#Richter better get his long hair too!!

[hypaalicious]

Why I think Nocturne is way better than the OG Castlevania series

Sorry, when I try to shut up about this show I be like

so here’s my unsolicited, highly biased word vomit that will contain spoilers at the end (but those will be under a cut) so read at your own risk! Okay, leggo

It’s actually diverse.

One thing about high fantasy is that it’s almost always Eurocentric. Even if it’s not set in Europe, the characters are gonna inexplicably have British accents because we associate that with high fantasy. We’re gonna have European style “old” clothing choices. And if everyone isn’t white, they might as well be because they’ll only throw in a couple ambiguously brown side characters and call it a day. Or if they make a main character a POC then best believe everyone around them will be white.

Nocturne, tho? Oh, you can tell it’s made with more than just a sprinkle of representation. They didn’t just make Olrox indigenous, they tied his Aztec lineage in beautifully. Annette was a slave but it’s not flattening her character because of it. Drolta came to slay but even she has her authentic background. Which leads me to my next point!

The Black characters especially are done tastefully.

Like… don’t get me wrong. I love Isaac. He was the only reason I stayed tuned into Castlevania past season 1, LMAO! But his backstory felt like straight trauma porn cooked up by a non-Black person who wanted an excuse to see a Black man whipped for character development.

Zodwa Nyoni wrote some episodes for Nocturne and she put her FOOT in it. When it came to addressing Annette’s time as a slave, her connection to the Orisha through her bloodline… I was gobsmacked at how accurate everything was and now I know why LOL! Like, for me, it’s always gonna be hard to see slavery in fiction but I can’t say shit bad about how it was tied into everything in this show. Annette’s ancestors play such a huge part in her growth and it just warmed my heart to see a Black girl whoop some colonizer ass without it feeling hamfisted. 🥹

The token relationship is the cishet one, everyone else is gay asf

I love that trope flipped on it’s head, ngl LMAO! I, by default, HC everyone as bi anyway but MAN was it nice to see Olrox and Mizrak speedrun enemies to lovers and a hint of Drolta’s devotion/gayness to Erzsebet.

I know the majority of my fictional character thirsting leans male but don’t get it twisted; I jump for JOY for gay shit in media 😂 The only reason I don’t thirst as hard for female characters is because I prefer my men fictional but my women real.

That being said, this series sent me into bi panic and I’d like to be manhandled in a room by Drolta and Olrox.

Nocturne’s first season plays out neater than the OG’s first season.

Like… okay. My main beef with the OG series was that after they defeated Dracula, the rest of the show felt like a meandering fanfic. Sure, there were a few badass moments, but the energy kinda faltered for me and I was bored with a lot of it. I hope they don’t do the same with Nocturne; they left off at a nice cliffhanger which builds anticipation for the next season and… idk it feels more cohesive already? They coulda speedran kicking Erzsebet’s face in like the OG trio did to Dracula but I’m so glad they left us a lil something to look forward to.

Alucard’s glow up >>>>>

I’m chronically online but I’m so glad I went into this series blind because the way I GASPEDT when he showed up at the end

Like damn for the past fifty-leven years he was in that castle by himself going “do I wanna talk to Sypha and Trevor plushies again or do I wanna make myself even more of a bad bitch?” Then he chose the latter, went to the salon, got his hair bleached platinum along with some sew in extensions for volume, beat his face with Fenty, and said “sorry Drolta but there can be only one vampire baddie on this earth and hunny I’m TAKIN IT”

He looks more like his video game design this way too, which I love! I hate that he took out Cuntress McSlay tho 😔 Drolta I will always love you!!

Mmkay. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to start a cult to Olrox real quick. Erzsebet ain’t the only god walking the earth and I feel he just needs good marketing!

#I don’t know what to do until season 2 😩 #there’s just so much I want to see but I have to WAIT #Annette is badass now but I know her character development bout to go CRAZY #her and Richter gone have biracial babies just watch!! #wonder what her ancestors gone think about her being with a colonizer tho 👀 #ah well Richter will treat her right I know it #oohhh I bet her locs will be down her back by the end of this series #Richter better get his long hair too!! #castlevania nocturne

[twiixr4kidz]

Glad that you active again! Can I request 7 evil exes with touch-starved reader?

yeah ofc!! apologies if my formatting is off, im writing this on my phone xD

matthew patel

matthew is one very touch-starved man

whenever you're together, you're immediately in each other's arms

like he genuinely cannot take his hands off of you

not that you're complaining

you'll go from touch-starved to touch-full in no time

his love language is touch for sure so he has no problem being attached to your hip 24/7

AND he gives like, the best hugs ever

Lucas Lee

he's very used to being touched but not in a traditional sense

he gets touched a lot during movie shootings but it isn't like, genuine, loving, intimate touch

he's a little surprised with how touchy you can be but he's also like, a total whore for your attention, so he eats it up

expect lots of long, warm hugs and forehead kisses out of nowhere

he doesn't realize how meaningful it is to you

Todd Ingram

todd is honestly pretty touch-starved himself

but he's also simultaneously nervous when it comes to physical contact

he's a little silly like that yknow!!

if you like, talk to him directly about it, he'll definitely try to be better about touching you

it'll start off really slow but you'll start to notice his lingering touches and how he holds your hand more often in public

he's such a sweetheart

he just wants you to feel comfortable and happy

Roxie Richter

you're never going to have to worry when it comes to miss roxanne

she's on you ALL THE TIME

her arms are always wrapped around your waist or your neck or your torso

and she has no qualms against kissing you or touching you in public if that's what you need

hell, sometimes she worries she's touching you TOO much

she's not

you eat it up, and she gets so giddy when she realizes how happy you are

Kyle Katayanagi

he doesn't really realize how touch starved you are unless you point it out

he's the kind of guy who doesn't really notice things if that makes sense

the kind of "oh shit i didn't realize babe im so sorry i love u" guy

however, he DOES consider himself a very touchy person

he picks you up A LOT

if the two of you are standing around, he'll run his fingers through your hair and lazily braid it together while you talk

if he's lounging on the couch watching tv, he'll tell you to come over and lay on his chest

it really is the little things that count

Ken Katayanagi

he's shockingly clingy which is really good for someone who's so touch-starved

he's always inviting you to come "chill" with him, which usually consists of him holding you and burying his face into your chest

he can tell if you're having a "i need to be held" kinda day and he jumps on it immediately

he's a little nervy when it comes to PDA but if you ask, what kind of boyfriend would he be to deny??

Gideon Graves

you will absolutely have to tell him how you're feeling

not because he's a dick (well, i mean, sometimes.......) but because he's just a little dumb

but yknow what else he is???

ANNOYING (i mean this affectionately)

you need a hug?? you're getting CRUSHED.

you need him to hold you?? he'll wrap you up in a blanket burrito and swaddle you like a baby.

he's a total ding dong and everything he does is followed with a laugh, but he only does it to make you happy

#matthew patel #matthew patel x reader #lucas lee #lucas lee x reader #todd ingram #todd ingram x reader #roxie richter #roxie richter x reader #kyle katayanagi #kyle katayanagi x reader #ken katayanagi #ken katayanagi x reader #gideon graves #gideon graves x reader #scott pilgrim #spvtw #scott pilgrim vs the world #scott pilgrim takes off #spto

[theres-a-body-here]

I wonder how the survivors would react in a situation where somehow creep!readers mask gets pulled off.

Survivor reactions to Creep!Reader face reveal (Part 1)

Whether intentionally or not, your mask got yanked off during chase

Creep!reader

Instant panic

The mask is part of your charm, your character

You keep it ok for a reason

It's easier to blame your acts on the Creep character when you hide behind a mask. But with it off, you can no longer hide behind a persona. Now (y/n) has to take all the blame. You feel sick to your stomach

You don't want the sheep to see you like this

You instinctively cover your face

Only to wack it with your own whip

Yelps and cries of anguish pursue

You have to reveal your face if you want to get your mask back

Fuck it

You uncover your face and fumble around on the ground to find your mask on the floor

(My glasses...I can't see without my glasses)

You don't even care that the survivor who did this is standing shocked and watching your pathetic display

Claudette Morel

She's almost, if not, more panicked than you are

"SORRYIDIDNTMEANTODOTHATPLEASEDONTBEMADATME"

She almost trips over herself to grab your mask and hand it to you

One of her hands is firmly covering her eyes, not wanting to see your face out of fear (and maybe empathy)

She's shaking

You grab it and quickly put it on

You take deep breaths

That's better

You look at her

She's still covering her eyes, still shaking

Your grip on your whip tightens, then relaxes

You reach out to ruffle her hair

Claudette stiffens but doesn't uncover her eyes

There's a long pause as silence fills the realm

She slowly uncovers her eyes while apologizing

"I really didn't mean to....."

You're already gone

You let her have hatch that trial

Dwight Fairfield

Just as panicked but frozen to the spot

He's thinking of all the terrible, painful, and vile stuff you're gonna do to him. Even if it was an accident

He's trembling as he watches you look for your wolf mask

You break the stiff silence

"You're gonna help me or just stand around like a dumbass?"

You sound really pissed

Dwight squeaks and does as he's told

He finds it and hands it to you

He's not even hiding the fact he's staring at your face

You look.....pretty

"Good Boy," you hum in approval when Dwight gives you your mask

His face erupts into a blush

"I-I....uhhh......okay"

He's waiting for the other shoe to drop

This is the part where you skin him alive for doing that to you, right?

"10 second head start"

Dwight blinks

Huh?

"10....9....8..."

He yelps again and speeds off as he yells back a "Thank you"

You decide to leave him for last. Whether or not he escapes is up to your mood

Haddie Kaur

Very short interaction

She almost just kept running

But she caught a look at your face

She took her time to observe your desperation as you fumbled for your mask

That was the face of a depraved monster

She sneered

Haddie could also feel the absolute evil that emanated from your mask

She could feel the pain it witnessed, the despair, and oddly enough, she felt denial

Haddie didn't stay too long to see what you would do to her since she saw your face

She's long gone by the time you put on your mask

You let out a growl

You can't let her leave until you threaten her

No other sheep can know what you look like

Felix Richter

Stands there awkwardly

He's not sure what to do

On one hand, he feels bad for you

On the other hand, you're a killer

He's conflicted on what to do

Felix also takes a look at your face, his curiosity got the best of him

You look vulnerable

You're not making his internal conflict any better

He settles for a quick tip before continuing to run

"It's on your left, the bush"

He calls out as he runs towards main building

You scoff and grab it

You didn't need his pity or help

Okay maybe you did

You put on your mask and continue chasing him

Felix doesn't fail to notice when you put him on the hook more gently than before

He doesn't comment on it

Masterlist here

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd #killer!reader #creep!reader #dwight fairfield #dwight x reader #claudette morel #claudette x reader #felix richter x reader #felix x reader #haddie kaur #haddie x reader

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

How they Kiss You (NXX Boys)

CW: fluff, maybe a little suggestive here and there

Vyn x fem!reader, Luke x fem!reader, Marius x fem!reader, Artem x fem!reader

Vyn Richter

Subtly dominant, gentle, attentive, Vyn’s kisses bring all three to the table

It so very easy to relax into his kisses, knowing that he’s well aware of what buttons to push, when to push them, and how hard they should be pushed, leaving you breathless in mere moments

Even when you take initiative in your make out sessions, you can never get rid of the feeling that he’s guiding you, nudging you one way or another

And he’s never rough about it, Rough or quick. Good things are made to be savored, he’s said on more than one occasion

These make out sessions only happen in private, however, Vyn is a very private person and he would rather that his eyes be the only one that sees your blissed out face

In public he limits himself to small, gentle pecks

He’ll often push your hair behind your ear, leaving a kiss on your temple, or lay a kiss in the middle of your palm

It’s little things that satisfy his desire for touch and make you feel seen and appreciated

Luke Pearce

Luke’s kisses are enthusiastic. Enthusiastic and a little bit messy, especially at first.

Often times you find that you’re the one initiating them, though he initiates plenty himself

There’s a great deal of give and take between the two of you, with no real power dynamic. It’s fun and when you two part you’re both panting for breath

To your surprise--you figured this would be something Marius would do, not your puppy-in-human form Luke-- Luke likes to let his hands wander as far as you’ll let him. 

Boobs, butt, he likes how soft you are and makes sure you know it. He’s not shameless enough to stick his hands down your pants (unless he’s trying to get some), but his hands definitely wander

Another surprising thing is he doesn’t often give you unsolicited kisses.

I mean, he might give you a peck on the lips here and there, but his thing is constantly holding hands. Sometimes you wonder if your hands even belong to you anymore

Marius! Von! Hagen!

Tease, tease, tease!

Ok, he loves all the kisses. Quick kisses, teasing kisses, deep kisses that make Vincent blush when he walks in on you

Some days, he’ll pepper you with little kisses, or kisses with just a little tongue, until you’re about to burst before pulling you in for one that shorts out your brain

On days where he’s just gotten out of a long meeting with the old guys, he lends to lean towards slower, more intimate kisses. When he gives you these, he’ll thread his fingers into your hair and rest his other hand on your waist, enjoying every aspect of your presence.

And of course, there are kisses that are designed to get things moving in a nsfw direction, teasing you, riling you up, until you’re about ready to tear his clothes off

Unlike Vyn, he has no qualms about public making out. Actually, he seems to enjoy the idea that you two might get caught. Only, you have. Poor Vincent has needed a bar of soap for his eyes a time or two (Marius has a case of the wandering hands)

Artem Wing

He and Vyn are a lot alike in the kissing department. Both of them are gentle, attentive, always tuned in to your reactions

Artem isn’t as dominant however and his kisses feel more intimate, maybe because he’s more open than Vyn

Sometimes you take control, setting pace and depth, but often times you’re just happy to let him take care of you. He knows you almost better than you do, and he uses the knowledge to great effect

Most of the time, kisses with Artem are slow and intimate, but there are times when Artem gets a little rougher, giving into his addiction to your little sounds and the way you lean into him. It never fails to leave you breathless and dazed

Usually any kind of kissing is left for when there aren’t any eyes too see you

When you’re in private he might kiss the top of your head or your forehead, but that’s about it. When it comes to pda he prefers holding your hand or wrapping an arm around your shoulder rather than giving kisses. It makes those kisses far more special because of their rarity

#Honestly right now (As of queueing this) I'd take kisses from artem and Vyn #Granted that's not something that changes very often #luke pearce #xia yan #luke hcs #xia yan hcs #Vyn #Vyn Richter #Mo yi #Vyn hcs #Mo yi hcs #Marius #marius von hagen #lu jinghe #lu jinghe hcs #Artem #artem wing #zuo ran #artem hcs #zuo ran hcs #tears of themis #tot #tears of themis hcs #head canons #tot hcs #Luke x reader #artem x reader #vyn x reader #marius x reader #luke x fem!reader

[artmotherhoodandmadness]

Losing my 5 precious darling embryos, don;t tell me that they are not children, the embryo is the seed from which the might Oak Tree thus grows, suck on that you ignorant callous cunts

The unimaginable pain of losing 5 embryos and don’t tell me they are not children they are the seeds from which all life grows

It’s too painful

I cannot do this

Fuck off I say

Oh the pain I feel when I see little girls

Well I have a sperm donor now Nathan, tall, buff, slim, big long slender dick, beautiful hands, plays bass, teaches French blue grey eyes, cool hair, good family

Am I in love, don’t care he came in me an hour ago

I am 49 well miracles do happen, not to me, but maybe

Keep trying until I drop down dead hey

I can’t take it

The pain

The loss

The sheer humiliation

It’s excruciating

I don’t want to live anymore

I want my girls

Well I got my donor egg, she is Polish, intelligent as fuck, with a nice ass and legs and blond hair and blue eyes and a degree in Bio Chemistry at Oxford

Uber menschen in the making

I will have my Cyan Tree

Scarlet River

Storm Cloud

Hurricane

Golden Tsunami Thread

Purple paradise glitter heaven

Yes my little ones are in heaven with their grand father Rafique

And I will make three babies one Afro, one red head and one blond

And my life will be complete

Sans mes enfants ma vie est rien

Je suis dans le mer sans mes enfants

Ma vie est rien sans leur

Mes mes enfants

Oh my god

The pain pierces me over and over again like a dagger on fire

I cannot take it

Men rape me and break me and ejaculate in me like a fucking rag doll

I am just a hope to be penetrated and abused over and over again

My daddy taught me how to suck cock real good

Donobad

Tomi balo manush

Go fuck yourself you piece of shit cunt

And my husband is a narc, predator psychopath

And my kids little cunt runts who should be burnt and tortured

They play guitar and piano and speak mandarin and do so many extra curricula activities

If I meet another doting dad I am gonna fuckng puck my guts out

69 men and risking

Sexually abused from the age of 1-3

66 albums

16 films

100 exhibitions

11 books

Suck on that

Got into Oxford to study History at Somerville College or St? Hilda’s

Can’t remember

Does it even fucking matter

Tracey Emin can’t draw for shit

Nor Damien Hirst

I am better than everyone Francis Bacon, Vincent, Rothko, Schiele, Kandisky

De Kooning, Richter, Schiel, Klimt

Nietszche what the fuck did he know he never had kids

Kate Moss is a travesty

Worst fucking model

Kendal Jenner insipid

Justin Bieber pathetic

Billy whinging miserable cow

Taylor Swift knows nothing about life

Kate Moss’s sprog is ugly and short as fuck

Harry Styles is a fucking prick

I am better than all of you

I am gonna win the Nobel Peace Prize

Gonna be a global leader

I believe that everyone should get 30 grand from birth

Have their own house and garden

Preferably built themselves

Lego towns

No plastic

Recycling

Electric cars

Not teslas

Elon Musk is another psychopath power crazed mania

Who can’t keep his dick in his pants like Mick fucking Jagger

His kids are losers

Eddie Redmayne can’t act for fuck and married a bitch

Kate Middleton just is good at breeding and wearing clothes and has no hips and never eats

And her kids are brats

Harry is a prick

Megan is a bitch

Piers Morgan is a moon faced cunt

Alistair Campbell wrote the fake dossier and is a murderer

He should be curt alive playing his wretched bag pipes

Shada Haramsada

Guido is an Italian prick

Robin is a psychopathic narc

Yinka is a shit artist USP up your fucking arse

Kusama sold out

Can’t paint for shit

Her mirrored rooms flawed

I am going to Bangladesh, and Singapore

Erecting my neon mental health signs

Mental Health for All

Benign Anarchists

Trauma Triggers

Naked Trauma Triggers

Tommy

Nathan

Nicolas Rodolphe Roberts Colemonts

Robin

Adam

David

Rowan

Kash

Patrick my first love, he was deaf, we listened to Fluffy Little Clouds and made love and got high and felt the beat through the speakers

I was happy then

I was happiest when I was a virgin

Didn’t wash

Wore clothes that were too big for me

Wanted to be clever

Was sexually abused in the library when studying Hamlet and preparing for Oxford

Art school was shit

Has to walk past St Martins every day it was hell

Will study at the Royal academy – Drawing, will make Tracey stick her pencil up her arse

If Saatchi and Saatchi come sniffing they can go fuck themselves

Margaret Thatcher eat my turds for breakfast with Kellogg corn flakes

I want my babies

I will have my daughters

They will have the life I never had

And I will protect them

And no one is goin got mess with them

No one is going to fuck with my precious cargo

This is a war

This is a revolution

Whose side are you on?

Are you are a benign anarchist

Join the fucking party now

Have a wank and die

Suck on that

You giant sloppy cunt face poisson magasin

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

Guffaw guffaw

Swipe

Chouette

C’est finis

Bonne nuit

Mais non

Mai oui

En faite

Donc

Donc

Donc

Ding dong

Putki

Picana coup gorom

Peshup

Putki

Nu Nu

The END

#embryos

[fruit-of-infidelity]

The heels of his boots clicked and clacked through the halls of his home, before finally arriving at his destination. His usual expression moved from indifferent, to something more tranquil and at ease. Although anyone could clearly tell that there was something on his mind.

A gloved hand rose, in order to give the door a few soft knocks, before the man eventually opened it to step inside. His strides were smooth and quiet, as he gave a fond look to the very person he was wanting to see.

“Good Evening to you. I trust you’ve been taking care of yourself?”

Richter’s voice was quiet, as he approached her. The usual rasp and edge was ever present, although it wasn’t as… Strained?

With quiet and smooth steps, he approached her, before squatting down in front of her. It was a rare moment for him, to be kneeling in front of another like this; especially when usually tired eyes looked up at her as if she was the only person in the world that mattered. He was silent for a few moments, doing nothing but observing her before his eyes fell closed in content.

“Happy Birthday, Ava. I can give you the world, if I so choose. Although, I feel as if it would be better for me to be your present.”

Taking one of her hands in his, he brought her hand to his cheek, as he instinctively leaned into such a touch.

“I am at your disposal.”

; [ HELLO HELLO HELLO HAVE A VERY SAPPY AND SOFT RICHTER FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY!! I had like a million presents lined up that he could’ve given you but then was like. “what if he just. give you HIM for your birthday” so. yeah. HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY AVAAAAAA. YOU DESERVE THE WORLD AND MORE 😤😤 AND YOU BETTER HAVE THE BEST DAY EVER. (also whenever i get access to my laptop again i’ll give you a PROPER birthday present 😤 but for now have richter 🫂🫂)

// HELLO HELLOOOO WHIN ♥️♥️🫶🫶 IM SOBBING THIS IS SO CUTE, IM 😭😩 please ignore how CLICHE I am, I’m no good with words 😞🫶 YOURE SO SWEET THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺🥺 AND UM!!?! Nyyooo you’ve done enough already, you don’t need to do anything else, you’re too lovely 😩😩🥺

She drew in a soft breath through her lightly parted, faintly quivering, lips. She took to softly stroking his cheek the moment her hand met with his tender touch, and she didn’t hesitate to lower herself to his level onto her own knees, so that he might look down - or at least across - at her again; To place him back on that pedestal she thought was nothing short of befitting the man.

He shouldn’t have to kneel to someone like her…

“Richter,”

She crooned, her own gaze affectionate, longing, upon his face. His handsome face.

“You already have given me the world. You see—“

Her second hand rose to cradle his other cheek, now, fingertips lightly brushing back stray strands of hair so she might see him clearer. To perhaps even see those eyes of his if he should open them again, their gorgeous rich hues of red. This gesture from him was truly tender, and made her heart flutter, then greedily yearn for more.

“—You are my world.”

#richter sakamaki #sakamaki richter #sakamaki-Richter #admin

[retelling-of-ragnarok]

🐕-A memory of teamwork (with Richter or Auren, if that would be OK with you)

MORE MEMORIES

🐕 -> a memory of teamwork

Chatter flew around the table like bees to a hive. Discussions of the newest noble children’s coming of age, compliments and blatant flirting, but most of all… Scheming. Lies and pretty little words spun like threads to a web, and each member was getting more and more tangled, with each passing second. All the while watchful eyes burned into each an every one of them.

Black holes filled their eye sockets, as they sucked in any and every piece of information before them. The hair colour of each guest, each and every detail in their irises, even the dust of particles lining up on their eyelashes. The individual’s eyes trained on them like a hawk, ready to move whenever the time is right.

Idle chatter and obvious manipulation continued to brew between the guests, as the individual noticed the subtle changes within each one. For beings who had no need for subtle breath, the teen supposed even they could a gasp or two. The way their eyes fluttered, and drooped. The way one man in particular seemed to be waiting for something. Someone.

❝ Well now~ It’s great to see Lord Richter at one of my gatherings. An honour, truly. I do hope that you’ll be able to indulge me this evening, who knows the wonders of knowledge that head of yours holds—❞

The man, Richter, was an expert at hiding his emotions, he has to be with his kind of position. Although his partner had no issue in reading his movements. They’ve worked together far too long for that… The dull eyes, reflecting only minimal light, the minuscule twitches of his thumb. Not even someone like him could hide such base reactions. He was annoyed.

The white haired boy didn’t get to hear his reply as , they were called back into the kitchen. Their plan could finally be put into fruition, with these movements. Low ponytail swishing behind them like a fox tail, any blemishes of black completely washed out; like a blank canvas, all over again. Bandages dawned their forehead, as their black waistcoat trailed behind them. Eyes smoothly scanned the surrounding area as they walked, taking in every nook and cranny. Every tile on the ground, and every grain of mineral used to the make the walls. Their observations were cut short, as a tray of drinks was placed in front of them. The host’s servants glared at them without abandon, almost as if they were an eyesore, as they looked on with no expression.

❝ We couldn’t allow an outsider to prepare refreshments. Though since you are here, you might as well make yourself useful. ❞

And make themselves useful is exactly what they did. It almost looked like trained excellence. With one foot in front of the other in a mesmerising rhythm— Not like anyone else would have noticed. Not until the, oddly colourful, drink was placed in front of the one hosting this entire get together. A man who had bitten off more than he could chew, learned a bit too much about topics he wasn’t permitted to. Gwen could only look on in what looked like pity, as did Richter. The poor man, if only he had minded his business. And he dared to call all of these people here, to share in his findings. One of those guests being the King’s brother, no less. How bold~

❝ A refreshment, a good luck to your future endeavours.❞

───※ ·❆· ※───

❝ Mind sharing how you pulled it off? ❞

As the voice hit their ears, the teen had already pulled off the black tailcoat they were wearing— leaving only a dark green vest, with a white dress shirt underneath. Clothes really do make the man, don’t they? Anyone could have put on this uniform, and fooled the lot of them.

Holding the coat over their shoulder in their left hand, their head remained forward. A clueless look on their face, as if they didn’t stage a flawless death. Or better yet, use someone else’s suffering to pull this off.

❝ I’m not really sure what you mean. I didn’t do anything. ❞

❝ Don’t be coy with me. There was no sign of any tampering, nor did you slip anything in last minute. All I’m asking is that you indulge me in your plans. ❞

An amused breath exited through their nose, as their head raised to look at the sky. The actual set-up wasn’t really too difficult. Getting Richter into the event, arranging all of those particular guests. It wasn’t a strain whatsoever. The real work that was done was probing that poor servant woman. With such hatred for the man she served, yet such crippling fear. It wasn’t an easy task to work around, but at least it saved them from dirtying their own hands.

❝ I mean it when I said that I had no part in it. All I did was deliver the man’s drink, and nothing more. Though I suppose I should give you some credit as well; perhaps a royal’s status does have some real use, as I wouldn’t have been able to get that close to him if not for you— Although watching a grow man kiss another person’s feet was quite distressing. ❞

This aroused Richter’s own amused noise— A hum, swift and quiet. Though not unheard to the teen, as they continued their walk home. Truthfully they could have taken a carriage back, as they had coming to their destination, though the pair was simply in the mood for a walk. And, in rare moments like these, one could almost forget the way they constantly butted heads.

❝ Hey… You have money on you, do you not? Would you be so kind as to buy a drink for me? ❞

❝Absolutely not. ❞

Well. You could almost forget.

❆ GOD THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO— went with Richter 😞✋ i’ll take any chance to write these two bastards together. and because after jobs like these there’s a period of time where they DONT butt heads. ❆

#.scenario #ask.stuff #ask game reply #anonymous #gwen exicor #richter sakamaki #sakamaki richter

[ragnvdnir]

*jamming to look what you made me do* 💃🏻

It has been awhile! How are you? What's new? Hope you've been well!

Also tell me lil bit about Tears of Themis

-☘

*sings-a-long with you* 🎤🎤🎤

nothing new, just the usual😍😍 except that i am excited for 2.8 to come already since kazuhaaa💍💍💍

you just trapped yourself anon, im telling you /j

BUT ANYWAYY😍😍 since u asked abt these dear men who has been occupying me for the past few days *looks intensely at artem* i am delighted to tell you abt them though its just me venting my love and opinions lmao

FIRST OF ALL WE GOT THE PUPPY OF THE GROUP who can break your bones btw MY BB BOI LUKEEE PEARCE😍⁉️ ppl will hate me for this but when i first got into tot, he's my least fav bc i thought he's gonna be boring since he's the usual childhood friend and the childhood friend is my least favorite in every otome game👉👈 BUT I WAS WRONG VERY VERY WRONG I AM SOREY LUKE STANS I ALREADY REPENTED🤧🤧 luke is actually the one i ship with the mc since their chemistry is just top tier🤨🤨⁉️⁉️ and friends to lover btw😍😍 his second birthday card actually changed my life. i became his no. 1 fan. my life is now better. i bow down to him and wish for his lifespan to increase /hj NAURR THAT CARD IS JUST SOOO AND MC IS SO SEXY THERE⁉️⁉️ both of them are sexy🙄⁉️ but anyway, i luv this cutie sm and he's so sweet🤧🤧 9/10, minus 0.5 bc he only have 3 years left /j

THEN MARIUS VON HAGEN🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ ugh this kid🙄 (affectionate btw) tbh i didn't like him that much at first too but since i always get his card i somehow had a marius phase when i started🤨⁉️ i have a love-hate relationship with him /j HES SUCH A TEASE OML I SOMETIMES JUST WANT TO SHUT HIS MOUTH😭😭 and he's younger than us so i refuse to be shy bc of a kid who's 3 years younger than mc🤨(affectionate again) nah but i wont forget when strawberry shortcake anon told me that i act like him🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ that's an insult to me to be told that i act like that kid QOKAJSKSJS JK I WILL STOP THE MARIUS SLANDER NOW BEFORE THE SIMPS COME FOR MY NECK😰😰 i remember this one time he brought mc a flat shoes(?) bc he noticed that she's been wearing her heels all day and her feet is already hurting, tho she never said anything but he still noticed😔😔 i might make fun of this dude but he's really sweet🙁🙁. 8/10, minus one since i can't with his teases and another minus one since he marius von hagen /j IM SORRY I JUST LOVE MAKING FUN OF HIM😭😭 probably bc im older than him🤨

OFCOURSE I WON'T FORGET ABT VYN RICHTER THE LOML (before?) okay alot of ppl said that he's a red flag bc he's a manipulator but like do i look like i care abt that?? /hj. he's the first one who caught my eye among the four btw😍😍 idk why but there's something abt white/gray haired characters that always got me like ??? and one of the things that made me attracted to him more is bc (spoiler ahead?) he's somewhat a noble/aristocrat since his father is basically a duke from the kingdom of svart😍😍 IDK WHY AGAIN but im really into royalty😩😩 like idk why i just love royalty since for one i want to experience a lavish and elegant lifestyle, living in a castle, dancing in the ballroom (this is the effect of reading too much historical manhwa i swear) BUT ANYWAY i think he's the most hated ml among the four since they say he's a red flag but he's really sweet and caring though (for me atleast okay?) im really attached to him bc i think i need someone like him. he's a psychologist/psychiatrist 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ (in conclusion i need him bc of free therapy) OWJKSJS LMAOO BUT ANYWAY i feel like he can and will read me well and that's what i need. so if you please mr. vilhem richard albert de haspran🧎‍♀️💍 (HIS REAL NAME IS SUCH A *CHEF'S KISS*) there's more for me to talk abt him but i will stop here since its already long😰😰. 11/10, a literal perfection but has a crack on some sides (the said red flag by ppl🙄)

AND PLEASE WELCOME THE ONE AND ONLY ARTEM WING THE MAN IN EVERY MAN'S PRAYER🙏🙏🙏 oml if vyn is someone i need then artem is the one i need and WANT (im sorry vyn, artem just hits different these days) he is literally a malewife and house husband. HE CAN COOK OML QOWJEKEK😭😭😭 ik that's something i shouldn't praise a man for bur come on, its artem wing we're talking abt, the hopeless romantic man i ever dreamed of😫💘 OKAYY SOO i only realize that he's my ideal man these past few days🙁🙁 like ik he's a malewife but im focused on vyn🌝🌝 NAURR BC I DON'T WANT A MAN ANYMORE IF ITS NOT HIM👹👹 /hj (love you diluc <3) gosh idk what to say anymore i just adore and love this man😩😩 the things that i would do to have someone like OR HIM 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ HES SO SO CARING AND SWEET AND LOVABLE AND CUTE AND ATTRACTIVE AND ALL😩😩 lawddd just one artem wing please 🙏🙏🙏. zhongli's age/10, malewife.

THATS ALLL :DDD its so longggg😭😭 but its your fault since you started it 🤨🤨 /j

#—letters 💌 #talks with: ☘︎ anon #im sorry vyn i have to leave you for awhile and be with artem #please come take me back #or dont ehe i dont mind~

[ohthemis]

hey can you write a tot headcanons of them as dads ! and if you can, can you include their reactions to their child telling them they have a s/o :)

tot boys when their kid tells them they have a s/o

characters: all

a/n: reader is the spouse and not the child

ARTEM WING

very accommodating to the kid and the boyfriend. trusts his kid’s judgement, and he’ll always be there for advice and support!! doesn’t freak out too much, but he is pretty concerned for the first few weeks.

he’ll go to you to ask if you’re okay with it and if he should intervene. of course you end up letting artem know he’s allowed to be worried because it’s completely normal and you realize may have underestimated how worried he actually is

wants to give the kids the talk but he needs your help because he ends up using all off the way too complicated terms and no one knows what he’s saying. so you’re there as the dad translator for your kids <3

after every date, he makes sure they’re all fine and asks about the dates. he throws in some input here and there but it’s usually fine since all artem really wants to keep his kids happy and safe. again, very nice to the boyfriend, sometimes offers to drive the guy home if he doesn’t already have his own ride

“are you sure you’re alright? i could drive you two.”

“noooo dadddd...”

“no, it’s alright, mr. wing. i offered to drive her to the park.”

“alright, then. be safe and don’t be back too late.”

“bye dad!”

“thank you, sir!”

MARIUS VON HAGEN

marius is absolutely appalled when he hears. all the sirens in his head starts going off and he might just scream. (he knows better, you’d probably get mad at him)

he’s really torn because he respects his kid’s privacy and space but also he really, really wants to spy on the date to make sure the guy doesn’t get too touchy. always gives the guy the side-eye. also, he likes to suddenly talk about all his paintings and pax accomplishments to intimidate the guy and lowkey scare him off. 

whenever the guy comes over, marius has his meter long ruler on the stand by to interject just in case he thinks the guy is getting too touchy with your kid. also the type to call out “LEAVE THE DOOR OPEN” when the door even moves an inch

but if the guy is nice and decent, he might back off a really tiny bit. the meter ruler is always there, though. sometimes keeps it on his bedside just in case. (you get upset about it because you trip over it sometimes in the middle of the night while trying to go to the bathroom)

“i thought i was the only guy you’d ever need!”

“dadddd!”

“when you were 2, you even cried because i was already married to your mom!”

“dad, you’re so embarrassing!”

“mc, back me up here! they can’t get a boyfriend! anyone but my daughter!”

LUKE PEARCE

he’d like to say he was fine, but in reality he was crumbling inside. it didn’t have anything to do with the guy himself, but the sudden realization that his little baby is growing up.

he, of course, gives her the talk. everything from dating to getting intimate. although he’d really rather they didn’t, that is his little baby kid :(

that night when the two of you go to bed, he’s cuddling into you just mumbling and moping. and you have to comfort him otherwise he’ll start full-on sobbing

he does that thing where he tells his kid to not leave him when he gets old.

“you’re growing up so quickly... when you’re older, don’t leave me and your mom alone, okay?”

“dad, i’m dating someone, not moving out.”

“but you’re going to leave us!”

“dad, i’m not leaving you, i just got a boyfriend!”

“luke, leave your kid alone!”

VYN RICHTER

the hardest dad to deal with lmaoo. vyn may not seem like it but he’s protective over his children. if he has anything to do about it, not even a single piece of hair on his kids’ will be hurt.

if vyn finds out his kid was ever hurt, he’s beyond furious but he makes sure that his kids are always his priority. the kids will always come to vyn for comfort and he makes sure they feel better. vyn is a great dad ok

his kid’s boyfriend definitely has to put in that real effort to prove himself worthy of vyn’s respect. great manners, great academics, great health, vyn makes sure his kids will get nothing short of the love he knows they deserve.

whenever your kid gets home from a date, he’s sitting there preparing some light snacks and tea with you sitting there. it turns into a mini interview session, with you interjecting sometimes.

“so, where did you guys go?”

“just the movies, dad.”

“did you have dinner at all?”

“before the movie, dad.”

“hm, this kid is good.”

#tot #tot x reader #artem x reader #artem wing #tears of themis artem #zuo ran #zuo ran x reader #marius x reader #marius von hagen #tears of themis marius #lu jinghe #lu jinghe x reader #Luke Pearce #luke x reader #tears of themis luke #luke pearce x reader #xia yan #xia yan x reader #vyn richter #tears of themis vyn #vyn x reader #mo yi #mo yi x reader

[archonette]

✻ playlist ; vyn gives you a check-up

✻ pairing ; vyn richter × gn!reader

✻ content ; sick!reader, fluff, cute as fuuuck

✻ author's note ; none— enjoy the imagine! <3

"Are you alright, [y/n]...?" Artem, the senior attorney at the place you were working at, asked you as he saw you resting your head on your arms on your desktop.

You gave your best shot at looking up, but to no avail. "No..." You manged to blurt out to answer the man in front of you.

"You look like you need to rest, [y/n]," Rosa intervened as she scooted closer to you, rubbing your back. "Leave your desk as it is. I'll continue your work for you, okay?" With a quick glance at her green eyes and back to your computer, you admit that you still had a lot of work to be done and you felt ashamed about how many it was.

"No, I'll be okay," It wasn't long until your mouth pulled out a cough. "I guess not..."

"I'll call vyn to pick you up and have your health checked by him." Artem grabbed his phone from his pocket and started to dial someone before walking out of the room and into his office.

You groaned. You didn't want to feel embarrassed as you felt like you were being treated like a kid; not in a bad way, of course. Kiki and Celestine were giving you reassuring smiles and you smiled back at them.

You looked at the clock. 6:19pm. The sunset was slowly going down and turning the once-orange sky into a vague color mixture of purple and dark blue.

You told everyone at the firm you were going home. With a final look at the office, you started walking towards the exit hallway wherein you were greeted by Vyn.

"Vyn!" You smiled. "You were called by Artem, right...?"

"Yes," He answered. "That is correct." You examined his face— his striking yellow eyes were relaxed, but at the same time were telling you that he's concerned. The subtle softness of his face being perfectly framed by his golden glasses made your heart skip a beat and the way his hair contradicts with the hue of his eyes made eye contact difficult for you.

"It's fine," You lied, even though your head was throbbing. You couldn't bear to go any further without closing your eyes in an attempt to ease your pain. "I-I'm fine." The cold air given off by the air conditioner made you shiver a bit.

"Is that so?" He must have sensed that you were shaking and your hands were cold, so he covered you with his white coat. "You are lying. How about I take you to my clinic?"

"I just want to go home," You felt like that was a bit rude of you to answer that, considering that he was a few years older than you, so you took back what you said: "I'm sorry."

"It is fine," He smiled. "I will drive you to your apartment, then."

You two walked towards his car outside the firm. You held your droopy head with your hands as he started the engine, causing you to groan.

The ride was silent, yet it wasn't uncomfortable for you. You actually liked how thoughtful he is for not talking to you, since he probably knew that it was a chore for you to answer back to someone.

"He knows me too well," You thought. "Or maybe... He's just good at reading people, that's all."

"Here we are," He smiled whilst pulling the brakes of his car. A few seconds in and you were still holding your head, too weak to say anything. Before you could move a muscle, a warm hand was placed on your back, rubbing it to make you feel better.

You looked at the man beside you. "You will be okay," Smiling, he gave you a reassuring gaze. "We will get out of here whenever you're ready."

His patience never seems to let you down. He could look after twenty toddlers screaming and fighting and he still wouldn't be angry at them. You though to yourself that even though he may be a bit intimidating for some people, he could be as gentle as anyone can be.

"I'm okay, let's go." You smiled and you both got out of the car at the same time.

Locking the doors, you both entered the apartment without saying a word. The gentle breeze of the warm afternoon shifting to a cool evening made you smile as he placed a hand on your waist to keep your weak body from falling or anything in similar.

You sat on the couch as Vyn locked the doors behind him. "So.. How do you normally start your check ups?" You asked him to try to open a conversation.

"I usually greet them then I state how I will give them a check up," He said. You gripped the white coat that's around your body. "For you, I will just be quick."

You hummed in response.

"Excuse me." He whispered as he slowly removed the coat away from your body. You then felt a cool metal pressed against your heart after he slowly moved your shirt out of the way.

This was somewhat therapeutic for you, at least, that's what you thought. As the cold metal hit your chest, Vyn's warm breathing was on your skin as well and that made you look away, face flushed.

"Please, turn around. I will monitor your lungs," He gently ordered, and you obeyed. He slowly slid his hands up your back and the same, cold metal smoothly ran across your back, stopping at random. "Done."

You turned back around, facing him again. Vyn placed his stethoscope away and said, "Finally, I'll give you a quick inspection, as well as I.. feel if there are any complications..."

The both of you stopped. You knew that it was part of a thorough check-up and you weren't against that.

"...Would that be alright?" His calming voice interrupted your thoughts. He must've thought that because you stopped, you weren't letting him but in reality you were actually feeling like your heart was about to burst from the butterflies in your stomach.

"Y-yes.." You stuttered. Vyn gave you a light chuckle and said that there was nothing to be embarrassed about.

That embarrassment of your quockly turned into even more butterflies in your stomach as he held your neck in the gentlest way possible, checking if there are anything bad to be concerned about. At the same time, he was examining your face.

He did these for about a few minutes and as he was done, you were kind of bummed about it. You laid your body down on the leather couch, pulling a blanket over you.

You noticed the pink streak across his face as he moved closer to you.

"I can stay here for the night," He started. "If you want." You two locked eyes for a second and he then sat on the floor, resting his head on his folded arms, looking admiringly at you.

"I'd like that." You smiled, closing your eyes.

Then, you felt a warm kiss on your forehead, letting you know that you were going to be okay. You eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light your apartment had.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making you pull him closer to your face until his soft lips met your warmer ones. He placed a hand on your neck, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.

The whole apartment was quiet, except for the low buzzing of the ceiling fans and you and Vyn's kisses. His other hand trailed on your hair, gently moving his fingers around and you sighed in response.

Pulling back, he left a final kiss on your cheek before saying,

"I am so glad to be able to do this with you."

©archonette 2022

#archonette #mo yi x reader #vyn richter #tears of themis #vyn headcanon #未定事件簿 #莫弈 #vyn richter drabbles #vyn richter tot #tears of themis boys #rosa tears of themis #vyn richter headcanons #vyn tot #vyn drabbles #vyn richter fluff #vyn fluff #vyn richter headcanon #mo yi tot #mo yi x mc #vyn x reader #vyn richter x reader #mo yi headcanon #vyn richter imagine #vyn richter imagines #mo yi imagine #mo yi imagines #vyn x rosa #vyn richter x rosa #mo yi x rosa #tears of themis fanfic

[alstroemeriadissonance]

Rebound (NSFW)

WARNING: NSFW at the end, in case it gets a bit too long and you mistake this for having a fluff ending. This isn't an NSFW-focused work by itself, but...well. Stuff lead there because Vyn.

Vyn x Rosa

Vyn showing a few degrees of unhinge.

Summary: Rosa finally takes up Dr. Richter's offer in tending to her emotional health after her break up with Artem. Luke helps out because some bones may need breaking.

Rosa: Dr. Richter, are you free?

Vyn: For you, always. Tell me what you need.

Rosa: Thanks. I think I'll take you up on your offer for a consultation. I need someone to talk to.

Vyn: Where are you? I will go pick you up.

Rosa: Oh, no. I'm actually nearby if you're still in the research center. Are you still there?

Vyn: Yes. Just go straight to my office. I will keep the door unlocked for you. Do not mind the sign on the door, I will be here waiting for you.

Rosa: Thanks Dr. Richter. This means a lot to me.

Vyn set down his phone back onto the desk.

It would have to be a dire situation for Rosa to finally break and cave into accepting his offer. At very short notice, no less.

He stood up from his desk, and with hands clasped on his back Vyn faced the windows overlooking the verdant open grounds of his mental health research center, typically used for the patients' supervised outdoor walks.

But I will not get ahead of myself. I will hear what she has to say, first.

He pulled on the cord for the venetian blinds, raising them just enough to allow more light to spill into his office.

Vyn didn't want the somber lighting to further agitate Rosa--her state of mind was not apparent anywhere in her text messages, which were innocuous, but given context especially based on his knowledge of how Rosa would rather exhaust her own resources and capabilities before asking for help...

Vyn shook his head. He already said that he should not get ahead of himself, but here he was, already worrying for his rose. His rose. The subconscious usage of the possessive pronoun has him chuckling derisively at himself.

Artem had already claimed the prize that Vyn had so immensely coveted.

It took Vyn more or less a year to get over that fact--but for the sake of his work on Giann's Project NXX he kept quiet and had withdrawn from the race, so to speak--paying his feelings no more mind than he would other flights of fancy.

He heard the door to his office being opened.

Finally.

Vyn's eyes went wide by a tiny fraction.

The Rosa that stepped into his office was--for want of better word--wilted.

While her physical appearance itself was pristine with not a hair out of place and work attire still impeccable, it was her overall posture that took Vyn aback: shoulders slumped, a hand gripping her other arm; lips trembling, having difficulty making eye contact with him...

All out of character for his lovely, vibrant rose. His rose.

"Rosa, I am here," Vyn said, softly yet firmly. "Before anything else...come to me."

He stood there, arms opened wide to receive her.

Vyn must have looked like an angel to her with his white coat and arms outstretched. For when Rosa finally looked at him, her face twisted in agony and she let out a huge sob that she obviously held in for such a long time.

Rosa barreled into Vyn's waiting arms, crying loudly against his chest.

"Ssh. Everything is okay," Vyn murmured as he caressed the back of her head, letting his fingers comb through her auburn hair, the tender gesture repeated over and over in an attempt to soothe the distressed Rosa. "Let it out. There is no one else here but you and me."

His other arm encircled her back, pressing her securely against him--a quiet reminder of his presence in the midst of her overwhelming anguish.

It took everything he had not to kiss her forehead, to kiss away her tears, as he badly wanted to do at that moment.

Vyn bit the inside of his cheek hard, until he could taste iron in his mouth. Now is not the time, damn it.

They stood there in the middle of his office for a while, with Vyn holding Rosa close to him; Rosa crying all over his chest and moistening his tie, shirt, and the upper part of his waistcoat with her tears.

After several minutes of full-blown weeping Rosa managed to regain hold of herself and, with eyes red and puffy with crying she still managed to slip out an embarrassed laugh. "Oh, I--are you like this with your patients, Dr. Richter?" she said, then her eyes widened a bit as soon as she realized what she just said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

Vyn smiled gently. "Of course not. I am like this because you are my closest friend, Rosa, and you did call me that back when masqueraded as travelling psychic and assistant, did you not?"

"Yes, I remember, Dr. Richter." Rosa bit her lip.

She is clearly beside herself. The softness in Vyn's eyes hardened at the idea that something, or most probably someone, had caused his Rosa such distress.

"Come, let us have you sorted out." Vyn gently steered Rosa towards the couch set in the corner he reserved for psychotherapy work. "Take a seat there, get comfortable. I shall prepare some tea for you."

Vyn deliberately took his time with preparing the tea in order to give Rosa enough time to let herself get comfortable. The less mental barriers to deal with, the better.

After ten minutes he came back with a tray bearing a pot of his personal mint-lavender tea blend, expertly balanced on his hand. "For you, my lady," he murmured as he set down a cup on the table in front of her, filling it with purple-tinged steaming liquid.

Rosa took a deep breath, inhaling the floral-infused steam. "Just being here makes me feel better already," she said, smile wistful.

Vyn took his seat off to the side, just by her peripheral vision. "I am glad it is working," he said. "I take pride in my tea blends."

They sat in companionable silence for what seemed like forever.

Vyn understood that Rosa may have difficulty broaching or talking about the troubling subject. Since he was not on the clock nor was he being paid for the service--this was his Rosa after all, his friend in need-- he did not see the need to prod the conversation along.

Rosa, after finishing her cup, finally found the words:

"I...well. Artem and I broke up."

Vyn, being in the middle of refilling Rosa's cup, spilled a fair bit of liquid onto the table. He hurriedly blotted out the small puddle with tissues grabbed from the nearby tissue caddy.

"I see," he murmured. "I am sorry to hear that."

"Mhm." Rosa wrung her hands, visibly frustrated. "I...ah. It's so hard to talk about why it happened..."

"Let us not be concerned about the circumstances, my dear Rosa," said Vyn, back in his seat on the sofa a respectable distance away from her. "Instead, let us talk about you feel. That is why you found your way here, is it not?

"Just to be clear," Vyn continued, "I am not a specialist on couples therapy, if you are seeking counsel on how to repair your relationship. However," he steepled his fingers over his lap. "I can help you with processing your feelings, and to be perfectly frank that is my main concern now, first and foremost."

Rosa nodded. "I won't ask the moon from you, Dr. Richter." She smiled bitterly. "After the things I told him, I...I don't know..."

"Is it alright if I ask some prying questions?"

"Of course, Dr. Richter. I did seek out your help..."

"When did the break up happen?"

Rosa paused, as if mentally counting the days. "It was...more than two weeks ago. I remember because..." she bit her lip. "We just went off at each other after a major client engagement that lasted well into the evening..."

Vyn's expression darkened, thankful that he took a seat where Rosa could not see his face unless she turned towards him.

Two weeks. Two weeks of holding in such grief; and still seeing the source of her anguish day to day for work...

Vyn would have to chide her for it sometime, but not now. Right now Rosa's feelings should be front and center. "Two weeks is a long time to deal with this pain unassisted, Rosa." he murmured. "Did you have anyone to talk with about this, apart from me?"

"No. It's just you, Dr. Richter." Rosa fiddled with the handle of her teacup. "Everyone else...either they're connected with Artem and our work in some way or another," she sighed. "It...it wasn't easy. It actually took a leap of faith for me to decide to call you."

She took a deep breath. "It's--its all getting too much for me."

"And I am glad you had faith in me at least, my dear Rosa." Vyn whispered. "How do you feel now?"

"Just terrible." Rosa fought tears from running down her cheeks. "Terrible. Can I tell you about it?"

"That is what I am here for, Rosa," Vyn said. "I am here to listen. Go ahead."

"Whenever it's quiet, especially at night when I'm about to sleep, I--I replay the time when we had the argument that led to the breakup." Rosa's lip trembled. "It feels so horrible, being alone at night with those thoughts. I couldn't go through the night without taking sleep medication."

She was about to wipe her tears with her sleeve, when Vyn held her arm in place to stop her from doing so.

He reached over to her face with tissue in hand. Carefully, he blotted the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Vyn then pushed the tissue caddy closer to her edge of the table. "Sorry for the interruption," he whispered softly. "Go on."

"I feel miserable and lonely every night, Dr. Richter." She laughed derisively at herself. "I told him all these terrible things--and all I've been thinking about is how miserable I am, being lonely as a result. I am a terrible, selfish--"

"I will have to stop you right there, Rosa," Vyn cut in. "First of all, whatever the circumstances that led to your breakup, your feelings are valid. You are hurt. You are lonely. These two are not false." He pursed his lips. "Acknowledging these feelings does not make you terrible, nor selfish."

Rosa kept silent.

"You will need to accept your feelings, Rosa," Vyn said, in calm and measured tones. "You cannot just deny them because of what you think you could have done, on hindsight. Nor should you castigate yourself over matters that are over and done with."

"But..." Rosa winced. "Artem have had good reasons. I..." her voice trailed off. "I was an utter fool for demanding more time from him..."

This caught Vyn's attention. "The cause of your fight was him not having enough time for you?"

"Somewhat." Rosa rubbed her temples. "Now that I'm talking about it, I really feel like an ass--"

"Stop that, Rosa," Vyn said, a tad too tersely than he had intended.

"Dr. Richter?"

He sighed. "Mind, I am not like this with any of my patients. I am merely speaking my mind more openly because you are my friend."

Vyn stood up and moved to the seat next to her, close enough for him to hold her by the shoulders and look into her face directly, his amber-gold eyes holding warmth for her. Yet, at the same time the same eyes pierced through her with firm determination.

"I do not want to see you castigate yourself over matters that are over and done with, Rosa," he repeated his words from earlier. "You were never the type to just wake up and tell yourself, 'oh, today is a nice day to piss off my boyfriend, mayhap I shall do just that.'"

This prompted a small chuckle from Rosa.

"No, Rosa, you had a good reason to raise grievance with him. This I fully believe and even stake my life on," Vyn gently squeezed her shoulders. "Do not invalidate your feelings and decisions from that moment that led to your break up. The last thing that you want is...you losing the support from your own self."

"But this is just like you, Dr. Richter," Rosa's smile was tinged with sadness. "You never let me take any blame. There's always an excuse for me..."

"Do you think of me that lowly, Rosa?" Vyn's smile was twisted. "That is a good way of saying I am a manipulative bastard with ulterior motives."

She swallowed. "N-no! I meant, you are too kind...is all..."

"Heh." Vyn's smile was too taut. "Be that as it may, I can see you being quick to make excuses for Artem, who, I have to emphasize, is the source of your anguish right now."

He finally let go of Rosa's shoulders, pouring himself a cup of tea.

"I do not doubt that there were good times in your relationship, but there have been well-documented tendencies for those grieving after a lost relationship to obsess and fixate over those better times, to the point of forgetting why a break up has even taken place."

Vyn took a sip. "I am seeing it in action right now, with you.

"You need to remind yourself why you felt the need to raise grievance with Artem. Why the argument happened in the first place. Journals, lists, anything, as long as you sit down and think about it. Maintain a certain equilibrium in your thoughts."

Rosa nodded. "O-okay..."

"Do you want me to teach you a small trick that may help?"

"A trick...?"

"Yes. One that may help when your thoughts try to lead you to misery again." Vyn set down his cup back onto its saucer. "Give me your hand, please." He reached out a hand to her.

Rosa placed her trembling hand on his.

"Good." Vyn pushed her long sleeves back just enough to reveal her delicate wrist. "Now, I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?"

"Think about Artem." Vyn's eyes carefully watched Rosa's face for tells or any microexpressions. "Think about the 'good reasons' he may have had that you mentioned earlier. Think about the good moments that you miss having with him."

It did not take long for tears to threaten to spill out from Rosa's eyes.

Seeing this, Vyn pinched the delicate skin on the underside of Rosa's wrist with his thumb and forefinger, prompting a surprised cry of pain. He did not let up, and even twisted the soft skin in his hard pinching, leaving a pink mark on her skin when Rosa finally wrenched her wrist away from his firm grip.

"Ah! Dr. Richter, what the f...?!"

Vyn chuckled. "I shall gladly accept all profanities you would hurl at me, my dear Rosa, as I rightfully deserve it. No need to restrain yourself with saying fuck."

"Yes, but what the fuck Dr. Richter?! That really hurt!"

"That it does, but have you noticed something else as well?"

"What? Aside from you giving me a welt on my wrist?"

"For the last few seconds after I pinched you, did you still think of Artem?"

Realization dawned on Rosa's face. "Oh. Oh, no. Actually...yeah, no." Rosa rubbed her wrist. It still stung from the doctor's assault.

Vyn only smiled. "Yes. So, what I need you to do, is when your thoughts start going that way, you should pinch yourself. Hard. Hard that it causes enough pain for you to stop whatever you are thinking about that moment. Painful enough that you are prompted to stop your thoughts from spiraling downwards."

"Haha..." Rosa rubbed the faint pink welt that Vyn inflicted on her. "Are you like this with your patients too?"

"For this type of case, I just give them a rubber band to wear that they can snap onto their wrist." Vyn smirked. "But for you, you needed an extra painful pinch from me."

"Okay," Rosa grinned, a sincere smile that Vyn was glad to finally see. "Not only that, every time I pinch myself, I'll probably consider it as a tut-tut from you, Dr. Richter."

Vyn had to laugh at that. "If you think of it that way, I suppose you are not wrong."

===

Sunset already coalesced into deep purple-orange skies when Rosa finally bid goodbye and left the office, leaving Vyn to do minor clean up before he himself left for home.

All things considered he did not actually follow the prescribed therapy procedure; instead he pushed onto her his methods on how she should get over the break up--get over Artem, in particular, if he were to be entirely honest with himself.

He could have slipped in a few words to give his NXX colleague the benefit of the doubt. But instead he...

Supposing they mend their relationship, that their break up was only temporary? Suppose Rosa accidentally let Artem know about how her consultation with me went?

She would not do it deliberately of course--he trusted her as much--but Rosa was well known for wearing her heart on her sleeve.

Vyn, after hanging the tea towel by the small sink in his office, buried his face in his hands.

Fuck.

===

It proved to be quite an eventful moment in the NXX Headquarters, after a month-long hiatus since their last meeting.

Vyn could already hear Marius's obnoxious noises pestering Luke as he descended the stairs leading to the NXX basement proper.

Upon opening the conference room door, he was not surprised to see Artem and Rosa seated apart, a few chairs between them, silently keeping to their tablets.

Unfortunately, Marius had also noticed this. "Eh, Missy, why aren't you with your Arty-poo?" he said, smirking. "Are you guys fight--"

"Instead of butting into other people's affairs, Marius, do you have the laboratory results we needed from your Pharmaceuticals?" Vyn cut in, voice a bit louder than usual.

"What do you take me for? Of course I have, it's already currently displayed on the screen." Marius jerked his thumb towards the holographic screen laid across the wall in front of them.

"Well, that is good then," Vyn said brusquely as he took one of the seats between Artem and Rosa. "And? Your report?"

"What the--are you trying to get on my case this early, Vyn?" Marius muttered.

"That's because you're being an insufferable idiot already at 11 am in the morning, Marius," Luke said, his chin propped on hand, expression clearly irritated. "Just shut up, will you? I just want this over and done with so I don't have to do overtime with my other duties."

Vyn mouthed Luke a silent "thank you"; Luke only shrugged.

"Oh, so the NSB mole is playing nice with the NXX psychiatrist, Marius said, voice laced with arsenic. "What, has there been some development that PAX needs to know about, with NSB in particular?"

Luke only groaned.

Vyn silently crossed his arms.

Artem, for his part, spoke up. "Marius, if we can just start with your report on what PAX Pharmaceuticals have gathered for the past month, the sooner all of us can get to our respective day duties."

"Well yeah, but that doesn't answer the question why you're not seated with Ro--"

"MARIUS!" Vyn slammed his fist onto the table. Every pair of eyes were on him now--this was the first time they heard him lose composure, much less shout--witnessing a historic moment where Marius von Hagen finally pushed his usually cool and composed tutor, the esteemed Dr. Vyn Richter, into losing his utter shit.

"I am not in a good mood right now, Marius--I have a headache coming on, and I have no intention of hearing you blather on while every one of us are eager to get to our other duties. Now. Your report. Please."

Marius could only blink. "Fucking hell. Fine."

The next two hours were spent deliberating on each member's reports. Vyn carefully observed the behavior of the erstwhile couple seated at his either side; thankfully they were mostly fully functional at work mode, and neither Rosa nor Artem were avoiding from interacting with each other as long as the interaction was limited to work-related activities only.

Good. It seems that I was worried for nothing--maybe I should have let Marius run his course and observe how Rosa would take his inquisition. Vyn deliberated with himself as he rifled through the new files gathered from everyone on his tablet. On the other hand, she was in too vulnerable a state the other day, to take jabs. Maybe it would be good to err on the prudent side.

And as the meeting came to a close, Vyn called for Rosa. "I will need your assistance with a certain case I am looking at. Can I bother you with this before you return to your office?"

"Oh, um." Rosa looked at Artem, who in turn threw a look at both of them. "Mr. Wing, I'll just stay here for a bit--"

"Who will drive you back to the office then?" Artem asked, voice clipped.

"I will, naturally," Vyn said, his piercing gold gaze meeting Artem's cerulean. "I will take her to your office on my way to the research institute. It is of no consequence to me." His voice was still gentle, yet laced with an edge that brooked no argument.

Artem and Vyn stared at each other silently for several seconds, until Artem finally said, "Fine. I will need her in time for our client meeting in a couple of hours, Vyn. Make sure she is back in the office by then."

"This will only take her less than an hour." Vyn said. "I will drop her off as soon as we are done."

"You'd better." Artem pulled away from his stare-off with Vyn and shows himself out the door.

Vyn and Rosa waited until they could hear the main door of the NXX section close behind Artem.

"Rosa, tell me--if he broke up with you, surely he would not have displayed such a possessive streak?" Vyn said as he gestured for Rosa to take a seat by the conference table, taking his own seat next to hers.

"It's...complicated, Dr. Richter." Rosa smoothed her skirt with a hand. "I...I don't know. It is like he's waffling between us needing to be apart, or be together." Rosa bit her thumb.

"And he still offers you to give you a lift to these NXX meetings?"

"He insisted. To be honest I'd rather take a taxi on my way here, but he's been adamant that we keep to our old...habits. For show, I believe." Rosa's eyes went downcast, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

"That is hardly healthy nor helpful to either of you." Vyn noted. "Especially you, Rosa. How do you feel about it?"

"Terrible. Confused. Sometimes scared," Rosa sighed. "I mean, I trust Artem, despite what's happened, but..."

"But...?"

"Speaking with him...always makes me end up doubting myself. Like, for example. During the drive to our meeting earlier. He was picking an argument about whether or not we should stay apart," Rosa huffed. "Funnily enough he himself can't give a definite answer to it."

"Ah, but," Vyn tapped his fingers onto the table. "Suppose he is like that because he wants to get back with you, but knowing Artem, is just too awkward to bring up the possibility properly?

I am mostly asking this for my benefit. But to hell with it.

"I thought of that, of course," she said, shaking her head. "But I...after our talk the other day, I realized that yes, our fight happened because he was too focused on his work." She laughed bitterly. "I also realized that was probably the reason why I became his girlfriend; I was part of his work, so who better than me, right? It was like him setting up his work environment as a microcosm of life itself."

Vyn listened intently, his gaze never leaving Rosa's face.

"If it's not about work, then it is not worth looking at, if he could help it. This also extended to our relationship...we used to watch movies together, but ever since Themis took off as a reputable firm, high profile clients just came pouring in and suddenly there's no more breathing room for even dates anymore...dinners are always used to discuss about work.

"It felt...too constrained. And the way he tended to dictate how I conduct myself in public, like him not letting me accept alcohol in social events...it was..." Rosa struggled to find words.

"Suffocating?" Vyn hazarded.

"Yes, that." Rosa ran a hand through her hair. "And to think I was only able to gather my thoughts properly regarding this, because I heeded your advise in spending some time writing down the negatives of my relationship with Artem. I truly needed to sit down and take the time to think about things."

Vyn hummed in reply. "I am glad you did so."

"You've never let me down, Dr. Richter. Now, what about the case that you needed my help with?"

"We are currently working on it, right now," Vyn smiled.

"Huh?" Rosa blinked. "Oh."

"I had you stay for a bit so I can check in on my friend. I hope..." Vyn paused. "I hope you could find it in yourself to lean on us--on me--more, now that you are actually in need, Rosa. Imagine my chagrin when you told me this has been going on for two weeks without turning to anyone for help."

"I didn't want to trouble anyone. Especially since I thought it was my fault. You know," Rosa rocked a bit in her chair.

"And you know now that it does not matter whose fault it was. What does is that you found yourself in a situation that you want to extricate yourself from."

How quick am I to suggest that she remove herself from the relationship, instead of encouraging her to smooth things out with Artem.

Vyn found himself smiling darkly. I truly am fated to burn in the fires of hell, should there be one reserved for me when I die.

Rosa reluctantly nodded. "Y-yes..."

"That aside, have you been eating well?"

"Um. Ever since Artem hasn't been coming by to cook, I'm now back to calling for deliveries."

Vyn cocked an eyebrow. "That is not good. In this precarious situation you are going through right now, you need to make sure you are well-nourished. Hmm." He tapped his fingers on the glass table, once again. "Would you mind if I send you a care package sometime soon?"

"Care package...?" Rosa asked. "That sounds vague. Should I be scared?"

Vyn laughed. "Ah, there is the cheeky Rosa I know and love..."

He blinked when he realized what he had just said.

Rosa did not seem to notice, her head still tipped to one side inquiringly.

Good, she was always slow to pick up on these things. This was not the first overture he threw her way, and she was always none the wiser. Vyn inwardly sighed in relief.

"If you are scared of receiving sandwiches and pastries, then maybe, yes, feel free to be afraid?" He gently ruffled Rosa's hair affectionately, before standing up and offering her a hand.

"Come, I still need to make good on my promise to Artem to deliver his ex-girlfriend to hi--"

Rosa may have pulled on Vyn's hand a bit too strongly, as the both of them yelped in surprise and sent sprawling onto the cold floor of the NXX conference room, with Rosa falling on top of Vyn.

"Ouch...Dr. Richter, are you okay?"

Vyn groaned slightly. "I am good, but...your elbow just poked at my ribs a tad harder than what I can ignore..."

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" Rosa rolled off Vyn and fussed over him, particularly at the left side of his ribcage that she accidentally elbowed. "I am so terribly sorry, and after all the good that you've done for me!"

"There's no need to worry, Rosa," Vyn muttered as the haze of pain gradually dissipated. "All I will get is a bruise, and an amusing memory to go along with it." He was still lying on the floor, waiting for the pain on his ribs to subside.

"Just give me, hmm. Five minutes. Then I will get up."

"And if you're still not feeling okay after five minutes?"

"Then it means that you have broken some of my ribs and you, Rosa, will be responsible for it." Vyn smirked, or rather tried to smirk, from where he lay on the floor, his coat spread out underneath him.

The scene made for an amusing sight.

Rosa wrung her hands. "Oh, but--argh. Rosa, you utter dolt."

"I will pinch you again if you insist on castigating yourself for everything, even accidents such as these." Vyn drawled.

"Dr. Richter!"

"I jest," Vyn smiled as he closed his eyes. "I hope you do not mind me closing my eyes. The glare of the overhead lamp is just getting to me."

Eyes closed, Vyn fell quiet, pretending to nap. It was clear that Rosa tended to berate herself if she was allowed to, and he was not going to be her sounding board of her self-hatred if he could help it.

A long period of silence followed, and Vyn could almost feel himself slipping to unconsciousness, when--

He felt sweet warmth pressing upon his lips.

Surprised, his eyes fluttered open, only to see Rosa's face over his as she kissed him.

Rosa...? Vyn could not believe what he felt, what he saw.

He had perfect control of his faculties, yet he was still caught unaware by the woman who filled his most of his waking thoughts--or did he deliberately lay there, prone, unconsciously setting up a situation where she could do anything she wished, if she wanted to? After all of the little, coincidental, absolutely not deliberate suggestions he threw at her?

Sometimes I do not know myself anymore, was his thought as he gathered Rosa in his arms and pulled her closer to him.

This is dangerous.

Breath shuddering, he opened his lips to receive her kisses, reveling in the sensations of her tongue exploring his lips, his mouth, and eventually entwining with his own.

Rosa is appreciating him. Tasting him. Vyn felt a strong jolt of something in his chest that he would have difficulty describing to his dictaphone the next time he would do his self-assessment. Limerence? Surge of oxytocin? Dopamine?

His mind went on overdrive, reflexively trying to make sense of the situation as Rosa moved over him, having her way with him.

Vyn caught himself moaning softly as Rosa's tongue ran across his lips.

Rosa's auburn hair spilled over the sides of his face, like the moon blotting out the sun in a spectacular eclipse. The scent of her floral shampoo and perfume saturated his senses. The wet sounds of their kissing blocked the loud humming of the air conditioner--everything is now Rosa.

Only Rosa.

Vyn could feel his arousal growing, and he shifted a little to keep Rosa from accidentally feeling how much he wanted her right now.

No...not yet.

However, Vyn still wanted more, regardless of what situation led to that sweet moment. He tightened his hold around her, one of his hands threading through her soft tresses as he pushed down at the back of her head, pressing her face closer to his.

Rosa. Rosa. All of his nerve endings sung at the culmination of his adoration for her, from the very moment she waltzed into his study, toppling down his house of cards...

He allowed himself a soft sucking of her probing tongue. More.

More.

A trail of saliva connected their lips as Rosa pulled briefly from their kiss, only to break off once she spoke. "Dr. Richter...I...." She swallowed. "I really should not say I did not know what came over me, but..."

"That is fine," Vyn breathed against her lips. "Not everything has to be planned. But," he tilted his face up to meet Rosa's lips with his to sneak in another quick kiss. "This is rather ill-timed. You do understand this."

Vyn licked his lips, relishing the traces of Rosa's flavor left on them. "I really should stop this, Rosa. I really should. But since you started it," he sighed longingly. "Can I be permitted to be selfish, just a for little bit?"

Please. I have waited for so long. I have been made to give up on my wait, but I have never stopped waiting, have I?

He wanted to say those words, and more, but he already had Rosa in his arms, pain in his side be damned, and is that not the only thing that mattered this very moment?

"Can you kiss me a little bit more? Before I send you back to your office?" Vyn's amber-gold eyes betrayed the long-simmering yearning that he held for her.

He reached out a hand to cup Rosa's flushed cheek. The warmth filled his chest with a strange kind of hunger that he never knew he was capable of feeling, until that very moment.

Rosa nodded. "Yes." She bit her lip. "I...I am a dolt in more ways than one, Dr. Richter...but I suppose now is not the time to talk about it."

"You are right," Vyn said, his gentle voice touched with a little impatience that he could not hold back. "Now. Kiss me. Please."

That which had stoppered this dam has been so sweetly removed.

And Rosa, once again, blotted out everything in the world that wasn't her.

===

One week had passed rather uneventfully.

Vyn did deliver on his promise to send Rosa a care package, not once but three times; he had them sent on the days that he knew to be especially stressful for her, based on her usual temperament whenever he struck conversations with her during those days: Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday.

Sunday bore a basket filled with sweet dessert and pastries, bearing with it a promise of sweetness that she should look forward to throughout the rest of the week: happy, pastel-colored assorted macarons, a whole round of Tarte Tatin--which Vyn painstakingly had to spend several hours experimenting with several types of apples available in nearby groceries--and with a touch of whimsy he added a bowl of alcoholic Christmas pudding.

("Dr. Richter, why did you give me Christmas pudding in the middle of July?" Rosa had asked him over the phone, stifled laughter poorly hidden. He had answered, quite blithely, "It is Christmas in Australia. Merry Christmas.")

Monday, the most stressful day, had Rosa receive mostly comfort food, all of which she was surprised to receive from a doctor such as Vyn: a tub of premium black forest ice cream; a simple homemade spaghetti, its recipe adjusted to allow for more meat; and decadent fudge brownies that would earn even Vyn a frown from a dentist.

("I thought the entire point of you sending me these is to nourish me properly?" Rosa had laughed over the speaker phone. "Why are you sabotaging not only my diet, but my blood chemistry results too?" To which Vyn had replied, "I did say I would send you nourishing food--and it is your emotional health that I seek to nourish, Rosa dearest. I said no lie.")

Wednesday was a more elegant affair: it was a wooden box filled with an assortment of cold cuts, assorted cheeses, chocolates, and two small bottles of red wine--each enough for a single glass serving--to go along with the finger food.

("This is just perfect for unwinding right in the middle of a busy week, Dr. Richter. Thank you." "Never you mind, Rosa. Enjoy the end of your hump day.")

Friday evening finally arrived, and Vyn, still in his office, contemplated whether or not to ask Rosa out for dinner.

If that moment back in the NXX conference room did not happen, he would have long dialed her number and invited her out already to a restaurant of both their choosing--or she may have him recommend a place, as she was always wont to do when she was still unattached--yet after that tender moment, on the cold hard floor of the conference room, no less...

Vyn spun his smartphone between his fingers, deep in thought.

I can no longer hide behind the laughable pretense of 'close friend'. Nor could I explain this off with simply keeping tabs on her emotional well-being.

I am already stepping in and courting her, am I not?

Vyn absent-mindedly performed his sleight-of-hand routine with his phone as he further delved into his thoughts. Should I have stopped her, then, before it progressed and made my feelings known? No, she needed affirmation that she was still desirable. Another rejection would have been--

The phone slipped out of his hands, launching it into the air and snapping Vyn out of his reverie. He managed to catch the device before it hit the floor, much to his relief.

Who am I kidding? Why am I using Rosa as an excuse? I wanted it. I want her so much. I want her so much it hurts.

His mind made up, Vyn was about to put Rosa on speed dial when his phone finally rang.

It was her.

"Rosa--" He was about to smile, but the moment he heard her panicking voice his free hand clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.

"Stay put, Rosa. I will be there. Yes, I am making my way there now."

===

"Dr. Richter!" Rosa immediately pulled Vyn inside her apartment the moment he knocked on her door.

"I am here," he said, enveloping the shaken woman in his protective embrace as soon as he closed the door behind her.

This time he did not restrain himself from kissing the top of her head. "Shh. I am here. There is nothing to be afraid of."

"It's my fault!" Rosa sobbed against his chest, her fists gripping fistfuls of his shirt. "I didn't--I--"

"One at a time, Rosa, there is no need to hurry," Vyn whispered as soothingly as he could. "Come, let us sit on your sofa--"

As he led her to her living room, he immediately saw why she was crying uncontrollably.

Her living room was an utter mess. Someone had very clearly intruded her home in a fit of rage: several of her things were strewn across the floor, a table lying on its side, shards of ceramic scattered along one corner of the floor where a large vase was thrown off its place by the windowsill.

Rosa recoiled at the sight of her ravaged living room.

Vyn took a deep breath to compose himself.

"Rosa, look at me," he whispered, summoning as much tenderness as he could for her sake. "Ssh, look at me."

Sniffling, Rosa raised her tear-stricken gaze to meet his.

Vyn then pressed one of her hands to his chest. "Follow my breathing," he whispered softly. "Can you do this for me, Rosa?"

Rosa nodded silently.

"Good. Let us do this together."

Vyn bent down to press his forehead against hers, inhaling and exhaling deep breaths. He slightly exaggerated his own breathing, so Rosa could feel each rise and fall of his chest under her palm.

He kept at it, until he could feel Rosa's breathing finally synchronize with his.

Having calmed down, Rosa hugged Vyn tightly, letting her head rest against his shoulder. "Dr. Richter, I..."

"Let us sit you down first." Vyn sat down on one end of the sofa, patting the space beside him. "Come, sit beside me."

"He...he came here earlier. It started out fine," Rosa sighed as soon as she sat down beside Vyn, nestling her face in the crook of his neck.

Vyn said nothing; he listened intently as he put his arm around her shoulders.

"He came here because he wanted to make up with me. He...asked for another chance." Rosa pressed her body closer to his, as if seeking more of his warmth. "He came in unannounced--he knew the passcode of my door."

"I was...I was in the middle of writing in my journal, when he came to talk. Stupid me left it open on the table...I was shocked by his sudden visit, I guess?" Rosa laughed at herself in disdain. "I was totally not ready for visitors. Especially him...so I went to the kitchen to get him something to eat."

Rosa sighed. "When I came back from the kitchen, I saw him reading through my journal. That...that journal I specifically bought to organize my thoughts and feelings, like you told me to."

Rosa wrung her hands; Vyn, having noticed it, took her hands with his own, cradling them gently in the warmth of his palm.

"So there's only a few pages written in. It's...fairly easy to find the pages where I listed down all the negatives about my relationship with him, to remind me, as you said. I did list down the happy things and memories we did share but...the bad clearly outnumbered the good.

"I suppose it hurt his ego."

Vyn finally found it in himself to speak. "And he did this?" His voice came out shaky. "Artem did this?"

"N-not yet." Rosa started to fiddle with Vyn's long, tapered fingers. "He was hurt, yes, but not enough to go amok. He did start a huge row about it, but it wasn't until he found the bottle of wine that you sent me that things went downhill."

"He drank the wine I gave you?"

"Remember when I said he didn't like the idea of me drinking alcohol?" Rosa half-smirked. "He figured out that it was a gift--I didn't say from whom, of course--but he decided that he'd drink it so that I couldn't."

"Artem the stupid, fucking lightweight," Vyn muttered darkly. "So, inebriated, he did all," he gestured towards the chaos in the living room. "This?"

Rosa nodded.

I will get him.

He did not voice his fury for Rosa's sake. "First things first, Rosa. Dearest," he nuzzled her hair. "Let us change the passcode of your main door. You do know how to do that, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need assistance?"

Rosa shook her head. "No. No, but...I'd like you to come with me so you'd know the code as well. For emergency purposes."

Vyn blinked at her. "Rosa, I... I am honored that you should choose me for such an important and intimate role. Are you sure?"

Rosa nodded. "You're the one who's been showing up for me so far. Well, you and Luke."

She then stood up to fetch something in her loft bedroom.

"Luke has been helping you as well?" Vyn asked as he padded over to the side table that had been toppled over, standing it upright and setting it back in its proper place.

"Yes, I've started sharing my troubles with him. I guess you can say that I was encouraged after I saw how much you supported me." Rosa descended the stairs that led from the loft, card key to her door panel in hand.

Luke. Of course. The only one other person in the current NXX roster with a good head on his shoulders.

"I'm going to reset the passcode now. Come with?" Rosa asked, rather shyly.

"Of course."

After Rosa changed the locks and handed Vyn a copy of the keycard for safekeeping, he had spent the entire Friday evening until early morning helping her clean up the aftermath of Artem's drunken rage.

They managed to get the living room back to its usual spotless state, sans many of personal effects, which had to be thrown out and replaced.

Vyn took over the task of creating an inventory of the damaged property after he tucked the weary Rosa into bed.

He would go over the inventory with Rosa later, so she could provide the estimated monetary value of each should things escalate and require ammo for litigation purposes.

For now, there is a more pressing matter that needs taking care of. Vyn put a number on speed dial.

"Luke. This is Vyn." A pause. "Yes, I know this is an unusually early time for me to call. Can we meet?"

===

"Holy hell, Vyn, you look terrible," Luke muttered as he opened the door of his antiques shop.

"Yes. I know. I have not gotten a chance to sleep yet." Vyn resisted the urge to snap, as he was wont to be when sleep deprived. He was here for Luke; he needed the detective's assistance.

Luke raised his eyebrows. "Oookay. I suppose this is something serious, for something to get between you and your precious sleeping time." He ushered Vyn to his quarters on the second floor of the building. "Coffee or juice?"

"Coffee, if you please," Vyn muttered as he took a spot by the floor table, sitting on the carpeted floor cross legged.

Vyn felt his senses stir a little bit towards wakefulness once Luke placed a mugful of instant coffee in front of him; tendrils of coffee aroma teased his sense of smell. He inhaled deeply, trying to grasp at whatever capacity to stay awake he still had left.

"It's nothing that you're used to, Vyn, but that's all I have," Luke said as he took his place opposite Vyn. "So. What's up."

"Rosa." Was all Vyn could say between gulps of instant coffee. He hoped the mere mention of her name could already clue him in.

"Shit. What did Artem do?"

"Went amok in her living room. Scared our Rosa so much she called for me." Vyn finally set the mug, now empty, back on the table. "She almost cried herself to sleep."

"Fuck." Luke took a deep breath. "I assume she's okay now? Since you were with her and all."

"Sleeping when I left, yes."

Vyn ran a fingertip across the rim of his mug, eyes growing even more bleary. He could feel himself nodding off. "I spent the entire night helping her clean up."

"Damn it. Damn it." Luke muttered. "She should've called for me."

"That is precisely why she called me, and not you," Vyn pursed his lips. "She knew you'd go off and break his bones the moment she confided to you about this."

Luke snorted. "I'd do much more than that."

He then crossed his arms. "And yet, you're here, roping me in anyway despite what Rosa feels about me getting involved. Why?"

Vyn looked at Luke, his face unreadable except for the slight tinge of fury that spilled out of his eyes.

"Because some bones may need breaking."

===

It only took an hour into working with Luke to tell Vyn that he had made the right choice calling for the detective.

While Vyn and Marius were both well-versed when it came to higher-level analytical work and resource-pulling that the NXX project required, Luke's prowess clearly showed when the task at hand demanded covert fieldwork and tracking.

For example, determining a specific person's daily routine, their preferred travel routes, where they parked their car...

And since the person they were tracking was a close colleague, the results were expedited from Luke's usual two days to a mere hour, by virtue of Luke knowing exactly where to look.

"Yeah, so. If you want us to corner him somewhere before Monday," Luke began, poring over printouts of various logs.

"There is a good chance of doing so when he gets back from his weekend drive out to the mountains. Tomorrow evening," Luke determined.

Parking logs, tollway timestamps, even a listing of places where Artem tended to use his credit cards every weekend. Vyn pored over the sheets of paper onto which myriad numbers were printed, signifying the times when each transaction had occurred, and where.

"I would not even ask how you can legally get your hands on this kind of information," Vyn murmured as his eyes lazily scanned a listing of where Artem used his card on Saturday last two weeks ago.

"That's the thing, legal isn't a word that applies to us exactly." Luke murmured as he installed a backdoor that would temporarily enable him to gain access to the parking lot's CCTV network. "And that definition was granted and approved via legal means."

"Meaning, no one should end up on your... Shit list."

Luke shook his head. "Mm, I'm not so petty as to use my NSB privileges if I want to deal with personal matters. I'd much rather break arms. I find it a more eloquent method to put my point across."

"Meaning, no one should end up on your shit list," Vyn repeated, brows now raised.

"Except when it comes to Rosa," Luke said as he hit the Return button. "When it comes to her I will use every means I have at my disposal. Childhood friend, you understand." He cracked his knuckles.

Vyn felt that the message was also meant for him, somehow.

"Anyway, Vyn. I've asked you many times, but--are you sure you want to do this?" Luke looked away from his retro CRT terminal to face Vyn.

"I am an incognito government agent, so this work is best left to me. You, however...you have a lot to lose, should this get out. Prestige, standing--"

"Prestige and standing can go fuck themselves," Vyn muttered as he massaged his temples. He still hasn't had any sleep, and it was already almost noon. "As long as that idiot insists on hovering around Rosa while she's still hurt--" Vyn bit his lip, becoming increasingly irritable.

"You don't even sound right anymore, Vyn," Luke's brows furrowed. "If you can't drive yourself home, feel free to crash here if you want."

Vyn let out a ragged sigh. "Yes. Yes, I suppose you are right." He pushed himself away from the table where Luke worked, padding towards the small corridor that led to...somewhere.

"Uh, Vyn, my bedroom's that way," Luke jerked his thumb to the direction opposite where Vyn was headed. "My bed's yours. Knock yourself out."

"Thank you."

"Just sleep. I've taken care of everything; all that's left is what needs to be done tomorrow."

===

Sunday evening.

Artem parked his sports car into his usual spot, after his usual drive through the mountain paths. Having turned the ignition off, he let himself settle a little bit longer in the car seat.

He groaned and almost hit his head against the wheel. The entire point of taking his usual weekend drives was to cool his head off.

Yet this time not even the drive through the entire length of the mountain pass through Cloudbreak and beyond could do anything to quell the guilt and shame of what he did to Rosa the other night.

I should have stayed away. I should have stuck to whatever we decided and stayed away.

Cursing himself inwardly again and again, he unlocked and kicked open his car door, then closing it behind him with a loud slam.

"Whatever did the car do, for you to lash out at it so?"

Artem quickly looked behind him, towards the direction of the very familiar dulcet voice.

Vyn stepped out of the shadows behind a nearby SUV, his hands in his pockets. "Good evening. Fancy meeting you here, Artem." He smiled genially, as if they met by chance across the street, or in a grocery.

Certainly not a greeting from a man who most certainly lay in wait to ambush him.

"Vyn. What do you want?"

The doctor slowly inched towards him, hands still in his pockets, smile still plastered on his face. "Nothing. Just a short chat, is all."

Vyn did not show any signs of slowing down his approach towards him and Artem had to take a few steps back, until his leg hit the still-warm hood of his car.

"Why do you look like you have seen a ghost? It is only me." Vyn took out his right hand to adjust his glasses.

"Vyn, what--"

A manic, blazing white-hot anger flashed across Vyn's eyes as he lunged at Artem--who raised his arms to try and defend himself-- throwing his full weight at him, pinning the taller man onto the hood of his car.

Vyn's arm pressed hard against Artem's throat, causing debilitating pain as he shifted his weight to press even harder, threatening to asphyxiate him if Vyn bore down just a little bit more.

The doctor's other hand caught Artem's thumb, bending it far backwards, just almost far than what is anatomically possible, prompting Artem to try and scream in pain--but could not, as no sound could escape his throat with how hard Vyn was pressing down on it.

"Just a man to man talk, Wing," Vyn hissed. "You have two choices. First option, is you or Rosa be given no less than a month's leave from work, and the both of you go no contact with each other for that period. It is the simplest option with the least consequence.

"Second option, is you insisting on hurting Rosa by keeping contact with her, and if you take that option I will exhaust all means to sabotage your search for your mentor. Remember this. I never, ever deliver empty threats."

"I will let go of your throat now, Wing--if you do anything out of place you will leave this parking lot with a missing limb," Vyn said, his low voice almost a growl.

"Now, answer me--which option will you take?" Vyn lifted his arm off Artem's throat only slightly.

Thinking that it was his chance to retaliate, Artem started to grab at Vyn with his arm, only for it to be pinned back down onto the hood, only this time with a switchblade pierced through the cuff of its sleeve, barely missing Artem's wrist and his radial artery.

"I said, if you do anything funny you will leave here with a missing limb," Vyn said, his voice and face now completely devoid of emotion. "Or do you want further demonstration of what I can do?"

Artem remained defiant. "Richter, you do know what the consequences are of whatever you are doing, yes?"

"Of course."

"Then you do know that I can sue you for--"

Vyn let out a sharp laugh. "Oh yes, do waggle that pathetic sword at me, won't you? What a good way to shutter down the NXX project and lose all chances of you ever seeing your mentor again.

"Just to be clear--I am not afraid of the consequences of everything that I do. In fact," Vyn's lips curled into a slight smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

"I intend on going to your office tomorrow to see Ms. Taylor, and explain exactly why one of you--you or Rosa--has to go on a month's leave. I have already prepared Rosa's full psychological assessment, and also photographic evidence of the damage that you inflicted in her very home."

Artem's eyes widened.

"So, Mr. Wing," Vyn pulled out the switchblade out of Artem's sleeve.

Only to bring it down once again, this time ominously stabbing the very narrow space between Artem's middle and ring fingers. "The option that you will take. Which will it be."

"Man, for someone as vicious as you, Vyn, you sure are taking too much time." Luke moaned as he approached them. "That's not too good, you know? Just gives the man time to compose himself and plan how to take action."

"Luke?" Artem spat out incredulously. "You're in on this too?"

"Huh?" Luke's head tipped to one side, as if he just heard a silly question. He cracked his knuckles. "Of course I am. You made Rosa cry, you fuckwad."

Then, to Vyn, "Step aside. I'm taking over so we can have this over and done with."

Vyn shrugged. "Have it your way," he said as he removed and folded the switchblade in one swift motion and rolled off Artem.

"Alright, showtime. So what'll it be, Artem? You gonna fuck off for one month or what?" Luke asked casually as he raised his fist.

===

"Well, easy does it," Vyn grunted as he carried one of Rosa's new plush chairs into her living room.

"I think that's the last bit, finally," Rosa breathed as she wiped the sweat off her brow.

They had spent considerable time receiving Rosa's new furniture. Vyn did not tell her yet that it was Celestine who quietly handed him the money for them to spend buying the replacement furniture, including other home items that were damaged last Friday night.

That was a problem that would be tackled later on.

For now, Rosa's comfort came first.

Vyn was about to unpack one of the boxes containing some newly ordered stationery items when Rosa caught his hand.

"Rosa, is something the matter?" Vyn inquired, his head tipped to one side.

"Mm," Rosa hummed as she shook her head. "Nothing's wrong. I...I just wanted to thank you, is all."

Vyn smiled, his amber-gold irises glittering in the sunset that streamed through her large ceiling-to-floor windows. "You are welcome. You are my dearest, closest friend, after all."

"Are we still friends at this point, Dr. Richter?"

"Yes." Vyn said as he observed Rosa's face for her reaction. And there it was, that tinge of disappointment barely hidden.

"As long as you keep on calling me Dr. Richter, then yes, I think we are only friends."

"Then..." Rosa moved closer to him, her arms gingerly encircling his torso. "If I call you Vyn...?"

"If you call me Vyn then it means that you have accepted me into your innermost circle." Then, with a softer, gentler voice he whispered, "Will you accept my affection this time, Rosa?"

His smile was laden with longing, the touch of his fingertips across her cheeks singing loudly of how much he had pined for her for the longest time, even when he had lost her to someone else.

Rosa's reply came in the form of a kiss. Standing on tiptoe, she reached out her arms and coiled them ever so gently around his neck, pulling Vyn's face close to hers.

She moaned softly as this time it was Vyn tenderly probing her lips with his tongue, tasting her with a hunger barely held back lest he devour her fully.

Their tongues met and danced hungrily, igniting a fire inside him.

"Rosa, please...I have waited far too long for this moment," he breathed against her lips as his hands slid to her waist. "Can I have you?" His heartbeat was beating fast and hard against his ribcage; the only way to quell his excitement, it seemed, was finally having the woman who so filled his dreams day by day day...

"Yes," Rosa whispered. "Vyn...I want you."

With a sharp intake of breath Vyn slipped his hands underneath her blouse, letting his hands roam the warm bare skin of her torso--letting her warmth dispel the constantly cool temperature of his skin.

He unclasped her bra, and, his breath shuddering with the sweet and heady mixture of excitement and need, he deepened their kiss; his hands felt and tested the swell of her breasts. "Rosa, Rosa," he murmured in between kisses and touches of tongue on lip. "Rosa, how beautiful you are...

"I need you."

Rosa giggled. "Vyn, we are still in the middle of my living room, do you want to move to the bedroom?"

"The living room which we have put together with our own hands," Vyn whispered as he pulled Rosa close to him, leading her to straddle his thighs as he sat on the new plush chair. "What better place to celebrate our new love?" He asked as he pulled her blouse over her head.

"Vyn, it's much comfortable on the bed!"

A soft laughter escaped Vyn's lips, his smile slightly devious. "Consider this my small revenge for you having stolen a kiss when I was lying, hurt, on the cold hard floor of the conference room."

"I'm sorry for that, but-ah!"

He then bent over to capture a nipple with his lips, his tongue swirling around the nub and teasing it into an aroused, hardened peak. His breath came hot and heavy against her skin as he savored and took his time sucking lightly on her breast.

"Vyn, god, that feels...nice..." Rosa whimpered as she unconsciously moved her hips, grinding her wet arousal that how had seeped through her underwear and slightly soiling the crotch of his pants.

The arousal in Vyn's pants was unmistakable, but he was determined to take his sweet, sweet time--he had waited for so long, delayed gratification was but a little game to him now that he has the woman of his dreams writhing deliciously upon his lap.

"It feels nice?" Vyn hummed as he moved his lips onto her other, neglected nipple. "You taste nice, my dear." As his lips and tongue worked their magic on Rosa's breasts his hands gathered her skirt around her waist, revealing her blue panties underneath.

Rosa bit back a moan as Vyn's hands caressed the tender skin of her inner thighs, his electric cool touches sending tendrils of pleasure coursing through her core. "Vyn, please," Rosa moaned. "Stop teasing me!"

Vyn's mouth let go of Rosa's breast with a soft pop. "Teasing? I am doing no such thing," he drawled as he licked his lips. "I am merely...thoroughly enjoying you. Your taste," he licked her earlobe. "Your sound. Your smell, how you touch and how beautiful you are."

"I am glad that you are such a romantic, Vyn, but...oh god yes..." Rosa squirmed as Vyn finally slipped two fingers inside the garter of her underwear and massaged her clit. She started grinding against the sweet ministrations of his fingers over her sensitive bud.

"I rather like how you sing," Vyn murmured as he concentrated on doing experimental touches on Rosa's slit, the pad of his forefinger drawing circles around her clitoris. "Sing for me more, will you, pet?" Never letting up his sweet assault on her clit, Vyn let his middle and ring fingers dip inside her wet, dripping sex.

"Vyn!" Rosa cried. "Please, I'm near," she started grinding harder into his hand, her voice strained with utter need. "Don't stop, whatever you are doing--oh god...!"

Vyn felt her come undone around his fingers, his hand never letting up his sweet stroking until Rosa had come down from her orgasm high.

When it was time for him to pull out his hand, his fingers were totally drenched with her slick, and Vyn made a show out of licking and sucking his fingers clean of her wetness. "You taste utterly delicious, Rosa," he murmured, his eyes hooded. "Next time, I will eat you all up."

Despite just having come down from an orgasm, Rosa still felt a coil of excitement unravel down her loins at hearing his lewd declaration.

"I will take you now," Vyn said, voice now sultry and low. "I have waited for so long," he whispered as he quickly undid his belt buckle and the buttons of his pants. He kicked off his pants and underwear from his ankles with such urgency rarely seen from the usually calm and composed doctor.

Rosa rubbed his now-freed cock against her wet slit, her own fluids mingling with the precum that dripped from his tip.

"Now, Rosa," Vyn said rather hungrily, "Sit on me. Please."

She did not need any further prodding, with a moan she impaled herself, inch by inch, onto his aching cock. He filled her so wonderfully that she could only moan and sigh at every inch that went inside her, until he was fully hilted.

"Oh god, Vyn," Rosa cried as her hips started to move. "Fuck me harder, won't you?"

"I...I wanted to make this last as much as I could," Vyn groaned. "But I suppose that would be hard to do on our first time."

"Stop being such a romantic and just do me!" Rosa cried.

There was something immensely erotic about being bossed around by his woman who needed him so much that she couldn't wait to be fucked out.

Vyn grinned. "And the lady shall be thoroughly fucked," he said as he stood up from the chair, planting Rosa into the plush leather.

He gently pulled her ass toward near the edge of the seat, and hooked both of her thighs over the armrests of the chair. The position made for a rather lewd display, her slit stretching out just enough for her small hole to pucker open.

"Ah, you just look delectable," Vyn whispered hungrily as he knelt in front of her, his cock at just the right angle to penetrate her. He braced his arms over the armrests--pausing for a brief moment to let his tongue slide against hers--and plunged right in.

"Hahh--yes," Vyn hissed as he started to move. His thrusts started out slow yet deep, slowly picking up the pace as soon as he finds himself chasing his pleasure.

All composure, all romance had been blotted out of him as his need to come slowly took precedence--Vyn's moans intermingled with Rosa's into a most exquisite duet that filled his senses. This is it, this is what I have been waiting for.

The overwhelming sensations washing over him quieted that part of his brain that tried to rationalize what made him drown in euphoria. Dopamine, norepinephrine, limerence; none of them seemed to matter anymore. The only real thing is Rosa writhing, moaning, wanting him, and his need for release--

"Rosa," Vyn breathed, his voice strangled. "I'm about to...where do you want me to come?"

"Inside," Rosa moaned, her hand slipping between them to accelerate her second orgasm to time it along with his. "Come inside me, please!"

With a guttural moan Vyn threw his head back, pushing his cock inside as much as he could, as he flooded Rosa's insides with his come.

===

"Vyn," Rosa whispered as she idly drew circles on his chest with a fingertip. "What did you...what did you do with Artem? He never dropped by the office for a week now, and Celestine is not telling me anything."

They were still seated on the plush chair that they made love in; Rosa sitting on Vyn's lap. The position was such that it was entirely possible that a second round would be necessitated.

Vyn made a non-committal sound. "He took a month's leave, upon our...recommendation, is all."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Vyn planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. "One of the reasons Artem went off like he did was the close proximity between you two even after you have broken up...it was hardly the healthiest arrangement for either of you."

"I...see." Rosa sighed. "I still feel like a dolt--I...I took the safe bet and chose Artem over you. I did see glimpses of how you looked at me before, but..." she smiled sheepishly. "I really thought that I was not deserving of you, that whatever hope I had of you looking at me that way was just my wishful thinking."

"I am sorry, Rosa...that was completely my fault." Vyn caressed her cheek. "I was too caught up in making myself dependable for you that it seemed to backfire on me, making me appear too unattainable."

Rosa laughed. "That is such a roundabout way of humble bragging, Dr. Vyn Richter." She kissed him on the lips. "But that is so you."

"Mhm. I suppose. You would have to forgive me, then, if I overcompensate from time to time? I have to indulge my petty, insecure, overcompetitive sides after all," he murmured, rattling off his less desirable traits that he was all too aware of.

"Yes. I accept it. I accept all of you."

"As I do you and yours, Rosa."

#tears of themis #vyn richter #mo yi #artem wing #luke pearce #tears of themis fanfic #tears of themis smut #tot smut #tot vyn #tot luke #tot artem #xia yan #zuo ran

[artemstellation]

tot men + making up after petty arguments.

artem wing...

.... immediately apologizes the moment he realises he's taken his little banter with you a tad far from the line (totally not me, can never be me). he murmurs a soft apology to you, as he gently holds your hand.

softly rocks you back and forth in his embrace as he places his head over yours and tries to figure out how to get you to forgive him. makes all the food you like for a while (please cook me something i like too-), and you've probably got half a heart to pretend that you're still mad at him just to continue to eat his cooking.

he's bringing you little things you like as gifts, and does it as long as you take to forgive him. it becomes a new routine for him, and because of that, he now has something you like always at hand, and brings it out immediately when he feels he's gone too far (it's what he thinks, it's not really what's happening, he's just being cautious). takes notes using this as to what counts as a little too much regarding teasing in the future.

marius von hagen...

.... actually doesn't get that he's upset you with his teasing at first, until he notices the small scowl you send his way along with the even smaller tears that are gathering in your eyes.

he panics at this, and mumbles out a very jumbled apology as his hands run wild while trying to explain himself (aka me, my hands can never stay still). spontaneously decides that annoying you until you answer him is his way to get your attention, and then proceeds to properly apologize.

calls out to you repeatedly until you look at him, and then laces his fingers with yours as he softly apologizes to you, like he's unsure about something. places tender kisses along your hands, making his way up slowly towards your face. tones down his teasing a lot for the next few days, deciding that not getting to see your flustered face is better than upsetting you.

luke pearce...

.... stops his teasing and smiles sheepishly at you as soon as he notices your pout and upset expression, moving forward to hold your hands as he knocks his forehead with yours.

places his hands around your face and tries to get your attention to be directed to his way, pulling you back towards him every time you look away from him (aha that'd look so cute-). only decides to stop when he's sure that you won't look away from him after he moves his hands away from your face.

makes faces at you until you start laughing, which isn't actually quite hard, seeing as to how ridiculous they are. keeps making faces until you're distracted, and then tackles you in a tickle attack as he laughs and apologizes to you, and you've got no choice but to forgive him (i'd do it immediately, i can't survive tickles-).

vyn richter...

.... softly sighs and gives you an apology right away after noticing the change in your demeanor towards him, his voice reaching your ears, as he runs his fingers through your hair.

takes a soft but firm hold on your shoulders to seat you down and get your attention on him, as he kneels down in front of you and places fluttering kisses along your knuckles and the back of your hand (i'm down bad for this type of stuff), rubbing gentle circles on your wrists.

with your full attention on him, he apologizes once again to you, as he runs some more kisses along your forehead, and then cracks a pun or two right after (things i'd definitely do). brings you desserts he's baked, with something new each day, even if you've forgiven him (you look forward to them now, and he's basically a master baker at this point).

✦ notes; aha finally got time to sit down and write! i've still got schoolwork to do, so have this for now, and yes, i am a marius type of person, and yes, the closer we are, the more i will tease you <33

- rine

© 2021 rine @artemstellation. do not plagarize or repost without due permission.

#(🐅) rine's musings #tears of themis #artem wing #marius von hagen #luke pearce #vyn richter #tears of themis artem #tears of themis marius #tears of themis luke #tears of themis vyn #mihoyo tears of themis #mihoyo #otome x reader #i am seriously considering arson rn /j #the more i think about it #the more i realise that i am a marius kin #marius stans watch out <33

[worms-i-think]

NXX boys but they’re having pasta at my house?? ⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ ˡᵒˡ

Artem Wing

Would feel a little awkward at first, not exactly knowing where to sit for fear of taking someone’s spot at the table

So he positions himself behind the counter, absentmindedly looking at the ingredients out and—

‘Excuse me, but is this a pasta roller?’

Yes it it, wonderful sir! So he rolls up his sleeves and gets out the flour and eggs and salt and oil… and feeds the dough through the weird mixer attachment that only my dad knows how to use

Scrap the boxed crap, the chef is working his magic

The whole process takes a long time to make, so he’s profusely apologizing while we’re all like ‘no, no it’s okay! It’s gonna be worth it’ :)

I love him

He’s very intent on doing his job well, so he barely looks up until he hears my dad talking about movies and feels the urge to state his opinions!

The thing is, my dad likes any movie that made him happy to watch…his philosophy is ‘would my two hours have been better is I hadn’t watched this?’ And if the answer is no, you’ve got a good movie regardless

My brothers are closer in Artem’s regard in that they pay close attention to the plot and inconsistencies, but since Artem is a lawyer he’d probably win the argument on whether, idk Cats 2019 for example, was good or not

(PS the fact that I still talk about it means it was at least memorable, if not the most important movie during quarantine times even though it was terrifying & fever-dream inducing)

But maybe these stupid arguments aren’t worth his time, so he turns back to the pasta

Be prepared for cheers when it’s all finished! He’d shy away from the praise, but be very proud he could cook for us even as the guest.

In his mind, he already has plans for a pesto…or maybe an alfredo sauce…or any new techniques he can try next time :)

Vyn Richter

I would feel so judged at first iviting this dude to my house lmao, he’d psychoanalyze me

But he’s a gentleman, so much so that my whole family would stiffen up and tries to act more formal to fit his attitude.

He definitely notices, but doesn’t bring it up. Part of him thinks it’s funny, but the other half just wants to make everyone more comfortable.

I still love him nevertheless, he’s a very interesting guy and that’d lead me to wanting to ask him all kinds of questions

But I’d never in person lol. Most likely I’d be telling my little sister all about him before he comes for dinner, and once we sit down all her questions come out.

‘Vyn what’s your family like? Who are your parents? What’s all this about being noble? How’d you get two doctorate degrees—was it just to flex on Artem?’

And he’d laugh and say something like ‘goodness, I try buttering one roll and I am suddenly interrogated’ lol

‘Are you wearing contacts??’

‘I inherited my eyes and hair from my father, though I know the colors of both are unnatural’

‘Ahhhh okay…? Do you have a cat?’

‘I do not, do you think I should get one?’ (Feel like he’d treat kids very politely, always appears interested)

She’d likely talk about this one for a solid ten, fifteen minutes, describing the type (white and fluffy) and personality (absolutely regal) the cat would have. She really wants one, but my dad is allergic.

Dinner lasts like this for a very long time as we’re listening to their back-and-forth with amused interest

‘You should meet our bunny!!’ she says, and he says he’d be pleased to make his acquaintance. My rabbit is on the old size, white with black markings like a perfect mustache and a snobbish attitude.

Vyn is thoroughly amused by this and pets him like a supervillain with a cat, except he’s really just sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor, smiling :)

Overall Vyn becomes a very welcome guest at out house. Our bunny is a big fan, so that makes him trustworthy. BunnyBoi knows he won’t drop him or spook his arthritic body too bad 🤍

Marius von Hagen

My little sister would definitely love him the best

They’d take out the marinera and she’d insist he hang out with him before dinner is ready, saying she needs entertainment

And he’d be like ‘y’know what? Yeah. This is my life now’ while he takes out a spoon and drums on the table

Meanwhile my sister would be like ‘you DRAW?? me too!! you should draw, like, cthulu or something’

So he sprawls out his lanky legs under the table

And then he’d take the marinara and just,, pour it onto a plate, spreading it with the spoon with a grin made by the devil himself

Prompting my sister to do the same, pouring some onto the table in the process. She’d use a fork to draw herself while my mom walks up behind her— ‘honey, you don’t even like sauce.’

Heheh

‘You have to eat it now’

Prompting her to shove the plate over to Marius for him to deal with

‘Aww you won’t even eat the sauce?? But we made this meal all special 🥺” (Artem raises a brow at the word ‘we’)

Jokes on you she still won’t eat it, so she scrapes it onto his spaghetti while he pouts at her.

‘You know, I won’t be your friend anymore if you treat me like this.’

She wipes off her own plate with a napkin.

‘I deserve friends who appreciate good cooking~’ (he crosses his arms and turns up his nose at her) ‘and you ruined my cthulu.’

Luke Pearce

My mother’s favorite, she’d be like ‘Luke, do you want me to get you a drink? Do you need a glass? What kind of desserts do you like best?’

She’s already planning a follow up, because he’s a treat to be around

And he loves her too! He’d be smiling and setting the table beforehand

During dinner he would eat all his stuff and reach over to steal my meatballs, no permission but still valid

He has a really full laugh that ends up being absolutely contagious, even over the stupidest things

Picking up some some spaghetti and drop a noodle in your drink mid-scoop? He’s wheezing

And while you pick up a fork to take it out he’s all ‘no! no! You gotta drink it now! This is your specialty now, they should serve this at bars!’

‘CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG’

The whole dinner is very lively thanks to Luke, and he keeps the conversation between everybody in my family! We don’t have a dog, but Luke would fill that spot with that ‘golden retriever boy’ everyone labels him as

‘Do you want me to help you with the dishes?’

(Mom) ‘Ohh that’s so nice of you to volunteer <3 but I’m all set! Really, you should sit and relax!’

‘No no, it’s fine, I wouldn’t mind at all!’ (He’s not letting you go that easy, he insists on being the best child my mom never had)

‘You’ve been such a big help already, I couldn’t ask for more’

‘Aww c’mon, it’s the least I can do!’

‘Luke we have a dishwasher’

#this just appeared in my lil brain idk <3 #tears of themis #tears of themis crack #tot headcanons #artem wing #luke pearce #marius von hagen #vyn richter

[titan-fodder]

Pyroclastic (Mike Zacharias x Reader)

Summary: Some would argue that the park is dead, but you know better; it’s livelier than it has been in hundreds of thousands of years, a shuddering, breathing monster finally rising to its feet after an eternity of slumber. Soon, it will open its mouth in an earth-shattering scream, and then, everyone will see.

Not dead; just waking up.

Rating: E (explicit)

Word Count: ~19.5K

Warnings: slow burn, friends to lovers, Eruri, implied Mobuhan, spelling Miche ‘Mike’, swearing, fighting, lots of nerdy shit, explicit sexual content, breeding kink

A/N: This is my contribution to the Smut Pile’s Apocalypse collab. I urge everyone to check out all the pieces on the masterlist. A big thanks to @pleasantanathema​ and @whats-her-quirk​ for being about as excited about this as I was, to @shadowworks​ for always encouraging me when I take on projects too big for my own good, and to @mindninjax​ who volunteered her husband’s expertise on this. I’m pretty proud of this piece and had a blast writing and researching for it. This is by no means scientifically accurate, but I did my best to make it realistic (as in I watched Supervolcano again and spent a lot of time on the USGS website). Also, I have been to Yellowstone exactly one (1) time in my life and was terrified the entire time which is where my fixation with it comes from. 

Enjoy~

GLOSSARY

Caldera - large basin-shaped volcanic depression with a diameter many times larger than its included volcanic vents; commonly formed when magma is withdrawn or erupted from a shallow, underground magma reservoir.*

Pyroclastic flow - A hot (typically >800 °C), chaotic mixture of rock fragments, gas, and ash that travels rapidly (tens of meters per second) away from a volcanic vent or collapsing flow front.*

Tephra -  pieces of all fragments of rock ejected into the air by an erupting volcano.

VEI - The Volcanic Explosivity Index (VEI) is a relative measure of the explosiveness of volcanic eruptions.*

*definitions taken from USGS website

4  Y E A R S  B E F O R E 

Levi looks pissed when he’s on screen. He looks pissed all the time, but he looks especially pissed when he’s made to stand in front of pointed cameras and outstretched microphones. 

You can’t blame him; it’s not actually his job to deal with the press, but some years ago, Erwin had twisted his arm this way and that and convinced Levi to take over conferences.

“They understand you better,” he’d said. “You enunciate better than me. We can’t have people misunderstanding me and panicking, can we?” The blond had purposely spoken with an accent thicker than usual, and Levi had called him every name under the sun, but in the end, he’d relented, and now…

“Dr. Ackermann! Dr. Ackermann! Is it true that this has been the largest earthquake in Yellowstone since Hebgen Lake?” 

Levi squints, actually cringes at the question, then waves one of his small, bony hands. “Hebgen Lake was a major quake—7.2 on the Richter scale. This was only a 5.3, and yeah, it’s been a while since the park has had a quake larger than a three, but that doesn’t mean—”

“So, should we be worried about a supereruption?” Another reporter asks, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing as the light leaves your colleague’s eyes. 

Levi’s jaw slides, and he pauses, no doubt to think about how to answer because this is a delicate question, one that the general public always reads extremely far into. He’s good at keeping his expression blank, at least, probably another reason Erwin requested he take over interviews. 

“Listen,” he starts off, slate eyes locking onto the largest camera in front of him. “Yellowstone is a hub of seismic energy. It wouldn’t be the park we know and love today if it wasn’t shaking and letting off steam like it usually does, right?” This gains a few relieved chuckles from the crowd of journalists. 

“Was this earthquake bigger than the ones we’re used to? Yes. Are we monitoring each and every tremor that we pick up? Also, yes. So, don’t make yourself sick worryin’ about sh—stuff you can’t control. We’ll let you know if it’s time to worry.” He sucks his teeth for a second, waiting for his advice to wash over everyone, then adds, “Keep a bug-out bag packed, though. Not because of the volcano or anything. Just because… The world is crazy and so are people, and it’s always good to be prepared.”

They take it as a joke, laugh a little louder as Levi steps down from the podium, but you’ve worked with him long enough to know he had made the comment with serious intent. It’s a lot easier to fly out of town at a moment’s notice when you already have the necessities packed, and though he won't tell them all the facts this early on, there’s a chance that they will eventually have to evacuate, yes. 

“I fucking hate that big, blond bastard,” is the first thing Levi tells you when he’s within earshot, much less well-spoken in casual situations than when his face is being broadcasted. “Voht iff they dunt understahnd me, Lebi?” He mimics your boss badly then pantomimes an uppercut with a dramatic grunt. 

“Why’d you make him sound Russian?”

“I was trying to make him sound stupid ‘cause that’s what he is.”

“I have four doctorates,” Erwin states as he falls into step with both of you, finally moving from his little hiding place behind one of the news trucks. “I’m not stupid. And, I do not sound like that.”

“That’s what you think,” Levi grumbles, doing his best to shrug away from the larger man when Erwin slings an arm around his shoulders. It doesn’t work, and Levi ends up stumbling to keep up with Erwin’s longer strides, which only serves to irritate him further. 

“You looked good up there. I mean, you sounded good. Sounded sure, comforting…” 

You shake your head at Erwin’s obvious struggle to just not be the big weirdo that he is, but it sure is painful to watch sometimes. 

Governor Zachary takes over the conference, leaving the three of you to make your way inside the lodge that the emergency broadcast was set up outside of. Levi and Erwin bicker through the lobby then through the back doors that lead you to the jeep that you all swing yourselves into. 

The sky is still a little dusty with shaken sediment, and some of the park rangers are setting up barricades at the mouths of a couple hiking trails leading to what is now a moderately large crevasse that’s opened up in the Biscuit Basin. 

Other than that, the park doesn’t feel much different as you ride through it on your way back to the lab. The Summer sun brings with it your favorite 70 degree days, and if it weren’t for Erwin’s questionable driving, you’d be tempted to hang half your body out the window just to feel the warmth better. The faint smell of sulfur in the air is soothing at this point—the smell of activity, the smell of science, the smell of home. Geysers are still shooting boiling water to the skies. The mud pots are still bubbling like ominous cauldrons. That earthquake couldn’t have shaken too much out of place if all the geothermal spots are still behaving as they normally do.

The tires kick up rocks and dust as Erwin brakes dramatically outside of the base, right behind another familiar jeep that makes Levi roll his eyes. 

“Great. The boy scout’s here.” 

“Oh, be nice, you little grump,” Erwin chastises him. “Mike’s been nothing but kind to us since he started working here.”

“Yeah, except for the time he misjudged the depth of that puddle and—”

“Splashed you with mud, yeah, yeah, we know, Levi,” you finish for him as you slide out of the vehicle. “You bring it up every time you see the guy. We know.”

“And, didn’t he apologize afterward?” Erwin prompts.

Levi doesn’t answer, but you respond for him: “Profusely. Drove him back to the lab, offered him his spare change of clothes—”

“Useless,” Levi hisses. “The dude’s a giant.”

“Not his fault he’s…” You try not to sound too giddy when you step through the door and see the man in question. “Enormous.” 

You don’t know Mike very well, one of the newer park rangers but with a background in geology which leads him to your neck of the woods very often. The few conversations you have had with him have all been pleasant. He’s soft-spoken but obviously intelligent with good instincts about both the park’s weather and wildlife. 

He’s also the only ranger you’ve seen actually pull off the dorky park uniform, but that could just be because the different shades of green look good against his tan skin and bring out his light eyes. Even taller than Erwin and a little broader too, M. Zacharias (as his little, metal name tag reads) is a slab of a man, and yet, when he grins, it’s almost boyish. 

“Hey, Mike, what’s up?” You greet.

He turns his head to look at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, then offers one of the soft smiles you were hoping for. “Just came to drop off some samples for Hange.”

“Disgusting,” Levi mutters just for you to hear as he passes, and you shove him hard enough to make him stumble and flip you off. 

“How’d the press conference go?” Hange asks, tossing a small, corked flask of mud from hand to hand—what you assume to be the sample—while twirling in their computer chair. The last member of your team, Moblit Berner, glances away from the holographic model he’s studying to hear the answer. 

“I think it went well,” Erwin says. “Levi handled it like a champion, as always.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, old man,” the brunet bites out, joining Moblit next to the expensive projection table in the middle of the lab. “What’re we lookin’ at?”

“I’m just running the numbers from today’s quake. The possible effects it had underground.”

“And?”

Moblit is quiet for a beat too long.

“Mobs, what is it?” 

You, Erwin, and Hange make your way over to the table, staring at the laser-lit park model and the chamber underneath it. 

“Well, in most of the scenarios, it’s fine,” Moblit tries. “Nothing to worry about.”

“And, in the others?” 

He looks to Erwin, as everyone does in times of concern. Thick eyebrows pinched together, your boss motions to the hologram. “Show us.”

Moblit punches a few things in on the app he uses to control the model, then takes a deep breath and lets it play out for everyone to see, including Mike who slowly makes his way over, curiosity apparently getting the best of him. 

At first, nothing looks to change, just a living, breathing reenactment of what you were seeing today—every geyser, every fumarole, every little rumble, every minute rise and fall of the ground sped up to be detected with the human eye. 

And then, it stops. 

“Why did it…”

“Just watch,” Moblit shushes you. 

The outline of the ground fractures in several different places, statistics for different earthquakes blinking above. The known vents of the park—every geyser, mudpot, and fumarole—are rendered inactive, and under it all, that massive chamber everyone is always so worried about begins to bulge upward and outward, growing larger and larger until…

The map shorts out, flickering then disappearing entirely, leaving the six of you staring at the space where it was shining just seconds ago. 

“Was that…” 

Erwin inhales deeply through his nose before exhaling the word that will eventually bring the nation to its knees.

"Supereruption."

3  Y E A R S  B E F O R E

Even through the thick headset, the whir of the helicopter blades is loud, a rhythm pulsing through the air strong enough to be felt in your chest right alongside your beating heart. 

Thankfully, Mike’s deep voice is loud and clear when he speaks, nodding his head to the right, “Look down at about two o’clock.”

You follow his command, tilting your head and peering down at an empty field. 

“I don’t see anything,” you say.

The microphone hanging in front of his mouth picks up his chuckle, and the sound of it echoes in your ears, making you grin albeit a little confused. 

“Exactly. That’s a big spot for bison this time of year.”

“Then why aren’t they here?”

Mike lets the chopper hover for a while, both hands still on their respective control levers. 

“Ground’s been moving too much,” he says after a few seconds of silent staring. You’d known the answer already but hearing the wildlife expert confirm it fills you with a little more dread than you’d originally harbored. “They feel things we don’t, the tiny quakes, the tremors. Stuff you only think the seismograph picks up—they feel all of it.”

“They know what’s coming,” you say more to yourself than to him. 

Mike offers you one of those charming, close-lipped smiles. “When in doubt, trust the animals.” 

A line you’ve heard him say a few times now. Mike loves everything that lives in the park, from all the common lake trout and sand cranes to the endangered grizzly bears and gray wolves. 

Trust the animals, he says. Because he trusts them. Because he loves them. 

“You wanna fly over the Grand Prismatic?” Mike asks, pulling you from your thoughts, and when you look over, you find your reflection in his mirrored aviators as he stares at you. 

His mouth quirks up at the corners, causing yours to do the same, and you nod. “Yeah, always.”

It’s your favorite view in the park, the colorful spring from up above. Mike had learned that a few months ago, and now whenever you ride in the chopper with him, he makes sure to pass over the beautiful attraction just for you.

Nearly 200° Fahrenheit with a pH of 8.7, the pool, while still dangerous due to its temperature, is one of the more moderate dangers of the national park, tame in comparison to the Norris Geyser Basin with temperatures up to 459° (a thousand meters below the surface, anyway) and a pH of about two. It’s dissolved bones—human bones. And, would claim even more if given the chance. 

You suppose that’s expected for a basin that’s sitting over a chamber of 1,500° molten magma. 

The Grand Prismatic is just as stunning today as it is every other. Its outer orange and yellow rings darken to greens and blues the further inward you look, thick steam rising from all over but more condensed over the middle. 

It was one of the park's biggest attractions, tourists flocking to the spring with their cameras, too stricken by the vivid chromaticism to listen or read about the temperatures and microbials that are responsible for the colors in the first place. 

As you hover above now, just to the side of the steam, your heart aches. There are no ignorant tourists to take pictures of the pool, the boardwalks and trails to these hot spots now blocked off once it became apparent that the earthquake that took place last year was not the last of its kind. Your team as well as the park rangers went to the park board as a unit and suggested that tourists needed to be kept away from as many geothermal features as possible, all of you with the same fear in mind: someone (or many someones) falling in. 

It's always been a risk, but now, with weekly rumblings, that risk has multiplied exponentially. All it takes is someone losing their footing on the boardwalk over the Norris Geyser Basin for serene sightseeing to turn into tragedy, and that's on a good day. Throw a 5.7 earthquake into the mix, and the park could lose an entire tour group to the heat and acid. 

It's just not a risk any of you are willing to take anymore. 

Most of the park remains open. Old Faithful continues to draw people in by the thousands. They sit and watch boiling water shoot into the sky every hour or so, clapping happily at the sight, unaware of the way you and your team hold your breath in wait, hoping for the geyser to go off on its usual schedule. 

One day it will stop. One day they'll all stop. And, then… 

"I can't believe it's all gonna be gone one day," you muse, blinking down at the prismatic pool for as long as Mike will let you. 

"Nah," the man disagrees. "Not gone. Buried, yeah, but not gone."

You snort, turn back to him with a grin and roll your eyes. "Yeah, no big deal. Just miles of pyroclast and ash, probably snow when we get thrust into another ice age 'cause of the crazy climate swing..."

"Alright, alright, I get it. The sun dimeth and the land sinketh."

"Gusheth forth steam and gutting fire," you continue grimly.

Mike turns the helicopter back toward the landing zone, saying nothing else and leaving you to take in the sights below. You're grateful for the silence; it's good for processing, for preparation. 

And, you're grateful for Mike, one of your best friends at this point—soft and kind despite his intimidating stature, smart as a whip, and just as stunning, if not more so, than the Grand Prismatic. 

"Any idea what you'll do afterward?" He asks, holding a hand out to you to help you from your seat in the chopper. 

"Not really. Survive, I guess." 

You land just a little too close to him, your face nearly coming in direct contact with his broad chest, but Mike steps back just in time, making you extend your arm, still connected at the fingers, before he drops your hand. 

"A feat all on its own," he says flatly, but he perks up as you both begin walking to the park ranger base. "Maybe you'll find another team to work on."

"I don't want to find another team," you tell him honestly. "This is my team. This is my home."

Mike hums, an understanding little sound, body warm when he gently bumps into you on the gravel pathway to the lodge. "Yeah, I know."

A geophysics major at UCLA with a specific interest in volcanology, getting to intern with the Erwin Smith at the Yellowstone supervolcano had been a dream come true. You'd expected to gain knowledge and experience—nothing more and nothing less. You'd lived out here for one summer during your graduate program, clocking the field experience you needed to get your degree and taking in everything you could. 

Back then, it felt like all you did was ask questions and get in the way. By the end of that summer, you knew every variation of Levi Ackermann's irritated sighs, every different pitch of Hange Zoe's shouts and how they correlated with their experiments. Moblit had been the newest permanent addition and was even more nervous than he is now, trying and failing to keep up with Hange (which he's much better at doing these days). 

They were all fantastic, but it had been the lead researcher who'd reeled you in. You'd never met anyone as passionate as Dr. Erwin Smith, captivated by the monster underneath the park and thrilled to share his brain with anyone willing to hold their hands out for it. Hell, he'd even helped you with your Master's thesis—hydrothermally altered mineralized systems and their seismic reflections. 

When you graduated, the Yellowstone team was the first you reached out to and the first you heard back from. Erwin said you'd been a perfect fit even as a student (which you hadn't exactly believed but definitely blushed at anyway). Mobs, Hange, and even Levi seemed happy to have you back. It was like you were meant to be here. In this park. With all of them. 

Studying the volcano and all of its properties has always been like breathing to you—natural and necessary. You move when it moves, every shake and tremor a heartbeat in your own chest, every shooting geyser like blood in your veins. The mudpots are your bubbling emotions, the fumaroles, your sense of building pressure and release.

You feel at home in the park because you trust it. Because you love it. 

You don't have room for another team in your heart, but as you walk inside the lodge next to Mike, watching as he takes off his sunglasses and grins at one of the other rangers, you think you at least have room for one more person. 

2  Y E A R S  B E F O R E

The lab has two extra bodies in it—two extra unwelcome bodies who keep getting in your way and touching things as they ask questions that no one has the answers to yet.

“When did you say this was going to happen?” The rotund state governor, Dhalis Zachary, asks for the second time since arriving, picking up a sample test tube that Moblit immediately plucks from his hand with a nervous smile.

“As I said before, it’s difficult to place a concrete timeline on an event like this,” Erwin tells the white-haired man. “We don’t exactly have in depth records of the last three eruptions, so all we have to go off of is the earth itself and our simulations.”

At the edge of the projection table, Nile Dok, FEMA director, cautiously waves a hand through the holographic model displayed in front of him. He obviously doesn’t think anyone is watching him because the slender man jumps in surprise when you snort at your desk, and his angular cheekbones take on a pink tint of embarrassment from having been caught.

He clears his throat, straightens the knot that sits over it, then turns to face Erwin and prompts, “Three eruptions before. One was a lot bigger than the others, though, right?”

Erwin nods. “Huckleberry Ridge. Over two million years ago.”

“We’re hoping—if a supereruption is to occur—it’ll be closer to the size of Mesa Falls,” you pipe up.

“Which one was that?” Zachary asks.

“One-point-three million years ago, two-hundred-and-eighty cubic kilometers of erupted materials…” Levi lists off as he makes his way over to the table with a sanitary wipe in hand. He doesn’t like people in his space, doesn’t like strangers in the lab, even (especially) government officials (“They leave fingerprints, and they breathe on everything, and they waste our fucking time.”).

“Two-hundred-and-eighty cubic kilometers… That’s the best-case scenario?” Zachary looks to Erwin, eyebrows raised high over his wire glasses.

Erwin stares at him for a moment, contemplating the best and easiest way to explain this to someone who has no real experience in the field. Eventually, he settles on, “Moblit, can you run some simulations for me?”

“Of course, sir,” the mousy scientist agrees, phone in hand and pulling up the app before the boss can even finish speaking.

Everyone gathers around the table except for Levi who steps away from it, grumbling under his breath about coming back to clean it later. He at least hits the lights, making the model easier to see as Erwin starts listing off numbers and scenarios.

“The best case, actually, is only one vent opening, maybe two. It would be something comparable to Mount St. Helen’s, though probably a bit bigger, say point-five cubic kilometers of material. It would be necessary to evacuate the park and this region of the state at the very least.”

Zachary hums, “And, how likely is that?”

Erwin shrugs. “Hard to say right now. As the earthquakes increase, though, the likelihood of a small eruption like that, uh, dwindles.”

“Small,” Nile scoffs.

Zachary makes a similar noise, slightly louder, a little more offended, then rattles off, “Mount St. Helen’s killed almost sixty people. The blast, the ash, the lahars—” as if you don’t all already know.

“No one’s discounting the damage of the eruption,” Levi cuts him off. “But, if you’re sweatin’ at those numbers, all due respect, Governor, I don’t know if you’re ready to stomach the rest of this little light show.”

The older man cuts his eyes at Levi who squints right back at him, only turn and shuffle over to his desk when Erwin waves him further away, a silent way of saying ‘keep your smart mouth away from the authority figures’.

“Moving on,” you cough, twirling a finger to get both Erwin and Mobs to continue.

“Yes,” Erwin nods. “So, any eruption is dependent on how much magma in the chamber is eruptible magma. Just because it’s there doesn’t mean it will come out.”

Moblit punches in a few numbers to show what a small-scale eruption would look like, first with one vent then with two.

“With just that amount, even with two vents, it isn’t enough to completely destabilize the chamber.”

“And, destabilizing it would be… bad…” Nile states more than asks, brown eyes lit up by the model in front of him.

“No shit,” everyone hears Levi grumble from his desk, and Erwin huffs and looks at you, expression a little exasperated as he jerks a thumb back toward the grumpy man in yet another one of his silent motions— a plea in this case—'go take care of him’ which you do.

Levi is slumped in his computer chair, arms crossed over his chest as he peers over his desktop at the four men gathered around the hologram.

“Should’a just gone with Hange and the boy scout to collect samples when I had the chance,” he mutters.

“You hate collecting samples, especially sulfur samples. Which is what they’re getting now.”

“Yeah, well I hate these guys even more.” He says it quietly enough so that they won’t be able to hear, and even if they could, both Governor Zachary and Nile are too invested in the information that the scientists are giving them to pay attention to anything else.

“What’d they ever do to you?” You push, curious now because sure, Levi has always been the surliest of the team, but it’s rare that he’s surly and loud about it.

“Nothing. They have done nothing because they don’t belong here. They have no idea—no fucking idea—what’s about to happen.” You can hear his frustration even through his whispers. “Best case scenarios? Why are we even going over those? We know damn well that we’re not looking at one or two vents. And, we’re not lookin’ at Mesa Falls either.”

Letting out a long breath, you lean against Levi’s desk, ignoring the way he grunts in protest.

“I know. I’m sure Erwin and Moblit will prep them for the worst case.”

“There’s no prepping for it,” Levi hisses, gray eyes flashing. “We’re talking about—"

“…A nationwide cataclysmic event.” Both of you register Erwin’s voice at the same time and glance at the other group to find them staring at the lit-up simulation of the Huckleberry Ridge eruption.

“Which would pretty quickly turn into a worldwide problem,” Moblit adds quietly.

“Worldwide?” You hear Nile question in a low but very alarmed tone. “Because of the ash?”

“Well, yes, but, it’s not just ash,” Erwin clarifies, diving into his explanation of tephra and how dangerous it is. He reminds the men how far it traveled after the Mount St. Helen’s eruption since they’ve apparently latched onto that one, then challenges, “Now imagine an eruption about… six hundred times that size.”

“Six…” Nile swallows, turning his entire, slender frame toward Erwin and repeating, “Six hundred times bigger? That’s what we’re expecting?”

In his little rolling chair, Levi’s chest puffs a bit, finally satisfied that the gravity of the situation is beginning to set in. “Maybe they aren’t as dumb as they look.”

Erwin is about to say something, right hand lifted with his index finger extended in a very matter-of-fact way, but before he can manage to get anything out, the door to the lab swings open and Hange walks in, Mike just behind them carrying all the collected samples in what almost looks like a lunchbox.

“We’re back—” Hange stops, taking in their surroundings, the lack of lights, the bright projection, the grim energy, then shouts, “Hey, get some Pink Floyd playing! Like a planetarium in here! Is there anybody in there? Just nod if you can hear me…”

“Dr. Zoe,” Moblit clears his throat. “We were just going over the utter devastation a supereruption could wreak on the country.”

“Oh, were you?” Hange pauses, brow rising, lips puckering into a sour expression. “My bad.”

Raising a hand to your forehead, you laugh to yourself for a few seconds before shaking the untimely amusement off and making your way over to Mike to take the sample kit from him.

“Careful,” he warns jokingly as he passes it off. “Got some very fragile gas and mud in there.”

“Yeah?” You tease. “So, I shouldn’t, like, shake it or anything?”

“Definitely should not shake it. Here, here, just—” He takes it back, grinning broadly as he tells you, “I think it’s best if you let a professional handle such dangerous compounds.”

All the doom-and-gloom you had been feeling mere seconds ago evaporates entirely, and you let out a frankly embarrassing giggle as you watch Mike very carefully set the samples down on Hange’s lab table, making a show of securing them and whispering a final, “Stay,” so that you clamp a hand over your mouth.

Levi groans in disgust, and, at the same time, Erwin mutters an apology to Zachary and Nile for, “… employing a team of children.”

Your face heats in embarrassment, but it doesn’t keep you from smiling at Mike when he saunters back over, looking rather sheepish himself.

“Lunchtime soon, right?”

“Yeah, in a bit—”

“Please go now, for the love of God,” Erwin sighs. “And, take Levi and Hange with you.”

None of you need telling twice, quickly grabbing wallets and home-packed meals before rushing from the lab before your boss decides to murder one or all of you.

Levi steers Hange toward his car, leaving you alone with Mike which you don’t mind in the slightest. You take most of your lunches with him anyway, some of your breakfasts and dinners too, so this is simply part of your daily routine.

“I’ve got some sandwiches packed already. Wanna hit Mount Haynes?” He suggests, sliding into the driver’s seat of his jeep.

You point a fingergun at him and nod. “I like the way you think, sir.”

He takes a very specific route, avoiding any damaged areas, having to veer off of the actual road at a certain point to take a safer path he and other rangers have made. You watch the mountains of the park grow closer and closer, what you know to be the ridge of Yellowstone’s caldera looming nearer.

Mike parks at the base of your intended destination then reaches into the backseat to grab the aforementioned lunch. You have no intentions of actually hiking to the top of the mountain—don’t have the time or the will, honestly—but as soon as the two of you have worked up a sweat and are at a decent enough elevation to look out on the park underneath, you drop to the dusty ground and take it all in.

Even from this distance, you can see some of the gases and steam in the air. That’s the only movement there is, though, save for the occasional ranger vehicle zipping along. The land seems almost barren at this point. The grass is still green. The sun is still bright as it is every Summer.

But, there are no animals, no tourists, no real life. Instead, it’s been replaced with cracks and crevasses, with barricades and warning signs.

Trail Closed

Road Closed

Danger: Keep Out

It’s been almost six months since the park decided to shut down to the public, and if you’re being honest, it should have closed its doors long before. It took people dying to bring the board to their senses, an earthquake that shook the ground for minutes, the crust of the earth splitting right under the historical lodge that so many loved.

Fourteen casualties. Twenty-nine injured.

That’s what it took.

You barely recognize the park now, feel like the last endangered species left within its boundaries. It’s just the research team, some of the rangers, and the occasional outside visitor (board members, government officials, or press that gets waved away).

Some would argue that the park is dead, but you know better; it’s livelier than it has been in hundreds of thousands of years, a shuddering, breathing monster finally rising to its feet after an eternity of slumber. Soon, it will open its mouth in an earth-shattering scream, and then, everyone will see.

Not dead; just waking up.

“You look tired.” Mike’s voice may as well be carried by the breeze, light and low, refreshing as it passes over you, and you flash him a smile while nodding.

“Exhausted.”

He grabs a sandwich from the lunchbox, and you fish hand sanitizer from one of the many pockets on your pants, squirting it into your hand first then holding it out to the man beside you.

“Seems like you spend more time here than at your apartment.”

“Oh, most definitely.” You unwrap what looks to be turkey and pepper-jack and try to ignore the way your stomach flips at the fact that it’s your favorite simple-sandwich-combo and that Mike remembered. “Lot to do in the lab. Obviously.” You take a bite—no mustard, only mayo—and feel some of the tension between your shoulder blades begin to unwind.

“Figure you wouldn’t want it any other way, though,” Mike comments before chomping into his own sandwich.

“Right you are. I mean, end of the world, potentially. Scary stuff, but also…” You swallow, lick your lips and stare out at the landscape in front of you as you grapple with words. “It’s like… I’m terrified, but I feel like I’m exactly where I need to be. Like…”

This is how I’m supposed to go out, you almost say, but you’re smart to keep it to yourself. That’s a thought for you and you alone, one you haven’t shared with anyone because nobody else would understand except maybe Erwin.

“This is what you’re meant to do,” Mike supplies, and you look over at him. “This is what you love. I get that.”

And, he’s right. But, the park and volcanology—those aren’t the only things you love.

Mike sits there, legs crossed like an overgrown kindergartener, shaggy hair blowing in the wind, light green eyes so, incredibly warm and bright, and it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, like your lungs and throat are already full of ash that hasn’t fallen yet, tight with dying declarations you can’t bring yourself to make.

“Have you ever heard of Katia and Maurice Krafft?” You ask, and yes, your voice does feel somewhat strangled, the space behind your eyes burning just a little hotter than usual.

Mike shakes his head, takes another bite, and gives you his undivided attention.

“They were these French volcanologists who got really famous for the pictures and footage they took of erupting volcanoes. The recordings they got for the community were—I mean, they were pioneers. They changed the game. There’s photos and videos of them just—” you gesture nebulously with both your hands, nearly flinging your sandwich off the side of the mountain and making Mike reach out and catch your wrist before you can.

“Please, no feeding the park’s wildlife, ma’am,” he jokes easily, and you have to shove the sandwich into your mouth to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl. Mike shows the smallest of satisfied smiles, completely unaware of his own charm, and it’s maddening and intoxicating, and it’s all you can do to keep talking about the brave scientists.

“Anyway,” you continue. “Katia would get, like, within feet of lava flows. Just walkin’ right beside ‘em in her special heat suit. And, they’d wear protective helmets because of, you know—”

“Explosions. Falling rocks.”

 “Yeah, exactly. They were just there, documenting it all happening, nerves of fucking steel. Katia was usually the one gathering samples and stuff while Maurice recorded, but he was right in the thick of it too. This badass couple learning and adventuring together.”

Mike eventually questions, “What happened to them?” but you’re sure he knows the answer when you deflate a bit.

“Mount Unzen eruption—got caught in the pyroclastic flow. Died instantly.”

“At least they were doing what they loved,” he says, and you nod.

You’re silent for a while, neither of you eating but both of you staring. You think about the Kraffts often, especially now with Yellowstone’s imminent eruption. Doing what they loved… They died for their research, and though you never got the chance to meet them or even speak with anyone who has met them, you have a feeling they wouldn’t have wanted it to happen any other way.

“Just so you know,” Mike gets your attention, and when you look over at him, your heart swells.

The sun is reflected in his eyes, making light green glow with more than just warmth and sincerity, and god, you’re so in love with him, you can feel it in your bone marrow. You ache for him, you pine for him, and you want to live for him, but how…

“I’d film you walking next to a lava flow,” he tells you. Despite the little smile playing at his lips, you know he isn’t kidding.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you have to look away before any actually fall, but your sniffle definitely gives you away. You swear internally, berating yourself for getting emotional in front of Mike, though you can’t say you’re too surprised. Your stress levels have been through the roof, working non-stop for months now, the government breathing down your neck. People have died and the park is literally fracturing before your eyes, and you’re not ready to see it end—to see everything as you know it come to an end.

“Pretty dusty up here,” Mike comments while nudging you. You find him holding out a handkerchief, letting you take it then turning his gaze forward again to allow you a little privacy to dab at your eyes.

Mike has senses beyond the normal human spectrum. He has a sense for weather unlike anyone you’ve ever seen before, from thunderstorms and tornadoes to record snowfall and, on a few occasions, earthquakes. You can still vividly remember being in the lab the day of the fatal quake that damaged the hotel, seeing Mike suddenly look at the seismogram seconds before it started picking up the first tremors. Levi had called it “freakish”, but you had called him “incredible”.

It’s not just the weather, though. Mike has a way with people and animals too, like he can gauge their emotions and act appropriately. It’s how he knows what days he can push Levi’s buttons and get away with it, how he knows when Hange is too busy and overwhelmed to gather samples themself, so he gathers some for them.

And, it’s how he knows exactly when he needs to pull you into a hug, like when the team realized the chances of a small to moderate eruption were next to nothing, like when he had told you how many of those hotel guests had gotten hurt and died and you’d stared at him with wide, watery eyes, and like right now, as you think about Katia and Maurice Krafft, the fate they met and how yours might not be any different.

Will you die doing what you love? Will you be able to welcome it as bravely as they did?

You rest your head on Mike’s shoulder, letting yourself melt into his side, his arm sturdy and grounding where it wraps around you, and as you look out over the sunlit grounds, one last question plagues your mind:

Does a pyroclastic flow burn as hot as the molten feelings inside of you?

You can’t imagine anything does.

1  Y E A R  B E F O R E

The message is broadcasted straight from the state capitol, Levi's expression grim as he reads off the paper hidden on the podium. 

"I know all of this sounds apocalyptic—the ash and blackouts and probable climate change, and it is scary, but we still have some time, so there's no reason to panic. We just urge that if you haven't already started preparing, now's the time. Please."

A couple steps behind him and a little to the right is Erwin, standing tall and nodding at everything Levi says as if he's providing some kind of credibility. 

"Considering we're looking at a VEI eight, the team of volcanologists at Yellowstone have recommended that all of Wyoming and its neighboring states evacuate, but I'll let Homeland Security go over all that."

As he turns to step back, the crowd of reporters and journalists begin shouting out questions, and Levi grimaces as he moves to stand next to Erwin who places a hand in his shoulder. 

You can't hear everything being asked from where you're watching at the lab, but you can't imagine it's anything good judging by the way Levi's frown just keeps growing. 

Fortunately, the vaguely familiar secretary of Homeland Security, Dot Pixis, takes the stand quickly, holding up wrinkled hands in an attempt to calm the crowd. 

"We have some more very important information to cover in this address, so if you'll allow me…" He clears his throat and straightens a stack of papers on the podium, no doubt a huge list of protocols that the public will only half listen to. 

You swivel back and forth in your chair as you watch the thin man on screen, his voice scratchy but strangely soothing as he outlines rationing, supply storage, and evacuation routes. 

"We're also negotiating with our neighboring countries about opening borders. Now, anyone seeking refuge would still be required to fill out an application for a temporary visa, but—"

"God, you know they gotta love that," you mumble to yourself. 

Hange, tinkering somewhere behind you, laughs and agrees, "Yeah, after decades of treating immigrants like trash, and now we're just knocking on their doors, asking for help. Ridiculous."

"Embarrassing, is what it is." 

It was for whichever government official had to make that call, anyway. You're positive that had been a hard pill to swallow. 

As far as you've heard, the foreign affairs part of this mess is actually going quite well. You'd accompanied Erwin to the big meeting with Canadian officials and watched him and Pixis plead a case for America, emphasizing just how bad the eruption will be "at home", then switched tactics at whiplash speed to go into how countries needed to work together since this wouldn't just be the US's problem in the long run. 

It turned into a rather inspiring speech, if you're being honest, prompted you to text Levi a short, how is E so damn charming all the time? to which he'd responded, Believe me, you're asking the wrong fuckin guy. 

With multiple government agencies now backing the states and setting plans in motion, the impending eruption seems even more real. You thought your stress levels were high before, that your sleep pattern left little to be desired, but oh, you had been wrong. 

Case in point being Mike walking into the lab with a brown paper bag and slightly unpleasant expression as he asks, "Have you eaten today?" 

Your glare has no real meaning as you grumble, "Had a granola bar this morning."

"It's nearly six," he groans, pushing you, chair and all, up to your desk and setting the bag in front of you. "Please eat something before you pass out."

"Okay, okay, Christ. You're more attentive than my mother."

"I met your mom last year, and you and I both know she would be hysterical if she knew how you've been treating yourself lately."

He has a point. In fact, you're glad Mike is naturally quiet and didn't bond too strongly with her, otherwise you have a feeling he would have called her by now to complain. 

The chicken salad sandwich you bite into must be imbued with some kind of magic, because you let out an honest to god moan when you swallow the first bite. 

"Oh my god, what did you put in this?" You ask as you blink up at your best friend. 

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. "Uh, actual nutrients maybe? Weird how your body needs those."

Hands too busy shoving more food into your mouth, you headbutt him right at the hip, just hard enough to make him grunt and sway. He steadies himself, glances down at you like he's annoyed but ends up breaking into a grin when he catches what you assume to be a piece of chicken salad dotting the corner of your mouth. 

"What am I gonna do with you," he mumbles, wiping it with a gentle thumb. 

Your body warms with both embarrassment and affection, but you can't quite find a response even as your head clears for the first time in about two days. You really do need to start taking better care of yourself. 

The undeniable feeling of being watched makes your neck prickle, and you break Mike's gaze to find Hange staring at both of you, a not-so-subtle smile making their mouth curl mischievously. You have a pretty good idea of what they're thinking, and you're heart starts beating a little faster at the thought of them possibly speaking it out loud, but before they get a chance, Mike's phone rings. 

You catch a glimpse of the name displayed before he picks it up—Gelgar—recognize it and tease, "One of the doomsday preppers, right?" 

Because no matter how much Mike denies it, just like he does now— "They're not doomsday preppers—" you know that his friends are a little odd. Extremely well prepared, but odd. 

"Hey man, what's up?" He answers, stepping away from you. "Isn't it almost two there?" 

You don't try to listen in, just look back to Hange and shake your head when their smile grows. 

"Stop."

"What?" They giggle. "I'm not even doing anything!" 

"You're thinking things, though."

"Well yeah, I'm always thinking things. How else would I have gotten this smart?" They flip their ponytail for emphasis and toss a wink your way, but Hange's voice gets oddly sincere when they tell you, "Seriously, though. You guys should get while the getting's good. I don't know why you haven't jumped each other's bones yet."

You splutter, look around frantically to make sure Mike isn't within earshot, and thank god, he's in the next room over. 

"Hange!" 

"I'm just saying! It's like watching Erwin and Levi from a few years ago. God, that was a nightmare."

"How dare you. I am nothing like—"

"Yeah, yeah. When do they get back in anyway?" 

You both look to the TV that's still playing the live address, easily spotting your missing team members behind Secretary Pixis. 

"Probably not 'til later tonight. Levi's gonna try to talk Erwin into getting a hotel, I bet, but he's gonna wanna come back to the lab and check everything before he goes to bed."

"How do you know he wants to come back?" 

You show a sheepish grin, fishing the chips out of the paper sack Mike brought, then answer, "'Cause that’s what I’d wanna do."

*

It's late. Far too late to be at work, but being at home never feels right these days. It's too quiet, too still, too not the lab. The only time you genuinely enjoy being there is when friends are over for a movie or meal over the weekend. Other than that, you're not at all attached. 

Not the way you are here.

Almost midnight, you move from table to table, working, organizing, just keeping busy. You're very awake, still jittery from the quake that shook the park at around three that day. It lasted for almost three minutes, splitting the ground dangerously close to Old Faithful, and the geyser hasn't gone off since which is troubling. If too many of the geothermal spots stop releasing pressure, the eruption will take place sooner than anticipated. 

It's why you're here so late, pouring over the data, studying the numbers and possible effects. 

You're not alone, though. Erwin is also shuffling around the lab, but he's focused on something else, a project of sorts. 

"Can you come take a look at this?" He calls from the projection table, and you drop what you're doing to join him. 

The model isn't lit up as a hologram, surprisingly. Instead, Erwin has paper blueprints laid, curling at the edges from being rolled up. It takes you a second to realize what you're looking at, but when it comes together, you inhale sharply. 

It's a simple design, a square floorplan with a couple entrances. The only exit looks to lead upward, though, and it's easy to tell that means Erwin wants this to be underground. There are notes scribbled in the blank spaces, 4 meters down, bomb proof top, ventilation, generators, gasoline?, rations < 5yrs, medicine, vitamins, guns. The list goes on, handwriting sloppier and sloppier the more thoughts Erwin had at the time. 

"You think this would be ready in a year?"

Erwin shrugs. "With the right construction team, yes. That one bunker designer…" Erwin snaps, trying to think of the name, but it doesn't come to him. "Whoever—He built ten shelters in two years." 

You stick your hands in your back pockets as you lean over to look closer. It could just be your overworked brain, but it looks like a good design, something someone actually has a chance of surviving in. 

Hearing your name makes you look up again. Erwin has you pinned with one of his serious blue gazes. "No one else will understand, so please keep this plan to yourself."

You nod but venture to ask, "You haven't told Levi?" 

"No," he answers, mouth pulling downward. "It's… Going to be a fight."

"Understandably so. You're basically married to the volcano, though, Erwin."

"So are you."

His eyes are shining as your lips twist into a grimace. He's gotten to know you well over the years. You've always shared a certain bond over Yellowstone, one the other team members just don't have. To them, it's just a job, just science. 

To you and Erwin, though, it's a religion. You're in love with the park, all its secrets and eccentricities. It's your home; it's where you belong. 

"Assuming this does get built," Erwin starts, lifting a thick eyebrow in curiosity. "You would want to stay, right?" 

"You mean, ride out a supereruption? Be the first to see the zone-one damage?" 

Erwin doesn't answer, but he does smile, excitement dancing just below the surface of his stare. 

You feel it too, the urge to throw caution to the wind, to take a chance that could very possibly get you both killed. The Kraffts flash through your mind again, their failed attempt at escape.

A breathless, "Fuck yeah," tumbles from your mouth before you can dwell on the consequences for too long. 

It's time to either live it up or go down in ash and flames. 

6  M O N T H S  B E F O R E 

Yellowstone is unrecognizable. The ground is mostly made up of large crevasses and smaller cracks, debris from fallen buildings left in piles with no one to clean them up. 

The geysers are all inactive at this point, but steam is still rising from the springs, and the mudpots are still bubbling. It's the only thing that's keeping the volcano from erupting. 

The ground shakes multiple times a day, the lab seismographs constantly picking up activity. The little ones don't faze you anymore. You and Mike secure the glass samples to make sure they don't break while Erwin and Levi basically hug their computers. Yours was damaged in the quake that prompted Hange and Moblit to leave—a 6.7 that caused Hange to fall into their desk, breaking their collarbone in the process. After getting Hange pain meds and a sling, the two of them were on a plane to D.C. that same night. 

Every day is another risk taken. Now, it's just you, Erwin, Levi, and Mike. 

The latter two spend most of their days dropping hints about leaving soon as well. Mike has already made plans to fly to Norway and join his not-doomsday prepper friends and brings it up often.

"You should come. See the tulip fields while they're still around."

"Gel and Nana have done a great job setting up the ranch. They wanna let as many people stay as they can." 

"You'd really like them. They bicker like an old married couple, but they're good people."

Levi takes a different approach with Erwin, appeals to the other man's desire to help and protect. 

"We really should head to the homeland security office. They don't know what they're dealing with."

"Dok is an idiot. They need a bigger brain over there for guidance or whatever."

"Your long-term plan will be better than anything those government fucks will come up with anyway."

Every time, you and Erwin gently wave them off with promises of "soon" and "just a little longer." Neither of you breathe a word about staying. Despite the fact that construction on the bunker has not started and you're running out of time, both of you are dead set on the plan: go down with the park. 

You're found out before it can come to fruition, however. 

The remaining team is sitting in the lab, busy with their own little projects, when Mike looks up suddenly, takes a deep breath, then says, "Earthquake," just as the seismogram starts going wild. 

He pulls you from your chair quickly, dropping to the ground and bringing you with him to crawl under your desk. On your knees, your body curls in on itself and you lock your hands over the back of your neck as the floor beneath you starts to rumble violently. 

You can hear Levi cursing from somewhere as the sound of glass shattering rings throughout the lab. You think another computer falls, models and books flying from shelves. 

Mike huddles over you, one hand gripping the leg of the desk while the other protects your ribs. You want to tell him to shield himself, but you know there's no use. Besides, the weight and warmth is comforting even in the face of danger—his chest hot against your back, the epitome of a knight in shining armor. 

It lasts for several minutes. The power cuts off, windows crack, doors swing open only to slam shut again. You know the lab is going to be an absolute wreck when it's over. 

When the shaking finally settles, everyone crawls out of their hiding places. Levi warns, "Be ready for aftershocks," as if you don't know, and Erwin fumbles in his desk until he finds a flashlight. 

The ray of light illuminates the damage. Just as you suspected, the place looks like a tornado blew through. Glass litters the floor along with the far-flung books and park models. Both Levi and Erwin's computers fell and disconnected, and your stomach drops as you think about all the potentially lost information. 

"You okay?" Mike asks, pulling you up to your knees so he can look at your face. 

"I'm fine," you tell him, his hands on your cheeks making you flush, so you distract yourself. "E, Levi, you guys okay?" 

"Yes," Erwin answers first. 

Levi shows his face, a deep frown making his brow furrow, as he looks at his desktop. "I'm pissed but uninjured."

The four of you spend the next couple of hours cleaning up what you can, pausing and taking cover when the aftershocks hit, then starting over as the lab sustains more and more damage. 

Mike sweeps up the glass. Erwin focuses on getting the computers back on the desks safely then goes and checks the projection table. You and Levi collect the bigger items, setting books back on shelves. 

You don't think about the mistake before it's too late, when Levi is already pulling out the blueprints that were hidden behind the stack of encyclopedias. 

As he stills completely, you turn to look at him and find him staring down at the large, uncurled papers. Your instinct is to snatch them from his hands, but it's no use. He's already seen enough. 

"What the fuck is this?" His voice comes out like poison as he immediately looks at Erwin. 

The larger man glances at Levi, eyes trailing to what he's holding, then pales. 

"Levi..."

"Is this a god damn bunker? Are you planning on staying in this hellscape?" 

Erwin strides over to him and reaches for the prints, but Levi tugs them out of reach. 

"Answer me," he spits. "Is that your plan?"

"I—" Erwin swallows thickly before answering, "Yes."

It's silent for a long time, and the more it drags on, the tighter Levi's lips get, gray eyes shiny with quiet rage. 

This is what Erwin was trying to avoid, why he insisted on keeping the bunker a secret. 

But while Levi is glaring at Erwin, you feel another gaze on you. Skin crawling, you chance a glance up at Mike, stomach churning when he looks away quickly and bites his lips. He knows. Somehow without anyone saying anything, Mike knows you’re planning to stay too.

Heavy breathing and the distant sound of rumbling earth is all that can be heard, followed by backup generators roaring to life and restoring the overhead lights. 

"You too?" Mike finally speaks. “You wanna stay too?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, unable to answer. He sounds so disappointed—defeated—and it makes you feel sick. 

"Do you guys know," Levi growls, "How fucking insane that is? This is the dumbest, most reckless, selfish fucking thing you could do! And, I know it's all your thinking!" He drops the blueprints in favor of shoving Erwin roughly, making him stumble back. 

"Hey," you step toward him, but the small man just turns to you and accuses, "And, you egged him on, yeah? Did you even think of us? How we would feel? Staying here is suicide!"

"I have a plan, Levi," Erwin says, raising both hands to his head and effectively disheveling his own hair. "If you just look at the plans. I know what we need to survive. I've done the math, I've studied the—"

"Jesus Christ, we're talking about an eight hundred degree pyroclastic flow! Tephra that will suffocate you. You really think being a few meters down during the eruption will be enough?" Levi is screaming now, his voice cracking, and you think you see tears at his waterline. 

It makes the spaces behind your eyes burn, but it’s only partly out of guilt. The other emotion that’s welling up in you is anger, a betrayal you can barely wrap your head around, but it comes tumbling out anyway.

“Do you even know us? You think we can actually leave the park behind?” Your voice rises to match Levi’s, gains his acidic attention once again. “I don’t even understand how you can run away, after everything you’ve put into this place! How can you just—” You let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a cry as you raise your hands to your face and shove your palms to your eyes. “I get Mike because he doesn’t have anything fucking left here. He’s just been helping out—”

“You think I don’t have anything left here?” He asks quietly from beside you, and when you look at him with a watery stare, you find him wounded. His jaw slides forward as he sucks on his teeth, and fuck, his eyes are getting glossy too. 

“See, this is exactly what I mean,” Levi gestures wildly at the two of you. “Mike and I have stayed because you guys won’t fucking leave, and now it comes out that you were never planning to. When were you gonna tell us? Would you have even given us enough time to get out?”

“Of course!” Erwin takes him by the shoulders, and Levi snarls up at him. “I was working up to it. I wasn’t ready to—to deal with this.”

“I can’t believe this. You really think a whole team of workers is gonna come out here to help build this? You wanna put their lives in jeopardy too?”

“We—”

“You haven’t even thought this through all the way! When did you come up with this? When you hadn’t slept or eaten in forty-eight hours? When your brain wasn’t fucking functioning at full capacity?”

Erwin stays quiet, and so do you because Levi has a point. Taking care of yourselves physically has not been high on either of your lists of priorities, and you’re sure your mental state has suffered for it. All the nights spent at the projection table, mapping out ideas, growing giddy over the idea of staying for the eruption. Was that just two people high off passion, becoming more and more unhinged with each passing day?

Quite possibly. 

You expect the fury to be enough to push Levi away, that he’ll simply give up, drag Mike out with him, and leave you and Erwin to hunker down like you’d planned.

But, that is not the case. 

Instead, he shoves a thin finger into Erwin’s chest, gritting out, “Pack your fucking bags so we can go to D.C. where they need you.”

Erwin takes a breath then slumps in defeat. Now, when faced with the obstacle that is his boyfriend, you figure he’s weighed the pros and cons and made a decision. Between his love for the park and his love for Levi, he’d rather salvage the latter. 

Mike shifts next to you, grumbles out a low, “You too,” that makes the tears finally fall from your eyes. “I’ll take you on one last ride to the springs, but then we’re leaving.”

He stays true to his word, and you cry the entire time you’re in the chopper, headset smushed against one ear as you rest your head on the window and look down at the Grand Prismatic, the steam rising from it. It’s beginning to grow discolored with all the activity, but it’s more stunning now than it’s ever been. 

Soon, it’ll be completely covered. All of it will. And, you could have been too, stuck underground for a couple of years only to be the first to step out into the pure destruction. 

That’s not an option anymore, though, not with Mike looking as grave as he does, not with the way he shadows you in your apartment as you gather the necessities, like he thinks you’re going to bolt and run back to the lab, not when the two of you meet back up with a still-fuming Levi and a despondent Erwin to head to the airport.

The tickets are outrageously priced at such short notice, but that doesn’t stop Levi and Mike from passing their credit cards over.

“Two for Washington D.C.”

“And, two for Bergen, Norway.”

Boarding passes in hand, the four of you walk through the bustling airport together for as long as you can before you have to inevitably split up. Levi glares at you but still pulls you into a tight hug, grunts into your ear, “You’re so stupid,” before letting go and turning to Mike. “Keep her safe, boy scout. I’m trusting you.”

Mike nods, and both of them clasp hands as you turn to look at Erwin. Tears and pathetic sniffles return when you walk into his open arms, clinging to him and mumbling, “‘M sorry, ‘m sorry. I would’ve followed you.”

“I know.” He rubs your back and heaves a sigh. “I know you would have.”

He eventually disentangles you to hold you at arm’s length, wipes the moisture from your face with his thumbs, then shows a sad smile. “See you in a few years, yes?”

“Yeah.”

One more squeeze, and everyone turns away to walk to their respective gate. Mike’s hand splays across your back, warm, guiding you in the right direction, keeping you steady. He’s always kept your feet planted firmly on the ground. You figure, if there’s one person you’d like to experience the downfall of society with—above ground—it’s him. 

S I X  W E E K S  B E F O R E

Norway is kind of incredible. It has a natural beauty that takes your breath away just like Yellowstone used to, but it’s vastly different. Everything is green, including the lights in the sky at night. You’re surrounded by rolling hills and mountains, and you just know it’ll be beautiful under thick layers of snow. 

The once rustic ranch, now restored, is made up of several small houses and a farm full of cows and goats. It’s sad to think about the fate they will eventually meet (slaughter then stomachs), but you know it’s necessary to prepare for the coming years.

And, the owners have definitely prepared. 

Gelgar and Nanaba are everything Mike described and more. Between taking care of the farm and setting up energy sources, they do their best to make you and the other arrivals feel at home. They’ve designed the ranch to house up to about thirty people, a commune of sorts (minus any cult-like vibes). Naturally, everyone pitches in and helps around the place. You find yourself cleaning a lot, but you don’t mind. It’s a nice, mindless task that keeps you from thinking too hard about everything you’ve left behind. 

You also like to join Nana outside, help with the animals and enjoy the sunshine while you still can. Of course, this subjects you to endless teasing especially today when she catches you staring into the distance at Mike who's helping Gelgar fix a solar panel. 

His shirt is starting to stick to his back from sweating, muscles straining under the damp cloth, and good lord, when did he get that broad? Sure, he's always been tall and fit, but working on the homestead has definitely made him more built. That along with the fact that his hair has gotten long enough to tie up in a bun has your mouth going a little dry. 

"Like what you see?" Nanaba asks, accent thick, voice full of amusement. 

You shoot her a look, face all scrunched up when you mumble, "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh?" She sticks her tongue out. "Don't be coy. I see the way you both look at each other."

"Tch." 

"And, how both of you volunteer to cook with the other when it's your turn to. You move around each other like you know exactly where the other is. Two halves of a whole."

You roll your eyes. "We've just worked together for a while. We make a good team."

She's not wrong, though. Since coming to Norway, you and Mike have grown even closer. There was a period of time when you could hardly look at him, too guilty for trying to stay at the park, guilty for hurting him, but eventually the two of you fell back into your normal dynamic—joking, laughing, touching just a little too much, smiling when you think no one's looking. You even spent an afternoon together in a nearby field of flowers, just like he'd promised. With a picnic basket full of food, and a blanket to lay on, you'd admired the clouds overhead while enjoying the rustling grass surrounding you. 

It's been your favorite day since coming here, had reminded you of the lunches you used to share on the mountain. 

You're not brave enough to make any sort of move, though. Mike is just so good. There's a chance his affections are simply based in friendship, and that's something you're scared to ruin. He means too much to you. 

"How long did you work together?"

"Like, four years, give or take a few months."

"And, you're still acting like nothing is there?" Nanaba tsks. "Ridiculous."

"How long did it take you and Gel to get together?" You ask, then quickly backtrack, "Not that that's what I want with Mike necessarily."

"Mhm," she smirks. "Gel and I did it backwards. Got pissed at a bar and fell into bed together. Then we started to get to know each other and found out we just worked."

Sounds about right, you think. The couple has an interesting back-and-forth, half bickering, half innuendo. You can always, always see the love in their eyes, though. That's what you want in life. That’s what you want with Mike. Even if you won't admit it out loud. 

You turn your gaze back to the roof he and Gelgar are on just in time to see him making his way down the ladder. Once on the ground, he and the other man start striding over to you. Mike's face is red, sweat beading at his hairline, and Gelgar's pompadour is beginning to fall. 

"Think we got it fixed up," Mike announces, lifting the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe his forehead. 

You stare at his toned stomach for just a little too long, the lines of his hip bones leading into the waistband of his jeans. 

Nanaba's words ring in your head again—fell into bed, fell into bed, fell into bed—and you fixate on the idea of you and Mike doing the same. To have him hovering over you, or maybe you over him, thighs on either side of those hips as his hands trail up your body—

You shake the thought from your head, letting your glazed eyes refocus on the men in front of you. 

"Alright, I'm gonna grab a shower before dinner. Who's cooking tonight?"

“I believe it's Lynne and Henning," Nana answers. 

Mike nods then heads toward the little house he's been living in, right next to yours, of course. He reaches out to let his hand brush yours as he passes, and it takes conscious effort not to grip onto one or two of his large fingers and follow him. 

"God, that's painful to watch," Gelgar snorts. 

Nana laughs and agrees, "I was just telling her the same thing."

"Oh, shut up. Ya' couple of meddlers."

*

A line forms every evening outside of the main house, the one Gelgar and Nanaba share. You and Mike stand together at the back, watching everyone in front of you. Some are families, some are couples, some are here alone. You figure, no matter their status, the ranch is a nice place to be—peaceful, home-y despite its size. So far, everyone gets along. 

Only the kids complain about chores, about seven of them constantly running around together, but that’s to be expected, and honestly, you don’t mind picking up their slack. Life is about to get very difficult for them. They should get to be children for a little while longer. 

Potato soup is poured into your bowl with a ladle, topped with shredded beef and green onions, then you and Mike retire back to your little cottage home to eat and watch TV. It stays on the same channel, world news, and there’s always a long segment that covers Yellowstone and what it’s doing. 

It is not uncommon at all to look up from your food and see Erwin or Levi’s face on screen, speaking with experts, sometimes in interview-like settings.

Tonight, they’re covering a problem that’s been going on for some time, but everyone figured would resolve itself: some people will not leave the most dangerous zones, and it’s because they simply do not believe an eruption will take place. 

Even with the evidence, the science backing it—even with actual federal authorities knocking on their doors and telling them to leave—there are many people who just want to stay put. It’s insane to you, makes your blood boil. Children have been taken from their homes to be placed in safer areas, which only causes the disbelievers to get angrier. They want to say “I told you so”, but that’s not going to happen. 

What’s going to happen is getting burned alive in the flow that pours from the volcano. They will die a painful death, get buried under meters of fallout, ash, snow. There’ll be nothing to recover except for petrified, charred corpses. 

Of course, the irony is not lost on you; you and Erwin were both willing to chance similar fates, but you still think the two of you would have been more prepared than these regular-Joes who think their front door is enough to stop a volcanic eruption. 

“In the end, there’s no reasoning with people like this,” Erwin says on camera, a soft, sad smile playing at his lips. “When a person is so, uh… Dead set on staying, it will take an unstoppable force to move them.”

In your case, that unstoppable force had been Levi screaming at you while holding back tears. 

“Unfortunately for them, this force is the eruption, and they won’t be able to leave when that occurs.”

“Because they’ll be dead,” the reporter states more than asks.

Erwin nods and answers with a grim, “Yes. Yes, they will be.”

They’re not trying to be subtle, obviously hoping that this will get through to the stubborn masses, but you doubt it will. They’re living on borrowed time at this point. Any day could be their last.

Mike is quieter than usual as he eats, barely even looking at the television screen, and you have a feeling he’s thinking about how close you were to staying alongside those stupid assholes. It’s still a touchy subject, one both of you do your best to avoid. You’re mostly happy to be in Europe, spending your days with Mike and his friends and everyone else running around here. 

But, there’s also a part of you, deep down inside, that aches, that misses the park, that still wants to be right in the middle of the destruction. Watching it blow from so far away is going to hurt. This massive monster you’ve fallen in love with over the years will never be the same, and your last good look at it was that tearful helicopter ride. 

You’re not resentful toward Mike or Levi for dragging you out of the lab that day, but you are grieving in a sense. 

The program ends with Erwin giving one last warning— “If you insist on staying, I’d advise bomb-proofing your home, stocking up on several years-worth of rations, and installing one hell of a ventilation system. Good luck.”

Mike clears his throat and stands, grabbing his empty bowl as well as yours, then heads into the kitchen to rinse them off. 

Sighing, you follow him, lean against the counter a couple feet away as you think of something to say that won’t sound too forced.

“Hey,” you start.

Mike gives a low, “Hm?” as he holds the dishes under hot water, finally glancing over when you gently nudge him in the side.

“Thanks for…” You take a deep breath, pinned by light green eyes, then try again. “Thanks for bringing me here.” He blinks but doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “It’s really nice. And, I’ve bonded or whatever with Nana.”

“But, you miss the park,” he says.

You shrug. “I mean, yeah. That park was my life, but… Probably dying in it was not one of my brighter ideas.”

He snorts, shuts off the water, then turns to you. Craning your neck, you take in his face—really take it in—the few strands of hair that hang freely past his jawline, the way his beard, no longer stubble but not exactly thick, forms around his mouth and connects with his sideburns, his strong, slightly curved nose, how his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. He’s so painfully handsome, especially all shaggy and rugged, and it makes your heart beat too hard and too fast in your chest. 

Mike dries his hands on a dish towel, looking down at them when he tells you, “I’m glad we were able to get you out of there. It’s not something I’ll ever feel bad about. Even if you hate me for it.”

“I don’t hate you,” you scoff. “Never could. You’re my best friend, Mike.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile, then think of Nanaba earlier that day and laugh quietly. 

“What?”

You wave a hand, shake your head. “Nothing, nothing, just… Nana has… Ideas, or something.”

There’s no need to elaborate. Mike understands what you’re trying to say. He inhales then breathes out it out in a chuckle as he posts up against the counter next to you. “Yeah, Gelgar does too.”

“Guess they don’t know us very well.”

A silence hangs between the two of you, one that would normally be comfortable but is now a little thick given the subject matter of your conversation.

You and Mike. Just earlier that day you had been thinking about how scared you are to ruin the friendship, but the more you imagine, the more you get lost in the fantasy…

“Or maybe…” You glance over to see Mike nibbling on his bottom lip, eyes fixed on the ground as he continues, “Maybe they know us better than we know ourselves.”

He raises his head, gaze locking with yours, and you stop breathing. Because that stare is so hesitant, searching for something inside of you as if you have the answer, but you’re just as scared and confused as he is. Over four years of friendship—of good, meaningful friendship—is that worth risking just because you’re both curious? 

Or has it all been leading to this since the start? Since those first, short conversations, since the meals shared with one another, the affectionate gestures. Mike has always kept your head on straight, looked after you with even more care than he had with the park’s wildlife. 

You thought it’d all been one-sided pining, that he was just glad to have someone who understood him a little better than everyone else because you do. You understand his passion for the planet, you understand all his little fixations. You appreciate every eccentricity like he appreciates all your neuroses. 

“Maybe so…” 

Two very large hands are on your face, tilting upward, and your lungs begin to burn as Mike strokes just under your eyes with the pads of his thumbs. He has to lean down quite a bit, pauses just over your lips to let out a tiny huff of surprise, disbelief, awe maybe, then closes the rest of the miniscule distance. 

He is very warm and very firm against you—feels good, all the comfort of someone familiar but still so new. Your lips fit together perfectly, and at last, you’re able to breathe again, mouths moving in an experimental back and forth, feeling each other out until he runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your lips. Gripping strong shoulders, you let the kiss deepen, opening your mouth for him, and Mike groans when he’s finally able to taste you. 

Hands fall from your face, moving down, down, down, brushing your ribs, settling at your hips, but his fingers are long enough to curl and dig into the meat of your ass, making you gasp and press harder against him.

Rolling his pelvis into yours, you very quickly find yourself pinned between Mike’s body and the counter. Your grasp travels to the back of his neck, pulling him closer—you just need him closer—and he must feel it too because he hoists you up and sets you on the countertop, making room for himself between your legs.

You feel too hot and too desperate, but it’s good, a release that’s needed to happen for far too long. All manner of geothermal metaphors swim through your mind, spurting geysers and boiling mudpots, and it makes you giggle against him, biting down on his bottom lip and smiling around the flesh as he lets out another one of those rumbling, satisfied noises. 

“What’re you laughin’ at?” Mike mumbles, and for some reason, it’s strange to hear his voice so close, so quiet, as you’re pressed together, breathing each other’s air. It’s intimate and different, but it’s right. 

“I’m just…” Another little laugh, “Thinking about the volcano.”

“When are you not thinking about the volcano?” You have a feeling he’s rolling his eyes, but he still grins and kisses you again.

“It’s all dirty things if that helps.”

Mike nods slowly, lips trailing from your mouth toward your neck. “Helps some.”

You tilt your head to give him better access and let out a little whine when you feel him bite down on a patch of skin just beneath the notch of your jaw, wrap your legs around his waist and do your best to rock into him because good god, you want him. 

Fingers tangling under his loosening bun, you tug him back to your mouth, slotting your lips against his and sliding your tongue between his teeth. He presses you closer with a hand on the small of your back, squeezing the air from your lungs so all you can breathe is him. 

“Mm, Mike, Mike,” you pant, barely breaking away only for him to chase after. You laugh, push his chest at the same time you gently tug at his hair, and he backs away just enough for you to get a good look at his half-lidded eyes and spit-slicked lips. 

Honestly, staring at him now, you can’t believe you made so long without ever making a pass at him. He’s gorgeous, built like a roman statue only larger, with sun-kissed skin and a startlingly light gaze that threatens to leave you boneless. 

“D’you wanna, maybe…” You swallow and blink up at him, too many questions suddenly invading your mind—is it too early for sex? Will he think you’re easy? What if it doesn’t actually work out? But, you bite the bullet anyway and finish, “Go to the bedroom?” 

Mike is silent for a few beats, leaving you to second guess yourself and brace for disappointment and embarrassment, but then he clicks his tongue and answers, “Uh, yeah. Yes, let’s do that,” in a voice a little higher than usual, and scoops you from the counter.

Every little house on the ranch is laid out the same, so it does not take him long to find your room. He sets you down at the threshold, and from there, it’s a flurry of discarded clothing and stumbling to the bed.

“How have we never done this before?” He huffs, crawling over you, leaving wet kisses in his wake. 

You’ve still got an arm covering your bare chest, but Mike doesn’t seem self-conscious in the slightest which comes as a surprise considering how reserved he typically is. Not that he has anything worth hiding—not the thin layer of hair that dances over his barrel chest, not the ridiculously cut abdominals or sharp ‘V’ of his hips, and definitely not the thick cock bobbing against his stomach as he moves. You would be intimidated if you didn’t know him as well as you do, but you’re sure that he’ll be gentle with you. Mike may be many things, but careless is not one of them.

He reaches your mouth, kisses you so deeply it makes you dizzy, and as he does, he very slowly pulls your arm from your chest, leaving you vulnerable—free for the taking. 

His touch is soft enough to tickle as he brushes over one of your nipples, making you exhale against him and arch your back like a silent plea for more. He traces around the bud, makes it pebble before carefully rolling it between two fingers.

Warmth spills into your gut, makes you squirm on the bed, and a moan makes its way from your throat as Mike gently tugs at the sensitive flesh. He lowers his head again, lavishing the same kind of attention on your other nipple with his mouth. He nibbles and licks and sucks, and you wriggle and whimper beneath him, one hand trailing down his body until you’re able to close your fingers around the head of his cock. 

Mike grunts, thrusts into your hand a couple times, enough to make precum drool from his tip, but before he can get too carried away, he says just above a whisper, “Let me get you ready,” then moves to lay between your spread legs.

Sliding his arms under your thighs, he locks them into place, and you release a shaky breath, feeling his eyes taking you in for several seconds before licking up your slit once then pushing deeper.

“Oh, fu—”

Both your hands shoot downward, one gripping the messy bun at the back of his head as you shudder at the sensation of his beard against your pussy. You’re wet in seconds, core pulsing as Mike uses his tongue to slowly open you up, then pulls back to flick over your clit. 

“Mike—Mike—”

He hums into you, shaking his head slowly back and forth, no doubt making a mess of his face and you. You don’t have anything to say, just feel your throat tightening like there are unspoken words that need to come out, but you can’t think straight, not when he’s doing what he’s doing, not when you feel the tips of his fingers reaching out to spread your lips. 

He is thorough bordering on methodical, makes sure you’re at the point of full body shakes before he gives you a break, and then, when your breathing returns to a normal rate, he starts all over again. There is a tightness in your gut that builds and builds then dissipates every time he stops, and he must know because when you whine in frustration, Mike just grins and kisses the inside of your thighs. 

The same pattern is repeated with his fingers, just one at first, massaging your walls perfectly, then a second that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. He rubs over the swelling tissue inside of you, seems to enjoy every little gasp and noise you make, including the unsatisfied one you let out when he pulls his fingers from you. 

You can feel how damp the bedspread is underneath you, can see the evidence of your arousal on Mike’s face, and it makes you flush but doesn’t stop you from tugging him down for another messy kiss. 

“You ready?” He asks, sounding just as breathless as you feel, and you nod furiously, bending your knees and planting your feet on the mattress so that you can lift your hips to his. 

Mike chuckles, reaches down between the two of you to take hold of his length and taps your clit with his cockhead a couple times—simultaneously the most infuriating and most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced. Slowly, he lines himself up, just barely pushing forward, and when you bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut, Mike tells you to, “Breathe, baby, open up for me.”

He already sounds wrecked, like he’s fighting the urge to just sheathe himself entirely, but he waits, giving you one inch at a time with periods of adjustment in between. You always sort of figured he was big, but this burning stretch is something you hadn’t imagined even in your lewdest of fantasies. You’re incredibly full, feel him in your gut and throat and everywhere, but it isn’t bad; it’s just a lot. 

“Okay,” you stroke the forearm next to your head and nod. “Okay, you can start moving more.”

Mike’s brow creases. “You’re sure?”

“About as sure as I can be with a monster cock inside m-me—” Your laugh turns to a moan as Mike begins to pull out, eyes trained on your face for any sign of real discomfort, but your mouth just drops open, your own eyebrows raising at the feeling of his length hitting every one of your most sensitive spots. 

“Holy…”

He pushes back in quickly, still mindful of what your body can take, and when all you do is cry his name and scratch down his back, Mike starts up a steady rhythm that has you seeing god. 

That tightness is back, hotter than before, threatening to burn you up entirely as your cunt flutters and spasms and leaks around Mike’s length. 

The sound of a hoarse groan makes you open your eyes, and you follow Mike’s line of vision to where you’re connected, see his cock sliding in and out of you, dripping slick and ringed in white cream toward the base. The sight makes you clench around him, and Mike swears under his breath then leans forward to gather you in his arms. Your head lolls back as he lifts you, sitting on his knees for just a second before falling onto his back and letting you drop onto him. 

You choke, and Mike pants, but his hands are tight at your hips, moving you up and down his length like a sleeve. His pupils are blown wide when you look down at him, hair nearly entirely out of its tie, bottom row of teeth exposed as his jaw slides almost primally. 

He looks completely lost in you, possessed as he fucks up into your pussy rougher than before. You bounce in his lap, whimpering his name with every thrust, growing in volume when you feel a finger press against your clit. 

“You gonna come for me?” Mike grits out, rubbing a circle over the swollen bundle as his eyes flick from your chest to your face. 

You nod, ignoring the burning in your thighs in favor of the sensation between your hips. “Yeah, I—I—Fuck, Mike—”

“Come on, baby, come on—wanted to see this for years, come all over my cock…”

You snap, legs shaking as your climax crashes through you. Your cunt pulses around Mike, coating him in more of your juices and making him groan and fuck you through it. You whine at the stimulation, swollen walls so sensitive yet taking everything he has to give you.

Every thrust to your g-spot makes you gush a little more, come a little longer, until all you can do is fall onto his chest and let him use you as he needs to. You leave marks on his pecs, bites and scratches, and Mike grunts at every one of them until he sits up and flips you once again.

“Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere, I don’t care, I don’t care,” you babble.

Mike inhales sharply then lets out a long groan as he pulls out and shoots his load onto your stomach. It’s warm and thick, some pooling in your belly button as Mike makes a trail down to your clit where he smears the last few drops. You twitch at the contact, hole clenching around nothing now, but you can already feel soreness settling into your muscles. 

Mike gives you two little pecks on the mouth, then one last, longer kiss before rolling to lay on the mattress beside you, chest rising and falling with deep breaths.

This silence doesn’t bother you. It gives you time to come back to your senses, to reflect, to remember everything that was said which leads you to ask, “You meant that—about wanting this for years?”

Mike turns his head and smiles so sincerely it almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“Well, yeah. Been in love with you pretty much since I started at the park.”

He says it so casually, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and maybe it is, but it still makes your breath catch. 

“Seriously?” You turn to lay on your side, and Mike mimics the action, propping his head up with one hand while he lets the other settle on your waist. 

He lifts an eyebrow and questions, “Is that so hard to believe?” 

“No, I just… Thought it was one-sided on my end, I guess. Like, we were too good of friends.” Mike leans forward to gently headbutt you, and you snort to yourself, “Guess I was wrong.”

“We were both being stupid,” he mumbles. “But, we were also focused on other things, married to the job or whatever.”

Lifting your face makes him lift his, and you smile into another kiss, feeling happier and more balanced than you have in a very long time. 

Without much more discussion, you and Mike get up to rinse off, sharing more soft touches under the spray of the shower before crawling into bed together. Falling asleep feels like coming home.

You don’t even mind the smug grin on Nanaba’s face when she sees you and Mike leave your house together in the morning, nor the teasing jabs Gelgar throws your way over lunch. You don’t know if anything is capable of knocking you out of your perfect, peaceful little world on this perfect, peaceful little homestead.

Except maybe a supereruption, of course. 

E - D A Y 

It happens right in the middle of the morning news. You and Mike are sipping on coffee, expecting the same report you’ve gotten every day— “Nothing yet, closely monitoring, blah blah”—but as the English news anchor tries to introduce the meteorologist, he stops, holds a hand to the speaker in his ear, then looks at the camera with wide yes. 

“I’m—I’m getting news that the Yellowstone supervolcano has just begun to erupt, we’re cutting to the US address at Washington D.C. now—”

And just like that, Levi’s face is suddenly on screen, picking him up mid-sentence. 

“... One vent open at the present time, but more will open shortly. Stay indoors, ration your food. This is what we’ve been preparing for.” He looks tired, and when you do the math, you understand why: seven AM in Norway is one AM in D.C., meaning Levi was probably woken up to make the announcement. 

As always, you can make out Erwin’s figure behind him, hands clasped tight and shaking, and it isn’t until Mike puts a hand on your shoulder that you realize you are trembling right along with your old boss.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” he reassures you. “We’re gonna be okay here.”

You nod and let him pull you closer to him as both of you look back to the screen and listen to what your old colleagues have to say.

The news stays on for the rest of the day. At around ten, the second vent opens up. Then another. Then another. Levi keeps track, expression never betraying the fear he must be feeling, even when he delivers the message that a full ring around the caldera has opened up. 

“Obviously, we can’t get in close enough to look, but we estimate at least two thousand four hundred and fifty cubic kilometers of eruptible magma will pour from the volcano. That’s the size of the eruption from around two million years ago, but it could be worse with the current number of vents…”

The journalists on site, usually so ready to ask questions and challenge Levi, are silent today, and you imagine they’re staring with eyes the size of saucers, not quite believing what they’re hearing because it’s happening. It’s finally happening. 

You eat a quiet, solemn lunch at Nanaba and Gelgar’s, no one knowing what to say. You feel nauseous, stunned, not unlike losing a loved one. You’re able to forget the absolute destruction taking place in the states for a few minutes at a time, but it always comes back to you, punching you in the gut with the same, brute force every time.

The park. The lab. The forests. The towns. Cities, states, homes, lives, all wiped off the map. 

Erwin takes Levi’s place as public speaker close to five, probably to let the other man get some sleep, and reports that the portable seismogram, still linked to the remaining seismographs located around the park, show that there are near continuous earthquakes taking place, “Which could either help should enough earth shift to block the magma chamber, or make things worse by disrupting it further.”

“E is not very good at keeping people’s hopes up,” you mutter, and Mike chuckles.

“Yeah, I see why he makes Levi do all the talking now.”

You both receive texts from the rest of the team, Levi’s coming at an appropriate time but the others reaching you at odd hours of the night when you’re nestled in Mike’s arms.

Neither of you sleep as reality sets in the rest of the way. That was it. The beginning of the end of everything you know. Everything is about to change.

You sniff, try to be as quiet as possible as the tears you’ve been holding back all day finally begin to fall, but Mike knows, feels your body stiffen as you curl into yourself. 

He hugs you close to him but doesn’t say anything, just rests his cheek against yours and holds your hand. 

There’s nothing anyone can say to make this better, no amount of optimism or determination that will make this any easier. Your home is covered in miles of pyroclastic flow, and as it hasn’t stopped yet, you know this is just the start. Soon, anything left alive will be suffocated by the tephra, people, animals, and vegetation alike. Though you won’t die where you are, everyone at the ranch will be feeling the effects soon enough.

Your mother calls from France where her and your dad decided to “vacation” for the next several years. She’s worked up about not being able to get through to you for almost an entire day, and even as you reassure her that you’re mostly fine, she hears the way your voice cracks and offers to fly to Norway.

“Mom, the airports are shut down by now,” you sigh. “We already talked about this. We can’t see each other for a while, but we’ll FaceTime until we can’t anymore.” Until the cell towers are knocked out, you don’t say.

“I just know my baby girl is hurting right now. I know how much you loved—”

“I know,” you cut her off, scared that hearing it from her mouth will just make you lose it again. “I know, but I’m okay here with Mike and everyone else.”

“You’re sure?” She sniffles, sounding a lot like you. “Cause your father and I will find a way to get to you if you need us.”

“I’m sure, Mom,” you tell her with a sad smile she can’t see. “Get some rest, okay?”

You share many calls like that, many ill-timed text messages until the eruption finally comes to an end six days later. The damage it’s done is incalculable—the entirety of the United states now covered in a cloud of ash that blocks out the sun. 

It doesn’t reach you for a few days, but every time you go outside, Mike sniffs the air and mumbles something like, “Smells like sulfur,” or “It’s getting closer”, but after another week, the entire globe is covered. 

1  M O N T H  A F T E R

Everything is an estimation. Everyone knows that a massive amount of magma erupted, but they don’t know how much. Everyone knows that a large number of people have died, but they don’t know how many. There are too many mysteries, and it’s nowhere near safe enough to send search crews out. 

Despite all the warnings, people are still trying to go outside—to see the ash, to review the damage, but even with cloth or medical grade masks, they’re breathing in the dangerous particles floating in the air, tiny minerals that turn to a cement-like substance in their lungs, and because of that, the death count is only rising. 

News reports cut in and out, as do phone calls. Some texts never get sent or received, so all you truly have is your little home and Mike. 

And, you cry, and you mourn, and you miss your friends and family—fuck, you don’t even know how you’ll survive so long without them—but you also revel in the fact that you’re safe. Not everyone can say that. The fact that you had almost willingly stayed in the most dangerous zone of the explosion is laughable now. There’s no way you and Erwin would have survived that, something he agrees with you on when you share a short phone call with him just to check how he and Levi are doing. 

They’ll be staying at the Homeland Security compound for the forseeable future, but he assures you they’re well-prepared to brave the years-long gray storm. 

Without any livestock to take care of, or mouths to feed other than yours and Mike’s, you find yourself with an abundance of free time. You still have power thanks to the solar panels and the couple of windmills set up around the ranch, but you don’t know how long that will last. 

You both read a lot, do puzzles together, fall into bed both out of desire and just because there’s not much better to do.

And, that part of your apocalyptic life is kind of great. Mike is great. He takes care of you both in and out of the bedroom, is gentle with you until you tell him not to be, and then he’s more than happy to succumb to your needs. He’d invested in a frankly absurd amount of condoms before the eruption so he wouldn’t have to worry about pulling out every time, but every once in a while you want him like you had him the first time—desperate and passionate and completely raw. 

That’s the feeling you’re experiencing tonight, staring at Mike from your place on the couch rather than at the book in your hands.

You see him smile before he actually looks at you, but when he does, he has a glint in his eyes you’ve gotten very familiar with over the last month. 

“Need something, baby?”

You bite your lip to keep from grinning too bashfully and glance back down at the open pages on your lap. “Nuh uh.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm,” you nod. 

“Really?” Mike puts down the wildlife magazine he’s perusing and leans closer to you. “’Cause it looks like you might want something.”

You cross your legs, flip a page you haven’t even read, and shake your head. 

It’s a dumb game you’ve both started to play, who can hold out the longest. Of course, the longest record is one you both hold—four years and some odd months—but other than that, you usually make it two or three days at most.

But it’s hard with him walking around looking like he does, and for someone so quiet, Mike is mischievous and handsy, knowing just how to rile you up only to walk away and leave you to whatever you were doing before. He whispers in your ear, he grabs your ass, sometimes he’ll just stand right behind you in the kitchen and inhale, trace his nose up your neck so that you shiver and break out in goosebumps, then mumble a shameless, “You smell nice.”

He’s troublingly good at driving you crazy, and you realize this is why it took you so long to actually get together. You can’t imagine being this wound up and wanton in the lab with everyone there to see. 

“You know,” Mike speaks again. You look at him from the corner of your eyes as he leans back against the cushions and nonchalantly kicks an ankle over his thigh. “A lot of people are dying. Like, thousands. Millions.”

Frowning, you nod. “Uh, yeah. Worldwide disaster taking place.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame,” he adds. His lips twitch upward for a second before he purses them, waiting for another couple seconds then stating, “Should probably start thinking about… Efforts to repopulate.”

Eyes widening, you tilt your head to the side in disbelief, a short, incredulous laugh bubbling from your throat.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, Mike Zacharias!” 

Reaching behind you, you grab a throw pillow and launch it at him. Mike shields himself easily, choking and chuckling as he tries to defend himself, “I’m just—saying! It’s something to keep in mind!”

“Trying to guilt me into sex—” You smack his forearms with the pillow again, “As if I’m not already easy for you—" smack, smack, “—by bringing up all the people dying out there. What is the matter with you?”

He gets a hold of the pillow and rips it from your hands then hugs it to his chest and stares at you with that uncharacteristically devious look. “Is it working?”

You scoff at him, gently kick at his thigh in one last act of defiance before responding, “I mean, kinda.”

And, that’s all he needs to hear before he’s throwing himself at you, pinning you to the couch even as you giggle and squirm, ridding you of the comfortable clothes you have on so that he can kiss and lick every part of you he can reach. He acts like he’s hungry for you, and you have to use all your strength to shove him off of you just so that you can work his pants off and return the favor. 

Mike is all grunts and curses as you work him over with your tongue, a hand on the back of your head heavy but not pressuring. He trembles as you take him deeper, his tip hitting the back of your throat and sliding just a little further. 

It always hurts your jaw, leaves it sore for a full twenty-four hours at least, but the way his jaw drops and his hands ball into fists make it worth it. 

You use one hand to stroke what your mouth can’t reach, the other settling between your own thighs to get you to where you need to be, and only when Mike is panting and you’re dripping slick into your curled palm do you pull off of him.

He helps you into his lap, lets you take your time sliding down his length, because even after as much practice as you’ve had, it hasn’t exactly gotten easier. He’s still massive, and you still have to will yourself to relax around him, but once your muscles have loosened enough, you begin to rock your hips. 

Mike lets you use him like that for a few minutes, knows he’s at the perfect angle to rub over your g-spot, so he just watches and leans forward to place teasing kisses around your open mouth. 

“Feel good, baby?” His voice drips like honey as he grips onto you to aid in your movement. 

Nodding, you dig your nails into his shoulders, then shift to start moving up and down his length. Mike takes it as his cue to take over completely, strong enough to lift and drop you as he pleases, and you both fall into a frenzy of motion, desperate to get off, to get each other off, to share that euphoria. 

“Do you actually want to?” You ask in a daze.

Mike cracks his eyes open to ask, “What?” and slows down enough to give you enough breathing room to speak. “Do I wanna what?”

Making lazy air quotes with your fingers, you mimic his deep voice, “Repopulate,” then elaborate, “Have kids. Do you want that?” 

Everything stops. Your hips still, as do Mike’s, and he stares at you, the lusty haze of his gaze clearing as he processes what you’re asking. 

Feeling completely exposed, you try to rationalize, “I know, I know, we’ve only been doing this for, like, a month, and it’s kind of a terrible time to actually bring new life into the world, but if I’m gonna do it with anyone—”

Mike fists both hands in the hair at the back of your head, pulls you to him to smash your lips together. When he starts bouncing you again, your muffled moan is still loud in the small living room, and Mike’s voice comes out somewhere between desperate and destroyed when he tells you, “Yeah, I want kids. Want you to have my kids.”

“Okay,” you breathe, matching his rhythm, then again, “Okay.”

A switch seems to flip in Mike’s head. You watch and experience him devolve into someone—something—primal. He fucks you like he never has before, long hair hanging in his face, lip caught between his teeth as he groans around it, pistoning into you quick and rough.

“You want it?” He growls, pausing to suck a mark at the swell of your breast. “You want me to come in this pussy?”

Your heart stutters, jaw dropping slightly because Mike isn’t a vulgar man, never has been, but now, the way he’s looking up at you with wild eyes, you know all he needs is the right push, and he’ll lose it completely. 

“Yeah, fuck, want you to fill me up, please,” you whine.

Your world tilts as he tosses you long ways on the couch, sliding back into you with ease and demanding, “Touch yourself.”

You grin slyly, “What, don’t have the focus?”

“Not really,” he admits, flicking sweaty hair from his eyes. 

Two of your fingers find your clit, massaging it the way you always do when you’re desperate for an orgasm. It makes you clamp tighter around Mike, and you tell him again—beg for him— “Please, baby, want you so bad.”

He comes quicker than usual, shooting line after line deep inside of you until it starts dripping out around his cock. 

He can’t stay inside you for long, unable to take the way you keep clenching and twitching from your own ministrations, so Mike pulls out and shimmies down your body so that his face is just above your cunt. At first, he just stares (like always), admiring your swollen folds and how messy you are, but soon he pushes a finger into you, attaching his mouth to your clit shortly after.

It doesn’t take you long. The thought of him fingerfucking his cum further into you paired with the actual sensation of it sends you over the edge within a few minutes, and the two of you are left sweaty and panting, too drunk off each other to really think about the gravity of what you’ve just done but enjoying it all the same. 

The feeling eventually returns to your legs, some of the fog in your brain dissipating as you run your hand through Mike’s hair, and when you find that you can, you voice, “Can we even handle a kid? Or like… Can a kid handle the world as it is?”

“Kids are weirdly resilient,” Mike speaks, face pressed against your stomach so that you can feel the vibrations. “And, maybe there’ll eventually be a race of super babies or something—have enhanced lungs to deal with ash. Darkvision and shit.”

You snort and shake your head. “Dummy.”

He retaliates by blowing a raspberry just above your belly-button, grins lopsidedly when you squeal. 

“But really, our kids’ll be fine. Volcanologist for a mom and an Eagle Scout for a dad? Doesn’t get much better than that.”

“Oh my god, you were actually in Boy Scouts? Does Levi know?”

Mike makes a little ‘pft’ sound and shoots you an unimpressed look. “Of course not. Like, I’d ever let that tiny, tiny man be right about anything.”

Your laugh is so deep and genuine, it makes your whole body shake. Mike raises his head to keep it from bouncing so much, but you can feel him staring for the duration of your giggle fit. Even through squinted, teary eyes, you can see his gaze is full of adoration, and you figure having two parents who love each other as much as the two of you do will at least make the hard life ahead of you a little easier for a child. 

4  Y E A R S  A F T E R

Heavy snow falls outside, adding to the thick layers on the ground and clouding the window you’re staring out of. The carrier is nicely heated, ensuring you and its other two occupants stay toasty as you keep eye out for incoming headlights. 

“Think that’s them,” Mike says, and you swivel to look out his driver’s side window to see two dull beams of light growing brighter and brighter. 

“Don’t know who else it would be,” you joke. “No one else is dumb enough to come back to this place.”

The only sign of your husband raising his eyebrows is the way his hat shifts slightly. “You’re right about that.”

Cinching fur-lined hoods tighter, you both slide out of the tram, boots crunching on ice and snow when you land on the ground. Mike circles to your side, opens the back door, then unbuckles and collects what looks to be a bundle of jackets in his arms. Two light eyes peer out between a beanie and a face mask, gloved hands reaching out and grabbing for you. 

“You want Mama?” Mike coos before passing your son to you.

You settle him on your hip, rub his shielded nose with yours, hoping your body heat will help keep him warm out here.

It’s been winter for… Years, now, the ash from the eruption having behaved exactly as you thought it would, blocking out the sun, and sending the planet hurtling into another ice age. It was something not everyone was prepared for—the intense cold, the food and water shortage, the isolation, but you were lucky. You had everything you needed.

The other snow vehicle stops a ways off, lights left on as two figures jump out, recognizable even when completely covered up. One is nearly as tall as Mike, the other considerably smaller even up close. 

Pulling his mask down, Erwin shows a brilliant smile as he stops in front of you and Mike, and Levi immediately protests— “Oi, cover your mouth, old man! You need it for more than just talking shit.”

Mike laughs, but still reprimands the other man with a pointed, “Levi,” and a nod toward the little boy you’re holding. 

“Fuck—I mean…” Levi takes in a deep breath then apologizes over the whistling wind and falling snow, “Sorry, Huck.”

Bouncing him on your hip, you peer at your son and prompt, “Huckleberry, you remember Levi and Erwin from the computer?” 

Though your team has seen him many times on Zoom and FaceTime, this is first time Huck is meeting any of them in the flesh.

Your son looks between them for a while, quiet as he sizes up both of the men, then he reaches out for Levi the same way he had for you just moments before. Levi makes a dissatisfied noise but still takes him from you, and once Huck is passed off, you shuffle to Erwin and wrap your arms around him, breathing into his chest and warming your face. 

Your boss squeezes you tightly, mutters a low, “I know, I missed you too.”

It isn’t enough to drown out Levi’s sing-song baby voice, and both you and Erwin glance over to find him with his forehead pressed to Huck’s as he teases, “Can’t believe your parents named you after a volcanic eruption. That was pretty dumb, right?”

Mike glides over, places one hand on Huck’s head and the other on Levi’s, then sighs. “Please don’t criticize my wife’s terrible taste in nam—”

“Hey! You agreed to it,” you shout, taking the little boy back from Levi and glaring at both the smiling men. “Better shut up before you give him a complex. He can understand things, you know. He’s three.”

“Huckleberry Pine Zacharias,” Levi scoffs. “I cannot stand you guys.”

“I think it’s a great name,” Erwin interjects, lightly tapping Huck’s nose under his mask. 

“Well, you have shit taste, too.”

“Obviously, if I married a little gremlin like you,” Erwin drawls easily, leaning into the punch that Levi throws into his arm.

“Anyway, we’re here for a reason, right? Other than freezing our asses off?”

“Yeah,” Mike nods, kicking at the snow on the ground like it’ll make a difference. 

All of you know that buried beneath all the white is dried pyroclast, but under that… 

Is what remains of Yellowstone.

“How do we even go about rebuilding?” Mike is the first to ask.

Erwin stares at his own feet, face scrunched up in thought for a while before looking back up and stating, “From the bottom. Everything starts with a good foundation.”

Levi just scoffs, but you and Mike lock eyes and share a hidden grin. 

You take Huck back from Levi, leaning in for a side hug as you do, then suggest to everyone, “Well, then, now that we’ve seen a little of what we’re working with, we should head back to the shelter and start making a plan.”

“Yeah,” Levi agrees. “Gotta start getting ready for the next eruption due in seven hundred thousand years, right?”

“Right.”

After splitting back up into the two separate carriers, Mike follows closely behind the other in order to make it to their newly built bunker without getting lost. It’s perpetually dark from the never ending snow and cloud coverage, hazardous even with the vehicle’s tracks, but you can’t find it in yourself to be scared. Not now, not when life finally feels to be returning to something close to normal. 

#aot x reader #aot fanfic #attack on titan fanfic #mike zacharias x reader #snk fanfic #the smut pile collab

[fruit-of-infidelity]

// hi ava :D!!! i hope something like this is okay to ask— but i recently wrote this for Gwen and Richter, and i was wondering how Ryuuto would act if he was there with his Father, and witnessed those interactions? How would he react to meeting Gwen AFTER the fact? i also just wanna know his reaction to gwen in a dress and all healed.

// again i hope this is okay!!!

// Hello Whin!!!! Of course, that is totally okay!! I really enjoyed reading what you wrote, it was intense. It’s about to get even more intense with Ryuuto there 👀 I hope writing it in this sort of format is alright! ^^ Also I wasn’t too sure if you were implying that Ryuuto and Gwen had or hadn’t met until this point so it can hopefully be interpreted either way ;;

[ Ryuuto had reserved the corner of the ballroom for himself. If he hadn’t, he would have been allocated by Richter somewhere far more drearily disconnected from the rest of the party. At least here he could entertain himself with observing the crowd... and at least he had a wall to lean against as his legs began to grow tired. ]

[ There hadn’t been any need for him to get too dressed up for the occasion. Aside from tying his hair back, and throwing on a coat, he didn’t go to any effort for tonight. After all, even though he was well-aware of politics, that was a far cry from being at all involved in such affairs. The most familiarity he had ever done with this sort of crowd was with introductions. He could tell the Clans apart, identify some key politicians, but very little interested him. He was content with remaining out of the spotlight, save from the odd “How do you do”. ]

[ His nails played a lovely tune upon the glass in his hand. And, of course, he made sure to swirl the wine inside a few times carefully. It was mostly for show. If one was paying close enough attention, they would have easily noticed that the amount alcohol had barely shifted all evening. ]

-Ter! You actually cameーー

[ He glanced in the direction of the voice, quite close to him, though didn’t truly look at whoever had spoken. Honestly, he would have much preferred to have been left at home, but that was the funny thing about being a Sakamaki. Presentation mattered. They were more than just politicians... They were nobility. Just what would the other Clans think if, when asked, they refused to show? He wasn’t game to find out again. ]

[ When he heard his Father’s voice respond to the first, he suddenly made a point of actually seeing from who it came. It didn’t take long for him to match a voice to a face... or to identify a particular figure who his Father seemed a little too drawn to... A figure in a rather eye-catching outfit. Just how had he not noticed Gwen there before? The hem of their dress glistening like that... the amount of exposed skin, on display for everyone. He even had to stop himself from allowing his gaze to trail up his form any longer... Though, those generous slits in the fabric near the leg were tempting him. If his Father had not spoken with him so familiarly, he would have almost certainly dismissed Gwen as being nothing more than entertainment for the evening. He knew how these gatherings usually went, after all. ]

[ He stood up from against the wall, and slowly traced the wall for a few metres just to catch a better look of them both. And to listen in as they began to speak. ]

[ To stifle a few chuckles, and conceal a smirk at one or two of his Father’s remarks, Ryuuto bought his glass to his lips, as if taking a sip. Once he regained composure, he pulled the glass away. After about the third time this happened, his lips had been tinted a faint red. For the most part, he kept his ears attentive to their conversation, but his eyes wandered around the room to seem less conspicuous. It was only once they made the abrupt move to stand so closely that Ryuuto’s full attention was on the two. His eyes traced his Father first, to observe him. ]

[ His stance, seemingly relaxed, though a little too relaxed to be natural. His body, he noted, was not pressed against Gwen’s. It was in fact Gwen that was pressed - or more so pulled - against him. His arm had such an uncomfortably secure grasp on them that Ryuuto had shifted his weight subconsciously. As for his face... He most definitely was a master of concealing his emotions when he wanted to. Ryuuto couldn’t tell if he was content, anxious, irritated. So, he turned his attention to Gwen, instead. ]

[ Crossed feet... Arm slung over themselves. Anyone would have thought they were as relaxed as can be. After overhearing such a conversation though, Ryuuto knew better. They were closing themselves off, whether intentionally or not, to the conversation... to Richter. At least, that was what Ryuuto believed. As their head came to rest upon his Father’s shoulder like that, though, Ryuuto found his stare harden on the pair. He felt at a loss for words for how his Father allowed such intimate contact like this. As Lord Archambault took his leave, the threatening grasp their of them held, and then loosened, on one another - around their throat, on his back - continued to baffle him. ]

Father... Just what are you doing?

[ Under his breath, he muttered that question. Thank God everyone was far too busy with their own small talk to notice him talking to himself like this... Ryuuto continued to listen in to their conversation, though was completely lost as to the meaning of much of what was said. Something about both their tones though, left his stomach a little knotted... ]

You’ve grown up. It’s almost startling, seeing you command a room like this again. Especially with this newfound maturity. I’m proud.

[ Ryuuto’s hold upon his glass loosened. One would have easily mistaken Gwen has having actually slammed, and fractured his glass at his placement... Though the ear-piercing shatter came from few metres behind them, where Ryuuto had been mostly concealed until this point. It was as Gwen finished their sentence that all heads turned to catch a glimpse of the fool that had been so careless with their drink. ]

[ Richter’s narrowed gaze upon Ryuuto left the boy casting his eyes to the floor for a moment. His posture didn’t falter from the usual. Though, with a general bow, to whomever happened to be looking, Ryuuto excused his poor manners through gritted teeth. A servant was quick to discard of the shards of glass and the blood-like puddle at his feet. ]

[ With a beckon from Richter, Ryuuto took his place by his Father’s side. Much of the party, after a few distasteful whispers, returned to their idle conversations. The boy’s gaze had lifted once again now, to catch Gwen’s. His face almost mirrored Richter’s in likeness as he stood beside him like this. With a polite nod of the head and a tone that didn’t quite match the way his brows had furrowed in the moment, he spoke. ]

Mr. Viazzani... So pleased you could join us.

#(( fjkfj hope this was alright!! #(( feel free to respond or not! #(( turned out longer than i expected!! #gwen exicor #emperor-ink #ryuuto sakamaki #sakamaki ryuuto

[sdaomine]

Sleeping Beauty

Being the Vyn simp that he is, Marius accidentally (... or not) breaks the Golden Rule, which is to not disrupt His Royal Highness slash husband’s precious sleeping hours.

Important Note: This fic has no decent plot, just 2k-words of Marius simping over his muse and suffering the consequences later on. Oh and this has no beta whatsoever I just needed to get this VynMarius brainrot outta my head. #LetUsSpreadtheVynMariusDoctrine

---

Another tiring day at work made Marius believe he'd pass out the moment his body plumps onto the bed—after all, it was 2am when he'd reached home, and he was so exhausted he'd almost given up on taking a shower and brushing his teeth.

But, knowing how... austere his lover was when it comes to hygiene, Marius had only let out a weary sigh before grabbing a towel and proceeded to take a hot shower.

When the young von Hagen had walked out of the bathe, a towel wrapped around his waist, water rivulets down his shoulders and chest, he had hoped a certain someone was awake to notice... even when that someone was the person you'd least expect to be awake at this hour.

A (rich and handsome) man can only hope.

But the tables have turned and, even when it was Marius who wanted him to take notice of his deliciously wet body with only a towel wrapped around his waist, Marius ended up as tonight's victim. Again.

Because how could he—or anyone—resist and not fall into the effortless, indeliberate trap that is Vyn Richter's beauty?

Goddammit, Marius cursed inwardly as he gradually, soundlessly made his way towards the king-sized bed where his beautiful husband lay asleep. Tiptoe, tiptoe; he was careful not to wake the man up or else he'd be in really, really deep shit.

It took an effort to hold his weight as he climbed onto the bed. Marius held his breath as he skittered closer to Vyn, pondering whether it was his fear of waking him up that made his heart drum a bit faster, or the pale-skinned man himself. Maybe both.

With his cheek propped on his palm, Marius stared softly at Vyn. Marius somehow caught himself cursing again while doing so. Shit.

He bit his lip as his amethyst eyes, intent and wonderstruck, savored the image of it all.

Moonlight against pale skin. Long silver lashes. Hair disheveled yet soft to the touch as it fell just above his eyes.

“So fucking pretty,” was all that came out of Marius's lips as the back of his fingers caressed the soft, glass-like skin that was Vyn's face.

“Really enjoying your beauty sleep, huh?” whispered the younger man, noting Vyn's calm, steady breaths.

“Vyn...” Marius angled his face a bit lower, still captivated by Vyn's sleeping form—with the way his skin glowed beneath faint moonlight passing through the windows and his unbelievably tranquil features, he didn't look worn out at all.

“Pfft,” Marius chuckled softly, “the only time you're worn out is whenever we...”

A smirk painted across his face. Whenever I—or Artem—fucked you silly.

Their careers kept them busy during weekdays, especially Marius, who usually had twice his husbands’ workload. It meant working extra hours and staying late in the office, so whenever he returned home, Vyn—his beloved spouse and muse—was already in a deep slumber.

The same thing happens to Artem, too, since the firm had been more demanding lately, but the both of them knew better than to wake the poor man up in the middle of the night just to fuck.

That is why Vyn Richter always finds himself in a rather witless, fucked up (literally) state every weekend. Consistently.

Eh, Marius thought, at least you have five days to gather all the energy you can for the weekend. That's quite generous of us, don't you think?

“Tch, but I'm still not over the fact that you sleep so damn early." He leaned down so his face was leveled to Vyn's, who was still sleeping peacefully. “I really, really want to take you right now. All night ‘til sunrise, you know?”

And I couldn't do you goodbye before I leave for work in the mornings, too, because even if I decide that I'd be two hours late, you'd still be asleep.

“Vyn, this is so frustrating.” Marius drew closer, planting a wet kiss on Vyn's cheek. His eyes screwed shut as he inhaled his familiar fragrance. "You're so beautiful, too beautiful...” he whispered as he left another lingering kiss on his beauty mark.

Marius moved away slightly, peering at him. Still asleep. “Mine,” he told himself with a tiny, almost hidden smile, “mine. You.”

Oh he was so, so smitten. I suppose that's what Vyn fucking Richter does to everyone. Even Missy Lawyer has a crush on you, Vyn.

“Ha, she'd be so jealous.”

Marius felt his eyes getting heavier. He didn't want to sleep yet, though. Work had been cruel, and the sight of a sleeping beauty like Vyn helped him ease out his distress.

One last kiss, he thought. One more before he dozes off. Besides, if he insisted on kissing Vyn again and again, he might wake him up. He clearly didn't want that.

“I love you, Vyn.” Marius leaned in and closed the small gap that separated them. Wet and sultry was the kiss he'd given his lover, filled only with love, and longing. He missed him so much.

Marius sighed as he pulled away just slightly. I said one last, he said inwardly. But then he looked at Vyn, and he almost wished he didn’t. “Ah, fuck.”

His skin, so smooth. His hair... I want to run my fingers through his tresses.

He looks so peaceful...

His lips... “So fucking soft. So fucking kissable." One last. One more.

Brimming with desire, Marius once again pressed his lips against Vyn's.

Mine, his lips seemed to say; it was his silent declaration, a lover’s promise -- a tacit claim on his lips. Mine, mine, mine.

Marius relished Vyn's lips on his quite well that it took him long enough to pull away—but it wasn't really his own judgment that made him break contact; it was because he felt Vyn stir awake ever so slightly that he almost jolted away from the kiss.

Don't wake up. Marius refrained from moving, only staring at Vyn, silently wishing he wouldn't wake up any time soon. I'm in deep shit if he wakes up.

Vyn valued his sleeping hours more than anything else, and Marius knew that. Even Rosa, whom Vyn cared for deeply before, didn't get any special treatment from the psychiatrist during one of their NXX cases—the special treatment, which meant Vyn leaving bed earlier than nine in the morning.

If Vyn's precious sleep was interrupted for no significant reason, well, Marius should brace himself for either Vyn giving him the cold shoulder the entire day. Or maybe some tough scolding.

One, two, three. “Still asleep,” sighed the younger man, shutting his eyes close in relief. “Thank god.”

“Marius.”

Shit. Shit shit shit—

He didn't want to open his eyes. No, not now that Vyn was clearly awake. What to do? 

Okay, okay, open your eyes, he's not going to eat you...

“Vyn?”

“Mmhh...”

Marius seemed to short-circuit for a second. Oh my god, he's so... “Vyn, you awake?”

He thought Vyn appeared so… oh dammit, he looks so sexy. That was the only thing in his mind right now.

Vyn's hair was tousled from a deep sleep, with only one eye half-open as he tried to locate where Marius's voice was coming from. His witless state was still as gorgeous and elegant as his composed and mindful ones.

Vyn's eyes does not hold any emotion nor it is fully aware of his dim surroundings, as expected. He was just woken up from his slumber, and he's not yet in his best state at the moment, so what if—

Marius held Vyn's face as he went for another kiss. When he felt his lover return the sensual act, Marius tried his best not to lose his head.

“Mmph...”

“Hahh--Marius...”

The young von Hagen's lips now trailed small kisses along Vyn's neck, as if he was marking something that he owned, securing his territory. Vyn let out another soft moan; another one, then another as Marius sucked on his exposed skin, leaving fresh red bruises all over his collarbone.

“Yes?” Marius asked so lovingly, careful as his hand now roamed what was beneath Vyn's expensive robe; his warm chest, the planes of his stomach...

Marius elicited rather aroused hiss from his muse as he groped down there. “Baby, what was that? Why aren't you answering?”

But Vyn only sighed as Marius traced his jawline, as if studying the sharpness of it, thumb making its way to his lovers' lower lip, never getting over how soft it felt when it brushed against his. Oh, good lords -- the taste of Vyn’s lips was so intoxicating it became Marius’s personal drug, an addiction he’d never quit wanting. 

Turned on by the low, erotic moans coming out of Vyn’s delicious, delicious mouth, Marius found himself moving on top of him as their tongue slid against each other in an openmouthed kiss. “M-Marius...hahh--”

“Ah, fuck.” The young von Hagen felt his cock twitch at his lover’s arousal, now a little sore as it strained his sleeping pants. “I didn’t know you were--”

“... Vyn?”

One brow arched in confusion, Marius wondered what went wrong -- a few seconds ago they were moaning, tasting, eating each other’s mouths and now Vyn was on a sitting position, his back facing Marius. His robe fell just beneath his lean shoulders and Marius couldn't keep his head straight, couldn't think of anything other than to smother Vyn’s exposed skin with hot kisses. 

“Vyn--”

Marius interrupted himself the moment he saw Vyn angle his head to peer at him over his shoulder. A laugh threatened to come out of his lips as he thought, we’re already married and yet... and yet it still feels like there are butterflies whenever I get the chance to look at him. 

Just what spell did you use to bind me to you, Vyn Richter?

Marius wanted to get lost in those eyes of champagne gold. He yearned to move closer, closer until he could wrap his arms around him. In this peaceful night, he only had Vyn in his mind. But...

Shit. Now he’s really awake.

A low -- almost chilling -- chuckle echoed across the room. Vyn’s eyes were still fixated on him, as if he was a hunter who had already found its prey. His golden eyes weren’t blank anymore and instead, amused, with a hint of astonishment. 

“Good morning, Marius.”

“Y-yeah, good morning, Vyn...” Ah, shit. My husband’s weird in the mornings.

“My love,” called Vyn, "would you be so kind as to tell me what time it is?"

Haha, now I’m really in trouble. “It’s... almost three am.”

“Ah.” Vyn secured his robe in place, tying its ribbon in front of his stomach. “I see.”

That tone. That look. This silence. Marius knew what it all meant.

It meant he wouldn't be getting anything -- a kiss, a hug, a good fuck -- from Vyn the entire weekend. All because he ruined the man’s beauty sleep. 

Don’t, Marius warned himself. Marius, please don’t scream. 

----

The next evening, Artem found Marius sulking in front of their master’s bedroom, mindlessly chugging his beloved chocolate drink, brows furrowed in frustration. “Marius? What are you doing...?”

Marius didn’t reply. Artem rubbed his temples and asked, “Now, Marius. What did you do this time? I know that look.” He gave the younger man a slight bump with his fist. “Marius.”

“Ahhhhhhhhh,” cried Marius as he pouted, “He’s giving me the cold shoulder. He hasn’t even talked nor looked at me the entire evening!”

“I was asking what it was that you did.”

“Ehhhh...” He let out a defeated sigh. “I kind of... woke him up at three am with all my kissing...”

"Condolences to you." Artem gave his shoulder a sympathizing pat. "You do know you'd be sleeping in your own separate room tonight, right?"

“Artem, help me! You have to help me make him talk to me --”

The door to the master’s bedroom creaked open, revealing Vyn -- who looked like he was fresh from the shower, with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He knew Marius was there, and so Vyn prowled towards Artem, his hand sliding up to the senior attorney’s chest. “Artem. Welcome home.”

A kiss on the cheek. “I missed you.”

Marius frowned at the sight. “Eh? This is so unfair--”

Artem gasped as Vyn took hold of his lapel and pulled him down for a long, languid kiss. The moment he pulled away to catch his breath, Vyn spared Marius a knowing, sinister glance before he turned to look at Artem again.

“Come, my love.” His voice was sensual, welcoming as he looped his arm around Artem’s and guided the older man inside the bedroom. With one last look at Marius over his shoulder, Vyn smiled. “... Let me make you feel good tonight.”

When the door shut closed, Marius cursed under his breath.

“Artem.” Marius groans. “You traitor.”