichen was still happy enough with his work. He was putting the finishing touches when Huaisang returned, dusted with snow that had started falling, and carrying again some food. 

"Can I see soon?" Huaisang asked, staring toward the sheet of paper but keeping his distance, as he'd been asked. 

The painting wasn’t quite done, there were a few details to add, but Huaisang’s barely contained curiosity was too adorable. Lan Xichen motioned for his husband to come closer, which Huaisang immediately obeyed, rushing to his side and dropping on his knees right next to him.

“Here it is,” Lan Xichen announced, revealing the painting and handing it to Huaisang.

Just as he had hoped, Huaisang’s initially excited expression quickly turned to astonishment as he discovered that on the paper was a portrait of himself, painted as faithfully as Lan Xichen’s skill would allow. Huaisang’s face took on a very sweet pinkish hue that grew more intense the longer he gazed at the portrait, while his eyes shone with emotion.

“Something you would miss,” he mumbled, tearing his eyes from the painting to look at Lan Xichen. “Really?”

“Really,” Xichen said, putting away his brush in its proper place, telling himself he would clean it in a moment. First, though, he needed to kiss his husband. Huaisang, seeing him lean closer, hurriedly set aside the painting and threw his arms around Lan Xichen’s neck.

It wasn’t rare these days for the two of them to get passionate while kissing, and like many times before, Huaisang quickly ended up straddling Lan Xichen’s lap as he licked into his mouth, his hands wandering under the layers of his husband’s clothes. Usually that was the moment Mingjue would pick to come home and glare at them, but… 

But Mingjue wasn’t there at all this time, and at this time of day nobody would come looking for them. So Lan Xichen let himself fall back on the carpeted ground, and looked up at Huaisang, still straddling him.

Huaisang let out a strangled noise, but didn’t move. “Do you want…”

Lan Xichen quickly nodded. However much it had once terrified him to be wanted by Huaisang, he’d more than made his peace with it, his desire now matching his husband’s. There was no one else in the world he could imagine wanting as much as he wanted Huaisang, no one he would trust as much.

That nod was all the invitation Huaisang needed. He leaned down to kiss Lan Xichen with renewed passion, clumsily trying to untie his husband’s clothes while Lan Xichen did the same for him.

It was, to put it mildly, a fun night for both of them.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #jin guangyao #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #Nomad nie #jau writes

[donttouchmeimwriting]

Argo ch. 4

Friday the 13th - Friendship/Romance - Jason Voorhees/OC M/M ship

3326 words, 3rd person POV

Took a little bit of a breather so I don't burn out because this one is big! I'm going to have some mature content in future chapters btw so the rating will bump to 18+ for those. I will mark the chapters with that content appropriately so minors please do not interact with them!

Cross-posting on FFN under PyroTheWereCat

...

Some weeks passed and Jason and Lijah had gotten quite comfortable with their new routine. Jason had started to come by early every evening and leave before midnight every night, though Lijah still occasionally fell asleep while he was still there. Jason didn't mind these times. He took them as opportunities to watch Lijah without question or making him feel self conscious, as Jason rather liked the way Lijah looked and never grew tired of seeing his face. He still had sporadic thoughts of inappropriate things, but those showed up more now when he was alone and only thinking of Lijah.

The thoughts were troubling nonetheless, as Jason often found his mind wandering to daydreams of Lijah in the shower or how swallowed up by Jason's arms he would be if he held him. He even had thoughts of kissing Lijah, wondering just how soft those lips would feel. The images were innocent enough, but Jason still worried that he was sliding down a slippery slope by having them at all. He could hear Mother's voice in the back of his mind explaining how this was only the beginning. It would start with innocent curiosity and then, before he knew it, he would be consumed by lust and never be able to return home. The most troubling part about it all was that there was a frighteningly big part of him that didn't want the thoughts to stop.

In the silent moments that Lijah was asleep while Jason sat with him, Jason's strongest desires were to touch him. He didn't feel that these yearnings were particularly wrong in that he was only really interested in touching Lijah's hair and face, but he resisted out of concern for the progression of these urges as well as not wanting to wake Lijah. Still, the allure of his soft looking woody brown locks and even softer looking freckled skin called to him, inspiring a great many of his fantasies.

There was also the worry that Lijah would start to hate him like everyone else did. He was terrified that the instant he removed his mask, Lijah would never want to see him again. He could feasibly tolerate his presence now, but if their relationship progressed into something else, then what? Could Lijah stand to be with the monster who murdered so many people? The freak with a face so repugnant it instilled a murderous intent in others? Jason couldn't stand to think of betraying Lijah, but he also wished to find some kind of happiness for himself.

In the beginning, if Lijah fell asleep next to him, Jason would leave soon after to let him rest, but as their friendship went on, he would stay for at least an hour to enjoy the peacefulness of the arrangement. He would sometimes read one of Lijah's books, though usually he would sit and enjoy the calm atmosphere of existing in a safe location with a trusted friend. It was through these quiet nights that he learned Lijah was a sleep talker, and a relatively clear one at that. It had startled him the first time it happened; Jason thought that Lijah had woken up. He quickly understood that they were mumblings of a blissfully unaware Lijah, and soon came to enjoy listening to the odd phrases he would come up with while dreaming. A request to place a bag of fruit on a shoe rack, a denial of cream cheese spaghetti, occasional laughter...it was all somewhat funny to Jason until he heard his own name.

Lijah called out to Jason quite a few times in his sleep, increasing in frequency as time went on. The scenarios were often mundane - asking Jason to move from the hallway or how he was doing. Jason paid close attention any time these dreams occurred, curious about what Lijah was seeing. One instance, however, caught his attention like none of the others had before.

Lijah was sleeping curled up on his side, facing the wall. Jason was reading the final chapter of one of the adventure novels and the scene was coming to a thrilling climax. He heard Lijah murmur his name and turned to see if he was awake, as was the norm. Lijah's eyes were closed and he drooled slightly on the pillow, answering that question instantly. Jason returned to his book, but kept his ears focused on any further commentary.

"Don't go," Lijah whispered, his voice tinged with unmistakable sadness, "...want you...stay with me, Jase...please..."

His full attention now on Lijah, Jason's pulse quickened. He wasn't sure what to do to alleviate the distress Lijah was having in his dream. Eyes searching for a solution, Jason found himself fixed on a section of hair that had fallen across Lijah's face, hanging over his eyes and nose. Clenching his jaw muscles and praying he did not wake him, Jason reached out to push the hair off Lijah's face. He hesitated before touching him, beginning to panic, but then Lijah sighed his name again, his eyebrows furrowed with whatever upsetting images he was forced to see. Jason took a deep breath to steady his hand, then gently brushed the hair back.

Lijah's hair was even softer than Jason had previously imagined, like a young deer's fur. He couldn't resist running his fingers through to the ends, watching them slide effortlessly as if he were passing his hand through tall grass. Lijah's expression instantaneously relaxed as Jason combed his fingers through his hair, and he tentatively repeated the action. He stroked Lijah's hair several times like this, slowly, tenderly, fascinated by its soothing effect on him. Soon, Lijah had slipped back into a deep sleep, looking more comfortable than before.

Jason, on the other hand, could not be more energized. His touch was good for something other than bringing pain and death. He could be gentle and comforting. He had been uncertain before, but this proved it. He was capable of changing after all, not just in his mind.

He could not remain in the room for long after, his energy much too high to sit still or move quietly enough to not wake Lijah, so he left earlier than he wanted to. He spent this wild energy in the woods that night, hunting and trapping small animals to add to his own campsite's food stores. He felt deliciously alive in a way he was not used to.

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

Jason didn't tell Lijah about the nightmare. He worried that it might unnerve him that he stayed in the room while he slept, and Jason's top priority at the moment was keeping Lijah's favor. He had never really had crushes before, having no one around other than Mother, and could now somewhat understand that intense desire to be around the other person and ignore the world. Before now, he wasn't even sure that men could be attracted to each other. It was never in the stories Mother told him, and he had never seen it in his few ventures to the camp. He thought it must be extremely special, given that it was not as prevalent, and wondered why he hadn't heard of it before. Perhaps it was only heterosexual couples who were sinful and needed to be bound by marriage to erase that sin? He determined he would look into it later if it became an important question.

The desire to touch Lijah's hair again became much stronger after doing it once, however, and Jason resisted the urge each time he saw him. He could feel Lijah getting suspicious though, and didn't want to hide his feelings for much longer. What would Lijah think if he told him he liked him? He had told Jason he wasn't interested in dating anyone, and Jason was almost certain Lijah was only interested in a friendship with him. He wanted to at least tell him he wanted to explore a more sensual relationship, holding hands and hugging, perhaps, but he wasn't sure how to express that without seeming creepy. While he had no idea how romantic relationships worked, Jason had only the slightest inkling of how friendships worked, and didn't want to ruin this one by saying something weird.

One rainy evening, Lijah returned to the cabin with more energy than usual, claiming it was a slow day with the kids due to the weather, and he got to relax for most of it. This led to him excitedly showing Jason one of his favorite movies on VHS, setting up the living room with popcorn, extra blankets, and soda (though Jason politely declined the beverage and requested a water instead). Mother never showed Jason movies like this at home; he wasn't even sure they owned a VCR. When he was younger, they did have a TV and he would watch the occasional broadcasted movie, but once it broke, they never replaced it. As a result, he never cared much about catching up with popular media. There were chores to complete and plenty to do outside, so he'd never needed the extra entertainment. Still, it was nice to see Lijah get so worked up by watching the story on the screen, and Jason found it interesting as well.

The pair moved back to the bedroom once the movie was over, Jason having helped Lijah clean up the living room first, and Jason quietly read as Lijah did his bedtime routine. Jason had noticed he was growing rather smelly lately, more so than usual. He never cared much about hygiene - the smell didn't tend to bother him - and bathed infrequently with little water from creeks. Being around Lijah, who smelled so pleasant all the time, however, Jason was picking up on his own scent a little more, and found it potentially offensive. He remembered Lijah offering the shower to him, and contemplated using it at least a couple times a week so as not to offend his nice smelling friend who was surely not saying anything to avoid hurting his feelings. When Lijah returned from the bathroom, Jason wrote,

"can i use it to?"

"Use what?" Lijah asked, still toweling his hair dry, "The shower? Yeah, absolutely! There's plenty of soap in there and an extra towel. If you want, while you're in there, I can sneak over to laundry to wash your clothes for you too."

There it was. Jason grimaced. He was slightly embarrassed by offending Lijah, but grateful that he was being so casual about it. He nodded and awkwardly shuffled around Lijah to get to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, sighing deeply. He began undressing, becoming more uncomfortable feeling that his shirt stuck to his skin. How had he gone this long without noticing? He found the spare towel Lijah mentioned and wrapped it around his waist to cover himself before opening the door to pass his dirty clothes out to Lijah. Lijah took the pile, cheerful as always, and promised to be back soon. Jason was trying to avoid making eye contact, but he saw that Lijah's cheeks flushed when he was met with the sight of Jason in the towel. What could that have been about?

Enclosed in the bathroom once more, Jason dropped the towel next to his boots and removed his mask, placing it on the sink. This room was even smaller and more cramped than the other rooms in the cabin, leaving barely any space for his large frame to navigate. It was a simple setup of only the essentials: a toilet, a sink with a mirror over it, and a narrow shower stall. Jason stepped inside the stall and pulled the curtain behind him. The air still smelled of clean steam from Lijah's shower: a calming scent. Jason had some trouble figuring out the knobs, but managed to get the water running. The spray felt glorious on his skin, and he took a moment to bask in the warmth of the water. Certainly, this was a feeling he could live with a couple times a week.

Once he was done washing and rising the soap from his body, Jason turned the water off and stepped out, feeling almost brand new. He dried himself with the towel, but had not heard Lijah come back in yet. He put his mask back on and tentatively opened the door, keeping the towel tight on his waist. He peered out, but there was no sign of Lijah yet. The laundry room was probably in a different area of the camp, he considered, and it would take a little time for him to get back. Jason retrieved a book from the bedroom to occupy the time while he waited.

Lijah did return shortly after, bringing with him Jason's now clean clothes. He handed them off, blushing still, and left Jason to get dressed. What was getting him so flustered? Jason rejoined Lijah in the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

"How do you feel?" Lijah asked, fidgeting with the ends of his hair.

Jason nodded and gave a thumbs up gesture, admittedly feeling much better now that he was completely clean (and smelling almost as good as Lijah).

"Good! I've gotta say, though, that's some tough material. I wasn't sure the washer could handle it."

He touched Jason's arm as he spoke, feeling the fabric of his jacket. Jason stiffened, caught off guard by Lijah's touch. Lijah immediately retracted his hand, his eyes worried.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "Was that wrong?"

Jason thought a moment, but then felt the strong yearning he'd had before to touch Lijah and run his fingers through that soft hair again. He shook his head, but felt a sudden, unexplainable distress that shortened his breaths. He reached for Lijah, who did not flinch or move away, and wrapped his fingers around his slim upper arm. Lijah's skin was so soft, so compliant to his touch...Jason released a shuddering sigh at how nice it felt. Lijah touched his arm again, running his hand up to Jason's shoulder.

"Wow, you're super touch starved, aren't you?" he said, giving Jason's shoulder a squeeze. Jason had never heard of the expression, but it made sense to him. Wanting to feel Lijah ached like a hunger, and being touched by him satisfied that hunger. He nodded, rubbing Lijah's arm as gently as he could, but still pushing him slightly from sheer size difference.

"Can I hug you?" Lijah asked, "I think that'll help the most."

Jason nodded, a little too exuberantly, and Lijah pulled away from him to hop off the bed. He faced Jason, his expression unreadable, then climbed up onto Jason's lap, straddling his thighs, and pulled him into his arms. Jason gave a small grunt of surprise, but melted into Lijah's embrace, clutching him tightly. The feeling was indescribably soothing and overwhelming at the same time, sending tingles throughout his body. How was it that Lijah always knew what he needed?

It was undeniable at this point that Jason loved Lijah. He loved everything about him. He loved the feeling of Lijah's breath against his neck. He loved that he was so small and delicate compared to Jason, and he loved holding him close. His scent was all Jason could perceive outside of the embrace and the sound of rain tapping on the roof of the cabin, that light, clean scent he could never get enough of. This moment was perfection to Jason. The only thing that could make it even better was...no, he shouldn't wish for such indecent things, especially not when this felt so wonderful. He also knew that there was a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. He wasn't sure how to tell the difference, but assumed he would know if it happened. So far, he knew he loved Lijah, but didn't think he was in love with him (yet).

Lijah pulled back slightly to be able to look at Jason. His face was placid and reflected the happiness Jason felt.

"You've got some big, strong arms," he said, rubbing Jason's upper arms as he spoke, "I bet you're a fantastic cuddler."

Jason shrugged. He would not know, but from the way Lijah said it, he would like to find out.

"Gosh, you're cute," Lijah mumbled, "You don't even know how worked up you get me, do you? I'll give you a hint...I can't get that image of you in that towel out of my head and I don't want to."

He ghosted his fingertips over Jason's mask, his eyes lowered to where Jason's mouth would be under it.

"Is it all right if I take this off?" he whispered, "I would really like to kiss you right now."

The thought of kissing Lijah made Jason's heart flutter, but he did not want to frighten him with the face that earned him so much hatred as a child. There was also the matter of what his mother would think, with Lijah's bottom so dangerously close to his most private area, tempting him with physical pleasures. Would she be upset? Or would she not mind as much, given it would only be a kiss? At this point, it was not a question of whether or not Jason wanted it, but rather should he give in to what he wanted and disrespect his mother's wishes?

Pulse racing as he began to run out of time for an answer, Jason forced himself to make a decision. It would just be a kiss, right? There was no need to overthink. Definitely no need to read too far into what he said about the towel...He lifted his hands and slowly pushed the mask up to just under his nose. He could no longer see Lijah like this, but he didn't need to.

Lijah did not hesitate to close the space between them. He didn't kiss the way Jason had seen others before. This wasn't sloppy or aggressive...it was soft and warm and sent tingles throughout Jason's entire body...it felt nice. He slid his hands up Lijah's back as he dissolved into the kiss, an intense blush creeping into his cheeks. Lijah in turn pressed his hands to the sides of Jason's neck, holding him just as close. The slight movement of their lips together felt so incredible....Jason almost forgot that this was supposed to be wrong. He curled his fingers into Lijah's t-shirt and sighed softly as their lips parted. He didn't want this to end.

Lijah pulled back, Jason leaning forward as he went, not yet ready to stop. Lijah laughed, that beautiful, musical laugh that made Jason feel wonderfully weak, and playfully pushed his face away.

"Give me some air, big guy!" Lijah giggled, "Believe me, I want more too."

Jason pulled his mask back down so he could see his breathless partner. Lijah's face was flushed and he smiled serenely at Jason, resting his forearms on Jason's broad shoulders. Jason couldn't help but to smile himself. Was this how normal people felt all the time? Was this what it felt like to be attractive and wanted? But then again...Lijah felt this way about him as he was. He was attractive to him.

Jason thrust Lijah to his chest, hugging him tightly.

"Whoa!" Lijah cried out, startled by the sudden movement, "Easy there! You okay, Jase?"

Jason nodded into Lijah's shoulder, giving his body a brief squeeze. Lijah grunted softly and gave another short laugh.

"Remember how small I am," he said, returning the hug, "I don't mind getting a little manhandled but don't break me."

Jason couldn't fathom breaking Lijah. He wanted to keep him and protect him from the everything. The little kisses Lijah planted along Jason's neck were more valuable than any luxury he could imagine and touching their foreheads together fulfilled him more than any prior achievement he'd made. He was in bliss, and that bliss was named Lijah.

#friday the 13th fanfiction #canon/oc #friday the 13th #jason voorhees #slashers #slasher fanfiction #argo fic

[hwallout]

quatervois - ljy

summary: “Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

words: 21,7k (this was 38 pages on word im,,,i birthed a monster im so sorry)

genre: assassin!juyeon, assassin!reader, angst, drama, fluff, crack if u use a microscope

warnings: (not explicit) violence, murder, language

early an: holy shit it’s here

The way you got introduced and became a part of such a job wasn’t exactly how one would imagine.

Becoming an assassin hasn’t been a direct wish of yours. As expected, in the beginning, this exact possibility had never crossed your mind. Growing up in an ordinary, middle-class household, it was expected of you to follow the footsteps of many. Never the smartest kid in class, but with a knack for logic and solving thought experiments, you’ve imagined becoming a philosopher of some type. Nothing too spectacular, but interesting enough and different than a usual 9-5 job.

So then, how exactly have you come to holding a knife against a random man’s throat almost daily?

Of course, while young, a person is prone to the effect of the outside world and people surrounding them. Some pupils are lucky enough to live in the best surroundings and are given amazing opportunities; therefore, they grow up into kind, successful people. Then, there are those who thanks to certain circumstances end up walking a different path, all of them hoping for the best possible outcome.

In today’s society, the importance of money was huge. It was expected that every family, containing at least one adult person, was able to deal with constant fluctuation of cash and sudden, unanticipated expenses. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case in many households and those kids had to experience helpless life without enough money, while their parents fought for every coin.

It was incredibly unfortunate that it affected you as well, even so in the worst possible moment – right before university.  

Thanks to stupid reasons that could’ve easily been prevented, your family fell into dept, causing both of your parents to find second jobs. Not having enough money to continue with a rather expensive education, you felt obliged to find a job.

And of course, being so young and ambitious, but mostly misfortune driven, you thought that the future of the household was in your hands. It was a must to find something that pays good, fast.

Consequently, the first night was spent scrolling down the endless pages of Google. You searched for something that didn’t require any special education (because of obvious reasons), but would generously help your situation. Seconds extended into minutes, those into hours, days even. Finding a good job with no degree was pretty hard, yet what else could’ve you expected?  

The issue had you visiting most irrelevant sites, clicking on shady ads (and installing a thousand viruses, probably), asking strangers in online chatrooms. Lost and unexperienced, you struggled and almost accepted the proposal of being a stripper in a famous strip club downtown.  

Almost.  

The job you were suddenly introduced to was something seen in movies and video games only. For whichever reason, it appeared in a dream one night. The dream had you play the main character, dressed in all black, doing all the terrifying, dirty work with random weapons, but being paid a huge sum afterwards. It was scandalous enough to have you hesitating for a little while upon waking up, disgusted at the thought of doing it.

Still, remembering the money filled suitcase, you’ve overcome the initial revulsion fast. Unexpectedly intrigued by the idea, you thought a little research couldn’t hurt anyone. Finding a reliable site that offered information on paid assassins only took a couple of minutes. The author of the article was an ex-FBI agent, therefore you thought there couldn’t be data more reliable than this. Upon a quick look, you’ve come to the conclusion that the study was most definitely written with intent of educating people on this topic, rather than motivating them to apply for it. Oh well.

From an objective point of view, it was exactly what you were looking for. It didn’t require any special degree from any university and it paid horrendously well, with small variations on the amount due to different employers. Reading further though, you realized that not just anyone can become an assassin, or hitman, as people liked to call it.

It demanded years of training, hard work and terrifying change. The author described it as “...complete mutation of one’s mind and personality, utter desensitization to almost everything. Those people become machines...”. You didn’t doubt their words, on the contrary, you believed them completely. It was only logical that a person has to get used to blood, extreme violence, emotionless murder, which were no ordinary or acceptable sights and actions. Of course, you were in denial, about to laugh at yourself for even reading the article seriously.

But then your eyes landed on the pay again. The numbers were huge. It would definitely help. Your family needed this. Sacrifices had to be made.

The next day, you bought a burner phone with the last bits of your savings. Entering an empty alley, you immediately dialed a phone number you’ve found at 3am. You didn’t know what was the worst that could happen, seeing as you were dialing a shady number from a shady website with shady intentions. Maybe the phone would blow up – in which case thankfully, it was a burner. But that then meant you wasted money with no reason.  

Thankfully, the other side picked up and scheduled a meeting for the next day.

Everything about it was suspicious, from the first to the last moment. From the first meeting with a tall, fat man, wearing an expensive suit and a shiny Rolex on his wrist, to the moment that exact man patted you on the back for good luck on your first mission.

The training was all you’ve expected and more. Tears, sweat and especially blood were shed during that tough period. You were put through complete torture – whether it be emotional or physical. In the beginning, they had you watch videos containing mild abuse of random people, only to progress to horrible violence as time passed by. In times where you wanted to look away, a stern and strong man would yell at you, ordering to stay focused on the task – one that would make you used and nonchalant to seeing such monstrosities.

You were trained to take words, threats and even hits with a straight face, only to return ten times harder. Sometimes you thought that self-defense classes you were offered but never took in the past, would’ve definitely helped with the current situation. Simple pistols were immediately introduced to you, strange looking men always pressuring you into improving the mediocre aim. More complicated guns and snipers were thrown in your direction upon noticeable improvement.

Surprisingly, they began “paying” you from the start. The big boss said it was because he noticed your potential and incredibly fast progress, therefore used the money as constant motivation for further improvement. Unfortunately, the trainees you’ve encountered weren’t so positive about it, saying it was the boss’ way of making sure no one ditches out once they enter (“you’ll have to pay the complete sum back, he basically indebted you”). The money you received wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely a good starting position.

In a relatively short period of time, a huge change happened. You’ve transformed from someone whose eyes watered at harsh words, body flinched at sudden movement and hands shook while holding a knife, to a person who had no trouble taking a hit to the face, only to counterattack by slitting throats.

Your knack for logic and solving thought experiments and predicting outcomes came in handy, for they’ve worked on further developing that as well. They created a thousand puzzles, testing possible situations (“you have to run away, which route do you take?", "two witnesses saw you; how do you deal with them without anyone else noticing?”), always questioning your answers (“but then wouldn’t that make you more exposed?”, “what if suddenly your target chose to change their usual route?”) and having you argument them thoroughly.

You were trained to notice even the smallest of similarities between two situations, perceive possible danger/risks, predict where a target would appear next based on their recent roundabouts and analyze certain types of behavior. Basically, they tried recreating situations that would slowly introduce you to the harder part of your future job – the planning, unnoticed execution and escape from the crime scene.

The boss had personally hired personnel to train your selective attention. Everything a normal person would pass by and dismiss, you’d notice. The unusual movement of leaves in the corner of your eyes, a black bird in a flock of dark grey ones, the inconsiderable change in a person’s demeanor, a reoccurring but overlooked detail in everyday situations.

Friends weren't particularly made in such a setting; therefore, like many others, you've been alone through it all. Evidently, you've noticed other people around, mostly teenagers who were just introduced to the whole thing – yet never really bothered or had enough time to go and meet them. Everybody was just as scared and hesitant as you were when it all started. In the end, who knew who you'd have to fight against in the future. “Save yourself a heartbreak”.

Interestingly enough though, there was a boy who caught your eye. You weren’t sure when he was recruited, for he never seemed lost or inexperienced. The boy would walk confidently around the training site, shoot exceedingly well at the shooting range and progress through his endurance training perfectly.

Silently, you watched and admired the handsome boy with attentive eyes. Everything about him was as captivating as ever, further piquing your interest with every passing day. His form and skill were envious, while his mature behavior and breathtaking looks stole your breath away.

Eventually though, the boy disappeared.

Your parents were a sensitive topic. At first, they were told the job you found didn't have fixed hours, which sounded like the only logical explanation for why you never came home at the same time.

When the training became more serious and the changes in your personality and looks became obvious, you stopped seeing them. The place of stay was a motel a couple of miles away from the training site (or the supposed store you lied working at). Despite their constant messages and phone calls, pleads to come back home and stop “overworking” yourself, you stood your ground. The money you were paid was still linked back to them, and after a while you were informed that the debt was no more.  

Unfortunately, though, you've come to the point where you didn't want to back out from this horrendous job. And a couple months later, the boss forced you to cut contact with your parents.

Maybe it was for the better, because it wasn't possible to predict if they'd even recognize you. Their daughter built muscle, had a scarred body and went through a drastic change of personality. The desensitization did wonders to young minds. It came to the point where you were able to firstly watch and then execute a certain violent act (on a specialized, human-like doll), without having to look away. The two elders definitely wouldn't want such a person in their household.  

Although there really should've been, there was no shame or regret once the trainee period was finished and your feet set out on the first ever mission and first real kill.

Fast forward a few years after the first mission, and you were considered a high valued assassin.  

There really was no proper reason, but the flow of the river happened to direct you towards the more infamous customers. Drug dealers, wanted criminals, corrupted politicians, all sorts of people involved with illegality hired you. Over time, you've gotten used to it. Already familiarized with customers, type of targets and forms of execution, switching to work for a different type of people simply stopped crossing your mind.

Your prices weren't low at all. Actually, they were one of the highest for the job, yet with a great reason. Despite the victim count passing hundred, there hasn't been a single case that was ever (properly) solved, the employers always getting away with their work. Not even once have you been suspected or connected to any of the assassinations either, and it was all thanks to your tactics.

One could argue that there weren’t many ways a person could be murdered, but you managed to prove such a statement wrong. Not a lot of executions you've done followed the same path – which only showed how creative but also knowledgeable your mind was.

Because of one simple hair strand, whose color faded a long time ago, they called you Red. The nickname stuck with you ever since those torturous, trainee days, and nowadays, it helped avoid using your real name. You doubted anyone even knew what it was.

An interesting period began during your sixth year. Numerous politicians, usually the ones that heavily opposed the new government, would be found dead around the city. Not just them, but gang and mafia leaders who became too powerful and prominent in the public eye as well – many of those who hired you in the past.

Much like always, this government experienced the lack of trust and satisfaction from citizens. Rightfully so though, the public demanded change after supposed rigged elections, finally having enough of the fake democracy. Heavy and frequent protests blew up the nation, huge crowds of people led by a few brave individuals. Unfortunately, though, a few weeks in, the leaders of those would be found dead after announcing the protest scheme.

The terrifying amount of sudden assassinations were never solved or explained. At least to the public. The huge leap in numbers shouldn’t have been thrown under the mat so easily, yet it just happened. People began living in anger and fear. All the officials had to say about it was a simple “we're looking into it, but it’s not our main priority”, words that only intensified the rage felt by the citizens. That topic would always be dismissed with the same exact answer, occasionally adding that those assassinated already had “worrisome and problematic backgrounds”.

“It was only a matter of time when something as tragic as death would happen to them”

The situations greatly benefitted them; they wouldn't make an effort to explain whatever happened even if they weren't involved. All of those people worked against them, one way or another anyway. Still, the murders weren't spontaneous, and just like many others, you caught onto their sly play.

For a little while, you tried getting some insight and information on the cases. Your intentions weren’t to solve them and serve justice, but rather find whoever was the one hired by the government. It was pure curiosity to know who was the infamous colleague.

The information given to the public (obviously) wasn't much, and you were left connecting all the different cases using simple wide shots and shitty descriptions. The best source of information appeared to be freelancing journalists, who published the most details. Unsurprisingly though, those weren't enough for a proper open case either, for someone evidently prohibited them from posting more.

One thing that had you frowning was the fact that everything was way too clean, perfect and similar to your own way of work.

Closing the laptop after reading yet another empty article, you looked around the dark room. Sighing out in frustration and cracking fingers one by one, you wondered if you're supposed to consider those people your actual colleagues or rather enemies.

The clock ticked eleven and fifteen; just forty-five minutes before midnight. The atmosphere in the tiny apartment was calm, no sound other than your quiet breathing heard. Darkness filling your bedroom was only interrupted by the big moon that greeted you through an open window. Yet, much like any other Friday, the outside world seemed to be bustling with life, getting ready for what's yet to come.  

Standing up, you stretched fast and walked towards the entrance door. Picking up a black coat from the hanger, keys and phone from the little table next to it, you headed outside. Tomorrow was yet another mission, this time a man by the name of Lee Baekgon. The reason was usual, another member of a gang who had involved himself with the government, becoming an unfortunate mole.  

Thanks to the extensive week-long watch and study you've done on the man you had gotten used to his ethics and everyday habits. The experience you had and the surprisingly uninteresting and bland life of Lee Baekgon allowed you to do so in such little time – which always brought more money. The faster the execution is, the more expensive it is, and of course, you cared about the amount in your pocket.

Now, having everything planned out and prepared, you went out for a relaxing walk – as per usual on the night before. The streets were filled with people, hurrying in all directions, either coming back from their late shifts or going out with their friends.

Setting a regular pace, you camouflaged into the crowd and breathed in heavily. Colorful lights from nearby stores lit up the street in a thousand shades, creating a unique palette out of the usually dull path. Your eyes skimmed over people, not really staying locked on anyone's head or scalp. All of them were plain shapes to you, only looking similar to those who you've had the job of executing. Either way, it was pleasurable to hear the overall sound of people. The voices, laughs, gasps.

Suddenly and surprisingly, as if trained, your eyes locked onto a tall, lean, dark blue haired man walking in the opposite direction. It could’ve been because of his height or hair, but he stuck out of the dense crowd like a sore thumb. The stranger wasn't looking at you, rather ahead of himself, but you immediately scanned his profile. An unfamiliar feeling spread through your body, sending shivers down your spine.

The man carried himself with a certain kind of confidence, his steps calm and collected. He held his head high, looking forward as if staring at an invisible dot, walking towards an unknown destination. His eyes, although dark and hooded, were sharp and focused. The nose bridge of his created a slight shadow over the side of his handsome face.

Unexpectedly, as if sensing your eyes, the man looked back for a short second. Immediately, a familiar image of a teenage boy who exceeded in all training fields flashed before your eyes. Alas, before you knew it the man was taking a sharp turn and straying away from view.

The organ inside of your chest performed one incredibly hard beat, before going back to normal. Someone bumped your shoulder, apologizing right away and breaking the short-lived daze. For another moment, you stood motionless, looking in the direction of the other, the blue strands now long gone.

Shaking your head quickly and picking the pace up again, you tried processing what has just happened.

You'd see the man quite often after laying eyes on him for the first time. He even had a nickname. Blue.

Blue's fashion was quite predictable now, for the man seemed not to prefer colorful clothes. During the day, his wardrobe consisted of simple t-shirts, black jeans and occasional black leather jacket. One thing that changed almost daily though, was the bag that he'd carry. Nonetheless, Blue would always walk as nonchalantly and confidently as ever.

Each time you'd encounter him, the man would remind you of that certain boy. Weirdly enough, Blue never once looked back, no matter how many times or how close you'd pass by. No matter what though, you'd notice the same pair of sharp eyes peeking through thick blue bangs – a feature you very well remember.

The second thing that would have anyone's interest piqued, was that you'd see the man at the shooting field as well. On the days when you decided on visiting and practicing your (already impressive) aim, he would already be there. You'd watch from afar, the last couple of shots he'd take before turning around to leave. The male never once stayed any longer. Blue wouldn't even check on his hits - he'd shoot thrice and leave immediately.

A thing that many would fail to notice, would be the fast movement of his arms as he pushed the gun back into his rucksack.

Over time, you've realized that the number of encounters with Blue was too great for a stranger. The possibility of it not being an accident started bugging you. Eventually, it became worrying.

In the dead time of the night, while walking through forgotten alleyways no one really passes through, you'd see him. On rainy nights, while everyone else ran or hid away as to not get soaked, Blue would walk calmly.  

And maybe he had always been there, yet you simply never cared or gave it enough attention up until recently. Or maybe, it was something more serious.

His sight would often be locked onto his feet, hands shoved deep into jean pockets. During the night, Blue would wear all black, a mask and hood frequently covering up his face, yet the dark blue strands never failed to peek out. He'd also wear the same black worn out backpack, the one he never brought out in the daylight.

Although you've met and dealt with many different kinds of people, never once had someone managed to make you feel so curious but anxious at the same time. Neither of those feelings felt good.

Despite your initial pleasant surprise, Blue became someone who you disliked pretty fast. It bugged you how the two worlds happened to overlap at the most unconventional of times. Whether it was when you were spying on someone, following them or coming back to the base with blood on your hands, the man would make his appearance. You suddenly felt as if this stranger had a whole insight of your life and knew all of your secrets. As if he was aware of your job and worked as a spy whose target was you.

Feeling apprehensive was something you never expected to experience, especially while out of work. For the first time ever though, you thought about executing someone who you weren't ordered to take out.  

Thanks to instances such as those stated earlier, you've developed a side mission over time. As if in you were in a game and suddenly had to unlock another small part of the main story to progress. There was an undying need to find out if your suspicions were correct and what exactly was so off-putting, upsetting about this man (who seemingly did no real harm to you). And of course, if there was a way to fix it before jumping to the last, desperate solution.

Truthfully, you never got any thrill from the pure act of execution. Taking someone's life was as emotional as raw poetry, but those emotions were never felt by the heart, much less the brain. Sometimes you wondered what your thoughts on everything would've been if you hadn't changed so much.

Taking another deep breath, you grit your teeth and backed the scared man against a wall. With a knife held close to his Adam's apple, the man gulped and winced for the last time. Fat beads of sweat raced each other against his neck. There was no remorse for the other – neither him or the rest of his happy family.

You didn't hear the pleads and wishes of the victim, as the cotton gag filling his mouth prevented any noise from escaping. The thin blade sliced through skin and flesh in a delicate manner, effectively damaging his windpipe. The man gasped for air, but only coughed back blood. White cotton soon changed color. Watching the white material turning red didn't make you feel any different, just like the eyes of the man who struggled in pure agony.

Only when it looked like the blood was about to create a puddle on the ground, did you remove the cotton. The other gasped two, three more times, too exhausted and lightheaded to take any action. With much force, you pulled the body towards an open manhole and dumped it inside, listening to the way it heavily fell into the water.

That's what drug debt does to you.

Closing the manhole up, you stuffed the bloody cotton inside your coat and hid the knife inside of your boot. Taking off black gloves and mask, you pushed them beside the cotton and walked in the opposing direction than the one you came from.

The connected alleyways seemed to go on forever, but they were no unfamiliar place to you. To say that you used them often wasn't a lie, but there was rarely anyone else doing the same. Light steps echoed shortly; the fog that unusually filled the tight space became thicker as you delved deeper. Suddenly, there was yet another echo coming from the other direction. The person was seemingly walking towards you. Unconsciously, you prepared to reach down for the knife.

Through the fog you could faintly make out a silhouette of a man approaching. Every step you took allowed a clearer view of the other, and eventually the full sight of his figure. With an exaggerated eye roll and in pure disbelief, you silently cursed your absolute luck. It once again proved to be just who you expected.  

Blue walked with hurried steps, something you haven't seen before. Upon coming close enough to you, he looked up from the ground, pace slowing down and eyes meeting for the first time in a long while. Time seemed to slow down as well for both, one short moment extending to unexpected lengths.  

Both were dressed in similar, dark attire, carrying a fake expression of innocence. Yet, the moment their irises met, a certain feeling spread throughout their bodies, as if they quietly confirmed it wasn't a coincidence that they met here at this time.  

No words were exchanged, the moment finally ending as you passed by each other. There was a strong urge to look back after the other, but an inner voice whispered quietly, saying it was smarter not to do so. Not even when the man's steps promptly stopped echoing and you felt eyes on your back.  

A couple of steps later, you picked up on a sudden, but barely noticeable smell of human blood. For a moment, you were tricked into thinking it was the cotton or knife that were stuffed inside your coat. Still, the closer you got to a certain container leaning against a building wall, you realized it couldn't be it.

Once a foot away from the huge object, you stopped. The smell wasn't at all strong, but still noticeable enough. You didn’t want to interfere with whatever took place, but it didn’t take long to realize someone laid dead in there. In the end, it was the smell you were surrounded with pretty much daily.

Dots were beginning to connect slowly, but you were once again forced into moving. The feeling of being watched was making you feel uneasy, but this time you were tempted enough to turn around.  

There was no one standing where you expected them to. He was gone.

Sighing out loud, you turned around, took a quick left and finally walked out of the alleyway. There were almost no people on the streets, and the weird feeling was finally gone. The walk back to the base was just enough time to analyze all the different possibilities that unexpectedly plagued your mind.

It shouldn’t have surprised you that it happened so soon.  

A few rather peaceful days have passed since your last encounter with him. Time seemingly fled by, but unlike many other, these days were calm. The missions have come to a stale; therefore, you effectively used your free time to do chores and visit the market. In the end, the fridge wouldn't fill itself up.

The thin paper bag swung side to side as you walked. Cans and bottles made an unrecognizable but even melody as they clashed against each other. Lost in thought, you aimlessly walked forwards, enjoying the cool gust of wind hitting your face.  

But then, in the corner of an eye, you picked up on a man running towards you.

He was in his forties, a body of short, strong and somewhat fat build covered by a formal, grey suit. There was little to no hair in the middle of his head, while two thick patches spread on the sides. He wore a panicked expression, eyebrows furrowed and eyes all but screaming for help. It took him only a few seconds to reach you.

“Miss?” The man panted, immediately bending down to place his hands on his shaking knees. “Miss, I beg for your help”.

Glancing at his face again, you recognized the other as Mr. White - a man who has been barking against the government quite a lot recently. The propaganda he preached was slowly but surely gaining more supporters, and it suddenly clicked for you. This little rat probably had a sudden reason to feel unsafe and afraid of experiencing the same end as many others. What a shame he was brave only on the TV.

For a moment, you were hesitant, unsure if accepting to help was a right thing to do. Especially when such a person was in question. You waited a minute, while the other gathered his thoughts and managed to form coherent words. He must’ve sensed your reluctance, for not another second was wasted before he began explaining.

“I’m sorry, I feel exposed and like I’m being followed and...” Mr. White went on, blabbering something you only hummed along to, while scanning the surroundings. The park he came from wasn’t that crowded, unlike the last time you’ve passed by. There were only a few families playing with their kids and people walking their dogs.  

Nothing out of the ordinary, yet a certain man walking a tall Doberman managed to have you interested.

“...that hooded man...”

Lips moving to form a smirk, you almost patted yourself on the back for suspecting the right person. The stranger was rather tall, wearing black fitting jeans and an oversized cherry red hoodie. Despite it being warm outside, a big hood was pulled over his head, and his face was somewhat covered by a cap he wore underneath. A strong hand gripped the chain leash that held a dauntingly big, black Doberman on a trained distance, walking in a calm pace. The dog was huge, with ears pointed up and forwards, steps elegant but threatening. One could swear that it could rip a man’s head off with one bite.

“Why didn’t you take a taxi?” You asked back, cutting off the current ongoing speech.

“I tried... I tried calling for one but... none... none stopped, please help me... stay with me, wait with me” He practically begged, knees bent and hands pressing together as if praying. Passerby watched the scene unfold with surprised expressions, some even mocking the way the male behaved. Frowning at the current situation, you pulled the man up by his bicep, not in the mood for any unnecessary drama. He looked way too pathetic.  

Nodding as a reply, you started walking towards the pedestrian crossing not so far away. On the other side, at the designated spot, you’d be able to call for a taxi.

The whole time, you ordered Mr. White to walk in front - as if your smaller form would be any coverage for him. Despite not being strong, the wind was still powerful enough to carry the quiet echo of footsteps behind you. The person walked with the same pace, keeping suspicious distance.

Once at the traffic light, you stopped. The panicked politician didn’t dare move, his limbs stiff and frozen like a paused frame. At the given moment, you weren’t sure if the man was even breathing – his chest wasn’t at all moving. Unfortunately, the wait for the light to turn green was quite long. The steps that used to echo behind you came to a halt as the suspicious man finally caught up. It was then that you turned around to look at him – eyes meeting with a pair that held no emotion inside of them.

Blue looked even more handsome up close and in broad daylight. With fierce eyes and dominant aura, he seemed quite intimidating. While his facial features now resembled a grown man, they once again reminded you of that certain young boy. It was a sudden flash of clear memory, something you’ve only experienced while crossing paths the blue haired man.

Blue attentively caught onto your interested gaze, for his eyebrow rose and lips formed a smirk. Slowly, as if you were supposed to notice, he glanced behind at the motionless politician and then back at you, this time with a wider smirk. Such a bold move.

And of course, it shouldn’t have surprised you that it was him. Coincidence no more; your doubts were crumbling down like a house of cards thanks to the sudden stimuli.

The black dog watched you like prey, hungry eyes tracking every move. Thankfully, it was properly held in its place by the stronger man.

As soon as the light turned green, Blue took off, not sparing any more attention to neither of the two. The Doberman trailed in suit, walking graciously beside its owner, following the exact pace. You let him a few steps ahead, before crossing the street with Mr. White who seemed more relaxed now.

Paying the last bit of attention to the young man, your eyes unconsciously trailed down his leg. Immediately, you noticed the outline of a certain object that strained against the material of his fitting jeans. With a quick analysis, you recognized the weird shape – it was a knife.

That was it; exactly all the additional information you needed. The young boy grew up to be someone you now worked against.

Work, work, work. That’s all your mind was filled with for the past few weeks, and with a good reason. Being an undiscovered assassin often demanded immense amounts of creativity (which really proved to be hard when unmotivated) to avoid similarities between cases. Sometimes, you even had to choose the riskier and more public approach, much like today.

The current mission demanded a month-long preparation and as crazy as it might sound, obtaining explosive was the easiest part of it. You were lucky to have a couple of acquaintances who somehow had the exact stuff you needed, and at a great price as well.

For exactly four weeks, you’ve watched over a certain man, a tall, strong and well-known drug dealer called K. Besides actively selling all sorts of opium and illegal substances, the man led a powerful gang named The Vipers. You’ve never been hired by that gang, but you’ve heard a lot about them through numerous connections and accidental eavesdropping. Sometimes, you thought that assassins were the biggest threat to their employers, thanks to the amount of insider knowledge they pick up on over time.

The Vipers heavily depended on their leaders, brothers K and B. The older sibling, K, as the stronger leader, took most control over their big bites, while B did the other, sporadic and less serious work. Still, they cooperated perfectly, working in sync to create a big, illegal underground market, that the government never spoke about.

Unfortunately, they got themselves into a big fuss with another powerful gang, Weiro, the details never once directly explained to you. There were a couple of things that you could’ve suspected went down, but really, it wasn’t your job and interest. Anyhow, Weiro employed you, with a strict order to kill K in an extravagant way that will have his gang warned properly. Their request had your eyes rolling back; music wishes were never a favorite.

For a whole month, you studied the man, all of his whereabouts and paid attention to the people he interacted with from an unassuming distance. While K probably lived a very stressful and interesting life behind the closed doors of his hideouts and warehouses, his everyday ethics were pretty bland and easy to predict. Of course, you weren’t the one to complain, for it made your job easier.

During that time, you’ve also thought of an extravagant but careful enough way to finish the mission. Thankfully, creativity wasn’t a skill you lacked most of the time.  

The plan was simple when broken down. Every third day, at 4pm, K. drives from his home to The Vipers’ main warehouse. He takes the exact same route to reach that destination in the shortest period of time, driving either his black Porsche or B’s red Dodge. Both cars were one of a kind in the area. There are exactly 6 traffic lights he has to stop at before advancing to the highway and leaving the city. With some advanced work, you managed to interfere with them through a tiny device that was set up and connected to a phone. It still didn’t work at command (which you wish it did), but it bought some time by prolonging the red light.

Thankfully, your city had a wide chain of sewers that spread under every single street, numerous manholes leading in and out.  

The public town cameras positioned at almost every corner were connected to your phone as well, allowing a great view of the street you’ll be operating on – or underneath, for a better narration. Navigating through the sewers should be relatively easy, thanks to the map you’ve studied numerous times. After interrupting the traffic light, K’s car will (presumably) stop right above a manhole, through which you’d be able to set up a 30-second explosive. The car should explode a street away, killing K.

Surprisingly enough, the plan worked out perfectly. With hurried steps you’ve walked into one of the empty alleyways, immediately running towards an already open manhole. There was a bright yellow warning that indicated a hole in the ground – one that no one closed even after a whole year of the sign just standing there. Looking around for the last time, you slipped in, sprinting away the moment your feet touched the ground.

Steps echoed through the empty tunnel, contact with wet surface only creating loud splashing noises. Currently, the screen of your phone was split, half showing the camera display of the street and half exhibiting a blue button and a frozen counter. A few minutes of fast navigation through the sewers, you looked up, realizing the designated place was there. A quick look up granted proof that the plate was there. K was then taking a turn, only a few hundred meters away from you.  

With a quick and forceful tap of the blue circle, you watched the light turn red.

The powerful vehicle driving closer appeared even louder down there. When K stopped and the noisy engine came to a halt, the cameras were there to confirm his perfect position. Hurriedly, you climbed up, working the plate open with a miniature crowbar (that you carried in a backpack, along with the explosive). Then, with calculated and calm movements, the metal cover was carefully moved and the car was right there.

Huge amount of smoke entered through the opening, making you cough. Much like always, time was precious and there were only twenty more seconds. Skillfully, you securely tied the tiny bomb to the underside of K’s vehicle, closing the manhole up and setting the timer off immediately after.

The light turned green and the mighty engine roared for its last time.

Taking a clean jump down, you ran back the same way. Somewhere in the middle, you heard a huge bang, followed by strong vibrations of the ground. Smirking, you nodded in satisfaction because of yet another case well done.

Outside, on the main street, while many panicked about the car currently on fire and a dead man inside, the familiar blue-haired stranger watched with calm in his irises. He was leaned on one of the walls, laughing at the scared pedestrians and their clumsiness. Then, as if programmed, the moment you came out of the alleyway, he turned to face you.

Caught like a deer in headlights, you stopped in tracks. Blue smirked boldly, nodding slightly with a raised eyebrow – as if giving props for the finished job. Once again, an anxious feeling overtook your body, slight goosebumps appearing on soft skin. Gulping, you took a deep breath and walked right past, trying not to look intimidated by his sharp gaze.

Despite the familiarity you felt, Blue never once showed any signs of knowing who you once were or where you came from. Yet, it looked as if he knew exactly who you were and who you worked for currently, which was a worse situation to be in.

Once again, you aimlessly walked through lit up, bustling streets. Unnecessarily, you felt like a part of the normal community during these times. The chilly wind was somewhat relaxing against warm skin, serving as a distraction from overthinking. There were a thousand things that could go wrong every time, and thinking about them wouldn’t make anything easier. In the end, your skill and instincts never failed you, every move already memorized as muscle reflex.

About twenty minutes in, you caught onto a familiar person a few meters ahead. There was a small group of people separating the two of you, therefore they allowed short glimpses. Still, the tall, lean physique and dark blue hair that gleamed under the street light, gave their identity away. It was him.

The man’s posture was something you were already used to – relaxed, with steps long but calculated. His head was bent down lifting up for a second only, before falling down again. With the way his arms were positioned, you supposed the male held a phone or some sort of device in his hands.  Not daring to approach, you chose to follow his movements from a safe distance.  

A tall, strong man took a quick right turn into one of the side streets, effectively distancing away from the crowd. You wouldn’t have paid any special attention to him, if it weren’t for Blue’s gradual stop as well. Choosing not to blow the cover off, you continued with the same pace for a little while, ignoring the other as you passed right by. After about thirty more steps, you sat on one of the free benches that allowed a clear view of the blue haired man.

He stood on the same place, now leaning against one of the street lamps, phone still in hands. The device lit up Blue’s beautiful features, his stern eyes occasionally looking up and at the direction that man disappeared in. From his actions, you presumed he was the next target, and the assassin was only studying his behavior and roundabouts.

Although you couldn’t see, Blue watched the man enter one of the buildings, then waited for the lights on the 3rd floor to turn on and a window to be opened, much like always. When that happened, he pushed the phone into his jacket and turned around, happy with the final observation. You sneakily watched from afar, admiring the relaxation and carefreeness.

Then unexpectedly, Blue turned his head slowly, eyes meeting with yours. They found you so easily and that’s when you realized there was no cover to begin with. The uneasiness once again itched your skin. It was clear that he was aware of your positioning, hell, he probably even knew when you were behind him. The man’s eyebrow rose in an amused manner, before he looked the other way and walked away.

Something told you to go and follow.  

Taking careful and light steps between people, you tried to stay as low-key as possible, although the other probably expected – scratch that, knew – you were behind. His phone rang, an annoying ringtone interrupting the previous atmosphere. Blue picked up quick, talking quietly but laughing loudly at whatever the person on the other end said. Quickening the pace, you were able to get close enough to hear pieces of their conversation – unfortunately it wasn’t anything interesting, rather a casual talk between two friends. You suspected the man used this as a foolish cover.

Suddenly, he turned a corner, disappearing right behind. The phone call was still ongoing, his strong voice echoing through the alleyway for just a short period of time before getting lost in silence. You waited a couple of seconds before advancing.

It was your shadow that first made it around, but it made no effort of warning you about what’s to come. A silent scream left your lips, as the man you’ve been stalking for the past twenty minutes stood right ahead. His body was so incredibly close, minty breath fanning against your face. The corner of his lips formed a teasing smirk.  

“Hello, Red” He spoke, voice low, but with a pinch of playfulness in it. His big hand lifted up and reached behind your ear, taking a hold of a certain strand of hair. Noticing the expected color was no more, Blue frowned lightly. “Oh? It’s not red anymore?”

His act evidently surprised you, eyes wide open and lips parted slightly. The fact that he called you Red had only increased the bewilderment. A battle of foreign emotions started inside of your mind and chest. A foreign, bubbly feeling was fueled by pure hope that the other somehow remembered you, while the rational mind suspected the man’s real intentions and knowledge. In the end, Blue had never once interacted with you directly, how would he know about a hidden strand? Who did he hear it from?

“Hello, Blue” You replied, looking him right in the eyes and choosing to ignore his previous question. There was a slight tinge of dominance in your words, something that the other wasn’t quite expecting. “Nice to finally meet you”

“Haven’t you a long time ago, though?” He questioned, the smirk now turning into a light-hearted smile. Something about it had you wanting to wipe it off immediately. Nevertheless, his words once again had a double meaning. They echoed in your mind, replaying like a never-ending mantra. Technically, the two of you were no strangers, but what reason should you give him? Was it thanks to the faith that intertwined your paths or was it the history you’ve indirectly shared?

“Let’s just say I like to make things formal like this” The more you observed the man’s features, the more you grew intrigued. He was just so perfectly sculpted, and it made no sense that someone as breathtaking as him busied himself with such dirty work. Yet, God only knew what had forced the young boy to choose such a path.

“Well then, my name is Juyeon” Blue extended his hand for a handshake, once again showcasing just how big his hands were. Not bothering to take the gloves off, you accepted his greeting, somehow managing to feel the roughness of his palm over the black leather. A quick mutter of your own name was seemingly enough for Juyeon, for he hummed along and repeated it with the same tone. You didn’t miss the smooth flow of the vowels off his tongue.

Tranquility enveloped the small alleyway. Wind blew through it in strong waves, messing up your hair. Two frames stood just a step away, never once breaking eye contact, but prolonging the silence that swallowed every other sound. It was becoming awkward, yet neither knew how to bring up topics that obviously interested both.

“So, want to grab coffee, or?” Juyeon asked, breaking the suffocating atmosphere. His words served as a splash of cold water that brought you back into Reliaty, eyes averting their gaze for the first time. You watched a rat run from one trash can to the other, disappearing behind it in a matter of seconds.

“No, I actually have something more important to do” The truth was, you wanted to go with him out of pure curiosity, but a lot was holding you back. Even after imagining this exact moment a thousand times, you weren’t sure you were ready for it. Apart from that, there was yet another more impulsive reason for the refusal. You’ve been taught that everyone was an enemy when looked at from the right angle, especially in this job. Therefore, you were to deny as a precaution to not allow just anyone to use any information against you.

And what’s the most unfortunate was that Juyeon wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly your type. Which meant that he was both the most dangerous and safest of them all. The worst combination.

“But less important than following me for about...” The male looked down at his watch, an expensive device tightly secured around his wrist, “20 minutes?”. Blue's expression was one of curiosity, probably anticipating the reply to his remark.

“I had time to kill” It wasn’t at all believable, but the other let it slide with a slight chuckle. He glanced at you with an amused look, before speaking.

“Kill huh? Working so late?” Juyeon teased, the chuckle from before now growing into an audible laugh. Truthfully, this exact reply had caught you off guard pretty well and the silence that suddenly spread was a solid proof of it. Fortunately, though, the other allowed time to think of an answer properly, all while having the cheekiest smile spread on his lips.

“Why so surprised? Weren’t you doing the same a little while ago?” Juyeon nodded at your question, shoulders shrugging fast as if to nonchalantly approve of it. You were quite surprised with his quick confirmation that didn’t hold a pinch of hesitance. It felt as if he was perfectly fine with verifying all of your suspicious and letting you know about the trivial things. Logically speaking, it was only fair, considering how much he apparently knew about you.

“Well then... I can’t do anything about your time” Tsking to show fake disappointment, the male pushed his hands into tight jean pockets and gazed down. It was surprising that he wasn’t pushing the proposal, rather accepting the denial. For whichever reason, your pride accepted a decent hit. With one foot, he carelessly kicked a rock on the ground with a heel, making something underneath his shoe cling. The sound didn’t go unnoticed.

“I guess I’ll see you around then” Juyeon added, before turning in the other direction and slipping away. Before you could react, the man was already ten steps ahead, carrying himself in the same relaxed fashion as before. His steps echoed, the soles of his shoes way too hard on the ground. Upon a quick accidental look, you noticed a piece of shiny metal on his heels, reflecting off the light that happened to hit them directly. Huffing was your only reaction to it.

The whole way back, your thoughts were a hectic mess, one that couldn’t be calmed down, for they always wandered towards the blue haired assassin.

You never really liked warehouses, for they were way too open. Thankfully though, the one you were working in today wasn’t empty – crates and boxes filled with unknown substances and materials were scattered all around, as well as machinery that’s used to move them around. Overall, all of those objects allowed much cover and plenty of room to comfortably work around the broad place. Moreover, your steps weren’t going to echo too much in such a setting.

Today’s target was a man named Captain Lee, a case similar to about a hundred others previously assigned – work with government officials. You never cared how many people did what, but you supposed the most died because they hadn't paid their part of the deal or smuggled with the government. Either way, they happened often and you will never run out of work just because of that.  

Hidden and on a great distance, you watched Lee and another man (assumed government official) enter the warehouse. Unfortunately, both had a generous number of bodyguards, but luckily, none were allowed inside. The huge door was the only easy entrance option, but since that would immediately ruin the mission, you decided to infiltrate some other way. Working fast and precise, you climbed up set of drainpipes and entered through an open window on the roof. Done in less than three minutes – record time. Dropping down was a more challenging move, but nothing too bad, for you entered far enough from the two men to remain unnoticed.

Your shoes that were two sizes bigger, proved to be a bigger hassle today than ever before. The metal railing was very hard to move over without making any unnecessary sound. The mask on your face helped you breathe properly, the air being way too stale for anyone’s liking. Thankfully, there were no major light sources that would interfere with your cover. Full black attire matched perfectly with the semi-dark surroundings.  

The voices of the two males weren’t loud, but in an empty space like this, the echo was immense. It helped you navigate around or between the crates and gigantic shelves in the most accurate manner. The pistol in your hand was already equipped with a silencer, your hand reaching up to stabilize it for the last time. Slowly, you sneaked closer, back pressed against a set of boxes.

Then, unpredictably, something moved in the corner of your eye.

Stopping dead in tracks, your full attention moved to the staircase not so far away. It was protected by one of the huge machines – those you supposed organized all of these crates. Your mind promptly wandered off to the worst scenario – it must’ve been a guard you failed to notice. Gripping the pistol with more force, you aimed at the suspicious area, holding the bullet in, but ready to fire if needed.

Despite the darkness, you noticed a puff of blue hair. Lowering the gun with an inaudible sigh, your eyes rolled back, jaw clenching in frustration. The boy peeked out carefully, irises finding yours in an instant. He nodded in your direction, hand moving slightly in a low wave.  

Looks like the day has come when the two sides get to work together.

Juyeon seemed to realize that as well, for he moved closer to the edge of his cover, evidently willing to make a plan of action. For a moment, ego and pride made you think about ditching the offer, why would you ever need help? But on a second thought, he would definitely make everything easier, and who in their right mind would deny that? Shuffling closer, you accepted the silent proposal with a nod.

Although far away, the two succeeded in communicating through short signals, functionally organizing a proper scheme. You’ve got to know the male was equipped with a knife only – which really didn’t make things easier, but it was possible to work around it.

Juyeon got moving quick after ending the discussion, making his way around the warehouse. You watched his steps until he disappeared, readying yourself to fire at Lee and disappear if anything goes wrong. In the end, you weren’t going to risk getting caught because of someone else’s mistake all while already being so close to completing your part of the job.

Once in position, the other assassin threw a coin in another direction, the tiny object immediately serving as a distraction. Exactly then, both of you jumped out of cover, not giving the two men any reaction time before It was too late.

Juyeon grabbed the official from the back and covered his mouth with one hand, the other coming up to slit his throat, while you fired two rounds at Lee’s head. The pistol, although suppressed, made two sets of noises that still sounded through the warehouses.

Experienced, you knew that if the bodyguards had trained ears, they’d pick up on the sound. Therefore, in a hurry and with a wish to get out of there asap, you grabbed Juyeon’s unoccupied hand and took off running. Hurried steps probably made more sound than the shots you were worried about, but thankfully there was still no one that could hear them.

Juyeon diligently followed behind, holding onto the thin blade and occasionally looking back at the entrance door. Fortunately, both of you were able to reach the exit in a matter of few minutes. Just a moment before slipping out, he picked up on a glimpse of two bulky silhouettes entering the warehouse. Pay people to protect you, only to be murdered without witnesses. Bodyguards my ass, Juyeon thought.

Neither spoke until far away from the mission location. Walking through the woods, both tried making as little noise as possible, gripping their weapons tight just in case there was any more danger. In the natural setting, black clothes greatly contrasted the greens, yellows and browns. Nonetheless, the two figures silently walked through with determination.

Only when in complete clear, did the both stuff their weapons inside their attire, taking the hoods and masks off before anyone could notice. More relaxed and less covered up, you’d look like a normal couple taking a walk in the nature. The road you took led towards the center of the city, but it was a long, long walk.  

After scanning your emotionless face for a few minutes, Juyeon was the first to break the silence.

“Don’t you feel the smallest bit of remorse? He had a sick wife and year-old twins waiting for him at home” The question was a pure shocker. Instantly stopping in place, you looked the other in the eye with the most baffled expression. Out of everything he could’ve asked, that’s what he chose to say? Was he judging you? Was he expecting you to actually care?  

You weren't sure where he was coming from.

“Excuse me? Do you? Are you any better than I am?” You bit back, hoping the pure annoyance that dripped from your words reached the other. Juyeon’s face didn’t change at all though, it remained blank, as if your passive attack hadn’t even touched him. As if you were getting worked up for no reason.

“He didn’t have a family; I don’t sign such things; therefore, I don’t feel that way” The male replied, in a matter of fact tone. His attention wasn’t on you, but an invisible dot in the distance, somewhere between all of the trees and bushes. Still, he could clearly feel you looking at him with a suspicious expression.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes. I have a choice and I choose not to do it, simple as that. Not everyone works for the same people and has the same goals as you”

You wondered how can someone make your blood boil in such a short period of time. Much like you, Juyeon trained for years; it was a fact that he had no empathy for any of his victims – such thing was inevitable. Every assassin in training had to go through the desensitization program, and no one was different than the other when it came to feelings of this kind. So, what exactly was he trying to do with his questions?

Why did it matter if you cared or not? Why did it matter if someone had a family or not? What was the difference? Just because he worked for ‘the good guys’, he got to be the morally right one? What even was it they fought for? Peace, order, harmony in the community as a whole? Or satisfaction, more power of the hungry ones on top by murdering individuals? You had to laugh.

All these years of work and you’ve never once stopped to think about someone’s family or friends, for it simply wouldn’t have changed anything about the final decision. “No hard feelings” was one of the few rules of the whole ordeal. Killing people was your job, the execution of someone didn’t have anything to do with their sick wives or young children.  

You stepped forward, pressing a finger into Juyeon’s chest.

“Listen up pretty boy, we’re both murderers. We carry the souls of hundreds on our weapons. It doesn’t fucking matter who our targets are. We’re the exact same; except, I’m honest and I only do this because it pays good fucking money, and what is it you’re striving for? With your ass always covered? Pitiful peace and justice? That’s pathetic. There’s no such thing in this job.”

At this point, you were fuming, jaw clenched and eyes boring holes into the other’s forehead. Although your voice was hushed, it was quite authoritative. The boiling blood that flowed through veins quick only fueled your irritated brain. Truthfully, the boy did feel slightly intimidated, but more so intrigued.

“Get your head out of that utopia mindset. “Oh I’m killing because that helps keep our community peaceful”, no! You’re killing to make the rats on the top happy and get paid a fortune! You’re taking a life whoever you’re working for. It does not matter if they have ten starving children, or a sugar baby waiting for them at home. There’s a reason they should be dead and you’re not the one to question it! Much less using family as an argument! That’s pointless!”

Juyeon didn’t try and oppose your thoughts, only watched your annoyed being work itself up with every sentence spoken. The smirk on his lips slowly grew wider, eventually turning into an honest smile. Although not in ideal conditions, you managed to captivate him so much, and the man wanted to know and hear more from you, even if that meant you had to yell at his reasoning.

It was interesting how the tables have turned though. Juyeon suddenly wanted to continue observing and listening to you, admire this smaller being that held so much power and determination. It was only now that the male realized the appeal of doing so, after so many years of wondering just what had you looking at him from a distance for so long. The two of you were so different now, despite being so similar back then. Yet the one thing that hadn't changed, was the beauty of the young girl that had evidently followed her into adulthood.

He’d hardly admit it, but he was glad that faith had done its job at setting the two of you up again.

Thanks to your state, the next fifteen minutes went by without any more words. Juyeon kept a safe distance, a couple of steps behind you, unsure of what to do. The tension was beginning to make him uncomfortable. At one point, the thin blade placed inside of his hoodie moved, and the boy let out a fast yelp. The knife managed to shift in such a way that fortunately didn’t harm, but warned the other of its position.

Juyeon crouched down and pushed one arm underneath his hoodie, moving the weapon and trying to push it deeper into the hidden fluffy pocket. For whatever reason, worried about the lack of presence behind, you turned around and noticed the man crouching down, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Approaching out of pure curiosity, you lowered to be on eye level – not quite expecting Blue’s next move. Just to break the unbearable tension, he thought.

With a quick grasp of your arm, Juyeon pulled you towards him, falling back into the soft grass. The two figures fell down, one of which was smirking wide with hooded eyes and the other wore an astonished expression.

“You see Red, you’re some type of enemy for the regime as well, working for sketchy people and killing unnoticed... Be more careful, otherwise I can make some money off you too” The boy joked, voice calm but low. His sudden change of demeanor had you pleasantly surprised and without much thought, you joined in on the play. Situated on top of him, you lowered yourself down, just a few inches away from his face.

“Oh, you can, but you won’t” You replied back, a smirk of your own bidding its hello.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Juyeon answered, suddenly pressing something sharp against your stomach. In any other instance, the action would have immediately set off your self-defense mechanism, but right now, the man was allowed to have his harmless fun. Somehow, you felt the other wasn’t a threat, and your senses never lied to you.

“Because it’s against your morals, pretty boy. You wouldn’t dare. You kill only when ordered and I highly doubt I was ever on your list” With that, you managed to take home a doubtless checkmate. The man tried ignoring the way you called him for the second time that day. Slowly but surely, you took a hold of Juyeon’s big hand that held the weapon and moved it away to a much safer distance. The other let you, without any protest or fight back.

“Plus... I don’t think I’m working against you; I don’t touch anyone else but the bad guys, remember?”

At such close proximity, it was possible to predict what were the thoughts of both. Unexpectedly though, beside a moment-driven need to press your lips together, there was a hidden feeling of understanding and content. Both remained in the exact position for a little while, breathing the same air and enjoying this unique situation.

Without any special reason, you lifted up and touched Juyeon's nose with a soft finger. The act changed the atmosphere quick and caused both to giggle, pleasantly surprised to experience it recklessly Mindfully, you then hoisted yourself up and off the boy, helping him get on his feet as well.

An imperceptible crack formed inside of your soul, something that was just a beginning of a storm.

The next two weeks passed by without any encounters. You took time off to regain energy before moving onto the next scheduled and fixed mission, while Juyeon busied himself with the usual, easy executions. He’d run around the city, hang about in underground passages throughout the day and sneak through alleyways during the night. His victims weren’t big bites at all, for he had gotten used to simple cases of unprotected individuals.  

Juyeon has always been covered by the government, which was to be expected since he did work for them. Every single life the assassin had taken, was never recorded in his dossier, for it remained as clean as ever. The cases he and a few other colleagues worked on were never investigated properly, always thrown under the mat or closed by the court after a few days. It often happened that innocent people were forced to take blame, just so the families of victims felt ‘content’ and ‘justice’ - despite it being far away from that.

The boy had a proper reason for why he chose the path of paid assassination. It's not rare to hear that people who’re born in a violent environment grow up to be violent as well – and unfortunately that was exactly what happened to the blue haired assassin.

Juyeon was only seven when he had lost a dear parent. On an unfortunate night, his father had come home shitface drunk and proceeded to beat up his mother. It was sad to say, but the boy, as well as his younger brother, were used to violence, as it occurred almost daily. Their mother would always usher the two youngsters into their rooms, before she strongly took all of the anger of the older so her kids wouldn’t have to. The man had rarely ever come home sober, and the number of times they listened to the pitiful gasps and cries downstairs was way too great to count.

Still, one night, Juyeon noticed his mother laying on the ground in a pool of red liquid and her mouth parted with eyes fixed on an invisible dot. The father, enraged and unable to process the situation properly, lunged towards him. With extreme amount of luck, Juyeon managed to shield his younger brother for a second, immediately grabbing him by the hand and running out into the open.

Even so young, Juyeon was aware of everything. Raindrops fell in an even, calm rhythm on the pavement while the sky flashed every now and then. He ran almost barefoot, the socks on his feet soaked by the wet pavement. All the time, he held tight onto the younger’s hand, encouraging him to continue running despite everything else. The teddybear his brother carried was dragged along the ground, plastic nose creating a strange noise over asphalt ground.

It took a long time until they were able to find someone on the streets in such weather. One young and reliable looking woman stood under a shop shade, seemingly waiting for the pour to stop. Mindfully though, she ran out of cover to help the same moment they came into view. The woman was shocked and distressed, listening to the heartbreaking story of two young souls who spoke through never-ending tears, their voices breaking with every sob.

Juyeon and his brother were taken into custody quick, and their father was arrested in a matter of one day. Sadly, the siblings were soon separated, both going into different families due to unknown circumstances. They never saw each other again.

Juyeon grew up into a teenager with a never dying urge to get revenge on his father. The picture of his mother lying dead on the ground replayed behind his eyelids every time they closed, it only fueling the hidden fury. He couldn’t fall asleep easily and when it somehow happened, he wouldn’t sleep for long as the image would haunt his young mind even then. Juyeon was unwillingly updated on the state of his father, who he visited not even once.

Either way, Juyeon silently plotted how to get back on the remaining parent, not letting anyone know anything about those plans – which fell apart in the end. The elder died in prison two years later – cause unknown. Juyeon hadn’t bothered to go to the funeral.

The teen ended up without a revenge, nor the justice he thought his mother deserved. Juyeon turned towards bad habits and streets fights, often falling victim to toxic relationships. Everything he did was to ease off the horrible feeling of guilt and anger he simultaneously felt. Secretly, everyone feared him, his sharp words and skills, despite the boy never doing any intentional harm to others without a proper reason. The fights Juyeon got into were only when he felt immoraly wronged, or when someone really pissed him off.  

Eventually, the boy was introduced to the job he’d later become a professional at. Young Juyeon thoroughly thought this tough decision over many times, especially when standing before the big, bossy man who immediately offered him a contract. The older said that people like him tend to be perfect for the job, particularly when driven by a certain emotion – something that would drive them on. At first, Juyeon wasn’t sure where he would end up with a “degree” in assassination, therefore hesitance was a reasonable reaction.  

Sly as a fox though, the boss used unfortunate history against the rookie. Juyeon was told that if he did well enough, there’s a chance he’d be accepted into the government guard – and it fought for justice and peace.  

It was surprising how kids of different backgrounds happen to receive the same treatment and training, only to end up on different places again. One could think that since everyone experienced identical programs, they were meant to work together – when it was the exact opposite. The minor differences in performance and work ethics that could easily be overlooked, were the ones that labeled you a certain position. And unfortunately, it often depended on just what kind of person they turned you into.

Juyeon thought about his time there often. Short pieces of memory flying by and disappearing in an instant. The six years he spent watching different clips of torture and learning how to flawlessly execute a silent murder. All the days his mobility was challenged – running the same course, climbing different heights and crawling through miniature gaps while carrying different weapons.

He thought about all the different people there, all of the kids that he watched get beat up and heard scream – many of those giving up after only days of training.  

But she never did.

The little girl that always observed his practices and paid attention to his every move, as if she was trying to remember them as well. He remembered the younger taking everything thrown at her like a complete champion, determination and will for success written over her face in bold letters. Juyeon always wondered just what it was that made her so persistent.

Shivers ran down his spine as the face of the little girl in his head took on familiar lines. They formed a mature and stoic, yet beautiful as ever face. Juyeon sighed loudly, still not processing the fact that faith made it be so their paths crossed again.

How exactly the two of you managed to find each other so fast in a club full of people, was unexplainable. It could’ve been a sixth sense that you’ve developed, for the two pairs of eyes immediately locked the moment you walked in. Thanks to previous experiences and an uninteresting game of guessing, you’ve come to the realization that once again, the playing field was same for both.

Slowly creeping up to the man, you threw your hands around his neck, attempting to dance to whatever song the DJ was remixing. It was an easy way to get blended into the crowd and communicate with the other without raising suspicion. Flashing colorful lights along with the excessive amount of fake mist and sweaty people once again reminded of the reason why you didn’t like clubs. But alas, work had to be done.  

Juyeon had caught onto your plan, but the smirk and hooded eyes clearly showed that he was quite amused with your boldness. Carefully, his big hands creeped up to your hips, bringing close to his and swaying them to the beat of the song. With a gasp of surprise, you giggled, turning around in Juyeon’s hold, back pressed flush against his strong chest. The male’s head moved closer, lips lingering just above your ear. Out of pure curiosity, with a swift move, your ass ground against Juyeon’s crotch, eliciting the sweetest gasp in return. Before any remark could be made, you glanced back, speaking in such a volume that no one else heard.

“Who is it tonight?”  

“One of the sisters, Yuri” Juyeon replied, voice low and rough, soft lips finally touching your ear. The grip on your hips tightened, as a precaution to not dare pull the same trick twice. Although the colorful tints of flashing lights turned the whole room into hectic mess, Juyeon was thankful for it hid the flush that unknowingly overtook his features.

“Oh, how exciting!” You replied in a sarcastic tone. “I’m here because of Aria!” The answer received a hum of understanding in return.  

The two sisters, Aria and Yuri, while not the most influential on the streets, had managed to get themselves involved in quite a few problems with the big ones, for a short period of time. To know that the fall of both happened due to one’s mistakes was slightly disappointing. It was one of those rare cases you were disclosed all details, and simply put, it had your eyes rolling back. Everything could’ve been easily sorted out.

Despite being twins, they were complete opposites. Aria was always the calm, calculated and careful sibling, while Yuri ran around, causing problems, concerning herself with illegal jobs and getting away with it thanks to her connections. Those associates often asked for something in return, and more often than not, it was someone with some type of political power. You guessed that’s why Juyeon was here tonight. Can’t say it wasn’t to be expected.

Aria, although the more mature twin, got dragged into everything thanks to Yuri. Surprisingly enough, she managed to find a place in the community fast. At first, Aria often did the dirty and hard work of finding new druggie customers for her bosses. Eventually, she progressed and ranked up significantly (no one really knows how she did it so fast), finally allowed to deal crack and heroine by herself – while of course having to pay a percentage back to the leader. The semi-autonomy was there in theory.  

It all went smooth and well until Yuri found out. To her irrational brain, it only meant free shots of fun every time she needed it. Therefore, like a fool, Yuri started using the drugs her sister had to sell, without giving a coin back. Whatever the reason was, Aria let her.

Debt happened fast, as Aria couldn’t pay back enough money, nor make up a good enough excuse as to where the drugs went. The siblings tried prolonging their (Aria’s) payment date and buying just a tad bit more time to get everything sorted out. Empty promises were spoken through disposable phones as Aria pledged the money will be ready soon.  

And as if they were suddenly blind and deaf to the fact of being in debt, the sisters decided to open a nightclub. Apparently, the earnings (they hoped would happen fast) would be used to pay back thousands of dollars they owed.

Unfortunately, being too hopeful was never a good thing. And that’s why you were there on the exact day of the grand opening.

“Well then, can I ask you to be my partner in crime, Miss?” Juyeon whispered, nudging your temple with his nose. Although in the mood to play with the other for a little while longer, you had to get to work first. Once again turning in his hold, you nodded and began bopping along to the new beat that vibrated off the walls. With foreheads pressed together, you tried ignoring Juyeon’ sharp gaze and focusing on discussing a plan of action.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

It was unusually easy to get inside of the security room, turn the cameras off and delete all footage of the current night. With a bit of secretive work, two assassins found a blueprint of the whole floor, familiarizing themselves with all important points of the nightclub – first and foremost the security room. Immediately, both got to work.

Thanks to your moderately revealing outfit and Oscar-worthy acting (no sarcasm intended), you worked as a distraction in the first part of the plan. Accidentally walking into a male bathroom, you managed to gain attention of drunk and drugged men. As expected, they followed out like hungry dogs.  

In the meantime, Juyeon slipped in and out of the bathroom through an open window. The drain pipes, weird infrastructure and façade of the whole building, allowed him to make his way around and towards the security room. The window was barely open, but with a bit of force, it was lifted up higher and Juyeon jumped in without much sound.  

With quick work of skilled fingers, the footage was deleted and all cameras were disabled for the night. Following the same path, the male left, making sure to lower the window into its previous position before returning to the bathroom. Luckily, your charm and flirty words worked well enough to keep other men outside the room until Juyeon came back.

He felt wronged seeing everyone looking you up and down as if you were some type of provocative art piece, hoping to get a feeling with their nasty fingers. Immediately, Juyeon approached the little group and wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder, leading you away. Sounds of disapproval were heard from the rest, but neither paid no mind, already focused on the next piece of the plan.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Keeping up the cover often required creative and interesting measures. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet never once have you made out with someone in public because of it.

At one point of the night, while progressing towards the next point, you’ve noticed a couple of guards paying a little bit more attention than usual. The amount of security surrounding one piece of the corridor was enough information to understand that the sisters (or at least one of them) were in one of those rooms. Trying to play drunk and drugged was so far the best shot at being left alone, but it seemingly didn’t work this time, as one bulky man walked towards you. The sound of his voice was almost silenced by the deafening music playing in the background.

“I’m sorry this is a-”  

Suddenly, Juyeon pushed you against a wall. Big hands cupped your face, holding it so delicately, carefully, as if you were a rose made out of glass. Yet, his lips moved against yours with a hungry and lustful feeling, only breaking apart to catch a breath before continuing where interrupted. One of his hands trailed lower, hitching one of your thighs over his hips, earning a rather surprised and breathless gasp in return. Unfortunately, the guard wasn’t willing to cooperate.

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave this area” He yelled, voice unexpectedly high for a man his built. Juyeon chose to ignore the other, kisses now trailing underneath your jaw and over the tender skin of your neck, nipping but not strong enough to leave any marks.

Growing impatient and with an obvious pressure from his colleagues that bore holes into his back, the guard grabbed and  Juyeon’s bicep, effectively breaking the two apart. It took all of Juyeon’s mind strength not to turn around and break the man’s arm – that much was obvious from the sudden fire in his eyes.

“Leave” The bigger said, pointing back towards the direction you’ve came from. With glassy and hooded eyes, you watched the intimidating man, giving him a wide, forced smile. Pointing between the two guys, you started laughing, occasionally looking away and trying to suppress more giggles from spilling out. Juyeon caught onto the tactic and followed it, his shoulders rising and falling in a fast rhythm.

“I’m sorry~ we’ll goooo” Not wanting to create any unnecessary drama, you grasped Juyeon’s hand, leading the way while fake stumbling and force laughing the whole time. The male tried supporting you, and for a more authentic look, his own steps shortened and uneven.

“Drunk kids... I can’t bel..” Was all you’ve heard from the guard, before his voice blended in and disappeared in great noise that was an EDM beat.

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Around one in the morning, when the night was reaching its peak, the two targets came out of their room. Despite other distractions, Juyeon and you spectated from a safe distance, dancing against each other for the nth time that night. As per usual, Yuri appeared high and out of her mind, while Aria dragged her towards a small terrace that overlooked the dance floor. There was a guard that followed behind.

“I guess it’s true that they’re giving a speech tonight... how eventful” With a sarcastic tone, Juyeon whispered in your ear. You looked up towards the terrace and hummed along to signal his words have been heard.

“There’s only one guard following, there must be more up there” He continued, head dipping low and lips caressing the exposed skin of your neck. Following the beat of the song, Juyeon moved one of his legs between yours, interested to see the reaction he’d get. His bold touches and moves intensified the unusual tension and sudden heat you already felt. The mission had to be done fast, since you weren’t sure how much more of this new, pleasurable torture you could take. Both were being pretty unprofessional, evidently forgetting about their main focus at times.This wasn’t at all like either of them.

“Taking them out up there is too risky anyway” You began, leaning your head back into the juncture of Juyeon’s shoulder, before speaking again, this time with a more teasing tone “Can’t guarantee that my idea is safe either, though. Are you up for the challenge?”

“Oh woah, don’t get too cocky on me now, baby” Blue replied, smirking when your head shot up to look him in the eyes. It faded fast, an eyebrow raising in a questionable manner, as if his words weren’t special and deserving of such a reaction. “Tell me. I get to hear the offer first before taking it, right?”

“You’re acting way too unprofessional. We’re here with a reason” You whined, suddenly wanting to distance away from the other, but a tight hold on your hips didn’t allow that.

“Me? Unprofessional? Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t the one grinding down on my thigh” Juyeon bit back with a generous amount of confidence, the one that people carried themselves with when they were aware of being right. The colorful lights hid the immediate flush that overtook your features. A quick look to the right proved the man that his words definitely had an effect.  

“So? Are you going to tell me or let a chance slip away?”

°•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° °•. ✿ .•° 

Aria and Yuri laid dead inside a big closet, their necks snapped and heads hanging in an unnatural way. Juyeon and you once again happened to be the most compatible teammates, getting the job done and leaving the club before anyone suspected a thing.  

The time between leaving and present passed by in a blur and way too fast. Or maybe it didn’t, maybe it was just the power of Juyeon’s soft touches and hungry kisses that made you forget all about it.

Currently pressed against a cold brick wall a few streets away from the nightclub, you enjoyed the attention the man was offering. It all felt unusual and new, but not in a bad way. The wall temperature greatly contrasted the one of the body pressed against you, creating an unusual but pleasant combination. Juyeon’s lips rarely stayed on yours, often wandering down to your jaw and juncture of shoulder. This time though, he didn’t care about the marks, pink bruises now decorating the expanse of your neck. With hands in his dark blue strands, you pulled Juyeon closer, moving in just the right ways to allow more access to the soft and undamaged skin.

It wasn’t clear why both assassins gave in to the sudden want for each other. There were no evident emotions to back up their actions, just a strong need that had to be fulfilled with no one else but the other. Some could suppose it was the consequence of their blunt actions from before, while others may argue that it was something much more meaningful. A relatively new, exciting state of mind and experience that obviously didn’t have to happen, yet it did. A slipup so to say - or at least both hoped that it was.

“How can you be this hot after just murdering someone?” The man asked breathlessly, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips that formed a slight smile. His sharp eyes looked at yours with a new kind of emotion, something you weren’t able to pinpoint just yet. Juyeon’s deep but quick breaths matched yours, both trying to take in as much air as possible in a short period of time.

“What can I say, I’m a natural at keeping people around my finger” You raised a pinky up, playing along, voice low and seductive. Truly, there were missions that required acting flirty and playing dirty, therefore your charm has developed quite a lot. Still, what you tried implicating at was the situation from earlier that night, when all those men gathered around you. There was no reason to expect a reaction from the other. Juyeon’s expression quickly changed into something that resembled a frown, but it disappeared just as fast, not allowing any time to make any remarks about it.

Suddenly, the thigh that was once again positioned between your legs flexed, making you flinch and unwillingly whine. The man smirked, closing in the distance again, but not enough for yet another kiss.

“Should I be scared to become one of those people, then?” He whispered, irises playing between your eyes and lips that were just a breath away. The intimate proximity that went on for way too long happened to have a negative effect on you. Gradually, a pinch of doubt and hesitance began clouding your mind, scolding it for being too carefree next to the other. They reminded of just who the man was, and that the game currently played was a dangerous one. Without much thought, like a reflex, your hand moved quick, retrieving a pocket knife and pointing the tip at Juyeon’s barely covered stomach.

A gasp of sincere shock left the man’s lips, eyes opening wide, as he scanned your face. With an indifferent voice, but a slightly different mind, you spoke.

“I don’t know, should you?”

It was impressive to see how much effect people had on each other. Despite being busy with constant planning and thinking, there was always space in both heads to think about each other. Occasional pondering about his lips on hers, or her hands in his hair – all intensifying the anticipation for the next time.

Juyeon often found himself rushing missions because he knew the female wasn’t busy at the moment. Whenever passing by the familiar building and a certain room had even the slightest bit of light in it, the boy would invite himself over. It appeared that Juyeon risked much more than the other, and definitely much more than he should’ve.

Just out of pure skepticism that underlined every action, you never directly planned any of the meetings, rather letting the other barge in or set time and date. It was easy to catch onto his habits and when to expect a knock at your entrance door. For added security, weapons were kept in secretive places for quick use if the man ever decided to turn on you. And although fighting a never-ending battle inside of your mind, you grew to anticipate the hidden meetings. His kisses were spreading fire throughout your body, words messing with your mind and touches offering pure euphoria.

There were occasions when the two of you would meet at the rooftop, one always back from a mission while the other waited patiently. Sometimes, Juyeon’s hands still dripped fresh blood, the male not willing to waste any time on cleaning them before rushing towards you. It was a special feeling knowing that the fingers that used to do such horrifying things caressed your skin so delicately.

Slowly but surely, some type of understanding was established between the two. Then, the whole relationship wasn’t purely based on physical connection, and it meant much more than a way to satisfy hormonal human needs. Periodic talks about present worries and bothers, as well as thoughts on current events, allowed them to get to know each other better. Alas, the connection never reached its highest level, as numerous obstacles stopped them from reaching it – biggest being the female's constant hesitation.

Objectively speaking, Juyeon let himself open much more than the other did, always easy on bringing up topics to discuss about and contemplate on. He also shared much more information about himself, many of them being trivial and harmless things, but still something you stoically held back on. Of course, that didn’t mean you were silent during two-way conversations, just pickier about what you wanted to share.

Juyeon understood that, and he appreciated everything you’ve told him. That compassion was the foundation that will slowly build a more trusting and open relationship in the future. You valued his way of acting, enjoying harmless discussions and gradually getting used to having a companion who became a part of your almost daily life.

With a little bit of effort from both sides, everything was going to work, or at least you hoped. You encouraged every passing meeting, every second together, to hit the wall of reluctance with as much force as possible – still, unfortunately, it stood strong.

Blue and Red created purple during their nights together, merging with the beautiful melody of the storm that only grew bigger the closer it got.

Thanks to the impeccable weather, it was slightly challenging to get to the roof this time. However, with master level acting, fake politeness and a little bit of luck, you were able to avoid suspicion from the residents you passed by. Most definitely, and fortunately, not a single soul knew that there was a sniper rifle packed in a rather sizeable guitar bag you carried. Along with its components such as silencer, optical sight, bipod, additional ammunition...

Once on top of the building, you immediately unpacked the bag’s contents. First of was an expensive, albeit small door jammer that was installed straight away, effectively sealing the entrance you just walked through. Trying it a couple of times just to make sure, you deemed it impossible to open. Next was the sniper.

Having done such a thing countless times before, it didn’t take you long to properly set and load the weapon with a set of new bullets. The fresh smell of metal filled the small space around. Hiding behind a pile of rubbish, you set the bipod behind the cornice, muzzle and barrel pointing towards the road your target was supposed to appear on soon.  

Then, like a lightning, you immediately withdrew back, sniper pulled way behind and body pressing flush against the ground. There was a sudden feeling of being noticed and even watched, to which you were always quick to react. Keeping low for as long as time allowed, you dismounted the bipod as it only made advancing more difficult. Slowly but surely, you moved around, setting everything up on another corner with tall plants and flowers. The aim wasn’t as clear as before, but it wasn’t too big of a problem. Yet, despite the natural cover doing its job relatively well, the dangerous feeling was still present.

Taking a quick risk, you took off the current optical sight and mounted another, angled one, that allowed you to look around without being too exposed. Since you were on the 11th floor, on the tallest building in the area, there was no way someone could’ve noticed you from the roads down below. Glancing over them quickly just to make sure, the theory was deemed correct – no pedestrians had their heads raised up and looking in this exact direction.

Looking at the sky, you searched for drones or any other objects that could be supervising the area (as that unfortunately, did happen before and they had to be destroyed manually, via a gun). Thankfully, there were none, but instead of making you feel relieved, it only intensified the anxiety previously felt. Where was it coming from?

All you needed to get the desired answer, was an accidental glance over the roof of the building right across from yours. There, behind a pile of wooden planks, metal bars and all other unnecessary trash, you noticed a barely noticeable, but suspicious movement. Locking eyes on the exact spot and rolling the plastic on the sight, you zoomed in, getting a clearer image.  

Shockingly enough, there was a barrel peeking right between the two wooden planks, and it was pointed right at you.  

And then it quietly fired.

The bullet would’ve missed anyway, but thankfully, you moved down just in time, watching it penetrate the wall behind. Your heart leaped, pumping blood faster and kicking against your chest, almost as if it tried jumping out. Strange type of fear enveloped your body. It wasn’t fright for own life, rather unpleasant surprise that fueled thoughts of being outplayed. At this stage, you knew very little. Was it only one person? Were there more people? Were you cornered?

For whatever reason, the person on the other building continued firing, twice to be exact – yet both bullets hit the exact same spot as the first one. It didn’t make sense at all, but at least ir allowed keeping track of the opponent.

In a quick act, you moved, peeking just enough to expect to be fired at, but it never happened. Moving once again and receiving nothing in return, you positioned the sniper and looked through the sight for the nth time, trying to confirm if they were still on the same location. And that’s when you noticed.

A blue haired man peeking out, head cocked to the side, his sharp eyes and smirk offering a teasing, harmless expression.

Rage, disappointment and distrust overtook your body fast, blood boiling on a temperature higher than before. All emotions served as a strong reality check, a shot through the heart and mind, reminding of just who you were. They helped strengthen the invisible wall you were so desperately trying to weaken, ruining almost all of the progress made. Still, their consequences that will definitely leave a mark were your own fault and no one else’s.  

A drastic switch happened. While following Juyeon’s movements through the sight, you unconsciously aligned his head with the red dot in the middle. That person was suddenly someone who made you feel threatened, anxious, alarmed, and not the one who was supposed to help achieve change. You expected so much from him, yet all you currently felt was pure let down and anger. The inner battle was as hectic and loud as ever. A finger creeped up to the trigger, trembling as it came in contact with cold metal.  

Before the pull happened, your phone vibrated almost unnoticeably. It apparently did the right, desired trick, as it effectively broke the dangerous, fury-driven daze. With an audible sigh, you remembered who the actual target of the day was, aim moving downwards in a quick motion. Just as predicted and on time, a big black jeep turned the corner, driving into the street underneath you. Getting into a more comfortable position, you trailed the movement of the black vehicle.

First and only to come out of the car was the exact target. His appearance was immediately followed by two quick, (thanks to the silencers, somewhat) muffled gunshots, the bullets hitting just right. With two holes in his big shiny head, the man was sent falling down, momentarily holding onto the open door before faceplanting the cold concrete. Blood seeped out, painting the previously grey ground in a dark red, almost black color.

But the thing was, you only shot once.

Albeit caught off guard with the shocking realization, there was way too little time to get lost, every second more precious than the last one. Hurriedly, you deconstructed the sniper, pushing everything inside the guitar bag in a careless manner. When done, you moved towards the door and took the jammer off in record time before storing it inside the carriage as well.  

A quick glance was thrown in Juyeon’s direction, but unfortunately there was no sight of said man. For whatever reason, you were somewhat glad.

In a slow and relaxed manner, with calculated steps, you took the stairs again, making sure to appear just as natural and neutral as before. Thankfully, almost no one occupied the hallways. On the 5th floor, there were two elderly women happily boasting about their children, beside who you passed with a polite bow. You even smiled at them, but the expression was deemed unseen thanks to the black mask that covered your face.

Luckily, another semi-smooth mission was done with. You were out of the building and away from the scene in a couple of minutes, with no doubts about being seen or suspected. The only bothersome thing was the sudden change of feelings towards the blue haired man. A dangerous and slightly embarrassing switch could’ve had a very tragic outcome.

And of course, it wasn't worth missing out on the fact that for the first time, both had the same target.

You agreed on further meetings, although they were much different than those in the past. A drastic change in atmosphere was present from the first second, yet neither really wanted to comment on it. Despite being close physically, Juyeon didn’t feel warmth coming from you anymore, or at least not in the same amount as before. The male felt your body shiver under a cold gust of wind, but your skin didn’t feel any colder underneath his fingertips. When he tried offering you a jacket to cover up, you denied with a half-hearted smile.

It was unreasonably late, around three in the morning, which meant the city was at its calmest. There were less people on the streets than fingers on both hands and almost no apartments had their lights on. The moon was the most trustful source of light, its soft hues illuminating everything and making it more beautiful.

Nowadays, fewer words were exchanged as well. Silence was common, both bodies quietly cherishing what was left of a cracked relationship rather than trying to fix (or ruin?) it with meaningless talk. Leaned against the male’s shoulder, you tried forcefully letting go of tension to feel a piece of that carelessness that once existed between you. Truthfully, there was a willpower to continue fighting and experiencing the strange kind of joy, but there were so, so many obstacles. And most of them were created by you.

Neither had the explanation as to why this was still an ongoing thing, why neither gave up despite the little flame burning its last few seconds. No matter how long you searched for the answer, it just didn’t appear. A deep sigh resonated in a small bubble of space.

The biggest and constant bother was that invisible wall, still standing proud. Apparently, it grew taller and stronger every time you remembered the unfortunate event from two weeks ago. As time passed by, you became more skeptical, giving time and attention to thoughts you weren’t fond of. They whispered and laughed at a poor being for daring to experience something it wasn’t supposed to in the first place.

You didn’t even look Juyeon in the eyes anymore, always finding a nearby rock or wall crack a more attractive sight. Why? The fear of looking up and seeing no emotion in the man’s eyes was a fearful thought, mighty enough to forbid you from even trying. And why was it affecting you so much, why were you still holding onto it? You didn’t know.

Hell, your fucked-up mind was daring you to kill the man and he didn’t even know about it.

Juyeon, much like always, put more evident effort into the whole thing. It looked as if the male was aware of the trigger for this sudden stumble (not fall!), and was ready to give it his all to fix everything. Immense guilt was evident on his face, and if you looked up just once, you’d be able to read it off his beautiful features.

Despite your mental distancing and defiance, he never gave up transparently trying. You being there with him every night was all the hope Juyeon needed to continue. Even if you weren’t as willing to see him the next day, Juyeon would knock on your door. Even if you weren’t in the mood to talk, he’d ask a question about one of your favorite topics. The assassin wasn’t religious (and truthfully, how could he be?), but every night he’d pray for this tough period to end already. If for nothing else, then to have your eyes lock with his one last time.

Overall, these last few nights were a weird type of battlefield. Juyeon’s hand moved up to your shoulder, occasionally rubbing down your arm, hoping to feel just a bit of warmth there. You’d allow it, sighing and leaning into his hold, trying to, for the nth time, force a bit of feeling back.  

Either way, the two waited for a beautiful sunrise before disappearing in two different directions.

You should’ve believed the tension that thickened with each word the other said. You should’ve refused and backed out from this exact job when not even one person in the room appeared familiar. But it didn’t happen.

For the first time in an incredibly long time, the employers weren’t a part of a mafia or drug dealing gang. That much was disclosed, with a rude comment that it wasn’t your job to know anything more about them, anyway. It had your blood boiling and eyes squinting suspiciously, irises locking down every of the five men present.

Their detailing about the job that had to be done was just as, if not more, brief. Not believing that someone expected you to work properly with just three sentences of information, you asked a couple of times to have them repeated. Every time, the leader of the group sighed louder, eyes rolling back in an over-exaggerated manner, before turning around and giving a knowing look to the man beside. Were they joking around with you?

When asked about the basis behind this assassination, in hope of getting at least a little bit of early lead on who you’re dealing with, the man offered nothing useful in return. Instead of giving a proper reason, or at least putting effort into making a believable story up, he threw something senseless right at your face. Upon asking how you’re supposed to work without knowing how the target looks like, they replied with:

“They’ll be the only ones there, guaranteed. It's just a little game of hide and seek... with a twist. Isn’t that exciting?”

You were spared the detail that the target was just as (if not more,) experienced than you at these “murder plays”, and they demanded huge amounts of caution. Three main points were specified, the address, time and the fact that this was an extremely dangerous mission. The legitimacy of that information remained unknown, as they once again failed to give a coherent explanation. Despite the last point serving as a warning, you suddenly weren’t given a chance to back out.  

“Excuse me?” You said, disbelief all but dripping from those two simple words. “You’re sending me against another assassin, did I connect the dots correctly?”

“You’re a smart one”

“I don’t want to work on this case” You denied, getting ready to leave, when the other cleared his throat.

“We want this person taken out at any cost, and we particularly chose you for it. In the end, we did hear quite a lot of positive reviews... therefore you seem to be the right person, no?” The man tried flattering you, but his voice was laced with venom, lips moving slowly to form an unnatural, wicked grin. He wasn’t looking at you with fake friendliness anymore, rather an emotion that could soon turn dangerous.

“That doesn’t matter to me, I have the right to not accept the job. My signature is not yet written on the papers” A small pile of documents resting on the table was pointed at, endless rows of black text only missing a simple name written in ballpoint pen. The other chuckled lightly, gaze turning threatening in a blink time as he lifted a blue pen and spun it around his thick fingers.

“That’s easily dealt with” The weight of his words hit immediately, a shocking situation that you’re dealing with for the first time. There was no training for this and lack of experience was making you a nervous mess.  

Shuffling body mass from one leg to the other, your eyes remained on the ground, hands anxiously intertwining. There was nothing that came to mind that would help the current position, and you wondered what all of this was about. No one has ever forced you into working for them, much less threatened to sign the contract in your name.

The man chuckled once again, saying nothing but thinking a lot. This was it, they had you.

“Don’t you want this?” Another male spoke, his frame moving from the doorway and opening a black suitcase on the table. The carriage itself probably cost a fortune, as it was made of expensive leather, and the mouth-watering amount of money inside was as alluring as ever. It would probably be the best paid work ever. Still, you managed to look up from the bills and into the leader’s eyes with strong confidence.

“Does it even matter? You’re forcing me to do it anyway” The words barely made it past your tongue, their weight way too heavy. The freedom you had while working was something greatly cherished (for a lack of better words), and it was suddenly taken away. It almost felt as if nothing was in your power anymore. Fearful shivers ran down your spine.

“Well then, glad we got that behind ourselves. Sign here”

The whole process of sealing the deal was done in a matter of seconds. Your signature was scribbled in the ugliest way possible, and the pen was thrown to the other side of the room as a form of protest. The weak plastic broke due to the force of impact, the ink painting a patch of white wall blue. Turning around to leave, you stomped with heavy steps, glaring at each and every male in the room for the last time. Then, one step away from the doorway, you heard it.

Your name. Your real name.

The one no one ever used.

“Good luck, you’ll need it”

The door closed behind in a loud thud, not allowing you enough time to properly react. Just once your face hit the fresh air, did the heaviness of the decision fall upon your body. What have you done? Who were those people and why did they refuse to introduce themselves?  

Doubts filled your head – were your employers suddenly against you? Were they suddenly hyperaware of your knowledge, or scared that you’ll turn to the other side, become their enemy? Was this actually a ploy made to get you out of the game? The thought made you gulp audibly; wondering if but knowing that it was too late to turn around and tear the contract paper into thousands of pieces.

There’s also no way ditching the mission came into discussion. With the way they acted, god only knew if each and every step of yours was watched on. Holy shit.

The walk home was a long one, not particularly because time passed by slow, but because you purposely chose the longer path. Eyes filling with tears, your reaction was one of pity. Reaching up to brush the watery substance away from the corner of your eyes, you looked at the shiny finger. This was the first time in a long while that something managed to bribe out the emotion of grief. And for the first time ever, it was for no one else but yourself.

Tiny rocks sounded under your shoes just quietly enough to not ruin the perfect sneak up. The sky was grey, thin but overlapping clouds blocking sun from coming your way. Luckily, it meant you could move with more freedom, not having to worry about unnecessary shadows and their power to ruin cover.

The first abandoned building you were heading towards was huge, with main walls almost completely ruined. Chunks of concrete, bricks and other unnecessary trash created stable cover that you’d usually be thankful for, yet now dreaded.  

This was the exact address you were given, but the trick was that it happened to be a whole wide field with two abandoned buildings. On top of that, the opponent’s identity was still unknown, therefore you had no knowledge of who to look for and where. For all you knew, they could already be in position and aiming right at your head. “It’s just a little game of hide and seek, with a twist”. Instinctively, you ducked behind the nearest tree, feeling the heart strengthen its beats. Carefully and in calculated pace, the advance towards the entrance was continued.

There was a huge hole in the ceiling of every floor. It reached all the way up to the destroyed rooftop, almost as if something heavy fell from above and demolished the concrete surface. With back pressed flush against a piece of wall that still stood strong, you took a deep breath and reached down for a favorite of weapons, your trusted knife.

Suddenly, there was a strange type of noise coming from an unknown direction, resonating throughout the whole building. In the midst of a less careful and more panicked moment, while trying to retrieve the blade, it sliced through the delicate flesh of your calf. A quietly yelp of pain escaped your lips, hand immediately stretching to press on the wound. The feeling of blood running down your leg was accompanied by burning pain, and you tried ignoring it while climbing up the stairs.

Thanks to the special soft soles of the boots, your steps weren’t heard over the hard ground. They also didn’t put much force on your calf, therefore the advance to the 1st and 2nd floor went by almost without a problem. Occasionally, due to a bad step, the wound would reopen, another flow of blood quick to rush out along with a thousand silent curses.

The doorways on both floors were as demolished as the rest of the building, preventing anyone from walking through and forcing you to move up to the 3rd. Dodging and crouching down at places where you’d be exposed to the outside, you all but crawled up.

The third floor seemed different; way less disintegrated than the rest. Once there, you looked around and through the now available doorway. The corridor was very long, filled with wooden planks that once resembled doors leading to empty rooms. On the other side, about fifty meters away, there was another stairway, much like the one you took just now.

Alas, despite the burn in your calf, there was suddenly that alarming feeling of being watched.

Immediately ducking behind cover, you gripped the knife tight and took a few deep but quick breaths, planning the next move. Someone was definitely in there, and the rapid heartbeat was making sure you were constantly aware of it.

The feeling gradually subdued the more time passed by. You looked around attentively, once again taking notice of the still gaping hole on the ceiling. There was no one watching you through it though, so the trigger must’ve been from either outside or down the hallway. Remembering the noise from earlier, you completely crossed out the possibility of them being outside.

Which of course, wasn’t in your favor at all.

Peeking out just so the top of the head showed, you tried bribing out shots or any kind of attack from the other – something that would indicate where they were located. Receiving nothing in return was slightly confusing, but it also offered a pinch of hope. Maybe they moved, which meant you had a chance to sneak up behind them, or maybe they’re just hiding, which meant it could all go down very fast.

With a hurt leg that was slowly growing numb, there wasn’t a lot of time you had left before retreat was necessary. And never once did that happen. Therefore, trying to protect pride and get this done just to never see those nasty men again, you tried winging it. Pressing the wound one last time, you whispered a prayer before taking off through the open doorway.

There was just enough cover to move around in semi-safety, back turned towards one of the walls. Your eyes perceptively scanned every corner, every pile of rocks which could offer any type of protection. Occasionally, ignoring the pain, you’d jump inside one of the rooms to your right, hoping to catch the other off guard. The knife in your hands was gripped tight, leather handle shining slightly due to a thin layer of sweat coating it.

Tension was as high as ever, air becoming thick to an almost suffocating degree. For the first time, you felt undoubtedly scared. Your mind was clouded with a thousand racing thoughts, all of which only intensified the sensation of panic. The more time passed, the more your eyes aimlessly wandered around empty spaces, growing more tired and unable to notice possibly important details.

The amount of blood you lost was probably in the red zone, moving around becoming more challenging with every step. Still, doing the best possible job was always a requirement, therefore you used last spurts of strength to enter the 2nd to last room in the long hallway.

Once again met with a different terrain, you immediately noticed a demolished doorway, connecting the room to the one right beside. Upon quickly deeming the current room safe, you crouched down, sneaking towards the linking point. As if sensing danger, you patiently waited a couple of moments, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. If not for the protective leather handle, the blade would’ve sliced through your hand due to the impossibly strong grip.

Someone on the other side coughed. A curse followed right after.  

Both moved rapidly, reaching out for the other through the doorway.

You were held at gunpoint, jaw feeling the pressure of a cold muzzle on it, while a strong hand grabbed your hair, pulling it back. Your own hands grabbed the other’s collar, tugging down while holding the thin, sharp blade against their most sensitive point, Adam’s apple.

Neither moved.

Blue watched Red with surprised eyes, irises playing inside the broad space of dark brown. Your gaze tried locking the man down, scanning those beautiful features while still avoiding his sharp eyes. Unexpectedly, a weak wave of emotion hit, bringing back a piece of what you wanted for a very long time. There was a slight urge to reach out and caringly caress his sharp cheeks, cup his jaw and kiss his lips.

But there was a gun pressed against your skin, and a knife against his.

And neither moved.

The war started. Horrid battles began and ripped your heart piece by piece. Everything was on the line and an indecisive mind was as dangerous as ever. The realization that this man, despite everything that happened, was the last person you wanted to harm, hurt the most. It was the quick moment of reminisce about the old times, when everything was just starting. He was the only one who gauged new, thrilling, pleasant emotions and made them feel like they’re exactly what you needed. And it was the truth.

But the weight of the weapon on your jaw reminded of the not-so-bright moments as well. A flashback of the day you were teasingly shot at sent shivers down your spine, feelings of pure anxiety and fear coming back in an instant. Rightfully so, they were strong and rivaled the positive ones, trying to outweigh them and take control over your next actions. The man was still someone who dared pull the trigger on you, dared taking that type of unpredictable risk.  

If he dared pull it again, you dared slit his flawless, soft skin. But embarrassingly enough, you’d never have enough strength to be the first one, no matter how impulse-driven. Harming him definitely was your last wish. The thought of it even being a possibility made your eyes water, tears welling up and falling like never before, straining your soft cheeks.

Juyeon’s heart ached as well. Sadly, it opposed two separate and strong thunders. The first one hit hard, touching the intimate topic of his feelings towards you. It wasn’t a secret that you’ve changed him as well. In a word of gloom, blood and violence, you made everything disappear and instead of war, brought peace to his mind. Most of the time, it was enough for Juyeon to know that you were there, and every worry would fade away. The mutual understanding was then something he grew accustomed to and happy for. The male didn’t feel like he didn’t deserve attention anymore.

But what hit even harder was the fact that Juyeon was aware of your current thought process, and the guilt once again ate him away, bite by bite.

Carefully, the grip on your hair was released, gloved hand reaching up, thumb wiping a falling tear. Rough material nearly scraped your skin, a frown appearing on the other’s face almost immediately. Juyeon bit down on the glove, taking it off before placing his hand back on your warm cheek. The act made your eyes water even more, lips trembling and throat constricting to stop loud whimpers from escaping.

Still, the weapons didn’t move.

“Juyeon” You suddenly whined, finally finding strength to say his name. Lightheadedness was slowly overtaking your whole body, vision blurring fast. The pain in your leg although still present was long forgotten. Every letter carried huge weight, every taken breath felt like the last and you wondered if taking that bullet hurt any less. Unconsciously, your hand began shaking, resulting in the thin blade moving against the man’s delicate skin. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but Juyeon visibly and audibly gulped under the metal.

“They... they set us up to kill each other, Juyeon” The realization hurt like a sudden kick to the gut. It was supposed to happen sooner or later. All suspicions you weren’t willing to think about came out to be true and the terror spread through your body in a strong wave. Everything made sense – why those men weren’t willing to introduce themselves, why refusal wasn't an option and why no proper explanation was given to you. They were aware that if you knew even one of those things, you wouldn’t have dared to show up in the first place.

Or would you? Would they be able to push just the right buttons and play with your mind as they were right now?

You were set to break apart.

Do it. Don’t do it. Do. Don’t. Past and present were clashing together, habits and new found emotions. For the first time in a while, you felt somewhat disgusted with your job. Yet, the wheels were turning, reminding that you’ve been doing this for years and now was no time to give up under the pressure. It was so, so easy to end this all, much like hundred times before. Swallow down the hard feeling and contractions of your heart, cut through like you’re used to. Emotions were just an accident, an error in the system of a machine.

All this time though, Juyeon’s hand remained on your cheek, and only now was it only noticeable that he wasn’t holding you in place. The muzzle of the gun wasn’t as strong on your jaw as it was before. Juyeon wasn’t going to actively fight or harm you either, that much was clear. This had to end somehow, and the male was about to use his last possible chance.

“Look at me” The voice he said it with was soft, but underlined with a certain type of authority. For whatever reason, as if under a spell, your eyelids opened, irises immediately locking on his.

And then it all crashed down.

All the doubts and hesitation were immediately gone. Your hand moved, putting pressure on the weapon for just a quick moment before letting go completely. Heavy blade fell onto the ground with a loud and high-pitched noise, one that echoed throughout the whole building. The invisible wall was no more.

At the same time, Juyeon released the gun, hefty metal hitting concrete with just as loud of a thud. When the pressure disappeared and the current situation processed properly, your body went numb. Legs giving out, you almost collapsed on the ground. Luckily, Juyeon managed to catch you just in time. The male lowered the smaller body onto the ground, holding it carefully.

Your head hung low; eyes wandering all around the room, but not focusing on one spot. This was the first mission you’ve ever failed and the fear of possible consequences was scary.

Juyeon’s hands enveloped your face, just holding it firmly. Neither had an obvious cheerful expression, but there was a lack of certain something that made both seem more at ease. He caressed the soft skin, examining your face that was blank of any emotion. It was the moment of complete calm.

Upon focusing on the man, you noticed a clear red line just underneath his Adam’s apple. Instinctively, you reached out, running a smooth finger over it and listening to Juyeon’s strained hiss. A new wave of tears welled up in your eyes, yet the other was quick to wipe it away.

“Can you listen to me?” He questioned, with a gaze that suddenly turned more serious, albeit none the less caring. The breathing rhythm was slow and deep, almost as if he was trying to calm down in the fastest way possible. With a slight nod, you replied, hoping to keep enough consciousness to listen until the end.

“Let’s escape this hell” You would’ve definitely reacted greatly to the proposition, if it weren’t for the lack of energy in your body. Instead, the reply was a simple, perplexed look, a result of not quite processing what was talked about.

“Escape, disappear, perish, they’ll never know. They’ll never find us because... because they’ll think we’re dead. Isn’t that what they wanted? To wipe us off the list?” The tone Juyeon used was a hopeful one, as if the man already had everything planned and was ready to go right this second. And maybe, just maybe, that was the case.

“We’ll move countries and get new identities – I have a couple of friends that could and will help us with that. We’ll start a new life away from... away from all of this, because we can’t stay” Gradually, his words became more rushed, too many thoughts and too little time to wrap them up. “We can’t go back. They’ll kill us themselves, you know that, right?”

Juyeon was right. In the planned scenario, one of you was supposed to die today, while the other would’ve been finished off upon reporting the case. You’ve thought about it many times, making up scenarios and trying to find a way to get out of them. No one has ever trained you in that field or shown any ways of dealing with it, and there was an exact, fucked-up reason for it.

“Or we could just...” His eyes wandered off to the two weapons lying on the ground, tears welling up fast. There’s no way that was the only other option, yet...

For a moment, you glanced at the objects as well, not out of interest, but pure disgust. Just a mere thought of what could happen made your stomach twirl and heart hurt. Turning around to look at the other, you noticed a teardrop that made it down his jaw. Wiping it off gently, you smiled, speaking in a low and calm whisper.

“No... no. Let’s... let’s go. Let’s disappear together, wherever that takes us, Juyeon” The mind finally accepted the sudden feelings that were no longer confined and hidden. The imaginary, but nonetheless strong, cage and restrictions were no more. You finally felt proper euphoria of freedom.

Speechless, but immensely happy, that’s what Juyeon was in that exact moment. His chest abruptly wasn’t enough space for the organ that beat at an incredible pace, with new-found strength. Tightening his hold, the male pulled you towards his chest, into a first, proper hug. Your hands sneaked around his body, trying to squeeze as hard as possible and relish the beautiful moment. In such an intimate position, it was possible to feel that exact excited heartbeat of the male.

After a long period of comfortable silence, you quietly spoke into his chest, “Please piggyback me... wherever... I don’t think I can walk”  

“Oh my god, you’re hurt?!” Juyeon noted in an alarming tone, eyes immediately scanning your body and finally noticing a streak of red liquid on the concrete underneath your leg. He loudly cursed at himself for not seeing it earlier, hand reaching down to press on the wound. Although not fresh, it still gushed out more blood, earning another hiss from you.

“Yeah, no shit mister... fuck be careful! I wouldn’t go all baby... and soft on you if I... I didn’t feel like fainting. You were lucky today” You bit back jokingly, trying to keep the light atmosphere that was slowly coming down its high. Juyeon’s head shook at that, a quiet ‘you’re not in position to speak like that’ passing through his barely parted lips. A pair of hands worked fast on tying a thin jacket around your calf to stop further bleeding.  

“How?” He asked, confused but curious at the same time.

“I’d rather not talk about it” Your head turned away from the other, irises locking onto one of many holes on the wall. The male chuckled at that, checking the knot before standing up with knees half bent. He helped you stand up and climb up on his back, strong arms instantly gripping the back of your thighs.

“Bet you hurt yourself, clumsy”

“Yeah, bet”  

With a loud, content sigh, your head lowered onto Juyeon’s back, eyes closing as you finally drifted off to sleep. There, on the closed, but broad battlefield, the two warriors accepted their faith. They made up their minds for a different future, something neither were sure how to approach, but were more than ready to experience together. A future that didn’t revolve around blood, murder and secrecy, one that would allow both to heal and live their lives breathing properly.

Quatervois, a heavy change no one expected. A decision made fast, but a result of long, aimless thought and experience. And some may say this was deemed to happen sooner or later, but was it? If things were just slightly different...  

Guess we would never know.

AN: well... here it is? truthfully speaking, i’m very satisfied with this work, and i love every piece of it, but it has been giving me so much stress oh my god... writing has taken me so much time because i tried so hard to make it perfect and i really hope reading almost 22k of this was worth it, and that you’ve enjoyed it. at some parts, i’ve maybe focused on the main female character too much, but i think that to understand her character, it’s important to have an in-depth point of view. i’d really appreciate it (to the moon and back) if you guys could leave feedback for this one. thank you so so so much for reading, have a good day <3

#juyeon #lee juyeon #tbz #the boyz #juyeon tbz #juyeon the boyz #juyeon fanfic #juyeon scenario #juyeon angst #juyeon drama #juyeon fluff #juyeon smut #the boyz scenario #the boyz fanfic #the boyz angst #the boyz drama #the boyz fluff #the boyz smut #tbz fanfic #tbz angst #tbz fluff #tbz drama #tbz smut #tbz scenario #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop drama #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop scenario

[thelittlestcheshire]

Self Para 008: I Don’t Pretend to Know the Challenges You’re Facing Word Count: 2024 words When: July 2020, in the early hours of July 19th during Ches’s birthday trip Note: I decided I’m going to queue up and post one of the old self paras I never posted, Feel free to skip it, since it’s a past event and stuff. TWs: Rape (mentioned / discussed), Anxiety Attacks, Alcoholism / Drinking, Hangovers, Vomitting, Death, suicide (not exactly but there’s a definite apathy towards the idea of death this as well so better safe than sorry), murder (her mother)

There was a loud thud as a purse landed on the suite’s floor as Ches stumbled through the front door. She knew she shouldn’t have gone to galaxy edge before closing for drinks, but she was desperate to feel good. Yet, no matter how much she drank today, she didn’t feel the happiness that tended to run through her veins. She felt worse and worse. Even the sight of the balloons in the living room from Emmett and his girlfriend didn’t bring any sort of joy.

It was her fault her mother died; she should have been here instead of Ches. And the more gifts she received, the more she thought back to why her mother was dead. If she hadn’t gone to get gifts for Jonah... it felt like the room was spinning as the thought came back. Wait, no, the room was definitely spinning.

“Hey Ches, sorry I needed to- fuck.” Zander had just come out from the living room, likely taking her up on his offer to hide, but his attempt to avoid people is forgotten by the time he reaches her. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” There were two of him by the time he wraps an arm around her to support her. “It’s been a long night.” He starts to lead her to her bedroom, and it’s hard to keep her feet under her as they walk. But he saves her from crashing to the floor and manages to get her on the bed.

“It wasn’t a night.” She slurs at him as she rests her head against her pillow. “Sky and I, you know. Club 33.” She knew the look on his faces even through the intoxicated haze. She knew he wasn’t happy about this. “I’m okay.” She informs him, starting to sit up. The room begins to move again, and for a moment, she feels like she might just be sick. She moves quickly, barely making it to the toilet before she vomits. Zander quickly behind her to hold back her hair. “See, fine.” She gets out weakly as she flushes the toilet.

“Definitely not fine.” He disagrees as he smooths out her hair. “I’m staying with you tonight, at least until you feel better.” It’s obvious she had no say in the matter, and she doesn’t waste the energy to protest. She slowly gets up, nearly falling face-first as she attempts to reach the bathroom sink to brush her teeth. He’s there in an instant to keep her from tumbling. Perhaps he had a point. She accepts the assistance as she brushes her teeth and doesn’t fight him as he leads her back to the bed and messes with all her pillows to ensure she’s propped up on her side.

“I hate you.”  

The words just slip off her tongue. Not how she genuinely felt in the slightest. Zander doesn’t seem to take offense. However, he just runs his fingers through her hair. “I know, I know. I’m the worst. Time for you to sleep.” He whispers back to her. She frowns, but she shuts her eyes, anyway. She’s not sure how long it takes: perhaps it’s minutes, maybe it was hours, but eventually she falls asleep.

—

Opening her eyes felt like literally crawling out of a grave when she finally does wake up, the only light shining was from a phone beside her. “Turn that damn thing off. It hurts,” Ches grumbles, the man beside her laying on top of her blankets complies. “What time is it anyway?”

“4 am, give or take.”

Zander’s answer only causes her to groan as she fixes her pillows the way she likes them. “Shit. No wonder I feel like I was run over by a freight train.” She continues to adjust her pillows, settling into a comfortable spot as she rolls over onto her back.

“No, I think that’s thanks to Club 33.” Zander gives her a pointed look. How did he even know she’d gone drinking there? That she had a membership at all for that matter. “I could pay for the entirety of my college tuition with how much you’ve spent on this trip. Couldn’t I?” There was something about his tone that feels off, that despite his words, it wasn’t the Disneyland trip he was frustrated with at the moment. “You’re spiraling again. The fancy trip, the mass text about Leo, the drinking. Fuck, everything that’s occurred since you came back to Luxor. Spring break, prom, open house. What’s going on?” Of course, he’d notice things weren’t right. Her luck couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“It’s the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death.” The excuse slides off her tongue quickly. But even in the dark, she could make out the look on his face. He knew she was lying, and yet she didn’t change her tune. She couldn’t. After what happened with Lucy, she wasn’t going to tell anyone about that ever again. “Zander, that’s all there is to everything. Drop it.”

He opens his mouth as if he had something to say, but he quickly shuts up. After a few seconds where it looks like he’s not going to push, she takes a breath. But her relief is short-lived when he finally speaks. “Has anyone ever mentioned you crinkle your nose when you lie?”

“I do not!” She protests immediately. Did she really have such an obvious tell? “I’m not lying. That’s really all there is to it. Please.” The word sounds like a plea, and as she hears it, she can’t help but dread him picking up on it. She didn’t need to give him more to question when he was already treading into territory she couldn’t stand to think about. How could she discuss it again? She barely got through it with Lucy.

“Okay, I just have one more question then. Why is your father spending so much money on you lately? Taking the entire school to Disneyland, a suite just for you to hide in, him showing up to graduation. Your Club 33 membership cost could be a household’s entire annual salary, There has to be a reason he’s tossing money at you so aggressively.”

The question causes her blood to run cold. What was she supposed to say? That his father suddenly saw the error of his ways became invested in her life. The lie didn’t even seem plausible, let alone believable. The entire truth hurt too much to think about; she didn’t want to get into the reasons. The best she could offer was the truth, without any details. “He feels guilty.”

“About your mom?” Zander’s voice is so soft, and as the slight hint of guilt starts to leak into it, she can feel her heart starting to break. He was too good to her, too safe, and he doesn’t even hesitate as she moves closer to him on the bed and tries to crawl into his arms. As she starts to sob, he just accepts that right now she needed someone to hold her. “I’m sorry, Chessie. I-”

“It’s not about maman, Zan. When I was home I had to attend his dinner parties, and his VP, he-” She can’t even finish getting the words out as she starts to sob, as the panic sets in and she clings tighter to him. The thought of that evening made her wish she could carve off her skin as if it’d erase the memories of that night from her mind. The more she remembers, the harder it feels to gasp for air, and the faster she breathes as her eyes rapidly search for the nearest escape route.

“Ches, hey. It’s okay, you’re okay.” His voice is gentle as he starts stroking her hair again. For a moment, she goes completely still as she tries to remind herself this was Zander. “You’re safe, I promise. Nobody’s going to hurt you here.” She focuses on the sound of his voice as he tries to comfort her, and slowly, but surely, oxygen is easier to catch. The fear was still lingering; the urge to flee and never look back was overwhelming. “You don’t have to say anything, okay.”

“Look where not saying anything got me, Zander.” She snaps at him, the words just coming out suddenly. “He fucking raped me, and I have to- no, I’m expected to just stay quiet and move past it. Sometimes I’m not sure if the money is because my dad is upset it happened or to keep my mouth shut. You know, he was the one who made me drop the charges.” She still could remember that talk with her father. She could shut her eyes and picture it as if it was five minutes ago still, her father pacing around the living room in their penthouse looking almost as disheveled as he had at her mother’s funeral, practically begging her to let him handle this behind closed doors because he didn’t think she’d survive a trial. “Said he thought I’d kill myself if we went to trials, he handled it behind the scenes.”

“It’s out of love, either way, I think,” Zander says gently as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to speak at all. Honestly, Ches isn’t sure she wants him to talk either. The last time she’d discussed it, she hadn’t felt any better. In ways, she felt worse - guilty for burdening Lucy with something so heavy she couldn’t explain to anyone else.

“I know.”

The words are hard for her to get out, even if it’s the truth. She knew that her father loved her, even when it sometimes felt like he didn’t care nearly enough. Perhaps, in its own fucked up way, this was his way of showing he cared. Her father’s actions weren’t out of ill intent.

“I’m sorry that you’re going through this, you had a horrible year.” He wasn’t wrong about that, the more she thought about it, the more she realized seventeen had truly sucked. “But, you can’t destroy yourself in your attempts to cope. I can’t figure out how you got back without hurting yourself. That’s an issue.”

“It’s not a deal-breaker.” As Ches continues to calm down slowly, the realization she’s trembling begins to dawn on her. “I don’t care if I die, you know.”

“Well I do. Lucy and Avery do, and Elliot would be devastated, so that’s not an option, for starters. So this shit needs to stop.” Zander’s voice is firm, almost like when Logan had no other choice but to scold them. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but this isn’t the answer, Hailey.”

For a brief moment, she considers saying something about her first name, but she doesn’t. She was too drained to fight with him over it. The use could be tolerated for one night. “You can’t tell anyone, Zander. The only person who knows is Lucy.” She says instead as she pulls herself out of his arms to lay in bed again.

“And your therapist?”

“Doesn’t know anything either.” She shuts her eyes as she says the word. Of course, she didn’t go to her therapist about this; it felt too painful to revisit, too heavy to bring words to at times. “Just promise me, Zander.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She can feel him moving on the bed beside her to start to get up as he says the words, her arm quickly reaching out to stop him. “But, I think you need to talk to your therapist. And-”

“Okay.” She agrees. “But, can you stay? I don’t want- I can’t be alone right now. Please?” The boy stops trying to move at her confession, the admittance she needed someone there. “I think being alone is a bad idea, and I don’t think I can ask Elli to-”

“I’ll stay, as long you need me to.”

She doesn’t say anything as she moves her arm back to her side of the bed. For a moment, she wonders if he’ll question it, but soon the only noise is the sound of his phone unlocking as the two settle into a comfortable silence.

#you know i adore queue #all of my heroes died all alone ( musings ) #a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you ( self paras ) #events ( ches's birthday 2020 ) #rape tw #vomiting tw #vomit tw #anxiety tw #anxiety attack tw #alcoholism tw #alcohol tw #drinking tw #all you cool people better leave now 'cause it's about to happen ( balo | zander ) #death tw #suicide tw #murder tw

[redhoodssweetheart]

Common Enemy (2/??)

Genre: Angst with an eventual happy ending, Enemies-to-Friends-to-Lovers

Relationship: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral!Reader

Requested: Yes (REQUESTS ARE CLOSED)

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: Angst, blood mention, swearing

Description:  Red Hood doesn’t seem to trust you and you don’t get why.  He’s a complete ass to you, but you’re determined to prove him wrong and show him that you deserve to be a hero like Batman and the others.

A/N:  I’m kinda back!  I finished the book I was trying to finish and now I’m going to try and work on my fics that need updates and such.  I might not start taking requests for a bit, but I am open to suggestions on things that y’all would like to see!

The sunshine warmed your face as you headed down the street toward your favorite coffee shop.  Fall was fast approaching and you wanted to enjoy the last vestiges of summer for a long as you could before the bitter cold of winter came.  You had decided that today was going to be a good day.  You had managed to wake up on time, your boss had let you go early, and tonight you were going to Wayne Manor to have game night with your boys.

You weren’t sure when they had become yours but they were family to you now.

As you approached the coffee shop you peered in through the window and saw Tim standing in line with someone slightly taller than him.  You could see Tim’s profile as he spoke to the man beside him, but you couldn’t see the others face.  Just slightly long, black hair and broad shoulders.  You squinted, there was something familiar about the man and that was when he turned his body shaking with laughter.

The air seemed to leave your lungs as you beheld the man under the Red Hood façade.  

Jason fucking Todd.

You thought he was dead.  Everyone had heard the story about how Bruce Wayne’s son had been killed.  How was he here?  How was he Red Hood?  You backed away from the window, your mouth hanging open as the sounds of the busy city around you melted away to a dull ringing in your ears.

Tim and Jason must have felt your eyes on them because they turned and saw you gaping at them.  Before they could react you turned and ran down the street, pushing past other pedestrians.

For the better part of a year, you had wondered who was behind the mysterious Red Hood.  For a year you had been harassed by Jason Todd.  You paused around the corner of the building and leaned against it, your eyes falling shut and letting out a puff of breath.

“And why are you running away from me, sweetheart?”  Your eyes flew open at the sound of his voice.  He was standing before you, one arm braced against the wall, his green eyes peering down at you, a smirk on his face.

You frowned, “I wasn’t running from you.”

His smirk only seemed to grow at the lie that tumbled from your lips, “Are you sure about that?”

Tim caught up just as you pushed Jason back.  “Y/N!”  He said as he pulled you away from Jason.  He could see the murderous intent in your eyes.  “Come on, let’s go get some coffee and leave Jay here to his next task.”  You didn’t miss the way Tim glared at his brother.

“What’s the rush, Timmy?  I didn’t get my coffee either, maybe I’ll join you,” you wanted to punch that stupid smirk right off his face.

“Listen here Todd,” you spat as you pointed a finger at him.

“Y/N,” Tim tugged you back, he knew that you and Jason had a less than stellar relationship when you only knew him as Red Hood, but he wondered what things would be like now that you realized who Red Hood actually was.

You shook Tim off, “You know what, Tim?  I’m not really in the mood for coffee right now.  I’ll take a raincheck and we can have some on another day when you aren’t out for brotherly bonding time.”  Jason’s eyes never left yours as you spoke, and his smirk didn’t go anywhere either.  “And I’ve suddenly felt a headache coming on so I don’t think I’ll be able to make game night either.”

“Y/N,” Tim sounded dejected as you stormed off.  He turned to his brother.  “Do you really have to antagonize them like that, Jay?”

Jason’s eyes followed you until you disappeared around the corner of a building.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about Timmy.”  Then he headed back toward the coffee shop with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.  “You coming or what?”

Tim let out a defeated sigh and hurried to catch up to Jason.

 Night had fallen and you were curled up on your couch in your favorite PJs watching a movie on Netflix when you heard tapping at your window.  Expecting it to be Damian or Tim come to check on you, you paused the movie and went to check.  Instead, you were greeted by the man who had become a pain in your ass.

“What the fuck do you want, Todd?”  You asked as you shoved open the window to let him in.

He maneuvered himself through the window and pulled off his hood, “I came to check up on you, sweetheart.  Seemed kinda mad when you left earlier.”

You narrowed your eyes, “I wonder why.”

He made a tsking sound, “You don’t have to be so hostile toward me.  We’re friends aren’t we?”

“Friends!”  You spluttered as he moved deeper into your apartment.  “Where the hell did you get that idea?  Because if memory serves me correctly you once told me that I was nothing but an attention seeker who wanted to become a masked vigilante for the fame.”

He hopped over your couch and put his feet up on the table stealing some of the snacks you had laid out.  “And?  I didn’t know you.  I didn’t trust you.  Who’s to say you weren’t just after fame from becoming a masked superhero?”

“You never gave me a chance to prove you wrong!”  You cried in outrage.

Jason looked at you and for a moment you wished you could see his green eyes again behind the domino mask.  “You weren’t family, I didn’t have to trust you or even give you a chance.”

You placed your hands on your hips, “What’s it going to take for you to trust me, Red?”

He paused, a piece of popcorn halfway to his mouth, “Who says that I don’t trust you?”

“You haven’t really shown me that you do, so I’m assuming you still don’t trust me,” you said.

“Why’d you go after Damian alone the other night?”  He asked, changing the subject on you.

“Because he needed help and I wasn’t about to leave him alone to the Joker,” you said without hesitation.

“Suit up, there’s something I want to show you,” he instructed.

“I’m not a dog, you can’t just order me around,” you shot at him, but curiosity was getting the better of you and you headed for your bedroom.

Jason's hood was already back on when you exited from your bedroom and you followed him out the window into the dark night of Gotham.  The two of you leapt from roof to roof until you made it back to the circus where Joker had been hiding out.  Most of it had been burnt to the ground or cleared out by the GCPD.

“Did the others ever tell you what happened to me?”  He asked as he strode forward.  No one was here, the Joker had gotten away and wouldn’t risk coming back to this spot now.

You followed after him heading into the big top which was half lying in ruin from the fire.  “No, they didn’t,” you wondered where he was going with this.

“I didn’t actually die like the papers said.  No one could know how I actually died,” the last word came out bitter and you could still hear some vestiges of pain in his voice.  “Joker had captured me one night, beat me within an inch of my life with a crowbar.  He laughed the entire time, like the sick son of a bitch he is.  Before Batman could get to me the building Joker had left me in blew up.”  Your eyes widened and you bit your lip to keep from gasping.  “Ra’s, he… he brought me back.  I was different, still am if I’m being honest.”

“Why are you telling me this?”  You asked him softly.

He turned to you, and you wished that you could see his face, see the look that was hidden beneath the red metal helmet.  “The night we met the others told me what had happened to you.  I still didn’t trust you, but I will begrudgingly admit that I trust you now.  And I want your help tracking Joker down.”

“I’m not going to kill him,” you said.  You knew what type of justice that the Red Hood usually dished out and you weren’t going to be a part of that.  “I don’t play that way.”

“I know,” he said, nodding slightly.  “And I wouldn’t ask that of you.  But I want this psycho off the streets and I know that you do as well.  Help me stop him, after all, he is our common enemy.”

You know what it meant for Jason to be offering this to you.  The olive branch he was extending to you.  “If I agree I want you to stop treating me like I’m an outsider.  I’ve proven my worth and I won’t stand around and be bullied by you.”

“Sweetheart, trust me I wouldn’t dream of bullying you.”

You lifted your chin and said, “All right.  I’m in.  Where do we start?”

 There was a banging on your door and you groaned as you pulled your pillow over your head to muffle the sound.  Whoever it was would go away eventually and you could get back to sleep.  “Sweetheart get your ass up!”  At the sound of Jason’s voice, your eyes popped open and you sat up straight.

What the hell was he doing here?

Better yet, why the hell was he here?

You got up and quickly pulled the door open before your nosey, older neighbor called the landlord on you, or tried to come out and converse with Jason.  God forbid she ask him if he was your boyfriend.  If that happened you were pretty sure you’d rather the floor open up and swallow you whole.

“I didn’t realize that having a truce with you would mean you would wake me up at the asscrack of dawn, Todd,” you said by way of greeting.

That cocky grin was back and this time your heart did things in your chest.  Well, that was weird.  “Can’t friends share breakfast?”  He held up a bag from McDonald’s and you eyed it, your stomach grumbling as the smell of food hit you.  His grin only seemed to grow when he heard it.

“Fine, but I get first dibs of whatever you’ve got in there,” you snatched the bag away and left him to close the door behind him.  “But seriously why are you here?”

He pulled out a chair at your kitchen table and took a seat waiting for you to finish rifling through the bag and getting out whatever you wanted.  “Thought with our newfound friendship and all I could come over and bring breakfast.  Plus extend an invitation to game night since you called out last night.”

You passed him the bag and asked what he wanted to drink.  “Is that the only reason?”  You peered at him over the refrigerator door.

“Maybe I wanted to see what you looked like first thing in the morning, sweetheart.”  That made you choke on your own spit and had him chuckling.  “Something wrong?”

“Asshole,” you shot.  “I’m not up for flirting today, Todd so spit it out or get lost.”

He shrugged and dug into his breakfast, “Maybe I just wanted to hang out.”

“Most people call first,” you grumbled as you also started eating.

“Really then why am I always seeing memes about best friends showing up at one another’s apartments and houses?”

“I’m sorry did I miss the announcement in the paper where it said we had become best friends?”  You were grinning at him now wondering where he got this much bravado from.

“Would you like me to put an announcement in the paper because I just gotta call someone at the Gotham Times and it's done,” he looked so serious that you couldn’t contain your laughter.

“Are all the Waynes dramatic like this?  Is it just a family trait that I will somehow inherit from how much time I am spending with you all?”

“Dramatic?  Sweetheart, I will have you know that most people would find me incredibly charming,” he said with mock hurt.

You hummed and stood from the table, clearing away your dirty dishes, “I have yet to see the charm.”

“Well apparently I haven’t been trying hard enough to charm you,” he had leaned back in his chair.  “Maybe I should take you out and give you the full Jason Todd experience.”

You scoffed, “I don’t know, cheap beer at a dive bar and ride on your motorcycle doesn’t really sound all that appealing when I can just do that exact same thing with Dick.”  You were taunting him now, liking this new version of banter the two of you were sharing.  

It was so different from your usual banter and it had butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Oh sweetheart, I have a few tricks up my sleeves.”  He stood and boxed you in, his arms on either side of you, trapping you against the counter.  “So what do ya say?  You.  Me.  A date this coming Friday.  I’ll show you just how well I can sweep you off your feet.”

You weren’t going to back down from this.  It was a challenge, “How about we make a little wager, Todd?”

His eyes lit up with intrigue, “Name your price.”

“If I don’t have a good time you have to clean my suits for a month.”  That was your least favorite job when you got home from patrol, especially if you or someone else had bled on your suit.

“All right and if I win and you do enjoy yourself I get an undisclosed favor.”

“Deal,” and with the bet in place the two of you shook on it.

#Jason Todd x Reader #Jason Todd x Reader fluff #Jason Todd x Reader angst #Red Hood x Reader #Red Hood x Reader fluff #Red Hood x Reader angst #Jason Todd #Jason Todd fluff #Jason Todd angst #Jason Todd fanfic #Jason Todd fanfiction #Red Hood #Red Hood fluff #Red Hood angst #Red Hood fanfic #Red Hood fanfiction #DC Comics #DC Comics fanfic #DC Comics fanfiction #requested

[crimsonrae]

The Wiles of Men and Women

Chapter Two

Summary: Georgiana Stafford has just become betrothed to a man older than her father. Her last chance to enjoy society on her terms comes the night that court celebrates the birth of Princess Mary. She was prepared for just about anything, but she hadn't been prepared for him. Charles Brandon.

CharlesxOC, 

Rated: Mature

A/N: I have had a fair bit of interest in this story continuing so, I am now working on an outline. Here is Chapter Two in the meantime. Thank you to everyone who liked and showed support on that first chapter. I really appreciate it :) Let me know if you would like to be tagged. 

@wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @cavillhavoc​ @omgkatinka​ @promptandpros​ @multixwolf​

Little Lamb's Courtly Introduction

She was nervous.

Georgiana hadn't expected to be. Her introduction to court, to the king, was to be brief. An announcement really, before Worcester and her father made the declaration of marriage to the king. She expected to be largely ignored through the whole ordeal. Perhaps a mild curiosity amongst the other members of court for being the new introduction and intended of another, but rather insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

She swallowed against her bitter resentment as anticipation of dismissal began to build. Women weren't interesting unless they were spreading their legs for someone. Something she had learned from her mother which had only been reinforced by every male she had ever met. Part of her still puzzled over why Lord Somerset had agreed to the engagement. He had several sons already, so he had no need for an heir. The only thing she could think of was her dowry, that perhaps Worcester was on the brink of financial ruin. Though if that were the case, she doubted her father would have made the arrangement.

No, her nervousness had little to do with her moment in court, though some part of her did feel sick at being treated as a prized mare. Her nervousness was more basic and, in some respect she knew, more foolish. What was worse she had no one to blame for her anxiety, but herself... and Charles Brandon. Not that he was aware of the damaged his carnal desires had wrought on her body, though she suspected he wouldn't much care. She was in a bit of a plight, however.

Upon returning to her chambers in the wee hours of the morning, Georgiana had quickly placed her gown out of sight and did her best to clean herself without access to a tub. In those late hours, she had been too leery of waking a servant or worse garnering the attention of her father or uncle to light a lamp and had simply done what she could without taking stock of her physical being. She had only received a few hours of sleep, intent to rise before her family, and dress without help. She only realized her mistake in succumbing to lustful games when she had gotten out of bed.

Georgiana had gasped and nearly cried out in pain when she had shifted to sit. Not even stand, but sit. Somehow, she had forgotten about the tanning her behind received in her haste to retire for the night. Fire crackled and stung her backside, but that was almost pleasant when compared to the piercing soreness between her legs. It was almost as if Charles was still inside her... or maybe it was that he was not in her. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes as she forced herself to stand. Every shift and step brought an almost unbearable amount of discomfort.

Her monthly cramps were more tolerable. She tried in vain to relax, hoping mildly that moving would subdue the worse of the hurt. Again, she found herself wondering if sex was always like this. A few hours ago, it had been pleasurable and fun... this? This was not pleasurable or fun. Yet, oddly she had an ache to be filled again. She felt strangely empty now and like her hopes for her pain to subside, she hoped that eventually, this new feeling would too subside if she ignored it long enough.

After a few more tentative steps, Georgiana was before her dressing mirror. The arbitrary thought that she may look different now played at the back of her mind. It was a foolish thought, except it wasn't. Muted horror gleamed in her blue stare as she surveyed the bruises that littered her hips and chest...even her neck was marked. She swore that the heat from her bottom rushed to her cheeks at that moment.

Her gown would cover most of the marks, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember if her dress had a high or low neckline. She prayed it was high because her hair was to be pinned and there was no other way that she could hide the love bites on her neck.

Her father was going to murder her.

She swallowed tightly against the rising panic, turning pale almost as quickly as she had flushed. How could she have let this happen? She knew the importance of today. She knew what type of scrutiny she would be under. Georgiana suddenly cursed herself for giving in to her desires to break the rules last night. She had a month before the wedding, surely another opportunity to rebel would have presented itself before then. Why had she so stupidly chosen last night?

Whining lightly under her breath, she quickly scampered for her trunk and immediately regretted it as hot pain stabbed her core. Oh, she would kill Mr. Brandon if she saw him today, she swore it.

Allowing herself to cringe now while she was alone, her movements became a contrasting juxtaposition of hasty and ginger. She pulled out a new chemise and petticoat before pulling out her gown and nearly sighed in relief as she noted the neckline did have a high collar to it. Her father would want to present her as a modest young virgin – nothing represented that more than clothing that would be suitable in a nunnery. Part of her would enjoy the lie of that image today, even as she tried to figure out how to walk without waddling.

It took her longer than she expected to dress without the help of a servant, but she managed to finish just as the door to her chamber swung open and a young woman and her father entered. She barely spared a glance to the former, her focus firmly on her father.

His eyes were red-rimmed bespoken of a late night drinking, but that would disappear with an indulgent breakfast. Georgianna knew her father's habits well. His gaze glimmered in silent satisfaction at her as he took in her state of dress, "You're awake early. I thought I would need to drag you from the bed with the way you had bemoaned leaving Wiltshire."

Georgiana forced a faint smile to her face, "You know I can't abide being idle."

Henry snorted, "True. I half expected you to sneak into the celebration last night, your uncle had money on it, in fact."

She barely kept from rolling her eyes even as she ignored a wary noxious turn of her stomach, "I'm sure you'd enjoyed gloating over him losing, father."

"I will soon enough." Henry intoned quietly, almost suspiciously as he gestured to the servant, "This is Kitty, she'll see to your needs while we're here. Join your uncle and I for breakfast once you're finished."

"Of course, father." Georgiana murmured.

"My daughter." Her father mused before stepping forward to press a kiss to her forehead. An ominous note lingered in his tone, "You'll do the family proud today."

The silent threat to behave went unacknowledged.

She merely offered another smile as he stepped back and eyed her curiously, "The air must agree with you here. You've a glow about you. Or perhaps you're just excited for your moment to shine."

Another pang of panic made her heart lurch, but she kept her features bland as she shrugged, "Perhaps."

Henry had stopped listening, however, already retreating to the shared common room of their quarters, "Don't tarry, we have much to do today."

Her door was shut before she had a chance to reply. She turned wary eyes onto the servant and was rewarded with a smile reminiscent of the one she had just given her father, "Kitty, was it?"

"Katerina, Milady." Katerina curtsied faintly as she waited for instructions.

Georgiana sighed, "If you'll help me with my hair, I'd be much obliged."

"Of course, milady."

Georgiana slowly made her way to the dressing table, rather too aware of the other woman's eyes on her. A dawning dread burbled in her belly as she realized she would need to sit. The thought almost brought frustrated tears to her eyes as she gazed grudgingly at the stool. The servant must think her mad by the dark glare on her face, but Georgiana bit her tongue and eased herself down. The burn in her backside reignited and she had to swallow her moan.

She wished a long, tormented death on Charles.

Katerina watched her curiously but was of mind enough not to say anything. Instead, she waited until Georgiana was situated and began to gather up her soft tresses to be plaited and pinned. A dark bruise peaked ever so slightly out of the edge of the collar. Katerina pursed her lips at the sight and adjusted her pinning to cover the mark.

"Pardon my frankness, milady, but was it your first time?" Katerina asked in a whisper.

Georgiana lifted her gaze to the looking glass in a scrutinizing glare, "My first -"

Her voice cut off as Katerina subtly moved her hair and another mark was displayed. A deep blush scoured her cheeks and she held her breath and uttered quietly, "Please don't say anything."

"Of course not, milady." Katerina assured. Georgiana wasn't the first noble lady she had served to have affairs and she knew better than to spread rumors. Gossiping servants didn't last long in the palace, "Was it...?"

There was a brief moment of hesitance before Georgiana nodded.

Katerina hummed understandingly, "It can be painful, especially if the man doesn't have a care. I can get you a warm compress. It'll help, but you should soak tonight, milady."

"...I didn't. I didn't tell him that I was..." Georgiana took a shuddering breath, having trouble admitting to her foolishness, "My intended is older than my father, I just wanted a good first experience."

A sympathetic twinkle entered the other woman's gaze, before she whispered cautiously, "Was it?"

Georgiana couldn't keep the pleased grin from her face and Katerina giggled, "I'm glad, milady. Drink the tea that I'll bring to your breakfast it'll stave off any unwanted surprises."

"Surprises?" Georgiana asked bemused until Katerina made a gesture of a swollen stomach. Suddenly, she felt like a dullard... she had forgotten that aspect of copulation, "Oh...oh, thank you, Katerina."

Katerina nodded and continued her work. Every so often Georgiana worked up the nerve to ask a question. Slowly, she gained her first confidant within the King's Palace.

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"Charles!"

The sound of the King's voice rang out through the hall, unusually jovial for so early in the day. Charles turned and smiled with a faint bow as his monarch and friend approached him, "Your Majesty, good morning."

"It is a good morning, isn't it?" Henry questioned with a rakish grin. It was all Charles needed to know that the King had his own bedroom delights satisfied the prior night. He playfully nudged Brandon's shoulder as he gestured for them to continue, "You left the festivities early last night."

There was a faint note of accusation in his tone that Charles was hard-pressed to miss. He grimaced internally, he hadn't meant to insult Henry by his departure, "A celebration of a different kind lured me away, I'm afraid."

The King's brow rose as his eyes began to shine with amusement, "This celebration wouldn't happen to be in the shape of a woman, would it? About chin height? Pouty lips? Lovely blue and grey gown that accentuated some even lovelier assets?"

Charles chuckled, knowing he had already been forgiven. Of course, nothing seemed to get passed Harry, even when he had been knee-deep in the cups, "That would be the one, sire."

"Anthony was quite cross with you." Henry murmured with sage pleasure as he recalled the annoyed expression on their friend's face, "I believe he had been trying to lure her away himself when you beat him to it."

A smug smirk twisted at Charles's mouth as he recalled he hadn't done much luring.

His little lamb had wanted to be ensnared; Anthony had merely missed the signs of a good chase. And it had been a very good chase indeed. Charlotte had played the prey to his predator beautifully. Though he silently wished she had mentioned her virginal state to him, while he liked a bit of roughness in his play, he never wanted to cause his partners' unnecessary pain. He would have been gentler with her on that first go, taken his time. Hell, he wished she had stayed for a second round. It had been too long since he had played with someone that satisfactorily.

He pushed back on those insatiable thoughts and turned a curious eye to his king, "And you, your Majesty? I trust that your night ended on a celebratory note, as well?"

"Quite, it ended in a very satisfying bang." Henry replied all too pleased with his lewd pun and the amused snort it pulled from his friend. His smile dimmed faintly and turned more affectionate as they rounded a corner and entered a side room that contained the queen and their newborn daughter, "Good morning, My Queen."

Charles bowed and murmured a quiet, "Majesty."

"Good morning, My King." Katherine returned with a gentle smile as she approached the duo. She nodded to Charles, "Mr. Brandon."

In her arms, the infant princess squirmed and she smiled wider as she offered the child to the King, "She wants her papa."

Henry reached for her instantly and with more gentleness than Charles had ever witnessed from his friend cradled the child in his arms. Pride and delight shined in his icy eyes as Mary settled and cooed quietly at her father. He ran a soft finger over her cheek, "My little pearl. Isn't she beautiful, Charles?"

Katherine looked on lovingly.

"She is." Charles agreed quietly with a faint smile. He knew that his friend was disappointed not to have a son, but he had born witness to the relief the King exuded when news reached him that both his wife and child were hale and whole. The Queen's last few pregnancies had been rough and there had been a real fear that she wouldn't survive her labor this last round. Despite his disappointment, Henry was still basking in the joy that his family was alive and would take what he could for now.

Suddenly feeling like an interloper to an intimate family moment, Charles bowed his head and began to make his excuses to exit, "I'll take my leave of you -"

Henry pinned him with an unimpressed glance, "Nonsense, stay and break your fast with us."

"Your Majesty, I would not want to intrude." Charles begged off and was almost startled when Katherine ganged up on him in turn.

"You're hardly an intruder, Mr. Brandon." Katherine rebuked gently. While she cared little for her husband's friends, Charles and William Compton were among the more tolerable, caring more to make her husband happy than receive any personal gain, "Besides I would like to hear how you enjoyed the celebrations. I'm afraid I was too weary to attend for long."

A mix of horror and hilarity welled up in Charles at the Queen's words and it was only made worse when he caught the mocking gleam in the King's gaze, "Yes, Charles, you must tell us how you enjoyed last night."

If it wouldn't be considered an act of treason, Charles would have punched the King soundly in the face regardless of the fact that he was still holding his daughter. He bit back a sigh and settled for a mild glare that made the King smirk, "The festivities were brilliant, Your Majesty. Though I'm afraid I was not present for much longer after your exit. I too retired early."

"Ah." The Queen muttered sagely with a sly twinkle in her eye, "Then you had a good evening, indeed."

Charles nearly choked on his tongue while the King burst into unexpected laughter. The noise startled the baby, but he was quick to calm her as he continued to chortle. Depositing the child into the arms of a waiting servant, Henry turned and pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek, "Thank you for that, dearest. I don't think I've ever seen Charles look more humbled."

Charles, in fact, had turned a faint red and was avoiding both of his monarch's amused gazes as he endured this teasing humiliation. Henry was lucky that his wife and daughter were present or else he may have made an unsubtle comment about the King's night. However, he actually was rather fond of Queen Katherine and had no desire to cause her such pain. Sighing, he changed the topic, "Light day, today, Your Majesty?"

"Very subtle, Charles." Henry uttered mockingly as he invited his friend to sit and food was dispersed, but he allowed the change, "Unfortunately no. I've been neglecting court matters the last week. I'm told I have a list of issues to address. Border grievances, petty squabbles, a few marriage declarations. Nothing terribly interesting."

Katherine hummed, gaining the attention of both men, "I would like to join you today, My King. If that would be acceptable?"

Henry raised a brow, "I assure you that it will be quite boring. Wouldn't you rather stay with Mary?... I know I would."

That seemed to amuse the Queen as she replied lightly, "You would rather be hunting."

"It's too cold for hunting." Henry rebuked in good humor and he wasn't wrong. A light dusting of snow had covered the ground during the night, "I'd rather play tennis."

Charles chuckled as he watched their byplay, but couldn't help, but ask, "Is there something that interests you in particular about today's agenda, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, actually." The Queen began, noting she had her husband's attention, "The Duchess of Buckingham mentioned that her niece is to be introduced today, Georgiana. Said she's a precocious child. I am curious – I didn't even know the Buckingham's had a niece."

Both Charles and Henry frowned in confusion as they ran over the noble lines in their heads. Henry reached a conclusion first, "The Earl of Wiltshire's daughter?"

"I had forgotten he had a child." Charles murmured as he thought of the arrogant redheaded lord. It was wildly acknowledged that Henry Stafford's marriage to Cecily Bonneville was one of convenience – rumors abounded that his interests were more inclined towards men than women.

"I as well." Henry acknowledged with a bemused frown, "Cecily was a very beautiful woman, I recall. I wonder if the daughter took after her or her father."

"Hopefully, her mother. Lord Stafford's hardly a prize."

Henry sniggered quietly at Charles's words.

"Does this mean you wouldn't mind my intrusion today?" Katherine prodded gently, somewhat proud that she had engaged the men's intrigue.

"Not at all." Henry answered indifferently, his mind already moving on to other things, "I think we're all rather curious about the elusive Lady Stafford."

Charles hummed in agreement but was more interested in spending his day seeking out his elusive Charlotte. He hadn't had his fill of his little lamb yet.

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Of course, Henry had other ideas about what Charles would be doing with his day. The King's tediously boring business also became Charles as he stood behind a long table strewn with maps reviewing the boundary lines of two estates. The squabble laid between Lord Byron and Lord Tyrrion, both greedy, petulant arses in Charles's opinion. Lord Tyrrion more so than Byron.

Even Cardinal Wolsey looked tired of the lords' nonsense and he wasn't even present for this issue.

"You've pulled up the stakes on my land so that your bloody sheep have a larger grazing pasture." Byron stated testily for the hundredth time as he pounded a finger on a boundary line, "This map clearly shows where the stakes should be."

"And it's where they are." Tyrrion replied with droll disinterest. He allowed the farmers in their area to let their cattle roam free on his land. He felt it gave healthier livestock and added more flavor to the meat.

"Then explain why the gardens of my estate have been decimated by your bloody roving bushes." Byron demanded.

"That's a poor thing to call your lady wife, sir."

The resulting exclamation made Charles bite back a sigh and long to bury his head in the ground.

At the other end of the room, King Henry entertained issues from other courtiers, looking about as thrilled as a mourner.

"Lord Malbury, you will either forfeit your estate or pay the taxes you owe." Henry droned threateningly as he ignored Katherine's placating hand, "You're two years overdue in your fealty. But in my kindness, I will give you a month to clear your debt. Is that understood, sir?"

Malbury shifted uncomfortably looking like he wanted to protest, but thought better of it as he quietly muttered, "Yes, Your Majesty."

Henry waved a hand dismissing him.

"Your Majesty, the Duke of Buckingham, Edward Stafford and the Earl of Wiltshire, Henry Stafford."

Katherine sat a little straighter in her seat as the two men approached and bowed. A young woman followed several steps behind, but only the Queen took an interest in her.

Henry raised a brow at the two brothers, "What can I do for you?"

"Your Majesty, thank you for seeing us today and may I say congratulations on the birth of Princess Mary." The Earl simpered before stepping aside and gesturing for his daughter to come forward, "I would like to present to you, my daughter, Lady Georgiana."

Henry tilted his head curiously as Georgiana came to the foot of his dais and curtsied gracefully. A simple hood covered her head, but a few purposeful locks were left to frame her face elegantly. She cut a nice figure in the pale green gown she had chosen. She didn't wear much in the way of adornments. Simple, refined, modest...everything a good Christian girl should be.

The King stood from his throne and gently took her hand, allowing her to rise and be viewed fully, "Lady Georgiana."

"Your Majesty." She murmured and he was greeted by a pair of sparkling blue eyes and a placid smile.

Katherine moved to his side, a curious grimace adorning her features as Henry spoke, "You're as enchanting as your mother. A shame that Lady Cecily isn't here to join us."

"Your Majesty is too kind." Georgiana demurred.

Wiltshire stepped forward as he rejoined the conversation, "If I may, Your Majesty."

He rested a light hand on his daughter's elbow while his brother beckoned another forward. Henry watched in keen interest as the Earl of Worcester came to stand between the two brothers. The older gentlemen bowed.

Already, Henry knew where this was going, "Lord Somerset, and what do you have to do with these proceedings?"

"Your Majesty, Lord Stafford and I have entered into an agreement for Lady Georgiana's hand. I would like to make a formal declaration of engagement." Lord Somerset asserted quietly.

Henry shared a glance with Katherine and wasn't surprised to see a faint gleam of disapproval in her gaze. Lord Somerset must have been about forty years the girl's senior, a bit excessive, but not exactly uncommon. His gaze swept back to the lady in question and nearly blinked as he witnessed a flash of annoyance disappear in a flicker as attention fell back on her.

Well, well... It seemed his lady wife was not the only one to disapprove. Henry pursed his lips, "I see... Lady Georgiana, you are amenable to this match?"

Fingers tightened over her elbow and Georgiana fixed a faint smile on her face as she replied, "I trust that my father has chosen well for me, sire."

A very diplomatic answer, if ever he heard one. If he hadn't seen the distaste in her gaze then he would have dismissed her as another mindless noblewoman. Except for her annoyance and the forethought she had displayed to hide behind a rather impressive mask of indifference, bespoke of a sharp intelligence. She would do well in court. Precocious, indeed. It was a pity she had already been promised to another.

"When is the wedding?" Katherine asked abruptly.

Startling the Duke and Earls. Worcester recovered swiftly, "In a month's time. Should there be no objections, Your Majesty?"

"I have none. Though, I do offer my congratulations." Henry stated before he shared another glance with his wife, "However, the Duchess of Buckingham spoke highly of Lady Georgiana and my lady wife has been looking forward to meeting her. I trust that you all will stay for the week to give Lady Georgiana a chance to experience courtly life before whisking her away to the country."

There was a brief chorus of agreements from the gentlemen and again Henry caught that flicker of unimpressed displeasure in her countenance. He nearly smirked, this was bound to be an interesting visit.

His attention wavered a moment as Charles approached from the back, looking harried and annoyed. Henry tried not to laugh. He had purposefully tasked him that particular boundary dispute as punishment for his early departure from the festivities, but also... he had no desire to deal with Lord Tyrrion's dry wit, "Has a solution been reached, Charles?"

Charles bowed and nodded, "Yes, Your Majesty. We just need your final approval."

Henry hummed in acknowledgement before nodding to the group before him, "Charles, I believe you already know the Duke of Buckingham and Earls of Wiltshire and Worcester, respectively?"

"Your Grace, milords." Charles greeted solemnly and with the bare minimum of decorum. Henry had never been able to figure out what the discourse between Charles and the Stafford house was, but he knew it was mutual. Edward Stafford nearly sneered at his friend.

"And this is Lady Georgiana Stafford, soon to be Somerset." Henry introduced lightly as he watched the way his friend studied the woman. A glint of interest sparked in his eye and the King refrained from snorting in amusement. Charles had no boundaries, "Lady Georgiana, may I present my good friend and courtier, Charles Brandon."

Oddly enough, the Lady seemed to stiffen at the sight of Charles before another placid mask befell her. She graced Charles with a nod, "Mr. Brandon."

"My lady." Charles intoned back, though a curious glimmer creased his gaze.

Henry stepped passed the group, now done with the pleasantries, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Georgiana. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend."

He didn't pause to watch their bows or hear their farewells. Charles followed at his heels after a minute and Henry sent him a questioning look when he finally noticed the faint frown on his friend's face, "Charles?"

Charles's mouth moved silently for a moment before he answered, "She seemed...familiar."

"Hopefully, not too familiar." Henry countered drolly as they approached the back table, "Wouldn't want both of the Staffords after your head."

Charles grunted in agreement, but couldn't help to return his gaze to Georgiana's departing form. He swore he knew her.

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#charles brandon #charles brandon fanfiction #charles brandon fic #duke of suffolk #anthony knivert #henry viii #katherine of aragon #tudors fanfic #the tudors #tudors fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #henry cavill #The Wiles of Men and Women

[voidstilesplease]

By the Angel, TALK

Warning: THIS IS AN ANTI-CLARY AND JACE SPOILER RANT because I need an avenue to let out some of the steam I've been holding off since starting City of Fallen Angels. So PLEASE SKIP AHEAD because I don't want to burden you all with my reading woes.

This thing centers on the beginning of Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire and a little bit of Chapter 8. About eight pages of bad, bad romance set me off.

To start,

The rest is under the cut, so you can go away now.

So, what's been happening to Clary and Jace thus far?

This book introduced them now as an official couple, picking up from the end of TMI Book 3: City of Glass. I don't remember their every scene since then to the point in Chapter 9 where I stopped, but basically, they're having relationship issues early on. They're less than two months into their relationship, and the drama is too frickin much. 

Jace has these weird dreams about murdering Clary and waking up guilty about his subconscious thoughts, so he goes angsting about it and avoiding her, snapping at her, being a total dick, and still question why people think they are on the brink of a break-up. 

So, Jace goes with Simon in the next few scenes, in his plight to get away from her as far as possible, yet still be somehow close by being around Clary's best friend to "protect" him, so his distant behavior will be reasonable and forgivable. Yeah, make that make sense. 🙄 But of course, one way or another, they're going to have to get to the confrontation part (that I still wish had been equivalent to an actual break-up), and so that's when Chapter 8 & 9 enters.

Chapter 8: Walk in Darkness pp. 185-186

Almost instantly, the light went out of them, and the remaining color drained out of his face. "I thought --- Simon said you weren't coming." ¹

[...] "So you only came because you thought I wouldn't be here? [...] Were you ever planning on talking to me again? [...] If you're going to break it off, the least you could do is tell me, not just stop talking to me and leave me to figure it out on my own."

"Why does everyone keep goddamn asking me if I'm going to break up with you? [...]²

First, what an asshole?! 

[1] So Jace finally in-your-face's Clary and confirms that he has been keeping his distance like Clary has the plague. He then has the audacity to [2] be annoyed for being questioned on his intentions of keeping the relationship that he has been actively evading for days!

I get that Jace sucks in romantic relationships and has been fucked up by his daddy-issues, but he has the Lightwoods. Heck, Alec is his parabatai. He sees working relationships, so he has to have known that you don't just stop talking to people close to you and have them not question the behavior, whether you're trying to pull away from them or not. Otherwise, then Jace is dumb for all that he's marketed as the "best" Shadowhunter in his age. Screw that.

---

“You talked to Simon about us?" Clary shook her head. "Why? Why aren't you talking to me?"

"Because I can't talk to you," Jace said. "I can't talk to you, I can't be with you, I can't even look at you."³

[3] Way to make a girl feel special, Jace. Oh, no, yeah. He's trying to do the opposite and push her away with some teenage boy angst that doesn't make any sense. Like, who says that, though, aside from dramatic love interests that can't make a better excuse for going emo? 

That line IS TOO DRAMATIC that it hurts, ugh. 🤮

Anyway, so Clary walks out after that. I don't sympathize with her, but I'd do the same. Who wouldn't? Unless you freeze in the ridiculousness of the situation, that is, which is also likely.

Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire pp. 190-195

Now, here's the real shit. I want to quote this entire six-page scene back to Cassie and scream at her.

Clary reached the door and burst out into the rain-drenched evening air. [...] and was about to race across the street against the light when a hand caught her arm and spun her around.

It was Jace. [...] "Clary, didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Let go of me." Her voice shook.

"No. Not until you talk to me."⁴

[4] DUDE, what even happened to your I CAN'T TALK TO YOU, I CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT YOU speech, huh? Be consistent for once, apart from your douchebag routine. Make up your mind, Jace.

---

Still holding her by the arm, he half-dragged her around the van and into a narrow alley that bordered the Alto Bar. ⁵

[5] Man, I love a bit of rough loving in my literature, but I'm so pissed at you, Jace, don't even. Lay the hell off.

---

"I was going to tell you that I was trying to help out Simon. [...]

"And you couldn't tell me? Couldn't text me a single line letting me know where you were?"⁶ [...]

[...]

"I think," he said slowly, "that I thought that the closest thing to being with you was being with Simon. Watching out for him. I had some stupid idea that you'd realize I was doing it for you and forgive me---"⁷

[6] Addressing the lack of communication, that's a great path to follow. These two need to talk so bad. [7] But this line? Sucks Balls. You could be with her, Jacey, and save all the readers your drama if you only pull your head out of your ass and try to communicate. It's like you're allergic to it.

---

She took a step back, blindly, and nearly tripped over an abandoned speaker. Her bag slid to the ground as she put her hand out to right herself, but Jace was already there. He moved forward to catch her, and kept moving until her back hit the alley wall, and his arms were around her, and he was kissing her frantically.⁸

[8] Not only is this achingly cheesy, but it's also totally not the way they should be going off about their situation. They were already talking -arguing, yes, but they're still using words to reach out, and their relationship absolutely cannot be healthy without them. Thus far, they have spoken so less in comparison with the times they've spent canoodling. They're not solving anything by having drama on one second and getting it on with dramatic kissing on the next.

I don't care what Clary says about being so lost in love with Jace. He's treating her like shit. The least he can do is give her answers that she has the right to demand from him. Kissing is not an answer. But, well, maybe to Clary, it is because the next parts from page 192 to 194 are spent on softcore porn in a dark alley under the frickin rain. I bet that's a very romantic setting in their minds, huh.

---

And now this part:

It was nerve-wracking. She could feel the feverish heat that came off him; her hands were still on his shoulders, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him wrapped around her, holding her tight. "W-why," she breathed. "can't you talk to me? Why can't you look at me?"

He ducked his head down to look into her face. His eyes, surrounded by lashes darkened with rainwater, were impossibly gold.

"Because I love you."⁹

[9] Is that supposed to make me tingle? SET ME ON FIRE, but that is the lousiest I love you in books that I have ever read. AND IT'S THE ONLY ONE THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE, at all!

Shut up with this, can you please. It's not romantic at all. It's a dumb excuse and an even dumber love from the two dumbest people in this whole frickin series. Oh my god.

Clary, realistically, will frown at this answer. She will pull the hell away and spat him in the face with how demeaning his love is if it can make her sick to the stomach with thinking he has already gone bored and is only cooking the perfect way to cut off their connection. He hasn't given her a sound reason, only desperate declarations of love like he's trying to convince them both that it's true. And it doesn't make sense how she's still plastered around him in the cold, trying to convince the readers that every word from Jace has deeper meanings that she understands no matter how gibberish they are. I'm not buying that, okay? Stop selling your larger-than-life connection bullshit because that isn't real.

You've only been together for two months, okay? The strongest you can feel for each other is lust. And it's showing.

---

His hands slid down to her waist and he kissed her, long and lingering, making her shudder.

She pulled away, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Neither does this," he said, "but I don't care. I'm sick of trying to pretend I can live without you. Don't you understand that? Can't you see it's killing me?"¹⁰

She stared at him. She could see that he meant what he said [...] Her desire for answers battled the more primal part of her brain, and lost. "Kiss me then,"¹¹

[10] NOBODY THREATENED YOU UNDER BLADE TO DO THAT BULLSHIT, so shut the hell up with the whining. [11] and Clary, I am so disappointed. You've both just drained me, and I'm dry inside like a raisin.

The next paragraphs describe their very erotic kissing against the wall. Jace, propping her up and her legs around his waist bull crap. Seriously? Am I supposed to believe these two are, what sixteen?- up until Isabelle thankfully ruins their moment by kicking a garbage can that would look better with Jace and Clary in it tbh.

---

And the nastiest horseshit of all:

Clary looked at Jace. At any other time, they would have laughed together at Isabelle's moodiness, but there was no humor in his expression, and she knew immediately that whatever they had had between them ---whatever had blossomed out of his momentary lack of control--- it was gone now. [...]

"Jace---" she took a step toward him.

"Don't," he said, his voice very rough. "I can't."¹²

And then he was gone [...]

[12] No, I frickin CANNOT. His actions keep on contradicting his words, and he's fickle and can't decide which mood to settle, and it's so exhausting, honestly. He wasted a few pages for a cosmic, meaningless declaration of feelings. They're empty words. At this point, I believe the writing only strives to convince the readers that these characters care for each other but is shitty at showing it.

It's not love, because they say it is love.

---

I was already gaining hope for this book, and then one simple few-pages scene with clace squishes it, smearing the innards on my face.

Honestly, TALK OR TAKE A BREAK. This back and forth can't continue throughout the rest of the book or -heaven forbid- the rest of the series. Or at least, put these characters in the background if they really must drag on this problem, because I care not a lick.

Bye.

#📖: city of fallen angels #current read #anti clace #anti clary fray #anti jace wayland #city of fallen angels #mid-read rant #I'm just so triggered #books #bookish #bookblr #book quotes #book lines #shadowhunters #late to the party woes #cassandra clare #what are you doing with these characters #did you forget this wasn't a twilight fanfiction or something

[anna-justice]

Lost or Found - 12

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

12 - Need You Now ...

Jay clenched his jaw as he took the man’s hand. He wanted nothing more than to sock him square in the face--a thought that was becoming a pattern--and tell him to get the hell out. But, that was a sure way to get himself thrown out, and he refused to let Hailey wake up alone in this horrible situation. So, he bit his tongue and played nice. “You too, sir. Wish it was under better circumstances.” Jay said, forcing a smile. It was true, he did wish that they had met under better circumstances, for two reasons. One being that her dad wasn’t a sadistic asswhole and two being that he wished he was in a position to beat the shit out of him. 

Eldon nodded, agreeing with the young man standing in front of him, none-the wiser of his bubbling hatred. He wrapped an arm around his wife and thankfully didn’t notice Jay’s not so subtle flinch. 

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, Jay had once again sat down in the seat adjacent to Hailey’s bed while Anne and Eldon pulled chairs up next to her. Jay’s knee bounced nervously, he was wondering how long it took to buy a sandwich and where Trudy was. He wanted to leave and remove himself from the terrible silence, but the thought of Hailey waking up to face her father without him was as appealing as drinking battery acid. Instead, he sent a quick text to Adam, hoping he would come and share his wit and charm with the group.

Jay: Hailey’s parents are here…

Less than five seconds later, he replied.

Ruzey Ruzek: Are you serious?

Jay: Deadass

Jay: I’m gonna kill him if you don’t come stop me

Ruzey Ruzek: Don’t do that…

Ruzey Ruzek: A hospital is a terrible place to kill someone

Ruzey Ruzek: If you are going to murder him, put a little more effort in. For me?

Jay rolled his eyes, he was thankful for his best friend who was obviously trying to distract him. He also took notice of the fact that yet again, Adam had changed his contact information to something stupid. 

Jay: I hate you

Adam Ruzek: No you don’t

Adam Ruzek: You love me

Jay: Whatever

Adam Ruzek: Love you too bestie ;)

Jay: Stop being a little shit pls

Jay: This is not good

Adam Ruzek: I know

Adam Ruzek: Let me talk to Kim and then I’ll come down there

Jay: Thanks

Adam Ruzek: Ofc

Jay let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, relaxing into his chair a bit more. At least with Adam here he wouldn’t have to bear the hostility alone. 

“So. Jay, tell me about yourself.” Eldon said, turning to face him. “Anne made it sound like you and Hailey are very close.” 

Jay leaned forward in his chair, deciding that a faked conversation was better than deafening silence. Plus, he couldn’t risk Hailey’s dad thinking he knew anything, he didn’t want to put her or her mom in harms way. “We are, she’s my best friend.” He said honestly, with a soft smile.

“I hope you have only pure intentions with my daughter…” Eldon threatened, a eyebrow cocked.

Jay fought off the urge to scoff, “The purest.” 

Eldon nodded, feigning relief. “Good.” Jay was convinced he was only speaking to keep up appearances. “You play any sports son?” 

“Baseball.” Jay said courtly, his own father wouldn’t own up to him being his son, he didn’t need anyone calling him that, let alone an abusive arse. 

“Hailey’soldest brother went to college on a baseball scholarship!” Anne said, piping in. Jay gave her a big smile, happy to transfer the conversation to her. 

“Really? Where?” Jay asked, genuinely interested.

Anne beamed,“Indiana State.” 

“Wow, you must be proud.” Jay said.

“We are.” Eldon cut in, a little too harsh for Jay’s liking. 

Just like that the almost friendly conversation was over and the silence returned, Jay was about to text Adam to ask him where he was when Trudy came bounding into the room holding a pizza box. Her jaw dropped and Jay stood immediately. Her eyes met his and then focused back on the couple in front of her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

…

Kevin sat in the locker room with Matt Casey and Connor Rhodes after their saturday morning practice. He hated that he couldn’t be with his friends at the hospital, but football season stopped for no man and he was counting on impressing college scouts a year early.

“You coming to the party tonight?” Connor askes. Kevin shakes his head and Connor rolls his eyes. “Of course you aren’t, you haven’t been to any in months. Matt?”

Matt shakes his head as well. “Can’t, I have a date with Sylvie.” 

Before Connor can respond, Kevin claps his teammate and friend on the back. “Man, you’ve been crushing on her for like a year now.” He teases and Matt smiles big. “Congrats.”

“Thanks.” Matt says, “I’m really excited, really nervous and really worried that I’m going to screw this up.” 

Kevin is taken aback by the blondes sudden outburst of transparency, Matt wasn’t usually one for sharing his feelings. Anxiety must be his truth serum. “Where are you taking her?” 

“Molly’s, you know it? I think it’s perfect, not too fancy but enough to make a good impression. Plus, the owner works with Wallace.” Matt explained and Kevin knew exactly what place Matt was talking about. He had gone there for Kim’s birthday last year with the rest of their friends. 

Kevin picked up his bag and waved goodbye to Connor who was heading out. “Sounds perfect man, she’ll love it.”

“Thanks.” Matt said, he grabbed his bag and followed Kevin out of the locker room. “I heard about Kim and Hailey, how are they doing?”

Kevin sighed, “Last I heard, Hailey hadn’t woken up yet and Kim was doing good, no hearing loss like they had expected.”

“Damn, that’s great about Kim, but Hailey’s not out of the woods yet?” Matt asked.

Kevin shrugged, “Not that I know of.” There was a hint of sadness to his voice unrelated to his friends current state. The balance in the group was off and Kevin was taking the brunt of it. When Erin was alive, there were six of them. He always had someone to pair off with whether it was Adam, Kim or Hailey. Now there were five and as happy as he was for his friends, it was hard being the fifth wheel. 

He and Kim had been friends for years, that’s how he was brought into the group, it just happened that he knew Adam and Jay and clicked with them well. He was a little jealous if he was being honest, not only did he not always have the time to be totally  invested like the rest of them, but any time he did he felt like he was being held at an arms length. Kevin wanted to have a person, like Hailey was to Jay (anyone who wasn’t blind could see it, and even then they probably knew) or Kim was to Adam. He had been interested in Nadia at first, but her obvious feelings for Jay caused his to fade fast. Besides it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, Erin got rid of her at the first sign of weakness. 

Kevin bid goodbye to Matt and made his way to his old jeep, still wrapped up in his own thoughts. He felt guilty placing blame on a dead girl, but he couldn’t help but think that all of this was Erin’s fault. He wasn’t usually the one to displace emotion, he grew up in a household where they were almost too out in the open. However, his hatred for Erin--or the dramatics that surrounded her for that matter--was increasing by the day. He had no idea how she got herself in the situation she was in and he sure a hell didn’t understand how she dragged the rest or them and their families into it.

When he got home he found Vinessa playing in the family room and his mom in the kitchen. He said hello to his mother and told her about practice before sitting down to play with Vinessa. She had a barbie in her hand, and Kevin knew for a fact that she didn’t have any barbies. Taking a closer look over her shoulder, Kevin realized that it was no normal doll. It looked exactly like Erin.

…

Jay dropped his gaze to his phone and shot Adam a quick text.

Jay: Abort abort

Jay: Trudy is here

Eldon slowly stands and gives his sister-in-law a fake smile. “Checking on my only daughter, since you were so forth coming on her condition when you called.”

Trudy set the pizza down on the small table near the door and took a step toward him. “You are not welcome here. You need to leave.” 

Jay looked back and forth between them, trying to decipher where this was going. “What are you going to do Trudy? Call security? I haven’t done anything…”

“Like hell…” Jay said under his breath, Eldon’s head whipped around and Jay realized that his thought that slipped had not been as quiet as he hoped. 

Eldon was seething, Jay was convinced that he had literal steam coming out of his ears. “What did you say?” He took a step towards Jay and Anne reached out to grab his arm.

“Eldon--”

He ripped his arm from her grip, “Don’t touch me.” Anne backed away, much to Jay and Trudy’s approval. “You have no right to speak to me that way.”

Jay took a moment to consider her next move, he had already gotten himself into to some deep shit so he might as well go full send. “You have no right to smack around your wife or your daughter.” The last part came out more spat than in sentence form and Eldon clenched his fists.

The way he saw it, he had two choices: lay the kid in front of him out and high tail it out of there, or, play dumb and make him look like a idiot. He went with the latter. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

Jay scoffed, glancing at Anne who becoming one with the wall. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him, there was no doubt that he had put the woman in danger due to his anger getting the best of him. “Sure, of course you don’t. You don’t anything about the injury that damaged Hailey’s body so bad that she needed a pacemaker?” He was almost yelling and a look of shock crossed Eldon’s face. He guessed that he thought no one knew. 

“I don’t have to stay here and listen to this.” Eldon grumbled, turning to face his wife.

Jay stood his ground, determined to have the last word. “Leave.” 

Eldon shot him a glare like he had never seen before and stormed out of the room. Jay let out a sigh of relief along with Trudy, who had jumped out of the doorway to make room for the brooding man. Anne began to gather her things, grabbing her purse and pressing a chaste kiss to her daughters forehead. Jay had forgotten Hailey was still there in the midst of all the craziness. Anne reached the threshold before Trudy spoke up. “You don’t have to leave with him.” Anne gave her a teary shrug and disappeared down the hallway. 

Trudy collapsed into one of the chairs they had abandoned so quickly. “I’m sorry.” Jay said softly, his guilt eating him up.

Trudy rann her hands down her face, “You didn’t do anything wrong Jay, you did what you thought was best.” Jay shrugged, her approval doing very little to calm the pit in his stomach. “But Hailey can never know they were here.” 

Jay nods, “Yeah okay.” He took a seat next to Trudy, placing his hand over Hailey’s. He wished he could erase the past few hours, and he wished Hailey’s beautiful blue eyes would open do the pressure on his chest would lift. He was ready for the nightmare of waiting to be over. 

Hailey felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks when she woke up, she opened her eyes and quickly shut them, groaning at the bright lights. 

Jay shot forward in his seat, “Hailey?” He gripped her hand a little harder and pulled his chair closer to the bed. 

She forced herself to open her eyes again, squinting. She recognized his voice and smiled softly. “Hey.” She croaked out, her throat dry from being asleep for so long. Hailey looked around the room and slightly nudged her head towards the pitcher of water beside her bed. Jay got the message and jumped up, getting her a glass. She gulped it down quickly, feeling a bit more like herself. Trudy announced that she was going to find a doctor, giving the two of them the room. 

“You scared me.” Jay said honestly, he had grown another set of balls since that morning. “How are you feeling?”

Hailey attempted to shrug, but it came out more of an awkward shake. “Okay, I guess.” 

Jay nodded, taking the next few moments to remind her what happened and explain their story. Thankfully Hailey remembered everything, right up to hearing his voice before she passed out. 

“How long was I out?” Hailey asked.

Jay sighed,“Since you got here last night, I’ll let the doctor explain everything.” 

“Everything?” Hailey asked, panicking a bit. She didn’t know the extent of her injuries and she had been in this position once before. It wasn’t fun. 

“Hey, hey.” Jay said, brushing a piece of tangled blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay.” 

Hailey nodded, blinking back tears and deciding to change the subject. “How long have you been here?”

Jay grinned sheepishly, “Six this morning…” 

Hailey gasped, “When did you leave last night?”

“One.” Hailey was about to chew him out, but he beat her to it. “I know exactly what you are going to say and don’t you dare. I wanted to be here, I couldn’t have been anywhere else. I was going crazy at home when I was there.” 

Hailey blushed at his words, she hated that she was reacting to him this way because of their obvious situation, but she couldn't help it. The thought of him sitting in her hospital room for hours on end made her heart swell, as twisted as it was. 

“Let’s see what’s on TV…” Jay coughed, clicking the button on the remote. 

Hailey nodded, glancing past him. “Is that pizza?” 

Jay laughed and got up to get the box. He knew she probably wasn’t supposed to eat, but after his confession he would give her any distraction she wanted. 

Hailey turned her head to face the TV that was currently playing the local news. It was a press conference, the man speaking looked familiar and he was wearing a crisp uniform that she recognized. She had seen her uncle in it before. She read the heading on the bottom of the screen. 

Benjamin Severide - Office of Fire Investigation

Fire that potentially claimed the life of local teen Erin Lindsay has officially been ruled an arson.

Hailey’s eyes widened at the name. Severide. That was all the confirmation that Hailey needed, she knew she was right. Kelly’s dad worked in the very department that was controlling the investigation, if he was a part of it, they could make it go away. “Jay, look.” Jay glanced at the screen and by the look on his face, Hailey knew they were thinking the same thing. Someway, somehow, Kelly Severide was at the middle of all of it, and Hailey was going to find out exactly how.

#jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead #upstead au #kim burgess #adam ruzek #burzek #burzek au #kevin atwater #trudy platt #matt casey #sylvie brett #brettsey #brettsey au #kelly severide #connor rhodes #chicago pd #chicago fire #chicago med #one chicago