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ay0nha · 6 months

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LIFE IS BUT A DREAM | SHANKS (OPLA)

SUMMARY: You had done unspeakable things, figuring it was an acceptable way to siphon your affection. You were young and blinded by false idolization. Shanks chose to see the best in you, even now, even after everything. He, too, was blinded by an image of you that hadn’t changed since you were young.

PAIRING: OPLA!Shanks x f!reader (Gold D. Roger's daughter)

WORDS COUNT: 3K~

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, enemies to lovers, jail, talk of death and things related, morally grey reader, ANGST, RUSHED ending, flowery language, injuries, blood, murder, random ocs (aka fictional villains inserts), idk really what the plot is besides just straight angst lol, etc.

A/N: I got a couple of Shanks requests, so I combined them all as they were very similar. Thank you SO much to @wood-white-writer for inspiring my reader and helping me along, and @togenabi for entertaining my rambling! I'm begging you to go check out their fics because they are *divine*. Enjoy.

The waves that thrust against the coast lulled you into a meditative state. It made the time pass with uncertainty. Even the briny smell of the warm breeze cradled you in a way that pulled the weight from your shoulders.

You never thought jail to be so idyllic.

It was tempting to postpone your escape for a bit longer; there were only so many opportunities to stretch your spine and rest. Yet, your left eye twitched, warning you your premonition was soon to be true.

It was on the simpler side, a vision of dark shadows intentionally elusive. The bars that separated you from the world were bent, promising damage from the strength that wasn’t your own. You knew he was coming. It was sooner than you thought, but you learned long ago that your foresight would never be reliable.

It favored him over you.

When you were younger, you thought you were crazy, seeing apparitions or former lives. However, as years passed, familiar faces began to fill your vision, showing truths you became excited to fulfill. But they became warped with opposing desires and reverberating fear wreathed with vindication.

It made things sour and sore. It allowed trouble to seek you out just to be ill-prepared for your counter. It wasn’t bravery that energized you, nor was it skill. Pure spite drove you to be the worst of all.

“On your feet.”

The serenity you had slipped through your fingers like warm sand. The guard repeated his command, using force to pull at the chains connecting your limbs. You couldn’t help but smile at what he thought was a punishment.

“Rumor has it, you’re hot shit.” The guard scoffed, voice echoing the dripping hallways. The way he trailed your body exposed his lust. “They’re not wrong by the looks of it…”

The guard’s weak come-ons warbled in your ears like a white noise. You used the moment to fulfill a repeated daydream. That liminal space presented your strength as you pulled your chains around the guard’s neck until there was no longer resistance.

The conversations were typically cyclical, feigned disinterest to disguise the anxiety your proximity created or those whose egos convinced they could charm you. You stopped paying attention to the rumors the more embellished they became. To some, you were a mercenary; to others, a frenzied psychopath.

The only truth they held was how deliberately unrestrained you were willing to be. There was no rhyme or reason behind it; at least you were close to convincing yourself of that. Regardless, it had gotten you far, the only thing you’d even consider reliable.

“You hear something?” The guard perked, pulling you harshly toward him. How brave of him to use me as a shield, you thought. Your attention returned when it sounded again, “Shit!—

The bang was loud—time had bested you.

You were lucky to recognize the canon’s whistle and use the commotion to regain an advantage. The current reality had yet to become your destiny. If you moved quickly enough, you wouldn’t have to catch your death in such a dilapidated place.

Maneuvering your body unnaturally, you felt for the knife hidden on your thigh. The guard was panicking despite training not to split on whether to keep his eyes on you or the trouble you unknowingly caused.

Using his momentary stupor, your chains wrapped tightly around his throat. It was better than any dream to feel the way the air caught in his body, never to be released. Any lingering struggle stopped when your knife found an artery.

The blood sputtered, feeling warm against your hands. It was messy, but its carnality evoked an almost erotic sensation that was inimitable. Plenty felt power connected to the strength it took to take away something vital. It corrupted them and blinded them from the true potentiality of the action.

It made life seem like nothing more than overflowing fragility. It was well-known time with the world and sea was limited, and eventually, everyone would end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. There was a purposeful lack of originality there solely due to fear of change.

Yet, when one danced with death, you became the music.

You wiped your fingers across your neck, rubbing the tight knots that met at your shoulders. The fresh blood would stain your skin, but you craved a performance. You readied yourself for the approaching marine boots. The staging was almost too believable, but every second was convincing.

“Fuck. Fuck—” The words tumbled from your quivering lip. You couldn’t think of anything else, repeating the curse. You smeared the blood on your shirt, a mindless move to rid yourself of taking someone’s life. “Help me, please. This man—I don’t—he came after me—the others are still back there, they’ll be here any moment—I didn’t know what to do—

“Still with the theatrics, eh?”

Your crocodile tears ceased to stream down your cheeks. The feigned, horrified expression turned into an unearthed fury. Shame on you for missing the stray red hairs at the nape of the guard’s neck.

“Shanks.” You greeted dryly. “You’re early.”

It was hard for Shanks to meet your eye. He was far from intimidated, but the wild look in your eyes made him hesitate. The years had been kind to you as if you traded your soul for youth. But it was a foolish thought that the devil would be so naive to make a deal with you.

“Was that necessary?” Shanks nodded to the man behind you.

“And I thought the canons were a bit excessive.” You tutted as if your opposing opinions were trivial. “And yet here we are…”

“Love—

You hadn’t believed in love, and you were ready to carry that grudge—until him. It wasn’t proper love, proving your skepticism in the emotion correctly. But it was the closest you’ve ever been, could ever be.

You had done unspeakable things, figuring it was an acceptable way to siphon your affection. You were young and blinded by false idolization. Shanks chose to see the best in you, even now, even after everything. He, too, was blinded by an image of you that hadn’t changed since you were young.

“Let’s get this on with,” You stopped him, moving swiftly to feel the body below you for anything valuable. “Tumole gave me up, then? That’s how you found me? Bastard.”

You smiled at the image: Shanks holding the poor man upside down, kindness still in his threats to find you. Violence was never necessary with Tumole, always one to ramble away anyone’s secret for safety. However, it was as though you subconsciously left a clue, but you knew the crumbs Shanks found weren’t worth it.

“You really wasted your crew’s time on me...” You stood, pulling your neck until it popped. It had been a while since you had a one-on-one with Shanks, but you knew he’d always pull his punches. “Must really be desperate—

“I won’t fight you.” He tracked your posture. Your exterior was calm, but with every twitch calculated, you were nearing rabid. “It’s not worth it.”

“Tell me, then, what I’m worth to you, Shanks?” You taunted. It was obvious what he wanted to say: saving. His emotion was always his weakness.

His pause was intentional, stalling of sorts to let the exchange sink in. Standing under Shanks ' gaze, your body had a new form of reprieve. A facade wasn’t necessary, but you weren’t willing to lose more of yourself to another.

Your anger dissipated into a haze. It pulled a frown from Shanks as your breathing steadied only to slow. The harder you blinked, the more you forgot your argument. Even if you had held onto it, the lump in your throat wouldn’t allow it to exist.

Shanks’ lips shaped your name, but all you could hear was a mild ringing, a buzz. His step forward elicited an instinct to step back.

“Don’t—” You spat. Your left arm was like static, numb from the shoulder down, an ironic consequence of dismissing your opposite. “—fucking touch me.”

Your vision was the last to go, allowing you to watch yourself crumble; your knees locked, and the palm of your hands broke your fall, exposing how blood pooled from your arm. When did that happen? It had nothing to do with pain tolerance or adrenaline; you were distracted by your vision, doing what you could to change its form.

However, your effort was useless to make sense of it. You read it wrong; forgetting things such as foresight was rarely linear. As the world around you closed in, clouding your vision, you realized the open bars weren’t an entrance to your cell. Rather, it was the exit Shanks carried you through with success.

You were never destined to win.

—

The dream always teased you with muddled memories.

They always started the same, a mirrored image of the room you grew up in. Only a few feet separated the sacks the headmistress would call your beds. Your fingertips felt the scratchy fabric of the cheap blankets.

When the dreams first began, you believed they were real, that you’d never left the dormitory of the dingy children’s home. But the feeling of the monochrome bedding was always wrong, your dream never quite getting the textures correct. So, there was no room for nostalgia.

It was as if you were stuck in a loop, hand rhythmically gliding across the bedding in hopes of softening it. It was neither tranquil nor eerie. Its structure was that of a fever dream, its kaleidoscope quality provoking you to interpret it.

Its symbolization didn’t go past you, but it always felt uninvolved—superficial even. At the time, your child wonderment knew no difference between the life you had and the life you were meant to exist in.

As any child did, you dreamed of silks and decadent food. Candies and luxuries. You dreamed of family and warmth. Hope drove those fantasies, but there was no point in clinging to hope when you found out you weren’t wanted.

Gol D. Roger. Pirate King. The name circled every coastal town and seeped into every deep forest. His mirth was enviable, and his skill indomitable. You wanted to hold indifference toward him, but every bounty you saw enamored you. He made hope seem regainable.

You looked down at your hand, seeing your hand change shape with each slow swipe across the bed. Your slender fingers became older, calloused. Experienced. Moving to see the palm, you saw the lifeline had ended and an elaborate red sleeve scratched at your—Gol D. Roger’s—wrist.

You flinched as if you were burnt. You wanted to rid yourself of the attachment by any means. But it didn’t matter when your blood was intertwined. There was no escaping your lineage, your father.

The longer you lingered with the feeling, your surroundings slowly morphed. A wind picked up but hadn’t raised chills across your arms—not yet. You wanted to stretch now that your hand became your own again.

However, a sway lulled you into your environment. The ships were always different, never ones you recognized. You’d like to praise your brain’s creativity, but you knew you’d step foot on every deck at some point in life. If you were smart, you would have noted each and every one. It was hard to when the horizon seemed so…

“The tide is strange…” You hummed. Although your voice vibrated in your chest, it felt delayed, like an echo of someone else.

A hand trailed your spine with warmth. Goosebumps littered your body. You hadn’t thought to fight them, knowing the touch belonged to someone who put far too much faith in you.

“Am I finally rubbing off on you?” Shanks matched your hum, creating more serenity than you could handle. It was purposeful to calm you and invite you in.

“No, no…” You echoed again, shaking your head. Shanks continued with his charm, making promises that the sea and he could fulfill. However, your eyes didn’t leave the shore, the tide much more vast than you’ve ever seen. “...no, there’s—There’s something changing it.” You paused, nausea hitting you boldly. “...someone…maybe? Don’t you feel that?”

Another laugh, more hollow than the last. You had yet to face Shanks, only trusting his touch. It started to burn when you finally turned to him. He was physically present, but his eyes were vacant as if a copy of himself.

“Love, just try and relax.” His smile was plastered, almost painfully. “Nothing's wrong anymore. Nothing will change—

You frowned. “Shanks—

“She won’t hurt us.” Shanks caught you in his hold. You finally understood the deception and recognized the wolf in sheep’s clothing. “She gave me her word.”

—

You jolted awake.

The image wasn’t explicit, but it made you squirm; your back arched against the deck’s railing until your fingertips touched the waves below. You never sunk or floated, but you breathed in the water and felt it swallow you whole with a salty taste.

Your chest was tight, careful not to suck in your breath too quickly. Despite still being bleary-eyed, you knew you weren’t alone. You knotted your fingers in the bed’s fabric to ground you. The room's scent reminded you to breathe before succumbing to your subconscious torture again.

“You alright?” Shanks called from the deepest corner of the room. He was swift to strike a match to see your condition for himself.

The candlelight illuminated the gauze that nurtured your stiff arm. Shanks reprimanded you slightly as you pushed yourself up. Shanks knew you well, understanding that you were already seeking an escape from whatever plagued you. The look in your eye told him you would run regardless of a purpose.

“What did you see?” His voice remained calm, tone unwavering with vigilance.

“I didn’t.” Your defiance was your only form of defense on his ship.

Slight relief came from how Shank’s eyebrow dared to twitch with frustration. It meant he was real. Your blood pumped slower at the unorthodox respite. You continued to move, to stand despite your sore body. Shanks was still blocking your way to the door, but you paced lightly to rid yourself of the jitters.

“You can talk to me.” Shanks knew you were frazzled, and he was determined to coax the cause out of you. “I understand why you’re—

“Daddy dearest has nothing to do with this.” You hissed, hating the assumption. “Don’t you understand there was a reason your beloved captain left me to rot all those years ago? When will you learn to do the same?”

Shanks didn’t lack sympathy for you, but he understood why your father chose to keep you away from the life that proved only to hurt you. Shanks intended to keep the promise he made to you before you learned it was by the instruction of your father.

“I gave my word.” Shanks countered. His word choice made you flinch, your dream still fresh. He softened to repeat himself. “I gave my word to keep you safe. This has nothing to do with —

“Safe with a pirate, eh?” You scoffed, picking up what was most likely a stolen treasure. You held no qualms with his lifestyle, but you refused the overlap Shanks wanted to share. “That’ll be the fucking day.”

You felt a needle of pain in your nose like you were near tears, the guilt settling the bile in your throat. The game of cat and mouse was getting old. It was a facetious argument you used for distraction. The bravado you held was angry and vengeful.

“I know you’ve heard the rumors…” Shanks sighed as if his strategy to coax a conversation out of you backfired. “Cain is spreading out, searching for you. She won’t stop this time.”

You dropped the small object of treasure back into its place. Any emotion was swallowed and digested. There was little energy left to pretend to argue. You needed to leave the room before you suffocated. Shanks wouldn’t block if you tried.

You lingered, waiting for him to spit out the obvious. “Look, I know you saw her—

“I felt her.” Your expression, even mixed with vulnerability, was composed with passivity. Your composure could fool most, but to a trained eye, your discomfort was obvious.

Your admission was desperate, breaking a tension that had filled the air. You wouldn’t crumble. You tried to hold it in, breathing evenly to suppress any sobbing urge. It was neither the time nor the place for added emotion.

“I need to know the full story.” He replied thoughtfully.

He mistook his demeanor for bravery, but his true bravery formed by being across from you. The only barrier seemed to be Shanks’ incorruptible moral code, a space where you couldn’t quite freely exist.

You wanted so badly to trust him. You sought his comfort. The feeling felt foreign, so you prickled.

“You already know how it ends. What does the rest matter?” You always leaned on pessimism. “I want nothing to do with this. With her.”

“I’ll be beside you the entire time,” Shanks promised, voice low and steady, reflecting his sincerity. You could make out the warmth he was willing to share, but you couldn’t accept it wholly.

“And my interests?”

Shanks’ expression fell slightly at your evasive rejection. “It depends on where they lie.”

In an ideal world, you’d like to think you and Shanks could be friends. Frankly, though, his compassion made you nauseous. Or maybe it was nerves. The feeling was always hard for you to distinguish. You wished the way he looked at you would warm your chest, but it only reminded you of how that was another impossibility.

Although you were still present, Shanks watched you flee. Your guard returned stronger, but he didn’t regret his words. Shanks’ eyes were pleading, and you went to chastise him, but you found something distinct there.

You didn’t know what to do with it, but to muse a buried thought. "...Empathy will get you killed, Shanks.”

“Then, I am a dead man walking.”

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twstfanblog · 8 months

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*~Period Drama~* Saturday

A/N: So I sneezed, which is why this is out before the RSA series chapter lol. But I'm gonna have a lot of fun with this series I can feel it. Word Count: 4.7K (Wow, around the same as the last part) Warnings: Period mentions, Blood mentions (Drawing blood) She/They OC Pronouns Pairings: Azul/Reader (Poly), Jamil/Reader (Poly), Platonic relationships with Floyd, Jade, Ortho, and Crewel. Enjoy! Start, Part 2 (Here), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Savanaclaw), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt.1), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt.2)

Jamil, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Grim, Ace, and Deuce stood outside of ramshackle, some of them sitting on the wooden steps. Waiting as patiently as they could for Crewel to give them a final order. No more than twenty minutes had passed before Crewel opened the front door. He looked their group over, coming to some sort of choice before he smacked the palm of his hand with his crop, “Octavinelle pups, you stay. The rest of you go on with your day.” “Wait, what!?”

“Sensei!”

“Why does he-”

Crewel smacks his palm again. The crack somehow perfectly balanced with the harsh shush he gives them, quieting the protesting group instantly. His glare softens at seeing their crestfallen faces, “Yuu will be in contact. I need to gather up the needed potions and resource materials. But for now, They’re resting and it would be best to have someone in the house with them. Both to get them whatever they need and to keep unwanteds out. Ergo, the Octavinelle mutts.”

Jamil frowns but doesn’t speak up. He knew that he would probably have damage control to do in Scarabia. Najma most likely called Kalim in confusion from his call, not entertaining the thought of actually waiting on him to explain his bizarre question. Kalim would have only half the story and no context which was worrying enough, so he was clearly panicking and amassing the other Scarabia students for a witch hunt. He should stop at Scarbia before going back to basketball practice…

Deuce steps forward, imaginary puppy ears drooping as he mutters out, “Is Yuu at least okay? I didn’t see much, but it looked like a lot of blood…”

Sighing, Crewel walked down the stairs, gently patting Deuce on the head as he passed, “They’re fine, pup. I’m going to gather the Shroud boy and then prepare a proper medical report. As far as we should be concerned, this is completely natural for Yuu, if a bit painful.” He reached into his coat, pulled out his pipe kit and started to fill it as he walked away, “But for now, Azul, Floyd, and Jade are to look after them until I come back. You other pups are to return to your scheduled activities and tell no one about this.”

Ace looked to the side nervously, thankfully unseen by anyone before he nodded and started to make his way down the path behind Crewel. Deuce sighs but nods, calmed by the info that Yuu was okay at least. He jogs down the path after Ace, none of them are really surprised when muffled yelling could be heard a little down the way.

Azul looked out of the corner of his eye, catching Jamil giving him an intense glare. He knew Jamil was upset at the turn of events, the very fact Azul was picked over him would be enough to anger the Scarabian student. Let alone being picked by their lover’s pseudo-father figure as their keeper. He turns entirely to him, smiling and opening his mouth to pacify his lover-in-law before Jamil interrupts him.

Jamil turned his back on Azul, walking down the path to get back to campus. He quickly scooped Grim into his arms, ignoring the monster hissing and fighting his grip, “Just make sure they eat something high in iron.” That was all he said before he was also gone from view, walking past the row of trees acting as a fence of the property.

Silence passes the three students before Azul squeals, smiling wide and pumping his fist, “YES! He trusts me! You both saw that! He gave me his faith that I would tend to our lover. It’s only a matter of time before I can talk him into transferring!”

Floyd rolls his eyes, walking back into the house with a snickering Jade behind him, “Either you take care of my Shrimpy or they’ll kill you themselves…” he mutters under his breath, pout turning into a frown as the scent of blood hits him harder inside.

Jade’s own mirth decreases at the smell. He hums looking around the dorm. Yuu wouldn’t want the windows open, not to mention the smell would simply travel over the campus. The last thing they needed was Malleus smelling Yuu’s blood in the air. Seven could only think of the disaster that would bring. He looks up the stairs, only half listening as Azul enters the dorm to bicker with Floyd.

“-fact you would insinuate I wouldn’t take care of my pearl is insult enough, Floyd.”

“Ehe~? I just said Shrimpy wouldn’t let you slide with shitty service. You scared of a little blood Azul~?”

“I will dock your pay-”

“I’ll go sit with Yuu, keep them company.” Jade smiled over his shoulder, already walking up the stairs. He pauses halfway up the stairs, tilting his head at their stares, “Unless I’m allowed free range of their meal?”

Floyd instantly perked up, rushing to the kitchen whining with a glare at his brother, “No way! You’ll make some weird mushroom thing that’ll make Shrimpy even sicker!”

Azul stays for only a moment before he follows Floyd, giving Jade one last look, “Do make sure my pearl is in good condition. If you can wake them up, ask if they would like a bath.”

“Will do.”

Jade parts with Azul, walking onto the second floor and toward Yuu’s room. He rested his hand on the doorknob and breathed in deep. Yuu’s blood was interesting, he’s always found it to be since he first smelled that foreign flora that no one could place. But that didn’t mean he wanted to smell it so strongly. He took in another deep breath in hope if he smelled it thoroughly enough the tightness of worry would loosen in his chest. Once calm he creaked the door open, knocking on it gently as he peaked his head in, “Yuu, I’m coming in.”

A simple groan answers him. That was acceptance of entry enough for him. He closes the door behind him and walks to sit in the armchair, moving it just a foot or so closer to the bed. Yuu had rotated since he last saw them. Now lying on their front with the blanket uncovered to their calves, arms wrapped around a pillow and eyes closed. If it wasn’t for the brief moments of their eyebrows creasing in pain, Jade would think they were perfectly fine.

A few minutes pass before Yuu opens their eyes, vision slightly hazy from pain, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Jade smiles, leaning forward to poke their cheek in greeting, “I’m guessing whatever is going on is quite painful?”

“Very much, yes.” They groan, snuggling into their pillow, “Periods are a bitch.”

“Azul said something about that. ‘Period’. That’s what it’s called?” When Yuu confirms, he leans back into the chair, humming under his breath. Now that things had calmed down, Jade couldn't help but call the whole scenario interesting. Finding differences in biology was always a fascinating venture, “Tell me about it.”

“Are you sure? It’s kinda gross and like…as you saw, pretty bloody.”

Jade chuckles, raising a hand to cover his mouth coyly, “I already said I want to know! Please don’t tease me in such a way!” He preens, feeling a small wave of pride at hearing Yuu laugh.

“You’re so weird…Alright.” Yuu angled herself to look over to Jade, raising an eyebrow, “What do you wanna know?”

“Is the bleeding just the first step of it? Do you gain internal injuries to produce the blood? Is the pain a result of-”

“I’m gonna just…stop you right there…” Yuu took a moment, trying to not laugh again, not wanting to change their towels yet, “So…Periods are weird because I feel like I'm injured but it’s all natural because of hormones are whatever.”

“Your hormones make your internal organs stimulate injuring themselves?” he takes a moment to look around the room. Standing up to grab a notepad and pencil from Yuu’s desk before returning to the armchair, "We have basic health classes in middle school. But I've never heard of hormones causing internal bleeding."

“Eh…more like the hormones jumpstart a refreshing process? Not so much internal bleeding.”

Jade smiled wide, his pencil poised to write down every word they said, "Do tell.”

Azul texted Crewel to bring an iron supplement potion along with the pain potions. Yuu didn’t have any food besides snacks and her childish cereals, how Floyd managed to find enough items for a seafood alfredo was nothing short of a miracle by Azul’s standards. Sure it wasn’t high in iron like Yuu needed, but it would be warm and something for her to eat.

They were still worried. How could they not be? Their dear friend was a floor above them basically bleeding out from an intimate area that shouldn’t be bleeding. Crewel’s behavior had calmed most of their nerves, Yuu strangely wouldn’t lie to Crewel nearly as much as she would any other teacher. And Crewel wouldn’t be half as calm if something had actually happened. But as Floyd had said to him, ‘It still felt gross’. All of them forced to twiddle their thumbs and wait for Crewel or Yuu to give them all the facts instead of just dismissing their horrific theories.

Floyd scooped the pasta dish into a bowl, as Yuu preferred it, shoving a fork in it and walked past Azul. He didn’t bother to listen to Azul tell him to stop and wait for Yuu to get up from her nap or call for them. He didn’t want to. The only reason he cooked instead of Jade was because his brother couldn’t be trusted in a kitchen alone without shoving mushrooms into something. At least not while Azul was as distracted as he was. But he was just as worried as the others, Yuu was his Shrimpy. He’d share with his brother and Azul. But as far as he was concerned he was doing just that, sharing. Shrimpy was his to look after for as long as she hung around him. And he was already in a bad mood from earlier thinking he had failed her.

“Floyd, Yuu might still be sleeping, we shouldn’t bother them.” Azul scolded him, trying to keep his voice down while making sure it carried a harshness.

“Don’t care. I wanna check on Shrimpy…”

Azul kept quiet before he sighed. He pulled out his handkerchief, if Yuu was still sleeping he could cover the bowl so they could eat later. It would be lukewarm at best, but it’d be clean and ready for Yuu when they woke up, “Fine. Let’s go check on them…”

Floyd didn’t bother to knock, opening the door one-handed and ignoring Azul’s groan behind him, “Shrimpy~, you awake?”

Yuu rolled over, smiling with an edge of weariness, and waved, “Hi Floyd~.”

“Shrimpy!” Floyd nearly dropped the bowl onto the bed sheets, moving to hug and squeeze his best friend. The scent of blood was still strong but just knowing that his friend was okay was enough to keep him in a positive mood. Pulling away, he passes the bowl properly to them, “You doing alright?”

Yuu smiles as Azul moves quickly to place his handkerchief onto her lap, a small comment on the bowl being hot. She kept eye contact with the cecaelian until Azul turned away with a blush. But, she does place the bowl on her lower stomach, the heat helping more than the boys knew, “Thank you for the food. And no, I’m in pain.”

Floyd’s relaxed expression instantly changes, dropping into a frown and downward brows, “Why? What happened to make you bleed like this Shrimpy? If we were in the ocean you’d be a chum magnet…”

Jade looked up from his notes, “Muscle tension.”

“Huh?” Both Azul and Floyd turned to him in confusion.

Jade taps at the notepad, showing the lines of neat handwriting with various questions sprinkled around it, “Yuu’s body is physically pushing the blood out by contracting their pelvic muscles. The involuntary spasms are causing some intense muscle cramps.”

Azul frowns, his hand moving to press on their stomach, almost trying to feel the sensation, “When will it stop? Losing this much blood can’t be good for you…”

Jade looked over his notes, sighing at his findings, “Yuu says this lasts four days normally for them.”

“Four days?” Both Azul and Floyd exclaimed, worry evident in their voices.

Yuu smiled, leaning against their pillows, “Seven is the standard.”

Azul whips his head back to Yuu, eyes wide and glasses nearly falling off his face, “Seven!?”

“How do you stop it?” Floyd looked the most distressed out of all of them, simply looking at Yuu’s lap with poorly veiled concern.

“Oh, Azul, you’ll love this.” Jade beamed, eyes reading over his writing, “This is apparently happening because Yuu didn’t get pregnant.”

…

Floyd turned to look at Azul, voice deadpan, “Azul, hurry up and knock Shrimpy up so we don’t have to deal with this.”

The scandalized look on Azul’s face makes Yuu burst into laughter, blood be damned. The cecaelian stuttered out a rambled form of scolding and excuses on how he couldn't 'Knock Them Up' and how it was no one’s business what he and his lover did in the bedroom. He only grew more flustered seeing the smiles on the twins' faces, knowing they were internally mocking him and his distressed state.

He snaps his fingers, a golden contract appearing beside him. Gripping it fiercely, he points to the four names signed at the bottom, "In any case! Per our official ‘Quad Agreement’, only Draconia is allowed to impregnate Yuu and that's not even in effect until they’ve both graduated!" With another snap, the scroll was gone, leaving Azul huffing and crossing his arms.

Yuu quiets their laughter, reaching out a hand to hold Azul’s, " Aw~. Are you mad you can't give me an octo baby?"

"I'm mad because you're in pain and the one way to stop this is something we can't do for years!" Azul does loosen his arms, both hands coming to cradle their outstretched one, "You've been acting odd all week before this whole bleeding mess even started. We were worried…"

Floyd pouts, resting his head on Yuu's shoulder, uncaring of how far he had to bend, "You punched me for trying to give you a piggyback ride, Shrimpy. Really hurt my feelings."

"You had seemed quite lethargic the past few days." Jade gave a worried smile, tone clear in just how concerned the past events had made him.

Yuu looked at all of them in shock, looking at the slowly cooling bowl of pasta before they covered their mouth. The room was silent until Yuu closed their eyes and tried to fight back the whimper threatening to leave their throat.

"...Yuu-"

"You guys care so much about me…so much…" Yuu lets go of the bowl, both hands fanning at their face as their eyes well up with tears, "And I've been such a bitch to you." Their voice cracked and slid into a high-pitched wail as the tears started to fall.

Jade’s eyes widened, his mouth opening in a silent gasp as he quickly shared a panicked look with Azul, " O-oh, oh no."

The cecaelian babbled, stuttering under his breath and hovering his hands over Yuu’s body. He wasn’t sure if Yuu wanted to be physically comforted, or even touched, “Yuu? What’s wrong, are you in more pain? Do you need me to call Crewel!?”

Floyd hesitantly pats at Yuu’s head, not wanting a repeat of being sucker punched in the face the last time he touched an upset Yuu, “There, there Shrimpy. Just eat your food…”

Still crying, taking shaky breaths while gathering a collection of noodles and seafood on their fork, “You guys are so nice to me. And I’m a bad friend…”

Jade was subtly leaning away, pressing his back deeper into the chair as he eyed Yuu with mild suspension, “No…You’re a perfectly good friend to us, Yuu.” Hormonal changes would explain Floyd’s notice of Yuu’s scent being 'off'. He assumed the different levels had only affected their body as they had stated. But it seemed their emotions were also being affected. A moody Floyd is something he grew up with, he knew every tell Floyd could give. A hormonally moody Yuu was new and dangerous territory as far as Jade was concerned.

Even with their reassurance, Yuu’s tears wouldn’t stop. The three males grew more uneasy, simply watching their friend bleed on her bed and eat lukewarm pasta while she softly cried. They shared a look between the three of them before Azul stepped forward, a nervous smile on his face while he gently caressed her hair.

“It’s…it’s ok my pearl.”

Yuu looked up, sniffling pitifully before pressing her head into his hand, “I’m sorry I’m so mean to you…”

Azul chuckles, pressing a kiss to their cheek before pulling away, “It’s ok. I will admit, I do like when you’re a bitch.”

The sweet air was gone in a second. Yuu’s crying stopping as though a switch was flipped. They glared up at Azul, “Did you just call me a bitch!?”

“...” Azul looked to the side then back to her, pulling his hand back, “I-”

“So you think I’m a bitch!?”

“No?” The confusion in his voice was clear. He looked at the twins who were just as puzzled, the two eel-mers quickly shrugging at his silent question as to what he did.

They also had no clue how to proceed. Yuu would normally either let them in on, or at least make their goal clear when they toyed with Azul. But this sort of rapid-fire mood change was not in their MO. It was even more so than Floyd could keep up with.

Yuu turned back to their pasta, tears coming back full force as their anger disappeared, “You’re lying to me…”

“...Would you feel better if I thought you were a bitch?”

“What is that supposed to mean!?”

Hours later, Floyd opened the door, disheveled and pouting at Crewel and Ortho, “Knifejaw…Hurry up and fix Shrimpy. They’re really mean like this and I’m sick of it.”

Crewel raised an eyebrow, walking into the dorm and waving a hand to send Ortho up before him, “Are they? More so than normal?” He said it with a jovial air, teasing his student since his own moods were the things of nightmares.

“Yes. If I felt like it, I would beg. I can’t handle them like this…”

“...”

Well, that was concerning… Floyd followed Crewel back up the stairs. Opening Yuu’s bedroom he realized that Floyd wasn’t kidding. Next to a standing Ortho Yuu sat on the bed, now cocooned in one of their blankets in Azul’s lap. Tear tracks on their cheeks and angrily sniffling between hand-fed forkfuls of pasta. Azul was sweating, oozing a nervous energy as though he were defusing a bomb and not feeding his lover. Jade sat in the far corner, chair pressed against the wall as far back as it could be and furiously writing notes.

Ortho beeped, eyes showing he was smiling under his mask, “Body scan complete! No external injuries are to be found!” He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Yuu and resting his head on them, “I’m so glad you’re ok, Prefect Yuu!”

Floyd huffs from the doorway, glaring at the display, “Oh, he can hug you but I get punched if I try?”

Yuu glares, eyes just peaking through Ortho’s flaming hair, “I could never hit Ortho, he’s baby.”

“Prefect Yuu is right, I am baby.” the smug tone was just barely heard through Ortho’s normal frequency of cheer. Looking up his bright yellow eyes meet Yuu’s, “Oh! Just so you know, Ace told the rest of us what was going on in our group chat. Though Crewel-Sensei told me that no one was supposed to know. In his defense though, the timestamps show Ace gave the information before Crewel-Sensei gave the order to not tell anyone.”

Yuu looks over to their phone on the nightstand, groaning at the wall of texts they’re sure is waiting for them, “God damn it.”

Sighing, Crewel waved his hand, “This is very cute, but Ortho you’re here for medical purposes. Let’s not get distracted.”

“Right!” Ortho stands up straight, holding out a hand as his other arm morphs to produce a syringe. “Prefect Yuu, may I have your arm to take a blood sample?”

Even though it looked like that was the last thing Yuu wanted to do, they managed to remove their arm from the blanket cocoon to place in Ortho’s waiting hand. Looking away while Ortho set to work finding a vein.

Crewel walked to the bed, grabbing a potion from his coat and uncorking it in one fluid movement, “How are you feeling, pup?”

“Like I’m in pain. The same as two hours ago. What kind of fucking question-” A fork full of pasta and sauce was shoved into their mouth, cutting them off from cussing out their teacher/father. Azul smiled timidly when Yuu’s glare snapped to him. Muttering through their food as they chewed, “Don’t you ever fucking try to silence me with pasta, again.”

Waiting until Yuu had swallowed and taken a breath, Crewel shoved the opening of the potion bottle to Yuu’s mouth and forcibly made them drink it, taking care to not justle their arm while Ortho drew blood. He adored his pup. But he was not going to sit idle and let them bark at him like they had the right, “That’s nice sweetie. Take your medicine, you’ll feel better.”

He only let up once the flask was empty, pulling away and placing the glass back into his coat. Yuu’s glare slowly softens, tense body finally relaxing in Azul’s nervous hold. They sigh, dropping their head into the crook of Azul’s neck, nosing into the flushed skin before pulling away to rest their cheek on his shoulder, “Sorry…about threatening your life and stuff. Forgot how bad cramps were…”

Azul, slowly wrapped his arms around them, nuzzling into their hair, “It’s…ok? So long as you’re feeling better now. Were you truly in that much pain?”

Floyd hums from the doorway, folding his arms, “I guess I can give you a pass then. I don’t like being in pain either, it’d make me just as crabby as you’ve been…”

Jade nodded from his corner, but made no move to come closer, “And it’s been nearly 6 hours since the supposed start of all of this. Does the pain really last the whole cycle?”

Yuu nods, “Yeah…I normally take pain meds when I realize it’s started so I don’t feel the worst of it. I take another dose either daily or just when I feel the first dose wearing off. But I didn’t have any potions in the house so I was gonna nap it off until Sam got my order.”

“All done!” Ortho spoke up, the vial of blood being placed in a secondary pouch for safety. Morphing his hand back, he placed his hands on Yuu’s lower stomach, tingles of something pulsing from Ortho’s fingers as he performed another scan, “In the most scientific phrasing you can, tell me what’s going on so I can add it to your file.”

Without missing a beat, Yuu answered, “My vagina is internally peeling and the liquidated lining is being pushed out.”

…

Ortho closed his eyes and stood up straight, arms resting at his sides. Turning around he walked out of the room, brushing past Floyd and closing the door behind him.

“...” Azul looked at Yuu, the horror from earlier that day returning to his face full force, “Your what is what now!?”

The sound of Jade’s pencil scratching at the notepad starts up again, muttering under his breath about needing more paper. Rushing to the desk and flipping through notebooks for a clean page.

Floyd simply looked sick by the door, the visual refusing to leave his mind.

“You know…” Crewel chuckled under his breath, more annoyed than mirthful, “That would have been a wonderful nugget of knowledge to have two hours ago.”

“I would have loved to not be in pain for half the day, but we don’t all get the raisin butter, do we?”

“Yuu.”

“It is really that different here?”

“Does blood come gushing out of female anatomy for a week? No, no it doesn’t. Yes, it’s different, puppy.”

Yuu sat quietly, looking down before raising their gaze back to Crewel, “I should probably learn more about the biology of this place…”

Crewel shook his head, annoyance clear in his expression while he pulled out folders from his bag, “Yeah you really should.” muttering under his breath about a ‘Dumb adorable dog’ as he slapped the papers on the bedspread, “So to start, there is a similar process-”

Floyd, opens the door, “Yeah, I’m leaving I’m bored and kinda freaked out.”

“Bye, Floyd! Sorry for punching you again.”

“Bye, Shrimpy~! Don’t bleed out!” He slammed the door behind him.

Jade sighed, standing from the armchair, “I should make sure he’s not doing anything too destructive. Best of luck to yourself, Yuu.”

Yuu waves to him while he leaves the room. They look to Azul, raising an eyebrow in question, “You wanna leave too?”

Azul mused for a moment. Female health classes weren’t something he was required to know, nor wanted to know. Anatomy in the Coral Sea was extensive enough, adding on surface world versions couldn’t be too different in hindsight. He might need the info later on in his life, maybe for a deal. Maybe to use it for a creative writing class, would Yuu find it distasteful if he wrote about their period in a horror setting?

“Azul?”

“I’ll stay.”

“Fine.” Crewel smacked his crop in his hand, twirling it to make the papers float and act as a PowerPoint, “Since you scared away the Shroud boy, I’ll have to do it this way.” Pointing toward a digraph of a uterus he spoke, “Luckily enough everything seems to be the same hardware-wise if your previous medical scans are anything to go by. Though, because you don’t have magic in your world, your bodies evolved a more… physical process.”

“Are you seriously telling me you bitches don’t get periods because you have magic?”

Azul slowly lifted a forkful of food to Yuu’s mouth, shakingly offering it like a sacrifice. He found that food was an easy way to calm their seemingly blind rage. He’d have to ask Jade for his notes later since he was too busy trying to keep Yuu and Floyd from fighting each other. He softly breathes a sigh of relief when Yuu lets him stuff the food into their mouth.

Crewel watched the exchange silently before continuing, “Yes…The process here is done normally after a day at most. The body’s natural magic will flare up and revitalize the uterus lining instead of…removing it.” He waved his crop, a photo of a body and various systems replacing the first example, “As I’ve told you before, everyone in Twisted Wonderland has magic naturally in their body’s cells simply from the magical byproduct of our world. So even if someone can not do magic, their body can still store magic to perform such cycles. It’s why scarring is so rare. Seeing how with modern medicine and the body’s cell restorative magic, healing has reached an almost perfect standard.”

Yuu was quiet, looking over the visual examples as Crewel continued his impromptu lecture. Leaning forward, they sighed out for so long it had morphed into a cry. They simply pushed away from Azul, ignoring him when he tried to comfort them. Turning away, they landed face first into the mattress and cried into their pillow. Through their sobs, muffled by the cushion they yelled, “This fucking sucks! I can’t even bitch with anyone else about how much this hurts!”

Azul looked at them in worry, barely noticing the red smears on his pants, “My pearl? Do you want pasta? Pasta makes it better right?”

“Azul, I’m getting real tired of you trying to feed me. I’m not a fucking wild horse you can soothe with delightful seafood pasta!”

…

Crewel raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the offered bowl in Azul’s shaking hands, “So do you not want the pasta-”

“Yes, I want the fucking pasta!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #yuu oc #twst wonderland #twst azul #azul ashengrotto #twst floyd #floyd leech #twst jade #jade leech #octavinelle #papa crewel #twst crewel #divus crewel #twst ortho #ortho shroud

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icarusignite · 5 months

Text

These Violent Delights (1)

Chapter 1: Marigolds and Mayhem

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x OC

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Academic rivals, Coriolanus Snow and Artemis Highbottom must compete for the Plinth prize. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: Check out the masterlist for a better synopsis lol. As usual, don't be a ghost reader. I live for yalls comments/questions/concerns/reactions, even a keyboard smash is highly appreciated and encouraged ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Masterlist

Drip.

It was the third nosebleed of the night and Artemis was just about tired of it. She didn't even bother stemming the flow, allowing the carmine rivulets to trace an unhurried path from her nostrils to the marble below.

The hush of running water met the heavy rhythm of a beating heart, and there she stood—a lone figure, framed by the harsh edges of the sink, her grip upon it almost desperate. She could feel the sharpness imprinting into her skin, and yet still she clung, her skin stretched across her knuckles almost comically grotesque.

She watched the blood, in an almost detached sort of way. It could be art, she mused, the juxtaposition of sanguine against sterile white. A whispered revelation danced at the edge of her consciousness—anything could be art if you framed it the right way. Even the bloodiest of carnages. A spectacle, a thing to be enjoyed.

Artemis looked up, and her reflection stared back, menacingly. The mirror, an unforgiving oracle, revealed a distorted visage, one she both did and did not recognize. Her dark hair, cascaded in disarray, entangled in the aftermath of sleep's elusivity and her eyes harbored shadows akin to a painter's bruised palette. The reflection mocked, a cruel mimicry of the composed persona she so ardently sought to maintain.

Out of control.

Unbidden judgment pierced through her thoughts, a verdict she loathed to acknowledge.

No that could not be right.

Artemis Highbottom was always in control.

She despised this discordance, this disruption to her meticulously curated world. To her, it was anathema, but nature could not be controlled, and what was more natural than blood? Perhaps it was fitting, that this fundamental of humanity could not be dominated.

Blood could never be dishonest, and it had the power to reveal one's innermost truths.

With unyielding determination, Artemis scrubbed at the remnants of the crimson tide that painted her face, an act of restitution against the chaos that dared to invade her pristine sanctuary. Each abrasive stroke was an attempt to erase not just the physical residue but a deeper discord. She worked quietly, although there was no one else to hear. There was never anyone to hear her, her gilded halls always vacant, but Artemis spoke silence like a second language and old habits die hard. She spared her father a brief thought, wondering where he could possibly be at such a late hour but it didn't really matter. He just wasn't here. He never was.

Raw skin met her touch, and the blood, now vanquished, left in its wake a battlefield—a canvas of sacrifice for the sake of semblance.

The mess was an unwelcome intrusion there were far worse ways to be awoken. If she was busy cleaning up after her nosebleeds, then she wasn't sleeping, and if she wasn't sleeping, then she wasn't dreaming.

The walk to the Academy's Heavensbee Hall was a brisk one, although, in the sweltering heat, Artemis found herself increasingly short-tempered. She was going to be late, but she kept her pace measured. She would not arrive a panting sweaty mess like some savage. It had been a foolish idea, she knew that, but she had given her own driver the day off anyway, waiting instead for her father. His presence was expected, and she imagined it would have been a pleasant change of routine to accompany him. He was probably running late, she told herself. After all, she hadn't seen him return, and she would know, she was awake half the night.

The grand staircase up to the Academy could hold the entire student body, so it easily accommodated the stream of officials, professors, and students headed for the reaping day festivities. Artemis sped up, taking three steps at a time, while still attempting a casual dignity. Every other person she passed stopped to wave her down and exchange pleasantries, and although her impatience was rising, she kept a placid smile stretched across her lips as she greeted them all in turn. She nodded when they asked after her, and then nodded some more, albeit less enthusiastically when they asked about her father.

She made her way through an entry draped in black banners, then sprinted down a vaulted passage, and into cavernous Heavensbee Hall, where they would watch the broadcast of the reaping ceremony. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that she wasn't quite as late as she believed, and the official ceremony hadn't yet started. The hall was humming with faculty and students and a number of Games officials.

Avoxes wove through the crowd with trays of posca, a concoction of watery wine laced with honey and herbs. One passed by Artemis, and despite her parched throat, she waved him away. On principle, she avoided any and all intoxicants. It was stronger than most people thought, and in previous years she had seen many make complete fools of themselves by imbibing too deeply. Artemis would be damned if she allowed herself to lose control like that. That and given her father's dependence on morphling, she imagined she must be genetically predisposed to addiction.

In the great hall, she was once again forced to make her rounds, as faculty and students alike beckoned to introduce her to their circles. She eventually travelled past the hundreds of cushioned chairs set up for the occasion and onto the dais, where the communications professor, Satyria Click was regaling a mix of Academy professors and Games officials with some wild story. Amongst the gathered crowd was the biology instructor, Alfred Stanton, who stood off to the side, eyes deliberately wandering the area as if to make a show of his boredom. When his eyes caught sight of Artemis, he brightened, his face lifting in a smile as he waved her over.

Oh great, more greetings. If Artemis had to utter another false pleasantry, she'd lose her breakfast.

No, she wouldn't. She knew better than that. Besides, she was Professor Stanton's teaching aide, and it was quite literally in her job description to be at his beck and call.

When she arrived, she scowled internally. It was inevitable, she knew that, but she was hoping that at least today of all days, she'd be delayed in setting eyes upon the one person who held the power of ruining her mornings.

"Oh, Coriolanus!" Satyria drawled, as the blonde boy gave her the customary kiss on the cheek. "Here’s my star pupil.”

Artemis held no qualms against Satyria, not really. She was amusing and not overly uptight, one of the few professors who allowed students to call them by their first names. It was her teaching aide against whom she held a grudge.

Professor Stanton, not to be outdone, clapped his meaty hand on Artemis's shoulder, making her stagger. Maybe the man needed to lay off the weightlifting for a bit. He announced her presence to the circle enthusiastically, earning a scowl from Satyria.

"And Artemis, my star pupil. We were afraid we'd miss you this morning."

Artemis ducked her head bashfully, mumbling something about running late, but Professor Stanton only laughed boisterously, as he continued to speak.

Coriolanus Snow was seething. Well, no that was perhaps a little extreme. Artemis Highbottom did not deserve such a reaction from him. She didn't deserve the energy. When he hadn't seen her earlier today, he had deluded himself into thinking that she simply wouldn't come. She was never late after all, so the fact of the matter must be that she simply wasn't coming. With her gone, he could be the sole beneficiary of the crowd's attention, networking his way into their hearts.

Then he had seen her arrive, panting and slightly out of breath and he had to admit he marveled at the sight. Her coffee skin flushed and her hair thrown over her shoulder haphazardly as if she'd been running. Coriolanus had been amused, to say the least. He had hoped that she wouldn't wander over to his little corner, that he would be able to have Satyria's circle all to himself, but it was wishful thinking. People knew of him of course, being the son of Crassus Snow and all, but he realized that they tended to forget about him in her presence. After all, it was far easier to garner the good graces of one's father if he was still alive. Even if said father was Casca High-as-a-Kite-Bottom. Snow sniggered at the nickname, a creation of his own genius.

Almost as if she could read his mind, Artemis shot him a withering glare, and Coriolanus stiffened, standing straighter to shoot her one back. The circle had shifted, placing him right next to her and if he stretched his fingers, they'd brush against hers. Not that he'd want to of course. How utterly repulsive.

“Beautiful shirt. Where did you get such a thing?” Satyria was addressing Snow now, surveying him carefully.

He looked at the shirt as if surprised by its existence and gave the shrug of a young man of limitless options. They didn't have to know that all that was left to him was his name. The world still needed to think of Coriolanus as rich.

“The Snows have deep closets,” he said airily. “I was trying for respectful yet celebratory.”

Artemis held back a snort.

Celebratory, my ass.

The Snows' closets were as deep as their pockets, which was to say, containing all the depth of a bottlecap. Standing this close to him, she could almost smell the faint scent of dead marigolds and potato starch his shirt was emitting.

"Is something funny, Miss Highbottom?" Coriolanus turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

Just your pathetic fibbing skills, she wanted to say. Perhaps she had not been as discreet with her expressions as she thought she'd been because he was still waiting for an answer.

"Not at all, Mr. Snow," Artemis gave him one of her very best saccharine smiles. "I just agree with Satyria. That is indeed a lovely shirt."

Their professor beamed, happy to be validated.

“And so it is. What are these cunning buttons?” Satyria asked, fingering one of the cubes on his cuff. “Tesserae?”

“Are they? Well, that explains why they remind me of the maid’s bathroom,” Coriolanus responded, drawing a chuckle from her friends.

This was the impression he fought to sustain. A reminder that he was the rare person who had a maid’s bathroom — let alone one tiled with tesserae — tempered with a self-deprecating joke about his shirt.

He nodded at Satyria. “Lovely gown. It’s new, isn’t it?” He could tell at a glance that it was the same dress she always wore to the reaping ceremony, refurbished with tufts of black feathers. But she had validated his shirt, and he needed to return the favour.

As he did so, his eyes couldn't help but return to the figure at his side. While Satyria's renovated dress made him feel better about his own attire, brought to life only through his cousin Tigris's efforts, Artemis's had the exact opposite effect. It was new, almost obscenely so. Wasteful extravagance, he thought to himself bitterly. What a vain and shallow creature, but such was the case with all the Capitol women he supposed.

"What a wonderful ensemble, Artemis!" Satyria crowed once again. "You absolutely must give me the details of your dressmaker. Doesn't she look lovely, Coriolanus?"

Snow blinked. The question was directed at him, clearly, but he couldn't force the words out, even as his professor looked at him expectantly.

“Elegant,” he finally stated blandly.

Liar.

Artemis's eyes flashed at him triumphantly, almost as if calling him out.

The adults wandered off, and their company was replaced by that of their classmates. Arachne Crane slipped her arm into Artemis's as soon she was within range, and Artemis sent her a smile that was only slightly less false than the one she had been wearing all morning.

"Finally, and here I thought our star pupils would be too busy to give us humble folk time of day," she complained.

"Don't ever use the word humble, Arachne," the boy to her right, Festus Creed, scoffed. "It does not suit you."

Arachne rolled her eyes and sipped her drink petulantly.

"Have you tried this lamb, it's scandalous!"

The only thing scandalous is the president's son eating with his hands, Artemis thought to herself, but she knew better than to say it out loud.

Lucky for her, Festus didn't.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers, Felix," he chastised. "What, daddy not teach you table manners?"

"Maybe he would have if he wasn't so busy running the country!" Felix retorted.

The conversation veered off in the direction of the Plinth Prize, and their eyes were drawn to the family standing off to a corner, speaking amongst themselves.

"Who would have thought that you could buy yourself into the capitol?" Felix muttered derisively.

"You can buy god himself, provided you have the resources," Artemis finally commented.

"You can't buy class though. Did you see Sejanus's mother's outfit," Festus paused for dramatic effect before sniggering. "Sorry, his ma's."

At least he had a mother who cared for him, which is more than Artemis could say for the imbeciles around her exhibiting motherless behaviour.

"Dress a turnip in a ballgown and it'll still beg to be mashed," Snow jeered.

Artemis scoffed. And here was the biggest motherless moron of them all.

"Interesting that you of all people should say that, Coriolanus," she eyed him carefully. Gone were the honorifics she had addressed him by earlier in front of the professors. This was a battlefield and there were no pleasantries in war.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

The two stared at each other, neither wanting to be the one to look away first and their classmates glanced between them uneasily.

Eventually, Coriolanus blinked, his ears burning, and Artemis flashed him a grin. If he wasn't thinking about carving the smile from her face, he might have thought it suited her.

If it was a battle of wills, Artemis was a born victor.

Their conversation about Sejanus came to a halt when he approached them. He didn't bother greeting any of them but he smiled at Artemis, which she heartily returned. Arachne shot her a questioning glance, but if the Capitol was a hierarchy, Artemis outranked her, and therefore did not have to answer to her.

Coriolanus eyed their interaction sullenly. He was a charmer, it was the only currency he had access to after all, and over the years he had made his best efforts to charm the Dean's enigmatic daughter. Perhaps he thought it'd make Dean Highbottom detest him a little less, if he had Artemis's favour, but although it appeared that she shared nothing else with her father, she shared in his disdain for Coriolanus. There was nothing he could do to endear himself to her, and he had long since stopped trying.

It especially irritated him, that it was Sejanus of all people who had managed to make friends with her. He did not even need the networking opportunity it provided. Snow observed the brunette boy now, his soft charcoal gray suit that reeked of money.

Sejanus’s father was a District 2 manufacturer who had sided with the president. He had made such a fortune off munitions that he’d been able to buy his family’s way into a life in the Capitol. The Plinths now enjoyed privileges that the oldest, most powerful families had earned over generations. It was unprecedented that Sejanus, a district-born boy, was a student at the Academy, but his father’s lavish donation had allowed for much of the school’s postwar reconstruction. A Capitol-born citizen would have expected a building to be renamed for them. Sejanus’s father had only requested an education for his son.

For Coriolanus, the Plinths and their kind were a threat to all he held dear. The newly rich climbers in the Capitol were chipping away at the old order simply by virtue of their presence. It was particularly vexing because the bulk of the Snow family fortune had also been invested in munitions — but in District 13. Their sprawling complex, blocks and blocks of factories and research facilities, had been bombed to dust. District 13 had been nuked, and the entire area still emitted unlivable levels of radiation. The center of the Capitol’s military manufacturing had shifted to District 2 and fallen right into the Plinths’ laps. When news of District 13’s demise had reached the Capitol, Coriolanus’s grandmother had publicly brushed it off, saying it was fortunate that they had plenty of other assets. But they didn’t.

Sejanus had arrived on the school playground ten years ago, a shy, sensitive boy cautiously surveying the other children with a pair of soulful brown eyes much too large for his strained face. When word had gotten out that he’d come from the districts, Coriolanus’s first impulse had been to join his classmates’ campaign to make the new kid’s life a living hell. He was glad he didn't because when Casca Highbottom's daughter befriended him, it put an end to all public acts of cruelty. They still mocked him in private, but that couldn't be helped. His district blood simply invited the scorn. Coriolanus's decision to simply ignore the boy had only reinforced his image. The other Capitol children took it to mean that baiting the district brat was beneath him, and Sejanus took it as decency. Neither take was quite accurate, but both worked in his favour.

"Sejanus," Festus grimaced. "You made it to the reaping for once."

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked," the brunette boy responded.

"Spill it, who won the prize?" Arachne inquired.

Sejanus scoffed. Like any of these rich Capitol children even needed it.

"Oh no, I'm not going to ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they all love his money. You know what that's like, don't you Arachne?"

Arachne scowled, leaning up to whisper in Artemis's ear about what a stuck-up thing he was. Artemis did not grace her with a response, but when the bell rang, and the students began to assemble in front of the dais, she took the opportunity to slip her arm out of Arachne's. Sejanus fell into step beside her then, taking the opportunity to slip a bottle of water into her hands.

"And this is for?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I know you can't stand the posca. Thought you might need something to drink, given all the talking they have you doing around here."

"And you thought I couldn't get myself some water?"

"I thought you shouldn't have to," he rubbed his neck ruefully. "Although I realize I might be a little late."

"I appreciate the gesture anyway. Thank you, Sejanus."

Artemis granted him her only real smile of the day. His sheepish smile reminded her of the day they first met, when this district boy with the cloddish accent first wandered up to her, offering her his bag of gumdrops.

She followed him to where a special section of chairs, six rows by four, had been set up for the mentors. To her chagrin, he took a seat to the right, leaving the only vacant seat next to one Coriolanus Snow. She felt the childish desire to kick his chair out from under him as he went to sit down, but shook away the traitorous thought. It was beneath her.

When her father began to speak, Artemis suppressed a sigh of exasperation. Dean Casca Highbottom, the man credited with the creation of the Hunger Games, presented himself to the students with all the verve of a sleepwalker, dreamy-eyed and, as usual, doped up on morphling. Artemis zoned out as he went on his usual spiel of how the Hunger Games, his displeasure at the whole event evident in his tone, although perhaps that was just the drugs talking.

"There has been a change this year. One final assignment to prove your worth, because the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the Games and simply aren't watching anymore. And if the Games are to continue at all, there must be an audience," he continued rambling. "Head Gamemaker Dr. Gaul has stepped in to incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flair. Starting with you. The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades...but by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games."

Nervous whispers fluttered among the students, as they exchanged uneasy glances. A subtle unease threaded its way through the crowd as they leaned in, both captivated and unsettled by the Dean's cryptic words.

Artemis had been aware of this turn of events, and so did Sejanus, as it was his family's money involved, but she took great satisfaction at the dumbfounded expression on Coriolanus's face when he heard the news. It made the dourness of the entire situation as a whole much more bearable.

"Your goal is to turn these children into spectacles, not survivors," Dean Highbottom announced.

Artemis was right. Anything could be art. Anything could be turned into a spectacle, even the most depraved of carnages, and what greater carnage was there than the Hunger Games?

Artemis did not need the Plinth Prize. She imagined her father would finance her higher education as he did all her other luxuries, but perhaps he might look at her differently if she won it. Perhaps it might gain his admiration. Perhaps he might respect her if she earned something of her own for once. Perhaps he might finally return home sometimes.

She did not care much for the Games, in the sense that they held no significance for her, so far removed were they from her daily life. Her classmates were a varied spectrum on where they stood, ones like Sejanus speaking out firmly against the ritual, and others enjoyed the butchery, the slaughtering of district lives. Artemis simply did not care. They were irrelevant, but if it meant gaining her father's approval, Artemis would make herself care.

As the large screens in front of them came to life with life footage from the reapings, Dean Highbottom began to recite the mentor assignments.

"District One, boy, goes to . . .” he squinted at the paper, trying hard to focus. “Glasses,” he mumbled. “Forgot them.” Everyone stared at his glasses, already perched on his nose, and waited while his fingers found them. “Ah, here we go. Livia Cardew.”

Livia’s pointed little face broke into a grin and she punched the air in victory, shouting “Yes!” in her shrill voice. She had always been prone to gloating. As if the plum assignment was solely a reflection on her, and not on her mother running the largest bank in the Capitol. Purely by chance, Artemis exchanged a cursory glance with Coriolanus just then, secretive like a private joke, which left her feeling quite unsettled.

Coriolanus felt increasing desperation as Dean Highbottom stumbled through the list, assigning each district’s boy and girl a mentor. After ten years, a pattern had emerged. The better-fed, more Capitol-friendly districts of 1 and 2 produced more victors, with the fishing and farming tributes from 4 and 11 also being contenders. Coriolanus had hoped for either a 1 or a 2, but neither was assigned to him, which was made more insulting when Sejanus scored the District 2 boy, and Artemis the girl.

Unlike Livia, Artemis received news of her good fortune with tact, pushing her sheet of raven hair over her shoulder as she studiously made note of her tribute in her binder. Their brief moment of camaraderie during Livia's outburst was forgotten as she shot him a smug smirk and he seethed.

District 4 passed without mention of his name, and his last real chance for a victor — the District 11 boy — was assigned to Clemensia Dovecote, daughter of the energies secretary. Something was amiss when a Snow, who also happened to be one of the Academy’s high-honour students, had gone unrecognized. Coriolanus was beginning to think they had forgotten him — perhaps they were giving him some special position? — when, to his horror, he heard Dean Highbottom mumble, “And last but not least, District Twelve girl . . . she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

#coriolanus x oc #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #sejanus plinth #sejanus x oc #sejanus x reader #katniss everdeen #academic rivals

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 month

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Wicked Fantasies Part 10 (MBJx Black OC)

A/N: sooooo this is just nonstop angst. Hence the gif selection and I am sorry lol we get into some tough shit. So warnings include: severe depression and negative self talk, harassment, etc. But as always enjoy! And remember… I’m a HEA girlie through and through ☺️

Hell on Earth was the only appropriate descriptor for the last 24 hours of Raven’s life. Trapped in her apartment due to the spectacle of paparazzi camped outside her building, her only activity was laying in bed unmoving hour after hour in the fetal position. She was grateful to Melody for taking her shift, she did not know if she would have been able to find the strength to get up to go anyway.

Raven tried her best to avoid social media but laying in her bed staring at the ceiling did not provide much distraction from the agony that coursed through her. This hurt eclipsed any pain from a physical wound that she had ever felt. It was paralyzing. And scrolling, even if she had to wade through stories and commentary on her own life as if she were a fictional character from the world’s latest Netflix obsession, offered some reprieve from thinking about him.

He consumed her every thought despite wanting nothing more than to rid her brain of him. But his claws were in too deep and even blocking his number had not offered relief when the only thing she wanted was to seek comfort from him. Her heart ached for him as if it would never be right again without his presence, his touch. But her brain would not allow her to call him or even unblock him. He was the curse, the disease… she certainly would find no cure in him.

The negative orator in her head called him a liar, reminded her that she did not deserve him and he knew it, which was why this all happened in the first place. So she stayed in her small ball in the corner of her bed fighting the urge to call him or break down into sobs again.

Her roommate checked on her every couple of hours and that was the sum of her human interaction since she left Michael’s house. She did not want to see or talk to anyone. So she didn’t. Her phone remained on DND, every call and text going unanswered. She knew she only had a few more days of this. The library had taken her off the schedule for a week, citing a need to figure out how to deal with the safety concerns this situation brought. But Raven knew the truth, the only available solution would be to let her go. Another job down the drain because of her terrible choices, because the only setting she seemed to know was self destruction.

That was all she knew how to do it… ruin her own life and the lives of everyone around her. She did not even speak to her family anymore and still knew, from her sister’s nonstop texts and calls that she didn’t respond to or answer, that even they were feeling the burn of her choices. Of course, Kiara was not wasting the opportunity to snag herself another 15 minutes of fame but she did not say anything worse than what Raven had already seen from strangers or did not already believe about herself.

Tears sprang to her eyes as thought about her own role in every bad turn and mistake her life had taken that led to this moment. She could blame Michael and her family but perhaps it was finally time to own that they were all right: it was her. She was the problem.

She chose to sell her body, even when she was in college as a dancer, to make a quick buck. She chose to do the same as an adult, she chose to enter into Michael’s ring of lies and she let him play as the fool. She could hate him but that meant she would also have to hate herself.

And acknowledging her hate for him was far less excruciating than examining how she brought this collapsing building right down on herself.

***

“What happened?”

“Damn, nigga. Can I get through the front door first or get a hello?”

Michael let out an impatient sigh and shifted out of the way so Alex could walk into his foyer. He had been a nervous wreck since she called an hour prior asking if she could swing by the house to talk. He had deleted social media from his phone so he did not have to see the vitriol being hurled at Raven. He did not care what people said about him but Alex literally had to stand over his shoulder and watch him delete every app to stop him from responding to every disgusting comment he read about her.

While his plan may have worked in popular media outlets and with sensible people online, he severely underestimated the contingent of very loud incels and pick-mes who would blame Raven regardless of how the story was presented to them.

“My bad. Hey. What happened?” he asked again, his tone signaling that he was not in the mood for Alex’s signature attitude. He needed answers and he needed them now. He would have time for pleasantries again and everything else when Raven forgave him. Or even just answered his phone calls and texts.

Michael gestured for Alex to follow him to the kitchen where he had been helping his mom and dad cook dinner. Or rather helping in between wearing a hole in his floor due to his incessant pacing and complaining about when Alex would arrive.

“I”m not gonna show you unless you calm the fuck down.” One side glance from his mother had Alex cringing at herself. “Sorry, Ms. Donna.”

The older woman merely nodded as she returned to her task of chopping vegetables.

“Well, I’ll start with the good news. I checked in on all your endorsements and deals and they said as long as this situation doesn’t evolve any further, they have no interest in dropping you. People still love you for some reason. And it’s been a week, so if old… partners were going to come out, they would’ve. All our Creed 3 press is still set but I had to do some rearranging now that the Oscars are set for the second weekend in March. So you’re going to Mexico City this weekend to get a head start. And we still have your interview slate for the Oscars set. You’re in for a busy six weeks… I know what’s going on with Raven is a lot but I need your head in the game, Mike. Seriously.”

“Alex! I don’t give a fuck about an interview schedule. What did you hear about Raven?”

“You know it’s literally my job to manage your career, not your continuously screwed up love life, right? Sometimes I worry you have it confused. But yes, I do have news on Raven too. Which is mostly… well all bad news. Most of the conversation has moved on. People are still attacking her on social but that’s not all that surprising. Vultures are still circling her apartment, not as many but a couple every day. Today was the first day she left the house in a week to go back to work. But… she got fired.”

Michael paused his pacing in shock. He knew how much that job, however she came to need it, meant to Raven. It had been a refuge during one of the most painful times in her life and his actions had stolen that from her.

“WHAT?”

Alex scoffed. “I told you our plan wouldn’t be without consequences, Mike. It just had the least amount of them. You can’t be surprised. She worked at a public library with kids and the entire world found out she was a prostitute. She was probably an at-will employee so they don’t even need a reason to fire her. But paparazzi surrounding her job every day and idiots calling to campaign to get her fired is more than enough for most places. But that’s not… that’s not the worst part.” Alex’s stiletto tipped nails tapped against her screen a few times before she tossed it down on the kitchen island. “A contact at TMZ sent me a video a couple hours ago. They aren’t gonna post it,” she assured him. “But there were plenty of cameras so someone else might. Just forwarded it to you.”

Michael moved quickly to open his email, his body equally wrestling between wanting to see whatever this was and being afraid to. But he knew he did not have a choice. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he pressed play on the video. The TMZ reporter had their camera trained on Raven as she tried to fight her way out of the back exit to her car in the parking lot. It was from earlier today, Michael realizing that she must have gone into her shift only to be let go. However, she was not simply fighting through a sea of flashing lights and insensitive questions. There was also a small group of men hurling insults at her as she fought through the crowd.

“I guess niggas really don’t be having jobs cause who has the time to post outside of someone else’s job to harass them?” Alex muttered to no one in particular as Michael’s attention and focus remained trained on the video.

The words of everyone else in the video were just static to him because his eyes and attention were squarely set on Raven. His soul felt as if it was splintering into millions of pieces as he watched her. Despite the meticulous makeup painted and her stoic poker face, Michael could still see the sorrow and exhaustion in her eyes. He had seen such a look in her eyes before and it hurt then, but now it was somehow worse. A fatal wound because this time, it was his fault. He would not need a video for that look to haunt him for the rest of his life.

He continued watching despite wanting nothing more than to get in his car and race to her apartment. The video was chaotic as the cameraman tried to keep up with the mob of cameras and people and keep the focus on the woman at the center of the storm. Michael did not understand what happened when Raven suddenly stopped moving, her poker face gone as one of pure terror took over.

Michael’s eyes frantically searched the frame of the video for what changed, even pausing it for a moment, until he noticed a hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm. He watched as she frantically pulled against the force of the person but their grip was too tight. And he could hear the whimper of pain in her words as she begged him to let her go.

The altercation did not last long when one of the cameramen was able to break the man’s grip on her and Raven scurried off to her car, her eyes brimming with tears.

Michael forced his phone to go to sleep as he squeezed it in his fist. Michael usually existed at an emotional equilibrium but his rage felt all consuming. Is this what seeing red felt like? When your anger was so blinding, you could not see or think of anything that did not fuel that fire? The entire internet had become Inspector gadget to find Raven’s job and address to harass her but would they do the same for that guy? Someone who tried to do her harm? Michael merely wanted five minutes alone with him to exercise all that rage at someone who deserved it.

He did not say a word as he marched past Alex and out of his kitchen to the foyer where he kept his car keys and wallet. He grabbed both and angrily stomped out to the garage, his thoughts set on nothing other than seeing Raven. Even if he was only able to lay his eyes on her for a moment, he needed to see her. In the flesh.

“Michael! Mike! Stop! Stop!!” Alex raced after him, quickly catching up with him despite her high heels. Her hand grabbed the door of his car before he could fully climb in. “Where are you going?”

“To Raven’s.”

Alex’s arm jerked the car door away from him as he tried to pull it closed. “You need to give her time. You’re probably not the nigga she wants to see at her door right now. And… there are still cameras around her house. You don’t need -”

“You think I give a fuck about someone seein’ me go there?? Get outta my fuckin’ way, Alex. Now.” His voice lost its usual kind tone as he glared at her, his barely contained rage seeping out into the garage around them like thick smoke.

Alex’s grip loosened but she did not acquiesce fully. “At least let me come with you.”

Their standoff continued for mere seconds before he caved and gave her a few moments to get into the passenger’s seat. If allowing her to go with him was the only way to see his girl then he would let her ride along. But she would not be able to stop him from doing a damn thing, he knew that much.

They did not speak as he raced through LA to get to Raven’s apartment. He did not wait for Alex to get out or say anything as he walked into her building and made a beeline for the elevator. Before he knew it, he was banging on her door like the police had shown up.

“Ok calm down, we don’t need the whole damn floor filming this for that damn clock app,” Alex grumbled, Michael essentially ignoring her as he continued banging until the door flung open.

Her roommate stood there, a confused look on her face for a moment, before she glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Raven’s closed door.

“I need to see her.”

“I don’t think she’s up for visitors,” the young woman responded, her tone leaving little room for arguments. She tried to close the door but Michael stuck his foot in the doorway and stopped her.

“She doesn’t have to talk to me but I need to see her. Let me in.” Michael knew he had no right to demand entry into someone else’s home but he was at a loss, his hands were tied.

“What he means to say,” Alex stepped forward, pulling Michael back slightly, “is that he just wants to see she is ok after today with his own eyes. And then we’ll leave, I promise. Two minutes, that’s all we want. Please?”

“I’m not gonna force her to see you. You can wait here while I ask.”

She left them at the doorway to show themselves inside as she went to knock on Raven’s door.

“Raven? Can you come out here?”

He heard shuffling from behind her closed door before it cracked open. He could not see her but he could hear her voice, small and broken. A sound he never wanted to hear again. He was supposed to be the solution to her pain, not the cause of it.

“I d-don’t want to see him.”

“I just need a minute, Rae!” Michael did not wait for the invitation as he walked up to her door and gestured for her roommate to move out of his way. “Just let me see you… please.”

Raven leaned her head against the door frame as she debated whether to comply. Something in her demanded that she slam the door in his face. But her first on her doorknob merely shook as if she could not force herself to do it, her limbs refusing to obey her brain’s orders. She did not want to see him.

Whatever bandage she was using to stop the bleeding of this wound was immediately ripped off and her hurt flowed once again like blood at his mere presence. She could not even look at him, or rather was afraid to. Afraid that if she looked into those eyes, she would believe whatever sad tale of love and care he brought to spin for her this time. She could not fall for that again. With him or anyone else. And yet, her body still wanted to run to him and jump into his arms, bury her nose into the nape of his neck and breathe in him. His signature cologne, his natural musk that had grown to represent a sanctuary for her.

She forced herself behind the ice walls she had spent a week building. She was too weak to survive without them. Those barriers and their harshness were the only thing that had dragged her out of bed to go to her shift, which lasted a total of an hour before she was fired. She was not surprised but preparation had not made it an easier experience. She had been proud of herself for holding it together, walking out with her head held high. That is, until the utter debacle outside the library.

Michael had always been the one who the barriers came down for. But now, his presence made them grow higher and higher as if to protect David from Goliath.

She stepped back and opened the door just enough for her face to be seen. She did not look at him though, keeping her eyes trained on the wall behind him.

“What? The paparazzi videos aren’t enough? Need to see your destruction in person? There, you’ve seen me. Now get out.”

Her voice was cold, colder than he ever knew her to be toward anyone much less him. It was being stabbed in the chest and having the knife twisted for effect. Made all the worse by the fact that she could not even look him in the eye.

“Rae… baby girl, please. I just want to make sure you are alright after today… between the library and that guy. Just want to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

A mere week ago, Raven would have melted like a childish lovesick school girl at “baby girl,” at his care and devotion to her. But today, her heart had to remain cold for her own preservation, safely tucked behind the ice walls she erected.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that. And it’s not the first job I’ve lost, I’ll survive. Whether or not I’m hurt or employed shouldn’t matter to you. You made it clear you don’t care.”

“It does matter to me. You matter to me. Did he hurt you?”

“Bruises heal… This one will too. It’s the other wounds I’m not sure about,” she muttered, more to herself than him. “You want me to read you some of my DMs? Compared to what they all say they want to do to me, I got off easy with a bruise. So now you know. I don’t want to repeat myself again. Get. Out.”

“I’ll do anything, Rae. Just talk to me, hear me out. I didn’t mean for this o-or any of this to happen like this. Let me fix this. Or at least let me protect you.”

She shook her head, refusing to listen to a word he had to say. In one ear and out the other. It was all lies. “No. You can’t fix this. I don’t want your words, your lies, your apologies, or your protection. I don’t want anything from you ever again. You wanted me out of your life just like everyone else I know so you got your wish. Come back here again and I’ll call the police.”

And with that, she slammed her door in his face, leaving him standing awkwardly in the living room with Alex and her roommate. He simply stood there like a statue, mouth agape with his apologies on the tip of his tongue, staring at her closed door for a few moments.

“You heard her. You should go.”

With her roommate’s echo, Michael forced his legs to move. However, before he could get far, he stopped and grabbed a spare piece of paper and pen that was left discarded on their counter. He jotted down his number and pushed it into her hand.

“Tiffany, right?” At her nod, he continued. “I’ll give her space cause that’s what she wants. But anythin’ happens like today again, call me. Please.”

The young woman eyed him intently and stowed the paper away in her pocket before Michael walked out of the door with Alex in tow. As they stepped into the elevator of her building, Michael unleashed his pent-up frustration by punching a hole into the side of the elevator, an action that only caused a rippling pain to shoot up from his knuckles.

“Well that was decidedly stupid. You’re gonna have to get that looked at.” Alex shook her head. “She’s not ready yet, Mike. And for once, you’re not in control of how this goes. She needs time. Give it to her. But she’s ok today, that’s all that matters.”

Michael’s unbruised hand massaged his knuckles as they walked to his car. He sat in his seat silently for a few moments.

“You think she’s still in danger?”

“I think people on the internet often forget the people they’re attacking are real people. Most of this will stay online and be fine but we can’t predict the people who’ll do what that guy did today and take it to the real world. There’s just… no way of knowing.”

Michael sighed and nodded. “Get me a list of bodyguards. Vetted. She doesn’t want to see me, fine. But she’s gonna get protection whether she likes it or not.”

“You can’t force her to have a bodyguard.”

“You got me in Mexico City, Paris, London, New York, and Miami for the next month. You think I’m steppin’ on a damn plane with niggas tryin’ to attack her? Get me the fuckin’ list.”

“I know shit is fucked right now, Michael, but you can’t stop working just because your girlfriend is mad at you.”

“I don’t care about work right now, Alex!”

“Maybe you should! Maybe I shouldn’t be the only one holding your fucking career and reputation together while you spend all your energy making bad decision after fucking bad decision.”

Michael’s entire body whipped around to face the passenger seat, the anger he had pushed down beneath the surface already bubbling to the top. He was a powder keg and unfortunately, Alex was the spark.

“Oh so all of this is my fault?? Tasha fuckin-”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Stop blaming Tasha! She’s trash, she fuckin’ sucks and backed you into a corner but it’s not all on her, Mike! I’m not one of these fuckin’ yes men whose gonna shield you from accountability just to pad your fuckin’ giant actor ego. You fucked up, Michael. You. You could’ve ended it with Tasha as soon as you realized you were in love with Raven, but you didn’t. You strung her along because it was easier than admitting your feelings. You could’ve taken any of the millions of opportunities to admit what was going on to Raven like I told you and you didn’t. You wanted to play big man and stick it to Tasha instead of focusing on the person that actually mattered. And you didn’t want to admit that you were still talking to her. You didn’t leak this out of some purely noble intentions. This didn’t just happen to you. You caused this because as good of a guy as you are, you always do what is easiest for you instead of what is hard. So you and Tasha made this fucked up bed together. Own that shit and stop wallowing in it like a fucking bitch baby.”

His grip on the steering wheel was nearly painful as her harsh words sank in. And as difficult as they were to hear, as much as they clashed against the narrative he was clinging to, he knew they were not untrue. While it was far easier to lay the whole debacle at Tasha’s feet, he knew he was not blameless in what happened. But he had underestimated how torturous it would be to see the consequences of his own actions, how it would gnaw at him day in and day out. And the only way he was even surviving day to day was wrapping his brain tightly in the narrative that he did what was best. Without that protective blanket, he did not know if he could survive seeing the destruction he caused.

“Damn tell me how you really feel.” He banged his fist on the steering wheel a few times. “I just… I feel like I can’t do shit else till I fix this. Till she forgives me.”

Alex took a long deep breath before reaching over and squeezing his hand. “I know… but her forgiving you and you fixing the damage this all caused may not be the same thing. You don’t get to control when she forgives you and your life can’t stop until she does. If she does. Fix what you can, keep showing up where you can, and the rest is on her.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then she doesn’t. And that has to be ok too.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. “I’ll have the list of bodyguards for you by noon tomorrow. Just promise me you’ll get on that plane on Friday? And that your head will be focused on your career, not her. Give me six weeks Mike. Press tour, world premiere, Oscars and then you can chase after her like a lost puppy all you want.”

“Yea I promise. I know how hard you’ve worked for all this… ain’t gonna let you down, Alex.”

“I get paid either way. You earned this. Care more about not letting yourself down.”

And with that, Michael peeled off the curb of Raven’s apartment building and started their trek back to his home. The entire ride Alex’s words tumbled in his brain. He had been so focused on convincing Raven to forgive him when he did need to give her space, as excruciating as that was for him. But space did not mean he could not work to fix the very tangible things his decisions had ruined for her.

“Did you ever get that list of Black agents and publishers that rep fantasy novels?” he asked randomly as they pulled back into his spot in the garage.

“Yea, pulled it a while ago.”

Michael walked Alex to her car, which sat out in front of his house.

“Good. Any on the list you particularly like?”

“One of them’s a friend and if I’m being honest… She is the list.”

“Aight. Let’s game plan that on the plane ride after our interview prep”

Alex leaned against the hood of her car, smiling at him. She patted him on the arm and gave him a smile. “There’s the Michael B Jordan I attached my career to. Welcome back.”

He merely rolled his eyes and smiled. He was a man of action. He would wait a hundred years if that was how much time and space Raven needed. But her not wanting to see him did not mean he could not continue to be what he had always been for her: the first person who took care of her.

***

A knock at Raven’s door forced her out of bed. She had not made much effort to leave the comfort of her own bed since losing her job. She had been able to save up enough from her dates with Michael to save a decent safety net. She would have a couple months before she needed to think seriously about what was next and how to pay rent. She savored the cushion. Her thoughts were an utter mess so she certainly was not mentally strong enough to plan.

As she walked to her front door, her phone started vibrating.

Kiara

She had been avoiding her calls like she was the bubonic plague. She knew why she was calling. To gloat and rub salt in Raven’s wounds. She could almost hear the vitriol Kiara would throw at her without even answering the phone. So she didn’t. She did not care to. She decided to just wait her out, if she ignored her calls enough, she would eventually give up… right? After all, it had almost been two weeks.

Raven had not heard from her dad at all, which she did not know whether to be thankful for or add that to the list of wounds that would not close. Some small part of her would have hoped that, despite them not speaking since the holidays, that he would check in on her after all of this. But she had done all of them a favor when she cut them off. They wanted her out of their lives and she wanted them out of hers. She knew she should no longer care what either of them thought of her.

She sent her call straight to voicemail as she opened her door to find an extremely tall, brooding bald man with shades standing outside her door. He kind of reminded her of what a secret service agent in movies looked like.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Raven Turner?”

“Why do you want to know?” She kept the door knob in her hand in case she needed to push it closed. She thankfully had not had any crazies approaching her at home, small comfort. But perhaps, that was about to end.

“My name is David Brooks. I’ve been hired to be your bodyguard. May I come in?” Raven’s eyes grew wide as he tried to make a step over the threshold to her apartment. She immediately stepped into his path, using her body and the door as shields.

“You think I’m just gonna let you in cause you say you’re a bodyguard?? I didn’t hire a bodyguard. And I don’t need one. So you could be a serial killer with an elaborate ruse for all I know. Leave.”

“You should know that no serial killer would choose a ruse so specific. And apartments are a foolish place to murder someone, too many eye witnesses. And if I was here to harm you, I’d already be inside. Your door certainly would not stop me.”

“You know you are not really inspiring trust, right?”

“Apologies. It is just frustrating how obsessed the average American woman is about being murdered by a serial killer when statistically, it will never happen. But I digress. Just because you do not believe you do not need a bodyguard, does not mean you don’t.” He reached under his arm and handed her a neat folder of papers. “Resume, background check… much of which is redacted. Security reasons. And he said you would be a reluctant principal so I included the latest research and data on how cyber attacks and stalking can turn violent. Now have I inspired trust?”

Raven took the folder out of his hand and flipped through it quickly, her small stature still blocking his entrance to her home. Her eyes skimmed each page, which included everything about this man except his damn social security number. He seemed legit and even the parts that were not redacted in black highlighter seemed terrifying. But she did not budge from her protective stance in front of her home. She still did not understand.

“Who even hired you??” There was no one in her life that cared enough or could afford to hire her a bodyguard. Well no one except…

Fuck.

“Michael B. Jordan. Any other questions or may I come in so we can discuss your security? Do you do this often? Talk to people in your doorway? Because that will need to end immediately.” His eyes glanced up and down the hallway of her apartment.

Raven let out a deep exhale of frustration and stepped aside, allowing him in. Mainly because she did not want their standoff to continue in her hallway for one of her nosy neighbors to see.

“Don’t get comfortable… you won’t be staying.”

How dare he? She thought to herself. Why can’t he just leave me the fuck alone!

She angrily grabbed her phone off of the kitchen island where she had discarded it. She was too pissed off to feel many other emotions about hearing his voice as she unblocked Michael’s number and hit the call button. She had not spoken to him since he showed up at her apartment days prior.

Ice walls, ice walls, she told herself as she prepared to hear his voice. She forced herself not to read into the fact that it only rang once before his voice started to fill her ear.

“Rae! Lis-”

“Fire him,” she demanded, cutting him off. She had no desire to hear anything he had to say to her.

There was a still beat of silence before Michael’s voice filled her ears again, steaming with the dominance she once craved and yearned for.

“No.”

“I’m not kidding, Michael.”

“I ain’t laughing, Raven. You aren’t ready to talk to me, you aren’t ready to see me, fine. But I’m not gon’ let you fend off paparazzi and randoms alone. And I can’t be there. So he stays.”

Anger coiled in her belly causing her to immediately raise her voice. Every fiber in her being hated him.

“So he can report my every move back to you?? Fuck no. And fuck you. The only reason I would need protection is because of what you did. I’ll never be ready to talk to you and I want nothing from you.”

She could tell this was a losing battle but she fought regardless. She could not handle this shadow following her every second, a visual reminder of him and the fact that he cared about her. But everything in her told her that he didn’t care about her. His actions had made that abundantly clear. This was nothing more than a complex manipulation… like everything else he had done to her since the night they met.

“He’s not obligated to report anythin’ back to me, I promise. I’ve dealt with the paparazzi and crazy fans longer than you. It actually can be dangerous. And I’m traveling and doing all this press so it’s not gonna die off until I’m out of the spotlight in a few weeks. So until then, he stays.”

Raven forgot that Michael was officially on his giant world press tour for Creed 3. A part of her wanted to ask him about it, hear how it was going and how he felt. But she could not allow that either. She did not care about his career. She did not care about him anymore.

“I don’t need anymore help and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t want it from you.”

He let out a sigh that sounded almost… sad? Raven shook her head. She was not going to give in, waver, or break. He was one of the best actors of her generation and that was all this was: an act.

“I deserve that shit. I know it. But I’m not gonna apologize for carin’ about you even if you hate me.”

The back of her eyes stung at his words. She despised it, she did not want to feel this for him. He had destroyed her and she vowed never to let him close enough to do it again. Or anyone for that matter. But perhaps her resolve was not as steadfast as she desperately wanted to believe it was. Her heart may have been willing to hear him out again, but her stubborn brain refused to allow her to give in.

“I do… hate you,” she whispered, hating how clear her emotions were in her tone. Hearing his voice cracked something open inside her and all those walls were starting to crash around her.

“I know… but I’ll never stop, Rae. Never stop lovin’ you and carin’ about what happens to you. Hate me all you want but that’s it.”

She shook her head, even though she knew he could not see it.

Lies. It’s all lies. He doesn’t care. No one does. So stop kidding yourself.

The back of her hand quickly wiped away the few falling tears before she sniffled slightly and cleared her throat. She refused to give in. He did not love her, he did not care about her. That’s the only thing she knew was real. The rest was lies.

“You don’t care what happens to me,” she responded definatively. “No one does,” she repeated the menacing voice in her head that forced her insecurities and hard truths to the surface of her brain. “Hell… I don’t anymore.” Her voice trailed off slightly.

“Rae…” Whatever rebuttal he had started to form in his brain at her first statement faded away like a sandcastle swept in a tidal wave at her words. Did she really think that? Believe that no one in the world cared about her? Did she really no longer care about herself? Those words struck fear in his soul.

“Tell me how I can fix it, baby. Please. Tell me what I can do for you to forgive me.”

Her entire body sagged against the weight of her kitchen counter. She let the phone fall from her ear as a sob bubbled to the surface. She forgot about the GI Joe soldier who was standing in her living room awkwardly pretending as if he could not hear them.

“I-I don’t know if y-you can fix this, Michael. N-Not what you did b-but this exhaustion. I’m just… tired,” she wiped her eyes. “I’m tired o-of reaching out and getting swatted away… I’m tired of being disappointed b-by people. I’m t-tired of forgiving a-and piecing myself back together just to be pushed down and b-broken again. I-I h-have to f-find the fucking energy to pick up the p-pieces of my l-life y-yet again because I d-don’t… have any choice. B-But I d-don’t have enough… to do that a-and figure this out right now. I c-can’t think about forgiving you until I stop feeling…. this … exhausted.” Her words were barely audible as her emotions made her throat too tight to speak.

Another sob broke its way through before she forced her to clear her throat before she stood up straight. She could not do this, could not talk to him and let the door even crack. The wound still hurt too much.

“Goodbye, Michael.”

Raven hung up and blocked his contact once again. She glanced at her new shadow, who now turned his attention back to her.

“I can’t do this right now. I’m not leaving the house today so come back tomorrow and we can talk.” She did not wait for him to agree. “Get out.”

He seemed wholly unperturbed by her rudeness, she was clearly not his first “reluctant principal.” He merely nodded and walked to her front door, leaving the folder and his card with his cell phone number with her.

Raven marched into her bedroom and slammed her door shut, the chorus of sobs she was holding in finally breaking from the surface. Two weeks, only two weeks had passed and she just did not want to feel this anymore. This destruction. The wreckage of her life simply felt too great to rebuild. And there did not seem to be any light at the end of this particular tunnel.

***

The days marched by at a slow pace as Raven tried to do what she told Michael: pick up the pieces to her life. Her day to day now included her own personal GI Joe who followed her everywhere she went. And drove her everywhere she went. Which, admittedly, was not that many places. She did not have a job and she had few friends in LA so she spent most of her time in her apartment, occasionally venturing out for necessities. She imagined she was the easiest and most boring person David had ever protected.

Though they had gotten off to a rocky start, Raven had to admit that she felt safer when she did leave her home with him by her side. And he was not overbearing or bothersome. He had a few rules, which were easy enough for her to follow. And he promised that he would not report her every move back to Michael. She was not sure if she believed him fully but he seemed sincere enough.

She still thought about him, a ghost haunting her every passing thought. Thoughts that were only amplified as pictures and clips from his press tour went viral all over social media. She had tried her hardest to avoid them but sometimes she found her eyes lingering on a reel or tik tok featuring him. She never quite listened to what he was actually saying, she merely just studied him. The way he laughed with his entire body, the spark in his eyes as he talked about his craft and his passion.

He seemed happy… without her, a realization that always made her close whatever video it was and want to curl back up in her bed.

She did not want to miss him, she did not want to still be in love with him. But she still felt everything, all of that love and every ounce of the hurt.

An unknown number covered Michael’s face in the video she was silently watching. Unknown numbers were a mixed bag these days but something in her told her to answer it. It was an LA number, if that made her feel any better about it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, may I speak with Raven Turner?”

“This is she.”

“Hi Ms. Turner. My name is Angelina Smith, I’m the founder of The Spark Agency. We rep Black authors across fiction from contemporary to fantasy and sci/fi. I’ve been looking for new talent and a friend of mine passed along your name to me. You have a few minutes to chat?”

Raven’s eyes grew wide. She did not need to race to google to know who Angelina Smith and the Spark Agency were. They were the first, and one of the only, major Black-owned literary agencies and one of the only that almost exclusively repped Black and Brown authors. She had queried damn near every agent there when she first finished her manuscript but none of it worked out.

“Wait… you’re THE Angelina Smith?? If this is an elaborate prank…” Raven muttered, her brain already forcing her to temper her hopes and dreams. It would not surprise her if this was some insane tik tok prank or ruse to humiliate her. A month ago, she would have never considered that but now? She did not put much past people anymore.

She laughed. “No, I promise this is not a prank. I read your book… you’re incredibly talented. I work closely with Del Rey, Penguin House’s fantasy imprint, and I think your book and series would be perfect for them.”

“Seriously??”

“Yes. Could you come down to my office one day this week? Maybe tomorrow? You’re based here in LA too, right? We can also do something virtual if you’re not in town though. I would love to just chat about your vision for the series and see if we could be a good fit? And if it is, start to discuss all the business stuff. My least favorite part, to be honest,” she chuckled. “Can you give me your email?”

Raven rattled off her email quickly, still shocked and confused as to what was even happening right now.

“Ok great, my assistant will send you a calendar invitation and information. I have to jump but I'm looking forward to meeting you. Talk tomorrow.”

And with that, the call ended, leaving Raven with extreme whiplash as she tried to process what even just happened. She let out a breathy chuckle as she wondered if her life was about to turn around for the better. She did wonder how she even found her book, published under a pseudonym so it would not have been that easy to find. And she had basically been told her career in publishing was dead without hope of resuscitation so why would one of the most successful Black agents in publishing even want to waste their time on her?

A war raged as she tried to decide if this was really real. But a ding of her email let her know that it was legit. She studied every aspect of the email from email addresses to signatures, using LinkedIn and other investigative searches to verify her assistant’s existence as a person and everything checked out. If this was a ruse, it was the most elaborate one she had ever seen. It seemed… legit?

The smallest sprout of hope bloomed in her belly at the thought. Perhaps her life was not completely and totally destroyed. Well it was, but for the first time in a month, she did not see only despair ahead. She saw a path to build something new out of it.

***

“Raven! Angelina,” the tall, lean, and insanely gorgeous woman glided to her office door to greet Raven like she was floating on the air instead of walking in her incredibly high Louboutins. She held out her hand, Raven shaking it enthusiastically. “It is so great to meet you.”

“It is great to meet you too. And sorry,” she wiped her sweaty palm against her dress. “Kinda nervous.”

Angelica waved her hand dismissively. “No need to be nervous. I’ll be honest, I truly rarely say this but I’m already sold on you… just gotta sell you on me,” she winked.

“You’re the first agent to show interest in my work in years… and not to sound like a complete fan, you’re every author’s dream. Hardly need to sell me on you or your agency.”

“I know a diamond when I see one,” she shrugged. “Please sit,” she gestured toward the comfy white couch in her corner office, each woman sitting on each side.

“Not sure about a diamond,” Raven muttered. Her shoulders sagged a bit as she chewed on her lip. This was her dream but all night she had grappled with one thing, one thing that would kill their working relationship before it even began. Her reputation.

“I am so appreciative of this… And honestly, just knowing that someone of your caliber sees the value of my work would be enough. I mean you are amazing a-and your agency has repped some of my favorite authors. And this is such an honor.”

“How do I already sense a but coming?”

Raven smiled sadly. “But I don’t want you to waste your time. I doubt any publisher’s gonna want my name attached to them.”

Angelina stood up and walked over to a small table, pouring two glasses of brown liquor from a decanter she had sitting there. She returned to her perch on the couch, handing Raven one of the glasses.

“Do you think I would personally reach out to you without asking around about you? Without doing a google search? You don’t get to be me without doing your due diligence and I do mine. I know everything ‘your name’ comes with and I still called you. I won’t presume to know everything but I heard enough to know that what your last publisher did to you was not on you or right. Publishers can preach about caring about marginalized voices all they want but it’s still hard to be a woman, a black woman, in our industry. So when a phenomenal black writer gets labeled difficult? I… know what that means. And as for your situation now… well, I like an author with an interesting story,” she shrugged, though interesting was not the word Raven would have used to describe her own story. “But since you think I need convincing about you, let me ask you this… why did you want to be a writer? And why fantasy?”

Raven’s hands anxiously twisted in her lap as she thought about it. “A lot of reasons but mainly… all books are windows… a peek behind the curtain into another life, another time, another reality. But for me, fantasy books were always more? They were doors, a real escape into another world where life was limitless and the powerless underdog could be more. That you could fall but there’s always a reason to pick yourself back up and try again until you don’t fall anymore. And when I wrote my first short story, I realized they were also mirrors, a chance to examine yourself and your own life…” Raven’s hand picked up the hardback copy of her book that sat between the two women. “And heal wounds. Or at least start the process. And when I was old enough, I just realized I didn’t want to just be escaping into someone else’s world. I wanted to escape into one of my own creation too.”

Angelina smiled and nodded. “And that’s what all the due diligence in the world can’t tell me but the only thing I really need to know. I don’t care about anything other than whether this is your passion. And whether you are good at it. Check those boxes and I can work magic with anything, trust me. And as for your concern about publishers, I will admit that I may have been a bit overzealous but I already put feelers out and have three publishers, including Del Rey, who want to meet with you. Your old publishing house even reached out but I didn’t respond. My first response was to tell them to fuck off but wanted to check with you first.”

“Fuck off is pretty polite for what I want to say to them,” Raven muttered under her breath.

“Then fuck off it is.” The two women shared a knowing smile before Angelina continued.

The rest of the meeting was a dream, Raven forgot how amazing this all felt. Even the mundane legal stuff sparked an excitement she had not felt in such a long time. And now she had three meetings on the books to shop her book and an agent again, a book she thought she was not going to be able to do anything with ever again.

“Ok, I think that’s all I need for today. One thing, they’re gonna want book 2 fairly quickly. Any deal we get will include a reprint of this one but they’re all gonna want a first draft as soon as you can get one. Maybe let’s check in again on your progress on March 15? Gives you about a month.”

Raven grimaced on the inside. She had half of her second book done years ago and the doc sat unfinished and untouched ever since she lost her deal. Even with this surge of hope and new energy, she did not know if her creative juices were even still there. However, she did not voice any of those concerns to Angelina. How could she tell this badass woman that she was putting her name on the line for her and Raven did not even know if she could write anymore?

“Sounds good. I can do that,” she lied.

Or at least, we can try… and pray.

“Ok great. Jason will be bombarding your email over the next week with invites and such but I think we’re in good shape. We’ll send over my contract. If you have a lawyer, have them look it over. It’s standard in my opinion but I encourage all my authors to read it with a fine tooth comb and send back notes. It was great meeting you, Raven. I look forward to working with you.”

They shook hands once more before Raven stood to walk out of her office. However, at her door, Raven paused and turned around.

“I’m sorry… Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“How did you… find my book? I wasn’t querying or anything. It’s not even sold in stores anymore.”

“Oh, a good friend of mine passed a copy along. Said you had gotten the rights back recently and thought I might be interested. One thing I’ve learned is to never doubt Alexandra Williams. She knows how to spot rare talent and she was right, per usual. It’s infuriating really,” the woman laughed.

Raven used her hand on the doorknob to steady herself as her words hit her. She supposed she should not have been shocked but she was. A million questions ran through her brain. Why had he done that? What did he hope to get out of it? Was this another manipulation or a sign that he truly loved and cared about her? That he really wanted to fix all of this?

“Sorry… I may have wrongly assumed she or Michael told you I was gonna reach out.”

Raven realized that her internal monologue was clearly showing across her face. She quickly shook her head and replaced her perplexed look with a fake smile. “No, no. Don’t apologize. They probably wanted it to be a surprise. Thank you… again.”

“Thank me when we get you a deal,” she winked at her before giving her a wave.

Raven nodded and saw herself out, realizing that now… she actually had to do something. No more wallowing in bed and watching sad movies. Her life was back in motion and if she did not pick up her feet to keep up, she would ruin this second chance too.

She shot David a quick text asking him to pull around to pick her up. She had a book to write.

***

Michael was pitfully scrolling through his camera roll as Tessa came up behind him and slid into the open seat next to Alex on their jet. Tessa had been a bright spot on this press tour, keeping him engaged and laughing as much as she could. He was grateful. However, when he was alone or in spaces like this with no cameras, the melancholy always settled back in and he found himself seeking out Raven. Now that was simply a text that went unanswered, a wall of blue messages on his end. However, they did go through… which was an improvement.

Since he could not see her, he resorted to scrolling back through his phone and studying every photo or video they took together. His favorites were their trip to Paris. He looked at those pictures and videos more and longer than he should have, made all the more painful by the fact that he was on his way there before heading to London. He had hoped she would be beside him on this particular stop of his press tour, and had hoped she would get to experience Paris again with him.

But this time, the most romantic city in the world would merely feel like a cruel joke. When he examined her in those photos, each one resurfacing memories that he clung to like a buoy in the open ocean, they only made him fall deeper in love with her. It was as if he could see their love story play out in front of his eyes. And he always went back to Paris because it was such a clear turning point for them, the moment everything changed and they started to fall. The descent had been beautiful and he had savored every moment of it. He could see the love she held for him etched in her eyes, the longing that he had doubted was real back then. But now, it was all he could see… all he could focus on.

“Stare at your phone any harder and it might burst into flames,” Tessa joked as she sat down across from him.

Michael chuckled and tossed his phone down in the empty seat next to him, slumping back pitifully.

“My bad. Just…”

“Miss her?”

“Yea. Doubt she misses me though.” He mused, thinking back to their last two conversations, neither of which went well.

When he had made his choice, there had not been a world where he thought he would not be able to mend whatever it damaged between them. Conceited and cocky? He could own that now but his ego often was outsized. But now, he questioned whether there was a path forward for them at all? If he had done too much damage? Every night when he laid down for a precious few hours of sleep, her words tumbled and tossed in his brain matter. He had never heard her sound so… depleted as she was during their last phone call. He was trying, as much as he could from afar, but he did not know if it would ever be enough.

“Wouldn’t be so sure of that. I only met her once but that woman is just as in love with you as you are with her. Those feelings just don’t disappear because she’s upset. Give her -”

“Time. I know,” he muttered angrily. “Just don’t know if there’s enough time to fix how I fucked this up, Tess. She said she’s too tired to forgive me. And the crazy thing is, I can’t even be mad at that. If I had her life, I would be fuckin’ tired too. I just wish she would let me talk to her, you know? Explain or something.”

Tessa reached over and squeezed his hand. “I know but you’re doing what you can. Show her that you care about her and maybe that’ll soften her up enough for a conversation later.”

“And,” Alex interjected. “If it at all gets you out of this relentlessly annoying funk, Angelina texted and said she and Raven had a great meeting yesterday. So one thing’s working out.”

“See?” Tessa, forever an optimist, smiled widely. “Progress. Keep showing up for her.” Tessa leaned back and studied him for a moment, her eyes filled with introspection that made Michael sit up a bit straighter.

“What’s that look for?”

“No, just… I’ve known you for a decade and I just have never seen you like this before.”

“What? Acting like a bitch?” he grumbled, tossing Alex a side eye that she only rolled her own eyes yet.

“No. This serious… this mature… vulnerable. It’s a new side of you that I’ve never seen and the whole world sees it too. It’s really nice and refreshing.”

“Yea, well it’s all her.”

“Does she know that?”

But before he could ask her what she meant, Tessa’s agent called her over to discuss something, leaving Michael alone to ponder his own thoughts.

***

Almost two weeks went by and the document on Raven’s computer remained unchanged. She stared at the screen for hours a day, willing the prose of her novel to leap out of her brain and onto the page but nothing. She reread the words she wrote years ago and none of it even sounded good to her anymore but she did not know how to fix it. Her backspace button saw more love than any other key on her keyboard. Hour after hour marched on and she had nothing to give. Her characters did not even seem to live in her head anymore. When she tried to tap into their thoughts, their lives, and intentions… all she heard was silence from them and the loud roaring of her own problems. They were still there but it was as if they were miles and miles away with too many barriers for her to access them. And if she could not access them, she could not write an authentic story that a publisher would ever want or readers deserved.

Had she gotten a second chance only to realize there was no point? How could she turn a draft around in a quickly dwindling time frame when she had not written a single thing?

And she could not even blame her writer’s block on anyone. It was all her, her brain and insecurities reeking havoc on her ability to do something that had once been as second nature as breathing. And all her thoughts, of course, just charted a path back to him. Always.

She knew Michael arranging that meeting had been an olive branch, his attempt at fixing things between them. And while part of her was grateful, another part was frustrated that the only reason she was getting her shot back at being an author was because of his connections. Hell, she would still be trapped with her own publisher if it was not for him. Did she want her future success and career to be built on his support? Something about it felt… wrong. Like accepting it was forgiveness she was not ready to offer him yet.

She slammed her computer shut in frustration, an unanswered email from Angelina getting an update on her draft. It would just have to stay on read, Raven decided as she sulked in bed. This was her least favorite part of the day… when she gave up trying to force words to appear on the page and curled back into her spot in bed. That’s when all the negative thoughts caught up with her the most and she had no distractions to help her, tormenting and taunting her with how much she did not deserve him. Or anything good in her life.

Even with this new book deal, she was bound to ruin it at some point right? That was all she knew how to do. The sun was starting to set, dimming the light in her room. Sitting there, without her job, students or Michael to distract her, made it that much harder the fact that all roads led back to one central problem: her. And that was not something Michael could fix. Hell, she did not even know how to fix that. Was she even fixable? Or would she just continue to destroy everything in her life forever?

She was about to get up and force herself to watch tv as a distraction when her phone rang.

Kiara

Raven perhaps foolishly thought her sister would simply give up. She could not even count how many times she sent her calls to voicemail but that did not deter her. Kiara demanded that she be given her moment to revel and gloat. Despite wanting nothing to do with or hear a thing from Kiara, Raven knew she was merely kicking an inevitable can down the road. She was a dog with a bone and she would never stop until Raven gave her the attention she demanded.

Perhaps Raven really was a masochist because despite how low she was already feeling, she decided today was the day to stop punting her sister and just get the beating over with.

“Oh so you finally decide to answer my fucking calls? Weeks later?”

“We made it pretty clear where we stood at Thanksgiving. I just knew you wouldn’t stop calling so… say what you wanna say so we can all move on?” Raven could not keep the exasperation out of her voice. She did not need a big speech or lead up. Let’s just get right to the point.

“Not talking all that big shit now, huh? You know… I always knew you weren’t shit but prostitution? Findin’ new ways to embarrass dad and I every day, huh?”

“Yep, so what do you want me to say, Kiara?”

“Just wondering if you’re finally ready to admit what I’ve always known?”

Raven’s eyes clenched shut. “And what’s that?”

“That you were the biggest mistake mama ever made. All you’ve ever done is ruin my life from the minute you were born. Daddy is fuckin’ disgusted with you. You thought you could snag a big nigga like Michael but he just realized what I already knew. You don’t deserve shit, let alone him. Who knows, maybe I’ll give him a call. He’s havin’ his big movie premiere tonight, finally dumped his dead weight. Maybe we can see how he does with a real woman, not a fuckin’ slut.”

Raven’s head thudded against her headboard lightly as a few stray tears fell. She wiped them away and cleared her throat, forcing the words out of her throat. She was broken but she refused to break down in front of Kiara of all people.

“Fine. You’re right,” her voice filled with such sorrow and resignation that Raven almost did not recognize herself. “Satisfied?”

There was a pause as if Kiara was surprised at her response. But that’s what she had wanted, right? To hear Raven humble herself, admit that she was every horrible thing Kiara, her dad, and now the whole world thought she was.

“That’s what you wanted, right?” she repeated out loud. “That you’re right and I’m the villain and all your hate and vitriol toward me for my entire life is justified? Well, you’re right. You can’t hate me more than I hate myself and I deserve all of it. You are right. So congrats. You won. Oh and if you want Michael, you can have him. I’ll send you his number.” Raven did not even bother waiting for Kiara to speak before she hung up and threw her phone down.

Her head fell into her knees as sobs raked through her body, she did not even know her body could produce anymore tears. How had she not dried herself out? That last statement was an utter and complete falsehood. She did not want Michael anymore, or rather, she simply convinced herself she should not want him anymore. Her body still yearned for him like an addict searching for their next fix. But it would be a cold day in hell before she served him on a gilded platter to her sister of all people. And even though she hated him more than anyone in this world, she knew that was not his way.

But everything else? She meant every word. She hated herself and her life. And it was overwhelmingly excruciating to feel 30 years of hatred flood her brain all at once.

“Fuck! Enough of this,” she muttered. She could not sit there, lay around ruminating in her pain and suffering all night. Especially not when Kiara had just reminded her that Michael was having one of the biggest night’s of his career, a night she had once been so excited to experience by his side.

She needed to forget. Forget him, forget her pain… forget all of it.

She went into her closet and pulled out a bodysuit and jeans. She threw on makeup as quickly as she could, freshened up her hair and texted David that she wanted to go out. He was still sitting in his car outside watching her building, as he would until she went to sleep. But tonight, she did not plan on going to sleep anytime soon, she needed release.

And release is exactly what she would find as she made David drive around until she spotted a hole-in-the-wall bar downtown. It was old and grimy and the perfect escape. There were no lying millionaires to be found in a place like this, just regular men who would think nothing of fucking Raven in the bathroom or the back of their car or wherever her drunk mind encouraged them to go.

“Hey, welcome to the Griffin,” the bartender offered as Raven sat down at the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Hey… ummm can I just have tequila with pineapple juice? Double. And just keep ‘em coming.” She handed him her credit card to start what she knew would be a regrettably large tab in the morning. But she could not have hoped to care.

He merely nodded in agreement before quickly mixing her simple but effective poison of choice. She damn near drank it like a shot, throwing it back before signaling him to make her another. And with every disgusting bottom shelf sip of tequila she took, she felt it. Release.

***

“Congrats, baby. The movie was amazing,” Michael’s mother kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks, ma.”

There was a certain sorrow in his voice that he found hard to hide now that he had returned home from his Creed 3 World Premiere. Two weeks of traveling non-stop and he was finally home. Only home simply reminded him of one person now. Raven. It was the biggest night of his career and he spent the entire night wishing she was by his side, musing on what she would think of specific scenes or the movie overall. Her opinion was the only one he found himself even caring about. The insane pace of his press tour had taken his mind off Raven to a degree. But being back in LA for a few weeks head of the world premiere and the Oscars pushed all those thoughts front and center again.

And it was clear to every person around him, which is why his cast and team did not press him when he declined attending the after party he was hosting and paid for.

“I know it’s hard without her, baby. But celebrate the moment, your moment. If she’s meant to be yours, she’ll come back around.”

His mother squeezed his hand before following his father up the stairs to their bedroom. Michael sighed and nodded. That’s what he kept telling himself this entire time but it was not working anymore. He just wanted to hear her voice, even if all she wanted to do was yell at him. He could take it, handle it. It was the silence that was harrowing, that felt too heart-wrenching to contend with.

This press tour had proven one thing to him - Raven had unlocked a side of him that he had never had before. This was his most open and genuine, most real moments he had offered the public. And people noticed, noticed that he was different, more serious, vulnerable, and open about himself, his work, and his craft. Raven had brought all that out in him. And he wanted her by his side to revel in it with him. He wanted people to know that it was her who caused that, who split him open and made him stop hiding.

His phone rang, Michael’s heart nearly stopping as David’s name slid across his screen. The man had never actively reached out to Michael since his first day guarding Raven. Though Michael paid for his services, he made it clear that he did not want reports unless they were threats to Raven’s safety, physical or otherwise. And so, he had taken David’s silence for what it was: a sign that Raven was safe. And that was all he could ask for. But the man reaching out to him foretold bad news, he knew that much.

“She alright??” Michael asked immediately, his feet already moving toward his keys to get in his car.

“Depends on your definition. We’re at a bar downtown and she’s… well, she’s been here for hours. It’s a dive bar so there aren’t many people here, no cameras. But she’s completely wasted. Like refusing to leave wasted. I told the bartender to cut her off after this drink bu-”

Michael loosened his bow tie and grabbed his keys. “Text me the address.”

“Already sent.”

Michael was not sure what to expect when he finally made it downtown and parked his car. He checked David’s text two or three times, shocked to believe a bar could exist in such a rundown building that did not look safe, much less occupying a functioning business. But David had sent the correct address, the faded, grungy and dilapidated sign of The Griffin hanging above the door.

Michael knew he looked out of place as he pushed his way inside, his body still donned in a perfectly tailored royal blue tuxedo. But thankfully, the bar was not crowded, just a few folks hanging around the bar and booths. But he only had eyes for one person like a moth to a flame, a young woman wildly dancing in the corner near the jukebox.

Despite the carefree smile on her face and swing in her hips, Michael could still see the dimmed spark in her eyes from across the dimly lit bar. He had not laid eyes on her in so long and just seeing her was like someone breathed new life into his body. The rough seas of his soul calmed, even just for a moment, before worry consumed him.

Was this normal for her since they broke up and stopped speaking? Getting completely drunk at dive bars? He could count on one had the number of times he had seen her tipsy, let alone drunk. But this was beyond anything he had ever witnessed with her but a scene he knew all too well with himself: someone trying to numb their pain with liquor and a good time. And it always worked, he knew, until the sun came up and the hangover set in and the pain rushed back tenfold. He chased that serene, weightless, painless feeling night after night for years. He had to learn the hard way that numbing the pain did not stop or heal it, it just made it hurt more later on when you finally confronted it. He refused to let someone as pure as Raven fall into the same trap he did.

He made his way across the bar, only stopping to speak to the bartender. “How many drinks she had?”

The bartender, a graying white man, glanced up from where he was wiping down the soiled bar. His eyes grew wide for a moment, clearly recognizing Michael, before he answered.

“Uhhh… I’m sure she lost track. The one in her hand is number 7. And her last. The guy with her told me to cut her off.”

Michael let out a low whistle and grimaced. There was not a world in which she didn’t feel that in the morning. He pulled out his credit card and slid it across the bar to the man. “Pay her tab with this for me, aight?”

“Yes sir. You’re my favorite villain in Marvel by the way…” he offered with an enthusiastic smile.

“‘Preciate you.” Michael walked over to where Raven was dancing and where David stood protectively by, the young woman still not even noticing him. More of the drink in her hand landed on the dirty floor of the bar than it did in her mouth when she tried to take another sip.

Michael rushed forward and skillfully slid it out of her grasp, Raven whipping around to find him behind her. Her smile immediately fell as she looked him up and down.

The drunk version of her wanted to be excited to see him but the sliver of her logical brain that remained reminded her that the only reason they were drinking was to forget him and the destruction he caused. How could she be so weak as to even care that he was there?

“W-what are you doing… here?” she slurred, her hand making a grab for her drink, which he held just out of her grasp.

“To take you home that’s what. You’ve had enough. Unless you wanna end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning?”

She merely shrugged as she continued to dance. “Can’t be any worse. I’m having… a good time. Unlike him,” She turned to David and smiled. “He’s sooooooooo uptight. You know… h-he doesn’t even smile. Like ever? And has a lot of thoughts… on serial killers, w-which is strange. Come on, David.” She called over to him from his stance in the corner, which gave him a full view of the bar. “Dance with me,” she tried to walk over to him in her high heels but stumbled, Michael quickly grabbing her around her waist and pulling her against his chest. “I-I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t. Come on.”

“You… two are… no fun,” she moaned pitifully. However, she did not fight against Michael’s strong grasp as he led her out of the bar and to his ferrari.

It took him longer than it should have to just get her in the car. However, once she was settled, he went into the back and grabbed the spare gym bag he kept there and dumped all the clothes out before putting it in her lap like a makeshift bucket. Though he knew he could just take her to his condo, he wanted to care for her at his home, which was a longer drive. And as much as he adored her, getting the interior of his brand new and very expensive custom car cleaned when all that alcohol inevitably showed up in a different, less desirable form was not on his to-do list for tomorrow.

Raven’s wild and uninhibited drunk persona continued for most of the ride as she demanded he turn on some “tunes” for her to listen to, singing loudly and off-key to every song she pulled up on his Spotify. It would have been cute if the entire situation had not been so concerning.

By the time they reached his house 30 minutes later, the height of her drunkenness had worn off and her persona had settled into a decidedly somber one.

“You hold your liquor better than I thought you would,” Michael remarked as he helped her up the stairs to his master suite.

“Only… long enough not to throw up in your fancy car. Can’t m-make the same promise… for your carpet if you keep moving this slow.”

That did make Michael pick up his pace a bit, immediately taking Raven to his bathroom and gently sitting her down. He made quick work of taking off her shoes and pulling her hair back with the hair tie on her wrist just in time for her to bury her face in the toilet.

Michael rarely got sick from alcohol but he had never been more thankful for his high tolerance of liquor as he essentially watched her body perform an exorcism. He only left her once to get her water and make a cup of tea to settle her stomach but even in his giant house, he could hear the faint heaving as he made his way to the kitchen.

When he returned with her water and tea, Raven was sitting with her head propped up on his toilet seat, gingerly wiping a few tears from her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry…” she pushed out. “Having my ex have to take care of me is a… fucking new… low.”

Michael felt like she had sucker punched him with the word ex. He supposed that was what they were, no matter how much he did not want that to be true. But it did not hurt any less.

“Don’t apologize.” He wet a washcloth with warm water before wiping her face. “Better?”

“Yea… c-can’t imagine there’s anything left in my body,” she mumbled. She stared at him for a moment before saying. “You shouldn’t’ve come. I told him not to tell you where I went.”

“Tonight was the first time he called me. I only just got back to LA this week for press and the premiere. He was just worried about you. Don’t think he expected me to actually show up.”

She eyed him up and down, for the first time realizing he was in a pristine deep royal blue tuxedo. She could not stop the passing thought on how good he looked.

“How was it?” At his confused expression, she amended. “The movie… how was it?”

He scoffed, even in this state, she cared about how his movie went. She always spoke about how she did not deserve him but from where he sat, it was the other way around.

“Don’t really care to talk about the movie right now, Rae. Want to talk about you.”

“Well I don’t wanna talk about me o-or think about me. Hence all the alcohol my body just ejected. So how was the movie?”

He slid down onto the floor next to her, setting the pajama set he had pulled out for her next to him.

“It was good. I’d already seen it but seein’ it on a big screen, watchin’ my family see it. It was surreal.”

“A-and the press tour?”

“Good. Busy. Not done either. Alex secured an interview with Oprah, which is hella dope… bout the movie and Oscars. So it’s been good. Hard without the one person I needed though.”

She scoffed, finally feeling strong enough to stop using his toilet as a literal crutch. She forced herself to scoot away, now leaning her back into his standing tub across from him.

“Didn’t need me. No one does,” she muttered, taking a sip of the tea he sat out for her.

Ginger tea, perfectly made just as she liked it. God, why was he like this?? So perfect and attentive even when she wanted to hate him?

“That’s not true. Tell me what’s goin’ on, Rae? I… I’ve never seen you like this. Never seen you drink this much or talk like this.”

“Maybe you don’t know me that well…” she muttered as she played with the material of his rug beneath her.

“I think I know you pretty well and this ain’t you.”

“I… finally talked to my sister today. A-and she just voiced what I already knew but had never said out loud. All I do is ruin things… people. Hell, I’m about to ruin this book deal you got it… I can’t even write anymore. Destruction follows me like a damn fire everywhere I go, burning everything I touch. I just… didn’t want to be me for a while? Didn’t want to be weighed down by that.”

“You didn’t ruin me.”

“If you had never met me, your face wouldn’t have been plastered across TMZ for carrying an unconscious woman out of a hotel…. If you’d never met me, you’d be blissfully enjoying your moment right now instead of taking care of a pathetic girl you dumped.” She paused, her fingers twirling around the fraying threads of the hole in her distressed jeans. “If I hadn’t been born, my family would be whole a-and happy. If I had just said yes to that asshole, I’d still have my career and I wouldn’t have resorted to prostitution. I-If I hadn’t decided to make a quick buck, I wouldn’t have disappointed my students a-and everyone I know. A-and it was easy to blame you when e-everything happened,” she whispered as tears streamed down her face, as the drunk facade gave way to the brokenness and pain she tried to numb. “It was easy to act as if this w-was all your fault. But it’s me. I’m the problem.”

“Rae…”

She raised her hand to stop him. “Don’t pretend it’s not true… this is all my fault.” He watched as she held the soft cotton in her hands, her fingers rolling over it. A tear fell from her eyes, splashing onto the heather gray material. She lifted her eyes, her first time looking him in his eyes. “W-was any of it real? W-what we had?”

“All of it was real. Every bit of it. I love you with everything in me, Rae. I hate that you don’t believe that, that I made you doubt it. But it’s true. You can’t ruin me when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“A-and Tasha? D-do you love her?”

Michael’s eyes grew wide. “Fuck no. I swear. I… messed up. Completely fucked up. I… thought I was helping you by dealing with it on my own and I let my anger at Tasha and fear of hurting you push me to do just that. I hurt you. And I’ll do anything to mend what I broke.Because you’re my world, Raven. You have to believe that. What can I do to make you believe that?”

Michael watched as her shoulders shrugged forward, collapsing under the weight of the day and everything. She pulled her knees into her chest, resting her head on her knees. “I d-don’t know if I can believe anything anymore.

“Then I’ll spend the rest of your life and mine helping you believe it. Whatever it takes.”

Raven stood up, ignoring the dizziness the sudden movement caused as she made a beeline for his bedroom door. She thought she could do this but she couldn’t. She couldn’t be here with him, listening to his promises. Not when the voices in her head loudly clashed against his words like metal against metal. Most of her brain that still loved him with everything in her screamed at her for pulling him away from one of the biggest nights of his career, chastising her for ruining yet another thing for him. And the louder part that demanded she despise him yelled that all of his promises were a lie, nothing he said was real. They weren’t real.

She did not deserve him and he was just propping her back up so he could knock her down again, he would never keep those lofty promises. That’s what everyone in her life did and she was too bruised to be anyone’s punching bag anymore. He was just a fantasy she tried to will to life but was never real.

She grabbed her clutch and phone that Michael had discarded on her bed. She did not care how her body swayed slightly and was still off kilter. She could stay awake long enough to call an uber and get herself home.

“What are you doing??”

“Going home. I c-can’t do this. You shouldn’t have come tonight. You s-should be out celebrating your big night, not here taking care of me.”

“The fuck? Raven, put the phone down. I ain’t lettin’ you Uber home like this.”

“You don’t care!”

“Stop sayin’ that shit!” he rushed forward and ripped her phone out of her hands, closing the Uber app. He knew it was wrong but he also knew her movements and reactions were too slow for her to stop him.

She tried to snag it from him, the actor easily holding it above their heads and utterly out of her reach.

“Stop wasting your time on me, Michael,” she hurled at him, her eyes clenching shut in her exasperation. “G-Go be with Tasha o-or some model or some woman actually worth your time. A woman you actually want. We both know that’s not me. So let me go, please. T-this… the promises, t-the disappointment, it hurts too much.”

“Be mad at me. Push me away all you want. Fine, I deserve it. But do it because I fucked up. Because I lied and kept the truth from you and tried to protect you and disappointed you just like everyone else. I can learn to live with that one day. But I can’t and won’t live with you doing it because you still believe you don’t deserve me! Because that’s not true.”

“Why w-would I believe you deserve me??! What future could we… ever have together when the world knows you a-and however many men they believe paid me for sex?? What kinda future is that for us?? People a-are calling you the greatest actor of a fuckin’ generation. You’re about to interview with fuckin’ Oprah literally this week! And what am I? A prostitute with no family and 3 failed careers under her belt?? A failed author who can’t even write a sentence now, much less another book. What kinda future would we have when you didn’t even think I w-was strong enough to tell me your secrets, your problems?? This whole situation, YOUR actions, proves that WE WEREN’T REAL!” she exploded, her drunkenness fueling the first time she voiced her true feelings out loud to anyone. “None of it was real. And the moment it got real, the moment shit got hard, you didn’t confide in me, you didn’t trust me, you threw me to the wolves because you knew what the rest of the world knows… I don’t deserve to be here i-in this part of your life! Th-This house… y-your family… your real life?? I don’t fit here anymore, Michael! I n-never did.” She took a deep shuddering breath before continuing.

“So I’m asking you… begging you to just… let me go. L-Let me go back to my…” she chuckled. “Insignificant life as Pluto o-or the side character. Please. B-Because I can pick myself b-back up a-and force myself to keep moving, force myself to keep going a-and b-be alone for the rest of my life a-and live in the shadows. But I can’t do that with fake promises, promises of m-more when it isn’t real… because w-words a-and promises a-aren’t real a-and they aren’t enough a-anymore. I can’t k-keep putting my faith in fantasies only for reality to knock me down again. Because I d-don’t think I can get back up again. I-I’m tired, Michael. This is it, this is all I have left. So please… just let me go.”

Michael slightly stumbled back in shock, the raw hurt in her voice almost too agonizing to feel. His arm came down but his grip on her phone was almost crushing. Though he wanted to respect her wishes, he also knew… there was not a world in which he could let her go truly. He loved her too much. His world rose and set with her. He used his knuckles to wipe his own tears away.

“Raven… please. J-just give me a chance to show you that I’m real, that what I feel for you is real. Because I would give up all this shit, every last bit of it for you. I’m at the height of my career and all I can think about is you. All that matters is you.”

She shook her head and held out her hand for her phone. “I wish… I wish I c-could believe you. But I don’t know if I can.”

With that, Michael’s grip loosened just enough for Raven to grab her phone and purse and start to walk out the door. However, as she pulled open the door, Michael’s hand grabbed the frame to stop her.

“I can keep working to fix what I did. I can show you that you’re my world, that you’re my Sun and that my world revolves around the very look on your face. I will happily show up at your doorstep everyday with actions and proof of how much I love you… how much I fucking breath for you. And I will. But I can’t make you believe it. I can’t make you believe you deserve it. That’s the one thing I can’t do here. I-I’ll never let you go, Rae. My heart will always be yours.” He bowed his head, every word felt like a sharp knife leaving his throat, agony to force out. But he knew it had to be said. “But I c-can’t force you to believe that you own my heart and deserve it or that you’re worth everything to me. I can do everything in my power to show you I’m worth one more fall but you have to jump. So if and when you believe what I know is true about you and us, I’m ready to jump again.”

And with that, he let her go, allowing her to open the door fully and leave. Every step she took further away from him caused the sorrow he felt to grow to unspeakable heights. At one time, he thought this pain could not have gotten worse. But this was far worse.

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r @dezzy154

***

A/N:

I promise yall… it’s gonna get better LOL This is really the worst it gets! Our girl is just feeling the weight of it all and is sad but she is a survivor 💪🏾

Y’all were hard on my girl last chapter - how are we feeling?? Still mad at her? Still mad at Michael? Let me know your thoughts in the comments! *disappears* lol also it was really hard to post this from my phone 😭 won’t do that again hahaha

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #black panther #michael b jordan x reader #michael b jordan fanfic #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii #fic: wicked fantasies

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ooeygooeyghoul · 7 months

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How to make a child model in Anam/Ktisis!

Disclaimer: I am NOT an expert in the use of these mods! I'm still very new and learning the ins and outs of them! This method worked for me, and maybe there are better ways to do it, but I'm just explaining how I created my baby Shiun. If you know of a better way, or have any tips and tricks, please feel free to comment or reblog with your advice for the sake of other gpose newbies! :D Link to Ktisis's download page | Link to Anam's download page Guide and Tips/Warnings below the cut! Hope this helps <3

Summon your partner in crime. So first off, I equipped my summoner job stone and summoned my trusty companion, Carbie.

2. Add your Carbie to your actors. Open up Anam and add your carbie to your list of actors, by clicking the plus sign at the top of the menu next to your character's name (remember that with Anam, you can only edit appearances OUTSIDE of gpose). Click on the little button labeled "Carbuncle" to add them.

3. Turn your Carbie into a person. With your Cabie selected, go to the "Import NPC" at the bottom right and pull up the list. Find an NPC that is the same race as your desired character and select it. In this example, I just chose the first au ra NPC I saw in the list. (You can also directly choose your desired race in the customize menu and start from scratch, but I just do it the Import way, lol) ⚠️As far as I've experienced, it's a 50/50 chance on whether or not you can alter the age of your character's actor directly. Every time I've tried this, it breaks the model and never works the way it should. For simplicity's sake, I've always just used my friend Carbie.

4. Change the age of your new actor. Now if you look at the top left of the Anam window, there's a series of dropdowns next to "Race."

What you want is the bottom right menu. Click it and you'll see "Old," "Normal," and "Young." Clicking "Young" will turn your carbie into the child version of the race it's currently disguised as!

5. Customize and boot up gpose! Now you can customize them to be the adorable mini version of your beloved WoL/OC!! The bones are compatible with Ktisis and should be as easy to manipulate and pose as adult models. If you use the Carbie method as I have in this explanation, you can simply hide your main model in the default Gpose menu for pictures.

Some things to keep in mind! ----

⚠️Not every race has a child model. The only races that have child models are:

au ra - male & female

hyur - male & female

elezen - male & female

miqo'te - female only

⚠️It is very likely that the models will break or look a little funky when you first spawn them. They have a very limited number of faces, and a limited number of available hairstyles. If you choose an option the game does not have, it will create some... interesting results. Most other customizations beyond skin color, hair color, and eye color will also likely not work (tail type/length, jaw type, etc.).

Left: invalid face selected --- Right: invalid hairstyle selected

Usually, faces 1 & 2 are the only viable options, and hairstyles 1-5 are okay. (Note: the pictures of the hairstyle icons will NOT match the hairstyle on the model.)

⚠️Clothing is also fairly limited! I'm not sure what dictates what child models can and cannot wear, so as far as I know, it's just a game of trial and error. You'll know immediately if an article of clothing isn't compatible lmaoo. Hats... rarely ever work...

✨Don't forget that you can save your model's data! When your model is customized to your liking, click "Export" at the bottom right of the menu to save the data to Anam. That way, you can load the appearance immediately without rebuilding it every time!

It's a mixed bag of what will and won't work on the model. My best advice is to experiment and play around with it! It took me a little bit to figure all of this out, so hopefully this silly little explanation helps out all the other new gposers out there :)

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to reach out and ask! I'll do my best to help! I may edit this as I go to correct things and/or add onto it!

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv gpose #ffxiv resources #ktisis #anamnesis #hope this little guide is useful :)#make sure to read the comments/reblogs for extra info!!

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littlejuicebox · 2 months

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Midwinter Carol 8 / The Scheme

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Elf Sorceress OC

Word Count: 2.4K

Story navigation: [1][2][3][4] [5] [6] [7]

Summary/Setting: Based on the prologue/premise from my OneShot “A Midwinter Carol.” / Astarion and the OC broke up after his ascension. She left Baldur’s Gate for fifteen years, only to return just recently. Following the events of “A Midwinter Carol,” Ascended Astarion has been convinced to pursue a new beginning. Will he be able to change who he has become, with the help of his ex-lover or will he ultimately fall victim to himself?

Preview:

“You’re far too comfortable within our arrangement, darling. Now, simply stand there and look pretty. It’s what you’re best at,” Astarion had finally drawled after a long silence between the two of them, feigning nonchalance at her comment while the white-knuckled grip on his goblet told another story.

Warnings: This will be 18+ / in game spoilers / Eventual Smut / Angst, trauma, fluff / Gore / Violence / PTSD / Astarion’s past trauma

A/N: Took two weeks, but we finally got there! I am going to try to start posting my longfics on a more consistent schedule. Stay tuned for the schedule, once I've figured it out lol!

-----

Delilah loathed people in power. She hated the moneyed patrons looking down their noses at her, always with an air of disgust. The wealthy acted as if they were doing her a favor; as if they weren’t the ones begging for her skills.

The elite she entertained in the brothels might have different kinks, different preferences, and different fantasies that she danced around… but one rule applied to every entitled, powerful individual that purchased her time: they loved to hear themselves talk.

It was quite comical how much her clients would share when they perceived her as an idiot. They often thought her beneath them; nothing more than a glorified decoration, a plaything. An empty vessel to spill their seed into.

But Delilah was far more cunning than she looked. She wouldn’t have been a whore, if only her circumstances had been different. Her aspirations had always been higher than sex work, and despite loathing people in power, she knew one of them would eventually be her meal ticket out of her situation.

She was too smart to be a whore and yet too desperate to shy away from any opportunity that came knocking upon her brothel door.

So when Astarion first spoke to her in Elvish, insulting her in the process, Delilah knew to stay silent. From almost the beginning, she intended to play the long game with the vampire and figured it best to appear ignorant.

She assumed his goading to be a test. She felt the silver-haired elf wanted to know if she understood his native tongue, though she didn’t quite understand why at the time. So instead of giving any indication she knew Astarion had just called her a filthy whore, Delilah simply smiled and purred a superficial compliment; it was something about how sexy he sounded speaking Elvish.

He bought it.

After that initial test from Astarion, he would often speak in Elvish when she morphed into Eirianwen’s shape. Most strings of his mother tongue were simply sweet nothings and lamentations he clearly would have preferred to say to the real woman, not the one he paid to portray her. It was tedious to endure the Ascendant as he relentlessly plunged in and out of her body, speaking sappy nonsense as she performed exactly the way he expected her to.

He always took forever to finish.

The ordeal was ridiculous, really. But her suffering proved worthwhile, for a time. It bought her connections to other elites, a new apartment, and — perhaps most valuable of all — pieces of information.

Over the years, Delilah collected many useful bits of knowledge from Astarion. The bastard loved to hear himself talk, in and out of bed, just like all the others. She sold some of the lesser information to his enemies and kept the most significant pieces stored within her mind.

Delilah knew he held the secret to true power – it was etched upon his back — and she wanted it for herself. She spent years assembling pieces of the puzzle and carefully unlocking the vaults of his psyche for that one purpose. It was no easy task.

But those years passed, and Delilah grew more impatient with the passing of each season. Astarion was dramatic, self-obsessed, privileged, and almost always held an air of missing that stupid sorceress. Constantly soothing his ego became a full time job, and Delilah began to think she loathed him more than she loved his money and connections to power.

Eventually, she thought she would simply convince Astarion to make her a true vampire, cut her losses, and just take those powers as a consolation prize. Her time enduring the Vampire Lord had been more than enough, and she was ready for it to end. She felt she understood why the real Eirianwen left him; if she’d had the means, Delilah would have been gone long ago, too.

But not everyone is a trust fund baby.

So, one evening, at another party almost identical in theme and guest list to the soirée they’d attended the week prior, Delilah broached the subject of immortality with Astarion. Her frustration quickly rose to the forefront when the Vampire Lord denied her far too quickly, as if he’d considered the option long ago and decided against it.

“Why not?” she’d pressed, her arm wrapped around his, simply playing the all-too-familiar part of a decoration at his side as they walked about the great hall of some noble’s mansion.

But, even as she asked, Delilah knew the reason: she was a glorified shell in his eyes; nothing more than a novelty item. She was hardly permitted to be in her own chosen form for these parties, or in general, after all. Astarion never wanted to see her as her. He always made her rotate her appearance as his date, instead. She was never supposed to be Eirianwen in public, of course, because imagine the scandal; but she was always some beautiful being.

Just not herself.

Among the many strange aspects of the egotistical man she’d tied herself to for years, Delilah found it odd that Astarion seemed to prefer the appearance of rakishness without actually being a rake. Though she suspected he liked the idea of appearing unattached, should the real Eirianwen ever flit back into his life. Idiot.

“I am not currently paying you to speak, Delilah,” Astarion had warned in a low hiss, his jaw tensed as he’d refused to look at the woman holding onto his arm.

She was in the form of some gorgeous, pouty-lipped, large chested brunette she’d seen while working in Waterdeep years ago. Astarion always seemed to prefer silver-haired dates, so Delilah intentionally gave him anything else when she was particularly irritated with the bastard.

“It’s been half a decade… she isn’t coming back, you know,” Delilah had snapped in response, unable to hold back her frustration after tempering herself for ages.

Five years had been far too long.

She’d been attached to this vile man longer than his precious sorceress ever had been and still played second fiddle to a memory. The thought made her insides boil with rage.

Not that she loved Astarion. Absolutely not. But she felt he still owed her something after all this time. Because truly, he was dreadful, and he would have done nothing of note with all that money and power if she hadn’t pushed him in the right direction. Hells, he couldn’t even sleep properly when they first met, let alone play political dragonchess with dignitaries and crime bosses.

No, the majority of that had been her doing. But of course, in his pride, the Vampire Lord was certain it had been him all along.

But the shapeshifter knew her value was severely underestimated. She was more than a common whore, more than an attractive escort, more than just a shell of someone else’s form. And after years of catering to Astarion’s massive ego, one would think her other talents would be of value to the Ascendant – at least enough to consider turning her.

Apparently not.

Ultimately, Astarion kept refusing Delilah’s requests for immortality. Eventually, the shapeshifter decided she’d had enough; she would have to find another route to power.

She’d wasted too much time already.

When Delilah first planned to break into the Palace, she knew entering through the dungeon would be most convenient. Waltzing in right through the front door, while potentially possible in Astarion’s form, would attract far too much attention. The servants swarmed him the moment he entered any room. Plus, she suspected her target happened to be in the bowels of the Palace, away from prying eyes – the dungeon would be faster, too.

It would be a quick job – get in, get out, get back to her new boss, get turned.

She knew the secret entryway into the dungeon was enchanted and required a password spoken in Astarion’s voice. At first, this had been a significant dilemma. Delilah’s shape shifting was flawless, and yet she always failed to adequately reproduce voices. However, thanks to his unwilling donation of DNA at the auction, the woman successfully brewed a potion that perfectly captured Astarion’s haughty tenor.

One utterance of “aeterna amantes” later and she found herself in the frigid cobblestone dungeon underneath her ex-lover’s abode.

She could not help but feel pride for her multiple talents at this moment. If Delilah had been able to afford tuition at Blackstaff thirty years ago, her life would be inconceivably different. Self-study and natural talents could only get her so far, unfortunately.

Locating the Jathiman Dagger – or “The God Killer,” as it had been called in the texts she read on the subject – had been effortless in comparison to her first trial. The ancient blade was rippling with arcane magic, and Delilah simply reached out to the Weave for guidance. Like a compass, the Weave led her straight to the second hidden passageway in the dungeon, this one much less guarded than the first. And there, behind an illusory wall, was the ticket to her future in the form of a well-worn, rusted dagger.

In truth, the woman thought the weapon that could kill anything from a god to a devil – and certainly a mere Vampire Ascendant, by that logic – would be far grander in appearance than just a simple serrated blade with a leather-wrapped hilt. At first, Delilah worried it was a decoy. But the arcane thrum when she touched the weapon was undeniable; all that was left on her end of the deal was to get back to Lady Lysandra and deliver the dagger. She could leave Edmund to rot if she wanted, Lysandra had indicated him to be disposable in their scheming.

But standing on the precipice of her future, and try as she might, Delilah couldn’t bring herself to take the final jump and leave the stupid spawn. Not after the time they spent together the past few months. He’d been, over all, a gentleman. And when she finally propositioned him after weeks, he’d never asked her to change into any other form, despite knowing she could… that had been a first for her.

‘Leave him, leave him, leave him,’ she thought as she made her way toward the secret tunnel leading out of the cobblestoned torture chamber.

And yet, against her better judgment and with half of her mind screaming in disbelief, Delilah stopped just before reaching freedom, tucked the dagger into her robes and began to climb the cobblestone steps of the dungeon. She willingly walked straight into the lion’s den.

Finding Astarion and Edmund had been simple; she only had to follow the pained grunts of the vampire spawn and the deranged shouting of her ex-lover. But as she walked in that direction, under cover of a simple invisibility spell, Delilah passed the master bedchambers where she’d laid under Astarion more times than she could count. Out of habit, she glanced into the room and spotted Eirianwen sound asleep, instead of writhing in pain like she should be with Delilah’s poisons working inside her body.

And gods that enraged Delilah. She wanted Astarion to suffer in the worst way, to watch the only person he ever seemed to love be tortured beyond belief, lose motor function, and eventually die after a long, chronic battle with the side effects of Delilah’s concoction.

He deserved it, and by extension, Eirianwen did, too. She made him what he was, after all.

But how was this possible?

The knowledge-seeker in the shapeshifting woman decided to take a quick detour, temporarily ignoring the tortured cries from Edmund in the next room. He was strong, surely he could endure for a mere moment longer as she examined the sorceress, she thought.

After a quick study of Eirianwen, Delilah notices the ring on the sorceress’s blackening hand and realizes it's the flimsy golden band that’s protecting the woman. She remembers the auctioneer toting the magical abilities of the rings Astarion ultimately paid far too much for.

But Delilah doesn’t dare touch Eirianwen to try and remove the ring. The newest potion coursing through the elven woman’s system had been a rush job; Delilah was not certain how potent the paralytic was or if it would transfer to her, another living being, via touch. It’s why she’d had Edmund carry the bottle around at the party, just in case there had been a mishap; her necrotic concoctions were much less potent on the undead, but on the living they were always particularly nasty.

A flurry of curses on the other side of the wall, followed by more vitriol from the Vampire Lord, all coming from the space next door she knows to be Astarion’s office, finally rips Delilah from her thoughts and pushes her forward. She doesn’t have a plan. She really did not expect herself to risk her neck for this random spawn.

Delilah morphs into Eirianwen’s form, mangled hand and all, and slowly edges her way toward the office. At minimum, she can distract Astarion and hopefully Edmund can break away with a bit of her assistance. He’s certainly strong.

When Delilah turns around the corner, she quickly realizes, much to her dismay, that any hopes of saving Edmund are gone. Astarion is crushing the other vampire’s skull in with one hand and plunging something into the man’s chest repeatedly with the other. Splatters of blood are sprinkled about the office like stars in the night sky. The man she’d spent months scheming with, fucking, and for whom she’d idly considered killing his master for once she achieved her goal is lying limp and mangled underneath the Ascendant.

Edmund is gone. And the realization elicits a genuine, horrified scream from Delilah. In that moment she realizes that perhaps she actually cared for him… as much as someone like her could care about anyone. When Astarion’s eyes snap to her, Delilah forgets she’s in Eirianwen’s form and runs.

Before long, the woman recollects herself as the silver-haired elf shouts down the hallway, calling after his precious Ani. She turns to look at the Vampire Lord, her face filled with hatred, and misty steps as far as she can away from him, back toward the dungeon entrance on the lower floor. Delilah was supposed to leave the murder of Astarion Ancunin to Lady Lysandra… but she just decided that she changed her mind.

She was going to kill Astarion in his own home, and she was going to savor every delicious moment as he watched the woman he loved stab him to death.

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A/N: Special shoutout to a reader, @lil23akira for absolutely calling this! I love that you were able to pick up on all my foreshadowing. And thank you to @leomonae and @tallymonster for reading this and providing feedback as I worked through what was the most difficult chapter to write thus far.

#astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #baulders gate astarion #baulders gate 3 #astarion fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic idea #baulders gate tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female oc #astarion x female tav #astarion x original female character #midwinter carol #ascended astarion arc #ascended astarion #ascendedstar #ascended astarion fic

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zitrovee · 1 year

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MH doodles and concepts

First just random fanart

I love sweet water lagoona im sorry shes so cute

Now then those are mostly designs i stopped working on for many reasons and i can barely find good images of them now cause theyre not even on my computer. Maybe i revisit them in the future but who knows

First something i tried together w the beach fan design- literally a gamer inspired line lol called gamer ghouls. i hate how drac turned out but the heart-shaped switch is something cool- i like frankie’s outfit and ghoulia is my fave here. its funny cause something i always think when i make g3 designs is ‘’how can i include drac in this’’ cause realistically my line of thinking is ‘’would these sell’’ and drac sells. i also try to keep in mind materials and how well the items would perform as toys too. drac is hideous here tho. the ghouls drinking monster was super funny in my head

drac in uniform sketch cause why not

this is a rough one. its for g1, i came up w the concept talking to an old friend, bonita and venus were her favorite dolls and i came up with the concept of a cybergoth inspired Bonita doll and a more slick also cyber inspired figure for venus (shes barely sketched there).

we had LOTS of creative differences (i came with a color pallete much, much different from that since i was inspired by cybergoth, focusing on neon and dark colors) and specially after some personal stuff i just gave up. i still like the concept but i cant really stand working with a concept in mind just to realize the other person isnt interested unless its their way. i wish i can revisit her in the future and apply the stuff i actually envisioned for her- but well, so far thats what we got. cant say im happy aside from the silhouette.

some other reaaally rough ideas for the beach line project for g3. i did most of those during my office work lol. those are for ghoulia. for her i wanted to keep in mind her 50s theme from g1 actually cause i love it so much. thats where the glam chill look came from. then i was like eh its nice but new ghoulia is way more rad and sporty so i tried to think of her doing surf (i also have sketches for deuce in surf attire so they would be fun) i have so many of those all over my house cause when g3 was barely launching i was so excited. and so bored at work. so i just got every paper note i could to sketch random ideas lol Also SILLY OC ALERT!!!

This was mostly a joke but i made her thinking of ET Bilu from a brazilian urban legend lol. thinking of her as a scary skinny legend w stereotypical and hilarious proportions common to old MH dolls was what inspired me at first but then also the whole 2012 pop diva look. Shes just a funny little gal. busquem conhecimento!

#monster high #monster high lagoona #monster high g3 #monster high oc #monster high design #monster high fan design #monster high fanart #draculaura #lagoona #doll design #zitro vee sketches #sketch dump

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ethereal-night-fairy · 8 months

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Forgotten sorrows

Chapter 4

Fae!Soap X Female Reader

Rún tries to keep her emotions in check while dealing with her traumatic memories and a turbulent reunion with Price.

Warnings: MDNI, dark themes, mention of trauma, suicide attempt, mental health talk unstable emotions, guilt and angst, sorry if I missed any.

Sorry I've been gone for so long it's been over a month i know. I just had a lot on my plate but I'm hopefully getting back to a more consistent writing routine. This chapter isn't all that great but it goes into detail on how Rúns mind works. Im not even sure Rún and Soap will be a thing by the end of this story but we'll find out together lol. Next chapter will probably be a mix between Rúns Pov and Soap's Pov. I just wanted to let anyone know that I'll be blocking blogs that follow me that don't have ages or +18 in their bio. I rather minors not read my content. I hope you all enjoy the chapter. This Fae au belongs to @ghouljams I feature their Oc in my writing, send them some love. This story wouldn't exist without them.

Forgotten Sorrows Masterlist

Masterlist

Words: 5.1k

After entering the home, you occupy yourself by looking around trying to see what had changed since you last came rather than talk about why you were crying. Your friend walked into her kitchen after getting you settled in her living room probably giving you time to sort through your thoughts. You felt the magic of her wards buzz around you welcoming you back after what felt like years but it had only been a couple of weeks since your last visit. Your eyes stung from crying and you felt a little restless so you get up and walk towards her massive bookshelves and cabinets. Little sniffles still left you as you inspect different vials and jars of herbs displayed on her old mahogany shelves. You definitely felt a lot safer than you did before which helped greatly in calming down your nerves. You decide to prop your little wrapped gift beside her other herbs and spices hoping she'll like it. Your best friend comes in with two mismatched tea cups on a tray with your muffins on it.

Sitting down she pats the space beside her on her sofa. She watches you walk over gingerly and sit down beside her. After handing you your cup she encourages you to take small sips of her herbal tea, gently probing trying to figure out how your seal broke while rubbing your back soothingly. She hasn't seen you like this since before your memories were sealed. You were never this unstable with your magic. Maybe it was a bad idea to begin with but it was the only thing at the time she thought would help you. You were in such a desperate state to forget everything, she was afraid you'd do something far worse. She eventually got you to speak. What followed was more tears and a whole lot of word vomit which she deciphered fairly quickly with some well placed questions. She'd gotten the gist of the series of events that brought you here in such a state. It was your sister again, she had a tendency to get herself in horrible situations only to dump all the responsibilities of said situations on you when things didn't work out. She wasn’t a fan of your sister and voiced her displeasure often. Though this time was far worse, your sister had become entangled with a fae. A fae clearly out to consume her. You were too kind for your own good and highly protective of the one person who said they wanted you as their family. You two would get into small arguments about the way your sister treated you so you both came to an agreement not to talk about it unless it was absolutely necessary to persevere your friendship. She was confused about how your seal broke though. Granted that you were only in your early teens when you managed to put the seal in place. But it had withheld all these years regardless of the amount of times you were perused by the fae or saw something parculiar. Especially that time when a fae tried draining your life force at your previous job. Witch was on a foraging expedition to gather rare plants in season when you ended up in the ICU. She had rushed back as soon as she was informed by your work. You were extremely lucky that fae from work didn’t come visit you in the hospital. You might of died if they came in contact with you in such a vulnerable state. You had chalked it up to overwork since the seal was in place which isn’t necessarily wrong. They did often overwork you with little regard for your wellbeing. Maybe your seal had reached it’s limit and was on the brink of collapse anyway.

Having gotten a fairly comprehensive understanding of the situation she starts gathering ingredients and materials to create protection amulets and charms while she listens to get your anger out on this 'infuriating' Fae as you so put it who was so adamant on ruining your sister. She clearly wasn't a fan of your sister and would much rather she left your life (not that she wished death upon her because she didn't....most of the time) but she knew it would devastate you losing more people in your life and she didn't want that. So out of the love she had for you she went about trying to help you the best she could. She listened to you go into great detail about why you hated this Fae. Why you wanted to "smack his stupid smirk of his handsome face" or that you wanted to "push his stupidily muscular body into the lake" or even better yet "gouging out his pretty ocean eyes". She couldn’t help but laugh to herself at the strange situation. You would inadvertently compliment him while thinking about all the ways you'd want to hurt him. She could clearly tell you were physically attracted to him but decided not to comment on it as she went outside to collect some things for the charms while you mulled over how you could further insult him.

She heard you pace around in the living room as you threw further insults at this mysterious Fae while enjoying a muffin. The witch felt a presence approach as she gathered the last of the ingredients she needed. Looking up she sees an ever so handsome Fae (though she'd never admit it to his face, not yet anyways) leaning against the wall and her threshold. She felt the smoke of his cigar engulf her in a warm embrace but she waved her hands dispensing the smoke cloud nonchalantly trying to appear unfazed by his appearance.

"Hello sweetheart", his deep gravelly voice sends shivers down her spine as she puts away her herbs into her basket standing up straighter.

"Price", she greets a little too eagerly, trying to keep the butterflies in her stomach at bay. They stay like this for what feels like hours just consuming each other through their eyes. Price eyes her up and down especially when she bends over to grab some herbs making idle chatter. Sometimes it feels like she dips her shoulders on purpose giving him an eyeful of full luscious breasts. Not that he's complaining but he'll have to teach her a lesson if she's doing that in public. She hears you walk outside through the backdoor still mumbling insults at that Fae you “absolutely” didn't have some sort of crush on.

"You know what's worse is his stupid name, What the hell kind of name is Soap anyway!?", She watches you look up from the muffin in your hand and freeze when you realise there's another 'visitor' in the garden. You lock eyes with Price with an odd look on your face as if you recognise him. It doesn't last long as you both hear Price speak. He just smirks leaning further against the wall pushing against the threshold a little more.

"Seems like a name for a true muppet if you ask me", he lets out a deep chuckle. Not knowing what to say you simply nod and mumble you'll be waiting inside. You glance back at him one more time with your magic swirling around you confused.

"She's all grown up", Price says to himself, moving away from the wall a little bit. "I'll come see you at a better time luv, seems like you have your hands full". The witch glances after Rún confused and goes to ask Price some questions only to realise he's left not before leaving a small bundle of rosy periwinkle on the wall with a small note attached. 'For the tea and biscuits last time'. She smiles at the note and puts the flowers into her basket to take inside still confused at your reaction to Price. She didnt realise you knew him.

You were sitting on the sofa finishing your tea when you saw her walk inside. You both exchanged a knowing look. You could see her flushed expression from a mile away. And She herself had questions she wanted to ask you. You spoke first excitedly.

"Well?", You narrow your eyes at her. "When were you going to inform me about this drastic change in your love life?

"What drastic change? He's juusst aaa …….friend?", She avoids looking at you while she begins preparing ingredients for the wards.

"Are you asking me or telling me? Because I don't believe you for a second!, you were making heart eyes at him", you scoff clutching your heart thankful for the change of topic. "Oh the betrayal!! The betrayal!! You kept this from me? Me? Your best friend? How could you?", You fake sob into your arm.

"You're so dramatic", she says, rolling her eyes focusing on preparing the things she needed. "I was not making heart eyes at him"

"Yes you were, I have eyes, I can see. Never took you for a liar", you pout. "And here I thought we'd live out our lives out together being platonic virgins", you hear your friend chuckle at that.

"Nevermind our stupid promise, that offer was only valid if we both reached 30 and hadn't lost our virginities or found someone we wanted to be with."

"So you admit it! You want to fuck him!",You watch her choke on her spit trying to deny it. "We only had a couple years left you know, we could have been platonic soulmates. But nooo you had to go find a very powerful Fae to take my place. I don't even have enough power to fight him to claim you. It's the beard isn't it? It is isn't it?”, you sigh playfully hand on your head as you lounge on her sofa like a french girl.

"Are you done?", she laughs grabbing a few things off her shelves. When she finally notices a small wrapped box on her shelf she lifts it to show you. She looks at you knowingly.

You avoid her eyes and just look outside refusing to comment on the present sitting in her hand. “How do you know Price?”, she asks changing the subjest. “You seemed to recognise him”.

“Price? Is that his name? Fits him well”, you think outloud. “Never took you as someone who was interesting in the elderly though”, you laugh jokingly trying to hide the pain of revisiting suppressed memories. You try piecing together the few instances you recall of him in your distorted mind. “I met him before i was brought to the orphanage, he looked the same as he did back then”. “You know the story of when i first met my father after my mother had died, he was there at the High courts when they decide what to do with me. He was the only one who spoke up and gave me the means to decide my own future.” You don’t explain further delving deeper into your own thoughts. Your friend notices and snaps you out of it not wanting you to enter a rabbit hole you won’t be able to get out of. She hands you the wards and protection charms to put into your sisters home.

“You dont need to think about that right now”, she holds your hands in hers. “The next few days are going to be extremely tough on your mind, your memories are going to come back in bursts and with your magic also manifesting you might spiral into hysteria. I want you to come stay with me for a little while so I can keep an eye on you and help you through it.”

You open your mouth to protest but she’s not having any of it. She insist you stay with her until your more stable and able to control your magic better. You sigh defeated and let her know you’ll pack your necessities and come back tomorrow after placing the wards in your sisters apartment. She hugs you as you leave and you feel the warmth and safety evaporate the second you step out through the gate. The feeling of dread re-enters your body and you glance around hastily before getting into your car and driving home. Maybe because you’ve become somewhat paranoid it almost felt if a shadow was following you or was in your near vicinity.

After placing the wards and charms in your sisters apartment when checking in on her as she worked from home you make your way back to your bestfriends house with your bag of necessities and clothing. Your sister seemed alot better and it didnt seem like Soap would bother her anytime soon considering she was complaining he wouldn’t respond to her texts from yesterday.

The next couple of days were very difficult. For both you and Witch. Guilt was eating away at you for being such a burden on her regardless of her constant reassurance that you were anything but. You tried your best to keep in touch with your sister as often as you could but with the building migraines and fits of passing out left you little time to worry about anything else. You also tried your best to be useful when you weren’t in pain but your attempts were shut down and you were told to rest. But after some light arguing she relented and allowed you to help with small tasks to keep your mind off things. Alot had happened in a few days and many disturbing memories resurfaced preventing you from leaving the bed. You spent majority of your day crying and trying to regain some sanity. Your daily meditation sessions helped with your racing mind and unstable magic. The witch would guide you through controlling your magic during the meditations even though your magic and hers were completely different.

Thing were slowly looking up but you felt very unsure of yourself and the identity you created when the seal was in place. The mundane life you had was your safe havan, which now felt inaccessible. You didnt know what to think anymore you didnt feel like the person you felt before, it was like you were back in the mindset of your childhood days. Times which you so desperately wanted to forget.

Memories would resurface of you trying to play with the other children at the orphanage. But because of the tricks the fae would play on anyone who got close to you they would get hurt, you were deemed unlucky or cursed. Some of the tricks were harmless enough like things going missing of being misplaced which would often be blamed you. But the pranks escalated as time went on, ending up with people being hit with potted plants that were on window sills or tripping and falling into nettles. One of worst memories that resurfaced so far was when you were waiting on the curb with another orphan girl you had befriended, you two were waiting to cross the street on your way home from school. You watched as other parents and guardians had come to pick up their children. You remember yearning for someone to hold your hand too while asking how your day was. From the coner of your eye you saw a large shadowy dog? Or was it a cat? Approach your friend as you two stood waiting for the lights to turn green. You had tried desperately to shoo it away before it came closer but the girl just saw it as you being mean to the animal and stopped you. You saw it push your friend onto the road when a car was approaching. Logically it would have been impossible for the animal to have pushed her onto the road so when it had happened and the car came to a screeching halt an inch away from the girl. Every adult on the street and cars understandably were screaming at you after making sure the girl was ok. Who was now crying recoving from the shock of almost dying. The orphanage cartakers were called by the teachers at the school gate and you were kept away from the other kids for a really long time as punishment. And for their safety for your so called ‘unpredictable behavior’ even though it wasn’t you who had done it.

The isolation that followed was one of the worst you ever felt. But blaming it on an animal you called a fairy would have deemed you insane or in need of mental counselling so you kept your mouth shut and took the blame. You could never forget the look your friend had given you after the ordeal. You spent months grounded with having to take up more chores to atone for your actions. Rumours spred like wildfire in school, parents and teachers alike warned kids to stay away from you. But after things settled down the guilt of the situation made you go apologise to the girl even though you never pushed her. You kept to yourself after that much to the releif of the other kids. The only place you felt safe was at the house of your current best friend. Her and her family would come donate things to the orphanage and spend time with the children. You laugh to yourself remembering the first time you had met her. She had introduced herself as ‘witch’ and nothing more as you sat on the grass making flower crowns at the edge of the garden. You had told her to stay away and that bad things would happen to her if she came close to you. Which she proceeded to ignore saying she isnt afraid of the fae. You remember looking at her with shock and admiration. For the longest time you were ridiculed for blaming the bad things that happed on ‘fairies’ as everyone else put it. You were now banned from talking about said ‘faries’. You asked if she could see them and she said no but she could sense them and her family said they were real so it had to be true ‘because grandma doesn’t lie’ . You asked why she wasn’t afraid and she said her family and her home is protected. And that you should come visit her grandmothers cottage since its only down the street. You watched her leave with her grandmother through the gate. They placed a charm on the gate before they left and you waved them goodbye.

You honestly owe your life to your her considering all she had done for you. You wouldn’t have made it so far in life without her. Hence the reason why you sat in her sofa ridden with guilt for causing disturbance to her life. Though she adamantly denies it. You watch her mull around her work space opening and closing drawers and jars making a list of things to stock up on.

“At least let me help”, you plead

“Absolutely not, you just had a mental breakdown”, she points her pencil at you before going back to what she was doing. “Sit pretty and enjoy your tea before it gets cold”

“Please i feel like a freeloader, a leach, a parasite”, you pout at her hoping to change her mind

“You are anything but, you may not realise or value the things you do for others but I do so just sit and enjoy your tea and let me take care of you”, she smiles at you finishing up her list.

“Can i make dinner at least?”

“No we’ll order takeout once i come home from shopping, i would take you with me but your magic is unstable right now so its best if you rest while i run some errands”, she walks over to you and places her hand against your cheek lovingly. “You are and never will be a burden on me, ok?”

You look into her eyes and nod as you get up to follow her to the door as she gathers her essentials. Before she leaves you call out to her one last time.

“Give me something small to keep myself occupied while your gone then....please”, you plead

She catches the desperation in your eyes, this whole ordeal was taking its tole on you she could see in your sunken eyes and the dark circles you now have due to the lack of sleep and constant nighmares. She thinks for a bit before she speaks.

“The flowers around the house are getting old, why not make some new flower arrangements to put in the vases?”

You smile at her suggestion and nod as you wave her goodbye and lock the front door.

You go about gathering all wilted flowers around the house and taking the vases to wash in the sink. Once everything was cleaned and dried you pick a basket and sheers to go into the garden to gather new flowers to arrange into bouquets. It felt a little odd being in the cottage all by yourself but the warmth and safety never left. You look open the back door taking in the good weather.

The fresh air felt nice on your skin. Paired with the bright sun shining on you, a calming sensation engulfed your senses. You let a shaky breath out trying to dispel all your worries even if it was only momentarily. You take a look around the garden contemplating on what flowers to choose. The red rose bush near the back gate stood out to you. They were in full bloom and had a lovely smell emanating from them. Making your way towards the bush you were careful not to touch the thorns as you cut the roses and put them into the basket.

The felt a familiar presence approach without having to look you knew who it was. The wards hummed in recognition as he leaned againt the wall, pushing at the threshold. You didn’t feel any form of hostility or danger from him surprisingly.

“She’s not here, but im sure you knew that already”, you say straighting your back and making eye contact with Price.

“Oh? And how would i have known that? “, he chuckles

“Your claim is on her, i only realised when i had seen you that day. There was a scent on her and her things that i overlooked”, you pout slightly still upset at losing your platonic soulmate, yeah definitely platonic....

You shake your head trying to dispel your thoughts.

“You upset i stole her from you?”, he smiles mischievously.

“I wouldn’t call it stealing per say. She’s still in my life and i dont plan on that changing. Her hapiness and wellbeing is my top priority, if you so happen to bring her hapiness who am i to object. Im happy as long as she’s happy”

“ ‘s that so?”

“Im asuming your here for some other reason than to annoy me?” you finish gather the roses as you move towards the peonys at the far end of the the right wall. Price casually walks as you do continuing the conversation.

“Heard one my boys was causing you some trouble. That muppet Soap has a ferocious appetite. I’ll warn you he hasn’t had a good meal in a while. Might be best to let your sister go and mourn already. I need my boys well fed to run my errands”, he says sympathetically.

Your pain takes a spike as you hear him mention Soap and your sister. You chest felt heavy when you look into Price’s eyes. He might of meant it sympathetically but in your mind it came across as condescending almost as a warning to back off. You felt hurt at his words considering he had helped you when you were little.

You scoff fighting the tears in your eyes and busy yourself gathering the peony.

“You fae are all the same, selfish and unempathetic”, you didnt want to enage in the conversation further conviced he’d say somthing to further upset you so you turn to leave. The pain was spreading from your chest as if you were being injected by liquid fire. It was coursing through your veins and burning every nerve ending. You felt your magic whiplash around you trying to keep danger away even if it was only emotionally.

“Don’t forget you have the same blood flowing through you. You are one of us. He may be doing you a favour by removing your sister from your life”

You snap your head toward him, anger bubbling up from deep within. You feel the pressure push at the walls of your mind. “When have i ever been seen as one of your kind!? This blood has brought me nothing but torment!!”, you laugh with no mirth in your voice. “Doing me a favour!? Doing me a favour? By what? Taking away my only family? By taking away the only person who needs me? My sister is the reason I am alive right now, I continue living for her sake. If she’s gone I have no purpose”, you give him your worst glare. You eyes begin to hurt and you feel a migrain coming on but you refuse to blink. You want to drive home the point you aren’t afraid of him or any fae especially when it came down to family. The magic within you becomes scorching hot, expanding and creating pressure that you felt in your eyes. The longer you stared the more the pain grew. It was as if you were pulling an elastic band to its limits waiting for it to snap or for you to let go. Either way you knew the sting was coming.

Price didnt say anything and returned your stare unnerved. He could see the pain not only in your heart but in your mind. He could feel the pain through the magic in the air, your magic had taken on a murky colour a mixture of red and green. You were actively fighting the seal on your eyes trying to prove a point but you were just hurting yourself. Your eyes were growing teary and he knew you were about to break. What he didnt expext was for your magic to combust around you when it happened. Like a match being thrown into a pool of gasoline the flames engulfed you.

You collapsed onto the grass desperately trying to contain your magic and tears. You felt like a failure, a burden trying to grasp at straws to keep people in your life. Now look at what you’ve done! How were you to explain how the garden burnt down. You sob into your hands trying to calm down. You wished the flames would just consume you. You were tired, so tired. If there was no hope in saving your sister why bother living. You thought of your will as you felt the flames touch your skin and burn you. At least you could repay them back in some sense for having had to waste their time on you all these years. Just as quickly as you embrace the flames you felt them extinguish. A cold sensation ran all over you soothing your superficial burns before you realised you were wet. You open your eyes and see Price inside the threshold but quite a distance away as if he couldn’t get to you in time.. You look at him confused. An empty watering can lay next to you. It must have been the protection wards that had put you out. You knew your friend would have felt that and was probably on her way home.

You look around disoriented, nothing had been burnt expect you. You decided to just stay quiet. You didn’t know how you could possibly go about explaining what had just happened to your friend when she got back without incriminating yourself and your attempt to end everything. You watch Price crouch down to your level bringing his hand towards you. You flinch and move back.

“Im just trying to see how badly your injured, i won’t hurt you”, he sighs a sad look crossing his eyes.

“Maybe not phyically but you have a way with words”, you bite back.

“We’re often blind to volatile people in our lives. Im sure i’m not the first or only person to warn you about her”, you stay quiet because you yourself know what your sister is like an how she treats you but for some reason you feel bound to help and take care of her to the point of exhaustion. You feel indepted to her for showing you kindness when no one else would especially after you sealed your memories away. Spending time in a house where no one acknowledged you was heart wrenching, she was your salvation when you couldn't find purpose in life. You couldn’t abandon her now. You were bound by duty of repayment.

You sniffle as you roughly wipe your face wincing when you came in contact with the burn. You had few people in your life who cared about you. You desperately needed to be of use to them. It was the only way in your mind they tolerated your presence. Why else would anyone need you or want you? You wouldn’t have been abandoned or mistreated if you were useful. The current situation had you feeling on thin ice as if you’d become a nuisance to the very person you love. Regardless of the amount of times she has reassured you, your mind refuses to believe it.

‘She’s just being nice’ ‘She just a kind hearted person to everyone your not special to her’ ‘You need to get better and leave before she she gets tired of you’, you mind would constantly berate you for wanting your needed anything from others. You needed to be 100% independent in order not to inconvenience anyone. And right now you were anything but. You were glad you didn’t burn down her garden though, one less thing to add to the growing list of situations to feel guilty for. The pain in your chest didn’t dissipate it only got worse as you sat there on the grass, as Price looked around for something to dry you with. In your desperation to lesson the pain you claw at your chest feeling around to rip out the source of your troubles. But how was one supposed to rip out emotions? You kept feeling around trying to find somthing tangible to pull out but you couldn’t. You were just left with a guilty conscience and a river of awful memories. Price tried to approach you a couple more times but you refused to let him near.

You didn’t know how much time had passed but the summer sun had dried you by the time you heard the front door open hastily and you watch your friend try to locate you. Your skin was still stinging from the burns as Price stood by leaning against the wall with his arms crossed with an unreadable expression on his face. She came into the back garden with a frantic look on her face. You watch her run to you and collapse onto the grass holding you to her chest. You wince from the burns and she pulls back holding your face in her hands, inspecting to see the extent of the damage. All you could do was apologise as tears streamed down your face. Begging for forgiveness saying you didn’t mean for it to happen. She just held you as you let everthing out.

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empressofmankind · 5 months

Text

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV] [Part V] [Part VI] [Part VII]

Oh damn. This is so not the kind of stuff Crocodile is into, omg. Resting bitch face, whomst. C'mere babe, it's OK, you can skulk back into the shadows in a minute you sad reptile.

You look up 'playing along' in the dictionary, it gonna have their faces right next to it. Mihawk is so done.

Love the dramatic music score under it, and the crowd noises. Buggy is loving this shit. You do you honey, this is what you're good at. Don't let the meanies ruin your moment.

Gotta do another shout out at my boy, Cabaji. You'll figure out why when Part 3 of 'The Show Must Go On' drops, lol.

Man, I love that drama clown?

Also, every close up of him so far has been flawless.

THE MUSIC???

Crocobi's face. He's suffering in such silence.

Mihawk still with the exact same resting bitch face.

...I don't think that's why Bugsby is crying, guys.

OMFG CALLED IT??

Oh Buggy, you poor dumbass let me hug you. You stupid stupid clown.

Hot damn, that was a whole experience.

SEE YOU ALL NEXT WEEK? I GUESS???

In the interim, why don't you check out some of my outstanding content, if I may say so myself?

'The Show Must Go On' - Buggy x OC - Poor Bugs continues to be life's favourite punching bag. My guy, just ask her like a normal functional adult? It's really not that hard.

'On My Silent Days, I Miss You A Little Louder' - Crocodile x OC - Welcome to Cross Guild content absolutely nobody asked for. Solid plotline, this one. 0/10 do not recommend kissing your ex. That never ends well. Oh, it's the same OC. For bonus points on drama.

I make arts too!

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jeskoholic · 11 months

Text

A Little Piece of You Chapter 16: A Coffee Date

This is a chapter from an on-going series. If you missed out on the previous entries, you can check my masterlist.

Previous chapter: Boy Talk

Word count: 5,811

Tags: Male OC, College Friends, Jisoo and Nayeon, Coffee Shop Date

Enjoy

---

---LATER THAT EVENING---

Before the thought of Dawn’s so-called master plan could even flush naturally itself out of my system, I immediately moved to bring Ningning on top of my head the moment I parted ways with both of my friends. I haven’t solidly thought of a good enough reason to approach her, especially now that things have gone differently ever since we last conversed. It certainly felt weird that I would just message her out of nowhere not soon after the whole Soyeon-situation… or maybe it was just me being really awkward towards her and absolutely thinking too much out of a normal situation. After all, Ningning and I began to be friends because of United Kwangya, and now that most of the chat has been in shambles since then, I figured there was some sort of barrier that I had to jump to get to her.

It could probably be just me.

However, the thought of that conversation when we were at Yeouido was the debating point, as well as what happened in Valentine’s Day. Somehow that provided me enough leverage to talk to her not merely as someone I shared on the chat with. Ningning and I shared something that connected us away from just United Kwangya.

I don’t even know why I’m making this much of a big deal. I just need to talk to her for the sake of Hyojong, right?

After what felt like minutes of staring at her chat tab, right at the comfort of my own room, I finally managed to input the first couple of characters that ought to take her attention.

Yoon Jae-in: Hey, Ning?

I paused for a bit, hesitating for a bit whether I should continue on or not. It was definitely awkward seeing our last exchange of messages to be inclined with Soyeon. At this time, I really do not want to be involved in any sort towards her; not until I’m comfortable enough to be around her again at least. Also, Ningning always had her chat tab offline so I really don’t know if she’s here or not.

Ningning: Yeah, I’m here. You need something?

Oh, she’s online. I guess that’s convenient.

Jae-in: Actually yeah… I want to talk to you about something.

Ningning: Is this about Soyeon?

Jae-in: No… please don’t get the wrong idea. It’s completely unrelated to that. Well, maybe not entirely but hey. This actually is just between both of us and what we’ve talked about back at Yeouido. I remember having a conversation with you about photography right? I was just wondering if you’re interested on doing it this time around.

Ningning: What the fuck, Jae-in… Are you telling me that you want to do the photography thing now because you’ve finally separated ties with Soyeon? Is that what you mean? >:)

Shit, I forgot how that conversation went… she’s already getting the wrong idea.

Jae-in: No! It’s totally not like that. This is actually for Dawn. He’s told me that he want his picture to get taken and asked if I knew someone who had at least a good experience with that. Of course, having that talk back then, I figured you’re the first person who popped up in my head. What do you think about that?

Ningning: Really now? Why not Kino? He’s clearly into these types of things a lot more than I am and I’d say he has far better experience than I do. It’s just a hobby for me, unlike him who literally had a wedding shoot entirely on his own.

Jae-in: He’s quite unreliable though and Hyojong kind of agrees with that. At least I have an assurance that you’d do it once you agree. You’re less likely to back out from that once you’re in, as well. Are you interested on doing it? Dawn’s really looking forward to it.

Ningning: It’s for a girl, isn’t it?

Jae-in: Maybe; you can ask him yourself if say, you agreed to it.

Ningning: Well, that’s a good tactic to bait me into it, I’ll give you that. LOL

Ningning: I suppose I won’t mind. It’s amazing how that convo back at Yeouido stuck with you. Normally most people would just forget.

Ningning: Just don’t expect something extravagant with the outcome. I told you that I’m more into sceneries more than anything, okay? Don’t keep your standards up because I’m really just a novice.

Jae-in: Don’t worry; I’ll ask him to find a place with a good scenery as well, in that way you can make the most out of the trip. Yes, it’s for a girl by the way. Also, I think Dawn’s willing to cash in, otherwise he would not be asking me to look for people.

Ningning: That won’t be necessary but damn… I never expected that of all the people in United Kwangya, it was Hyojong who’d be simping this early on; what in the actual fuck?

Ningning: I’ll just message Dawn how things would go. We’ll settle the schedule for good.

Jae-in: Thanks Ning, I owe you one.

Ningning: Hey, if this works out for him, don’t y’all single bitches go looking for me for you pictures, okay? LMAO

Jae-in: Don’t worry; the favour you gave me is already for Dawn. I have no interest of trying it now. I’m too busy.

Ningning: Maybe you should.

Ningning: On second thought, maybe not. I prefer it when you’re single Jae-in. LOL.

I stared at her message.

Huh?

What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?

Ningning: Well, I got to go. TTYL

---SOME TIME LATER---

It never occurred to me that the university’s following week was busy as it could have gotten, at least for the subjects that I was taking up, anyway. Major subjects were still schedule for the following semester and yet I could already feel the dump of school works coming my way. It’s a good thing that I still have that one little summer semester break to serve as a breathing room before the great responsibilities came.

To make it short, Dawn’s small favour literally flew off of my head as soon as I arranged him with Ningning. I guess I had it coming to me; I figured that muting United Kwangya could lessen things up for a bit and let the less-awkward members interact within that chat. Soyeon showed no signs of her presence, so I figured I should match her for the time-being.

Once all was said and done, the next level of Dawn’s master plan finally unveiled itself. I didn’t even notice the overhaul of his entire profile; that the arrangement I did for him actually worked and that he’s progressing already behind the scenes. It’s more impressive that he and Ningning, along with some help from Shinwon and probably even Hongseok, managed to fit all of that in one single week. All it took was one busy NLIU day and somehow the date for Jisoo and Dawn was already up in the air. It’s crazy.

It’s like I blink for five minutes and now everything’s set.

It was one Friday afternoon perfectly aligning with the university’s sports events, effectively leaving Shinwon and the rest of United Kwangya free from classes. At least Hongseok’s ‘playboy’ tendencies worked out well for Dawn here. Anyway, that day I received a private message from Dawn directing me towards the mall placed beside a known city cathedral. Port Skyview was this large commercial complex situated beside the busy streets of the city, leading straight towards its rival, Metro Station mall. The hilly and sloped topography of its lot allowed the topmost floor of Port Skyview to be situated right beside the foot of the church, while in turn justifying its name as it gave a breath taking skyline view of the entire city night life at sundown.

A couple of minutes after 2 PM and I found myself perched on the rail of Sky View’s own terrific sky terrace, with the unexpected company of Hongseok leaning on the rail beside as well. At this rate, the pharaonic view of the City’s proud hills as well as the virgin skies were testament to how beautiful the city was whether you’re in Metro Station or here.

I initially thought that this would be awkward with Hongseok considering the last meeting, but thankfully he’s a very social person. All my doubts were lost with a curt nod as soon as we met in front of the café. It’s like nothing really happened.

Dawn’s message led both me and Hongseok into a coffee shop situated right above the beautiful landscape; it’s cubic glass architecture enabling natural amounts of light to illuminate the beautiful and modernized interior. On its façade, a huge sign written mostly in neon red and violet minimalist letters: Neverland Coffee. The majorly white aesthetic inside reminded me so much of Joohyun-noona’s overly-tidy taste.

I wonder if she’d been to this café before. I really should consider inviting her here one day.

“Should we get in and get our orders ahead of them?” I asked Hongseok after sensing the void of words between our conversations.

“That’s a good idea. We’re not even the heart of the party anyway.”

Thankfully, the said coffee date was once again held on an unconventional time. Ordering would not be such of a huge chore considering we have the shop pretty much to ourselves, which was very much what Hongseok and I would have wanted. As much as the really simple design of the café was already captivating from the outside, the simplistic approach of its modernized interior was a perfect touch. Given the breath-taking view it had on its second floor (which awkwardly reminded me of the mezzanine back at NLIU Library), Hongseok and I agreed to select the best seats in the house; eventually settling on the far end of the second floor.

This was just the beginning of an interesting day. I do hope this would turn out in favour of Dawn more than anything else.

---

Hongseok was the one who volunteered to fetch their orders once it was already available. To Jae-in’s surprise, he returned back up the small, terrace-like second floor of the place accompanied with five new figures three of which Jae-in immediately recognized. Ko Shinwon’s tall stature walked beside a smaller girl, dressed in an all-white med-school uniform giving off a wide smile; marking the first time since Skylight’s first drinking session that he would see the girl named Yeri. Then, right behind the couple was Kim Hyojong wearing a knitted vest over his shirt coupled with a small hat to compliment his blond hair. He immediately supplied the seated figure of Jae-in with a smile the moment that their eyes met.

Then, right behind him were two girls that Jae-in recognized to be Im Nayeon and Kim Jisoo from the photos not that long ago. Jisoo wore a simple black dress with a matching bag, yet it did more than enough to emphasize her beautiful presence. Her friend, Nayeon, stood near her wearing a beige coat over a white blouse as well as high-waist pants. She supplied each of them with a wide, bunny-like smile the moment she set her eyes on Yoon Jae-in.

“Look who I found ordering below,” Hongseok said as he moved to take the seat beside Jae-in. He then placed the tray having both of their orders while gesturing towards the other table. “We ordered ahead, so sorry about that. Jae-in and I reserved you the best seats in the house, so anyone can seat with us if you’re interested.”

“Well, before all of that, let me just introduce you to them,” Dawn said giving a short nod. “Guys, let me introduce you to Nayeon and Jisoo. Girls, these are my friends, Jae-in and Hongseok. You’ve already met Shinwon and Yeri a while back, so there we go.”

The four new comers exchanged nods and smiles, with Hongseok offering to give them a hand to shake. Fortunately, the newcomers Nayeon and Jisoo were fond of the gesture and returned the action. Pressured to do the same, Jae-in awkwardly stretched his hand and shook after his friend, with his eventual contact with Nayeon taking longer than usual, much to the interest of Jisoo’s friend.

“I think it would be better if you and Jisoo would sit there,” suggested Yeri as she pointed towards the other table bearing a reasonable distance from their own. “That way, we won’t hear you if you’d talk. You’ll get some privacy that way. You can sit with us, Nayeon-ssi, if you like.”

“Oh I’d love to,” Nayeon replied, pointing a finger towards the chair. Her question was met with a mutual gesture from both Hongseok and Jae-in almost at the same time. “You guys don’t mind me sitting with you, right?”

Given that mutual agreement between them, Jisoo and Dawn politely excused themselves from the rest of the members as they went on off ahead on a separate table. Nayeon, on the other hand, took the chair opposite Yoon Jae-in without hesitation, with Yeri following suit beside her and Shinwon sitting next to them.

“So, Nayeon-ssi,” Hongseok said, clearly taking charge of the conversation immediately to loosen off the awkward barrier. Jae-in always knew him to be the type who’d do that. “Welcome to our friend group. It’s nice to have someone new to talk to. Please don’t be awkward with us, but I don’t think you have that aura with you, right?”

Nayeon nodded with a wide smile. “I’m happy to be here. If you guys want to ask me some questions, feel free to do so. I do have an aura that you all have something to ask to me in some form, am I right?”

“Well, you’re not just pretty, you’re really smart too,” Hongseok said after taking a sip from his drink. He leaned in closer to the group and dialled down his voice. “I’ll cut it with the chase then, Nayeon. I’m quite interested how this entire thing happened with our boy Dawn over there. I heard that things were quite unusual, no? Is it true that he first talked to you?”

Hongseok does as he does best; skipping the formalities and hitting everything straight to the core. I’m glad that he’s invited here.

“I’m curious as well,” added Yeri. “I’ve only heard things from all of you through Shinwonnie here, and I’m more than surprised to even know that you and Dawn actually knew each other, Nayeon-ah.”

“Yeah, I found things really interesting as well. I certainly was not expecting a familiar face to see in a date like this; especially a former Middle school classmate such as Yeri here. But then again, the world is such a small place and things like this are bound to happen. It’s exciting that way, don’t you think?”

“So, I heard that you’re the one that made everything possible,” said Hongseok to Nayeon. “From what I’ve been hearing from Dawn there, you were the one who introduced them to each other, is that right Nayeon? I’m surprised that you and Dawn did not end up being the ones in the same table on this date; how come that was not the case?”

Nayeon smirked.

“Well, as much as Hyojong there is a pretty nice person to talk to, I guess we both mutually did not feel that sort of spark towards each other. Beside I’m just interested on…”

She shifted her gaze towards Jae-in, who was busy mixing the pearls of his bubble tea lodged on the bottom of the cup using the straw provided.

“…I’m interested on different kind of guys, so I guess we just didn’t click on that aspect. He’s not just for me, per se.”

“I see, so that’s the case. Well, it’s good that somehow this worked out towards Hyojong in the end. At least now that he has someone to talk to, he would no longer have to wait and…”

Whatever happened after Hongseok took charge of the conversation was quite thrown out of the window. Jae-in spaced out the moment that Nayeon joined their table, viewing it to be really awkward considering the last time he shared a table with a girl did not really end well. Unintentionally, he had that isolated feeling as Shinwon, Yeri, Hongseok and even the newcomer Nayeon shared their conversations as if he was the one who was new. There was no real particular reason for it; it’s just that he felt really left out all of a sudden.

It was certainly not because he was sad or anything; he’s sure that he’s not by any means. Jae-in had that sense of losing enthusiasm being around the friends he felt so far off at that time. Even during his spacing out, his eyes danced towards the figures of Jisoo and Dawn talking at the other table. He could not help but admire how picture-perfect they were framed along the glass-panels of the said café, with their figures etched in an amazing painting amidst the soft skies beyond. Their conversation was inaudible from where he was seated and yet he could see the genuine smiles that emanated from them both. The fact that all of this was a result of a collective effort of a good amount of people from United Kwangya… the results were just beautiful.

Of course, given that state he could not help but wonder how he and Soyeon would have turned out had things worked for both of them.

Would they be having the same kind of date as Hyojong and Jisoo are having now?

There was also another, completely unrelated question with that…

If Ningning made all of these possible, she’s supposed to be the first person to show up. Where is on earth she?

“Hey, Yoon Jae-in…!”

The sound of Shinwon’s voice immediately brought him back to the coffee shop with the rest of them. Jae-in didn’t even realize how long he was staying in silence, merely staring at the blank space of the cup’s dews formed on the outside surface. He didn’t even realize that the rest of the orders were already served and that everyone had their orders with them.

“Y-yeah…?” he remarked with a stutter, returning the obnoxious gaze that the rest of the table gave him. “Sorry, what was that?”

“You’re spacing out. You seem to be lost in so much thought,” Hongseok replied, tapping his back here. “We’re just about to tell you how rude you are for leaving Miss Nayeon there and not engaging on a conversation.”

“Yeah,” The girl, Nayeon, said with a smirk. “Your friends are talking about selling you to me in exchange for more drinks. You’re cute when you’re spacing out, though, I’ll give you that.”

What?

“Excuse him please. He just actually came from a break-up that’s why he’s like that,” blurted Shinwon, with Yeri beside him slapping his arm in retort. “Woops, it slipped out. Sorry man.”

“Oh, I’m sorry… I was just joking, by the way,” Nayeon said. “I didn’t know… but at least we know that you’re single.”

“You know what, now that we’re all here… well most of us, but anyway… can you just shine the light up on us on how you and Soyeon broke up anyway?” Hongseok said once again, taking command of the conversation like he did before.

“Why… why are you bringing this up right now?” asked Jae-in.

“Hey, if you all are going to talk about his past, I don’t think I should be here. I can just wedge in between Dawn and Jisoo’s conversation and make the guy a third wheel,” said Nayeon.

Jae-in shook his head and raised his hand to stop Nayeon on her tracks.

“No, no, it’s fine… you don’t need to leave. It’s… I really don’t mind.”

I doubt that she knows me or Soyeon that much to the point that it would matter that she knows anyway.

Plus, I really don’t mind. She seemed cool, so…

“Well, not only good looking but also really polite,” Nayeon remarked once again. “Alright, I’ll just pretend that I’m one of you. That doesn’t seem too hard to do.”

“Great then, so, what happened, Jae-in? Could you please enlighten us on what happened between you and Soyeon?”

“I’m curious as well,” Yeri said in agreement. “You two were so sweet from what I’ve heard, so this really came as a huge shock, especially since Soyeon’s been telling and updating me on what’s progressing between both of you. I certainly did not see this coming.”

She did that?

“I-Umm, well it’s complicated, but to cut the story short we never really worked out so we just decided… well, I decided that it’d be better if we went our separate ways… She didn’t entirely take that positively so, she’s mad at me I guess.”

“It turns out that Jae didn’t like Soyeon since the beginning,” Shinwon informed, causing Jae-in to eye him in shock as he clearly not expected him to blurt it out blatantly like that. It did not make it less of being true, however.

“Yeah well, that too. I’m kind of just struck with the alcohol when she confessed so I guess my reactions weren’t exactly… me, so to speak. Hongseok knows about this and I’ve talked about Shinwon pretty much has a good idea what I had in mind, because we already talked about it back then…”

“I got that right… I certainly won’t forget that,” Hongseok said with a teasing tone. “Well, that’s in the past. I already learned my lessons from that even in Sizzlers so we’re good. Let me ask: is it really over for the two of you? Is there zero chance of you ever talking to her again?”

“On terms of a romantic thing… I would say yes... maybe. However, I would definitely not close doors on her if the opportunity would give us a chance to be friends again. I kept on thinking that we started off on the wrong foot anyway, so we are bound to start talking again at some point, I hope.”

“I guess it makes sense now why you were so hesitant towards her, man… You know if you just told us that you didn’t like her in the first place, Ningning and I could’ve just told Soyeon and all the fuss didn’t happen. Maybe not tell her of everything but at least give her some hints that the impact would not be this troublesome. You are, I think, the first ever guy that rejected Soyeon’s advances, an act of which owes a huge respect on my regard. It’s hard to do that.”

“It might be my pride that’s not letting me do that before, but trust me: that’s what I’ve been planning to do all these times even before we had that talk. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it until I just did it out of pure desire to tell her the truth. I didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to be, but things could’ve been worse. You know, it is what it is. I’ll just have to deal with the outcome.”

Hongseok smiled. “Do you miss her though?”

Their table went awfully silent with the rest of them anticipating for Jae-in’s answer.

“I’d lie if I say I didn’t miss her. I think that’s a pretty normal thing to say.”

Yeri nodded, and due to the ensuing silence, Jae-in continued.

“Soyeon’s really very caring and is really relentless on showing her feelings, but sometimes it’s just too much. Maybe that’s what caused me to feel a bit strangled and obliged to do the things she does; pressured to return the same level and grade of affection towards her to be even. Not to mention, we have a lot of uncommon interests. Shinwon already had a hint that we’d not work out for that long.”

“If given a chance though,” Yeri asked. “Would you still date now? It doesn’t have to be Soyeon, let’s say a new person comes up at a much unexpected time, are you even up for it? I’m sure those things are not really that impossible right?”

Shinwon nodded. “That’s a good question. Things like that really do happen especially when you’re not looking for it.”

Nayeon, on the other hand, shifted on her seat as she waited eagerly for Jae-in’s reply. The young man was about to reply when he shook his head, effectively breaking free of the invisible spell the group unintentionally cast on him.

“Wait a minute, why are you all ganging up on me now, hmmm? I answered things because I thought that it would be just a one-time thing, how come we’re bringing my life onto the table all of a sudden? I thought we’re supposed to be here for Dawn?”

“I mean, given that, but you really can’t deny that it’s an interesting question,” said Hongseok from his side. “You have a tendency to go missing from the chat, especially after you and Soyeon broke up.”

“I don’t do that, man.”

“Actually you do, Jae-in.”

“I want to know as well…” Nayeon seconded, her face showing a hint of shyness this time around.

I really don’t get why Nayeon is so into this. We literally just met. I do hope she’s just kidding because it feels… suspicious.

Gearing up for an answer is so stupid for this. I never thought that I’d be brought upon the hot seat.

“I… I never really closed my heart for things. It would feel like a crime against nature to go against it. If a destined person comes, I’m sure that I’m going to feel it so… I’m not closing doors. If she comes, she comes.”

“Say Jae-in,” Hongseok asked after taking a sip from his tea. “If there’s someone out there who’s like Soyeon, but not Soyeon, would you go for it?”

“What the fuck is that question? I don’t really have standards on people anyway and you know of that. I have preferences, but I’m not pigeonholed into just those things. We’ll work out if we do, right?”

Silence erupted between them after a unison of ‘oohs’, with only the soft exchange of voices heard from Dawn’s table, followed by the soft laughs coming from Jisoo. Surprisingly, the very first person to break the silence barrier was Nayeon. She began her query by clearing her throat.

“Since I’m into this anyway, can I ask you a question as well?”

“Uhh… sure, go ahead.”

“Are you currently looking for someone or even eyeing a person right now?”

“Ehh… not really…”

“Is that true…?” Shinwon interfered. “Even though you never really developed legitimate feelings for Soyeon, you never thought of liking anyone else? Come on, North Line has a lot of pretty girls, I’m sure at least you’ve met someone that caught your eye.”

“That’s not the case. I’m… I guess I was just too busy enjoying life with you guys.”

“Why don’t you try looking for people if that’s the case?” Yeri asked.

“As much as having someone is really nice, I’m… I’m not into it. Not now, at least. I just want to focus on myself, clear things first. I’ll have to stand by what I told Soyeon; otherwise I just broke us up on the premise of a lie.”

“You’ll never really know that, Jae-in… I’m pretty sure at the time you’re going to meet your ‘one’; you’ll eat up every single word and promise you wrote in the air. Feelings do affect that much and it’s crazy when you think about it.”

“Well, if that does happen, then at least there’s one less sad person in the world. Cheers to that.”

It may have been a weird action to offer a toast with bubble teas, yet it was the one thing that Jae-in could think off to bring himself out of the situation. The conversation had reached a point that it was starting to be uncomfortable to everything that he was hearing. That seemed to be the safest, most polite way of getting out of the conversation and he merely grabbed it the first chance he saw. It worked out perfectly in the end.

---

I do not exactly know what helped ease the transition there, but I trust that maybe Hongseok caught up with the spell and immediately understood what was going on. If I did not know better, maybe he got flashbacks from what happened to Sizzlers that he got careful in his words; which I do appreciate. It was not the intention, but I’m glad that it worked out in the end.

We stayed on the café for about an hour or so, shifting the topic from my personal love life to other things that Shinwon could bring into the table. Things slowly started to fade away into the distance as Hongseok began to be the centre of the conversation. Time has passed and we didn’t even notice Dawn and Jisoo’s request to join tables into one huge, conversation for the new comers. Thankfully, the atmosphere started to be a bit friendly to me that I was able to join into the conversation further, but not with the occasional teasing coming from Nayeon. Even Jisoo seem to support on whatever her friend was doing.

But like all dates, at some point it had to end.

Among all of the members that joined the little get-together, it was me who ended up joining Dawn as we walked with Jisoo and Nayeon. Shinwon and Yeri seemed to have another date of their own, while Hongseok insisted of heading off home earlier because of prior commitments. The skies have begun to darken, with the soft patches of purple appearing on the once-blue sky, signalling the entrance of twilight onto the impending evening.

Dawn, Nayeon, Jisoo and I were all walking side-by-side, crossing the pedestrian lane towards the busy street where we would eventually part ways. Jisoo and Nayeon already agreed to head on off to Metro Station, on what I would imagine to talk about Dawn and what follows next. Hyojong, on the other hand, asked me to come walking down with him perhaps thinking of the same exact thing for Jisoo.

“So… I guess this is where we finally split paths,” I heard Jisoo say as she and Nayeon turned in place to face us. “We had fun. It was nice to meet all of you, and your friends are really fun to be with as well.”

“You forgot that they’re good looking as well,” added Nayeon, followed by an awkward eye-contact towards me.

I really don’t know what else to do so I just smiled.

“I’m happy that you had that impression. I had fun, so… it’s good-bye for now?” Dawn asked with a wide smile. Jisoo replied by nodding and eventually giving the two guys short bows. Nayeon immediately followed her gesture.

“Well, please take care heading home. I’ll see you around, and maybe out on another one like this… I hope that this won’t be the last, Hyojong-ah.”

“I’ll see you around school, Jisoo, Nayeon… thank you.”

“I have a reason to thank you too, so we’re even,” she replied.

I smiled and bowed, copying what Dawn had done to maintain consistency as well as courtesy. We gave our farewell waves to them both and proceeded to head down the long road. However, before we could even reach a good amount of distance, I heard Nayeon say my name.

“Good bye, Jae-in…!”

I turned my head towards her, about in perfect time to see her run a finger behind her ear and then proceeding to give me a teasing smile. I could only do so much but nod and smile as I resumed walking beside Dawn on a rather awkward and unexpected situation, probably made worse with a teasing chuckle from my friend.

“Would you look at that; Nayeon seemed to be interested in you, you know.”

“I think otherwise, man. I feel like she’s just teasing me, so I never made it a big deal even though she’s like that throughout the date.”

Dawn chuckled, which I really did expect to come from him.

“She’s always like that. I don’t even know if she’s sure half the time.”

“Yeah, but enough about me; congratulations, man; you really pulled this off and managed to bring her out on a date. Next time, it would just be the two of you and that’s going to be the start.”

“Man yeah I’m really looking forward for what’s ahead of me. I won’t waste everyone’s effort and I’ll truly pursue her.”

“I’ll just be supporting you. I’m sorry that I got really busy last week; I didn’t even know that you already finished the overhaul and managed to get a good impression. Shinwon told me about everything. It seemed that you never stopped working even after we had that convo. I’m proud of your achievements Dawnie boy.”

“Things got a bit fast, but at least it all went well. All I have to do now was to not fuck this up.”

“Yeah sure… like that’s going to happen…”

“Of course, I do hope that things like this would not only happen to me. I want all of you to be happy as well, especially you, Jae-in. I know that you just broke up with Soyeon, but I’m positive that you’re going to get your girl soon. On that note, why don’t you try my method out?”

I grinned.

“Ah, I know that it might be really effective but I’m not interested in looking for people just yet; not until Soyeon’s still fresh inside my memory. It would be a while ‘til I get comfortable going out with someone.”

“I guess I can respect that, man… I guess you really did not like her, huh?”

“Well, among a lot of things, yeah… it is what it is. Can’t force myself unto someone I’m not entirely into, right?”

Dawn and I paused for a moment as we continued walking down the path. The skies have now completely darkened as stars finally shone in the distance. In turn, the first batches of street lights as well as establishment illuminations were a discrete sign that evening was fast approaching.

“Have you… Have you told Soyeon of the real reason why you broke up with her, though?” I heard Dawn ask after we passed by a well-occupied cake shop.

“I did. I told her of everything. I even got slapped for it, remember?”

“Did you tell her, like EVERYTHING?”

“Hmmm…? What are you going at?”

“Did you tell Soyeon that you broke up with her because you already have a girlfriend?”

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Next Chapter: The Ideal Girlfriend

#kpop series #kpop story #nayeon #blackpink jisoo #twice #blackpink #pentagon

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